Stranded Ch. 07

"Now, let's get back to work." He gave my butt-cheek a swift slap before turning around and disappearing, leaving me in a confused daze. Focus. I waited until I heard the screen door slam shut and grabbed the bundled-up bedding, taking it to the basement to wash. I pulled out Sam's clean bedding from the dryer, switched the wet clothes then loaded the washer again. Chores were not something new to me, I kept my side of the dorm room tidy, did my own laundry and even did some around the house whenever I visited home. I just didn't like to do them, but more than that, I resented being forced to clean up after a grown man who was equally capable of cleaning up after himself. The only reason he was making me do it was because I was a woman and his 'wife'; so, it irked me on two levels.

Skye had been right, keeping my hands busy and mind occupied helped time fly by fast. I had just finished folding another load of laundry when Arioch returned. I didn't need to look at him to know which one was in control, he was still dressed like Sam, but there was more hardness in Arioch's stare that I had yet to find in Sam's. Despite insisting they were the same person, I had clearly already separated them in my mind. Arioch seemed to be the dominant personality, but maybe that was only because I kept resisting. If I stopped fighting, would he fade away and cease to exist? I felt as though I barely knew Sam.

"Anything you'd like for dinner tonight?" he asked as he made his way to the fridge and began rummaging around.
"I haven't given it much thought." I admitted. My nerves were too frazzled to think about eating, I just wanted to survive long enough to get home, to see my father before he died.

"You're drifting off a lot today, still thinking about death?"

"I was thinking about my father," I replied, a little truth was all I needed. He had given me a rather useful tool and he smirked as if he seemed to realize it too. But the smirk disappeared almost immediately.

"Sounds like a waste of time; I already told you, that life is behind you. This is the only family you have." He announced sharply, pulling out a casserole dish that looked like homemade lasagna and preheated the oven.

"When that beeps, toss it in for 27 minutes, I'm gonna hop in the shower and wash up really quick."

I hardly moved as I listened for the running water. That meant his clothes would be on the floor which meant his keys would be as well. Excitement ran through me and it took all my self-control not to run up the stairs. I took long and slow strides, pulling some of the chain into my arms. I moved as quietly as anyone dragging a metal chain can, and I froze when I finally made it to his bedroom door. I could still hear running water and him humming a tune I didn't recognize. I opened the door slowly, tip toeing. I moved closer towards his bathroom, the door slightly ajar, as if beckoning me. I got down to all fours as I peeked in, steam having already fogged over the mirror. His jeans sat piled right by the door and I hesitated. How long had he been in there already? 5? 10 minutes maybe? How much longer before he was done? He didn't take long showers, especially if I wasn't in there too. Just do it already, do you really want to stick around here any longer than you have to? I slid my hand through the small gap in the doorway, confident I would be caught at any moment but not being able to stop myself either. As long as the water kept running, I pushed myself to keep going. If I had the keys, I could get the dirt bike, I could stop him from releasing his dogs because I would take the keys with me, I could give myself an actual chance.

In hindsight, it was arrogant of me to think such a hastily thrown together plan could work, that he wouldn't be vigilant of the one thing that could set me free. That is, if had gotten my hands on it first. My fingertips had just reached the coveralls when his hand enclosed my wrist and I was pulled into the bathroom, my head slamming against the cupboard beneath his sink. He rolled me onto my stomach and twisted my arm behind my back as his wet foot held my head to the floor. He was shaking his head and laughing in disbelief. Like he couldn't believe I was trying to escape.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?! You must think I'm some amateur. News flash, you're not my first wife darlin; I have done this before!" When I didn't respond he pressed down harder, smashing the right side of my face against the plush red carpet; at least it didn't smell like pee.

"Don't you get it by now!?" he yelled through clenched teeth, twisting my arm hard enough to make me scream, vision filled with white lightning as I listened to myself beg him to let go.

"My family has been doing this for generations." He screamed the last word in emphasis. "Did you honestly believe you could try something that no other wife hasn't already tried? My keys aren't even in there, you dumb bitch; they're around my neck. So, you did all of this, for nothing." It was pointless to fight in my position, any movement sent sharp pain radiating from my shoulder all the way down to my toes.

"Please, please, I'm sorry! I came to fetch your clothes for the wash."

"Sorry!? You weren't trying to wash my clothes, you nasty little liar! You tried to leave me again, I'm afraid sorry just isn't good enough this time. You're lucky your throat is bruised because I would be choking the shit out of you right now if I could." To emphasize his anger, he gave my arm another wrench, my vision went dark as more water rained down, soaking my dress.

I was an utter fool, I had panicked. I thought if I didn't seize the opportunity, that would be it. I was never going to get another one; now I knew the opportunity had never been there to begin with. He threw my wrist down to the floor and removed his foot, but I didn't dare move. He wrapped a towel around his waist, my vision swimming as I sat up. He pulled me to my feet and shoved me down the hallway and both flights of stairs, chain rattling behind me. The dim basement light flickered on and I gripped the rail tightly as I descended; walking into the center of the room, Arioch behind me. Not only was I a moron, I was possibly the stupidest person in the entire world. Of course the keys weren't going to be in his pocket. I had let the excitement of the idea take control and stopped using my head. After everything I had been through, the thought of going home had been overwhelming.

"I am always five steps ahead of you, darlin. Now sit down and give me your ankles." He pointed to the cot, the same one I had slept on while I was sick. What was he going to do to me? Would he use his belt or the cane? If he hadn't killed me yet, that was a good sign, right!? The bedding at least looked clean and I did as I was told. He pulled the dangling keys from around his neck and switched chains, locking the new one around my left ankle; the other side of the chain locked to a hoop planted into the cement itself. Generations, he had said, just how many generations? How many wives had been chained to this loop? I was pretty sure I didn't want the answer. I could feel myself shaking as I waited for the unavoidable punishment, it was coming any minute now.

But he simply grabbed the longer chain and after sending a dark ominous look my way, he made his way up the stairs.

"If you know what's good for you, you won't make a single sound for the rest of the night. You will not like it if I have to come back down here." He slammed the door behind him and I cringed as I listened to several different locks click into place. I brought my knees to my chest as I held my bunched-up dress against my mouth, letting the sobs break free. What have I done?

As night rolled in, the basement grew colder and I found myself grateful for the long dress. I pulled the blanket and pillow down from the cot, making a small bed beneath it. I wasn't brave enough to try and climb on it, although I knew it would be more comfortable and warmer. The springs creaked too loudly, and I was heeding his last words to me. I was still alive, and I took that as a good sign. I could hear his boot steps above and my mind ran in circles with endless ways in which he would punish me. I had spent so much time afraid lately that now all I felt was numb. My constant conflicting emotions were like a crazy roller coaster and I wanted off the ride. My eyelids started to droop when I heard the first deadbolt slide open. I crawled further under the cot and pressed my back against the cold cement wall. The time had finally come, this was it. I pushed the fresh tears back, determined not to let a single drop fall. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction! I knew the cot wasn't going to protect me, but I remained huddled beneath it anyways. He walked straight towards me in silence and the closer he got the faster my heart seemed to beat.

Had I made too much noise? I had been so careful to muffle my cries and to slide the chain so that it didn't clink too much. He stood in front of it, his feet facing me, and I watched him reach down, grip the frame of the bed and lift.

"Get up," he commanded, and I was too afraid to disobey. I climbed to my feet, keeping a few feet between us, hugging myself tightly as my eyes frantically searched the room for weapons all the while knowing there were none. When he had said he 'wife proofed' the house I had thought it a poor attempt at a joke, but it was clear they had done a sweep through the entire house. He dropped the metal frame against the floor and he knelt to unchain my ankle. I wanted to ask him what he planned to do with me, but I was too reluctant to discover the answer. He let it fall to the floor before heading back upstairs, with me silently in tow.

When we reached the living room I froze at the sight before me. The coffee table had been moved closer to the fireplace, a small pile of rope beside it and a half empty of Jack beside that. But what disturbed me the most was the giant tarp beneath it. My stomach dropped. This was it, he was finally going to kill me. He pushed me forward, but I collapsed to my knees, the room began swimming and a cold sweat trickled down my face as I shook in terror. I turned to Arioch, his eyes like two long dark tunnels. The longer I stared into them, the further into the abyss I felt myself falling. There was nothing in those eyes besides the reflection of the fire. He pulled me to my feet and dragged me over to fireplace, the plastic crinkling beneath us.

"Undress."

"What do you plan to do?" I inquired softly. I knew running wasn't an option, he had already proven himself faster and stronger than me; and I was beginning to think possibly even smarter than me.

"I will not repeat myself." Poisonous butterflies fluttered around madly, and my fingers trembled as I reached down to pull off my dress. I kept my eyes closed as I stood naked before him; if I didn't watch, maybe it wouldn't hurt as bad. Maybe he'd make it quick; although the sight of rope did nothing to ease my worries. It became clear he didn't intend to answer my question and I wasn't about to ask twice.

"Kneel." When I didn't lower myself quick enough his hand clamped down on my shoulder and he forced me down hard enough, I winced, biting my lower lip to prevent from crying out. He pulled a chair over from the dining room table and sat down beside me. I faced the fireplace, the shadows of the fire dancing across my bare skin. Arioch sat to my right, the faint scent of whiskey tickling my nose.
"I have been wracking my mind for a proper punishment as I am not quite ready to give up just yet, I see great potential in you." I continued to watch the glowing embers, waiting for him to continue.

"I want to forgive you KitKat, but first, I need you to prove yourself worthy of forgiveness." My eyes flicked around, what exactly was I going to have to do to prove myself?

"What would you have me to do?" My stomach knotted, and I was certain I was going to vomit all over his tarp.

"For starters, you will start addressing me as husband. I think the more you say it, the quicker it will sink in." I frowned. I didn't want to call him husband, I didn't want to call him anything really, but I knew there was little choice; not if I wanted to survive. By acting so rash I'd effectively fulfilled my biggest fear, what if that had been my last chance? Could it even be considered an opportunity if it was rigged from the start? I might never get him to trust me again...well at least not Arioch. I believed I still stood a chance with Sam.

"Give me your wrists."

"Are you going to kill me?" I turned to look at him as he leaned forward in his chair, dark eyes glittering.

"If I was going to kill you, you would already be dead. I would prefer it if I never have to kill you, it would upset me more than you seem to think it would. Now, hand them over."" He was cold and calculated, how could I assume he felt anything? It would only be upsetting in the fact he'd have to start all over again, it had nothing to do with me as a person; I was just a vessel for his unborn children and a maid for his house. I turned so that I was facing him, holding my arms out in front of me. He reached down, picked up the rope and after securing them tightly together he pulled something from out of his back pocket.

It looked like a bit you would use for a horse only, it wasn't metal, it was thick rubber. He placed in between my teeth, securing the straps behind my head effectively gagging me.

"You're gonna be grateful for that in a few minutes." It stretched my mouth open and my jaw began to ache almost immediately. He pointed to the coffee table and instructed me to lay on my back, ass facing the fire. I was grateful for the warmth, but I was still a little too close for comfort. The coffee table was cold, even through the thin sheet he had spread across the surface. Once I was in place, he grabbed the rest of the rope and slowly began tying my ankles to the bottom of the table legs, spreading them open, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. The last section of rope was tied to the rope around my wrists, then stretched to be tied to the other end of the coffee table, stretching my arms above me. I was helpless to him now and he smiled deviously.

"I wanted a punishment that would teach you once and for all, exactly where you belong." He disappeared into the kitchen and when he returned, he was holding what looked like a fire poker, but instead of a sharp pointy end it was a fancy letter G with a few pieces of ivy surrounding it. It looked like a cattle brand and a sick feeling washed over me as I realized what my punishment was going to be.

"You don't have to do this, I'm not going to run anymore." But with the bit in my mouth all that came out was garbled words and drool.

"Don't bother, nothing you say or do is going to change my mind. If you fight me too much, I will brand your face." He pressed the old metal into my cheek as he stated the last part.

"Nearly every man in our family brands their wives. Every time you look at this mark you are going to remember that you belong to me." He placed the G into the fire and he sat down on the table above my head. I shook my head, trying to plead with my eyes but he only chuckled and smoothed a piece of hair from my face.

"I've only done this once, but I do know what I am doing." I cursed him, but I only sounded like a babbling drunk with the bit in my mouth. The sound of the crackling fire only pumped more anxiety through my veins. I had gotten the occasional burn from cooking, but I had a feeling this was a million times worse. It took nearly ten minutes before the brand began to glow a bright red and when he stood and began to put on thick work gloves, I felt my lungs constrict. Every alarm in my head was going off at once, screaming at me to run, to get away, I started to pull on my restraints.

"You're going to need to calm down and hold still, KitKat." But that only seemed to send my thoughts spiraling further.

I continued to pull, thoughts consumed with the need to flee. He pressed a boot against my chest, holding the brand only inches away from my cheek, heat pouring off the hot metal.

"I will brand your face, now be a good girl and hold still. It would really suck if I had to do it twice." He moved the brand up and down the length of my body, anxiety rising with every pass. Before I had a moment to prepare myself, I felt searing pain emanating from my left thigh, rippling outwards, devouring all my senses. While it only touched me for a matter of seconds, the pain didn't subside with its removal. That was the problem with burns, the hot blazing pain seemed to pulse, fading as it rippled out only to start all over again and I knew nothing I did was going to make it stop. Tears cascaded down my face, and I coughed as I choked on thick saliva that gathered in my throat. I ground my teeth on the rubber bit as I tried to think through the torment being afflicted on me. He set the poker down beside the fireplace, peeling off the gloves as I stared at the ceiling through blurry eyes. He reached behind my head and unbuckled the gag. I pressed my lips tightly together to keep them from trembling, but it was of no use.

"This is where you belong, nothing you do is going to change that. Let this be the last reminder I have to give you."

Another trip to the kitchen and he returned with a small clear jar full of what looked like Vaseline. It smelled faintly of lavender and lemons. He kneeled between my legs and began to slather it over the burn. My chest heaved with sobs as he wrapped it with a bandage, his hands resting on my naked thighs. Arioch smiled, then plunged his fingers inside of me. I gasped, his digits cold in comparison to the ardent need between my legs.

"You continue to astonish me, dear wife. Tell me, were you this wet before or after I branded you?" he asked, his voice thick with arousal.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, pulling at all my restraints at once; the wooden legs creaked from beneath the table. He slapped his hand over the bandage and it felt like I was being burned all over again. I gasped as I forced myself to stay conscious, but it was like swimming against the current, it wanted to pull me under. I was beginning to think I should let it.

"If you didn't fight me, I wouldn't have to be so violent. You could make this easier on yourself, if you would just start behaving like a good wife." He thrust his fingers in and out as he spoke, starting with a slow tempo as his other hand slid their way up to my breasts, he rolled a nipple between his fingertips, giving it a sharp tug sending a wave of pleasure through my body, intermingling with the pain. He reached down and released the ropes binding my ankles, then lifted my legs, my knees resting in the crook of his arm. His jeans were already open, his cock was free, and I watched as every single inch slid inside me, forcing my body to accommodate.

He bent my knees towards my face, stretching the burn, and my skin felt as though it would tear right open. Arioch paid no attention to that as he began fucking me into the table. He moved fast and hard, as if he was trying to fuck away his anger and I just happen to be the recipient.

"You do this to yourself," he growled, letting my branded leg fall to the floor as he bent the other one a little further, prying a whimper past my lips. I wanted to beg him to stop, to plead that it hurt too much. But this was my punishment after all, so the intention was for it to hurt. My face began to flush as my body started climbing higher and higher, seeking that final peak where I knew I'd find ecstasy. He leaned over, practically bending me in half as he grabbed my breasts, digging his fingers into them as he pulled me into his thrusts, his hips slammed into me with loud wet smacking sounds. I could feel myself getting closer, the pain began to fade ever so slightly. Moments later my body seized as an orgasm came crashing down. It was all too much, the searing pain, the intense euphoria; I screamed as it overwhelmed my brain and I had no other choice but to give in. I was trying to push the sensation away, I didn't want it; at least not from him. But my eyes rolled into the back of my head regardless, and he finally came, filling me with his warm seed. He stayed buried inside me as he stared down, my knee now resting on his shoulder.