This is a story I've already published to literotica and fetlife.
As we stepped onto the back porch I slowly came back to myself.
“Where are you taking me now?” I asked bravely. My stomach dropped at the thought of it, I’d let my anger get the best of me. My parents used to do that all the time, especially when arguing. I wasn’t their daughter I became a commodity, something they could use against one another. While they were not officially divorced, they still slept in separate bedrooms and barely said a word to one another.
“You messed up big time sister Skye. There are consequences for your actions!” I started to toss myself around, causing Christopher’s grip to slip just a little.
“I am not something to own or train. I am a goddamn human being.” He whipped me around and backhanded me so hard I almost fell over. He grabbed me by the bicep and practically dragged me towards the barn.
“You are Skye now; you will join with Clyde and become his wife. You will love, honor and obey him; provide him with children. That is your duty as a woman!”
“You’re wrong, the real world doesn’t work like that,” I argued, putting my feet down as we got closer.
“They’re all sinners; our way of life is to get us closer to heaven. You should be grateful Clyde chose you. What you did to him….if he wasn’t the kind man he is, you’d be dead. You know, it’s pointless to fight Skye; you’re stuck here, forever. Sooner you get used to it, the sooner it becomes easier on you.”
“I will NEVER stop until I’m free or dead,” I retorted. Christopher leaned in really close, his face a breath away from mine.
“Be careful what you wish for,” he muttered. We passed the doorway to the barn. I set my feet up against the door and pushed back with all my strength. He pulled back, turned and backed into the barn. To our right was a row of horse stalls. On the opposite end of the barn was a large loft covered in hay. Before us was a large round wooden spool. Attached to it were chains and cuffs. Turning around he forced me down face first, holding me down with just his weight, I was bent over the spool, legs almost dangling off the edge. While he was only a few inches taller than me, I hadn’t thought him to be so heavy. I pushed against him, I tried to kick him but he wiggled his way between my legs. I felt him press himself against me and I could tell my struggle excited him. He pressed right against me, grinding his hips. I tried to head-butt him but he slammed my face against the wood, sending a spark of white light across my vision.
“Don’t fight it Skye; you want it…all women want it in the end.”
“You’re delusional if you think I’d ever want anything from you,” I spat. Then I felt his hand ride up my thigh, lifting my dress, his fingers dancing dangerously close to places it wasn’t supposed to be.
“Please, stop.” The words were out of my mouth and I hated myself for it. He chuckled
“I see what makes you obey.” His dug his hands to the meat of my ass and squeezed so hard I yelped.
“I won’t tell anyone if you just let me go.”
“You’re like a broken record Skye, you’re never going home. I will KILL you before I allow you to leave me.” Clyde spoke, as he entered his voice was cold and calculated. I shivered as his words sank in. He walked around so that I could see him, his hand was heavily bandaged and he had a half bottle of Jack Daniels in his good hand. He set it down beside my head as he maneuvered the cuffs to hold me down. With only one usable hand it took him a while before he got them on; but he managed.
“You don’t want me…there has got to be someone else more suited for your needs.” I didn’t wish this fate on anyone, but at that point i just wanted to go home.
“I don’t WANT them Skye, I chose YOU,” he yelled as he picked up the Jack Daniels. Conflicting emotions rolled through me, when I didn’t respond Clyde continued on with his rant.
“Now, my future wife, I am going to teach you the proper way to punish someone who needs a lesson on proper wife behavior.” He pulled his pocket knife and flicked open the blade, moving behind me he cut open my dress exposing my entire backside; his hands lightly tracing my spine.
“Christopher, grab the whip. please” I felt faint.
“This particular whip has a lot of history Skye; my Daddy made this whip himself and broke in 8 wives with it, my momma being the first. And it has tasted the flesh of every single wife since.” I pulled on my restraints, trying to turn my wrist so that I could maybe unbuckle the restraint, but Clyde only laughed at me.
“Now I’ve given a few lashings but since my dominant hand is…incapacitated, Christopher will be doing the lashes today.”
“I don’t know Clyde, I’ve never…” Was that hesitation I heard in his voice?
“Either you whip her little brother or you can take her place!” Clyde responded. He was drunk and angry, that was all Christopher needed to hear. He grabbed the whip from the pegs on the wall and stood behind me. A quick glance told me it was leather, a little worn around the handle. It was thick at the bottom but got thinner and smaller towards the end, I tried to bury my face into the wood. The loving gentle Clyde was gone now, his blue eyes cold as ever as he stared down at me and took another sip of his booze.
“50 Lashes, you will need to aim for the fleshy parts if you can, begin.” The first was sharp and intense, pain radiated out from the burning path left in its wake; I bit my lip and sucked in a lungful of air.
“Count them Skye.”
“Go to hell,” I growled through clenched teeth.
“Count them or you will be whipped until I see bone,” he growled back, bringing his face closer to mine. I could smell the booze on his breath and I almost gagged.
“One!” I spat. Each one seemed to hurt more than the last. My screams echoed in the empty barn, throat quickly getting hoarse and raw as my back. The 17th lash broke the skin a little, I could feel small trickle of blood running down my back, almost cool against the heat of my flesh. By the time we got to 49 I was barely hanging onto consciousness. I was hysterical, begging, pleading, and swearing to let them do whatever they wanted if they stopped now. And at that point I really would have done anything just to make it stop. Surely they would kill me if they continued any further.
“Keep counting Skye, or we will start over,” taunted Clyde. I tried to mumble the last one, but my voice was gone and I’d been crying so hard I could barely calm myself down enough to breathe let alone count. Clyde set the empty Jack Daniels bottle down next to my head and leaned in. He shifted some hair away from my face and leaned in close enough I could see the anger in his eyes.
“After everything I’ve done for you Skye and you stabbed me. Not only did you stab my hand, you did so in a room filled with my family….my nieces and nephews…my mother. 50 was me being generous, only the Lord knows why, I certainly don’t, you sure don’t deserve it,” he scoffed.
“I’m sorry…” I apologized, voiced cracked and barely above a whisper. He laughed but it wasn’t because he was amused.
“You’re sorry? Did you hear that Christopher? She’s sorry…” He slammed his injured hand against my face, leaving behind a smudge of blood.
“How the hell is sorry going to fix my hand? Our life here depends on farm work, if I have only one hand how am I to help? But did you think about any of that when you did this to me? Of course you didn’t, you’re just a selfish bitch!” he yelled. I closed my eyes against the fresh tears.
“And I’d do it all again if given the chance, only next time I’ll aim for your throat,” I yelled. How dare he try and say that I was selfish. He kidnapped me, took me away from my friends, my family and everything I’d ever known all because he believed I was meant to be his. He roared in anger and walked around behind me.
“Clyde, I don’t think that’s a good idea…” I heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I looked over my shoulder to see Clyde taking the whip away from Christopher who wiped blood from his lip. He looked over at me, shook his head and left. It was just Clyde and I now.
“This may not be my dominant hand, but this will still hurt,” he warned. There was no warning, no counting; he started whipping my back, one right after the other. I didn’t think there was any way I could still scream, but they were torn from my throat at the pain. When my vision started to tunneling I didn’t fight it. I looked forward to the comforting darkness. Then suddenly it stopped, and I heard scuffling behind me.
“Let go of me,” growled Clyde. I didn’t have enough strength left to even look to see what was going on. I closed my eyes and tried to listen. A few blows were exchanged, Clyde was breathless and out of control.
“Don’t be an idiot brother. As much as I hate her, you would never forgive yourself if you killed her now.” My eyes shot open, it was Georgie. What the hell was he doing out here? And why was he trying to stop Clyde? He was the one always trying to get him to ‘discipline’ me more.
“This is none of your damn business! Give that back to me and go attend to your own wives.” Clyde growled.
“I will not give this back until you’re sober enough to use it with a clear head. I am looking out for you brother.” I heard footsteps and the barn door slam shut. Clyde mumbled some curses as he stood, body swaying at the effort of trying to remain balanced. I gasped as he fell on me, he leaned his head against the back of mine.
“Why do you make me do these things to you Skye? Why can’t you be a good wife and do as you’re told?” he asked, words slurring. I pulled on the restraints again, chains rattled at my futile attempts. When I didn’t reply his hands grabbed my arms, squeezing until I was sure he’d break them.
“Why can’t you just love me?” he yelled. He was angry, but underneath that he sounded genuinely hurt. He honestly didn’t understand why I didn’t love him. Why stealing me away hadn’t won my heart and obedience.
“This isn’t the way you get someone to love you Clyde,” I whispered. He roared in anger again, slamming his good fist onto the wood just inches from my head.
“I’ll make you love me…I’ll make you beg me…” I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and I started to panic. I wasn’t sure what his intentions were until he tilted my hips up and I heard him spit. I felt something cold press up against me. I cringed as I realized what was about to happen and knowing there was nothing I could do to stop him. There was no easing, no gentleness as he rammed his full hard length into me. The pain was like nothing I’d experienced before; none of the abuse I’d suffered up until that moment compared to the sharp slicing pain that spread through every nerve in my entire body. It felt like he was literally tearing me apart from the inside. I felt that barrier of my virginity give way to his forceful thrust. He moaned and just held himself there, buried inside me, stretching me to impossible lengths. I couldn’t scream, couldn’t even breathe over the overwhelming pain. When he finally pulled out I gasped for air, body trying to scream but there was no waiting for him. He buried himself back inside me, slamming his pelvis against me. I pulled at the restraints until they dug into my skin; he grabbed a handful of hair and held my head down as he savagely pounded into me. I closed my eyes as I tried to be anywhere but right there.
I had once imagined a bed with rose petals and something more loving and gentle with someone I was madly in love with, and to lose it like this, I felt hollowed out, empty as he used my body to find his own release. I listened to his grunts, his words as he cursed me and ground my head against the wooden spool when I wasn’t responding in a way to please him. When Clyde finally came I could feel the heat of him coating my insides and he just stood there, body propped up by him just holding my head into the wooden spool. I was motionless and numb now. When Clyde finally pulled away he laughed, he actually laughed.
“Guess Georgie owes me 20 bucks, you were a virgin,” he announced. I could feel fluids draining from my body, down my leg onto the floor of the barn but I didn’t move; I didn’t speak. Clyde stood off to the side and just stared down at me. Blood stained the crotch of his jeans and I closed my eyes against the image. I’d honestly thought I could come away from this without losing my virginity, I could have convinced him somehow, could have escaped somehow. Now I wasn’t sure about anything, Clyde had raped me, Georgie had stopped Clyde from killing me and Christopher had twice tried to talk Clyde out of punishing me. I wasn’t sure how long I lay there as he simply stared at me.
I was awoken from my dazed state when I felt Clyde undo the cuffs but I simply dangled there, feeling drained of strength and emotion. Lifting me up Clyde wrapped me in a horse blanket and carried me into the house. Cane was in the middle of chasing his sister around the table when we entered; he froze at the sight and watched as Clyde carried me down the hall and towards the bathroom. He sat me down on the counter while he prepared a hot bath. The tub was giant iron claw foot tub that was larger on one side as to allow more than one person to bathe at the same time. The claws and faucet were brass colored and I simply watched him test the water, add some bath salts and started to strip himself. I looked away, disgusted at the sight of him covered in my blood; he unfolded the horse blanket and helped me into the tub first before sliding in behind me. When the tub was almost to the point of overflowing he shut the water off. The hot water stung all my open wounds as though they were being rubbed with salt. He pulled me back to lean against his chest and I didn’t fight him; didn’t matter how hot the water was, I was still cold. He picked up a washcloth that had been hanging over the side of the tub and began to wash me.
His touch was gentle now as he washed the dirt and blood from my body. He started with my hands and arms, working his way down to my chest. He tried to soothe me as he washed up the damage he’d done in the barn. I whimpered at the pain but didn’t utter a word. I didn’t trust myself to say anything anymore. When we were both clean, he dried and dressed me into an odd pair of underwear and another handmade dress. By the time he finished brushing my hair a bell went off and Clyde smiled.
“Dinner Skye. Let’s not have a repeat of lunch?” I shook my head as he led me to the table. The blood was gone; no trace to say it had ever even happened except for the large gauge in the wooden table. When I sat down I winched and stifled a moan, then I noticed I had no silverware, but I didn’t care, I wasn’t hungry. Christopher’s cheek was red and he glared at his plate as though he was trying to set in on fire with his hatred. Georgie was bouncing the baby on his knee and making raspberries on his cheek. The woman all obviously avoided looking at me but it was Mama who stared at me, with a cold steely eyed gaze.
“Time for prayer,” she announced, holding out her hand. I held mine out shakily, and she gripped it so tight I was sure she was going to break the bones in my hand. I bit my lower lip and whimpered. Clyde held my other hand and everyone else lowered their heads, except for Mama and I.
“Dear lord, we want to thank you for the bounty laid before us; for our family, we ask that you bless each and every one at our table and forgive us for our weaknesses,” she aimed a look at her son, Clyde met her gaze and looked away guiltily. “In the Lord's name we pray, Amen.” Everyone around the table repeated Amen and then began to eat. I looked down at the meatloaf and potatoes, I glanced over at Clyde.
“You will earn your silverware back Skye, until then you can eat with your hands like the children.” I pushed the plate away.
“I’m not hungry,” I replied.
“You will need your energy for later Skye; we are not putting our wedding off just because you stabbed me.”