Title: The bird that flies.

Author: FreeWrite

Summary: One cold February evening 16 year old Emily Prentiss is walking home when she disappears. 3 years, 10 months, 8 days later she's found… broken.

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or any related characters, I'm borrowing for a while for entertainment and am making no money.

The two poems used throughout the story are by Maya Angelou. "The Caged Bird" in chapters 1 and 2, "Still I rise" in chapters 3 and 4.

AN: This is not a story I thought I'd write. I generally write angst, AU's and Crossovers but I've never actually gone to this level of darkness. I've spent months working on a different Emily AU and then one Friday night I sat down and wrote the first 6k words, by Sunday chapter 1 was finished. I finished the rest in 2 weeks… I'm going back to my regularly scheduled AU now…

Finally there are two versions of this story. A version here on fan fiction . net where I've cut out the most explicit content and the full NC-17 version at AO3 archiveofourown users / FreeWrite

**WARNING*** This story contains explicit rape. Please close now if you do not wish to read. Any flames received for the explicitness will be turned into mulch for my back garden.

Chapter 1: Caged

"What can I do for you?"

"Well, I guess you could tell me where to put my stuff"

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm supposed to start here today at the BAU"

"There's been a mistake… I didn't approve this transfer, Agent Prentiss. I'm sorry for the confusion but you've been misinformed"

Gideon stared at the brunette standing in the door to Hotch's office wondering what was so familiar about her. Blinking and shaking his head he turned away and headed for the conference room, he'd worry about it later.

February 2nd 1987

Sometime in between getting on the bus and getting off two blocks from the library a bitterly cold wind had whipped up and cut through her winter coat freezing her to the bone.

Reaching the doors she shrugged the coat off and stood in the warmth for a few moments letting it remove the worst of the chill from her body before she headed for the reference section to work on her essay for English literature.

It wasn't long before she was lost in the world of words…

When she finally crawled out of the pall Maya Angelou drew over her it was dark. With a sigh she packs away her books and heads for the door.

The wind is worse so she tucks her head down and walks the two blocks back to her bus stop still trying to work out if she is a free bird or a caged bird…

She doesn't hear the footsteps in the snow behind her, she doesn't see the shadow cross her path…

She doesn't make it to the bus stop.

It would be years before Emily Prentiss once again walked free.

A free bird leaps

on the back of the wind

and floats downstream

till the current ends

and dips his wing

in the orange sun rays

and dares to claim the sky.

2006

It was the eyes Gideon couldn't stop thinking about. There was a steel and agedness he'd seen before… so many times on so many strangers but these were familiar.

They'd briefed the case, two competing killers… in St Louis.

"What was her name?" he finally asked Hotch halfway through the flight.

"The agent…? Prentiss… Emily Prentiss"

He knew that name as well.

February 1987

The room she woke in was warm and dark. When they finally get her talking about her time in captivity she could never explain how she knew she wasn't alone when she woke.

"I could feel something" is the only thing she can say.

Blinking once… twice… three times against the fuzziness she finally manages to lift her head. She can't see him yet but she knows… she knows he's there watching her.

Looking down she is lying on a soft bed covered in a woollen blanket. Her jacket, sweater and shoes have been removed.

Her hands and legs are free so she pushes herself upright slightly to try and get a better look around, she doesn't get a chance before he is there… sitting on the bed beside her.

She is surprised when his touch is gentle and his voice is soft.

"You're perfect…"

She tries not to flinch away at his undisguised lust. He must have a measure of self control because he only presses a gentle kiss to her lips before he leaves the room.

She doesn't yell, scream, fight or try to follow him. Survival protocol ingrained in her as the child of a diplomat, don't fight or argue with them, don't try to bargain, or barter for your freedom. Hold tight, do what you have to do to stay alive and wait for rescue.

The door closes silently and she doesn't hear the bolts sliding home.

Looking around the room she can see high windows letting in dull winter moonlight, a small kitchenette with an oven, fridge and sink sits to one side. Standing on wobbly legs she makes her way over to a door, opening it reveals a shower and toilet. The taps have both hot and cold water, the fridge is stocked with fresh groceries. Dragging the lone chair over to the wall she can just reach the window when she stands on it, tapping lightly she discovers the glass is bullet proof.

She remembers a marine explaining how laminated glass didn't just stop bullets but sound as well, something about vibrations.

Pulling a glass out of the cabinet she fills it up from the tap, drinks it and two more before going back to the bed and lying down.

It doesn't take long for a tear to make its way down her face… it is quickly joined by another and another.

"I want my mom…" Emily Prentiss whispers to an empty room.

November 2006

He finally remembers as he's walking down the stairs and as his feet hit the tarmac he pulls out his cellphone and dials Garcia.

"I need you to dig up an old case file for me…"

"Of course Sir." the technical analyst chirps

"90 or 91 lead agent was David Rossi, the UnSub took teenage girls from DC, Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania and Virginia about 10 years, all 16, caucasian brunettes. I don't remember his name but he was caught attempting to grab a girl in Wilmington."

"90 and 91 is on the system, so give me a mo… Damien Lucas Knight…?"

"That's him, just send it to me… it's not related to the case."

1987

She thinks it's been weeks… it's hard to tell. He turns up regularly but with no set schedule, sometimes it's day sometimes it's night and sometimes she's been in the dark for so long she forgets the colour of the sky.

With nothing to do and no way to truly keep track of time she quickly starts to look forward to his visits.

He has control of every aspect of her existence, food, water, heat, light, clothes…

The first few times he visited he didn't actually speak to her, she would wake to find him watching. The one day he brought the complete works of Shakespeare and reads the sonnets out loud to her before kissing her again.

From fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauty's rose might never die,

The kisses become more insistent with each visit, she never reciprocates nor does she fight him. The day he finishes the 15th sonnet his hand reaches out to her waist and rests there for a moment before sliding up her ribcage to rest on her breast.

This time she pulls back and shakes her head. Despite his pretty words and gentleness she knows she is his prisoner and she doesn't want to give him this. She gave it away too easily and freely before and she won't do that again.

"No"

She knows she's made a mistake when a flash of rage comes across his face as he pushes her back roughly before storming out of the room.

The windows are covered, the lights turned out and the heat turned off.

She huddles under the blanket and manages to stave off the worst of the shivers. With nothing else to do in the dark she drifts off to sleep.

When she wakes up the room is warm again, the lights are back on and she's not alone in the bed.

He is lying next to her, naked and aroused.

It takes her another moment to realise he's managed to remove her clothes without waking her up.

She's on her back naked and exposed… he's on his side, touching her… When she lifts her hands to try and push him away he smirks at her horror upon realising they're cuffed together. It doesn't stop her from trying to get away but he is bigger and stronger than she is and it only takes him a moment to move her shackled hands and attach the chain to a hook on the head board.

She squirms and bucks to try and push him away, his grin is feral as he straddles her thighs.

The kind, gentle act is all gone and his true nature shines through as his hands roughly grab her, fingers pinching and twisting. Her face burns in humiliation as she feels the beginning of arousal between her own legs.

"Everything in this room is mine" he whispers "you are mine, your body is here for my pleasure. I will take you when I want you how I want you"

"No" she shakes her head at him.

"You will call me Sir and you will obey me without question." he states ignoring her refusal, some girls accepted this fact faster than others.

"No"

"If you do not you will be punished"

Sir shuffles down to kneel between her legs, she squirms again and tries to close her thighs. Her first lesson in punishment is a hand slapping down hard on her chest forcing her to squeal at the sudden stinging pain. One large hand holds a thigh while the other starts to probe and touch feeling the slight wetness his earlier touching had brought.

He slides finger up and down a few times before pushing a single digit inside her, she is tight and hot but not as wet as he wants. Leaning down he spits on her before rubbing lightly to try and bring more lubrication from her body. Her body quickly responds to the stimulation, he is slow and methodical. After a few quick strokes he either decides she's prepared enough or is too aroused to care and pulls his hand away and finally looks back up at her face grinning at the tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Without another word he lines himself up and pushes inside.

He doesn't give her time to adjust.

Even her first time wasn't as painful of this, despite the preparation her body wasn't ready for him.

"Stop… it hurts… please…" she sobs.

He ignores her and continues until he cums. Without another word he pulls out and rolls off her walking out of the room.

She is left naked, hurting, tied to the bed under too bright lights.

She hears the door close then the lights flicker off and the air starts to cool.

He's turned off the heat again.

She quickly starts to shiver, there isn't even a blanket left on the bed she can try to cover herself with.

Sir doesn't leave her like this for long but her entire body is trembling violently when the lights flicker back on forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut against the brightness. Not long later warmth starts to penetrate the air, he doesn't come back straight away. The shivering has subsided when the door opens and he comes back in, naked and partially aroused.

He has a bag in hand and climbs onto the bed straddling her belly, he takes a moment to play with her breasts before reaching into the bag and pulling out a silk scarf and using it to cover her eyes.

"You did not obey, you told me to stop. Remember your body is mine to do with as I please, when I please and how I please. I'll go easy on the punishment this time."

Rising on his knees he rolled her body so she's on her stomach. Reaching into the bag he pulled out two soft leather wrist cuffs quickly locking them in place with padlocks and then he pulled out two lengths of rope.

Feeding the rope under her, he released one hand from the metal cuffs and brought it down so her forearm was resting on her back, arms having gone numb long before she couldn't fight him. Tying one end of rope to the cuff he repeated the action on the other before feeding the ends around her body again and tying them off ensuring her arms were completely immobilised.

"The next time I leave the room I will be turning off the heat again. How long it's off is up to you, every time you disobey me or tell me to stop is five minutes without heat. Do you understand?"

She didn't respond, just lay there trying to comprehend what was happening to her.

At her silence he stands and bring a hand down hard on her backside.

"That's 5 minutes… do you understand?"

She swallows past the pain and nods her head "Yes"

He bring his hand down again.

"10 minutes, yes what?"

It takes her moment to work out what he wants to hear.

"Yes Sir."

"Good girl" his hand rubs over her backside.

He steps back and just watches her for a moment. Lips slightly parted, body trembling in fear and pain the black rope stark against her pale skin.

He'd been searching for years for perfection, all the girls before her and none of them quite measured up to fantasy. They'd screamed and fought him from the very first moment, but she hadn't… she'd wanted to… he could see the fight in her eyes but something had stopped her. He wondered how long this one would survive.

"I shall call you Alla, for you are my other"

He watched her body shake at his declaration.

Grasping her shoulders he pulled her into a standing position and lead her to the bathroom. Confusion crossed her face as he pushed her down onto the toilet.

"I don't want you urinating on anything, go now." he instructed.

The flush of embarrassment started low on her chest and made it's way up to her face. He grinned as she fought with herself on whether to go or not but after several seconds her body relaxed and the sound of urine hitting water echoed through. When it stopped he pulled off a few sheets of toilet paper and wiped her down, after quickly washing his hands he stood her in the middle of the play room while he prepared for the next task.

This was one of his favourite parts.

She jumped and squeaked in fright when he turned on the clippers. Ever so slowly he clipped away at her pubic hair until there was only a light smattering along her labia left. Replacing the electric clippers with the razor he just as carefully removed that hair as well. Leaning back he looked at his work and smiled at the arousal he could see and smell just from his touch, releasing one leg from the stirrups he shaved it and repeated with the other.

"That's much better… remember your body is mine to do with as I please, when I please and how I please." looking up he noticed for the first time her bottom lip trembling and the silk covering her eyes had darkened in patches with her tears. As with the other girls he snapped a photo of her for his journal.

Untying her he lead her back to the bedroom and pushed her face onto the bed. Lifting her by the hips he nudged her knees apart and pushed into her. Bringing his hands to her hips and digging his fingers in to hold her steady while he fucked her hard and fast. This time she didn't try to get away or beg him to stop but her pained sobs told him she wanted to. He likes hearing them cry.

Pushing her away he left her crying on the bed before leaving the room and turning off the heat as he closed the door behind him.

He quickly showered and redressed, turned her heat back on and left the house leaving 16 year old Emily Prentiss tied up and naked in his basement.

He took his time doing the groceries, met a friend for a drink and returned to the house four hours later.

When he entered the basement room she was sound asleep, injecting her with a light sedative, he removes the ropes and blindfold but leaves the cuffs in place. He masturbates until he shoots cum on her face.

He gathered up all items of clothing, blankets and towels, stocked up the fridge and left the room bolting the door behind him. The panel outside the room let him block out the windows and turn on a single dull lamp, when she woke she would have no idea how much time had passed, nor would she be able to track any time while he was gone.

Over the next week he didn't go back into the room while she was awake, he would enter quietly and sedate her and leave her to wake up hours later still alone but with cum drying on her body.

When he decided she was ready he entered to find her curled up in a ball on the bed. She didn't react to his presence… just lay there staring at the wall.

"When I enter the room I expect you to kneel in the centre with your eyes on the floor."

She slowly pushed herself off the bed and silently knelt at his feet.

He had the next 3 days off work and was looking forward to spending time with her.

"Good girl" he ran his hands over the top of her head.

"Stand" she didn't hesitate to follow his command.

He raked his eyes over her body and noted the stubble of hair that had grown back. Pulling the red silk scarf out he wrapped it tightly around her eyes and led her into the play room. She doesn't fight him…

He started with her underarms, gently shaving them before restraining her like he had the last time forearms to back, legs in stirrups.

He didn't need the electric clippers this time just the hand razor and once he was done he pushed two fingers into her smiling at the wetness he found there.

Releasing her from the chair he led her back to the bed room and pushed her back down onto her knees while he stripped down. Once he was naked he stood so the tip of his penis was brushing against her lips.

"I want you to suck me until I tell you to stop. If I cum in your mouth you do not spit it out, you do not swallow, you wait until I give you an instruction. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir." her voice was hoarse from disuse but she obeyed immediately and took him in her mouth. She was hesitant at first, unsure of exactly what to do but followed his lead growing more confident as he responded positively.

"Good girl and remember your body is mine to do with as I please, when I please and how I please."

He pushed her down onto the floor and was inside her before she could take a breath, when he came he pulled out and came all over her belly and breasts.

He left her there on the floor tied up covered in sweat and semen, walking out of the basement he showered and went to bed.

The next morning he walked into the room and watch her struggle upright to kneel. He took her to the bathroom once again forcing her again to relieve herself in front of him and relying on him to wipe her.

He couldn't wait to see her hanging from the ceiling by the wrists, blindfolded and gagged as he flogged her.

This time he sat up on the bed and made her straddle his lap so she could feel him get aroused as he played with her body.

He started by kissing her lips, pushing his tongue inside her mouth as his hands came up to her chest.

He worked his mouth down her neck biting, sucking and licking her… marking her pale skin. Playing with her until they were both aroused.

He was training her body to respond to pleasure and pain the same way. He was training her mind to submit to him and crave his presence.

He didn't need his fingers to know her body was ready enough for him he could feel her cum mixing with his. Dropping his hands to her hips he pulled her down onto him and held her in place. He watched her face for a moment and nearly laughed as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit down against the invasion that still hurt but wasn't quite as painful as it had been.

"Tell me something Alla… have you ever orgasmed?"

She tilted her head to the side slightly as she considered his question. Lips parted as she breathes heavily through the pain.

"I don't know Sir… I don't think I have."

He pushed her hips up and pulled them back down slowly, making sure she is fully seated on him.

Running his hands up her side he cupped her breasts "Who's breasts are these?"

She hesitates only a heartbeat before answering "Yours sir." her bottom lip is trembling.

He grabs her hips and forcing her up and down again.

"Is this body mine to do whatever I want with"

"Yes Sir" her tears finally spill over soaking the silk and leaking out the bottom of the blindfold… he knows he's broken her.

"It seems I've done all the work so far… I want to lie here and enjoy you fucking me slowly."

This would become one his favourite positions with her. Bound, blindfolded, forced to ride him slowly.

"Yes Sir."

Her movements are jerky at first as she has nothing to balance herself against until she works out how to use her thighs and hips and hits a slow and steady rhythm.

She rides him until he cums.

This time he doesn't pull out of her straight away. His hands hold her in place.

"Would you like to orgasm?" she senses immediately that this is a trick question. He has been reinforcing for weeks that she has no choices, no control, to ask if she wants something now goes against everything else he has done.

"Only if Sir wants me to" her words are accompanied by a sob… she play's it safe, and gives the decision back to him.

"Maybe one day you'll earn one as a reward" he muses as he imagines how he would do it.

None of the previous girls ever answered that question correctly.

For now he reaches around her and undoes the rope, she stays where she is waiting for permission or direction. She's learned fast, what Sir will never know is for years she had been left searching for companionship and attention. He was reaping the benefits of a father who only turned up when he needed something and a mother who loved her but was constantly being pulled away by duty, too few friends and no stability, she had submitted to him so quickly because he returned to her, he paid attention to her. She was starting to believe Sir cared for her simply because he came back.

He pulls her down to rest against his chest and is surprised when she relaxes against him with a happy sigh at the gentle human contact.

When he enters her room two weeks later she is kneeling waiting for him, there is something different about her. She's hunched over hiding her face behind her hair trembling slightly, the modesty he'd trained out of her back. Placing the groceries on the bench he studies her trying to work out what is wrong when he spies a light pink patch on the bedsheet. Pulling her into a standing position he watches the juncture of her thighs and waits, it doesn't take more than a minute for blood to start trickling down her legs. He'd taken away her clothes and sanitary products three weeks before and had been waiting for this.

He'd purposefully forced her to urinate and defecate in front of him multiple times. Three days earlier she'd claimed she didn't need to urinate so he tied her up in the play room and taught her to urinate when instructed to.

Ignoring the blood he sits down on the chair and orders her to give him a blow job. After he comes in her mouth he leaves her kneeling for a few minutes, blood dripping out of her and down onto the floor, mouth full of semen. She holds it waiting for his instruction. Eventually he tells her to swallow.

He moves on to orgasm denial, teaching her body to respond precisely the way he wants it to.

He starts to bring her books to read along with a journal, rewards for obeying. He reads recent entries out loud wanting to prove that not even her thoughts are her own.

He smiles when he checks the date and realises it's been five weeks since her period. She has no concept of time, she hasn't worked out he only raises the blinds every second or third day and his work schedule is 6 day's on 3 day's off with shifts that rotate every month. Sometimes he is with her at night, sometimes morning and sometimes he leaves her alone in the dark for 2 or 3 days at a time. Constantly reinforcing his absolute control over her.

He waits another two weeks before doing a home pregnancy test, he doesn't tell her, just leaves her tied up one night and rigs a bowl to the toilet to dip the test into when he takes her to urinate the next morning.

He stops trying new things when the test comes back positive. He still plays with her body, he notices her hips have widened slightly, her breasts are bigger and more sensitive.

She doesn't seem to notice either of these changes, or if she does she doesn't bring them up with him. She knows it's not allowed. He can tell she's tired and nauseous, but she knows not to complain.

When she's 14 weeks along she blushes and turns her face away from him when he rubs a hand over the slight swell of her lower belly. She's stretched out on her back, arms tied above her head legs up in stirrups as he shaves her, he doesn't comment just completes his work in silence.

When he's done he puts the razor aside but stays where he is and plays with her, enjoying the sight of her breath hitching as she relaxes into the touch. She's now equating any touch he gives her as affection.

He can see her heading to orgasm so pulls his hand away and waits her her to calm down.

Once he knows she's not going to cum he stands, steps closer and pushes inside her. She no longer finds his fucking painful and will take him in any position he demands.

Once he's deep inside her he rests a hand on the baby bump.

"Do you know what this is?"

Her eyes widen slightly but she answers him straight away "Yes Sir"

"Do you want a baby?"

"If Sir wants me to have one." she may have learned to control her words and body but those expressive dark brown eyes give away her every feeling and her desire is clear.

"I would've used contraception if I didn't want to breed you."

He loved the control he had over her, Alla had taken to her new life in ways he had never imagined. Since that first punishment she hadn't questioned him once.

Seeing her belly swell out excited him more than he expected. He'd done that to her… she didn't question why he wanted it, just accepted his decision. He didn't want a child, he wanted the proof of his absolute control.

As she gains weight she starts to get shy around him again, embarrassed by the stretch marks and changes to her body. He knows she wants her clothes back, he asks her if she knows why he took them away. She shakes her head, he tells her it's simply easier to fuck her whenever he wants if he doesn't have to worry about clothes.

He came in one day to find her curled up on her side fast asleep. At 30 weeks no matter how much she tried she couldn't keep up with his needs anymore. He didn't blame her and still fucked her whether she had the energy or not but he needed the release she couldn't provide.

It would be worse after the birth, it would be weeks before her body healed enough for his use. He shakes her awake and makes her ride him.

The next week he brought a cradle into her room along with diapers, blankets and clothes… all for it.

"Thank you Sir" she whispered and runs a hand over a tiny while onesie.

Her contractions start early one morning, they're mild and irregular when he comes down to check on her so she doesn't mention it either before or after she gives him a blow job.

Not long after he leaves they become regular and strong enough for her to check the instructions he'd left her just in case.

Hours pass as she paces, breathing through the pain. She wants Sir, but there's no way to contact him.

She can count to 300 in between contractions when she feels gush a fluid.

Things seem to speed up exponentially after her water breaks. All too soon and with no sign of Sir her body is attempting to push, deciding to follow her instincts she braces her back against the wall and bares down to push. There's a burning sensation and the feel of something leaving her body, reaching down she feel's the head between her thighs. Holding it as tightly as she dares she pushes again and again and again until the baby is free of her body.

She pulls the tiny blue body to her chest as her legs give out and runs a gentle fingers down it's face clearing the gunk from it's nose and mouth, once the airway is clear the baby takes a hitching breath before letting out a weak cry.

"I've got you…" she whispers "Momma's got you"

"Let it nurse" Sir's voice echo's over from the door way. He'd arrived just in time to see her deliver the head. He wished he had his camera… she's crumbled on the floor clutching the infant, legs open showing the cord running out of her connecting them together.

She looks up startled before nodding and looking back down at the baby. Shuffling it in her arms she lifts her breast and places her nipple against it's lips, with no fuss or hesitation it's lips open and latch on suckling straight away.

"It will help with the afterbirth" He looks over them dispassionately before scooping her up off the floor and moving them to the bed. Going back upstairs he returns within minutes, he quickly clamps and cuts the cord then sits back and waits for the afterbirth. Once it's delivered he wraps it in a plastic bag and before leaving her and it alone.

"Once it's finished eating take it into the shower with you to wash then sleep. It'll cry when it needs something."

That night he double checks the soundproofing on her room door then goes out and grabs another girl.

But a bird that stalks

down his narrow cage

can seldom see through

his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and

his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing.

2006

They're back in the hotel late that night before Gideon gets a chance to look at the case file. After reading it through he picks up the phone and calls David Rossi.

It had been one of Dave's cases, Elizabeth Prentiss had turned up at their bunker in the Hoover building 3 months after her daughters disappearance. The police believed she'd run away and closed the case, Elizabeth was adamant her daughter wouldn't do that.

Dave had sat with the distraught mother and agreed to have a look at the case.

The more digging he did the less it looked like the teen had run away. She had good grades, no involvement in drugs or alcohol, the last person to see her alive had been a librarian. In her statement she'd said the teen stopped in twice a week was quiet, respectful and worked hard.

He found a girl in Baltimore, she could have been a sister to Emily Prentiss go missing under similar circumstances in 82, another from Richmond in 84, a third from Dover in 85 and finally Emily in 87 from Georgetown.

They were low risk girls who's hair, eyes and skin tone all matched.

Bodies had never been found, no one ever came forward and reported having seen them alive.

He had a lot… at the same time he had nothing.

15 months after Emily Prentiss went missing a police report from Bethesda was sent to him.

A 16 year old who matched their victimology had gone missing 8 weeks before while on her way home from volunteering at a pet shelter. Her supervisor reported she left on time but she never arrived home.

Every three months he'd called Elizabeth Prentiss to assure her he hadn't given up. At this point she didn't expect a miracle, she just wanted answers.

1988

She'd called her baby boy Dashiell.

Sir had visited to check on them every now and then but not once had he demanded her body. Sir didn't interact with the baby other than to check his growth and development.

When the door opens, she places the sleeping baby in the cradle and kneel's in the middle of the room. It's been 6 weeks since the birth, the girl he'd grabbed had lasted up until the night before, he'd buried her in the back yard with the others and went to get Alla.

Her breast are bigger than ever from nursing the baby, her belly is nearly flat again.

Using his favourite black silk rope he winds it around her body, knots uncomfortably pressing against her ribs and breasts. She's leaking before he even finishes… he pushes her over to the St Andrews cross, attaching first one hand then the other, pulling the ropes tight lifts her feet off the floor putting more pressure on her body.

He ties her legs at the thighs and calves so her knees are slightly bent and turned out leaving her wide open for him, he steps back and looks her over, nearly perfect. He adds more rope, securing her hips, ribs and shoulders tightly so she can't move her body at all.

He's not just going to give her her first orgasm he's going to make her scream.

She gasps when he runs his hands over her sensitive breasts, massaging them, riveted by the milk dribbling out of her nipples.

This was something he'd only ever imagined.

He remembers reading somewhere in nursing school that the mothers body will generally make enough milk to keep up with the babies demand and the more milk they produce the bigger their breasts get. He wonders if he pumps her regularly in between feeding the baby if this will happen and if it does how big can he make those gorgeous things.

She's already wet when he shoves his hand between her legs.

"How do you get so wet for me so quickly Alla?" he asks

"I know Sir likes it when I'm wet so I start thinking about you when I hear you come in to make sure I'm ready for you."

"You are a fantastic little slut." he's never called her that before "you're my slut aren't you Alla?"

"Yes Sir."

She starts to pant as he drives her towards orgasm but before she can get there he pulls away and waits for her to calm down and her arousal to start subsiding. He steps back up to her and repeats the process until she is so wet arousal is dripping down the inside of her thighs.

He hadn't planned on fucking her until after making her body orgasm for the first time but seeing her strung up like that after so long without her he can't stop himself from shoving himself deep inside. Despite her arousal he can tell she's in pain, perhaps not fully healed from the birth but he's never before cared if she's in pain and he's not going to start now.

He goes and picks up the magic wand.

"Do you ever touch yourself here?" he strokes between her legs.

"No Sir." her breath hitches

"Why not?"

"It's not mine to touch, it belongs to Sir."

He flicks the wand onto its lowest setting and pushes it between her legs. He knows right now she won't be able to stop an orgasm, she'll eventually learn.

This is more direct stimulation than she's ever experienced and before long she panting loudly. Her head moves back and forth and fists clench as her body reacts in ways she's never experienced, the ropes dig deep as her hips attempt to buck but she's tied in too tightly. When she does cum it's not with a scream but with a sobbing moan.

Pulling the wand away he switches it off and grins.

"That was an orgasm… would you like another?"

"Only if Sir wants to give me another."

He switches the wand back on, this time on the highest setting and shoves it between her legs. She squeals in shock when it touches the already sensitive flesh. She takes the second orgasm with a louder groan than the first, third has her in tears and the fourth finally draws the longed for scream out of her.

She's sobbing, and sweating and in pain and he's aroused again dropping the wand he fucks her once more before letting her down. She crumbles to the floor exhausted and unable to get up, he hauls her over his shoulder and takes her back to the bedroom leaving her barely conscious in bed the body ropes still in place.

The baby had slept through it all.

The next day off work he has she's feeding the baby when he comes into her room. She kneels with him still suckling away oblivious to the fact his father is a monster and his mother is a prisoner.

Sir waits until the baby is finished eating and directs her to lay him in the cradle before taking her into the play room.

He knows the baby is still eating every few hours so sets the timer on his watch.

He binds her up on the cross again in the same position as the last time but without the body ropes. Once she's completely immobilised he blind folds and gags her.

He's never explained what he's going to do to her in the past and he's not going to start now. Alla is completely submissive to him in every aspect of her life, she's no longer capable of making a decision for herself.

Having just fed the baby her breasts aren't full enough to leak, he wonders how many times he'll have to do this to get the result he wants.

Attaching the pump to her breast she gasps at the first pull against her breast and attempts to squirm as she feels the milk exiting her body. She doesn't like this… she needs to feed the baby. The first few pulls brings watery fore milk but it quickly changes to thick creamy hind milk, he's surprised by just how much he manages to draw from her body but after close to 30 minutes the bottle is nearly full and there is next to nothing coming out. Detaching the pump he examines both breasts noting how much the left has deflated now he's emptied it.

Changing the bottle out he repeats it with the right breast.

As a test once her right breast is empty he checks the left to see if her body has started to replace it but very little is available.

He fucks her slowly while waiting.

45 minutes later a tell tale drop of milk appears at the nipple.

He empties her two more times before the timer goes off. She should have just enough milk to feed the baby…

He lets her down, takes her back to the bedroom to feed the baby. As he latches on he notices her eyes drifting to the bathroom. When the baby is fed and back asleep in the cradle he takes her to the bathroom and watches as she settles herself on the toilet, she's so used to it that she doesn't even need to try before she's urinating.

When they return to the playroom he doesn't bother with the intricacy of the cross, instead straps her into the stirrup chair and lay's her back.

He keeps at it, emptying her as fast as her body is making the milk, sending her to feed the baby every fours hours. He doesn't store any of the extracted milk just dumps it down the sink.

After 15 hours her nipples are swollen, bruised and chafed from the constant suction against them and she's crying from the pain.

He sends her to bed, and set's his alarm for 8 hours. The next morning he returns and finds the idea of having to repeat it all over again boring.

As much as he likes hearing her cry out in pain there are other ways that are more satisfying. He starts up the orgasm denial again, pushing her to the brink time and time again but never letting her cum.

"You do not cum without permission" he repeats over and over again.

When he's sure she has enough control he steps it up a notch and decides to introduce her to the paddle.

"Every strike you receive is a gift. You are to count them out and thank me for each one. Do you understand."

"Yes Sir."

He brings the paddle down as hard as he can on crease between her left buttock and thigh eliciting a pained cry from her. She swallows and quickly follows his instructions.

"One, thank you Sir."

He brings the second strike down on the exact same spot just as hard,

"Two, thank you Sir."

As she's thanking him for the third strike he strokes between her legs. By the time he reaches ten the pleasure and pain have mixed together so much that if it was allowed she would be begging him for release. Instead he walks around to her face and fucks her mouth until he comes. He leaves her with a mouth full of his semen not instructing her to either spit or swallow.

He goes upstairs to shower and dress for work, retuning 30 minutes later.

"Open your mouth" he instructs, she complies showing his semen stilling sitting on her tongue.

"Good girl, swallow" she obeys instantly. Releasing her from the stocks she stands and lets him guide her back to her bedroom.

She checks on the baby and seeing him still sound asleep she showers.

She'd been given a towel not long after Dashiell was born but Sir had told her long ago she didn't need clothes and she'd accepted this long before, after a year of being without clothes her modesty is non existent.

She'd just finished drying off when the baby started crying to be fed her body reacting immediately looking down she sighed as milk leaked out of her body. This was a constant state these days.

She lay in bed with Dashiell, telling him stories as she fed him. Talking about things she'd never dared voice in her journal.

She told him about living all over the world, seeing lakes, rivers, oceans, grand castles, majestic mountains, frozen tundra's and burning deserts.

She spoke to him in Italian, Arabic and French.

Once he was full and burped she sat against the headboard and he looked up at her and smiled.

He followed the same process every day for the next month.

He increases the number of strikes every day.

She's forgotten the sound of her mothers voice and the feel of disappointment every time her father didn't show up when promised. She knows there was a friend who loved and helped her through something but she can't remember his name.

Her world is Sir and Dashiell.

She doesn't realise it but her second child is conceived the day Dashiell starts walking… on the second anniversary of the day he snatched her off a dark and windy street.

The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom.

2006

The file Gideon gets has all the names redacted to protect not just the surviving victims but the children who came out of that basement with Emily. If he remembers correctly the federal prosecutor in the case against Knight put together a 40 page argument on why Emily Prentiss' right to privacy out weighed the publics right to know.

Dave has the only copy of the full file but now he has the basics Gideon's memory is filling in the blanks.

He and Katie had dragged Dave out to a bar three months after Emily Prentiss was found, Katie was adamant the young woman would never truly recover. Never be able to get her GED, go to college or hold down a job, she was simply too damaged. Gideon agreed with her but Dave stubbornly refused to believe them. Emily was strong, she'd prove them all wrong.

On the way home from St Louis he sits across from Hotch and slides the file over.

"Did Dave ever tell you about the final straw for his second marriage?"

He hands over the redacted victim statement that Dave spent nearly a year getting.

"Everyone but Dave and her mother believed she was a run away"

1990

Dashiell is walking and talking in partial sentences when she gives birth a second time. Her toddler son watching with wide and fearful eyes from the crib that replaced the cradle, Sir arrives halfway through and watches from his chair, camera in hand. He get's the photos he wants and then leaves.

When he finally returns the afterbirth has come, the cord cut, baby fed and both of them cleaned up and sleeping. He casts a professional nurses eye over the baby, checks Alla over for tearing and bleeding and then leaves.

After work he drives the two hours from Bethesda to Harrisburg Pennsylvania and snatches a high school volleyball player he'd been watching.

16, pale, brunette, brown eyes.

The soundproofing around Alla's room is still perfect. They can never hear a baby crying and she can't hear the screams of a girl brought in to replace her while she was recovering from the birth.

Much like Dashiell, Cora is a quiet and content baby. She feeds easily and sleeps contentedly.

6 weeks pass and Sir comes back for her.

The new girl lasted all the way through, she hadn't disobeyed she just wasn't needed anymore. He killed her and buried her.

Wanting to see how far he could push her he leaves her tied up one day and the door between her room and the play room open. She can hear the baby and Dashiell crying but doesn't make a noise knowing she doesn't want them to hear her crying or screaming.

The 8 week old baby is getting hungrier and hungrier but he doesn't let her feed it.

He finally gets to hear her beg again, her mothers instinct taking over her training. "Please let me feed her… please…"

He leans forward grabs a fist full of hair, yanks it back and whispers in her ear… she nods her agreement terrified of the promise he just made and suffers in fearful silence for another hour.

She quickly adjusts to the chastity belt again and caring for 2 children.

Cora is rolling over and babbling when he starts working suspension into his time with her, she is hanging by the wrists and ankles when he finally lets her orgasm again.

No matter what he's done to her body she's never lost control. He's been constantly stimulating her for nearly 2 hours when he shoves four fingers inside her and whispers.

"Cum now."

The reaction is instant, her inner muscles pulse and hips buck hard as she cries out. Tears streaming down her face, she's barely finished when he pulls his hand out and shoves his cock in groaning at the feel of her body pulsing around his. When he's close he demands another orgasm from her.

"Cum now."

She does just as his own hits.

When he pulls out she's bleeding.

2006

It's a long and hard read but Hotch gets through the statement before they land back in Virginia.

"Why did you give me this?" Hotch knows Gideon doesn't do anything without reason.

"The girl who gave that statement 15 years ago… where do you think she is now?"

Hotch sighs and considers what he read "I wouldn't be surprised if she never went back to school, her life has probably been minimum wage jobs, a series of abusive relationships, alcoholism and or drug use. It also wouldn't surprise me if the kids are in and out of foster care. Probable multiple instances of self-harm and suicide attempts. I hate to say it but this girl was doomed the moment Knight grabbed her."

"That's what I expected at the time… I said as much to her mother" Gideon smiles, glad he and Katie aren't the only ones proved wrong "I made a couple of calls and found out she got her GED and was accepted into Georgetown. Graduated in 3 years, the kids are happy and healthy, the boys a freshman at Yale and the girls in High School. Smart, well adjusted kids. She entered the FBI Academy and four days ago stood inside your office thinking she was transferring into the unit that had been led by a man who never gave up on her."

Gideon paused as Hotch processed what he was hearing. After five seconds he spoke again "Now letting her into the unit could be an unmitigated disaster or we could have the greatest victims advocate and interviewer possible in this unit, her experience and perspective impossible to get elsewhere. She has been proving people wrong for 20 years, her own father, the detectives who declared her a runaway, myself and Katie who thought she was just too damaged and most importantly Damien Lucas Knight who was adamant she would never turn on him until the day she testified at his trial and she stared him down and told her story."

1990

She felt absolutely wretched, she'd been dizzy and nauseous for a while but it was getting worse with each passing day. When she had managed to eat she'd quickly thrown it all back up.

When Sir arrived she'd put Dashiell and Cora in the crib and knelt in the middle of the floor. When he pulled her up to her feet she couldn't stop the vomit that erupted all over both of them.

For the first time ever he slapped her face. The strike and movement is too much and she blacks out.

He walks out of the room, leaving her unconscious in a puddle of her own vomit.

Dashiell and Cora cry but she doesn't stir.

Sir showers and then leaves the house and makes the 2 hour drive from Bethesda to Wilmington planning to grab a girl to take his frustrations out on. He's never done this with so little preparation, every other girl he'd watched for several days before grabbing her.

He sees a girl entering the public library, and waits for her to come back out.

He doesn't have to wait long, he watches long enough to see her turn left down the road he pulls his van out and parks half a block away. He'll be able to grab her as she walks past.

When she's five meters away he get's out and pretends to be checking the tyres, timing his actions so he's at the rear passenger one at the same time as she's walking past. He grabs her wrapping an arm around her neck dragging her into the back of the van while cutting of her air. He doesn't see the cop running towards him or hear the business man screaming at him to stop.

She's finally stopped struggling… unconscious in his arms… when he looks up it's into the barrel of a gun.

Damien Lucas Knight refuses to speak to police, he doesn't request a phone call or a lawyer.

The girl is fine, they took her to hospital where she'll be staying overnight.

The lead detective remembers hearing about similar cases in Harrisburg and Dover, he'd received a request from the FBI asking them to be notified if they come across something similar so he calls David Rossi who instead of coming to Wilmington meets the local PD at Knight's house in Bethesda.

They search the deceptively normal house methodically. The ground floor is neat, clean and orderly, flicking the lights on Dave leads way down the basement stairs. Instead of an open space he finds another door it has floor and ceiling bolts meant to keep someone in and not out. The door opens to reveal Knights play room, Dave hates to admit it but he's seen worse, he leaves most of it for the crime scene techs to go over, on the opposite side of the room is another door with several well oiled bolts and foam inserts to stop any sound from penetrating.

Taking a deep breath Dave prepares himself for what is coming. He is expecting a trophy room, possibly a decomposing body, instead a small but well appointed kitchenette greets him, along with the smell of vomit and the sound of whimpering children.

Opposite the door is a queen size bed with a dark haired woman lying with her naked back to him. He barely gets inside when she throws herself out of the bed and kneels at his feet, eyes cast down.

The free bird thinks of another breeze

and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees

and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn

and he names the sky his own