by Dani René
“Dad, why are you dressed so fancy?” I giggle, because everyone in the room looks so serious. My mother’s gaze darts to him, and I notice something cross her features. Fear?
“Come on, pumpkin. We’ll be late. I wanted to dress up for your special night.” He winks in that playful way he always does, and I calm. Shaking my head of the worry, I push off the bed and race to the door. Before I get to the stairs, I hear my mother hiss, “You’re really going through with this?”
My dad’s response sounds angry, but he keeps his voice low. “I have no fucking choice. He asked to see her.” As if his hissed words broke the tension, the air clears as he turns toward me and holds out a big, strong hand. “Tonight is special, okay, Freya?” My father loves to use my given name when he’s trying to get his point across, so I nod my head, hoping that all I’ve noticed tonight is just my overactive imagination.
“Yes, Daddy. Stop being so serious. Let’s go, we’re going to be late.” As we head to the car, I don’t realize that tonight will set in motion events that will change my life forever.
“Wake up.” A deep rumble drags me from the dream, which is more of a memory. When I open my eyes, I find the man in the mask staring down at me. His heated gaze travels over my bare body, and I shudder. Shoving up, I try to sit but my arms protest. He leans in and I shy away, but his eyes darken as he watches me. He doesn’t hurt me—all he does is reach up and unlock the chains, allowing my arms to flop down to my sides.
Pins and needles tingle through my limbs, and I rub them while glaring at him. “Why am I here?” I question, hoping he’ll give me an explanation, even if it’s not one I want to hear. The unknown niggles at me and fear sets in as he meets my gaze.
His lips curl into a smirk, those seemingly black eyes bore into me, and even though the mask covers half his face, I can tell from the wrinkles around his mouth he’s much older. “You’re here to pay back a debt, princess. Now, we’re going to get acquainted, little one, and you’re going to bestow on me all those soft whimpers and moans I know you’re hiding in that pretty little mouth.” That’s when I realize I have no fucking idea how I’m going to get out of here without dying first, but I vow to never stop trying. He’ll have to kill me first.
twenty-seven-years-old
“Samael.” The harsh voice from behind me has me pivoting to find my father stalking angrily toward me, and I know this isn’t going to be good. It’s been seven years since I was brought into the fold and taught that my heritage lies in the taking of souls. And since then, I’ve prided myself in the nickname the others have given me—the Grim Fucking Reaper.
“Is something wrong?” I question with a calm tone, relaxing my stance. I take in his body language. I can read people easily and my father is a well-known story to me. I know his every nuance. When he’s angry, I can see it a mile away.
“Your sister needs to be picked up from the warehouse. The new shipment arrived and she’s been overseeing it. I need you to collect her. I’ve got Dax doing something for me.” I nod. My sister is a feisty little piece of dynamite. She may be small, but she’s got one hell of a bite. Even so I don’t want her near that man. He’s an asshole.
“Yes, I’ll go now.” Without another word he turns and leaves me staring after his retreating form. It’s strange that he’s so wound up about this. Maybe he found out about my sister fucking his right-hand man. I saw it months ago. She’s constantly down at the club when he’s working. One night, I walked into my office and turned on the cameras, and there she was in all her naked glory, bound to a bed in room four. I turned it off immediately—that was a sight that would be burned into my retinas for life. My sister fucking a man older than me.
Theia is only twenty-three. She was what we called the miracle baby. My mother had me, waited two years and then Kael came along, not long after he was born, my mother and father’s relationship fell apart. But two years later, they had a surprise when Mom went for a check-up and was told she was pregnant with her third baby. The one that would ultimately kill her. There were difficulties bringing my sister to term, and there were delivery complications. They said Theia had suffered with low birth weight and anemia.
She wasn’t expected to live, but she shocked everyone when she fought her way out of the danger zone and recovered fully. Because of all that, they decided to name her after the Greek goddess of light. And she is. She has a light that shines in her big blue eyes, which match mine. My little sister is beautiful beyond measure, and I suppose that’s why Dax is so enamored with her. Even though I think he’s way too old for her, it seems they have no shame flaunting their relationship in the club and sometimes outside as well, which only pisses me off even more.
I head up to my bedroom and grab my keys. Before heading out, I check my schedule and find that I have a training session with Pixie tonight. The woman is beautiful—small and toned, with jet-black hair and big green eyes. Her arms are fully tatted and her tits are impressive on her small frame. Just the thought of her has my dick hardening.
Heading down the stairs and through the kitchen, I find our cook preparing lunch. “Hesti.” I lean in and peck her on the cheek, to which she swats me away. I’m the only person who calls her that.
“Sammy, are you hungry?” she questions, turning to me with a motherly smile. This woman has been our saving grace. After Mom died, Hesta took on the role, and as much as some kids would be angry that she’s trying to play Mom, we loved her more for it. I suppose we hungered for the compassion. She took charge of three children who weren’t hers and she did it without complaint.
“No, I need to collect Theia from the warehouse.” She nods, turning to grab something from a tray and holds out the treat to me. As I bite into the warm, delicious confection, I realize it’s her famous dark chocolate chip cookies. “These are awesome. Thanks, Hesti.”
Once I’ve practically swallowed the whole thing, I make my way out to my sleek white Maserati. It’s a contrast to who I am—all black and darkness—while my sweet thing is white and pure. If I can find a woman as virginal as my car, I’d fuck her into submission and marry her.
As quickly as the thought crosses my mind, I stifle it.
Marriage isn’t in the cards for me. I’m in this life and there’s no getting out. My father made it clear, the only way to get out is if you die. Wolfe Enterprises has its finger in many honeypots—I chuckle at the analogy—and there’s no way you can walk away after you learn what goes on. Even though we have an upstanding business, importing and exporting electronic goods, it’s what goes on beneath the cover of darkness that’s the real moneymaker.
My father owns Caged—one of the most talked about underground BDSM clubs in the country—and the only clients we have are the vilest of men with the sickest fantasies and cravings.
Famous, wealthy, and filthy—from politicians, to police officers, even assholes who put their pretty faces on big screens across the world. They’re all regular patrons of Caged. They walk in to have their forbidden fantasies played out. And me? I’m the dark fucking prince who has been called on to train the girls to obey, pleasure, and submit. Each girl goes through a process and I, along with three other men, make sure they’re ready for what lies in those rooms.
Each client maintains his anonymity by wearing a mask. All the trainers, including myself, wear our own branded mask when we’re working. None of the girls will ever see our faces.
I’ve been the most successful at breaking each toy I’ve been gifted to train.
Each one of them is perfectly submissive and can take any form of punishment.
That’s why they call me the Grim Reaper.
I take beautiful, sweet, innocent girls and taint their innocent souls. I kill everything they hold dear—that pure virtue every girl possesses.
A toy to use as the clients wish.
As I weave my way through the traffic, I wonder what would happen if someone did that to Theia. I’d probably hunt the fuckers down and kill them. Slice them limb
from limb. Isn’t that ironic, I’ve become the type of person I would love to kill. And I wouldn’t think twice about doing it.
Pulling up to the warehouse, I find it busier than I thought. The crew is filling two gigantic trucks with boxes which I can only guess include televisions, DVD players, and the toys my father imports for resale. They are all made in South America. When they reach us, we distribute to a number of stores across the country.
“Sammy!” My sister bounds up to me and jumps into my arms. “Where is Dax?” she questions with a pout, and I shake my head in response.
“Do not let Dad hear you asking about him. And he’s busy, anyway.” She releases me from her hold and steps back, regarding me with frustration. I’ve warned her off him too many times to count, but my sister is as stubborn as I am.
“You’re just grouchy that you’re still single. You need a girl in your life.” Her retort comes with a playful swat which earns her a narrowed stare.
“I’m not grouchy. All I want is for you to be safe. I don’t need you dating someone who’s old enough to be your father. It’s just weird.”
“He’s not that old,” she gasps. “What if you met a girl who’s young and beautiful? Would you say the same thing?” I head into the warehouse before answering her.
“It’s not the same thing.” Her heels click behind me, and I can feel her burning a hole in my back with her pretty blue eyes, which seem to glow with a gemstone light at times. “You’re my sister, and I need to protect you from assholes.”
“Dax is not an asshole. He’s sweet and kind and he treats me like a princess.” I turn to regard her and see the emotion in her expression. She’s falling for him.
“So you’ve submitted to a man who Father will kill if he were to find out.” My heart rate kicks up at the thought of my sister becoming like the girls I train. Turning into the type of girl that I yearn for—a submissive who will kneel for me when I bid her.
“Sam, I’m not a child anymore. If he wants to disown me the way he did with Kael, then so be it. I’ll be better off without him in my life. It’s my choice and I will do what I want. Now, let’s go home. I’m hungry and I have work to do.” She responds without actually answering the question I asked. She spins on her heel and leaves me gaping at her back. Fuck! Why do women have to be so frustrating?
Your Light
The light that shines through your cracks never dims.
It’s then that I see love.
It’s then that I find happiness.
Even in our darkness, you blind me with your light.
dani rené
two years later
“You’re an incredibly beautiful girl, pet,” he slurs in my ear, sending revulsion through me. “Tonight, I want to see how well your tight little ass handles a ten-inch dildo. Then you’re going to swallow my cock.” A chuckle, which has my body quivering with fear and my spine tingling with panic, falls from his cracked lips. “Too bad I can’t rip your cherry from you. I’d love to see you bleed on my cock.”
The rope around my wrists tightens as he tugs me to my feet. He remains silent as he leads me to the bed, which is covered in the finest crimson silk sheets. I climb onto the mattress without his order, because I know what he wants. This isn’t the first time he’s done this, and somehow I know it won’t be the last.
“Kneel, head down, ass up,” he growls with such perverse lust I feel it in my bones. “I want these precious arms between your legs.” Once again, he pulls on the thick binding, which bites into my sensitive skin, and proceeds tying my wrists to my ankles, leaving me at his mercy. But as always, there’ll be none.
The cold steel of a blade taunts my skin as it slithers its way down my thighs, like a venomous snake readying itself to strike. Dread grips my chest and breathing becomes difficult. “Such a pretty little slut with beautiful holes I’m going to use.” The tip of the knife he wields trails under the delicate material of the panties that cover my most intimate area. When it falls away, the cold air hits my core and I stifle the gasp by biting my lip so hard, a metallic taste fills my mouth.
It’s silent for a while, and then I hear it—the swish of leather echoing loudly in my ears. Then it starts.
One. Two. Three.
Blinding pain lashes my back and ass. The whip licks against the smooth lips of my pussy, stinging as it continues its attack on my flesh.
Four. Five. Six.
“Fucking little whore! Cry for me.” He goads me into it every time. It’s as if he needs my tears to feel like a man. His face is hidden behind a mask, but I don’t need to see it to know that he is the devil. Satan himself. Evil hangs heavy in the air that swirls around him, following him around like a cloud. An aura.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
He stops for a beat and waits for it, but I don’t give in. I don’t allow myself to offer him my tears. He may hurt me, he may make me bleed, but he’ll never possess me.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
The whip drops onto the plush carpet. His footfalls fade, and the sound of matches send anxiety over every inch of my skin. “You can fight it all you want, little one, you’ll cry. I will make sure of it,” he vows with salacious intent. “The men you’ll be meeting soon want those pretty tears. That’s why you’re here. To give them what they can’t have at home. Those pretty little princesses, all dressed up in shiny dresses with innocence dripping from them, can’t be touched, but you,”—he strokes a finger over my core—“you’re going to fulfill men’s desires.”
Without warning, he slams a smooth, long object into my dry pussy, and I cry out so loud I wish there were neighbors nearby to hear me. He continues his assault, plunging in and out. I can’t tell what it is, but the edge bites into my inner walls, sending searing pain shooting through me.
“Oh, how I’d love to really break you in, princess.” His words are filled with wonderment, and I’m confused about their meaning. “To make this tight little cunt all woman. To see your beautiful crimson blood marking this candle. But I won’t, because if I do, I won’t get paid.” The sound of a match being struck booms around me as if it’s on a surround-sound speaker system. “Let it all burn away, sweetheart. You may be a virgin, but you’re no longer innocent.”
At that very moment, as his words seep into my mind, I fear I may never get back what I’ve lost. I’ve been in this hell for a year and as much as I’ve tried to be strong, each time he’s hurt me, every time he brings me in here, it’s carved into my heart. The pain and fear have broken me. The only thing I hold onto is my soul. And deep down I grieve. I cry inwardly. Shutting my eyes tight, I let all my emotions tumble and twirl in my chest. The tears he promised flow freely down my cheeks, but he’ll not hear me cry.
Hot liquid drips onto my puckered entrance and the scent of flowers hits my senses, causing me to retch at the sweet fragrance in this utterly vile room. The buzzing of the dildo he promised taunts me before I’m filled painfully, and it feels as if I’m being ripped in two. The agony is beyond anything I’ve ever felt. “Gorgeous. Just fucking perfect. Do you feel that, princess? One day soon, this will be a man inside you. Don’t you like that? You’ll be a whore, only good for one thing. A toy for men to use for pleasure.” With that, he continues plunging the plastic cock into my ass, faster and deeper until I feel a sticky splatter on my back, and I know he’s just come all over my ass.
Music drifts from the closed door dragging me from the memory of what he did to me on my seventeenth birthday. Here I stand, eighteen years old, an adult, and a man I’ve never seen is still holding me prisoner.
As the melodies filter through the grate in the wall, I hear the laughter of the guests. He’s coming for me. He always does. Pulling on the robe, I tie my hair into a bun, and I apply the gloss to my lips, like he told me. It’s been two long years since he brought me to this room. Since the night I was stolen from my family. It’s been two long years, and even though he’s not taken my virginity, he’s hurt me in many other ways. I know tonight will
not be any different.
The door opens and he walks in. His smirk sends an eerie feeling skittering across my skin, and I can’t stop the tremble. As much as I try to stay strong, he has a way of getting to me. Slithering beneath the surface, poisoning me with just a wicked glare.
“There’s my little princess.” He’s taken to calling me that, and I hate it. Never has he used my real name, and I wonder if he knows who I am. Of course he does, he bought me, or stole me. I don’t know what happened. To this day, he hasn’t given me so much as an inkling of why or how I ended up here. All he’s told me is that I’m here to pay off a debt. Whose? I may never know. “Tonight is special. You’re eighteen, and after two years of waiting, you’re ready to begin your training and get to work.” He smiles as he tells me this. In all the times he’s been in here and hurt me, he’s never given me a genuine smile. Yet it’s even more sinister than his evil grins.
“What do you mean?” It’s stupid to question, but I do anyway.
My captor—the stranger—stares at me with amusement dancing in those dark eyes. He’s in a good mood. At least there’s no tension radiating off him. The mask he’s worn every time I’ve seen him is in place. Taunting me by hiding his identity. “Tonight you’ll meet your new Master or shall I say, owner. He’s pleased with the videos he’s seen of you. You’ll be going home with him this evening.”
His words send fear coursing through me and panic flaring in my chest. “No, I mean, why—”
With two long strides he closes the distance between us and instantly his hand is around my throat. “If you so much as utter one negative thing, I’ll be forced to snuff you out. Don’t fucking tempt me. Because before I do, I’ll make sure that cute little body of yours is ruined so badly, they won’t even recognize your corpse,” he hisses in my face with venom dripping off each word.
