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Fallen Daughters

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Yet…

This woman was already broken.

It was clear to me. She was an empty shell. Just as I was.

“Have you ever been beaten?” I asked as I finished my last bite.

“No.” She looked up at me as she answered, but I saw no fear in her eyes. Damnit, why?

“Have you even been spanked? Choked? Flogged?”

“No.”

“Fucked?”

She shook her head. “No.”

I stood up and gathered the dishes, expecting to hear the answers she gave. Each beauty usually had the same answer. Some hadn’t been virgins, but in this fucked up world, most had not willingly given it up.

“Is that what you plan to do to me tonight?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Yes,” I answered simply. “Though I may not beat you if you do everything I ask, when I ask it, and exactly how I ask you to do it.” I turned to look at her and noticed how she fiddled with her hands in her lap, but she did not cry. She did not plead. She wasn’t scanning the room for something she could use to try to kill me with, like all the others had done in the past.

Her lack of emotion unnerved me. It made me angry. She should be fighting for her life now. She should be! What the fuck was wrong with her?

I stormed over to where she sat and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her out of her seat and throwing her against the wall.

She gasped, but did not scream.

I pressed my mouth to hers, thrusting my tongue past her lips, waiting for her to bite, to shove, to struggle against such an intimate touch.

She only returned the kiss, cautious at first, but did not resist at all.

I grabbed her breast and broke away from the kiss so I could watch her expression. Pinching her nipple hard, I waited for a cry, a scream, something. All I saw was her pupils dilate and her mouth open slightly.

Feeling as if I were losing this battle, I lowered my hand and pressed my finger into her pussy without any warning at all. Her wetness made the invasion simple, and when she spread her legs wider and moaned in response, I lost my fucking mind.

Thrusting my finger up inside her as deeply as I could, I growled, “You should be fucking terrified!” I thrust again, and then again. Each thrust harder than the last. Her juices seeped around my finger, coating my palm.

She moaned loudly with each aggressive movement of my hand, clinging to my back as if holding onto life.

With my other hand, I grabbed her throat and began to squeeze. “I could kill you right now.”

Her eyes widened, but I still saw no fear.

Her pussy tightened around my finger, and I knew that if I continued, she would come. She was going to fucking come instead of cry!

In a moment of rage, I flipped her around to face the wall.

Still no cry. Not even a whimper.

I slapped her ass hard, waiting for a squeal of pain.

Nothing.

Taking a hold of her hair, yanking hard at the scalp, I swatted her ass fiercely again, and then again.

Breaths of air released from her open mouth, but still no cries for mercy. No shouts. No begging to God.

I continued to spank her ass, watching it pinken beneath my touch. I would win this battle. She would reveal her fear to me by the time this night was over. This beauty would confirm to me that she was not more fucked up than I. She and I did not share the same blackness. Yes, she may be broken, but I was worse. I was nothing more than a million shattered obscure pieces, and I would prove to her that she was still whole enough to crack.

I would crack her. I would fucking crack her.

Hating myself with each spank of her ass, I couldn’t take it anymore. I shoved her down to the ground, towering over her. “Look at me,” I shouted. “Why do you not cry? Do you want to die?”

Her big eyes stared up at me. I saw pain in them, a deep despair. But I did not see fear.

“Answer me,” I demanded. “Do you wish to die?”

In the most tender of voices, she answered, “I learned a long time ago that I don’t get to make that decision. I have no control over when I die.”

“But do you want me to kill you tonight? If you show no fear, if you don’t cry, if you don’t plead, how do you know I will stop?”

“Am I in control of when you stop?” she asked in the same tender voice, her eyes never leaving mine.

“No, you have no fucking say in what I do to you,” I said between clenched teeth, hating that she was in far more control than I was. She had the strength to fight the urge to scream. She had the dominance over her own body and suppressed the trembles. Eden Rose had full command of her emotions and I hated her for it.



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