The Tithe That Binds

by Candace Smith

  Mara sobbed and trembled, far too terrified to refuse his demand. Her bottom was clenching and opening, sorely abused and leaking his juice down her thighs. When he was satisfied with her effort, he rose and began to dress, leaving her kneeling on the bed and miserably contemplating what other horrors this new day would bring.

  When Elijah sat on the bed to put on his boots, Mara wanted to run. She continued to tremble behind him. “I will be gone for three days, and you will follow your Mistress’s orders. She will bring you to Caleb for correction if you deny her, and I have instructed him to punish you with a three point whipping… the same as the tithe’s display from the auction.”

  Mara thought about poor little Suzy’s horrible whipping and she gasped. The devil was not done speaking. “When I return, if I see evidence of those welts of punishment, you will then answer to me.” He turned and smiled at her, though his eyes held a frightening glare of warning. “Do you understand?”

  Mara nodded, and his hand snaked out and gripped her nipple, twisting it painfully. “Do you understand?” he repeated.

  “Yyyes, Master.” Oh, god. Oh, help me. If there was any solace she could hold onto, it was the knowledge that he would be gone for a few days.

  Apparently, the devil’s lust was quenched with the pre-dawn tryst. Elijah sat at his place at the table and watched Gabrielle. Mara knelt by her chair, staring at the floor. “Mara?”

  She raised her head, and said, “Yes, Mistress?”

  Gabrielle was holding the leather ring and arching her brow. It would become an expression that Mara would quickly learn meant the difference between obeying on her own and being forced to follow her Mistress’s order while being painfully restrained or punished. “Do we need this?”

  Mara glanced at Eli and she saw that he was staring at her. His eyes narrowed slightly in warning. “No, Mistress.”

  “And what is it you are to do?” Gabrielle pressed.

  “I am to worship you for my meal, Mistress,” Mara whispered.

  Gabrielle was already slickening from the misery in her tithe’s eyes. Her slave would learn perfection. “And how are you to worship your Mistress?”

  Mara’s whole body quivered with fear, and her throat tightened so that she could not speak. Gabrielle held her chin and stroked her cheek with her thumb. “You are to worship your Mistress’s pussy. Ask me if you may do this for your meal.” The pleading humiliation in the crystal blue eyes, misery and tears filling them, was wonderfully arousing.

  “Please, Mistress.” Mara’s voice was barely a whisper. “May I worship your pussy for my meal?”

  Gabrielle laid the ring on the table and she reached behind her tithe and unhooked her wrists. She spread her legs, and Mara was left to lift her long skirt with shaking hands. The same trembling hands spread her Mistress’ pussy, and Gabrielle closed her eyes, relishing the moment of the first swipe of the girl’s tongue. Her hand dropped down to stroke the girl’s hair, and she felt Mara’s tears mixing in with her cream.

  After what seemed like a very long time, Mara realized the woman was not going to crush her between her strong thighs. Her fingers spread the soft lips further and she searched for her clit again. This would get the inevitable act over with quicker. Over the next few meals, Mara worked at experimenting until she found what gave her Mistress the most pleasure. She never realized when the demand of worshipping her Mistress before meals became an expected routine and had stopped being repulsive to her.

  Chapter IV

  Just as breakfast had ended and Mara was told to wash the dishes, there was a knock on the door. She stood still with a plate in her hand, staring at the red handled pump.

  Gabrielle expected Minerva was arriving early, perhaps to say goodbye to her son. Instead, Eli’s brother, Abram, walked in. Mara turned to see the owner of the new voice. The man was a few inches shorter than the devil, and his features were as pale as Elijah’s were dark. He was very muscular with white-blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Even with these physical differences, the man had the same dangerous air about him. Mara quickly turned her attention back to the sink.

  “Abram, I’m sorry about the turn-around. Any trouble with Tommy McEnroe?”

  “No. The bastard is such a coward. We finally gagged him when he wouldn’t stop trying to bribe his way out of it. Thing is, when we got to Henry’s, Sarah called me aside. We have another situation, perhaps a good one. I’ll leave it to you to decide.”

  Elijah was intrigued. “Have a seat. What’s going on?”

  Abram whispered to Gabrielle, “Is that Sarah’s girl?” Gabrielle nodded. “Well, I guess it don’t matter. Sarah found her phone. I guess she wasn’t supposed to bring it to the farm. Sarah didn’t know she had it until after you collected her. She had a bunch of text messages from a girl back home on it.” Abram handed Eli a picture of Jill that Sarah had found in Debra’s wallet.

  “The girl is coming to the farm, expecting to see Mara,” Abram explained.

  “What’s Sarah planning on telling her?”

  “Might not have to tell her anything, Eli. The girl lied to her parents and told them she was headed about fifty miles in the other direction. That’s almost six hundred miles west of the farm, and her folks have no idea she was coming this way.”

  Elijah studied the picture again. The girl was pretty. Not as good-looking as Mara, but she had a healthy strong look about her. A part of him wished his mother was there to question Mara about her, but Eli decided to give Gabrielle the opportunity. “Gabrielle, we need some information on the girl.”

  Gabrielle saw that Mara had finished the dishes and she was still standing at the sink. She snapped her fingers. Mara turned and walked slowly to her chair, glancing once at Abram before she knelt. Gabrielle took the picture from Eli, and held it in front of Mara’s face. There was a gasp, and her tithe began shaking her head in horror.

  “Who is she?”

  “No,” Debra cried. Oh god. She had completely forgotten about the text messages and that Jill would be driving to the farm. Gabrielle reached down and gripped her breast, squeezing bruises into the pale flesh. Debra tried to pry her fingers off, screaming, “Please. Oh, god. Jill has nothing to do with this.”

  Gabrielle arched her eyebrow, leaned down glaring at her tithe’s clawing fingers, and whispered, “I will have Abram hold you by your nipples while Elijah blisters your cunt with a cane, and then have every man in the settlement fuck that tight little ass of yours.” Gabrielle knew that Eli had no time to mess with her stalling… not with the chance of Chris hiding Sherry on them or taking off.

  Debra’s hands dropped as though she had been burned. “She’s… she’s just someone from school,” she cried. She had not been able to hear Abram’s earlier conversation with Eli, but she realized they knew that Jill would be at the farm. My phone. Mom must have found my phone. Oh, Jill. Please… please don’t come. Debra knew that her wish would go unheeded. Jill was looking forward to the chance of spending the summer with her too much.

  “She has a boyfriend?” Gabrielle pried. She relaxed her hold and stroked over the tithe’s breast, keeping her hand close enough to grip again, should it be necessary.

  Debra’s mind grasped the slight hope. “Yes. Yes, she’s dated Ben Jameson since last year. He’d look for her.”

  “At the college, maybe,” Gabrielle smiled. She looked up at Elijah. “Well, she’d be another slut who can’t keep her legs together, but at least she’s broken in.” There was no way the boy would have been with her for so long, if he was not getting some measure of physical satisfaction. “Elijah, we rarely get an opportunity like this to add a completely new bloodline to the clan.

  Elijah made his decision. Even if the girl could not be tithed, they could send her to one of the work camps. “I’m bringing her back, Mara. I want answers, and if yours are different to hers, you’ll both be punished.”

  Mara was crying in gulping sobs. She hated confiding information about her friend, but she knew the devil would
keep his word. “I was going to try to get mom to let me go back home with her.”

  “Does she have any physical limitations?” Gabrielle asked. They certainly did not need another ‘Barbra McEnroe’ situation.

  Debra bowed her head, staring at the floor in silence. Gabrielle mashed her breast again, and she gasped and looked up at her. Any lie to try to get them not to take her friend would be easily discovered. Sarah knew as much about Jill as Debra did. “She broke her wrist last year.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked at Elijah and pleaded, “Please… please don’t bring her up here. Mom can just tell her I went someplace else for the weekend with dad. She’ll drive back home. I know she will.”

  “And wonder why you never called her again?” Eli asked. “I don’t think so.” He turned to Abram. “Can you get the Preacher and Shawn and ask them to join us?”

  Abram smiled. “As long as I’m in on it.”

  “I think we can work out something beneficial for both of us,” Eli suggested.

  Mara was released to kneel by her Mistress, and silent tears washed down her cheeks while the frightening, numbing truth sank in. Because of her, Jill was going to be brought to the settlement. Oh god, Jill. I’m so sorry.

  The Preacher and principal elder walked in with Abram and sat on the couch. Shawn said, “Abram’s explained the situation. Are we certain she can’t be traced?”

  “I’ll have Henry bury her car,” Eli suggested. “No. They won’t have any idea she came near here. It’s possible someone might ask Sarah, just because of her daughter’s friendship with the girl. All she needs to say is she didn’t see her.”

  The Preacher looked at Mara, contemplating the possibility. The clan rarely risked the chance of bringing outsiders to the settlement. It did seem the girl would be untraceable. “It would give us a new bloodline up here. I figure you already considered that.”

  Gabrielle handed them the picture. “Preacher, look at the hips on her. She’s a natural breeder. Settle her with the widows as a slave.”

  Elijah smiled at her. Her suggestion was perfect. The widows had turned down replacing their tithes because they had nothing of value to bid with. They depended on the charity of the clan to survive, and if the girl were a breeder then it would certainly make a welcome addition to offset their destitute position. “I want to alternate with Abram and use her for my sons. Gabrielle wants me to train Mara for a cart, and the pregnancies would have made it difficult.”

  Shawn looked at Mara, and he whispered to the Preacher. “I admit she’s a looker, like her mother, but she does have half McEnroe blood in her. The sooner we can thin that out of the clan the better. Look at the mess we’re in because of Chris. Shit, and Abram just got back from picking up Tommy.”

  The unfortunate truth about the McEnroe clan was their constant slip into incest. For generations, babies were born with questionable lineage, even if the mother was married. It had made them weak and lazy, and several had physical or mental limitations.

  The Preacher steepled his hands under his chin in thought. “Gabrielle, will you be willing to render your tithe infertile early so we don’t have complications?”

  The thought of not having to go through the moodiness of four breedings with the girl was a welcome thought, plus she would not lose her cart pony. “I have absolutely no qualms about it, as long as we can breed this new girl with Jason first. He’ll be marrying Charlotte before fall.”

  “I get her next?” Abram asked.

  “Then, Justin, and so on. It will take a little longer for the breedings, but it will leave Emily and Gabrielle with two unhindered tithes,” Eli suggested.

  “Emmy was concerned about Dee, anyway. Her hips are a little narrow and we figured she might have problems,” Abram admitted.

  The Preacher said, “As your tithe is responsible for this opportunity, I see no problem with that arrangement. She will be available for open use to the clan when she’s done breeding with your boys.” He turned to the elder. “Shawn, you’ll have to figure out an agreeable schedule to keep the lines in order. I think you might want to have the elders vote on giving Sarah a twenty-year hold on Henry’s farm in return for the girl. Mason Elliott is already pickin’ flowers for her, and with him on the flatlands helping Henry, their crop will more than make up for it.”

  Gabrielle had been watching Mara while the men talked. Every time they mentioned scenarios of how her friend was to be passed around as breeding stock, the girl squeezed her eyes closed and quivered with wrenching tears. In a rare moment of compassion, Gabrielle leaned down and whispered, “The widows will be good to her. As a new bloodline, they will not risk hard punishment while she’s pregnant.” The widows were Gabrielle’s aunts, and they had lost their husbands to the same mysterious illness that had claimed Gabrielle’s parents.

  Mara tried to stifle her sobs. These wicked, wicked people. How could this be happening?

  Elijah looked into Gabrielle’s eyes, questioning her unexpected gentleness. Gabrielle leaned over and whispered, “She’s feeling guilty, Eli. Training her for her own position makes her concentrate on herself. I need to get her mind off this girl or she’ll be too distracted. Her mind could even snap on me, and that is unacceptable. The exfoliation will keep her occupied until you get back. We can see how she’s dealing with it, then. I want you to tell the breeder, that my tithe had been setting her up. If the girl comes to the settlement hating her, I won’t have to worry about them conspiring together.”

  Mara barely noticed when the men left the cabin. She continued to kneel beside her Mistress, feeling miserable for herself, miserable for Jill, and miserable for being born into a family that had deceived her for her whole life.

  Minerva arrived, and Gabrielle left Mara kneeling by her chair while they sat at the table and she explained what was happening over tea. “And Eli and Abram get first breeding for my grandsons? With a new bloodline?” Minerva was ecstatic. Mara’s McEnroe lineage was the only worry she had about Gabrielle’s tithe. She agreed with the way Gabrielle had handled the situation when she noticed the obvious despondent depression shadowing the tithe.

  Tara walked through the door carrying a large basket. Gabrielle snapped her fingers, and she was pleasantly surprised that her tithe was at least cognizant enough to follow the order. Mara sank to her knees, not noticing Minerva’s surprised smile. “Mara, I want you to go with Tara to the bathhouse. You will follow her instructions.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Mara rose, and Gabrielle stared into her eyes while she unlatched her wrist cuffs. She left the ankle hobble on her.

  “She’s already acknowledging you?” Minerva asked. “After the scene yesterday, I was worried she would be stubborn.”

  “Like most McEnroes, she has no tolerance for pain. The slightest discomfort teaches her,” Gabrielle replied.

  “Well then, the exfoliation should turn out to be quite an experience for her.” Minerva smiled and could already sense the comfort of sadistic arousal building.

  As soon as the girls were outside, Tara whispered, “Oh my god. You must be scared to death to be tithed to Elijah and Gabrielle.”

  Mara began to cry again. “Has anyone ever gotten away from here?”

  “Drop that thought right now. The last one who tried, well, you don’t even want to know what happened when they caught her. And she was only tithed to a work camp guard. You’d never get away from the acquisitioner. I’ll give you a heads up, though. The rest of the tithes aren’t going to like you. Elijah is in line for principal elder, so that makes you a top tithe here.”

  “He’s horrible,” Mara cried. “The things they make me do; the things they’ve done to me…”

  “Mara, you’ve only been through first feeding. We all go through that. Trust me, when they get to their own little games, that’s when things get hard.”

  The girls made it across the camp to the shed overhanging the stream. There was a fire pit on the bank, and Tara explained how they heated the snow and freezing water in t
he winter. For now, they washed in the frigid water from the stream. Tara was pleased that they had the bathhouse to themselves. It was still early for the other tithes to begin arriving.

  “This is about the only time we have alone,” Tara explained.

  “What’s going to happen to me next?”

  Tara decided to be evasive. There was no sense scaring the new tithe more than she was. She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess that’s up to Gabrielle.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Nine years. Next year, I’m released from the tithe contract.”

  “You get to go home?” Mara wondered if she would have an ally to send back rescue for her.

  “No,” Tara answered. “We never go back to the flatlands. After your tithe is finished, and depending on how well Gabrielle says you did, you get placed anywhere from kitchens and laundry, to personal service for the new families just starting out. That’s the best position and where I hope to be placed. We can even marry one of the work camp men if we are recommended for personal service.”

  Tara noticed Mara was dragging her feet while they walked back to the cabin. “Come on. If we’re too late, we’ll be punished.”

  When they entered the cabin, Gabrielle and Minerva were both wearing aprons over their dresses. There was a heavy white cloth draped across the dining room table. Gabrielle said, “Mara, over here and lie down.”

  Mara glanced at Tara, but she was already moving to kneel beside her Mistress. She walked slowly towards the table and looked up at Gabrielle. With the arch of her Mistress’ brow, Mara did as she asked. It was futile to argue and she could not run with her ankles tied. She began to tremble when Gabrielle attached her wrist cuffs to the table straps, and she looked down to see Minerva securing her ankles. She was left spread-eagle on the table top.