Family Matters Ch. 22

Her parents appeared and the four walked back home in the street; for Anne to use the sidewalk would leave crimson footprints on it.

Her father suggested dragging her; her mother gave him a sharp look and he said he was only joking.

Anne was glad of that. She did not think she could survive the experience. Her father had an odd sense of humor.

Or perhaps he was reminding her of her status. She needed that now and then and silently thanked him. He might still have some lingering trace of affection for his daughter.

And he was right, she thought; she really was just a piece of trash. She *should* be dragged home through the streets.

Michelle took her into the back yard, hosed the dirt off her body and applied alcohol to her wounds. The antiseptic burned like fire from her neck to her knees, but the light touch of her sister's hands was heaven.

Her father told Michelle that on Odette's advice he bet on her and won a large amount. Anne was pleased at this.

Downstairs Michelle hung her up and fed her paste, her first food since morning. She took it eagerly and her sister told her not to gobble; Anne blushed at the chastisement.

She went upstairs and Anne was left to her thoughts. What followed was a dark night of the soul for Anne, perhaps her worst; her father's words haunted her.

She fell into an agony of self-disgust for what she had become. Beaten in public for the entertainment of strangers and pulled around the arena like an animal; for this she had thrown away career, dignity, honor, respect.

She deserved to die but she could not ask for it. She had no right, her body and soul belonged to others. Besides, naked and bound she was unable to hurt herself; her masters had wisely put such actions out of her power. But oh, if someone would come and end her shame...

No; she chose this life and she must see it through.

She would do what she was told and be what her owners wanted: a whore, a slave, an example to others. Hung up torn and bleeding, this is what she had made of herself and she must pursue it to the end. She felt a pair of rats sniffing her feet.

She drifted off to nightmarish dreams of execution; strangled, gutted like a pig, flayed into strips or thrown off a cliff.

She woke to sounds on the floor and shuddered. The rats, they were hungry; they were coming for her.

No, it was Michelle and her mentor Odette; they had descended the cellar stairs unnoticed; she breathed a sigh of relief.

Marvelous, said Odette to Miki; you have outdone yourself. May I...?

Her sister nodded and the woman placed a hand on Anne's wounded belly. It tensed reflexively, but she forced a smile of invitation. Odette lifted her breasts and inspected the fine red lines that Michelle had placed there. Inspired work, I could not have done better myself. Michelle blushed a little at the praise.

Odette reached between Anne's legs and she opened them for use. The woman stroked the outer lips and she began to pant in expectation; but Odette did not proceed further and went around in back to review the marks on her buttocks, which she pronounced "very creative".

She patted Anne's bald head and gave Michelle a lingering kiss; yes, they were lovers.

Steps on the stairs; they separated; Anne's father appeared. He was as impressed with his daughter's work as Odette had been, and told them to hang her outside after breakfast. He wanted to show her off to the neighbors.

He left, and Anne's mother descended a few minutes later with a bowl of paste and a spoon. She winked and handed them to Michelle.

Then she examined Anne from all sides. She said nothing, but gave Michelle a warm maternal hug. Tears of joy streamed down Anne's face.

Her nocturnal depression vanished, replaced with a childlike elation; both of her parents were pleased. Her mother went upstairs and Michelle passed the feed bowl to Odette.

The woman fed her slowly, amorously, making love to her with the spoon. She filled it with paste and placed it in Anne's open mouth. Anne closed her lips on it and licked the spoon clean while the other two watched.

The paste was hot and salty, like a man's seed. That explained her mother's wink. She took it eagerly and opened her mouth for the next spoonful. When it was all done her nipples stood up and her womb was moist.

The joys of surrender, of degrading herself to others, which she had forgotten last night came back to her. She had chosen the right path.

The two women unhooked her and led her up the stairs and outside. Anne's lacerated hide was stiff and movement painful, but she obeyed and they soon had her suspended in the back yard. She closed her eyes and soaked up the warm morning sun.

Word traveled quickly, and by mid-morning the yard was filled with spectators of all ages who came to view the award-winning marks on her body.

At some point she had to relieve herself; she had lost all sense of modesty and simply opened her legs. A child saw this and called to her friends; they pointed and giggled at the sight.

Later she was lowered to her knees and directed to "service" a number of men who paid for the privilege; her father earned a considerable sum from it.

Yes, in her mouth it was like the paste this morning. Her mother had hidden sides to her nature, some tricks she was unaware of.

The crowd dispersed in the afternoon; her mother came out to view her. Had Anne seen herself in a mirror yet?

No, she had not. Perhaps they did not want her to; the older woman would describe it for her. Her whole body was an artful checkerboard of red lines with soft-edged dark bruises beneath them in places. It was really quite beautiful, Michelle had a genius for this.

At sundown Michelle took her back inside where she hung for the next three days, fed and watered twice a day. The hair on her scalp grew back to a short fuzz.