by Alta Hensley
“You should have done that before. Now hurry along. It’s getting crowded downstairs, and I need to be there in case it gets rowdy.” When she didn’t move, he nodded toward the bed. “Come on, Della. You know you did this to yourself.”
Silently admitting defeat, she sighed and walked toward the bed. Staring at her floral quilt, she did as he asked, feeling the cool air against her bottom as she lowered her drawers and bent over the bed with her red petticoat flaring out around her. Her face heated with embarrassment. Gabriel had punished her before several times, and he had definitely seen her bare behind, but she still couldn’t help feel the shame of having to be thrashed like a naughty school child.
She cringed when she heard the swoosh of the leather strap being removed from his pants. Gabriel wasn’t one to go easy. When he was asked to deliver a punishment, it was always worse than if he decided to do it himself. Often enough, Della had heard the sound of leather striking naughty behinds of the gems and their cries, and she really did try her best to avoid such a wrath from Gabriel.
“Before I tan your backside, I want to make sure you understand why I am giving you this lickin’. Do you?”
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled against her mattress. “I was given strict instructions from Madame Jewel and Miss Nettie, and I didn’t follow them.”
The first lash of the leather cracked against her flesh without mercy. Della bit down against the pain and balled the petticoat into her fists to fight the urge to cry out. But when the second and then third whip of the leather made contact, she couldn’t hold back from crying out.
“Ow! Oh, I’m so sorry!” If there was ever a time to start coughing, it would be now. Maybe if she had another coughing spell, he would go lightly on her. But her cough had decided to betray her and remain deep within her chest.
“Stick out your bottom,” was his only response.
She did so and was only rewarded with another, and then another whip of the unforgiving leather. The spanking continued on as Della cried out. Tears ran down her face as her bottom heated to an inferno.
“Naughty gems get spanked. You know this, Citrine.” Gabriel only called her by her gem name ‘Citrine’ when she was on the floor or getting punished. All it took was him calling her Citrine in a warning voice to have her stop whatever she was doing right then and there. She loved Gabriel, but he was not one to disobey. The ass whoopin’ she was receiving this very moment reaffirmed that belief.
“Gabriel, I can’t! It hurts!” she cried out, not caring that paying customers could hear her pleas as they took their pleasure in her fellow gems’ rooms up and down the hall from hers. Returning customers probably didn’t think anything of it. The Red Petticoat Saloon was well known and well respected for having polite, classy, obedient and well-behaved gems working for it. An errant gem was handled swiftly and at times, severely if needed. Della just prayed that this was not one of those times Gabriel felt it necessary to handle the situation severely.
She lost count after the tenth or so swat, the intensity becoming too much. She had had enough spankings from Gabriel to know that if he went over ten swats, then his intention was to make sure the punished gem would feel it the next day. So once he passed the tenth swat, Della knew she was in for a real blistering.
After five more lashes of the leather, Gabriel tossed it to the side and began peppering her upturned behind with his wide palm. Gabriel didn’t need a paddle or spoon; his hand had the exact same effect. Over and over he spanked, making sure he covered every inch that the strap had missed.
“Is your naughty bottom on fire?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She followed her words with sobs, hoping he would take pity on her, but knowing that Gabriel didn’t stop until he felt the punishment would be remembered for quite some time. He didn’t like spanking the gems on a continual basis. So, if he had to spank one, he made darn sure it would be a long time until he had to ‘remind’ the gem to behave again. After tonight, Della would ‘remember’ for quite awhile.
Over and over, he reddened her cheeks until mercifully the punishment came to an end. Gabriel adjusted her drawers and petticoat to cover her and helped her to a sitting position, even though the last thing she wanted to do was sit on her bottom.
“Now, get in that bed, Citrine. If I catch you on the floor again, I will make sure you can’t sit for a week.”
“Yes, sir.” She sniffed and wiped at her tears.
He bent to kiss her forehead. “I’ll have Nettie bring you some supper. Stay in bed until morning,” he said. He walked toward the door and then paused, turning around to add, “We all worry about you and only have your best interest at heart. We can’t have you getting sicker than you already are. We care about you, Citrine.”
Chapter Two
Hot. Everything was so hot. So incredibly hot, and yet her body shook so hard her teeth rattled. She couldn’t swallow. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and the cracks of her chapped lips seemed to weave within each other, sealing them closed forever. Della fluttered her eyelids to see blurry figures looming over her. Were they demons to take her away? Was she in Hell? Yes, she had to be. It was the only explanation to why her body melted against the bed. She heard a moan, then another. Every time she heard the moan, her chest vibrated, making the moan grow even louder. The blurry figures above mumbled, but she couldn’t understand. She was just too hot. Sleep. Sleep was her only option to ease the pain…
It was a cough that woke her from her slumber. Her body drenched in sweat, she could barely move her head. She hurt, but at least she wasn’t as hot as before. It felt like a hundred-pound weight rested on her chest.
“Della, child. Della, open your eyes for Nettie.”
She could hear the voice lucidly now, and when she opened her eyes, she could see clearly again as well.
“Nettie,” she rasped. “I’m so thirsty. My head, my body. I ache.”
“Here.” Jewel came from the other side of the bed with a cup of water and placed it to her lips. “Drink this.”
Both women assisted Della in lifting her head to take a drink of the cooling liquid. The water helped ease the thorns that had taken root in her throat.
“You gave us quite the scare,” Nettie informed her. “Your skin turned to fire. Dr. Norwood told us you would be lucky to survive the night.” Nettie placed a damp cloth on Della’s forehead the moment her head hit the pillow after taking another drink. “That fever came on fast and furious.”
“Doctor?” She looked around but didn’t see the doctor in the room. “Fever? I don’t need a doctor. I just have a cough.”
“You could have died. I’ve never seen you so sick,” Jewel said as she assisted Della in taking another drink. Her blue eyes appeared dull with exhaustion and concern. “I’ve seen fevers much lower than yours kill people before. We really thought we could lose you.”
“I came upstairs to check on you for supper last night, and the fever had taken hold. You are a lucky girl to be here right now,” Nettie said with worry washed all over her face. Dark circles and red-rimmed eyes, made it appear Nettie had been up for days. It stabbed at Della’s heart that she had worried Nettie and Jewel so much. They didn’t deserve to have such an obligation in their lives.
“Dr. Norwood will be back later this evening, but he wants to make sure you drink and rest,” Jewel added.
Della nodded and closed her eyes. She couldn’t have put up any resistance if she wanted to.
She slept off and on for the rest of the day. Coughing was always the culprit that caused her to wake. Each time she awoke, either Nettie or Jewel was by her bed. Even Gabe stood over her bedside at one time. Della wanted to tell them to go about their day and not worry about her, but she didn’t have the strength to do much more than take a sip of water. As the sun began to set, Della actually felt well enough to allow Nettie to help attend to her personal needs. Putting weight on her legs wasn’t exactly easy, but Della could see it made Nettie happy that she could at least do that.
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As Nettie assisted her back into bed, Della said, “Thank you, Nettie. I feel awful keeping you away from your cooking and such. I feel like such a burden.”
“Hush now, girl. There ain’t nothing more important than you right now.”
Tears threatened to fall, but she did her best to keep them at bay. “I don’t know what happened. I had a cough, and that was it. I was a little tired, so I took a nap like you suggested, and that is the last I can remember clearly.”
The sound of heavy boots against wood pulled her attention to the doorway of her room which had been left ajar. Standing in the entryway was Dr. Anson Norwood, someone Della had managed to keep her distance from up until now. She didn’t want a doctor. There was nothing he could say or do that would take her cough away. She had seen several in her lifetime, and all they did was take whatever hard-earned money she had straight out of her coin purse.
“How’s my patient today?” he asked as he entered the room. “Gabe told me downstairs that you woke up.” He smiled and placed his palm on Della’s sweaty forehead. “I’m happy to see that you may have fought off the worst of it. Either the fever was going to take you, or you were going to fight it. I’m glad you chose to fight it.”
Della’s only response was a cough.
“She’s doing much better,” Nettie informed him. “She’s taken in some water and stood to take care of her business on her own.”
Dr. Norwood nodded. “How has her cough been?”
“Dying down a bit,” Nettie answered.
Della hated that they were talking about her as if she had no voice, but in all reality, she didn’t have one since every time she opened her mouth, it seemed she coughed or at least wanted to.
Doctor Norwood placed his black doctor’s bag on the table beside the bed and pulled out a piece of wood. “Can you open your mouth for me, Della?”
Della silently did as he asked, allowing him to press her tongue down with the wood as he peered into the back of her throat.
“It looks mighty raw. Does it hurt?”
She nodded. Hurt would be an understatement. It felt as if someone had scraped the flesh off with a dull knife.
Nettie peered in Della’s mouth herself before saying, “Child, I’m going to leave you with the doctor here so I can check on my gumbo. I won’t be gone long, but supper time is near.”
Dr. Norwood glanced up at Nettie. “Go on ahead. It would be a shame for you to singe your famous gumbo. If you don’t mind, I may just stay and sample some for myself.”
Nettie smiled and patted the doctor’s shoulder. “You do that. I made plenty.” She smiled at Della and quickly left the room.
Doctor Norwood turned his attention back to Della. “All right. So why don’t you tell me what happened.”
“I have a cough.”
“And?”
“And what? I cough.”
He pulled over a chair and sat down right beside her. “How long have you had a cough?”
“All my life.” She thought about lying, but figured that Gabe or Jewel had already filled him in on her condition. “Or at least as long as I can remember.”
“Do you usually get a fever and fall this ill?”
“Not usually. Once in a while, I get really sick. But mostly I just cough really bad. It comes and goes. Sometimes it is bad, and sometimes it is only if I get worked up, or overly tired. Sometimes the dusty streets almost suffocate me.” She started coughing as if to prove her point.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a small glass bottle and a spoon. Pouring the liquid onto the spoon, he brought it to her mouth. “Open up. This will help ease the cough and mend the back of your throat.”
Della did as he asked and grimaced when the bitter flavor hit the tip of her tongue.
He placed the spoon and bottle on the bedside. “You can take more every few hours as long as the cough persists.”
She nodded, and even though she didn’t like the taste, it did seem to already be soothing some of the fire that burned in the back of her throat.
“How long have you been at The Red Petticoat?” He fumbled in his bag, clearly looking for something.
“Since it opened,” was her raspy reply.
He looked at her with surprise. His brow furrowed. “Then why have I never seen you? If you have had this cough like you said, why was I never brought in to attend you?”
“I never saw the point. I’ve seen doctors before, and there isn’t much that can be done.”
His hazel eyes seemed to darken and his jaw clenched. In a deep and firm voice he said, “Is it not possible that I could be different? That I could indeed help you in some way? What you have done is very foolish. Your condition is serious, Della, and if last night proved anything, it should show you that you could have died.”
“A gem doesn’t exactly make a lot of money. Or at least not a sickly one. I don’t get to work the same amount of hours and days as the other gems. Although your services may have been needed, they aren’t exactly free, Dr. Norwood,” she said in her own defense, feeling uncomfortable by his obvious anger. “And it’s not like I have something that can be fixed by a doctor. I’ve had it all my life and not a soul can take away my curse.”
He focused his attention back to his bag and pulled out a thermometer. “Roll over on your tummy. I can see that your fever broke, but I want to see how much.”
Della sighed. She knew all about having her temperature taken and hated every single time it occurred. But she also knew enough to know that arguing, whining or resisting in any way would be futile, and frankly, she didn’t have the energy to be difficult. So grimacing as she did so, she rolled over and pulled up her nightdress to expose her bare behind.
Cool hands caressed her flesh for a moment. “What are these marks, Della?”
“Marks?” She wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
“It appears as if you were whipped.”
“Oh… I uh… I was punished before I got sick,” she mumbled against the pillow her face was pressed against. She tried her best to not act embarrassed or ashamed by the fact, and hoped her tough routine was working. But the fact of the matter that she had to discuss a spanking with a near stranger was like another punishment all in itself.
“Punished? For what? By who?” He traced his finger along what she could only assume were remnants of her spanking.
“By Mr. Gabe. I didn’t listen to Madame Jewel or Miss Nettie. I had it coming. Mr. Gabe has always been firm but fair. Maybe if I had listened to them earlier, I wouldn’t be here with my bare arse in the wide open.”
She could hear the doctor release a breath. “If I were you, young lady, I’d make sure to mind those who are only looking out for your health.”
Without pause, Dr. Norwood pulled her bottom cheeks apart and applied some grease to her opening.
She gasped, but remained in place.
His finger was quickly followed by the cool tip of glass penetrating her little hole. She couldn’t help but gasp again. It didn’t hurt, but it felt invasive, and her natural instinct was to want it removed instantly. When he continued to hold her cheeks wide and firmly hold the thermometer in place, she whimpered at the humiliation.
“That’s a good girl. We are almost done.”
His praise warmed her and allowed her to take a deep calming breath, which only led to another cough.
“Della, how long have you been a gem?”
“I told you. Since Madame Jewel and Mr. Gabe started The Red Petticoat. Before that, I was just a whore.”
Dr. Norwood pushed the thermometer a little more firmly into her bottom causing an involuntary whimper. He clearly didn’t like her using the term ‘whore’, but he remained silent.
“How long have you done this as a profession?”
She paused, needing a moment to think about the actual year. “Since I turned seventeen. When my pa shot and killed my ma, I had no choice but to leave my homestead. With no place to go, I had to be resourceful. I manage
d a few years by begging and doing odd jobs, but whoring definitely paid better. I chose that over starving.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I don’t need your pity, Dr. Norwood. Folks may not approve of what I do, but I am a survivor. Only one person kept me alive, and that was me. I take pride in that fact.”
He pulled the thin rod from her puckered hole. “You only have a low grade fever now. You are a very lucky girl.” He patted her behind. “Go ahead and roll over, but keep your nightdress pulled up. I need to examine you.”
Her face burned in humiliation. “I assure you, Dr. Norwood, I don’t have a whore’s disease. I take care to make sure I am healthy down there. My lungs may be ill, but my lady parts are not.”
He flipped her over and yanked her nightgown up to her waist, exposing her mound to his stare. “That very well may be the case, but I have to rule out everything, and this part of the examination is important. Especially considering your profession.”
His words stung. She didn’t know the man, but he had the power to hurt her feelings, a power that not many had. She wasn’t one to take people’s words to heart—something she had to learn very early in life. Della closed her eyes and swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. She had never felt so dirty in her life. If he were treating any other woman for a cough and fever, would he find it necessary to examine her privates? Della knew the answer to that, and the shame threatened to steal whatever breath she still had left in her. A betraying cough escaped her body which opened the flood gates to her mortification. Tears cascaded from her eyes as she shook violently from a powerful hack.
Dr. Norwood glanced up and noticed her tears. His face softened and he quickly moved to the head of the bed and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Della, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to offend you by assuming you had a disease of any sort.” He patted her hair as she sobbed into his chest. “I just wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t fully examine you. I examine all of the gems on a regular basis. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or sound so harsh.”