Fallen Daughters: A Dark Romance

by Alta Hensley

  Yes, I was still earning my credits.

  I was still a prisoner.

  But there was something different in the way Knox watched me. In the way he touched me. And even in the way he punished me.

  There were still constant reminders of my reality, however. Oz had requested other enema sessions, which Gage always recorded for him. Oz also demanded often to have a close-up recording of many spankings where I had to hold my butt cheeks spread wide so he could see my anus as it too would be spanked and prodded for his viewing. Knox was always far harsher with me when the camera was rolling, and I knew that it was expected for me to have the tears flow. Even if I didn’t particularly feel like crying, I knew it would please Knox. I think he knew it was what Oz wanted to see—my pain, my suffering, my miserable penance. And whenever I performed for Oz as I knew Knox wanted, he would reward me with a caress, or a touch that made my heart soar. But Knox wanted Oz to see me as a captive hating every single minute of her stay in the manor, and I played the part perfectly.

  If Oz only knew.

  If he only knew just how much my body craved the penance. Knox wasn’t the monster. I was the fucking monster. I wanted and actually liked every single lick of pain. I ached for the next fix. I absolutely writhed in agony when I was without Knox and his touch. I was an addict, and Knox was the only one who could deliver the drug I craved.

  “You only have a five more credits to earn,” he said after my evening belting. “Five more until you are free to go.”

  It was as if ice cold water had been thrown on my quivering body. My heart froze as my knees buckled, and I fell to the floor. I looked up into Knox’s stunned face with wide eyes and shook my head in denial.

  With furrowed brow, he kneeled down and took my hand in his. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” The look of concern on his face was foreign, and I took a moment to absorb a new element of the man I longed to know more about.

  “I’m not sick.” Although I couldn’t breathe normally, and my body grew clammy.

  Knox wiped a loose strand of hair from my face and placed his palm on my forehead. “What’s going on, Esme? Do you need a doctor or something?” He pulled my shivering body against his and cradled me.

  “What happens then?” I asked in a whisper. “When I earn the final five credits?”

  “I told you. You will be free. Oz is a man of his word.”

  “What about the police? They will still want me to testify.”

  Knox surprised me when he kissed the top of my head and still held me securely in his arms. “Is that what has you like this?” He kissed my head again. “Oz will take care of everything. It will mean you having to leave your life you once knew and being placed in hiding, but it’s either that or prison. I’m assuming you would never betray Oz again because no Monster of Mercy would be assigned to you for second offenses.”

  “Hiding? Alone?” I asked, feeling a deep wave of grief attacking every part of my being.

  “It’s not ideal, but at least you will get to leave here with your life. Oz will make sure your housing and financial needs are met. More details will come once you officially earn the final credits. I told Oz to expect your release tomorrow.”

  “But what if I don’t want that?” I said as I tilted my head so I could look up at him.

  “To go into hiding?” His eyes darkened. “Would you rather go to jail? You don’t exactly have a lot of options here, Esme. I hope you aren’t stupid enough to think you can fuck with Oz and—”

  “What if I don’t want to leave here?” I swallowed hard. “To leave you.”

  Knox recoiled back as if I had just slapped his face. “What are you talking about? Of course you want to leave here.”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”

  Knox shot to his feet, and his look of concern was quickly replaced by one of fury. “Have you lost your mind? You are about to be free. No more penance. No more punishments.”

  “But also”—I sniffed as the tears finally fell from my eyes—“no more you. And I don’t want that.”

  “You don’t know what you are talking about,” he snapped. He shook his head. “Of course you want to leave here. What person in their right mind would want to stay?”

  “Me. I want to stay. To stay here with you.”

  “Esme.”

  “Is that so wrong?” I moved myself into the kneeling position I knew Knox liked me to assume. “I don’t want to leave you. You said I was a shattered sparrow. You saw that in me the minute you laid your eyes on me, and you were right. I was shattered. Completely broken. But with you, I feel like all the parts are put back together. I feel safe with you and comforted in your hands, no matter how firm they are. You called me a pain slut, and maybe you are correct in that as well. I do like it. I love it.”

  “Fine. Then explore your new submissive tendencies outside this manor. You don’t have to be here to explore that sexual side of yourself.” He said the words between clenched teeth. “I can’t understand why you would want to stay here.”

  “Why do you?” I asked. “You said you were earning credits yourself. How many do you need? Maybe I can stay and help earn the credits for you so we can leave together.” Hope replaced the sadness in my heart. My idea seemed like a good one and one that maybe Knox would consider.

  “My credits were earned a long time ago.” Knox walked over to the window and looked out, leaving me staring at his broad shoulders and strong posture that only made me crave to be in his arms once again. “I’m here by choice. It’s what I do. Who I am.”

  “A sadist?” I was being far more daring and bold than I would have ever done before, but I couldn’t earn my five credits and never see this man again. I had to fight. I had to do something. I could see Knox slipping between my fingers if I didn’t do everything I could to stay.

  “A monster,” he answered.

  “You wanted to stay. So why is it so hard to believe that I want to stay as well? Oz wants me to stay in hiding. Why can’t I stay hidden here with you? With you to watch over me.”

  “You don’t know me,” he said, still staring out the window.

  “But I want to,” I countered. “There is so much I don’t know about you, but I do know that there is some sort of connection between us. There is something deep inside of us that deserves exploring. Yes, you awoke sexual desires I never knew before, but I know there is more than that. Tell me that I am wrong. Am I nothing more than just a woman who is paying her penance to you? Have I misread you completely?”

  “I don’t know you,” he said as he turned to face me. “Not beyond these walls.”

  “You know more about me than anyone ever has before. The real me. You have stripped me naked from the inside out. You said I was yours. I am! I truly am.”

  “Esme, you have five more credits left.”

  “No!” I screamed. “I won’t earn them. I won’t. I will fight you every step of the way. You can do whatever you want, but I won’t earn them.” I stood up and charged toward him. I was completely out of control, but the thought of being forced to leave was far worse than the thought of staying and whatever discipline he would issue for my outburst.

  Knox met my charge and took hold of my shoulders to stop me. He then grabbed my neck and squeezed. “Do you have a death wish?” he asked.

  “What do I really have waiting for me if I earn my credits and have to leave you? I am still under Oz’s thumb. Yes, alive. But that’s it. You stayed. Why? Why can you stay but I can’t?”

  He squeezed my neck some more. He applied just enough pressure with his fingertips to make breathing difficult and to show me he was the one in control and not me. “Because this is who I am. I am a monster. It fit me, and the minute I realized that fact, I chose to stay and work for Oz in this capacity rather than being a hitman like I was before. I was done killing.”

  “And this fits me,” I said with strangled breath. “You said yourself. You may be a natural monster, but I now see that I am a natural prey.” His
hold on my neck loosened. “I was just a bookkeeper. No connection with my family. No real friends. A near hermit. Working for Oz and knowing I was breaking the law was the only excitement or spark I had in my life. Until you. Until you set me aflame with the things you did to my body. I felt alive while here. I don’t want to go back to death. And that was exactly what my life was before you. Death. So please, Knox. Keep me alive. Don’t allow me to die.”

  His hand on my neck moved, and he once again grabbed a fistful of my hair. I hissed as the sting intensified, but as I was about to beg for more, Knox brought his lips down upon mine. Passion erupted as he pressed his tongue inside my mouth and danced it within. A kiss from my captor. His breath merged with mine as our bodies pressed together and our kiss intensified.

  “You don’t want this,” he said between his claiming of my mouth.

  “I do.” I held onto his shoulders hoping to never let go. I hoped desperately Knox would not force me to let go of the only thing—the only person—I wanted.

  Breaking the kiss but still holding me close, he said, “You have five credits to still earn.”

  Fresh tears built and clouded my vision as I stared into his stern expression. Feeling defeated, I shook my head as I looked at my bare feet and whispered, “No. Please.”

  Knox tilted my chin to make me look up at him and kissed me again softly but then nipped at my lip. “But these last five credits are going to take a long, long, long time to earn. Possibly an eternity.”

  I looked up into his eyes feeling hope again but weary it would be crushed any moment. “Does this mean I can stay?”

  “You have penance to pay,” he said as he brought his lips to mine again. He then swooped me into his arms like the first time we connected and carried me to the bed. “And I have decided—as your Monster of Mercy—that your penance for your crimes is me. I will inform Oz tomorrow that you have been a bad, bad girl and your penance is far from over. You have a lot of learning and paying to still do.”

  I looped my arms around his neck, nuzzled my head into his shoulder, and sighed as a wave of euphoria washed over me.

  Feeling as if I was almost dreaming and Knox hadn’t actually said the words I so desperately had wanted to hear, I pulled back and looked into his eyes as we neared the bed. “And I will pay my penance like a good little girl, Daddy.”

  “Yes, you will, shattered sparrow. Yes, you will.”

  Fallen Daughter #2

  8

  Eden

  Once upon a time, there were blue skies, and bright sunrays. But today, and any other day from this point on, the ash fell from the sky, casting a thick layer of darkness and despair. I leaned against the open doorway, reached out with my palm, and allowed the grey particles to fall into my hand.

  “I have to. There is no other choice,” I said in a low voice. I looked over my shoulder at the three women I had grown to love who sat by a low burning fire, and swallowed the large lump in the back of my throat. “I don’t want to leave you. But if I don’t leave now, they will come and take me anyway, punishing all who try to stop them.”

  The frailest of the women nodded in understanding. Dear Jane could barely stand nowadays, but still had a strong spirit I admired greatly. “They will come for you regardless, true.” The other women, Anna and Ruth, nodded silently in agreement. You could see that it pained them to do so, but these women had always been honest and direct with me since the day they found me and offered shelter in their home.

  Word had spread that the Pike Army was moving in, and it was a matter of a day, maybe even hours, before they would storm our small desolate town, looting and killing all to get what they wanted.

  Women.

  They wanted women.

  They were on the hunt for all the young, beautiful females under the age of twenty-five, by order of the most powerful man left standing on this charred and destroyed earth—Pike. Decades of war, bombs, violent attacks, and a ruthless way of living had left very little of what once was a modern, high-tech society. The thick layer of grey destruction dripped from the atmosphere, casting what was left of civilization into a deep and dark slumber from the life we once lived. The world had changed drastically. People merely survived. Their souls cast in an eternal sleep.

  Nothing but simple existence.

  Nothing but emotionless breaths purely to meet the basic needs of life.

  Nothing but a walking nightmare underneath the doom of suffocating air.

  The weak became weaker. The poor even poorer. Very few people of power existed, but the few who remained were the most evil of them all.

  Chills ran up my spine at the mere thought of Pike. The tales of a pure monster were enough to have the man feared by all. He and his army had risen from the ashes and had become even stronger with the embers of the world sizzling around him. I knew his army marched my way, and when they reached my small city consisting of less than ten structures, they would slowly and mercilessly kill all who stood in their way.

  I had no choice.

  I couldn’t run. Where would I run to?

  I couldn’t hide. They would find me.

  I couldn’t fight. They would win.

  And since I was the only woman under the age of twenty-five who resided in in what remained of this town, I needed to surrender without a fight, for the sake of everyone else. It wouldn’t be fair to the older women, who watched me with tears in their eyes, to attempt to harbor what Pike would eventually obtain anyway. They would die trying—I knew this—but I couldn’t allow that to happen. I would sacrifice. I had no choice.

  “When I think about the things they will do to you,” Ruth said as she dabbed the tears in her eyes with a handkerchief that had long lost its stark white color only to be replaced with a dull grey. Grey like the world. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing, knowing… well, just knowing.”

  “Ruth! Hush,” Jane scolded. “She doesn’t need to be thinking of those awful things right now. We need to help her stay strong. They’re coming, and there isn’t anything we can do about it.”

  My shoulders sagged in defeat as I watched the older lady scowl. They knew. I knew. Every single woman who wasn’t diseased or maimed—which was rare—would eventually belong to Pike. His appetite for sexual pleasures that crossed into a realm of dark erotic horrors were tales that kept any innocent awake with nightmares. Devious kinks, perverse taboos going beyond the most devilish of imaginations. Pike was a sadist, and although I really did not know what that truly meant, I did know that it was something to fear.

  “It’s time, child,” Anna said, motioning for me to come sit on the small wooden stool that rested at her feet.

  I knew what the woman wanted, and what all the women would want to do as well. It was custom. A tradition. A way to say goodbye but forever mark the person leaving. The people saying goodbye would all leave a lasting farewell. A slice of the skin—a scar forever to remind.

  Walking over to the stool, I unbuttoned the top buttons of my tunic while taking the slow but deliberate steps toward the final parting from the only women I knew and cared about. Silently sitting down, with my back facing Anna, I lowered the fabric of my shirt, exposing my shoulder blade fully. From the corner of my eye, I could see Ruth reaching for the only knife in the house. The one we used to carve the dried meat of old wild game carcasses we stumbled on while foraging, or to divide a discovered root into four equal parts for the daily meal. It wasn’t the sharpest, but it would do for what its purpose would be today.

  Anna held her hand out, and Ruth placed it on her open palm. “As I say goodbye to you forever, I give you the gift of courage.” She sliced the knife in a straight line down the flesh of my shoulder, ignoring the hiss of pain that escaped between my clenched teeth. “May you always have it.”

  Jane pushed her chair over with her feet, grunting as the extra exertion took whatever reserves of energy she had left. She reached for the blade and sliced another line down my shoulder. “As I say goodbye to you forever, I giv
e you the gift of endurance. May you always have it.”

  The searing sting from the cuts brought tears to my eyes, but I refused to allow them to fall. The cuts were gifts of love, and I needed to fight the superficial pain and concentrate on the deeper emotion and energy connecting me to the women as they offered the only thing they had of any worth, though not of monetary value. As tradition dictated, the loved ones would offer a trait of theirs that they valued greatly but would be willing to sacrifice to another. This farewell ceremony consisted only of three bloody slices to my flesh, a far cry from what others had endured. As a child, I could remember when villagers would say goodbye to the soldiers, both men and women, leaving for battle, and each remaining person—not able to fight—would mark the back of the departing with the same bloody knife, offering their farewell gift. The sign of a true warrior who had left behind all that they once loved would be a shoulder or back scarred with marks from people who were forced to say goodbye forever.

  In this world, everything was forever. The belief of hope had long expired, and no one believed or lived by looking toward the future for a possible good outcome. Hope dissipated right along with the sunrays—nothing but grey, dread, and despair in its place.

  Ruth helped Anna out of her seat and to another so that she could sit behind me with the blade. She placed the tip of the metal to my flesh and pressed firmly, barely breaking the skin. “As I say goodbye to you forever,” she slowly lowered the knife down the length of my shoulder, “I give you the gift of submission.” As Ruth reached the end of the cut, I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the blood from my wounds drip down the side of my back, running along the grooves of my ribcage. “May you always have it… and understand it fully.”