Match, point... game

Chapter five:
The game

George gnawed at her thumb sides anxiously, glaring at the wall. She had come here to think, but strangely enough, to think lately she needed to be around other bodies. And so she had come here, to where most of the double max prisoners congregated to talk smack, strategy, sell random shit they had come across, barter for sex, and what’s worse, gossip, gossip, and more gossip. But here, she was safe. Here she could think in peace without having to constantly look over her shoulder to make sure the very guy that she was now obsessing over wasn’t right there, staring at her, like he had taken up to doing. Or… what she thought he had taken up to doing.

She had thought, on some odd occasions, that when she looked up from her cell and stared out into the shadows around her, that she would see his glowing, eerie eyes piercing into her very being. She kept telling herself that it was just her getting paranoid and delusional, that it was life of the Slam that was warping her mind, more so, into something even more morbid and perverse. If she wasn’t careful she would end up like Luke. So, after having enough of the feeling of constantly being watched she had stalked towards the gathering point on the fifth ring with Ave and the other inmates to lounge around and wither in the stifling heat and body odor that was their life. Currently the red haired woman was lounged out on a stretch of metal that she supposed had once held a bed and was staring up at the ceiling above her, lost in thought but still excruciatingly aware of her surroundings. Here she was safe, here she could think, and here she could start to dispel whatever rumors were floating around about her that the others had concocted. Not that she cared… but it would be better if the guards didn’t catch on that her and Riddick might be planning an escape attempt or were together in anyway at all.

Humility was a painful pill to swallow. She was the prey in this twisted relationship. She was his to toy with because she had no choice, she was the mouse and he was the humongous lion that had just decided that she would be fun to mess with and swat around. Only this wasn’t mere swatting, no, this was confusing her sexual needs, coming around, pinning her to something, making out with her like her saliva was the only thing he had to drink for days on end, and then vanish, leaving her flustered and confused. She was nothing, she couldn’t stop it anymore than any of the guards could stop him in a hand to hand fight. And she was pretty damn sure that she didn’t want it to stop.

She was no child. She was a grown woman who had been with more men than she could count; it was part of the job after all. Use your feminine whiles and you could get a man to tell you anything just about, especially if you promised a suck here and a fuck there. She considered her body a tool just like her gun, the things that she had in her belt up in the depository with the damn warden, and the metal biting into her hip and causing a new scar. If she happened to actually be attracted to the guy then they both got pleasure, she got information, and sometimes, she killed the guy afterwards like she was supposed to, then so be it, she wouldn’t argue. It all worked out in the end in
Georgina’s world when it was like that. But Riddick, oh he was a different story. She was so used to being the dominator in all of her other encounters that being put into a submissive role like this was baffling and foreign, to the point where she almost didn’t’ recognize the foreplay as foreplay at all but tomfoolery and trickery. She recognized the signs though, oh god did she recognize the signs. The fact that he had even dared to lift up her shirt like that was one of them, that he had been so aggressive was another, and the mere feel of his eyes whenever he looked at her sometimes was like he was starving and greedy.

She also was devastatingly conscious of the fact that she was now so attracted to the man she couldn’t think straight when he was around. It wasn’t anything to do with affection or gentleness or whatever the hell a real relationship revolved around, like the grand total of four she’d ever had. No… this one was carnal, primitive, almost violent and possessive. She was merely physically drawn to him, powerfully, and she was getting to the point where she was holding back considerably to not just jump on him every time she saw him. It was pathetic. It was stupid. And it was weak. She was going to break herself of this before it broke her and had her at his feet like some little slave girl, begging for a good fucking. She would die before she submitted to the will of someone else.

“George?” George ignored Ave’s voice and instead drifted father into her thoughts. She didn’t know what it was about Riddick that suddenly had her wanted to rip his clothes off and do the nasty with him. He scared the shit out of her for fuck’s sake! Maybe it was in that fear, that anxiety, that laid the innate attraction that wouldn’t leave her alone.

When someone just about rolled her off of the ring and into the darkness waiting below she wheeled around, bringing her arms out and wrapping firmly around the assailants neck, holding them in a choke hold. It was only when she caught the familiar sight of dingy blond hair and the girls now nearly black tank that she let Ave go with a start. Whapping the now frightened teen upside the head she leaned back. “What?” she snapped, glancing around quickly to make sure that her assessment of Riddick had been right. She had never seen him anywhere near large gatherings of people, it was like he was allergic to such numbers and steered clear of them like they were the plague. It was her saving grace if only for a few hours.

“You’ve been all spacey since we got here. Aren’t you going to at least try and be sociable?” the teenager demanded, pouting pathetically at her.

George blinked a few times, hoping she had heard the child wrong, but when all the girl did was stare at her like this was a valid reason for nearly killing her she slapped her palm to her forehead. Sometimes she wondered where all the common sense in the universe had gone… People were just getting more and more foolish with each passing day, and sadly, lately, she included herself in this increasing fray of blithering buffoons. Why else would she suddenly want to let some guy with glowing eyes and a murder rap a mile wide have his wicked way with her? She was just suffering from temporary prison insanity.
It happened all the time, that was the reason why guys that were perfectly straight started to do it with other guys while in the Slam, because the girls refused and so they had to bend their sanity a little to get relief. It was just her luck that Riddick happened to be the only guy in the entire double max that interested her… yep, insane, crazy, doomed to die!

When Ave moved to shove her again George shot her a dirty look before running a hand through her hair cautiously. “I’ve just been thinking. And I won’t be sociable if I don’t want to, that’s how the universe works, Ave,” she corrected stoutly, causing the younger to scowl at her. How her and Ave were still friends, or whatever the hell this abusive relationship is, was beyond George’s grasp of comprehension.

“Well, you think too much. Lord knows what goes on in that twisted little head of yours, so why not get out of that funk you’ve been in and allow yourself to actually enjoy the company of others?”

“In a prison?”

Ave paused for a few moments, staring at George. Then, she slowly realized the point of view for which the red haired woman had expressed and sighed, sinking onto the metal platform her friend was perched on, and stared out at the mass of other bodies. She twiddled her thumbs a moment before coming up with a retort, “well, it’s all the company we have. We have no choice but to try and…”

“And what? Make friends with people that would slit your throat in your sleep if this was the outside world? Do horrible things to you if they managed to get their hands on you? They sound like very good acquaintances to me,” George stated bitterly and glared at the heads that were around her. It was true, she didn’t trust anyone period, but she trusted fellow criminals even less. It was like giving someone Pandora’s Box all over again and telling them not to open it, that it was theirs forever, and not to do anything at all to it. Look what had happened the first time.

Ave looked indignant but held her tongue and crossed her legs. She cocked her head to the side and observed her partner, “so are the rumors true or not?”

The abruptness and the crassness of the question caught Georgina off guard and she looked at the other girl as if she had grown a second head with antlers and large bug eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, confusion written on her face. She had no idea that the girl was still locked onto this notion that she and Riddick were ‘friends’ or whatever the rest of the population thought them to be. When she found her tongue again the older killer said sharply, “what rumors are those again?”

“See? You don’t deny it!”

“Yes, but I don’t confirm it either!” George defended, coming to a standing and glaring down at her younger counterpart. She was lucky that George found the girl so endearing otherwise she would have just left her to fend for herself long ago, and then who knows what might have happened.

“Are you and the scary bald guy going at it like bunnies??” Ave suddenly asked in a gleeful whisper, her eyes shinning with interest and perverse curiosity.

George raised her eyebrows at this but just looked away and stared down the entrances to the lounging area they were in. She couldn’t very well confirm it, cause it wasn’t true yet but she couldn’t deny it cause there was something going on there that was more than occasional popping his head into her cell. Rubbing the back of her neck she stated as quietly as she could, “No.”

“Awwww! And here I was hoping for some gory details!” Ave whined and plopped down onto the metal stretch, putting her hands behind her head. George looked at her skeptically but finally just shrugged and jumped from the metal stretcher before putting her hands into her pockets and surveying the area. Frowning at what she saw she turned to her friend and waved, muttering a quick ‘later’ before starting off on her way towards where the trickle of water had been keeping her as clean as it could for the past five months.

She felt filthy. She couldn’t think of anything else over the last weeks besides the fact of how the oil and grim felt sickening on her skin, weighing it down, making her gag every time she touched her own arms. What she wouldn’t give for an actual shower, with running hot, scolding hot, water that would tear at the dirt that covered her body and make her clean again. Shampoo, oh lord she would kill for some shampoo. She had heard rumors amongst the other prisoners that there was, indeed, a waterfall somewhere on this level that had started to break through from the upper single max, but unfortunately they weren’t telling her were it was located.

So she was forced to come here, to this dingy little place. This was what, she supposed, had been the shower room back when the prison wasn’t quite so completely and totally uninhabitable. The shower head just above her hadn’t worked, she surmised, in over sixteen years from the rust and over all decay of the once shiny metal pipes. Instead, where the water came from, as she padded over the broken tile, was from a broken pipe just over head where it probably ran to where the guards were stationed at all times and where it was filtered and made into good drinking water. George could only guess how much crap lived in this brown mess of liquid, but then again, she was one of the lucky ones. Before she had been brought into here she had gotten immune system boosters that would make it impossible for her to get sick over the next two years… and a handy dandy little implant in her uterus to where she would not get pregnant or even have her period for a good six. Looking back on it now she wondered just how much foresight had gone into her getting those things mere weeks before her capture.

It was useless to brood on how or why she had been found, though she knew just who had given her away, the slimy bastard, and so she stripped off her sleeveless jacket and threw it to the floor. She had become disenchanted with the thing ever since Riddick had been the ass hole and had used it to make the leather grips of his shivs. Now the thing was useless and didn’t serve a purpose of any real kind. When she got out she would have to buy a new one for the first time in ten years. That coat had seen a lot with her… she mused as she shook her hair from its pony tail and stood under the cascading, narrow stream of tainted liquid, letting it run down her mass of frizzy red curls. It had seen fight after fight, been shot through just as she has been, been stitched up more times than she could count, and even been burned a few times by a stray item from her belt. The damn thing was like her oldest friend.

Damn Riddick… she thought with a low rumble in her chest. She moved her head to the side and let the water trickle down her clothing, wetting them and her skin at the same time, revealing in the small feeling of temporarily getting clean before it was replaced by whatever shit was in this water. Turning around she lifted her hair and shivered when it passed down her spine icily, making her suck in a quick breath. George never was one for a cold shower… they were a waste of time and made you start to clatter.

Sighing she held herself up by her hands gripping onto a thick cord hanging from the ceiling, closing her head and raising her head to where it washed against her face. Showering with all of your clothing on was something that she didn’t like to do but in this place you couldn’t be too careful; she didn’t want to have to part with her shank for any reason whatsoever. Rolling her head back she closed her eyes and felt the water wash down her neck and back into her tank top, down her stomach and into her cargo’s. She wondered idly how long it would be until she was able to wash her clothing and get a good, real, scrub down shower. Until then…

George growled in frustration as she turned and put her hands above her head, staring at the stall wall across from her, her lips in a firm line. There was an ache that had settled in the pit of her stomach ever since she’d first begun this little… game… with Riddick, and it wouldn’t go away. She knew what the hell it was, she was twenty five after all, but this was just fucking ridiculous. Deciding to hope against hopes, that this time it would finally make it go away, she glanced around stiffly before snaking her hand down her own stomach and into her pants. She gasped very slightly when her fingers found the junction between her legs, wincing at the surge of pleasure that wracked up her body harshly.

She thought she had taught her body to be able to suppress urges like this when she was in mission mode, but it apparently had other ideas. George let out a soft moan when her palm scraped up and down her sex, her breathing starting to come in slight pants. Her calloused index finger lashed against her clit in practiced expertise, her biting her lower lip in concentration. Running the digit around the painfully pert appendage she let out another frustrated groan before unbuttoning her pants and bringing her other hand to where its fingers grazed against her already soaking opening.

Brown eyes rolled up into her head and a small smile came to her lips when finally she inserted a finger into herself, her back arching quickly. She panted and rolled her head slightly backwards, rubbing back and forth with an insistent finger over her clit, causing the sensitive skin to heat to unbearable levels. Sliding her middle finger in and out of her slicked opening she inserted another one, determined to get this over as fast as possible incase any perverts were watching her. But instead of the rapid building of the coil of heat within her like she was used to it began to burn slowly, twisting and turning uncomfortably until she had no choice but to voice her irritation with a growl, thrusting her fingers more firmly into herself.

Pants soon became quiet, soft moans as her hips began to twitch and move against her rough hands. Her senses were clouded over and all that mattered was the tightening in her stomach to where her legs were taught and flexed hard to the point of pain. Holding her breath George pushed in another finger and almost yelped at the pulse it sent up the small of her back, her head jolting back. Her clit was now thoroughly abused as she pulled it from its sheath and began to rub it against her other hands palm hard, causing a sensation so jolting that the bottom of her feet tingled as if they were going to sleep. “Oh, fuck,” she swore and clenched her eyes hard, gritting her teeth.

She was forced to lean against a wall as he knees became steadily weaker, her fingers now working at an almost harried pace. Her chest heaved with moans and whimpers that were lifting from her chest of their own will, her nipples hard and at stand from the cold water and abrupt arousal. Hips sliding over her palm and fingers pumping in and out she let out a small cry when the coil in her tightened another degree to where it was painful and blinding. George’s red hair was plastered to her face, her clothing glued to her form, and when the something that had been building within her shattered she yelled and tossed her head back hard to where it slammed against the wall. Convulsions, starting from the inside of her thighs and from deep within her now rushing opening, wrapped their way up her body to where she was nearly thrashing. Her vision was filled with sharp, deadly looking stars, her hearing rushed over with blood pounding through them; she could hardly think straight. All that mattered was now gripping onto the wall around her, breathing hard and heavy, her legs nearly collapsing under her when the fit passed and the searing in her stomach receded for the moment.

“Shit…” George whispered and brought shaking and dirty hands to close her pants with a firm snap of the button. Pulling up the zipper was more of a chore than she could have thought in those moments and so she slid down the jagged wall, ignoring the small bursts of pain from her shoulders, and sat down on the ground with a breath of gratitude. It would take a minute or two for her thoughts to collect enough to even think of going anywhere much less risk other prisoners either seeing or smelling what activity she had just done to herself. Though… her eyes fluttered open for a moment from their exhausted closed position and glanced around slowly. She knew she was being watched at this point now. Fuck it, she growled to herself and merely basked as long as she would permit in the afterglow of her orgasm.

Riddick shifted against his shadows, staring intensely upon the scene that had just taken place before him. His breathing was shallow but not enough to be heard and his body was covered in slight goose bumps. The hardened criminal watched as she sat there, almost crumpled, head leaning on one of her shoulders while her chest heaved, up and down, causing her soaking shirt to show all the movements effortlessly. Her scent was now dark and heady around him, making his head swim, his body tighten, and his manhood now press urgently against his stomach and hard as a rock. He had not been expecting to see this when he had followed her to the water station…

She had run from him. George had been getting paranoid, glancing outside of her cell every few minutes and scanning the shadows around her nervously, thinking for sure that he was out there watching her. And though she had convinced herself that she was just being idiotic she should have trusted her instincts, for he had been stalking after her for the past three days. He was interested in seeing what her reaction to the constant scrutiny of him and she had done something that had surprised him. She had gone up with her little friend up to the fifth ring of the double max, the one place he wouldn’t be caught dead in. Too many people often spelled trouble when it came to him, so he had waited on the outskirts, watching silently while running his fledgling plan over and over in his mind. Today was going to be the day that he was going to tell her his plans for getting out of his hell hole, a plan both of them wanted.

He had been getting irritated by her continued presence among the other inmates, his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching lightly. She was just lying there, staring up into space, doing absolutely nothing. He had watched the interaction of her and Ave for a brief second before George had stood and started to glare down at the younger, informing him that she was reaching her limit of being around a mass of people. It was amazing what you could learn from someone just by following them around for a good few days, really. She was a recluse, she didn’t like the company of others, and though she stomached Ave he was fairly certain that over the last few days that the girls childish antics were wearing on the older woman’s nerves. Though she could handle being in the midst of a crowd easier than he could, apparently, she had her limit before she started shouting.

Sure enough, he had watched Georgie wave at her friend and walk off towards where he knew the water source for the double max was located. This was what he had been waiting for… so he had walked after her, through the crowds that were staring at him with shock and awe at him. There were few around that had actually seen him in his months being here so to them this was a rarity that would probably never be repeated. Their stares lasted until he reached the dark that was where his prey had vanished into, wherein he was lost and they were now murmuring to themselves, he could still hear them. There were only two reasons to go to the water source, one was that she was thirsty and the other was attempting to bathe. It was almost impossible to receive an adequate wash from the filthy water that ran from that cracked pipe but he understood the need to at least feel like you were keeping up your hygiene. Maybe one day he would show her where the waterfall was located…

When he had come across the small stall area she was already pulling her hair out of its binding and walking towards the water with a purposeful stride. Riddick knew better than to hope she would divest of her clothing but was none the less disappointed when she had stepped under the water full clothed. Hiding stoutly within the darkness and keeping his senses trained on only the red haired woman before him he couldn’t help but notice the twang to the air that came only with a certain kind of irritation. He watched her as she washed with little more than moving here and there to get the water to go down her back or her shirt and soon her clothing was sticking to her like glue. His silver eyes were fixated on her now revealed body and he had no choice but to grunt lightly though not loud enough for her to hear him over the constant pounding of water on the ground below.

She was slim but muscular to the point where they formed curves against her bones, sculpted to deadly perfection. He caught sight of those scars again, those scars that told timeless tales of her time as a killer and whatever else the hell it was that she did.

Then she started to do something he had not expected but was pleasantly surprised to see. She grumbled under her breath for a moment before one of her hands disappeared down the front of her pants and almost instantly she shivered and let out a small noise. Riddick’s body was suddenly tuned in to only the woman before him, he couldn’t even hear the other sounds of the prison, and the way that her arousal, that same musky scent that told of her need, hit him in his chest like a freight train made him want to go over there and just throw her down and have his way with her. But he held back. He didn’t get the opportunity of watching such a scene very often so he was not going to ruin it.

Riddick watched as George tossed her head back and moaned, her arm moving and the way that her pants were shifting informed him she was rubbing herself. Arching her back suddenly Riddick found himself wishing that her pants were just completely gone, that she was naked, and doing this to where he could see it. Almost on cue she let out a growl and undid her pants, but they didn’t fall, to his dissatisfaction, but instead hung on her hips as her other hand found its way in and her head rolled to the side. He was having a hard time holding himself back now. His own body was heating to the point of pain and he had to resist very hard not rushing her and throwing off her clothing. It was so damn erotic to watch this woman touching herself that his dick was growing harder by the second.

She was soaking wet now, both her body and between her legs, he could smell it thick in the air. He had watched as her hips began to jump and grind against her hand, her breathing becoming labored, and her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her mouth opened and all that was escaping now was a constant stream of moans and soft cries that were driving him mad with blinding lust. But again, he kept in control of the animal still roaring in his ears. It would shoot his chances at getting her to come to him, not the other way around, and would set the tone of their work and fucking relationship. He was going to be the one in control here…

George had, during his thought train, shifted to where she was leaned against a wall. She was getting close, he could tell just in her body structure and how it was tensing. Her moans were growing steadily louder and her hips were now effectively grinding and thrusting back onto her fingers. With a jolt and a gasp she tossed her head back and hit it hard on the wall behind her, her hips stilling for a moment before they began to shudder and twitch violently. It had traveled up her body and clutched her in its grasp as her orgasm caused all new scents and sights to enter into Riddick and soon her found his hand traveling of it’s own accord over his engorged manhood. His plans might need to be moved forwards slightly… he thought with a quirk of a smirk.

Then she had slid down the wall and was as she was now, panting and closing her eyes, a smile plastered on her lips. The smell of sex was the only thing that was in the room, it overpowered even the prisons natural stench and made Riddick close his eyes and relax in it for a moment. Telling her about his idea of getting out of here could wait, he concluded.

Then, with a snap, her brown eyes had come open and turned to where he was at. He knew that she couldn’t see him, she was a human after all and it would take a shine job to make them able to pierce the inky black around him, but the way that her orbs were locked onto his despite that with such ferocity and determination made him wonder if she couldn’t. There was a challenge in that stare that he couldn’t avoid, a silent urging that made his cock throb and twitch slightly with anticipation. Without a second glance she had stood, zipped up her pants, and walked off with a slightly more propionate swagger of her female hips than before she had come into the stall.

With a growl Riddick opened up his own pants, pulling out his manhood that was ripping at him for attention and thrust his hand down the shaft, repressing a groan. His silver eyes were still on the area where George had disappeared though his mind had locked onto the image of her arching her back against the wall, moaning, and her hips shifting helplessly and instinctually against her skilled hands. Licking his lips momentarily he pulled his shaft up harshly and rumbled with pleasure in his chest, picturing all the things he was going to do to the red haired woman that had dared to challenge him, the Richard B. Riddick. Oh was she in for a shock…

George had sensed him watching almost from the moment her second hand had gown down her pants, but by then it had been too late. So, with a cocky after thought, she had decided that this would be to show just how far into the sport that they were playing she was in for. If he wanted to tease her, taunt her, mock her, than she would do the same. She considered that little show back there the first step to whatever dangerous thing they were going about, and when she jumped from the fifth to the fourth, catching the hanging cords and swinging down with a soft thud she smiled to herself. Two could play it that way, Riddick… let the games begin, my friend.