…unique or eunuch?...
CHAPTER 1
Eyes streaming, she half stumbled as she fled down the damp and dingy alleyway. Distraught as she was, her nostrils were assailed by the succession of odours emitted, from the different, paint-chipped, shabby doors she hurriedly fled past. Her thoughts were very volatile, alternating between fear and anger.
She stumbled and almost fell. The jolt unleashed a sudden feeling of damp release between her legs and she could feel a wetness trickling down her leg. Still running, she wiped at her crotch through her petticoat, twisting her ankle in the process – this was the start – her anger turning rapidly into a seething white-hot hatred with an accompanying passion for revenge!.
The Reverend Phineas Hobbs stretched himself languorously, belched and took another sip of mulled wine. ‘Not too bad..’, he thought to himself, ‘…not a Bishop yet, but not bad at all for the son of a humble bone and rag merchant!…I’m respected, living comfortably and am virtually the ruler of my own little kingdom – lots of side benefits – especially the variety of tasty young flesh available when I want it!…… all anxious and honoured to please me!’
Thinking of Marie, he felt arousal again – he had really enjoyed her tonight. The feeling of power it gave him – especially when he hurt her! She was beginning to become a habit and this could lead to problems…he must find a way to get rid of her…after all, there were plenty more tasty little tit-bits for him to savour………
Marie stood outside the Reverend’s study. What could he want with her at this time of day? - Finally plucking up her courage, she tremulously knocked on the door. The Voice bade her enter. “…Sit down girl…the Fates have smiled upon you today! - of course, only because of my kindly and Christian outlook!…..you are going to be given an opportunity to better your station in life – indeed your whole future!….I have today confirmed on your behalf, your acceptance of an offer of marriage to a Gentleman Farmer residing in Her Majesty’s Cape Colony in South Africa…..don’t gawp at me girl… get down on your knees and thank the Good Lord for His infinite mercy bestowed upon such a lowly creature as yourself……hmm, and while you’re down there, you could show me a little gratitude as well…..”
Trembling with fear and humiliation, Marie sank to her knees as the Reverend strode towards her busily unbuttoning his flies…
After the disgusting encounter was over, Marie washed her face and rinsed her mouth at the water-pump in the courtyard. She would never forget the horror of it all – the rank unwashed smell of him and his filthy talk – the way he had struck her through her face when she had been unable to avoid throwing-up.
She had made a promise to herself that night, that never ever again, would a man bully and abuse her – she swore an oath that she would take revenge on the Reverend some day – he would be made to suffer the way she had!………..
CHAPTER 2
She gazed about her forlornly. People of different races were moving all around her busily attending to their own tasks, no one spared her a moment – she felt utterly and totally lost and rejected.
This was not at all what she expected. She had experienced a most terrible sea voyage, in cramped, foul, below the deck quarters with absolutely no privacy - the reek of unwashed bodies, excreta and urine fouling the little area that she had been unceremoniously dumped in. When the cry of “…Land Ahoy!...” finally came, she had sobbed with relief.
Now, here she stood on the busy dock, with her pitiful, string-bound sack that contained all of the belongings that she had to her name. Now what?, she mused – the Reverend had told her that she would be met by her husband-to-be, but after waiting for almost four hours no one had as of yet appeared. She was desperately tired and hungry, but had at least had a drink of water, which she bought from one of the many water-sellers wandering around – this came from her hard-earned savings and was reluctantly spent… she would have preferred to have gone into one of the taverns, but was afraid of missing her new benefactor.
Her thoughts were interrupted, by a hand descending on her shoulder none too gently, while a hoarse, rasping voice enquired – “ …you Marie?..”- she turned, to the sight of a huge unkempt , unshaven man who stared at her sardonically whilst scratching the back of his shaggy head.
“..y..yyy…Yessir!” she blurted, unconsciously recoiling and hugging her sack to her chest, her legs suddenly turning to water.
“…..mmm….not much of a bargain I’ll say……still, I suppose what can one expect buying sight-unseen!……well, like any mare, the proof is in the riding!….right,… bring yourself and your sack onto my cart and be snappy about it!…”
They seemed to have been travelling for hours, although the Table Mountain background had not diminished much. The landscape around her was incredibly beautiful, the greenery lush, the harsh squawking of the sea-gulls was replaced by the many different songs of birds she had never known existed. They had passed many other travellers, some of them dark-skinned and minimally clad, walking, riding on donkeys, others obviously wealthy, travelling in stylish coaches, even herds of cattle - in most cases driven by diminutive herdsmen who stared at them wide-eyed as they passed. He had for most of the time ignored her completely, except for the times that he passed her a Hessian-clad bottle, of flat-tasting water, which she gratefully sipped – at least she wouldn’t die of thirst, but what she wouldn’t give for a bite to eat! – Her stomach growled in protest, she had last eaten only a thick slice of home-made bread, given to her by a sympathetic matron on board the heaving boat, shortly before they docked in Cape Town – the first bit of food that she had managed to keep down since boarding. Her thoughts wandered back to the Reverend – the swine! – He had used her and abused her with a total lack of concern, and when he had tired of her, unceremoniously ejected her – his time would come! – She swore that from now on, no man would ever get the better of her…
-----------------
CHAPTER 3
Marie gazed down at her rapidly expanding middle – she wondered whether it would be a boy or a girl – poor sod, whoever it was. Life had not changed much for her, although she had to admit that the weather certainly made a great difference – beautiful blue skies most of the time, unlike London with its grey, cold, damp and gloomy atmosphere where the citizens seemed to be void of any interest in their surroundings or fellow denizens. Here in the Cape of Good Hope, the locals, mostly seemed, to be of a cheerful disposition, whether White, Black or Coloured – there was a feeling of companionship amongst the local farmers which made her feel welcome although she was a foreigner – her pregnancy an interest to be shared by the farming wives – here for the first time, she felt as if she was of some consequence.
HE of course was a lout, actually not much different from the Reverend –using her when it suited him and not caring a damn whether she liked or wanted it. Occasionally when HE had imbibed too much of the local ‘Kaapsche Witblits’ (a primitive, locally-brewed brandy of extreme potency) he would use her roughly, becoming more and more aroused by her cries of pain, battering down upon her with such fury that her pubis would be painful to the touch for days, fuelling her increasing hatred of men. Her only comforting thought, was the fact that at least she was legally married and that she would inherit everything should he die – at least her child would not grow up in a London slum, and would have a mother who cared.
The little girl was adorable, she gazed up tranquilly with her dark eyes at Marie, who felt that her heart would break with love for this little mite who had changed her whole life, arousing thoughts and instincts she did not know she possessed, someone she could unreservedly love. HE showed absolutely no interest at all, only commenting sourly after the birth, “….I suppose I should have known, that you weren’t capable of giving me a son and heir – that’s what I get for buying ‘sight unseen’!…..”.
His attitude actually suited Marie, as she felt, the less HE had to do with her child, the better - and the only times that he did have contact, he always found fault.
Marie was busily sweeping her kitchen floor, when one of the farm-hands banged noisily on the fly-screened door – “….Mem come quick, the Master he hev occident! …..quick!..”. , she set off after the farmhand who ran towards and entered the barn where the storing of hay bales was being done.
HE lay alongside the ladder, which gave access to the upper
landing of the barn. His head was at a peculiar angle to his body, and it was
apparent that his neck had been broken, his eyes stared vacantly, his
mouth, a rictus of anger.
They buried him next to his parents, in the small cemetery on the one corner of the farm. The funeral party had consisted of Marie, two farmhands, the neighbour and his wife and the Minister. HE had never attended the Church services, so the Minister cut the sermon appropriately short , not even waiting for a cup of coffee afterwards.
The neighbours also departed as soon as was decently possible. HE was not a well-liked man….
______________
CHAPTER 4
Life became more physically and mentally stressful for Marie, for now she had to run a small but busy farm herself, besides looking after the home and her child. She had never had proper schooling, so the running of the home and farm had been a really desperate learning curve for her. Fortunately, Mr. Smit, the local, well-liked schoolmaster had been more than willing to coach her a few evenings a week – the book-keeping was her particular need and interest, and this helped her with the settling of her husband’s estate with the bank. She was pleasantly surprised to find that she had become a lady of means, modest yes, but to her… totally unexpected.
For the first time in her life, she did not have to depend on someone else - she was the pilot of her own ship. She had a lot to learn about finance, but was absolutely determined to do so – and no man would ever, ever, tell her what to do again. Her daughter would never be subjected to the humiliations that she had endured, and she would teach her, how to use and outwit men!.
Marie had come to realize that she had a definite
power over men – even Mr. Smit had started finding excuses to ‘pop in’, to see
if there was ‘anything’ she needed – she knew what he ‘needed’… very obviously,
when he stood up, after one of their long study sessions – even though he tried
to hide the bulge in his trousers, with his overcoat. Like dogs these men…would
do anything to get a leg over!.
Mr. Schonvogel, the Bank Manager, had also started to try his luck, ‘..a …
little drinkie’ at his club, where he would introduce her to friends who would be
able to help in many business ways… He
was prepared to be her mentor and sponsor her where necessary – they could have
a ‘mutually-beneficial understanding’…..
She had not given him a rejection, but had left him with the feeling that there would be a future for them – she would play him for all that he was worth – and that would cost him plenty!
--------------
CHAPTER 5
Rory Collett was sweat-soaked, when he entered the ‘shower-room’ in a corner of one of the outhouses which he had built since he had come to work for ‘ the missus ‘ just over a year ago. He was not a big man, but as any employer would agree ‘...worth his weight in gold…’ He had really given his all for the ‘missus’, working well after the normal hours to try to improve the running of the farm – and this had been successful – good crops, healthy cattle and a farm that had become almost a show-place in the district.
He cast off his sweat-stained clothes and standing under the oaken water tank, pulled at the rope which released a fairly firm spray of cold water – he shivered as the water hit his skin, then began relaxing as he soaped himself with the home-made carbolic soap – taking the stress out of his knotted muscles. Releasing the rope, he halted the downpour of water, and reaching into a recess in the rough wall of the ‘shower’, he brought forth a cutthroat razor and a small piece of mirror. He lathered his face with the carbolic soap and began shaving. He washed the lather from his face and stared at the result in the mirror – a pleasantly suntanned, thick-eye-browed Celtic-looking face stared back at him – he winked at himself, and then started with fright ….a woman was reflected in the mirror standing behind him!
Marie stared at Rory – she had never before
noticed, that he was actually quite a good-looking fellow – her eyes dropped
down to his
waist….and...rather well-hung!….her tongue flicked momentarily across her lips,
as she raised her eyes to his,… he, red-faced, tried to cover himself, dropping
the mirror and soap, and reddened further as his member treacherously started
to stiffen!
A gasp escaped her lips, as she stepped in to the shower and tremulously put her arms around Rory, bringing her lips hungrily against his.
Rory shuddered and almost came, but then hesitated no longer, and bringing his hands up to her bodice, ripped away stays and cloth and circled her breasts with quivering fingers, and as she panted, he tore away her skirts, petticoats and drawers and drew her down to the wet floor of the shower!
There was no hesitation as he entered her summarily, groaning as he immediately came,… she gave a muted shriek and arched her back pressing against him, feeling him empty his fluid into her!. This was the first orgasm that Marie had ever had - she realized that this was indeed something very special – also very confusing, to feel this strange and tender comfort in the arms of a MAN?. They had not spoken at all during this passionate encounter - no words seemed to be necessary. She slipped out of his arms, stood up and then led him to her bedroom in the farmhouse………
Rory was undoubtedly like no other man that she had ever known - he was courteous, kind and loving and always affectionate towards her and he ran the farm with extreme efficiency. Their “love-child” was now one year old, a dainty, delicate little thing that was the spitting image of Marie in miniature – the apple of her father’s eye. The two girls, were as different as could be in nature, and in looks, but had one thing in common - they loved one another - the elder, Margaret, being particularly protective towards her little sister, Amelia.
Rory and Marie had legalized their union -
and had become persons of standing within the local community. Both were
popular and well-liked by
the farming element - and respected by the local Chamber of Commerce, the
meetings of which they both attended.
Their finances continued to improve, Rory investing very carefully and always discussing whatever he intended doing, with her first. He had acquired the reputation of being an astute businessman and was respected by the bank. She was experiencing a happiness that she had never ever expected – her future, and that of her two girls, seemed secure – and all thanks to a wonderful man, who loved and adored her passionately – the only time that they were separated was when he saw service with the Government troops during the First World War!. Life was indeed good!.
CHAPTER 6
Nine prosperous years had passed smoothly for them, when Fate stepped in – the crops failed, the cattle sickened and the bulk of their investments collapsed. Rory after much thought, decided that they should sell, and salvage as much as they could and re-establish themselves, in the town of Kimberley, where he was told, opportunity in the diamond fields abounded.
Their arrival in Kimberley was fortuitous, as after finding an area where they could halt their heavily-laden ox-wagons and camp temporarily – they were told that they were just in time to join the latest site-claim race. Participants would line up and then, at the crack of a pistol, race over a predetermined area and stake claims where they wished, using marked pegs to determine the extent of their “site” or “dig”.
The excitement amongst the “would-be” prospectors was infectious, and both Marie and Rory although tired after their long journey, raced across the veldt towards the area they had chosen, staking-off their own “claim” with triumphant glee.
After the lodging of their “claim” at the
deeds office, they went to the “Digger’s Supply Store” and began buying the
shovels, panning trays, sieves, trestle tables, sorting trays etc., that they
would need - all supplied to them by the beaming owner, duly impressed by the
glowing
letter of credit from their Bank Manager - soon the next stage would
commence….”Hard Work!”….
About three miles from their “dig”, they found the ideal location for building a home, and after a bit of wrangling with the property owner reached a mutually satisfactory price.
Predictably, the Colletts flourished and soon became one of the leading families in Kimberley, owning many businesses, properties, stables, racing-horses etc. ……….
________________________
CHAPTER 7
James Kane, sank tiredly, into the aisle seat, after storing his overnight case in the overhead recess. The legroom was quite good, as the three-seat row, had no seats in front of them, being directly next to the Emergency Door exit. He was pleased to note that the other two seats were unoccupied… his eyelids began to droop - he had not slept for hours, what with all the meetings he had attended, the flight delays caused by the Iceland volcano and the rigorous demands of the evening’s delightful companion…
His musing was interrupted by a softly spoken, ‘..excuse me!..’ -dazedly he opened his eyes, to be confronted by a twinkling pair of blue eyes staring down at him curiously. He focused on the owner, an attractive, smartly dressed blonde, who smilingly repeated her request.
‘…Sorry!..’ he said, clumsily lurching to his feet, almost tripping himself up, much to the quiet amusement of the newcomer, who lithely slipped past him, to claim the window seat. She smoothed her skirt down, settled herself more comfortably, smiled up at him, and said,…
‘Hi!….I’m Ann, and you’re…?’ - ‘…Jaay…er…Jim …’ he said thickly, feeling utterly loutish, and compounded this by catching his buttocks on the arm-rest as he sat down. Damn!, that was bloody sore he thought to himself, not exactly a brilliant introduction, and she was quite a “looker” too!……..trust me to screw it up……..mind you, that look she just gave me is hopeful…. let’s see what we can do….So thinking, he pressed the button for cabin service, …a bit of South African champagne could hopefully dull the pain!
Three bottles of champs followed up by “Scottish Wine” doubles, and the arm-rests folded out of the way,- they clung to one another, revealing the fact that they were both married but not at all averse to a bit of comforting on the side. By this time - 2.30am SA time, all the cabin lights had been switched off, or dimmed, and no-one paid them any attention – not that this would have in any way affected their rising lust. They would be landing at the Oliver Tambo International Airport (formerly Jan Smuts International – Johannesburg) where she would be catching a connecting flight to Lesotho, joining her husband, a Geologist, who was finishing a two-year contractual obligation. In a fit of magnanimity, fuelled by lust and the urgency of the moment, he suggested that she break her journey for a day in Johannesburg, where he and his lover, would show her the sights – ‘..Yes!, yes!..’she said as his questing hand massaged her mound, causing her to dampen her panties which he ripped off, and cast down - to join his underpants and trousers which lay rumpled on the floor.
The relief and pleasure was tremendous as he plunged in to her, she locking her legs around his back. He felt h