By the Manor Owned

by Phair

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: See Part 1 for details.
Feedback:p.phair@comcast.net and you can visit my web site at http:www.phair1.com

Part 5

Jordan's long, chilly wait on the front stairs was rewarded when she saw Cory walking toward her. Jumping to her feet, she raced to close the distance between them. They met in a spinning hug that left them both giggling and breathless.
"Seems like you're feeling better," Cory's voice cracked slightly.
"Only because I had a good physician," Jordan kissed him once on each cheek. "You're growing by the week! Look how tall you are?"
"Doc Iversen says the same thing everyday," the boy, who was quickly becoming a young man, shifted awkwardly, "only he ain't so happy about it. I keep getting too big for my clothes."
"I bet we could find something big enough to last a while for you to take back," Jordan had seen too many Masters cruel enough to withhold food to a slave getting too big and too strong too fast.
"That'd be great," Cory smiled broadly. "So, what're you doing out here in the cold?"
"Master Tess said I could help you today. I already went ahead and checked the upper Manor. Nobody's sick or injured. There are the new slaves from the auction that need to be seen. Their all in quarantine. Then there's clinic for the field hands. I don't know how many are there," Jordan listed in a rush. "We should get going. I'll explain as we walk."
"What's the hurry?" Cory felt slightly confused by Jordan's unusually harried manner.
"I'm excited to see you and help out and be outside and, come on, let's get moving," Jordan pulled the boy into a brisk pace toward the quarantine sheds.
The quarantine sheds were kept some distance from the fresh water and permanent housing of the Manor. Its positioning allowed for burning the entire structure to the ground if an outbreak grew too threatening. Likewise, the living spaces were meager and easily replaced; bare, cramped room, narrow cot, thin mattress, thinner blanket, one cup, one bowl. Hardly a place for the fit to pass a few days, the quarantine sheds were a sure death sentence for the unfortunate slave who was truly ill.
Cory had the hulking slave in charge of the sheds unlock the doors one at a time. The physician's apprentice would then examine the inhabitant's hair for lice, eyes, nose, and mouth for infection or sores, listen to the heart and lungs for skipped beats or brewing pneumonia, check hands and feet for limitations. Once Cory was satisfied the quarantined slave was healthy, he gave Jordan the nod to provide food and water while he moved onto the next door.
It was not lost on the young man that Jordan seemed anxious with every lock opened then pretty blonde appeared somewhat disappointed. Her behavior changed when the third to last door opened to reveal a scowling, auburn haired girl. Jordan's cheeks lost their color and a thin line of sweat was obvious on her upper lip.
"Are you ill?" Cory interrupted his examination to ask his friend.
"No, I'm fine," Jordan reassured
Cory accepted Jordan's denial in order to focus on his difficult charge. His duties with the girl were drawn out by her resistance. He coaxed and promised and finally pleaded for her to let him do his job. It took a physical threat from the supervising slave to get the girl to cooperate in the most grudging ways believable.
"She only gets half," the slave in charge reminded Jordan in a gruff voice before moving with Cory to the next door.
"Well, if it isn't the Master's whore?" The girl spit in Jordan's face when she approached with food. "I'd stave before I'd eat by your hand. You're let yourself become nothing more than a filthy bitch in heat for that fucking cunt that owns us."
"Keep your voice down," Jordan cautioned with a frown. "How did you get here? What happened? Why aren't you with your father? He got enough credits from selling me to take care of you until is was time for you to marry. Laney, why are you so far from home."
"Enough credits! Right, except he drank most of it away during the first six months. As for marriage, my only suitor could not come up with enough of a dowry. Father knew he'd get more with the slavers. I guess he didn't want to risk another illegal sale. Sold me the night before my eighteenth birthday," the girl snatched the half filled bowl out of Jordan's hands and began to gobble down the food.
"Easy. Don't eat so fast. You'll get a belly ache," Jordan tried to stroke the filthy hair back from the girl's grimy face.
"Like you care," she pull away from the concerned touch.
"I do care," Jordan felt tears fill her eyes.
"You left me behind, alone, with him!"
"Quiet," Jordan stepped closer with the cup of water. "I had no choice. You should understand more than anybody else. Look, we can't talk about this now. I'll figure out a way to come back."
"Sure you will," the girl deliberately dropped her empty bowl and drained cup at Jordan's feet before sulking back to her cot.
Jordan shut the door and fixed the lock. Her heart nearly broke when it clicked into place. So lost in her own thoughts, Jordan missed the heated sneer of the slave in charge as he mumbled a curse to Cory.
"Jordan," Cory called gently, "you're running behind. Let me help with the food so Earl can get back to his duties.
Jordan nodded her reply. If she had tried to open her mouth, only sobs would have come out.

* * *

Tess believed she was facing a choice of the lesser of two evils. The only two applicants for the position as overseer were in no manner qualified. Applicant number one bragged about killing several slaves during his last assignment. He and the owner of the estate came to blows over the matter of discipline, so he quit. Or, to be more accurate, he said he quit. Tess was quite sure the estate owner would have a different version of the events. The second interviewee had dropped out of the University to get some real life experience. He admitted he had never worked a day in his life. When ask how he would motivate others to work, he merely smiled with a deadly cold air. Tess shook her head at the pathetic options before her.
"Looks like you're a bit lost, my girl," a all too familiar voice boomed from the doorway.
"Silas?" Tess' hands began to shake, "Silas Quimby?"
"One in the same!" The big man thundered into the room. "I hears you're need'n some help."
Tess took a deep breath as she made fleeting eye contact. She had learned early in life not to look directly at her father or this man. Before her stood Togo's right hand man and one of her worst childhood nightmares. He was still an imposing figure at six feet and two hundred pounds even though his hair and beard had gone white. And, in spite of the big grin plastered on his ruddy face, Tess knew him to be a viscous and cruel task master. Memories of beatings long since forgotten raced through her mind.
"I, ah, I thought you went up north," Tess motioned for him to sit as she struggled to maintain her composure.
"That I did. Enjoyed it too but the governor sent for me. Something 'bout that sniveling slave you trusted get'n kilt. Gots me this letter for you to read."
Taking the pages, the shaking in Tess' hand could not be disguised as anything other than fear. Silas snorted a big laugh.
"Don't ya worry. I won't bite you now."
Tess read the letter once. Then she re-read it hoping she was misinterpreting the intent. No amount of twisting or spin could change the governor's demand. He wanted Silas reinstated as the overseer for the Manor. It was not a request. It was an expectation.
"I don't understand," she muttered to the paper.
"Let me be make'n it plain for ya," only a man like Quimby could make a wink obscene. "Governor wants me back here to watch over things. Make sure no unfortunate happen'ns like that fire be repeat'n themselves. Can't be letting the Manor come to ruin now, can we girl."
Tess felt a knot form in her belly. She had felt the sensation so many times over the years in the presence of Silas that she should not have been surprised. Her hand instinctively covered the vulnerable area as she struggled to regain control of the situation.
"But, this is my home. I'm suppose to be Master of the Manor," the claim sounded weak even to her own ears. "I make all decision about the management of the Manor. That was in my father's will and agreed to in the parole agreement."
"No question 'bout that. I'm only gonna make sure your liberal ways don't hurt the governor's profits none." He leaned forward letting out a foul sigh, "Tess, ya bes'n 'member, ya could as easily be Master of a cell if the man who's really in charge don't get his due. I'd be hopin' we sees this eye to eye on this matter. It'll go easier for ya in the long run."
"I won't tolerate you hurting slaves needlessly," Tess found a bit of courage to glare at her tormentor.
"Needlessly?" The flabs of excess flesh around his face flushed instantly with anger, "If'n they're wrong then they're punished. Plain and simple, girl. End of story. And you'd do yourself a kindness watch'n that mouth of your'n. Governor says I'm his agent now. So's ya knows what that be meanin' to your tender hide if you be gettin' out of line on me. You'd do well to think twice and speak the once!"
"Sorry, sir," Tess blurted out quickly as she cringed like a child before his monumental temper.
"I have business need'n my attention in the city. I be back in two days. You introduce me as the new overseer then." He took a moment to enjoy the terror evident on Tess' face, "Now, don't cha be frownin' so. I'll carry the weight of it for a while. You gets to relax with that whore of yours. Start enjoins your position as a Master of leisure. Let me do your worry'n," he stood and stretched before turning to leave.
"Yeah, sure. That'll be a huge weight off my shoulders," Tess muttered after the door slam.

* * *

Vic nearly dragged Jordan back to the Manor. He mumbled something about Master Tess needing to leave immediately but offered no other explanation when he found her in the clinic with Cory. Jordan noticed the normally cocky drunk was remarkably sober. He frequently mopped his sweaty brow as he silently urged her to hurry. Jordan was certain something had really frightened him.
The old truck sat idling at the Manor's steps. Tess was waiting in the driver's seat. Nervous fingers drummed the steering wheel. She leaned across the seat to pop the passenger door open as soon as Jordan approached. Barely waiting for the slave to climb in, Tess shifted gears and sped off.
The trip was made in silence. Tess brooded. Jordan was too fearful to interrupt. When the fishing house came into view, Tess' mood seemed to grow even darker. Jordan worried that Tess might already know about her relationship to the girl in quarantine. The punishment for lying would surely be excruciating.
Tess grabbed Jordan by the arm and yanked her out of the truck without a word. Pulling the slave behind her, she headed straight to the bedroom. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Tess began a frenzied but passionate stripping off of their clothes. Jordan realized only then that the silence was due to lust and not anger.
"I need you," Tess moaned as she dropped to her knees before Jordan.
Jordan stroked the dark head buried between her legs.
"You own me," she reassured. "Take what's yours."

* * *

Jordan woke when the warmth of their bed began to chill. Scrubbing open her eyes, she searched for her lover; her Master. Tess' beautiful body glistened in the fire light. The naked woman knelt to stoke the growing flames in the fire place.
"I can make you hotter than any fire."
"That may be true but I don't want to freeze to death when we pass out in total exhaustion," Tess flashed a sad smile over her shoulder.
"Let the fire take care of itself." Jordan persisted as she lifted the blankets in an open invitation, "Come back to bed, come back to me. I need you."
Tess sighed as she gave one last push to the log on top with the poker. She returned to the bed with heavy feet. Jordan pulled her into a hug and snuggled the blankets around them. Tess stole a few extra minutes to enjoy the comfort of loving arms before facing the facts.
"We need to talk," Tess felt the blonde head nod against her breast. "The governor has ordered me to hire Togo's favorite Task Master to oversee the Manor. His name is Quimby; Silas Quimby. A vicious son of a bitch. He's a ruthless womanizer, liar, and cheat. And he starts in two days."
"Do they know we stole the harvest?" Jordan questioned from her perch on Tess' chest.
"Not yet but Quimby will figure it out soon enough. He's a clever bastard," Tess kissed the top of Jordan's head. "Once he has proof, I'll be sent back to prison and the ManorŠ,"
"What are you going to do?" Jordan sat up slightly to look in Tess' tear filled eyes.
"I was thinking that I," Tess could not look at the woman she loved, "you know, to save you, I would, should sell youŠ,"
"WHAT?!"
"You know, back to Iggie," Tess hurried to explain. "You'll be safe with him."
"Sell me away?" Jordan gasped in absolute horror.
"Iggie will take care of you," Tess tried to soothe the slave by stroking her flanks.
"Oh yes, he'll take great care of a throw away whore! I'll be blowing cock until my teeth fall out," Jordan sat up to face Tess head on. "Unless I slit my wrists first."
"Don't talk like that!" Tess grabbed Jordan by the shoulders and shook her gently. "Iggie runs a clean house. It's the only thing I can do to protect you. Jordan, can't you understand that I'm probably going to prison for the rest of my life in the next few weeks. Have some pity on me. Don't leave your blood on my hands."
"Tess," Jordan reached out to cup her Master's cheek, "protecting me is not the priority. Protecting the Manor isn't either. Once you believed in freeing the slaves. Maybe the time is now to try again. I mean, Isn't it better to die for what you believe in than to live your life in a prison of fear. There are other options besides surrendering."
"Like what?" Tess was stumped.
"A slave revolt."
"Just saying that is treason. The standard punishment is death by impaling," Tess thought she might get physically ill at the idea. "Never mind that the last time I tried to start a revolution, I only managed to get caught and my friends were sent off to hard labor."
"Yeah but last time," Jordan pushed Tess back down on the bed and slid her thigh between her Master's legs, "you didn't have me by your side."
"And that's gonna make a difference?" Tess grunted as her sex responded to Jordan's gentle thrusts.
"Yeah, this time you're not alone," Jordan whispered as she stole a kiss from Tess. "It'll make all the difference having something to lose andŠ,"
"Šsomething to win?" Tess moaned as Jordan answered her question.

* * *

"Will you send in your guards to take the Manor if she doesn't," Tosca grunted as the short whip struck his bare ass, "agree to appoint Quimby as overseer?"
"Not just the guards," the governor grinned as the leather tore another line across his slave's bottom. "I plan to send in government troops. After all, she is a paroled felon. Tess could be a threat to the federated states if not kept under careful control."
Another crack of the whip landed on the naked slave's rear. Sprawled, spread eagle on his Master's bed, Tosca was losing his battle not to dry hump the mattress. Each strike made him buck his hips which rubbed his angry erection against the soft, satin sheets. His urge to surrender to his deepest desire was almost unbearable.
"Please Master," another snap of the whip brought him to the threshold of spilling his load, "just an hour with the bitch. I'll promise anything for revenge against my dear sister."
"Oh, you'll have more than an hour with her and the little slave she likes to fuck so much." The governor dropped the whip to massage Tosca hot bottom cheeks. "Tell me, slave, do you want me? Do you want your Master's attention?"
"Please," Tosca begged when he felt the weepy tip of the governor's penis tease his black hole, "please fuck me, Master."
"Who's my bitch?"
"I am. Me. I am."
"Don't worry," the governor groaned as he drove himself into Tosca's darkness, "soon your sister will be too!"

TBC

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