Special Smashwords Edition
Crimson by Choice
By Scott Lane
Special Smashwords Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should go to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
Published by
Melange Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
Crimson By Choice, Scott Lane, Copyright 2011
ISBN 978-1-61235-996-0
Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Credits
Editor: Nancy Schumacher
Copy Editor: Taylor Evans
Format Editor: Mae Powers
Cover Artist: M. Powers
Crimson by Choice
By Scott Lane
Only a mysterious servant girl can sooth her master’s wild bouts of violent madness. To save her from a sadistic fate, the young master pays a terrible price that tests the limits of their love.
Crimson by Choice
By Scott Lane
Chapter One
Breakfast
Home from war
Flames crackled in twin cooking ovens. Iron caldrons filled with bubbling water hung over red-hot hearth coals. Bacon strips sizzled in frying pans. Busy servant girls baked fresh biscuits and stirred hot oatmeal. The scent of breakfast filled the air.
Hyacinth waited beside the wooden kitchen table. Locks of golden hair framed her young face. Wavy tresses curled over her shoulders and draped midway to her back. The bustling servants avoided Hyacinth’s gaze, but all knew she was there.
Lilly, the head mistress, arranged a serving tray with a plate of scrambled eggs, two buttered muffins, a dish of strawberry jam, a juice-filled glass, and a crystal vase containing one fragrant red rose. Like the other servants, Lilly wore a black dress, a crisp white blouse, and a dark blue bonnet over her salt and pepper hair. She labored to arrange the tray exactly as the young master demanded. When she felt the presentation met his exacting standards, Lilly plucked a red silk ribbon from her front dress pocket. She stood behind Hyacinth and bundled the young woman’s wavy locks inside a large bow. Lilly turned Hyacinth toward a cracked dressing mirror propped in the kitchen corner. She affectionately fluffed Hyacinth’s hair and smoothed the folds in her red satin dress.
The envious servant girls stole quick glances at lovely Hyacinth while they shoveled steaming eggs on breakfast plates. Each took great care not to gaze directly into Hyacinth’s enchanting blue eyes.
“How marvelous you look,” Lilly observed with glowing pride. She whispered into Hyacinth’s ear. “Blake is waiting for you.”
Baron Edmond Creighton, lord and master of the vast estate, burst through the kitchens’ swinging door. He wore a red coat, a black satin vest, and riding pants that stretched around his rotund belly. The Baron carried a wooden walking cane in the fat fingers of his right hand that he used to assist his stiff right leg that he injured in a long ago riding accident. The servants immediately bowed to the Baron and cast their subservient gazes to the stone floor. Hyacinth alone maintained her chin held high.
The Baron rapped his impatient cane on the wooden table, causing the trays to rattle and the servants to flinch. “Is my son’s breakfast ready?” he roared.
Lilly curtsied to her master. “Yes sir, Hyacinth is on her way.”
The Baron studied his son’s breakfast tray. He leaned over the food plate and inspected the steaming eggs. “Are these fresh?”
“Yes, sir,” Lilly answered. “I fetched them from the henhouse this morning.”
“And this apple juice, it is fresh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hump,” the Baron grunted. He pointed at the tray with his cane. “Are these muffins hot?”
“Yes sir,” Lilly responded.
“Very well,” the Baron replied with a satisfied nod. He shifted his focus to the crimson bow in Hyacinth’s flowing hair. She gazed at his weathered face with her soft blue eyes. The tension in the Baron’s thick shoulders relaxed, and his stern brow frowned. His commanding voice softened to a near whisper. A gentle smile formed on his lips. “You best hurry along my dear, he had a bad night.”
“Here’s his breakfast,” Lilly said. She lifted the silver tray from the kitchen table and handed it to Hyacinth’s waiting palms. Lily caressed Hyacinth’s tender face with her fingertips. “Be careful, my dear. He may be in one of his moods.”
Hyacinth balanced the silver tray with both hands and gazed calmly into Lilly’s worried eyes. “I’ll be fine,” she replied. She walked carefully to avoid spilling a drop of juice.
The envious servant girls halted their busy tasks to watch beautiful Hyacinth. The Baron limped in front of her to open the kitchen door. Lilly watched with anxious eyes.
Hyacinth stepped from the kitchen onto the gravel courtyard that separated the mansion from the stables. The morning sun peeked over the horizon on a cold, clear autumn day. Chilled winds blowing down from the mountain tossed her hair and sent an uneasy shudder along her spine. Hyacinth glanced over her shoulder to the distant crest of the towering mountain where the feared Crimson Demon ruled.
“You best hurry,” the Baron advised her from the open kitchen door.
She nodded and resumed her journey. Gravel crunched under her shoes while she walked through the courtyard. The air echoed with the sounds of burly workmen sawing fresh timber. Crews gathered horses and prepared to leave for the crop rich fields that quilted the Creighton valley. Veteran soldiers of the Baron’s personal guard patrolled the estate, clutching coffee mugs and smoking hand rolled cigarettes. Brass saber scabbards clanged against their thick riding boots while they walked. The eyes of every man watched Hyacinth on her morning trek to the stables. They gazed at her fine satin dress, her elegant face, and the sunlight gleaming in her eyes, but none dared speak to her.
Hyacinth walked through the open stable doors past two groomsmen scattering fresh hay in the stalls. The youths halted their chores and stared at the alluring woman carrying the silver tray. They leaned their pitchforks against a stable door and scampered from the stable into the courtyard. Hyacinth ascended creaking stairs toward a second floor room above the stabled horses. She nudged her way inside the slightly askew door.
Blake Creighton sat in a leather chair behind his oak desk. His predatory black eyes glared at Hyacinth while she walked toward him. He wore a white ruffled shirt and clutched a stiff riding crop in his right fist. His mussed black hair and unshaven face evidenced lack of sleep. A crumpled pile of bloody clothes occupied the corner next to his disheveled bed. A razor sharp saber dangled from the back of his chair. Hyacinth noticed dried blood covering the steel blade. She felt his disturbed gaze crawling over her flesh. Blake glared at her while she carefully rested the serving tray on his desk. She held her arms to her sides, submissively lowered her chin, and waited in silence. Blake studied her face with his brooding gaze.
He rolled the whip in his fingers while he glared at her. “These eggs are cold,” Blake snarled.
“You haven’t tasted them,” Hyacinth replied.
Blake slammed the desk with his fist causing juice to spill from the glass. “I said these eggs are cold.”
“The air is chilled this morning from a mountain wind,” she replied in a hushed voice. “The Crimson Demon’s breathe blew over your eggs.”
Blake tapped the desktop with his whip. He stared at her with menacing eyes. “My breakfast is cold because you stopped to talk with someone, didn’t you?”
“No, sir,” she hastily answered.
“Which of the guards visits you at night?”
“No guard would dare come to my room.”
Blake rapped his frustrated fingertips on the desk. His facial tension increased with each passing second. He narrowed his eyes and pointed his whip toward a window that offered a view of the guardhouse across the courtyard. “When no one is watching, you sneak into his room and crawl into his bed. He takes you into his arms and you please him with your tricks, don’t you?”
Hyacinth shook her head. “No, sir, I do not.”
“You torment me with your lies on purpose, don’t you?” Blake fumed. “You like to see me suffer.”
“No, sir,” Hyacinth replied in a whisper.
Blake pointed his threatening whip at her. “You are a mountain witch, aren’t you?”
She answered in a fearful voice. “I am Hyacinth.”
Blake’s troubled eyes glared at Hyacinth’s chest. She stood still and waited for him to command her. She sensed his anger growing and that he might explode at her without warning.
“Is that one of my sister’s old dresses?” Blake asked.
“Yes, sir. Carla gave it to me.”
“I don’t like it,” Blake snapped. He violently slammed his fist on the desk causing Hyacinth to flinch. His face flushed violent red. Veins in his neck bulged with purple blood. He cast a menacing glare at her. “I forbid you to wear my sister’s closet rags. If you need a new dress, I’ll buy you one.” Blake pounded his chest with his fist. “I will buy your clothes and no one else.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Hyacinth said and bowed her head.
“My breakfast is cold,” Blake shouted and violently shoved the serving tray from the desktop, scattering the plates and food onto the floor. “Can’t you get here on time?”
Hyacinth glanced at the shattered plates. “I hurried, but the Demon wind…“
Blake pointed his threatening whip at her face and roared, “Take that dress off, right now.”
“Yes, sir,” Hyacinth replied with a quick curtsey. Under his scorching gaze, she unbuttoned the dress. She tugged the garment down to her ankles and kicked it away. She slipped off her shoes and nudged them to the side. She stood in front of the young master wearing only a thin white undershirt that barely reached the top of her naked thighs. She worried someone might enter the unlocked door and see her exposed. Her face flushed with embarrassment. She wanted to cover her legs, but she dared not protect herself. Blake jerked a pair of riding boots from under his desk. He flung them onto the floor at her feet.
“My boots are muddy,” he snarled. “Aren’t you supposed to keep my boots clean?”
“Yes, sir,” Hyacinth replied. “I didn’t know you were home.”
Blake slammed his crop on the desktop with wild vengeance. Hyacinth’s shoulders jerked from the forceful impact. “You are supposed to know,” he shouted. “That is why I keep you here.” He pointed through the windows toward the manor house. “I can banish every servant out of the valley. What good are you if you can’t perform simple tasks?”
Hyacinth trembled from his booming voice. She glanced at his powerful hands and his furious eyes. She wondered what pain he might inflict on her with his wicked riding crop. “I’m sorry, sir,” she replied. “I’ll do better.”
Blake stormed toward her. She flinched but didn’t step back. He towered over her, glaring at her face with his disturbed black eyes. His hot breath rolled down her arms causing her ears to tingle. He might whip her or slap her, but she dared not move.
Blake ripped the bow from her hair and tossed the silk ribbon on his desk. He lifted her chin with the tip of his riding crop stared into her deep blue eyes. “I should whip you,” he threatened. “I should teach you a lesson you won’t forget. Maybe then you’ll clean my boots.”
His harsh words sent chills racing down her back. A member of the Baron’s guard entered Blake’s room without knocking. Hyacinth covered her naked thighs with her hands.
The guard spoke to Blake. “Master, we need you…”
“Get out of here!” Blake roared with force enough to rattle the windows. “The next man who steps in my room will die where he stands.”
The guard bowed and closed the door. Hyacinth shivered from Blake’s angry voice. She uncovered her thighs for Blake to view. He traced the tip of his riding crop over her defenseless legs. She sensed raging lust building inside of him. She observed the expanding budge in pants. She stood still, not knowing what he might do next. Fear mixed with sexual anticipation tingled along her shoulders. Blake was so much larger and stronger than her. With his panting breathe trickling along her arms he seemed more like a wild animal than a man. His broad shoulders and muscular arms radiated strength. His nostrils flared as he breathed. Tension gripped his forehead and his eyes.
“Is that guard the one you fuck?” Blake asked and pointed at the closed door.
“No, sir,” she replied.
Hyacinth knew he might whip her or lash her to his bed. Not knowing how he would take her increased her excitement. She stood perfectly still. Her heart raced.
Blake thrust his powerful fingers into her thick hair and jerked her head. He forced her to look directly into his menacing eyes. “Who did you fuck while I was gone?” he demanded.
“No one,” she gasped.
Blake slammed his whip against the desktop. “You’re a liar. I turn my back for one minute and you fucked every man in the valley, didn’t you?”
Hyacinth shook her head. “No, sir.”
Blake held her face steady and peered deeply into her strange blue yes. “Who are you?”
“Your loyal servant,” she whispered.
Blake jerked her head with his powerful grip. “Are you a mountain whore?”
“No, sir.”
“You’ll sleep with anyone won’t you?”
“No, sir, I won’t.”
“I don’t believe a word you say,” he snarled and pushed her away. “Get out and leave me alone.”
Hyacinth had no intention of leaving. She lowered her chin and spoke in a seductive whisper. “Please let me stay.”
He thrust his fist at her. “You are twisting my mind with your spells.”
She gazed into his confused eyes. “I’ll do anything to please you,” she offered in a tender voice. “If I have been bad, punish me.”
Blake pointed at his desk with his riding crop. “Bend over. I’ll whip the truth out of you.”
A chill raced along Hyacinth’s neck. She rested her palms on the oak desktop and bowed her head. Blake lifted her nightshirt exposing her naked ass. His callused hands caressed her soft skin and probed between her thighs. His touch sent tingling shivers dancing between her legs. “I’m going to teach you a lesson,” Blake whispered in her ear. “Can you behave?”
“Yes, sir,” Hyacinth sighed.
Without warning, Blake slashed her unprotected legs with his riding crop. Hyacinth’s knees quivered but she didn’t move. She dared not move. He raised the whip over his head and gave her another lash across her white cheeks. A dark red welt rose on her flesh where the cruel leather landed. The sting made her wince and filled her with sexual anticipation. Despite the pain, she offered her ass for more punishment. She didn’t know if he meant to whip her again, but she knew from experience he could hit much harder if wished. Blake caressed the welt on her ass with his fingers. He traced the tip of the leather crop over the welt on her thigh.
“You are a whore, aren’t you?” Blake asked.
“No, sir, I am not,” Hyacinth gasped.
He grabbed her hair and jerked back her head. “How many men have you fucked?”
“One,” she sighed.
“You’re a liar,” he snapped and raised the whip over his head. “I’m going to beat you until you tell me the truth.”
Hyacinth closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. Blake could lash her until she bled and she wouldn’t move an inch. She expected the angry whip to cut her again and she held her breathe. Total submission to Blake’s will was her only defense against his rage. She stood on her tiptoes and offered herself for more.
Blake flung the crop to the floor and spun her around. He seized her face with his strong hands. Tears trickled from his pained eyes. “I wrote you a letter,” he said and shook her face. “Why didn’t you come when I called for you?”
“I didn’t know,” Hyacinth replied. “I can’t read.”
“I was all alone,” Blake said in a halting voice. “I needed you and you didn’t come.”
“I would have come to you,” Hyacinth replied and cupped his agitated face in her warm palms. “I didn’t know.”
Blake released her and stumbled backwards. He rubbed his temples with his fingertips. Tears streaked down his tormented cheeks. “I’ve done horrible things. I’m a mad dog, like everyone says.”
“No,” Hyacinth whispered and caressed his tear stained face. “You’re not mad.”
“An evil curse runs in my blood,” he ranted. “I feel demon fingers reaching deep into my soul.” Blake sunk his hands into her hair. He stared at her with longing eyes. “I missed you, I needed you. Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I’m here,” Hyacinth whispered and kissed his lips.
Blake swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed. He rested her on the sheets and ripped away her nightshirt. He grabbed the satin ribbon from the desktop and bound her wrists.
“You aren’t running away from me,” he said. Blake ripped away his clothes like a tiger tearing out of a cage. His ridged cock throbbed with anxious blood. The sight of his muscled flesh filled Hyacinth with desire. Her bound wrists increased her excitement. Blake lay on top of her and she opened with welcoming legs. He locked his hand on her defenseless throat and pinned her firmly to the bed. “How many men have you fucked?”
She kissed his face. “One and only one.”
He jammed into her as if he were stabbing with his deadly saber. He released his hand from her throat and caressed her face. “You look like an angel,” he sighed. “Are you an angel?”
“I’m your lover,” Hyacinth assured with a tender kiss. “I’ll always be your lover.”
Blake rammed into her. While he fucked her, his anger diminished. His eyes softened and his tense muscles relaxed. Hyacinth wrapped her legs around him and kissed his face. “I missed you,” Blake sighed. “I was all alone.”
She kissed his cheeks and locked her legs firmly to his. He pounded her for a long while before finally exploding in a desperate gasp. His thick semen spilled out of her and soaked the sheets. Blake rolled off her and flopped on his back.
Hyacinth curled on his chest and gazed into his exhausted eyes. “I missed you too,” she whispered and licked his sweating neck. “I like it when you push me around.”
“You haven’t been with anyone else, have you?” he asked.
“Never.”
“If I found you with another man, I’d rip out his heart. I’d burn down his fucking house, I’d butcher his horses, I’d kill…”
“Hush,” Hyacinth said and sealed his lips with hers. “No more angry talk.”
Blake hugged her tightly to his chest and closed his eyes. After five deep breaths, he was sound asleep. Hyacinth sat up in his bed and admired his handsome face. She caressed his thick black hair and kissed his closed eyes. She used her teeth to tug the satin from her wrists. With the cord, she tied a bow around her lush hair. She tucked a sheet around Blake and slipped into her dress and shoes. She quietly collected the silver tray and the spilled plates from the floor. She eased from Blake’s bedroom and walked down the stairs. In the courtyard, the grooms, workers, and guards silently watched her return to mansion.
Lilly received her at the kitchen door. She noticed the sweat on Hyacinth’s neck and the broken plates. Lilly accepted the tray from Hyacinth and sat it on the table. She cupped Hyacinth’s flushed face in her loving palms. Small tears gathered in her eyes.
“Whatever would we do without you,” she said to Hyacinth. “They say Blake worsened during the war. The horrible things he did make the hair on the back of my neck bend.”
“He’s sleeping,” Hyacinth said and removed the bow from her hair.
“You are the only one who can control him,” Lilly said. “I fear what he would do if not for you. He’s mad, just like the prophecy…”
“Don’t say that,” Hyacinth interrupted. “Blake is not mad. He’s lonely.”
Lilly smiled and gently touched Hyacinth’s hair. “All Creighton men are violent, red passion runs in their blood.” She kissed Hyacinth’s forehead. “I thank the spirits for sending us you.”
Chapter Two
The Fifth Son
Twenty-one years earlier
Baron Edmond Creighton focused his worried gaze toward the dark eastern horizon. He paced his bedroom balcony, continuously wringing his nervous hands. The Baron studied the gold pocket watch he carried in his vest. His gaze desperately searched eastward for the sun. “Why so dark at this hour?” he asked.
His younger brother Jonathan offered a comforting smile. “Elizabeth’s strength will see her through this birth.”
Edmond stared into the darkness covering the valley. “It’s not my wife I’m worried about. If this child lives, he will be the fifth son of a fifth son.”
Jonathan grasped his brother’s thick shoulders. “This child may be another daughter.”
Edmond stared eastwards. Darkness reigned over the sky. “How long before sunrise?”
“Any minute,” Jonathan predicted.
Edmond gazed into his younger brother’s eyes. “If a male child is born in the dark, we can’t let him live.”
Jonathan halfheartedly scoffed. “That prophecy is an old superstition. We live in modern times. We can’t…”
A woman’s agonizing scream pierced the night. Both men turned their gaze toward the hallway outside Edmond’s bedroom. They listened for another cry. A pained howl, like the shriek of a wounded animal, echoed within the mansion walls. Edmond’s brow furrowed. “Here he comes. God help us.”
In the crowded nursery, four women and one doctor huddled around a bed. They wiped sweat from Elizabeth’s face and urged her to hold on. She gashed the sheets with her fingernails. Her delirious eyes stared at the ceiling. “My baby wants out.”
“A minute longer,” the desperate doctor pleaded. He anxiously glanced toward the east facing windows. “The sun is rising.”
The midwives swabbed thick crimson blood oozing from Elizabeth’s birth canal. Her eyes rolled back into her head. “He’s clawing me, he wants out!”
A hint of sunlight glowed in the distance. “One more minute, my brave lady,” the doctor begged. The nervous midwives glanced at the twilight sky. A single golden ray burst over horizon.
“He’s coming!” Elizabeth screamed. “Nothing can stop him.” The Baron’s prized hunting dogs yelped and howled in their kennel. Horses reared and bayed in their stalls. Violent red lightening ripped over the cloudless sky. The earth rumbled from the rolling thunder. A head emerged between Elizabeth’s legs. She arched her back in agony. With no assistance from the doctor, the baby fought free of his mother’s bloody flesh. The dogs burst into frenzy, yelping and snapping each other with frothing fangs. Horses stormed free of their stalls and galloped wild over the valley. Before the sun’s yellow crest broke the horizon, the baby pulled himself free of his mother’s womb.
The stunned doctor glanced at the midwives. “The sun was out, wasn’t it?” he asked.
The women exchanged nervous glances, but did not reply. “My son,” Elizabeth panted and reached for her infant. “Does he breathe?”
The doctor lifted the crimson baby from the sheets. Thick cobs of dark blood clotted to his flesh. With a fresh cotton towel, the midwives fluffed the child’s skin. The doctor held the baby toward morning light. The infant’s eyes opened and his lungs filled with air but he didn’t cry. “Yes, lady, your son lives,” the doctor announced.
Elizabeth thrust out her arms. “Give him to me.” The doctor cradled the baby into her quivering hands. Golden morning sunlight bathed the nursery. The proud mother touched her son’s face. Joyful tears formed in her eyes. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
The doctor wiped blood from his hands. “Yes, my lady, a fine boy.”
Elizabeth fed her nipple to her hungry son. “Oh,” she winced. “He has a strong bite.” The child suckled in his mother’s protective arms. Edmond and Jonathan rushed through the nursery door. The women blew out candles and cleaned the afterbirth.
Edmond pulled the doctor aside. “Tell me what happened.”
“You have a healthy, strong son.”
“Did he enter this world before or after sunrise?”
The doctor glanced at the bright morning light. “After sunrise, I think.”
Edmond let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you for all your skills.”
Baron Creighton joined his wife and watched his son nurse. Elizabeth spoke with pride. “Look at Blake’s arms and his legs. See how powerful our son is.”
Edmond nodded. “Yes, I see.”
Elizabeth took Edmond’s hand. “We finally have an heir. We are blessed.”
Edmond pulled open his son’s tiny fist. He inspected Blake’s small hand. “Why are his fingernails red?”
“Blood concentration,” the doctor explained. “It’s not uncommon. It will pass.”
The doctor closed his medical kit and walked from the room. Edmond kissed his wife and followed the physician into the hallway. Both men silently strolled past estate guards toward the gardens. They walked through the mansion’s front entrance and stopped next to the doctor’s carriage. Jonathan peered into the physician’s exhausted eyes. “Tell me the truth, was my son born after sunrise?”
“I can’t be certain,” the doctor replied. “I don’t know the exact instant when the sun rose.”
“Was there light in the eastern sky?”
“The baby’s head emerged between dawn and night. There was light, but faint.”
Edmond seized the doctor’s shoulders. “I must know the truth. Was my son born during Demon Time?”
The doctor gazed into Edmond’s strained eyes. “I don’t know.”
“When did he take his first breath?”
“The sun was over the horizon when he breathed, of that I’m certain.”
Edmond nodded and released his grip. “He is the fifth son of a fifth son.”
The doctor nodded. “Everyone in the Empire knows the legend of Blake Creighton.”
Edmond wrung his nervous hands. “If he was born during Demon Time, I must kill him now, while I still can. Soon he will grow too strong and no one will be able to control him.” Edmond gazed over the doctor’s shoulder toward the mist-covered mountain. “If he lives to challenge the Crimson Demon, we will all pay a high price.”
The doctor nodded toward the upper floor nursery windows. “If you kill that child, you’ll have to kill your wife. Her prior four sons were stillborn. She fought with all her soul to bring that child into the world alive. Elizabeth will protect that boy with every fiber of her being.” The doctor smiled and patted Edmond’s worried shoulder. “We live in new times. We can’t be guided by old legends.”
The Baron pointed toward the distant mountain top. “I assure you the Crimson Demon is very real.”
“You have a healthy son,” the doctor said. “Be thankful for him.” The physician boarded his carriage and shut the door. The driver whipped the horses and steered through the estate walls. Jonathan joined his brother in the front courtyard and slapped Edmond hard on the back. “Congratulations, you have an heir.”
Edmond gazed upwards toward the nursery windows. “I hope I don’t regret letting him live.”
Chapter Three
Evil Sisters
After the war
Hyacinth tapped lightly on Isabella’s closed bedroom door. She obediently waited in the hallway for instructions. Isabella answered the knock and tugged Hyacinth into her lavish rooms. Isabella closed the heavy wooden door and sealed the brass latch. Cool mountain air rolled in from the open balcony doors. Vases overflowing with colorful flowers decorated her bedside table.. Thick rugs covered the stone floor. Cedar wardrobes stuffed with fine handmade dresses lined the walls. Hyacinth stood still with her hands at her side.
Isabella gazed at her with jealous eyes and called to her sister. “Blake’s little playmate is here.
Carla strolled into Isabella’s rooms from her adjoining suite. The Creighton sisters circled Hyacinth, admiring her flaxen locks and her haunting blue eyes. Like all Creighton women, Carla and Isabella had straight, black hair. “What I won’t give for tresses like hers,” Isabella said with envy. “How sad such marvelous hair is wasted on a stupid servant girl.”
“I’m not stupid,” Hyacinth protested in a meek voice.
Isabella jabbed Hyacinth with her index finger. “You are stupid if I say you are.”
“Her complexion is perfect,” Carla observed with grudging praise. “Not ruddy, like the others.” Carla peered into Hyacinth submissive face. “She has strange eyes.”
Isabella nodded. “I saw a Fleming once in the village with strange eyes like hers.”
Carla laughed. “We both know this little tramp is no Fleming.”
“I’m not a tramp,” Hyacinth replied.
Carla glanced at Hyacinth’s plain cloth dress. She turned up her contemptuous nose. “Why do you wear these cheap fabrics? I’ve given you dresses from my collection.”
Hyacinth gazed at the floor to avoid Carla’s questioning stare. She answered in a hesitate voice. “Blake forbids me to wear your clothes.”
Carla wagged her finger with a smug grin. “Our little brother doesn’t give us orders.”
“In the Empire he may be a war hero,” Isabella added with a smirk of her own, “But here he is just our little brother. You can wear one of my dresses if I say so.” Isabella tugged Hyacinth toward one of her many open wardrobes. She flipped indifferently through her fabulous dress collection. She snagged a red satin gown and held the dress to Hyacinth’s shoulders. “She would look stunning in this,” Carla said. “Strip away that rag and put this on.”
“But Blake…“
“Don’t worry,” Carla interrupted. “Our little brother is not here. He rode out to meet with the Emperor’s cavalry. He won’t return until sunset.”
Isabella led Hyacinth to a brass cased dressing mirror. She whispered with cruel intent in Hyacinth’s ear. “You can wear this beautiful dress for him. Try it on.”
Hyacinth shook her head. “He may not…“
“I said try it on,” Isabella snapped. “Or I’ll have one of the guards beat you.”
Hyacinth reluctantly disrobed and stood before the mirror wearing nothing but a tattered white undershirt. Isabella and Carla giggled at her tawdry attire. The sisters surrounded Hyacinth and unbuttoned her garment. Carla tugged Hyacinth’s undershirt down to her waist, leaving her breasts exposed. Hyacinth blushed with embarrassment but she dared not protest.
Isabella’s eyes widened with interest. She bounced Hyacinth’s tender breasts in her hands. “No wonder our little brother lusts after this tramp. She has sweet, plump nipples.” Isabella pinched Hyacinth’s nipples hard enough to make her wince. Isabella smiled to see the pain in Hyacinth’s eyes. She released Hyacinth’s nipples and gave each breast a cruel slap.
Isabella whispered into Hyacinth’s ear, “Does my little brother fuck you in the ass? Does he beat you after he cums?” Hyacinth blushed with embarrassment but she dared not speak. Isabella giggled with delight at the red marks she left on Hyacinth’s unprotected breasts.
Carla caressed Hyacinth’s soft hair. She whispered wicked words into Hyacinth‘s other ear. “Do you get on your knees and suck my little brother’s stiff cock? Does he blow all over your face? Does he make you lick it up and swallow?”
Isabella pinched Hyacinth’s ear lobe with her fingernails. A sadistic grin formed on her lips. “Does our little brother whip you? Does he lash you to his bed? Does he bend you over and fuck you like a cheap village whore?”
The cruel words drew a hot blush to Hyacinth’s cheeks. She wanted to cover her breasts, but she dared not anger the powerful Creighton sisters. She stood helpless in front of them unable to protect herself from their mean games.
Carla peeked under Hyacinth’s shirt at her private places. The sadistic sister groped with her rude fingers between Hyacinth’s thighs and probed her unprotected flesh. “Look at her sweet legs,” Carla said to her sister. “I see why Blake made this servant his personal whore.”
Hyacinth covered her breasts with her arms. “I’m not Blake’s whore, I’m his lover.”
The Creighton sisters roared with laughter. “His lover?” Carla mocked. “You little fool.”
“My brother is a man,” Isabella said. “Like all Creighton men, he requires a submissive sex slave to satisfy his perversions.”
Hyacinth’s lips quivered. “I’m not a slave.”
“Of course you are,” Carla jeered. “But don’t let that bother you. Every woman is a slave.”
Isabella kicked Hyacinth’s crumpled dress to the corner. “Put on my gown, let’s see how you look.”
“Blake will whip me if he sees me in this dress,” Hyacinth protested.
“We will whip you if you don’t put it on,” Carla threatened. She grabbed Hyacinth’s hair and hissed in her face. “If we whip you, you will cry for days.”
Hyacinth reluctantly slipped into the red dress. Isabella laced the back and positioned Hyacinth in front of the mirror. Carla grabbed a silver hairbrush and stroked Hyacinth’s locks. Isabella fitted a golden tiara into Hyacinth’s rich hair. “She is fun to dress, isn’t she?” Carla asked with a giggle.
“She is like a real life doll,” Isabella added. “I wish I could rip her eyes out for my own.”
The Creighton sisters admired the servant girl. “If she kept her dumb mouth shut,” Carla observed mockingly. “People would think she is a member of the Imperial Court.”
“Not with those dirty fingernails,” Isabella observed with a vindictive laugh.
Hyacinth glanced at her hands. She curled her fingers into a fist to hide the dirt under her nails. The Creighton sisters sat on Carla’s bed and motioned for Hyacinth to kneel on the floor in front of them.
Carla fetched a wine bottle from her nightstand drawer. She poured a glass for herself and her sister. They sipped their wine and gazed at Hyacinth. “Whatever does she and our brother talk about?” Carla asked. “After he is done fucking her.”
“I can’t imagine he has anything to say to her,” Isabella added scornfully. “He probably falls straight to sleep while she shines his boots.”
Hyacinth glanced at the floor. “Blake tells me about the war.”
“Really?” Carla asked with mocking surprise. “Did he tell you the Emperor’s son is visiting our estate? Did he tell you our father is planning a royal reception? Did he tell you Abigail Steadman will be there?”
“Of course he didn’t tell her,” Isabella laughed. “Blake can’t bring a servant to the dining hall. Everyone would be appalled.”