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An Unwanted Union (sispuppet and Bella)

LaBellaMia

Star
Joined
Jan 22, 2014
Location
East Coast, USA
1965- Rural Utah

"Your father is eating dinner with us tonight," Farrah's mother Ella was saying as she fixed her hair in the mirror, smoothing out her best dress and trying to look as presentable as possible. Farrah watched her primping herself in front of the mirror. Her mother was a pretty woman, slender despite having birthed five children with brown hair and brown eyes and porcelein skin that was slightly wrinkled at her eyes, being that she was forty years old. Farrah was her youngest child and only daughter and mirrored her mother but with a more fragile appearance and more slender frame. The major difference in facial features however, were Farrah's eyes that were a beautiful violet color, vibrant and unique. Her mother called them witch eyes but Farrah thought of them as her best feature, discounting her waist length ebony hair that shown well against her fair skin. Her father didn't even have those violet eyes but the black hair she had certainly gotten from him though in recent years his hair had been more gray than it had been black. He didn't come to see her mother often. He had his own house and would summon her mother to him if he desired her company but today was different. Farrah could sense it but how it was different she didn't know.

"Go...go set the table Farrah, quit being such a lazy girl," Ella snapped and Farrah frowned before turning away and walking downstairs to the dining room. With her brothers old enough to wife and work, they were all out of the house now and it was only her mother and herself that tended the garden and kept the house clean. So was the life in their commune. It was comprised of six hundred or so people living in a compound that stretched across twelve square miles. No one in the commune was allowed multiple wives except her father and when he was asked, he would only say because it was by the will of God. Women weren't allowed to learn to read or write and their main use was to bear children and care for the household. In the central most part of the compound was a large church that housed all of the members of the conservative community every sunday from dusk until dawn. Marriages had to be approved by her father and those that were considered sinful often times were given a public beating. Farrah didn't understand why her mother loved this place. Farrah hated it. She hated that every aspect of her life was controlled by the man that had sired her. Hated that she couldn't leave the compound, ever.

The only time her father had shown her any attention growing up was when she had been trying to learn reading along with her brother Lucas and he had caught her and beaten her for it, saying a woman didn't need to learn. But that had only strengthened Farrah's ire and she could read now but she didn't dare let onto it for fear of being publicaly stripped and beaten in the square by the church.

The commune was quite self sufficient. Everyone had their own gardens and the men went outside the commune to farm cattle and sheep. Every house had a chicken coop and there were enough chickens to harvest eggs and to sometimes kill for food. The best nights were when they had pork as it was the rarest of meat they were given when they went up to the market to get neccessities like spices, sugar and flour and judging by the smell as she entered the dining room, it was exactly what they were having for dinner.

Other rules of the compound for women included dress. If a woman was unmarried, her hair had to be loose and falling down her back, no matter what the length was. Unmarried girls also could only wear white dresses, a symbol of purity and if a girl was found to be impure on her wedding night, she was publicaly beaten once a day for three days before being disowned by her husband and sent to the pleasure house. Women were the cause of the first sin and therefore deserved punishment. Men were allowed to attend the pleasure house whenever they desired and the women within had to give themselves up to whatever man wanted her as punishment for being a harlot. Married women always wore their hair braided or pinned off their neck but when it came to dress, could wear any color of conservative dresses they had or made themselves.

There were a lot of rules for the women to be sure and Farrah couldn't stand the fact that she always had to dress in white dresses and even when summer was at it's hottest, her hair had to be down on her neck and back, only making her hotter still. As she set the table, her mother came down, straightening out her simple homestitched blue dress and then went to the kitchen to finish dinner. Farrah watched her go and then heard the sound of the door opening. Quickly she went to the front room and then saw her father standing in the doorway.

"Good evening father...." she said simply, feeling no real affection toward a man who had scarecly ever payed her any attention. Approaching him, she took his coat, hanging it up and then smoothing out her white dress. It was cinched at the waist with a belt, showing off her slender frame without being vulgar and hinted at the curves of her breasts beneath the simple fabric. "Mother's just finishing supper." She cleared her throat and then realized she was walking around barefoot like a heathen and flushed, hoping he didn't mention that fact as she swiftly put on her slippers that were by the door. Only heathens went around barefoot after all. It was easy enough defying him when he wasn't around and her mother often chided her for her sinful ways but she preferred being barefoot to wearing thin and uncomfortable slippers. Just as she preferred tying her hair up when the sun was high in the sky. Nothing she ever did was right when it came to being a model daughter and follower of her father's words and laws.
 
Father Matthew considered himself to be a fair and just man. He was a prophet to his people, and through his guidance, he would lead them all to salvation. So it is of course the will of God that he be given certain liberties his own people must stay away from to avoid falling to sin. He is not so easily corrupted. Being married and descended from him is a great honor. After all, it guaranteed them a spot next to him in heaven. Each wife was even given her own fine house in the village, second in size only to his. They were offered the finest clothes, and first choice of produce during each harvest as well, as a more immediate reward for being of service to the father.

He had started with just a small church, all those years ago. After finding those all those flaws in the bible and correcting them, he and his small group of followers slowly grew. By making these corrections, he discovered his true purpose in life. He would complete the mission given to him and lead people to salvation. They were all but ignorant children, in need of a father to raise them. Through the donations of his generous people, they were able to establish a small residence for themselves away from the filth and lies of the city. Now, the compound was almost the size of a small city, and the people knew their cause was just. God had blessed them with fertile lands, allowing them to live by their own hands instead of needing the large factories that plagued the rest of America.

Father buttons up the white shirt of his suit, near identical to almost every outfit he wears. It was important to keep himself looking presentable in front of his children after all. Tonight, he had promised to have dinner with one of his wives. It had been odd, as she had requested that he come to visit her. He wondered what would be so important that she was not able to do her womanly duties and simply come to her husband, but it wouldn’t do for him to get angry at his wife if she needed him. Women were the first sinners after all, and as such especially vulnerable to temptation. They needed his guidance more than any man. It was also why the pleasure house existed. A woman must stay pure until she is wed, and then must only give herself to her husband whenever he wishes. Those who stray from that purpose had only one way to redeem themselves. They must give themselves up to serve God. Any man who finds himself tempted could use the pleasure house without fear of dishonoring or tainting an innocent woman. It was a noble effort that could save many men from falling to temptation, and would work to redeeming women for bringing forth the original sin.

On his way out, the father spots his son walking home from the market. Michael was the spitting image of his father at his age. A young, tall, fit man with short black hair. He was smart and athletic, a hard worker, and very charismatic in his own right. Being the father’s first born son also left him with quite a lot of responsibility. Despite being the leader of these people, father Matthew knew he still had the body of a human. One day, God would see fit to take him from this world. Saving people would not end with him though. On that day, his son will take over in leading the people, becoming the father who would guide them to salvation. Matthew took great care in grooming him as such, and from a young age, Michael would follow the father around in order to understand the things that would be expected of him when he inherited the position.

The father feared for his son though, more than he did for any other person in his church. The boy had a smile that was infectious, and brought joy to those who saw it. Lately though, it had become rare to see him smiling. He seemed to become solemn and distant, taking to reading his books in silence. The father was afraid that the things he read may lead him astray. The devil would like nothing more than to hurt the father by taking his first son from him. Matthew redoubled in his efforts to keep his son on the right path. The boy had yet to make himself a man. He had taken no wife, and never even visited the pleasure house. The father feared what this could mean. If his son favored the company of men instead, then he could offer him no salvation from that great sin, and would be forced to exile him to protect his people. He calls the boy over to him. He was still obedient at least. “What is it, father?” He says politely, though there was a look of agitation on his face. The father tries to ignore this for now, hoping that his son was simply going through a phase. He explains that he would not be making it to a seat meeting tonight, leaving Michael in charge for this one. He would expect a proper report of it in the morning.

The boy walks off, promising to do his best. That was good to hear. Despite his attitude, Michael still put in the effort. Appeased for now, the father continues to his wife’s home. Stepping inside, he’s surprised to be greeted by a vision of youthful beauty. Farrah was in truth, one of his younger children. His first wife had only given him two boys. His second had yet to give him any children, and she seemed unlikely to do so. That was deserving of his pity, for he knew there was no greater shame a woman could suffer. Ella had proven very fertile though, giving him five children in as many years. Farrah had proven to be a difficult birth though, and now the two were careful to spare Ella further risk and pain. His fourth wife had given him three children already, and now his youngest, a toddler of only two, was happy and healthy.

Farrah was a troublesome child, he could just tell. Her bewitching eyes trapped men in their gaze, and her body screamed of sin. He was worried of what may happen. To have one of his own daughters end up in the pleasure house would be a horrible fate. He had caught her trying to read once before, a dangerous thing for someone susceptible to sin to do. Now she was moving around barefoot as though she were used to it. He wondered just how comfortable the young lady got when no one could see her. He nods silently as a return to his daughter’s greeting before moving inside, heading straight for the dinner table. Ella finishes preparing it and waits, knowing that it was wrong for the woman to sit before her husband. The father takes his seat, and Ella hurriedly pours him a glass of wine before putting the bottle away. Women weren’t to partake outside of communion, and special events after all.
 
Farrah watched him as he walked straight into the dining room and then sighed, turning and shutting the door before walking into the kitchen. Her mother ordered her to fix two plates and then went into the dining room to no doubt pour the man some wine. Apparently, it would only be the two of them that ate together this night and Farrah would be taking her meal alone. With a sigh, she quickly made a plate of the braised pork with wild rice and fresh asparagus before making another and then entered the dining room as her mother finally took her seat.

"Farrah, take your dinner in the kitchen. I mean to speak privately with your father," she ordered and Farrah nodded before setting both plates down. She stole a glance at her father before slowly moving back into the kitchen and shutting the door behind her. Ella waited a few moments after she was gone and prayers were said before speaking. "Husband...I asked you to come over tonight because I am worried about the soul of our daughter. She is a very rebellious and sinful girl...and doesn't follow the rules that you have put forth. I have caught her with her shoes off as though as she as some heathen, she talks back and questions your will. She wears her hair up and daydreams when she is supposed to be working in the garden or doing chores....and she tempts men with her witch eyes. After church, they watch her and she smiles at them like a wanton. I have made sure that she is innocent, I keep her close to me and lock her in the house if I go to market but I cannot guide her...she is sixteen...perhaps if it suits you, she can have a husband now. One to guide her where I cannot. Surely a husband would offer more guidance than any I would ever give her..." she said, reaching forward, placing her hand over that of her husband, looking trusting in his will.

Ella had been an impressionable young woman when she had come to be his wife, beautiful and enraptured with the charismatic church leader and when he had asked her own father for her hand in marriage, she had readily agreed and had always been devout to him, being one of his more blessed wives with four sons. But the daughter was an issue. She was nothing at all as her sons and sinful and Ella feared for the girl's immortal soul and certainly didn't wish to see her placed in the pleasure house. No, a husband would be better. A man strong enough to teach her how to be properly subservient to the will of himself, her father and God.

After a moment, she withdrew her hand from his and then sipped at her lemonade. "I find the matter to urgent to be ignored otherwise I would not of insisted you come here. I want what is best for her and thought your presence and your words might instill more in her than her rebellious and sinful nature."
 
The father watches his daughter closely as she walks off to the kitchen. She was a vision that would make any man turn his head. He could appreciate her beautiful looks in that way without feeling any shame. He gives a stern nod as Farrah places the plate of food in front of him. “Thank you, Farrah.” He says in a respectful tone. The man did not show affection easily. His eyes follow her out the door, only looking back at his wife once Farrah was gone. After leading the prayer, he begins to eat his dinner, letting Ella confirm what he had already been worrying about. He looks down when she puts her hand on his. Normally he would chastise her for showing affection outside of the bedroom, but the two were alone, and the woman was clearly not thinking straight. She needed to be comforted and reassured that their child would not be made a sinner.

“There, there my dear Ella, it’s okay.” He says in a soft voice, running his hand on hers and squeezing her fingers. He sits silently for a minute to think about the situation. A beating clearly would not be enough. It might shame the girl for a time, but with a rebellious attitude such as hers, it might only serve to fuel her disdain for the word. Her mother had the right idea. If he found her a proper husband, then he could work to keep her on the right path. She was a beauty, and any man on the compound would consider it an honor to be wed into the family of the father, but who would suffice? What man had the will and the strength to keep her in check? For a moment, he considers Michael, but quickly pushes the thought aside. He was having doubts in his son, and he could never forgive himself if he allowed the girl to lead him astray. The fact of them being half-siblings doesn’t enter his mind. They were both children of the father. Everyone here was family to him. It was why he could have wives among his children.

The pieces connect almost immediately, and he looks over at the woman, squeezing her hand tight. “God tests us all. Farrah is in need of a husband, but there is only one I can think of to truly guarantee her salvation.” He sips from his drink, but is not worried. His wife was loyal and obedient to him in every way. She would agree, he already knew. “I will take her as my wife.” He tells Ella, looking her in the eyes. He can see the doubt in the woman, how he could take their daughter as his next wife, and even suggest it so easily. His hand comes up, stroking her cheek. “Ella, my child, you trust me, do you not?” He asks. The woman slowly nods, leaning her head at his touch so she can rest it against him. “You know that I will properly care for her, and protect her from temptation and sin. Through me, she will find purpose as a good wife, and learn to put aside these damning actions of her. This is to protect your daughter, another of my children. Do you agree?” He asks, though of course permission would not be needed. She wouldn’t dare go against him anyways. Slowly, Ella nods, and at Matthew’s instruction, calls for Farrah to come join them in the dining room.
 
Farrah kept glancing at the door, hearing the murmur of voices but unable to make out any distinct word or phrase. What could be so important that she couldn't listen. Admittedly, she had been half tempted to eavesdrop but had decided better against it. Instead, she had eaten her meal quietly and had been in the process of cleaning up when her mother called her.

"Sit down," Ella ordered, motioning to the seat beside her. Farrah obeyed, gingerly sinking down onto the wooden chair, smoothing out the skirt of her gown. Her mother took a deep breath. "Today you have surely blessed daughter." Her hands squeezed her daughter's and Farrah watched her warily as she spoke once more. "God and your father have seen fit to have you wife. You are old enough now to we'd and we'll, your father shall marry you. On Sunday in fact. After the normal sermon. You are truly blessed."

Farrah looked at her mother, at first dumbfounded and shocked before shaking her head. "No....he...no...I can't marry him. He is half of the reason I was born....." She said, jerking her hands back from her mother's grip. "I won't do it...."

Ella frowned. "You will do it. Disobedient girl. The decision isn't yours....do you see husband, how rebellious she is?" As Ella glanced at Matthew, Farrah rose from the table.

"I'm not going to do this. I am not marrying him...you can't make me. I won't say a word if I am dragged onto the alter. No...." She shook her head and then got up off the chair. "How could you even agree to this. He...he is your husband, my blood. I won't do it...." She shook her head, turning and walking from the room, headed up to her bedroom, slamming the door shut and then pacing. This was bad, very bad. How could her mother agree? She had read the bible to know a man shouldn't lay with his daughter but to let that slip would only guarantee a public beating. She was supposed to be an ignorant and foolish girl like everyone else. But she wasn't. A lot of what Matthew did was wrong but to rally against him might be more trouble than what it was worth. Farrah would not marry him. And that was that.
 
The father eats his meal as he listens to Ella speak. He would rather have the two of them talk than get in the way, especially since Farrah’s mother would be more familiar with her than he would be. As he expected though, the girl doesn’t take the news well. He watches on as mother and child argue, getting louder until the daughter finally shouts that she would not be marrying him or saying the words at the altar. He watches on as Farrah storms out of the room, and hears her door slam shut, another violation of his rules. Doors were rarely to be closed, and certainly never slammed like that. The only times people were supposed to close the door to their bedrooms were when they were changing, or if the husband and wife were going to bed. Yet, he was sure this was a regular occurrence for the girl as well. No, a beating would not be enough, and now he was sure that his decision was the right one.

He listens to Ella cry, fearful for their daughter’s soul. Taking her hand again, he comforts her. “Do not worry, my child. Farrah will find the right path. She has not yet been forsaken. Stay strong.” He tells her. He stands up and nods at her. “We have a lot to do before Sunday. I am worried that our young Farrah may do something in desperation. As such, it is best to keep her locked until the wedding. I will have some women come to help you with preparations, and keeping an eye on her. We should have a dress ready quickly enough and they can help with the bathing and shaving.” He remarks. Her dress would be the same simple one that all women in the compound wore for their wedding. It was also required that her body be made pure before the event. All the hair not on top of her head would be removed. She would be washed clean, and not be allowed anything but bread and water for a day before the wedding.

There was one last thing to do before he left though. “I’m going to speak to her one more time. You should stay here.” He tells his wife before heading up the stairs. He opens Farrah’s door, knowing it can only be locked from the outside and steps into her room. Looking over the girl once again, he speaks. “My child, you need to understand that it is through God’s will that I do this. We want only for you to find salvation, and to have your place with us in heaven. Please tell me you at least understand that, child.” He looks her way, avoiding gazing into her violet eyes, and careful not to approach her for fear that she may overreact.
 
Farrah paused as the door opened and she wished she had had the hindsight to block the darn thing so she could be left alone. As her father entered, she took a step back from him, moving to the other side of the bed. "God's will. Everything you do is for God's will. Only you can have more than wife. It is God's will. Only you are the prophet and God only speaks to you. I may not be we'll read like you but I know that God would not bless this union and I am not going to marry you. I don't care if I do burn in hell for it. This isn't God's will. This is yours. You are a liar, and a fake...I see right through you," she said defiantly, keeping the bed between them. "I'm not as stupid as you think. I am not like my mother. You are horrible. Girls who are raped before they marry are sent to that pleasure house only to be raped more. Men who outwardly disobey you or question you are beaten and they can read the bible and know sometimes what you speak isn't Gid's word. You twist everything up to suit your wants..."

Angrily, she turned away, walking to her window and gazing out before turning to look at him. "Get out of my room and go away. I am not marrying you...you can put the notion out of your head right now because it is not happening. Ever," she swore vehemently.
 
Anger wells up inside of the father. He did not know that his daughter had gotten this insolent. No, he needed to calm down, lest he do something wrong in a fit of rage. Taking a deep breath, he knows what must be done. Walking the short distance to reach the girl, father Matthew brings his hand up and delivers a hard slap across her face. The sound echoes throughout the room, and the girl’s face has a bright red mark on it. Leaning down to examine it, he sees Farrah flinch. “I did not take pleasure in doing that to you, my child, but God’s will is clear here. The devil has entered your mind and clouded your thoughts. You will see. On our wedding day, you will be saved from the hellfire.” He holds her shoulders tight and gives an almost fatherly kiss to her head before leaving the room, locking the door behind him. He leaves the key with Ella, knowing he can trust his wife to keep the girl inside until Sunday.

Making his way home, the father stops and changes direction, going to his son’s house instead. The incident today with his daughter has left him worried that she may not be the only one going astray. He needed to speak with Michael and make sure the boy could carry on the foundations of their teachings. “Good evening father, please come in.” Michael says, moving out of the way to allow his father entrance to the house. Matthew takes a look around, frowning at its untidy state. There’s a candle on a table next to a comfortable looking chair. Beside it rests a book, turned over so that Michael doesn’t lose his page. He knew from a glance that it wasn’t a bible. No, likely it was a book that his son picked up from a trip to the city, and was filled with lies and slander about religion, or advocating the use of drugs. Michael sees the disappointed look on his father’s face. “It’s a copy of a war journal father. Strategies and such from General Grant.” He picks the book up quickly and puts it away. “Is there something I can help you with today, father?” He asks, giving the man his full attention.

Somewhat distracted by the book, the father focuses back on Michael. “I will be wedding on Sunday.” He says. His son simply smiles and nods, biting his tongue. He wanted to remark that his father had enough wives, and in deed enough children, but he knew his father would not take kindly to those words. “I want you to go there tomorrow and introduce yourself properly to her, as well as read the bible verses concerning a woman’s duties to her husband.” It was time his son took on more responsibilities, and reading from the bible would do them both some good. Michael chimes in, wondering who the bride will be. “You’ve met her a few times, but never spoken much. It is Farrah, Ella’s girl.”

Michael looks up in shock. “Father, but that is, you can’t marry her, can you?” He asks, trying to make sense of this. The bible forbid such relationships, that much was clear. The father does not take kindly to being questioned though.

“It is God’s will!” He shouts as an explanation. “Were there a better way, then surely it would have been made clear to us by now, but the girl is quickly falling for the tricks of the devil. She needs the proper guidance of a good husband, and I am the only one who can help her.” He calms down and straightens himself, turning to leave. “You will do as I told you, and come Sunday, I want you prepared. I have certain things that will be important for you to do.” With that, he heads out, leaving his son to think over what he had just been told.
 
Erin cried out in shock and pain as he slapped her and then examined the mark. Her pale skin would certainly bruise because of the blow. As he told her it was the devil's work, she held back a retort and then felt his hands drawing her close to kiss her head. Watching him leave and hearing the door lock, she inwardly cursed and grabbed a nearby doll, throwing it at the door before collapsing onto the bed, curling up in a ball.

The following morning, the door was still locked but she heard female voices downstairs and shuffling feet. Sinking onto the floor by her bedroom door, she listened to the sounds of jovial voices and excitement. Hearing footsteps come toward the door, she stood up, and watched as a young man entered with a tray of food and a bible in hand. She recognized him as her half brother from her mother's sister wife. As he shut the door, she heard it click and realized he hadn't come up alone.

"I suppose dear old dad sent you," she said, slowly grabbing the tray of good. It was a small meal, no doubt punishment from her mother. One egg scrambled, two strips of bacon and a single slice of toast with a small glass of orange juice. "Come to preach to me? To tell me I am bound to hell for not wanting to marry him..." Her voice was tinged with anger, not necessarily at him but her situation. She was being kept locked up and still had the whole day and two more full days before Sunday came.

Sinking down on the bed, she grabbed the plate and slowly ate before draining the orange juice. Sitting the empty plate and glass aside, her gaze went back to her half-brother, watching him, unaware of the large purple bruise on her cheek since she didn't have a mirror in her room or her bathroom.
 
Michael gets up early the next morning, taking his bible and frowning down at it. He did not want to go through with this, but what choice did he have? Even he couldn’t disobey his father without punishment. Resigning himself to his duty, he leaves and makes his way to Ella’s house. It’s already busy when he arrives. Women are running around and getting things ready, helping the mother clean everything up. They all seem so happy. No one questions his father’s decision. They believe it to be the will of God as he had said, but Michael found it difficult to agree with that. Michael’s trips to the city had shown him that the so called heathens lived good lives despite never having even heard of his father. They had been helpful and kind, and the technologies they had available to him seemed to make for an easier life. Well, dwelling on it would not do him any good. Right now he had a job to do.

He greets Ella with a warm smile, which the woman returns with a large one of her own. She seems happier than any of the other women in the house, talking about how noble the father was for saving the soul of her daughter. Michael’s smile becomes more forced and he only nods to imply he agrees. After explaining why he is there, Ella is quick to thank him, handing the platter of food to take up with him. He declines the offer for breakfast, not having much of an appetite at the moment. Ella gets the key ready, but Michael knocks on Farrah’s door before going inside, thanking the girl’s mother as she closes the door behind her. Normally this would be a major sin in the compound, but he was the son, the one who would inherit the responsibilities of spreading the teachings. He was also the girl’s brother, so they thought there was little risk of something happening compared to Farrah trying to escape.

Looking up at Farrah, Michael is stunned for a moment. He never really had a chance to get a good look at her before. Farrah, he realizes, is a very beautiful girl. Her eyes, the bewitching violet eyes that so many were warned to look away from drew him into her, and he couldn’t resist staring. Her words bring him out of his stupor. “You do not want to marry him?” He asks in surprise. He had assumed that she would be as happy as the women downstairs. Every female in the compound seemed to want to be blessed as a wife of the father, or barring that, as a wife of his son. It had been one reason Michael had been so hesitant to be wed. The women here tended to frighten him in how they acted.

His eyes are drawn to the mark on her head, and without saying a word, he disappears from the room. Quickly getting some ice in a cloth, he returns with it and sits next to the girl. “Here you are, it should make it feel better and keep it from swelling.” He says, offering the cloth to the girl. He looks down at the bible next to him, frowning at it. If she did not want to marry him, then how could his father go through with this? Surely not even he had the right to force his daughter to marry him against her will. “I’m sorry.” He tells her in a quiet voice, knowing it is wholly inadequate for this situation.
 
As he offered ice for the bruise and soreness of her cheek, and apologized, Farrah felt her bravado fall before shrugging. "Sorry as you are, it won't do me much good. I got this for calling him a liar and a few other choice words. Marriage to him is my way to salvation. I need a strong husband and a man to guide me away from the devil..." She muttered, dropping her hand to her lap then sighing. "As to what he no doubt wants you to read to me, I already know the majority of it. Let's just say I have a good memory. Ephesians 5:22. Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything." Farrah paused and then looked down. "Other versus say a wife should submit to her husband and one verse says a woman's body belongs not only to herself but also to her husband. He thinks I am to stupid to know what he expects. My mother is a perfect example of what he wants from me but this is wrong."

Farrah swallowed. "Leviticus says that a man cannot marry any close of kin to him or his son's daughter or his daughter's daughter. And yet it is God's will I marry him. I can't do it. But they are going to force me too. He is going to find a way to get me to marry him without me uttering a single word. I have all ideas he will get mother yo speak for me....since I am only sixteen....." Farrah swallowed hard and lifted her hand once more, pressing the ice to her cheek. "Thank you brother, for the ice...it certainly helps....."
 
Michael knew the apology wouldn’t do her much good, but he had wished that she would at least see him as understanding her plight. Though in truth, that wasn’t very fair of him. He might be trying to help comfort her, but he wasn’t stopping the wedding, and she likely saw him as nothing more than a man taking after his father. “Yes, that is what he wanted me to read to you.” He says, amazed at how well the girl recalled it. Michael mentally goes over when the last time those verses were discussed in mass, but he doesn’t remember it being very recent at all. She was quoting Leviticus as well, and he knew that this particular verse had not been discussed.

“You’re memory isn’t so good if you’re able to remember things that were never said.” He tells Farrah in an amused tone. Seeing the look on her face, he just smiles at her. “I remember you getting punished once for trying to read. I suppose that didn’t stop you though.” He can tell she’s worried, so he quickly shakes his head to reassure her. “I won’t tell father, don’t worry. There was never anything in the bible prohibiting a woman from reading. Maybe I can even bring you some books. Think of it as a wedding present.” He bites his tongue when he says that, looking away. Reminding her of the impending marriage wasn’t what he wanted to do. Another few days until then, maybe he could at least be there to talk to her until then. “You don’t need me to read this to you.” He says, holding the bible up lazily. “If you’d like though, I could come back tomorrow to talk. Maybe I can even bring a book for you to read.” Michael suggests.
 
"You shouldn't get me any books. I wouldn't ever be able to read them...as to the bible, I memorized it. I have my own copy, worn and faded. I keep it hidden in my room." She swallowed and looked down before getting up and walking to under the bed, she popped up a loose floorboard then took it out before putting the floorboard back. She moved back to him and then sank down beside him, handing it over. "See. I...I found it just thrown aside in the church pew one day....I was eight. It wasn't to long after father beat me for trying to learn alongside Lucas. I won't have much use for it now..." She handed it to him. "Here...you take it, keep it safe." She flushed and grabbed his hand, placing the worn and nearly falling apart book in his hand. As to coming tomorrow....well no sense in me and you getting in trouble by bringing a book here that isn't the bible. Father will have a cow...." She lifted that violet gaze to look at his face then sighed.

"Don't kick yourself about mentioning the upcoming nuptials...it's a hard subject to avoid. After all, you came here to minister me for it...I suppose I should grin and bear it but I won't. You can tell him that if you wish. Let him think I'm some devil possessed witch. My mother thinks I am. Do you think I'm a witch brother?" She asked looking at her older half sibling before looking down again, fingers digging into her skirts. "Apparently I cause men to lust after me and smile at them like a harlot...."
 
Michael watches his half sister move, following the sway of her dress and not realizing that he was staring until she's bending down to open up the loose floor board. His cheeks become flush with color as he looks away. He takes the old worn Bible from her, quickly moving his hand away as it brushes against hers. She was his sister, he reminded himself. He could be excused for realizing that she was an attractive young woman, but he was noticing things about her that he shouldn't. He listens to her explain how it would be pointless to bring her books, and talking about what he could tell his father. He doubted it would matter to the man. Father Matthew would likely say that he had rights above those of other men, and that he could speak for Farrah. He would give the consent for her. Just thinking about it was making his blood boil. "I will bring them anyways." Michael tells the girl. He wanted to help make this situation easier on her any way he could. "I will find you a place to hide them in your house. That way you will be free to read whenever father is not there."

Michael looks into Farrah's eyes again so that she can see that he's serious. Other men may look away, or believe she would pull them to sin just from her smile or her eyes, but he doesn't believe that. "Of course you are not a witch. Very rarely, I think, has an actual witch actually been caught. Likely because they would not give themselves away through the color of their eyes." She was a good person who only wanted to learn and not be forced into the harsh rules their father had put in place. He could understand that at least. Realizing that he's staring again, Michael quickly looks away. Perhaps there was some truth to what her eyes could do, but it wasn't witchcraft, or the work of the devil. It was simply a girl with beautiful and mesmerizing eyes. "I should go now. I will see you tomorrow." He says, he promises before calling for Ella. Farrah's mother locks the door behind Michael when he leaves, thanking him profusely for helping to guide her daughter.

Michael goes home first, choosing a few of his favorite books that he thinks Farrah might enjoy and putting them away in a pack. From there he goes sown the street, finding the house that is being worked on for her. It was the one closest to his father's, and a house he recognized quite well, as it had belonged to his mother up until she passed away a few years back. His father had given her a funeral as nice as any other person in the compound, but that was what had soured Michael. The man hardly did not seem as heartbroken as someone who lost his wife should be. "She was a good wife, and beloved mother." Seemed to be all the father could say about her. Michael steps inside and looks around. The men who worked on it were mostly just moving furniture in, looking for any important repairs and giving it a fresh coat of paint. The young man goes to his old bedroom, locating the false wall inside his closet that he had used to hide snacks as a child and leaving the books in there before closing it. With that, he goes to his father.

The conversation is short and doesn't go half as well as he would have liked. He begged his father to reconsider. There were many eligible men in the compound who could serve as fine husbands to Farrah. He suggested Kennedy, a friend of his working on becoming a doctor, but that seems to anger his father even more. Kennedy would be spending more time in the city to work on his medical license. He would be too easy to corrupt. No, the father was the only way to ensure the girl be put on the right path, and with that the conversation is over. Cursing silently, Michael returns home to work on a surprise to take with him the next day.

He leaves right after breakfast, and arrives at Ella's house to her surprise. "I worry for her. I am sure you understand. Extra guidance before the wedding can only do her good." That is good enough for the mother who smiles happily before sending him up with another platter. The meal is even smaller than yesterday's, he notices. There was only one strip of bacon, and half a piece of toast. Instead of orange juice, she was only given water. He wondered if her other meals were as small. Were they planning to starve her before the wedding? He puts the plate down. "Maybe next time I can bring you some food with me." He suggests with a nervous smile before holding up the bible. "I think ou'll enjoy this version more than your previous one." He suggests, handing it to her. The cover was that of the bible, but inside is a small collection of the works of Jonathan Swift. "I hope you enjoy reading it." He tells her. "He is a favorite of mine, but I could look for others if you would prefer. Maybe something more studious?"
 
After Michael had left, her day had been filled with silence. Twice her mother came to the door with food, not saying anything and then leaving her be. Lunch had been a simple sandwich with water and dinner had been a scoop of rice and water as well. No doubt fasting was meant to improve her attitude and prepare her soul for marriage. To mind the time, she had done some cross stitching until deciding on a bath, falling asleep not long after that.

Farrah woke the next morning to more female voices downstairs and took her time getting dressed. Pressing her ear to the floorboards, she could hear the conversation below and felt her fear rise at the events in the next couple of days. Tonight the cleansing would begin. Nothing but bread and water complete shaving of hair below her head and a prayer ceremony of the married women to offer blessings and hopes for the bride to be.

"....quite lucky to be so blessed Ella, giving the father four handsome and strong sons, and now his new bride. She to is surely blessed...such a shame she doesn't recognize her good fortune..." A woman was saying. There were murmured agreements.

"I know. We all know how strict the father is but he is a good man. Each of us have sinned and been punished for it, and we have learned to follow him as is our duty. Farrah will learn her place once he has given her ample instruction and correction. No mother wants to see her child in the depths of hell...."

The lack of remorse in her mother's tone made Farrah swallow. Her mother was going to let the man force himself upon her and beat her and was glad for it. How could she so blindly follow the man's orders. Pushing herself up off the floor, Farrah settled on the bed, turning as the door opened to see her half brother entering once more. As he offered her food, she grinned. "You are bound and determined to get in trouble for my sake aren't you," she teased then nodded. "But good food sounds wonderful after the meals mother has been sending me. Tomorrow, it is strictly bread and water, and all of the purification ceremonies...." Trailing off, the ebon-haired teen slowly took the book, cracking it open to find a different title. "Gulliver's Travels and other works by one Jonathan Swift....." She trailed off then looked up, at first in shock then pure joy.

Rushing to him, she gave him a hug then sank down. "Michael this is wonderful. The best present I ever got. I bet it is just fascinating..." She looked at him and grinned, eyes bright. "Thank you. I'm sure it will get me through the day with me having nothing better to do. Thank you Michael...." She said then took a deep breath. "How long are you staying today?" She asked curiously.
 
"Father can be rather strict and hard on me, but he also tends to be more lenient at times. He won't beat me publicly, and besides, I can handle any punishment he sees fit." Michael explains. He thinks over possible meals that he could bring her that wouldn't draw suspicion. Even just a bit of meat or preserves to go with her bread should be good, he thinks. Seeing her bright smile makes the work in hiding the book all worth it. Her grin proves infectious, and he ends up smiling back, happy to have given her some minor comfort through all of this. "You are very welcome Farrah. I'll be happy to bring you more later."

At her question, he looks outside the window. It was still the early morning, but everyone would be hard at work now. Michael shouldn't technically be where he was. His father had only told him to come minister for her the first day, and soon enough he would be needed elsewhere. "I can't stay long I'm afraid, but I can come back for a short while tomorrow if you want me to. The day after that as well, though I wouldn't be blessed to stay long at all, and you... might be a bit busy." He remarks before going silent. He wasn't really sure what else he could say. He couldn't provide a reassurance, and in only a couple of days, she would be wedding their father. How would the man expect to keep her silent though? Michael was actually curious to see how much of a scene she makes on her way down the aisle.
 
"As much as I would like you to visit tomorrow, it can't happen. I will be surrounded by women purifying me and well, I don't want you getting in trouble by sticking around. It's a nice thought to have a friend close by though...." She took a deep breath. "I won't be able to stop him from marrying me, nor will anybody else. I'm going to fight tooth and nail. Even if it I get beaten for it....he thinks I will break down beneath his will but I know this marriage is nothing but him wanting me so no one else will have me. I...I'm a defiant young woman that doesn't follow him like a lost sheep. I know he is our father but a lot of what he does is hypocritical of the bible and his own teachings. I've seen him drunk before. No one was allowed to over imbibe or drink wine outside communion and special occasions. I was younger but he drank two whole bottles of wine one night while here. I'm sure you have witnessed it to."

Sitting the book down on the bed, she looked up at him. "You can warn him if you want but this isn't right....and even if I can't prevent the inevitable, I will make it difficult for him." She looked down, clutching her book to her then taking a deep breath. "Thank you for the book Michael...I will certainly treasure it," she swore, turning to look at him with a smile before looking down in her lap once more.
 
Of course Michael had witnessed his father’s hypocrisy with his own eyes. There was a perfect example of it in front of him right now. A man was only supposed to have one wife, he wasn’t supposed to lay with his daughter, and he was supposed to take care of his family. He couldn’t say a word about it though. In truth, the compound was all he really knew. The trips to the city for supplies and books had shown him how out of touch he was with society. Where could he possibly go if he tried to leave this life behind him? I’m a coward. He thinks bitterly to himself.

“You shouldn’t have to. I can’t believe that this is the will of the lord.” He mutters. What sort of brother couldn’t protect his sister from such a fate? He moves next to Farrah and pulls her into a hug. He hears her surprise, but he just shakes his head. “Do not worry. It’s just a hug.” He tells her. “It’s okay for brothers and sisters to hug. It shows affection.” He had his doubt she had ever even been hugged by her own mother. Just thinking that makes him squeeze her tightly. “You’re right. I won’t be able to come tomorrow, but I will try to visit you when I can. I promise.” As he holds his half-sister close to him, Michael starts to notice a few things. How nice she smells, how warm she feels, how soft her body is. He quickly lets go and turns away, his cheeks flushing as the hug had more of an effect on him than he intended. Picking up the platter, he holds it over his crotch and nods at her. “I should be going now. Please take care of yourself Farrah, and don’t listen to what those other women tell you.”

Michael leaves in a hurry after that, not bothering to wait for Ella to come and lock the door behind him. He says good-bye to the ladies and quickly makes his way home. The young man splashes cold water on his face, trying to calm himself down. Of course he had carnal thoughts before. Everyone did, but it was important to always ignore them and not give in. Still, to be thinking of Farrah was likely a sin in and of itself. Michael silently prays, the cold water and the words helping to calm him down. It wasn’t anything to worry about. He was at the perfect age to be married and having children. It was simply denying his body that release that had caused those thoughts, he justifies to himself. He did have an option of course, and could go to the pleasure house, but the thought makes him shudder to even consider it.

Father Matthew is busy the rest of the day. Every attempt Michael makes at speaking to him is quickly shut down. The young man is sure his father is just avoiding him, not wanting to have another argument about Farrah. He goes to the house being readied for her instead. The work was complete now, and he double checks the false wall to make sure the books hadn’t been discovered. After that, he goes home and prepares a simple dinner, cutting off some chicken and heating it. He wraps it up and hides it in his jacket pocket along with some milk in a small bottle. It was far from perfect, and one only had to look closely to see them. He picks up his bible and returns to Ella’s house. The woman seems wary this time of him coming to visit, so he quickly explains that it would be one last meeting since he wouldn’t be able to come tomorrow. She hesitantly lets him in, giving the platter of bread and water that she intended for her daughter’s meal. Inside, Arthur looks back at the door before turning to Farrah and placing a finger to his lips. He was sure her mother was listening in.
 
Farrah had felt true warmth and comfort at the hug he had given her and had just wanted to sink into that feeling and never make her way out. When he had finally let go and told her that he had to go, she had nodded and then watched him leave. She ate the small meal and then waited until her mother had come again to fetch it before pulling the book out and beginning to read it, devouring page after page of the new and interesting novel she had been given. One of little people and giants and a man trying to escape them. It was an interesting read to be certain and she had nearly not heard her mother's footsteps delivering her half sandwich and water for lunch. Thankfully she had taken the book and tucked it under her pillow as her mother had unlocked and opened the door, sinking the tray down on the table before looking at her.

Farrah watched her move toward the bed then sigh as she sank down beside her. "Farrah...you must stop this defiance...Think of how blessed you are to have a man such as him to be your husband..."

"He is your husband too. I'm his daughter, mother...I'm going to be your sister wife and your daughter once he's done what he wants. How can I be both? You gave birth to me so how could you allow this to happen? You're a weak woman that let's him do anything he wants..." She glared at the woman and watched her mother's face cloud with a mixture of something but then it was gone, replaced with a hardness and determination.

"Such a pretty girl, but so stupid. Fine...Marry him and be miserable, incur his wrath but you will learn. All who have married him have learned that his word is law, he is the prophet and to deny his word is to deny God's. You are going to rot in hell for your behavior child and I have tried all I can to save you but you have given me no choice. You are going to marry him, and he will show you how to be a proper wife and mother and teach you how to be devout. I can't do it any longer..." she said then stood up and shook her head. "You brought this on yourself and you should feel blessed but I can see there is nothing I can do to change your mind. Nothing you say will get me to beg for your behalf. You are going to marry him and be happy about it eventually. He shall show you the right path and you will see...Until then, be content in your misery as the devil's puppet," she said simply then turned and left the room before returning downstairs. All the women had gone home for the day. The wedding dress was ready and was over a mannequin, a beautiful white dress of lace over simple white slip that fell to her ankles.

If only the girl understood how blessed she was. The protection that being the father's wife offered, the advantages in the commune. To be so blessed by God with a husband who spoke directly to him. Farrah was to idealistic, to stubborn. Sighing, she left the house to do some shopping at the market to start making the wedding cake and made a fresh loaf of bread for Farrah to eat on beginning tonight and tomorrow and was just about to send it up when there was a knock on the door. Wiping her hands on her apron, she entered the foyer and opened the door to see Michael. His reasoning made sense she supposed but something was off. Allowing him upstairs, she unlocked the door, casting a glance at Farrah before shutting the door and locking it, moving to listen in and warning to make it quick.

Farrah watched him enter eyes wide and then smirked when he revealed the chicken and she took it quietly before tucking it under her bed to eat on later and then set the platter down. "I suppose your here to pray with me one more time?" she asked, loud enough for her mother to hear.
 
Michael how's back the urge to laugh. Farrah caught on very quickly. She was a smart girl. Too smart to be here. He thinks of his friend again. Not only was he smart in his own right, he was working with these groups that he kept telling Michael about. People who were fighting for fair rights for everyone. It made sense to him. God made all man equal, didn't he? Well, not if the father was to be believed. His father, the wedding tomorrow... What did it matter what Michael thought? Unless he actually spoke up and tried to end this, his thoughts were pointless. He didn't have the time or the power to stop it though. He wanted to defy his father, but he doubted that he could.

"Yes, I am." He tells Farrah. "It's important that I get this stuff through to you." As he talks though, he opens up the book that he brought along with him and quickly writes out a note. "How are you doing?" He waits for the response she writes, reading it before writing things down again. Michael goes over the verses with Farrah, the two of them carrying on a conversation for Elsa to hear while they trade the notes carrying their actual discussion. "I'll visit you when I can." He reiterates. There was nothing wrong with a brother visiting his sister, was there? As he gets up to leave, Michael comes to a decision. He can't let this happen to her. He leaves her one last note. "I can try to stop the wedding tomorrow. I'll object and tell father that it's wrong. Maybe I can convince the people in the church to speak up as well." He hears footsteps as Elsa walks away from the door. "He has no right to have you as a wife. He shouldn't even be allowed to kiss you." Michael says with vitriol in his voice.
 
As he wrote that last note, she looked up at him, realizing the lengths he would go to and then he was speaking out loud. She got up and shook her head. "No...no Michael, don't...don't do anything...you know as well as I do that he has to firm a grip on the people of this community. Don't do anything that will jeopardize you...or get you in trouble. If you get cast out then who will I have to speak to?" she asked, her voice soft. She gave him another hug and then leaned up, kissing his cheek before grabbing his hands, giving them a squeeze. "Please...don't do anything. No matter what happens or what things are said..." she whispered then took a deep breath before handing him the empty plate and tray as well. "Don't worry about me. I'm a tough girl..." Farrah promised him then gave a gentle smile before it faded. "What happens if you can't rally the troops hmm? You'll be beaten, taken away and locked out forever. I'll be okay..." she promised then swallowed. "I promise. You...should probably go. I get the feeling mother's not to happy about you being here," she said then gave him one more hug, putting on a brave face, even though she was scared to death.

After he was gone, she could of swore she heard her mother and Matthew conversing downstairs but paid them no heed. She paced her room, only growing more nervous before finally eating the chicken and tossing the bones out into the middle of the night before finally getting some sleep. The following day was the worst. She was woken to a meal of bread and water and then had been taken and scrubbed from head to toe. The worst of it had been the shaving. Her arms, her legs and even her sex. By the end of it she was just ready to crawl into a hole and die from the embarrassment. Once all that had been done, she had been placed in a white robe and then given more bread and water before all of the women began to pray around her. They prayed that she be fertile and happy, that she obeyed without question and grew in love with her husband. Of all the things they prayed over, Farrah wanted to snort sometimes. Instead of listening however, she prayed for strength to endure but did so silently instead of audibly as the women surrounding her.

By the day's end, she was exhausted and feeling lethargic from the lack of nourishment and was to bed soon after. When the morning of her wedding arrived, she was given bread and water once more and then taken to be prepared. Her mother and the other women fussed over her hair, giving some strands small braids with ribbon and she put on the wedding dress and matching slippers. Once that was done, she was ready for church. Given it was her wedding, the sermon would be a quick one and as she entered the church, she kept her held high and walked down the aisle to the man who was her father, and then stood before him. Her eyes moved from him to the women and men gathered in the church and then fell on Michael before she turned away and then looked at him, her eyes challenging him.

As the vows were spoken, her mother answered for her and then it was sealed with a kiss but she turned at the last moment so his mouth landed on her cheek. Cheers came and she winced as he grabbed her arm, leading her out of the room and down toward the banquet hall where everything was set up for a wedding feast. The banquet hall began to fill and she sank down beside her father then glanced at him. "You haven't won," she told him quietly. "You'll regret anything you do to me because God is watching and he knows the truth," she whispered softly then drew back, giving him a glare before turning away, scooting to the other side of her chair if only to avoid touching him or letting him touch her. Her mother came offering wine to them, pouring glasses but Farrah ignored hers, turning away from all the happy discussions and music playing.
 
"I..." Michael opens his mouth, wanting to argue, but Farrah makes her stance on the matter clear. She would handle this on her own. She was strong. Stronger than he was, that was for sure. His father didn't deserve her. I don't either. Where did that thought come from? Why would he think he does? Looking back into her eyes, and seeing her topic expression, Michael is struck with the urge to kiss her. He quickly shakes his head and turns away again. "You're right. She doesn't. I should go." He turns around again, feeling like he has to say something. "Farrah." He calls out, getting the girl's attention. As she looks up at him though, his strength wavers. He hesitates before simply nodding his head. "Good night." He mutters and leaves. He stops downstairs to talk with Ella for a few minutes. He tries to be subtle as he questions the woman about the situation, but it quickly becomes clear that she has accepted his father's every word as the absolute truth.

This wasn't right. He was overstepping his boundaries. There were rules put in place. How could he do this? The father watches from a distance as his son leaves Ella's house. The boy had only been instructed to visit her the first day to minister the verses. Visiting her twice after that wasn't supposed to happen? Was the girl corrupting him, drawing him into temptation and sin? There was always the other possibility. His own son, already tainted and converting others away from the word. It could happen. Matthew quietly comes to a decision. He would test his son's resolve, and show him what his duties would be when he took over. The next day, he makes sure Michael is hard at work, having him check stocks and take surveys of the whole compound. The boy doesn't end up finishing and getting home until the sun has already set.

The next day, Michael has to get up earlier than usual. His father had ordered him to make sure the church was ready for the ceremony. Fresh bouquets were put in every aisle, and a white carpet was rolled out to the door. White drapes were set up, and the organ was freshly tuned. Soon enough, people start to gather. Of course, Sunday attendance was mandatory, and everyone was already dressed in their best clothes. Michael wonders just what message his father was trying to give by telling the story of Abraham, and the sacrifices they all must make. It seems oddly directed at him. The ceremony happens too fast. Michael couldn't help but once again feel like Farrah deserves better. He remembers tales from outside the compound of large, lavish weddings with lots of song and dancing, and a laughing bride blushing and happy. That is was she needed, but Michael does what Farrah asks and stays quiet.

There is an air of dread over the reception, though Michael is sure that only he and Farrah can feel it. Every minute draws it closer to the time where she would be forced to consummate. And there was no mistake in his mind that it would be forced. A husband didn't have that right, no matter what his father would have him believe. There is plenty of food and drink brought out, yet oddly enough, Michael isn't offered any of the alcohol. No doubt that was his father's doing. He watches the bride when he can get away with it. She resists eating or drinking anything at first, making her disdain of the situation obvious. Then his father pulls her hard by the arm, getting her to gasp in pain before jamming a piece of chicken in her mouth.

He passes it off as a joke. "She is too shy to eat, but my wife needs her nourishment." He says, smiling happily. Then he gives her wine to wash it down, and her hunger and thirst from the lack of proper meals takes over. She eats what little food she's given and washes down some more wine. As the sun sets, the father stands up and helps her walk. Then he calls Michael over. "Help me get her home." He orders his son. Michael glares at him but nods. He can barely keep himself from shaking as he gets to the other side of Farrah, putting an arm around her neck, and her own arm around his. Together, the three of them go to the house that now belonged to the girl, and up the stairs to the master bedroom. Once she's on the bed, Michael turns to leave before Matthew stops him. "Stay." He says simply, getting Michael to turn in surprise. "It's time you properly learned the duties of not just the husband, but the father of these people. Close that door and sit." Michael moves to close the door, trying to figure out just what his father has planned.

The father turns back to Farrah, sitting next to her on the bed as he starts to undo her dress, pulling it hard enough to tear at the fabric. Farrah starts to put up a fight as well as she can, but the combination of her smaller size and inebriated state limits what she can do. Michael jumps up, his eyes widening as he realizes what's happening. "I shouldn't be here for this." He snaps at his father. It was bad enough having to know it happened. Actually bearing witness to it would kill him. The dress rips more, and Arabella's breasts are bared to the men. Michael can't get himself to look away until he sees the father's hand close around one, squeezing on a nipple until it hardens. He couldn't sit by anymore, no matter what Farrah had said. "Enough, this is... you're her father! You can't do this!" He yells.

Matthew strikes his son across the head hard enough to send him stumbling back. "She is my wife. In the eyes of God, I am doing nothing wrong. This is my duty, and my right!" He gives her nipple another twist, hard enough to get a cry of pain from her. "Her body betrays the truth of it. She wants this. She was born seeking carnal pleasure. Only a husband can sate her while preserving her purity." Michael moves to stand up, ignoring the pain on his cheek. His eyes lock with Farrah's, hoping he can make sense of what she wants.
 
Farrah felt dizzy as she was taken from the banquet hall by her brother and father. She hadn't been given anything but wine to drink and it had certainly done a number on her. If this was what drunk felt like, she never wanted to feel it again. As she was laid down on the bed, she groaned and turned over to her side but Matthew's hands were upon her, tearing the fabric of the dress to expose her breasts, even as she pushed at him. Everything seemed off center, and hazy but she could hear what Matthew was saying. Michael. Michael was still here. Her eyes opened to see him falling back and then she whimpered as Matthew pinched her nipple. As Matthew leans down, she winced.

"D-don't..." She begged Michael, giving him a pleading gaze but she guessed Matthew thought it was meant for him. He pinched her nipple harder and tears sprang to her eyes. She shut them tightly, hands moving to his chest, shoving at him. Even inebriated, she didn't want Michael in trouble. He would only be beaten. She had heard of Matthew going to witness consummations before but never had he had his own watched by someone. Embarrassment and fear came together and she managed a weak slap against the man's face and then she was shoving at his body, aware that her dress was now completely torn. She couldn't stop him and while terrified, she would get through it. Her nails raked at his face as she clawed like a cat, trying to inflict enough damage on him for people to know she fought him.

"You will....r-rot in hell....f-for this father," she told him in slurred speech, kicking and clawing but knowing it wouldn't do much good. She felt her body turned over onto her stomach and then a belt put around her wrists, making her unable to fight. "C-coward," she taunted, wincing as she tried in uncoordinated fashion to free her wrists.
 
Michael is torn. He wants to fight back against his father. He knows he could take him, but what would happen after that? How long could he hold the man off? Then he’d be thrown out of the compound without a penny to his name, and Farrah would be left alone to suffer their father’s wrath. She had asked him not to interfere as well. At least if he doesn’t, then he could still be there for her? The girl puts up a fight as well as she can, even managing to scratch Michael’s face, but soon enough, all her clothes are in rags. Shame fills Michael as he can’t stop himself from looking between her legs. She really was a beautiful woman, and despite the situation, he feels himself getting aroused before turning his head away, shutting his eyes. He should leave. His father couldn’t make him stay, but then Farrah would be left alone again.

“I will be there to welcome you into the gates of heaven. Curse me all you want now, but in the afterlife, you will thank me.” The father says simply in response to the girl before forcing her to be turned around. His belt comes off, proving useful in tying his wife’s hands up so she would stop fighting back. “I am your husband. Now you will do your marital duty.” He tells her before looking back at Michael. “Watch closely boy. I should have done this to her long ago. This is the right of the father of the people, just as it is the right of a man with his wife.” He says before returning to Farrah. He forces her head against the sheets, holding her body down as the tip of his erect member is guided to his wife’s cunt.

He thrusts in hard, not waiting or seeing if the girl is ready. With the one push, he buries most of his length inside the girl, breaking through her hymen. Farrah’s cry is muffled by the mattress, and her body’s shaking is subdued by the father holding her down. The blood and the pain she suffers don’t stop Matthew though. He works quickly, fucking her hard, with one fierce thrust after another even as she struggles against him. He finally lets go of her head and her back, gripping the waist with both hands as he pushes his last inch deep inside her, emptying his seed into her womb. With a loan groan to give away any sign of the pleasure he had, the father stays inside her until the last drop of sperm comes out. He stands up, not even looking back at the girl or caring how she is, his cock still softening as he cleans it and gets his pants back on. “Good night, my wife. I will come to check on you in the morning.” He says. There was no reason to stay. The girl and her bed were both dirty, making it difficult to sleep. He saw no need for a break just for a new marriage when there was so much work to do the next day. “You too boy. Hurry and leave here.” He says to Michael.

His son turns to look at him with pure disgust in his eyes. The man had just taken his daughter’s virginity without a care. It had all happened so fast that he almost wanted to mock him for it. This was what he saw as his duty? He treated it as though it were some job that needed doing. “I want to make sure she’s alright. I’ll leave when she’s asleep.” Is all that he says instead. The father scoffs at this, telling the young man to not stay late. There was a lot of work to be done tomorrow. With that he leaves, the sound of the front door closing echoing through the house. Michael immediately gets up and walks over to Farrah, surveying what his father had done. He had taken the belt back, leaving only red marks on her wrists as evidence it had been there. Michael reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder, but hesitates. She wouldn’t want her to touch him now. “I’m so sorry. I should have stopped him. I shouldn’t have sat around. I’m so sorry.” Is all he can tell her.
 
As she was brutally used, she sobbed into the sheets, just glad that it was quick in just a few minutes. As he leaves her and begins to dress, Farrah just closed her eyes and kept them shut as he makes his way from the house. Once he is gone, she slowly curls up into a ball and then hears Michael's voice. Turning, her violet eyes met his own gaze and she swallowed. "Don't....don't apologize. You couldn't prevent it. You would gave only gotten in trouble. I couldn't let that happen..." Her voice was still slurred and her face red and tear stained. "I'm sorry he made you watch....I...I...I just need to be alone okay," she murmured then slowly wrapped the sheet around her, thinking of all the time her mother had put into making her wedding gown. Laying back down, she curled into the fetal position, wincing and crying gently into her pillow, thinking that such a thing couldn't be sanctified by God. It just couldn't.

When morning came, Farrah woke to a splitting headache and pain between her legs. Forcing herself up, she stumbled to the bathroom and decided a nice long soak would be best. It certainly eased her aching muscles and while she still felt sick to her stomach, and her head ached, it was time to persevere. Even if the night before had been horrible, she wasn't broken yet. The good thing about marriage, was that now she only answered to him and had more freedom. A small blessing in this horrible situation.

After her bath, she tugged on a simple dark dress and pinned her long hair off her neck before venturing downstairs and then outside. Grabbing a basket, she headed toward the market, head held high as people congratulated her marriage and blessed her. She only responded with nods and smiles that didn't reach her eyes.

After gathering what she wants, Farrah heads back toward the house only to see her mother exiting and walking toward her. "There you are!" The woman shouted. "Honestly girl, what are you doing? You should be home. He will want another night with you..."

"I don't care what he wants mother. And I'm not a girl anymore. As law states, I don't even have to answer to you anymore. Just him...so back off and leave me alone." She glared at the woman who had so easily handed her over like a lamb to slaughter and then entered her new home, shutting the door and then sinking against it. After gathering her strength once more, she put away the groceries and then surveyed the garden and chicken coops. This was her home now, even if the price was steep. And tonight she would have her full wits about her when he came and she would fight tooth and nail against him. He would get more than a few scratches on his face. That was for sure.
 
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