Eosi’s Redemption

* - *

- Hank, eight years later - 

* - *

Hank opened his eyes, it took a moment for the blur to dissipate, and for him to grasp that he was not in his cell anymore. As difficult as adjusting to life outside was, that special moment felt good, a sensation at least to have risen to a kinder level of hell. 

As his eyes adjusted, the dirty mattress of the upper bunk got into focus, a depressing stained view, breathing up and down under the heavy snores of fat Jerry, his top bunk neighbor. There were four men in the small halfway-house room, attempting to adjust to their newfound freedom. At least it was not prison, at least that part was over. It had been a rough ride, he recalled.

The beginning especially, being thrown-in like a piece of meat in the dog pit. He quickly figured surviving was about learning new codes, new ways, not making waves. That worked for a while, until his conviction for abuse of a high-school girl became common knowledge. He was innocent he claimed, but then so was everybody else if you believed them. Life became harder, with threats, fights, talks of a shanking attack.

And there was no help from the outside, nobody cared. He fought a few times, took beatings, but he survived. That lasted a year, until Mario, his mob-connected cellmate and frankly his savior, came in. Mario took Hank under his wing, and all the others backed off. Hank then slowly adjusted, got a job with maintenance and repairs, and started exercising. Each day resembled the next, and before long they became weeks and months. 

However, even with this repetitive life of habit and relative calm, he never truly felt safe, and rightly so. Hank’s parole was denied at five years, and eventually Mario was transferred to a different facility, while a year and a half remained on Hank’s sentence. That’s when it got bad, real bad. The memories of that last stretch were giving him nightmares and often kept him awake at night. When that happened, as annoying as the snoring from fat Jerry was, as disgusting as the stench of four men in the small moldy halfway house room was, he was grateful for it.

In the morning, he would again try and look for a full-time job, so he could make enough money to get out of here and get his own place. Having had to register as a sex offender was not helping either. And even though he was denied early parole, he still had to report to an officer regularly and had to stay in the county for at least 6 months. A county where he was known as the “Groundskeeper Sadist.'' He knew it would take a miracle to get a lease, but he had to try to move on and rebuild, and it started by getting his own place, where he could be at peace. 

In the afternoon, he would work a few hours at the construction site, where he was paid little more than dirt. He was certain the Parole officer who got him the job was earning more in kickbacks than Hank was making overall. But there was an upside. Walking back to the halfway house, he would stop at this hot-dog street stand manned by Francisco, an old Mexican immigrant with a weathered face and a legendary mustache. Hank had gotten to like him and they would chit-chat most days, he was undocumented and being on the margin of society gave them something in common. But it was the food that Hank really enjoyed. There was something about the strong flavor of the spicy meat and the fresh onions, tasting it sizzling hot, right off the grill. Something that filled him with warmth and broke-off from his otherwise crummy reality. Hank was stopping there every evening now, after toiling for free or close to it.

* - *

One night Francisco told him in his thick accent: 

- “There was a beautiful girl just here for you, Ese, skinny Asiatica. She wants to talk to you, over there, in the alley behind the Irish pub.”

Hank quickly turned his head, saw a fleeting silhouette disappearing around the corner. He couldn’t believe it. In shock he made his way, turned the corner and rushed into the dark cul-de-sac. And there she was, back against the brick wall, in the shadow of the disgusting restaurant trash bin. 

She looked beautiful, elegant, in sharp contrast to the dirty alley littered with garbage. She was wearing a dark skirt and a gray business suit. Her hair was shorter, shoulder length only. She looked taller than her 5’6” on her heels, her wiry and toned caramel legs slightly shaking. Time had sharpened the features of her face, as eight years would do. She was still as svelte as the last time he saw her, if not thinner.

- She tried a timid “Hello Hank-Sir” followed by a soft “it’s good to see you.”

Hank just stared at her, the rough skin of his face turning a brighter red with each heartbeat, and the veins on his temples starting to pulse.

- “Hank I… I’ve been waiting…” she dared.

Hank’s blood had reached its boiling point, he exploded and lunged forward, grabbing her by the collar and violently lifting her against the wall. Her head bounced forward after knocking the back of her skull on the bricks, her feet dangling off the ground. He put his forearm against her collarbone and gave a hard push that compressed her frail frame against the rock-hard wall.

- “What the fuck are you doing here!” He screamed an inch from her face. 

She did not find the words. 

Hank knew very well he was not allowed within 500 yards from her, the supposed victim of his perverted crime.

- “Do you want to send me back in? Is that what you want? Eight fucking years were not enough for you?” he yelled.

Back in prison, after months of obsessing on the impossible emotional dissonance that was Eosi, Hank had made a decision to suppress her in his mind, to erase his feelings to save his sanity. But now she was right here, once more at his mercy. The floodgates had opened and the thoughts were gushing in. There were violent thoughts. In one that was particularly enticing, he was crushing her pretty neck and leaving her lifeless body amongst the filthy garbage of the alley.

- “I should fucking end you right here!” he said forcefully in her face, as tears were coming to her eyes, “but even that would be too good for a bitch like you.”

- “Hank-Sir, I am so sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes flooding. “There are no words for what I did, I know it…”

- “Then shut your trap!” He interrupted. 

He was pressing her harder against the wall and he could see her face turning a light shade of purple. That didn’t stop him from shifting even more weight to his arm.

She tried speaking again, but the pressure on her neck was making it more difficult: “I didn’t want to… I tried to make it right…”

- “I don’t want to hear it!” He screamed at her again. 

He could feel her warm but quickly weakening breath on his face. She was not resisting his push, she was neither kicking nor screaming, her hands had simply grabbed his forceful arm at the wrist and elbow, but she was not pushing back. 

His rage was telling him it would be so easy to finish it, he would just have to press a bit further on the soft skin of her vulnerable neck, to shut-down the air flow completely. He somehow formed the idea that she might actually let him, and it brought back flashes of her young body surrendered to him, back in the cursed basement. He felt himself getting hard. 

His anger betrayed by his own desires, he backed-up and she dropped on the floor, her legs collapsing, weakened from the lack of air. 

- “Stay away from me if you know what’s good for you.” He threatened, as he turned away from her.

- “Hank-Sir!” she called in a muted rasp voice, as she was trying to recover her ability to breathe.

Hank disappeared around the corner, he did not give her a second look. If he had been an alcoholic, he would have downed a bottle of whisky that very night, to mute feelings he did not know how to process.

Instead, he spent the night turning and tossing. No sleep at all, and seldom the next few nights. He kept picturing her, the naked skinny girl in front of him back at the school, the woman he felt was almost welcoming his rage in the alley. But it would last only a fraction of an instant, until the image of the girl in the witness stand took over, charging him in a cold voice, and destroying his life. The pain he had managed to mute and hide in a corner of his mind all these years was coming back in full force. 

After a few nights, he realized this could not go on much longer. He would need to deal with the situation, to confront and address it head-on.

* - *

The opportunity came exactly a week after the events in the alley, again with Francisco.

- “Skinny Asiatica was here again, Ese. Asking about you.”

This caught Hank’s attention fully.

- “What did she want?”

- “She gave me a note amigo, here you go.” He handed a small envelope to Hank. “Loca thinks this is secundaria?”

- “Yeah loca alright. You have no idea my friend.” replied Hank, very seriously.

- “Amigo, you got this young hermosa chasing after you… maybe la vida no es so bad, eh?”

Hank nodded with a smile finally peaking at the corner of his mouth. He started walking back towards the halfway house, even forgetting to buy his usual hot dog. He waited until he was lying on his bunk to tear the envelope open. The text was short, in a perfect handwriting:

“Very dear Hank Sir,

Last week you held me and I felt all was not lost. Please hear what I would say. I will wait for you every day at noon behind the old toilets at the park on 25th & Taylor.

Your Eosi.”

He read it again, and once more. A few things shocked him, first that she had the guts to ask him again to meet in a secluded place, alone, just two months out, after spending eight years of his life behind bars, for agreeing to the same request? And then, he held her? Really he “held” her? What he remembered was nearly choking her to death, out of pure rage. Was it really how she perceived their encounter? This whole thing smelt like a trap? But no matter, Hank had to know.

The park was not very far, and Hank decided to go see the location right away. He arrived there as the sun was setting. Indeed, it was well chosen. The old toilets were in a far corner, out of the way, the building looked like it had been in disrepair for a number of years, and one had to walk through a few bushes to get to the area behind it, a space enclosed by the tall wall corner covered in wild vines, the back of the toilet building and bushes all around. There were a few broken beer bottles amongst the weeds, but it didn’t show any recent sign of activity, thanks to the park now being closed at night.

The next day, before his shift at the construction site, Hank came back and observed, hidden in plain sight in the crowded end of the park, at a far enough distance not to be noticed. He saw Eosi’s silhouette come in from the closest entrance to the old restrooms and walk towards the meeting point, disappearing in the woods and vegetation surrounding the old toilets. She stayed for a good 45 minutes, then emerged and left the same way. She did not even try to look for him. Perhaps she was expecting him to observe, and wanted to earn his trust? She came back the day after, and the next, following the same routine. Each day, after making sure she had arrived, Hank would walk the park and the surrounding streets, trying to uncover a setup. Despite his best efforts, he didn’t see the Police, or anything suspicious. He was still weary of the risks of course, but he also was as tormented as ever and needed this meeting. He now had a plan, and Francisco, the closest person he had to a friend in this new life, would help him.

* - *

On the day Hank decided to meet, he surveyed Eosi’s entrance in the park as usual and watched her walk towards the meeting place. Then Francisco, as he had been instructed, followed her and disappeared as well. He reappeared a few minutes later, and slowly made his way to Hank. 

- “She’s good amigo, telefono was off. Couldn’t find nada. She looked at me weird at first, but she let me search, no complaints.” He continued “She’s a pretty one, you got it good.”

After the exchange, Hanks started to make his way to the meeting place, walking through the trees and finally entering the bushes, to emerge into the hidden space and to the sight of Eosi. She was in a pitiful state, it appeared. Francisco had done a thorough job body-searching her. As Hank recalled, the latino had shown genuine enthusiasm when discussing that part of the plan. 

Eosi was standing barefoot in the weeds and dirt, her back to the toilet wall, biting her nails nervously. Her shiny shoes were tossed aside, and so was her business jacket, pockets and inside lining torn apart. The buttons of her shirt had been ripped open partly exposing her tan chest. Her flat-looking white bra had been pulled down and flipped inside out, with the padding foam hanging out of the lace. Her semi-exposed chest and the inner side of her small breasts were heaving slowly, and he could still see dark and purple bruises around her collarbone from the week before. Her skirt was ripped in the middle as well, all the way up to the belt, exposing pink cotton panties that were pulled off to the side and half wedged in her pussy, uncovering a patch of her bushy black hair and a labia. Francisco had searched everywhere indeed.

Eosi turned her head towards Hank, instantly brightening the look on her worried face.

- “You came, Hank Sir!”

This time he kept his calm, but the rage was not far.

- “Yes I came”, he said. Looking at her disheveled appearance, he could feel a slow warmth building in his loin, despite a creeping anger. 

- “I came because I want to know why you sent me to prison.” he continued, his hand was twitching, he was so close to snapping again. 

She started sobbing, and it took all her strength to suppress it: 

- “I have no right…” she sniffed, “after what I did to you, I am sorry.”

Eosi took a deep breath:

- “After we got caught, I was lost, I was not ready… I didn’t have the strength… I said to my parents… I tried to say it was my idea, but…” 

It was really difficult for her to say those words, Hank could sense it, like she was trying to push a mountain out of the way at the sheer strength of her wiry arms.

- “My family,” she continued, “my mom, my dad… they told me it would destroy our family, bring shame for generations. The lawyer, she told me that my grandma… she said she would die of embarrassment and sadness…”

She was breathing with difficulty:

- “And I went with it…, at the trial… I just… This is what I did…” 

This time, she fully broke into tears.

- “I betrayed you…” she continued between sobs. It took a while for her to calm down, her red puffy eyes adding to the half-naked mess of a girl standing in front of Hank. “I destroyed your life, and… you don’t have to believe me or even care, but it tore me apart as well… with my family it got bad… I didn’t know what to do, and didn’t know how to live with myself. ”

She paused and turned her forearms up, bringing them together and showing them to Hank through her torn shirt sleeves. Hank stayed impassible, but he could see numerous scars lining her arms, all the way to a criss-cross on her wrists. It certainly looked like she had at one point been hurting herself, and maybe attempted to end it all. After a pause she resumed:

- “It took me a long time, but finally I broke up with my family, and I made it because I thought, I hoped that we could meet again… because that short time with you was when I felt alive.” 

Her eyes were looking down, her legs starting to shake again.

- “I want to be with you, I don’t deserve it but I am yours.” She started to cry again. “Whatever it takes, I will do it…” She fell on her knees and hugged his legs, in continued silent sobs.

Hank hadn’t moved during the whole tirade. The feeling of warmth was gaining inside him. He could feel “something” for Eosi, but the anger was overwhelming. There was no way he could give in to the young woman’s sobs after the past eight years, no fucking way. He stepped back, breaking her hold.

- “You goddamn bitch you think you can erase the last years because of your supposed feelings?”

- “You could take me if you want, I will do whatever you want…” she replied, still sobbing.

- “You’re crazy if you think you can fuck your way out of this.” Hank replied in a dry tone.

- “You… you can make me hurt, I deserve it… I should pay for what I did to you…” she uttered softly.

He could feel his cock slowly getting hard with her pleas, looking at the distressed caramel beauty kneeling at his feet. He stood for a minute, then reached towards her and in a powerful gesture, ripped the remains of her shirt completely open. Her small breasts were now fully exposed, they looked firm and perky with dark tips, resting on her slim rib-waved chest already bruised at the top. Hank took each breast in his powerful hands, making sure to grab as much flesh as possible, since there was not that much to latch-on in the first place. Then he squeezed with all his strength and lifted-up. Eosi's face immediately contorted and her mouth opened, intending to let out a scream. Hank beat her to it:

- “Don’t you dare make a sound!” he said forcefully but with a low voice.

She caught herself in time and bit her lower lip instead, hard. Hank brought her up to his level, and gave a sharp yank to his wrists, imprinting the next level of pain to her breasts and sending a shock wave through her whole body.

- “How is that for pain?” he said, sadistically. 

He promptly continued:

- “I’m going to need a lot more than words to even start considering anything” he declared. “You want to make up for the past? You start devoting your life to fixing mine, right now!”

After a short break, getting his thoughts together:

- “You are going to start by finding me a car, and a decent home. It needs to be inside the county but I want a quiet place out of the way, I can’t stand the thought of people around me anymore. Arrange it, and you’re paying for it as well. All cash and in my name, figure out a way. And the whole thing better go smoothly!”

She nodded as much as she could, her whole body still shaking trying to keep quiet from the barbaric torsion of her poor breasts. 

- ”Good.” He tossed her back on the dirt. “I’ll give you two weeks. You can signal Francisco when you are ready. And speaking of Francisco, I think you owe him for helping with this little get together.”

He stepped through the bushes, gestured to Francisco to join them, then came back. At this point if the cops hadn’t jumped on them already he was safe, he thought. The Mexican arrived shortly after, and both turned their gaze to Eosi, clothes torn, silently cupping her bruised breasts.

- “Time to thank our amigo Francisco. Suck him off!” Hank ordered Eosi. 

The sound of his own words surprised him, what a fucked-up thing to say, had he sunk that low? But the anger inside him, and his memories from prison quickly dissipated any hesitation. Francisco was delighted, but Eosi looked shocked, she didn’t expect that. She stared at Hank for a moment, but then proceeded without complaint.

She adjusted herself in front of Francisco, who had walked towards her and undone his belt. She carefully lifted a respectably sized organ out of his pants and brought it to her mouth. She opened her lips, then clumsily closed them around the tip of the quickly stiffening shaft. She didn’t look experienced, but she did her best, working her mouth back and forth, ever slightly deeper, her hands on Francisco’s legs.

- “And don’t let anything drop!” Hank interjected. He didn’t want any evidence remaining.

Francisco grumbled a few “Madre de dios!”, “Que Rico” and an encouraging “Chupa puta!” with a grin under his imposing mustache.

Finally the Mexican grabbed her head and planted himself deep, his whole body shaking a few times. Eosi instinctively tried to pull back but couldn’t, she half choked and coughed with the dick still in her mouth. She quickly brought her hands to cup whatever fluid might leak at her chin, as he pulled out. She swallowed.

- “Lavalo puta!...” She didn’t understand. “Clean it bitch!” Francisco clarified.

And she did, licking his softening member conscientiously, and then lapping the pooled mix of spit and cum in her hands. She turned her head towards Hank, ashamed, looking for approval. He did not give her any friendly signs, he simply said:

- ”You have two weeks.” and both men left, Francisco uttering a last “Hasta luego hermosa!” as they were stepping through the bushes. 

Before leaving the park, Hanked looked back, he saw Eosi walking off at a quick pace with her ragged clothes, using both hands to try and keep them from falling apart. Hank felt better, not good, but better. For all his anger, all his resentment and the questions that were still haunting him, there was something satisfying about Eosi being in his life, and something right about him taking charge.

* - *

Eosi left a new note to Francisco a day early from the deadline, claiming she was ready. They met the next day at noon, in one of the small streets next to the Park. There were a few people and cars, but not too many. She opened the conversation in the usual pleasant way, not mentioning anything of their previous two encounters:

- “Hello Hank Sir, I have everything ready here.”

She opened a sheet of paper, covered in her perfect hand-writing. She went through the notes:

- “First, the car. I found one at the used car dealer on Johnson & 5th. The car is reserved in your name, it’s a SUV, old but in good shape, I had a mechanic check it. The dealer is friendly to ex-convicts and will accept all-cash transactions. You have the address, the model and VIN number of the car. He will also help with insurance through a local office. There is a premium but it is covered, I included the cash for the first 6 months.”

As Hank was not saying a word, she turned her head towards him to gauge his reaction. He nodded so she continued:

- “Now for the house. It’s pretty remote and the last few miles of the road are unpaved, but it should not be a problem. The owner is an old man who lives in one of the city’s mixed communities for the elderly. He wanted to sell, but I got him to accept renting, with an advance. He is okay with all-cash as well, he will take the rent himself so no background checks. He wants an advance though, so there are three months of rent included with the cash. Again all the contacts are here, the address of the house, the owner’s residence, it’s all written down. The comfort is very rudimentary, and the place has not been updated in a while, but that’s why the owner is willing to work with us. There will not be all the conveniences, there is running water, but the house is not connected to the electrical grid. There is a working generator though. I… this is the best I could do with the money I could get together, I hope this is satisfactory…”

Hank didn’t show any signs of satisfaction, but internally he was speechless. He had not expected her to come through, and this sounded very good, if it indeed was true. Eosi continued:

- “Here is the cash, Hank Sir. Mostly 100s and 50s.”

She handed him one of those small cheap backpacks. He finally spoke:

- “I’ll take that” 

Hank opened it and saw bundles of cash, neatly tied with labels. He would need to count later, he thought. He checked again for traffic and people in the street, but it was quiet mostly. He paused then spoke again:

- “I also have something for you.” He handed her a cheap cell phone. “This is a burner phone. I will call you if I want to talk to you. You don’t have my number and you don’t get to call me. If it rings, I expect you to pick-up immediately, at all times. Understood?”

- “Yes Hank Sir” she replied with enthusiasm. She smiled, she seemed touched by the gesture.

Hank left with the bag, slipping the note inside and started to make his way towards the construction site, for his daily shift. At night he counted the money and it was all there, at least matching what was written on the sheet of paper. He didn’t leave the money out of his sight until the weekend, the precious bag being his gateway to a better future.

On Saturday, Hank first took the bus to the used car dealership. The owner was a skinny guy with eccentric colorful clothes. He welcomed Hank and took him to the car. It was an old Ford Bronco in good shape, and all was exactly as Eosi had said. The dealer was friendly enough, chatty. When it was time to close the deal though, he paused staring at Hank and yelled:

- “Fucking shit, you’re the Groundskeeper Sadist!”

Hank was starting to sweat. So close.

- “And that girl that was here before, that’s the same girl as well, isn’t it. Holy shit!”

Hank was starting to lose it.

- “Man, you guys are a fucked-up duo!... Sign here man, Myself, I don’t judge…”

Hank nodded with relief, signed, shook the dealer’s hand, and left driving his truck. He realized how much risk he had taken by getting involved again with Eosi, but at the same time he felt a satisfaction that he had not felt for a very long time, maybe ever, a sense that things were “right”. 

Not wanting to waste any time, he drove directly to the house as he wanted to see it before signing, even though he didn’t have the key yet. A small inconvenience given his situation. He had to exit the city, drive a good thirty minutes on the highway and turn left. From then on a clean gravel road, no mud and manageable pot holes. The house was the fifth on the right, three miles in, not the very last one but far enough from any neighbors. 

The property was old, but Hank liked it immediately. There first was the small single story house as living quarters, and then an old barn across a gravel courtyard. Peaking through the window of the house, he could see the interior was really outdated and dusty. It didn’t matter, to him it spelled peace and quiet. The barn looked in good shape, and he could see inside through a small gap between the two doors. It was big enough to park three cars, with an attic covering a good two thirds of the surface, accessible by a ladder. Lots of old tools, construction wood, all looked good. He could even imagine Eosi tied up to one of the large wooden posts supporting the roof. He wondered if the punishment-enthusiast Eosi had shared that same thought when she first visited this place. 

The deal was not yet signed though, so he drove back towards the city, to the elderly residence and found his way to his future landlord. The old man was reading a book in his small room. He looked to Hank like he was made from rough stock, but worn by time. He introduced himself as John, and the two men quickly hit it off. Shortly after, all was sorted out. As Hank was leaving, the man asked him:

- “The girl who set this up, who is she to you?”

- “She’s somebody who owes me.” Hank simply answered.

- “Oh… I see, she was very convincing, you know,” with a wink, before going back to his book.

Hank now had the keys and the lease. It was good on all fronts, just one more thing to do. Back at the halfway house, he packed what little clothes he possessed. He then gave a call to his parole officer, and explained that he was checking out. The officer was upset, and asked several times where he got the money. Hank suspected he wanted to take kickbacks on this as well. 

For explanation, Hank pointed at the family of his old cell mate Mario, who helped him out back in prison. Mario was connected to the mob, and there was no way a bottom feeder like this officer would ever dare dig in this direction. And even if by some miracle he did, they would give him nothing. Before ending the conversion, the officer added:

- “By the way, I got a call from the local Police Department, concerned because they have a witness account of the Groundskeeper Sadist with a young Asian lady, who could be his old victim.”

Hank thought this whole city was a fucking pit of rats. Likely an old geezer living around their last meeting place.

- “I don’t know what they are talking about” Hank replied, “I’m well aware of the rules and I would never risk my freedom now.”

- “Yeah I know, the Police talked to your victim and verified, you better not get any ideas with her you scumbag.”

- “Yes sir, not a chance.” Hank concluded, and he hung-up.

Hank expected to have to be careful, but having a police investigation after a meeting of a few minutes in a small street was a lot more pressure than he had expected. Was he that high a priority for the Police? He felt a heavy weight on his shoulders, the system was really designed to crush him.

The positive news was that, if they indeed talked to her, Eosi had held up. On that note, he walked out of the halfway house, not even bothering to say goodbye to fat Jerry and his roommates, and he set to drive to his new house.

* - *

Settling in took a few days, fixing basic things left and right, getting gas for the generator, and a bottle of butane for the stove. The bed was old but much more comfortable than anything he had recently slept on, natural yarn stuffed with old feather pillows. The old man had left everything in good order, there was an old washer, noisy but working, plenty of tools as well. Hank had to admit Eosi had come through. Sure, it was nowhere near making-up for the hell he went through in prison, but it was still a significant step. He decided to call her, she picked up right away, as he had asked. Hank started:

- “The house and car are satisfactory. This gets you an evening with me, next Saturday, here at the house. You’ve earned the right to show me how badly you want to get back on my good side. There is still a long and hard road, believe me. You will plan it, it’s on you to convince me you meant it when you said you were ready to pay for what you’ve done.”

Hank paused for a moment, then added:

- “And you could start by fully coming clean. If you feel so bad, why haven’t I heard from you in the past eight years? Figure out how to do it, but I’m telling you, the bar is high. I will expect you after dark, and make sure you don’t draw attention. And one more thing, you’d better find a solid alibi in case the pigs ask questions.”

After waiting a moment to make sure he was done, Eosi answered:

- “Yes Hank Sir, I will not disappoint you.”

That Saturday, Eosi arrived around two hours after dark, she was in a different car, and was driving with her lights off, under the moonlight. Hank came out of the house to greet her, and directed her to get the car in the barn. He followed her, and closed the large doors behind them. She parked off to the side, in  what might have been an old horse stall a long time ago, stepped out, taking with her a black sports bag.

She wore plain clothes, a white t-shirt too large for her, sweatpants and sneakers. She looked good though, her face was done with a subtle but effective make-up. Her hair, of the purest black, was attached in a ponytail. She carefully dropped the bag at Hank’s feet, and immediately proceeded to undress. She first removed her t-shirt, revealing her skinny torso and small tits, still showing fading marks from his tight grip. She then undid her pants and shoes, and tidied everything up next to the bag. 

Her thin frame was something to behold. She was not anorexic, just slim and in good physical shape, with wiry and sculpted arms and legs. She was definitely more toned than during their first encounter. One more thing attracted Hank’s attention, this time she was fully shaven, and he could clearly see her lips in her thigh gap, a bit darker than the rest of her skin. Her skin tone had a more yellowish tint under the floodlights illuminating the barn, casting long shadows on all four sides, like a cross-hair trained on her from up above. 

She retrieved an envelope from the bag’s side pocket and handed it to Hank, before kneeling in front of him and tilting her face down towards the floor. Hank noticed how her flat breasts perked up in firm little mounds of flesh when she knelt and bent down. He opened the envelope and started reading:

“Very dear Hank Sir,

I am very grateful for the chance you are giving me tonight, I hope that I will not disappoint you. As you start reading this, I hope to be kneeling down in front of you, where I truly belong.

I have proposed a way for you to punish me that I hope will be to your satisfaction, you will find all the instruments required in the bag. I know it is not much, compared to what you had to go through, but maybe, if it pleases you, you will see it as a first small payment. I deserve much pain and punishment for what I did. Please do not worry about my well being, the most important thing for me is to fulfill your will. 

Before we start, I would like to answer your question, and recount what happened after my betrayal and your conviction. After I realized fully what I did to you, I tried all I could to overturn the sentence. I wrote a full confession to the judge, to the police, I even gave an interview to the press. However, I was not able to convince them. My family forced me into a mental hospital where I was institutionalized and diagnosed with Stockholm syndrome. The judge barred all communications to you. I wrote you many letters, first confessing and then begging for forgiveness. I even tried writing under a different name, but as I understood later, all the letters were seized. I should have done more and done better, but unfortunately I was not able to reach out to you, or to overturn your wrongful conviction. 

At the time of your parole hearing, I wrote five letters to the judge and she agreed to meet me. I had prepared a plea which I delivered. However, at the end, she told me that I was the living proof of the deep hold you had on me. She told me that, to protect my well being, she would block your release and make sure you would serve your full sentence.

For this and everything else I am so sorry. I am ready to pay, and to fully surrender to you if you would have me. I will gladly trade all that I have so you will feel better. I hope, in time, to be able to bring you fulfillment that will make up for the pain I have caused you. I love you.

I have brought several tools which I humbly propose you use to punish and hurt me…”

The letter continued on, but Hank paused. He was touched by the heartfelt confession and the declaration of love. And given Eosi’s behavior in the past few weeks, he couldn’t help but feel it rang true. 

However, the account of the overturned parole was like a stab in the heart. He had been a model prisoner, working and trustworthy. He should have been out at the five years mark, no questions. And the worst part was, the last year of his sentence had been a true nightmare. Without the protection of Mario, his mob-connected cellmate, he lived through a hell that was still keeping him awake at night. And he was finding out that Eosi was doubly to blame for it.

He read the rest of the note, finished it, turned his head to the girl kneeling before him, face down.

Hank’s dick had been getting hard from the time she undressed, but now reading about the pain and suffering she was ready to receive was sending him to the next level. His old man’s cock was pulsating in his underpants, like that of a hormonal teenager. All this excitement was entangled with a deep anger from her confession that was slowly overtaking his guts. He could feel his boiling blood rising up, inch by inch. His hand started to twitch again. Did he love her? Did he hate her? No matter which one, these feelings were so intense he felt he was going to literally explode.

Finally he took a swing with his right arm, and brought it down hitting her face at full force with the back of his hand, catching her by surprise. She went flying and landed on the old concrete floor, arms and legs flailing around. She promptly got up, and crawled back on her knees and returned to her kneeling position in front of him. The same hand came down again, from the opposite side, and it was the palm of his large muscular hand that hit her face. This time she braced for it, but the hit still forcefully tipped her down to the floor. She got back up on her knees, again, with tears coming down from her beautiful black eyes.

- “Tonight I will give you what you deserve.” Hank finally said, reaching for the black sports bag.