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Fate. It must be fate. Somehow, in some way, she would bear up. She knew that. A woman in such circumstances has no other choice.
CHAPTER NINE
A cock crowed. There were stirrings in the stables. Footsteps. Voices. The smell of coffee making her dizzy. Intense hunger made her entire body seize up.
“Ooo, now, ain’t she sweet?” A syrupy-tongued youth leaned on the stall door and gazed down at Hannah, who lay like a possum in fetal position, eyes still closed, though she heard every word. “You think he’ll let us have a piece of her pretty ass?” the young man asked the older man who stood beside him. He slurped a drink from his mug, while Hannah smelled the scent of alcohol on their breath as keenly as she smelled the coffee.
“I think the bitch is ripe for pluckin,” his friend replied.
“What’s Eldon mean, work her, huh?”
“You remember that little whore we had in here a few months ago? Short, sassy little thing with the great big titties.” He cupped his hands in front of him in demonstration of the woman’s size.
“Yeah, s
he had a fine little, sweet-smelling cunt. Coulda humped her for hours. You think we get to have this one like that?”
“Not sure, but remember how we worked her like a buckin’ stallion? She was all ready to fight until we broke her of that.”
“So we break this one too?”
“It’ll make her soft and easy as one of Madam Evie’s drunken sluts.”
The stall door opened and the two men entered. One unbound Hannah’s feet, the other untied her hands. They shoved a crust of bread in her hand and a cup of cider.
“Eat up!”
Hannah devoured the meager meal with relish, even though the bread was stale and the cider turning hard. Anything in her stomach was better than the emptiness that gnawed on her like a teeth-gnashing dog. When she was finished, she hoped for more. But instead of another helping, the men pulled her to her feet, and shoved her through the stable and outside into the open air.
“Piss in the bucket, lady,” the young man with tousled wheat-colored hair pointed to a tin bucket on the ground.
For some time, Hannah stared at the two without moving, her eyes fixed on their scowling faces. The young one looked a little frightened of her severe expression. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes hard-bitten and cold. He was about to back down on the request when the older man, with the funny glint in his black eyes and a deep scar across his cheek moved in one step closer until he and Hannah were close enough to smell the other’s breath. His stunk enough to make her belly clench in a wave of nausea. “Squat, lady, unless you want me to raise your skirt for you so we can watch real close. Or maybe you’d like that, eh?”
Hannah’s fierce feelings would not budge, but she saw no way to avoid the demeaning order without heaping on more humiliation. She’d have to choose her battles, and this was not one to fret about. She stepped to her side, and lifted her skirt enough so she could straddle the bucket. Then she squatted down over the opening, and with a finger tugging her drawers aside, she let her bladder release. The stream of warm liquid bounced off the sides of the bucket, sounding like rain on an old tin roof. It finally ended with a few pinging droplets.
The two men pulled her upright and she stepped away from the bucket.
“Dump it in the bushes,” the older man said. His was a tone of constant scolding. “You gotta do anything else? Huh?” he asked.
Figuring that he was referring to her bowels, she replied, “No, I don’t.”
“Good. Then you’ll be ready for the first workout.”
Hannah dumped the bucket of piss in some nearby bushes, noting that the outhouse was just a few yards away. She could clearly see where her life amidst these men would take her. She returned to the two gloating fellows trying to distance herself from the emotional knot of anguish inside. Ready to move on to more abuse, the young man tossed a rope around her neck, and the older man led her into an exercise ring.
“Don’t we got a girl-sized bridle?” the younger man asked the other as he watched the rope cut into Hannah’s lean throat.
“Ack…we’ll find it if we need it,” the man returned. “If the boss thinks she needs the hard work before he uses her.”
Every word the two men spoke assaulted her mind like a constant battering wave—there seemed to be no end. Fear fueled by a diabolical thrill cut already frayed nerves to ribbons. For nearly a half hour, Hannah was run around in circles, while one of the men stood in the middle of the paddock and turned around as he flicked a buggy whip her way to keep her moving at a brisk clip.
“Hands behind your back!” the older one ordered, in a voice laced with lewd intent. “Thrust out those titties! Hold them high!”
Hannah did as she was told. Despite the demeaning intent of the order, she thrust out her naked chest like a plump, proud bird. Her youthful breasts were round and firm and the bared orbs bounced freely as she trotted along. Her pale aureoles drew into thick dark nipples, hardening in the cool morning air. The surrender made her angry and at the same time garnered a surge of energy that determined how she’d react to every new humiliation. While she knew she could not win this battle, she’d fight their plans to rape her spirit.
“Oh, my,” the young man heckled her with a garish grin as he watched from the other side of the paddock fence, “can’t wait to get my mouth on those.”
The older man who held the rope suddenly stopped turning. Hannah stopped too. “Tuck her skirt inside the waistband. I want to see her those purdy ass cheeks wobble like her titties.” The young man eagerly obeyed the order and with diligent care lifted the hem of Hannah’s skirt and exposed her backside below the waist. The drawers beneath were quickly disposed of leaving naked everything from the flanks of her thighs to her ass cheeks to her legs below. Her bare flesh was resplendently lovely in the luminous light of the new day. Their smooth texture was as flawless as porcelain. Yet, as she was ordered to trot again about the paddock in a circle, the beautiful cheeks were intermittently stung with the flick of the whip. Hannah jerked with each mean cut, and some cut deeply, producing angry red marks. Others were simply annoying. Each unnerved her proud, defiant spirit, as Hannah attempted to bravely endure the humiliating treatment with some grace.
