Morning came
Slurping sounds could be heard in a room Rick below him Maggie is vigourously choking on his cock buried in between in her lips as she was bobbing her face up and down on it.
" Gwak-Gwag," "slurp-slurp."
Lwed sound echoed in the room.
Rick grinned in pleasure and place his hand on the back of her head and stuffed his whole cock in throat, and locked her in place making her unable to breathe.
Her mouth was wet and warm.
His cock twitch in her mouth, her throat constricted around his large member and he couldn't take it anymore , he pulled his cock form her throat, and when the tip reached her tongue he filled her mouth with his thick white cum.
He then pulled his cock out of her mouth with a pop and smiled. "You know what to do right?"
Maggie knew what he wanted and gulped down his entire load without spilling a drop.
Looking at Maggie's beautiful face, I still couldn't quite believe that I was now her husband.
"If only she weren't pregnant right now," I thought with a faint smile.
"I'm gonna head out now. We've got an operation to run," I said as I grabbed my gear.
Maggie stood up slowly, placing a hand on her stomach before stepping closer. "Stay safe, okay?"
"You too," I replied, placing a hand gently on hers before leaning in for a soft kiss. "I love you."
She smiled warmly, "I love you too."
We held each other for a moment—just a brief pause in the storm—then I turned and stepped out into the morning light, ready to face whatever the day would bring.
I headed to the meeting room where Shane, Guillermo, Morgan, Leah, and Sara were already waiting for me. Daryl was there too—he and the others had just returned from their recent scouting trip.
I stepped forward, looking at each of them. "As you may know, there's a community out there—around 1,500 strong, or at least that's what it used to be. According to one of the recent escapees, they were hit hard by a herd not long ago. Their numbers have likely dropped since."
Guillermo leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. "Is it accurate though? What if it's a lie? A trap?"
I nodded. "That's why I sent Daryl to scout them out yesterday. So, Daryl?"
Daryl stood up, arms crossed. "It's real. I followed the tracks. Their camp is set up near the border. Heavily armed. I saw bodies—fresh ones. Looked like they lost quite a few. Might still be recovering."
Shane leaned forward, the usual fire in his eyes. "So, what if we grab one of them? Interrogate. Find out exactly how many are left. Could give us the upper hand."
Morgan shook his head firmly. "No. That's a line we don't cross. Torturing people? That's not who we are."
"I agree with Morgan," Sara added. "We're not monsters."
"What about you, Leah?" I asked.
She looked between the two sides, then at me. "I think Shane has a point. We need to know more, and we don't have time for games. If we're gonna protect our people, we have to act."
Guillermo nodded. "I support Shane too."
Rick looked conflicted. "This isn't right," I said, looking at Morgan. "I know how you feel, and I respect it… but the longer we wait, the more people that group will capture. They enslave survivors, Morgan. We've seen what they do."
Morgan didn't say anything, but the disappointment on his face was clear. Sara avoided looking at anyone, clearly uncomfortable.
"Alright," I said, ending the debate. "Daryl, lead the team. Leah, go with him. Three people should be enough."
Leah nodded. "I'll bring Wells with me."
"Good. Meeting dismissed."
As everyone began to leave, I caught a glimpse of Morgan's disapproving expression and Sara's unsettled face. I knew this wasn't going to sit well with them.
But war was coming—and if we were going to win, we needed every advantage we could get.
Daryl, along with Leah and Wells, rode toward the border. Daryl led the way on his motorcycle, his eyes sharp and focused beneath the shadow of his helmet. Behind him, a car followed — Wells at the wheel, and Leah, both alert and armed.
After about thirty minutes of navigating the old, cracked roads, they finally reached a vantage point overlooking the stadium. The place was massive, surrounded by makeshift barricades and watchtowers. Daryl stopped his bike and signaled the others to halt.
They parked the vehicle a safe distance away, hidden under tree cover. The group crouched low and moved quietly up a nearby ridge.
"There," Daryl pointed, his voice low. "See those people? Forced labor. Some of 'em look half-starved."
From their position, they could see groups of people working under armed supervision. It was clear who the guards were — better fed, better clothed, rifles in hand.
Leah nodded grimly. "We grab one of the guards. One on the edge. That one's taking a piss near the treeline."
"Wells, stay here and cover us," Daryl said. "Don't shoot unless it goes south."
"Got it," Wells replied, already adjusting the scope on his rifle.
Daryl and Leah moved in with the silence and precision of predators. The guard they targeted was separated from the others, oblivious as he relieved himself behind a bush.
Leah crept behind the man and, with a swift blow to the head, knocked him out cold. Daryl rushed in immediately, lifting the unconscious body over his shoulder.
"Move!" Daryl hissed.
Wells emerged from his spot and opened the trunk. "Throw him in. Let's go."
They loaded the body into the car and quickly drove back, confident that the patrols wouldn't notice one missing guard — at least not for a while.
Back at the compound, Daryl and Leah hauled the prisoner into one of the cells, past Gregory and Spencer who looked on with a mix of curiosity and discomfort. The captive groaned faintly, his face bruised and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Put him in the last cell," Daryl muttered.
Once secured, Washington entered. His face was calm but his eyes were like steel. He was the designated interrogator — a man with a dark past in special ops, and the stomach to do what others couldn't.
"Step back," Washington said coolly, rolling up his sleeves.
Leah and Daryl exchanged a glance but complied. Washington closed the cell door behind him. There was silence for a few minutes... until it was broken by a scream.
An hour later, Washington exited the cell, wiping his hands with a bloodstained cloth.
"He talked," he said flatly.
Everyone leaned in as he continued, his voice emotionless.
"The stadium had 1,500 people. After the herd hit them a few weeks ago, they lost around 120 workers. Just civilians forced into labor. Twenty of their guards died during the attack. The rest survived by using the workers as meat shields."
Murmurs filled the room.
"He said it like it was normal," Washington added. "Like they were just tools to be used."
Rick arrived just in time to catch the last part. He looked at Washington, then glanced through the bars at the now unconscious prisoner.
"They're monsters," Leah whispered, disgusted.
"Yeah," Rick said coldly. "But now we know what we're dealing with."
He turned to Daryl. "Prep the others. We move to the next phase tomorrow."
Daryl nodded, and the room emptied — except for Morgan and Sara, who stood near the back, clearly unsettled.
Rick caught Morgan's eyes, then looked away. He knew this wasn't the kind of leader Morgan wanted him to be… but it was the kind this world needed.