You stared at the drain, watching the swirls of water and soap suds circle around its rim before disappearing down into darkness. You stood under the shower head and let the warm water cascade over your back. It was soothing, comforting. Until the water hit the throbbing and raw skin of your ass and your wrists.
You bit your lip and grimaced in pain. You had to endure it if you wanted to be clean, to wash away the physical evidence of the shame and degradation of what Joel forced upon you. Using a washcloth you gingerly wiped away the cum that had dried on your backside. You had not been brave enough to assess the damage in the mirror just yet, but when you grazed your fingertips over the area you had an idea of just how bad it was.
Your body felt so weak, so tired. When you were finished washing away Joel's cum you moved the washcloth down to your vulva. You whimpered as you carefully cleaned yourself, the minute tears at the entrance of your vagina stinging. Your walls ached.
When you were done you leaned your forehead against the tiled wall with your eyes closed. You were sure you could fall asleep standing where you were - and you probably would - if not for the shower gradually turning more and more cold. You turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower to dry yourself with a towel, mindful of the angry raised welts on the cheeks of your ass.
Instead of dressing into a new set of pyjamas, you slipped naked into your bed and under the blanket. You positioned yourself on your side so that nothing was touching your back, scared to aggravate your injuries. You pulled your pillow into your stomach and curled up like a ball around it and cried. Eventually you succumbed to the fatigue and fell into a heavy sleep.
******
The following morning you somehow managed to wake up on time, get dressed, eat an apple for breakfast, and then arrive for your teaching lesson five minutes early. You appeared fresh faced and energetic, but inwardly you felt as though you were close to dissociating, teetering between numbness and hysteria.
In the classroom you avoided sitting down. You stood for the whole lesson as you taught the children about the lifecycles of insects, utilising the chalkboard and the book Maude had found you at the library. And even though the cuffs of your blouse were rubbing against your hidden wrists and irritating the skin there, you tried hard to focus on the lesson and be present, to adopt the calm, nurturing persona that the children knew you by. It wouldn't be fair to them if you cracked now, if you showed them a chink in the amour, not when they trusted you and loved you as their caretaker and teacher. This job gave you a purpose and sense of stability and you were adamant not to let Joel ruin that for you now.
When it was time for lunch and the school bell rang in the corridor, the children all scrambled out of the classroom to go eat their lunches and play outside. As soon as you were alone in the room you let out a heavy sigh of relief, grateful for the opportunity to unmask.
You tried to sit down in the chair at your desk, gingerly positioning yourself on the edge, half off the seat. You hissed at the dull pain thrumming in the meat of your ass and gripped onto the desk for support. Fuck, you wouldn't be surprised if you were bleeding right now.
You hesitantly leaned forward to rest your elbows on the desk, then cradled your head in your hands. You sighed again and let the muscles in your body sag a little.
You were unable to fully relax as your mind began to project flashbacks of last night; images of Joel's face, the sensations of his body, the sounds of the whip cracking your flash, of his hips smacking against yours, all burned into your memory.
The depth of pain you felt, both physically and emotionally, was unprecedented in your relationship with Joel. Yes, he had always been rough, at times uncaring of your comfort, but the hurt he had inflicted upon you last night was the first time he had ever genuinely frightened you.
You were well aware that he could be ruthless, that he was capable of great cruelty - you'd heard the rumours of his past as an infamous raider. And although Joel never talked about his past you quickly surmised that he had committed some acts of unspeakable violence.
You had heard the snippets of gossip about his barbaric pragmatism as a patrolman, too. The ways he would execute raiders and kill infected without a sliver of hesitation, the sniper like precision of his marksmanship, his ability to kill someone with his bare hands.
His violent reputation was justified and had earned him the respect (and even a bit of fear) of every person in Jackson, including yours. Perhaps the foreboding mystique surrounding Joel added to the allure you felt for him. Maybe you were even drawn to the sense of danger he exuded.
But despite this attraction, you couldn't ever have imagined him directing an ounce of rage or hostility towards you. You had never witnessed the extent of his dark side first hand. Not until you were confronted with his icy glare in your bedroom and the subsequent punishment of his belt. The depraved rage you saw in his eyes last night was now seared into your very core. Your splintered heart was wounded and fearful.
Joel had never been overtly considerate or encouraging of your emotions. He never really asked you what you were feeling or what you wanted (unless he was fucking you in that moment). Early on in the relationship, or whatever it was that you and Joel shared, you had accepted that he was not as expressive or emotionally open as you wished. But you understood it was just who he was, either through natural temperament or from the years of struggle and survival in this world, or both.
There were times when Joel had been tender and affectionate, though, especially in the beginning. Sacred moments that you both dare not openly acknowledge. Like in the middle of the night when you were both snuggled under the sheets and he would pull you close to his chest, wrap you in his strong arms, and kiss the top of your head. The blissful pockets of physical affection were enough to placate you for a while, until your heart could no longer repress it's hunger for more. The yearning for unconditional love, a family of your own, someone to share your life with.
You didn't know if he ever loved you or truly cared about you. But if he had not, why was he so possessive?
You had discovered the jealous streak of his personality quite quickly. The subtle displays of displeasure - the flare of his nostrils, the hard set of his jaw, the flash of anger in his eyes, whenever a man even looked your way. You used to find it sort of endearing. It made you feel wanted.
In a public setting no one would guess that Joel would be stealthily watching you and taking note of who you were interacting with and your body language. No one seemed to realise that Joel was an expert at appearing nonchalant while observing and absorbing every thing in his surrounding environment, constantly vigilant. Protecting what was his.
If he saw a man, regardless of age, had struck up conversation with you at the Tipsy Bison or the cafeteria, Joel would be sure to chastise you later on. It didn't matter that you weren't interested in anyone but him. It didn't matter that you only politely responded in a way that indicated you weren't interested. That wasn't enough for Joel.
As you became more attached to Joel and more expressive with your affection, it seemed Joel became more aggressive with your body. What started as light dirty talk during sex progressed into an exercise of control and sacrifice, with Joel fucking you mercilessly and covering your body with hickies and bruises with an almost obsessive need to stake his claim.
He hated anyone being too close to you. He would have preferred you to be completely isolated from everyone else, focused only on tending to he and Ellie. He dislikes your dedication to your duties and your preoccupation with your friends, who he disapproved of. Joel criticised them for being too loud or opinionated, accusing them of being too promiscuous. You knew he genuinely considered a couple of them to be bad influences just because they talked about sex and dating.
But how could Joel be so jealous when he didn't want to make your relationship official? Was it just sex to him? Why did he want to control you so much yet refuse to publicly assert his ownership? His greed only reinforced the validity of that tiny niggling belief that had been buried inside your heart since the day you lost your family. The notion that you would always be alone. That you did not deserve to be happy. That you were worthless.
And what was worse....you still loved Joel. Despite the agony he had inflicted, you still fucking wanted him.
Maybe you were just fucking broken. Irretrievably broken.
The flurry of thoughts and questions circulating in your mind was making you feel dizzy. You groaned and dug your palms into your eye sockets. You willed yourself not to start crying again.
Fuck fuck fuck I feel like I'm going crazy.
Then a knock at the wooden classroom door suddenly shattered your thoughts. Your head snapped up, startled to find Oscar standing at the door. He was wearing jeans and a slightly tattered dark blue sweater, a hand clutching the strap of a satchel slung over one shoulder. His eyes peered at you behind his round spectacles with a curious concern, his thick eyebrows knitted together.
"Hey," he cooed. "Mind if I come in?"
"Hi," you nodded and cleared your throat. "Yes, ofcourse."
You winced slightly at the croakiness of your voice and hoped Oscar didn't notice how fragile you sounded. You looked away and smoothed your hands over your blouse before sitting up straighter in an attempt to appear more composed. Oscar approached your desk with cautious slow steps, one leg limping slightly, the soles of his boots thudding across the floor.
You braced your hands on the desk and rose up from your chair, your lips pursed with anticipation of the painful sting of your flesh. You saw him open his mouth but you spoke before he could.
"Why are you here? How can I help you?"
"Well," Oscar came to stand at the desk but stayed a few steps away from you, a clear attempt to respect your space. He swung his satchel off of his shoulder and plonked it ontop of your desk. "I found something for you, actually."
You looked at him with an eyebrow raised quizzically. He looked back and grinned, his brown eyes shining with warmth. Your eyes flickered down to the bag as Oscar flipped open the satchel and reached in. From it's confines he retrieved a hard cover book. You instantly recognised the tiny pictures of different insects decorating the spine of the book, and your mouth fell open in surprise.
"Oscar, is that--"
"Kids Bug Science Volume III," Oscar announced proudly with a chuckle, holding up the book with both hands for you to see the cover. It was the next installment of the insect series you had been using to teach with, a resource you hadn't thought you'd ever be lucky enough to find.
"Oh my gosh, no way!" You laughed, a hand shooting up to cover the large smile you were unable to hold back. Your eyes looked from the book to Oscar in wonderment. "Where did you find it?"
"Well, I was rummaging around the storeroom crawl space, trying to fix a wire, and I found a bunch of books up there." Oscar held the book out for you to take. "This was one of 'em."
You accepted the book and held it in your hands, your thumbs tracing over the cover. "I can't believe it,' you whispered.
"I'm sorry I couldn't wait until your next shift at the library," Oscar said, sounding slightly sheepish. "Got excited when I saw it and wanted to give it to you straight away."
You looked up from the book and met his gaze. There was a gentle expression in his beautiful brown eyes now, a mix of shy affection and sadness.
"Thank you," you said softly as you clutched the book to your chest. "Really. I appreciate this so much."
Oscar nodded once and looked down before adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "You're welcome." He collected his satchel and hitched it back over his shoulder. "I know it means alot to you. And for the kids."
You put the book down on your desk and chewed your bottom lip, unsure what to say next. You were worried that he could somehow detect what had happened with Joel, like there was some visible sign on your face that announced how much of a slut you were, how Joel made you cum so hard after abusing you, how disgusting you were to still have feelings for a man who degraded you. Your cheeks blushed involuntarily.
Suddenly the thought of Joel somehow seeing you right now, alone with Oscar in your classroom, pierced through your mind and filled your stomach with dread. You tried to swallow but your throat felt so dry. Oscar noticed the change in your expression and leaned in closer towards you immediately.
"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, his tone soft but serious.
"Yeah, I'm okay," you replied in a small voice, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just a bit tired."
Oscar placed a tentative hand on your shoulder. The unexpected contact made you stiffen a little and your face turned up to look at him. He was looking down at you, his hooded brown eyes studying your face, both his orbs shifting between yours, as if searching for something. The tender concern in his expression made you feel like lunging into his arms to feel him hold you and comfort you.
"You can tell me anything, like if something's bothering you," he said quietly. "Only if you want to, ofcourse. I'm here, if you would like to talk."
"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you, Oscar."
You remained staring at one another with Oscar's warm hand on your shoulder, the silence between you feeling increasingly intimate as each second passed. You were sure Oscar felt it too; it was evident in the way his eyes bored into yours, how his mouth opened slightly and his tongue darted over his bottom lip.
Without warning a loud knock at the classroom door came crashing through the private bubble surrounding you and Oscar, making you both step back from one another with instinctive haste. It was one of your students, a little boy, who suddenly began to ramble loudly about one of the soccer balls deflating again.
"Whoa, slow down little man. I'll be there in a minute with the pump," you replied.
He nodded enthusiastically and then ran back outside to the yard. You and Oscar glanced back at each other and breathed a small laugh together, the tension relieved between you.
"I better go," he ran a hand through his curly black hair. "Sorry for interrupting your day."
"Why are you saying sorry?" You turned your body to face him and smiled. "Thank you
For thinking of me and coming by and to give me the book. It'll be so useful in my next few lessons."
Oscar returned your smile. "Anytime. Well then...I guess I'll see you at the library sometime?"
His thick eyebrows raised and there was a slight inquisitive lilt to his voice, as if he was wanting confirmation that he would actually see you again.
"Yeah, ofcourse. My next shift is in two days," you replied, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
"Great," Oscar said, his eyes roaming over your face and hair for a brief moment, his own features unreadable to you. "I'll see ya then."
He turned on his heel and you watched him walk back to the door, his limp slightly more prominent now because he stood taller, his posture more straight, prouder. When he disappeared through the threshold you looked down at the book and traced the cover with your fingertips. Although you had only spent a short time with Oscar, you had never known a man to be so considerate, so caring.
It was new. And it felt good.
It was only when he was gone that you realised you could still smell the faint cinnamon scent around you, the smell that you would eventually come to associate with Oscar.
******
After finishing at the school that afternoon you walked across the townships to visit Maude at her cottage. You sunk into the cushion of an armchair in her loungeroom while her housemate, another elderly lady, served you cups of tea. You spent an hour listening to them detail Maude's sickness and the type of medicine the doctor prescribed her, how her housemate tended to her day and night, and how caring Tommy and Maria had been. It was close to dinner time when you said goodbye and left to go home.
You tucked the science book into the crook of your arm as you strolled through the back streets toward your cottage, consciously avoiding the busier sections of the streets in order to reach home quicker.
You weren't in the mood to eat dinner in the mess hall this evening. You did not feel energetic enough to socialise with anyone or to continue masking the force of emotions plaguing your insides. You had no appetite, anyway. The girls would probably wonder where you were but that didn't matter. They knew you were more introverted, more content with retreating into your own world than socialising unnecessarily, especially at meal times.
You could visualise yourself curled up in bed under the comforting weight of your blanket with a favourite book in your hand. It was exactly what you needed.
When you arrived at your home you were surprised to see Ellie sitting on your porch, her legs crossed. She was tossing a pocketknife into the air and catching it in one hand with practiced ease. You always secretly enjoyed seeing her relaxed like this, so carefree and youthful. When her face was pulled into her large, charming smile and her eyes sparkled mischievously. Her heart flooded with great affection for Ellie when you were reminded of just how soft she was inside. She could always make you laugh with some silly joke or her vulgar humour. You were always pleased to see her, except today was different. She reminded you too much of Joel.
"Hey," you greeted her, trying your best to sound upbeat as you trudged up to the porch. "What're you doing on my property, kiddo?"
"Hey!" Ellie grinned at you. She scrambled to stand up and jammed the knife back in her jeans pocket. "Wanted to know if you wanna get dinner together. I needa pick your brain about some comic ideas I got going on."
You pinched your eyes shut and sighed. "Oh El," you murmured quietly. "I'm not really up for hanging out tonight, I'm sorry."
You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat immediately after the words left your mouth. You should've known this was coming. The inevitable first time you would disappoint Ellie because you couldn't face being reminded of Joel.
"Oh," Ellie mumbled. "You okay? You look kinda pale."
You looked at her and mustered a weak smile. "Yeah, I'm just super tired. Busy day at school."
Ellie puffed her cheeks and exhaled a breath of air then looked down. Her disappointment was evident. "'Kay," she kicked at some sawdust on your porch. "Maybe next time, I guess."
Seeing Ellie look so dejected made you feel even worse. You knew she had struggled for so long - struggled to fit into the community, to adjust to life outside the QZ, to grow into a young woman without the guidance of a mother. You understood that she craved connection and acceptance more than she would ever willingly admit. Ellie had come to trust you and respect you enough to let her vulnerability occasionally peek through. You couldn't let her down like this, not when she wanted to share something or part of herself with you.
You sighed and reached out to grab her hand. Her eyes shifted up to meet yours.
"El," you squeezed her small hand gently. "I'd love to. Just let me put this book inside first."
Ellie's face instantly lit up. "Cool." She glanced at the science book you were holding and scrunched her nose. "The fuck is bug science?"
******
As you walked side by side through the mess hall doors, you were attentively listening to Ellie describe the new character she had created for the comic book she was working on. It was only after collecting a meal tray from the serving counter that you noticed the group of rangers already seated across the hall.
Their loud conversation, which was occasionally punctuated with booming laughter, compelled you and Ellie to turn and look in their direction.
"Geez, who the fuck is being so loud?" She muttered in annoyance.
You spotted the five men sitting at a round table near the back of the hall, their broad shoulders and thick arms occupying the space with You recognised them as being the senior patrolmen of Jackson, including Troy, Tommy and Joel.
Joel.
When your eyes found Joel you saw he was already watching you and Ellie, chewing the inside of his cheek, the expression in his eyes unreadable. He was the only one of them not talking or joking as he absentmindedly poked at his food with a fork.
Your pulse began to race and your cheeks flushed. You gripped your fingers around the dinner tray tightly and quickly lowered your gaze in submissive humility, the depressing mixture of shame and fear once again engulfing you whole. You wanted so badly to run away and hide. But you knew you couldn't. You felt frozen, like a deer in the headlights. You shouldn't have given into Ellie so easily, you should've just run inside the house and--
"Ugh, nevermind, it's just Joel and his girlfriends." Ellie said with a roll of her eyes. She jerked her head towards a free table nearby. "Come on, let's sit."
When you didn't move, Ellie bumped your hip with hers playfully. "Hey, hurry up, before someone steals our table."
You suppressed the panic induced bile rising in your throat and followed Ellie to a table, the cutlery on your tray clanking from the jittery shaking of your hands.
******
Goddamn, you look pretty today.
Joel watched you take a seat at one of the tables with careful deliberation. You were positioned sideways from his line of vision, your face obscured by a section of hair that had fallen loose from the purple ribbon you had tied around it. He could see how your body tensed up, your back stiff, as if bracing for pain.
Well, you must be in pain, after what he did to you last night.
A sense of pride then bloomed in his chest and he wished he could see your face clearly. The memory of you positioned on your knees below him, your wrists bound, your whipped ass jiggling as he assaulted you, flashed through his mind. It made Joel's cock twitch in his jeans.
Fuck, he wanted to have you again, right now.
Troy leaned forward into the table and clicked his fingers quickly to get the attention of the other men. Joel and the others looked at Troy.
"Hey," he hissed, "see that pretty little mouse with Joel's daughter, over there?"
Troy nodded his head toward where you sat with Ellie. The other rangers, including Joel, shifted their gaze over to you. You toyed with your fork, your head nodding at something Ellie was saying. You were totally oblivious to their stares.
Always so innocent.
"Estrada was eatin' with her the other day." Troy murmured slyly. "Ya think he might be screwin' her?"
The lewd question caught Joel off guard, making his breath catch in his throat. Hearing someone talk about you in such a crude way provoked a boiling rage to course through his veins. He clenched his jaw and flexed his fist under the table discreetly. He was ready to punch Troy in his stupid fucking face.
A few of them sniggered before they all turned their attention back to their trays of food.
"Estrada?" One of the patrolmen, Harry, scoffed. "I thought he was gay."
"He ain't gay," Tommy interjected, rolling his eyes. "Fuck sake, man."
"Since when does Estrada get pussy like that?" Harry grumbled.
Joel listened closely to what was being said while stabbing his food with his fork, feigning disinterest. The muscle in his jaw ticked. Tommy glanced at him.
"Since he stopped workin' patrol, I guess. He must have more time to waste chasin' tail now," another of them guffawed.
"Hey now, enough of that talk," Tommy ordered firmly. "They just work together, is all. So give it a rest."
Troy held up his hands in front of him in a pose of surrender. "Alright, alright, el capitan, just shootin' the shit is all."
Joel couldn't take it anymore. He dropped his fork down onto the tray with a clang, then pushed his chair away from the table and stood up unceremoniously.
"Hey, where you--" Tommy began.
"Finished," Joel grunted.
He stalked out of the mess hall without another word, shoving the door open and stepping out into the starry night. Joel shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and trudged down the street away from the mess hall. His senses felt heightened, as if he were close to imploding, as the fury seethed throughout his body.
He fucking hated anyone talking about you like they did. Like you were some piece of meat. Like you could ever belong to anyone but him. It pissed Joel off so much that he had to leave; he couldn't trust himself not to beat the shit out of Troy or Harry or any of the others. Tommy would kill him. Joel stormed on towards his house with his chest heaving from impotent rage.
Fuck what anyone else thought. You were his. He knew it, and you knew it. He had made sure of that. That's all that mattered.
And he was giving you time to come back to him on your own accord, to get over this little phase of insolence. You would learn your lesson and realise where your rightful place was. You would come crawling back to him - willingly.
Wouldn't you?
Yes. Ofcourse. You needed him. Just as you needed Ellie and she needed you.
You couldn't just leave. No fucking way.
He was almost home when Joel became aware that his heart was pounding and his breathing was becoming more rapid. His throat felt dry and his chest felt constricted. He managed to make it to his house in time to lurch against his front door and let his weight stabilise against it. His eyes screwed shut and he pressed his forehead against the wood. He inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled, then repeated the step, all the while waiting for the panic to dissipate. He was grateful for the dark of the night, the privacy it allowed.
After a few minutes Joel was able to regulate his breathing and calm down. The tightness in his chest loosened. He calmly unlocked the door and ambled inside the living room. He had already decided he was getting drunk tonight. And he would pay you another visit.