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Possum Prison Pussy

Part 5: Pussy Popping Quiz

Sneak Peek

***

The beginning of breakfast was relatively uneventful. The only thing that was different was that Sylva sat in an actual chair. At least Sylva found it fairly uneventful until Magnus' finished his breakfast, sat back in his chair, and ran a hand over the possum's thigh. Magnus had never done anything like this before. He had always petted his head like he was some prized dog or rubbed his back, but this time, his massive hand rested on his thigh. Despite Sylva's wide hips and ample cushion, that massive hand practically eclipsed his thigh. It slid up and down, brushing the soft, supple curves of his leg.

That was until the elephant's fingers dipped inward. Sylva had to keep himself from coughing up his oatmeal as Magnus' hand slipped between the possum's thick thighs, those massive digits demanding he spread his legs. The bleach damaged scrubs didn't do anything for the possum's figure, but his legs and ass always made up for the boxy nature of his top. Sylva spread his legs slowly so as to not attract any unwanted attention, his shoe brushing up against Magnus'. The man had massive feet. Sylva felt like his shoe was that of a toddler's next to the massive elephant prison lord.

Sylva looked up at Magnus for a brief moment and he gave a little nod of approval. Sylva couldn't be sure if the big man was directing it to him, but he assumed it was. He continued to spread his legs to give his prison daddy unfettered access. Sylva had to lift his foot and place it on top of Magnus', then beyond, before he was hooking it around the massive man's ankle.

“Good," Magnus rumbled. It was deep and sultry. Sylva couldn't be sure if that was directed to him or to the conversation that was going on, but Magnus wasn't showing any signs of stopping or giving him any order that he was doing something wrong. Sylva knew deep in his bones if he fucked this up he would be in a world of hurt, and he didn't know if Magnus would be in such a forgiving mood to let him go back on light duty.

Sylva had to suppress a little yip by biting his lip. Magnus' pinky, the massive finger as large as a normal man's thumb, brushed his pussy.

“Very good," Magnus rumbled as his finger found his little clit and started to play with it. Gentle circles around that little bullet as his petals warmed. This was the most gentle he had ever been with the possum. Hell, this was the most gentle anyone besides Whispers was with his pussy. It was such an achingly wonderful contrast to the normal ground and pound that it sent shockwaves through his thighs. His hamstrings quivered and his toes flexed as he gripped onto Magnus' leg under the table, his chair silently skidding closer to Magnus before Sylva stopped. He didn't want to alert anyone to what was happening under the table.

Sylva glanced around, everyone was either eating or talking. Everyone except one. Whispers had his eyes locked on Sylva, a gentle curve of his lips set into a smile. He nodded, but it wasn't at Sylva, it was at Magnus. Sylva glanced back up at the elephant. He had a cocky smirk cracking that permanent scowl, the thick, black stubble on his muzzle showing the way his skin wrinkled under that smirk as though it were so foreign his body didn't naturally bend that way.

Sylva gave a little gasp as Magnus' finger started to swirl faster, he quickly covered his mouth and faked a cough. Everyone glanced at the possum for a second, his cheeks burning as he went back to eating his food. A few sets of eyes lingered, but a glance at Magnus and they were looking down again, covering up any suspicions they had. If they knew, they also knew better than to speak up against Magnus.

Sylva had to hold back his sighs and little whimpers, instead opting to grip onto Magnus' leg whenever he was doing something right. Sylva's toes fanned, his thighs quaked, his cheeks burned, he didn't know what else to do besides sit there and take it.

“That's a good girl," Magnus growled into his ear. Sylva practically jumped out of his skin. The big guy must have finished his meeting and leaned in to give the possum a private conversation, the elephant's ears bending to cover their faces. “Three of the people know, half of them think they do, and the other half are oblivious. Tell me the names of the one's who know and I'll give you a little treat."

Sylva's eyes went wide. He was happy that this little public foreplay was going so well, but he didn't think he'd be quizzed!

“Tell me now or I'll break your leg," Magnus' voice was deep and sultry, his last cigar clinging to his threat. Did he think saying that was going to turn him on!?

“Whispers," Sylva almost spoke it, but managed to hush his tone just in time to cover it up.

“Good," Magnus rumbled, his pinky lifting up and slipping under the hem of his scrubs, dipping into the humid, damp, warmth of his panties. “Next?"

Magnus lifted his ear to let Sylva glance at the table. Ears had a cocky grin on his muzzle as he sank his teeth into a pear.

“Ears," Sylva guessed.

“Good," Magnus' breath was hot in the possum's ear, his words tinged with the tobacco and whisky the little possum craved. “And the last?"

Sylva glanced around the table quickly, his eyes trying to lock with everyone else to surmise exactly who else Magnus was referring to.

“I…I don't know," Sylva breathed, that pinky flicking slightly so the thick nail pressed against his clit painfully.

“Guess or I'll make good on my threat," Magnus growled.

Sylva bit his lip, his legs quivering and trying to close, but he knew better than to close his legs on his prison daddy. He quickly scanned the table again. No one else was looking. Either they were ignoring them, or they had one hell of a poker face.

Poker face!

“Checkers," Sylva whispered. “Checkers knows."

Magnus paused, a brief moment of surprise. He didn't think that his little possum pocket pussy would actually figure it out. Sylva simply stayed frozen, fear paralyzing him in that moment of absolute vulnerability.

Magnus' finger slid down, his nail moving away and being replaced with the calloused fingerprint of that prison lord. His finger slipped up and down over that glistening clit. Sylva's shoulders relaxed as he sighed in relief as that pinky worked its way over its property.

“Good girl," Magnus rumbled. “Either you're a good guesser, or you're not as dumb as you look."

“Th-Thanks Boss," Sylva muttered, making sure his fear steeped into his whisper. He didn't have to fake it, he knew how much danger he was in, and he knew Magnus loved reminding him of it every chance he got.

“Checkers has taught you some manners too, huh?" Magnus murred. “Good girl."

“I…I learned that from you, Boss," Sylva attributed his newfound respect and manners to his prison daddy. “No…no one…shows Boss any…" Sylva gulped, trying to keep his breathing even as sweat trickled down his back. “No one shows Boss disrespect without severe punishment."

“Oh? When did I teach you that?" Magnus wanted an answer. Sylva could tell with how Magnus' voice got deeper he was playing this game right.

“When…when that man…during my first week…you had him beaten…and…"

“Yes, and?" Magnus urged Sylva on, his pinky sinking lower and playing with that hole, tracing circles around it, teasing his entrance.

“And when…Diesel…was dragged off all…all bloodied," Sylva had to bite his cheek from giving out a shuddering O face as Magnus' pinky slowly slipped into his depths and immediately teasing his g-spot.

“Good girl, you learn quick," Magnus sat there, rumbling, his finger playing with Sylva's velvety folds. Above, Sylva looked the normal amount of terrified he usually did, though his cheeks were a rosy red. Though, below his leg was gripping onto Magnus' powerful calf as his tail twitched, his thighs quivered, his toes splayed as he was toyed with by the man who owned his ass.

“Now, tell me who knows?" Magnus ordered.

Sylva glanced around the table, everyone was looking at him or trying to avoid eye contact.

“Everyone?" Sylva tried to mutter, but Magnus sank his finger in slightly deeper at that exact moment and made Sylva speak it louder.

“That's right, and you know why they let me?"

“Because…mmm…you…you own…this pussy?"

“No," Magnus leaned into the possum's ear. “Because I own this fucking prison and everyone in it. I can do whatever I want to you, whenever I want. There is no safe room, there is no muscle, there is no guard that can keep me from doing what I'm doing to you right now."

Sylva bit his lip, his cheeks burning as he was played with in front of everyone.

“Shit, you're getting wetter. Does being my bitch really make you quiver that much?"

“Who…Who wouldn't…Boss…"

“Oh no," Magnus slipped another finger into Sylva and this time he had to stifle a cry of pleasure, unsuccessfully as it slipped between his lenched teeth. “When I'm playing with you, you call me Daddy. Did Checkers not teach you right?"

“No," Sylva's eyes went wide. “No, Checkers taught me right. I'm…I'm just…just a dumb bitch sometimes…"

Magnus chuckled darkly.

“Then why don't I take you to the nearest safe room and you can show me exactly what he's taught you."

“Whatever you say Bo—Daddy," Sylva corrected himself and Magnus gave nod of approval. Magnus's hand slipped out of Sylva's scrubs and the possum gave a little yip at the sudden removal of that powerful digit.

“Stand, follow," Magnus grunted his order.

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