Sex Dreams

The Governor slid his right hand down under his waistband, quickly sucking in a short gulp of air at the pressure against his member. His erection was straining against the hemline of his briefs, almost calling to him to be pulled out and attended to.

But he had business to do.

And the last thing he needed to do was pay attention to the fantasy running on in the back of his mind.

He slid his hand back out from underneath his pants and pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to release some of the stress and tension building throughout his body. This, of course, did not work, and only made his temples throb even harder. What was he going to do? Grab one of his concubines from the street? Call Andrea in for a quickie?

Neither of those options would do, for the sick fantasy in his mind involved one specific person; a woman with skin the color of unsweetened coffee and locs that reached just above her breasts. This woman doubled as a warrior; one who was skilled beyond belief with a sword that never shied away from a challenge.

"Michonne.." he called under his breath with his eyes closed.

He pictured her walking around the streets of Woodbury, a scowl on her face and head held high. It angered him that she would not give in like everyone else. She was not afraid of him, nor enchanted, and she looked at him with such..contempt that it made his blood boil..

It made his dick hard.

No matter how hard he tried to fight it - to ignore her - he was drawn to her. He had a dire need to consume her entire being - to use her until she was useless, and so his mission was simple. Rick, Andrea, and the other vagabonds with their little brats were just pawns in a tactical game, and he knew Michonne was well aware of this.

But what she was not aware of, he was certain, was the sexual attraction accompanying the hate. Part of the Governor wanted to crush her bones with his bare hands, the other wanted to run his fingers against her smooth black skin while she rode him until the bed broke.

He slammed his fist against his desk as the visual popped into his mind and sent another jolt through his member. He closed his eyes again, slowly breathing in and out while trying to change the scene to one of Michonne in pain.

It didn't work as effectively as he had hoped; he was hurting her...but she liked it. And so did he.

The scene changed again, this time to one of Michonne running her hands against his shoulders while his hands and legs were tightly chained to a wall. His face turned red with anger and anticipation - she was teasing him, making him wait...for what exactly?

The Governor opened his eyes and looked down at the crotch of his pants; the tip of his member rose high enough to make a tent out of the black denim. Seeing himself in such a state caused the anticipation from his fantasy to seep into him like a heavy waterfall. He was going to have Michonne, one way or another; he was going to break her and rebuild himself simultaneously. His pride and the very well-being of Woodbury depended on it.

Or maybe not.

There was a knock at the door, breaking the Governor's reverie.

"What is it?" he drawled.

Merle stepped in with his metal arm tucked behind his back. "We found Warrior Princess. She's back with Rick and them."

"Good," the Governor nodded, scooting as close to the desk as possible, trying to hide his lower half from view. "Keep watch on the prison, three at a time in shifts. If she so much as steps foot outside of those gates, I want her brought here immediately - alive!"

"Got it." Merle dipped his head. "Bring her through the back, right?"

"Yeah. We wouldn't want Andrea finding out, would we?"