The Dalwick Demon

by Ashley Bennett

It had been ages since the last sacrifice, but since Father Aldous had taken over the parish, he’d reignited a sense of religious righteousness and zealotry amongst the townsfolk. Of all the sinners in Grafberg, it appeared he’d chosen me to make an example of.

Another mistress. Why couldn’t they leave those poor women alone? Or at least make the men utilizing their services suffer alongside them?

My mouth hung open and I couldn’t help but stare. “Iris,” Selvyn said in that deliciously rumbling voice of his. “My eyes are up here.”

I wanted Selvyn to push boundaries with me–to walk the line without crossing it. I wanted to reclaim the things I’d been made to feel ashamed of. “I-I want you to call me your little whore,” I whispered. He pulled back and looked at me with wide eyes. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” I said with a nod. “Alright, my little whore. Lean back and part your legs for me.”

“There is no God here, Iris. He could never bring you this sort of pleasure.”

“Thank you for giving me this, angel. Thank you for taking me so perfectly,” Selvyn praised,

“Selvyn,” I whispered. “Hmm, angel?” He didn’t bother to open his eyes. “God could never bring me that sort of pleasure.”

I hadn’t wilted in the time I’d spent with him in the dark. I’d bloomed.