Grushenka. Three Times a Woman

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Countess Natalia Alexiejew and her husband, the Count Vasilis, were Russian aristocrats of the old, conservative order, a kind Grushenka had not yet met. They were religious, straightforward and strict, but just. They felt themselves the absolute owners of their serfs, but felt toward them more like a father or a mother than a master. Their day started early with a prayer meeting which was attended by the whole household. This was followed by breakfast at a long table, the masters presiding. If there was not a special party with guests, masters and servants ate at the same table and of the same dishes. After that, work was done.

Laziness or stupidity were at first treated with admonishing words. Only in rare and grave cases was the whip resorted to. The masters did not swing it themselves, however, but sent the culprit to the stable where an old and trusted coachman named Joseph laid the guilty one over a bundle of hay and administered the beating. (Joseph was a Judas and beat them longer and harder than he was told to. The other serfs hated him. They took good care not to be remiss in their duties so as to stay clear of his fangs.) Furthermore, no erotic abuse took place in the household. The aristocratic couple shared the same bed throughout the year. The Count, who was past fifty, had lost his sexual aspirations, and the Countess, who was ten years his junior, was apparently satisfied with what he was able to let her have. She was nice and plump, with firm flesh and many pretty dimples.

She had motherly ways, though always a bit preachy, and was beloved by all her servants. A few weeks after the death of the old Prince she approached Grushenka and asked her what she intended to do. Did she want to leave her? Should she look around for “a husband for her?

Would she like to settle down on a little farm? What were her plans?

Grushenka had no answer ready. After talking it over they decided that Grushenka should stay at the house for the present, and the Countess put her in charge of the linen and silver room.

Grushenka now carried on her belt a chain with many big keys which opened drawers and chests. She was proud to take care of countless sets of linen, from the coarse and daily-used bed linen of the serfs to the finest table damask, and of hundreds of pieces of china and many valuable silver ornaments which were put on the table on special occasions only. She had ten girls working under her, cleaning, repairing and sewing the new linen which had been woven by another group of girls or by the peasant women on one of the estates.

Her pride made her ambitious to have the utensils entrusted to her always at their very best. This ambition did not meet completely with the zeal of the girls working for her, especially in the beginning when they started to clean up after the years of disorder that preceded the death of the old Prince. She began to admonish her girls with friendly words, but she was timid and they laughed behind her back. It took all her courage to pinch one or the other on the arm, and she felt that as soon as she turned around they made faces at her and giggled. At last she complained to the Countess, who gave the matter serious thought. She advised her as follows: “The trouble with peasants,” said the Countess, “is that they won't hear with their ears until they have felt with their backs. It won't do for you to report them to me and for me to have them sent to the stable. They'll only pin on you the stigma of a traitor and they'll think you're afraid of them and will play you plenty of tricks. No-you will have to keep some good fresh switches in salt water in your working pantry. If you beat one or two of their backs sore, they'll kiss the hem of your sleeves.” After this advice, Grushenka got the switches and gave the girls a warning, but she made very little headway. The girls joked about the switches and broke the stems in the middle when she was not looking. There was one in particular, a big fat girl, about thirty years of age. She had been married twice to farmers, both of whom had died, and had always returned to the inner circle of the household because she had been one of the last favorites of the deceased Prince. She used to call Grushenka “baby,” and told stories of her married life which made the other girls stop working. She herself would do almost nothing in a day's time, and, when Grushenka pinched her on the arm, she would grin and say: “Why dear, do that again, please. It feels nice.” She certainly did riot feel it very much. She had a tough, brown skin and the hard flesh of her peasant stock. Her overgrown, full breasts had first attracted the old Prince when he saw her once swimming in the river of his estate. She used to kneel down before him, put his weapon between her breasts, press them gently together and rub until she felt his love juices flowing over her throat. She imagined that she had superior rights to Grushenka, hence her heckling and resistance. Therefore when she aroused Grushenka's temper again and again, Grushenka finally lost her patience and condemned her to twenty-five strokes over the bare buttocks with the switch. The girl arose unmoved, took some hair pins out of her hair and with them pinned her skirt up over her back.

With slow movements and ceremony she” removed her drawers, laid herself on the floor, bottom-up and said sarcastically: “Please hit me, sweetheart. I want to be heated up.” Grushenka knelt with one knee on the back of the culprit and put the bucket with the switches next to her on the floor. In front of her were two enormous buttocks-two big brown globes, muscular and steel-hard. The girl held her thighs closely together and strained her muscles in order to ward off the strokes. She was not at all afraid, because Grushenka was not very strong. Grushenka felt that if she did not beat the culprit into submission she would lose the respect of all her girls, and she pressed her lips together in anger. “Open up your legs as wide as you can,” she ordered curtly. “Certainly, my dove,” retorted the girl mockingly; “anything to please my little pet.” She spread her legs as wide as she could. At the end of the cleft appeared a great cavern-a hair-infested grotto which seemed able to hold a big stick. The thick flesh on the end of the cleft was not muscular, and the inside of the thighs next to the orifice attracted Grushenka's eyes. She directed the switch at these parts. At first, being greatly excited herself, she laid the strokes weakly and swiftly. But when the girl did not seem to mind at all, even muttering flip remarks, Grushenka began to whip her with a force which she herself had not suspected she had. The flesh around the grotto became crimson. The first drops of blood appeared. “The girl began to move-uneasily. The ends of the switch were cutting the lower part of the lips of the orifice. Soon the switch had broken to pieces.

Grushenka picked a new one. Her hand got sore, but she did not mind.

She was breathless, but she whipped and whipped, her eyes directed towards the end of the cleft and neglecting entirely the big, muscular thighs. Finally the girl felt the pain keenly. She had stood it at first to show up Grushenka and to prove that she could not hurt her. But now her pain became too violent. She closed her legs.

Grushenka, sensing victory and submission, would not have it so.

She shouted at her to open up again, and, when the girl did not obey, she bent over in a rage and bit her viciously on one of the big buttocks. The girl groaned and cried out, but reluctantly opened her enormous thighs again. This was not enough for Grushenka who jerked them open as far as it was possible and resumed her whipping until the girl prayed for mercy and to be forgiven. Grushenka stopped beating, but she was not yet through with her. She told the girl not to move until she had washed her up herself. In the hollow of her hand, she took salt water from the bucket and rubbed it into the raw, beaten flesh. The sting of the cold water shot up the girl's back and, as she instinctively recoiled, Grushenka manhandled her love-nest, pinching her all around the Venus' Hill and pulling her hair severely. Finally she inserted her sharp nails into the lips of the grotto and, with a last pinch, which made the culprit scream, let her go. After the girl rose, she gave Grushenka a strange look of mingled astonishment and devotion. She curtsied and kissed her sleeve, then went humble to her work without wiping off the tears which trickled down her cheeks. From that day, all the girls looked up to Grushenka with respect, and some of them even told her how glad they were that Grushenka had punished that bitch who had been so fresh.

Grushenka herself had undergone a change by this experience. She now looked at her ten girls as her property, and she enjoyed feeling that she could do with them what she wanted. She felt a certain thrill when she pinched their bare arms. She did not hurry when she had them expose the inside of a thigh or even a breast, so that she could squeeze the flesh slowly between the knuckles of two fingers, pinch hard and twist her hand around. When her victim yelled or did not hold still, she did it over and over again, and she was aware that she got a thrill out of it. She took even more advantage of her girls and they did not dare complain to the Countess. Grushenka had no lover, and she often felt randy. What had Nelidova done? For what had those lazy brats their tongues? Remembering her one-time mistress, Grushenka had these girls make love to her. The fat girl, who had been her antagonist, became her favorite for this sport. She had a long, crafty tongue and used to alternate rimming and tickling without having to be told what to do. But if one of the younger girls did not satisfy her, Grushenka beat her with a clear conscience. She used to say to herself: “Who had pity on me when I was in the same position?”

All this was erased by an event. The Count and Countess gave a great party. Grushenka supervised the serf girls in the handling of the dishes at the great buffet overflowing with food. Of a sudden there stood next to her-she had not seen him approaching-her Mikhail.

He was attired in gala uniform, smart from foot to head, young, alert and in the best of moods. Grushenka only saw the bold, blue eyes which had captivated her so many months ago. She stared at him as if he were a ghost, and, finally, understanding that he was really there before her, a guest of the party, she uttered a faint cry and turned abruptly to run away. He seized her and drew her toward him.

“Hello, Mary!”-that was the name she had given him when he and his friend had picked her up on the road- “Hello, you mysterious lady…

Don't run away. I have been looking for you everywhere. If you knew how often we discussed you, my friend Vladislav and I-he is still in Petersburg. We even made bets as to who you were. Now again I can't tell. You don't seem to be a guest, you're not wearing an evening gown. But you certainly are not a servant.” (Grushenka wore a modish but simple gray silk gown and no wig.) “Let me go, let me go!”

Tears dimmed Grushenka's eyes, and she was all in a flutter. At this moment the Countess passed and Mihail called her to his assistance. “I can tell you all about my little brave friend,” said the Countess. “She is a fine girl and very sweet, too, isn't she?” “We are old friends,” continued Mihail with a twinkle of the eye, “but she doesn't like me any more. See, she wants to run away.” “Please don't tell him anything,” pleaded Grushenka with her mistress. “If-well, then, I'll tell him everything myself!” And she sighed so pathetically that they both laughed. “All right,” consented Mihail, “that will be much more to my liking.”

Grushenka took him by the hand and led him out of the room, away from the glamour of the thousand candles and the laughter and merriment of the aristocratic party. She seated him in a dark corner of one of the many pantries, and, while the servants passed the room, busy with their work, she poured a torrent of words out at him.

She made herself as humble and miserable as possible. She told him that she was only a serf girl; that when he and Vladislav had picked her up, she was running away in the stolen clothes of her mistress; that she was a low, dirty creature, not worthy even to speak with him. When she was through, she burst into a stream of tears, embraced him and kissed him and clung hysterically to his neck, telling him that she had been liberated and was free now to go wherever she wanted and she would never separate from him again.

Mihail understood only one thing of all this: she loved him and had ceaselessly dreamed about him. She was very beautiful, and in her tears she looked to him like a Venus. She felt that she pleased him and suddenly became normal again-quite reasonable, in fact. She chided herself on being stupid, tidied herself up and smiled at him with great charm. He kissed her without passion, rather in a brotherly manner, and teasingly asked her whether she would sleep with him again. He promised her to be more polite hereafter, and not to snore. Saying he would see her again very soon, he went back to the feast. The information which he received from the good-hearted Countess was quite contrary to what Grushenka had told him. Of course, the Countess knew nothing about Grushenka's past; in her good-heartedness and naivete, she had not even a suspicion of Grushenka's previous adventures. She supposed the girl to be still a virgin, probably born of as fine parents as a free girl, but forced to sell herself into serfdom to ward off poverty. In liberating the old Prince, she certainly had shown great intelligence and courage, for if Serge had detected the plot, he would have tortured her to death.

Jokingly she asked Mihail not to fall in love with Grushenka because she was no match for him. That they might start an affair did not even enter her mind. But of course, that was exactly what happened- and how happy Grushenka was! Mihail, under the pretext of paying his respects to the Countess, had made good his promise and seen her again, and they had set a rendezvous. Grushenka slipped secretly out of the palace that evening and they took a long drive in his carriage.

They had no intercourse that time, but loved each other like two good healthy young people. The next time, however, she went to his quarters, and they were passionately entwined on his bed before they themselves were aware of it Grushenka, who felt heavenly thrills pass through her body when he only touched her hands, gave him her young body with all the passion and strength she was able to muster. They loved and caressed and kissed each other until complete exhaustion overcame them. Mihail became almost more enamoured of her than she was of him. In fact, she soon became indispensable to him. They kept their meetings very secret and so enjoyed their happiness the more.

Summer was approaching. Mihail, whose full name was Mihail Stieven, had to go to one of the family estates which he administered for his father. He did not want to part from Grushenka. Naturally he conceived a bold plan to take her away with him as his mistress. Thus, one morning, the Countess received a very well composed letter from Grushenka, who thanked her for her kindness and advised her that she had left for an unknown destination. The night before, Grushenka had smuggled all her belongings out of the palace and had left in a carriage with young Baron Stieven. They enjoyed all the happiness of an elopement. The honeymoon in the country was too wonderful for words-at least Grushenka thought so as she silently said a prayer. In order to giver her standing, Mihail had introduced her as his young wife and Grushenka was the “beloved Baroness” and Tittle mother” of her entourage. He should not have done that, as it turned out later on-but for the present his “young wife” had a rosy time.

Grushenka, in her profound happiness, treated all the servants with great modesty and care. She was good to everyone, visited sick peasant women, brought food to their children, and the only quarrel she might have had with her beloved man was that he complained that she was too lenient and that she spoiled everyone. She certainly spoiled him with her love. Nightly she encircled his muscular, firm body with her slender form. She gave herself to him without holding back anything, thrilling him to the core with the passion of her love.

Not that she ever kissed his always-excited love-shaft; much as she wanted to, she did not dare let him know that she understood anything about that kind of love-making. Not that she had caressed or had even taken his instrument in her soft hand; no, as soon as they lay naked in bed together, she beneath him, his tool would find the entrance by itself. But then she would practice her art-moving her buttocks in subtle circles, prolonging moments by forcing him to keep still when she felt that he was too near his goals, stroking his back with her hands and kissing his face, neck and head over and over again.

Sometimes when he was already in bed and waiting for her impatiently, she would tease him, hiding her love nest and her breasts with her hands, beguiling him by shaking her hips. When she came too near the bed, he would pull her in and it would take no time until she felt his beloved shaft in her burning grotto. She learned to ride a horse; they drove around in his carriage; they took long walks, and they discussed heaven and earth together. His admiration for her intelligence, quick wit and sound judgment grew steadily. He promised himself never to part with this girl, and she was immeasurably happy to feel the grip she had on him. They avoided visiting their neighbors, lest the aristocratic landowners be insulted with her presence. So perfectly did they seem made for each other that the future looked as bright as the present. They never discussed Grushenka's past life; Mihail did not want to know where she came from nor what she had done. She, on the contrary, wanted to know everything about him and he had to tell her his Me from childhood on. One day, after many kisses and goodbyes, Mihail left her to see a neighbor with whom he had to discuss grain prices and other things relating to the accounting which he would have to make to his father about the affairs of the estate. He had been gone a few hours when the carriage returned with his coachman bringing Grushenka the message that she was to take the carriage and meet him at a certain place to which he would ride on horseback. Grushenka had been sitting under a big chestnut tree in the garden, busy with some embroidery. She got into the carriage in her simple house dress without bothering to change or to take a hat. The destination named by the coachman was on the estate and not very far off. The coach drove with great' speed over the rough country ways. A few times the coachman turned his round, kind face back to her with a look in his eyes which she understood only afterwards. After covering a few miles they met a huge traveling coach. The coachman stopped, so did the traveling coach. Two men stepped quickly out, jumped at Grushenka, bound her and gagged her, threw her into the traveling coach and went off with her.

Grushenka was in a daze. Her own coachman, who naturally should have defended his mistress, had not even looked around. There was no doubt about it, this was a plot. Her abductors had put a kerchief over her head and resistance was impossible. The coach drove on for miles and miles. When the carriage stopped she was forced out, made to go up some stairs, bound to a chair, and then the kerchief was removed from her face. She sat in a well-furnished room, apparently a room of an expensive inn. Her abductors left immediately and she heard them report in the next room that she was safely delivered. Two elderly gentlemen, well-dressed aristocrats, one with snow white hair, entered. They looked sternly at her, especially the older one, who scrutinized her with hard, unkind looks. “So this is the vixen who has bewitched him,” the first broke the silence. “Well, we'll attend to her”-and such anger was in his tone that the other interfered. “We won't make any headway that way,” he said. “Leave her to me and everything will come out all right.” Then he addressed Grushenka, who sat anxious and fearful. “Are you the wife of Baron Mihail Stieven? When and where did you marry him?” “Who are you?” responded Grushenka. “What right have you to ask me-and I am not his wife anyway.'' She added this because she felt fear. “Not his wife?” began the man again. “Well, aren't you living with him?”

“I love him and he loves me and we can do what we want, can't we?” “Now look here, young woman, this is a matter of grave concern. This man is Mihail's father. Rumors have come to him that his son married secretly. Of course, he was interested in who his daughter-in-law was. Information came to us easily from the serfs of the estate. It's not Mihail's estate, remember, but his father's, and that is why the coachman abducted you today. We have also checked up on your past. That was not hard either. The Countess suspected that it was you who had eloped with Mihail. The girls told us that you had been bought through Madame Laura, who in turn brought us in touch with Marta. She knew all about you. You are nothing but a run-away serf from the Sokolov estate. You've tricked the unsuspecting Mihail, who is only a boy. He would not have lived with you as his wife if he had known that you were only a runaway serf whom we shall turn over to the police. Now confess: when and where did he marry you and what priest performed the ceremony? We have means to make you speak,” he added threateningly. Grushenka felt her hands get numb. She straightened herself up as well as she could and answered with dignity. She had never deceived her beloved Mihail; she had never married him, not even thought of it. He himself had given her a lift when she had fled from Madame Sophia. She loved him dearly and knew very well that he was much too aristocratic and good for her. She was willing to become the serf of Mihail's father of her own free will, if only he would allow her to live near her lover. Her words came unexpectedly to the elderly gentlemen. They seemed to be true and her arguments had weight. The two men had a lengthy discussion in French, which Grushenka did not understand. Mihail's father still seemed incensed, but the other man was more friendly. He proved this by cutting the strings with which she was tied without warning her not to run away. Finally Mihail's father spoke to her. “I have other plans for my son and I will not allow you ever to see him again. That is final and he will acquiesce to it, because he does what I say. You can choose your own fate. If you are willing to make a sacrifice and stay away from him, I'll take care of you. If not, I'll turn you over to the authorities, to Mihail's and your own ruin. For his mistress and bed-fellow will be whipped naked in a public place. She will be branded with an iron and sent to Siberia, as is becoming to a serf who deserts his rightful master. Take your choice.”

Grushenka cried. She cried for her lover. The men left her alone and locked the door. When the friend of Mihail's father came back to persuade her, he found that she had made her resolution. Of course she could not spoil the future career of Mihail. She was willing to give him up, and, when she was told that she could not even say goodbye to him, she acquiesced to that also. She was allowed to write him a letter, and she put into her awkward handwriting all the love and good wishes she had in her heart, telling him at the end that he should obey his father. Whether he ever received this letter is a question. The men had supper with her in her room. She was unable to eat, but she managed to sit with them and to speak a little. They looked at her now with other eyes; they found her beautiful and enticing and the friend of Mihail's father remarked that he was punishing his son severely by taking such a lovely companion from him.

But the old man remained firm and announced what her fate would be. She had to leave Russia immediately. Traveling clothes would be provided for her, also her passport. Trusted servants would accompany her to the frontier. The Baron advised her to open a hairdressing salon or a gownshop with the ample money which he would give her. Also that if she ever tried to get in touch with his son again, he would see to it that she'd die under the knout. This was spoken by a man who had the power to do what he said and whose vengeance would surely follow her if she broke faith. Grushenka understood only too well.

Fate had taken happiness from her. She had been born a serf; the mighty decided her fate and her tears were not a weapon with which to fight against their will.