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An Unwanted Union (sispuppet and Bella)

Michael doesn’t want to leave Farrah alone. He wants to comfort her, hold her, and tell her it would all be okay. He also wants to kiss her, whisper that he loves her, and to have been her first. He tries to shake away these thoughts, but they prove too prevalent. How could he possibly help her right now if these were the thoughts going through his head? “I’ll… I’ll check on you tomorrow.” That’s all he’s able to bring himself to say before he leaves, unable to bring himself to so much as rest a hand on her back. He curses himself the whole way home. His father may have been the one to take her, but he did nothing to stop it. He was just as much to blame for it. He isn’t even able to sleep that night, tossing and turning in his bed before getting up and throwing his bible across the wall, just wanting something that he could punish for all this.

He goes about his business the next day as well as he can. There are no smiles on his face though, and he doesn’t greet anyone. When he first sees his father, he simply glares at the man before turning and walking away. He didn’t even want to look at the monster. As he walks down the road, Michael finds himself in front of the pleasure house. He hadn’t been paying attention, and isn’t completely sure why he was even there. His mind goes back to Farrah. Could that be it? Would it help him sate these horrid thoughts in his head? He shakes his head and walks away. No, that place would do him no good.

Seeing Farrah going into her house, Michael quickly follows, knocking on the door. It takes him a minute to realize he doesn’t have a reason to be there, and in fact, Farrah may not even want to see him. The door opens before he can leave though. “Um, hello… May I come inside?” He asks, his face feeling hot. “You look very beautiful today.” Michael says once he’s inside, and immediately kicks himself. Just because it was true didn’t mean he should have told her that! “Um, I hid you some books!” He says, desperate for a way to change the subject. He leads her to his old room, showing where he hid them. As she looks through the stack, he watches his half-sister closely. “How are you doing?” He finally asks, hoping the question wouldn’t offend her.
 
Farrah was glad to see Michael and was surprised when he did show up. She hadn't expected to see him, especially after the night before. "Of course you can come inside," she said, allowing him in. It was her house now after all. At his comment, she blushed and realized how quickly he changed the subject. Following him upstairs, she smiled at the books hidden in the wall and then that smile faded when he asked how she was. Turning to look at him, she sighed and then grabbed a book, leafing through the pages. "Alright I suppose," she murmured then looked back at him. "A little pained I guess, and...well I'd rather not think about it. Every time it crosses my mind, I feel sick to my stomach..." She shut the book and set it back in it's hiding place before shutting the hidden panel. "He'll be back tonight. Mother said as much...I won't be drunk this time...I sort of wish I would be but at the same time, I know I'm going to fight him, though I don't know how much good it will do."

Slowly, her gaze lifted and then she slumped against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. "I do want to thank you though...for...for not interfering...I imagine it took a lot but I know that he would of beaten you or worse and well...I suppose it is selfish to want you around...Misery loves company," she said softly then swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry you had to watch," she said, her voice trailing off and a stray tear rolling down her cheek. Hastily she wiped it away and then straightened. "I will say though, marriage has it's advantages. I told my mother off...Being as she is a sister wife now, she's got no hold on me now. She let him do this when she could of easily said no or asked him to consider someone else but she didn't and so I hold her responsible for where I am now. If she were a good mother she would of fought for me but she just handed me over like a used rag..." Anger tinged her voice and she shook her head. "I'm a mess of emotions today..."

Farrah blew out a harsh breath and then looked back at him. "Come. I'll make you something to eat...You're my first visitor," she smiled at him, walking downstairs and to the kitchen where an icebox was stocked with some fresh produce and juice. She put a pan on the gas stove, lighting it and then grabbing her porkchops. "You're the only one I shall be cooking for today. Our father can starve to death for all I care..."
 
“I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Michael remarks, regretting having said anything in the first place. It was nice that she was happy to see him. That alone gave him a flutter in his chest, but to remind her of the incident last night, and how it was sure to be repeated only filled him with dread. He listens to her talking about the bright sides, trying to act as though they made up for the price she paid. He quickly hides his fist so she wouldn’t see it shaking, nodding at what she says. “You don’t need to hide them. Not in front of me at least. I want to be here for you.” He quickly tells her, not seeing a need for her to apologize for her emotions.

Following her downstairs and to the kitchen, he watches Farrah get busy working on some food. He should turn her down. It wouldn’t be proper for him to stay with her, especially with the thoughts going through his head. She was giving him one thing that she intended to deny his father, why not another? “Dinner sounds wonderful.” He tells her instead, knowing that it was a bad decision. He sits silently and watches her cook, only speaking to thank her for the meal when she sets it in front of him. A good cook, intelligent, beautiful, of course he would steal her away for himself. He always took the best things this place had to offer and kept them locked away. He thought sourly. Farrah must notice the grimace on his face as she comments on it, wondering if he doesn’t like the food. “It’s delicious.” He quickly tells her.

“You shouldn’t have to fight him alone.” Michael finally tells her. “Please, let me stay. Let me help you deny him. He doesn’t.” She starts to tell him again to not interfere, talking about the consequences. “Damn the consequences!” He yells out, fed up with caring about what the punishment could be. “He doesn’t deserve you! You don’t have to suffer through him! You deserve better!” He looks her in the eyes, his emotions being let out as he’s unable to stop himself. “You deserve better.” Michael reiterates before leaning forward, pressing his lips to hers in a fierce and passionate kiss. It lasts for a few short seconds before he comes to his senses and immediately jumps back. “I-I’m sorry. I should go.” He says, practically tripping over himself as he tries to get to the front door, his cheeks burning red. How could he do that? How was he better than his father? He asks himself as he heads for the main hall.
 
Farrah had made a simple dinner of pork chops and rice and gravy. He looks distracted and she could only imagine why. There were several reasons he would be distracted, not the least of which being his father. Their father and her husband. She eats her meal in silence and when he starts to talk about fighting, she stands up with him, listening to his rant and trying to speak and calm him but then he was kissing her. Not like a brotherly kiss either, but one that was all consuming and shock gave way to pleasure but then he was gone from her lips before she could truly react. As she blinked, she saw him rushing toward the door and rushed after him. "Michael...Michael wait..." she said, moving after him and then catching his arm before he could leave and drew him close. "Don't...don't apologize," she whispered softly then swallowed, leaning forward and kissing his lips again, this time more gently before drawing back. "Don't apologize," she repeated and then drew back from him and not a moment to soon as the door opened and their father entered.

A stab of fear went through her but she squelched it and then frowned at him before looking at Michael. "Thank you for coming by today...I appreciate your help...if you aren't to busy I need help fixing my new chicken coop...but I understand if you are busy," Farrah told him, hoping he recovered quickly, not trying to get him in trouble. Her gaze turned to Matthew and she cleared her throat. "Michael came by to help me settle in. Make sure I didn't need anything around the house. Your son is certainly a decent man...you should be proud of him," she said then glanced at Michael. "I'll see you tomorrow I suppose..." she told him with a gentle smile before turning and walking into the dining room, cleaning up the plates and just hoping that Michael let it be. She rinsed the plates off, having already put up the unused rice to fry up with eggs and butter the next morning.

Once done, Farrah wiped her hands on a dish towel and then drew in a deep breath, knowing that tonight was going to be rough but she was going to persevere. She just hoped Michael let it be for now.
 
Michael turns as he feels Farrah pull him. Then suddenly her lips are on his again and they are sharing another kiss, one that lasts for far too short a time. As soon as they’re apart, their father enters. He can only glare at the man as Farrah speaks, doing his best to hide the anger that he feels at him. “Yes, of course I will stop by tomorrow. I promise.” He answers her, barely even giving his father a nod before he leaves. He practically races home, needing to get as far away from that house as he could.

“I kissed her.” He mutters to himself once safely inside and away from any prying ears. “Oh lord save me, I actually kissed her.” She kissed him back, he reminds himself, but that didn’t make it okay. He would need to stay away from her. What they did was one of the worst sins. No, not just one, how many rules did he break with that one kiss, he didn’t even know. He sinks down in his chair, knowing he could never go back to her house. “I promised her.” He says out loud as he remembers what he had told her. Breaking a promise pointlessly would not make him a better person. There was only one choice then. He would promise himself not to repeat what happened today.

The father watches the door as Michael leaves. He didn’t like the two spending so much time together, but he knew that nothing could possibly come of it. He and Farrah were now lawfully wedded husband and wife. His son could act angry and run off on his own, but Farrah was his for life. He follows her into the kitchen, watching as she washes the dishes. So this was her little ways of revenge? She would cook for her brother, but not for her husband? Then so be it, he didn’t need food from her. She had other things to give him. He walks up behind the girl, pushing her hard against the counter as he takes hold of both her hands and pulls them behind her back roughly. “It seems to me…” He says as he holds both her wrists tight with one hand. “that you insist on being disobedient and denying your husband his rights.” He pushes her dress up with his free hand, tugging her underwear down her struggling legs. “This would be far less painful for you if you just learn your place.”
 
Farrah gasped when he pushed her against the counter and winced when he grabbed her wrists and forced them behind her back. She closed her eyes tightly. "What? It's a right to eat?" she asked smartly, trying to keep him from pushing down her panties. As he bent down to tug her panties down, she used the opportunity to twist herself from his grip and then turned and slapped him, yanking her panties right back up before stepping back. "Don't touch me...If I recall correctly, I didn't speak the vows yesterday that make us married, you had mother do it for me. I'm going to fight you, every single time you try to touch me...because what you're doing is wrong. I'm not helpless like I was last night and the days before locked in my room starving...my place is not with you," she said then spat at him before turning, making a run toward the stairs but he caught up, causing her to slam into the steps. She turned onto her back, wincing and moving putting up as much of a fight as she could. "Don't touch me you sorry beast...get off me...you incestuous bastard!" she screamed at him, kicking and scratching and punching without any inebriation.

She scrambled from beneath him and then managed to escape him again before turning, crawling up the steps and rushing toward the bedroom, making it inside and slamming the door shut, using her strength to keep him out but she was to small and knew it wasn't going to last. She just hoped she managed to tire him out enough that he left her alone.
 
The father is aghast at how she dares to speak to him. Will this woman never learn her place?! “Your vows were spoken well enough. Both your father and your mother agreed to it, and the union was bared witness to by the lord and the congregation. That is all that matters. You are my wife, in the eyes of the lord and the law!” He wipes the spit off himself, his face turning redder with anger as he chases her down. What she says next causes him to bring his hand up and deliver the hardest slap he can across her face. “Don’t you DARE call me a bastard! You have no right!” He grabs at her dress as she turns away from him to keep running up the stairs, causing her to trip as it rips. She quickly stands back up though and gets to her room.

Matthew quickly stands, wiping at the marks she left on his face before giving chase again. He slams with all his weight against the closed door, causing it to shake against the girl, but she manages to hold against it. “Damn you, stupid bitch! How dare you defy me like this?!” He yells at her through the door, what little semblance of control he had completely gone. He hits the door a few more times before relenting, backing up, his hand aching from the strikes. He is about ready to start kicking at the door when another thought comes to mind. “You will open this door, and you will submit yourself to me as a proper wife!” He tells her, listening to her response with a hideous grin on his face. “I know you will. Because if you do not, then I will send Michael away.” He goes silent for a moment, letting his threat sink in. She cared for the boy, that much was obvious. He was the only friend she likely had. “If you do not make yourself a proper wife, then I will disown him. He will be removed from the compound and left to make his way on the outside without so much as a penny from me.”
 
The force that he brought to the door made the whole frame shudder and she grit her teeth to keep herself from letting loose and allowing him in. It's when he starts to speak through the door in a more calm manner that frightens her and at his threat, she closed her eyes, cursing quietly before looking at the door. He had her right where it hurt, damn him. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced herself up and then placed her hand to the knob, her forehead to the wood. She didn't want Michael to be punished for her. That was the worst of it. He hadn't done anything wrong and his father was such a spiteful man he would punish him just because she wouldn't lay with him. He was a horrible human being, her father. She had read the bible and his words were not the way of a true Christian. Even so, he had her stuck and he knew it. Fighting off the wave of nausea, she slowly opened the door, for a moment proud of the scratch marks and bruises forming on his sorry face, knowing she would be sporting her own.

"You would do that hmm? To your own son? Your first born at that...just because of me...he's a good man, unlike you...he's a true Christian that doesn't twist God's words for personal gain..." She swallowed hard and then took a deep breath. "But fine...you win..." she told him and then opened the door all the way. "I...I surrender..." Tears fill her eyes and she turned away, not wanting him to see. "He deserves a better father than what you are to him...My own terms though. I do whatever you want, no matter what, and you...you just leave him alone..." she whispered softly and then looked at him, showing her anger. She might be agreeing to doing what he wanted but she was far from happy about it. God help her, she prayed silently.

Farrah just prayed for the strength to endure. He would punish her no doubt, and slake his lust on her and she would let him because Michael didn't deserve it. But she knew the best way to keep him safe after tonight was to keep her distance from him. If she distanced herself from him, he wouldn't get hurt.
 
The father smiles victoriously as he steps into his wife’s room. “I would do what I have to for the good of my children. If you keep resisting, then I can only assume that the two of you are corrupting and tempting each other, and working to undo all my hard work. If making you my wife isn’t enough, then maybe cutting out the corruption will.” He explains as he walks to the bed and turns to face her. His eyes go down to her now exposed legs from where her dress ripped. “I will leave him alone, granted that he remembers his place, and that you remember yours.” He pulls her to him and forces a harsh kiss on the girl’s mouth, his tongue finding its way to hers for a brief moment before he pushes her onto the bed.

He takes his time undressing, instructing the girl to do the same. “Hurry now, I do not have all night to waste with you.” He tells her as he folds up his shirt and pants, putting them on a chair before dropping his underwear. His cock, fully erect, springs out of its confine as he slowly walks over to the bed. Climbing on, he stares Farrah right in the eyes the whole time as his cock makes its way to her entrance before stopping. “I want you to prove it to me.” He tells her, climbing off her and laying down on the bed. “Serve me as a woman is supposed to serve her husband. Prove to me that you meant what you had said and that you will do your duty willingly.”
 
She tried not to gag when he forced his tongue into her mouth and then grunted as he pushed her back onto the bed. With shaking fingers, she undressed, moving the fabric aside to reveal her nudity and then laid back as he moved over her. When he stopped, Farrah looked at him, fearing he was going to beat her but then he was saying for her to willingly put herself upon him. Her first thought was to say no but Michael's fate was in her hands. She watched him move to lay on his back and then slowly moved up. She took down her hair and then looked at him. She opened her thighs and then swallowed hard, using her hand to guide him to the entrance to her sex and then slowly started to press down, closing her eyes and wincing as she pressed herself down and his cock filled her.

It still hurt, being that she was sore from the night before and blew out a deep breath once she was completely down and he was fully within her body. Her cheeks burned with humiliation but she didn't dare stop. Slowly, she started to rotate her hips, moving them up and down as she straddled him, her eyes closed as she focused on the movement and not much else. In her mind's eye, it wasn't her father who she was having sex with, it was Michael. She could imagine every contour of his body as he lay beneath her and it was easier this way, even if it was still morally wrong to think of her brother in such a way.
 
Watching as the girl finally gives in and straddles him, the father smiles at his victory. Finally, the girl understood the responsibility she had. He groans out as she sinks down on him. The way her hips move and how she manages to take all of him just confirm what he already knew. She had a body made for pleasure, and was an expert despite her lack of experience. If he hadn’t taken it himself last night, then he would actually wonder if he truly was her first and only. Gripping the girl’s hips, he starts to speed her up, forcing her up and down his length at a faster pace.

At one point, the father hears the unmistakable sound of a moan escape from the girl’s lips, causing him to scoff as he forces her down hard against him. “Of course you’re starting to enjoy this. You should be thanking me, you foolish girl. Now that I am your husband, you can have this pleasure without sinning. This is the blessing you have been given by being married to me.” He explains to her between each thrust. She has her eyes closed the whole time, and he swears he can hear the girl muttering something under her breath, though he can’t make it out. Bringing a hand up, he gives her face a light slap. “Look at your husband while you are serving him!” He yells at her, forcing one of the girl’s eyes open.

Holding her waist tight again, the father guides her to rolling her hips against him, starting to thrust hard to meet her each time until finally his body tenses, and with a grunt, he releases himself inside her once again. He falls back on the bed, forcing Farrah off of him, not knowing nor caring if she had been satisfied. After taking a few minutes to catch his breath, the father gets up and cleans himself, slowly getting dressed. “I will come by for dinner tomorrow. See that the house is clean and the food is cooked properly.” Is all he tells her before leaving the girl alone for the night.
 
At the slap, Farrah opens her eyes, not wanting to look at him while she moves, but now having little choice. At least he finishes quickly enough, tossing her aside on the bed before getting up. She said nothing to him as he dressed and told her what he expected and then he was gone. After waiting just a few minutes, Farrah finally got out of bed and went to the bathroom to bathe, wanting nothing more than to rid herself of his touch. Anger and shame filled her and she fisted her hands, drawing in deep breaths and then running her fingers through her hair. Then the tears started.

She cried long enough that the water turned cold and she was shivering. After drying off, she stripped the bed and put on new sheets before climbing onto the mattress and just curling up in a ball.

The following morning, Farrah was up early in the back with blood and seed stained sheets, scrubbing them on a washboard with lye soap and bleach. Her hair was pinned off her neck and she was wearing a simple light blue dress with the sleeves rolled up. Her temple sported a bruise from the hard slap last night but she knew Matthew was sporting his own bruises and scratches. When she heard the knock, Farrah turned, walking to the front door and wiping her hands on her apron then opening the door to reveal Michael.

She let him in then shut the door, keeping her gaze down and then she looked at him, tears filling her gaze. Then Farrah wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his clothes, inhaling his scent, trying not to go into hysterics. After a moment, she lifted her head. "Michael...I...I don't want you to come around me anymore," she said, closing her eyes and then dropping her hands from his waist. "I need you to promise me that you won't come around. For your sake...I have to accept this...accept what it is, even if I don't want him. I...I have to accept him as my husband and obey him..." She swallowed. It felt as though her heart was being ripped out of her chest but Farrah didn't dare go back on her word. Maybe by distancing himself, Matthew wouldn't be able to threaten him further.
 
Michael hears a knock at his door and is surprised to find his father on the other side. Without a welcome or a greeting, he steps out of the way to let the man in. Turning him away would do little good, he knew. From the look of his father’s face, and the smell coming from him, it’s obvious what had happened. Michael is torn between being happy that his half-sister fought back, and disgusted at his father for doing this again. The look of triumph on his father’s face only confuses the matter more. He clenches his fist and keeps his emotions in check though. When his father orders him to fetch the kit and clean up his face, the young man complies, knowing he had little choice in the matter. He returns with some cloth and iodine, cleaning his father’s wounds and taking pride in the older man wincing in pain. “Perhaps you should find yourself a more willing wife.” He mutters.

To his surprise, his father smiles at that. “She came to me willingly tonight.” He says. Michael stops for a moment, looking into his father’s eyes. He looked as though he was telling the truth, but Michael couldn’t be sure if he actually was, or if the man just believes his own lies. Michael presses the cloth to one of the scratches, mentioning it didn’t look that willing. His father scoffs at him. “She resisted at first, but soon her situation made itself clear, and after that she not only offered herself to me, but she did the act herself.” He had to be lying. Farrah despised the man more than he did. Why would she do that? What of the kiss she gave him? What had that meant? No, his father couldn’t be speaking the truth. It was just completely impossible. His father gets up to leave after that, and Michael doesn’t know if he came to be treated or to gloat. As soon as he’s gone, the young man slams his fist against a wall. He would speak to Farrah tomorrow. She would clear this up. The kiss, her father’s lies, everything would be understood tomorrow.

He’s surprised at the tears in her eyes when he enters her house. Before he can even ask what’s wrong, she’s hugging him. Being this close to her, feeling her in his arms, isn’t even something he can appreciate right now with all the thoughts racing through his head. Then she tells him not to see her anymore, and his heart shatters. Silence is his only response, all the words in the world failing him. Why? What happened the previous night? Was his father telling the truth? Had she accepted the position she had as the man’s wife? As she speaks, his heat is put back together with a deep fury in every beat. He used him against her. Michael doesn’t know what the exact threat was, but it’s obvious to him now that his father somehow used Michael to make her submit. I will kill that man. Michael can’t even bring himself to seek forgiveness for the thought of patricide.

“No.” He mutters, squeezing her to him tighter. “What did he tell you? Did he say he would throw me out? He wouldn’t dare risk causing a scene like that without a good enough reason.” Michael explains. “No.” He reiterates. “I don’t care what he says. You’re the only thing that makes this God forsaken compound bearable.” He leans down, pulling her to him in another kiss, the shame of who he was doing this with pushed aside. There were many major sins listed in the bible. Incest, coveting a neighbor’s wife, to say nothing of coveting one’s father’s wife, were all worth a lifetime of punishment. Yet it was pride that was the father of all sin. Suddenly Matthew’s name seemed so much more fitting to his son. Michael doesn’t break the kiss until he feels the need for air, looking down into his sister’s eyes as he catches his breath. “I would forsake my rights, my home, my place in heaven, if having any of those meant I would not get to see you.” He whispers to her, never letting go of her body.
 
Farrah kissed him back when he kissed her and closed her eyes, taking in everything. The feel of his touch, his scent, the taste of his lips. When he eventually draws his lips from hers, she sucks in a breath then looks up at him. Her violet gaze is tearful and a mixture of lust and grief. Laying her head down on his shoulder, her eyes closed and her lands clocked themselves around his neck. "You can't possibly want me Michael. I...I'm his whore. I don't feel like a wife. And last night, I...."she shook her head. "What if I get pregnant, with his child. Are you still going to love me? I can't stop him...he is to strong....and he is so violent. I wouldn't put it past him to hurt you...I couldn't live with myself if he hurt you because I disobeyed him." She swallowed hard and then lifted her head again.

"I wish we could leave and never return. Go somewhere far away from here. Surely the outside world is better than this place. It has it's dangers I bet but it can't be terrible....not like here....I don't see how God could allow all of this...surely he sees the wrong in what our father does....and yet our father is blessed. I don't understand." After a few moments, Farrah drew herself from his warmth and then leaned up, kissing him again. "I say, we start plotting escape. Save up money. Until that time, I will play the biddable wife, and you...you can be the good son he wants. We shall be going to hell no doubt so we will have to steal and lie to accomplish it. And plan carefully. Is...is that a crazy idea?" She asked, feeling her cheeks burn. "I just don't want him to suspect anything. Do you think you could act distanced from me...?"
 
So then his father wasn’t lying. Michael’s eyes tear up, but he shakes it away. It wasn’t willingly. She had still been coerced, even if she chose to do the actions. His own father had used him to force her into submission. “You aren’t a whore.” He tells her. “And you most certainly aren’t his.” He adds, unable to hide the anger in his voice. “So what if you have his child? Having him as a father is an undeniable horror, but any son or daughter you give birth to will have a wonderful mother to be cared and raised by. Any child you have will be fine.” He leans into another kiss. “I will always love you. There is nothing that monster could do to ever change that.” He smiles when she mentions just running away. “It’s a crazy idea.” He tells her. “Though truth be told, I had the same one.”

He looks down at her, and as their eyes lock, he realizes just how serious both of them are about it. “It would take a lot of work” He tells her. Money was hard to come by. The crops, fabrics, and crafts made in the compound were sold in the city, but most of the money was used for lumber, medical supplies, and other things they didn’t have easy access to. Michael had some control over it thanks to his position, but he could only take so much without it arousing suspicion. “It will take us months, maybe even a year to get everything ready. I have some friends in the city who might be able to help, but I can’t promise anything yet. Until then though, I will be here for you. I will visit as much as I can, and just let him try to stop me.” Michael says defiantly, falling quickly into another kiss. He can feel a tightening in his pants and closes his eyes as he inhales his half-sister’s scent before pulling back guiltily. “I’m no better than him, am I? I don’t just want you safe. I want you, as a husband wants a wife.” He finally admits, his hand rubbing against her back as he looks down with shame in his eyes.
 
She shook her head, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "No...no you aren't at all like him. You wouldn't force a girl into your bed...you wouldn't hurt me...months....it's a long time but I think we can persevere. We are strong Michael. And stubborn. If you can hold up a charade that long, so can I. We can't let him win..." She swallowed then kissed him again. "I love you...." She murmured. "All of me does...and one day, I promise you that we will be just like a husband and wife in the outside world, away from this place..." She swore then slowly kissed him before drawing back and then taking a deep breath. "I have to get back to cleaning..I'm out back with the laundry. You could fix the chicken coop so I have eggs," she said with a gentle smile. "You did promise," she reminded him, reaching up and stroking his cheek once more. It would be a hard uphill battle but her heart belonged to Michael and soon her body would to. They both just had to have the strength to endure and be outwardly obedient and biddable and that way when they disappeared, no one would see it coming.

She headed out back, leading him out to show him the broken coop. "I don't think it's been used since you were a boy," she said with a smirk. "The nails are rusty and the wood rotten. Can you fix it?" She asked hopefully, going to the wash and beginning to pull it through a wringer.
 
The kisses were becoming too easy, too familiar, but Michael wouldn’t ever dare stop them. The promise makes him pause. They could be just like husband and wife? That would be… he knows it would be wrong, and a devastating sin. If it ever came out, then they wouldn’t be accepted anywhere, but he would have her. He would be with her. That alone would make it worth it. They share one last kiss before she goes back to cleaning. Following behind, he picks up the tools he brought with him and makes his way to the chicken coop. “Yes, I should be able to. It won’t prove too difficult, but it may take me a few days to finish.” Michael explains, smiling at the excuse the broken down coop provided him with.

He gets to work, pulling out all the rotted pieces and folding up the mesh. He gets a good portion of it back in working order before the sun is high over his head and he starts sweating. Farrah is hanging up the laundry, and he turns to smile at her. This felt perfect. No one was bothering them. Just the two, alone, getting through the chores they had for today. This was all he could ask for. Farrah heads back inside, offering to fix them up some lunch. Michael quickly follows her, washing up in the restroom before joining the girl in the kitchen. As she puts together the sandwiches, he can’t resist moving up behind her, wrapping an arm around his half-sister’s waist and leaving a soft kiss on her cheek. “I love you.” He whispers in her ear, meaning it as more than just a familial love.
 
Farrah looked at him and smiled as he whispered that he loved her before looking down and finishing the sandwiches, handing him a plate and a glass of water. "Here...eat up..." She said simply then grabbed her own plate and sank down at the table to eat, blowing out a breath before looking at him and then down. She knew they were both flirting with disaster and if anyone found out, she didn't even know what the punishment would be. "I wish you didn't have to go...but....after lunch, I have to start on the rest of the house..." She swallowed and then looked down. "I am sure he will have you busy the next few days. He doesn't like you around. Michael, you have to be obedient to him. If he casts you out before we have enough money or resources..." She trailed off and looked down. "And to protect you, I have to do what he wants...." Her stomach rolled at the very idea but she knew that her husband would cast Michael out or hurt him and then there would be no hope. She would have to play the whore. Even if Michael said she wasn't, she was. By using her body, Farrah would keep him safe and keep their plans hidden.

After finishing her lunch, she got up quietly, cleaning up and then glanced at Michael. "Do you really think we can pull it off Michael?" She asked him, walking back toward him and sinking down beside him. "Because I know it's going to be an uphill battle. You love me now but what if you grow to resent me for what I have to do to keep you here....? I don't want you to hate me...."
 
“I don’t want to leave you.” Michael tells her simply, pulling the Farrah close to him for a deep kiss. “He won’t risk making a scene. His image is everything to him. Being seen as having a corrupted and disowned son would only cause issues.” He tries to argue, but knows that she’s right. They would have to call it a day for now. “We both have our parts to play, but the plan is in place. We’ll get out of this place together. I promise.” He stands up, pulling her to him in a tight hug. “We can do this. I know we can. I will still love you, you know that. I could never judge you for the things you have to do to get by. You haven’t done anything wrong Farrah.” They make their way to the door, and he leans down to give her one last kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Michael promises her before leaving.

He can’t stand being around the other people in the compound, least of all his father. The first thing that Michael does once he leaves Farrah’s house is pick up items that need to be dropped off in the city. He collects some money as well before taking the truck down the road. He doesn’t want to stay in tonight, in case his father decides to come seeking treatment or to gloat again. After doing the usual trading, he goes to his friend’s apartment. The doctor in training was always happy to let Michael stay the night if he was in the city late. While there, the young man explains the plan to his friend. He says only that the girl is his father’s newest wife, and doesn’t want to be. He doesn’t mention his own relationship with her, wanting to leave the details vague until he’s sure what it is himself. His friend sets the couch up for him, promising to help any way he can.
 
Farrah was loathe to let him go but knew she had to. Once he was gone, she set to work, sweeping, mopping and dusting and then set to work on a simple stew for dinner. As it simmered away, she changed out of her clothes into a fresh dress, wanting to give the appearance that she was learning to be his perfect wife. Her stomach rolled at the idea of letting him touch her but she tampered it down, braiding her hair back and then stepping downstairs just as he entered. Without saying a word, she walked to him and took off his coat, hanging it up. Just because she was playing subservient didn't mean she had to appear happy about it.

"I made beef stew for dinner, over rice..." Her gaze flew to him and then she turned away, walking to the kitchen to fix a plate for himself and for her, trying to get a hold on her emotions. It made her sick knowing he would soon be thrusting into her and hovering over her in bed.
 
The father enters the house with a deep scowl. It wasn’t lost on him that his son had been there earlier, and had spent a good portion of the day with the girl. He didn’t suspect the love that was forming between them of course, his thoughts were more on the corruption, and how the two were likely pushing each other away from the church. He also didn’t like how close they were becoming. It seemed like they were confiding in each other even more. She was more affectionate with his son than her own husband, and while he didn’t think it was more than platonic, it still filled him with jealousy. He takes his seat, biting into his meal and grimaces. “You would think that spending your whole life with Ella would make you a better cook.” He tells her, though he quickly finishes his entire plate. There wasn’t any wine in the girl’s house yet. He didn’t trust her alone with it, so he was forced to drink water instead.

Once his plate is clean, the father wipes off his hand and mouth with the napkin, taking Farrah by the wrist and pulling her. The girl is forced to drop her spoon and leave her plate half eaten as he leads her up the stairs. He pushes the girl to the bed and in a single word, orders her to undress as he does the same. He can’t help but smirk victoriously as the girl disrobes. “Seems one of your dresses finally survived the night.” He tells her. As soon as he’s naked, he pushes the girl back down to the bed, forcing her legs open as he thrusts into her. He takes her hard, thrusting in and out, each time burying his whole length inside her before pulling back to only his head and pushing in again. “Look down.” He orders her. “I want you to watch what we’re doing.” He doesn’t hold back or try to make it last, pumping her full of every last drop of his seed after only a few minutes. Falling beside her and catching his breath, the father takes hold of the girl’s hair and pushes her downwards. “Lick me clean.” He orders before laying his head back. “And don’t dirty the sheets. I’ve decided to stay here for the night, and I will not sleep in filth.” His mind is already made up, wanting to be here to personally greet his son when the boy arrives in the morning.
 
Farrah grimaced when he pushed himself into her. Gripping the sheets, she tried to block it out but he forced her to participate and even watch. Contrary to what he wanted, she felt pure revulsion and when he finished, and forced her down towards his member it took all control not to throw up. Wincing, she licked the tip and then the shaft, swallowing the vile liquid, idly wondering if it was supposed to smell so horrible or if he didn't wash. Laying back down, she brought her hair to one side, her back to him, aching and feeling disgusting for letting his horrible fingers touching her.

After a moment, she forced herself up and then went to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and cleaning herself and glancing in the mirror before looking down. After a moment, she returned to the bed then grabbed the sheet wrapping it around her. "Perhaps tonight I carry your child..." She muttered, eyes open and staring blankly at the wall before closing her eyes and curling into a ball. "Wouldn't that be a blessing..." She swallowed. "I have to go...clean the kitchen, put up leftovers....waste not want not right...h-husband?" She asked softly. Feeling cheap and used.
 
The father stares at his wife as she puts on her act and nods in response to what she says. "One day, you'll believe the words you say. That will be a great day for you, my child. You will finally understand the blessing I have given you." He lays back on the bed and lets sleep come to him, completely unaware of the thoughts going through his young wife's mind. In the morning he gets up and goes to bath, leaving his clothes for Farrah to wash them. Once clean he goes to the closet and gets out one of the outfits he leaves in the houses of all his wives. It's as he's fixing up the last button that he hears a knock.

Michael is surprised when the door opens, and the person there to greet him is his father. The smile he had on his face immediately vanishes as he asks the man why he's there. "This is my wife's home. Therefore, it is mine. I am free to stay here as long as I wish. It is only to prevent the women from growing jealous that I keep my own home instead of staying with one of them." He answers before letting the boy inside. "Hurry and get to work. You have to finish repairing that coop, don't you?" The father asks in a smug tone. Michael clenches his fist and goes to the back of the house, giving Farrah a quick smile before moving to get to work. He stares in anger as their father joins them, grabbing the girl by the wrist and pulling her back inside. He takes Farrah back upstairs, not bothering to close the door before telling his wife to undress. He moves over to the window, opening it. "It's warm. I want a breeze." He tells her, though it's obvious what the real reason is for him doing this.
 
Farrah woke the next morning, relieved that he didn't touch her again. Her night was pretty much without rest and she hadn't really gotten to sleep until close to dawn. As he bathed, she dressed and decided she would have her bath later. As he came in and dressed, she was busy brushing and braiding her hair, ignoring his presence as best she could and then she heard the knock downstairs. It was Michael no doubt and as Matthew walked down to answer, she flushed, following after him. As her gaze met Michael's she swallowed the shame and then saw him give her a quick smile. Before she could even react, Matthew was taking her upstairs. Not again, she thought but when he ordered her to undress, she closed her eyes and then unbuttoned her dress, sliding it down. "You'll be late for your meeting with the deacons," she said knowing her voice would carry down into the backyard. It was Wednesday morning and he always met with the deacons and husbands and women that were married always had their own meeting amongst themselves. "Surely we don't have time..." she trailed off at his expression and then looked down, folding her dress and putting it to the side.

This was a cruel tactic on his part to no doubt humiliate her and to be smug to Michael, knowing the friendship between them. "I just don't want you late for your meeting...you never miss it," she said, stepping toward the bed, sinking down on it and just hoping that Michael didn't hear it but she knew he would and her cheeks burned.
 
The father narrows his eyes at her, but despite her mentioning the meeting, she didn't stop undressing. He scoffs when she mentions that he never missed one. "And I won't. They'll wait for me, like they always do." He tells her as he slides out of his own clothes and folds them properly. He takes the girl's wrist and pulls her over to the dresser near the window, bending her over it. Their eyes lock in the mirror as he slowly rubs the head of his cock along her slit. He takes his time, not thrusting in and finishing quickly as he always does. He wants to show her that he has no need to rush this time, but there was another idea that he had in mind as well. Reaching around, he takes one of her breasts in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, twisting the hardening nipple as his head slides past her fold, rubbing along her clit. The teasing eventually has its desired effect, getting a moan out of the girl even as she struggles to keep it in.

Back down outside, Michael's hands shake as he puts together the chicken coop. That monster was only doing this to punish them. He had been selfish in coming to see her, not thinking about what the man he had called father would do just out of spite. He looks up when the window opens, wanting to throw a rock through it and right at the man's head. Instead he looks back down and forces himself to work. The nails go in crooked, and the wood isn't as even as it should be. When he hears the sounds flowing down toward him, he nearly smashes his own thumb in with the hammer. "Damn you to hell, you perverted monster." Michael mutters under his breath. Each swing after that lands right on the nail. It helps that he's imagining Matthew's head in place of each one.
 
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