Little House Lewd: Chapter 4

Next morning dawned on a very tired Laura. Even just the events of the night before would have been enough to hinder her sleep, but trying to get back to sleep with the cold metal chastity belt pressing against her usually warm places had been even more distracting. The device was a curved piece of metal that fit between her legs and up to her waist in front and back where metal bands connected around her sides. Each band was hinged in the back to allow it to be put on and taken off. The front of the bands fit into a slat in front with a key hole that, with the key, locked them securely in place. Mr. Brewster had strung that key on a thin strip of leather and put it around his neck the night before.

I have only to get through one day at a time, Laura told herself.

It was hard to stay where she was both unwanted, and wanted too much. She was uncomfortable in ways that had never happened to her before. Men had been inappropriate to her in the past, but never before had any man gotten so close to what Mr. Brewster had done the night before. Her body remembered the feeling of his hardness pushing between her folds and sitting heavily against her opening.

She was startled to feel a sharp pulse in her nethers in response to that memory. Her face flushed hot, ashamed at feeling any excitement at that awful experience.

Frustrated with herself, Laura threw the blankets back and moved to get off the narrow sofa but was halted by the sensation of something cold running across her tender bit within the belt as she moved. Confused, she replicated the motion and felt the same sensation. What felt like a low smooth nub of metal was affixed to the inner wall of the belt at just the right position that sitting pushed it against her. It was not really sticking out or pressing into her, but it was just enough that she could feel that tiny bit of her bump over it when she moved.

How had she not noticed this last night? She reasoned she had been too panicked before going back to bed, and once laying down she could only truly lay in one position without falling off the sofa.

 Carefully, Laura got up and shivered into her dress.

In the main room she politely said “Good morning,” to Mrs. Brewster, but she could not manage a smile. The other woman would not even look at her, would not acknowledge Laura was even there.

When Mr. Brewster came in he ignored his wife’s sullen attitude.

“Need to relieve yourself?” he asked Laura, and she realized that she did. She was too ashamed to say it, but she nodded. “I’ll go with you to take care of the locks.”

“Is that really necessary?” Laura questioned, aghast at the notion that he would go with her to the latrine.

“It’s part of the deal,” he said, and that was it. He walked to the door and she could do nothing but follow him outside.

At the outhouse he held the door open for her and followed her into the tiny room. Her heart raced at how again she was in a dangerous situation in a latrine.

He had her hold up her skirts while he unlocked and removed the belt. She was worried he was going to force her to do her business in front of him, but was relieved that he stood outside instead. Once finished, he came back in to lock her in. He did not grope at her or touch her more than needed to secure her back into the belt.

Still, she was mortified by the experience. When she had agreed to wear the belt she hadn’t thought that she would not be able to even use the toilet alone. In a way she felt she had traded one dignity for another.

Inside, Laura helped the sullen Mrs. Brewster get breakfast. She realized quickly that bending in any way caused the belt to move and rub the little bump against her. By the time breakfast was on the table and they were all sat down to eat she was already worried how she would get through the day, let alone the next 8 weeks.

Breakfast went quickly in silence. Mrs. Brewster left the table halfway through the meal to sit broodingly wrapped in a quilt in her rocking chair by the stove with her back to the other two. No one acknowledged her. When the meal was over Laura cleared the table, washed the dishes, and packed her own dinner pail.

The walk through the knee deep snow quickly became a trial of frustration as every high step she took moved that nub against her. She had never been especially lascivious, never prone to struggling with such desires, but by the time she made the half-mile trek with that flicking at every step she was out of breath from more than exertion.

While she had been dreading that second school day, the morning passed smoothly. She was relieved to find that she was able to stay seated at the teacher’s desk for most of the time. The nub still pressed ever so slightly into her while sitting, but the pressure was light enough to be able to ignore it.

Clarence idled instead of studying and Laura dreaded that she must punish him again, but thankfully he knew his lessons. Perhaps she would have no real trouble with him after all.

Everything was going well when a knock sounded on the door. Laura’s heart sank to find Mr. Brewster there, but she put on a pleasant disposition and welcomed him into the schoolhouse.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today Mr. Brewster?” she asked brightly.

He held out the dinner pail to her, and she weakly took it. She had been in such a rush to get away from the Brewster’s that morning that she had forgotten the pail.

Like the day before, Laura announced they would take their dinner. She sat at her desk and ate bread and butter, pretending to study her books for an excuse to stay out of conversation. Too soon, the students finished their meals and rushed to get outdoors.

“While I’m here do you want me to unlock you to use the necessary?” he asked when they were alone.

Laura swallowed nervously. “In light of where we are, can you please give me the key to unlock myself? I can’t risk the children noticing anything untoward is happening.”

“Either I unlock you and put you back, or you wait until you get back to the shanty,” he answered flatly.

For a few moments Laura considered what to do. She knew that waiting until that night would be too long. Out the window she could see that all the children were out front, where as the outhouse was behind the schoolhouse.

Offhandedly, he added, “Or you can risk messing yourself.”

That settled the matter for her.

She followed him out the only door, avoiding looking at the pupils playing far off in the snow as she and Mr. Brewster walked around the corner and to the back of the schoolhouse. Inside the latrine he unlocked her and went back outside to wait as he had done that morning. As quickly as she could she did what she had to do, and  when she went to clean herself was horrified to notice the slimy evidence of the effect the nub inside the belt was having on her.