The Princess And The Criminal

3

SAWYER

I growled and dropped my wrench, hissing at the sting in my hand. I rubbed my hand against my shirt and kicked the wrench for good measure.

Caesar chuckled quietly at my pain.

"Fuck off Caesar." I grumbled while taking off my gear.

Hunter had taken good care of my motorcycle. But I was adding a few adjustments. Well that was until the thing tried to kill me.

"Forgotten how to avoid burns?" Walker laughed from across the shop, cleaning his tools.

I kicked the wrench to him and peeled off my overall.

"I'm gonna be late to see my parole officer, clean the wrench for me."

He frowned but picked the greasy tool. "First and last time."

That was what he always said.

I took my time in the shower, I had already met my parole officer once. A chubby man in his forties, that barely cared about his job. I was grateful. I could vividly remember Caesar's parole officer. A strict woman who loved to show up at our house unannounced.

Our family was fortunate enough to own the auto repair shop. We always had work after serving time.

I had called dibs on Betsy that morning, so I took the orange truck and went to see my parole officer.

He was dismissive about the whole affair. Said Dan had put in a good word for me and that I was free to do whatever as long as I didn't miss my monthly check in. Two years on parole. It was gonna fly by, he had said.

Caesar had to show up every week for two and a half years. I was definitely lucky.

When I parked in front of Mc Donald's I was more than excited to catch up with Mama Imelda.

In prison I hadn't been able to get clearance to cook and I was dying to try again. I had helped perfect their famous burger recipe, I couldn't wait to make one.

Mama Imelda chatted off my ear, I smiled while I cooked. Chopping vegetables for a soup special. Grilling the burgers, even serving tables at some point.

"Your hair, so pretty. You were almost always bald dear child."

I laughed and shook my head. I wasn't bald. I was constantly in a pixie cut. Growing up with only brothers, and a neglectful mother had not been easy. I had always kinda knew I was into women, that wasn't something I had to figure out.

I was technically out and proud longer than even I could remember. Having bisexual parents definitely helped. I could remember all the little preppy rich girls asking me to kiss them. 'Experimental' they said.

Even when I fucked them, some with full penetration, they'd say some shit like; 'since we're both girls so it doesn't count.'

My brothers had been taught to be respectful to women, no matter what they did. I however was let off the hook for punching some girls. When I hit puberty I felt icky.

My breasts were growing too big and I thought I may want to be a boy. But I'd see my brothers whip out their dicks to pee, or watch porn with men in it and the disgust was almost tangible.

Eventually I spoke to my mother. The advice she gave me was one of the few good or motherly things she had ever done.

"If you want I could take you to go see a shrink... but if penises on men are disgusting... maybe it's just the boobs?"

I thought, hey, maybe it is just the boobs. But then I had sex for the first time a week later, I was twelve, eager. She was fourteen.

I loved my boobs.