Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
My Missing Daughter Is My Slave
Nym Hexel
Toby Moore stepped into the dim garden shed at the far end of the backyard, forty-five years old and solid through the chest and shoulders from years of yard work and quiet control. His dark hair was cropped short, a few strands of gray at the temples, and a short beard framed a firm jaw. His eyes were a cool blue that rarely softened. He wore a simple work shirt with the sleeves rolled up and old jeans, the scent of grass and earth still clinging to him from the afternoon. The shed smelled of wood, old tools, and the faint metallic note of the chain that hung from a heavy ring bolted into the wall.
Georgia Moore sat on the thin mattress in the corner, twenty years old and naked except for the leather collar locked around her throat. The chain ran from the collar to the wall ring, long enough for her to move a few feet but no farther. Her black hair hung in tangled waves past her shoulders, a few strands sticking to the light sheen of sweat on her neck. She had a full, heavy bust that rose and fell with each cautious breath, soft pink nipples already tight from the cool air inside the shed. Her waist narrowed before flaring into rounded hips and strong thighs. Her face was pretty in a quiet way, full lips pressed together, wide dark eyes fixed on the floor with clear fear.
She had been reported missing for a full year. Neighbors still left flowers by the mailbox some weeks. Toby had given interviews, accepted casseroles, and shaken his head in public grief. In private he kept her here.
He closed the shed door behind him and locked it from the inside. The soft click made Georgia flinch. She drew her knees up, arms wrapping around them in a useless attempt to cover herself.
“Dad… please. Not again. I can’t.”
Toby set a small bag on the workbench and turned. His gaze moved over her without apology, lingering on the full weight of her breasts and the soft crease between her thighs. “You’re quieter than yesterday. That’s good.”
Georgia’s voice shook. “Someone is going to find out. They still look for me. You can’t keep doing this.”
He crossed the small space and crouched in front of her. One large hand settled on her knee, heavy and warm. She tried to pull away, but the chain rattled and stopped her short. Toby’s fingers slid higher along the soft inner thigh, slow and certain.