"No!" The young orderly cried. "You'll get us both in trouble!"
His commanding officer's voluptuous wife looked up at him sharply. "You'll learn the real meaning of trouble if you don't do as I say," she said threateningly. He made no further protest as the Major's wife crouched on the floor between his legs and began to massage his cock through the front of his breeches. And despite his fear, what she was doing began to feel good! Adam stirred uneasily in the chair as his organ slowly began to harden...
FOREWORD
Most books that deal with historical subjects do just that -- deal with historical subjects: battles, kings, generals, famines and plagues. The viewpoint is usually through the eyes of very exalted personages or their retainers. In this way, the reader gets a distorted idea of the age being described, seeing it only from the top, in the context of that tiny percentage of the population who govern.
But this trend is changing. Research is beginning to indicate that the men at the top may not be the movers and shakers previously believed. Rather, they follow -- follow the massive, slow-moving changes in belief of the general population. Changing a people's direction is like changing the direction of a glacier. It grinds on slowly century after century, and a man sitting on top of the glacier is a fool if he attempts to change its direction. He will be ground to bits. The wise leader follows the glacier's inevitable path, trying to gage in what direction it is moving, always alert to the winds of change.
This is the approach of author Alexander Miles in this lusty tale of the American Revolution, Intimate Rebels. The main actors in this story are ordinary people, swept up in a great movement that made it inevitable that the American colonies and the British crown would clash. Great figures in history exist in this story only as marginal characters, giving the reader a familiar point of reference. But it is the common man who counts. A general without soldiers is a ridiculous figure. He may mold, he may lead, he may inspire, but without the strong will of an entire people behind him, his army will melt away. It is the daily like, the customs of a people that dictates their collective direction, and this books attempts, in the short space available, to indicate some of the customs of revolutionary times... such as sexual behavior.
The late eighteenth century was a time of precocious sexuality. After the straight-jacket of Puritanism squeezing men's minds in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries had loosened, there was a brief, intense period of sexual experimentation, before the smug hypocrisy of the Victorian era once again made the body an object of loathing. In England, among the upper classes, the bored nobility used their money to purchase the sexual services of less fortunate people. Whipping societies abounded, and for a time flagellation was all the rage. Punishment went hand in hand with enjoyment, a judgement on the age, the age of the Marquis de Sade.
The common people were lusty and bawdy. The women often wore low-cut dresses, baring nearly the whole of their breasts. And in all classes, marital infidelity was common, a direct refutal of the official moral code. Adultery and promiscuity carried a statutory penalty of death, but it was rarely evoked. In such sexy times the law was generally ignored.
This well-researched work by Alexander Miles pulls no punches in describing the sexual mores of the revolution. In the first chapter we are shown how a young woman, virtually caught in the sex act by her stern father, escapes punishment, simply because she had a prospective husband in tow. Her ability to procreate was all important. The father, a widower, needed descendents to leave his property to. Sex was functional.
The book abounds with similar scenes, comparing the lusty sexuality of the American settlers with the decadent practices of the bored British aristocracy. Saying any more would only give away the well thought-out plot. We leave the discovery of further details to the reader.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
A lazy summer day, bright sun blazing down on the empty fields. Hot inside the big old barn, but not nearly so hot as outside. Inside its dim, cavernous interior, fat torpid flies buzzed, hovering nearly motionless in the stray sunbeams that leaked through the weathered walls. Distant sounds floated lazily through the still, heavy air.
In the back of the barn, in an empty horse stall, a young man and a girl were lying side by side on a thick pile of straw. The girl was blonde and very lovely, with deep blue, almost lavender eyes. The young man was darker, medium-sized, lean and almost girlishly handsome. He was leaning over the girl, slowly unlacing her bodice.
"Adam... " the girl giggled, "you shouldn't do that!" But she made no move to interfere with his busy fingers and a moment later a full, rose-nippled very solid breast popped out into the open. The young man's hand began to stroke its flushed softness. "Mmmmmmmmm," the girl sighed, one of her hands settling on his, caressing the backs of the fingers so eagerly stroking her naked breast.
"Do you like that, Polly?" the young man asked a little huskily.
"Yes," she replied. "But... "Her blue eyes grew big, innocent troubled.
"But what?" he asked, alarmed.
"It's supposed to be wrong!" she said dramatically. Then she burst out laughing at the suddenly stricken look on her companion's face. "Silly," she chided him gently, her eyes merry and mischievous.
Adam, the young man, gave her a quick excited smile and began to work the bodice open more until he had unlaced it all the way down past her navel. Then he pushed the top of the dress aside over the girl's smooth, sun-tanned shoulders until she was naked to the waist and both of her full sensuous breasts were bared. They swelled up from her slender torso, pink-tipped and firm, rising and falling in time to her noticeably quicker breathing. She smiled up at the boy, her long blonde hair tangled in with the straw, her eyes very blue against the golden background. A huge lump rose in the young man's throat.
"Oh... Polly," he moaned, and bending down, buried his face in the warm resilient softness of the girl's breasts. His ovalled lips closed around one of her nipples and sucked it hotly into his mouth.
"Oh!" she cried softly, and her hands come up to caress his hair, drawing his head down tighter against her suddenly tingling breasts. "Oh... how could it be wrong if it feels this good?" she whispered excitedly, her eyes glowing. "Oh, Adam... I love you so much!"
Adam murmured something in reply but the words were lost against her naked flesh. He began to cup the twin silken mounds in his hands, first one and then the other, forming them into high smooth cones so that he could more easily suck them. Her peaked out little nipples grew rapidly, rubbery at first, then hard as pebbles. Placing a hand on the outside edge of each, he squeezed them together, licking first one nipple then the other. Both he and Polly were beginning to breathe hard, the girl's body making little involuntary movements beneath him. Her face was becoming flushed.
Polly's skirts had ridden up a little, baring her legs to the knees, and it was only natural that Adam's hand should start to slide up between them. But at seventeen, Polly was still a virgin. Instinctively she clamped her legs together and twisted away. What should I do? she asked herself, her heart pounding. It had been her idea to lure Adam into the barn, but past that she had only a fuzzy idea of what she wanted to happen. Her training told her to push her lover away, but her almost fully matured body, lush and ready, burning with a hungry desire after years of frustration, said something else.
Fortunately for them both, Adam was not without experience. Noticing her resistance, he changed his tactics, gently stroking the backs of her legs from outside her dress. He too was a little confused. There was no doubt in his mind that it had been her idea to come into the barn and to lie down together in the stall. And the teasing response when he'd unlaced her bodice had made him feel certain they were going to make love. Now, what the hell was she doing? Most of Adam's experience had been with older girls, usually prostitutes from the nearest big settlement. He had seduced a few younger girls, but never one he cared so much about as Polly. Ever since he'd come to work on her father's farm, Adam had been hopelessly in love with the voluptuous young blonde. He tried to control himself, but the feel of her long curving legs under the thick material of her dress was driving him out of his mind.
He turned his attention back to her rapidly rising and falling breasts. It wasn't his first experience with them, but always before he'd had to content himself with reaching inside the girl's bodice, feeling her unseen nipples hardening against his groping palm. This was the first time he'd seen Polly even partially naked, and the sight of her lying beneath him, pink and gold and blue, was almost more than he could stand. Something special was going to happen between himself and Polly this lazy, sensual afternoon. He sensed it, but was afraid to rush it.
Polly was quickly mastering her inhibitions. Adam's wetly heated lips and tongue on her sensitive flesh were having their effect, and the physical hunger that had been building up in her since puberty was taking over. She closed her eyes, letting herself float on the pulsing waves of erotic sensation emanating from her well-mouthed breasts. She didn't fight back the next time Adam's hand slipped up inside her skirt. He was a little more cautious this time, not trying to work up between her legs but instead sliding his fingers up the back of her thighs. Halfway up, he met the stout defenses of her heavy cotton bloomers, but he passed them by, cradling her softly rounded buttocks in his hand, slowly kneading first one and then the other.
Polly let him draw her trembling body close to his. She even let him work one leg in between hers, so that his thigh was pressed against her pubic mound, but with her skirt in between. The girl became weak from pleasure as she felt the firm pressure against her moistly throbbing genitals. She wanted him to do more, and moved one leg higher up his thigh, opening her crotch wider.
Adam was in ecstasy as he felt Polly's vibrantly alive body pressed close to his, her nipples brushing past his lips, her fleshy mounds so soft and warm against his cheek. The solid feel of her vaginal mound against the front of his thigh continued. Lovingly he caressed her firm young ass-cheeks, only one thin layer of cotton away. But all the time what they were both most aware of was her pussy pressed in supplication against his leg. He had to touch it. Slowly prying the girl's legs open wider with his knee, he worked his hand in between her thighs from behind. When he pressed gently up against the yielding softness of her vaginal lips, he found that the girl's bloomer pants were soaked through, literally dripping with her warm cuntal juices. Now that he knew how fully aroused she was, Adam promised himself he was going to seduce her.
The youth began to rub the back of his hand back and forth against Polly's still hidden pussy, feeling the wet material of her underwear suck up inside her hidden slit. "Oooooohhhhhhhhh," the girl moaned softly, and her hips began to grind a little, reacting to each movement of his hand. Adam felt his prick, already aroused from his earlier fondling of Polly's secret flesh, swell rock-hard in his tight breeches, pressing painfully against the confining material. All at once he experienced an overwhelming desire to feel the naked heat of her tight young cunt, to work his fingers up into the source of all that tantalizing wetness. Then after he had played for a while, his cock would surely follow.
It was useless to try and slip his fingers up under the leg band of Polly's bloomers -- the legs came down too far and clung too tightly to her thighs. So Adam made a flanking movement to the rear, pulling his hand out from between the girl's thighs and sliding it up her buttocks until he felt bare flesh and he knew he was past the upper limits of her bloomers. Skillfully his fingers found buttons in back and undid them before the girl knew what was happening. Then those same skillful fingers slipped down underneath the waistband so that he was now caressing Polly's warm naked buttocks. She sighed, and stirred against him, happy to feel him touching her ass-cheeks but sorry that his hand was no longer rubbing so gratifyingly against her almost shamelessly aroused cunt.
But Adam had a definite plan of assault. His hand dipped lower and lower in the girl's bloomers, stretching the material as far as it would go until he had worked his fingers down so low he could feel the first tendrils of soft pubic hair rimming her vaginal lips. Sweating with the effort, Adam worked the tightly clinging bloomers away from the girl's crotch, until he had room to work his outstretched middle finger forward far enough so that it was caressing her moistly heated pussy. Holding her thighs far apart with his knees, he began to worm the finger up into the girl's steaming little slit.
"Oh... Oh... " Polly whimpered as she felt that first searing touch against her naked genital flesh. Her whole body was trembling with delight, even though she was a little scared. But let the finger stay... ! Oh God, it felt so good!
As good as it already felt, Polly was unprepared for the overwhelming erotic delight when Adam's fingertip finally slipped up inside the tight virginal opening to her vagina. She began to pant loudly, and her hips were pumping back and forth all by themselves without any interference from her brain, fucking slowly and repeatedly against Adam's marvelous finger up inside her trembling cunt. She held desperately to him, loving the wicked forbidden thing he was doing to her.
As far as the girl was concerned, she was getting what she wanted. But not Adam! He felt as if he were going to cum in his pants at any moment. He knew what was happening with Polly, and knew he would have to act quickly or she would remain satisfied with what he was already doing to her eagerly responding young body.
So he pulled his finger from her wetly clasping vagina and rolled a little away from the girl. Polly made a little "Oh!" of disappointment as she felt her pussy deserted, but Adam immediately slipped his hand up the front of the girl's belly and under the top of her bloomers, reaching down, brushing past more soft pubic hair, aiming his fingertip once again at Polly's hotly throbbing cunt. Remembering how wonderful that same finger had felt a moment before up inside her, Polly automatically opened her thighs far enough so that Adam's middle finger was able to slide back up inside her. And now that Adam's hand was coming at her from the front, he was able to work his finger much further up inside her quivering depths. God, she's tight! the boy marveled as he slowly slid his finger in deeper and deeper until it was surrounded all the way to the last knuckle by moist warm flesh. Tight and deep!
Polly opened her eyes, misty with the agony of desire and looked up at her handsome lover. "Oh, Adam... Adam... Adam... " she murmured, her loins writhing up against his invading hand. Adam sensed she was ready, and getting up on his knees, pulled his finger from her cunt. It glistened wetly, and smelled wonderfully hot and musky. Then he started to pull her loosened bloomers. Polly, still breathless, didn't know what he was dc mg for a moment, but then she instinctively reached down and fought to regain possession of her protective undergarment.
"Oh!" she cried. "Don't take them off!"
"I've got to," Adam pleaded. "They're in the way. It'll feel a lot better when they're off... you'll see... "
"I... " Polly replied slowly. Feel even better? Slowly the idea of having her genitals defenselessly bared before her lover's hot caresses began to overwhelm her. How exciting!
"Please, Polly," Adam murmured. "I love you." Leaning down he crushed his lips to hers in a long passionate kiss. Her own lips responded greedily, and when his tongue wormed inside her mouth she didn't resist but met It with the delicate tip of her own tongue. Her hands slipped from her bloomers anti she wound her arms tightly around Adam's neck, drawing him down to her.
"I love you too, Adam," she whispered, and let him take off her bloomers and drape them over the edge of the stall. She positively quivered with desire as she felt the fresh air washing over her naked loins.
Sitting back on his heels, Adam looked down at Polly wonderingly. Her dress was pushed up high around her waist, and he stared at the untanned white flesh of her belly, at her winking little navel, at her firm young thighs, and at her sparsely curling pubic hair. It was blonde, he'd expected that, but the reality fascinated him. The lower part of Polly's body was all curves -- rich thighs, full hips, and the gentle swell of her belly, all converging on the soft patch of golden fur. He reached out and began to stroke the fluffy tendrils. They felt like cornsilk.
Polly quivered when Adam's hand touched her pubic hair, and her thighs fell open again, inviting his finger back up inside her vagina. He had been right. It felt so much better with her bloomers off, so wickedly sensual.
Adam's finger started to work again, prying into the liquid heat of her tight little pussy. He watched the outer vaginal lips part baring the light pink valley inside. Lightly he stroked the tender little bud of her clitoris. Polly's entire body jerked as he brushed over its super-sensitive tip. He worked lower, watching his fingertip work a little way up inside the girl's vaginal sheath watching her hips buck upward to try to trap it further up inside the hungry channel. He knew she wanted his finger all the way up inside her body again, but he had other plans. While he slowly finger-fucked the girl, Adam began to unbutton the top of his breeches. Pulling them down a little, he was able to work his painfully swollen cock out into the open.
Polly sensed something was happening, and looked up just in time to see his long thick penis flop free of his pants. It dangled for a moment, then began to grow harder and harder as the hot blood of implacable desire rushed into it. Polly we? a farm girl and had seen enough animals fucking to know what Adam intended to do. A sudden rush of paralyzing fear swept over her.
"Oh, no!" she blurted out. "Please don't, Adam! I... I... Please... just your finger!"
"Don't be afraid," Adam murmured, softly stroking the girl's hair. "I love you, Polly... I won't hurt you... But I want to make love to you."
Polly was in a turmoil. Her love-starved body still throbbed from Adam's touch, and she hungered for more. But the sight of his swollen huge rod had touched off a primordial fear in the girl. The thought of surrendering her virginity was such a big step. She half-realized in the back of her mind that this was what she really wanted, that this was the real reason she had come into the barn with Adam. But his penis looked so big!
"Don't you want to make love to me?" Adam was asking, his voice a little hurt.
"Yes... No... Oh, I'm so confused!" the girl half-sobbed. But her hips were still churning up against Adam's fingertip and he knew the rest was up to him. Lying down beside the girl, he began to kiss her again, pressing her almost naked young body close to his. He drew her leg over his thigh opening up her crotch again, then pulled his finger from her vagina and replaced it with his cock, rubbing its spongy tip gently against the lips of her pussy. Polly moaned softly, and her hips began to press forward against his lust-swollen cock-tip just as they had against his finger. A revolution was going on inside the blonde girl's mind. As soon as she felt his hot, rock-hard organ moving over the quivering surface of her cunt, she knew she wanted it up throbbing inside her. Something about its thick, pulsating aliveness made of her aware of how good it would feel. She was still a little afraid, but ready now. Hooking her leg behind Adam's body, she pulled her loins closer to his, opening herself up to him as they lay side by side. Adam reached down and with one hand and tried to insert the head of his thick rigid shaft up into the girl's wetly streaming vagina, but it was too tight a fit. He managed to get the tip in about a half-inch, but past that there seemed to be a solid wall denying him entry. He'd never make it from this position.
So Adam rolled over on top of Polly and knelt between her wantonly outspread legs. He took the mushroomed tip of his prick and began to slide it up and down the dripping hair-lined length of her pussy-slit, coating himself with her slippery vaginal lubricants. Once again he placed his cock-head against the opening to Polly's tight virginal cunt and pushed. Once again he slipped in about a half-inch and met that impenetrable wall.
"Oh! It hurts!" Polly squealed, flinching away.
"I... can't help it... You're so tight!" Adam blurted despairingly, starting to pull back. He realized how much he loved Polly, and was afraid to hurt her.
"No... Don't go!" Polly begged. She looked up adoringly at her dark, handsome young lover and knew that she wanted him up inside her more than anything else in the world. "I don't care how much it hurts... Please do it to me!"
Polly's words set Adam on fire. God... she wanted him as much as he wanted her! The urge to ram his cock up into her lush young body was already overwhelming, and knowing how much she wanted him too... "Hold on, Polly," he said, and pushing hard with his hips, slowly shoved his swollen member up into her vagina.
"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh," Polly moaned in agony, biting down on Tier lip to keep from screaming. The pain was terrible. She felt her virgin hymen stretch... stretch... then tear. Her thighs suddenly felt hot with blood, and she instinctively writhed away from Adam's invading penis. But when he started to pull back, horrified by the pain he was obviously causing the girl, she clung to him fiercely.
"No!" she hissed. "Don't stop now. Make love to me... Oh... " she moaned. "I love you, Adam!"
Adam did as she asked. For a few moments he held his wildly pulsating prick motionless in her vagina, until he felt her slowly relaxing, her tight little cunt stretching open a little inside as the first pain passed. Then he slowly began to fuck into her, using deep, gentle strokes that soon gained in intensity. He looked lovingly down at the girl, at her naked breasts swollen to half again their size now, at her rounded belly, and most of all down at her yellow-haired cunt where his long hard cock was slowly and rhythmically fucking in and out, in and out, wet and glistening with her internal fluids. Inside her tight muscular channel his throbbing organ was being maddeningly squeezed, caressed, brought closer and closer to orgasm.
The pain was slowly subsiding for Polly, replaced by a slow amazement over how incredibly good it felt to have Adam's relentlessly thrusting penis up inside her. Her body relaxed and she began to pant and moan in time to his motion, feeling her body opening wider and wider to receive him. She was happy, so happy she had done this. It felt so right.
Adam began to fuck into Polly harder and harder, and her legs reached up and encircled his body, squeezing tightly around his loins. Little cries and whimpers bubbled from her throat, and her hands moved erratically over his back, plucking at his shirt. He was lying on her full length now, his cheek against hers, her breasts flattened by his weight, but he could still feel her nipples poking through the thin material of his shirt. He grabbed her shoulders, holding her down against the straw as he began to fuck harder, marveling that she could take so much this first time. His cock was swelling larger and larger, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold off his orgasm much longer. He reared back up on his arms a moment, looking down at Polly. Her face was transformed, full and rosy with passion, her eyes almost purple now, glinting smokily from behind half-closed lashes, her mouth open a little, her tongue flickering desperately over dry lips.
He saw her cum. Polly's eyes opened in stunned surprise as she experienced her first orgasm. "Aaaaahhhhhhhhh!" she cried, her back arching in ecstasy. The inexperienced girl had no idea what was happening to her as she writhed helplessly in the throes of her climax, but it felt to her as if all her insides had suddenly grown red hot and melted, forming a pool of sensation that pulsed like a wild ocean surf through her cunt. Her vagina spasmed, sucking powerfully on Adam's rapidly thrusting hardness, milking it with a greediness that made him want to scream.
"Oh, God," he finally moaned, powerless to resist the wildly erotic feelings of her massaging cuntal muscles. He felt his sperm-laden balls tighten, and a moment later the first burning rush of semen shot up through his prick and jetted into Polly's welcoming womb. Half out of her orgasm now, the girl felt herself grow hot and wet inside as Adam filled her belly with his seed. He was panting and moaning, his eyes screwed shut against the wonderful agony in his loins.
"Oh, darling... darling... " Polly crooned to him, holding him close to her as he pumped more and more of his hot cum into her womb. She sensed instinctively that he was feeling the same thing she had moments before. Never before in her life had she felt so alive, so real. She had no guilt at all over having surrendered her maidenhead, only wonder at why she had waited so long.
Finally Adam collapsed onto her, completely spent, and the girl felt his hardened shaft beginning to shrink up inside her cunt. Desperately she clamped down with her strong young internal muscles, trying to hold the softening organ up inside her, but it retreated further and further until only the tip was locked inside the entrance to her vagina. But Polly found even that exciting. She had taken the chance and had now found something she knew meant more to her than anything else in the world. Her whole body still throbbed with the pleasure of making love to Adam. Fiercely, greedily, she pulled his face down and kissed him on the mouth. "I love you... I'll never let you go," she panted up at him.
Adam flinched away. Now that he'd finally fucked Polly, the immediacy of his need had lessened. Her ardor made him a little nervous. He felt he loved the girl, but her sudden fierce possessiveness was overwhelming. Gently disengaging her hands, he rolled free, his flaccid prick slithering wetly from her still gently twitching cunt. It was better when he was lying beside her. Then he could run his hands gently up and down her nearly nude body, stroking her breasts, running his fingers through her now thoroughly soaked pubic hair. As he looked longingly at her golden beauty, some of his ardor returned. "I love you too," he whispered into her ear.
Polly was intensely happy. Five years of frustration was behind her. All at one stroke her nubile young body had got what it so desperately needed. She turned toward Adam, cradling his face in her hands. "Let's get married," she said dramatically.
Adam suddenly felt like ice inside. Get married? The idea wasn't new to him. For weeks, when desire to make love to his employer's beautiful daughter had seemed hopeless to him he'd thought of it. Night after night he lay on his straw pallet in the hired man's quarters, wanting to masturbate but afraid to for fear of going insane, spinning erotic fantasies of being married to Polly, of taking her to bed. But now he'd had her. Marriage? He looked at Polly again and her beauty began to overwhelm him. Why not? he asked himself. But then again... Why?
Suddenly there was the sound of loud voices outside the barn door, and Adam became aware that the village alarm bell had been ringing for some time. "Adam! Where are you?" a voice was bellowing. It was Polly's father.
"Oh my god!" the young girl squealed, her face pale, certain she had been caught. Bolting out of the stall, she headed for the back of the barn, her fingers flying over the laces of her bodice. Adam had just finished buttoning up his breeches when the barn door opened, letting in a flood of hot bright sunlight. Polly's father stood blinking in the doorway, trying to see into the dim interior. Adam was about to start forward when, to his horror, he realized that Polly's bloomers were still hanging over the low wall of the stall. Scooping them up, he rammed them inside his shirt, smoothing them out so they wouldn't bulge too much.
"Adam... Polly?" the farmer said again.
"Back here, sir," Adam said. "Just cleaning out this old stall." He'd picked up a pitchfork and was busy spraying straw in every direction.
"Cleaning out that stall?" Polly's father asked in puzzlement. "I just put clean straw in it the other day."
Sheepishly Adam put down the pitchfork. Just then Polly came out of the gloom at the back of the barn, and Adam saw with dismay that there was still straw in her blonde hair, and that her bodice was laced too tightly, more tightly than she normally wore it. Her full breasts bulged over the top. And as she faced her father, Polly blushed, a deep scarlet blush that ran from the top of her breasts, up over her face until it got lost in her hairline. Oh my God! Adam thought. I'm done for!
Farmer Rivers saw everything that Adam saw. He was a big ruddy man, with hands the size and shape of hams from a lifetime of working the soil. He gave both Adam and Polly one long calculating look, his ice-blue eyes shifting slowly from one to the other, and finally boring straight into Adam's. The young man braced himself for the shock, while Polly felt as if she were going to faint.
"Alarm bell's ringing," farmer Rivers finally said gruffly. "Thought we'd better go and find out what it's all about." And turning on his heel, led the way out of the barn. Adam and Polly exchanged one quick -look of indescribable relief and followed the big man outside, blinking in the bright sunlight.
That young whippersnapper's been fucking my daughter! farmer Rivers was thinking as the three of them headed for the stable. As he walked, he mulled this startling information over, and found he wasn't too displeased. He's a right good worker... Make a good son-in-law... And from the look on Polly's face, a good bed-mate for her! Nothing worse than and unsatisfied woman around a place! Then his face darkened. But God help him if he's just toying with the girl!
Farmer Rivers, a widower, loved his daughter and only child. He knew nature was bound to take its course with young people, just as it did with the young animals he raised. A hot lazy day, a boy and a girl together, alone -- it was natural. And a good beginning to get Polly in the family way, so there'd be someone to leave the farm to. A woman had to have a good strong man, and Adam fitted that bill. But any man who tried to hurt his daughter... Farmer Rivers swelled with rage at the thought, and when from behind Adam saw those bull-like shoulders knot and raise high, he trembled. God, what had he got himself info?
Rivers and Adam saddled up two horses, one for himself and one for Adam. He swung into the saddle and spoke down to Polly. "Git up behind me, girl."
Polly gave a start. All the way from the barn she had been very aware that she was wearing no panties, and she liked it. Something hot and wet was running from her genitals, down her thighs, making them slide sensuously over one another as she walked. And the fresh air coming up underneath her skirt washed delightfully over her still-tingling pussy. She felt wild, free -- and at the same time calm and fulfilled. Her father's voice pulled her out of a pleasant reverie, in which she was thinking of Adam making love to her again. Oh, why hadn't she done something like that before, instead of waiting all those years until she was an old seventeen?
Shaking the thought from her mind, she put her small foot into her father's stirrup and grabbing his powerful arm pulled herself up onto the horse's back, sitting astride, like a country girl. "Oh!" she yelped involuntarily as her somewhat tender pussy made naked contact with the back of her father's saddle. With her legs spread wide around the horse's broad back, her cunt was wide open, and now she wished she had her bloomers on. Her father gave her arms an affectionate squeeze when she put them around him to hold on. "You'll be riding behind another man one of these days, Polly. Not too many more times we'll be on a horse together."
Adam felt like ice inside again. What Rivers had just said, the way he was acting, and most of all, that long hard look in the barn told Adam that his employer knew. And Adam realized what was expected of him. Marriage. Settling down on the farm. At nineteen he was of an age when many farm boys got married, but God, he hadn't lived yet! There were so many things the boy wanted to do, so many adventures still waiting to happen.
He stole a look over at Polly, sitting strangely stiff on the horse behind her father, and the memory of how beautiful she had looked lying on the straw, in that stall, half-naked, her face flushed with passion as he'd plunged his aching cock up into her lovely young body softened his heart. And hardened his penis. By God, maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all! He looked around him at the River's holdings, a rich farm. All the initial clearing and draining had been done a generation ago, all the backbreaking work. Lush fields stretched away until they were stopped by the thick threatening wall of the still untamed forest . There was game in that forest. And it stretched for a thousand miles. With the farm and the game and Polly, a man would be rich.
And tied down.
All the way into the village, Adam's mind was seesawing back and forth, balancing freedom and adventure against comfort and security. He was sweating by the time they rode into the village square.
The ride had been somewhat different for Polly. All the way, her pussy, highly sensitive after the fucking it had just got, rubbed maddeningly against the back of her father's saddle, with the saddle cloth actually working a little way up inside her hot little slit. And she could feel the coarse hairs on the horse's back prickling at her naked thighs and buttocks. Her father broke into a canter as they neared the village, and the feelings in her pussy became more than she could bare. For the second time in her life she had an orgasm, slumping forward, digging her chin into her father's back, biting down on her lower lip to keep from crying out. She felt a hot gush of her own sex-juices pour out of her vagina and smear over the horse and the edge of the saddle. Her loins started to buck, and she had to fight to get them under control.
"Are you all right?" her father asked, looking back over his shoulder.
"N-No... just out of breath," Polly panted. "C-Can't you slow down?" So her father reined the horse in and they entered the village at a walk.
CHAPTER TWO
The village was very small. A few houses, a blacksmith shop, a large rambling building that sold supplies for the farmers, and a few small shops selling varied items. The rolling fields of the farms surrounded the village, and beyond them, all around the horizon, the endless, ever-present forest.
The small town square was crowded with people, mostly farmers who had come to find why the bell was ringing. Rivers, Polly, and Adam swung down from their horses and tied them to a hitching rack. "What's it all about... Indians?" Rivers asked.
"No... a man from Philadelphia. With some kind of proclamation to read."
There was indeed a stranger walking toward the high porch of the town church from which notices were proclaimed to the citizens. He was wearing what appeared to be a uniform. A uniform neither Rivers nor Adam nor any others of the townspeople had seen before -- buff knee-breeches, a buff waistcoast and a heavy frogged coat, blue with white facings. On the left side of his cocked hat he wore a black cockade. A single gold epaulette on the left shoulder proclaimed him to be a subaltern. A sergeant and several other men trailed after him, all wearing the same unfamiliar uniform. The subaltern climbed up on the porch while the others lined up beneath facing the crowd, spaced a few feet apart. He rapped for attention and the crowd fell silent.
"Men," he said. "Fellow citizens... " Then he pulled a roll of paper from his pocket and began to read: "On the fourth day of July, in this year of seventeen-seventy-six, in congress assembled, representatives from each of these American colonies issued a declaration... a declaration of independence from the British crown... " He let that sink in. "Boys... that means we're free!" he cried out. "We're now the United States of America!"
There was a stunned silence from the crowd. "Free of the crown?" someone asked incredulously.
"Hooraaw!" farmer Rivers suddenly shouted, throwing his cap into the air. "We're rid of that blasted fat old German bastard and his rotten taxes at last!"
His voice died away. A ragged silence followed, and then others took up the cheer. A few looked downcast, those who still felt loyal to the king, but when they saw the growing enthusiasm of the others they wisely held their peace.
"How're the British taking this?" Rivers asked the subaltern, who was clearly grateful to him for his enthusiasm.
"They don't like it," he said. "We expect they'll fight."
There were worried murmurs from the crowd, but the subaltern quickly spoke again with honest confidence in his voice. If they try anything, they'll get a lesson they'll never forget," he said confidently. "We Americans have our own army now, under General George Washington of Virginia, a good soldier if there ever was one. Why, only last March he and General Knox chased the redcoats out of Boston so that it's free now for the first time in years. And down in the Carolinas, when the British tried to attack Charleston, Colonel Moultrie drove 'em off with heavy losses." There were loud cheers from the crowd, now that they had been told the British were not invincible. "God bless our army!" a man cried out.
"That's one of the reasons we're here," the subaltern said quickly. "God can't bless an army that doesn't exist. General Washington needs more men. He thinks the British are going after New York next, so he's marched all the men he has there to meet them if they try to land. Now, are we men from the colony... I mean, the State of New York going to let a Virginian have all the fun and the glory? Join up. Every able-bodied man among you should be eager to come forward and march with us... we have already formed a battalion from the area, under Major Abraham Wyatt.
Rivers looked thoughtful. "Is that Abraham Wyatt, the grain merchant from over Muddy Creek way?"
"No other... A good soldier and a patriot. We elected him our Major when he put up the money to equip us."
"Hmmmm," Rivers replied "Well, I guess he'd make as good a major as any of us."
"Well... how about it, boys?" the young subaltern cried out. "Who'll sign up and go with us to teach the British a lesson?"
During the long silence that followed, Adam found himself thinking hard. He was genuinely excited by the things he had just heard, and the seesawing in his mind was tilting far in the direction of the adventurous life. He looked at Polly and loved her, but great things were happening and he was being asked to be a part of it. He almost stepped forward but then locked guiltily in farmer Rivers' direction, only to find the farmer looking back at him, fiercely, intensely.
"Come on, boy," the farmer hissed. "Step forward and sign up or none of these other ninnies ever will!"
Adam couldn't believe his ears. He had been certain Rivers would want him to stay with Polly. Before he had time to reflect, Rivers punched him in the ribs, propelling him forward. Adam's hand automatically flew up and he yelped.
"Here's our first volunteer!" the subaltern cried, immediately signalling to the sergeant to lead Adam forward. "Now how about some more of you brave boys?"
A few others came forward, most of them sheepishly, prodded on by others. "By God, I'd go myself!" farmer Rivers bellowed, and Adam believed him. "Only I can't get around so good since that ox stepped on my leg." He had a terrible limp. Under his urging a few more men stepped forward, until there were nearly a dozen.
"Is that all?" the subaltern asked disappointedly. "Ah, well, sergeant, swear them in. As for the rest of you, we could use supplies. An army marches on its stomach. Wheat, clothing, a few head of cattle... the army can use it all. We'll be marching out before dark. Bring us anything you can spare."
A few minutes later, Adam found himself swearing an oath to a country he'd never heard of before this afternoon -- the United States of America. He mumbled the lines with his fellow volunteers, and then they were told to show up in a couple of hours with whatever equipment they could get together. Still a little numb, Adam turned back to his employer, now his former employer, who seized his shoulder in an iron grip.
"I'm proud of you, boy," he said fiercely. "It's time we showed the British who's land tins is." He swallowed hard once and Adam saw tears of emotion in his eyes. "You come back to us, you hear? It's all yours... The farm and... you know what else!" And he turned away before Adam could reply.
Polly stood a little apart from her father and Adam, too stunned to move. Only a half-hour ago the world had been full of hope and promise to her. Her body had throbbed with Adam's lovemaking, and she looked forward to an endlessly happy future with him. Now it was all swept away by the evil winds of war this horrible young officer had brought to their peaceful village. Adam was going away.
"Adam," she said haltingly as the three of them made their way back to the horses. "You're not really leaving, are you?"
"I gave my oath," he replied woodenly, still a little shocked by the sudden rapid shifts in his life in the course of one afternoon.
"You should be proud of him," her father said grandly. "And he'll come back."
"And what if he doesn't?" Polly suddenly wailed. Before either man could stop her, she sprang up onto the back of her father's horse and whipping the reins about its neck sent it sprinting off, half-rearing, toward the farm. Rivers stared open-mouthed after her for a moment.
"Women," he finally grunted, and mounted his horse. "You sit behind me," he told Adam, something he would never have done before today.
Back at the farm, Rivers gave Adam an old smooth-bore fowling piece that had hung over the mantelpiece for years. "Shoot me a Redcoat with it," River's growled. Adam gathered together his few possessions and put them in a knapsack, and wearing his stoutest shoes and toughest clothing was soon ready to go. "Go say goodbye to Polly," Rivers ordered him.
With a sinking heart, Adam walked up the stairs to Polly's room, a room he'd never even looked inside before. Nor was he to have the chance this time. "I... I want to be alone," Polly sobbed from the other side of the locked door, and no matter how long Adam pleaded, she refused to open. Finally, he had to go off to town with Rivers, unconsoled, a drooping young man in homespun clothes, with a fowling piece over his shoulder and a knapsack on his back.
What neither Adam nor farmer Rivers knew was that Polly wasn't merely sulking, heartbroken in her room. She was furiously sorting through her belongings, picking out the ones she felt she would need on a long trip and stuffing them into an old carpet-bag. Because she was determined to follow Adam.
What had happened between Polly and Adam earlier in the day had turned on a limitless hunger in the girl for more, and so far the only route to more she knew of was Adam. Let him go off to war... she'd go too!
When she was packed, Polly slipped on her cloak and walked to the village, taking a back way that made it less likely she would be seen. She got there about two hours before dark and slipped into the back of the blacksmith's shop, near where the men were assembling. Several of the soldiers were stacking supplies inside a large covered wagon, one they had obviously come in, because Polly had never seen it around the village before. There was a pitifully small pile of supplies stacked in the square. Polly recognized the bulk of them as coming from her father's farm.
"Can't you good people spare any more?" the subaltern was asking hopefully. But the few townspeople there turned guiltily away. Most of them were for independence -- as long as it didn't cost them anything. Not until near the end of the war, when it was clear the rebels were winning would they give freely to support the revolution.
No one noticed Polly when she finally slipped into the loaded wagon and hid herself under a tarpaulin. A few minutes later the subaltern gave the order to move out. He wanted to get the men on the road, knowing the dangers of letting them spend the night in their homes. Too often volunteers had second thoughts, surrounded by familiar comforts, by soft, inviting beds and loving women. Tonight they would camp in the forest, through which few men cared to travel at night. The forest was still Indian country.
The wagon jolted out of town, the uniformed soldiers marching smartly alongside it, the volunteers strung out behind in a long, shuffling, ragged line. But as they drew away from the village and the farms Adam found himself becoming excited. For better or worse, he was off on an adventure, probably the biggest he would ever have. Most of the other men apparently felt the same way too, and soon all the men were singing, marching in step as the forest swallowed them up.
* * *
The road meandered through the forest, following the least obstructed way. Since the forest was still first-growth, had never been cut, there was very little scrub and undergrowth. Mighty trees had grown up, cutting off sapling rivals from sunlight, their great roots monopolizing the nutrients in the soil. Their limbs and leaves formed a canopy overhead. Ferns grew feathery in the dim soft light. Here and there a forest giant had been cut down to straighten the road a little, but on the whole, the road accommodated itself to the forest, rather than the other way around.
It was very silent in the forest, and once in it the men fell silent too, automatically listening for sounds not natural to the soft muted background murmur of leaves, small animals, and birds. This was Indian country. Not far to the north was the land of the Six Nations, the Iroquois Confederacy, a highly advanced Indian culture. Living in villages, in stone houses with glazed windows, planting corn and tending large orchards, the people of the Six Nations carried on an intermittent war against the white settlers, raiding and killing, appearing out of the forest without warning and melting back into it, leaving blood and fire behind.
The subaltern, who's name was Smythe, marched his men into the forest for nearly two hours. Then, as it was getting dark, he halted the column and ordered the men to make camp. He now considered they were far enough from home to lessen the temptation to desert. The wagon was driven into a large clearing and the horses unhitched. The men began to make up their bedrolls under trees and bushes. A fire was started and soon meat was roasting. A stew pot bubbled.
Adam was detailed to stand guard a little way out in the forest. His relief came, wiping the back of his mouth. "Your turn to eat, Adam," he said, belching a little. "Can't say the food's anything to make a fuss about, one way or the other."
Adam walked back to the camp, got his mess tin and filled it with stew, balancing a big chunk of coarse bread on the rim. He made himself comfortable, sitting on the ground with his back against a tree and ate. While he ate, he had time to think over his incredible day. This morning had started out normally enough, hoeing the fields. Then that, long hot glance from Polly that had emboldened him to take her into the barn. Adam's mind danced with excited memories of making love to the girl, of the creamy richness of her lush young body. Then, wham, the prospect of marriage, turned aside almost immediately by the news of war and independence. Now, here he was, suddenly a soldier on his way to New York. Would he have done better to stay with Polly? Adam felt his breathing quicken as he remembered how her breasts had felt under his roving hand, the moist heat of her pussy. Then, to his amazement, he heard her voice.
"Let go of me, you... you beast!" he heard her cry. Leaping to his feet, Adam charged into the center of the camp where he found the settler dragging a wildly struggling Polly from the rear of the wagon. The man was half-carrying her toward subaltern Smythe.
"Found a stowaway, sir," he said gruffly, fending off Polly's wild blows toward his leathery face.
"Polly!" Adam cried. "What are you doing here?"
"You know this girl?" Smythe asked, turning quickly toward Adam.
"Yes," Adam blurted out. "She's my... she's the daughter of the farmer I worked for... farmer Rivers."
Smythe looked coldly at Adam. "Then you have some explaining to do. What makes you think you can bring a woman along on the march?"
"He had nothing to do with it," Polly said quickly. She had quieted down as soon as she saw Adam. "I ran away, Adam," she said, turning toward him. "I didn't want to be left behind. I'm going with you."
"But Polly,'" Adam said, looking embarrassedly from Polly to the subaltern and back again. "I'm a soldier now. You can't be with me. You'll have to go home."
"And how am I going to get there?" she shot back defiantly. "You want me to walk back through Indian country'?"
"We'll take you back... in the morning."
"Oh, will we?" the subaltern broke in. "What's your name... Thatcher, isn't it?"
"Yes... Adam Thatcher."
"Adam Thatcher sir!" the sergeant broke in.
"Yes sir... Adam Thatcher, sir."
"Well, let me tell you Thatcher. We're soldiers, on the march toward New York where we're very badly needed. We're not going to waste most of a day taking some twit of a girl back to her parents."
"Then let me go," Adam said desperately. "I'll take her back in the morning... Sir," he added quickly, responding to the sergeant's glare.
Smythe looked troubled. He knew he might lose this young man, and he needed soldiers. He turned abruptly toward Polly. "There will be women in the camp at New York," he told her. "But they work. They work hard. Do you know how to make soap?"
"Y-Yes, sir," Polly replied.
"No!" Adam cut in. "Polly's no camp follower... Sir!"
Smythe looked down at the ground, chewing his knuckles He wasn't much older than Adam. "We'll decide in the morning," he finally said. "If she goes back, you'll take her." And then his voice became ominous, "but if you don't rejoin our column, I'll have you hunted down and shot as a deserter!" Spinning on his heel, he walked away. Polly and Adam were left alone, with the other men staring at them openly.
"I'm sorry, Adam... I had to do it!"
"Let's go over here, where we can be alone," Adam said nervously. He saw tears in her eyes and hoped she wouldn't break down in front of his new companions. Taking the girl by the hand, he led the way to a small cleared space in a thicket, scooping up his pack and blanket along the way. He spread the blanket on a soft carpet of leaves and he and Polly sat down next to one another, a little apart, their manner stiff and awkward. Polly snuffled once but was determined not to cry. She looked down at the ground, then shot a glance in Adam's direction, only to find him looking at her. Their eyes met, locked, softened.
"Oh, Adam!" Polly cried, throwing herself into her lover's arms. "I couldn't stand the thought of being without you!"
"But Polly," he replied, holding on to her tightly, acutely aware of how resiliently alive her body was, of her soft breasts pressed against him. "You have to go back. An army camp's no place for a girl like you."
"You heard what the subaltern said... there are plenty of women in the camps."
"But you're not the same kind of woman," Adam pleaded. "They're... they're... "
"Whores? I'm willing to be a whore if that's what it takes!"
"No... don't say that! I have to take you home!"
Polly had not really meant it when she said she would be willing to be a whore. She was just being dramatic. But suddenly she began to think over what she had just said. Wasn't she a whore already, in some people's eyes? After all, she had given her virginity to Adam, although most sensible people didn't think too harshly of such an occurrence, as long as lovers intended sooner or later to be husband and wife. But now a war had intervened, and Adam and Polly were threatened with a long separation. Perhaps a permanent one. Polly's first encounter with sex this afternoon had been a revelation. She loved it, she wanted more. And she wanted it from Adam! If she had to be a camp follower, a whore in most people's eyes to have what she felt she so badly needed, then she'd do it! Starting right now!
"Would you really take me back?" she asked Adam, her voice growing low and silky. "Don't you... want me?"
"Well, of course... but... " It had grown dark, but a full moon was rising over the forest, shining down into the little clearing where Adam and Polly sat together. By its soft silvery light, he saw Polly's eyes grow large and dark, as they had earlier in the day when he'd first made love to her. Reaching up, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled his face down toward hers. Their lips met in a long, deep kiss. Polly held him close. "Don't send me away," she whispered into his ear.
Adam was having trouble breathing. Never before in his rather limited experience had he felt such an aura of sensuality and desire emanating from a woman's body. His penis lurched inside his tight breeches, responding instinctively to the rich promise of the girl's body. Polly seemed to sense this, because her hand dropped down to his groin and began to stroke his growing hardness through his breeches, shyly, gently... but positively. Adam's breath sucked in sharply, and he jumped a little. His hand dropped down too, to push Polly's hand away, but he found he couldn't. What she was doing to him felt so marvelously good, so exciting that he could hardly move. "Polly," he said weakly. "You have to go back."
But the aroused young girl wasn't listening. All her attention was centered now on the hard virile feel of Adam's penis pulsing inside his breeches. Her pussy began to heat as she remembered how that same hard rod of flesh had felt up inside her pussy only half a day ago, and she knew she'd do almost anything now to insure that she never had to do without it in the future. She'd had a taste, now, and her body ached for more.
For the time being, Adam gave up his half-hearted attempts to reason with Polly. His cock throbbed maddeningly under her firm, eager touch, and for a moment he was afraid he was going to cum in his pants. His own hands began to roam over Polly's body, fondling her lushly ripened breasts through her dress. With fumbling fingers he began to unlace her bodice, wanting to see their naked beauty again.
But Polly's fingers were busy at his clothing too. She searched out the buttons to his breeches and began to undo them one by one. When she finally opened the waistband and then pulled down the flap in the front, her fingers were trembling with a fevered eagerness. Adam was wearing cotton underwear, through which she pawed until her groping fingers finally closed around the naked heat of his cock. They both gasped as her fingers tightened around the thick pulsing shaft. Adam shuddered all over as he felt the girl's touch, and Polly held on tight, fascinated by the pulsating heat of her lover's still-growing organ. She fought to work his bloated penis out into the open, pushing back his underwear, and a moment later she was staring down in wonder at the thick, blue-veined shaft in the moonlight.
"It's so big!" she murmured. "Did I have... did all that really go up inside me?"
The girl's frank words inflamed Adam. He tore open her bodice and, as her naked breasts spilled out into the evening air, his lips fastened on them greedily, sucking hard on the rapidly stiffening nipples. The two young people swayed together for several minutes, Adam's head buried against Polly's breasts while she stared down at his rigid cock. Her hand was now stroking excitedly up and down the big organ, pumping it madly. Polly was fascinated by the way the soft skin slid back and forth over the iron-hard inside core. Finally Adam tore his mouth away from the girl's nipples.
"God," he moaned. "If you keep that up, I'll cum."
Polly instantly let go of his swollen rod. She wasn't very familiar with the way he put it, but the farm animals had taught her how sex worked, and she remembered that hot wet spouting up into her vagina when Adam had made love to her earlier in the day. She also remembered the way his penis had so quickly shrunk afterward. It might be exciting to have that happen in her hand, but right now her body cried out for fulfillment, and the fulfillment it needed was to be filled with that long hard male organ.
"Take your clothes off, Adam," Polly said. She was filled with a reckless, wild aggressiveness. "Come on," she ordered, starting to pull his shirt over his head. Adam turned to make sure they were out of sight of the camp and then did as she asked, stripping off his shirt. His pants followed, and in a moment he was half-lying back on his blanket, his visibly throbbing penis arching upward toward the night sky.
"Now you," he hissed.
With a slow secret smile, Polly began to undress. She lifted her skirt up over her head and tossed it brazenly onto the ground, naked to the waist, wearing only her petticoat and bloomers. She halted for a moment, her chest heaving with excitement, her full rounded breasts rising and falling quickly. Then the petticoat followed, Polly pulled it over her head after the dress, her breasts rising high and taut with the movement, the nipples dancing and jerking as she moved. There was nothing but the bloomers left, and Polly quickly peeled them down over her legs, kicking them aside. With a sure sense of the theatrical she stood up so that Adam could see all of her. The moonlight shone down, glowing on her smooth skin, deep shadows filling the hollowed-out places on her body, making them deeper, richer, more mysterious. Her pubic hair was a soft blur. Polly reached up and loosened her hair, which had been pinned at the back of her head. It fell in a rich golden cascade down over her shoulders, long strands tumbling forward, to half-mask her deep-set breasts. Then she fell to her knees, straddling Adam's bare legs.
"Lie back," she said, moving up higher on his body until her loins were poised right over his. His fully erect cock jutted up, the underside brushing against her pubic hair, a stake waiting to impale her in the belly. Polly picked up one of the trembling boy's hands. "Put your finger in me," she whispered. "Make me ready."
Adam could hardly believe all this was happening. Only hours ago he had to carefully seduce the girl, overcoming her half-timid resistance. Now it was she who was seducing him. Half of him was appalled, the other half wild with excitement. His hand shot out, groping for her hair-lined pussy. Because she was sitting above him it was difficult to use his finger as she had asked, so he wormed his thumb into her slit, suddenly aware of how wet she was. His thumb-tip instantly grew slippery with her hot juices, making it easy to worm it up into her still tight but no longer virgin cunt.
"Aaaaahhhhhhhhh... yessssssssss!" Polly breathed out gratefully as she felt her vagina stretch open to receive Adam's invading thumb. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and shut her eyes, her head arching dreamily backward. Her hands were braced on Adam's lower belly, and one of them began to gently stroke over the heated shaft of his rock-hard penis. Now it was his turn to groan.
"Oh, let's get on with it!" he urgently hissed up at the nakedly crouching girl.
"Just a little more," she begged, her hips beginning to grind forward against his hand. She felt herself opening up, and knew she'd have to open a little more if she was going to comfortably take her lover's big thick prick up inside her body. Gradually the girl's slow dreamy motions became more excited, until she was humping powerfully against Adam's thumb. When she felt she couldn't stand any more, when it felt that she was going to have that same incredible experience she'd had when Adam made love to her the first time, Polly abruptly pulled back. Adam's thumb popped out of her cunt. A rich powerful odor of aroused female filled the little clearing.
"Now... can we do it this way?" she asked wonderingly, then without waiting for an answer, raised up high on her knees, positioned her body so that the wetly gaping mouth of her cunt was poised right over the upthrust tip of Adam's cock. A patch of moonlit sky behind her outlined her crotch. He stared at her swollen pussy lips, at the straggling tendrils of pubic hair, and knew his throbbing rod was about to be swallowed up inside her moist heated softness. She's going to fuck me... she's going to do it herself! he realized, and the knowledge set him aflame.
Taking Adam's warmly pulsating prick in one slender hand, Polly guided it's bloated tip toward the opening of her vagina. "Mmmmm- mmmm," she sighed as she took time to rub the rubbery end sensuously up and down the wildly sensitive length of her inner pussy slit. Not too familiar yet with her own anatomy, she felt a sharp jolt of pleasure as the spongy mass grazed her clitoris. She jerked, holding it there a moment, wondering what had happened. But then she worked the cock-tip lower in her slit again, determined to have its long thick length up inside her cunt.
She felt the blunted tip catch at her vagina, and quickly worked it a little way up inside with her hand, trembling all over with erotic delight as she felt her pussy open... open. "Oh... I want it!" she moaned, and let her body sink down, slowly impaling herself on Adam's rock-hard shaft of male flesh. The girl trembled with delight as she felt her inner depths being cleaved apart. It seemed to her as if she were being filled more than it was possible to be filled. Hot flames of wantonness flared up deep inside her shuddering belly.
"Nnnnnnggggggggggghhhhhhhhh," Adam grunted as he felt his wildly throbbing cock slowly engulfed in the liquid heat of her pussy. His back arched, driving the throbbing organ further up inside Polly's belly, and she gave a little gasp of mingled pleasure and pain. Knocked a little off balance, the girl leaned forward, once again bracing her hands on Adam's lower abdomen, her hands on his pelvic bones. Getting a good grip, she started to move her body slowly up and down, clumsily at first as she tried to coordinate all the movements, half paralyzed by the intensity of her pleasure. Adam helped her with his hands, guiding her hips, and in a few minutes, Polly was fucking herself, riding joyfully up and down the full length of Adam's hard thrusting cock. She began to experiment, working her hips in little circles, making Adam's stiffened member jerk around inside her. Then she fucked quietly, gently for a while, hardly letting her body touch his, aware only of the erotic feel of that wonderful meaty shaft gliding so smoothly in and out of her pleasure-drenched cunt.
While she was doing this, Adam reached up under her body, feeling with his fingers where his slippery prick disappeared up into Polly's wetly clasping vagina. Her full, hair-covered cunt-lips were soft and spongy under his touch. He worked his finger in further, actually shoving it up into her gushing depths a little way, alongside his cock. Polly moaned loudly, but asked him to stop. "It's too much... too big for me," she said.
Finally Adam asked the girl to sit up straight. She did as he asked, her hands resting on her own thighs, still impaled on his rigid cock, her hips still slowly grinding up and down against his loins. He stared at her, entranced. Her near-virgin nipples were dark in the moonlight, the breasts heavy and shadowy beneath. She was all curves, roundnesses sucking in at the waist and flaring back out into rich hips and thighs, her sex-flushed skin silvered by the moonlight. She was looking back down at him, her face soft, filled with passion and love. She no longer looked young and innocent, but for the moment was ancient womanhood itself, mature passion, a woman making love. Her hair hung forward, bright waves trailing over her shoulders and breasts, half-hiding her smolderingly alive eyes. At that moment Adam felt incredibly lucky, incredibly in love. As much as he already had of the girl, he wanted to possess her more, fuck deeper into her beautiful body.
"Polly!" he choked out, and gripping her hips with his strong young hands, began to screw his cock powerfully up into her hot little cunt. Sitting straight up as she was, Polly was suddenly impaled more than she had ever been before.
"Oooohhhhhh," she exclaimed in a low, throaty, rasping voice, her back arching in ecstasy. And for the third time in her life she started to cum, the most powerful experience she had yet experienced sweeping over her with all the savage smashing power of a storm wave. Adam saw her sleek stomach muscles suck sharply inward, and a moment later he felt his prick being squeezed powerfully by the girl's shuddering vaginal muscles. She writhed and moaned at him, her head twisting from side to side, her long hair whipping in the night air, silver in the moonlight. A low wailing cry of animal pleasure poured from the girl's throat, resounding through the silent forest, making the men around the wagon suddenly raise their heads and begin sweating with lust. Some almost got to their feet but a fierce glare from the sergeant made them sit down again.
"Oh, Polly," Adam groaned. "Now... now I'm going to cum too... Aaaaaaaggggggg-gggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhV' A wild ripping cry tore from his throat, and he arched up against Polly's pulsing cunt, thrusting his cock deep up into her body as hot jets of semen shot the length of his madly jerking cock, filling the girl's womb with his heated load of sperm. She thrashed above him, her lower body heating up again, boiling with his gushing cum. The panting girl ground her hips down hard, trying to fill as much of herself as possible with that spouting male organ. Thick streams of their mingled orgasmic fluids were forced back out of her cunt, coating Adam's hairy testicles with a slippery film. Still holding tightly to her writhing hips, he panted out the last of his orgasm until at last he fell back, exhausted. Polly continued to move above him awhile, her body shuddering with pleasure, making the most of his depleted cock while it was still hard enough to feel up inside her gently throbbing cunt.
Finally she put her arms around Adam and rolled over, taking him with her. They lay locked together for a long time, groin to groin, until they began to grow cold. Then Adam pulled the edge of the blanket around them and the young lovers fell asleep in one another's arms. But not before Polly had a chance to whisper into his ear.
"Don't send me back," she said softly. "I'll only run away again and look for you until I find you."
* * *
The next morning a rather sheepish Adam led Polly into camp and confronted subaltern Smythe. "Uh... she wants to stay with us," he said, trying not to grin but doing it anyhow. Smythe looked the two of them over.
"Very well," he said firmly. "But she'll have to work, and work hard."
The little cavalcade was on the road again by the time the first sunbeams were struggling through the thick forest canopy. Thin shafts of light danced with flies and midges. The men swatted uselessly for a while and then gave up. Polly sat in the back of the wagon, cutting strips of cold roast meat for lunch, placing them on thick slabs of heavy wheat bread. She and Adam went apart from the others again that night, making love. As the days went by, their love-making became more and more fierce, much deeper, until each of them wondered how they had ever got along without it. The other men grumbled and threw Adam an occasionally dirty, jealous look, but soon enough they grew used to Polly's presence, and began teasingly flirting with her. The sergeant kept a wary eye out for trouble, but none developed.
They were on the road for over ten days. The forest road led them east, until it ended at the Hudson River. A ferry took them across its broad expanse, and then they followed a wide straight road down its eastern bank. A few days later they crossed the Harlem River and joined the main army camp on Manhattan Island.
To the newcomers from Polly's village, the army camp was overwhelming. They had never imagined so many men could be gathered together in one place. General Washington's army consisted of about twenty thousand men, in camps scattered over Manhattan and the Long Island shore. In the camp Adam and Polly entered the tents of the regulars were laid out in neat rows, but the motley mass of volunteers straggled over the fields, in shelters of every description. Polly was put to work making soap -- hard, hot work melting down animal fat, mixing it with lye, and then stirring the foul-smelling combination together until it cooked into a strong harsh soap. There were enough other women in the camp so that she didn't feel conspicuous, and soon enough she became used to the grueling work. She and Adam shared a small tent that was set up in the untidy compound that housed Major Wyatt's volunteer regiment. They made love a little more quietly now, but regularly, every night. It was hot work in the sweltering August evenings, but they stuck to it, until they knew every inch of each other's bodies. During the day Major Wyatt drilled his green troops, sweating, cursing, trying his fumbling best to turn them into soldiers.
CHAPTER THREE
Major Abraham Wyatt was a tall, heavily built man of about forty. There was a wasted air about him, but he was still good-looking in a curiously dissipated sort of way. As Polly's father had remarked, he was a wealthy grain merchant. His military experience was small, limited to a junior officership in the militia during the French and Indian Wars of fifteen years earlier. His money had allowed him to raise a battalion of militia, with himself as Major.
Major Wyatt's headquarters at the New York camp were in a large old farmhouse, which he shared with his wife, Constance. One morning he was standing on the front porch, idly watching the camp life flow by, dressed in a mis-matched uniform consisting of a three- comer hat with cockade, the blue Continental army officer's coat with white facings and the two gold epaulettes due a major's rank, a homespun shirt, buckskin trousers, and on his feet, moccasins. A much tarnished silver gorget was tied negligently around his neck, and the red sash around his waist was dirty. Instead of the usual officer's small-sword, a huge cavalry saber dangled from a stained white shoulder belt. He stood, half-leaning on his officer's spearlike spontoon, occasionally spitting tobacco juice into the thick dust.
He was almost ready to go back inside the house when he saw a lovely young blonde girl walking by, lugging a heavy sack filled with fresh-made soap. He became intensely alert, studying her lovely face, her lush figure, and the way her low-cut dress let her full breasts bulge invitingly out. Suddenly an acid voice behind cut into his reverie.
"Well, Abe... found another little playmate?"
Wyatt jerked his head around and saw that his wife was standing behind him on the porch. Constance Wyatt was a robust, good-looking woman of thirty, red-haired, freckle-faced, and big-breasted, a decidedly lusty-looking woman.
"I think you need a new maid, Connie," he said gruffly, turning back to stare at the blonde girl in the camp street. She had set down her burden and was obviously trying to get her breath back.
"Oh, no!" the Major's wife exclaimed. "Not that one! The only problem with the last is that you've driven her nearly wild trying to drag her into bed. The next time I'm going to choose her myself, and she's going to be ugly as sin!" Major Wyatt grunted in annoyance. There was no hostility in his wife's voice, just a good-natured cynicism. The Wyatts had been married for nearly eighteen years. The alliance had started out distinctly physical, with Wyatt seducing a very willing Constance, who's father worked for his father. She became pregnant and they had married, but since then their ardors had cooled, as all ardors will. They had been drawn to one another through a desire for forbidden adventure, and once their adventure had been sanctified by marriage, each began to look elsewhere for sexual excitement. They seldom made love to one another.
Major Wyatt was trying to think of some good reason for his wife to take the girl in the street into their household when a dark handsome young man came up to her. From their tender greetings it was clear the two were close. No woman came into the camp without a male protector, and the Major glumly concluded this was how it stood between the two. The girl already had her man, and a good-looking one at that.
But now it was Constance Wyatt's turn to stare. The slim, vibrant good looks of the young man fascinated her. For the past several months she had been in a stage where only young boyish men would satisfy her. She ran her eyes greedily up and down his slender but strong body, noting with appreciation the considerable bulge in his tight breeches. The Major noticed her interest.
"Say, Connie," he said slowly. "I'm in bad need of an orderly. Old Jone's enlistment is up in a couple of days and he's going home. Those two out there are obviously a couple, and could use the spare room. I'll make you an offer -- the girl for your maid, the boy for my orderly. What do you say?"
"You rotten devil," Constance laughed mirthlessly. "Pimping for your own wife... " She almost refused, but there was something appealingly innocent about the young man's face. "All right," she finally replied. "You take care of the details." And turning around, she walked into the house, her full skirts billowing around her.
"Jones!" the Major bellowed. A frail, elderly man in his fifties came running, looking anxiously at his master. "Find out that man's company. Clear it with his sergeant, and he and the girl are to be detailed here at headquarters." The old man did as he was asked, asking the boy to take him to his sergeant. All the way there, Jones threw repeated quick glances at the girl, wondering if he should warn her about the Major, but not daring to. It was too close to the end of his enlistment and he was afraid of the Major. An hour later he brought the young couple, loaded down with their few belongings, back to the house and marched them into the Major's office.
"What's your name, boy?" the Major growled.
"Thatcher... Adam Thatcher, sir," the young man replied, swallowing nervously, wondering what he had done to-be hauled with Polly before the commanding officer.
"And your girl?"
"P-Polly," she answered herself.
"Very well, Thatcher. You and your... and the girl will be detailed here at headquarters. From now on you're my orderly and the... Polly, will be my wife's maid."
"But... "
"Silence!" the Major thundered. "Now go with Jones. He'll show you your duties."
So Adam and Polly moved into the big farmhouse. At first they were delighted. The duties were easy and they had a bedroom all to themselves. Unfortunately, the sounds of their wild love-making often filtered through the walls, inflaming the Major and his wife. Constance schemed to get Polly out of the way, while the Major kept thinking up impossible errands that would keep Adam out of the house for hours at a time. Slowly Polly became aware of the Major's lust-filled looks in her direction, but she virtuously determined to keep out of his way.
The Major's wife scored the first victory. It was late in August. Polly had been sent to the central stores depot to pick up the day's rations, a task that would take at least two hours. The Major was out drilling the troops. Adam was in the tack room, polishing harness. He and Mrs. Wyatt were the only ones in the house, as she had planned. It was time to strike.
"Thatcher!" she said, walking in on him. "I need something done."
"Yes, Ma'm," he said, springing obediently to his feet. Although his face remained dutifully impassive, he found himself appraising the Major's wife, deciding that she was indeed a handsome woman. Perhaps it was the suppressed excitement she was radiating, but Adam felt himself grow nervous as she led him into the kitchen.
"I want you to carry hot water into the bathroom," Constance told him. "Polly will be gone for hours, and I intend to bathe before the Major returns."
So Adam heated several large pots of water on the wood burning stove and hauled them into the bathroom, where he filled a large tin tub. When it was satisfactorily steaming, Constance, now in a robe, told him to keep some more heated and to stand by in the kitchen. He heard her splashing and singing softly in the bathtub and idly wished he could peak, trying to imagine what such a handsome woman would look like naked. Adam had been with Polly long enough for the first blush of infatuation to wear off and he was noticing other women again. He was still daydreaming when he heard Mrs. Wyatt's voice. "Adam... bring in some more hot water!" she called.
Adam had lugged the hot water as far as the bathroom door and his hand was on the handle when he suddenly realized that he was about to enter a woman's bathroom when she was in the bathtub -- and that the woman was his commanding officer's wife. Adam was deathly afraid of Major Wyatt. He hesitated, but Mrs. Wyatt's voice rang out again, sounding slightly angry. "Adam... where are you... the water's getting cold!"
Swallowing nervously, Adam went into the bathroom, his eyes darting toward the bathtub. Sure enough, Mrs. Wyatt was lying back in the shallow tub, the pink tips of her large freckled breasts thrusting up above the surface of the water. He quickly looked away. "Well... pour it in," Mrs. Wyatt ordered. Now Adam had to look, to make sure he didn't pour any of the steaming water directly onto Mrs. Wyatt. He took one long look at her large, well-shaped breasts as she moved to the head of the tub. She had to pull her legs up out of the way, and he saw her pubic hair shimmering under the water. It looked red, but he couldn't be sure.
"Thank you, Adam," Mrs. Wyatt said softly, giving him a warm smile as she unselfconsciously stretched out again in the tub, baring the full length of her naked body to his trapped gaze. Taking the empty pot, Adam quickly fled the bathroom.
Luxuriating in her warm tub, Connie laughed softly to herself, remembering how the handsome youth's staring eyes had nearly bulged from his head. "Oh... it's going to be so much fun to seduce him," she whispered happily. Thinking of his strong young body, she cupped her heavy breasts, massaging them, wishing it were his hands stroking over their ready surfaces. Then she reached underwater, slipping a finger up inside her pussy slit, softly caressing her eagerly responding clitoris, trying to imagine what his prick would look like. Would it be long and thick, like her husband's? Or perhaps long and slender? She finally decided that it would be long and slender, because that would fit the rest of Adam's pleasing anatomy. She felt a strong temptation to masturbate, but the orgasms she routinely gave herself always tired her enormously, and she wanted to save her best for the boy. Already an oily film from her internal lubrications was floating to the surface of the water.
She pulled the plug of the tub, so that the water could run down a drain in the floor. When she stood up she considered having Adam come in and dry her, but rejected the idea. Not only would it undoubtedly frighten him, but the bathroom was a poor place to make love. Not a bed in sight, so she dried herself, and putting on her robe again, headed up the stairs toward her bedroom, pausing at the top landing. "Adam," she called. "I want you to come upstairs." Adam, who had regained the safety of the tack room, heard her with dread. "Adam!" the Major's wife called more sharply. "I order you to come up here!"
Filled with trepidation, the young man started up the stairs. Mrs. Wyatt met him at the top and then went into her room, motioning for him to follow. She closed the door behind them, and then turned to face him.
"Do you find me attractive?" she asked bluntly.
"Uh... yes ma'm... I suppose so," Adam replied cautiously.
"Would you like to screw me?"
Adam stood gaping, stunned by the woman's direct approach. "My god... No!" he spluttered. "If the Major... "
"If the Major ever found out that he'd split you right down the middle with that big sword of his. Is that what you're thinking?"
Adam nodded dumbly.
"Well, let me ask you something else, my dear little Adam... what do you think he'd do if I told him you forced your way into my room and made improper advances... wouldn't that be just as bad?" When she received no reply from Adam she continued, a slow, lazy smile on her handsome face. "You know it would be... and that's just what I'll tell him if you don't do exactly as I say."
Adam knew he was trapped, but his mind ran on at breakneck speed, looking for a way out. However, Mrs. Wyatt's robe had loosened, falling open a little, showing him the deep fleshy valley between her large breasts, and lower down, a hint of softly shadowed pubic hair. Oh God, he thought. She was totally naked underneath the flimsy garment!
"Come here, Adam," Mrs. Wyatt ordered. "Ail right," she amended, when the fearfully trembling youth failed to respond, "then I'll come to you!" And she walked toward the frightened young man, the robe opening more and more, until he was able to see that his earlier guess had been right -- Mrs. Wyatt's pubic hair was indeed an autumn red!
And now one big rounded breast had struggled free of the loosening robe, swaying full and heavy as she moved closer, the pink nipple glaring unblinkingly at the stupefied Adam. He backed up until his legs collided with a chair. Losing his balance, he sat down heavily.
"That'll do just fine," Connie laughed, and she pushed Adam back down when he attempted to struggle up from the chair. "You just stay there, my handsome young man," she said forcefully. Her robe had come completely undone now, baring both breasts. She stood with her feet planted wide apart, her russet pubic hair plainly visible. Never before had Adam seen such a lusty woman.
"Now... I wonder what you've got in there," Connie said thoughtfully, and Adam saw that she was staring unabashedly at his crotch. "Let's find out," she continued, and dropping to her knees between his outstretched legs, began to rub her hands up the insides of his thighs, toward his groin.
"No!" he cried. "You'll get us both in trouble!"
Mrs. Wyatt looked up at him sharply. "You'll learn the real meaning of trouble if you don't do as I say," she said sweetly, but the menace behind her words made Adam's blood run cold. So he made no protest as the big, red-headed woman crouching on the floor between his legs began to massage his prick through the front of his breeches. And despite his fear, what she was doing began to feel good! Adam stirred uneasily in the chair as his organ slowly began to harden.
"Ah... it's alive and well," Mrs. Wyatt said with a teasing smile. "Suppose we give the poor thing some air. It's so tight in there." Without waiting for Adam's reply, Connie began to unbutton his breeches, pulling down the front flap until she was able to run her hand inside, as Polly had done that first night in the forest. Thinking of Polly, Adam immediately felt guilty, but then consoled himself that what was happening was beyond his control.
However, the circumstances were beginning to feel overwhelmingly erotic as Mrs. Wyatt's coo! fingers closed around his thickening shaft and dragged it out into the open. It throbbed in her hand, the bullet-shaped head swelling larger and larger.
"Oh, my, but he's pretty," Connie teased. "Do you have a name for him... ? No... ? Then I think I'll call him John Henry." Still smiling, the kneeling woman began to slide her hand up and down the pulsating member, causing Adam to squirm delightedly in his seat, his hands clutching at the chair arms for support.
"John Henry, you handsome fellow, would you like to kiss me?" She pulled lovingly on his cock. "Well, come closer dear," and leaning down, she pressed her lips against the bulbous head, parting them a little so that her tongue was able to snake out for one quick wet caress over the heated glans.
"Uuuuuunnnnngggghhhhh," Adam moaned, his hips writhing uncontrollably. He felt as if he were going to cum right then, but fought to hold back, horrified at the idea of shooting his load all over the Major's lady.
"Oh... you liked that, I can tell," Connie sighed. "Let's do it again."
This time there was no pretense. Her tongue shot out to lave hotly over the panting Adam's rigidly erect cock, sliding far down the shaft to where the pubic hair protruded from his opened breeches, gliding up the underside until it stroked maddeningly past the highly responsive glans. His hips twitched forward as his cock automatically tried to impale itself on something, anything hot and wet.
"Now, dear," Connie murmured to Adam's cock, her eyes growing big and hungry, "let's become really well acquainted."
Connie's red head came forward again, but this time her full sensuous mouth opened wide to admit Adam's swollen cock inside. He gaped in astonishment as he watched his throbbing member disappear up inside Mrs. Wyatt's soft warm mouth, her ovalled lips stretching wide around the thick girth. Can this really be happening? he asked himself, staring down at the half-naked woman kneeling between his spread legs. The wonderful feel of her buttery soft mouth on his cock gave him his answer. This was the first time anything like this had ever happened to Adam. When he was younger an old whore had offered to do just this, but he had embarrassedly declined. Now he was sorry he had, because it felt so incredibly good! Adam heard himself panting and moaning as Mrs. Wyatt began to suck on his cock, her tongue working powerfully against the underside of the head.
"Oh God!" he blurted out, his head lolling back.
"You like that?" Connie asked, pulling her mouth away from his trembling rod, obviously pleased. "Let's get on with it then!" But before continuing, she shrugged the rest of the way out of her robe, kneeling totally naked on the floor before the increasingly excited young man. He shivered at the touch of her naked flanks against the insides of his thighs as she came forward once again, her head dipping toward his upthrusting cock. This time he actually made a move toward her, mindlessly thrusting his wildly excited penis forward so that she could more easily capture his organ with her mouth. He watched her lips stretch again around the broad tip, then he was up inside her hotly sucking oral cavity.
"Ooohhhhhh... sweet Jesus," he moaned deliriously, his hips pumping up in ecstasy. All thought of resistance was behind him as he felt his penis entrapped inside her warm, wet, mouth. This time Connie began to slide her lips up and down the full length of his shuddering rod, making him wonder how it could all fit so far inside without gagging her. He stared down, stupefied, watching the intent look on his commanding officer's wife's face as she continued to run her tongue hotly over his throbbing shaft. His mind was barely functioning, swamped under an overload of obscene sensation. All fear was gone, replaced by a raging lust.
Knowing he was going to cum soon, Adam felt he had to sample the lush naked body before him, so he leaned forward, thrusting more of his prick up into Mrs. Wyatt's face, then reached down underneath her body and began to fondle her big, sol"d breasts, teasing the nipples, making them grow hard. She seemed to like what he was doing, because the intensity of her sucking grew, and she began to moan and whimper around the thick fleshy shaft stuffed into her mouth.
"Oh... my God!" Adam blurted out. He was going to cum... he knew it! His balls were beginning to swell, ready to pour out their hot load. Adam's body began to arch, and his hands fell away from his tormentor's tits, scrabbling ineffectually at the arms of the chair. Then they reached up to tangle in Mrs. Wyatt's curly red hair, drawing her head down tight against his loins.
"Oh... Christ... you fucking bitch!" he cried. "Suck harder... suck harder!" Completely out of control, he held the madly sucking woman's head down hard, screwing his near-bursting cock in and out of her flushed face until he felt the damn burst and the first burning rush of semen boiled up out of his testicles and into the back of her throat. "Aaaaaaaaggggggg-gggghhhhhhhh!" Adam cried out, his heels digging into the floor, his back arching until he thought it was going to crack. All the while he was cumming, Mrs. Wyatt kept sucking powerfully, her mouth clamped hungrily around his jerking shaft. It was almost more than he could bear, the most intensely overpowering climax of his life -- almost as if she were drawing the very life up out of his balls. Sobbing with pleasure Adam hung on tight while Connie swallowed as fast as she could, her Adam's apple bobbing madly up and down as she did her best to capture every spicy drop of her young lover's hotly gushing semen. She choked once but got herself back under control, working on his trembling member until it stopped its obscene spouting and began to shrink inside her mouth. At last she let it slip free, pulling away slowly. For a moment her lips and the cock she had just sucked dry were linked by a long white thread of cum. It broke, running down her chin until she finally licked it away, her tongue darting quickly out of her mouth and back inside with the last savor of Adam's orgasm.
Connie laughed as she watched Adam collapse back into the chair, completely spent. "You're a brave lad," she said. "You took that like a soldier, and believe me, I've had a lot of experience with soldiers... now come on...
it's time you did do something for me!"
Adam shook his head weakly, but Mrs. Wyatt pulled him to his feet. "Get out of your clothes," she ordered. "I want to see what you look like naked."
Adam complied. Why not? Might as well be hanged for a sheep as well as a lamb. After what had happened between him and his Major's wife, he might as well do anything else she asked. With trembling fingers he stripped off his clothing until he stood naked in front of her.
"You make my mouth water," Connie said huskily, staring at Adam's strong, well-shaped body. Her wetly throbbing pussy ached with need. "Come over to the bed," she urged, drawing Adam forward. HQ came willingly enough, lying down next to her, wondering what she could want with a man as totally spent as himself. He looked ruefully down at his shrunken penis and then back at Mrs. Wyatt.
"Never you mind that," she said, divining his meaning. "Everything happens in its own good time. But now... I want you to touch me, to caress me."
Adam propped himself up on one elbow, looking at the handsome naked woman lying next to him. He suddenly felt full of desire to touch her just as she had asked. Her full breasts had flattened out to the sides a little as she lay on her back but when he finally reached out to cup them in his hands he found that they were as firm and solid as ever, and he recklessly buried his face in the silky mounds, sucking the prominent nipples into his mouth.
"Oh, yes," Connie breathed happily, her breasts throbbing with erotic pleasure. "Suck them... suck them just like I sucked John Henry."
Her hands came up to cradle Adam's head, guiding it from one swollen orb to the other, until he had both nipples standing up wet and stiff. "Now pay some attention to my quim," she sighed happily. "Put your hand between my legs."
Adam did as she asked, running one hand slowly down over her quickly rising and falling belly until it was stealing through the crisp tight curls of her pubic hair. He fumbled a little, looking for the way in, then his fingers felt moisture and slipped up inside her hot and ready slit. He began to rub enthusiastically up and down the full length of the fevered furrow, feeling more moisture gush out of her hidden depths.
"Good... so good," Connie panted, her body on fire from the boy's rough untrained caresses. "But can't you be a little more discriminate? Touch my clitoris... make it go mad!"
"Clitoris?" Adam asked in confusion.
"Yes... that little... oh, never mind talking, let me show you!" And brushing Adam's hand away, Connie sat up, her heavy breasts swaying forward. She unselfconsciously spread her legs and, reaching down, parted her pussy lips with her finger, completely baring the bright pink slit inside to Adam's fascinated gaze.
"Here," she said, pointing to a small fleshy protrusion half-hidden behind a thin membrane. "This is my clitoris. It's very sensitive. Rub it... touch it... lick it if you want. But for God's sake, do something!"
Kneeling next to the pleading redhead, Adam obediently pried apart her fleshy vaginal lips, his fingers slipping and sliding in her fast-flowing cunt juices until he had isolated the little pink pleasure bud. Then he touched it experimentally, his finger rasping over its tender surface.
"Aaaahhhhhhhhhh! Connie moaned, her back arching powerfully. "Yes... that's good, but your finger's too dry. Get it wet and do it some more!"
Adam looked down at the woman writhing under his touch, glad to be in control at last. Now it was his turn to do something to her. Sinking his fingertip into the deep well of her cunt, he swirled it around until it was slippery and shiny with her sex juices. Only then did he return to her waiting clitoris, his finger gliding slickly across the sensitive little bud. Back and forth, back and forth his finger flickered, with him watching every move, every reaction of her pulsing cunt.
"Ohhhhhhhh... my God... oooooooo- ooooooooohhhhh," Connie moaned, her fingers clutching spasmodically at the bedsheets. A hot roaring tidal wave of pleasure was washing out over her genitals, radiating from her well-stroked clitoris, until she could stand it no more. "Now... now... up inside me!" she begged, which was what Adam had been waiting for. While he had been playing with her rapidly swelling clit, he had eagerly watched the deep dimple that marked the entrance to Mrs. Wyatt's vagina flower open more and more as his finger intensified the hungry need up inside her belly. As she spoke, he was already reaching down with his other hand, letting her wetly quivering cunt lips close around the red bursting flower of her clitoris. One finger caught for a second at her vaginal opening, then slipped smoothly up inside. Her hot and ready cuntal walls spasmed in greeting, clamping down excitedly around his intruding digit.
"More... more... fill me with more!" Connie begged. Adam found this an easy chore. Even though her cunt clasped tightly around whatever he put into it, he was amazed by how much it could take up inside its elastic depths. How different it felt from Polly's tight little trap, but at the same time it wasn't loose. It clung lovingly to first one finger, then two, and finally three. He remained kneeling above the panting woman, watching the thick stump of his three fingers flashing in and out of Mrs. Wyatt's red-furred cunt, her inner juices dripping down into his palm and smearing over the smooth skin of her sleek inner thighs. And while he sawed his hand in and out, one of Mrs. Wyatt's hands slid down, seeking out his limp cock and suddenly it wasn't so limp any more.
"It's getting hard," she moaned. "Oh... I knew it would get hard again!"
It was no surprise to Adam. As soon as he had started to play with this shameless woman's naked body, he knew he wanted to fuck her. He felt his prick grow heavy and hard in her expertly working fingers, until it was throbbing with new life. Now it was his turn to be the master.
"Open your legs," he commanded, and Connie's full thighs fell hungrily open. He pulled his eagerly pulsating hardness free of her grasp and scrambled between the moaning woman's legs, holding his erect organ in one hand, working the heavy foreskin back and forth over the steel core inside. "I'm going to fuck you," he growled. "I'm going to fuck you, Mr. Major Wyatt!"
"Oh, yes," the eager redhead begged.
"Fuck me with him. Put John Henry up inside my quim and fuck me with him!" All the time she was speaking, Connie's heels were digging into Adam's buttocks, drawing him closer and closer to her wide-spread genitals. At last she felt the swollen tip of his prick against her wetly waiting cunt and took a deep breath, ready to beg him once again to fuck her.
But it wasn't necessary. As soon as he saw the head of his cock start up inside that red-fringed pussy, Adam lost all control. He lunged forward, burying his "John Henry" all the way to the hilt up inside Mrs. Wyatt's hotly clasping pussy, driving the air from her lungs. "Uuuummmmppphhhhh!" she gasped loudly, the breath whistling between her teeth, and before she could get another breath Adam began to fuck hard, hard and fast, his cock pounding relentlessly up into the stunned woman's deepest recesses, each powerful thrust opening up new territory.
Connie fought to regain her breath. "God!" she finally panted. "You fuck like a bull!"
Mrs. Wyatt's flattering words inflamed Adam, and he continued to pound his rampant shaft up into her soft, giving depths. "Oh, you hot bitch... I'm going to fuck you until you scream for mercy!" he snarled down at the writhing woman, all his resentment for the way he and Polly had been treated by the Wyatts exploding out of him in an orgy of sexual domination. He wanted to see this arrogant woman cringe, he wanted to hear her beg for mercy. But he only succeeded in making the insatiable Connie beg for more. Fuck hard as he would, she fucked back harder, until he felt as if her strong legs wrapped demandingly around his m - body were going to break his ribs.
Adam was flagging a bit when he felt Mrs. Wyatt slow down a little beneath his laboring body. "All right, my strong young stud," she panted up at him, "you've shown me you can fuck hard... now show me you can fuck slow and deep. That's the best way for me to cum." Gratefully Adam slowed his stroke, until his wetly glistening shaft was sliding slowly, languorously in and out of Mrs. Wyatt's well-oiled cunt. "Like this?" he asked hopefully. "Yesssssss... yesssss," she crooned happily. "Oooooohhhh... it feels so wonderful up inside me."
Adam began to saw his pulsing hardness back and forth from side to side then changed to large probing circles, feeling Mrs. Wyatt's clasping cuntal lips pulled first one way and then another. He was so deep in her it seemed to him that his balls were buried half way up inside the woman's pussy, her hairy cunt-flesh slipping and sliding against the tightly wrinkled sac.
Connie was puffing like a steam engine. "Oh... oh... so close!" she moaned. "But you're changing the rhythm too much... straight in... make me climb, lover... fuck me steady!"
Adam did as she asked, grinding his pelvis against hers, fucking straight in and out in short deep strokes, keeping a constant slow rhythm. He could feel his pubic bone grinding solidly into the woman's pussy, rubbing regularly against her clitoris. Her soft genital flesh gave before him like butter. Now, with each stroke, her loins rose to meet his, her motions slow and powerful. Adam straightened up a little so he could watch the Major's incredible wife while he fucked her. Her face had lost its shrewd hardness, had become softened by passion, a deep flush stealing over the features. Her lust-glazed eyes glittered up at him. Her lips looked hot and swollen, and lower down, her breasts had swollen to almost twice their normal size, the nipples taut and shiny. And unseen, up inside her cunt, the flesh rippled and squeezed around his long hard prick...
Suddenly Connie's face changed, a look of almost frightened awe coming over it. "Oh! Now! Now! she whimpered. "Fuck me hard... Fuck me deep! I'm... I'm going to cum!" Sensing the gathering storm, Adam lunged forward, and reaching under Mrs. Wyatt's body, seized her by the shoulders, holding her tightly down against his surging loins. At the same time he picked up the tempo, fucking harder and deeper but still maintaining contact with his pubic bone against Mrs. Wyatt's ultra-sensitive clit.
"FAaaaaiiiieeeeeeee!" Connie suddenly shrieked, and her entire body began to buck, quick writhing undulations that nearly threw Adam from her climaxing body. He hung on tight, his hands digging into the tops of her shoulders, keeping up the tempo, repeatedly plowing his iron-hard rod into her hotly gushing cunt. The sweating young man was able to maintain control for a while, but then the half-crazed woman's ass-cheeks began to fuck upward against his sperm-bloated testicles and he too started to cum.
"Aaaarrrrrggghhhhhhhh," he groaned loudly, his back arching in sweet agony as his jerking tube spewed its hot load up into Connie's receptive womb.
"Oh, yes... lover... Cum in me... fill me with your hot sperm!" Connie panted happily, and as the last of her orgasm passed by, she began to laugh, joyfully, delightedly, grateful for the wonderful fucking Adam had given her. For a moment he was afraid she was laughing at him, but then recognized it for the compliment it was.
"You liked that?" he grunted, jetting the last of his semen up into Mrs. Wyatt's cunt, then collapsing down on her in a panting heap.
"Oh, yes!" Connie said happily, her arms winding around his body, pulling him down tightly against her sex-damp body. He could feel her generous tits mashing excitingly against his chest. "You know what you haven't done to me yet?" Connie asked with a chuckle. "You haven't kissed me." And drawing down his head, locked her lips greedily to his, her tongue darting into his mouth, friendly and playful. If Connie had seemed like a dangerous lioness to the young boy a short while before, now she seemed like a large playful kitten. Adam was beginning to feel proud of himself, proud of the way he had obviously pleased this experienced woman, when suddenly he heard a riot of sounds outside the house, yells, running feet, the thunder of horse's hooves -- and above all, the bull-like roar of the Major's voice.
"Adam!" he was shouting. "Adam... get your worthless ass out here!"
"Oh my God!" Adam moaned, and virtually leaped from Connie's sated body, his still semi-hard cock popping audibly from her lovingly clenched vagina. Furiously he began to pull on his clothing, while Connie laughed at him from the bed.
"Don't worry so much," she said. "He's more bark than bite."
But Adam was dressed and out the door in less than a minute, racing down the stairs, still buttoning his breeches. He dashed out into the yard, where the Major was just dismounting. "Here, sir," he panted, frightened that there would be something about him that would help the Major divine the actual truth. But the Major was obviously too preoccupied.
"Where in thunderation have you been," he asked gruffly. "Get my gear together. We're moving out at once."
"Moving out?" Adam gaped. "Where?"
"None of your business!" the Major roared. Then he relented. "To Long Island," he said. "The British have finally arrived. General Howe is standing off Staten Island with five hundred ships and thirty thousand men."
CHAPTER FOUR
Adam and Major Wyatt lay prone on a low hill, looking down at Flatbush on the Brooklyn shore. Adam's mouth was gaping in astonishment as he watched a huge fleet of barges ferrying British and Hessian troops onto the beaches. From where he lay he could clearly hear the shrill skirl of fife music rising above the troops. The hot August sun beat down brightly, reflecting back the mitered brass helmets of the Hessians, glinting from the sharp points of thousands of bayonets. A sea of bright red uniforms, blue uniforms, crossed white cartridge belts.
"With this last batch, there must be twelve, fifteen thousand Redcoats down there," the Major murmured. "A damned sight more men than we have." The Major sounded worried. Which made Adam worry. At least Polly's not here, he thought gratefully. The women had been left back at the main camp on Manhattan. The women! Adam felt a quick flash of emotion, guilt for having betrayed Polly, just as he remembered Mrs. Wyatt's lush, passionate body. He stirred uneasily next to the Major, but all the Major's attention was on the troop movements below. Adam found the Major a very different man in the field. His irascibility was gone. He was almost jovial, confiding in Adam in a way he would never have done back in camp. The prospect of battle obviously mellowed him. He began to point out the positioning of the troops to Adam.
"Over there on the Brooklyn Heights is our center," he said, pointing toward heavily fortified hills. "Old Israel Putnam's commanding there... General Washington hopes Howe will attack him there, if he hasn't learned a lesson from Bunker's Hill up in Boston."
"Learned a lesson?" Adam asked. "I thought the British took Bunker's Hill."
"Took it at the cost of nearly half their attack force. Nobody can call that a victory. If they attack Putnam head on, he'll cut 'em to pieces. We'll chase the Lobsterbacks into the bay."
I hope so! Adam thought grimly. The sight of those thousands of obviously well-drilled troops massing in the cornfields below filled him with foreboding.
Adam's worries were well justified. Four days later, under cover of darkness, General Howe marched ten thousand British troops in a flanking movement behind the American lines. Adam and the Major had just climbed up onto their observation hill when the British blow fell. The sun was up, red and glaring, when Adam heard loud cries and the sharp crackle of musketry from behind and to the left.
"What in damnation...?" the Major mumbled. He and Adam watched intently for a while, then individuals could be seen running back through the flat lowlands. The individuals became small groups and then whole companies of Americans. "The British have got around behind us!" the Major shouted in alarm. "Here they come!"
Adam stared hard through the drifting smoke and dust that was fast enveloping the fields, and saw solid masses of scarlet coats advancing through the trampled wheat and corn. "You men!" the Major roared. "Stand fast! " Some of the green troops of his command were nervously getting to their feet, obviously ready to put as much distance between themselves and those red coats as they could. "The first man who runs gets this!" and drawing his huge saber, the Major balanced it over his head. "Now all of you... on your feet! Form a line like we've practiced!"
Wyatt's militiamen got to their feet, stringing out into a ragged uncertain line. The British were getting closer, and Adam became horribly aware that he had no bayonet. His fowling piece was not fitted with the necessary barrel lugs for one. "Cock your muskets," the Major said, his voice firm, more quiet. "Take aim... fire!"
Adam felt his fowling piece buck back against his shoulder, unaware that he had actually pulled the trigger. With a ragged crash muskets went off up and down the whole American line. A dense blue cloud of power smoke rose above the man, and when it cleared, Adam saw that many of the British had fallen.
They halted for a moment, repairing the jagged holes in their line, then came on again with measured tread, loading and firing without breaking step. Adam heard the whistle of musket balls all around him, and some of his companions began to fall.
Above the horrible din he heard the Major's steadying voice. "Half-cock... prime your pans... " Adam tore open a paper cartridge with his teeth and with trembling fingers poured some powder into the flash-pan of his gun. "Load," the Major intoned, and Adam poured the rest of the powder down the barrel and rammed the paper cone containing the bullet after it, tamping it all down tight with his ramrod. "Return ramrods," the Major ordered. "Present... fire!" Again that frightful crash. Adam saw the man next to him go down with a broken shoulder. He had forgotten to take the ramrod from the barrel of his musket before he fired.
This time fewer British went down and their even line came forward, the sun glinting on their needle-sharp bayonet points. There was time for one more volley, and then the British were upon the Americans. "Stand, you bastards!" Major Wyatt was screaming, whipping frightened men back into line with the flat of his sword. Adam saw the drawn scared face of a British soldier glaring at him from over a bayonet point and dodged aside just in time to escape being impaled. Frantic with fright he reversed his fowling piece, using it as a club, and brought the butt crashing down on the Redcoat's head. The man collapsed with a groan, and for a moment Adam could only think of how young he looked as he lay twitching on the ground, as young as Adam himself.
Then he heard a scream and saw the man next to him writhing on the point of a British bayonet. Adam's rifle had been wrenched from his hand but he reached to the back of his belt and grasped his tomahawk, burying it in the redcoat's skull. For a moment there was quiet around him, and he saw the Major, a little out in front of his troops, cutting huge swaths through the British ranks with his saber. Then the British fell back, but Adam saw that it wasn't because they were beaten -- they had swerved aside to chase a larger body of fleeing Americans.
The Major sized the situation up at once. "Fall back!" he ordered, anxious to get his troops to safety before they were surrounded and cut off. He managed to keep enough of them together to cut their way back to the heights where General Putnam's line still stood firm behind formidable fortifications. Adam and the others sank down on the ground, the breath sobbing in their throats.
"Look!" Major Wyatt suddenly called out. "Lord Stirling's still holding on the right!"
Adam scrambled to his feet and looked over the ramparts. Down below, the right wing of the American army stood like a rock. "Those are Smallwood's Marylanders... and over there, Hasiet's Blue Hens' from Delaware... damn fine troops!" Looking where the Major pointed, Adam saw a compact body of well-uniformed Americans holding fast around a large house on the chores of Gowanus creek, protecting the retreat of the main forces of the American right wing. Then they too fell back. "That's Stirling," Wyatt said, pointing out a big man directing the action.
More and more American troops fell back behind the creek until most were safe. Then Adam saw Stirling gather a small group of men and point toward the British. "My God... he's going to attack!" Major Wyatt said in awed admiration.
Adam saw Stirling raise his sword over his head and lead his small band forward. They crashed into the advancing British line. Surprised by this unexpected attack, the British fell back for a moment, but then they rallied.
"Oh, no," Adam moaned as a sea of scarlet uniforms engulfed Stirling. He saw him knocked to the ground and expected to see him bayoneted, but to his relief, the Scottish Lord was hauled to his feet and hustled toward the rear, a prisoner.
But his audacious attack had paid off. By noon the battle was over, with the Americans secure behind their central earthworks. To the Major's surprise, Howe failed to follow up his advantage.
"No surprise to me, guv'ner," a leathery British sergeant growled, one of the few who had been taken prisoner. "The only speed old Howe's got in 'im is a slow crawl. 'E's bloody cautious after wot 'appened to 'im at Bunker's 'ill." They could hear him mumbling to himself as he was led back to captivity toward Newgate in Connecticut. Adam shuddered as he thought of the fate in store for the man at that notorious hell-hole.
Two more days passed without further activity from either side, than a tremendous storm broke. Late that night Major Wyatt ordered his remaining troops to stand to. "We're evacuating Long Island," he said glumly. "John Glover's 'web-footed infantry' is going to row us back across to Manhattan."
The beach was a milling madhouse of struggling troops. The storm screamed and howled about them, confusing men, disordering regiments. "We go last," Wyatt warned his men. "We're staying behind as skirmishers for the rear guard."
For six hours Adam watched the boats appear out of the night, ready for another load of shivering, soaked men. Once there was a disturbance. One man, maddened by fear, screaming to be let aboard a boat, threatening to swamp it, his wild cries likely to alert the British. With a muffled curse Major Wyatt sprang forward, his huge saber glittering above his head. There was the sodden chunk of steel biting into flesh and the man went down, dead. Other men, made restless by the initial panic, fell silent, eyeing the lividly angry Major. "The same thing to the next man who loses his nerve," he growled. Adam shuddered, looking down at the huddled corpse on the ground. His fear of the Major deepened, along with his admiration for his courage.
Finally the last of the troops loaded, Adam among them. The storm died but a heavy fog had risen, masking them from the British. Dawn was just beginning to break when they pulled away from the shore, and looking back, Adam saw a very tall officer in cloak and boots coming along the shore, heading for the last boat. "General Washington," Major Wyatt whispered to Adam, who stared at his supreme commander, one of the last to leave Long Island.
Once ashore on Manhattan, Major Wyatt led his weary militia back up the island to their original camp. They stumbled in toward late afternoon, and the Major let them sleep where they fell. He himself managed to wash before he collapsed into his bed. Polly found Adam wandering about the camp, looking for her, and took him to their room where she fussed over him, insanely glad he was still alive. They fell asleep in one another's arms.
* * *
Major Wyatt woke the next morning reasonably rested but irritable. His wife compounded his irritation by giving a glowing account of her seduction of Adam. Then the Major understood the source of his irritation. He was homy.
It didn't help to have Polly serving the breakfast. The nearness of her lush little body bustling around the kitchen only served as a reminder of what the Major had as yet been unable to obtain. His few approaches to the girl had been met with demure yet positive rebuffs. Does she have to wear such damned low-cut dresses? the Major famed to himself as Polly bent over to serve him his eggs. He scowled down her deep cleavage.
"What the hell are you grinning about?" he snapped at his wife when he found her glancing smugly in Adam's direction.
"Why, Abraham... I do believe you're jealous," she cooed. "What's the matter... not getting anywhere with your little blonde Venus?"
So by the time the afternoon rolled around, Major Wyatt was in a fine rage. The defeat of the American forces on Long Island had been a sharp blow to his military pride, and now meeting defeat in his own house was too much. He was passing through a hallway when he noticed the door to Adam and Polly's room open. Glancing in, he saw the girl inside, adjusting her bodice, which was partially unlaced so that the major portion of her richly swelling breasts spilled out before his fascinated gaze.
"Oh!" Polly exclaimed in surprise, fumbling with the bodice. "I didn't know there was anyone in the house."
Which stopped the Major in his tracks. There wasn't anyone in the house but himself and Polly. His wife had ordered Adam to drive her out in the gig, and the Major had no doubt what the two were doing at that very moment. He ground his teeth in frustrated rage, and something seemed to snap inside him.
"Now, my dear girl," he rasped, stepping inside the room and firmly closing the door behind him, "It's time we renegotiated the terms of your employment here."
Polly's eyes opened wide with fright. She had no doubt what the Major was talking about. The glittering lust in his eyes as he stared at her partially exposed breasts was clear enough. She shrank back, saying nothing, and her obvious fear only served to further inflame the Major. He advanced toward her with threatening step.
"You... you shouldn't be in here," Polly said feebly, her hands crossed protectively over her tits.
"My dear girl... it's my house, you're my wife's maid. That's generally construed to give me some strong rights over you."
Polly continued to back up until she thumped against the wall, genuinely frightened, feeling cornered. She had never quite understood the Major. His veneer of sophistication over a backwoods crudity confused her as much as his sudden military ability had confused Adam.
"W-what do you mean?" she stammered.
"Oh, for God's sake!" he exploded. "You can't be that dense. It means I want to sleep with you!"
"But you can't mean that!" she cried. "I belong to Adam... and what about your wife?"
To her surprise the Major burst out in loud laughter. "What the hell do you think those two are doing now? They're out in the woods somewhere coupling like a pair of animals!"
"No! That's impossible!" Polly exclaimed, her eyes wide with horror. "Adam would never do a thing like that to me!"
"He isn't doing it to you... he's doing it to my wife," the Major chuckled. "They made love together just before we left for Long Island. She told me about it. Perhaps you'll feel better if you know she had a difficult time seducing him, but he seems to have taken to it like a duck to water. And now I want my part. An eye for an eye, a woman for a woman!"
"You're lying," Polly said desperately. "And even if you're not, I still wouldn't do... do what you ask. I love Adam and could never betray him, even if he... " Polly had to choke back the tears. There had been something strange about Mrs. Wyatt's behaviour ever since Adam left for the front line. And that strange look Adam had given the older woman this morning, when she told him to hitch up the horses. All at once her heart was breaking. For a moment anger flared up inside her, as the Major had hoped it would, and she toyed with the idea of letting him make love to her just to get revenge on Adam. But she immediately rejected the idea. After all, it was a man's nature to be unfaithful, and a woman's to remain constant... wasn't it?
"Please leave," she said. "I want to be alone."
Suddenly the Major's civilized manner, a thin coating at the best of times, purchased for him by his father at the best schools his backwoods birthplace could supply, evaporated, and he became the rude, violent woodsman he always was at heart.
"Why, you damn slut!" he bellowed. "Camp followers don't have the choice! You'll do as I say!" he said.
But his threats only served to stiffen Polly's resolve. "No," she said. "You can't frighten me. You wouldn't dare try to force me to... to go to bed with you! I intend to remain faithful to Adam!"
The Major suddenly became sly. "You love that young puppy, even though you're not married to him... is that right? Even though you live together in sin."
"I... yes!"
"And you wouldn't want to see anything happen to him?"
"Of... course not!" Polly replied. The Major's sudden shift in tone made her nervous.
"Our commanding general has sent out a request for... volunteers, for a very dangerous mission infiltrating the British lines. The last three men we sent out were caught, and hung as spies. You wouldn't want to see your little Adam... volunteer... for that mission... would you?"
Polly's breath sucked in sharply. "You wouldn't... you couldn't!" she gasped.
"I could... I will!" he said coldly. "Unless... "
"Unless I sleep with you," she finished softly.
"I'll give you a minute to decide."
The next minute was an eternity to Polly. Her whole being cried out against surrendering her body to this cruel man. But if he meant what he said about sending Adam to almost certain death... several times she tried to force herself to accept the Major's terms, but nothing came out when she tried to speak. The Major stood, one hand on his hip, studying a large pocket watch. "Your minute's up," he said flatly and started out the door.
"Wait!" Polly cried. When the Major turned around questioningly, she said in a low voice, "I'll do what you ask."
"You're showing sense," he smirked at her. "Now, let's get to it."
"Here... now?" she quavered. When she had agreed to the Major's lewd request, she hadn't imagined she'd have to pay off so soon. And in the very room where she and Adam... but then she remembered that Adam had already betrayed her, and perhaps in this same room!
"Come on... take off your clothes," Major Wyatt said gruffly. "Or do I have to do it for you?" All the while he was speaking, he felt as if he were a stranger, watching himself, loathing himself for forcing his attentions on this obviously terrified young girl. But it was almost as if he couldn't stop himself. This kind of thing had happened before, with his mind split into two parts, one part civilized, hating what was happening, the other part savage, direct, merciless. In his youth he had killed a man when in a similar state. His self-loathing only made him all the more vicious. "By damn... you'll do as I ask," he snarled, and moving forward, seized Polly's bodice in his powerful grip and ripped it loose. Her ripe young breasts popped nakedly out into the open, the nipples pink and puckered with fear. "My God," he murmured, staring at their lush perfection. Greedily his hand closed around one, cupping its resilient softness. Polly stood perfectly still, white and motionless while the lust-filled Major mauled her breasts, one after the other. Then his hot hungry mouth dropped to her nipples, sucking one up inside its heated interior.
"Ahhh," Polly whimpered, temporarily overcome by the sensation. Strange... it felt so... exciting, even when she didn't want it done! Finally the Major pulled back. "Now, are you going to get out of those clothes or am I going to do for you?" he said menacingly. Wordlessly, Polly began to undress, slipping her dress over her head. Since the weather had been very hot, she was wearing little underneath, just a short shift and her bloomers. Major Wyatt watched avidly as the girl's lovely young body was slowly revealed to him. After removing everything but her bloomers, Polly stood before him, naked to the waist, her shapely legs bare from just above the knees, obviously embarrassed and having trouble forcing herself to take off her last protecting garment and bare her most secret parts to his leering gaze. But a threatening half-step forward by the Major helped make up her mind. Quickly she stripped her bloomers off and stood before him totally naked.
"Marvelous," he breathed softly, staring openly at the girl's nude perfection, particularly at the silky patch of blonde pubic hair that fluffed out from between her thighs. He himself began to undress, tossing his uniform coat in the corner. His shirt came next, and in a moment he was naked to the waist. Polly, to her horror, found herself admiring the man's broad powerful chest, then quickly remembered the situation she was in, trembling with dread as she waited for her would-be ravisher to strip off his buckskin breeches and reveal to her the fleshy instrument he meant to use on her unwilling body. But to her surprise, he kept his breeches on for the moment.
"Come here," he ordered the cringing Polly, and when she didn't move, jerked her to him, his powerful arms circling her body, holding her close while his mouth mashed down on hers in a long passionate kiss. She fought to keep her lips closed, but his tongue wormed into her mouth nevertheless, darting sensuously against her own. "Mmmmmpppphhhh," she gasped, struggling in his iron grip, vitally aware of his powerful chest pressing against her.
The Major too was aware of that pressure, feeling Polly's firm tits mashing excitedly against him. One hand reached down, stroking up her flanks as he turned a little to one side so that he could once again cup a lovely breast. The nipple began to grow hard under his insistent fondling, even though Polly fought to not respond. He reached lower, his hand running down over the girl's cringing belly while one knee tried to force its way between her legs, opening up her loins to his hand. But Polly fought back, keeping her thighs pressed tightly together as the Major's roving hand glided over her softly furred pubic mound, denied entry to the deep slip lower down.
"We'll have to change this, you little minx," Wyatt growled, suddenly pushing the surprised girl back toward the double bed she and Adam shared. Caught off balance she fell backward, her lower legs catching against the mattress. She sprawled onto the bed, her legs kicking up high and wide apart. Realizing how vulnerable she now was, Polly desperately tried to clamp her legs together again, but she was too late. With a grunt of triumph the Major launched himself forward, thrusting his powerful body between those soft naked thighs, his fingers sinking into their soft flesh.
"Oooooohhhh," Polly moaned in shame and horror as she lay pinned to the bed by the big man's weight, her legs defenselessly spread apart on either side of him. Unable to bear her shame, she closed her eyes in defeat.
The Major was kneeling on. the floor next to the bed, holding tightly to Polly's legs, which trailed over the edge, and right before his eyes was the prize he had sought for so long -- Polly's naked blonde cunt! He stared hungrily down at the plump prize, his eyes prying past the silky strands of her pubic hair, trying to see further inside. But the girl's pussy was so tight and full-fleshed that the lips clung tightly together even with her legs spread apart. He had to get inside!
Sliding his hands slowly up Polly's thighs, his hands savoring the velvet softness, he reached high enough to place his thumbs on each of her pussy lips, then, with an excruciatingly slow movement, pried them apart, baring the glistening pink valley inside. He slipped a thumb into the fleshy slit, possessively caressing the thin inner lips, brushing over the rosy little nub of the girl's clitoris, probing at the tight dimple of her vaginal opening. Almost immediately his thumb grew wet as Polly's internal lubricants began to flow. My God, this girl gets wet fast! the Major thought. He could literally see the beads of moisture forming on the inner lips of her cunt. All this time Polly lay rigidly still on the bed, awash in shame as she felt the Major's hands roaming over her defenseless genitals, determined not to give him any satisfaction. The only evidence that showed she felt him at ail was the sudden involuntary little tremors that shook her body from time to time as his roving thumb touched some particularly sensitive area.
Major Wyatt was very aware of Polly's unresponsiveness. Got to make her react, he told himself. It would be a blow to his ego if the girl just lay there like a corpse while he had his way with her. Well... he knew one thing that never failed; it had been taught to him by his female French cousin when he was still only eleven years old. Looking down at her lusciously ripe young pussy, Major Wyatt's mouth began to water, and the phrase ran through his mind, "Good enough to eat." It certainly was. With a moan of suddenly overwhelming desire, he leaned down, burying his face between Polly's thighs, his tongue shooting out to stab far up into her hot wet slit.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh," Polly moaned, her whole body shuddering as she felt the first shock of the Major's invading tongue. The feeling was so intense that at First she thought he had hurt her in some terrible way. Her eyes flew open and struggling up on her elbows she stared disbelievingly down at the dark head thrust far up between her quivering thighs. Oh my God! she thought in horror, watching her tormentor crouched like an animal before her, lapping hungrily at her secret parts. She tried to struggle free, but the Major's grip was too strong, and she collapsed back onto the bed with a moan of defeat. Never before in her life had Polly been so humiliated, and adding to her humiliation was the realization that she was having trouble thinking. The intense signals surging up from her loins were becoming more regular now, and to her further horror she discovered that they unbelievingly good!
"Oh... no... " she moaned, refusing to give m to her feelings. It was bad enough to be used this way, to be forced to do something that should disgust her, but to be threatened with actually enjoying it... Polly gathered all her will power to resist the powerful rushes of pleasure flowing through her well-licked pussy, but it was of little use.
The Major was using all his considerable skill, searching out the most sensitive areas of Polly's wide-spread cunt, running his tongue into hidden corners where he knew the nerve-endings lurked, flicking the tip maddeningly across the girl's hotly responding clitoris, dragging it slowly past the opening to her quivering vagina until he knew every succulent nook and cranny of her pussy slit. Then, sure of what he was doing, he fell into a steady rhythm, running his tongue in long hot swipes all the way from Polly's puckered little anus, up to her swelling clitoris, licking at her lewdly exposed genitals like a dog. He felt her quiver at the beginning of each slow stroke, gathering her strength to resist, the tension building as he licked past her tight vaginal opening and his tongue climbed higher, cutting through her tender cuntal flesh like a knife through hot butter, finally ending with a spasmodic jerk of her entire body as his hotly digging member finally stabbed against her achingly hard clitoris.
Polly stood it as long as she could, but eventually, driven past the point of endurance by the ecstasy of the Major's licking, her body deserted her, turning into a spasming, reacting mass of excited nerve endings. "Aaaahhhhhh," she began to moan, her soft, deep, slow cries keeping time to his tongue-swipes. Polly's clenched jaw relaxed and her lips parted sensuously, her tongue flickering greedily over their suddenly heated surfaces. Her hands moved down, to scrabble indecisively over her shuddering belly for a moment before finally reaching out to stroke nervously over the Major's hair. One last part of her mind retained independence from what was happening down between her thighs, horrified to realize that she no longer wanted the Major to stop this shameful, obscene thing he was doing to her. She craved it... her whole being cried out' for him to continue! Never before in her short sex life had the girl experienced anything that felt nearly so good!
The Major knew he had triumphed when he felt Polly's fingers tangle in his hair and greedily pull his face down harder against her spasming cunt. He tried to chuckle, his voice bubbling obscenely in her soaking wet depths. His saliva had mixed with her copiously flowing sex-juices, smearing over his cheeks, softening the gritty beard that rasped against the inside of the girl's thighs.
But Major Wyatt wanted an even more positive response from the panting young blonde slowly writhing under him. He began to pay more attention to her clitoris, running his tongue hotly around the turgid little bud, then stabbing straight down against it.
"Oh... yes... yes... " Polly began to babble, her hips jerking uncontrollably under his unrelenting attentions. Gathering all of her strength, she looked up once to find the Major's mocking eyes boring into hers while his lower face remained obscenely buried in her cunt, her pubic hair fringing his face like a whispy blonde beard. Then her strength gave out and she fell back, her clenched hands desperately pulling his mouth down tighter against her pleasure-washed cunt.
Suspecting the girl was nearly ready, the Major tested her vagina with his finger, worming it past his chin and into the muscular opening, noting that it was opening up, relaxing, making itself ready to receive his big thick prick throbbing so hungrily inside his buckskin breeches. Wanting to finish off his lewd mouthing of Polly's genitals, the Major abruptly sucked her palpitating clit deep into his mouth, enclosing it in his hot oral cavity, his tongue mashing against its trapped tip.
"Oh my God... ! Unnhh... ! Aaaiaahhhhh " Polly babbled, her back arching in agonized delight. It felt as if lightning had struck her pussy, convulsing her whole lower body with wild energy. She knew she was about to come, the strangest, most overwhelming orgasm she had ever felt. Her whole body told her it was going to be something different, something other than the climaxes she'd known when Adam made love to her. She hung on the brink for several seconds, waiting for it to thunder down on her, straining for the great release...
Then the Major suddenly pulled his mouth away from her pussy. "Oh!" she said. "Now now... please... finish... " The cold wash of air against her wet naked cunt made her squirm in agony. God! She'd been so close!
All the girl's earlier inhibitions were gone now, swept away by the first tremors of that promised orgasm. She writhed on the bed, her hips twisting down into the mattress, her body out of control. "Please... " she half-whispered to the Major. "I want to cum... " He grinned above her, having gotten to his feet. "We're singing a little different tune now, aren't we, you little bitch," he chuckled. "Suddenly you're not so pure and untouchable."
"Don't make fun of me," Polly pleaded, the hunger in her belly raging out of control. "Just... do that some more."
"Lick your hot little quim?" he asked. She shuddered at the crudeness of his words, but the fire in her belly didn't go out "No," he said, and her heart sank. But it rose again as he went on. "I've got something better in mind...
something made for juicy little traps like yours."
For the first time Polly noticed that the Major was unfastening the buttons of his buckskin breeches. She held her breath, fascinated by the huge bulge that pushed out the crotch. He had an erection! Then she lost sight of the bulge as the Major bent forward to strip off his breeches, tossing them into a comer. He wore nothing underneath and stood before her totally naked, his enormous cock jutting out of the hairy tangle of his loins.
Polly's breath sucked in. It was the biggest penis she had ever seen, which didn't mean much, because the only other erect male organ she was familiar with was Adam's. To her staring eyes the Major's looked twice as large, perhaps only an inch longer than her lover's but making up for it in girth. Does he expect to shove that thing up inside me? she thought incredulously. It would never fit.
"C-Can't you just go back to what you were doing?" she quavered, unable to take her eyes off that immense rod.
"No, you little wench, I'm going to fuck you," he said grimly. "That was our bargain... remember?"
"Oh, but how can I... " she cried hopelessly, then fell silent as the Major started toward the bed, one hand massaging his huge penis, working the heavy skin back and forth over its rigid length. Polly was unable to move, paralyzed, like a bird being approached by a snake. "Get up on the bed," the Major ordered, and Polly scrambled higher, away from him and his menacing rod of flesh, so that her legs no longer dangled over the edge. "Now hold still," he warned her as he scrambled in between her trembling thighs. Kneeling, he moved his loins forward, until the massive head of his cock was only a fraction of an inch away from her fear-tightened genitals. The terrified girl braced herself for the shock of a horribly painful penetration, closing her eyes. But they opened again in surprise when all she felt was a soft resilient pressure against her cunt lips. Looking down, Polly saw that Major Wyatt was slowly rubbing the head of his prick up and down her pussy, slowly prying open her slit with the spongy knob.
"Mmmmmmmmm," she sighed, realizing how good it felt as the bullet-shaped tip pushed its way into the same sensitive channel that had so recently been tantalized by the Major's tongue. The young blonde's head fell back limply, and her eyes became dreamy, half-closed staring mistily up at the ceiling.
"That's not so bad, is it?" the Major asked the sighing girl. His earlier antagonism had evaporated, now that he knew he was going to have his way with her. He looked appreciatively down at her naked body, his eyes lingering on the firm upthrust of her pink-nippled breasts. The Major had been surprised by how easily Polly's lust had been aroused. A naturally passionate wench, he mused to himself. He was going to enjoy fucking her. Looking down at his cock, he saw the tip half-buried up inside her hairy furrow, probing at the opening to her wide-spread vagina. His fingers stroked over her fleshy cunt lips, brushing aside the soft blonde fleece, darkening now with her gushing internal secretions. And as he watched, he felt her cunt nibbling hungrily against the head of his cock. God! He couldn't wait! He had to fuck this beautiful girl now!
The Major's powerful hips ground forward, slowly forcing the head of his cock up into Polly's tight young vagina. He expected her to cry out in pain and fear, but he had underestimated the girl. Now that there was no way to avoid it, and remembering her near miss at an incredible orgasm, Polly was determined to go on to the end. The intimacies she had already gone through with the big man, the feel of his naked body between her legs, and the hot fire burning up inside her womb made the girl reckless. That and the knowledge that Adam had slept with this man's wife! Polly was growing up fast. Until this afternoon, the thought of making love to someone other than Adam had never occurred to her. Sex and Adam went inseparably together. Now Major Wyatt had taught her that it was possible for her body to respond to another man. She still resented the way he had forced her into this, but part of her mind was grateful for this awakening.
Except that it hurt.
Inch by slow inch the Major's thick massive shaft slid up into Polly's tight young cunt, stretching her more than she had ever been stretched before. She lay perfectly still, gritting her teeth, her hands clutching for support on the mattress. It seemed to the panting girl that her lower body were being slowly split apart by a giant, hotly pulsating wedge. She grunted with mixed pain and effort as she tried to open herself up to the maximum. But inseparable from the pain was an exultant lust as she felt her cunt being filled with the Major's hard male presence. Up, up, his cock slid, exploring virgin territory where no man had been before, past the limits Adam's smaller penis had known. Finally the huge meaty shaft was in all the way, with the Major's pubic bone grinding erotically against hers.
Never had Polly felt so filled. "Aaaaaahhh-hhhhhh," she sighed softly, not daring to move, waiting for the Major's next move, a little afraid that he might hurt her, but perversely hoping he would. The Major was half-propped up on his elbows, their faces only about a foot apart. Their eyes met for several long seconds, hers brimming with a dark smoky wonder, his bright with triumph. Suddenly they kissed, both moving impulsively together. As their tongues twined, Polly was vitally aware of his huge organ, throbbing powerfully deep up inside her cunt.
"Ooooohhhhhh, fuck me," she sighed, now hopelessly surrendered to her lust. The last of her restraints were gone, and all the aroused young blonde wanted was to be at the mercy of the Major's huge male organ.
The Major's mood had changed too. Now that Polly was finally his to do with as he wished, he felt a sudden tenderness for the girl as he stared down at her sex-flushed young face. Starting slowly so as not to hurt her, he began to move his swollen rod gently in short little in and out thrusts that not only opened her tightly clasping cunt up more but liberally coated the entire length of his throbbing shaft with slippery cunt juices.
"More... more... " Polly begged, her fear of his massive organ forgotten. She felt it moving inside her now, stretching her tight, filling her every internal crevice, rubbing sensuously against the wildly sensitive walls of her vagina. She wanted it to probe up into her, smash hard against her cervix, make her cum like she'd never cum before. "Please... please... " she begged, cupping her hands around the Major's naked ass-cheeks, urging him on.
Eagerly the big man responded, slowly lengthening his strokes up into her body until the whole glistening length of his rigid prick was gliding in and out between her enveloping pussy lips. He looked down at her in amazement, wondering what had happened to the shy frightened girl he had forced into sex such a short time ago. Her whole body was beginning to undulate beneath his, clearly begging for all he could give her. That lovely innocent face was glowing with wanton desire, the cheeks flushed, the eyes glittering with wild invitation. A huge wave of overpowering lust swept over the Major.
"All right, Polly," he choked out. "If that's what you want... you'll get it!" And seizing hold of her quivering ass-cheeks he began to fuck into her madly, his long thick penis sawing madly in and out of her gushing young cunt.
"Oh... yes... yes... yes " Polly shrieked, winding her legs hungrily around the Major's laboring body. "Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" Polly could hardly believe it was her own voice uttering those shameless words to the man who had so brutally seduced her, but she meant every one of them. Her entire body cried out with need, cried out to be filled with hot thrusting male hardness. For the first time in her life she was fucking just for the joy of fucking. The Major was merely an instrument for her lust, a driving phallus that alternately filled her and drew away, filled her and drew away. She panted and moaned, mouthing shapeless, half-formed obscenities, her loins jerking hungrily up against the Major's. Until now her entire sexual experience had been inextricably tied up with making love to Adam. Now she had found out that sex itself was wonderful, that it could be a thing all by itself. And with this knowledge came liberation... freedom. Freedom to make love to whom she wanted... without shame. And paradoxically, freedom to love. At that moment she felt an overpowering wave of love for Adam, realizing that she was free to accept or reject him... and she unhesitantly accepted him.
But for the moment her mind and body were full of the Major. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she babbled inanely, no longer able to form full sentences but desperate to urge him on. He panted and strained above her, his big thick cock -- with a girth of a man's wrist -- thundering relentlessly up into her ecstatic cunt as he watched, open-mouthed, Polly writhing hungrily below him on the bed.
"Hot bitch... hot bitch," he panted out, mesmerized by her passion. His ego soared to new heights as he watched what his virile shaft was doing to the girl. She likes it... She likes it! he kept reminding himself, and the longer he fucked Polly, the more he fell into the power of her erotic attraction.
Polly was no longer making meaningful sounds, but the Major knew she was about to cum. Her stomach muscles were ridging up hard and tense as her body slowly relinquished control to the orgasm reflex starting far up inside her womb, to the age-old spasm that would turn her into a mindlessly reacting mass of flesh for a few seconds. Her eyes were unseeing, staring smokily up at the ceiling, her lips swollen and dry, her fingers clutching spasmodically at the blankets.
The Major rose up on his arms for a moment, staring down to where the bloated shaft of his wetly glistening cock was slithering in and out of Polly's wide-open pussy lips. He watched the thin pink flanges of her inner labia clinging lovingly to the big shaft each time he lunged forward for another stroke. He felt his cock growing, swelling, as his own orgasm approached, a hot blissful agony making his loins feel as if they were going to explode.
"Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!" he cried out, falling forward on Polly's lush body as the first hot jets of his semen poured into her cunt. For one brief moment of clarity, Polly was aware of what was happening. She felt the head of the Major's cock suddenly grow enormously large up inside her vagina, then the hot wet rush of his semen flowing into her. Her own orgasm rose to meet his, her body stiffening for an instant, her eyes opening wide in shocked recognition of what was happening up inside her belly.
Then, with a wild shriek of animal joy, Polly exploded into a half-world of flashing lights and indescribable sensations, her body bucking and leaping on the bed, out of control, her mind no longer functioning. Strong as he was, the Major had difficulty holding the moaning, panting, shrieking young blonde down, but he clung to her fiercely, keeping his ejaculating organ buried to the hilt up inside her spasming cunt, filling her with his hot semen.
Polly whimpered with joy, she writhed, she clawed, she let her body open itself completely to the Major's hot seed. Then gradually she began to relax, dreamily aware of the Major's cock still moving slowly up inside her cunt, shrinking fast, the last of its load spent. Her hips ground lazily up against his, extracting the last drops of his passion.
As her full consciousness returned, Polly became aware that the Major was babbling incoherently, raining down endearments on her surprised ears, promising her that they would make love again... soon. She looked up, surprised, and found herself no longer looking into his familiar cold, cynical face. The mask had been stripped away in this moment of raw passion and she saw him open, vulnerable, desperate to once again possess her body.
That was the moment when Polly genuinely lost her virtue. Not when she first surrendered her body to Adam, but when she realized the power sex gave her over the Major -- and all men. A slow, secret smile tugged at her lips.
CHAPTER FIVE
For the next two weeks the American army was left in relative peace. The British general, Sir William Howe, was slowly, cautiously marshalling his troops, treating his victory at Brooklyn Heights almost as if it had been a defeat. But battles raged in the Hyatt household -- in the bedrooms, groin to groin, rampant cocks sinking greedily into eagerly receptive cunts. Polly was on a honeymoon of unlimited sex, along with Mrs. Wyatt slowly draining the life from Adam and the Major. While Mrs. Wyatt was out "driving" with Adam, the Major would come to Polly's room, and make love to her until he could barely stagger away. Still glowing, Polly would wait for Adam to come back and then drag the bleary-eyed boy into bed with her, rousing him to new passions by the lush readiness of her beautiful young body. She literally radiated sex. Mrs. Wyatt was a little less lucky. The Major was usually too worn out to do more than tiredly caress her insatiably ready body, but she was pleased enough, spending long pleasant hours with Adam, teaching him new ways to make love to her.
Both Adam and Polly, so recently novices in the art of sex, were learning fast from their new lovers, surprising each other by their virtuosity, climbing to heights of shared passion they had never before known together.
Adam and Polly were falling even more in love with one another. The recent growth of their sexual horizons had freed them to appreciate one another within a wider context, and as their passion grew, so did their mutual appreciation.
But nothing lasts forever and gradually the frantic sexual couplings at the Major's headquarters began to show signs of strain. Polly was growing a bit tired of the Major, and Mrs. Wyatt had her eye on a young subaltern. The Major was still as helplessly enthralled with Polly, but was now becoming jealous of Adam, begrudging him his time with the luscious young blonde who's body he had come to know so well. Matters slowly drew to a head, but the eventual explosion came from the British. One day a messenger burst into the Major's office, spattered with mud and dust.
"A message from headquarters, sir," he panted, saluting the darkly scowling Major, who was trying to figure how to get Adam out of the house permanently.
"Yes... get on with it," he barked irritably.
The messenger blanched, but knowing he was the bearer of important information, quickly regained confidence.
"With the General's compliments, sir," he said quickly, "you are requested to ready your battalion." He let a long pause follow, watching the Major suddenly grow interested. "General Howe has crossed the East River and landed troops at Kip's Bay, down by the tip of Manhattan Island."
"Well, by God... why didn't you say so earlier?" the Major roared, springing up from his seat. He immediately began to bellow for his orderlies, barking out commands, the messenger's presence forgotten.
"What is it, Adam," Polly asked anxiously as Adam raced back to their room and began to throw his gear together.
"Action, I'm afraid," he answered. "The British are on their way up the island. I understand we're to meet them at Harlem Heights." With sinking heart, Polly watched Adam leave, his pack dangling from one hand, his musket from the other. "Oh... come back, come back!" she repeated in silent agony.
Adam joined the Major, once again surprised by the way the prospect of action transformed the man. His eye were clear and sharp, his manner excited but cool. The battalion had been formed up by its officers, and after a few words of encouragement the Major marched it off. They marched down island, joining streams of men from other camps. The ground grew steeper, until above them Adam saw the steep cliffs that protected Harlem Heights. A messenger rode down from the fortifications and relayed orders that the Major was to hold his battalion where it was.
Next to him was a regiment of Continental Regulars, the best troops in Washington's army. Two young captains were talking together, obviously not caring if they were Overheard.
"Too bad our regiment wasn't at Kip's Bay to meet the bloody British," one said.
"Yes," the other replied. "I understand the damned militia ran like rabbits as soon as they saw the British bayonets."
Adam saw Major Wyatt, a Major of militia, grinding his teeth in rage. For a moment Adam was afraid the Major was going to attack the two captains, but after a monumental internal struggle he gained control of himself. "If any man of mine runs... " Adam heard him murmur grimly.
The day wore on, with the American soldiers wilting in the hot September sun. Toward evening the sound of a large body of marching men could be heard, and the American troops stiffened, expecting an assault.
"It's Knox!" Major Wyatt called in surprise as the marchers came into view. They were Americans, fleeing up the west side of the island, a jump ahead of Howe's forces. With the last of their strength they poured into the safety of Harlem Heights. "If Howe'd been a little faster, he could have cut us off easily," a breathless officer panted to Major Wyatt.
Within ten minutes the British were in sight, fanning out below the heights. Major Wyatt had to pull his battalion back toward higher ground out of sharpshooter range. They were ordered to post themselves at the top of a broad hollow that sloped to the west toward the Hudson River. Tense minutes followed as the Americans expected the British to attack, but Howe, cautious as usual, sat his army down to wait.
A long night followed, during which Adam got very little sleep, constantly alert for the sound of a night attack on the battalion's exposed position. But when dawn came, the British still hadn't moved. The lowlands below were red with British uniforms. Then a few companies on foot began to stir, forming up in columns and heading up the hollow toward where Major Wyatt's battalion was stationed.
"The fools!" the Major cried incredulously. "What in God's name are they doing? Don't they realize this hollow is a natural trap for them?"
Others had the same idea. A few minutes later two companies of Connecticut Rangers appeared, coming down toward them from the heights. "Major," one of them called to Wyatt. "Can you spare us half a company to fill out our left?"
"You can have my whole battalion," the Major replied promptly.
"No... too many for these tight quarters," the officer, a colonel, replied. So the Major quickly picked the best of his men. "You're coming with me," he told Adam, who wished the Major were a little less brave, the Rangers and Wyatt's men moved down the hollow, toward the solid blocks of British infantry marching uphill.
"It's the Black Watch!" someone said in surprise.
"The best bloody troops the British have," another grumbled.
"Silence in the ranks!" the officers roared.
The enemy was now close enough so that Adam could see they were wearing kilts and high bearskin shakos. Scotsmen. Marvelously well- trained troops. With a fierce cry, they started running up the hill toward the Americans.
"Steady... " the Major warned his little body of militia. "Let's look good in front of these Connecticut boys."
Adam held his breath as the yelling Scotsmen drew nearer. "Cock your muskets!" the order rang out. He pulled back the heavy lock. "Present... Fire!"
A roar of musketry, and the Black Watch's headlong run up the hill was checked as if it had run into a wall. Men dropped and others reeled. Then they came on again in close order, not bothering to fire, obviously expecting the Americans to run away as they had done on Long Island. Adam felt a wavering in the ranks around him, but the Major had drawn his terrible sword, holding it high as he stood a few paces in front of his men, facing the enemy. Every one of his men remembered how he'd cut down that man on Long Island.
The loading drill went on. Adam stuck his ramrod in the soft soil rather than waste time returning it to its slot beneath the barrel of his musket, cocked, raised... and fired again. Once more the gaily uniformed Scotsmen were momentarily halted, then reformed and came on, their numbers fewer.
Load and fire... load and fire. Time wore on for Adam, until he heard a loud cheer from the men around him. "They're running!" a man screamed. "They're turning tail!"
It was true. Unable to rout the unflinching Americans, the same homespun troops who had run such a short time before, the Black Watch was falling back. Adam's fowling piece was loaded. He watched one of the enemy scrambling over a low rail fence. Instinctively he raised the gun and fired, slug hitting the Scotsman full in the back, the impact of the heavy lead ball throwing him forward, his black bearskin shako flying from his head. He skidded forward on his face, twitched, then lay still. Adam felt sick and was afraid that he was going to disgrace himself by vomiting. It was one thing to fire his inaccurate weapon into a crowd of men, not certain where his bullets struck and another to actually know he had killed an individual. There was no doubt in his mind it was he who had killed the Scotsman. There had been a momentary lull when he fired.
The uproar all around masked Adam's feelings. "By the Lord Harry... they can be beat!" a militiaman was yelling excitedly.
"Forward!" the officers cried, and the Americans began to chase hard on the heels of the fleeing British, until a messenger galloped down from the fort and called them back.
"Why don't they let us finish 'em off?" a man grumbled sourly.
"Because, you clod," the Major said scathingly, "Once we got to the bottom they'd have us in the same position we had 'em in up here!"
The action in the hollow had apparently shaken Howe. He remained inactive for days.
wasting the strength of his army in camp. Major Wyatt's battalion was withdrawn, being permitted to go back to their original camp for a few days rest and refitting. Polly was deliriously glad to see Adam alive, and for a few days life went back almost to normal at the headquarters farmhouse. Until a new ingredient was added to the already explosive mixture of four jealous lovers.
Early in October a battered, dust-stained carriage rolled up to the farmhouse door and a young woman tumbled out, obviously bone- tired.
"Gretta!" Mrs. Wyatt shrieked when the girl entered the house. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at home!" It was the Wyatt's sixteen year old daughter.
"Oh, mama, it was awful," Gretta replied breathlessly. "The British are whipping up the Indians against up. They've burned two farms already, and killed all the Smithers family. I was so scared... so I decided to come down here with you."
"But... but, we're in the middle of a war here," Mrs. Wyatt faltered. "And not doing too well." But it was evident Mrs. Wyatt was glad to see her daughter. She led the girl into the house, holding her affectionately. The Major came out on the porch to see what all the noise was about and was as surprised as his wife had been.
"Well... I suppose there's no hope for it," he finally said. "She'll have to stay with us."
Right from the beginning Polly sensed trouble. She watched Adam's face when he first saw Gretta, saw his eyes widen in appreciation of the young girl. For the first time, Polly became jealous. For some time now she had realized that Adam was making love to Mrs. Wyatt. That bothered her very little. After all, what could that be but a temporary situation, and she herself was sleeping with the Major. But Gretta was infinitely more dangerous, a lovely young girl, slipping by fits and starts from early puberty into young womanhood, awkward and slow one moment, graceful and feminine the next. Gretta was tall, taller than Polly, with a beautiful, blossoming figure. Her face, lovely enough, blushed with innocence. But from time to time Polly caught glimpses of sensual interest in the girl's quick fleeting smiles.
It took a few days for Gretta to fully register on everyone at the farmhouse. It was Polly who first recognized the intense sexual attraction that radiated from the girl. She was laying out Gretta's clothes, like a good maid, when she found herself thinking definitely erotic thoughts. Gretta was naked to the waist, fumbling with some inconsequential piece of feminine underclothing, glancing eagerly in the mirror. What beautiful breasts! Polly thought, wondering why her breathing was becoming ragged. Gretta's breasts were an exciting combination of budding immaturity and lush realization, large, firm, broad-based -- totally feminine, but with the tight nipple-buds of a very young girl. To her amazement, Polly found herself wanting to reach and touch those perfect half-globes. She was shocked. Never before had she been interested in doing anything so "unnatural."
Gretta's subtle sexuality spread slowly through the house. Polly watched Adam succumb to the girl's half-conscious charm, following her with his eyes like a love-sick puppy. Several times she started to grow angry with him but then remembered her own powerful reaction.
Nor were Adam and Polly the only ones affected by Gretta. Matters were going very poorly for the revolutionary army, and General Washington's officers convinced him it would be wise to evacuate Manhattan before the British fleet cut him off. One morning the Major was looking for Gretta to tell her of the evacuation plans. She was a late sleeper and was still in bed when he entered her room. He had knocked, and she sleepily told him to enter. The first thing the Major noticed was that Gretta had been sleeping naked and that her heavy quilt only half-covered her. One breast was completely visible with the other bare almost down to the nipple, while a wide swath of. her supple flank showed all the way down to her thigh. The Major stopped in his tracks, not knowing whether to stay or to retreat. Gretta solved the problem by languorously pulling the quilt back over herself, covering all of her lush young body except for the top portions of her bare breasts, smiling softly as she did so. The Major was stunned. A lady's man, he thought he recognized an enormously sensual smile of invitation. But then Gretta's face went back to its girlish innocence.
However, the Major had been strongly affected. For days he too had been falling under the girl's spell, not fully aware of why he had such strong desires to reach out and touch his daughter. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to tell her about the evacuation.
"Oh, Daddy," she murmured, still half-asleep. "Why is everything so terrible?"
"It will get better," he reassured her. Automatically he reached out to stroke her forehead in the same soothing gesture he'd used when she'd become frightened as a little girl. Gretta's eyes closed dreamily, and she snuggled closer to her father, the quilt pulling down a ways, baring one ripe young breast almost to the nipple. A complex wave of emotion swept over the Major, half love, half lust. His self control floundered quickly. Half-holding his breath, watching the girl's face carefully, the Major slid his hand lower, down over his daughter's creamy shoulders. He had to touch her breasts! Some dark driving force in him made him need to do it! Lower and lower his hand slipped, until it began to creep up the soft hill of her breasts. Gretta never moved, kept the same soft smile on her lovely young face, her eyes closed. Then the Major felt one pert virginal nipple under the palm of his hand. He shuddered all over with desire. Breathlessly he explored the girl's tits, pushing the quilt down so that he could see his fingers molding to their perfect contours. Then his hand slipped even lower, down Gretta's softly swelling belly, over her dimpled navel, until it was brushing through the first crisp curly strands of pubic hair.
Gretta stirred sensually then, her body twisting slightly away. "Oh, Daddy... " she murmured, and to the Major it seemed like a reproach. Guiltily he jerked his hand away, and blushing, quickly stood up. "You'll have to get out of bed, Gretta," he said stiffly. "We start north in the afternoon."
The Major stalked out of the room, feeling he had to force his legs to move, burning with guilt and shame for what he had done, or rather, for what he had been thinking. Because he had no doubt that if the girl had been willing, he'd have fucked her. His own daughter! A very troubled man, he threw himself into preparing his battalion for the retreat into Westchester. But all the time, in the back of his mind, he had to continually battle down his sudden lust for Gretta.
The retreat across the Harlem River was an agony. The wagons were in bad condition, the horses half-starved. Small boats ferried load after load across to the other shore, while Howe's fleet came up the East River. But instead of directly attacking the crossing point, he landed troops at Pell's Point in an attempt to cut Washington off. But John Glover's Marblehead men fought the British off long enough for Washington to gather his troops at White Plains.
Howe attacked. His cavalry charged the American right, and once again Washington's troops broke and fled. The revolution might have ended there, but How proved true to form and failed to push his advantage. A strong pursuit might have destroyed Washington's army for good, but Howe swung back south into Manhattan, spending nearly two weeks capturing two isolated American forts.
Washington was in desperate straights. Through battle losses, captures, and desertion, he had barely three thousand men left, outfitted in rags, with little ammunition or supplies. Many colonists, believing the rebels had already lost, refused to help Washington's starving army.
And it was turning cold. In late November the Wyatt's and their entourage found themselves shivering in a drafty deserted house in Westchester county, with the tattered remains of the battalion camped in tents about a hundred yards away. Adam and Polly had managed to find a large mattress, one of the few articles left by looters, and had placed it on the floor of a barren bedroom, snuggling together under their combined blankets. They tried to sleep, but from about a quarter mile away came the intermittent crackle of musketry. Adam had turned over for the hundredth time, when he saw a shadowy figure standing in the shattered doorway.
"Look out!" he warned Polly, and reached for his musket.
"Oh, don't!" a voice squeaked. "It's only me... Gretta!"
"Gretta!" Adam exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm... I'm frightened," the girl said. "I... can't sleep in there by myself."
"Well... we're not doing so well ourselves," Adam said ruefully.
"Can... can I come in and .stay with you for a while?" Gretta asked.
Adam glanced over at Polly, whose features he could just barely make out in the gloom. He raised his eyebrows, she raised hers and shrugged. "Yes... if you want," Adam finally said.
"Oh, good," and Gretta literally threw herself into bed with the two of them. For a moment the bulk of her quilt almost forced Adam and Polly from the mattress.
"Here... let's get your quilt over all three of us," Adam said, fumbling with the thick cover. "We were freezing."
"Well... " Gretta said dubiously, then let go of the quilt, letting Adam spread it even over the mattress, while she snuggled in between them, and Adam found out why she had been reluctant to unwrap it from her body.
Gretta was totally naked.
Both Adam and Polly were partially dressed against the cold, but each of them sensed Gretta's nakedness, Adam by having his hand brush accidentally against her bare hip, Polly by feeling a tight young nipple dig into her arm. Nobody moved or said much for a while, Gretta lying stiff and a little scared with her arms pressed against her sides, guarding her naked body. But she was obviously glad to not be alone on this frightening night.
"Do... do you think we'll be captured?" she finally asked.
"Not if we only have to go up against old Howe... he couldn't catch a wounded turtle. It's Cornwallis who worries the Major."
"Cornwallis... who's he?"
"Lord Cornwallis, a major-general. He doesn't let any grass grow under his feet."
"Ooohhh... I hope we get away," Gretta said fervently, giving a little shudder. Her shudder was clearly felt by both Polly and Adam, an involuntary movement which set them both on fire. Both of them were vitally aware of Gretta's body next to them, and both wanted desperately to touch it, a simple enough desire for Adam to understand, but much more confusing to Polly. She remembered how Gretta had affected her earlier.
The tension rose for both Polly and Adam, while it lessened for Gretta. Bit by bit she grew more sure of her position. Over the past two years she had become aware of the strange erotic power she had over other people, and was reassured when she sensed it was working again. The three young people began to speak more freely, in low voices so they wouldn't wake the Major and his wife who were sleeping down the hall. Gradually Gretta became relaxed, turning freely from one to the other of her companions, affecting to not notice when her breasts grazed Adam's arm, or her thigh pressed a little into Polly's groin. But the others noticed. In a while Adam was perspiring with desire.
"It's hot with the quilt," he mumbled, using it as an excuse to take off his underwear. Polly did the same. Then Adam made his big play. He was worried that Polly might become hurt and angry, but such strong sensual signals were coming from Gretta that he couldn't help himself. Speaking in a soothing voice, he began to gently stroke Gretta's arm. As far as he could tell, the Major's daughter seemed to like what he was doing, falling silent, her breathing soft and even. So Adam became bolder, shifting his hand from the girl's arm to her belly, caressing the smooth flesh around her navel. Gretta gave a ragged little half-sigh that Adam didn't quite know how to interpret, but she definitely didn't push his hand away.
Nor did she when his roving fingers bumped into the solid base of her firm young tits. He let his fingertips stray up between the firmly rounded mounds, and he noticed that the deep valley between their exciting contours was hot and damp. Apparently Gretta wasn't as unexcited as she pretended. Finally Adam gathered up all his courage and reached up to cup one of the girl's naked breasts in his hand, softly gliding his palm over the tiny puckered nipple. Almost immediately it began to harden, dragging over the sensitive nerves of his inner hand. He almost shivered with delight. Gretta's only reaction was a sharp little intake of breath.
Encouraged by the girl's acquiescence, Adam's hand began to roam, moving greedily over Gretta's silken flesh, toying with her nipples until they were hard as pebbles. He felt he could have stayed forever with those perfect mounds, but a painful throbbing down between his legs where his prick had hardened like one of General Howe's cannons drove him on. His hand slipped down lower, past the girl's belly until it was grazing through the crisp tangle of her pussy hair. Gretta stiffened for a moment but made no complaint, just lying there perfectly still, holding her breath and waiting for his next move.
So Adam took the plunge, dipping his hand down between the girl's tender young thighs, as far down as he could into the warm nest of her pussy. Gretta's thighs remained held stiffly together for a moment, denying him deeper entry, then they slowly parted, making available more of her heated genital flesh. Adam took the implicit offer, dipping his hand lower, feeling the soft fleshiness of Gretta's pussy lips give resiliency under his fingers, and almost immediately the girl's hips began to pump slowly and rhythmically up against his hand. My God... she's going to let me do it! Adam thought in stunned surprise. All the time he'd expected the girl would stop him, make him pull back his hand once it had got past a certain point. And always in the back of his mind was the knowledge that this lovely young maiden was the daughter of the terrible Major Wyatt. But lust was fast winning over fear. Adam wormed his fingers lower, trying to insert them between Gretta's wetly heated pussy lips.
Lying practically forgotten on the far side of Gretta, Polly followed what was happening with increasing excitement. As Adam's eager hand roamed over Gretta's body, Polly was surprised to find herself not jealous at all. It was as if she and Adam were a team, planning to seduce this lush young girl together. Seldom in her life had Polly felt herself so excited. Her pussy burned with a hot implacable desire. Her breasts tingled. But while Adam was making his preliminary exploration of Gretta's nakedness, Polly forced herself to remain still, her only erotic activity a slow rubbing together of her thighs, squeezing her smouldering cunt tightly in between. She had quietly slipped off the last of her clothing to he naked with Gretta and Adam beneath the quilt. And when she felt Gretta's hips begin to pump up against Adam's outstretched middle finger sliding so fragrantly in and out of the girl's cunt, Polly knew she could keep still no longer. Reaching out, she cupped one of Gretta's soft warm breasts in her hand, excitedly squeezing the resilient orb, thrilled by the way the nipple was throbbing against her grasping palm, thrilled again when Gretta uttered an encouraging little moan of wanton pleasure. Polly scooted closer to the younger girl, pressing her pussy tightly against Gretta's slowly gyrating thigh.
Meanwhile, Adam was shifting his position, sliding down lower on the mattress and at the same time pulling Gretta's long legs up over his, so that she was lying on her back, legs bent, his loins pressing against her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. Knowing that the girl's pussy was only inches away from his rock-hard cock made the young man reckless. His finger had by now worked its way up into Gretta's tight young pussy slit, immediately becoming coated with her hotly gushing juices. There was no doubt in his mind that the girl was excited, so he chanced stuffing his fingertip up inside her vagina, marvelling how easily it went in. While her cunt was tight enough she definitely wasn't a virgin, which surprised Adam, and pleased him at the same time. This was going to go all the way.
Suddenly Adam became aware of Polly's activities on the other side of Gretta. In his growing lust, he had temporarily forgotten about her, but now he realized that his mistress was ardently stroking Gretta's passion-swollen breasts, her fingertips eagerly dancing over the hard little nipples. Their eyes met, both their faces hot with lust. Then Adam saw Polly's head drop, and one of Gretta's nipples disappeared up inside the girl's warm sucking mouth.
Gretta moaned with pleasure, a surprisingly mature moan coming from such an innocent looking girl. Adam took the opportunity to slide his loins closer to Gretta's, moving his excitedly pulsating prick close so that he was able to insinuate the bloated tip just up inside Gretta's sopping pussy slit. He half expected the girl to flinch away in fright, but instead her buttocks drove down against him, obviously trying to ram his penis up inside her cunt. The fat was in the fire. There was no doubt now in Adam's mind that Gretta wanted him to fuck her.
Adam crowded in even closer, taking his bloated shaft in the fingers of one hand and sliding it sensuously up and down the dripping length of the sixteen year old's cuntal furrow. Her legs, draped over the side of his body, twitched with desire, and he knew how much she wanted him in her. Not wanting to give Gretta a chance to change her mind, Adam quickly worked his cock down to where he felt the tight little hair-lined opening to her vagina pulsing hungrily and worked the swollen head up inside. "Aaaahhhhhhh," Gretta moaned softly, her legs parting a little above his body so that she could open herself up even more. The girl didn't say a word, just moaned a little, but it was clear to both Adam and Polly how much she wanted to be fucked!
A moment later Adam's hotly throbbing cock was all the way up inside the girl's clasping vaginal passage, sliding slowly in and out of that tight nest. Adam's rigid shaft trembled with pleasure, wildly sensitive to the hot touch of Gretta's inner muscles, and he knew this was going to be a very short fuck. Completely aroused by his earlier caressing of this seemingly unobtainable girl, he was only a minute or so away from cumming.
But fortunately, Gretta was close too, partially because of the way Polly was licking and sucking at her sensitive breasts. The older girl's mouth was all over her nipples, her tongue darting hotly over the palpitating little buds, and in gratitude the completely aroused Gretta reached down the other girl's body, searching out Polly's cunt until her fingers had slid up inside Polly's passion-drenched hole. Now it was Polly's turn to gasp, and she frantically began to pump her wetly exuberant vagina against those slender girlish fingers exploring her feminine flesh. Polly's passion was increased by the knowledge that Adam was at the same time fucking his cock up into Gretta's lush body. She had to feel that for herself, and reaching down over Gretta's slowly undulating belly, groped down until she came into contact with Adam's wet swollen shaft sliding so smoothly in and out of Gretta's cunt from below. Polly bathed her fingertips in the heated juices that gushed from Gretta's cock-impaled pussy, then eagerly forced apart Gretta's clasping vaginal lips until she could play with the younger girl's swollen clitoris with one fingertip while her own cunt pumped against Gretta's finger.
The noise level in the room was rising, gasps and moans from the lewdly locked trio. And when they all began to cum, the gasps and moans turned to muffled wails of wantonness. Just before she came, Gretta began to mouth obscenities which poured incongruously from her innocent-looking lips.
"Ohhh... fuck... shit... piss... " she moaned. "This is wonderful... I haven't been fucked for so long... Aaaahhhhh, stuff your prick up inside my quim... make me cum... Oh, Polly, your pussy feels so wonderful! I'll lick it for you soon... " Hearing these lewd words coming from the girl they had formerly believed so innocent and unobtainable fired Polly and Adam's already intense reactions. Polly came at the same time Gretta did, her vaginal muscles clamping hungrily around the girl's invading finger, hot juices gushing out over the old mattress, her body writhing uncontrollably. One last time her fingers flailed over Gretta's hotly sensitive clit, and the younger girl began to cum too, her hips bucking and writhing down against Adam's madly pumping cock.
"Aaaaiiiieeeeeee!" she wailed, her naked young body twisting and turning uncontrollably on the mattress, her finger slipping from Polly's spasming cunt. Desperately she clutched at her quilt for support, then at Polly and Adam, her fingernails leaving red streaks on Adam's naked belly. He flinched away, but the feel of her powerful cunt muscles milking so greedily at his throbbing cock was too much, and with a groan he threw his head back and began to cum too, his semen jetting into Gretta's vagina, then gushing thickly back out every time she had an internal spasm, coating her rounded ass-cheeks with a slippery film of their combined sex-fluids.
Her own orgasm over, Polly did all she could to help the other two, gently squeezing her lover's bloated balls, making him moan louder with delight, while her lips returned to Gretta's full swollen breasts, roving hungrily over their rounded softness, pulling greedily on the hard little nipples.
Finally it was over, with Adam collapsing weakly back on the mattress, his cock slipping free of Gretta's sperm-soaked cunt as he rolled over on his back.
"Oh... thank God," Gretta said, her eyes oddly big and innocent in the dim light. "First with my schoolteacher. Then with anybody I could find. I love fucking!"
Both Adam and Polly were eager to ask more questions, but all at once the room was lit up. Startled, the three on the mattress stared toward the source of the light and saw Mrs. Wyatt standing in the doorway in her nightgown, a lantern held high over her head.
"Gretta!" she cried in horror. "What are you doing?" But it was clear she knew. What else could she make of the three young people, lying naked on the mattress, Adam's partially hard cock still glistening with her daughter's cuntal secretions, Gretta's pussy hair matted and soaked with cum?
"You... you...!" she snarled, advancing menacingly toward Adam, her face twisted with anger. Shamelessly promiscuous as she herself was, a perversity in her nature insisted on her daughter's virtue. "I'll kill you!" she screamed. She stopped and turned toward Polly, apparently having trouble deciding which of the traitors to attack. "You... you slut! Tricking my daughter into your evil bed!"
"No, Mama... don't," Gretta whimpered, then tried to lie. "They just let me stay here with them... I was frightened by the gunfire."
Mrs. Wyatt watched her daughter struggle to pull the tangled covers up over her nakedness. Her face was now cold as ice. "You'll pay for this with your lives," she snarled, and turning on her heel, ran from the room.
"She's gone to get the Major," Polly cried.
"God... we've got to get out of here!" Adam panted, furiously pulling on his clothing. Polly began to dress too, then bundled up the blankets.
"Aren't you coming with us?" she half-heartedly asked the terrified Gretta, who sat in the middle of the mattress, pathetically clutching her quilt about her.
Slowly the girl shook her head. "I'm too afraid of the guns," she finally murmured.
"They'll... they'll forgive me... I know they will!"
Adam had gathered up his pack, and grabbing his fowling piece in one hand, made for the door. "No one in sight," he murmured gratefully, and led the way down the sagging back stairs, Polly following close behind. Opening the back door, they both peered outside. No one was in sight, "My God, but we're in luck," Adam said. Then they both heard angry shouts from the front of the house.
"The Major," Adam yelped, and both he and Polly ran out into the night.
Fortunately for them both, the Major had been out of the house, making the rounds of his sentries when Mrs. Wyatt stormed up to him in her nightdress. "Those... those swine have seduced our daughter!" she snarled at him.
"Shhhh... quiet! What are you saying?" he asked her incredulously, looking around to make sure no one had overheard.
"Adam... I found him in bed with Gretta... him and that tart of his!"
"Had they... "
"They'd already done it... and I heard Gretta say that she'd been doing it for years!"
The Major slowly swelled with rage, then with a wild cry drew his saber and ran wildly toward the house and up the stairs. But when he rushed into the room his wife had indicated, he found no one there but a horribly frightened Gretta.
"Where are they?" he bellowed.
Gretta was too frightened to answer. Instead, she instinctively fell back on her old instincts, smiling the same slow seductive smile that had earlier reduced her father to confusion.
But it didn't work this time.
"Slut!" the Major snarled, and back- handed his daughter across the face. Gretta fell back onto the mattress, the quilt slipping from her shoulders, baring her upper body.
"Don't hurt her!" Mrs. Wyatt cried. She was standing in the doorway, frightened now, one hand held up to her mouth, wishing she hadn't told her husband.
"Get out!" Major Wyatt ordered, advancing on his wife, his eyes so hot and wild that she automatically flinched away. Unceremoniously the Major pushed her out into the hallway and slammed the door after her, wedging it shut with a chip of wood from the floor.
"Now... " he said slowly, turning to face his daughter, who was still dizzily shaking her head, partially stunned by his blow. She had forgotten the quilt in her fear, and it slipped completely from her body so that she lay naked on the tattered mattress. Mrs. Wyatt's lantern was still in the room, highlighting the girl's nakedness.
Slow rage boiled in the Major. Not too long ago he had hated himself for shamelessly caressing his supposedly innocent daughter's nude body. Now he had found out she'd made a fool of him all along. "Slut!" he kept repeating as he slowly advanced on the cringing girl.
"Don't... don't hit me again," Gretta pleaded, retreating back across the mattress crabwise, her terror-filled eyes locked on her father's twisted features. But the Major was no longer interested in hitting her. A quick hot flush of desire swept over him as he stared up between his daughter's thighs, to the damp tangle of her nakedly bared pussy fur. By the light of the lamp he could make out the moist pink gleam of her cunt slit, still gaping open a little from the earlier attentions of Adam's skewering cock. The Major's loins began to throb powerfully, and suddenly he knew what he was going to do. Suddenly there was no longer the barrier of innocence between himself and his daughter, and the old madness was sweeping over him, smashing aside the last of his inhibitions. He knew now, without reservations, that he had longed to fuck his daughter for years, ever since she had begun to develop into the incredibly sexy young' woman who tormented his dreams.
Now, with her lying defenselessly naked before him, already fucked by another man, what was there to stop his lust!
Madly the Major began to tear off his ragged uniform, while Gretta watched him in stunned disbelief. "Daddy," she said once, faintly. She had stopped retreating, and stared up at the big man, her eyes wide with shock.
The Major threw aside the last of his clothing and stood naked before his daughter. "Don't move," he warned the girl, advancing menacingly toward her. But Gretta couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to. The trembling girl lay paralyzed on the mattress, half propped up on her elbows, staring at her father's nude body, particularly at the huge cock throbbing between his hairy thighs, jerking higher and higher with his every heartbeat.
"Daddy," she said again, this time more positively. Then he was standing over her and her arms raised up to him, her eyes no longer full of fear but hot, inviting. "Daddy!" she moaned in invitation. "Oh, Daddy... Fuck me!"
The Major was thunderstruck. He stopped, staring down at his naked daughter, slowly realizing that she was inviting him to ravish her lush young body. Mesmerized, he stared down at her crotch, wide open now, baring her juicy cunt to his eager gaze. Then, with a smothered cry, he fell full length on the girl, feeling her tender thighs encircle his body, her calves pressing against his buttocks, drawing him down toward her seething genitals. There was no foreplay. The Major rammed his swollen rod up into Gretta's compliant body, the big organ slithering easily past Adam's slippery cum, deep up into the girl's hotly welcoming vagina.
"Oh, Daddy," Gretta moaned, wrapping her arms about her father's neck and drawing him down tightly against her body. "I've wanted you to make love to me for so long!" Fuck me! Fuck me! Ohhh... fuck me!"
Half insane with incredulous lust, the Major did as his daughter asked, pounding his big organ up into her tight, welcoming cunt, madly aware of her firm young body against his. He felt her heaving breasts naked against his chest, and the slippery heat of her loins writhing erotically against his churning hips. Then he forgot everything, concentrating on fucking hard up into the lovely girl moaning beneath him.
Gretta responded powerfully, her strong stomach muscles working hard, grinding her cunt up against her father's lunging loins, holding him tight to her with encircling arms and legs, panting, nipping at his neck with her sharp little teeth, completely lost in the forbidden delight of being fucked by her own father, an erotic fantasy she had entertained for years. Already excited by her languid coupling with Adam and Polly, Gretta was rising to heights of erotic passion such as she had never known before.
Regaining a measure of self-control, the Major pried his neck free of his daughter's arms and rose up on stiffened arms to look down at her. My God, she's beautiful!-he told himself, entranced by the girl's sex-flushed face. Pure eroticism shone from her glittering eyes, driving him on to greater and greater exertions, until his huge thick prick was flashing in and out of her wetly welcoming cunt with blinding speed, his hips thudding against her upturned ass-cheeks and thighs, gradually jolting the girl higher and higher along the mattress, her breasts bouncing and jiggling in time to his frenzied lunges. Beautiful... beautiful... he kept repeating silently to himself, mentally comparing his daughter to Polly, remembering how the other girl had looked when he'd fucked into her like this time and time again. And he began to curse himself for frightening the older girl away. Her blonde beauty was such a complement to Gretta's darker honey coloring. God, the man who had them both...
Then he started to cum, the semen pulled up out of his wildly sensitive testicles by the eager nibbling of his daughter's tight cunt. He fell on the girl's body, grasping her tightly, holding her down so that he could empty his seed incestuously up into her hot young belly. Gretta wailed with perverse pleasure as she felt herself being pinned helplessly to the mattress while her father began his last few frenzied thrusts up into her vagina. Then, as she felt the first burning spurts of his semen up into her cunt, the girl gave a wild cry of delight and began to writhe and buck under her father's crushing weight, her own orgasm ripping through her cunt and up into her womb, turning her into a convulsing mass of animal lust. Her vagina pulled and tugged greedily at her father's spouting organ, coaxing it to fill her to the brim with his boiling hot sperm, starting a fire in her mind to equal the one in her loins. Once again, half-audible obscenities bubbled past her pretty lips, lost against her father's powerful neck. Dimly the spasming girl was aware of her thighs and buttocks growing hot and slippery as the Major continued to pump an incredible quantity of his cum up into her belly.
Gradually the tempo of their fucking slowed down, until the Major's slowly shrinking cock was barely moving up inside his daughter's satiated cunt. They slid slowly apart but with their loins still locked lewdly together, their bodies slipping over each other's sex-slippery skin. Neither father or daughter said anything more, but each was determined to remain the other's lover. They could hear Mrs. Wyatt pounding on the door, shouting for the Major to let her in.
Slowly the two lovers parted, their bodies lingering nakedly together for a moment. "Better wrap the quilt around you," the Major admonished, struggling into his clothing. Finally he opened the door.
"Go to bed, woman," he bluntly ordered his pop-eyed wife. She stared first at him, then at Gretta, but the fierce glare in her husband's eyes kept her silent. Frightened, she went down the hall to her room, keeping her questions to herself.
"You go to bed too," the Major said softly to his daughter.
"I'd... I'd like to stay here," Gretta replied, then went on hesitantly. "You... won't hurt Polly or Adam, will you?"
"Of course not," the Major replied. No... he wouldn't hurt Polly... he desired her body too much. But as for Adam... that young bastard was now his rival for two women, and one of them was his own daughter. A quick court-martial for desertion and he would be out of the way. "Go to sleep, daughter," he said, turning to leave the room. She gave him that same slow sensuous smile again. And this time he knew what it meant.
CHAPTER SIX
Adam and Polly fled through the night, listening for sounds of pursuit behind them, later wondering how they got away so easily. Toward morning they bundled together in their blankets on the cold hard ground, getting an hour or two's sleep before dawn. Still fearing pursuit, they pushed deep into a nearby forest, where they were lucky enough to find an old hut, long abandoned by its owner. It served as shelter for two more days, then conscience began to bother Adam. After all, he was a soldier and had effectively deserted, whatever the provocation might be. Eventually, over Polly's objections, he determined to go back and face whatever charges might be against him, trusting that the Major's wrath had cooled somewhat.
So he and Polly left the forest and walked back to the encampment, only to find it deserted. A straggler told them that Washington's army had fled across the river into New Jersey, closely pursued by Cornwallis' army. Staring hopelessly at the far shore, Adam knew he had no way to cross the wide Hudson. He and Polly were still standing on the riverbank when they were spotted by a British patrol. "A Yankee soldier!" someone shouted, and moments later musket balls were whistling about them. Adam and Polly ran into the woods with the British after them, until Adam spun round and with a lucky shot from his old fowling piece, dropped the sergeant leading the patrol. The soldiers mistakenly took him for a rifleman and declined to follow so deadly a marksman.
By nightfall Adam and Polly had regained their hut in the forest. For over two weeks remained there, Adam foraging for supplies in the daytime, both he and Polly huddling together against the increasing cold at night. They never dared light more than a small fire.
Then a stroke of luck. Out foraging one day, Adam discovered a damaged canoe hidden in a thicket near where the forest impinged on the river bank. Using bark from a tree, he slowly repaired the canoe, not telling Polly about it for several days.
"Polly, I've found a way across the river," he said to her one evening. "Do you want to go?"
Polly thought it over. At first she had been glad that she and Adam were no longer with the army, happy to be spared the gut-wrenching fear when Adam marched off to battle. She had hoped to make herself and Adam a little nest here in the forest until the hostilities were over. But cold and boredom quickly set in, turning her refuge into a prison. And Polly quickly discovered sentiments in herself she had not previously suspected. During her stay with the army she had become a genuine patriot, loathing the British and their German mercenaries, resenting their war against the American States. She genuinely missed being with Washington's army. "Let's leave tonight," she said firmly.
They left instead at dawn, just when it was light enough for them to make out the dark mass of the New Jersey shore, but with enough of the night remaining to make their canoe look like a floating log. They made shore with little difficulty and quickly vanished into the New Jersey forest, narrowly ducking a British patrol.
But once in New Jersey, they discovered that the quick-moving Cornwallis, so unlike his slow superior, Howe, had already chased the Americans clear across New Jersey and into Pennsylvania. Doggedly determined, Adam and Polly slogged on through the country-side. Two days later it began to snow, and their cold and misery increased. Adam took to aiding barns and farmyards for food, and once he came back with a horse blanket, which the two shivering refugees sorely needed.
They were not far from Princeton when their luck ran out. Cold, hungry, and completely exhausted, Adam and Polly had fallen asleep in an old stable when they were discovered by Hessian troops. Coming groggily awake, Adam reached for his gun, but it was kicked aside and he found himself staring up at a burly German, who had his musket poised high, ready to ram his bayonet point down into Adam's belly. It was Polly who saved him, throwing herself in the way, causing the mercenary to hold back his thrust. Fortunately a British officer came running into the stable, alerted by the noise, and saved Adam's life. Grumbling, the Hessian's jerked Adam to his feet and roughly tied his hands behind him. Sold as unwilling soldiers to the British by their greedy German ruler, these loutish young middle-European peasants resented the harsh conditions in the American war. From time to time they took their spleen out on rebels unfortunate enough to fall into their hands. The brighter among them deserted, and vanished into the immensity of America.
"Leave him alone, you beasts!" Polly cried as they led Adam away. She tried to follow, but two Hessians forced her back .into the stable. The lecherous gleam in their dull blue eyes told her she was about to get raped. Gasping, Polly backed into a corner of the bam, beginning to fumble up beneath her skirts for a knife she kept hidden there, determined to fight to the death if she had to.
Then the young English officer appeared in the doorway again. "You great bloody oafs!" he roared at the two Hessians. "Bring the girl out here at once or I'll have you shot!"
The Hessian's understood only part of what their English-speaking officer was saying, but their was no mistaking his anger. Mumbling in their thick peasant German, they dragged Polly out into the yard.
"I'm sorry, miss," the officer said. "But we'll have to take you in too. There's a spy scare going on and my colonel demands that we bring in all persons who can't adequately account for themselves, and I'm afraid that you being found with him," and he indicated the bound Adam, "puts you in that category."
A kindly man, the young Englishman hated his duties in America and particularly his colonel.
"What will happen to us?" Polly asked breathlessly.
,"The young man will go to a prison camp, no doubt, or worse, to a prison ship," the officer said glumly. "And... well, I'd better warn you, miss, you may see some things you don't like. Our colonel and his lady... " The young man looked around to see if he were being overheard, but his men were having too much fun prodding Adam along. "Well... they're a strange couple. I strongly recommend you don't do anything to antagonize them."
Filled with foreboding, Polly went along meekly with the troops, who never permitted her to get too close to Adam. Even if she could have she wouldn't have left, determined to do what she could to help her captured lover. Everyone in the army had heard of the brutality with which the British treated their prisoners. Not too many returned alive from the hideous conditions of their captivity.
In the early part of the afternoon, Polly, Adam, and their captors entered the British camp. It was set about a mile outside the town of Princeton, consisting mainly , of tents with a smattering of permanent structures. The prisoners were marched to a large house in a small wood about three hundred yards from the main camp. "Good luck," the young officer whispered to Polly, whom he had slowly become enamored of on the march, and then reverting to a correct military air, he pushed the still bound Adam into a large room.
Polly followed unbidden, and found that she and Adam were facing a large ornate desk. On the other side of it sat an elegant man wearing the uniform and badges of rank of a British Colonel. When Adam was thrust before him, he looked up with the cold superciliousness that was the trademark of the British upper class.
"A Yankee prisoner, Sir Charles," the young officer said quickly in reply to the Colonel's questioning glance. "We took him and this woman in a stable about three miles out of town."
"A rebel soldier?" the Colonel asked in a bored, cultivated voice. "Or a spy?"
"A soldier," the young officer said quickly. "Probably a straggler from Washington's army. He had on him what passed for standard military equipment among the rebels."
"Then I suppose we can't hang him," the Colonel said regretfully. He mused for a moment, and then his eyes wandered lazily over toward Polly, slowly kindling as he arrogantly examined her dishevelled but still lush young body. "And the girl?"
"Taken with him. Probably his wife or his mistress."
"Well then, lock the man up. We'll send him off to the prison ships with the next batch. As for the girl... keep her in detention until we decide what to do with her."
Polly was horrified by the way she and Adam were being disposed of without even being heard. "Wait!" she cried. "Don't separate us... send me with Adam!" As she spoke, a door opened in the back of the room and a tall striking woman with red hair entered.
"Well... what have we here, Charles?" she asked the Colonel. "A company of players putting on a melodrama? What a touching little speech."
"Ah... Lucretia, my dear," the Colonel said, turning toward the woman. "Sounds like it, doesn't it? But I'm afraid it's only a wretched rebel prisoner and his woman. He's about to go off to the prison ships and she wants to go with him. Touching indeed, but I'm damned sure she'd change her mind if she ever saw one of those rotting hulks."
"Why, Charles... how can you be so hard?" the woman said, "parting this young couple. Keep the man here. Perhaps he'll repent of his rebel ways and remember his duties to king and country. What about it, young man?" the woman said. "How do you answer?" To Adam's surprise a fierce patriotic pride welled up in him. Faced with these two cold aristocratic symbols of England's rule, he found he couldn't be a traitor to the cause he had embarked on so blindly. "Never!" he said fiercely. "I'll be damned before I sell my country out to a bunch of royal ass-kissers!"
"Take him away!" the Colonel barked, his eyes protruding in anger. "Lock him up and send him out to the ships with the very next batch!"
"Charles," the woman drawled threateningly. "I think you're making a mistake." She let a tense silence follow her words until the Colonel was compelled to turn around and look into her face. Their eyes met and held for a moment until his finally wavered and darted away. "Put him in the small jail back of the house," she finally said, when it was clear she held the upper hand. "Perhaps we can make him see the error of his ways. The girl can stay with the other women."
"Very well," the Colonel muttered. Then, more strongly to the young officer, "Take them away!"
The young officer smartly saluted and led the prisoners out the door, leaving the Colonel alone with his wife. "Why did you do that?" he asked her savagely. "Do you take a fancy to that young pup? How unlike you, Lucretia!"
"Don't be absurd," she said cuttingly. "It's the girl! My God, what a prize! What a lush peach to pluck! Dirty and tired, perhaps, but a little care will fatten her up."
"Then why keep the young man around?"
"Oh, Charles," the woman said tiredly. "How did you ever become a leader of men... I know... your father's money. But didn't you see how attached she was to him, how ready to undergo any trial on his behalf? With him in our hands, she'll do anything I... we tell her to."
"We?" the Colonel asked suspiciously. "You mean you'll let me have some of her too?"
"Of course, my dear," his wife said archly. "When I'm finished with her."
"There may not be much left of her by then," the Colonel muttered but his eyes lit up as he remembered Polly's beauty. "It's a bargain then."
* * *
Adam and Polly were led around to the back of the house, where Adam was locked into a small cell with barred door that faced the woods. "It could be worse," he said to Polly, gazing ruefully at the straw pallet and wooden bench, and indeed, it was clean and large enough. After the door clanged shut on him, Polly was taken to a small house about a hundred yards away. Iron bars had been nailed over the windows, and a guard stood in front of the door.
"For women prisoners," the young officer said. Polly wondered why he seemed so embarrassed, why he had trouble meeting her eyes. "I want you to remember, miss," he whispered to Polly before he turned her over to the guard, "that not all Englishmen are like the Colonel and his wife."
Still puzzling over his words, Polly was shoved through the front door, and found herself confronted by a half-circle of curious women, about a half-dozen in all. "Well, look at this one," a big brunette said. "A blonde beauty for her ladyship's fun and games."
"Oh... won't that pretty white skin turn a lovely color," another crowed.
"What... what do you mean?" Polly asked, confused. She looked around at her fellow prisoners. Without exception, they were all lovely, or showed signs of having been. But they moved with a nervous restlessness that betrayed fear. One even looked half-mad.
"You mean you don't know?" the big brunette asked. "Well lovely, you've got a big surprise ahead of you. Lady Sandringham... I'm sure you've met her or you wouldn't be here... likes women... girls. She likes to do things to them, things which they'd never volunteer to do by themselves, which is why we're all locked up here."
"Oh my God!" Polly exclaimed in horror. She had at first been grateful to the redheaded woman who had seemingly interceded on her and Adam's behalf. But now... she looked around with horror at the tense worn faces of the young women around her. "Can't you refuse her?" Polly asked.
"Not if you want to stay healthy," she was answered. "Oh, cheer up," another woman told her, taking pity on the girl's obvious terror. "It's not all that bad here. We get plenty to eat and don't have to work ourselves half to death like other women prisoners are forced to do. You know, really the hardest thing to bear here is the lack of men." A dreamy look came over the woman's face. "Oh, my lord how I'd love to get my hands on a man... be reminded what a cock feels like again. Sometimes Lady Sandringham gets me just excited enough to want to... " She broke off with a shiver. The woman who had been speaking was a slender young girl with long coal-black hair cascading down her back and an intense, sensuous face. Suddenly a wicket in the door slid back, and a male voice came through it. "Orders are that the new girl's supposed to take a bath and get herself ready for an interview with her ladyship."
"Oh-oh... you're in for it already," someone said to Polly.
"Oh... but I can't... "
"Yes you can... if you want to stay in one piece." And the others led Polly into the kitchen, where water was heated for her bath. Dumbly she let herself be undressed while the circle of women clustered about and dunned unheeded advice into her ears. "Mmmmmmm... she's got pretty tits," the black-haired one commented approvingly, and lovingly ran her palms over Polly's sweetly rounded orbs. In the cold air, the nipples sprang up immediately.
"Eliza!" one of the women scolded. "Leave her alone! Can't you see the poor dear's scared half to death!"
Eliza hung her head and stepped back. "You ought to touch 'em yourself... they're as soft as satin."
After Polly was bathed, clean clothing was found for her, and then the women pounded on the inside of the thick front door. "She's ready," one of them told the guard, a dour old man with a bayoneted musket at his side. The key crashed into the lock and the door groaned open.
"Now the rest of you stay back!" the old man warned the others. "She's the only one can come out."
Blinking in the late afternoon sunlight, Polly was led away from the little house toward the main house. She cast a despairing glance at the door to Adam's prison as she went by, but the guard wouldn't let her get close enough to see whether or not Adam had spied her. Then she was being ushered into the main house, through a back entrance. The guard opened a heavy dark door at the end of a dark passageway. "Well... this is it," he said brusquely, and pushed her through the opening, slamming the door after her.
* * *
After her triumph over her husband, Lady Lucretia Sandringham left his office full of excitement. My God, but that girl's lovely! she kept repeating silently to herself. About time she got one of that quality. Those other drabs were beginning to bore her. At thirty-four years old Lady Sandringham was a very beautiful woman, though her beauty was somewhat marred by the cruelty that occasionally showed through her aristocratic features. Born the ninth daughter of an impoverished country vicar, she had immensely bettered her fortunes when she had allowed her self to be pursued, courted and debauched by the second son of a wealthy nobleman. Having gathered enough damning evidence to blight the young man's career forever, she forced him to marry her, raising her far above her station in one quick leap. Through her merciless prodding, her husband's career had prospered too, due partly to his money and partly to her ruthless ambition. It was she who had decided that he should go into the military. It didn't matter to her that he had no military ability at all. Her husband's tall elegant figure and meticulously correct bearing, plus the great wealth at his disposal were all the attributes necessary to a young man in an army where commissions were routinely sold to the highest bidder. Ability didn't matter. Only birth and money counted, which helped account for the lamentably low quality of the majority of British officers.
Lady Sandringham's husband started with a captaincy, then bought a majority. Now, the American war had made new openings in the British officer corps, and with the outlay of a large amount of cash, the lady could now count herself the wife of Colonel Sir Charles Sandringham, K.B., etc. Never mind that he was a weak, ineffectual man. Never mind that he had the reputation of being a coward under fire. All that mattered to Lady Sandringham was that she ruled the man who ruled a regiment of more than two thousand men.
Now Lady Sandringham was in a position to exercise power. Growing up under the narrow regimen of a nervous country clergyman always preaching eternal damnation for the sins of the flesh, punishing his children hideously for showing any spark of life, Lady Sandringham had early developed a streak of repressed rage and fear that showed itself as sadistic cruelty whenever the opportunity arose. And after marrying a rich young man, the opportunity arose often. She was one of the first women in London to join the new craze among the aristocracy -- flagellation clubs. Hating men, she had been a charter member of an all-female group, where, in a mood of general hysteria, the women had taken turns beating one another with birch rods.
It hadn't taken Lady Sandringham long to find out she much preferred giving punishment to taking it. How she loved to see a pair of round naked feminine buttocks turn red, then black and blue under her inspired whipping! Even more exciting yet was to chastise a set of well-shaped breasts, wringing cries of agony from her victim. Gradually, the only way Lady Sandringham could achieve sexual gratification was through women, and then, only in a fear-charged atmosphere.
Lady Sandringham was very happy that cold December day. She had a new playmate. She left orders to prepare the girl, and then went to her room to get ready for the evening's entertainment. Once ready, she went down to her special room, the one reserved for special occasions.
* * *
When Polly was pushed through that heavy door, she instinctively cringed, expecting an imminent assault. But she found herself alone in a medium-sized room. It was a pleasant room with a soft carpet on the floor and lovely wall hangings, but oddly bare of furniture. In one corner was a large open chair, the sloping back well-padded with soft cushions. A small door was set in the back wall.
Polly was beginning to relax, moving curiously around the room, investigating some leather strips set in the wall that appeared to be straps, when she heard a click behind her and spun around just in time to see Lady Sandringham coming through the small door. Polly gasped. Lady Sandringham was dressed all in black leather -- a long coat reaching halfway down her thighs, fastened in the front, and underneath that, tight black breeches, and heavy riding boots. In one hand she carried a long supple birch wand. "Well... I see those idiots managed to get you to the right room," Lady Sandringham said pleasantly. Polly made no response, but stood perfectly still, almost in the center of the room.
"My... you certainly are a lovely creature when the dirt's been scraped off," Lady Sandringham said, stepping closer and reaching out to caress Polly's long blonde hair.
"Don't touch me," Polly hissed, knocking aside the woman's hand. A moment later she yelped with pain as the birch wand whistled through the air and lashed her in the ribs. Agonizing pain rocketed through the girl's body, and she had trouble regaining her breath.
"Never lay a hand on your betters unless asked to do so," Lady Sandringham said coldly. Polly wanted to reply, but the sight of the birch wand made her think twice.
"Now, my pretty," Lady Sandringham went on. "Let's not waste any of my time. Take off that dowdy dress and let me see if you're the prize I think you are."
Polly drew herself up proudly. "Don't be ridiculous," she said scathingly. "If you think I'm going to... owwwwwwwww!"
The birch wand had whipped around, slashing into Polly's left thigh... then into her right thigh. Dancing with pain, she lunged forward, trying to grab Lady Sandringham's arm, but all she got for her pain was a stinging cut across her own arm. Then another across the belly. Helpless with pain, all Polly could do was huddle in agony, half bent over.
"Now, my foolish little rebel... once again... take off your clothes."
As the wand rose, Polly gave a preliminary yelp and started pulling off her clothing. Anything to escape the pain, and she might gain time in which to think of a way out of this horrible mess. Polly was naked in record time, and stood trembling before Lady Sandringham, her smooth skin looking very white in comparison to the other woman's black costume.
"Better than I expected," Lady Sandringham hissed, her breath tight in her throat. "How I'm going to enjoy the next hour!"
"What... what are you going to do?" Polly asked in a whisper.
"Oh... many things... and you'll be doing a lot of them yourself. Now... first I want you to go over by that wall... where the straps are."
"Straps?"
"For your arms. We can't have you jumping around."
"No! I won't do that!" Polly said desperately, knowing that she'd be totally helpless if she did as Lady Sandringham was asking. She determined it would be better to go down fighting if she had to. She was a strong girl, and though not as tall as Lady Sandringham, ought to be able to put up a good struggle. "You'll have to make me," she snarled, ready to rush in under that terrible wand.
But Lady Sandringham back up. "How charming," she laughed. "You have spirit. Now you force me to play my trump card. Do you have any idea what it is?"
Polly held a suspicious silence. "That dull clod of a lover of yours. If you disappoint me, I'll see that he's shot as a spy. I can do that, you know."
"You wouldn't!" Polly exclaimed in horror.
"Oh... wouldn't I?" Lady Sandringham asked amusedly, arching one eyebrow. "I would get almost as much pleasure out of that as out of what I'm going to do to you in the next few minutes." Then her voice grew sharper. "Now get over against that wall before I lose patience with you!"
Knowing she was beaten, not daring to play with Adam's life before this obviously mad woman, Polly tremblingly did as she ordered, standing against the wall. In a few seconds, Lady Sandringham had fastened the straps around her wrists, with her arms pinioned straight out sideways, as if she were crucified. Then other straps were buckled around her ankles, spreadeagling the girl with her legs held wide apart. Polly was acutely aware of her crotch being defenselessly open.
"Oh God... what are you going to do to me?" she blurted out, terrified by the look on Lady Sandringham's face.
"You're going to learn about pleasure and pain," the tall redhead purred. "The pain first so the pleasure will be all the more intense." And without any warning the birch wand lashed out, this time sinking into Polly's breasts. "Aaaaaggghhhhhhh!" she shrieked, trying to twist away, but the straps held her securely in place. Whap! again the wand struck, this time from the other direction, and Polly thought she was going to faint from the pain, her breasts felt as if they were on fire, as if red-hot irons were burning into their tender surface. Looking down, she saw angry welts rising on the pearly skin, one running right through the nipple. Horrified at the thought of being permanently mutilated, she screamed for Lady Sandringham to stop. "I'll do anything you want!" she shrieked.
"You're doing it already," the statuesque redhead replied, her eyes wild with pleasure as she saw Polly cringing nakedly before her. For the moment she abandoned her whipping of Polly's breasts and began to work lower, down the girl's sides, over the ribs, then down onto her softly curving hips and thighs, making Polly jerk and dance so wildly that the straps began to cut into her wrists and ankles. Lady Sandringham even delivered a few light blows to the wailing girls genitals, on the outer lips, making her howl with pain. Then, when Polly was certain she was about to pass out, Lady Sandringham suddenly tossed down the wand.
"Now for the pleasure," she panted, and began to unfasten her coat. As she peeled it aside, the moaning Polly saw that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it, and in a moment, Lady Sandringham was naked to the waist. There was something wrong with her breeches, but Polly wasn't able to see what it was, because Lady Sandringham suddenly launched herself forward and began to rain hot wet kisses all over Polly's throbbing breasts. The girl moaned with renewed pain, but gradually the sting of the blows began to lessen, so that she was more aware of what her tormentor was doing with her mouth.
By now, Lady Sandringham was paying particular attention to Polly's nipples, licking them greedily, sucking them deep into her mouth and worrying them gently with her teeth. It gradually became obvious to Polly that her ladyship was very expert at what she was doing. And she had been right. After the agony of the whipping, the hot liquid feel of the woman's tongue and lips on her nipples felt maddeningly good. Polly was experienced enough at sex by now to know when she couldn't fight a feeling, and in a few minutes, Lady Sandringham had her moaning with pleasure. Helplessly the girl writhed and trembled against the wall.
"Now, my pretty... I'm going to do something for you you'll never forget," Lady Sandringham said, her voice low and husky. Polly summoned up the courage to look the other woman in the eyes, and she felt her insides weaken when she saw the combined lust and cruelty there. Then her ladyship dropped to her knees before Polly and in a moment it became clear what she was going to do next.
She was going to lick Polly's cunt.
"Oh... God... " Polly moaned helplessly, horribly humiliated at being this evil woman's helpless plaything. Then she felt soft feminine cheeks working in between her thighs and a gentle brushing aside of her pubic hair. "Aaaaaahhhhhhhh," Polly moaned as Lady Sandringham's tongue licked expertly into her wide-open slit, and she felt her body jerk against the straps. Oh my God it feels good! she found herself thinking, and knew with sickening dread that Lady Sandringham was going to make her cum. And she hated her for it. Hated her for the cold, vicious way she was using her body, as if she had bought it in a shop. Then Lady Sandringham's tongue was working hotly against her clitoris, teasing the little sensation- bud, licking it hot and erect, until Polly felt as if it were going to burst. Never before had the stunned girl felt such knowing tongue licking into her genitals. Her entire body began to feel as if it were vibrating with sensation.
"Aaaaahhhhh... oooohhhhhhhh... aaaiiiieeeeee!" Polly began to shriek, as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her belly, beginning each time in her wildly titillated clitoris, racing through her body, and making her painfully swollen nipples throb with agonizing pleasure. On and on the orgasms went, one after the other until Polly was sagging down against the straps, too exhausted to hold herself up.
"Enough... oh please... stop!" she moaned, her cunt feeling as if it were on fire.
"Yes... I think you've had enough," Lady Sandringham said, getting up from her knees. Polly saw that the older woman's face was glistening with her orgasmic juices. To Polly's surprise, Lady Sandringham began to unfasten the straps holding Polly up. Once free, she staggered and had to be helped by the slender redhead. Polly found herself intensely aware of Lady Sandringham's breasts brushing against her arm, slender, tapering, well-shaped breasts with smooth brown nipples capping the tips. Polly was allowed to collapse on the floor in front of the big chair.
"Now get your breath, my dear," Lady Sandringham said in a friendly voice. "So we can go with the rest of our little game."
"There's more?" Polly asked in horror, "But of course! Now it's my turn to be made happy." Going over to the chair, Lady Sandringham sat down in it, spreading her legs as she did so, and Polly now saw what was so odd about the tights she was wearing.
There was no crotch in them!
Only inches away from her horrified eyes, Lady Sandringham's cunt was staring back at her, a tangle of dark russet fur with a deep gaping slit between, obviously ready, demanding attention. Of course! Now Lady Sandringham wanted Polly to eat her!
"No... I can't," the girl moaned. Then, "Owwww!" as the wand whipped down against her back.
"Remember the pain my dear? Would you like to feel it again... ? Good... I thought not. Now crawl in between my legs and do to me what I did to you." And when Polly still hesitated the wand was raised threateningly, but it never descended, because Polly scuttled quickly between the older woman's legs. "Now eat it," she was told.
Polly found herself swallowing with difficulty. How could she ever force herself to put her mouth against that hairy thing? she wondered. Well... she'd better find a way, both for herself and for Adam.
"Open it up with your fingertips and then lick my clitoris," she suddenly heard Lady Sandringham say. Quickly she reached forward, doing as she was asked, fearing the wand. She brushed aside the crisp red pubic hair and pried open the pussy lips beneath. It doesn't look so bad, she thought. In fact, it looked kind of... sexy! There was no doubt Lady Sandringham was aroused. Glistening dewdrops of cuntal moisture was beading up on the pink inner lips, trickling down toward the woman's vagina. Polly could see the dimpled vaginal opening pulsing expectantly. And while the odor from Lady Sandringham's genitals was noticeable, it had a certain heady perfume about it.
Whack! Down came the wand, and with a yelp of pain, Polly lunged forward, obediently burying her face far up between Lady Sandringham's long graceful thighs. Immediately her senses were flooded with an exciting muskiness that was stimulating to the girl. Well... if I can have it done to me, then I can do it to somebody else! the young blonde rationalized, and began to lick furiously at Lady Sandringham's gaping cunt...
"Oh yes... that's good," Lady Sandringham moaned above her. "Now higher... lick my clit... Aaaaahhhhhhhhh!"
Polly experienced a weird sense of power as she felt the older woman writhing above her, and might even have enjoyed what she was being forced to do, but Lady Sandringham plied the wand again, heightening her own perverse pleasure by inflicting pain on Polly while Polly was licking pleasure into her cunt.
"Harder!" she snarled. "Lick harder!" Then later, "Now stick your tongue up my vagina... oh, yes, shove it in... " Polly found she had to form the tip of her tongue into a sharp spear of flesh to work it up into her tormentor's honeyed cuntal opening. She felt the powerful muscles ringing the opening hold, then stretch and flower open before her, and a moment later a slightly acid taste flooded into her mouth. Under Lady Sandringham's prodding, she ran her tongue quickly in and out of the gushing opening, causing her ladyship to moan loudly above.
"Now... my clit again... I'm going to cum... " Again the birch wand cracked down on Polly's naked shoulders, making her whimper with pain. Desperately she locked her lips around the older woman's hugely swollen clitoris, sucking on it greedily, trying to make her forget to use the wand by giving her such intense pleasure she wouldn't be able to move. And it worked. Glancing up with her mouth still glued tightly to Lady Sandringham's madly pulsating cunt, her tongue slithering repeatedly over the tip of her clitoris, she saw that Lady Sandringham was finally totally out of control. Her head had fallen back against the cushion, her eyes glittering with passion. Her upturned breasts were rising and falling quickly in time to her frenzied panting, and her sleek stomach muscles were fluttering madly. The birch wand had dropped from her nerveless fingers onto the floor.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh, God... I'm CUMMINNNNNGGGGGGG!" Lady Sandringham cried out, and a moment later Polly felt a hot gush of pussy juices scalding into her mouth and running down her chin. Lady Sandringham trembled and quivered above, her body rigid, every muscle taut with passion. Her orgasm held and held, on and on... and then the lithe redhead collapsed with a last shudder.
"Enough of that!" she said coldly, roughly pushing Polly's head away from her cunt, and more than anything else that had happened between them, that single act firmly cemented the young blonde's hatred for the older woman.
Polly was ordered to dress. Lady Sandringham was strangely subdued and acted as if she was embarrassed by Polly's presence. Pulling her jacket back on, Lady Sandringham picked up the birch wand and went out the small door. Polly had to wait several minutes, but soon enough, the old guard came to take her back to the small house with the other girls.
"How do you feel?" she was asked anxiously.
"Horrible," she answered, "I just want to go to sleep."
"Well... you'd better wash your face first. You've got dried pussy-juice all over it."
With a helpless little cry, Polly rushed into the bathroom and was sick.
CHAPTER SEVEN
To Polly's surprise, the welts on her body disappeared quickly. "Her Ladyship takes care not to mark us up permanently," Eliza told her. "She doesn't like blemished merchandise."
Day after day went by, with the other girls in the small house taking their turns as Lady Sandringham's playthings one by one, stumbling back to be soothed by the others. Polly and Eliza became particular friends, Polly greatly appreciating the dark-haired girl's cheerful, earthy manner. Christmas passed. Then, one of the girl's who had been sent into the army camp on an errand came breathlessly back, bursting with news.
"General Washington crossed the Delaware River Christmas night!" she told her entranced audience, "and attacked the Hessians at Trenton. They were all either killed or captured... the Hessians, I mean!"
Cheers rang through the little house. If the girls hadn't been patriots to begin with they quickly became patriots after undergoing Lady Sandringham's gentle attentions. "Is he marching this way?" Eliza asked hopefully.
"No... I gather he has hardly any troops left. He fell back into Pennsylvania the day after the attack."
For the next few days, gloom was mixed with elation among the captive women. They burst with pride that Washington's ragged troops had defeated some of the finest professional soldiers in Europe. But now they knew they were unlikely to be rescued.
And Lady Sandringham became increasingly vicious. She hated the rebels, and after their victory at Trenton, took some of her rage out on the girls, beating one so badly she had to be carried back. But her rage led to her undoing.
The night of the second of January, seventeen-seventy-seven, it was Eliza's turn. When she came back from the main house she was curiously disturbed and excited. The other girls clustered around her, sensing something was about to happen, but Eliza waited until the guard had closed and locked the door before she began speaking.
"Her Ladyship was in a rare good mood tonight," she told the others in a low voice. "Very indiscreet, she was. Told me how it was going to be the end for General Washington."
"What did she mean?" Polly asked fiercely.
"She said Lord Cornwallis was going to 'bag the fox'. It seems that General Washington has crossed the river again and has his whole army in Trenton. Lord Cornwallis is setting out tonight with eight thousand men to surprise him. Her Ladyship claims that once Conrwallis traps him with his back to that icy river, Washington will lose his army and perhaps his life."
"Oh... that's terrible!" Polly exclaimed. "Somebody has to warn General Washington!"
"Perhaps we could ask her Ladyship if she'd let one of us ride over there," one of the women said acidly.
"But one of us has to!" Polly said. "Isn't there any way we can slip out of here? Maybe we could bribe the guard."
"Bribe old Carruthers? Don't make me laugh. He's unbribable... so dried up he's got no wants left. And he's so afraid of Lady Sandringham... "
"But Carruther's isn't on watch tonight!" Eliza said excitedly. "He's sick, or something. A young cockney was the one who took me over to the main house!" A crafty look stole over the dark-haired girl's face. "If I get him in here," she said, "will one of you knock him out?"
"I'll do it!" Polly replied promptly. "Good... and maybe I can get something for myself out of it. Her Ladyship made me randy tonight... " Going to the door, Eliza pounded on it loudly. A moment later the wicket slid back and the women could make out a thin shrewd face. "Wot the 'ell you bloody women want?" a cockney voice growled.
"Just a little company, mate," Eliza purred. "You don't know how long we go without talking to a man. Why don't you come in for a while?"
"Be bloody serious. 'Er Ladyship 'ud 'ave me life if I did that!"
"You wouldn't even do it for this?" Eliza said with a laugh, and pulling down her bodice, bared a pair of pert firm breasts. The other women could see the man's eyes bulge out. "Come on in," Eliza begged. "I haven't been made love to by a man for months. None of us have."
"Gor blimey," the guard moaned. "It's more than a man can stand!" There was the sound of the key in the lock and the door swung open. "All right," the guard said, obviously nervous, but his eyes locked on Eliza's naked tits. "I'll do h'it but h'it's going to 'ave to be fast... got to git back to me-post!"
"Come on," Eliza giggled, and immediately lay on her back on the carpet, pulling her dress up high, baring her naked genitals. She wasn't wearing any underwear, and her crisp black pubic hair framed an invitingly tight young cunt. The guard's eyes popped, and he quickly peeled off his uniform coat, then unbuttoned and pulled down his breeches. Underfed and underpaid like most British soldiers, he was a skinny little man with thin shanks and a narrow chest, but the cock that leaped out of his drawers was long and thick enough. Eliza's eyes widened in pleased anticipation. "Now!" she panted. "Fuck me!"
The guard took one last apprehensive look around at the circle of women, then craftily took the huge keyring and slipped it around his upper arm before lowering himself down toward the waiting Eliza. A moment later he was enthusiastically fucking the moaning girl, his swollen rod flashing in and out of her black-fringed cunt while the others watched. Polly had found a billet of wood to use as a club, wrapping it in leather so she wouldn't crack the guard's skull. But when she came up behind the madly fucking little man and raised it over his skull, Eliza's passion-drenched eyes widened, and she called out, "No! Not yet!"
"Wot's that?" the guard panted, starting to turn around.
"I... I meant for you not to cum yet!" Eliza panted desperately. "Wait for me... I'm so close!"
Grinning, the guard continued with his inspired fucking, until both he and Eliza were moaning and bucking together in orgasm. Finally the girl sank back, indescribable relief in her eyes. "Now," she said wearily, and Polly brought the improvised club whistling down on the back of the guard's head. He collapsed with a groan. Quickly Polly stripped the key-ring from his arm and unlocked the front door. "Tell him to hold his peace about this," Polly told Eliza. "Tell him what Lady Sandringham will do to him if she ever finds out what he did!"
Polly slipped out into the night and headed for the army camp. As she had hoped, she found a saddled horse tethered near one of the headquarters tents. Leading it away, she quietly mounted and cantered off down the road. When she was certain she was out of earshot, she gave the horse his rein and began to tear along at a gallop. Fortunately the road was deserted at this hour, well after ten o'clock, and she rode on unhindered, following the road by the cold light of a three-quarter moon, the night breeze whipping her long blonde hair behind her.
After about an hour's ride, she was walking her horse to rest him when she became aware of a large body of men on a nearby road.
Lord Cornwallis' army!
"Who goes there!" a sentry cried, and with a yelp of fright Polly whipped her horse into a run. Muskets flashed and roared behind the girl, bullets whizzing around her head until she had galloped out of range. She rode hard from then on, nearly floundering her horse, until she came near the outskirts of Trenton, where she was challenged by American sentries.
"The British are coming . the British are coming!" she cried out, reining in her foam-flecked horse. "I've got to see General Washington!"
A suspicious soldier examined Polly's tired face and then went to fetch his officer. "What can it hurt?" the sleepy young lieutenant grumbled. "Take her to the General. He's seldom in bed at this hour anyway."
So Polly, still on her nearly dead horse, was led through the American camp to a large headquarters tent. She slipped from her horse's back, and still with fatigue was led in to see the General.
"What is this I hear about the British?" a deep melodious voice asked her.
Polly found herself facing a tall, powerfully-built man in a blue uniform coat faced with white, his gold general's epaulettes gleaming on his broad shoulders. Polly tried to answer, but found herself unable to speak, held silent by a pair of calm penetrating eyes that seemed to look right into her. Finally she found her voice.
"Lord Cornwallis is on his way with eight thousand men to trap you here in Trenton."
"When?"
"This very night."
"Where did you hear this?"
"From a British Colonel's wife."
"It might be a trick, General," an aide warned.
"Look at me, girl," Washington said. "What is your name?"
"Polly Rivers, your Excellency," Polly blurted out. The General studied her features keenly, his eyes calm but intent.
"I believe her," he finally said, then turned to an aide. "Hamilton, wake the men quietly and form them up for the march. Leave all camp fires burning, so the British will think we're still in Trenton. We're going to give Cornwallis a little surprise... March around behind him and teach him the dangers of night fighting."
Soon the headquarters tent was a scene of organized confusion, and in the center of it, the calm, unruffled figure of the commander in chief. Polly, resting in a chair at the back of the tent knew she was watching a leader of men.
"Would you like to ride with us, Miss Rivers?" the General asked her. "Perhaps you could lead us back over the way you've come." Gratefully Polly mounted a fresh horse provided for her, her saddle-sore buttocks smarting as they once again felt the pressure of leather. But she was happy to be riding back to where Adam was being held prisoner. If Lady Sandringham heard what she had done... Adam might be shot.
The American army set out, a ragged assembly of scarecrows marching through the snow, some with only bloody rags around their bare feet, but all armed and equipped for battle. The wheels of the artillery were muffled in sacking for silence, and the gunners held the trace chains in their hands so they wouldn't clank on the icy ground. A bright, cold, silent dawn found the American troops well behind the unsuspecting Cornwallis' lines, when a scout rode back with news that the rearguard of the British army was just ahead, about a mile outside Princeton. "We'll hit 'em here," General Washington said firmly. "Fight hard, boys... it's do or die!"
Polly chose this moment to slip away on her horse. She was afraid that once fighting started it might be impossible to rescue Adam. Quickly and as silently as possible she rode to the Sandringham's headquarters, tying her horse to a bush in the woods. All was quiet in the big house, and Polly stole carefully around to the rear. Although it was almost completely light, there was no one in sight. "Adam!" she whispered through the little barred window in the door of Adam's cell.
There was a moment's silence and then a rustling of straw. Suddenly Adam's face appeared out of the darkness of his cell.
"Polly!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Never mind," Polly replied. "General Washington's about to attack Princeton and we've got to get you out of there before the fighting starts."
"Did you bring a key?"
"No... I'll try to pry the bars loose from the window."
Polly managed to find a broken branch near the house, and using it as a prybar began to work on the iron bars covering the window. One gave with a loud screech. "Try to be more quiet," Adam hissed. But the next one came loose just as loudly. Suddenly a cold, amused feminine voice spoke from behind Polly'.
"See... I told you, Charles... the rats are trying to gnaw their way out of the trap."
Spinning around, Polly saw Lady Sandringham and the Colonel standing behind her, both in their nightclothes, pistols in their hands.
"Help them, Charles," Lady Sandringham said. "Unlock the door." Motioning with her pistol, she ordered Polly aside. "Stand out of the way, girl, or I'll put a bullet into your lovely little body."
Obediently the Colonel unlocked the cell door and Adam came blinking out into the light. "Now... in the house... all of you!" Lady Sandringham ordered.
"What are you going to do?" Polly forced herself to ask.
"I'm not sure yet," Lady Sandringham answered. "I'll have to think up something appropriate. I don't know how you got out of the house, but I'm very, very annoyed. And you're going to pay for that annoyance... both of you!"
"Oh, no... it wasn't Adam's fault... "
"Shut up!"
Polly fell silent, frightened by the cold menace in Lady Sandringham's voice. The little party went down a familiar hall until they were before the dark door Polly remembered so well. Lady Sandringham unlocked it and waved the other's inside. "Oh, no, not Adam too!" Polly pleaded, but fell silent under the lash of Lady Sandringham's cold fierce eyes.
"Perhaps I'd better leave," Colonel Sandringham said nervously, the first words he'd uttered.
"So soon?" his wife asked amusedly. "Don't you want the girl? If you'll remember, I offered her to you when I was finished with her. Well... now I'm finished with her."
The Colonel's watery eyes suddenly gleamed with interest. "You mean it, my dear?" he asked, looking lecherously at Polly.
"Do I ever jest about such things?" his wife replied. "Take her clothes off!"
"If you touch her, I'll... " Adam snarled, starting forward, but stopped when the Colonel's pistol barrel swung around to cover him. Lady Sandringham aimed her pistol directly at Polly's stomach. "If you anger me enough, I'll shoot her down like a dog!" she warned Adam, who stepped back, muttering.
Immediately, the Colonel began to strip off Polly's clothing, forcibly, carelessly tearing her dress. His avid eyes bulged appreciatively when he had bared her lush breasts, but when he stopped to fondle them, his wife spurred him on. "Come on, Charles," she said acidly. "Why settle for her tits when you can have all of the little twit?"
Polly felt totally humiliated as she was stripped naked by the panting Colonel while Adam looked helplessly on. Finally she was naked, trying to keep her hands crossed over her blonde cunt while the Colonel stared greedily at her nude beauty. "Now you, Charles," Lady Sandringham ordered, and after a moment's hesitation, the Colonel stripped off his nightgown, laying his pistol down where his hand could reach it easily. He had a straight, slender body, and Polly found herself thinking it might look attractive under other circumstances. He started toward her, but Lady Sandringham stopped him.
"No... lie down on the carpet... I have some interesting plans."
Obediently the Colonel lay on his back, his flaccid cock flopping down against one thin thigh. "Now, my dear," her Ladyship said sweetly to Polly. "I want you to get my husband's penis hard and then fuck yourself with it. Do you understand what will happen to this lumpish young lover of yours if you don't do as I say?"
Sickened, Polly knew that Adam would be shot down before her eyes if she didn't please their captors. Falling to her knees next to the Colonel, she listlessly began to fondle his penis, but nothing much happened.
"He has a little trouble getting an erection," Lady Sandringham said with a superior smile in her husband's direction. "I think you'll have to suck it."
Horrified, Polly started to refuse, but then remembered the situation. Bending down, she propped the Colonel's limp dick up with her fingers, and after a moment's mental preparation, sucked it's rubbery length up inside her mouth. Almost immediately the Colonel began to stir below her. "Ah, yes," he sighed. "Suck it hard... pull up on it... stretch it out!"
Bit by bit, the soft piece of flesh in Polly's mouth grew harder, lengthening and stiffening until she started to have trouble breathing around it. Once aroused, the Colonel had a truly formidable cock, not as big as Major Wyatt's huge cudgel, but big enough. Polly began to entertain thoughts of the fleshy staff up inside her already aroused cunt. It had been a long time since she'd been fucked by a man. If only Adam weren't here.
"Alright... it's big enough, Lady Sandringham ordered. "Now sit on it, you little bitch!"
With a despairing look in Adam's direction, Polly did as she was ordered, raising up her hips until her loins were poised right over the Colonel's upthrusting member. She herself had to fit the swollen tip up into her unprepared cunt, and then sink down slowly, grinding the swollen cock up into her vagina using the weight of her descending body. "Uuummmppphhhh," she grunted, as she felt her cunt being slowly opened up by the relentlessly skewering cock. Back in his corner, Adam was literally gnashing his teeth as he was forced to watch Polly being used like a whore by these two cold-eyed English nobles. Anguished, he watched the Colonel's bloated prick work its slow way up into his mistress's hair-lined vaginal opening, the slick channel he himself had grown to know so well. He automatically started forward, but Lady Sandringham put the muzzle of her pistol to Polly's head and looked meaningfully at Adam. He acquiesced and stepped back.
"Fuck me, for God's sake," the Colonel barked at Polly, reaching down and guiding her hips with his hands, trying to make her slide her tightly clasping little cunt up and down on his rigid shaft. Knowing she had no choice, Polly began to do as she was told, raising her nakedly rounded buttocks high, then slamming her pussy down on the Colonel's impaling member, hoping to make him cum and end it as soon as possible. But as usual, Polly had difficulty resisting a hardened cock once it was up inside her marvelously sensitive vagina, and in a few minutes, low moans of pleasure began to bubble from between her lust-tightened lips. She hated herself for acting like this in front of her lover, but she didn't seem to be able to help herself. Her belly was trembling with cock-hunger.
Suddenly there was the distant roar of battle, the rattle of musketry, followed by the roar of artillery. Lady Sandringham spun around, then saw the unconscious look of triumph on Polly's sex-flushed face.
"What is that sound?" Lady Sandringham asked.
"General Washington is attacking Princeton," Polly said defiantly.
"I don't know in what way," Lady Sandringham gritted out, "but somehow you're responsible for this." Her eyes grew large and dark. "You'll pay... Oh, but you'll pay!"
"My God!" the Colonel blurted out, starting to wriggle out from beneath Polly's nakedly pumping body. "I've got to be with my men!"
"Stay where you are!" his wife cried. "Your men have never needed you before... why now? And we've got to punish these two spies! You!" she said, motioning to Adam. "Take your clothes off and come over here!"
When Adam refused, a wave of her pistol won his obedience, and he quickly, nervously stripped off his clothes, and naked, came hesitantly forward. "Down on your knees behind this little whore's ass," she ordered. "You're going to fuck her where it really hurts!"
"You can't mean that!" Adam choked out, but Lady Sandringham's eyes were beginning to look so crazed that he thought he'd better not argue. "I'm sorry, Polly, he said to the frightened young blonde. "I'll have to do what she says."
Polly had heard Lady Sandringham's words with disbelief. Already impaled from below by the Colonel's warmly pulsating hardness, she wondered how there would be room up inside her for Adam's equally large organ. Blushing with humiliation, she felt Adam begin to fumble between her buttocks, searching out her anal opening.
Behind her, Adam parted the girl's lushly rounded ass-cheeks, until he had bared her fearfully puckering anus. How the hell am I supposed to get in there? he wondered. And with what? So far, his cock had remained soft, although he had been horrified to feel it lurch a little inside his breeches while he watched the Colonel fuck up into Polly from below. He looked down, just below Polly's anus, and saw the Colonel's big thick rod slowly skewering up into Polly's familiar little cunt, the veined shaft glistening with her inner juices. That sight alone was enough to cause his cock to grow, and pulling on it with one hand, lie was able to get it fully erect in seconds.
"Hang on, Polly," he told the girl, and then began to work his finger up into her tightly muscled anus, hoping to open it up enough so that his cock would fit up inside.
"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" Polly moaned in pain as she felt her virginal asshole being cruelly stretched. The sphincter muscles resisted bravely for a moment, then gave way as Adam's outstretched middle finger popped up inside the rubbery channel. Polly flinched forward, but was held in place by the Colonel, who was afraid of having his pleasure-washed cock slip from her hot clasping cunt. Normally a timid man, the Colonel found himself enjoying the opportunity to work his will on the helpless Polly and Adam, and appreciated his wife's stroke of genius in making Adam the instrument of Polly's chastisement.
Grunting with the effort, Adam swirled his finger around up inside Polly's backside until he felt her muscles begin to relax a little, then, when she was just becoming used to the presence of his finger, he pulled it roughly out and tried to replace it with his swollen cock.
"Aaaaaaagggggggggghhhhhhhhh!" Polly shrieked. "It hurts!" It felt to the horrified girl as if someone were trying to ram a red hot poker up her rectum. She shrieked and wriggled, trying to worm away from the agony in her bowels, but it was no use. Both Adam and the Colonel held her firmly in place.
Hating to hurt Polly but knowing he had to do it if they were both to survive, Adam watched the bloated tip of his sodomizing cock work slowly up into Polly's vainly resisting anus. The taut flesh stretched and stretched, and then he was up inside, the whole long length of his penis gliding smoothly into her tightly clasping rectal channel.
"Uuuuuuhhhhhhgggggg," Polly grunted, too awash with pain and shame to move. With the Colonel's thick pulsating hardness in her vagina and Adam's rigid prick up inside her rectum, it seemed to the stunned young woman that she was stuffed too full of male organs to move. However, once Adam's hotly throbbing cudgel had made its forcible entry, the pain quickly diminished, leaving her lying forward, pinned to the Colonel's narrow chest with his surprisingly strong arms holding her down and his shaft pinioning her from below, while Adam began to rock into her from behind, his stone-hard cock sliding relentlessly in and out of her rectum.
Fortunately, the two men fucking into Polly's helpless body were able to set up a shared rhythm, so that their penises were working in synchronization, both bloated shafts gliding in and out of her belly together. And once again it began to feel good to the panting young blonde. Never before in her life had she been so filled, and after the tortures she had been put through by Lady Sandringham, Polly found herself experiencing a perverse pleasure in being so thoroughly used by the two gasping, groaning men.
She began to fuck back, automatically ramming her hips against the two impaling cocks, feeling herself fill and empty, fill and empty. They're going to make me cum! she realized.
Lady Sandringham was also becoming excited. What she had intended as a humiliating punishment was fast becoming an erotic spectacle. Her breathing quickened as she avidly watched the two thick pricks fucking in and out of the young girl's tight little openings. Lifting her dress, she began to drum her clitoris with one finger, the others digging through the soft wetness of her thoroughly aroused cunt. She fell to her knees, her eyes locked on the lewdly fucking trio before her, her limbs going weak the more excited she became. The pistol barrel trailed to the floor, nearly falling from her suddenly nerveless fingers.
Only a couple of feet away, Adam watched that pistol intently, as intently as he could while fucking into Polly's marvelously tight asshole. Despite himself, he was incredibly excited, additionally stimulated by feeling the Colonel's cock, separated from him up inside Polly's body by only a thin membrane, gliding past his own, making the girl's already stuffed insides tighter still. He was considering reaching for Lady Sandringham's pistol when he felt the Colonel's big penis begin to twitch and shudder next to his.
"Oh God... I'm going to cum!" the Colonel muttered, his hands balling into fists. A moment later, Adam could actually sense the first contraction that started to spout semen up into Polly's restlessly churning cunt. This obscene realization touched off his own orgasm, and with a choked cry, Adam threw back his head and began to pump his own hot sperm up into Polly's convulsing asshole.
Sandwiched between the two climaxing men, Polly felt her insides being flooded with their hot cum, quickly bringing her to the boiling point. Her buttocks jammed down hard, trapping these two sperm-jetting organs, driving them as far up inside her belly as she could.
"AAAAIIIIEEEEE!" she wailed as a mammoth orgasm ripped through her cum- drenched insides. Thick streams of semen shot back out her pussy and asshole as her belly convulsed inside, clamping down hard on those two wonderfully ejaculating pricks, The moaning girl wantonly writhed and twisted between the two men, her naked breasts straining against the Colonel's chest, her teeth locked painfully on his nearest ear.
Adam was the first to recover. Glancing over at Lady Sandringham, he saw that she, too, was locked in the grip of a powerful self-induced orgasm. Her nightdress had been pulled high, baring her red-furred cunt, giving him a glimpse of her finger fucking madly in and out of her vaginal opening. The woman's eyes were tightly shut as she rocked back and forth on her feels, a stream of moans and whimpers escaping from between her tightly clenched teeth.
And best of all, she had dropped the pistol.
Wrenching free of Polly's still-twitching body, Adam reached out and scooped up the gun. And when the Colonel, seeing what he had done, reached high above his head to retrieve his own weapon, Adam menaced him with the huge muzzle. The Colonel froze, and Adam darted forward, now with two pistols.
"On your feet, both of you!" he ordered. Lady Sandringham's eyes flew open.
"Why... you puppy!" she snarled, starting forward.
"I'd shoot you happily, your Ladyship," Adam said threateningly. "Now go over by the wall and lie down on your stomach!"
When Lady Sandringham and Sir Charles had grudgingly complied, Adam ordered Polly to dress. Still shaken by her orgasm, the girl nevertheless managed to scramble into her clothes. Then Adam dressed, never taking his eyes off his two prisoners. Then he had the Sandringham's dress.
"Outside!" he ordered. Cautiously he opened the door. The house was silent, but in the distance the sounds of battle still raged.
"You'll never get away with this," Lady Sandringham snarled.
"We'll see," Adam said grimly. "If we don't, you'll be the first to get a bullet," Lady Sandringham paled. The fierce light in Adam's eyes told her he meant it.
Fortunately, the standing orders she had given her retainers that they were never to disturb her, whatever the circumstances, came to Adam and Polly's aid. There was no one around when they came out of the house, all the guards having rushed off toward the fighting. "This way," Polly urged Adam, and headed for the little house where she had been imprisoned. Luckily, when the guard had left he had hung the key ring on a nail next to the door and Polly quickly opened it. The first one out was Eliza.
"What's happening?" she asked Polly. "You must have made it to Trenton!" Then she saw the Sandringham's, and her eyes narrowed with hatred. "Give me that pistol," she said to Adam. "I'm going to kill this bitch!"
Lady Sandringham paled, but she held her ground, obviously contemptuous of her captors.
"No... we'll take the Colonel and his lady to General Washington. They might be useful to him."
With a laughing, dancing circle of women about him, Adam shepherded the Sandringhams toward the sound of fighting. After less than half a mile they came to the first American troops.
"Where's General Washington?" Polly asked. "We have some important prisoners for him."
"He'll be too busy for them now," a soldier said. "There's some hard fighting down the road. You shouldn't go up there!"
But the little group pushed on, so happy to be out of their confinement that the battle seemed an exhilaration to them. Adam had given Polly one of the pistols and she kept it trained uncertainly on the prisoners. Soon they came to the fighting. The main body of the Americans was being attacked by British regulars. They came on in their familiar solid line, rank after scarlet rank, bayonets gleaming. Standing on a little knoll about a hundred yards away, Polly and Adam saw the American line waver, then panic spread and the Americans began to break and run.
"That rabble never was able to stand up to good British troops," Lady Sandringham said scornfully. "They'll be completely routed... give me those pistols and I'll see that you're treated decently."
"Never!" Adam said defiantly. Then he pointed across to the fighting. "Look... look!" he cried.
A tall man on a huge white horse was charging into the thick of the bullets and bayonets, rallying the Americans. "It's General Washington!" Polly cried out in horror, expecting to see him shot down at any moment. But Washington remained in the saddle, a tall, martial figure, rushing from one knot of disorganized men to another, urging them to stand firm. Inspired by his example they rallied, and checked the British advance. Then American cannon were being rushed to the front, and under their terrible bombardment it was the turn of the British to turn and run. Washington galloped back from the fighting toward the knoll Adam and the girls were on, apparently to get a better view of the battle. When he got close enough Polly could see that his eyes were sparkling and alive.
"It's a fine fox chase, Miss Rivers," he told Polly when he sighted her with the others. "And we owe it all to you!"
He rode up to Adam and Polly, his staff clustering around him. "And what have we here?" he asked when he spied Colonel Sandringham and his wife."
"Prisoners," Polly said breathlessly. "Adam... my fiancee, captured them at their headquarters, your Excellency."
Washington rode up closer. "A colonel, by gad," he exclaimed. "Good work, my boy." Adam flushed with pleasure, glad to be singled out for praise by his commander-in- chief, For a moment no one was paying much attention to the prisoners, the officers around Washington ogling Eliza and the other women, some of whom were very lightly dressed. Lady Sandringham made a sudden move forward, snatching a heavy horse-pistol from an officer's belt. She leveled it at General Washington, her face twisted with hate.
"Now, you rotten rebel... " she shrieked, slowly pulling back the heavy hammer. Adam made a lunge toward the maddened woman, but he stumbled and fell. Everyone else was too stunned to move, staring at the pistol barrel as it tracked around full on the General's broad chest. Everyone but Eliza, who suddenly grabbed Polly's pistol. Polly watched the hammer go back, and then fall, so slowly. There was a flash and a roar, a dense cloud of smoke, and Lady Sandringham was flung violently aside by the impact of the heavy bullet, her pistol going off too, but the bullet passing harmlessly over Washington's head.
He hadn't moved a muscle, but remained sitting calmly on his horse until it was all over. He cast a reproving eye over his stunned staff. "I daresay all of us could take lessons from the ladies," he said calmly, and turning his horse around, started out toward the fighting. But just then a mud-spattered officer came riding up. He looked familiar to Polly and Adam.
"We've got the last of the British trapped in Nassau Hall, General," he yelled. It was Major Wyatt. His quick eyes took in the tense group around the General, the dead woman on the ground. Then he spied Adam and Polly.
"By God!" he roared. "It's Thatcher and that whore of his!" he called. "Arrest them, you men there! They're traitor's and deserters!"
"Traitors and deserters?" General Washington said mildly. "I consider them patriots and heroes, Major. I trust your opinion will come to match mine!" And with a flick of his reins, he led his staff away, toward the last of the British. Major Wyatt hesitated, casting a surprised look in Adam and Polly's direction. Then he too galloped off, leaving the little group alone. Two soldiers came and led off the stunned Colonel Sandringham. He looked back once at the still body of his wife, and for a moment Polly thought she saw relief in his eyes.
All that were left was Adam and Polly and the women. Eliza stood glaring down at Lady Sandringham's body, looking as if she wished she could shoot her again, the pistol still in her hand, a slow trickle of smoke rising from the muzzle. Polly moved close to Adam and felt his strong arms circle around her.
"Have we really won?" she asked him wonderingly.
"For the moment," he replied. And then he looked out over the smoking battlefield, at the piles of corpses. "But it's going to be a long war... we've got to be ready for that."
Polly looked all around her, at the new resolution in the eyes of the ragged American troops as they realized they had beaten the British twice in a row. Looking toward the town she saw Washington's tall figure in the middle of his staff.