I waited in my night rail in Horace's room as he and the boys attended the nightly business of locking in the pigs, oxen, horses, and chickens and making sure everything was put away. My mind kept returning to what I saw that afternoon.
I was still innocent, no matter that I was expected to whore myself to my mother's husband and his sons. I doubted, even with the curling, pleasurable heat that swirled up my limbs at the thought of that blissful look on Horace's face as he manipulated himself that I could achieve even a little bit of pleasure. I was a woman, yes, I was of age to marry, but it was sinful for a woman to like her wifely duties. If those duties weren't done in the sanctity of marriage, that made the woman a whore. That's what Ma had told me.
"Ma was a liar." There! I said it out loud. She had run off with a traveling salesman and left me to do things with her man in her place. I didn't doubt one whit that what Horace had told me wasn't true. Ma had left, knowing that I would have to pay my way.
"She was that, gal." Horace said from the doorway. He had made an effort to wash, I could tell from the damp at his collar and his shiny face. He had left the curtain open and I saw the boys behind him, both watching me avidly, even though my nightgown covered more than my day clothes did.
Ruben ran a hand down the length of his member over his trousers. I could feel my face heat as he mouthed, "Tomorrow."
Josh just smirked. I suppose they all had it worked out, my whoring schedule. First I'd service Horace, then the eldest, Ruben, then Josh. My face heated at the thought of what they would be thinking as their father took my maidenhead that night. I wondered what they would think of me when they each took me the subsequent nights and beyond.
I didn't have any illusions. Soiled doves weren't valued. They were used and discarded.
Horace looked over his shoulder and barked, "Get to bed, both of you! Yer sister's nervous enough."
He closed the curtain to the room and I shuffled my feet, heart racing, poised to run. He sat on the bed and started fussing with his wooden shirt buttons. I backed against the rough, pine-plank wall, watching as he slid his suspenders down. His shirt lay open, exposing a sun-burnished patch of skin and a smattering of light hair. He leaned to take off his boots, grunting with the effort, and immediately the sound made me remember when the liquid shot out of him. I knew it was the stuff that made babies, the boys had told me when they caught me watching the pigs, but I didn't know what it was called.
Once Horace was done, he stood and removed his shirt. He looked at me, hard a hungry. "Climb onto the bed girl. You can't do your duty from over there."
I skirted around him, aware that the lantern now threw my bare legs into relief under the single layer of muslin that made up my nightclothes. I climbed under the blanket and pulled it up to my chin. He ordered, "Take off that damned nightgown."
I did, drawing the blanket up over my head so that he couldn't see the flush staining my cheeks. When I heard him blow out the lamp, I peeked out. He was standing there outlined in moonlight, his member jutting from his body proudly. He sighed and then eased under the covers himself. "Yer ma said you was untouched. Is that true?"
He shifted so that he was leaning over me, not close enough to touch me, but I could feel the heat of his body.
"I-i... please, don't do this. I'll do anything...," I babbled before he closed the gap between us. His lips met mine, silencing me. I waited for the violence he had shown me before when he kissed me, but this one was different than before, less overpowering and angry.
