Little House Lewd: Chapter 15

All day she had been so focused on having a successful school day that she had only noticed the nuisance of the new belt when she went to the restroom, but on her walk through the deep snow back to the shanty it was quick to remind her that it was still there. She acknowledged to herself that it did excite her, but she was pleased to also acknowledge that she did not lose herself to it the way she had to the other belt.

All evening things seemed to be going well. Mrs. Brewster had kept up with the housework and made supper; she had even done all the laundry so the slightly sour smell of over-used clothing and bedding was replaced by the clean scent of soap. She was not a bubbly vivacious presence in the house of course, but she did not feel like a brooding poltergeist for a change.

The evening went smoothly enough that Laura was able to make up for lost time in her own personal studies. She had a long way to go to fully catch up, but with a few more evenings like that she would be ahead of the class again in no time.

When she went to bed she was again accosted by Mr. Brewster. He had gone in to bed early and she found him in bed slowly stroking himself while he waited for her.

“Need to tie your hands again, just in case,” he advised her, motioning to the thin rope he had left in a coil over the side of the headboard. “Hand that to me and turn around with your hands behind your back.”

Laura did as he told her, silently chanting her reminder that this was just another thing to endure. The rope was tight enough around her wrists to be uncomfortable, but loose enough to keep her hands from losing circulation. She was ready to get in bed and warm her numb-cold feet when he began the night’s unfortunate activities.

He did not touch her, instead laying her flat on the bed and taking her mouth again in a traumatizing event where she was nearly sure he was going to choke her to death on his member before he finished. He sank so deeply into her throat she could not even gag; her windpipe only spasmed in a weak effort to eject the obstruction.

When he finally began to extricate himself she could feel her throat muscles shrinking back to their normal size as he pulled out. The fresh air she gasped burned. Her lungs were on fire.

Much as she hated it, when his fingers found the opening in the belt he was quickly able to rub her into a writhing bucking frenzy. It was by no means easier to endure than the previous night, but she managed to keep herself from crying when he pulled his horribly skilled fingers away just when her body was about to reach its own completion.

She whimpered quietly, laying in her place so tense that her shaking was closer to a vibration. By force of will she got herself under control. Her breathing was finally almost normal, when suddenly the fingers were back. The second time was so much worse, so much more intense, and so much more frustrating that when he stopped again she couldn’t help but scream.

It took much longer to calm down after the second close call.

Only six weeks more. I can get through six weeks of this, she thought to herself. She thought about being home that weekend and was looking forward to the escape when she remembered her talk with Mr. Wilder. He might not be coming to get her that week, and if he didn’t she would be trapped with Mr. Brewster, likely being tormented and abused.

The dismal emotion brought tears to her eyes in the dark, but she would not let them fall. Mr. Brewster was sound asleep beside her. Mrs. Brewster came in and silently got in bed on the other side, soon asleep herself.

For a long time Laura lay as still as she could while her nether pulsed and throbbed, wetness pooling inside the belt and leaking down her legs. As she became half asleep she imagined how good it would feel to rub herself knowing that she wouldn’t deny herself the way Mr. Brewster was content to keep doing.

In her fevered sleep she dreamed of touching herself, but even in her dreams she could not finish. She had never done so awake, so her brain couldn’t imagine what it would feel like for her unconscious self.

She woke to her own whimpering and the motion of her hands being untied. The room was still dark, but she could tell it was morning.

“He’s got you in a right state,” Mrs. Brewster’s voice said from behind her. “The back of your nightgown is soaking wet.”

In the dark Laura felt her face redden. “I’m so ashamed; nothing like this has every happened to me!” The ropes came away and she sat up, hiding her face in her tingling hands as she felt the wetness against her skin.

Mrs. Brewster was dressing, facing away. “He’s a devil when he wants something bad enough, and he really wants you. None of the other girls have ever been as responsive as you are. Took him several weeks to break them down to where you are now.”

Laura was horrified. “Oh…oh no! What can I do? I’m already at my limit to resist!”

Mrs. Brewster said matter-of-factly, turning to face Laura with a dour face, “Some girls don’t feel anything to be touched, but for some it’s so strong it’ll drive them mad to be denied. You ain’t gonna make it six more weeks; you might not even last to the end of this week. When that man comes to pick you up Friday you go home, and don’t come back.”

Laura realized she was shaking. “I’ll never teach again if I quit a school mid-term. I have to teach to support my family… And…I don’t think Mr. Wilder is coming to get me again.”

The women looked at each other in the faint light of dawn coming through the window.

“God help you,” Mrs. Brewster said with a shake of her head, and she left the room. Laura wasn’t sure if she was disgusted by Laura, or the situation, or just everything.

Panic was quickly rising. Was she doomed to be defiled? Would she truly become desperate enough to allow herself to be?

No, she told herself resolutely. She resolved then that she would do whatever she had to do to ignore, divert, or dissuade Mr. Brewster from his disgusting goal.

She closed her eyes and imagined the nastiest thing she could think of. As vividly as possible she visualized the most sickening, feted, abominable things she had ever seen. Within a minute she was nauseated, but she was pleased to realize that she was almost entirely unaroused, and she had an idea how to banish it entirely.

Laura dressed and quickly went to the outhouse, scooping up a huge snowball that she took into the latrine with her. Just like Mr. Brewster had done the week previously, she held the solidly packed bunch of snow against her own privates until they were numbed. Finally, her desire was entirely extinguished.

She got through breakfast and the dishes and dashed out the door as quickly as she could, not even looking at Mr. Brewster. The whole walk to the school she worked through complex compound sentences to keep her mind off the way the belt moved against her.

The whole morning went just as smoothly as Monday had. Ruby was excited to have her turn writing her spelling lesson on the board. Tommy’s reading was immaculate for the first time all term. Charles only missed a single word of his spelling. Martha did so well with her arithmetic that Charles and Clarence cheered for her when she finished working the problems on the board.

When it was time for history Clarence proudly announced, “You may hear me recite as far as Martha and Charles. I’ve caught up to them.” His whole freckled face was beaming in a friendly smugness that brought a smile to Laura’s.

She exclaimed, “But how could you, Clarence?”

His expression became more serious, but the saucy glint twinkled in his eyes the same way Pa’s did when he had a surprise for Ma.

“If you can study at night, so can I,” Clarence said.

The fluttering erupted again in her stomach, and she struggled to keep herself from blushing as he looked at her.

“I am so proud,” Laura said. “All of you have done wonderfully and I could not be more pleased.”

At four o’clock that afternoon she dismissed school with a glad heart. Everyone was working diligently now. No one fidgeted or teased or quarreled.

She had just gathered her books together when the schoolroom door opened and she saw that Clarence had come back. He came to her desk and leaned against it, facing away from her, looking down at his hat in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Miss Ingalls,” he said after a long silence. “I’ve been a menace. When that man came to pick you up I thought he was your beau and it just made me…” What she could see of his face turned red, but he continued, “I guess I felt misled and I got jealous.”

“Oh Clarence,” she said quietly, and reached across the desk to touch his arm. “I did not mean to do that to you, and I don’t want to continue to. Even if a man were interested in me, I could not reciprocate no matter how I felt about him. My sister has three more years left until she leaves college. My family need me and my income too much for me to spend time courting that I could be spending working.” Jokingly, she added, “By the time they will be able to get by without me I’ll be far too old to be of any interest to anyone anyway!”

He turned to look at her, his face still pink, but he was smiling. “You’ve a long time yet before you’re old, and who cares about age anyway?”

His hand cupped the side of her face, and she was struck by how warm and soft it was despite the callouses. Her breath caught in her throat. Was she blushing or was the room suddenly very warm?

Laura opened her mouth to say something, but all the words she knew had vanished utterly. He chuckled at her flummox, but he did not laugh at her meanly.

“As you have no time for courting, do you perhaps still have time to do extra lessons with me after school a few days a week? Real lessons this time,” he asked.

She could not speak, but she nodded. He told her goodnight, and left.

All the way back to the Brewster’s house she was so warm that she did not feel the snow