Little House Lewd: Chapter 20

An hour later she had cried herself out and was so exhausted and cold she didn’t at first notice that Mr. Brewster had returned until she felt her wrists being untied. Her arms were numb, her legs weak, and he had to help her stand and get into the house.

She collapsed on the sofa before the fire, soaking in the heat as her whole body shook. All the energy in her had vanished completely. It was all she could do to simply fall over onto the sofa. Sleep washed over her in warm waves when she felt herself lifted from the sofa, but she was too exhausted to wake up.

The next thing she knew, Laura was waking up to dawn light in the bedroom. She was alone and had been stripped down to bare skin. However, she did not seem to have been molested. She did not know how long she had slept, but it did not feel like it had been long nor truly restful. She was still bone tired, and her face and chest were sore from the beating she had taken from Mrs. Brewster.

The room was colder than ice when she threw off the covers. Laura dressed as quickly as she could in the terrible cold, finding that the temperature was just a bit warmer than the day before when she was able to nearly button herself all the way up before losing all feeling in her fingers.

In the other room a roaring fire made the sides of the stove glow, though the warmth was pressed close to the fire. She freshened herself at the wash basin, and in the little mirror above it was unsurprised to see her face and chest were bruised in several spots.

Breakfast was ready when Mr. Brewster came in through the back door stamping his sore feet. She watched him taking off his wraps, wondering if she should ask about the school, half afraid what would happen if school was cancelled again when they were alone in the house.

He caught her watching him and shook his head, already knowing her question.
“It’s a little warmer, but the wind is blowing cold from the northeast. No school today.”

Laura did not say anything. She didn’t know what she wanted to say, and even if she had it would have done no good to plead her case. Instead, she plated their food.

As they ate in their usual silence Laura found that it was not as uncomfortable as it had been with Mrs. Brewster. Without her hostility the atmosphere was nearly companionable.

Mr. Brewster broke the silence unexpectedly. “I am sorry for what she did to you. I know she yells and carries on, but she’s never been physical with anyone like that. I never thought she would attack you, and I am truly sorry for that.”

Laura gapped at him, stuck between blinding anger and disbelief.

“Never been physical with anyone!” she nearly shouted, nearly mockingly. “The woman killed her own child in jealousy, and you thought she would not lay hands on me if given a chance! Sorry indeed! The way you’ve treated me all this time right in front of her when you knew neither one of us had a choice in the matter and now you’re sorry?”

Mr. Brewster stared at his plate as if ashamed. “What happened with Maisy was an accident. She didn’t really mean to kill her; she just turned around for a minute and the worst happened. Last night was the first time she was ever violent like that. We’ve had a few teachers room with us, and I admit I treated them as I have you, but she always accepted it. I knew something about you got under her skin, but I never would have left you tied up helpless if I’d have thought she would do such a thing as she did.”

Laura was still fumingly angry. “Well, I hope this is a lesson to you on how to treat women going forward,” she snapped.

The rest of the morning was quiet. They did not talk more about what had happened.

Laura did the housework in the morning and took out her books to study, wrapping herself in shawls even near the stove. Mr. Brewster simply sat on the sofa in front of the heater reading his paper. The only sounds were the occasional pop of the coal, the constant ticking of the clock, and the rustle of pages turning.

Despite the silence Laura could not study. Every time Mr. Brewster shifted position or cleared his throat, she expected him to come for her. After a while, she began to wonder what kept him from doing so. His wife wasn’t around to have a fit or berate him. His near-frozen feet had not deterred him yesterday, so she doubted they were staying him now. As forward as he had been the day before, she was sure her own outburst was not enough to keep him at such a respectable distance. Had his wife’s attack on her and demanding to leave truly made the difference?

Laura stared at her history book without seeing it. Her mind wandered, wondering what her students must be doing with this sudden break from school when she realized with a horrid jolt that Mrs. Brewster was now staying with Mr. Brewster’s brother where Clarence was. What might she have said to them by now? She had been so vocal about her dislike of Laura and the activities going on under her roof that surely, she had already told them everything.

She looked up in fright at Mr. Brewster. Her heartbeat so hard in her ears she could hear nothing else.

If Mrs. Brewster told her in-laws of what Laura had been subjected to, they may tell others. What if they told people in town? De Smet was the nearest place to get supplies and mail; they were guaranteed to be there at some point soon. How could Laura live with the shame if the whole town knew? It would ruin her reputation and career as a teacher. The only work she would be able to get would be in the saloons.

The world seemed to twist as she imagined how Pa would look when he found out. It was not only her who would be ruined, but her whole family! Despite that she had not been deflowered, enough had been done that she would be a disgrace. No man would want to marry her, and without a way to earn money she would be nothing but a burden on her family. They may even be so dragged down by her that they would have to leave, go further West or go back East, or maybe simply put her out.

“Mr. Brewster, what if she tells them what you have been doing to me?” Laura blurted into the silent house before she could stop herself.

Turing the paper, he answered in an unconcerned tone, “No one around here believes a word that comes out of her mouth. They think she kills babies and have known her to lie, and don’t put any stock in what she says.”

This was not enough to give Laura any true comfort. Even knowing how Clarence detested his aunt, Laura could not help imagining the woman twisting the whole sordid tale and telling Clarence that Laura had been a happy participant. Over the evenings together during his private lessons she had shared with him what she was going through, how terrible it was, how much she wanted it to end, and he had always been supportive. He had even offered to speak with his uncle on her behalf, but she had told him not to, that it could make things worse. She did not like the idea that Mrs. Brewster could be feeding him a distorted version of events.

At least I am going home this evening, Laura thought to herself.

This little bright thought kept her spirits up until noon when she went to the outhouse to find the weather so cold she could not feel her feet after just the few steps to the little out building. By the time she made it back inside only a few minutes later she was shivering so violently that when she sat on the sofa before the open heater the whole piece of furniture shook with her.

By three o’clock she had lost all hope that Mr. Wilder would be coming to get her. It was far too cold to drive.

Laura had just tied on her apron to start supper when the silvery sound of the sleigh bells suddenly sounded outside the shanty. Her heart leapt into her throat with joy, and she was reaching to untie the apron when Mr. Brewster opened the door.

For a moment, Laura did not understand what the men were saying to each other. Her mind refused to take their words in. Only when she heard Mr. Brewster say to pull the horses around back and he would meet Almanzo at the barn did the words finally make sense. It was too cold to drive back. The horses were dangerously cold and Almanzo was nearly frozen as well. Mr. Brewster had went to help get the horses into shelter and cared for, and invited Almanzo to stay until the cold snap ended.

As the door closed behind Mr. Brewster, Laura dropped bonelessly into a chair. She would not be going home that week. Even if Almanzo stayed only that night, there would be no point in going back for only one day just to make the long drive back again. And that was even if the weather warmed enough to allow them to leave that weekend at all. It could be days, perhaps even a week before the weather warmed enough to make the trip safely.

Swallowing her despair, Laura started supper. It would do no good to wallow in her self pity, and the men would need a hot meal to warm them when they got back in from saving the horses. She stoked the fires in the heater and the stove and set to work so as to keep her mind off the improper fact she was now a single woman alone in a house with two men.

It was a long time before they came in with a frigid gust of air, stamping the snow off their boots.

Almanzo looked at her smiling, but when he caught sight of the bruises his whole face faltered. She could see his mouth moving as he tried to say something but was struck dumb.

“Hello, Mr. Wilder,” she greeted him as warmly as she could. “Please excuse the way I look, I took quite a tumble last night. It looks worse than it is.”

His expression showed plainly that he was skeptical of her story, but he did not question her.

“Can’t believe anyone would dare such a trip on a day like this. I can’t even guess at how cold it is out there,” Mr. Brewster stated.

“It was 20 below zero when I set out, and a little over halfway the temperature felt like it dropped another 20!” Almanzo proclaimed while they ate the hot food and drank tea. “Every other mile I had to stop and clear the ice off the horses’ noses to keep them from suffocating. Felt like I never would reach shelter!”

“I am sorry you had to come out in such weather,” Laura replied apologetically.
Almanzo waved that away. “Even as cold as it’s been all week, I had been planning to come out for you. Not until this afternoon was I in two minds about making the trip. Cap saw me checking the temperature before I left and he said to me over his shoulder as he went into the store, “God hates a coward”.”

Laura raised her eyebrows at him. “So you came because you wouldn’t take a dare?”

“No, I don’t believe it was a dare. I just figured he was right.”

Mr. Brewster nodded. “That young man is right. Out here you have to be willing to take chances or nothing would get done.”

The men went on talking about homesteading and their farms long into the evening, and Laura found herself to be comfortably at ease listening while she did her evening work and settled down in Mrs. Brewster’s vacant rocking chair to study near the warm stove. For the first time during her whole stay, the little shanty felt warm and cozy.

At eight o’clock Laura bade them good night and went into the cold bedroom. She shivered into her night dress and between the cold quilts. She had been so tired all day that despite the chill she found herself drifting off before she was even warm.
Some time deep in the night Laura dreamed she was being touched. Slowly, methodically, maddeningly fingers crept inside her night gown and teased her until she came awake with a gasp, her spine arching up into the touch. She felt feverish with arousal, confused and foggy minded. Her thighs squeezed together, and she found that the pressure made the achy nub between them scream with pleasure. That had never happened before, the belt had always kept that bit of flesh untouchable.

Involuntarily her hips rocked back and forth, rubbing at her deliciously. Each thrust of her hips caused her back side to hump against the hard hot rod jammed there. The more the fingers at her chest tugged and her hips thrust the more the painful ache between her legs desired to feel that rod inside it.

One of the hands left her chest and covered her mouth and muffle the sounds she could not control. The back of her night dress was raised, and that burning hardness pushed into the tiny slick gap between her inner thighs, rubbing her opening and prodding at the nub at her front. Dimly she was aware that she had moaned long and loud into the hand clamping her mouth shut, and for some reason she couldn’t remember she was thankful to have been silenced.

Slowly, the heated pole dragged backwards, the thick ridge at its tip raking over all the parts of her that wanted more. She bucked against it desperately, another moan muffled into the hand over her mouth. Her mind was too addled, too hot, too over-wrought. Nothing mattered but satisfying that insistent need to finally, finally be filled.

“Please…” she moaned, her word hardly audible through the thick palm.

At first there was no reply. Both hands accosted her chest again while the thick flesh nestled between her legs pulsed against her. She squirmed and writhed. Her own small hands tried to pull the larger ones away but were too weak, and when she tried to touch herself she could not reach it for the arms wrapped around her were in the way. Miserably she tried to rock her hips again, only for a long leg to reach over top and pin them in place.

“Please, I can’t take any more of this!” she heard a woman whisper. She did not recognize the voice. It was several seconds before she realized it had been her own.
“You’ve held out for five weeks already,” the low voice of Mr. Brewster whispered back. “Another few weeks of this is fine. You’re a good girl who doesn’t get effected by such things as this aren’t you?”

Laura was nearly sobbing with need now, and the mocking somehow made that need worse. “I can’t! Please I can’t do this! Anything but continuing to be tortured like this!”

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Mr. Brewster answered, and she felt his lips graze her ear. “If I can fuck that wet little hole between your legs and you not cum before me, I’ll let you go home with that man with full pay for the whole term.”

The weight of the offer seemed impossible to understand. She knew he was offering her to go home, to get away from this awful ordeal, and to put an end to the painful ache. But what if she could not hold herself back from cumming? She had never done it before, did not know exactly what it felt like or how to stop it from happening if it started.

“What…if I can’t last longer than you?” she asked hesitantly.

His fingers rolled her nipples so that her mind went blank. “Taking the deal or not?” he asked without answering her.

“Yes,” she barely managed to breathe out.

There was a quick whirl of movement, and she found herself on her hands and knees facing towards the open doorway, and the air caught in her chest when she saw Almanzo sleeping on the sofa in the low orange light of the heater’s fire just as the burning tip of Mr. Brewster touched her entrance. Her eyes were fixed on Almanzo as the appendage slowly pushed forward, her body stretching hungrily around it. The relief to finally feel something inside her made her head swim. She had thought it would hurt, but all she felt was a bubbly euphoria as more and more of him sank deeper into her until he could go no further.

Laura’s legs shook as the heavy weight of Mr. Brewster’s cock sat motionlessly inside her. She felt full in a way she had never imagined. Even without moving, she could feel it pulsing, and each time it pulsed her own tunnel contracted in return. Then, she was contracting out of sync with the pulses. For a moment she was confused, and then all at once her muscles clamped down hard on it, electricity shot up her spine, her whole body went rigid and hot and the most delicious waves of sensation she had ever felt in her whole life washed over her.

She began to fall forward, her arms giving out, but Mr. Brewster’s arms caught her and pulled her up to press her back against his torso. Holding her there, he began to move inside her, causing a fresh torrent of those ecstatic waves to zap through her. Each thrust inward the tip of him jammed against something that brought a new pinnacle racing through her.

He chuckled low against her ear, whispering, “Couldn’t even warm my cock in you first.”

All thought had left her. She could not make sense of anything he said. Had she lost?

After several seconds of this, Mr. Brewster laid her front-facing on the mattress and, gripping her hips to hold her backside level, began long deep stokes that rammed right up into that glorious spot inside her.

Though her vision was jarred by his movements she could see through the open door Almanzo asleep on the sofa with his hat pulled over his face. Dimly, she hoped he would not wake up to see her in such a state, but another part of her mind wickedly imagined what it would feel like if he were the one buried between her legs. The wickedness of the thought mixed with a particularly hard slam to that spot and she felt another of those intoxicating explosions.

He let go of her hips, his hands gripping onto her forearms and pinning them to the mattress as his thrust became harder and more erratic. The tip of him bashed against the end of her interior in jolts that were becoming more painful that pleasurable. The fog in her mind cleared just enough for her to realize what was happening.

“Mr. Brewster take it out of me!” she demanded in a whisper.

“Not part of the deal,” he muttered through gritted teeth as he slammed into her.

“NO!” she could barely keep her voice low. “No take it out! You’ll get me pregnant! Take it-”.

She did not get to finish. He shoved so hard into her that her hip bones felt the ropes under the mattress. She felt him growing somehow even thicker, pulsing, and then it felt as if he had poured boiling hot water deep within her. As Laura lay there, motionless, unable to process the gravity of what he had done, she felt another orgasm building with the heat and pulsing until the strongest most debilitating sensation roared through her. From head to toe her entire body tingled, her spine bowed until she was bent double, she thrashed in place, and it felt as if her insides narrowed impossibly tight around him.

Mr. Brewster gasped as she clamped unwillingly onto him, then cursed. “Gonna cum again as tight as you are.”

Desperately she tried to relax and managed only something of a spasm that sent him over the edge again with another curse. No more could fit, and she felt thick gouts of it beginning to drip down the backs of her thighs.

She was too weak to move now. She was too stunned. When he began again to use her she did not protest or struggle. It was already too late. Not only had she not been able to even attempt to hold herself back, she had not considered at all the repercussions of allowing him to take her would be. She had been so overwhelmed, her mind so consumed with the need to make the torment end, that she had not given any thought to the fact he would also be trying to ejaculate, and that he would be doing so inside her.

As he lifted her nearly lifeless body to press back against himself her eyes fell on Almanzo again, and with horror she was sure she could see a tiny glimmer of the flickering firelight glinting off his eye in the darkness under his hat.