No Consent: Moving in

This is the rework of a self-published auto-biographical story (2008), rewritten for this blog. Names of characters have been changed.
Content warning: mental and physical abuse, misogyny.

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do.

Moving in
24 to 31 March 1994

Continued from… The work trip (part 2)

22 March
In a panic, and not taking any time to think about it, Annie and her kids moved to the smallholding. Fred had done nothing to console her after the burglary. In fact, he perfectly fulfilled his self-imposed task to frighten her even more. Her fear of being in her house after the burglary and her wanting to create a safe haven for her children, weighed heavier than her doubt about her relationship with Fred.

Within a month after they had moved to the smallholding, Annie regretted it.

Annie was assigned her own room in the house on the smallholding. Fred and Fran’s girls had a big room with two bunk beds, and Annie’s children would share the room with them.

That very first evening they agreed on one fundamental rule: one night Fran would sleep with her husband, and the next night Annie would share the bed with Fred. At first, Annie didn’t want to agree to this. She felt like she was overstepping a boundary. However, with persuasion and vague threats from Fred’s side, she caved. The only condition that Annie had was that none of the children was ever to know about this arrangement. For the rest of her first evening under his roof, Fred was the charming and loving man that Annie had fallen in love with. Some of her doubts disappeared.

31 March
One week had passed since Annie and her children came to live on the smallholding. In that week, Annie had returned to her room a couple of times — disillusioned. Fred refused any physical contact with her, except when they were having sex.

“If you want to cling to someone,” he snapped a couple of times, “go cling to Fran. She knows that I hate it when someone hangs around me like that!”
Annie didn’t dare to ask him why he had allowed or even initiated the physical contact in the beginning of their relationship. She could still recall his furious eyes at the barbecue on the southern beach and she didn’t want to provoke him in any way.

Another incident that was imprinted in her memory happened on her second night on the smallholding. Annie and Fran were getting ready to get in bath for the all too familiar routine that they followed before going to bed. Fred never walked into the bathroom when the women were in the bath, but that specific night he did. He totally ignored Annie.
“While we were away that weekend, I saw how this one washes herself. Show her how she should clean her cunt,” he bluntly ordered his wife.

Annie was crushed. She endured the humiliating voice of Fran while she received tuition from her. Fran took a sponge, put some special soap on it and pushed it all the way into her vagina. She wiggled around with her fingers, moving the sponge around and then she pulled the sponge out. Fred had taught Fran to do it this way and Fran never went against his wishes. After their bath, Fran showed Annie how to use a special lotion on and inside her pussy.

As if the first week of new surroundings and routine wasn’t enough to adjust to, Annie and Fran received a lecture from Fred. Fran knew what he was going to say; Annie had no idea.
“I want you and Fran to fall in love with each other. During the day, I want to hear you tell each other that you are in love. I want to see you touch each other, stroke each other. But be careful when the kids are around.”
According to Fred, Annie and Fran being in love with each other was one of the things they needed to make their love triangle succeed. Annie said nothing after Fred made this demand. Fran was willing to live according to Fred’s wishes, but Annie was not happy with it at all. Love wasn’t something she could turn on and off with a switch. She wasn’t in love with Fran and didn’t want to be in love with her. She was in love with Fred.

But, was she really in love with him?

* * * * *

To be continued… Getting to know them

© Rebel’s Notes

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