Disclaimer: Any sexual acts depicted involve only characters ages 18 or older. This is a work of fiction.
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Linda's two captors sat down expectantly.
"Lunch is served, right bitch?" Aaron drawled.
The naked woman approached the rickety kitchen table with three bowls, three spoons, and a stack of napkins. After setting the table, she proceeded to retrieve the pot of soup and a serving spoon. As she doled out generous helpings of the canned soup to each of the convicts she thought darkly to herself, 'I hope you choke on it' and she was sorely tempted to throw the pot of soup in their faces.
Of course she knew the consequences of that would be too horrific to contemplate, so instead the 32-year-old mother of two remained submissive and cooperative.
Deion, the more imposing of the two escaped convicts, patted the seat beside him.
"Sit. Join us."
Reluctantly, the naked woman obeyed. Linda would have preferred to let the two eat without her and sneak a bite of food later, but she knew that the two paranoid men would never let her out of their sight. Not unless she was bound, anyway.
"Eat up, girl," Deion prodded. For a time the three of them sat around the table in silence except for the occasional slurping up of soup.
"So what's the plan, Boss?" Aaron said finally. To Linda it was becoming clear that Deion wasn't only the alpha in the two convicts' relationship, he was the brains too.
"Not now. Let's enjoy the meal," Deion said evenly. He looked at Linda, his chocolate brown eyes missing nothing, the set of his jaw both handsome and somehow feral at the same time. "I have a question, Linda, and I want a completely honest answer."
Linda stiffened and waited.
"What'll you name the baby, assuming it's a girl?"
The beautiful Asian American woman stared at the black man as if he'd grown a second head.
"What?"
"You heard me, bitch. I've fucked you twice now. Left two creamy loads deep in that sexy pussy. My swimmers mean business, so the chances of you being knocked up are high."
Linda couldn't believe that the sick bastard was asking her this. He had just raped her and the thought of giving birth to her rapist's baby made her anxiety surge all over even as the question itself repulsed her.
"I... I don't know," she said numbly, looking down at her soup as if she wished she could miniaturize herself and hide in its depths.
Deion reached out and gave her left tit a resounding slap. Startled, Linda dropped her spoon in her soup as her head snapped up.
"No moping, slut. Answer the damned question unless you want me to ass-fuck you next time."
Linda still felt the aching throb in her asshole from her ass-rape at Aaron's hands earlier. She trembled as her thoughts raced for an answer. She decided she would be as honest with her captor as she could. After all, he might detect a lie.
"Isabel," she said finally. "If I have a baby girl, I'll name her Isabel. Izzie for short." Linda had always thought that to be a beautiful name. With her husband Harry dead, the chances of her two girls ever having a baby sister were remote, but an occasional thought had crossed her mind. If she ever met someone else and fell in love again, if she ever could have another child, that would be the name. Isabel was the name of Harry's mother, so in that way it would honor her deceased husband too.
Deion stared at Linda for a few long moments as if trying to ferret out any signs of duplicity. When it seemed clear that she was telling the truth, he nodded, satisfied.
"And if my black baby growing inside you is a boy, bitch? What then? You got a name picked out?" he added.
Linda hated him even more now, but she struggled to find him an answer all the same.
"Anthony." She had always liked that name. She had had a friend in grade school named Anthony. Everyone had called him 'Tony' and he had always been nice to her.
"Can we talk about something else?" Aaron cut in sourly. The skinny convict had practically inhaled his soup and now slid the empty bowl to the side. "We gotta talk plans, Bro."
"That can wait," the broad-shouldered black man insisted. "First, I have a promise to keep." Saying this, Deion finished the last of his soup. He then retrieved from the counter the three things he had had Aaron bring over earlier - the shaving scream, razor, and small pair of scissors. He strode over to the living room and patted the carpeting.
"Lay down face-up, bitch. It's time we shaved that hot pussy of yours."
Linda gaped at him. Oh god, he'd been serious. It wasn't just an idle threat or a ploy to play mind games with her. He was dead serious. Anxiety spiked up and down her spine with a thousand needlepoints.
"Please don't do this," she said. "I-I-I'm not done with my soup," the woman protested, as if such a thin excuse would get her anywhere.
Aaron gleefully got up, stomped around to the other side of the table, and yanked Linda up by her armpits.
