Against Her Will

by Nicole Sturgill

  Temperance stood slowly on weak legs and went to the door. She tested it but it was locked. She was stuck here…. There was no escape.

  Grabbing Robert’s coat from the sack, Temperance went to the bed and sat down upon it, keeping her back against the hard metal bars of the headboard. She put the coat around her shoulders and curled up inside of it, praying that somehow she’d be saved…

  She desperately wished that she could go back to thinking that all Yancy wanted her to do was work at a job and give him her earnings--she wished she could lose herself in that naiveté once again but it was no use. She had been afraid before but now that she knew the real reason she was here--now that she had learned the truth--Temperance was terrified.

  Chapter Seven

  Hours turned into days, days into weeks and weeks into months. Temperance spent months in that prison. Months simply curled up on her bed waiting for that door to open and for the lessons to take place. Lessons that had long since destroyed her spirit and left her a shell of that girl who had once lived in the Virginia wilderness with her loving family.

  The first lesson she had received had been at the hands of the tall man. He had come into the room just as Temperance had been drifting off to sleep her first night in this hell. She hadn’t even had time to ask what he was doing there before he had grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her from the bed.

  A sharp kick to her leg had driven her to her knees and, with one hand still gripping her hair tightly, the other undid his pants. Temperance had never seen a man’s organ before and when it popped out at her, hard, red and long, she gagged. The man had laughed loudly at that.

  Temperance hadn’t known what he wanted and she had opened her mouth to beg for mercy only to have that foul appendage shoved into her mouth.

  He rammed it down her throat and Temperance gagged. This only seemed to anger the man and he used his grip on her hair to shove her further down on himself.

  Temperance cried, hot tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. He began to thrust himself in and out roughly. Her throat hurt and she couldn’t breathe.

  She looked up at him through tearful eyes but he had his head thrown back and was moaning. Temperance prayed that this would end soon--that the pain would stop. He was holding her hair so tightly that her scalp throbbed and his manhood was abusing her jaws and throat.

  The man stiffened and then Temperance felt something warm and salty gush down her throat. The man let out a long, loud groan and then finally he released her.

  Temperance fell upon the floor, gasping for breath and vomited violently--retching up every ounce of what he’d spilled inside of her. Her heart thundered against her ribs and her gut twisted painfully. Never had she felt so dirty.

  The tall man had laughed at her discomfort, patted her hair, done up his pants and then walked out of the room, closing the door with a resounding thud behind him.

  Temperance hadn’t been able to move for a long while. Her mind once again shut down and she had simply stared into space as she lay upon the dirty floor. Her eyes saw nothing, her ears heard nothing and she knew nothing of time.

  That had been the first lesson. And more and more lessons came every day that followed. Temperance no longer gagged when they ravaged her throat. She no longer screamed when they would touch her body--her breasts and the juncture between her thighs. The months had taught her that screaming and begging for mercy did no good and oftentimes only served to make things worse.

  Yancy did allow her to leave the room once a day. She would spend an hour of every day that there was not rain in the yard, letting the sun warm her face. Her body was always in pain from their abuse but the sunlight felt therapeutic and she treasured those moments beneath its rays. Though those rays of sunlight could do nothing to ease her hunger or her pain.

  Yancy did not allow her to eat often. She knew that by withholding food he was trying to show her how much control he had over her and that she was powerless but he didn’t have to do that. Temperance already knew that she was at his mercy. The pain in her battered body was quickly becoming the norm for her as she grew accustomed to the aches and the soreness.

  Temperance was ashamed of herself and her inability to fight these men. She had tried in the beginning. Yancy had come into her room the morning after her first lesson. He had told her to come to him and she had refused which had earned her a rough smack. He had told her to drop to her knees and when she refused she’d gotten another smack. He had told her to open her mouth and her refusal to do that had earned her a kick to the gut. A kick that had rendered her breathless and gasping--Yancy had used that gasp to shove himself inside her mouth.

  Temperance had been desperate to get away--desperate to make it stop. So, she’d bitten him.

  Never in her life had she seen a man so angry. His raging fists and feet had rained down upon her. Blood had poured from her nose and mouth, dripping upon the dirty wooden floor. Her ribs had cracked beneath his abuse and she’d been certain that he was going to kill her before he laid her on the bed and raped her mouth despite the blood and the pain.

  Temperance had learned a very important lesson that day. Never fight back. She had always thought herself to be a strong person but now she knew that had been a lie.

  Temperance wasn’t strong--she was broken.

  She lay curled up on the bed one day--though she had no way of knowing what time of day it was--when the bedroom door opened.

  Immediately her heart sank to her feet and she rose from the bed and dropped to her knees on the floor earning herself a beaming smile from Yancy. “You’ve learned your lessons well,” he said in a gentle voice as he patted her limp red hair. “A man doesn’t want a woman for conversation. He doesn’t want her companionship. He wants her to be obedient, subservient and on her damn knees ready to please him whenever he enters a room.”

  Temperance nodded. “Yes sir,” she whispered, though inside she hated this man and knew he was wrong. Her father had not been that kind of man. Her brothers had not been that kind of men. Robert had not been that kind of man. Yancy was evil.

  “Get up, girlie.”

  Temperance frowned. Why did he want her to stand? Why wasn’t he pulling himself from his pants and forcing himself down her throat?

  Yancy gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet. He looked down at her and scratched at his cheek, “Your lessons are done. You’ve learned them well. It’s time to get ya prettied up, put a bit of weight back on ya and send you to market.”

  “Market?” she whispered, keeping her eyes on the floor. Looking into his eyes would only earn her a smack.

  “We’ve got to find ya a husband, girlie. We’ve gotta find ya a husband.”

  Temperance felt hope bloom in her chest. It was fragile and week but it was there just the same. A husband… surely a husband would save her from this pain, humiliation and abuse. Husbands protected their wives, didn’t they? They loved them and they cherished them and they certainly wouldn’t hurt them.

  Yes. Finding a good husband at this market was going to be Temperance’s way out of here and away from Yancy.

  Chapter Eight

  It took nearly a month from that day for Temperance’s bruises to heal and for Yancy to deem her ready for market. He had the appointment all set up and he said there would be many eligible, rich bachelors there to bid over her hand in marriage.

  Temperance’s stomach clenched as she stood naked in the mirror of the hotel with Yancy looking her body over and scrutinizing every detail. “Ya filled out good, girlie. You’ve got some of the best breasts I’ve ever seen,” he said, reaching out and tweaking one of her small pink nipples.

  Temperance winced and her lip trembled. While she should be used to such treatment by now it still shocked her every time. She had no idea why.

  Yancy pointed to the clothes that were draped over the bed. “Get dressed, girlie. It’s time to be getting to the market. They’ll be waiting.”

  With that Yancy left the room. Te
mperance knew he’d be standing just outside of it waiting on her and if she made him wait too long she’d pay for it.

  Her only hope was this market. Surely the men there would be decent--there had to be at least one man there who would take pity on her and get her away from Yancy and men like him. A man who would be kind and treat her the way a husband should.

  Quickly Temperance slid on the underclothes and thick petticoat. Next came the corset, one that laced in front so that she could tie it up herself. Temperance had never worn clothes like these before--her family had been too poor to afford such things but Yancy had taught her well how to dress for today.

  She knew that unless her breath was restricted and her ribs aching he would say that the corset was too loose. The dress came next. It was the most scandalous shade of scarlet with a neckline that dipped low and revealed the tops of her breasts. It was off her shoulders and tight on her slender arms and torso.

  Temperance stood in the mirror and looked at the woman staring back at her. It didn’t seem as if she were looking at herself. It was not the same girl who had looked back at her from a mirror six months ago. Six months ago she had been happy. Six months ago she had been innocent and wide-eyed with sisters who loved her and a mother whom she loved with all her heart. She had been filled with excitement and joy over the world and everything it held. She had been anticipating the return of the brothers and father that she had gone far too long without seeing….

  Now? Now she was a woman. A broken woman. A woman who was about to be placed on an auction block and sold to the highest bidder. It was slavery despite the claims that the war had abolished the practice. Her only hope, the only glimmer of light still lingering in the darkness, was that her next owner would be a merciful one.

  Temperance was led outside. It was dark and the air had a chill. She had no idea where they were but it was late November and winter was coming.

  She was led to a large building behind the main street of town. Yancy took her into a dark room with a single light burning beside a dais in the center. He walked her to the dais and winked, “You be good, girlie. Ya do whatever you’re told.”

  Temperance kept her gaze on the floor and wondered what he was talking about. She stood there a long time and then from the dark shadows she heard a voice. “Turn around slowly.”

  Temperance let out a yelp of shock. She had thought she was alone in here with Yancy! Gasping, she quickly recovered and spun slowly.

  “Her hair is pretty,” another man’s voice.

  “Let it down,” said another.

  Temperance struggled to peer into the darkness but could not. She could faintly see shadows of bodies sitting in chairs but she could see no details.

  “Yancy!” that third voice snapped.

  Temperance whimpered when Yancy’s hand reached to her hair and yanked the clip from the strands causing the long red waves to fall across her shoulder and down her back.

  “Take the dress off,” a man requested. Temperance didn’t know which man it was--all the voices were beginning to sound the same as her heart raced in her chest.

  “W… why?”

  “Damn it, girlie, don’t ya blow this. Take off the damn dress!” Yancy hissed in her ear and Temperance knew she had no choice. She slid from the dress and let pool around her feet.

  “Take off the rest of the clothes. I’m not buying anything until I’ve seen it all.”

  Temperance had tears running down her cheeks as she removed the rest of her clothes. The room was cold and bumps covered her flesh. She felt more violated than ever before knowing that all these men were staring at her from the darkness and appraising her as if she were a cow at auction. Surely, no good man could be among them - her hopes of a husband that would care were quickly fading.

  When Temperance attempted to hide her breasts, Yancy smacked her backside roughly which led to the room filling with raucous laughter. Temperance wanted to die. She wanted to disappear. She just wanted all of this to be over.

  “Turn around again,” a man ordered.

  Temperance did, closing her eyes tight and shaking with fear, desperation, and cold. She wondered what they would make her do next.

  “If that’s all ya need to see then how about we let the biddin’ start,” Yancy spoke up.

  “Five-hundred.”

  Yancy scoffed, “Ya couldn’t even have me for five-hundred!’

  “One thousand.”

  “One thousand-five hundred.”

  “Two thousand….”

  Back and forth the men bid. The number raised higher and higher until finally it stalled at five-thousand dollars. Temperance had never in her life even seen that much money! Who in the world would be willing pay so much to marry her?

  “I believe we have a…” Yancy began, but he was interrupted when the door flew open and another man entered the room.

  He walked straight to the dais that Temperance stood upon with an authority and power that was undeniable. She glanced at Yancy, wondering why the man was allowing such a display only to find that Yancy was grinning from ear to ear and seemed happy to see the man.

  The man was tall, over six feet. He was broad and strong in appearance. A quick fleeting glance at his face told Temperance he had narrow blue eyes, a black mustache and goatee, and a square jaw.

  He walked around her slowly. His hands ran over her body, squeezing, poking, and prodding as if testing the body of a horse he planned on buying. Finally, he took a step back. “I’ll give you ten-thousand dollars for her.”

  Temperance’s jaw dropped and Yancy rubbed his hands together with glee. “Will anyone top that?” he asked the men still shrouded in darkness. There was a murmur of denial from within the shadows. Yancy held out his hand. “You, sir, just bought yourself a wife.”

  “Good.” The man put a finger under Temperance’s chin and raised her head. “Very good.”

  She looked into those cold blue eyes and realized that she had just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. Yancy might have been evil, but something told her that she had just been purchased by the devil himself.

  Chapter Nine

  It took a full day for the paperwork to be finalized, the money to be transferred and the marriage license to be signed. Temperance had wanted to refuse, but when one had a knife against their ribs, they tended to do what they were told.

  She, and her new husband, Trevor Montgomery, then took a train for two days to his southern Georgia plantation. Temperance had never ridden on a train and while she was terrified the entire time that Trevor would hurt her, she couldn’t help, but enjoy the scenery as she sat in the compartment he had allowed her to ride in by herself.

  Trevor didn’t touch her the entire trip. She had thought he would take advantage of those lessons that Yancy and his friends had taught to her, but he didn’t. He had made it clear that death would come for her should she attempt to escape him while on this train and that she was to stay in her compartment and never leave. He had her meals brought to her and she found herself growing very bored.

  It had been a long time since she’d pulled out Robert’s journal and read the words but she found herself doing so once again to pass the lonely hours. She found that given the life she’d been living the last six months, the horrors in his journal no longer sounded so terrifying. As a matter of fact, they sounded quite tame.

  She found that she could no longer summon the childish infatuation she had had with the man. She could scarcely recall what he looked like. With a sigh, Temperance opened the small window and tossed the journal and Robert’s coat out of it followed by the doll and the hair clip that had once belonged to her sisters.

  It was better to forget about the past. She could never go back there anyway.

  Temperance had known that Trevor was a wealthy man given the vast amount of money he had paid for her but never in her wildest dreams could she have pictured a home as vast and grand as the one that she saw before her after a three-hour cart ride from the train stati
on.

  She was sitting beside Trevor in a cart as he held the reins and he noticed the way her jaw dropped when they passed through the gates. “This is my home. Montgomery Plantation has been in my family for generations. We have thirty slaves on the premises… I mean servants of course. They are paid a salary now in full compliance with the law.”

  There was a sarcasm and coldness in his voice that had Temperance shivering. Several of the servants were working in the fields they past and they appeared tired and run down. Temperance moved her gaze back to the large white home. With three stories and massive balconies and pillars, it was truly something to behold. The barns were nicer than any home Temperance had ever seen. There were stone walkways, fountains, and flowers. Everything here seemed to ooze money.

  It looked like a paradise… oh how deceiving looks could be.

  Temperance saw men, like the ones that had met her and Trevor at the train station and accompanied them here, lounging on the porch of the large manor. These men wore low-slung gun belts and wide brimmed hats. They looked dangerous with their squinting eyes and stern expressions.

  Temperance suspected they were guards of sorts, though why Trevor needed guards, she didn’t know. He was an imposing, intimidating man who demanded obedience without the help of armed thugs. There was something about the man and his presence that commanded fear and obedience without him having to say a word or become heavy handed.

  No one spoke to her as they rode closer to the house and Temperance kept her head down as Trevor led her into the grand home. Polished, gleaming floors, papered walls, crystal chandeliers and heavy dark furniture all caught her attention as she followed along behind him.