by Jess Bentley
Save Me, Sinners
A Dark MFM Romance
Jess Bentley
Copyright © 2017 by Jess Bentley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters depicted in book are completely fictional, age of majority and all acts are consensual.
Contents
Preface
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
SAVE ME, DADDY
Introduction
25. Preface
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Epilogue
HEAT
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Epilogue
A HARD MAN: SAVING DAVID — Never before published!
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Epilogue
Preface
In this volume you will find my book Save Me, Sinners, as well as some bonus content: my recent Save Me, Daddy, Heat and the never before published, A Hard Man: Saving David.
Prologue
Angel
“My Ceremony is today,” says Gina, preening and pawing at her hair, before putting a strand in her mouth and chewing on it. I’m only half listening. It’s good that Tulip is here, as it’ll take Gina’s attention off of me in case she gets bored and starts getting nasty. I scuff the ground with my shoe, watching as little rivulets form in the dusty earth.
I wish it were my Ceremony today and not Gina’s.
“Are you excited?” Tulip asks. “You’re so lucky.” She draws out the phrase until it seems her breath is going to run right out. “Isn’t she lucky, Angel?”
“Um, yeah,” I answer absently. “Lucky for sure.” Today’s the day that Gina will be made a woman by Father Daddy and Brother Owen. What could be luckier than that?
I wonder if she and Tulip notice how massive Father Daddy looks when he’s stomping across the altar. How his jaw sets when he looks at each one of us in the congregation in turn. How his tattoos make him look even more like artwork. Or how Brother Owen’s powerful forearms ripple as he waves the cross at us.
The cross is supposed to represent the thrust to heaven and the horizontal earth. Man is caught in between the two, the center of the two lines. I guess Gina will get her cross necklace today.
“Did you find out exactly what’s going to happen at the Ceremony?” asks Tulip. “I’ve heard a few things, but I don’t know what to believe.” Her eyes are wide and curious. “It sounds like it gets pretty wild.”
I’ve heard a thing or two as well, but nothing that makes me believe I have half a clue what’s going to happen at the Ceremony. All I know is that they decide when I should become a woman and they make me ready for my Master.
“I don’t think it’s that big a deal,” Gina answers, casually examining her nails now. “It’s Father Daddy and Brother Owen. What can they do that’s so wild?”
Tulip looks doubtful. She’s always been nicer than Gina, who if you don’t mind my saying is a bit of a witch. Why she gets to be a woman today and not me, I have no idea. Besides, everything Father Daddy and Brother O do is interesting.
“You’ll have to tell us everything!” Tulip says, looking at me for confirmation. “Right, Angel?”
“Oh, no, you can’t!” I say.
“Angel’s right,” Gina shrugs. “It’s secret. You’ll find out when you find out.”
Tulip is full of energy, and she jumps around us, giggling. “I wish you would tell us! Please, please!”
“If you don’t settle down, you’re going to get us all in trouble,” I warn her. Mary’s already giving us the evil eye from across the church lawn.
“Well, alls I know is that I’m going to be a woman, by tonight,” says Gina. “And soon I’ll get my Master. I wonder who it’s going to be?”
“Could be anyone,” I say, shooting another look at Tulip, who looks down contritely and straightens the top of her dress after jumping around. She’s finally starting to bloom up top and get her breasts. “Seth, Aaron, Billy…”
“They’re all just boys. I think I’d want Father Daddy himself to be my Master,” says Gina impishly. “He’s so good looking. Him or Brother O.”
“You can’t have Father Daddy!” Tulip hisses. “He’s too good for any of us. Brother Owen, either. They’re too powerful. They’re like gods!”
I know what Gina means. Father Daddy and Brother O are the handsomest men in the Family, Kingdom Come. And so righteous. But you can’t have either. Nobody can have them.
They’re everyone’s, and nobody’s.
Chapter 1
Silas
Owen slips through the side door, smirking at me in greeting. His grey eyes flicker around the interior of the pole barn, but we are still alone. He looks excited, tense like a wire strung between two poles. I can hear him chewing the inside of his cheek and cracking his knuckles as he settles into his
throne.
I've got a little too much on my mind for this, but I need to be present, to focus. I know I need to shut everything else away and try to just exist in the moment. Gina’s deflowering ceremony is not going to be the easiest one. She hasn't been an easy child, and now that she's becoming a woman, she has a lot to learn. I almost feel sorry for whoever is made her Master. He’ll still have a lot of work to do even after Brother Owen and I are done with her.
The barn is clean, as clean as a barn can get. The concrete floor has been thoroughly swept and is only lightly coated in dust, with a subtle, lined texture that the broom bristles made. It will do just fine, the way it has for every other ceremony for the last ten years. The humbleness of the cold concrete is what we like to call spiritually useful.
Obedience is hard, the same way the floor is hard.
Obedience is strength, the same way wood is strength.
The strings of lightbulbs that sway back and forth across the rafters illuminate the room in a kind of magical glow. It looks like it could be a harvest dance in here. Maybe a birthday party or some other kind of feast. A baptism. A wedding.
We have weddings in here too, though they are usually done in groups. Unlike the mainstream heathens, we don't elevate the individual over the group. When we marry, we marry together to show that every person is part of the Kingdom Come Family. It's not just two people going off to be on their own; it's two people joining the larger group.
Even those foolish young ones who think they're going to strike out, change things, shake things up… they learn. They see the benefit to unity among our people. They begin to understand the value of loyalty over self-interest.
Everyone submits to the Family, eventually.
No matter how hard they fight.
Everyone breaks.
I hear something outside the barn wall. Movement. Through the wide, weathered slats I see lights flickering back and forth. It's the procession. Gina is supposed to be transported here in a kind of formal parade, guided by her clan of older sisters and other Family women, the aunties, as we call them. They whisper to her, some singing and some almost chanting, encouraging her to enter the barn.
Owen leans forward in his throne, waiting to see motion on the large, rolling door. I can hear his breath coming faster now. He’s so taken with these ceremonies, I almost find it embarrassing. No one can doubt his piety, but sometimes I find his enthusiasm bordering on something else. Something deeper. Something primal. I wonder about his true motives.
But I can’t think about that now either. I need to focus. What name will I give her? She’s so thoroughly “Gina” in my memory, it’s a struggle to see her future with a new name. But I have to rename her, to offer her a clean slate for her future as a Family woman. It’s important for her sense of clarity that she receives her womanly path without being encumbered by her former self.
We are all about perfection here.
The door shudders briefly, then stops, as though it’s almost too heavy to move. I see Brother Owen scrub his palm over his face in frustration. He doesn’t have to worry. It will happen. Always does.
It's important that she opens the door herself. Presumably the aunties have given her at least some idea of what the deflowering ceremony is all about, but they never tell them the whole thing. There's always some element of surprise, maybe some fear.
I leave that up to them. The aunties know best how to shape these new women. They know how they need to be molded, to be taken apart and reborn in the holy duties of service. The aunties know each girl’s individual struggles, and how to coach them onto the divine path. They are like lengths of new tree boughs in the aunties’ able hands. A little twisting, a small bend or break here and there — nothing permanent — and the boughs can take on the most wonderful shapes.
They become pliant.
Some of them are too bold. Some of them are too shy. Some of them harbor a sinful, self-interested lust that needs to be redirected for their Masters. I don't know how they do it, but they take the mission very seriously. They are always coming up with just the right kind of reeducation.
In a way, Owen and I are merely their tools.
The door shudders again, and I hear the large casters begin to roll on the gritty track. Owen leans forward on his throne, gripping the armrest tightly.
As the large panel begins to move, I see the other members gathered outside, their eyes wide with expectation and excitement. They peer into the barn, though I'm not really sure why. There's nothing to see here. Just a large space that every adult woman has entered at least once. Once for baptism, again for deflowering, perhaps again to join with her Master.
And yet, they're still eager to reconnect. Their eyes shine, reflecting the strings of lights on the ceiling. I recognize them all. And yet I don't see them, not really. After the ceremonies, that brief connection is dissolved. They move onto other paths. My calling is to ensure the life of our Family. Our spiritual life, our everlasting redemption.
As is my duty, I look for Gina. She struggles with the door, leaning her weight against it and shoving with one shoulder against the heavy weight. When it's all the way open, she stands up straight and juts her chin defiantly in my direction as if to answer some challenge. As if opening the door further than necessary is aggressive or dominating.
Defiant to the last moment, I suppose. Right down to the very last seconds that this behavior will be permitted. No matter. She’ll alter like everyone else does.
Everyone submits.
She's wearing a long, white cotton gown that comes to her ankles. As she steps forward, the panels flutter slightly around her, exposing the edges of her thighs all the way up to her waist. The traditional garment is split up each side, only appearing to be sewn all the way together when she stands perfectly still. As soon as she moves, it's easy to see that really, it's two loose panels draped over her, front and back. So easy to tear aside. So easy to twist into rope.
The four aunties come with her, covered in their long, coarse, burgundy robes. The first two shuffle quickly ahead of Gina, taking their place in front of her. They walk with small steps between her and the dais on which Owen and I currently sit.
The other two roll the door closed behind her, shutting out the other curious faces. They want to watch. Of course they do. Some want to remember their own ceremonies. Some are fascinated, some are thrilled in an unseemly way.
But they're not allowed to watch, and they know it. They will disperse in a moment. The punishment for interfering in a sacred ceremony is nothing they want to risk.
The aunties take even, small steps as they approach. They are positioned two in front and two in back, like the four corners of a box. Gina is in the center… the jewel in the center of a box. The white, shining pearl transported slowly over the dusty, hard floor.
Owen swallows loudly, and I can hear the click of his Adam’s apple. He's sweating now. Eager, vibrating. Maybe too eager. Or maybe he's just more filled with spirit than I am.
How will I name her? Gina? Ginaaaaaa? I roll the word around in my mind, willing it to turn into something new. Nothing comes to me.
Her eyes are dark and laser focused on mine as she comes forward. She's trying to tell me she's not frightened. She's trying to reach out to me, to establish a connection. She’s acting like we will meet as equals.
It's not going to happen that way. For a moment I almost pity her.
The first two aunties reach the dais and mount the two small steps. They circle behind Brother Owen and me, sliding their hands over our shoulders, opening our robes at the neck. I feel the woman's fingers against my throat, tugging at the thick, tied cord until the knot loosens. She reaches around with both hands to open the robe in front of me, sliding it over my chest, laying my torso bare. I feel her lean toward me.
“Rise,” she says in a low voice in my ear, and I obey.
Brother Owen rises next to me. Our garments fall away as we stand at the edge of the dais. The aunties come up behind
us and sweep the robes aside. I feel a hand snake over my hips and reach around to grasp my member, but I don't look down. I don’t need to see.
I'm looking at Gina. Her eyes widen with shock as she sees a man before her for the very first time. Brother Owen and I, exposed to this new woman. The two of us, facing forward, naked and erect, the first sight of this significance she's probably ever seen in her life.
Her pale, slender hands flutter to cover the lower half of her face as she stifles a gasp. Still, I can hear it. It's a small, animal noise. A mixture of shock, excitement and fear. It's a humble noise, for her.