She wiped at the sweat coalescing on her forehead, sitting off-kilter on the stump outside of the barn.  The summer heat was unbearable for a young woman who’d only just recently left the comforts of city living, and the stink of warm hay and manure assaulted her nostrils.

Some of her sisters, she was told, had learned to ignore the stench. The homespun sundress she wore clung insistently to her body at her chest and thighs, bringing her in mind of the now-missing sensation of underwear. They were some of the many things she’d had to leave behind since coming out here.

Boots shuffled through the straw in the building behind her. Zephyr was coming.

“Rachel?” His voice was soft but still sent an unseasonal chill down her spine. “Your sisters tell me that you were late for your chores this morning. That they had to collect the eggs and clean the sheds without you.”

He was not an imposing man. He was effeminate, thin, and even at his full height, he stood only a head taller than Rachel herself. His age was uncertain – even unshaven, his face was bare, and his long hair was unmarked by grey. At the same time, those hairless cheeks were gaunt, and his chest sallow behind his thin shirt. And his eyes… he had a stare that never seemed to stop, and even with the tiniest of glances he could see clear through any man or woman to the helpless, needy being within.

The leader of the Children fixed those eyes upon her, and the weight of his disapproval pressed Rachel firmly into her seat.

“I…” she tried, “I’m not used to getting up so early. If my sisters had just woken me up-“

He shushed her with a wave of his hand. “Abby and Lyric were doing as I had told them. Each one is responsible for her part. Now, I understand that when you lived in the city you might have slept late into the day, but not here. Here you will awaken like the others when the cock sounds. Isn’t that fair?”

Rachel nodded, her face downcast, a mask of penitence. But the twitching of her lip betrayed her.

“You’re laughing.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just… does anyone say ‘cock’ and not mean…”

He sighed. “It does sound pretentious, doesn’t it?”

“A little.”

“Fine. ‘When the rooster crows’, then.”

“Yes, Zephyr. And I promise I will be up and working tomorrow. You have my word.” She rose to her feet, but found herself stopped by Zephyr’s hand on her shoulder. He stood impassively, saying nothing. A lump like a fist swelled in her throat.

“Zephyr? Is there something else?”

He nodded. “There is a price to be paid. Do you remember Kevin’s?”

Rachel frantically searched her memory. Shortly after arriving at Home, she’d overheard Abby’s oldest son complaining that this wasn’t his house, that Zephyr wasn’t his father. Zephyr had been patient and welcoming at first, but when the sixteen-year-old insisted that he wanted his ‘real’ home, Zephyr had taken off Kevin’s trousers and…

Her eyes widened. “No.”

Zephyr nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

“But I’m a grown woman!”

“You are all Children to me. It is no different for you than it was for young Kevin.” He released her shoulder and lifted the stump with both hands, hauling it inside the barn. “Come here, this will be better in the shade, don’t you think?”

He dropped the stump with a bang that lifted the straw. Fine particles showered back down to the floor. Rachel watched in shock, her feet as heavy and immobile as the wooden block in front of Zephyr.

“I… I can’t.”

“You can and you will, child. Take off your dress.”

The dress was uncomfortable. It was rough and ill-fitting, and plastered against every curve of her body. But it was the only layer of protection that she had, and it suddenly became very precious to her. She clutched the straps at her shoulders, tears welling in her eyes.

But Zephyr was unfazed. “This is beneath you, Rachel. You will not convince me that you are an adult by throwing a tantrum.”

She could refuse, she told herself. She could turn away from him, from the family, from Home. But afterward – where would she go? She’d been aimless in the city, drifting from club to club through the nights looking for somewhere she could belong. And she felt she did belong here, she just hadn’t adjusted yet.

And she never would, if she left.

But if she didn’t leave…

With trembling fingers, she slid the straps of her dress over her shoulders. Without looking up, she could feel Zephyr’s eyes on her, tracing over the swells of her body as she stripped free of the rotten dress. She dropped it at her feet, standing naked in front of him. He’d seen her this way before, of course – all members of the family slept in their natural states, Zephyr included – but there was no comfort or community in this. Even in the summer heat, she shivered.

Zephyr nonchalantly picked up her discarded clothing and hung it from a nail on the wall.

“You should take better care of these,” he grumbled.

She nodded miserably.

He resumed his seat and beckoned her towards him. She shuffled to his side, nervously pushing her long hair out of her face, with each step growing more acutely aware of the feel of the warm air on her full breasts, her plump bottom.

Like Kevin before her, she found herself lowered into his lap. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to accommodate her wide hips across his thin knees. A tight bulge pressed against her stomach. A sick notion formed in her head, and Rachel tried to shake it out. Zephyr was a man, yes, but not like those other men…

The slap across her bottom caught her off-guard, and she yelped reflexively more out of shock than pain. The sound was raised to the high-beamed ceilings, ringing throughout the barn like the amplifiers from the discotheques that Rachel had used to frequent. He sat for a moment as the echo traveled through the space, whether surprised or enjoying the effect, she couldn’t tell. But the respite was short-lived.

Zephyr was not physically a strong man. He was almost sickly in frame, with bandy arms and legs and smooth, unworked hands. But as Rachel soon found out, he had the strength of his convictions, and he set out to impress their full might onto Rachel’s bare behind. His palm bit into her seat in furious repetition, and any docility that she might have hoped to have was abandoned. She kicked and howled, but Zephyr showed no signs of letting up.

Worse, she could see figures moving in to her periphery. The noise had drawn the rest of Zephyr's flock, and they peeked past the door to see what all the fuss was about. The unshaven "boys" giggled and grasped at themselves at the sight of the nude woman flailing over Zephyr’s knee, but their enjoyment was short-lived. Abby appeared to shoo them away, promising them the same if they did not leave Zephyr to work uninterrupted.

Rachel could have sworn that the other woman smirked as she said that.

“Never mind them, Rachel, pay attention to me.”

He recaptured her focus with a furious pair of slaps on each cheek that fanned the already searing fire in her bottom and forced a piercing shriek from Rachel. Seemingly encouraged with the effect, he brought his hand down harder and faster, until she abandoned all thoughts of witnesses, all thoughts of leaving, and any sense of composure. Once she started to openly weep over his lap, the spanking finally abated.

Even through the pain, she could still feel the faint impression of his cock underneath her.

Zephyr helped Rachel to her feet. He stopped for a moment to appreciate the pattern of red and pink he’d splashed across her sore and throbbing buttocks, then took her chin in his hand and dried her eyes.

“Cooperation is essential to our life here, Rachel.”

She cringed. “I know.”

“Tomorrow you will rise with the others. Otherwise…”

“I understand.”

“I think you do,” he mused. “Before you dress, I need you to impart a lesson to the others. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded.

“Good. I want you to stand by the barn door, hands on your head.”

She opened her mouth, but only a squeak emerged. Zephyr shot her a look, and she obediently took her place, her body moving with an immediacy and purpose that her scrambled thoughts couldn’t begin to explain. She took her position by the door, feeling the sunlight as it caressed her bare thighs and tortured backside.

Zephyr nodded in approval, and added, “Abby and Lyric will come for you in a few hours.”

“W-what for?” she stammered.

“Your actions inconvenienced both of them, and I have given them permission to punish you as they see fit. Cooperation, remember?”

Rachel blushed as he walked away, radiating scarlet from top and bottom.

*** 

Bertie awoke as the sound of Rachel’s breathing grew short and rough. She whimpered in her sleep, pawing lightly at the sheets that she had kicked off earlier. He tapped her on the shoulder, prompting a whimper from the woman in the bed beside him.

“Rachel,” he murmured.

She woke with a start, her eyes flashing. She took in the bedroom, the discarded sheets, the half-asleep figure of her fiancé beside her. Eventually, her breathing slowed to match the rhythm of the ceiling fan.

Redundantly, Bertie added, “You had a bad dream.”

Rachel nodded and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “I was in this hippie cult, like back in the seventies. Cotton dresses, long hair… the leader looked like the singer from this one band I like…”

“Honey, I have to work in the morning.”

“He spanked me,” she uttered suddenly. “In front of everybody. Then I had to stand up naked and everything and let them have a turn.” She let slip a welcome breath of cool air. A tear slipped down her cheek.

Bertie rose on his elbows. “Are you alright?”

“Just embarrassed. It’s a dream, right? It didn’t actually happen.”

Bertie leaned over and kissed her forehead. His touch was dry and awkward, he was still half-asleep and would likely roll over and doze off in another moment. What she wanted to say was inarticulate and complicated, and there was no way that he was coherent enough to follow her through it. She envied him.

She kissed him back, full and on the lips. He gave her an odd look and settled back down into the pillow. As she expected, it took only a few minutes before he was gone, no doubt lost in some dream of his own. She rolled out of bed and made her way into the kitchen, wincing at the light as she opened the refrigerator and withdrew a bottle of water that made a very real and satisfying crunch in her hand.

Rachel left the door open, its cool air blowing over her dewy skin. Their apartment was stiflingly hot at night, even in the most frigid of months, and she had grown accustomed to sleeping in the nude. It occurred to her that if some enterprising peeping tom were scaling the balcony outside, he would be getting an eyeful right now, but she made no move to cover up or even close the door.

She’d never considered herself to be an exhibitionist. She was an entertainer, yes, she craved attention, and she was not above using her looks and the appeal. But that aspect of the dream still haunted her – of being naked and helpless over Zephyr’s knee in front of all the other children. It left her frightened, but strangely aroused, and frightened of that arousal. She had no idea what to make of any of it, and she had no reason to think that Bertie would have any insight either.

If only she knew.