Stranded Ch. 16

"I already told you, as long as you don't run, you will never have to go back in there. Extreme punishments are only for extreme offenses, the most you would have gotten was a scolding, maybe a few swats."

"And how do you know Sam won't change his mind?"

"Because if he were going to put you back in that hole, he would have done it already! We have yet to break our word, unlike you. I'm a little disappointed to be honest, but I think I know the real reason you did this." He spun me around so fast I grabbed onto the counter to steady myself.

"Don't move." he growled. I could hear him shuffling around in one of the drawers. I turned to peek, but he snapped his finger and pointed back to the counter. I could hear him digging around some more before I felt him lift the skirt of my dress, pulling down the suffocating long underwear until it hugged my ankles. I felt him lean against me, slowly pressing my face down until my cheek was flat against the cold counter, the top of my breasts pressed against the edge. He kicked my legs apart, pulling my hips back with a wooden spoon pressed against the front of my pelvis, making my ass stick out. He did not hold me there, but he did not have to, just the feel of him leaning against me was enough to keep me still. He was stronger than me and big enough he almost encompassed me entirely. There was no use in fighting, or struggling, it would not do any good.

"I believe you knew exactly what you were doing when you through these in the trash, you were calling for me. You missed me...didn't you darlin'?" I was almost speechless, and I stuttered a few times before finally spitting out a reply.

"I've done everything I can to make sure you don't return."

"I also know you two haven't been sleeping in the same room...that Sammy has barely even touched you since he tried to bury you alive."

"What does that have to do with oven mitts?" He pressed the side of his face against mine, his stubble scratchy as he brought the mitts close enough, I could smell the charred cotton.

"You've been craving me."

"You are sorely mistaken." He chuckled darkly.

"Come on darlin', just admit you missed me. I give you all the wicked things that Sammy cannot. All those dark things your soul is yearning for, practically screaming for." I shook my head in protest, but it did not stop my body from reacting to his words. He was right, being with Arioch was almost exhilarating. The fear kept me on my toes, but there was also an underlying excitement, the way his touch made my heart race, how he seemed to manipulate my body so masterfully while doing such terrible things to it, terrible things that made me ache for him. If we met under different terms, maybe on campus, if he were not holding me captive or trying to force me into domestication or utterly brainwashed by a religious cult, I could almost see myself falling madly in love with him.

"We'll see if you're still singing that tune by the time I'm through." He moved, but I remained bent over the counter. I felt the wooden spoon sliding across my naked flesh and my legs shook with dreaded anticipation. Arioch was right. For all of Sam's talk of having children, he had yet to sleep with me even once since my last escape attempt. At first, I felt relieved, then, a little hurt. Was he so angry with me that I ceased to be attractive? Was he trying to punish me by denying me even basic human touch?

"I'm here now, and I am going to give you exactly what you need," he whispered.

"Please, I won't do it again. I can make more mitts." He gently covered my mouth with his hand, the weight of his fingers holding back my next words.

"Shhh, don't waste your breath denying it, you're going to need it to count. You're not being punished for the oven mitts sweetheart, this, this is for being a filthy little liar." I whimpered but did not speak again. Maybe I deserved it, there had to be some part of me that was a glutton for punishment; otherwise why would I keep doing these things? But who told the truth all the time? Certainly, nobody in his family. The first one hit the fleshiest part of my ass with a loud smack and I clenched my hands into fists as I inhaled sharply and counted. The second swing hit the same spot only seconds later, then a third and by the fourth I stood upright and immediately turned my butt away from him, rubbing the heated flesh. He was not giving me time to absorb the pain, instead it seemed to stack, building until it was unbearable.

"No more, please. I'm sorry."

"Not yet you aren't." He pointed to the counter, twirling the spoon in his hand and though it took me several seconds, I obediently resumed my position.

The spoon hit the same spot again forcing me to bite my lower lip to stop a curse from slipping out. To my relief, strike six hit a different spot, as did each one after. The rest of the strikes came fast and hard and I did my best to count aloud and not fall behind while trying to stop the tears and snot from running down my face. By the time he declared us done I had counted 25, my ass was on fire and I shook as I sobbed, not brave enough to move yet. Every single strike seemed to throb in unison. I went to stand up straight and he pushed my head back down.

"No, no, no. Not yet. I'm going to give you what you've really been craving." I heard the familiar sound of his zipper, his skin cold against mine. Arioch groaned as his rock-hard cock slid between my pussy lips, and while the passage was slick, it was also tight, and I felt him fight for every inch. I shuddered, a strange guttural noise escaping, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as I was stuffed full. He held my hips as he started a slow pace, pulling out until only the tip was left before sinking the entire length back in, forcing me to either push back for resistance or get my knees slammed into the cupboards.

"If you wanted me to fuck you so badly, you didn't have to burn the oven mitts; there are other ways to get my attention...God, do you have any idea how good this feels?" It was my turn to scoff.

"Don't flatter yourself." I spat breathlessly. He pressed my face down, grinding my cheekbone against the countertop. I cried out in pain, but it only made me wetter.

"Deny it all you want; your cunt is practically dripping for me." he growled in my ear.

"I don't need anything from you." I snarled. The last thing I was about to admit was how amazing it felt to have him buried deep inside me. I had not realized how accustomed to his touch I had become or how much it even meant until he had taken it away. He kicked my legs even further apart forcing me to squeeze him tighter. I moaned as a hazy fog settled in.

"We both know that isn't true. You lie because you are wicked, wife, and it is only the righteous who can tame the wicked."

He picked up his pace, my abdomen clenching when he finally reached my sweet spot. My breath came in shorter gasps, my fingers clawing at the countertop as I tried to hold back. I did not want to give him that power over me, I did not want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

"Why must you fight? I always win in the end." With each word he thrust harder and faster until my body quivered so hard, I seemed to be almost vibrating.

"If you cum without my permission you will be sorry. I want you to beg me!" I shook my head again, not even sure if he could tell with my face pressed against the counter. I was so close I could almost taste it, and then he pulled completely away. I cried out, body following him a few inches before I managed to pull myself back. Damn him again!

"I can do this over and over until you do, KitKat. I think that is the real reason you won't surrender. You're afraid all this fun will go away."

"Go to hell!" I growled. I yelped as I felt the bite of the wooden spoon against my thigh.

"Language..." he scolded, but his voice held an edge of amusement. He teased me with the spoon, rubbing it against my clit, letting the pressure build and build before pulling away and hitting me with it.

"Your body is begging, it's only a matter of time before your lips do too. Don't you want to cum sweetheart?" When my legs began to quiver, he pulled away, waiting several agonizing minutes before starting back up again. He did it over and over until I could barely stand it. I wanted that release, that promise of pleasure that seemed to be just over the cliff, and he was keeping me on the edge of it.

"C'mon, beg me and I'll make you feel good." Just this once, you are never getting free, what do you have to lose? I closed my eyes shamefully as I licked my lips.

"Please." I barely spoke above a whisper, but he heard enough noise that he leaned forward.

"I know you can do better than that, I have heard your screams before. Beg me!" He smoothed over sweaty clumps of my hair so that he could look me in the eyes.

"P-P-Please." I begged, my plea a little louder this time.

"Please what?" I did not want to say the words, but I didn't want to feel this cavernous need inside me a moment longer.

"Please, m-m-make me cum."

"Gladly, dear wife." He slammed into me so hard my breasts slapped against the counter, matching the sounds of his hips slamming against my ass as he fucked me like a jackhammer.

I nearly sobbed with relief as I finally came, wave after wave of pleasure washing over every inch of me until I was nothing more than a limp ragdoll, eagerly awaiting his finish. He groaned as he released himself inside of me. He gave a few more angry thrusts, sending tiny tremors through my body and when he pulled away, I slid down to my knees, earning a chuckle from Arioch.

He was already pulling up his pants, rinsing the wooden spoon off before tossing it back in the drawer.

"Now, was that so damn hard?" I leaned my forehead against the cupboard, silent, feeling more relaxed than I had in weeks. When I made no signs to answer he nudged me with his boot.

"Fetch the bible and go sit by my chair while I pour us both a drink." Though I was not interested in drinking anything, I knew better than to argue. I was not going anywhere anymore, so why not? Holding onto the last sliver of myself did not seem as worth it as it once did. If anything, I resented it, it made my life harder. I pulled the bible from the stand beside his chair. There was a large pillow on the floor next to his recliner and I sat on top, holding out my hands in anticipation. With my recent death scare, Sam had begun pushing me to see just how far I was willing to go to obey him, testing my new resolve. He set both drinks into my hands before settling himself into the chair. This is how we started ending most nights, a nice drink by the fire while he read from his family's bible. With me passing him his drink whenever he held out his hand, refilling it when necessary.

I was only a few sips in when I began to feel sleepy. Good sex always had that effect on me. I must have started dozing because he pulled my head over so that it was leaning against his knee and began running his hands through my hair while he continued to read. I had one last thought of that's nice before I felt a foreign smile spread across my face and I slipped peacefully into darkness.

I struggled to open my eyes, feeling groggy and confused. Had I fallen asleep? I blinked a few times, vision still slightly blurry. It didn't make any sense; I hadn't done anything to deserve sedation and I was getting tired of it. I was lying in a prone position, my wrists tied together in front of me, my ankles and knees also restrained and there were a few ties around my torso, securing me to the passenger seat. The only thing covering me was a jacket. If he got pulled over, he was going to have a hard time explaining himself. I looked up, letting my eyes adjust. He sat behind the wheel; eyes focused on the road. I did not move right away, instead I took the opportunity to glance around. We were not in his truck, instead, a small car. Had he borrowed it from a cousin? Or had it been sitting out in the Yard? He had one hand on the wheel and the other resting lightly on the gear shift. The sky was darkening so I knew it had to be evening. Had I slept all day? Where was he taking me?

"Where are we going?" I asked, mouth dry. I could hear light traffic, and I fought the urge to sit up. Not that it would have done me any good anyways.

"Decided to take a little road trip. Cannot tell ya where, that would ruin the surprise. But do not worry, we'll be there very soon." He opened the glove box, pulling out a syringe. After biting the cap off and spitting it onto the floor, he jammed it into my thigh. Warm tingling flooded my senses as I slipped back under.

When I opened my eyes a second time, it was daylight. I noticed immediately there was something different about him. He wore the same button up shirt that Arioch usually wore, only it wasn't buttoned and one of Sam's t-shirts was underneath. His hair was combed, but not nearly as neatly as Arioch kept it. It was as if the two personalities had somehow melded together. Or maybe a third personality has emerged. I frowned. Why did I have to even think such things? I quickly prayed that was not true. I was still juggling the two, I would not be able to cope with a third. My bindings were gone, and I wore a short-sleeved dress, mustard yellow, covered in lilacs. It reached my ankles, but the sleeves were only down half my bicep. I had a small grey librarian sweater to go with it, giving me a modest look.

"Made that dress for the special occasion, do you like it?" I tried to smile and failed miserably. Whether it was the sedatives or the situation, my stomach was rolling. I wasn't secured to anything, every alarm bell in my head was ringing, something was wrong. I heard the words he spoke, but it was as if he spoke them through loud white noise.

"Where have you taken me?" He smiled excitedly.

"I have decided to give you a belated wedding gift...I'm going to let you say goodbye to your father." I gasped as if all the air was suddenly sucked out of my lungs, he leaned over me to pull the lever and lifted my seat. I closed my eyes, shaking my head fighting back fugitive tears.

"Please...please don't do this."

"I have given you a gift and you want to be rude?!" he demanded.

"Don't do this, don't hurt him. I am sorry I broke my promise. You don't need to prove anything to me." He held my face and wiped away a few tears, but I still felt my head spinning.

"You misunderstand, sweetheart. I have finally found a way to heal us, to bring us closer together. A way for you to prove your devotion to me. Because then, and only then, we can move forward."

"H-H-How did you even find out where I live?"

"It wasn't very hard; I kept your driver's license." I frowned trying to think back; what exactly had he burned? It seemed like every time I turned around there was something else of mine, he had kept.

"I figured since you're so good at lying, you get to convince your father you are madly in love with me, that you chose to marry me, move in and have my babies." Sick bastard. This was beyond cruel. I grabbed my chest tightly, it suddenly felt as though I couldn't breathe.

"And if I'm not convincing enough?" None of those things sounded anything like me, how could I convince my father without raising a single red flag? He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and gave me a violent shake.

"If you do not convince him, then I have no choice but to kill him. And if I kill him, there will be no one for you to return home to. Either way I win." A psychotic smile spread across his face, answering which of the two I was dealing with.

"Why are you doing this? You said I must give up my heathen life, forget about before and now you are dragging me back to it?! What would the conclave say?" I had not only been good; I had been nearly exemplary since he pulled me from death's doorstep. Minus the oven mitts of course.

"Are you threatening me, wife?"

"N-n-no, of course not." I shook my head; I had been hoping that thinking of the conclave would help him come to his senses.

"Only when you truly leave this life behind, can you embrace your life with me. You swore on his life you were not going to lie to me, but you did. You broke your word, and in less than a week after giving it. I could be a real bastard and follow through with my threatswithout letting you say goodbye. But I want you to have closure, I want you to be able to see him before he passes. Sparing him is my gift to you, granted that is if you manage to convince him. Now if you are feeling ungrateful, I can always change my mind." One look through blurry eyes and I knew he was not going to back down. This was really happening; it was not some nightmare I could wake up from. He held out a blue paisley handkerchief to me and I meekly accepted it.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to sound ungrateful. I don't deserve such a thoughtful husband, thank you." I knew what he wanted to hear, and it tasted like ash as it poured from my mouth.

"Dry those eyes up, there's a little make-up in the glovebox if you need it." I opened it; the make-up bag mixed in with a few loose syringes. All of them were carefully measured with the same amount of sedative, and I froze as I stared down at them. Temptation just a breath away and my fingers twinged with the urge. Do not be stupid, he is watching you.

"That's the quickest way to guarantee your father's death. Even if you managed to stab me with one of those, they are measured for your weight not mine, one won't be enough to take me down." Good to know. I sighed as I grabbed the make-up, there was no way I'd be fast enough to actually use it and with his eyes directly on me I couldn't hide one for later either. But I did make a mental note of it. I flipped the visor down, unsurprised to find red eyes staring back at me, and I began with the cover up. It was a little darker than my skin tone, making it obvious I was wearing it, but it was better than going without. I was not very skilled, and my hands shook a little as I tried to make myself look presentable. When I finished, I looked at Arioch for approval and he added a few last-minute touches before combing his hand through my hair several times.

"Gimme a smile KitKat, we want him to think you're in love, don't we?" I nodded, lip quivering as I struggled to smile. He climbed out of the car and my stomach filled with dread as he made his way around to my side. He opened my door and held out his hand, but I froze, legs unwilling to cooperate. I stared across the street at my Tudor style house and blinked back tears, my chest tightening again. It got harder and harder to breathe, I shut my eyes tightly, gasping as I leaned forward against the dashboard. This was unnecessarily cruel, and I was not sure if I could pull it off. What was he going to do if my father suspected? Worse, what if my father was in one of his moods?

"Please, please don't make me do this...I...I can't." He frowned as he grabbed my bicep and jerked me to my feet. I resisted but it did not make a difference.

"You know I won't try to run anymore...it's not too late to go home. Please, can't we go home? I do not need to see him; I do not want to see him; we don't have to take this risk. Please, I swear I'll be a better wife...I'll stop lying...I'll stop talking back...whatever you want." He pulled me to his chest, to onlookers he appeared as the comforting, doting husband.

"You better wipe those eyes before you start attracting attention. You don't want to drag any more innocent lives into this, do you?" I shook my head, wiping my eyes on the back of my sleeve as I tried to calm myself while hoping I didn't ruin the make-up.