Little Black Girl Lost 4 (12 page)

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Authors: Keith Lee Johnson

BOOK: Little Black Girl Lost 4
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Chapter 35
“Find one that pleases you and get in it . . . now!”
S
urprised to see a woman, he covered himself with a white sheet and said, “Where is Monsieur Bouvier, Aubrey?” The eighteen-year-old looked as effeminate as he sounded: soft soprano voice, slender physique, high cheekbones, clean-shaven.
Aubrey said, “Monsieur Bouvier will be here shortly, Louis. He told me to bring her here.”
Louis laughed loud and hard before saying, “He told you to bring her here? Here? You can
not
be serious. For what reason, Aubrey?”
He examined her, looking at her from head to toe, trying to think of a cutting remark to wound her. “Well ... she certainly is pretty, isn't she? But who, pray tell, is this strumpet?”
Aubrey narrowed his eyes. He spoke with much erudition and sophistication when he said, “Why, oh why must you be so rude, Louis? There's no reason for it, seeing that she arrived only minutes ago. Her name is Lauren Renee Bouvier, if you must know—not that it's any of
your
business. And his reasons are his own, dear boy. Now . . . I think you should leave. Run along.”
Louis laughed again. “And go
where?”
Exasperated, Aubrey said, “It's a big house and it has many rooms. Find one that pleases you and get in it . . . now!”
Louis rolled his eyes. “Hmpf. I'll find another room when I hear it from Beaumont himself. Not a second before.”
Lauren stood there quietly trying to figure out what was going on. She had no idea that Louis was Monsieur Bouvier's lover. In fact, all the housemen were, including Aubrey. They were to come to him at his beck and call, day or night, and fulfill whatever delicious acts he wished on a moment's notice.
“Louis.” Beaumont's voice called out from the hallway, attempting to hide his displeasure with him. “Come out here, please.”
Louis frowned, as he was stunned when he learned that Beaumont was in the hallway listening. He smiled victoriously and sang, “Coming.” He stood up with a sheet wrapped around him, and walked up to Lauren with his nose in the air. Then he walked around her, sniffing her hind parts.
They were about the same height, nearly six feet tall. He stood almost nose to nose with her, staring unflinchingly into her deep-set eyes. He curled his lips, and then he bent down and sniffed her vagina. He stood erect again, took two steps back, and looked her in the eyes again.
Smiling girlishly, he said, “Oh, no. That . . .”—He pointed below her waist—“will never do.” Then he laughed heartily and walked toward the door. He looked over his shoulder to see how much damage he had done and then walked out of the room, leaving the door open so Aubrey and Lauren could hear Beaumont back him up.
“Close the door,” Beaumont said tactfully, showing no anger.
Louis closed the door.
Seconds after the door was shut, they could hear them talking, angrily going back and forth, but they couldn't make out what they were saying. Without warning, a thunderous slap echoed in the massive hallway and could be heard in the bedroom, where Aubrey and Lauren were waiting patiently and listening attentively. After the loud slap, they heard Louis give off a high-pitched scream, like a woman being beaten by her husband. Both of them laughed raucously, covering their mouths. Then they heard bare feet running down the hall.
The door opened and Beaumont entered the bedroom. With sincere concern, Beaumont said, “I think I hurt Louis' feelings, Aubrey. Could you check on him and make sure he's okay? He's such a Molly sometimes. I swear.”
Then Lauren understood that Beaumont was a homosexual. She remembered what Captain Rutgers had said before they left the slave auction. He had told her she would be all right with Beaumont. She smiled broadly, knowing she wouldn't be raped. It was going to be easier than she thought, being the only woman in the house and not having to have sex with the man who owned the rights to her body.
“Right away, Monsieur Bouvier,” Aubrey said and left them alone.
Beaumont looked at his newly acquired beauty and said, “So, have you decided on a name yet?”
She nodded sweetly and said, “Yes, I have.”
“Splendid,” he said with unrestrained excitement. “What shall we call you?”
“I like Lauren Renee. Aubrey helped me pick it out. He says it has a ring to it. What do you think, Monsieur Bouvier?”
“What a truly excellent choice, my dear girl. Excellent indeed. That is what you shall be called from this day forward. Now . . . Lauren . . . would you be so kind as to remove your clothing?”
Chapter 36
“I will not allow you to defile and pollute me.”
L
auren took a couple steps backward and said, “Remove my clothing? I most certainly will not remove my clothing. Not for you I won't.”
With little to no emotion he said, “Yes. If I am to deflower you, it would be better if you were nude.” He took a few steps forward and added to his cavalier request. “Now . . . would you like me to help you undress?”
“But I thought you liked men. That's why Louis was here, yes?”
“Yes, but I have invested considerable capital in you; mostly to keep you from my brother-in-law. I don't see anything wrong with at least sampling you before anyone else. Who knows?” He was laughing now. “I might get to like it again and have a few pickaninnies with you.”
Lauren frowned. She couldn't believe this was happening. Just when she thought she had gotten a respite from lewd men, he was going to rape her, even though he preferred men. He was such a small man, thin, and couldn't have weighed more than a hundred and fifty pounds; she did not fear him, as she was so much taller. As a matter of fact, she thought she could not only defend herself, but that she could whip him if necessary.
She looked in his eyes and said, “No, Monsieur Bouvier. I will not take my clothes off. I will not allow you to defile and pollute me.”
Laughing, Beaumont said, “No? Dear girl, don't you know that I am your master now? You cannot refuse me. It is your duty to please me in any way I choose. You have no say in the matter. Come now, let me help you undress.”
He reached out to touch her, and she snatched away.
“Mmmm. This is going to be so much fun.”
“No.”
“I see. You're going to make this difficult. Fine. Have it your way.”
He turned around and went to the door and locked it. Then he turned back to Lauren. He smiled and said, “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. It's up to you.”
Determined to subdue her, he fast-walked over to where she was standing and reached out to unbutton her blouse. She slapped his hand.
“Oooh,” he said, rubbing his stinging fingers. “It hurts so good.”
Her resistance turned him on. He reached out again. And again she slapped his hand. Now he was fully aroused, and she could see that he was.
He went at her again, grabbing her, ripping the sleeve of her dress, one that Amir's mother had made especially for her. When she slapped his face, he stopped suddenly, not expecting it. He rubbed his reddening face and went after her again. This time, she backhanded him on the other side of his face. He was stunned again, but undeterred. He went at her again, grabbing her and throwing her on the bed. They wrestled wildly, each of them trying to get the advantage over the other.
“By God, you are my property, girl!” Beaumont grunted as they struggled on the bed. “And I shall have you!”
“I said no and I mean no,” Lauren said as they rolled off the bed and onto the floor.
On top of him now, she slapped his face repeatedly, saying, “Don't make me do this, Monsieur Bouvier. I'll do whatever you say, but not this.”
She stopped hitting him and pleaded, “Now, I will let you up if you promise not to touch me in that manner.”
In a subdued voice, Beaumont said, “I promise.”
She let him up, and he came at her again. Both of them were sweating and grunting again, using whatever means available to conquer each other.
Lauren managed to get Beaumont in a headlock. She held his head in place while she punched him over and over again in his face.
Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing!
“You just don't learn, do you?”
Bing! Bing!
“I said no, and that's what I mean.”
Bing! Bing! Bing!
“Now . . . if I let you go, will you stop?”
Breathing heavily and smarting from the repeated blows, he said, “Yes.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, I promise. Now let me go, girl!”
“That's what you said last time.” Bing! Bing!
Bing!
“I'll just make sure.”
Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing!
“Now . . . when I let you go, you're going to stop this, right?”
“Right!”
“Do you swear?”
“I swear. Now let me go!”
She let him go and he came at her again. This time, she balled up her fist and pounded him on the crown of his head as he came at her. His eyes crossed and he fell to the floor. He was out cold.
There was a knock at the door. “Is everything all right in there?” Aubrey asked.
Breathing heavily, Lauren said, “Yes. Everything is all right.”
“I have your meal. Shall I bring it in?”
“No. Just leave it out there and I'll get it later. I'm not decent.”
There was a long pause.
“Is everything all right, Monsieur Bouvier?”
“Uh, he's sleeping right now, Aubrey. Can you come back later?”
“Sleeping?” He pounded on the door. “Monsieur Bouvier, are you all right?”
“Aubrey, he's asleep. He asked not to be disturbed.”
He pounded on the door again. “Open the door this instant. Do you hear me?”
Beaumont opened his eyes and realized that he had been knocked out by a woman. He was thoroughly embarrassed. When he gained his focus, he said, “Aubrey, go away! And do not return until I call for you!”
“Yes, Monsieur Bouvier. I just wanted to make sure you were all right! The girl's dinner—”
“Go
away,
Aubrey!”
They heard heels clicking away from the door.
Beaumont looked at Lauren and smiled. He stood up and looked at her like he was ready to try again.
She said, “Come on, then. I'm ready for you. We can do this all night, but I said no, and that's what I mean. When I get finished whipping you again, I promise I'll do whatever you say. But if we have to fight all night, I'm ready.”
He said, “Oh, all right. I just wanted to give it a try. But you better not tell anyone about this, or I'll sell you to a planter who won't be nearly as gracious as I. He'll take a whip to you and carve up your back. And I promise you, you will not look as pretty as you do now. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Okay, then.” Still looking at her, he shouted, “Aubrey! ”
Silence.
“Aubrey!” he shouted again. “I know you're there. You cannot help yourself. It's who you are, dear boy. Answer me!”
“Yes, Monsieur Bouvier.”
Beaumont, still looking at Lauren, said, “Do you mind opening the door?”
“How do I know you're not going to try something if I turn my back on you?”
Laughing, he said, “You've got a point. Walk backward if you must, but do open it for Aubrey.”
Lauren kept her eyes on Beaumont as she cautiously walked over to the door. She unlocked and opened it. Aubrey came in.
“I understand that you helped Lauren here choose her name.”
With deference, Aubrey said, “Yes, sir. Shall I help her choose another? One that you think would better suit her?”
“No. We both like the name. I want you to show her around the house and the grounds. Give her a tour and let her decide what kind of work she wants to do for us.”
“Yes, sir.” He looked at Lauren. “Right this way.”
Still looking over her shoulder, watching Beaumont to make sure he didn't come after her on the way out, she walked through the open door and into the hallway.
“Oh, and Aubrey,” Beaumont said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell Louis I need him now.”
“Right away, Monsieur Bouvier.”
“And tell him not to bother dressing. I'll take him as he was when I last saw him.”
Chapter 37
“You frail little tart!”
“S
ince we're already in the house, I'll show you where everything is. Then later, I'll show you the grounds and we'll meet a few people along the way,” Aubrey said, smiling as they walked down the hall. “Unless, of course, you prefer to start outside. It's up to you.”
Lauren forced herself to smile. She saw being shown the house and the grounds by Aubrey—who, she had already decided, was a sycophant—as a way to get close to him. She sensed he was just like Louis and Beaumont; otherwise, he would have a certain look in his eyes when he looked at her. He didn't have it. So far in her young life, no heterosexual man could deny himself the pleasure of at least gazing at her when they thought she was unaware. The men on Bouvier Hill didn't look at her at all, let alone wantonly.
She wrapped her left arm around his, looked into his eyes, offered him her disarming smile, and sweetly said, “You decide, Aubrey.”
Aubrey was about six three, slender, tight, and midnight black. He was forty-five, extremely well groomed, sporting a thick black moustache. His hair was short and neat.
“Okay, I'll show you the house first and then we'll go outside,” he said, returning her smile.
They stopped at a door. He knocked and then opened it. Louis was sitting in a chair on the terrace, still nude, touching himself. He was looking out at Joshua, the blacksmith, who was just outside the stables where Monsieur Bouvier kept his prized stallions. He was shaping a horseshoe. His finely tuned chest and arm muscles flexed each time he struck the iron he held. Louis wanted Joshua, and would do just about anything to have him.
There would be no romantic entanglements between the men, as Joshua was a lover of women: pretty women, voluptuous women, skinny women, ugly women. Joshua enjoyed any woman with whom Monsieur Bouvier paired him. He hated the housemen because they were Bouvier spies and because they were what he called Romans, due to their male on male sexual proclivities. And so Louis just watched him from afar and fantasized day and night of being ravaged powerfully by the blacksmith who ignored his unsolicited advances.
“He wants you now,” Aubrey said, interrupting Louis' daily delight.
He stopped his motion, stood up, and turned around. Seeing Lauren in the hallway prompted no modesty. Instead, he pranced around like a runway model, showing off his tall, thin but muscular physique and his engorged tool. He was quite proud of his sexual prowess and how short his refractory time was, making it possible to give and receive well into the night and early again the next day, if need be.
“Where is he?” he asked, smiling triumphantly while looking at Lauren, but talking to Aubrey. He wanted her to know that Beaumont was his, and that he was Beaumont's whenever he wanted, and that no bed wench, no matter how pretty or well-endowed she was, could ever take his place.
“Right where you left him,” Aubrey said with venom.
With his hands on his hips, thumbs first, he walked up to Lauren and stood close enough for his tool to touch her stomach without him handling it. He looked down at her and then took another step, pushing her a few steps backward with it.
Locking eyes with her, he said, “I
left
him in the hallway, Aubrey.” He stole a quick peek to the right, and seeing no one, fastened his eyes on Lauren again and continued. “I don't see him out here. Do you, Aubrey?”
Aubrey pushed his head hard, and Louis stumbled away from Lauren. “You frail little tart! You
know
where he is. Get in there!”
Louis stuck his tongue out at Aubrey and then he turned around and skipped down the hall like a child of six years. When he reached Beaumont's bedroom, he looked back at them to see if they were still watching him. They were. He turned his body to them and mimicked grabbing and pumping the air. Then he laughed a high-pitched, wildly wicked laugh as he entered the room.

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