The Virgin of Greenbrier: The Greenbrier Trilogy, Book One

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

For several minutes, the doctor stood, coldly staring at the messenger. A dark cloud of chaos gathered and rolled over his utopia like a storm. He would not let anyone see him out of control, even as he felt the control of his own destiny slipping away. He lowered himself back into his chair, gaze locked on the messenger. “And what does our Federal government, the defender of the people’s liberties, plan to do about this little insurrection?” Even his quiet tone did not mask his inner rage.

“S-sir,” the messenger stammered. “The local militia has him surrounded and the government has dispatched marines to the armory. They even sent for Colonel Lee from Arlington to command them.”

This news did not sit entirely well with Beauregard. He had met Colonel Lee and thought him to be weak and indecisive. He kept this thought to himself. “Well, if the government had captured and hung Brown after he murdered those people in Kansas, instead of allowing the Northern abolitionists to deify him, this forlorn act of treason would never have happened. But, that is not your fault.” he told the messenger. “You must go and warn the Valley. Thank you for bringing the news. Go now.” With a quick and relieved thank you, the messenger hurried from the room.

The doctor looked at those around the table as they studied their breakfast plates. They all heard the front door close and the retreating sound of galloping hooves as the messenger rode off. “So,” Dr. Addams began, “who of you wishes to join Mr. Brown?”

The room was hushed in nervous silence. “Come now, there must be at least one of you who would like to see your Master taken out by the rabble and hung from the nearest tree.”

At that, one girl leapt from her chair and ran to him, throwing herself at his feet and kissing his boots. She looked at him, eyes fraught with a mixture of fear and devotion. “None of us wish to see that happen,” she sobbed. “We all love you, Master Beau.”

He suppressed his own emotions as he looked down at her. Lifting her chin just a little more, he spoke in a slightly raised voice to everyone there. “Do her sentiments express the general consensus of the rest of you?”

“Yes, Master,” the reply was unanimous, though softly spoken by them all.

He bent down to kiss the girl on the forehead. “Return to your seat, little one.”

Though he was very touched by the affection the girl offered, there was really only one who he longed to have express her own obedience and devotion to him. He looked around the table and realized their breakfast was being ruined. “You may eat,” he said. “My appetite seems to have left me.” They ate, but without their normal morning banter.

For the majority of the meal he sat deep in thought, sipping his coffee in favor of the sausage, bacon and grits the others enjoyed. “Lucy!” he suddenly barked, causing everyone at the table to visibly jump. A plate slid to the floor. “Lucy, come here. Now.”

Lucretia scurried out the door and, upon approaching him, knelt down at his feet, her bottom resting on her heels, her head straight and her eyes looking at the floor. He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face so he could see her eyes. There was fear there, but there was something else as well. What was it? “Well, little one,” he said. “You heard the news earlier, I’m sure. Do you wish to see your Master strung up by a mob from the Elm tree out front?”

He searched her face, her eyes, and saw only the cold hard stare. There was nothing there for him. The doctor released her chin and rose from his chair. He studied her outward obedience and knew that that was all it was. With a growl, he stormed from the room without another word, the door slamming in his wake.

Lucretia stood up, glancing around at them. They are mindless sheep, she thought. I will never be one of them. She returned to the kitchen. No one had ever seen the Master this angry before. “Keep serving,” Abby instructed. “He’ll come back once he’s simmered down, an’ if’n he sees we’ve let breakfast go to waste, it’ll only make matters worse.”

By the time the meal was done, conversation had returned to the breakfast table. It was meager and reserved and held a fearful air, but it was better than the silence of before. They set aside a plate for the doctor, which Abby placed in the warming compartment of the huge cast-iron cook stove. If need be, another pot of coffee could be boiled up quick enough. After all had finished what they could of their meal, they went to their separate tasks around the house and property. Lucretia’s duties in the kitchen were to have ended after this meal; but, with no other order given, she and Abby both thought it best Lucy remain where she was until they heard otherwise. Learning more about baking and cooking would certainly do her no harm, and Lucretia was even beginning to enjoy the routine, menial as it may be. There was still plenty of canning and jam making to be done; something Lucretia had helped her Grandmother Borgia do whenever she could. Despite the violent start to the morning, she looked forward to a pleasant and productive day.

Just before lunch, Cassandra entered the kitchen. Faint red welts striped her bare breasts. The same marks covered her buttocks and thighs. She did not smile or greet any of them with her usual air of friendship and mirth and her eyes were bloodshot. “Master wants to see you, Lucy.” She delivered her message without emotion before turning to Abby. “I am to take her place for the week.”

“Cassy! Oh, ma soeur! Ce qui la fait a vous? What has he done!?” Lucretia ran to her friend, but feared to hug her lest she further increase Cassandra’s obvious pain. Instead, she took only her hands and clung to them.

A wan smile touched Cassandra’s lips. “It’s all right, sister. I deserved what was given me. All will heal and, by the party, if there is to be one, you’ll never know the punishment ever was.”

“I will know! I will remember this and I will tell him just what I think of what he has done to you!!” Lucretia went to pull away but Cassandra held her hands tighter.

“No, non, Lucy. Be quiet, silencieux. I am his slave far more than you ever will be. Didn’t your father have his slaves punished for breaking rules?”

“Yes, but that was different. They were just his…”

Cassandra’s expression grew even softer. “His what, ma petite soeur? His property?”

“No, I wasn’t going to say that.” But Lucretia knew that was exactly what she was going to say. She lowered her eyes in shame, realizing that in the minds of most, Cassandra was nothing but property. She was not a person, not a friend, not a sister, just an object to be bought and sold at will by her owner. It was no better than how Lucretia had thought of and treated her own slaves.

A soft, dark thumb brushed away the tear that had slid down Lucretia’s eye. “Don’t keep him waiting, ma soeur,” Cassy whispered. “Je suis bon.”

With a heavy heart and an icy fear in her veins, Lucretia mounted the stairs, leaving behind the kitchen and the friends she had made there. Her bare feet were silent on the carpet that ran the length of the upstairs hallway. The door to his suite had been left ajar. She knocked anyway.

“Come,” his voice was gentle and not what she had expected. He stood at the foot of his bed. No matter how cruel she knew he had been nor how fresh the sight of Cassandra’s wounds, Lucretia could not help but go momentarily breathless at the sight of him.

“You wished to see me, sir?”

“Close the door and come to me. Kneel down.” He hoped her time in the kitchen had changed her for the better. Being away from her had helped him as well. “I have not been strict with you these past few days, Lucy. That is going to change.” He began to move slowly around the room as he spoke, like a general giving orders to his troops. “I have decided to go ahead with the party in two weeks. You have until then to prove yourself a model slave that any man would be proud to have at his feet or on his arm. I will teach you to kneel and offer yourself. You will be silent when I expect you to be. You will speak only when spoken to. Your eyes will never lift higher than my shoulders or the shoulders of any dominant, unless it is requested otherwise. Any questions?”

“No, sir.”

He was standing directly behind her now. “Good. Where is your butt plug?”

She startled. “Downstairs, sir.”

His hand brushed over her hair. Lucretia expected him to yank her head back and be angry, but neither happened. “Run and fetch it. I’ll give you a count of one-hundred. Go! One…”

“What?” Lucretia twisted around, confusion clear in her eyes.

“Two… Three… You’d better hurry. Four… Five…”

Instinct kicked in and before he could reach ten, Lucretia was on her feet, out the door, and racing down the hall. She nearly knocked Mary over in her haste to get to the sleeping room over the kitchen. Lucretia apologized, but had no time to explain. The beds had been stripped. It was Monday, laundry day. She yanked open the drawers of the small dresser, pawed through everything but found nothing. She got down on her hands and knees and searched under the two small beds.

“Looking for this?” Elizabeth leaned against the doorframe, held up the plug and smiled.

Lucretia’s heart leaped. “Yes! Oh, thank you!” She clutched both hands around the plug but Elizabeth did not release it. “Lizzy, please! I have to hurry.”

“What’s the matter, afraid? Not the Master’s favorite anymore?”

“Lizzy, why would you say…”

“Elizabeth!!” Abby shouted from behind.

Elizabeth let go and stepped aside. Brushing past her, Lucretia just caught the cruel expression on the other slave’s face.

She took the stairs two at a time, something she’d not done since she was child. She was out of breath when she finally rushed into the bedroom again. “I got... it!” The room was empty. “Dr. Addams?” Silence answered her long enough to make her shiver.

“Here. Come to me.”

She had seen the door to the left of the fireplace before, but had given it little consideration. It stood half open. Lucretia took a deep breath and approached. The room beyond emitted a chill, despite the fire in the hearth and the rich glow of dozens of candles. At the far end, the doctor sat in a high, throne-like chair, dressed only in his leather trousers and boots. The dusting of hair on his bare, broad chest was clearly visible. And his arms were lean and sinewy with tight muscles. In his right hand was a rattan cane. “Come and kneel.”

Once more, she was caught off guard by the wave of emotions she felt on seeing him. My God, the whole room smells of leather, she thought. Lucretia clutched the plug in her hands. “I got…”

He touched a finger to his lips and she went quiet. Shivering, Lucretia entered and knelt down. She realized that the chair he sat in was not as big as it had looked at first. It sat on a low dais, raising it some four inches. The walls were some sort of darkly stained wood, almost black. There were no windows. The floor was hard and cold, covered in stone. It was like entering a room in a medieval castle.

“Put the stopper down at my feet,” his tone as hard as the stone under her knees. “Kiss it and then each of my boots and ask that I put the plug back in your ass.”

What warmth remained in her now drained away and any coherent thoughts with it.

“Lucy, do as I have told you.”

Her eyes flickered from his boots to the plug and back endless times. His hand was on her head. His fingers gripped her hair and pushed her down until her lips were mere inches from the plug. “Kiss it,” his voice quietly demanded. He was still calm, but there was no mistaking his seriousness. Lucretia lowered herself the remaining inches and pressed her lips to the object. The doctor’s hand moved away. “The boots next, on your own this time.”

The boots. She stared at them. How she had wanted to kiss them so much just the other day; and, now that he ordered her to do so, she balked. Lucretia shut her eyes, going light-headed from the smell. The lips between her legs grew warm and tingled. His hand was just touching the back of her head but there was no force behind it. Lucretia’s neck bent down. Her lips touched first one boot then the other, leaving their scent and taste swimming inside her. When she drew back, there were tears in her eyes. She did not understand how she could want these things so badly.

“Ask.”

The desire she’d known the last time he’d put that thing in her filled every fiber, but Lucretia could not make her mouth utter a single sound. The harder she tried the more tears she shed. The more tears, the harder it was to speak. But even then, she wanted to do as he said.

“I will say it one more time. Do as I have told you or be punished. Ask.”

With her eyes shut tight, Lucretia blurted it out. “Please put the plug back in me.”

“Say it like you mean it, slave.”

“Oh, God.” It was so hard to tell him what she wanted.

“This is my will, not God’s. As far as that goes, I may as well be God to you.” The cane he held was brought up to rest on her shoulder. “Final chance. Kiss again and ask. Ask me like you know you want to.” Tears wretched from her. “Do it!” he bellowed.

She flinched and leaned forward again to kiss the butt plug and his boots. “Please...” the begging was real this time. “Please, Master, put the plug back in my bottom.” She wanted to vomit and fall between the cracks of the stone floor.

The light touch of the rattan rod was lifted from her shoulder. “Pick it up in your mouth and hand it to me.”

Death would have been a blessing to her. “Please, sir, I can’t.” Her hands covered her face, and she no longer was able to kneel as she had been. She curled forward, resting her head on the edge of the dais. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” Was all she seemed able to utter through the torrent of fresh tears.

“Then you will be punished.”

Is that all he ever thought of, punishment? Suddenly, the old fire of her rage shot through her. Lucretia grabbed the plug so near at hand and threw it across the room, glaring at him, eye to eye. “Punish me then. I don’t care! Punish me all you want. You are a self-righteous, sadistic man, and I use the word man with more than a little reservation, sir!” She rose defiantly to her feet, fists balled tight to her sides. Her gaze did not flinch from his. Lucretia knew it was the wrong thing to do and knew she would suffer for it; but, right now, she did not care. “Maybe John Brown has the right idea! Maybe this institution of slavery you hold so near and dear should be abolished! All of it!!”

His hand came up so hard and so fast across her face that Lucretia staggered. But she did not fall nor did her resolve slacken. “Does that make you feel more like a man, sir? Slapping a woman like that?” His hand rose a second time, but she faced him with confidence and control and resolve and he paused. “Go ahead. Hit me again.” Her hazel eyes were ablaze. “Give me one more reason to despise you, sir. As if I need any more.” A tiny stream of blood trickled from the corner of her lip, ignored. Her back was straight and she held herself exactly as any proud, Southern lady would. “You are the most loathsome, disgusting and vile man I have ever had the displeasure of knowing, Dr. Addams. I know I cannot hope to physically overpower you and I won’t even venture to try. I am also quite aware that, after this, I will feel more pain than I have ever known, but I will not be forced into silence. I have feelings, sir, and they are worth something. I am not an object, nor is Cassy, nor is anyone else here placed on this earth for your amusement. I am a person and a lady and I expect to be treated as such!” She took a deep breath and pushed her shoulders back even more. “I will remain here, not for your pleasure or my own, for that matter, but because I have given you my word to endure this vile place until the agreed upon time. You can do with me as you will, sir, as that is also part of our agreement, but you will never in your wildest and most perverted of dreams, own me. If my obedience is all you want, you shall have it, nothing more.”

His dark eyebrows arched up; and, when it was clear she’d finished, Dr. Addams put his hands together in three simple claps. “Feel better now?”

She wasn’t so sure she did. It felt good to yell at him and tell him what she thought. It felt equally as bad to know that, once again, she had let her temper get the best of her. She would pay dearly for this outburst, but she would not apologize for any of it. She would not beg him to forgive her and be gentle with her.

His expression became bland, reminding her of a droll, old tutor she’d once had. “In that case, prove your obedience. Get down on your hands and knees, retrieve the plug in your mouth and crawl back to me. Place it in my hand, turn around and offer me your bottom. That, my dear, is what any obedient slave would do.” He sat down and waited. Lucretia could not help but narrow her eyes at him. “Don’t make me have to repeat myself. Obey or leave this house for good.”