Mistress of Greenbrier: The Greenbrier Trilogy, Book Two

Chapter Five-1

Chapter Five

Beau watched the recently loaded coffin roll away on its first leg of a long journey home. He was the only embalming surgeon within a hundred miles of Winchester in any given direction. It wasn’t a popular practice and for most it was an expense they could do without. But when the opportunity came, it gave Beau hours of time alone. Time to think is what he had needed most and when word had arrived that his services were needed this last time, he’d been eager to retrieve the body and get to work. He could have made a lot more money if he’d stayed in Lynchburg or gone to Richmond. He’d come to Winchester instead, lead by instinct more than anything else

The end of his marriage had left a bitter, hard taste in Beau’s mouth. Christine had loved the cities, had thrived on them and all they offered. Dinners, dances, operas, social events of every kind had filled their lives. Maybe that is why he hated those things so much now.

The buckboard holding the coffin was but a speck on the road now, reminding him of the day Christine had left him standing in Lynchburg. His son would be almost seventeen by now and his girl almost twelve. He’d not seen them in over ten years. Seventeen, he mused, was old enough to go to war.

From the upstairs window, Lucy looked down at Beau standing so still in the front yard. Had he been dressed in gray he could well have been a statue. The only thing that gave him away was the wisp of smoke that drifted from the cigar wedged between his teeth. At another time she would have knocked on the window and waved down to him. Now she stood back not wanting him to see. So much had changed since they had met. She wondered if giving up the school had been the wisest decision. Beau had so much more time on his hands now and he seemed not to know how to occupy it. Yet he spent endless hours cloistered in his den writing letters. He was quick to temper and short of attention. The lean figure in the front yard finally moved, tugged the cigar from his mouth and walked off to some point behind the house and out of Lucy’s line of sight. She turned around, “Oh!” Melissa stood behind her. “I didn’t hear you.”

The slave girl smiled then touched her thumb and two forefingers to her lips. “Lunch?”

Melissa nodded.

The table was set for three. Lucy waited for the others until the soup was cold then retreated to her rooms, sad and alone, without eating a single bite. For awhile, Lucy sat at her dressing table. Every shred of her wanted to run away. She could destroy the letters she had written and write new ones, ones that included her in the trip North with her mother. She could go back to Pennsylvania. If the doctor wanted to be cold and unfeeling, so could she, right?

“Aren’t you done running away, Lucy?” Her reflection confronted her with a scowl. It was true. Her whole life she’d run away when she didn’t want to do something or wasn’t brave enough to face things. “For a change, stop sitting about feeling sorry for yourself and do something.”

Glancing towards the window, Lucy sighed, “But I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” her reflection asked.

Tears bloomed then slid down the real Lucy’s face. “Everything.” she whispered.

A heavy knock jarred her from the conversation. Only Beau would knock so boldly, if he bothered to knock at all. “Lucy?” It was his voice. The knob on the door turned halfway, “Open the door, my dear. You’ve locked your Master out.”

“One minute.” She splashed her face with cool water and blotted it dry. The tears had been slight, maybe he would not notice. She tested her smile in the glass then rushed to the door. At the sight of him, the touch of his hand, the caress of his lips on her cheek, every fear evaporated. How could she think of running away from all this? How?

He held her at arm’s length after the kiss, “You’ve been crying.”

“Just a little. No one came to lunch.” Taking up his hands in hers, she pressed them to her lips. They smelled of cigar and wood smoke. “It was silly of me to cry,” she said. “I know you’re busy. There’s so much to do before we leave on our honeymoon. Vivianne says springtime in Paris is the most romantic place in the world!” she looked up into his blue eyes and smiled. “I’m so eager to be away from all this and just be with you.”

“I know you are. So am I.” His voice faltered but Lucy seemed not to notice. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Paris.” His words caught in his throat looking down at her. A warm hand reached out and cupped the side of her face.

“No,” she started. “You mustn’t tell me. I should like it all to be a surprise.”

He smiled, bent forward and kissed her forehead. “Yes, it can wait a while longer. But this,” he suddenly pulled away and took confident strides towards the bed, “this we must attend to now.” He picked up the chastity belt.

Her cheeks grew rosy, “Yes, sir.”

“That’s my girl.” All he need do was hold out his empty hand and she was there, willing and obedient. What little she wore, was removed. Her pert, young breasts were round and full. Taking one of the pale globes into his hand, Beau kissed the n****e, pleased when the warm moan touched his ears. One of her hands glazed over the back of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. “Put your hands behind your neck,” he told her. Her fingers drew away and were laced behind her head. “Spread your legs.” Her stance shifted as she opened herself more to him. Into her womanhood his fingers dipped, feeling the wetness. Her breath gasped. Her fingers clenched tighter behind her head. His other hand slid up her back and into the thick tresses of her hair. The strands seemed to coil on their own around his fingers as he took a handful and pulled her head back. A moan parted Lucy’s lips.

“My god, how much I love you,” he whispered against her ear. “My slave. My beautiful slave.” Suddenly his mouth was pressed to hers so hard she could not take a breath. Fingers probed her ever deeper. More firmly he gripped her hair, locking her in place against him. This time, when her hands touched the back of his head, he did not order their release.

The two of them sank to their knees. His shirt came off. The buttons of his trousers were unfastened. A hot, eager hand reached in and pulled his c**k from its confines. Released, it sprang to life, throbbing and eager to fill her. Over his chest her hands went, kissing his throat and jaw as she moved until he found himself on his back. This was one of the things he loved most about her. In her moments of pure desire, she took what she wanted and wasn’t afraid anymore. He closed his eyes and let her work her magic. What a fool he had been to impose her chastity. He felt his boots pulled off and then his trousers pulled down. Up between his legs she moved, kissing his inner thighs, lips fluttering first in one spot then another. With gentle touches her hands teased his c**k ever fuller until he felt it would burst. A flick of her tongue drew a moan from him, tickling the dark head. Further up his body she moved. Her breasts brushed over his s*x then his belly. Her own stomach rubbed his manhood as her lips sucked eagerly on his n****e. The doctor’s head swooned. If he must be helpless, if he must be without an ounce of control, let that power be given to her, this one woman.

Around her waist his hands slid, feeling her hips and trying to draw them down closer. She kissed his face and throat. Her breast was offered to his lips and he took it, finding the soft, warm flesh sweet and salty. Then it slipped away. Wetness pressed around his c**k, shining it, stroking it to an explosive hardness. Lucy’s hips rose, her hand gently took hold of his s*x and with a deep, slow thrust, he sank up into her. With an easy rocking motion she moved him back and forth inside her. Pumping a steady rhythm between them, Lucy bent forward, kissing him with something that bordered on madness.

Harder and faster she moved. Each thrust pushing from the both of them a moan. Her thighs pressed tight on his hips. Beau lifted himself only a little, trying to meet her movements with ones of his own, but there was little he could do. Not that he wanted to do or change anything. His own desire was all he could think of. The feel of her tight insides clamped around him, stroking faster, harder, deeper. Her body shuddered. The rapid panting ceased. He knew her pleasure-filled blindness and made it his. Together they came in an orgy of wetness, sweat, c*m and tears. Nothing beyond this moment or room mattered.

When her arms weakened and she sank down to his chest, Beau wrapped himself around her. Into her hair he slid his fingers. This time there was no force. The silken strands curled around his hand. She smelled of lavender and buttermilk soap. “My slave,” he murmured. “I would give you the world if I could.”

“I don’t want the world,” she replied, touching her lips to his ear. “I only want you.”

His heart sank a little, “We need to talk about Paris, Lucy.”

“Not now. Please not now,” her grip on him tightened. They could not have laid any closer together.

He stroked her hair and her shoulders and occasionally kissed the crown of her head and said nothing. Closing his eyes he listened to her breathing. The large clock at the end of the hall chimed twice. “I asked Max to meet me at three. We need to clean up the embalming room.”

“When will you let me help you do those things?”

“It’s grim, unpleasant work, my love. You don’t need to help.” she had asked him several times over the past year.

“I’m not afraid like Vivianne is.” She heard Beau’s breath catch for a second then he patted her shoulder.

“You aren’t afraid of a lot of things that Vivianne is.” His chest rose and fell deeply as his thoughts gathered and returned to the mission he had been on when he had first entered the room. “Let’s get that belt on you, shall we?” The doctor untangled their limbs and retrieved the chastity device from the floor where it had fallen.

The crotch of the belt was made of a slightly cupped, wire mesh. It ran from the bulge of her pubic bone to just in front of her anus. The design would permit natural functions but would not allow any sort of touch or penetration to occur from the outside. A series of leather belts, cords and locks kept the device snuggly in place. Short of actually cutting the thing off, Lucy would not have any way of touching herself while she wore it. And it fit so snugly in the crotch that there was no way to insert anything under the mesh screen. At most she would be able to splash the area with water to wash.

When all was in place, Beau turned her around to face the full-length mirror in the corner. “What do you think?” he asked.

She frowned, “I don’t like it.” A grin spread across his face. He reached around her and ran his fingertips over the cage. Tiny vibrations tickled the inner most recesses of her groin. Lucy leaned back against his chest.

“You will wear it to Paris,” he told her.

She turned sharply in his arms. “But you said only two weeks!”

“I am the Master. I changed my mind.”

“But that’s over a month away.” Her eyes were round like a pleading puppy.

He grinned, “A fine amount of time to find other ways to stimulate you, my dear.” His hand traveled down her hip and suddenly slapped her bare bottom. Her little mouth opened to protest, but his finger touched it before she could speak. “Always remember, you belong to me. In less than two weeks you will be mine by law with all the rights, privileges and duties that law instills. You will obey because the law and your vows will say you must obey as my wife.” She studied his face in earnest. “You will obey me, Lucy. No matter what I demand of you, you will obey.”

Still her eyes searched his, “Yes.”

“I must know you will do as I tell you to do.” He gripped her suddenly by the shoulders. “I will not rest easy if I think for a moment you will not.”

Fear flickered in his eyes. Lucy had never known Beau to be afraid of anything before. “You are my Master and my love. I will obey you.”

He kissed her hard. “I will see you at dinner.” Then he was gone.

She stood for a moment dazed and confused. Her eyes traveled back to her reflection and the chastity belt now firmly in place about her. With her own fingers she raked the mesh that covered her s*x then pulled her hand away quickly.

The seventeenth day of April, eighteen hundred and sixty-one, bloomed warm and full of sunshine. As per the doctor’s orders, Lucy was dressed warmly and they used the closed carriage. As Max drove the carriage, Beau trotted along side on horseback until they reached the post office where he nudged the steed and continued on through town and towards the Borgia home. Tucked into his medical pouch were some of the papers he had retrieved from Edward’s box and the one item that had startled Beau the most.

Alice greeted him at the door. She was thinner than he remembered but her smile was still just as warm as ever. Removing his hat, Beau stepped into the front hall. “He’s been asking for you all morning, Doctor.” she took his coat and hung it on a nearby peg. “He’s anxious to speak to you.”

Beau excused himself to the upstairs and saw his own way to Edward’s sick room. “Addams?” The old man grunted from the avalanche of pillows that propped him upright.

“Mr. Borgia. You received my note?”

He coughed into an already blood spattered handkerchief. “You want an explanation, no doubt.”

“I would appreciate one, yes.” From the contents of his bag he withdrew the papers and the wrapped bundle. The bundle he presented first.

Edward grinned, “Yes, my ring. You’ll need that, Addams. It will help with things; get you into places you need to get into. It’s of no use to me now.” The ring was a wide band of gold engraved on the crown with the initials K.G.C.

From his vest pocket Beauregard removed an almost identical ring and held the two up, side by side, for Edward to see, “I already have one.”

The old man chuckled which led into another round of severe coughing. “I should have guessed, but that is the beauty of the whole thing, isn’t it? You just never know. Still, you keep the ring all the same, won’t you?”

“Of course.” He slipped them both away. “Lucy has written to your wife’s sister and has gone to post the letter today,” he said. “I have plans of my own for Lucy. I would offer Mrs. Borgia the same considerations, but where Lucy is going would hardly be appropriate for your wife. I will see them both out of harm’s way.”

“Yes, I know you will. What else have you got there?” His thick fingers waved towards the papers. Beau unfolded one and handed it to Edward. With hands that trembled uncontrollably the elder looked over the document. “Ah, yes. You understand what this is, don’t you?”

“No, Sir. I’m afraid I don’t.”

“It’s a map, my boy, a map that may be of great use to you later on if things go as I suspect. See here at the bottom? This is the key. You do read Latin, don’t you? Of course, you do. Can’t figure the map if you don’t.” Edward spent the next twenty minutes explaining the document to Beau. By the time he was done the hanky in his hand bore more red than white.