Against Her Will

by Nicole Sturgill

  Trevor laughed at her shaky admission. “Of course there will. You are my wife and I will have you when I see fit.”

  He stepped toward her and Temperance brandished the silver fork as if it were a sword. “Stay back!” she warned.

  She wasn’t sure what she had expected his initial reaction to her threat would be, she had thought maybe he would laugh at her feeble attempts to protect herself. The rage that contorted his features was certainly not what she had been waiting for.

  His blue eyes hardened with temper, his thin lips pulled back in a snarl and he took a step forward. “You ignorant bitch! You would dare threaten me? No one threatens me!”

  Trevor lunged forward and Temperance screamed before swinging the fork. She felt it scrape across his flesh and realized with shock that she had slit his cheek wide open. Blood poured from the ripped flesh and his enraged bellow bounced off the walls. The fork fell to the carpeted floor and Temperance stumbled backward when Trevor leapt forward.

  His hand closed around her throat and squeezed. Temperance panicked. She couldn’t breathe! She swung her fists as hard as she could manage, but if Trevor felt the blows to his broad frame he gave no indication.

  His other fist came down hard upon Temperance’s face and pain blacked her vision as her lungs began to burn from the lack or air.

  “No one strikes me!” Trevor hissed his face mere inches from hers as he gave her a little shake. “No one!”

  Temperance gasped in lung full after lung full of painful breaths when Trevor released his hold on her throat. His fist closed in her hair and she found herself being dragged toward the door.

  Trying to yank away from him only led to her hair being ripped from her head with a bloody tear and he readjusted his hold. Temperance sobbed and wondered what was going to become of her as Trevor dragged her out of the room and down the hall.

  As they started down the staircase to the first floor, Temperance lost her footing and Trevor shoved her hard, releasing his hold on her hair and allowing her to tumble down the hard tile.

  Temperance’s battered body landed in a heap at the bottom and she curled herself into a ball. There was not an inch of her body that didn’t hurt. Her head swam but she had no time to adjust to the discomfort before her hair was grabbed again and she found herself being dragged across the floor.

  Temperance screamed and cried out for help when she saw several servants watching. They appeared upset and sad for her, but none made a move to help.

  When she was pulled out the door, the guards, who had heard the commotion and came running from their barracks beside the house, laughed uproariously.

  “Teach that bitch the way a wife should act, boss,” one of them cackled.

  “Damn, what did she to your face?” another demanded.

  Temperance wished someone would help her. Why would so many allow this? Surely, among all the men Trevor had as his guards, eleven in total, there had to be one that was decent!

  Her hopes of that were soon drenched as Trevor barked orders for chains and several men rushed off to do as he bid while the others laughed.

  Temperance was dragged to a tree beside the barn. Trevor released his hold on her and she collapsed to the ground, her abused body unable to do anything more than that.

  She felt her clothes being ripped from her body, but could not fight it and she could not scream. Her throat was raw and hurting, and her voice had left her.

  When she felt Trevor’s cock ram inside of her torn womanhood a tear squeezed from the corner of her closed eyes. She could hear laughter as the other men watched on. She felt dirty, cheap, exposed, and humiliated. Temperance wanted to die.

  Trevor grunted and shivered, and Temperance felt something warm spill inside of her. Fear filled her then. She knew how children were made. She did not want the spawn of Satan himself growing inside her womb.

  Trevor stood and Temperance was faintly aware of him pulling his pants back on. He jerked her up by her hair so she was sitting and then shoved her roughly against the tree. Heavy cold chains wrapped around her bare middle, the cool metal was pulled tight she heard a lock engage.

  “A few days out here should calm you down,” Trevor hissed in her ear.

  Temperance watched him go. The other men slowly made their way back to their barracks and Temperance found herself alone in the darkness. She pulled her knees into her chest and shivered.

  She stared at her dirty knees and reached back a hand to touch the bloody place on the back of her head where Trevor had ripped out a chunk of her red hair. Her hand dropped to the ground and Temperance felt her mind once against shutting down. Her body ached, her throat burned, her head was sore and her abused womanhood was raw and swollen.

  She had no idea how long she sat there and she didn’t realize she was shivering until she felt a stiff, itchy blanket being draped over her. Temperance’s gaze flew up and she saw a man, a servant of her husband’s, staring down at her with sympathy. He was an older man with wrinkles cut into his black skin and gray wiry hair upon his head.

  “You are strong. You are full of fire like your hair suggests,” he whispered.

  Temperance did not feel strong. She felt weak and broken. She didn’t respond to the man, simply pulled the blanket tighter. He gave her a toothless smile that was full of sadness. “Master is a monster, child. I’ve been here since his father ran the plantation and Master comes by his evilness naturally.”

  “Is there no decency among any of the men here who aren’t slaves?” Temperance demanded quietly.

  “No,” came the simple and immediate reply. “Not any longer. There once was. Trevor’s brother, Tanner. He was a good man. A fair man. He was older than Trevor and so this plantation fell in his hands a while. Even though we were seen as property by the rest of this country, Tanner didn’t treat us that way. No chains, no whips, and no beatings. We only worked ten hours a day and he worked right beside us. We were given three good meals a day and medical care. He was even ensuring that we were all taught to read and write…”

  “Where is he now?” Temperance whispered, knowing that Tanner could be her ticket out of this hell.

  A thin shoulder raised in the moonlight. “Dead is my best guess. He went off to fight the war.”

  “To free you?” Temperance questioned.

  “No. Trevor is a man who gets inside a person’s head and commands their obedience. While Tanner was fair with us and a good, strong man, he was weak when it came to his younger brother. Trevor would beat Tanner down just the way he does everyone else and Trevor convinced Tanner to go fight for the south and protect the plantation. Tanner went. He hasn’t been seen since and I don’t reckon he’s been heard from either. The war ended over seven months ago so we all figure he’s a dead man.”

  “Why do you stay?” Temperance demanded. “You are freed people now. Why don’t you leave?”

  “And go where?” the man asked ruefully as he crouched down beside her. “Trevor is a rich and powerful man. You can’t get away from those. The law is in his pocket and he has the means to hire those to hunt us down, his eleven men here would be happy to do just that. If we try to leave and are caught, we are as good as dead. The government might have signed papers telling us we’re free, but those papers don’t mean much out here.”

  The man’s head whipped around when someone coughed in the barracks. He swallowed hard. “Now child, my name is Felix. I’ll do what I can to help you, but there’s not much can be done. You just have to use that strength that’s inside and try not to let him destroy you.”

  With that, Felix stood with a popping of his old knees and he ambled off toward the slave quarters, which were several dilapidated very overcrowded cabins hidden behind the fancy barns.

  Temperance laid her head upon her knees and sobbed.

  Chapter Twelve

  The morning dawned brightly and Temperance hoped she’d be freed from this tree. She was hurting and needed a hot bath to help soak away her aches and pains.

&
nbsp; She felt dread wash over her when the door to the manor opened and Trevor stepped out onto the porch. He had a white bandage across his cheek and a smirk on his face as his gaze fell on her.

  That smirk was quickly replaced by a frown as he strode her way. Temperance tried to scoot away, but her body was stiff and the chains held her in place. Trevor jerked the blanket from her with a growl and shook it in the air. “Who gave you this?” he demanded.

  Temperance didn’t speak. She was not going to give up the name of one of the two people who had shown her kindness in over half a year. Trevor threw the blanket onto the dirt and undid his pants. Temperance curled her nose when he let out a stream of urine all over the stiff fabric and then, after refastening his pants, he threw the blanket back over her and the foul smell turned Temperance’s stomach.

  “Carson!?” Trevor barked and one of his guards ran over.

  “Yes boss?”

  “I need the slaves brought out and lined up now.”

  Carson nodded and jogged toward the slave quarters. Temperance was shaking violently as the slaves were brought up from the fields, slave quarters and house and lined up in front of her.

  Wilma was there with sympathy in her brown eyes and she saw Felix standing with his head down as well.

  “Now, I need to know which of you gave my wife a blanket,” Trevor said as he slowly walked in front of them. Men, women, and children all stood staring at the ground and not one of them answered.

  Trevor sighed and grabbed a young girl by the hair. He jerked her toward him and pulled a knife from his side, pressing the small blade against her throat. “Does this girl truly need to die, dear wife, or will you tell me who gave you that blanket?”

  Temperance’s heart cried out with the unfairness. The young girl met her gaze and Temperance began to sob. She held out her hand and pointed one trembling finger at Felix. “Him… I’m so sorry, Felix…”

  “You dare speak another man’s name?!” Trevor threw the young girl back into line and kicked Temperance’s legs roughly. “You are not to speak to any man who is not me, do you understand?”

  “Yes…”

  “You will refer to me as master!” Trevor ordered.

  Temperance swallowed hard and nodded quickly. “Yes, Master.”

  Trevor turned back to the slaves and pointed toward Felix. “Tie him to the post.”

  Two of the guards grabbed Felix’s arms as the old man kept a gentle smile on his face as he gazed at Temperance. “Don’t you feel bad, child. You had no choice.”

  Trevor’s fist slammed into the old man’s gut and he doubled over. “Don’t speak to my wife,” Trevor warned.

  Temperance watched in horror as Felix was led to a hitching post just outside the barn a mere hundred yards from where she sat. His shirt was pulled from him and his arms were wrapped around the post and tied tightly.

  Trevor stepped into the barn and emerged moments later with a whip. The other slaves had already fled, returning to their jobs before they too incurred their master’s wrath.

  Temperance saw that whip and knew what was going to happen. She screamed out for Trevor to stop, for the man to have mercy, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

  Temperance sobbed as the whip fell sharply upon Felix’s thin back, laying open the flesh and allowing blood to pour down his dark skin. Felix yelled with pain repeatedly as Trevor put mark after mark upon him. Then, as if he’d done nothing at all, Trevor tossed the whip aside and strode back to the house.

  Temperance curled up beneath her pee scented blanket and sobbed into her knees. It was her fault that Felix had just been whipped! She had told Trevor the truth to save a child and that had led to the old man who had been so kind to be whipped right in front of her eyes.

  Trevor had just made several things clear to her.

  Speaking to other men would lead to beatings and helping those he was punishing would lead to beatings. Trevor was a man capable of doing anything and everything to get his way and Temperance knew that in order to survive here she was going to have to adapt to his rules.

  She simply wasn’t brave enough to continue fighting against him. She wasn’t brave enough to die.

  ***

  Days became weeks, weeks became months, and fall turned to winter, which led to spring.

  The plantation was buzzing with activity as the planting season began.

  Temperance worked with the slaves. Her life had changed drastically since that day she’d been chained to a tree. Trevor had left her there for three days and then he had taken her to the slave quarters and told her she would live there. He no longer wanted her in his home because she had been tainted by her affection for the Negros, as he called them. She was no better than they were in his eyes and did not deserve nice clothes, a solid roof, or a soft bed.

  Temperance wore dresses made of burlap sacks, slept on a cot filled with holes and only received one meal a day, just the same as the rest of Trevor’s slaves, or servants as he mockingly referred to all of them.

  The only difference made was that Trevor still continued to rape her and refer to her as his wife. Temperance never knew exactly when he would come. Sometimes it was while she slept, something while she worked in the kitchen, and still others while she was out in the fields.

  He took her with no regard as to who was around and watching. He would bite her roughly and leave her bruised and battered before riding away again with a smile on his devil face.

  Temperance had grown accustomed to the abuse and it no longer left her unable to function. She would simply get up, fix her clothes, and get back to work with the eyes of all the slaves around looking on with sympathy.

  One year had passed since Temperance had been taken from her cabin. She could not remember the girl she had once been. She couldn’t remember what her mother or sisters had looked like. She couldn’t remember the sounds of their voices or anything about that time.

  Pain, rape, abuse, work, fatigue, aches, and day-to-day struggles to survive without being whipped or killed on a whim of Trevor’s, had become her norm.

  She and the other slaves who had been in the fields all day were on their way back to their quarters to eat their meager supper when a commotion rose up from the manor house.

  “There’s someone riding in!”

  Temperance watched as the guards ran to the gate with their guns drawn. Then they put their weapons away and opened the gate slowly.

  “Who is it?” Trevor demanded from the porch.

  A horse rode in and Temperance’s gaze went to the man seated upon it. He was wearing the gray uniform of the Confederacy. His clothes were tattered, torn, and stained terribly. His long dark blond hair was matted and hung well past his shoulders. Sunken cheeks and bony hands gave evidence to a long period of not enough food and his skin was dirty and pale. He was slumped over the horse’s neck and seemed barely conscious.

  She heard a murmur pick up among the slaves around her and she wondered who this man was… Could it be the brother that she had heard so much about since she’d begun living with the slaves?

  “Holy hell…” Trevor mumbled as he walked forward. “Tanner, is that you?”

  Tanner’s head rose just a bit as his eyes locked on his brother. He nodded slowly. “Yeah, it’s me…”

  Temperance felt hope bloom and then quickly die when Tanner’s frail body tumbled from the saddle and landed in an unmoving heap upon the ground.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Temperance was grabbed roughly by the arm and forced away from her supper when Trevor dragged her out of the slave quarters an hour later. The plantation had been a buzz with talk about Tanner, who had finally returned.

  Temperance didn’t share in their excitement over his arrival. Tanner was clearly a weak man. He might even be dead inside that house already. She couldn’t see how he would be any help to her or any help in ending Trevor’s reign of terror over this plantation.

  As Trevor dragged Temperance out into the growing darkness, she was confuse
d as to his reasons. Usually Trevor simply took her wherever he found her, he didn’t generally bother with moving her anywhere else.

  When they approached the house her confusion grew, but she knew better than to speak. She was led up to the second floor and to a bedroom. Tanner lay in the bed still seemingly unconscious with a blanket pulled up to his chin.

  “You’ll stay in here with him. You’ll sleep on the floor. He is obviously very sick and needs care. I am too busy to do it myself so the duty falls on my wife.” Trevor’s grip on her arm tightened and she whimpered with the pain. “I don’t need to remind you about my rules, do I?”

  “No, Master,” Temperance assured him.

  “His meals and his care are up to you to see to. This is my brother and I want to see him make a full recovery.”

  Temperance nodded. She knew that what he wasn’t saying was that he would see her punished if Tanner did not make that recovery. Trevor left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Temperance alone with the unconscious man.

  Trevor was a puzzle and one that Temperance simply did not understand. He was a powerful man, a man who loved to control those around him and yet he had bought himself a wife and then instead of showing that wife off he had turned her into a slave. She wondered if those in society knew he was married or if he had simply wanted one more person he could control, one more person he could show his power to.

  If that was the case then he had succeeded. Temperance was at his mercy and she knew that. Her every breath was only drawn because Trevor allowed it, he could kill her at any time and have to answer to no one.

  Temperance walked to the bed and stared down at the man lying in it. She wondered what color his eyes were and whether they would hold the same evil cold that Trevor’s held. According to the other workers here, Tanner had been the opposite of Trevor, but Temperance had learned that most men, or at least most that she had met in the last year--were evil deep down.

  He was skinny, dirty, and he stunk terribly. Temperance laid her wrist against his brow, but felt no fever. He simply seemed exhausted and more than half-starved.