Stranded Ch. 09

"No, sir...Yes, sir. I will have the accommodations you need by the time you arrive...yes, I understand...Alright, God bless you too. Bye." He slid the phone back into his jeans pocket and went back to his meal. When it became clear he wasn't going to divulge anything, I gathered my strength and asked instead.

"Was that them?" He nodded, showing no intention of explaining beyond that.

"How long before they are here?"

"About a week, you ought to be finished bleeding by then; so, you ought to be easier to deal with." I felt my eye twitch and I took a few slow shallow breaths.

"My period doesn't make me difficult to deal with, being held against my will and raped repeatedly tends to have that kind of effect on a person." The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile.

"I did nothing that didn't have you soaking wet by the time I was finished with you. I was wondering how long you would last before you opened that mouth of yours. Fighting your nature isn't going to help you in this situation; I guess I'll just have to train the sass right out of you. In fact, starting now, I want you to only speak when you have been given express permission to do so; to speak otherwise will result in a punishment for each offense."

"What kind of punishment?" He lifted an eyebrow in question, but I held his gaze. I didn't care that I was already breaking his new rule, I wanted to know; I needed to know.

"That will be for me to decide and carry out. It is better you learn what you can now, then to make a mistake once the conclave arrives."

"Why is everyone so afraid of a bunch of old men?" Of course, the only information I really had was second hand, and from the mouth of a now dead man. It wasn't the conclave I thought they should be afraid of, I found Arioch a more tangible fear. I could never tell exactly what was going on in his head and that thought alone terrified me.

"They're not, they're afraid of what those old men can do...or order others to do for them. Their job isn't an easy one; with each generation, our family grows bigger and their numbers stay the same, they never let in anyone new until someone dies."

"Would you join them?" I asked, knowing I did not have explicit permission to do so.

"It would be an honor to serve the conclave, it would be smart to have our input. Like Sammy told them, the world out there is changing. If they want to continue doing the Lord's work, they're going to have to adapt sooner or later."

"Have any of you gotten caught? I know your mother got away once."

"We follow the path the Lord has laid out for us; He provides for those who have faith in Him just as He will punish those who do not. The wicked must be shown the path to righteousness, and you darlin', are very wicked."

"You don't even know me!" I scoffed.

"I know enough to know sin runs deep in your blood."

"Who are you to call anyone wicked?" I shouted angrily.

"You're up to six now, do you really wish to keep going?" I clenched my teeth and glared. The little tidbits were like puzzle pieces, the more I collected, the bigger the picture got. Maybe if the picture was big enough, I could figure out a way home. He nodded towards my plate in a silent command and I picked up my fork, digging in. We ate in silence; the only sound was Hanks snoring and my eyes drifted towards the window. If the leaves were changing color, that meant it was getting closer to fall. Summer was either over or nearly there. Would Stacy report me missing or would she assume I was never coming back? I had packed most of my things when I left. Which are nothing but ash now. I hadn't told my father I was coming home; it honestly hadn't been something I was even planning. Then I found them. By the time either of them got enough clothes on to chase after me, I was already pulling out of the parking lot. It took hours before I returned, and I had my bags packed within 15 minutes. The first few days on the road they called and texted non-stop. I didn't bother to listen to the voicemails or even read the messages, I just deleted them. Nothing they said was going to make the pain hurt any less and by day four, my phone fell silent.

There were only a few people I had bothered to let in after my mother's death, their betrayal had nearly killed me. If I couldn't trust them, then who did I have left? My ailing father? There was no way I could burden him with my problems. When Sam had asked me questions, I gave him the prettier, fluffed up version. After all, I had thought I was merely passing through. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay, it was quite possible no one was even looking for me. I hadn't exactly kept in touch with my father on a regular basis besides on Christmas and his birthday. If I asked, would Arioch even tell me? Did he even know? Was getting caught even something he worried about? He seemed confident I wasn't going to get away. And maybe there was a small chance I wasn't. I tried to picture what that would look like, but the images that came forth were not your typical white-picket-fence scenario. I glanced at him only to find him watching me, the intensity of his gaze forcing me to look away. I straightened my back, forced the tears away and stuffed it all down. Despite the curveballs the universe continued to pelt me with, I was still here, that had to mean something. I swallowed back the sobs stuck in my throat and steeled myself. It didn't matter if anyone was looking for me. I was getting away or I would die trying.

After cleaning the kitchen, Arioch locked me back in the basement. He offered no explanation and I didn't bother to ask. I assumed he was going to be moving his mother and sister, either way, any time I didn't have to spend with him was wonderful. He left me with Hank who followed me around like a second shadow. The mattress was gone, the mess I had left scrubbed clean. There was a long piece of plywood across the cot springs and a comforter for cushioning. I sprawled across it, Hank curling against me and I dozed off within seconds of closing my eyes. I woke to the sound of the locks sliding open and Hank let off a warning bark, stretching his back legs as he moved to investigate. But once the door opened his ears tucked and he scampered off to the corner of the room. It let me know it was still Arioch at the wheel.

He was wordless as he unlocked the chain and led me upstairs where the water was already running.

"I want you naked and kneeling in the bathtub," he instructed.

"Why? I took a shower this morning." But one look back in my direction and I obediently disrobed, being careful with the removal of my bandage and climbed in. I faced away from the spray, closing my eyes as the warm water cascaded over me. The only sound was that of the water pummeling my skull. The drugs had yet to wear off, so I found myself floating.

"I have decided your punishment," Arioch announced. A jolt of panic shot through me, was he going to drown me again? I gripped the side of the tub as I tried to reason with the irrational thoughts buzzing around my head.

"What is it going to be, husband?" He hadn't given permission, and I was sure the sarcasm wasn't lost. But he only chuckled and cupped my face in his hands, tilting it up to look at him.

"That one is going to cost you an additional two."

"Two of what?" I demanded.

"I'm going to shove my cock down your throat and hold it there for... ten seconds. I'm rounding up, and we are going to do this over and over until I believe you've learned your lesson."

It was a hard sight to miss when it was literally inches from my face, standing at full attention and I came to realize I had yet to taste him since my captivity began. I had his cousins, and there were a few others before that, so fellatio was nothing new to me. At least he'll be clean. He gathered my hair at the crown of my head, holding it up like a ponytail, his other hand gripping my lower jaw. He leaned over and looked down at me.

"Do I need to tell you the consequences should I feel even a slight graze of those teeth?" I shook my head, the look in his eyes told me enough, it would not be worth it. My stomach knotted as he gave my hair a good yank, using his other hand to guide himself into my mouth. He wasn't monstrous like John had been, but he was above average. I folded my lips over my teeth, doing my best to accommodate him; and he fit, though just barely. He thought he was going to punish me, but really it was only a game of who could last longer, and I was betting on me.

He was lenient enough that he didn't immediately start ramming himself down my throat, instead, he built a slower pace, pushing just a little further with each stroke. I relaxed my jaw, fighting the intense urge to gag as he picked up speed, stretching my throat for him. I could feel my nose pressed against his pelvis, my chin against his testicles. He used his grip in my hair to hold me there, as he began to count out loud. I was still feeling arrogant by the time he got to four, by six I felt the spark of fire in my lungs, by nine I was gagging, body convulsing; I shook with the need to vomit, but with his grip holding me in place I was unable. I gasped when he finally pulled out, positive it had been much longer than ten seconds. I coughed and sputtered, bile burning the back of my throat and just like that, I was no longer confident I was going to win. A haze crept into my consciousness and I had a few seconds to inhale before he pulled my head up and did it again. I gripped the edge of the tub until my knuckles turned white, stomach tightening as I tried to relax, tried to breathe around him. Alarm bells sounded off in my head, I needed air and no matter what I did, I just couldn't get enough.

After a few rounds, he gave up on teaching me a lesson and began to fuck my mouth instead. My hands left the side of the tub and gripped his thighs, fingernails digging into the soft flesh. There was a moment where the real me faded away, and I became nothing more than a hole; my new purpose was to present a warm and wet hole for him to stick his dick in. When I felt him pick up speed, my abused throat opened wider, surrendering to the assault. I could hear his final grunt, his hands tightly tangled in my hair, holding me in place as his cock twitched before finally exploding, coating the back of my throat. I swallowed it with ease, the sooner he finished the sooner I could breathe. He pulled out, the last few spurts landing on my face. He wiped the head of his dick across my cheek, the fluids washing away with the water as I stared at the bottom of the tub, waiting for my breathing to regulate, hands sliding down from his thighs and landing in my lap.

"You're pretty good at that," he growled, as though it were a compliment. A blush rose to my cheeks, but I refused to acknowledge it. Acknowledging it gave it power, and I couldn't bear to give him anymore.

My lips felt swollen, the back of my throat now tender and bruised. Arioch pulled me to my feet and hugged me against him, resting my head on his warm bare chest and all my resistance melted. I could hear his heart pounding, feel the rise and fall of his chest, as I listened closely, finding it only slightly erratic. His hand rubbed my back in small, comforting circles and one by one, my muscles slackened. I closed my eyes and focused on the rhythmic tempo, trying to match my breathing with his. It was nice to be held, to experience a bit of tenderness, even if it was from the more brutish of the two. I had spent all this time thinking of them as opposites; I saw Arioch as being a shattered part of Sam's personality, but it appeared I knew even less than I thought. The water had just begun to temper when he pulled away and shut it off, handing me a fresh towel. My mind was still in a bit of a haze, but I wasn't in the mood to fight it, instead, I sank further into it. I could pretend for the moment, push all the other thoughts away and play good wife; but only for a moment. I took care of my 'girly needs' as he so fondly referred to it and met him in the hallway. I had assumed he was going to take me back downstairs, instead, he chained me to the foot of his bed and instructed me to sit on the edge while he fetched his black medicine bag. The skin was still red and sensitive, but with the routine painkillers, I felt nothing.

With my leg quickly bandaged he climbed in, holding the blanket open in invitation. Sighing I crawled under the covers and felt his arm coil around my chest, pulling me snug against him.

"I swear I won't let anything happen to you, never again. Only if you behave like a proper wife. You can do that, can't you darlin'?" Tears filled my eyes, but I nodded, Sure, I could do that, but what good was his word to me? Hadn't he promised the exact same thing at our wedding? But he remedied that quickly, didn't he? I still wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that entire situation. Did I feel remorse of their demise? No. Did I feel guilty? Very little. The callousness in which Arioch carried out his deed had me thinking perhaps he had been planning their demise for much longer than one evening. He had mentioned some awful things they had done to Sam as a boy, perhaps they had it coming. Maybe it was the universe trying to equalize some of the bad in the world. How many other women had been saved from the same fate by their deaths? That thought alone allowed me enough peace of mind to finally drift off.

The week that followed was filled with silence, my days were spent cleaning and cooking while Sam continued to swap things around the house for more 'conclave approved' items. Sam began reading passages from his bible while I worked on sewing up tears and replacing buttons on some of his clothes. I messed up several times, but Sam was patient. He simply took it apart and had me start over, assisting me when I needed it. My fingers were always tender pincushions by the time I was finished. I said very little, instead I chose to spend my time observing, made mental notes on weak areas around the house; like the third step on the staircase leading to the second story that creaked or the hinges on the back screen was starting to squeak if opened more than halfway. I noted the additional cast iron skillet in the cupboard and the heavy lamp by the fireplace. I gave short clipped replies when he tried to engage me in any conversation and after the first few nights, he didn't bother anymore. There was really nothing I wanted to say to him, at least nothing he wanted to hear.

The arrival of the Conclave was marked with darkened skies and the scent of potential rain. Several black SUVs with tinted windows pulled into his driveway, sounding off a chorus of horns that sent the hounds howling. Of course, they would drive the typical 'bad guy' car. Neither Sam nor Arioch had given me much warning about what exactly to expect or even how many would be showing up, instead, they insisted as long as I followed the rules, I would remain safe. Sam pulled me outside with him, rushing to open one of the back doors of the first car, revealing the same older man who officiated our wedding. Although part of me doubted it was anything actually "official", about as official as their bible. His cheeks were a little rosier than the last time we saw him, his suspenders a nice shade of royal blue to match his slacks. He greeted Sam with a strong hug, slapping his hand against his back affectionately.

"It's good to see you, even if it is under such dire circumstances."

"You as well, Uncle; I have prepared the rooms, you will have mine during your stay." Despite being shorter than Sam, he still reached up and ruffled his hair.

"You're a good boy Samson. I pray for a quick resolution." The second older gentleman was closer to Sam's height, he had salt and pepper hair, but he seemed to have aged gracefully, making it hard to pinpoint an exact age. He was introduced as Clive and the woman as Honey; who happened to be his newest wife. She was a short and slightly plump woman with honey blonde hair and green eyes. At least I was pretty sure they were green, she only glanced up long enough to see where she was walking and to follow Clive's orders. The two boys who drove the older gentlemen were a lot younger, by comparison, one of them looking barely old enough to even drive. They began unloading the luggage, not bothering to stop as Sam introduced them, Jacob and Esau.

As we approached the third car, my stomach dropped. The way he had been described; I half expected some sort of monstrous looking man to climb out. Earl was a tall man, nearly a foot taller than Sam, his shoulders were broad; his hair kept short, it was dark grey with bits of white slipping into his beard and temples. When I looked a little closer, I noticed a couple of streaks of grayish blue in his beard. It had obviously been dyed, but why? His eyes were the color of dark chocolate and the way he stared down at me made me feel small and suddenly insignificant.

"Is this your new one? How many are you at now?" Earl grunted, nodding his head in my direction.

"This is KitKat, and she is my second wife," Sam replied, pulling me in closer, his arm squeezing my shoulders as though trying to remind me I was safe. And all you have to do is give him a piece your soul in return. Earl took another look at me, gaze sweeping up then down, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn't undressing me. He was assessing, trying to figure out if I posted any real threat. Although judging by the size of him I doubted he found much of anything threatening.

"Would you like any help with your bags?" Sam offered but Earl shook his head and began walking towards the house with his duffel bag in tow.

"Dale should be arriving shortly, then we can get started." We followed Earl into the house just as two more cars pulled into the driveway, effectively blocking it and I was certain it was intentional. Honey had already started a fresh pot of coffee, bustling about with ease, as if it was her second home. While she had arrived with Clive, she served all the men equally. The fact that she knew exactly how many creams and sugar everyone liked, told me she couldn't be that new. Or perhaps she's just better at serving than you. I shook my head, I didn't care if she was better at serving than me, it meant less work for me and fewer interactions with the others. Sam welcomed the men as they arrived, offering them refreshments, directing them towards the dining room table. There were seven conclave members in total and the five younger men drove and did most of the heavy lifting. I stuck close to Sam, even when he let go of my hand, he put it on his shoulder so that I could stay near. It was a small gesture, one I found myself grateful for. I focused on breathing, Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. What could Arioch possibly have planned to protect us? We were vastly outnumbered, and while I kept my gaze lowered, I still managed to catch sight of a few guns. Earl wore two in his shoulder holsters, but he wasn't hiding them. He wore them over his button up shirt, I recognized one as a revolver, the cylinder chamber gave it away.

The younger boys each had one on their hip, I was guessing Glocks, but I knew very little about guns. I was pretty sure I had seen one tucked into the back of someone's pants, and I didn't doubt they had other weapons among them. Sam introduced the rest of the conclave, Henry, Theodore, George, and Robert. There was no doubt that Robert was the oldest among them. If the liver spots hadn't given it away, the wheezing and oxygen tank did. He was mostly bald except for a few wisps of hair. His hands were gnarled with age and callused from a life of hard living. His eyes were a faded green and when he opened his mouth to speak, I swear it was the stench of death on his breath. Three other young men eventually made their way to the kitchen after they got things settled in. Phillip and Adam were identical twins, both with sandy blonde hair but where Phillip kept his buzzed, Adam kept his a little shaggy, making it easier to tell the difference between them. The youngest of them was Eli, by my guess he couldn't be much older than 12 if the peach fuzz was anything to go by. He had a hard stare for someone so young and he stood quietly in the background with the others.