In the Land of the Long White Cloud

couldn’t possibly undress in front of Howard in the middle of the stall.
    Howard frowned. “Are you crazy, woman? I’ll do all I can to keep you warm, but this is no place for lace shirts. It’ll cool down tonight, and what’s more there are bound to be fleas in the hay. Leave your dress on.”
    “But…but when we…” Helen turned a burning red.
    Howard laughed, pleased. “You let me worry about that!”
    He calmly loosened his belt buckle. “Now get under the covers, so you don’t catch cold. Do you need my help to loosen your corset?”
    Howard obviously wasn’t doing this for the first time, and he didn’t seem nervous. On the contrary, his face shone with anticipation. Helen bashfully declined his help. She could loosen the ties herself. But to do so, she had to unbutton her dress, which wasn’t easy since the buttons were in the back. She shrank when she felt Howard’s fingers. He ably undid one button after the other.
    “Better?” he asked with a sort of smile.
    Helen nodded. She just hoped that this night would pass quickly as she lay down in the hay with desperate determination. She just wanted to put it behind her, whatever “it” was. Silently she lay on her back and closed her eyes. Her hands clamped down on the sheets after she’d pulled the covers over her. Howard slipped in next to her and undid his fly. Helen felt his lips on her face. Her husband kissed her cheeks and her mouth. Well all right, she had let him do that already. But then he attempted to insert his tongue between her lips. Helen stiffened immediately, feeling relieved when he noticed her reaction and backed off. Instead, he kissed her neck, pulling down the neckline of her dress and corset and beginning awkwardly to fondle her breasts.
    Helen hardly dared breathe, while Howard breathed faster and faster until he was panting. Helen wondered if that was normal—and was scared to death when he reached under her dress.
    Perhaps it would have been less painful in a more comfortable setting. On the other hand, more inviting surroundings might have made the whole interlude worse. As it was, it all simply felt unreal. It was pitch black, and the covers as well as Helen’s voluminous skirts, now pushed up to her hips, blocked her view of what Howard was doing to her. But it was horrible enough just to feel it. Her husbandstuck something between her legs, something hard, pulsing, alive. It was terrifying and disgusting and painful. Helen screamed as something seemed to rip within her. She noticed she was bleeding, which did not stop Howard from tormenting her further. It was like he was possessed, moaning and moving himself rhythmically on top of and inside of her, almost seeming to enjoy it. Helen had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Finally, she felt a gush of warm fluid, and a moment later, Howard collapsed on top of her. It was over. Her husband fell away. He was still breathing quickly, but he soon calmed down. Helen wept quietly as she fixed her skirts.
    “Next time it won’t hurt like that,” Howard said in an effort to console her and kissed her cheek awkwardly. He seemed to be pleased with her. Helen forced herself not to shrink from him. Howard had a right to do what he’d done to her. He was her husband, after all.

4
    T he second day of the journey was even more arduous than the first. Helen’s lower body hurt so much that she could hardly stay seated. Beyond that, she was so ashamed she did not want to look at Howard. Even breakfast in their hosts’ house had been torture. Margaret and Wilbur would not hold off on the teasing and innuendos, which Howard only moodily returned. Only at the end of the meal did Margaret notice Helen’s pallor and lack of appetite.
    “It gets better, child,” she turned to her confidingly as the men went outside to hitch the team. “The man just has to open you up for it at first. That hurts, and you bleed a bit. But then it goes in easy, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. It can even be fun; believe me.”
    Helen would never take pleasure in this act; she was sure of that. But if men liked it, you had to let them do it to keep them in a good mood.
    “And otherwise, there’d be no children,” Margaret said.
    Helen could hardly imagine that children came into being from this indecent business full of pain and fear, but then she remembered the stories in ancient mythology. In those stories too, women were sometimes defiled and bore children as a result.