The Virgin of Greenbrier: The Greenbrier Trilogy, Book One

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

With a growl, Lucretia went down on all fours. The stone floor was rippled and she moved with pained slowness until she had retrieved what she’d thrown. Only when Lucy turned away did he allow himself the faintest of smiles. As was done before, he covered the wooden stopper with oil and slowly inched it into her backside. Each twinge and each whine that task created built on his lust to take her. Her breasts hung down and every so often her n*****s would touch the cold floor. Seeing this and knowing her further discomfort pushed the doctor’s own s*x ever fuller.

“Follow me,” the Master told her now that her hole was full. Remaining on her hands and knees, Lucy was led to the far corner of the room. In this dark place, Master Addams attached a short length of heavy chain to Lucretia’s already weighty collar. The chain was no more than a yard long and anchored to the wall about knee level. She would be able to lie down on the floor, but standing fully upright would be impossible.

He ran the slender rattan cane down Lucretia’s back. “Cassy lost count and you saw what she looked like. You will get only five strokes. I suggest you keep your wits about you unless you wish to end up looking as she did. I’m going to cane you, little one. After that, you will be left here alone to think about your little outburst and it if was worth the pain. For the next three days you are my pet. You will not speak. You will eat, sleep, and live in this single room. Most of the time you will be chained just as you are now. When not chained you will be servicing me in any way I please. One word, one single word of protest, and I will return you to your father.” He ran the smooth rattan over her bare bottom teasingly. “Any last words, pet?”

“I hate you.”

The Master chuckled, “Start counting.” He pulled the cane back and waited.

“One,” she said with defiance. Her scream made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The cane was pulled back a second time as she panted through the pain.

He let her catch her breath and steady herself. He could be unbelievably patient. Just when he was sure she was going to refuse to continue, Lucretia said, “Two.”

Her second outburst was just as strong as the first as the rattan struck a new section of her bare bottom. Bright red welts rose instantly, mirroring the red streaks that followed the path of her tears. “Three.” He moved the cane down to strike the backs of her thighs. Lucretia had inched herself forward, her head down and her face pressed almost to the floor. “Four.”

Again he struck the backs of her thighs and watched as a fresh, red mark was made. Her submission was a pleasure to watch and feel. It pressed against the inside of his trouser leg.

“Five.”

The Master ran the cane over his work, searching for just the right placement. Moving the rattan away, he took his time, watching her shake, watching her buttocks clench and relax, expectant but uncertain.

Whack!

Lucretia sank down into the corner, weeping. As much as something inside him wanted to whisper softly to her at that moment, the doctor would not listen. Her tears had no power. Instead, he reached down, tugged lightly on the plug to make sure it was still in place then drew back without a word. There would be no kindness or pity. No comfort. The only gentle stroke she would feel were his fingers between her legs, probing the familiar wetness.

“Your mind says no,” he spoke in a deep, hushed tone, “but your body says yes.” He stood back and looked at her huddled form. “Now, if you will excuse me, a very special guest and friend are expected in a couple of days. I’ll be back when I have the time. Until then, enjoy your solitude.” The door shut. The lock clicked into place.

She didn’t look up. She couldn’t look up. She was alone. It wasn’t until all but a few candles remained burning that Lucretia lifted her head from the floor.

From here the fireplace provided no warmth. There was no blanket. With the door shut, there was also no sound. She knew without having been told that no one would hear her had she bothered to cry out for help. Even if they did, they would not come. They were good, well-trained, and obedient slaves. She was not. She did not know if she ever could be. But deep inside, somewhere, she wanted to be. She also knew that from the very moment Mary had first mentioned it, she hoped it was true, that the doctor really did like her. How could he love her when everything she did was wrong? She had been a disgrace to her father. That’s why he’d brought her here. Now, she was a disgrace to Dr. Addams.

“I don’t hate you, sir,” Lucretia’s eyes closed with burning sadness. “I don’t hate you at all.” If only she could tell him that.

The door banged open, startling Lucretia out of the doze she’d slipped into. It was Elizabeth. “I’ve brought you some hot tea and biscuits.” The tray was set down with a heavy thud, barely within Lucretia’s reach. Elizabeth went to the fire, restocked it then pulled out a folded blanket. She tossed it to Lucretia. “Happy now, his pet?”

Lucretia pulled the blanket closer. “Why should I be happy? Why are you being so cruel, Lizzy? What have I done?”

Elizabeth scowled. “You can’t possibly be that oblivious.”

Lucretia supposed that she was because there was no reason for Elizabeth to be treating her this way. They had gotten along wonderfully in the kitchen. Instead of wasting her time and energy in argument, Lucretia turned to her meal, sparse as it was. The buttered biscuit was still warm and her tea piping hot.

“I’m to give you fifteen minutes.” She set the screen back in front of the fire and left.

On her second sip, it dawned on Lucretia that the tea was raspberry flavored, one of her favorites. Only her mother and servants at home knew that. With Elizabeth gone, Lucretia studied the tray of food more carefully. Now that the fire gave more light, she saw a small pot of jam, also raspberry, and beside it, a dish of apple butter. All were favorites.

Lucretia ate all three of the biscuits and used every drop of jam and butter provided. She was just downing the last of the tea when the door opened.

“Is his pet done?” Elizabeth snatched the cup right out of Lucretia’s hand and took the tray away.

“Lizzy, what have I done to you?” Lucretia clutched the blanket tight, afraid Elizabeth would take that away as well, but she was already to the door. “Lizzy?” But there was no reply. The door was pulled shut and locked.

Lucretia rested her head back on the wall. Sitting or lying on the floor were the only two positions that did not make the collar and chain pull on her neck. She watched the flames dance and, for a moment, allowed herself to dream of someplace better.

“How is she?” Dr. Addams dunked his pen into the inkpot then continued to write without looking up.

Elizabeth came around to the side of his chair and knelt down. “Much better, Master. I got the fire going nicely, and we even shared a cup of tea, just as you suggested. We had a nice time. I think she is going to be a lot of work, sir. She’s very angry with you.”

Still he did not even look at her. “Ah, well, she’s bound to be both for awhile.”

Her head rested on his leg and she spoke softly, “Maybe I can help you to relax, Master. You’ve been terribly overworked since Lucy got here.”

“That’s what happens when someone new arrives.” He patted her on the head absently. “Remember?” Finally, he looked down at her. “It takes even more work when the person in question never wanted to be here in the first place.” She was running her hand over his knee, a gesture he recognized as wanting his attention. But he wasn’t in the mood for Elizabeth right now. With firmness, he drew her hand from his knee. “Kneel back, Lizzy. I have much to do. Perhaps another time I’ll let you please me.”

The disappointment on her face was unmistakable. “Yes, Master.” She knelt back, away from him and placed her hands on her knees.

“Did you give her the blanket as I told you?” He went back to writing in the ledger.

“Yes, sir.”

“And made sure the chamber pot was close by?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was the tea to her liking?”

“Yes, Master. She drank it all.” A line creased Elizabeth’s brow.

“Good.”

The slave brooded but said nothing. Dr. Addams wrote and wrote until Elizabeth began to fidget. “May I kneel up, sir?” He didn’t answer, now reading over what he had so carefully been writing. “Master?”

“Hm?” He’d almost forgotten she was even there.

“May I kneel up? My knees are hurting.”

“Yes, you may leave.” When she did not move, Dr. Addams looked at her with raised eyebrows. “I gave you permission to leave.”

Her lips parted as if she meant to speak, but then closed again into silence. “May I get you anything?” she asked as she stood up.

“No, I’m fine. I will see you at the dinner table in a few hours.” He watched her go with only slight curiosity. Like all the girls here, Elizabeth was lovely to look at. With her full figure and long blonde hair, there was no doubt she’d have little trouble finding a husband. She had been here for just over a year and the doctor reckoned it was past time for her to make her debut. Perhaps at Vivianne’s Christmas party, he thought. He would send out the word to his peers that Elizabeth would be available then. Thinking of Vivianne made him smile. They had not seen each other since last spring. It was always a pleasure when she was able to accept an invitation. Despite Vivianne being as demanding a guest as anyone could imagine and, in the doctor’s mind, exquisitely spoiled, he loved her company. She was one of the very few people he confided in.

They had met ten years ago in Alexandria at a slave pen near the railway depot. Neither had purchased on that particular day, but the sight of Vivianne had drawn more than a few stares and whispers. She stood out not just in her appearance but in the way she spoke, carried herself as boldly as any man. Even these things may well have passed over Beauregard’s attentions. Spoiled, rich women were not uncommon to him. It was the man who was with her that had made the doctor take notice. He followed close behind her, always keeping to her right shoulder and not once did he lift his gaze. Dr. Addams had stationed himself on the lower risers and was able to watch most of the crowds coming and goings. From here, he watched this woman and her companion as they moved from one station to the next, inspecting slaves to be auctioned prior to their going on the block. She would speak to the young man over her shoulder, and his answers always looked to be very brief as he scratched things down in a notebook he carried. Dr. Addams quickly lost interest in the auction and instead kept his attention on the woman. He smiled to himself, somehow knowing what he had found.

He had been introduced to many female dominants while in Europe. She could be nothing less than the American equivalent, the Mistress to a white male slave. When it seemed the two of them had made their rounds and found a place to sit for the auction, the doctor moved down from his vantage point. Weaving his way through the crowd and noise, he placed himself beside this gorgeous creature. He listened to their conversation, what little there was. Each time the boy was questioned, he would answer as Beauregard had heard so many other slaves respond, “Yes, Mistress. No, Mistress. She’s very nice, Ma’am.”

He couldn’t hold back comment any longer, “Buying or selling today?”

Up close her fiery green eyes turned towards him abruptly. Pure Irish blood surely flowed beneath that alabaster skin of hers. “Neither, I should think. And you, sir?”

“Likewise, Ma’am. Not quite what I am interested in, unfortunately.”

“Oh? And what is it you are interested in?” She studied him up and down like a fresh cut of beef hanging in the butcher’s window and smirked before looking away, back into the throng of people.

“Something a bit more exotic and rare, I should reckon. Unlikely to be found in a place such as this, but one still looks here from time to time.”

The tight smirk blossomed onto the angel’s lips. “Yes, one still does enjoy looking on occasion.”

“I need educated slaves, not mindless buffoons barely wrestled from the jungle.”

“Educated, sir?” she giggled. “You might wish to keep your voice down on that notion. Educated darkies are dangerous darkies.”

He nodded, getting the exact reaction he had hoped for, “You would rather prefer the term, trainable?” He met her gaze. “I’m sure a lady such as you can understand the need for trainable slaves, those willing to serve and obey regardless of their skin color.” With a knowing nod, he glanced at the boy beside her.

There was a twinkle in her eyes that instantly told the doctor he had not read her wrong at all. The blush that rose on the boy’s cheeks set everything in place. “Yes, I certainly do, sir.”

“I thought you might.” Beauregard handed her a calling card. “I am Dr. Addams. I run a school, Head Master, if you will. Feel free to call on me or write at your convenience. Perhaps we can discuss these matters in a more private setting one day?”

She handed the card to the boy without even glancing at it, “Perhaps.” She looked back at the block where a well-built male slave had just been sold for nearly a thousand dollars. Clearly, Beauregard had been dismissed. He stepped away, preparing to leave. “I am Vivianne, sir, Mistress Vivianne Daniels of Richmond. It was a pleasure, I’m sure.”

He touched the rim of his hat, nodding again. “Yes, I’m sure it was,” he replied before slipping away into the crowd. Having the last word was always the sweetest. He’d not given her time to respond.

He closed the ledger, slid it into the drawer, and looked at his pocket watch, only an hour until dinner. It was time to visit his pet again.