Mastered by the Hired Man

by Melissa Harlow

"Why? Why do you want me here?"

  "Why not? Wouldn't a man be a fool not to want such a lovely young lady to be a part of his life?"

  "You don't want me," Lenore said defensively. "You want my mother. She's gone Mr. Acheson, and I'm not her, and I can never be her." She shook her head and blinked back tears; Miguel hadn't wanted her either. Even if he hadn't of been fired, even if he still worked for Mr. Blevens things would have never worked out. He'd treated her like a nothing. Not really a nothing, but a slut, just what James Acheson had told her that she was. "Besides, you already said that I'm a slut. Why do you want a slut?"

  "I really didn't mean that. I apologize. Your mother was a great disappointment, to me, and I'm sure to your father as well. There was a time when I thought she was everything I ever wanted, but things changed. I want what I now have – you. Your mother was a slut, your stepmother is a slut ... there is still time for you to have a decent life. You are young, you should adapt well to my rules, and to my training." He laid down his cigar in a thick crystal ashtray.

  "Stand up."

  Her knees were shaking, and she squeezed them together tightly to stop it. "Why?"

  "I want to look at you. You're beautiful, Lenore. Are you ashamed of how you look?"

  "No ... I'm just nervous."

  His voice was suddenly as smooth as glass. "Don't be. There is no reason to be, just relax. Never be ashamed. You will find that your life here can be everything that you've ever dreamed of."

  Panic rose inside of her and the word training reverberated again and again in her mind. "Mr. Acheson, no matter what you think, I haven't ... I haven't done that very much."

  "Sex, you mean?" he said gently. "I'm actually quite pleased that you are relatively inexperienced. My tastes are often a bit ... different than what some would consider the norm. Intercourse is nice, but there's more to sex than intercourse. So much more."

  She could feel her face burning. "I know that, but ... I mean I..."

  "My dear, I am willing to promise you that I will not do that with you until you are ready – and willing. In the meantime we can just get to know one another a bit better."

  Ready and willing. Never – not with him.

  But then again, would it be worth it ... if she could stay here? Here in this beautiful house ... Maybe she could make James Acheson love her for real, not because he was in love with the ghost of a mother Lenore didn't even remember. She looked at him again. He wasn't an ugly man – in fact he was attractive, just a different kind of attractive than what she was used to. She couldn't precisely guess his age, other than he was just older. He wasn't wrinkled, but his skin was tanned and a little leathery. He had a medium build, but he was well-muscled although his hands were delicate, almost feminine, with immaculate, well-manicured nails.

  Lenore looked out the window. Lush fields surrounded by split rail fencing. Two horses ran beside a small creek, like they were playing a game of tag. It was so green here; everything seemed so alive. There was no grass at all in front of Alma's house, only dirty cement, a gray life in a dead world.

  "I've never ridden a horse," she thought out loud.

  "Really? Well, you can ride here anytime you want, my dear. I have a few horses that would be best suited for a beginner, but I have no doubt that you'd catch on quickly. Within a few months I'd imagine you'd be able to ride any horse on this farm."

  She watched the horses. One stopped to drink from the stream. With the sunset lighting the hill behind it the silhouette was more beautiful than any photograph she'd ever seen.

  "I do have one in mind for you," James said. "She could be yours exclusively."

  "One what?"

  "A horse. There's a special mare, Persimmon ... I think that you and she will be a fine match. You're both young, and a little headstrong, but both of you are beautiful and have so much potential to be something very special."

  "Mr. Acheson ... How can you just expect me to say yes? To staying, I mean. I don't know you and you don't know me. We might not get along at all."

  "Possibly. Then again, you might discover that we are a perfect fit."

  "But you can't expect me to just agree to spending the rest of my life here. What if I hate it here?"

  "What if you love it? If you don't stay, how will you ever know?" He rapped on the table by his chair. "That sound is opportunity ... knocking. Will you answer, or will you one day realize that you made the biggest mistake of your life by walking out that door?"

  If I stayed here ... I mean if I ... Could I have a flower garden?" she asked impulsively. "Roses, I love roses. Oh, and irises, I've only seen irises in books. They come in lots of different colors."

  His face softened. "Yes, they do. Roses come in many colors as well. A garden? That's such a minor thing to ask for. You can have anything you want here, Lenore. Anything. "

  "Why? You have everything here, Mr. Acheson. Why are you doing this?"

  For only a moment he looked strangely vulnerable. "I don't have everything here. I have only this house, these horses ... As much as you want a garden, be assured that my desire for you surpasses that ... my desire for you surpasses anything I have ever known, perhaps even my own common sense. I know I probably seem like some old fool to you, Lenore, but I didn't get where I am in life by being stupid. This may seem like just some sort of business arrangement to you, but that is not the way that I see it. I understand that this is not something to be taken lightly, it is a life-changing decision, but it won't change only your life, Lenore. It will change mine as well. I truly believe that it is a change that we both will benefit from."

  She couldn't answer. What was she supposed to say? She stared at him, watching his face clouding with sadness.

  He sighed and turned towards the window. "Maybe my stupidity is finally catching up with me. For most of my life I seem to have been blessed with getting whatever I want. Perhaps I have grown too accustomed to being a winner, for it looks as though where you are concerned that I have left myself open to failure and rejection..."

  He lowered his head and she suddenly felt sorry for him. In many ways he was more like her than he would have ever admitted. He was lonely, not on the outside where people could see, but deep down in his heart she could feel the ache there.

  Lenore stood and wobbled towards Mr. Acheson's chair. Standing in front of him she was motionless, except for the trembling of her legs. She swallowed hard. Maybe she really was a slut, because here she was about to trade herself for a fucking garden ... No, not just a garden, a life, a new life. Here.

  "I would like to stay, Mr. Acheson."

  He turned towards her, staring, unblinking, his eyes seeming to study her face for a long time. "Are you certain?"

  She nodded. There was no true way to be certain, but right now she was as certain as she could be. In the back of her mind she thought that Mr. Acheson seemed like a reasonable enough man that if this didn't work out he would agree to her leaving.

  A smile spread slowly across his face and he took a deep breath. "I'm happy to hear that, and I hope it's not too soon to tell you this but I feel that I must."

  Lenore waited for him to finish speaking.

  He took her hand, squeezing it tightly. "I would very much like it if you would do something for me, Lenore. I would like you to address me as Sir from now on."

  "Sir?"

  "Yes. You may call me Master James if you like that better. That's really not so bad, is it?"

  "No, Master James, it's not." It actually wasn't bad at all, in fact something about calling him either of those things sounded right.

  He beamed at her, the title obviously made him quite pleased.

  "Good. Lenore, I know this won't always be easy for you, adapting to my lifestyle, but I will do my best to be a good husband to you." He cleared his throat and became very business-like once more. "The master bedroom is yours to decorate as you see fit, there are no rooms in the house that are off-limits, except for this one, and that is only when I'm not here. The rest
of the time you may come and go as you wish. Can you drive?"

  "I don't have a license."

  "Well then, we shall have to rectify that, won't we? I was planning on getting you your own car, as a wedding gift ... as long as everything else checks out."

  "Checks out?"

  "Yes." He picked up a manila folder from the table beside his chair. "I have copies of your medical records, it doesn't seem that you've had any major illnesses or problems. Were you sick without care much? Did Alma not take you to the doctors?"

  "No, Sir. I mean I haven't been sick much at all. I had the chicken pox a long time ago, other than that, just the usual."

  He flipped a paper in the folder. "Birth control?"

  Lenore felt her face warm. That had been Alma's doing. "Yes."

  "You see Dr. Morganthal?" He glanced down at the paper. "Last appointment was back in January. Everything seems to be in order, however, Dr. Larson has been so kind as to consent to a house call this evening to give you a quick exam."

  "I don't know a Dr. Larson ... what kind of exam?"

  The doorbell chimed loudly.

  "That must be him. Not to worry dear, I have a room downstairs all set up for this. Let me see him in and then I'll take you there."

  Several minutes later Lenore was led down the steps to a bright little room with a stainless steel table. James Acheson handed her a blue paper sheet, just like the kind from the real doctor's. He gave her instructions to disrobe, and left the room.

  Were it not for the knowledge in her own head, Lenore would swear she was in a physician's office downtown. She sat down on the table after she'd finished undressing and covered herself with the paper sheet. Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to get her mind around just what exactly was going on here.

  James Acheson came in, with a tall woman by his side, a glaring reminder that this wasn't the real doctor's. Lenore stared at the woman in disbelief. No fucking way this woman was a nurse. She looked more like she belonged hanging off of a stripper pole than in a white nurse's uniform, not that she was wearing one, because she didn't have a stitch of clothing on. Her nipples were pierced, and between her two enormous breasts hung a shiny gold chain.

  "Hi, Lenore," the woman said. "My, aren't you gorgeous!"

  "She's a bit uncomfortable," James said with a smile. "I don't think she quite understands what is happening yet, so she's nervous..."

  The woman turned and looked at Lenore. "No big deal, sweetie. You will be examined by Doctor Larson. It won't take long and if you relax I'm sure you will find it will be over before you know it."

  "What the fuck is this?" Lenore cursed.

  "I'm Denali, by the way," the woman said to her, ignoring the question. She unceremoniously took the paper drape off of Lenore leaving her naked and shivering on the table.

  "James, I might need your help getting her prepped," Denali said. I don't know how cooperative she is going to be at first." Denali took a syringe from a stainless steel cabinet. "We can sedate her a bit, but Dr. Larson insists that she be awake and fairly coherent. It's difficult to measure response from an unconscious participant."

  James' face was grim and sober. "I expect that Lenore will cooperate fully with the exam, won't you Lenore? It's just a formality, and it really won't take long at all."

  "But what..." Lenore stammered.

  Denali smiled. "James, you're such a caring man. You really like her, don't you? She's too mouthy for you. Such a dear heart you have, but you're always falling for the wrong ones, it will be a lot of work turning this one into a lady."

  Denali picked Lenore's arm up. "This exam won't hurt at all, Lenore." Denali smiled, her face flushed pink, and her voice lowered to a whisper. "Trust me, Dr. Larson is quite talented at what he does."

  Lenore felt the jab of a needle in her arm and within minutes she was drooling and the room felt like it was spinning. As James and Denali positioned her for the examination, Lenore decided that this really must be some kind of weird dream. She was scooted to the edge of the table and Denali placed a big foam wedge behind her so that she could not move back. Her bare feet were placed in cold metal stirrups and leather cuffs held her ankles firmly in place. Thankfully, Denali draped the paper sheet over Lenore's obscenely spread legs, and then she proceeded to secure Lenore's arms down tightly to the table with leather straps.

  Lenore heard the door of the room open and a tall blonde man wearing a white jacket stood over her.

  "You must be Lenore, he said cheerfully. "I'm Dr. Larson." He glanced over at Mr. Acheson. "You may want to leave for a few minutes, James."

  "Why? I was the one who requested this."

  "Oh, I know, Sir, but she needs to be examined. I don't know if she would be comfortable with you in the room. Believe me, I do my best to provide my patients with the utmost in comfort and consideration."

  James started to turn towards the door and Lenore took a deep gulp of air. She didn't believe the man in the white jacket was a doctor. He didn't seem at all surprised to see the naked Denali, and she'd never heard of being restrained for an exam. None of this seemed right.

  "Please. Don't make him go," she said. "What are you doing to me? James ... Sir, please, don't let them do this! Please? What is this? Let me go!"

  Dr. Larson stroked her hair. "Shhh, you're making quite a fuss over nothing, my dear. We have to make sure you are nice and clean and everything is as it should be. Once you are examined you can spend some alone time with James in your pretty new room, would you like that?"

  He was talking to her like she was a child!

  "No, I wouldn't like that. What I would like to know exactly what the fuck is going on here!" Her words were slurred now from the injection, and no one seemed to be listening to her anyway. "What the fuck is this?"

  Denali clicked her tongue. "Filthy mouth you've got there."

  "Fuck you, you bitch!" Lenore spat.

  Denali leaned over her, until Lenore felt the cold touch of Denali's gold chain against her side. "James, please, go in the other room. Give us some privacy for a few minutes."

  James smiled and gazed longingly at Lenore for a moment and then left the room.

  Denali gently pushed Lenore's hair back from her face. "Honey, you're such a beautiful young lady, why must you use such ugly words?" Lenore stared blankly up at Denali's demure face. She heard the snap of rubber gloves and turned her head to see Dr. Larson pulling a pale green glove onto his hand.

  "What the fu ... what are you going to do to me?" Lenore whimpered.

  "We have to examine you, honey," Denali said soothingly.

  "Examine me – why?"

  "Well, first of all for the obvious reasons," Dr. Larson said. "Lesions, warts, signs of disease..." He flipped the paper drape up and his gloved fingers entered her abruptly.

  Lenore thrashed on the table, pushing back against the foam wedge.

  "It's okay," Denali cooed. "Relax, and let him in, his fingers are delightful." Her face turned serious. "I wish you could feel them without his gloves. He has the softest hands." Lenore watched Denali's eyes settle on Dr. Larson's hand. "Oh, God, yes! You're so tight around his fingers," Denali sighed.

  "Have you ever had an STD?" Dr. Larson asked, seeming not to notice the odd behavior.

  "No, I..."

  "Good, no chance of pregnancy?"

  Lenore shook her head as his fingers slid deeper inside of her, gently spreading the walls of her vagina open. With his other hand he pushed down hard on her belly and she winced.

  "No children or previous pregnancies?"

  "No, I don't understand why you..."

  "Okay, now here's the tough part, Lenore," he said. She stared in horror at the speculum. Slowly, he started to push the cold instrument inside of her in. Lenore writhed and whimpered in pain.

  "Just breathe, nice deep breaths," he said quietly. "You're doing fine." He positioned the speculum all the way inside of her and started to open it. Each click of the wings spreading seemed to echo in the
tiny room.

  "Ow, stop! Please, don't..."

  "You're fine, don't worry," he said in a soothing voice.

  "Can you take it out now?" Lenore pleaded, taking deep breaths, trying not to panic.

  "Almost," he replied. "Just a little pap smear to make sure you're nice and healthy." He reached up to the bright lamp and pulled it over beside him. She could feel the warmth of the light as he shined it inside of her.

  "It's okay, we'll be done soon." He took a small plastic brush and she felt a scraping sensation inside of her. Lenore whimpered from the painful combination of the speculum and the plastic brush swabbing at her insides.

  "Okay..." he said, placing the brush into a plastic cup. He picked up what looked like long Q-tips. "Just a couple more seconds..."

  "Fuck! It hurts!"

  Denali shushed her.

  "Good job!" he said, as he set the cotton swabs on a tray. He slowly began to withdraw the speculum from her vagina and Lenore gave a sigh of relief. The relief was short-lived as his finger entered her anus, prodding and poking.

  Lenore bit her lip, praying this humiliation was nearly over.

  "You've done wonderfully," Dr. Larson said, withdrawing his finger and pulling off his gloves. "Now that whole unpleasantness is out of the way, we'll move on to the final stages of the examination."

  Lenore watched nervously as he donned a clean pair of gloves.

  Without warning, two of his enormous, gloved fingers forced their way inside of her vagina. Lenore moaned and squirmed in her stirrups. Dr. Larson forced them all the way in, opening her up even more than even the speculum had. Lenore whined as the doctor moved his fingers around, palpitating her from the inside.

  "Good. Well, everything seems fine, quite normal." She watched his eyes focus between her thighs.

  "That's a pretty little clit you have," he mused as he began to wiggle his fingers inside of her. "Very pink."

  "It is," Denali agreed, pulling on her own pair of green latex gloves, she peeled the skin back from Lenore's clit exposing it as Dr. Larson bent down a bit further for a closer look. His fingers inside of her began to pull out, and then he thrust them back in.