The Farm Ch. 06

Liam's expression went from contemplative to questioning. It was a strange sort of questioning though. It looked almost pained. I realized he didn't believe me. He didn't believe me, but he wanted to.

"Tell me. I won't tell anyone. I want to know. I'm not going anywhere, am I? We might as well get to know each other – if you actually care to get to know yourwhores." I was goading him. I couldn't help it. I couldn't help but want to elicit strong reactions from him. Even if they had bad consequences. I wondered if I'd really learned my lesson.

He glared at me and said, "I should smack you for that. I take care of my girls."

"Prove it. Tell me why you left. Make me understand you."

He laid on the bed next to me, folded his hands under his head, and looked up at the ceiling and sighed. His demeanor had changed, he was no longer the ruthless, sadistic, Dominant. He was now just Liam.

"Alright. Since you wanna know . . . I was 21. I'd met a girl in town. We started dating . . . She was great – sweet, smart, sexy, but in an innocent way, the kinda girl you feel you need to be gentle with . . ."

"Wait- you started dating someone even though your family does all this?"

"Well, I didn't tell her anything. I kept it a secret. I never brought her home. I thought that maybe I'd just run off with her, leave this place behind. She was so good, she'd just graduated college, planned on teaching, loved kids. We'd talk about everything, for hours. I started thinking of proposing to her, leaving this altogether. And then one day, I lost her."

"How?"

Liam frowned and said, "Drew. He brought the truth out."

I raised my eyebrows at him and paused as I decided not to ask what I really wanted to ask – if he really would have been okay with giving me to Drew.

"What'd he do?"

"He'd met her a few times, we'd gone out drinking. One night I was supposed to meet her at a bar, and she never showed. I waited until closing. Then I come home, thoroughly inebriated, and start headin' to my room. I pass the drawing room – where you-"

"Uh-huh," I interrupted before he could finish his sentence.

"And there she was, with Drew, riding him on the couch."

"What?" I exclaimed. "That's awful!"

"Yeah, well, it gets worse. Drew's the firstborn so one would think this place would go to him after Pa retires from runnin' it full-time. But that's not the case . . . It's split between me and Drew."

"What about Fred?"

Liam laughed, "Fred's an idiot, he can't run shit. He don't want to anyway, he just wants the icing, none of the cake."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he signed over his share when he was 18."

"Wow that's dumb," I breathed. And then I immediately realized that even though Liam had called him an idiot, I wasn't necessarily in a place to be voicing that opinion.

Liam caught the deer-in-headlights look on my face and laughed, "It's fine. It's true, it was dumb."

I sighed in relief and said, "So this girl . . ."

"Annabeth," he said coldly.

"Annabeth . . . was fucking Drew on the couch?"

"Yep. Broke my heart."

"So she went after Drew thinking she'd-"

"Bitch was a gold-digger. A money-hungry slut. Her daddy had put her up to it, thinking he could get a piece. He was a regular client. Still is."

"Herfather?" What the fuck was wrong with this town?

"Yup. Money's money, Vivienne. And sex is sex."

Money and sex. That's all this place really was. It was easier to digest without looking deeper than that. I wondered if every client knew that each woman here had been brought here against her will. Or if it even mattered to them. Or if they knew and it turned them on more . . .

I stopped thinking about that and asked Liam to continue.

"So, I find them fucking, and I'm just standin' there watchin' her bounce up and down on Drew's cock like she was in a rodeo. She finally sees me standin' there and smiles this wicked, vicious smile that splits my heart in two, and tells me how much better he feels inside her, how many times she'd cum for him, how she was gonna let him cum all over her face . . ." Liam started laughing, almost maniacally, "And then Drew starts cumming right there, inside the cunt! And she starts hollering about how she's gonna get pregnant before she's married like some piece a trash – like she wasn't one already – and she punches him! So he pushes her off him and then drags her down to the dungeon. I follow him down and after he throws her into the cage, I punch him. We got into a huge fist fight right there."

"Who won?"

"I did. Drew's big but I'm a better fighter. Plus, I was drunk and enraged. Knocked him out cold."

"Jesus . . . How'd you find out her father had put her up to it?"

"Well, like I said, her father's one of our clients. So he comes by a week later and Pa shows him the new whore we got. . . . He begged and pleaded with us to let her go, said it had been him who told her to go after Drew instead a me, told us he just wanted to be part of the business, admired us, basically stroked our cocks for a half-hour or so. Then he told us he'd buy her. But he couldn't afford her. He begged us for forgiveness. And finally, when that all didn't work, he paid to fuck her."

"What?!"

"Yep. Paid to fuck his own daughter. The irony of that . . ." Liam shook his head. "What he'd once gotten for free, he now had to pay for. But you shoulda seen it, Viv. He was brutal with her, calling her a dumb bitch for screwing up their plan, smacking her around – we almost had to step in and take him outta there because he almost crossed the line a few times. She was in hysterics, beside herself, begging for his forgiveness. He paid to use her all day. Tortured her. Fucked her raw. Came all over her face as she cried . . ." Liam shook his head. "Fucked up. She was bedridden for a few days after that."

I was shocked. I had no idea what to say. Liam turned on his side and looked at me as he continued the story.

"I couldn't take being here with her here. My heart was still broken. She'd betrayed me, made me into a fool, pretended she was someone she wasn't. Gave me hope and then ripped it away. I couldn't bear to see her. So I left until they sold her."

"Who'd they sell her to?"

Liam shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. I just came back when it was over."

"How long?"

"About a year. They sold her off cheaper than most."

"What's cheaper than most?"

"Way less than what we'd charge for you."

"Which is . . ."

Liam didn't answer. I didn't push it. I asked, "So where'd you go for that year?"

"I travelled. Turned out to be a good experience. I went all over the country, even New York, where you're from."

I shifted my eyes away from him and said, "Yeah, that's what I was supposed to be doing untilthis."

Liam said nothing. I stared up at the ceiling with him.

I wished I could be that girl, the one who was so innocent men felt they had to be gentle with her, praise her, cleanse themslves of sin for her. But then, I balked at such innocence. I didn't believe it. And sure enough, it didn't exist – at least, not in Liam's story.

No, I was a slut. I had been a slut before I'd come here, that was true. I'd had no problem with being a slut. I loved being a slut. The problem with being a slut is that most men don't take your emotions seriously, they assume you'll never settle down, you'll betray them. Sluts are never cleansed of their sin, their sins follow them wherever they go. The innocent girls are steadfast to the core. They deny themselves even the thought of betrayal. They can't be corrupted. Sluts like me were already corrupt, we could never go back to being innocent because we never had been.

Sluts like me have a sort of wanderlust when it comes to relationships. Men don't believe us when we tell them we love them, because they know we'll stray – if not with our bodies, then with our minds. They don't believe that one can truly be in love and still want something else in addition to it, still want more. Everyone believes that Love is something to be shared only by two specific people, this be-all, end-all thing that means you've been chosen by someone else to be theirs forever, that means total completion. It's a sort of codependent ego trip. And total completion equals death.

There's a quote by poet Antonio Porchia:"In a full heart there is room for everything, in an empty heart there is room for nothing."Unfortunately, my heart was full. And that had complicated everything in my life. At this point, you could say being here was the perfect place for me. But it wasn't, because I had no choice in who I experienced. Maybe that made it more perfect still. Maybe I even deserved it.

And maybe I just never knew what I wanted.

But to have just one person treat me with kid gloves . . . What was that like? It didn't matter, it would never happen. I was wishing to be treated as something I was not, could never be. I was no Cinderella, no Juliet, not even Iseult. I was simply Vivienne Mills. And the men I had been with were no Prince Charmings, no Romeos, no Tristans – even though they liked to think they were. And here I was, laying next to someone who had also, for at least one moment in his life, wished to be something he wasn't.

He asked me what I was thinking about, which took me by surprise. So I told him, "I was just wondering what it's like to be innocent."

He laughed. "You ain't never been innocent in your life. Anyone can see that."

I frowned, "I know."

"It's okay, innocence is overrated."

"Is it?"

"Girls like you are way more fun."

Was he flirting with me? Didn't he know he didn't need to?

For a moment, I'd actually forgotten where I was. I looked into his eyes and sincerely said, "Thank you for telling me all that, Sir. I actually do understand you better now."

Liam smiled, and dragged his fingertips across my pelvis. I moaned and tried to move away quickly, having forgotten about the tender state of my ass and my thighs, and yelped in pain. Liam chuckled and stroked my hair. "You are always trying to run away, aren't ya?"

I curled up and pressed my face to his palm. What was he doing to me? No, I knew what he was doing to me. How was he doing it?

He got up and went into his drawer, and pulled out some rope. "Hold out your wrists. I'm gonna tie 'em so that you don't touch yourself."

"Please don't tie them! I promise-"

He chuckled. "You must really like begging. I like that about you. Come on, do it."

I sighed and held out my wrists. He tied them firmly, but not too tight.

I laid there, my wrists bound, my fingertips just touching my pussy, and watched him get up and take his clothes off. I felt myself get wet at the sight of him, and turned my head away.

He shut off the light and climbed into bed next to me. He lifted the covers over me and I twisted myself onto my side, ignoring the damned pain, and curled up next to him. I tried to close my eyes and fall asleep, but my heart started racing as my thoughts bounced back and forth from the outside world to this world, and I wondered how the two could possibly exist side by side.

* * *

It couldn't have been Stockholm Syndrome.

I'd spent the entire night mulling it over. I decided that Stockholm Syndrome was just a name given to an emotion deemed "illogical" in a given situation. In this case, Liam was both sympathetic and abusive, but was he really abusive? Could it really be called abuse when it had been something I sought on my own time? Don't get me wrong – I'm not saying that being taken against my will to be bred by rich rednecks had been something I really wanted. But the way he dominated me, the way he punished me . . . He was giving me something I'd always wanted. He was pushing my limits, physically and mentally. In this realm, I was getting exactly what I'd wanted for as long as I could remember. Perhaps those who had been diagnosed with Stockholm Syndrome were just afraid to admit to themselves that they liked being in a position where they submitted and suffered, because the enjoyment of such things is widely considered "illogical."

But to people like me, it's transcendental. It's spiritual. The deeper the suffering, the higher the rapture. To people like me, it makes sense to bond with someone who is giving us exactly what we want. That is, essentially, how relationships develop.

Sure, it sounds sick. Sure, I was a hypocrite. I had, after all, told John that girls who wanted to be ravished mentally – like I was now – were the ones I doled out meds to. I blushed at the ignorance of that statement. I wondered if John had seen through it. Up until now, I didn't know myself. And I was ashamed of that. And today, I couldn't do anything about it, I could do nothing to rectify it. Today, I'd become a whore.

I doubted Liam had realized what he'd done. I doubted he'd even intended to do it. But then again, he seemed to know what he was doing.

I wondered if Mindy had gone through the same thing with him. I didn't even know if I could ask her, if she'd ever talk to me again after tonight.

Liam stirred and turned towards me. I longed to touch him, to press myself against him, but I couldn't. I didn't want to disturb him. My thoughts once more went back to our shower, and I tried to bat the images away as they swarmed me. I was afraid I'd cum by thought alone. My pussy started aching as I once again felt his lips on my stomach, felt his fingers inside me, felt him filling me . . .

I groaned and clenched my thighs. I wished sleep would come to me, but as the early sunlight streamed through the blinds I knew it would be lost.

I shut my eyes anyway. Perhaps I could get away with sleeping through this whole day. I didn't want to be awake for it. I didn't want to become a whore.

I felt Liam's hand run down my side and I kept my eyes shut, pretending to sleep. When his hand reached my pussy, though, I looked at him.

"I knew you weren't sleepin'."

I said nothing and held his gaze. He pushed me onto my back and looked me over. I wanted to know what he was thinking. Instead I said, "Sir?"

"Yes."

"Why did you bring me to your room?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

I felt a strange sense of hope and tried to push it away. "What do you mean? Because you were punishing me. Why didn't you leave me strapped to the table?"

"Well . . . I couldn't just leave you alone after all that. It'd have been cold. I like taking care of my girls."

"Oh . . ."

Liam smirked. "You sound disappointed."

I ignored that. "What about Mindy?"

"What about her?"

"Well you let her go. By herself. Wasn't that cold?"

"Mindy was fine. She's a little pain slut, that girl."

"But still!"

Liam grew impatient. "Don't question me, Vivienne. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" I asked angrily.

Liam changed the subject. "You'll be expected at breakfast in a little while. And then-"

I snapped and interrupted him, "And then I'll become a whore, officially. Do you like that? Do you like not having a say in who breeds your slaves? Is that why you fucked me before you should have?"

Liam said nothing, and I went on. "That's it, isn't it? You had to claim me first, to make sure I knew who I belonged to. Did you do the same to Mindy?"

"No," he growled. "You'd better shut your mouth or I'll-"

I felt some relief at his answer, but I still challenged him. "What? You'll what? Come on. Show me."

Liam smacked my face and climbed on top of me. He lifted my arms above my head and kissed me hard, deeply. My body arched to meet his as my lips urgently returned the kiss. He slid his hand between my thighs and felt my wetness.

"You are such a slut."

"How could I be anything else for you?" It was an honest question.

He groaned and then climbed off me, leaving me confused and helpless as he went into his bathroom. I heard him turn the shower on and wondered if we'd shower together again.

But no. He left me there as he showered. He left me there dripping wet, simmering with need and frustration.

"What are you doing to me?" I whined. What was I falling into?

He didn't answer. I didn't know if he heard me. But I didn't repeat the question. I regretted it the moment it came out of my mouth. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of the certainty that he had gotten under my skin, the skin which I now wanted to crawl out of. I hoped he hadn't heard me.

When he came out he gave no verbal indication of having heard me give voice to my vulnerability. Instead, he walked over to me, untied my wrists, and said shortly, "Go shower. You'll be expected at breakfast soon."

"What? You mean alone?"

"You don't need my help, do you?"

"No . . . No, I don't."

"Oh and Vivienne . . ."

"Yes?"

"You still can't cum. Not until you're with your first client."

"Come on! How will you even know?"

"Because I'll be able to see it in your face. Now go. Use whatever you need."

I glared at him and carefully got off the bed. He smirked as he watched me, and I bit my lip instead of telling him to fuck himself. No, I would never be innocent. And I was fine with that.

I turned on the shower, testing the water with my hand until it was hot enough. It should have been cold. I stepped in and slid the glass door shut, letting the water drench me as I closed my eyes.

I washed my hair, and contemplated touching myself. As I scrubbed my body and waited for the conditioner to sink in, my hand crept between my legs and I massaged my clit for a few moments. I was ravenous. I couldn't help it.

But I thought of how Liam was right outside, and how Liam would probably know, and how Liam felt, and how Liam tasted, and-

I approached the brink. I was torturing myself. I had to stop. I had to stop! I ripped my hand away and rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, yanking the knots out. Then I grabbed his razor and shaved the three days of stubble from my legs and my pussy. It sounds odd that I would care about that, but I preferred things that way, and I needed to cling to some sense of pride, especially today.

I got out, dried off, and grabbed Liam's comb to comb out my hair. I used his mouthwash to rinse out my mouth. When I was done, I walked back into his room and found him dressed and waiting. He looked me over.

"You tried, didn't you," he said.

"I couldn't help it. But I stopped myself."

"Good girl. Look at you, you even shaved."

"Yes, Sir."

"Hmm . . ."

"What?"

"I'm regretting not havin' you for breakfast. Come on, we have to go."

"Can't I put something on? I'm naked."

"I don't have anything for you here. You'll just have to be naked."

"But then I'll have to explain why I'm naked!"

"So? Tell 'em. Tell 'em how you were punished."

"And how you brought me to your bedroom after?"

"Sure. Let them aspire to be more like you," he said snidely as he grinned. I glared at him. He smacked me lightly on the ass. I bit my lip at the sting.

We parted at the dining room where the other women were assembled. I didn't know what to say. I almost asked if I would see him later. I felt lost, suddenly.

"I'll come to get you before your shift starts."

"Oh. Okay."

He looked inside the room as I watched him and he said, "Don't worry. Mindy's not mad at you."

"I'm more worried about strangers fucking me, to be honest."

Liam put his hands on his hips and looked down at the floor. "I'll see you in a couple hours."

I watched as he walked down the hall and turned a corner, and then I went inside the dining room.

There were five more there today. Two of them were pregnant. Where had they all come from? How much more did I have to learn about this place?

I found Mindy and sat across from her, thinking of Liam once again as my ass touched the seat. Mindy was lazily stirring her coffee, her chin in her palm.

"Mindy."

"Yes, Viv?"

"Please tell me you forgive me."