The courtyard now contained Lucy’s garden. Enclosed on all four sides, the garden had become Lucy’s private sanctuary. When troubled, she could be found walking the circle of stones, pausing often to tend to one plant or another. It was overlooking this garden that the Master and Mistress of Greenbrier now sat and ate their dinner. Lucy was restless and distracted. Beau was calm and intent, watching her every move. The talk was filled with wedding details. Apart from some minor suggestions that Lucy immediately took to heart, she had his complete approval. Relieved, Lucy took a deep breath and allowed herself to relax over tea and dessert. Coffee, Beau told her, was now forbidden. It only added to her anxiety, and she would have none of it until after their wedding day.

“But, as I promised, I do have a surprise for you.” He went to the bed where he had placed a large box at the start of their meal. “Come here, my dear, and see what I have brought you.”

“What is it?”

“Lift it out and tell me what you think it is.” He stepped back.

At first she thought it was a new harness for a horse but that was quickly dismissed. The series of leather straps, buckles and loops would never have fit such a creature. Seeing her slight bewilderment, Beau reached over and turned it right-side up. Her cheeks grew pink then paled then went pink again. “It’s for me to wear, isn’t it?” He nodded. “For how long?”

“Until our wedding night.”

“Starting when?”

“Starting tonight, my dear.” Her hazel eyes became horror struck as the chastity belt dangled from her own hands before her.  “You are to remain chaste until then anyway. What difference should this device make to you?”  Beau smiled knowingly.  He took the belt from her hands and lay it back on the bed. “Of course, I know you won’t be unfaithful to me but will wear it because I wish you to wear it and for no other reason than that. Now,” he took up both her hands in his, kissed them in turn, and smiled. “There is one last thing to do before that is put into place though.” Her eyes skidded away from his gaze. “You know what to do, my love.”

Her eyes shut as she took a deep breath and then released it slowly. “Yes, I know, Sir.” As humiliating as it was, Lucy set to work preparing her own tonic. From her toilet table drawer, she removed the all-too-familiar bottle of concentrate, and there was still warm water in the teapot that could be used. When it was mixed, Lucy withdrew from a locked drawer the enema bag she hated so much. She checked the tubing and clamp then poured the mixture into the bag. Beauregard nodded his approval, reached up and hung the bag from the top of the bedpost, some seven feet in the air. Lucy knelt on the floor and assumed her most submissive of positions, her bare bottom thrust up into the air and her head to the floor.

His blue eyes grew darker as he looked at her. The smile that had been so easy before now grew serious. “I have noticed you’re acting a bit too demanding as of late.  It is a given that you are Mistress here and will be even more so after our marriage. However, what seems to have slipped your mind more times than not is that I am Master of this house and Master of you.” His hand moved over her bare bottom in slow even circles.

“I have not forgotten that, Sir.”

There was a sudden, hard slap from his hand. “Nor shall you ever.” She winced as he now ran his fingernails over the warming spot where his hand had struck her. “I admit to being otherwise occupied, and I think you have taken my preoccupation and used it to your advantage a bit too much.”  His hand spanked her a second time, much harder than the first. “Do you agree?”

She held her breath. An affirmative would admit she was taking advantage of him in some way which maybe she was in her spending habits. A negative would be used as a reason for him to tell her she did not agree with his observations, and he might use it for further punishment. She took the only road she could find and remained perfectly silent. It proved the wrong one.

“Answer your Master, my pet,” he insisted then slapped her bare skin a third time.

“I haven’t meant to take advantage, Sir. I was only trying to do what had to be done and not bother you. I have to take charge of some things. You aren’t always available.”

He pondered this answer and agreed. “I have been unapproachable, haven’t I?”

“Yes, Sir.” For a moment, Lucy thought maybe she would be spared the tonic this time.

She was wrong. Suddenly the metal tip of the hose was shoved into her bottom and Beau released the clamp. No direction was needed. She knew to hold still and be quiet. When her fingers began to dig into the carpet beneath her, Beau only watched and waited until the bottle was empty.  There was so much to do before things changed, he thought. How could he get it all done with so little time left? When the tip was removed and the stopper put into its place, his hand went absently to the quirt nearby. “Count for me,” his voice was automatic, unfeeling, and distant. “Backwards from thirty,” he added in the same tone.

“Thirty… twenty-nine…” Lucy turned her head, watching his boots as he slowly began to pace around her in a circle. What was wrong with him? The pain in her stomach sharpened. “Twenty-one, twenty, nineteen…”

The quirt struck her bare backside. Beau flinched when she cried out at the sudden pain.  His own sex twitched, aching to come to life.  But he mustn’t think of that now. Not yet. “Fifteen…fourteen…thirteen…” She counted down. Her head turned, burying her face against the floor in obvious agony. He smiled and raised the quirt again.

“Ten.” It struck. “Nine.” And again. Each number brought a new red welt to her pale skin. “Eight.” Tears burned down her face, and Lucy clenched to control what little she could. “Seven…six…five.” Determined not to plead or beg, Lucy dug her nails deeper into the rug. “Four.” The quirt hit harder, criss-crossing the lines. “Three, two, one.” Beau’s pacing stopped. His boots were in front of her face. She could tell without even opening her eyes. The scent of the polished leather filled her head.

“Kiss them and thank me.” He looked down at her, unsmiling. So much to do, he thought.

Moaning, Lucy rose up onto her hands and knees just enough to kiss the toes of his boots. “Thank you, Master.”

He bent down and kissed her shoulder.  “Good girl. You may go to your closet now. When you are done, return to bed.”

Legs trembling and barely able to move, Lucy somehow made her way to her private toilet and closed the door.  Still as stone, Beau watched the door shut and listened to her moans of pain. He closed his own eyes, fighting against his desire.  How was he to endure what was to come?  There was no choice. He was not in control of that. With the quirt still clenched in his fist, Beau turned and left the room.

When Lucy emerged almost thirty minutes later, the room was still empty. The table they had eaten at was cleared away and set back into its usual order. Fresh logs lay in the fireplace, and her bed had been straightened with the covers turned down.  The tears she had just gotten rid of returned. Climbing into bed, Lucy buried herself and wept. None of this was right. She could make no sense of his behavior. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. She cried until her head throbbed, and her body fell into a fevered, restless sleep.

***

“Whatever do you mean, Sir?” She knew exactly what he meant. They had been watching the group of men for the past fifteen minutes from the vantage point of the upstairs window.

“Do not tell me you were unaware of the body tied to the tree at your front gate.”

“It is true, I don’t get out much anymore since the Yankee’s stole every last one of my horses, Sir.” She continued to smile as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. “But, yes, I did know of that man’s presence. I ordered him placed there right after I shot him. And might I ask that you kindly keep your voice down. I have a sick domestic in the house and should hate to have her rest disturbed. Is there a problem with the corpse, Major?” She looked at his insignia.

“Madam, I should think that one such as yourself would know the proper conduct and respect that should be given the dead. What you have done is anything but respectable.” His ears were growing a pretty shade of pink as he spoke.

“Nor was he respecting of my person, Sir. He and his men stole my last horse, and he made a motion to accost me. Anyone in this house can tell you that.”

“Mrs. Addams, I understand things are difficult out here, but we haven’t the men to patrol this far out of city limits. Regardless of who he was and what he did you, we don’t leave people out to be scavenged by wild animals.”

Her chin lifted with pride. “I do, Sir. Yankees are no better than wild beasts, and so I left him to his own kind. I gave him all the proper respect he deserved.” She gave a little smile. “I did save his personal effects. I was going to post them to his family; but, being as I have no way to get into town and walking is quite out of the question, I still have them. They are yours, if you like.”

The Major scrubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Yes, please. That would be most generous of you.” He sighed and shook his head. “In the future, could you contact someone to dispose of your bodies instead of propping them up like that? It’s vile, Mrs. Addams. Quite vile.”

Her eyes grew startled. “Are you suggesting that we will have to deal with more such ruffians?”

“As I already stated, this estate is beyond the reach of our troop’s patrol range. We are doing the best we can. At the very most, I can arrange for someone to make a trip out here a few times a week to check on you.” As far as he was concerned, he never wanted to step foot on Addams property again. “I’m afraid beyond that you will have to defend yourselves.”

“It hardly seems right, but what other choices have we?”

“Very few, I’m afraid. If you were to move closer into town maybe…”

Lucy gasped as if she’d been slapped. “Most certainly not.”

“It was only a suggestion, Ma’am. What happened to the others?”

“The others?”

“You said he had other men with him. What has become of them?”

“Oh.” She pursed her lips and tipped her head as if trying to remember. “Well, I imagine I was able to scare them enough so they won’t follow in his foolish footsteps.”

“They ran off when you shot him?”

“They won’t be bothering us again here, no.”

He wasn’t completely satisfied with the reply but had better things to do. He slid his hat back on. “If you would be so kind as to bring me his personal items, we will be on our way then.”

“Of course.” She was gone but a few moments before returning with the man’s haversack.

A young cadet stepped into the room. “All loaded into the wagon, Major.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right out.” The Addams house had always been a source of unusual rumors. The doctor was known for his eccentricities and when he had gone so far as to marry one of his own hysteria patients, tongues did wag. The daughter and only child of Edward Borgia had always been a little off kilter in her own way. Regardless, nothing illegal had ever been reported and gossip tends to be more tall tale than truth. “I will wish you and yours a good afternoon, Mrs. Addams, but I must repeat that I do not want to be called out here again under such morbid circumstances. Is that clear?”

“Quite clear, Sir. You won’t be.” Her smile was sweet, and her eyes sparkled of an innocence that was far too pure to be real. “Good day.”

With the touch of his hat, he turned to go. “Good day.”

The door was eased shut. Lucy pressed her back to it, covering her mouth with both hands to hold back the fit of laughter. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, if he only knew, can you imagine it?” As the rattle of the wagon and clomp of horses faded, Lucy let out a wild yelp of giggles, clutching her stomach. “Did you see, Abby? Oh, did you see? How shall I ever be able to keep a sober face again? It was too delicious.”

Abby, who had stood in the kitchen doorway listening, scowled her disdain and worry. “I saw, Miss Lucy. And I can’t say as I approve. Nor would Master Beau.”

It all made Lucy laugh harder. “Now you’ve got that same look as the poor Major.” She leaned against the doorframe to steady herself, tears of delight rolling down her face.

“I aught to tend to lunch, Miss.”

“Oh, alright.” Lucy giggled. “I’ve had my fun with the Major. I’ll behave properly now.”

“I should hope so, Miss Lucy.” Abby retreated to the sanity of her kitchen. Not a day passed that she did not find herself praying for the Master’s quick return.

Behaving herself was the last thing Lucy wanted to do now. The whole incident had made her giddy. She wanted to play and retrieved her coat and hat from the row of wooden pegs near the door. “Cassy,” she called down the hallway, completely ignoring her own request of the Major to keep a low tone. “Grab your things and meet me in the stables.”  With a light heart, she went back through the dining room and into the kitchen. “How long until it’s ready?”

“An hour at most, Miss. Where you running off to now?” The girl was like a wild filly these days.

With a kiss on the cheek, Lucy chirped her intentions. “Just down to the stable for a bit of fun.”

“Master Beau ain’t gonna like this, Miss. I’s telling’ ya.”

“Oh, pooh on Master Beau. He’s the one who chose to run off and play soldier or spy or whatever he’s doing. While the cat’s, or in this case, Master’s, away...” She kissed the colored on the cheek again and went out into to cool December air.

“Good afternoon, Thomas.” Entering the stable, Lucy quickly found the blacksmith.

“Ah, af’noon, Ma’am Lucy. You’s in a fine mood today. I’s feared those soldier men takin’ your prize from the front gate would puts you’s in a foul mood.”

Removing her coat and hat, Lucy only shrugged. “Oh, no. I was tired of looking at the mess anyway. No harm done. So, how are the boys this afternoon?”

“They’s the same as usual; lots of complainin’ and the like every times I go in to take them food an’ water.”

“Miss Vivianne and Master Beau would have punished them.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Then I should, too.”  From the back wall, she chose a thin, leather covered paddle. “Fetch the two that have given you the hardest time. String them up like you would for Beau or Vivianne.” The paddle dangled from her fingers by a loop of rawhide.

Thomas hurried off. Lucy went to the adjacent room. It was wedged between the front part of the stable where Thomas spent most of his leisure time and the regular stable that housed the horses. The hardwood floors were swept clean and the walls were mostly bare. Suspended from the high ceiling were a pair of chains; and from the end of these chains was a hook; and over this hook, the center of a pair of manacles could be slung. Too high to be unhooked by the wearer and just low enough so they had to stand on tip-toe, these devices had served Dr. Addams and friends well for many years.

It was from these hooks that two of Lucy’s captives would be displayed and stripped of their clothing. They were shuffled into the room one at a time. The bit gags in their mouths prevented any clear speech but allowed guttural and angry protests and did nothing for the violent glares Lucy received as they entered and saw her. “Well, what have we here?” They tried to twist around to hide their nakedness from her as Thomas hooked them to the chains. “Oh, boys, so modest now and not so brave as we were four days ago, are we?” Their stretched limbs jerked against the chains. “Thomas tells me you’ve been being very difficult. I’m here to let you know that being difficult is not tolerated at Greenbrier. Good behavior has its rewards just as bad behavior has its punishments.” The paddled twirled openly in air. “And naughty boys are paddled.” The chains clanked and the anger of their protests grew louder.

SMACK! Lucy struck the nearest bare bottom as hard as she could. The man danced and turned on his tip-toes. “Don’t want to hide your little bits of manhood from me now, do you?” His face grew beat red, but he dared not turn back the other way.

SMACK! The other man was struck just as hard as the first with the same result.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Each was struck in turn, back and forth, until they did not know the best way to face.  Their moving about made it harder for her to hit them on the ass so she hit their outer thighs just as often as the pale flesh she was aiming for.

SMACK! SMACK! As their skin grew redder and redder, their gasps for breath around the bit gags became more desperate. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

A gust of cooler air shifted Lucy’s hair that had tumbled down from its normally tidy bun. Cassy entered the room, out of breath and hurried. “Lucy.”

“It’s about time, Cass. The fun has just started.” But the look in the Creole’s eyes was anything but playful. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Missy. You best come to the house.”