Fiendish: A Twisted Fairytale
Fiendish
A Twisted Fairytale
By: Meka James
Copyright © 2014
Itzy
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
I’m dedicating this book in memory of my friend Jill
Zakrajsek. Her constant cheering and encouragement is what made me decide to turn this story into a book. Thank you Jill! You are missed.
I would like to say thank you to my wonderful husband for making it possible for me to have the time to write this book. And to my kiddies, Mommy loves you.
Thank you to
DJ Madame Noir
for the wonderful cover art.
Thank you to Victoria Carr and
Erin Lancaster
for their help in editing. I learned a lot about the grammar rules along the way. Thanks ladies!
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living, or dead, or any events is
entirely coincidental. Some of the locales are real trademarked places used to add realism to the story while others may be the product of the author's imagination.
Warning: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes some that may contain dubious and non-consent, adult language, and graphic violence and may be considered offensive to some readers.
Sometimes the strongest people are the ones who love beyond all faults, cry behind closed doors, and fight battles that nobody knows about.
~Author Unknown
Table of Contents
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
Chapter 25
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
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
Epilogue
As I descended the spiral staircase, her muffled cries drifted up towards me. She sat huddled near her cell door with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Her flawless porcelain skin was now streaked with dirt, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying.
“Good morning, my Pet.”
The sound of my voice sent the frantic girl scrabbling backwards, hiding herself in the small space between the twin-sized bed and the rough cinderblock wall. Her chocolate brown eyes screamed fear as she peered at me through the metal headboard.
“Please let me go!” she cried. “I just want to go home!”
“But, you said you wanted to help me celebrate my birthday, which is today. You can’t leave before we’ve had our fun,” I answered dispassionately as I stood in front of the Plexiglas wall that separated us.
I observed the woman on her knees, begging for her freedom. She was exquisite; her ebony hair framed her lovely oval face perfectly. Her breasts were full, sitting high on her chest and real, which was most important.
I couldn’t stand the fake ones; they took something away from the experience.
I felt the tightening in my pants as I imagined how her full lips would feel wrapped around my dick. Her body was well toned from working out three times a week: cardio and yoga. Her routine was the same in the two weeks I
’d spent watching her. The only variation would be whether or not she had to work. Routines made it easy for me to know when and where to approach her.
I’d spent hours watching her as she slept off the drugs last night. She was probably the best specimen I’ve had so far, so I wanted to take my time with her.
But the crying, the constant crying is annoying.
“Maybe I should gag you.”
Her eyes widened when she heard those words, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hands.
Or maybe the threat was enough.
“I brought you breakfast,” I stated, raising my hand slightly to show her the bowl I carried. “Hope you like oatmeal.”
I walked over to the wall to enter in the combination and release the lock on the door. She eased over towards the bed, eyeing me warily as I entered the cell. I sat the bowl and spoon down on the table then exited the room, relocking the door behind me.
“Wait, please don
’t leave me down here!” she begged, rushing towards the door. “Please let me go!” she cried out, banging her fists against the Plexiglas wall.
Why aren
’t you playing with her now?
“I
’ll be back to play later. I have errands to run.”
I continued up the spiral staircase then closed and locked the door of the storage shed, effectively cutting off all sound coming from the cellar.
***
I adjusted my purse strap as I entered Carroll Street Cafe. The warm air and fragrant scent of coffee embraced me the moment I stepped through the door. Today was again cool and dreary in the wonderful city of Atlanta. When Macy and I moved here three years ago, the weather was the easiest thing to deal with since it was similar to what we
’d experienced back home in Charlotte.
Glancing around the cozy neighborhood joint, I scanned the small crowd, looking for my friend. I saw parents with their kids already decked out in their Halloween costumes; there were even a few adults donning them as well. Macy, however, was nowhere to be seen. Taking a seat at one of the small tables, a server walked over with a glass of water, handing me a menu and silverware rolled in their black cloth napkins. I shrugged out of my jacket, smiling up giving her a silent thank you, then pulled my phone from my purse and saw the message indicator light blinking.
Got a flat waiting on AAA
The moment I saw Macy
’s text, I got a sinking feeling the morning wasn’t going to get any better.
Bummer, they say how long?
I responded, holding out hope that maybe she was going to be on the way soon, since the message had arrived fifteen minutes earlier.
yeah
30 min wait 40 min ago LOL
figures-
will grab croissants to go.
Ok. Sorry
Not UR fault.
How did it go?
Will tell you at home.
I groaned loudly as I stuffed my phone back in my purse, drawing curious stares from those seated near me. Looking quickly down at my lap, I smoothed out imaginary wrinkles from my simple, black wrap dress until their conversations resumed. I had been looking forward to unwinding with Macy over a Chai latte, chocolate croissants, and discussing what I had hoped would have been a great interview. But, since I
’d blown the interview, I now just wanted to drown my sorrows. Thinking about how badly it had gone this morning made me cover my face with my hands and let out another small groan.
The moment I
’d walked into Patrick Thorn’s office, he’d looked disappointed, and it never got any better. He was not impressed with the fact I had only completed two years of college or with my limited front office skills. I tried my best to remain confident-looking and to maintain eye contact, but something told me it wasn’t going to matter. That man eyed me in a way that left me feeling like he wanted someone with a certain look, and I doubted I held that look.
I
’d wanted this job more than any of the others I’d interviewed for. Patrick Thorn was one of Atlanta’s top interior designers, and since interior design was my dream field, working for him would have been a huge boost in the right direction.
I brushed back a wispy strand of my horrid red hair that had managed to escape the ponytail which tried to contain it. Macy getting a flat was just another thing that went wrong today. Sighing quietly, I pushed back my chair to go buy the croissants before heading home. I felt it bump against something followed by the sound of one of the ceramic coffee cups crashing to the concrete floor. Slowly, I looked down to see a pair of black-clad legs now splattered with coffee.
“I’m so, so sorry!” I stammered as I stood up only to be horrified when I saw that the coffee had also landed on his white shirt. “Oh no!” I groaned.
Turning back to the table, I hurriedly unrolled the silverware from the napkin, and it clicked noisily on the wooden table. After dipping the napkin in the water glass, I began blotting furiously at his shirt. I braced myself for the angry tirade I expected at any moment. Instead, he stood there flinging coffee off his hand, not saying a word. My face heated with embarrassment, and I tried not to look at the other patrons as I knelt in front of him to start cleaning his pants.
I continued to mutter apologies, growing more and more nervous the longer he stayed silent. One of the employees came over with a rag and small trash can to clean up the floor. I thanked her quietly before standing to finally face the still-silent stranger.
Gazing at his face, I was briefly at a loss for words. He stood with his arms crossed and his head cocked to the side as if he were studying me. The neutral expression he wore made it hard to tell if he was in shock or pissed. I tried not to stare, but his eyes made it impossible to look away. They were the most vibrant blue eyes I had ever seen. They weren
’t the typical sky blue, light colored ones, no; his were a fully saturated deep blue with what looked like flakes of gold in them. They were as gorgeous as he was.
“I
’m um…so sorry. I don’t have much cash, but let me at least give you something for the cleaning or at the very least another cup of coffee,” I stammered while reaching for my purse. Unfortunately, since I was captivated by his face, I ended up knocking it on the floor and sending the contents scattering. “Shit!” I exclaimed, adding to my embarrassment.
Tears stung my eyes as I quickly knelt down to pick up my purse and all its items. Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I attempted to regain my composure because the last thing I needed to do was cry on top of everything else. I kept my head down while I scrambled to pick up everything. He squatted to help me, and I wondered why he still hadn
’t spoken. Maybe he was deaf or spoke a different language. Either way, it only added to my nervousness.
