Negan - Tribes and Tribulations (Part 2)

Confusing Revelations

Her fingers slipped against the pool of wetness in your panties. They grazed your throbbing clit, and you shivered in delight. "Don't fret, honey. I'll help you forget about him..." The pace of her fingers increased, and the stimulation made you squirm. A warm, tingling sensation started to build in your gut. You moaned quietly. Her eyes flickered. "What's your connection with Negan?"

"He...ahhh...he captured me," you answered as her fingers traced your soaked clit.

"The man must not be a very good host if he deprived you of cigarettes," she pried, pointing in the hunting knife at your lips. The frost in her eyes expanded. "Are you his prisoner or his plaything?" Her question rendered you speechless. You scoured your brain for a legitimate answer to her inquiry, but you had none. Not knowing how to respond, your eyes darted here and there. She applied more pressure to the blade; trying to make words leak from your lips. But the perplexity in your irises was apparent. Her nostrils flared as if she could smell your puzzlement. "Oh, I see," she began like she'd solved an equation. "You're both."

Alpha was correct. You hadn't recognized the development of your feelings for Negan, until this instance. Her hum of affirmation made you bow your head--she successfully extracted the secret in your soul. Without noticing its emergence, you'd been unconsciously afflicted with a serious case of Stockholm Syndrome. For no justifiable reason whatsoever, you'd become attached to Negan. The gears in your mind whirred wildly. How could she have known if I didn't even see it? Against your better judgment, you shook your head in denial. "That's not our relationship," you claimed. Squinting her eyes, Alpha lifted the blade and slashed your arm. "FUCK!" You cried out in pain; she ripped a gash the length of a pencil in your left arm. The knife must've been meticulously sharpened because your cut didn't bleed immediately--the opening was pale-pink before the exposed pores began to ooze. Seconds later, a river of crimson rushed from your fresh wound. You hissed through your tightened jaw.

"Shhhhh..." she hushed your sniveling. "Whisper..." Her demeanor remained calm and cool; she seemed unaffected by her administration of torture. No remorse. No shame. To her, you were just a toy. "Dishonesty merits punishment. Try to trick me again, and you'll get another mark...and another, and another." She snickered at your trembling lip. Tears formed in your eyes. Lowering her weapon, she kissed your cheek. You didn't dare resist. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I know Negan...more so than anyone would suspect."

What? you thought in shock. But how? You tilted your head as you panted in torment.

She elaborated, "Jackie darling, I know how he works. He's a conniving bastard. Selfish, deceptive, and charming enough to keep you coming back for more." Sliding her hand down your pants further, she slowly inserted her fingers in your slick entrance. A feverish flood washed over you, and you closed your eyes. "Though he's a good fuck, he has no morals. He'll do whatever he can to get what he wants. That's the nature of a man."

Her two fingers slipped deeper into your pussy. Desperately, you impeded the movement of your hips. "H-how do you...mmmm...know him?" you queried through a sigh of desire. The sudden pleasure drowned your agony.

Unexpectedly, the wicked smile on her face morphed into a stone-cold scowl. Her hazel eyes grew distant in thought. Exhaling while sifting through her memories, she murmured, "I'll tell you this because you may soon perish..."

Your eyes widened. Your palms started to sweat. Your heart stopped. Either she doesn't think I'll survive in this world for much longer...or she's going to murder me. Captivated by her upcoming confession, you listened closely.

"Negan does not yet know who we are," she explained in reference to the Whisperers. "But he used to know me...before the outbreak." The malignant aura she once radiated gradually dimmed. She looked through you as if you were invisible. "I was dying of cancer," she sighed. "The doctors discovered a brain tumor. I was terminally ill..."