Prison!Duncan having conjugal visits once a month with his girl, and during one he's fucking her really rough but then he breaks down and starts crying because he misses her so much.
OMG YES UGH
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Money was the only reason Duncan Shepherd was allowed monthly conjugal visits. The other inmates hazed him for it, for the screams and sounds that would emanate from Duncan’s cell room as he pounded you into next week. But Duncan doesn’t give a fuck. Not if it means he gets to see you.
His grunts fall thick and heavy in your ear. He’s grown so fit, muscles flexing underneath your fingertips as he holds your body against the nearby wall. Your legs are too jellied to stay standing yourself. His hips snap into yours, the pace rough enough to bring tears to your eyes as whines leave your lips.
‘Fuck I look forward to this.’ His breath fans over your face, the smell of mint wafting over you. ‘The only thing keeping me sane is you and this sweet sweet pussy baby.’
‘Duncan, don’t stop.’ You bleat, head falling back against the wall as he edges you for the fifth time that day.
‘If I stop then it’s over and you leave again.’ His voice catches, but Duncan’s hips resume their brutal thrusts as you squeal. His cock is deep enough to feel him in your stomach, you clench around him, fluttering as your orgasm tips you over the edge. Duncan shoves his hips against you, his head falling against your shoulder as he cums too, filling you up with his seed.
You pant heavily, vision blurred as that euphoric rush of completion settles within your bones. ‘God, I love you Duncan.’
He doesn’t answer. His shoulder lifting and then you feel something wet seeping into your top. ‘D...Duncan?’
You’ve never seen him cry.
He clings to you, Duncan’s sobs getting worse as he nuzzles his nose against your neck before pressing a kiss there. ‘It’s everything when you’re here.’ He whispers, ‘And then you have to go again and leave me here. And life isn’t worth living for another twenty-nine days.’
‘Duncan,’ Your fingers run through his hair as Duncan looks up into your eyes. ‘You have to hang in there. I love you and I’m here waiting for you. You’ve only another four months.’
Tears decorate his cheeks. Duncan’s stubble is wilder now, his eyes dark and his general demeanour always has a tint of anger. ‘I can’t!’ He cries, ‘I’m going fucking crazy in here.’
You’ve seen how he marks the days on the calendar pinned to a wall. There’s angry, blotchy red X’s everywhere.
You pull him in for a kiss, putting all your passion behind it. ‘There is so much waiting for you baby.’ You whisper, ‘So much that we will experience together. This will all be behind us.’
He’s reeling, you’re losing him. Duncan’s head rolls back and he cries openly, big heaving wails that wrack your bodies. You cry too, his anguish hitting you full on as you kiss him again to bring him back to you. ‘Duncan, please.’ You beg.
‘You’re my whole world.’
‘Then stay strong.’ You place his hand on your stomach, ‘Be with me, a free man when our son is born.’
visiting dunc in prison 😔 and his mom uses her corrupt businesswoman ways to get him out 🤪
PRISON DUNCAN HITS DIFFERENT!!
His hair is a little grown out, shaggier, and styled freely. His facial hair is a little scruffier, the bags under his eyes more prominent. Maybe his lip is a little cut up from a fight.
Maybe you and Annette go visit him together, but being the overbearing mother she is, she doesn’t let you get a word in during your visit. Until Duncan finally stands and slams his hands down on the table and says something like, “Will you just let her speak? Just give us a minute!!” (making the guards start to approach him; but his mother tells them its fine)
And once he’s finally “alone” (bc the guards are still right there) he reaches for your hand and you can see the pain and exhaustion behind his eyes. Before you even realize it, tears are rolling down your cheek. He reaches forward and wipes the tear off your cheek with his thumb.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.
“I just miss you so much.” you sob. He wants to so badly, not be cuffed - he wants to walk around the table and embrace you. Smell you scent, hold you in his arms and never let you go.
But he can’t. And he regrets everything that led him here today.
Summary: You’ve just made your relationship with Jim official, however it isn’t long before Jim starts to smother you, fixating on your relationship to cope with the damage in his life. As Jim grows obsessive what will you be forced to do? What will he do to win you back?
Warning: Gaslighting!!!! Borderline abuse! Kidnapping! Contains an obsessive and unhealthy relationship! Swearing probably! Drug use! Emotional Manipulation! Obsessive love! Stalking! Fluff! Again I warn you now, Jim Mason is one twisted beach boy in this!!!!!!!!
A/N: My goodness, it has been a while hasn’t it! It was time to get this bad boy out again. I always knew this was the direction the story was going in and I hope those of you guessing will be satisfied with this chapter. The ending is slightly controversial and I really was debating it, so do let me know if you approve of the slight twist or not! I think there will be one more part and then this series will be finished. (Dana finishing a series OMG I know right!!) 😱😱😱😱
Jim says I’ve earned a treat.
As I stick in another photograph from our most recent trip to the beach I can feel my hands tacky from glue. God, that was something I always loved when I was a child. The simple joy of peeling glue off your fingers.
I haven’t felt like a child in a long time now.
Out of pure habit more than anything else, I mark the back of the photograph with the number 33. It hits me like a sucker-punch, despite having counted everyday. Tomorrow I will have been Mrs Mason for an entire month. I close the album quickly, the words Happy Memories taunting me.
One photograph a day to mark my eternal imprisonment.
I suppose I’ve had some kind of sick hope that should someone ever discover us, it’s proof of my capture. That I was an unwilling victim. It’s the only way I know how to rebel against Jim. He loves checking what I’ve added, like clockwork Jim will sit on the sofa, bring the album towards him and pour over the daily addition. He always says I’m the best photographer he’s ever known. That no one can capture love or his diamond eyes quite like I can.
I was once used that phrase to describe him. One night eons ago when we swapped confessions of love, when we shared what we loved most about each other. Jim’s eyes sparkle like the rarest glint of diamond, but now all I see is the cold, sharp cut of intellect. Every sweep of those eyes is calculated. Jim still suspects that one day I will up and leave him. That I will find a way.
He’s right.
I haven’t given up hope.
I can’t.
Alongside my tradition of one photo per day, I treat myself to one attempt to crack Jim’s password. I have tried once everyday, fishing it out from under the bed or wherever Jim has left it and give it a go.
I’m still not in and I ran out of options four days ago.
Out of habit more than any bright idea, I scoop the laptop up from the coffee table and check the clock on the fireplace. I have an hour till Jim arrives home. The laptop comes to life, that same little picture of Blue (Jim’s Avatar) comes on-screen with that same little bar demanding a password.
There’s a new post-it note today.
That is new.
Getting wedding day date engraved on back of rings.
Jim is not the type to leave memos around the place for himself. And it definitely isn’t for me. I snag my lip behind a tooth, recalling how Jim raced about the house this morning on his way to work. He didn’t even have time to have a coffee, having stayed up all night with me due to my most recent bout of sickness.
I think long and hard. Is it a simple mistake? Did Jim mean to rip it off and crumple it up before I ever saw it?
The message itself is harmless enough.
I let the idea go, no huge brainwave coming over me and just type the word - beach.
The laptop comes up with its infamous X and I dump it back on the coffee table. I hadn’t hoped for anything, but I just couldn’t think of anything better.
I make my way into the kitchen and put on the kettle. I’m going to treat myself to a hot chocolate, I don’t give a crap what Jim says about cutting back on sugar. I warm the milk and drop in some real milk chocolate to give it that extra boost as I mull over the day. Blue is snoozing in the middle of the kitchen, spread out like a giant fluffy carpet.
An entire month of this life.
But no. It isn’t a month.
It’s a month since I woke up. But we were married before that, I just don’t remember it.
My hand stops stirring, the milk burning but I’m lost in thought. Adrenaline fills me as I abandon my hot chocolate and tear upstairs. I seize the infernal wedding album and pour over the front. Jim has stuck our marriage license on the very first page, like a giant confirmation that everything was real. That we are indeed married and I did indeed sign my name and my entire life away to him.
12/06/2019
The date we were married. Only three days before I woke up.
My senses are tingling as I put the album back in it’s spot and fly back down the stairs. I check the time again as I seize Jim’s laptop.
Twenty minutes.
Fuck it.
I type in the date, foregoing the slashes.
12062019
The laptop thinks and then, the homepage dances before my eyes.
I scream in triumph, my fists clenching together as my whole being shakes with victory.
Finally.
I dive for Jim’s emails immediately. I have to use all the time I’ve got, otherwise Jim may change the password and I’ll be at square one again. There’s hardly anything there, just work emails from the pool. Nothing juicy or revealing. I search for specific things - wedding. wife. Album. Ring.
Nothing.
I click out of Jim’s emails and go through his folders. Again it’s family photos, wedding photos and just Jim’s life. There’s nothing weird or out of place.
I can feel the surge of hope dwindling fast.
It catches my eye, so fast I’ve already closed the file and have to re-open it. A lone jpeg file amongst endless tax documents, Jim’s budgeting and other expenses. The file name is jargon, but the jpeg alone caught my attention.
I open it up.
It’s a picture of a receipt. A jewellers with a big figure attached to the total. This is the receipt from my wedding ring.
I zoom in as best as I can and there it is, the date.
14/06/2019.
I’m no whiz at math, but I can do the addition.
I woke up three days after the wedding - our wedding on the 12th of June.
How could Jim marry me….without a ring?
The key jiggles in the front door and I move like lightning. I close the folders and log out of Jim’s account. I place the laptop on the coffee table and run into the kitchen right as Blue comes flying towards the door. I collide with the mound of fur and I’m sent sprawling on the floor right as Jim’s voice floats towards us. ‘Hello boy, down! Yes I’m glad to see you to buddy.’
I pull myself up as Jim tears over to me, ‘Y/N, love what happened!’
‘Dog.’ I grumble, my hand jumping to the back of my head.
Jim throws a mildly stern look at Blue. ‘Need some ice?’
I nod, blinking a few times. I push myself off the floor, watching Jim head into the kitchen. He returns with a pan in hand, ‘Love, were you trying to burn the house down?’
‘I forgot about that.’
It’s true, I completely forgot my desire for hot chocolate. The milk has congealed and burned into a disgusting mess of liquid burned chocolate. Jim makes a face, ‘I won’t ask what you were trying to do.’
‘Hot chocolate.’
Jim fishes the ice out of the fridge, ‘We spoke about cutting out sugar, Y/N.’
‘You did.’ I retort before I can help myself, ‘I was never onboard with it.’
There’s a pause between us. I hold my breath, waiting for Jim’s reaction. A smile breaks out on his face and he hands over the ice, ‘True. I did make the decision for us.’
I hold the ice on the back of my head, ‘And you know how I feel about that.’
‘Oh I most certainly do.’ Jim watches me tend to the lump. It’s aching a little, but I’m more than grateful for the distraction. ‘You still wanna go out for your treat?’
‘Depends on where we are going.’
Jim smile widens, ‘You know I love that spitfire voice of yours.’
That takes me off guard, ‘I thought you like me as your perfect little housewife?’
Jim steps closer, taking over the icing duty. He holds it gently to my head, ’I know you will never be my obedient little wife.’ He murmurs, ‘I wouldn’t want to change who you are, despite your confusion over everything. Your snark shows me that you are the woman I married.’ He places a kiss to my neck, ‘The woman I love.’
I shoot him back my own smile, ‘So where are we going?’
Jim takes me to the living room. He grabs the laptop and logs in so fast my eyes don’t have time to process it. My heart beats faster but I covered my tracks perfectly. Jim opens safari and navigates too Regal Cinemas.
‘I thought a movie would be perfect for us. You can pick whichever you like.’
Jim pushes over the laptop. It’s the first time he has ever let me use it. I glance to him and then the listings.
‘That…is a nice idea.’
It’s smart too. In a dark cinema who could ever spot us among the others. I inspect the movies and see that every single one is in 3D or 4D. Glasses too, to cover us up even more.
‘Spiderman is good.’
Jim nods, ‘I’m down for that. I’ve seen every single Marvel movie.’
‘Me too.’
Jim sends me a warm smile, ‘We can compare notes then afterwards.’
He sends me upstairs to dress and I get ready as quickly as I can. Despite my latest revelation, I can’t deny the thrill inside me. I’ve been desperate to see something other than the house and the beach. To be in public again with my husband.
To be somewhat normal.
Jim approves of my choice of a lacey purple top. His eyes wander over my cleavage multiple times throughout the drive till we arrive into a parking spot. ‘We could forgo the movie altogether,’ He suggests, Jim’s hand squeezing my thigh.
‘Baby no.’ I protest, ‘I really wanna see a movie.’
Jim nods, ‘I know you do.’
He grabs the tickets while I queue for a snack. Jim joins me as I peruse the popcorn, ‘You know I like sweet popcorn,’ I say.
‘I do.’
‘But sugar?’
Jim orders a large sweet popcorn anyway, ‘It’s your treat.’
I fight back a genuine smile as we show our tickets and enter the screening room. Jim’s hand holds mine tight as we make our way to the row. I drop my coat off, about to plop myself in the seat when there’s a shriek from above us. ‘Jim! Jim Mason!’
Jim’s head turns fast enough to give him whiplash. There’s a flash of white as a girl throws herself into his arms - Heather.
She releases him just enough to recognise me, ‘And Y/N…you’re still together?’
‘Yes.’ Jim says before I can answer, ‘Very much together.’
Heather hugs me too, I think just for show. ‘Everyone’s talking about you two. I cannot believe I am the first to see the both of you. It’s been what-‘
‘Heather.’ Jim’s voice is stern, ‘The movie is about to start.’
I ignore Jim, desperate for more information. ‘You mean since the wedding?’
Heather’s eyes bulge, ‘Wedding?’ She catches my ring, ‘Oh my fucking God. You eloped.’
‘You were there.’ I insist, my eyes flicking to Jim.
He is lying to me.
‘Heather. Great to see you, but movie.’ Jim says, tugging me down beside him.
Heather nods, ‘You have to fill me in after though.’
Jim nods, a curt thing which is more of a warning than anything else. The second Heather is gone, Jim laces my left hand in his, his thumb stroking my ring. ‘She’s so stupid.’ He says, ‘Fucking at the wedding and doesn’t remember a thing. She was probably wasted on the free bar.’
I don’t question him. Not out in public. Not when Heather may have just given me another nugget of valuable information.
I mull through her words the entire movie, hardly taking any of it in, committing it to memory.
Everyone’s talking about you two.
I cannot believe I am the first to see you.
Heather didn’t know about the wedding. She’s on Honour Roll, plus she would not forget her ex is now married.
Jim makes us leave before the end credits, insisting we can catch them on Youtube and everyone waiting is just a sucker. It’s an obvious attempt to stop me from talking to Heather and I let him have that tiny victory.
I have everything I need.
The ring receipt, Heather and Jim’s behaviour.
If I married Jim Mason, there was no wedding. Which means the photo album is a fake.
But how?
Jim takes me straight up to bed that night. I settle into his arms without complaint. Jim’s at his best right now, he’s being a model man because he knows the wheels in my head must be turning. He presses little kisses to my neck, the big spoon to my little one. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ He murmurs, ‘I don’t think I could go on.’
‘I’d want you to.’ I mumble my line on cue, ‘You have to promise me you’d carry on.’
‘Couldn’t.’ Jim reassures me, ‘I’m with you forever. Till the very end.’
‘Stop quoting Harry Potter.’ I smile, feeling Jim blow a raspberry on my neck.
‘Never.’
His hand slips around my stomach, Jim’s snores filling the bedroom. I watch the canopy drift in the breeze from the window cracked just barely open. I wait until I know Jim is completely unconscious before taking his before-bed glass of water with me and washing away all traces of the benzodiazepines.
With any luck Jim will wake a little groggy but with no other side effects.
But I’m no chemist, I wouldn’t even know about benzodiazepine if Jim didn’t take them regularly ever since we were dating.
I didn’t think he would ever dare to use them on me.
I toss the pill bottle into the trash can outside. Garbage collection is tomorrow, meaning Jim won’t be able to dose me with anymore of his ‘medication’ should something go wrong tomorrow. He’s got nothing but brute force against me now. The playing field is a little more even.
Jim takes benzodiazepine fairly regularly, so his tolerance will be much lower than mine. I reckon I’ve got the night, maybe tomorrow if I’m lucky. I creep downstairs and take Jim’s laptop into the dining room with me. It might take all night to find a trace of those fake photos.
And I need as much time as I can get before Jim wakes.
It’s harder to stay away by four am. I’ve found nothing so far and my exhaustion is going to defeat me soon.
Jim cannot find me asleep on his laptop.
That isn’t an option.
Five am and I find it. A folder tucked away inside a blank one. It too is blank, but when I click through the photos from the wedding album are there. But they’re different.
I see the photo of Medina, beaming as my bridesmaid. But the photo before me has her with Jim. A photograph of me with my head on Jim’s shoulder has been completely re-edited. It’s like someone has played dress-up, swapping backgrounds and bodies out and pasting on wedding attire.
The more I look through the sicker I become.
Fabricated.
The entire thing was just a lie.
At the very end there’s an email saved as a PDF.
Dear Mr Mason.
Here are the edits you requested. Naturally I cannot oversee the final product myself given my circumstances, but I have been informed it is some of my team’s finest work. I assure you those who created these pictures are among the best editors the foundation has. They are well equipped with smoothing scandals or incriminating people when the occasion calls for it. I can guarantee all were handpicked by me to run this business and are paid handsomely to ensure discretion.
Why you would want such photos is beyond me, but I do not ask questions.
I expect no mention of myself or my team to hit the tabloids, if there is a headline this contract will go public. Thank you for the money up front and I trust if you ever need my services again you will not hesitate to contact me upon my release.
Do yall really think Duncan would do good in prison?? Hes a brat, people in prison would honestly make fun of him, unless he got into a nice prison (which probs he did) haha poor thing -drunk anon
At first I read this as “do yall really think duncan would look good in prison” and i was gonna be like hell yea!! lmfao
Hm, well.. I don’t think he would have gone to a maximum security prison (idk what his crimes were but i doubt white collar crimes would get him there?? plus he for sure has a power team of attorneys) so maybe he’s in a privileged prison w a whole bunch of other trust fund babies lmfaooo.
but in all honesty.. if he were in like a real hardcore prison i can see him being put in his place real quick. like maybe he tried mouthing off to a guard or another inmate and things get dicey lol
BUT I think he’s a smooth talker so he’d probably be able to get a few other inmates to vouch for him/follow him.
