In His Custody Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  More Stormy Night Books by Morganna Williams

  Morganna Williams Links

  Jack Crosby Links

  In His Custody

  By

  Morganna Williams and Jack Crosby

  Copyright © 2017 by Stormy Night Publications and Morganna Williams and Jack Crosby

  Copyright © 2017 by Stormy Night Publications and Morganna Williams and Jack Crosby

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Williams, Morganna and Crosby, Jack

  In His Custody

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by The Killion Group and 123RF/Antonio Balaguer Soler

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Chapter One

  The doll had to be positioned perfectly, the lighting just so in order to capture the dead look in its wide gaze. It was an ordinary doll purchased at a local thrift store, a slight crack in the left cheek the only thing marring the perfection of its porcelain face. The soft deceased gray eyes were the drawing point, eyes so like hers.

  Beautiful eyes, forever locked in that perfect guileless wide stare of death.

  It was only fitting it be used to set up the first profile picture for Facebook. One by one the collection would be made. Perfect works of art to sit next to each other; she would never be forgotten and that sublime shared moment of death and pain could be experienced over and over again.

  The little doll was set in a chair alone, a few feet away from the larger doll with the rheumy gray eyes. The wide gray orbs seemed to be swimming in a strange viscous fluid. It had taken some time to come up with a way to preserve the eyes so they could be showcased in the doll’s head. The little cups of hand-blown glass painstakingly made so the eye would fit inside with a bit of formaldehyde, then another cup slipped over it and sealed to it to form the eye ready to be inserted into the doll, the eyes forever preserved in a perfect memory.

  The picture would show only the small doll with eyes so like hers; no need to show her eyes inside the big doll or the row of dolls lined up next to her with their empty eye sockets waiting to be filled.

  Chapter Two

  Excerpt from Under His Hands, by Mona Hyatt:

  His hands ran across her body firmly, knowledgeably stroking over the sensitive flesh of her bottom and making her shiver. She waited, her breath caught in her throat, then his hand fell in that exquisite first slap; stinging heat filled her backside in its wake and a matching sting was delivered to the other side.

  She couldn’t bite back the moans as his hand began to descend in no discernible pattern, again and again all over her bottom before gliding over the heated skin with a teasing caress and then dropping again. Each time he caressed her it came closer to her aching center until her legs fell open of almost their own accord, her need was so great.

  “Please…” came her breathless plea.

  In response his hand plunged ever harder and faster than before. “This is a punishment. Do naughty girls get to come?”

  The rough tones of his voice rolled through her, stroking her from the inside out as his hand continued to fall, her backside hot and tender but the real ache was centered in her wet core; when a firm swat fell at the base of her bottom dead center over the place she needed his touch so badly, everything in her tightened in response.

  Each deliberate swat brought her closer and closer to that pinnacle until she stiffened over his lap with a scream then convulsed in delicate shudders as her orgasm overtook her.

  He began running his hands soothingly over her lower back and bottom as she calmed. “Good girl.”

  I blinked as the annoying sound came over my computer, indicating someone had sent a message on Facebook. I’d been working on the revisions for my new book, trying to get them finished and sent back to my editor before the end of the day.

  If I let myself get pulled into Facebook I’d never get them done, but still, what if it was Gregor? Or Tom?

  The need to know was just too great. I opened messenger to see who was talking to me, and a new face greeted me; it was a doll, a very creepy china doll with slanted gray eyes staring into me.

  I shuddered as I studied the profile pic. It said his name was Deacon… What kind of man picked a creepy china doll as his profile pic?

  Deacon: “Hi.”

  The screen blinked at me rather innocuously but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. It was the creepy gray eyes, oddly a lot like my own.

  I shook my head firmly and deleted the message. I had no desire to talk to creepy doll guy. After all I had edits due, I told myself when I felt a little twinge of guilt for deleting the guy’s message without answering him.

  As an author I prided myself on being responsive to my readers and every message was a potential new reader if they weren’t already following me. I didn’t generally take such an instant dislike to anyone on messenger; usually I waited until they sent me something inappropriate.

  I ignored the tiny twinge of guilt I felt for dismissing Deacon out of hand and went back to edits. Only a few minutes passed before the little ding sounded again but this time it was Gregor.

  A shiver of anticipation ran through my body.

  I knew I should ignore his summons but the temptation to experience a taste of what I wrote about… what I fantasized about was too great to ignore.

  Gregor: “Hello, little girl.”

  I felt wetness spring forth between my thighs as the words rolled over me, like a virtual caress.

  Mona216: “Hello, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Since we last spoke, did you do as I instructed you?”

  I hadn’t touched myself, just as Gregor wished. I sighed as his dominance washed over me; I rubbed my legs together, conscious of the way my panties brushed sensuously against the newly bare skin of my mound. It was a delicious and intensely sexual feeling. I was already wet just from the slide of my panties against my most intimate area.

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Are you wet?”

  I almost moaned out loud at his words, embarrassed to answer but knowing I would.

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Take off your panties.”

  Mona216: “But I’m still writing and I—”

  Gregor: “I didn’t ask what you were still doing. Take off your panties.”

  The implici
t command was not something I could ignore; it was as if I heard him in my head even though we’d never actually spoken. I felt compelled to obey him.

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.” I told him before reaching beneath my gown and slipping my panties off my body and down my legs. It felt decadently naughty to be sitting at my computer desk bare from the waist down. Another gush of fluid coated the tops of my thighs as I waited with bated breath for another instruction.

  Gregor: “Good girl. Scoot your bottom to the edge of the chair and spread your legs open.”

  I gasped as I followed his instructions, my bottom resting at the edge of the chair, my legs spread wide. The cool air caressed my sensitive folds, magnifying my need.

  Mona216: “Please, Sir.” Whimpering the words out loud as a persistent throb settled into my clit, I actually ached with the need to come.

  Gregor: “Please what, little girl?” I moaned awkwardly, squirming at the combination of embarrassment and need that filled me at his question.

  Mona216: “Please, may I touch myself?”

  Gregor: “No.”

  Mona216: “But Sir… I need to come.”

  Gregor: “Are you in charge of your orgasms?”

  I couldn’t help the pout that came over my face, though I knew he couldn’t see it. I hated it when one of the online dominants I played with denied my pleasure. Granted, I could make myself come and he would never know the difference but part of me craved the control he was providing and I knew the orgasm resulting from his dominance would eclipse anything I could achieve on my own. The independent part of me hated my need but my carnal self told Miss Independence to shut up.

  Mona216: “No, Sir.” In my mind it was said in a sulky tone that was totally wasted on Gregor.

  Gregor: “That’s right. I decide when and if you come and if you get to touch that naughty little clit of yours.”

  The clit in question began to thrum double time in response to his words and I was so wet there was sure to be a stain on my executive office chair.

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Good girl. Put one finger along the edge of your labia and tell me how wet you are.”

  I ran one finger down my belly and slid it along my needy slit, gasping at the moisture that quickly coated it. I was soaking wet; I groaned as the evidence of my need coated my fingers.

  Mona216: “I’m extremely wet, Sir.”

  Gregor: “Taste yourself.”

  My stomach dropped to my knees at his command; never had I imagined tasting myself but my finger was already headed to my mouth almost of its own accord. I opened my mouth wide and sucked and licked every trace of my arousal from my finger.

  I smacked my lips before responding, finding my arousal at the act a little alarming.

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir.”

  Gregor: “How do you taste?”

  Mona216: “Salty… a little tangy.” I told him as I thought about the not unpleasant taste.

  Gregor: “You’re being such a good girl. Take two fingers of one hand and drive them into your tight little pussy.”

  I did as he told me with a moan of appreciation as I sank two fingers deep. My body spasmed around my questing fingers as they slid inside me.

  Mona216: “Oh, Sir… that feels so good.”

  Gregor: “Fuck yourself hard with your fingers. Ride those fingers hard and then rub your clit with the base of your thumb while you mount your hand.”

  I braced my feet on the edge of the desk in front of me as I began to work my fingers in and out of my aching center hard and fast, making sure to rub my clit with the base of my thumb with every stroke.

  My whole body began to shake as I built toward orgasm. I switched to my cell phone to respond with one hand more easily.

  Mona216: “Oooh… please, Sir… may I come… please…”

  Gregor: “Not yet, my greedy little girl but you keep fucking that pussy.”

  I panted, trying to hold back my orgasm as I worked my sex hard. It was a losing battle and suddenly everything in me tightened and I gave a cry of pleasure as I came passionately.

  Mona216: “I’m sorry, Sir, I came.”

  Gregor: “Naughty girl. Keep working those fingers… don’t you dare stop, you already have a punishment coming and you owe me an orgasm.”

  I whimpered as I continued to work my wet slit, my fingers slamming in and out harder and harder as I built toward another peak.

  Mona216: “Sir… Sir… ohhh please, Sir… I can’t.”

  Gregor: “You can! Add a third finger and really slam your fingers in.”

  Mona216: “Oooh, yes, Sir!”

  “Ooooh hoooo,” I cried out as I added in the third finger, stretching my canal around the three fingers working it hard. The pleasure was indescribable as my back began to bow.

  Gregor: “Are you close?”

  Mona216: “Yes, Sir!!!”

  Gregor: “Come for me now!”

  I exploded around my fingers, another gush of wetness springing forth to coat my entire hand as my orgasm seemed to go on and on.

  Chapter Three

  “Sometimes life is going to hit you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith.”—Steve Jobs

  “Jackson, you’re late!”

  Quantico—the FBI training building, as looming and intimidating as always. I was an analyst, someone who felt more at place behind a computer desk. Being summoned by my superior to meet him at Quantico didn’t sit well with me. What did I do this time?

  I made eye contact with the person scolding me, Senior Agent Allison Perez. Her cold gray eyes shot daggers at my face, like I was a mold that needed exterminating. “Sorry, Agent Perez, security didn’t believe me when I told them I was due here.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Next time get here even earlier.” That was her only piece of friendly advice.

  We walked through the lobby and took the elevator up to the third floor. When we exited, she led me down the hall and into a small meeting room. The lights were all out, except a single fluorescent bulb that cast off just enough light to make it look creepy. Sitting at the table in the middle were my boss, Henry Alexander, and another senior agent, Thomas Wheeler.

  Alexander stood up and reached his hand out to me. The older man looked exhausted. His graying hair was in his face and he seemed to have more wrinkles today than I remembered. “Leo, I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.”

  “Of course, sir. I just got in last night, so it was no trouble at all.”

  “If pleasantries are finished,” Wheeler stood up as well, “I’d like to dive right in to the heart of the reason we summoned you.”

  Both Perez and I sat down at the table. She leaned in closely to her counterpart with a question. “Is the rumor true?”

  “Patience, Perez, all will be explained in a moment, isn’t that right, Henry?” Wheeler, with a nod and hand gesture, turned the floor over to Alexander.

  He clicked the remote sitting in front of him and the screen behind him flickered to life. A very eerie-looking china doll took center stage. “A few years ago, you all might remember a serial killer on the loose in Central Florida. His M.O. was stalking his victims on Facebook before he raped and killed them. It turns out he’s back.”

  This could all just be a copycat. “How do we know it’s the same guy?” I asked. I was only a junior analyst at the time, but I remember the terror this guy created. Then he disappeared.

  Wheeler looked like he might vomit. “We didn’t release one piece of information to the public. The only folks who knew what I’m about to tell you were directly involved with the case.” He reached down and grabbed a file folder. Upon opening it, the entire table gasped. “The sick son of a bitch surgically removed his victims’ eyes, keeping them as trophies. The same thing is happening once again.”

  The disturbing images of the dead women, no eyes in their sockets, were almost too much for me. “I don’t understand. Why am I here for this?”

  “Leo, you’r
e our best analyst and your forensic computer skills are unmatched. We need you to go to the Orlando field office with Agent Perez and assist as she’s taking over the investigation.”

  Alexander’s features were almost pleading with me to not put up a fight on this. “Of course, sir, whatever we need to do to catch this guy.”

  “Thank you, son; it means a lot that you’ll take this on.” Relief fell on both of the men sitting at the end of the table.

  The one person who didn’t seem happy was Agent Perez. “I still don’t get why I need to babysit an analyst. Field work and criminal investigation will catch Dollface, not a nerd from a computer.”

  Nerd was a bit of a strong word to use. Granted, my degree from MIT was in computer engineering and I’d been recruited straight away to the FBI to continue that, but nerd? As much as I wanted to fire back with a smart remark, I needed to remember my place. Perez was as good an agent as the bureau had and I needed to gain her respect. By the time we were done working this case together, she wouldn’t regard me as a nerd.

  It didn’t help that field agents didn’t value the work analysts put into cases, so her attitude wasn’t unexpected. It was a sad stigma, one that drove a great many analysts to the bar after work. Me? It sent me to the gym and gun range to continue improving my skill set.

  Wheeler looked incredibly pissed, in my defense. “We’ve talked about this before, Perez. I put you on this assignment because you’re damn good at your job. Leo is also damn good at his job and he’ll be an asset to you.” He was clenching and then unclenching his fist. “One more outburst like that and I will sit your ass in favor of someone else.”

  Hopefully her venom over this dressing down wouldn’t be directed at me after this meeting was over. I needed to stay on her good side. In the meantime, Alexander handed me an FBI-secure flash drive. “This contains all the notes from the previous investigation. Dollface is highly skilled at covering his digital tracks. Leo, we need you to be better.”