Excellent Historical Fiction/contest Claire by cupa tea Historical Fiction contest entry

“That’s 20 lashes!” the Master called out to the crowd gathered around the slave who was getting a whipping for talking back to his Master. The year was 1705 in Virginia. Black persons were considered slaves. The black crowd gathered around the punishment stake said nothing. All knew better then to talk back or even show tears. As the last lashes were cast out, a wagon’s approach could be heard in the distance. The Master glanced in the direction and dismissed all the slaves to the various chores they were assigned to do. The slave on the whipping pole remained there until after the Master left. A slave would release him and tend to his wounds. The Master, Mr. Churchtree, approached the road awaiting the wagon. Upon it he knew he’d find the lovely slave he’d purchased that morning at auction. The image of her slender body flashed across his mind. Her legs were long and sexy. Her body was trim and fit. Most likely from all the cotton she either help plant or picked. Her hair was long and curly. Even her nose was sexy he thought. The wagon pulled up and the driver climbed down. “Your cargo is in the back,” he informed Mr. Churchtree. “We’ve collared her just in case she thinks she can escape.” He opened the back and dropped the gate. A lightly colored black woman sat on the floor of the wagon with a dog collar around her neck with a dog leash attached to it. Her clothing was a simply white dress covered in holes and dirt. Her long black hair covered most of her body with only a fragment of the dirty and torn dress showing. Upon her feet were shoes with the soles tied to the shoe several times to keep them together. “Thank you,” Mr. Churchtree told the gentleman as he handed him the leash. “We often treated her like a dog,” the delivery man told him. “Simply because she acts like one.” She climbed down from the wagon and stood as if at attention towards Mr. Churchtree. He found her appearance striking. She was truly a beautiful black woman. Her skin color was slightly lighter than those of her race that’d he’d seen. But, he liked this version of her skin tone. It added appeal. He stopped gazing at her and simply started walking. She followed. The wagon drove off leaving a dusty trail after it. Mr. Churchtree just smiled. He singled to one of the ladies in waiting he kept in the house. “Take her inside, get her bathed and dressed with proper shoes as well.” He handed the leash to the slave and walked away. ------------------ Time passed and rumors about slaves escaping their Masters rushed between the servants he commanded. An underground railroad was the main topic of conversation when out of his ear shot. None of his slaves cared for him but knew better then to talk back. So, they just did as they were told and waited for the time they’d try to escape. They already knew that if they did escape they had to make it to the underground railroad right away. Anyone Harboring slaves within their house hold or on their property would be sentenced. The punishment was possible enslavement for the giver or 100 lashes whichever the law decided upon. If the slave was caught there was a pretty big reward for the finder and a pretty large punishment for the slave. Most slaves had decided not to try to escape. They didn’t want the party helping them to get punished should they be found and some were to old and disabled to take the chance. Claire, however, was interested in escape. She didn’t like the way Mr. Churchtree watched her. She felt as if he were removing her rags with his eyes. One day he was sure to do just that and how could she refuse him. She had always been told she didn’t have the right to refuse anything a white Master wanted to do to her against her will. Days passed. Weeks turned into months and finally the day came. “Claire,” Mr. Churchtree said to her. “We need to have a private discussion.” He motioned towards his private office. She walked swiftly as she didn’t wanna anger him. She’d seen him give out lashings and none of them were nice. One of the male slaves had died from a lashing given by him only a few weeks prior to this meeting. It wasn’t against the law for him to beat him to death for any given reason. Slaves had no rights just like dogs and cats. She slipped into the office and turned as he entered a little too closely behind her. He shut the door. “Claire,” he said and smiled at her. “You are a pretty thing.” He ran his fingers down along the side of her cheek. She said nothing. Instead, she found herself trying desperately not to shake. His hands were cold and cruel. They carried marks with scares from all the lashing he’d given to his servants. He reached back behind her ear and let his hands glide down her hair. “You know,” he reasoned as he stepped even closer to her. Her lips were within inches of his. “We should get you some combs for your hair and some nicer clothing.” Hmm...he backed away and she found herself catching her breath which she didn’t realize that she’d been holding. “I’m thinking of making you the upstairs servant.” He turned and then turned back just to see how she’d react. She held herself still. “And if I give you that job I will expect you to present yourself decently. Bathed clean, with nice clothing and good manners.” He walked up to her again even closer. His aftershave was a scent she was sure she’d never in her life forget. It smelled like cow poop! He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her so close to his body that his hardness poked through and pressed against her leg. She held herself stiff. Barely breathing. “For a black woman,” he whispered into her ear. “I find you very desirable.” There was a pause for a moment and when he was about to speak again there came a tapping at the door. He pushed her aside and called out. “Enter!” Molly walked into the room. Her face showed her fear, but nonetheless she had to address the Master. “Downstairs,” she said with hesitation in her voice. “A slave under your care,” she paused a moment longer, “has been caught trying to escape.” Claire took a soft deep breath. Jason had asked her to go with him and she’d refused feeling that this attempt wouldn’t go well. It was in the day light and with white people she was unsure really wanted to help. Mr. Churchtree said nothing just left the room, slamming the door after him. “We should get ourselves ready,” Molly said softly. Tiny tears started to roll down her face and fall off her chin to the floor. Claire just nodded. There'd be a lashing. One to the death she figured. Everyone was required to attend. ----------- Claire watched as the last lash was slapped across Jason’s back. For the moment it was unclear if he’s survive or not. The Master was tired from the beating and it showed on his face. He dropped the whip, turned and started walking away. “Put the body where the pigs can’t get it,” he instructed the slaves who would be entrusted to dispose of the body should he die. “It makes the pig meat less desirable to eat.” Nothing was said. The couple who’d turned Jason in hung back along the road. They seemed ready to flee themselves. What was done was done. It was over now. Jason’s body was removed from the whipping pole and carried to a quiet place away from the work area. Jason wasn’t talking. He was barely breathing. Everyone knew Master had intended him to die. Should he live he would need to stay at a far distance from the Master so he didn’t realize he had not died. All was not lost yet. ----------------- Word came again. Down the road, a new section of the underground railroad had been established. Claire listened with interest when word was passed around about how to reach it’s entrance. She knew she had to go soon. Mr. Churchtree, the Master, was giving her the idea that soon he would make her his own and surly children would be created only to be turned into slaves such as herself. The idea of offspring forced to serve a Master was not acceptable to Claire. Tonight, she promised herself. Tonight was the night. She spread word that she wanted to run tonight. The answer came back that tonight wasn’t favorable. To many white Master’s on the road for a coming party. Tomorrow was given as the favorable date. Claire could do nothing but agree. She attended to her chores and stayed far away and out of site of the Master. His hungry looks haunted her day in and night out. The idea of his pawing hands upon her body made her feel ill. She prayed that tomorrow wouldn’t be too late. The day passed without any events worth remembering and Claire found herself up the next morning bright and early and attending to whatever the wishes of Mr. Churchtree. Molly glanced her way as she walked down the hallway. Clean sheets for the Master’s bed in her hands. She stopped Claire. “Master said you must change the sheets on his bed.” She handed them over to Claire. Both women looked at each other with frowns on their faces. Each had an idea what this meant. Time wasn’t going to be on Claire’s side. She said nothing. She simply took the sheets and entered the room as instructed. Upon entry she noticed Mr. Churchtree just finishing buttoning up his shirt. He smiled when he saw her. “I’ve got things to attend to today. Make sure you clean this room spotless and before I return home.” He moved over to the closet and withdrew a fancy night dress designed for white ladies of the night. It had openings in all the right places for hands to roam across favorite body parts. “You will be here at night fall wearing this.” He handed the garment to her and walked out of the room. It had begun… “That’s 20 lashes!” the Master called out to the crowd gathered around the slave who was getting a whipping for talking back to his Master. The year was 1705 in Virginia. Black persons were considered slaves. The black crowd gathered around the punishment stake said nothing. All knew better then to talk back or even show tears. As the last lashes were cast out, a wagon’s approach could be heard in the distance. The Master glanced in the direction and dismissed all the slaves to the various chores they were assigned to do. The slave on the whipping pole remained there until after the Master left. A slave would release him and tend to his wounds. The Master, Mr. Churchtree, approached the road awaiting the wagon. Upon it he knew he’d find the lovely slave he’d purchased that morning at auction. The image of her slender body flashed across his mind. Her legs were long and sexy. Her body was trim and fit. Most likely from all the cotton she either help plant or picked. Her hair was long and curly. Even her nose was sexy he thought. The wagon pulled up and the driver climbed down. “Your cargo is in the back,” he informed Mr. Churchtree. “We’ve collared her just in case she thinks she can escape.” He opened the back and dropped the gate. A lightly colored black woman sat on the floor of the wagon with a dog collar around her neck with a dog leash attached to it. Her clothing was a simply white dress covered in holes and dirt. Her long black hair covered most of her body with only a fragment of the dirty and torn dress showing. Upon her feet were shoes with the soles tied to the shoe several times to keep them together. “Thank you,” Mr. Churchtree told the gentleman as he handed him the leash. “We often treated her like a dog,” the delivery man told him. “Simply because she acts like one.” She climbed down from the wagon and stood as if at attention towards Mr. Churchtree. He found her appearance striking. She was truly a beautiful black woman. Her skin color was slightly lighter than those of her race that’d he’d seen. But, he liked this version of her skin tone. It added appeal. He stopped gazing at her and simply started walking. She followed. The wagon drove off leaving a dusty trail after it. Mr. Churchtree just smiled. He singled to one of the ladies in waiting he kept in the house. “Take her inside, get her bathed and dressed with proper shoes as well.” He handed the leash to the slave and walked away. ------------------ Time passed and rumors about slaves escaping their Masters rushed between the servants he commanded. An underground railroad was the main topic of conversation when out of his ear shot. None of his slaves cared for him but knew better then to talk back. So, they just did as they were told and waited for the time they’d try to escape. They already knew that if they did escape they had to make it to the underground railroad right away. Anyone Harboring slaves within their house hold or on their property would be sentenced. The punishment was possible enslavement for the giver or 100 lashes whichever the law decided upon. If the slave was caught there was a pretty big reward for the finder and a pretty large punishment for the slave. Most slaves had decided not to try to escape. They didn’t want the party helping them to get punished should they be found and some were to old and disabled to take the chance. Claire, however, was interested in escape. She didn’t like the way Mr. Churchtree watched her. She felt as if he were removing her rags with his eyes. One day he was sure to do just that and how could she refuse him. She had always been told she didn’t have the right to refuse anything a white Master wanted to do to her against her will. Days passed. Weeks turned into months and finally the day came. “Claire,” Mr. Churchtree said to her. “We need to have a private discussion.” He motioned towards his private office. She walked swiftly as she didn’t wanna anger him. She’d seen him give out lashings and none of them were nice. One of the male slaves had died from a lashing given by him only a few weeks prior to this meeting. It wasn’t against the law for him to beat him to death for any given reason. Slaves had no rights just like dogs and cats. She slipped into the office and turned as he entered a little too closely behind her. He shut the door. “Claire,” he said and smiled at her. “You are a pretty thing.” He ran his fingers down along the side of her cheek. She said nothing. Instead, she found herself trying desperately not to shake. His hands were cold and cruel. They carried marks with scares from all the lashing he’d given to his servants. He reached back behind her ear and let his hands glide down her hair. “You know,” he reasoned as he stepped even closer to her. Her lips were within inches of his. “We should get you some combs for your hair and some nicer clothing.” Hmm...he backed away and she found herself catching her breath which she didn’t realize that she’d been holding. “I’m thinking of making you the upstairs servant.” He turned and then turned back just to see how she’d react. She held herself still. “And if I give you that job I will expect you to present yourself decently. Bathed clean, with nice clothing and good manners.” He walked up to her again even closer. His aftershave was a scent she was sure she’d never in her life forget. It smelled like cow poop! He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her so close to his body that his hardness poked through and pressed against her leg. She held herself stiff. Barely breathing. “For a black woman,” he whispered into her ear. “I find you very desirable.” There was a pause for a moment and when he was about to speak again there came a tapping at the door. He pushed her aside and called out. “Enter!” Molly walked into the room. Her face showed her fear, but nonetheless she had to address the Master. “Downstairs,” she said with hesitation in her voice. “A slave under your care,” she paused a moment longer, “has been caught trying to escape.” Claire took a soft deep breath. Jason had asked her to go with him and she’d refused feeling that this attempt wouldn’t go well. It was in the day light and with white people she was unsure really wanted to help. Mr. Churchtree said nothing just left the room, slamming the door after him. “We should get ourselves ready,” Molly said softly. Tiny tears started to roll down her face and fall off her chin to the floor. Claire just nodded. There'd be a lashing. One to the death she figured. Everyone was required to attend. ----------- Claire watched as the last lash was slapped across Jason’s back. For the moment it was unclear if he’s survive or not. The Master was tired from the beating and it showed on his face. He dropped the whip, turned and started walking away. “Put the body where the pigs can’t get it,” he instructed the slaves who would be entrusted to dispose of the body should he die. “It makes the pig meat less desirable to eat.” Nothing was said. The couple who’d turned Jason in hung back along the road. They seemed ready to flee themselves. What was done was done. It was over now. Jason’s body was removed from the whipping pole and carried to a quiet place away from the work area. Jason wasn’t talking. He was barely breathing. Everyone knew Master had intended him to die. Should he live he would need to stay at a far distance from the Master so he didn’t realize he had not died. All was not lost yet. ----------------- Word came again. Down the road, a new section of the underground railroad had been established. Claire listened with interest when word was passed around about how to reach it’s entrance. She knew she had to go soon. Mr. Churchtree, the Master, was giving her the idea that soon he would make her his own and surly children would be created only to be turned into slaves such as herself. The idea of offspring forced to serve a Master was not acceptable to Claire. Tonight, she promised herself. Tonight was the night. She spread word that she wanted to run tonight. The answer came back that tonight wasn’t favorable. To many white Master’s on the road for a coming party. Tomorrow was given as the favorable date. Claire could do nothing but agree. She attended to her chores and stayed far away and out of site of the Master. His hungry looks haunted her day in and night out. The idea of his pawing hands upon her body made her feel ill. She prayed that tomorrow wouldn’t be too late. The day passed without any events worth remembering and Claire found herself up the next morning bright and early and attending to whatever the wishes of Mr. Churchtree. Molly glanced her way as she walked down the hallway. Clean sheets for the Master’s bed in her hands. She stopped Claire. “Master said you must change the sheets on his bed.” She handed them over to Claire. Both women looked at each other with frowns on their faces. Each had an idea what this meant. Time wasn’t going to be on Claire’s side. She said nothing. She simply took the sheets and entered the room as instructed. Upon entry she noticed Mr. Churchtree just finishing buttoning up his shirt. He smiled when he saw her. “I’ve got things to attend to today. Make sure you clean this room spotless and before I return home.” He moved over to the closet and withdrew a fancy night dress designed for white ladies of the night. It had openings in all the right places for hands to roam across favorite body parts. “You will be here at night fall wearing this.” He handed the garment to her and walked out of the room. It had begun…

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