Little House Lewd: Chapter 10

As soon as Laura returned she could tell that Mrs. Brewster had entirely let the housework go. Snow tracked in had been left to melt into puddles that mixed with the ashes around the stove. Black shoe prints criss crossed the room where they had walked through the dirty water. In the bedroom the bed was a tangled mess. The dishes were piled in a greasy heap in the dishpan.

Mrs. Brewster sat wrapped in her quilt in front of the heater brooding at the fire. Her long black hair was lank, tangled, and hung in snarls around her thin pale face.

Mr. Brewster raised a hand in hello when she came in, but otherwise simply sat like a bump on a log. Laura had heard the phrase, but not until then had she understood what it meant. He did not fight, but he could not be budged either.

Laura set to work getting the house back in order. It was somewhat cathartic to clean such a dirty house. By supper time the bed was made, the floor scrubbed, and the kitchen cleaned. She set bowls of steaming hot potato stew before Mr. Brewster at the table, and silently set one on the little table next to Mrs. Brewster who had not moved. She did not expect the other woman to touch it, but was pleased to see that most of the bowl was empty when she collected the dishes to wash.

The house clean, Laura studied math until time for bed. The silence was so loud that she could hardly study though. Mrs. Brewster’s smoldering anger was palpable. Laura could not push away the story Clarence had told of how she had possibly drowned her own baby in a fury.

As she got up to go to the other room, Mr. Brewster stood as well.

“Ready for the belt?” he asked her, as calmly as if he were asking if she was ready for a cup of hot tea.

Her spirits sank a little, but she reminded herself stoutly that the belt kept her from being deflowered, and it was better to be in its cold clasp than bare. In the bedroom he watched her shiver into her nightgown before putting the chastity belt back on her. She was surprised that she was no longer nearly as shy as she had been just a week before when he had watched her shadow change clothes. She was still hot with embarrassment, but it was not so overwhelming as it had been before. A shudder ran up her spine to realize that even this awfulness was becoming routine.

He did not wait to get his hands on her that night. He got in bed with her and set on her immediately.

“Mr. Brewster it’s Sunday!” she protested through gasps.

He did not answer or seem to care that it was the Lord’s day. She didn’t know if she had really expected him to in the first place.

All weekend she had been able to forget about her own perverse nature, but under his ministrations it was as if she had not had two days away. Soon she was so worked up again that she could not restrain herself from writhing which only served to rub his hardness into her back.

Monday morning she was drearily tired. She did not have the strength to try to speak to either of them, simply went through the now familiar motions of the morning.

When Mr. Brewster took her to the latrine things changed. When the belt came away he slipped his fingers into the warm wet juncture and rubbed at the aching little nub there just long enough for her knees to buckle at the momentary relief to finally have direct stimulation there. He leaned her against the wall of the latrine while she struggled to get herself back under control, shaking and gasping.

“I know what will help that,” he said, and rubbed a large handful snow into her groin.

She shrieked, the sudden icy cold sensation painful, and fought against him fruitlessly. The snow melted almost immediately into rivulets running down her shaking thighs until it was only his cold palm pressing against her, but she was too numb there to feel anything but the pressure.

“Don’t feel so hot now, do you?” he asked, and she had to admit that the need had dissipated entirely.

“No, I don’t,” she said, though she sounded very unsure. She would not have needed to be ‘cooled down’ if he had not gotten her hot to begin with. On the other hand, the snow had gone a long way to clean her of the unpleasant clear goo as well.

While she used the latrine he cleaned the belt with more snow so that the metal was numbingly cold. The whole half-mile walk to the schoolhouse she was so numb she did not feel the teasing ridge inside the belt rubbing her until she was almost at the door, and her blood finally warmed her button enough to have sensation again.

Inside the schoolhouse Ruby and Tommy were playing a game on one of their slates, but Clarence was in his seat staring out the window as if he had not even noticed her come in.

“Good morning Ruby and Tommy,” she said brightly as she set her things down. “Good morning Clarence.”

Tommy and Ruby both replied, but Clarence only raised two fingers at her to show his acknowledgement. He didn’t turn from the window to look at her at all.

His sudden attitude change jarred her. She tried and failed to think of what she could have done to change his demeanor towards her, but came up blank. She decided she would just give him space. Perhaps he had had a bad weekend and was just in a mood.

When they arrived Charles was his usual quiet self, but Martha was noticeably cool towards her. Martha was not rude, but the warmth she had shown the week before was certainly gone. These differences in the two students whom she had liked most were disheartening, and a bad omen for the rest of the morning.

The morning went from disheartening to distressing quickly. Tommy did not know a single word of his spelling lesson, and when asked why his excuse was to point at Ruby and say she would not let him have the speller.

“Why, Ruby! That’s not like you at all,” Laura said in surprise.

Then sweet little Ruby turned into a spitfire, yelling at her brother viciously while he argued back at her. Before she could stop them the two were all out quarreling at the top of their lungs.

“STOP THAT!” Laura sternly shouted to be heard over them, and they stopped yelling to glare at each other. Laura went to Tommy’s seat and gave him the speller. “Learn that lesson and you may stay in at recess to recite it to me.”

Tommy did as he was told although he looked less than pleased. Ruby didn’t say anything, but sat pouting at her desk the rest of the morning.

When it was time for the math portion of the day Martha could not work her arithmetic problems. Charles sat idly staring at the window. When told to keep his eyes on his lessons he did, but she could tell he was daydreaming and not seeing anything on the pages.

On occasion she would glance at Clarence hoping to see him giving her an encouraging smile but he refused to look at her. Even worse, when it was time for their history lesson and she asked him where the first settlement was made in Virginia, he did not know the lesson.

“Oh, I didn’t study that part,” he replied flippantly.

Laura raised her eyebrows at him, surprised. “Why didn’t you?”

Clarence finally looked at her, his eyes narrowed and laughing in a way that was not friendly at all. “The lesson was too long.”

Laura stared back into his darkly twinkling eyes, furious. She knew he wanted her to be angry, even expected it. He was clearly challenging her to do something about it, to try to punish him if she dared. But what could she do? She was too small to punish him, and if she showed how angry she was it would only give him what he wanted.

With a tremendous effort she kept quiet, turning the pages of the history book consideringly. “It’s too bad you did not learn this for it will make your next lesson so much longer. We mustn’t keep Charles and Martha back when they have done their work responsibly.”

She was pleased to see the coolness in Martha’s face warm a bit at the unexpected compliment. If nothing else, maybe she could still have a friendly relationship with Martha.

Laura went on hearing Charles and Martha recite the lesson, making sure to ask them questions that they would be sure to be able to answer to ensure that goodwill was reinforced. At the end of the lesson she set them another of the usual length and dismissed them to their seats.

As they turned to go back she caught the barest hint of a sneer in the tilt of Clarence’s lips. She felt sore from the drastic shift. If he had struck her she would not have felt worse than she did at heart already. Thursday evening and Friday he had been so caring, so encouraging; what could she have done to him to make him seemingly hate her now?

Laura thought to have a talk with him after school during their ‘extra lessons’ but when she dismissed them for the day he was out the door before his coat was even on.

Back at the Brewster’s shanty it was clear nothing had been done all day. Mrs. Brewster was still in her chair; she had not even made supper, leaving Laura to do all the cooking and housework while she sat in an angry silence.

While Laura peeled potatoes, she had a sudden thought.

“Did you speak to Clarence over the weekend, Mrs. Brewster?” Laura asked, trying to sound as casual and friendly as she could.

The other woman didn’t turn to look at her. “Ain’t seen anyone but you and Lou.” Her voice was very flat and course, as if she had not spoken in a long time.

The voice scared Laura. Mrs. Brewster didn’t sound angry the way her face would suggest. She sounded vacant.

“Oh…” was all Laura could utter back.

She decided to make the potato stew again for supper. It was the only thing she had seen Mrs. Brewster eat more than a mouthful of, and hoped that some hot food would do her good.