Chapter 36

Sunday July 15

JJ honestly did not know how she managed to hold her tongue for so long.

The nightmare that was her chastisement at the hands of Uncle Jamie was thankfully not repeated. Granted she was taken up each Sunday by each adult male in the family, but none of them made such a big production. For them it seemed that the prayer at the beginning was the main event, they could stretch that out for a good fifteen minutes easily. Then it was over the knee and six quick swats that barely stung and were delivered in seconds before her skirts were back down again. It wasn't the pain, which was over in moments, it was the humiliation of having to bare herself and be debased before each of them. And it didn't leave her feeling contrite, it left her angry. How dare they, really? She had done nothing but try to help around here. And even if she had done something wrong this was no kind of humane punishment. God help them should they ever try it on Henry, they'd know what a real beating felt like.

No, all this punishment did was make her try harder to get away from here. To that end she volunteered to go work with the slaves as much as possible, in the hopes that she could gain their trust and maybe find a way out through them. But after the first few visits her hope started dimming. Uncle Steve had set up a remarkably comfortable set of quarters for them. Far from the dirt floor cabins and cruel overseers of the past he had instead contacted with a professional company which provided prefabricated housing and management systems. The quarters were converted shipping containers, without cooking facilities but each one with its own full bath and set of beds, anywhere from one full and one bunk for a small family to two bunks for single people to up to seven bunks and a full bed for a larger group. They even came with televisions, ones that only showed the Brethren satellite service, but still.

There was also a chow hall which was restocked from a central location each day. It was mostly fast food style meals, fresh fruits and vegetables were in short supply, but most of the slaves explained to her that those were the kinds of things they ate before this all happened so they were pleased with the diet. There was even a nursery and school for looking after the children under ten, considered too young to work. Granted it taught reading, writing, arithmetic and indoctrination but the parents were actually appreciative. It was Christian, they said, and the children were made to behave. They were paddled if they didn't, which was considered an effective way of teaching them their place. Of course before the breakup the public schools were still allowed the paddle, so there was no difference there. The only difference was that they were being taught their Bible, which should help build good moral character, and that any gang problems were entirely eliminated.

None of the adults were ever lashed, they said. No, if you weren't willing to work you were traded off. Probably to someplace much worse than this, so everyone behaved themselves and worked hard. It was simple, they told her, go along and get along.

With work, food, housing, school for their children, clothing to wear, laundry done regularly, medical checkups, and a day off a week they were all disturbingly happy. None of them wanted to risk leaving and ending up somewhere else. This was a good place, they said, not a bad deal for having their debts erased. And in another six years they could go try to find work again.

After a month JJ gave it up. Just going out there depressed her.

On the last Sunday of her punishment she mounted the stairs with quiet resignation. The sooner she got this over with the happier she would be. She'd been extra careful this entire time, always polite, soft voiced, being sure to ask not tell. There wasn't any reason to repeat this cycle, after tonight it would be over and after all this time meet and mild had become a habit. She used the bathroom and left her undies on the laundry hamper and then went to stand by the bed and wait.

It wasn't until the door opened that she realized that it was Michael's night.

Ever since Uncle Steve had announced her punishment she'd become increasingly aware of Michael's attention. Even though he had a wife who adored him and even though she always carefully hid every inch from ankle to elbow to collarbone beneath multiple layers of loose fabric she kept feeling his eyes following her, checking her over in that way men could have. It was disconcerting, even frightening when you considered the rules these days. When he came in her stomach knotted. He could do anything, she realized, and if she fought back they could send Henry away.

Michael looked her over, just once, before he stepped to the restroom. She waited, silent and unmoving as he carefully washed his hands and then returned. "Let us pray." He said. She obediently dropped to his knees and waited through the prayer, her heart pounding. Survive, she thought, do whatever you have to do to survive. Will would understand, she knew that.

The prayer ended and Michael sat on the edge of the bed. It no longer felt awkward to drape herself over someone's knee, to lean on a pillow and let them pin her arms down, to entangle her legs and keep them open and still. But when her skirts came up she shuddered. She jerked and shuddered more when she felt his hand on her there. He's not using a belt, she thought, he wants this to be intimate. "No belt?" She asked quietly.

"I don't think it's needed." He replied. Then he brought his hand down sharply against her skin.

Over and over he repeated this, a sharp slap followed by a touch. It did not surprise her when her body began reacting. It's just nerves, she thought, stimulate them and they react. But Michael saw and focused in on that, shifting his aim to the places that seemed to cause a greater reaction. Finally his wandering fingers touched her just there and she reacted before she could think. "Don't."

"Now you don't get to say that Jenny." He said. "This is your last chastisement. Let's make that clear now."

JJ watched as he reached over and picked up the belt, cracking it against her already sensitive skin harder than anyone had before. She could help the cry that came from her then as the blow burned into her skin.

"Quiet yourself in the pillow." He said, "You don't want to scare the children." And with that the rain of blows began.

She lost count after twenty, lost her control after forty. The blows kept coming down over and over until she was literally screaming into the pillow, trying to squirm away from the pain. I can't, she thought, I can't bear it. Stop, please dear god stop. But it didn't stop. It went on and on and on.

Finally, though, Michael did stop. He put down the belt and for a moment all she felt was the burn of her skin as the blood finally started to settle. Then his fingers found her once more and she gasped in a different way at the sudden shock of pleasure.

That was all though. He set her back on her knees and got up. For a long moment she felt his eyes upon her, and then she heard him walk out and close the door behind him. It took a moment for her to get her balance back; when she did she got to her feet and went to the bathroom to survey the damage. Her backside and the backs of her thighs were striped with red welts, and bruises were already in the offering. But what was more disturbing was the level of arousal she felt. If Will had been here she would have been begging him for attention, begging to mix the pain with pleasure.

At least I never have to do that again, she thought as she quickly washed the tears from her face and tried to cool down. I never have to do that again.

When she went downstairs she felt Michael's eyes on her once again. She immediately went to the kitchen with the other women. It was much safer there.

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Note: I toned this chapter down slightly for the M rating. You can find the full version on my AO3 account.