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“That’s it, pussy, you just keep it up,” the old man mocked her, knowing full well that she was beginning to tire.
Her legs ached and her arms burned from holding them behind her. She feared if she showed her distress and begged for mercy, they’d only bind them again. Soon, every step became more difficult until she was running raggedly just to keep going.
Another man’s voice suddenly cut through the tattered morning air, “She’s had enough for now.” Hannah recognized Eldon’s gruff voice.
Grateful for the reprieve, she stopped and waited to hear her next instructions as if she were some dutiful slave. If it were their aim to make her docile, they certainly were succeeding. She had no will to resist.
“Let her rest and we’ll work her again later. The boss wants to see us.”
Hannah was returned to the stall where she was given a biscuit that was fresher than the bread had been that morning and a bright, crisp red apple. Again, she ate with relish. She slept while she was left alone, finding it easy to drift off. Every muscle in her ached from the hard trek the day before and the physical demands that drained her resources. How ironic that she’d bowed out of a trip to Springfield partly because she couldn’t face the arduous journey, only to find herself in circumstances far more grueling than a trip with her husband and sister could ever be.
Sleep, ah blessed sleep! She could for a time escape the unhappy fate she’d drawn to her. She prayed for some way out; but held out little hope.
Later that morning, and again in the afternoon, Hannah was worked in the paddock like a training horse. In the afternoon, the cutting rope around her neck was replaced by a bridle and bit that fit over her head in the same fashion as a bridle and bit would fit a horse. These added measures to shame her cut away her pride even further and replaced her defenses with ready resignation. What else could she do but relent to their biting scowls and crude jibes, the nasty sting of the whip as it marred her flesh—both breasts and ass—and a regimen that crushed her spirit in the face of constant weariness? She had been bested. Their scheme worked.
But for what purpose?
Hannah assumed there was some sexual outcome awaiting her. But why this? Why bother when she’d already altered her morals to circumstance, and would no doubt do the same if she were ordered to do the same again.
Still, as she lay down at the end of her second day of captivity, there’d been nothing but innuendoes to suggest what came next. How long would they torture her this way? Yes, she knew with little doubt that the sexual demands would be coming soon. She was being prepared for Jarrett Cain, the leader of this pack of savage brutes, and so far he’d not shown his face.
“Am I not to see Mr. Cain?” Hannah at last asked Eldon when her final session in the paddock was over for the day and she was being led back to her bed of straw
.
“That’s for him to say, not me,” he answered.
“Surely, he’ll want to know I’m here.”
“Oh, he knows, lady. Don’t think he doesn’t.”
“Please then, won’t you speak to him for me?”
The man laughed as he scowled. “I ain’t speakin for no one. You wait like the rest of us wait and keep your mouth shut if know what’s good for you.”
Again, she was given a meager meal that she gulped down to take the edge off her constant hunger.
Eldon put her to bed for the night after his blacksmith forged irons for her ankles and wrists and they were securely locked in place. The heaviness of the metal drove her mindset deeper into the realms of surrender. She couldn’t bear to think of what she’d become now and would be the following day. Had this really started with Beau? Was he truly the reason she was paying these dreadful prices? Or was it something in her character that needed to be so reigned in? So vilely punished? Over and over, the questions repeated until she finally fell asleep.
***
The morning of the following day was much the same as the previous. Hannah rose, peed in front of two sniggering ranch hands and was then led to the outhouse to do the rest of her toilet—thankfully in private. She ate again, stale bread even older and showing signs of mold, this time with a piece of meat.
Again, she entered the paddock for another workout with bridle and bit that made her overworked muscles hardly able to move. Her chest and ass were bared for the titillation of the men, and so the blows of her trainers’ whips could inspire her attention to the strict form they sought. None of this made any sense to Hannah, but it was undoubtedly a fine show for these raunchy cowboys. At least a dozen of Cain’s men came to watch. She refused to look at their lewd faces, but she couldn’t help but hear their constant hoops and hollers while she trotted and strutted about the ring. It didn’t occur to her that this display of flesh and these nasty sessions would be all that these rowdy men would have of her. She assumed she’d give up her body for their sexual pleasure just as she had before when she was raped in her own home.
As before, Hannah moved through her paces, feeling the constant wrath of her disgruntled trainers etched in marks that painfully clipped her skin. Although she performed well enough to keep the men from abusing her harder, her mind escaped into a thoughtless stupor. When the early morning session ended, she stood as she had before waiting for another order. Any one of a half dozen men might have given her the next command, but the voice that drilled the morning air with its distinctive sound was not one she was used to hearing, although it was one she knew well. He didn’t speak directly to her—his comments were aimed at Eldon and the other man she believed in charge—but she heard every word as if the message was for her.
“Rub her down, give her a bath and get rid of those disgusting clothes. She’s my prize filly. I want her sweet-smelling and in a pretty dress. My Hannah and I have a few things to discuss.”
There was a ripple of laughter over the words ‘things to discuss’ as if the only thing she and Cain had to discuss was how often he’d be sticking his meaty member into the hot wet caverns of her body.
He must have shot them a disapproving glare because the laughter quickly died.
At the sound of the Jarrett’s voice, Hannah felt a tremor of lust rise up in her body, starting with her quivering sexual center. She shook visibly, although she imagined no one saw since they were focused on their boss. As much as she reviled herself for the unwanted feeling, she felt some pride in the fact that the man wanted her, and wanted her again and was taking great strides, at some risk to have her. She remembered the other times, all too well, and found herself quaking miserably as the erotic heat began to build again.
By the time she finally turned around, Jarrett was gone and she was being hustled back into the stables.
Hannah bathed in private, in a small room where a washtub of warm water had been placed. The dress provided for her was a pale blue silk that fit her surprisingly well. It was cut deeply at the bodice, and so low that she counted on the feathers that rimmed the edge to cover her nipples, which were just barely tucked inside and threatened to pull free every time she moved. It was a whore’s dress. And yet, as she gazed into the small looking glass that leaned against the makeshift dressing table, she admired the long line of her neck, the graceful curve at her shoulder and the way the feathers highlighted her bosom. Her bare skin gleamed with her natural feminine charm in a way she’d never seen before, that is, all but the nasty welt that had been laid there by one of her trainer’s whips. Her long tangle of hair combed into a mane of lustrous brown. If it weren’t for the metal cuffs still ringing her wrists and ankles, she might have passed for a presentable lady, albeit a daring one. She wondered what Daniel would think of her so attired. Would it shame him, anger him, or arouse his fierce sexual passions? She imagined the latter—as her husband was not some stodgy Englishman who would revile her for being so shockingly attired. Of course, he would hate the venue; he would take her from this hellish captivity and use her as a husband has a right to use his wife. If only…
