Deed to Damnation

Heartline

Ireland lay on the floor, her face stinging at the backhand that had been delivered swiftly and brutally. Henry stood over her, blood dripping from the open wound on the back of his hand. The crimson liquid fell onto her, dotting her stomach and breasts.
Delarue's eyes moved over her coolly even though he was absolutely livid. It was all he could do to not throttle the silly little female at his feet. He could kill her easily whether it was with his bare hands or his weapons that were on the bed. It wasn't like he hadn't snuffed out women before. He didn't enjoy it necessarily but he did what he had to do under certain circumstances. This was not one of those times. Ireland was not a threat although she was trying her damndest to be one. He actually found it amusing.
"Well wildcat, " he drawled, reaching for his breeches, "you certainly are making your new life difficult from the get go, aren't you?"
She didn't dare utter a word as he wrapped his hand in a piece of her shredded undergarments. The blood that had stained her wasn't coming from his neck like she had wanted and he was still very much among the living. She had dug herself a hole that she was sure was going to lead her straight to hell. As soon as he was done dressing, he reached down and grabbed her by the hair, forcing a cry from her and bringing her to a stand in front of him.
"You're awful brave for such a small woman. You should really know your boundaries." He warned.
The thing she found most frightening about this beast was that his voice never raised or wavered at all. It was low and gruff and completely unflustered despite the fact that she had just tried to end him.
"Tell me, Ms. Devereaux, did your father keep sheep or cows?" He asked, pulling his hat on.
"Yes, Sir." She answered immediately. "Both."
She was hoping her swift and respectful response would ease him although she doubted it could. It wasn't like she had merely slapped him. Trying to shove broken glass in his throat was a far cry from that.
He nodded and gathered the sheet off the floor, throwing it in her face rudely.
"Wrap yourself." He ordered. "We're going downstairs."
She almost asked for her clothes but snapped her mouth shut. There was no way he would ever agree to that now so she pulled the light cover tightly around her. What she didn't expect was for him to throw her over his shoulder and proceed to carry her down the stairs like a sack of flour. Once again, she started pounding on his back and insisting he put her down. Her protests were met with a heavy handed slap to her ass, the sting shocking her into silence. It was a good thing too because she didn't need any more attention then what she was getting. The parlor was still occupied with his gang and the ones that weren't passed out were staring curiously.
"James, go get me a bucket of well water and bring it to the barn." Delarue ordered, pulling the front door wide open and hauling her outside.
The stagecoach that had woken him was parked in front, a handful of provocative looking women clambering out of it. Their bags were being handed to them as she passed. Whores. A lot of them and Ireland went berserk. If there was anything that besmirched what her father wanted was whores in his establishment.
"No! No way! Put me down!" She growled, renewing her struggle. "Don't you dare bring those whores into my Papa's house!"
She heard him snicker and  received another smack to her barely protected bottom, harder this time and she bucked on his shoulder at the burn it left behind.
"They're for my men." He informed her, walking purposely towards the back of the building. "Why should I have all the fun? They work hard for me."
The women were staring at her, not even seeming offended by Ire's bold accusation. If anything they seemed confused about what they were looking at. It isn't everyday you see a furious woman, wrapped in a sheet being carried down the road. She watched as they collected their belongings and headed inside her inn. All she wanted to do was wake from this never ending nightmare.
Kicking the barn door open, he dropped her unceremoniously into a large pile of hay and ripped away her covering. The hay pricked at her stinging rear and she bristled. Henry's eyes scanned the barn until he saw exactly what he was looking for. He summoned her with a curl of his finger and pointed to the wooden platform nailed to the barn floor. It was her father's shearing station where he would harvest his wool and sell it to Mr. Caruso who owned the mercantile.
Ireland stared at him in disbelief.
"Don't make me drag you, Ireland." He warned. "I don't think you realize how much worse things can get for you."
The thing was, it wasn't just a simple slab of bolted down wood. There were shackles as well, used to hold the animals in place. They adjusted too, fitting a cow's ankle just as easy as the slender leg of a sheep and beyond.
"What are you going to do?" She peeped.
Delarue's eyes flashed and what he passed for a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I told you I was going to clean you up, didn't I?" He reminded her.
"In here?" She cried miserably.
He had enough of her questions and crossed the barn floor quickly, grabbing her by the nape of her neck and dragging her to the platform. She scrambled to keep up, her knees and palms scraping against the dirty barn floor until he had her front and center.
"This your fault." He chided, as he fastened the iron manacles to her wrists and ankles. "I was going to bathe you properly but only ladies get those kinds of baths. Animals get treated very differently, don't they?"
By the time James came in with the bucket of water, Ireland was on all fours, unable to move save for a few inches. Henry had made sure those iron cuffs were clamped so tight they bit into her skin. It was then she started to beg.
"I'll be good! I promise!" She pleaded, tears stinging her upturned eyes.
James was standing there ogling her body as Delarue ripped the bucket from his hands.
"Now go get me some of that sweet smelling soap I saw in her old bedroom upstairs." Henry ordered.
James hesitated, wanting to look a little longer. She was so vulnerable and he imagined himself kneeling behind her and fucking her good and hard. His thoughts were stolen away when Delarue slapped him on the back of his head.
"Now." Henry growled.
Young James blushed and left to retrieve what his boss told him to and Henry eyed his pretty little barn animal.
"Did you see the way he was looking at you, Ireland?" He asked, swinging the bucket casually. "I think he needs this more than you."
With that, he hauled the bucket back and doused her with half of the bone chilling water. It was like a thousand needles piercing her skin. She shrieked at the suddenness of the chill and goosebumps sprang up on her skin like a clear rash. She began shivering uncontrollably and her nipples tightened so hard they hurt. He sauntered up to her and stood by her head. All she could do was stare at his boots and shake from the cold. She would be lying if she said it wasn't from fear as well. Swooping down on one knee, he grabbed her jaw and squeezed until her mouth was forced open.
"I don't know if your daddy ever told you about choosing quality animals." He taunted. "But you can tell a lot by their teeth."
She whimpered as he clenched a little tighter and inspected the inside of her mouth just to humiliate her. He was holding it in a way so that the inside of her cheeks were wedged between her molars, preventing her from biting down. Bringing his mouth to hers, he kissed her, letting his tongue slither slowly across her pouting bottom lip.
"You seem like a prime specimen, Miss Devereaux." He murmured into her ear and stood straight again.
James returned carrying the soaps that were requested and handed them over. Henry took them and sniffed them, inhaling the very feminine scents. He liked the one that smelled like orange blossom and tossed the other one to the side and began lathering her drenched tresses. He reminded her to keep her eyes closed against the stinging soap. She pinched them shut to avoid the burn but also to block out James's prying eyes. Delarue never dismissed him from the barn and let him stay to leer at her degradations.
He was being surprisingly gentle, massaging her head and neck as she stayed quiet even though she was so cold. Running the soap down her back, he kneaded her sore and strained muscles and continued to the contours of her quivering stomach. She flinched as he moved it over her breasts, swirling the slick cake around her nipples slowly, first one then the other and alternated until he heard her breathing change.
"Please, stop." She whispered to him.
"What's wrong, Ireland?" He asked.
She didn't know how he knew something was wrong. Actually she didn't know herself. It was that same strange swirling in her in belly that she had felt before when he was licking her there and this time her heart was fluttering and her arms were shaking too. She stole a look at him even though she was afraid of bubbles in her eyes. He had a curious look to him, his eyes shining and a sly smirk under his thick mustache.
Much to her relief, he put an abrupt stop to what he was doing but the tingling in her belly remained. It didn't hurt but it felt wrong that he was somehow making it happen and he was doing it on purpose. Her peace didn't last long though as he moved behind her and out of sight.
"James, go get the barber and bring me some towels from the inn." He ordered.
Henry saw the look of disappointment on the kid's face but he had let him see enough. It had also let the wildcat know that he wouldn't spare her delicate sensibilities. She belonged to him and this was a punishment that he was doling out. Hell, he could parade her down the street naked on horseback like Lady Godiva if it pleased him. For now, this was good. He saw the spark his stroking had ignited even though his little innocent was clueless to what was happening.
As soon as James left, Delarue gave her bottom a slap. It was hard and made her snap to attention as he pulled her thighs apart roughly. He wanted to see if her sweet little sex had responded to his sensuous scrubbing of  before he set to wash her there.
"Why are you calling for the barber?" She dared ask.
Her inquiry was answered by two more sharp smacks, making her mewl at the sting.
"Stop asking questions." He growled. "Place your head on the board and keep that ass up high."
Ireland groaned at the command but lowered her her face to the rough wooden surface. His hand was on the soft swell of her bottom and then she felt his finger move through her folds, just one long stroke. She bit her lip at the intimate invasion and held back a pitiful squeal. She was praying he wouldn't violate her again but he seemed content to just inspect her. He spread her velvety lips open with two fingers and grazed a part of her that sent a jolt of sensation through her that made the squeal she was trying to hide come out loudly. Her eyes flew open wide as he pushed two fingers inside her and prodded gently. There was no pain this time. They slid in easily but she clenched against them, trying to expel his probing digits.
He knew her mind might not want anything he was doing to her but her body begged to differ. Her sweet little sex was giving up its honey for him. She didn't see it but he licked his fingers to discover her taste for the first time, and to him, she was a delicacy.
Finally, he set about washing her between her legs and she breathed easier when he stopped exploring her with his hands. Instead, he took his time with the slick bar, concentrating on the spot that had made her feel that shockingly strange sensation. She tried her best to stop it, holding her breath and attempting to will it away. This time it was obvious he knew exactly what he was doing and it made her feel so helpless.
James returned with the town barber, Mr. Evers. He walked in just in time to see Delarue drench a naked woman with the remainder of the icy bucket. She screeched as it hit her and Tom Evers almost dropped his bag of grooming supplies. It took him a moment to recognize her but he did. It was Ireland Devereaux and he had known her since she was a young girl. It was clear she was a woman now and a suffering one to boot from the looks of her.
"Do you think I'm going to need these iron cuffs? Or do you think you can sit still for this next part?" Henry addressed her.
She was shivering uncontrollably and her teeth were chattering so loudly that everyone could hear them clicking. Her lips had taken on a blue tint and she found it hard to speak. Nodding vehemently was not a good enough response and it was met with a quick slap to her thigh.
"Y..y..yes, S..sir..." She stammered through clattering teeth.
Henry nodded and released her from the manacles. Ireland's knees ached from the ordeal and she was absolutely freezing. She was seized by her arm and dragged over to the milking stool where he told her to sit.
"Evers, I want you to shave this woman down for me." He ordered.
"Mr. Delarue..." he stuttered. "I've never..."
Henry shot him a stare so cold the barber knew how Ireland must have felt.
"There's a first time for everything." Delarue quipped. "Ire, spread your legs."
She couldn't bring herself to do it. It was bad enough that James was here simply gawking, but to have one of the townspeople kneeling between her thighs and trimming her down there made her want either cry or vomit. Maybe both. Her defiance was met with a hard smack to her trembling mouth and she complied with a small sob.
Tom Evers approached sheepishly, unfolding his straight razor and kneeling between her parted thighs. His hand was unsteady and she was still shaking from the chill.
"If she doesn't stop shivering I'm going to end up cutting her." He advised. "And she needs to be leaning back so her skin is tight. This isn't a man's face I have here."
Delarue sighed impatiently and grabbed the towel out of James's hands. He toweled her off half heartedly and roughly until her skin was flushed pink and her quaking calmed.
"James, help Ms. Devereaux recline." He ordered.
James sprung into action eagerly, hooking his arms under hers and pulling her back till she was almost flat, her head resting on his lower belly. She held back a gag as he pushed his hips forward, the hard knot in his pants pressing against her neck. He was a pig just like his boss.
The barber was about to take the first precarious swipe of the blade when Henry stopped him. He stood looking at her softness and rubbing his scruff thoughtfully.
"Take off everything but a small patch on the top." He directed, leaning down and stroking the soft fur. "I like the color of it."
Ireland's sex was covered in hair the color of a ripe peach, golden with a hint of light auburn. It was different than what he was used to. He looked at like it was exotic and rare. All the more reason to be possessive over her.
"It also keeps that delicious woman scent." He added.
Evers didn't respond and proceeded to begin shaving her. There was no doubt that the shackles weren't needed for this. Ireland was terrified to even breathe, the cold blade gliding over the soft skin. She noticed the barber was sweating profusely and when he pulled her outer lips tight, she heard Henry growl.
"Watch where you put those fingers, Tom. I don't want to have to cut them off."
"This is a woman's skin and like I said, I've never done this. I don't want to hurt her." He answered. "I have to pull it tight. That's all."
His answer was accepted because Delarue didn't say another word until he was done with his trimming. When he was finished, Mr. Evers sat back on his heels and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. His nerves were shot. If he had screwed this up he was sure Solstice would be in need of a new barber.
Henry inspected the job closely and nodded in approval. Her secrets were no longer hidden beneath tiny curls. Her outer lips were pert and full but not overly large and the little ones that protected her naive little pearl peaked out slightly. It was so inviting he wanted to feast on it right there and then but that would be something she would have to earn. Soon enough.
Evers was busy putting his razor back when Delarue stopped him.
"Do you have a small pair of trimming scissors?" He asked.
"I...I do." Tom answered.
Just when he thought it was over, it wasn't.
"Give them to me and get out of the way." Henry ordered.
The barber handed him the small shears and let him take his place between her spread legs. Henry peered up at his restrained prize, enjoying the turmoil in her shining irises and licked his lips. He leaned in close and caught her light feminine musk mixed with the tantalizing smell of orange blossom. It was all he could do to not push his tongue in and taste her completely as he started to work on her. It only took a few minutes and he was done, the remainder of the fur cut into the shape of a heart. He leaned back and admired his work proudly.
"I want you to look, Ireland." He told her sternly. "This is how I want to keep it. I expect you to come to me and ask when it's time for me to trim it. I'll know when it's due but if you don't ask, you'll be punished. Do I make myself clear?"
At this point, she was ready to tell him anything he wanted to hear. She was exhausted from the trauma and stared down at her sex, a perfect upside down heart looking back at her.
"Yes, Sir." She said, choking back a sob.
"You spend today and tonight in the barn, Ms. Devereaux." He told her, standing up and putting the scissors in his pocket. "I'll decide whether or not to let you back inside tomorrow."
She was scared to speak up but she was hungry. As he brought her back to the shearing boards and cuffed one ankle, she told him. Henry stared down at her. He didn't seem moved at all.
"I always take care of my animals. You're no exception." He sneered. "I'll make sure you're fed."
Tom Evers had made his hasty exit already and Henry grabbed James by the sleeve, pulling him outside. Shutting the doors, he turned to his youngest gang member.
"You go tell one of them whores to bring that filly some breakfast. I want good food for her. She needs to stay healthy." Delarue ordered.
James nodded and went to leave but stopped.
"A heart, boss? Why?"
Delarue gave a small, wicked smile.
"Because that hot little pocket between her legs is a direct line to her heart. By the time I'm done with her, she's going to crave every thing I do to her. Ireland Devereaux will love me and she won't even know when it happened." He stated coldly. "Now go get that woman food like I told you to."
And with that, Delarue headed off to see the farrier. He needed something special for his new pet.

Hmmmm....what could he possibly need? Hope you're all enjoying the new erotic adventure! Comments and votes are amazing! Love ya peeps!💕