The Enforcer's Sister

Chapter Four: Jessica -Wild Cat

At the tender age of ten, I found myself perpetually in the shadows, following my mother's every step. I was exposed to a disturbing incident where I observed my mother engage in reprehensible acts. I saw her drug, sexually assault, and steal from one of the guests staying at the hotel where she was employed. From that point on, I became acutely aware of her manipulative tactics, witnessing how she utilized flirtation, manipulation, and exploitative relationships as a means to escape the perils of hunger and homelessness.

My childhood was characterized by a lack of material possessions. I grew up without any knowledge or connection to my father, and the subject of his absence was a topic we intentionally avoided. Throughout my upbringing, it was just my mother and me, navigating life's challenges together. While some people may have labeled my mother as belonging to a socioeconomically disadvantaged group otherwise known as w*********h, she had managed to secure a relationship with Victor Donovan, even if it was only for appearances.

I have no idea how my mother met Victor Donovan but I recalled the day our little apartment was invaded by men who are bent on extracting information from my mother. They'd beaten and r***d her and even I was not spared.

My fists clenched as the scene replayed in my head in a fleeting flash, large, sweaty men taking turns on my mother. I was thirteen. With the promise to return they’d left. My mother took care of me, she made me soak in hot, salty water, repeatedly telling me it was going to be fine.

The following day, a man arrived to escort us to meet with Victor Donovan. Memories of our initial encounter flooded my mind, vividly recalling the striking image he presented: a towering figure, with lustrous dark hair, broad shoulders that seemed to defy logic, and impeccably dressed in a suit that undoubtedly cost a fortune. A contingent of around ten men surrounded him, clearly emphasizing his significance and authority.

I was whisked away, unable to partake in the conversation that transpired between my mother and Victor Donovan. However, from that moment onward, he graciously provided us with shelter, sparing us the need to return to our modest apartment. My mother ceased her work in hotels, and I found solace in our newfound abode. The grandeur of the house enveloped us, offering a sense of security I had never experienced before. It was a sanctuary I yearned to remain in, never desiring to depart its comforting embrace.

One night, with the house enveloped in slumber, I stealthily ventured toward Victor Donovan's chamber. My meticulous observation of the house staff and guards had revealed the opportune moment for me to proceed. Finally, I arrived at the entrance to Victor Donovan's room, its grandeur beckoning me inside. As I pushed open the weighty door, I stepped into an expanse of opulence unparalleled by any previous encounter. The room exudes luxury in every detail, from the intricately carved furnishings to the sparkling chandeliers that adorned the ceiling.

Victor Donovan lay peacefully on his bed, his powerful presence emanating even in slumber, his sheer size commanding attention. His sculpted torso was exposed, its masculine contours discernible beneath the delicate sheets. With a graceful descent to my knees, my eyes fixated on his tranquil form, and there, beneath the layers of fabric, I could sense the pulsating presence of his desire.

Being my mother's daughter, I possessed a deep understanding of the male physique and what stimulates their desires. As I carefully peeled back the sheets, a sense of anticipation filled the room. Gradually, I unveiled his chiseled physique, savoring each moment. My gaze fixated on his growing arousal, pulsating with desire between his legs. With deliberate movements, I gracefully removed my dress. Reaching out for him, I delicately caressed the broad tip with my lips, moistening it with my warm saliva. A gratifying moan escaped Victor Donovan's lips, a familiar indication of pleasure I had learned from previous encounters. Firmly grasping his shaft, I skillfully pumped and took him deeper into my mouth, savoring the sensations that engulfed us both.

"What... Jessica? What are you doing?" he gasped, raising his head from the pillow. I didn't falter; instead, I held his gaze and emulated my mother's seductive smile. "Holy hell!" he groaned, sinking back onto the pillows. I straddled him, firmly grasping his ankle, and continued pleasuring him. The room resonated with his moans.

At that moment, I felt victorious, believing that I had succeeded in driving him to the point of no return. As I tasted his release, I eagerly attempted to impale myself on him, but he halted my movements. "No, Jessica. That's enough. You've had your fun," he asserted, reaching out to me, his grip firm on my forearm. Confusion and desperation welled up within me. What had I done wrong? He had moaned, he had seemed to enjoy it! Would he now kick us out because of my misstep? Leaning over him, I presented a wavering smile, attempting to conceal my fear.

"What is it, old man? Don't you like them young?"

"Jessica, this is not appropriate," he admonished, his voice strained. But I maintained my grip around his engorged shaft, teasingly pressing my breasts against his chest as I positioned myself above him. With deliberate slowness, I guided his broad tip along the slickness of my wet p***y. I saw him swallow hard and a surge of triumph rushed through me. "You are too young," he rasped.

"I'm sixteen, and I can assure you I'm far from being a virgin," I whispered seductively, locking my gaze with his.

"Damn it to hell…." he exclaimed as I straddled him and guided him inside me. "Jess…."

"Yes, Daddy," I taunted playfully, noticing a dark glimmer in his eyes.

"Be careful," he warned, his voice low and raw. I continued to move slowly, observing his lashes flutter as I straddled him. The grip on my forearm tightened, almost bruising, but I paid no heed. Gradually, I picked up the pace, suppressing the overwhelming pleasure that surged through me. The sensation of riding Victor Donovan filled me with a potent sense of power.