Stranded Ch. 14

Welcome to my dark little corner of the universe! DISCLAIMER: like nearly everything I write, this story consists of many dark, fucked-up, non-consensual themes, some DV, some violence/abuse, imprisonment, kidnapping, and occasionally even a little bit of torture. If any of this or terrible grammar offends you, then stop now, because this story isn't for you!

*****

"Lick it clean," he ordered, pointing at the small mess left on the dining room table. I adjusted the dress as I slid it back on and looked back and forth between him and the puddle. It hadn't been a question, so there was no need to ask if he was serious. It wasn't as if I was new to the taste of semen, or even his semen. It was licking it off the table that I had a problem with, it felt degrading. He only took one step towards me, and not wanting to incur his wrath again, I leaned over without further hesitation. In one long swipe of my tongue, I cleaned the table. My cheeks burned as I swallowed.

"Good girl, now my cock too." With one hand on the table, I lowered myself back down to my knees, taking his now soft, flaccid cock into my mouth and licked him clean. He cleared his throat as he pulled away, his cock growing firmer while he held his hand out to me, pulling me to my feet before leading me up the stairs and into his bathroom.

"Go hop in the shower." I didn't wait for further instructions, I strode in and flipped on the hot water, turning it to the preferred temperature I knew he liked; too damn hot. I stood at the far end of the shower; the spray only able to burn me from the thighs down. He returned with two towels before climbing in, groaning in approval as he slipped beneath the hot water.

"So, tell me, wife, was calling it home all a ploy to distract Sammy? Or have you finally conceded and realized this is where you belong?" I gave him my best attempt of a blank stare, but he only returned it with one of his own.

"A ploy." I admitted. I had come to realize that lying to Arioch was counterproductive, and the welts throbbed as a reminder. He gave me a contented smile as he handed me the shampoo.

"Since you told me the truth, I won't punish you. However, Sammy is a fragile boy; his emotions are not to be toyed with; it will not happen again." I swallowed but nodded in response as I reached up and began scrubbing his greasy hair.

"Did you even shower while you were gone?"

"We washed the important bits anyways. Sammy wanted to get back as quickly as possible. Not that it did us any good."

I could feel his gaze as it swept over the abuse that had been wrecked upon me.

"They're going to pay for what they have done," Arioch promised.

"But...you gave me your word." And does it surprise you that he'd break it? His word means nothing.

"I gave you my word I wouldn't kill them. And I won't. Zeke, my lack of trust is punishment enough for the big guy; I know he didn't shove you into the desk maliciously. Ephraim, Noah, and Saul may have been punished, but it's not enough. I'm going to make them sorry. Sorry that they looked at you with lust in their eyes. Sorry that they dared to even breathe on you, let alone touch you. That is what I'm going to do." His words should have frightened me, my heart was pounding wildly in my chest; but it wasn't because I was scared, it was because his words excited me. I very much wanted his cousins to suffer, I wanted them to hurt for the things I'd endured. And the fact I could incite such violence in another being had me feeling a little exalted.

Even if he didn't value me as a separate being, he, at the very least, cherished me as something that belonged to him.

"Is that really worth dealing with the conclave again?"

"You do not get to decide what is worth my time. Why are you so quick to defend them?" he demanded.

"I-I'm not, I just...I can't."

"Are you defending them because you liked it? I bet you got off, didn't you, you little slut!? Tell me the truth."

"Because I don't want them to come back." I replied in a moment of vulnerability. I could not go through that again. I wasn't sure I could handle another visit; I was barely holding on as it was. He looked at me for a long time before pulling my face closer and kissing my forehead.

"I will do everything in my power to keep you from having to deal with them." Even with my own thoughts against me, his words brought comfort, if only a sliver. He pulled me against him, pressing my head against his chest. Arioch, being nice? Maybe I had suffered brain damage. I wanted to pull away at first; I wanted to tell him my stitches were getting wet. But I melted instead, sinking into the warmth of his wet, naked body. It had been a stressful few days and I was grateful to be back at Sam's. At least most of his actions came from a place of love, a twisted sense of love, but still love.

"Shh, it's over now." I wouldn't have even realized I was crying if I didn't feel the shaking of my body against his ever-tightening embrace.

Being at Dale's had been harder than I could ever admit to. Tears and snot ran with the stream of water, his grip never loosening as I cried until the water ran cold. He turned the water off, taking the nearest towel and began drying me off, starting with my hair.

"I can dry myself off," I protested through sniffles. But he ignored me and kept going, taking his time before finally drying himself off too. He didn't bother with clothes, he took my hand and pulled me into his bedroom, sitting me on the edge of his bed. I was too tired to be frightened of what affections he would bestow upon me next. But Arioch knelt, my heart sinking a little as he dragged the thick metal chain out from beneath his bed, wrapping it around my ankle before reaching into his nightstand for a lock. I would have burst into tears, but I already exhausted myself.

"This is just until we can trust you more." he assured. "Whether it's forever is up to you." He reached up to tuck a wet strand of hair behind my ear. I hadn't even tried to run when I was at Dales, hadn't that earned me something? But I knew better than to argue with him. If I was being honest, the temptation was often too much. I almost welcomed the comfort of being left with no choice.

"I understand." I gave him a weak smile as he climbed over me and under the covers.

"Lay down, wife. I could use a nap after all that exertion." I stretched out, ignoring the rattling of the chain as I pulled up the covers, letting him curl himself around me. I found the skin to skin contact, while a little painful, soothing. His warm breathing eventually evened, and I was pulled into a deep slumber.

~~

"Do we have to?" Sam frowned.

"We are part of this family, so yes, we have to go! This is Asher's first wife, and he's one of the few good cousins. I would like to be there for him."

"Then that is where we will be," I replied, giving him a small smile. It had been a couple weeks since he'd come home, at least I was pretty sure a couple weeks had passed. As we fell into a bit of a routine, time seemed to blur together and what good was keeping track of those anymore? Instead I focused on tasks, on keeping Sam in a good mood. Arioch had yet to return since his first night back, so I considered myself on a streak. I wasn't new to the game of pretend, nor was I a stranger to adapting to the whims of another. It was all about learning their moods, what made them happy, what upset them, what relaxed them, what made their life easier and in turn would make my life easier. It wasn't as though Sam was a difficult man to learn, it was learning his other half and then keeping the men separated that was the hard part.

He had received a phone call that morning, inviting him to the double ceremony. The thought of sitting by complicity while watching two more women go were forced into matrimony, I wasn't sure my new facade was up for the task. It was one thing to smile and play 'house', that was rather easy in the grand scheme of all things. Then again, how could I even begin to think of helping anyone else if I couldn't even think of a way out for myself? There were so many of them and so few of us. And how could I know which ones weren't already lost to the brainwashing? It was selfish, but I had to think of myself. He spun me around and began braiding my hair, the bald patch on my head now had a little bit of fuzz to it, but he hid it beneath a few strands for my comfort. I wore a fuchsia colored dress, and Sam wore the same navy-blue tux he'd worn on the day of our ceremony, but instead of the bright red tie, it was fuchsia like my dress. How quaint. He unlocked my ankle from the chain before leaving the house, instantly securing me to the dashboard. I didn't fight or argue; earning his trust was going to take me time. First, I had to show him I was worth trusting.

Dale's driveway was packed with cars, the yard in between the houses had dozens of white lights strung up in the sky like a net, it was quite breathtaking. Sam led us into the house where I was dropped off with Emily while he left to join the men. I followed Emily silently and found myself in what I could only assume was one of the wife's bedrooms. A young woman sat tied to a chair and gagged. She wore an eggshell white dress; her hair was currently being put up by Bethany while Emily set one of two make up bags on the counter.

"This is Byron's wife-to-be, Iris. Iris, this is my niece, KitKat." I felt my jaw twitch, I really, really hated that name. I nodded in her direction, but I didn't meet her gaze, it felt cowardly, but if I didn't look at her, then I could pretend I wasn't being forced to witness it all for just a little bit longer. I wasn't any good to her. Hell, I wasn't any good to myself.

"You know anything about makeup?" Bethany demanded. I shook my head, pressing my back into the wall. Maybe if I was silent enough, I'd start to blend in. She let out an exasperated sigh and after putting a few more pins in place, she snatched the bag off the counter and began shuffling through it while the bound girl sobbed incessantly through the bandana.

"You need to stop crying, or would you like me to fetch Byron again?" At the mentioning of his name Iris eyes went wide and her crying instantly ceased to be nothing more than a sniffle. Bethany pursed her lips as she tapped them with the eyeliner pencil, studying the blank canvas in front of her. Emily crooked her finger and I followed her out gratefully, dozens of questions flitting through my mind. Where did they find her? Did she have family and loved ones that would be looking for her? I wondered what she thought of her situation. At least at Sam's I had some illusion of getting free someday. But here, at Dale's, surrounded by his gigantic brood, how could there be any hope? You could barely breathe without someone hearing it. Emily led me out of the house and towards the nearly identical one across the yard. It was almost a mirror image as I stepped inside and I found it disorientating. I slid my hand up the banister as we ascended the curved staircase, and she led us straight into one of the bathrooms. It was the largest one I'd seen yet, resembling more of a locker room than an actual bathroom and I could tell it was meant for the daughters by the amount of soaps, lotions and hair things that littered the counter.

There was a counter with half a dozen sinks, stalls for both showers and toilets. It was strange to see it as part of a house, but it was practical when you had so many living under one roof. In the middle of the room was an older, tall curvy woman who stood at the sink. Lillian was working on her hair and when Emily set the second make-up bag on the counter, the woman began helping herself. She wasn't gagged or restrained, in fact she seemed rather cheerful considering her circumstances. Was she even kidnapped? Maybe she was a long distant cousin, Sam had mentioned being offered a few as brides. Had stealing one proved too difficult?

"Sara, this is my niece KitKat. KitKat, this is Asher's wife-to-be, Sara." The shapely woman with cinnamon colored hair and hazel eyes smiled when she turned, and I felt an uneasiness settle between my shoulder blades. Something was off, she was happy, too happy.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." She held out her hand for what felt like the longest time before I begrudgingly accepted it. Her fingers were long and dainty, and she had the grip of a wet noodle. She quickly turned back to the mirror and began investigating every item she pulled out. Emily crooked her finger and I was grateful to be in the hallway once more.

"What's her damage?" Emily frowned when she looked my way.

"What makes you think she's damaged?" she demanded; her eyes set hard.

"She's acting like some creepy step-ford wife." Then it occurred to me that she might not even understand the reference.

"So, because she chose to embrace her destiny instead of fighting it, she must be damaged?" the defensiveness in her tone made it clear she wasn't referring only to Sara. I bit my lip to prevent myself from blurting the first response that came to my mind, it often was never kind. Of course, that meant she was damaged, who in their right mind would want this kind of life?

"Is that how you sleep at night? By telling yourself this was divine fate. What kind of fucked up, misogynistic God do you pray to?" Emily whipped around so fast I nearly ran right into her. She shoved me back against the wall until our faces were so close our noses almost touched, her hands balled into the front of my dress and I could tell there was barely suppressed rage by the way her arms shook. And it hit me, she was the kind of person who might want that type of life. She had been raised in it after all.

She was a little taller than me, but it was the look in her eyes that frightened me most, there was so much anger and resentment burning beneath those lashes.

"You can sit here with your nasty little heathen attitude, hoping beyond hope that someday you'll make it out of here alive, but you do not get to judge the rest of us for surrendering to His divine will. You do not get to stand there and question our faith. Now, if you are finished insulting my family, there is more work to be done." She didn't glance backwards as she marched down the stairs. When had Emily finally lost hope? Was it when Dale dragged his seventh wife by a tow truck? Or had it been before that, after Skye had 'died'? Would her desire to leave change if she knew Skye was still alive? Or would it only make matters worse? If she didn't already know, there was probably a reason for it and the last thing I wanted was to make Sam angry with me. My comment must have rubbed her the wrong way because she didn't speak another word to me for most of the morning. She motioned to things and I wordlessly obeyed until Sam came to fetch me to find good seats.

He squeezed my hand tightly as we found our seats near the back row. While the sky had begun to darken, the hundreds of strung up lights provided more than enough illumination and a very pleasing aesthetic to the scene. Though nothing would make me forget just how fucked up it all was to begin with. My finger rubbed against the garnet stone absently. It felt heavier than any jewelry I had ever worn, but I suppose knowing the servitude that came with it hadn't made the silver band any lighter.

"You're quiet more than usual today," Sam observed.

"I don't have much to say," I confessed, and he nearly choked on his laughter.

"I highly doubt that."

"I have nothing to say of value." I corrected.

"Now, that I believe." I felt tears prick my eyes, but I pushed them away. I was trying to be good; didn't he see that? Was anything I did ever going to be enough? Or was that just another one of his tactics to keep me feeling low?

The music began and it was like the ground had been ripped out from under me, I felt nauseous and dizzy as we watched Sarah walk down the aisle. Her make-up was done well, and I saw a flash of her pearly white smile as she joined the man who I safely assumed to be Asher. He had his father's Sandy blonde hair but his mother's coffee brown eyes. He took her hands into his gently, his thumb rubbing the top of her knuckles and her face flushed. I let my mind wander as they went through the motions, my eyes searching for the less reluctant wife. What did she think of this? Did she want out as much as I did? It would be nice to have someone on my side, someone who didn't look at me like I was insane for wanting to go home or thought me ungrateful for not accepting my new life and all the 'honor' bestowed upon me. It was clear when it was Byron and his new wife-to-be's turn, I could hear her coming all the way from the house. While she was still gagged and bound, that didn't seem to stop her from trying to scream and curse through it anyways. Her wrists were bound together in front of her and she was tossed over Byron's shoulder, legs kicking wildly while pounding her fists against his back, but he managed to lug her to the front, setting her onto a bale of hale someone had brought, taking the offered rope and securing her legs. Her make-up had already started to run, several strands of hair were out of place, but she glared up at Byron with such anger I could almost feel the heat of it. Abraham opened his mouth to begin but the woman shouted through the bandana tied tightly around her mouth, interrupting him over and over until Byron leaned forward, pulling her head back with a handful of her neatly done hair. He whispered something in her ear and whatever it was had her sitting upright and quietly within a matter of seconds. What threat had he muttered to get her to behave?

Sam's hand slid into mine, bringing me back to reality.

"You were a lot more breathtaking than both of them."

"Having a deep plunge dress will have that effect," I replied, gritting my teeth. I still wasn't happy about that; it had been humiliating to wear in front of his overly conservative family.

"I wanted everyone to see what a beautiful wife I claimed for myself." The heat of his gaze sent a rosy blush to my cheeks. Was he actually flirting with me? I swallowed past the knot in my throat, squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile.

"Perfectly understandable, I am pretty amazing." He let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. With Iris bound and gagged, it was over as quickly as it began and when he tossed her back over his shoulder, a few of his brothers cheered, congratulating both men as a small group of them made their way towards the barn. Sam pulled me to my feet, and we followed them.

"Are you going to... I mean, will you be...uh...participating?"

"Am I going to fuck the new wives? Is that what you are trying to ask me?" He was taking pleasure in how uncomfortable the conversation was making me.

"If you are, I..I would really prefer it if you left me with one of the wives." I glanced back at them, they were already gathering the folding chairs and putting them away as the musicians got settled and started playing.

"Just ask me if I'm going to fuck them." I narrowed my eyes, an order, not a request.

"Are you...going to fuck them?" It wasn't as if I even cared if he did, I just didn't want to be stuck watching.

"No." And no further explanation was given. He grabbed my hand and we followed the small group of men into the barn. I cringed, screams and cries could be heard the closer we got, and I found myself squeezing Sam's hand tighter. In the middle of the barn was Iris, the gag had been removed, she was bent over what looked to be a sawhorse, her ankles bound to a bar which was also bound to her wrists, exposing her naked holes for all to see. Byron had just finished tying her up before patting her head and standing. She let out a string of curses that would have made any sailor proud, right before he shoved a horse bit in her mouth. One of his brothers held a propane torch that was currently heating up the large G. My leg twitched at the memory. The scabs had taken forever to fall off and itched like crazy in the meantime.