August 23, 1893
It has been twelve days since I last saw him. I keep looking back on that night and am still confused and shocked by what happened. I am still basically a prisoner in my room, though I am familiar with every inch of the room and every scene out my window. I found what looks to be a hidden doorway, though there seems to be no way through it. There are even some of the bizarre things in the room like what he used that night, though I refuse to touch those. I still do not know what Mr. Dalton wants with me. I have stopped drinking anything but water. It seems every time I drank the wine, I would lose time, and never knew what happened. I look out the window a lot. I read too, though some of the literature in this room has very graphic depictions of acts I am sure a lady is to have nothing to do with. I have not read any of those books, but I may have to begin reading the ones I have already read again.
I sometimes wonder how the people and nuns are doing at the orphanage; they are the only family I have much memory of. Have any of the little girls been adopted, like so many. I was never interviewed as a child for adoption; I guess I was just so plain. Many of the girls always said that I had the good looks a man would want, just curvy enough, but not too heavy. My eyes are my favorite feature, tree shades of blue. The darkest color of blue is on the outside of the iris, and the lightest ringing the pupil. Here I am, just past my 18th birthday, and I am still not married. I am, however, not virgin anymore, and will most likely never be married. Maybe someone will want me; maybe I will end up in the streets like so many other rejected girls from the orphanage.
I wonder sometimes, after remembering what happened my first night here, if I should have taken the orphanage’s advice and just become a nun. It would have been certainly less humiliating. Unfortunately, I am headstrong and never took the best advice ever given to me. Would I have even made a good nun? Sometimes the nuns told me that I was too defiant, and that I didn’t think the rules would apply to me. I guess that is how I got myself locked in a bedroom in Colorado, fucked like a horse, and debased nearly daily by the hired help.
I had my monthly course. It is always a relief when it is over. Today is the first day that I have not had the cramps and the blood is gone. Mary told me that it just means I am not pregnant. She also said if I were pregnant, Mr. Dalton would leave me alone, but I think he’s done that already. At the orphanage, they always told us not to mention them, it’s un-lady like, but they are so uncomfortable and painful. It seems the heat of my room has only increased my discomfort.
Mary still brings my meals, while she has the tendency to ramble on and on about body parts and what can be done with them. Somehow I have the feeling that she’s experienced in the area of human bodies, but I seriously don’t think she’s a physician. Mr. Freedman comes in every day to ask me questions about my health and needs, all the while looking at me as if I will be his next meal. Mr. Freedman also selects the dress I am to wear for the day, whether or not I will be let out of my room.
My supper tray was brought in moments ago, no water, and laden with salt. There is the wine I can drink, but I am having doubts about the drink. Will I starve if I don’t get water? Surely not. Mary said that I was to eat the entire contents of the tray, or I would receive punishment. I keep thinking back to my first night here… Was that punishment? Did I do something to deserve punishment in the little time I was here before dinner?
My dress today is no better than the others I have been supplied. I am still not allowed to wear my hair up, and am forced to brush unmanageable brown mass multiple times a day. It is curly and unruly, and would look so much better trained in a bun. It is nearly to my behind now, and takes so much time to brush. Sometimes I have the feeling I am being watched, but that’s not possible. Tonight’s dress is a burgundy color with a black shawl and bodice. The bodice is still low and revealing of my cleavage. I imagine this dress is something a girl in a saloon would wear, but I can’t say for sure. I am still required to keep my sensitive areas bare. Mary’s job is to help me with that every other day. I fear I have to eat because I have put it off as long as I can, Mary will be back for my tray soon.
Amanda Rain
“Amanda, Amanda?” a familiar, distant voice asked. “Amanda, it’s time to get up now.” She slowly opened her eyes, only to find herself in a room she’d never seen before. It looked to be a library, and it was many hours past the time she ate dinner. It was already dark outside.
She looked around the library, and she couldn’t find who was speaking. Finally, her eyes adjusted to the candlelit dimness. “Amanda, you are in this room tonight to learn about your function here.” Mr. Dalton explained. “I have many reasons for you to be here, primarily for you to produce my heir. Don’t look so shocked. I am not old, but I am not young either. I will need time to teach the child to run my operations here, as well as in several other areas. You are here to fulfill my needs, and as such, you will be treated well, and will never be hurt. But, as we decided, it will take more than once to get you pregnant. When you are with child, I may marry you to make you a respectable lady, not that it matters out here. You do not remember me, but I have known you for a long time, and have waited for this for many years.”
Amanda felt overwhelmed. She didn’t know what to say or do. The thought of being forced to carry someone’s child just didn’t sit well with her. She couldn’t imagine her petite body filled with another being. She had also heard childbirth was painful, and the larger the woman, the better the labor went. She didn’t feel qualified to give birth. She had always imagined herself with children, but she always figured once she was established, she would adopt one or two orphans, to make them feel loved.
“I was there when your parents died. I was unable to save them, but I was able to pull you from the house. I left when I saw the preacher’s carriage pulling up. You were only two years old, and were so small. You didn’t even know your last name. It was such a shame to see your mother die, but I had no regrets for your father.” He waited for a response for her. After a few moments of thick silence, she finally asked “why did you wish my father dead?”
He laughed a deep laugh, one that shook her nerves. “Your father is the very reason I still need an heir. It is the very oldest and longest arguments of men, I fell in love with your mother, and she fell in love with your father. You have no idea how much you look like her. You hair, your eyes, your coloring…. You will always remind me of your mother, but you will always remind me of your father too.” A few moments later he continued. “Amanda, I kept track of you over the years. I made a trip to the orphanage twice a year to check on you. I saw what a beauty you would be. I kept in touch with the orphanage and was informed you were seeking employment. I managed to have Sister Agatha screen your mail so you would get no other offers but from me. As you can see, it worked. She did inform me though, that you were highly desirable in the local area.”
“Sir, why do you want me? Why couldn’t you find someone else?”
“Amanda, I admit you became my obsession. No one else will do. Sure, I have had the occasional whore, Mary was hired for her, ahh, expertise, but now that you are here, I will not need her services. I have, however, agreed to keep her on to help instruct, care for, and prepare you. Since she has delivered other whore’s children, she will assist in delivering yours and mine.”
Shocked and needing to pace, she made to get up. She found that once again, her helpless state was taken advantage of, and she was hopelessly attached to the chair.
