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don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Sherman Was Right
by Old Bill (address withheld)

***

Late in the Civil War a woman and her lovely niece are 
arrested as spies and then tortured and abused. (M+/F, 
nc, rp, 1st, oral, anal, tor, historic)

***

War Is Indeed Hell

"We're almost home," Melissa sighed to her niece. 
"Won't it be fine to have a nice warm bath? It's so 
dusty." It was early July 1864 and it had not rained in 
the Washington area for almost a month.

The girl beside her stretched her lithe, young body. 
"I've been dreaming," she said, "dreaming of Paul. It 
was so wonderful, seeing him in his uniform." She 
squeezed at her young breasts with her upper arms, 
almost popping them out of her square-cut bodice. 

"For shame," said the woman with a smile, "girls your 
age should not have such thoughts. I'm ashamed of you." 
She patted the youngster's firm thigh.

"Oh poo and bother," said the girl, a ripe fifteen-
year-old wearing her best traveling dress even though 
she had almost outgrown it; the top now stretched 
tightly between her jutting nipples where the buttons 
were really straining. Her mother had added a bit of 
lace to cover the youngster's bulging cleavage but 
nothing could conceal her erect nipples, excited by her 
day-dreaming.

The liveried driver pulled the team to a halt at the 
Virginia end of the Long Bridge, and a blue uniformed 
lieutenant stepped up, saluted and asked, "May I see 
your passes, ladies?" He smiled at the woman and 
grinned at the girl, licking his lips unconsciously for 
she was, indeed, a tasty morsel just as his mind had 
concluded, ripe for plucking. 

He tried to stop thinking about eating her, about 
spreading her legs and dipping his tongue into her 
young honey pot and listening to her scream. His cock 
seemed always eager these days after his sojourns into 
Hooker's Division.

Melissa handed over the folded papers and sat back 
while Annalee leaned forward and watched the slim 
officer stride to the guard shack, nearly spilling her 
creamy breasts out the window. "Isn't he handsome?" she 
said with a smile, feeing a shiver of attraction, a 
very recent phenomenon but now quite common. She felt 
her tiny nipples quivered, and she wished she could rub 
herself in that special place.

"He's a Yankee, girl. Mind your manners," said her 
aunt. "But you are right. He has a fine mustache."

The lieutenant returned and opened the carriage door. 
"Get down, please," he said rather peremptorily. The 
women stepped to the rutted ground and arranged their 
huge skirts as several soldiers watched, amused. The 
girl tossed back her long, dark hair and looked around, 
shoulders back, chest forward, soft melons jiggling. 

On the bridge there were a number of soldiers with long 
rifles on their shoulders, rifles carrying spike 
bayonets, weapons as tall as the men who carried them. 
She shivered and looked at the young officer, an enemy 
despite his good looks, and she smiled and wondered if 
he were married. She wondered what it was like to be 
married, to have a man every night. She unconsciously 
squeezed her thighs together.

"You are Mrs. Richard Wright, are you?" he said to her 
aunt, lifting an eyebrow under the low brim of his 
kepi. 

Melissa nodded. "I am. Isn't my pass in order?"

"It may be," he said. "And you are Miss LeGrande, Anna 
LeGrande?"

"Annalee," said the girl, tossing her head and pouting 
her soft lips. "If you please." She was flirting and 
knew it, the day's only excitement so far, but she was 
sure there would be more tonight when her aunt 
entertained. There were always men to tease and amuse.

"Mrs. Wright, I fear you are on my list, and the list 
says that whoever accompanies you is also to be 
detained. You are suspected of treason, madam, with 
aiding and abetting the enemy."

Melissa Wright, took a step back and put her gloved 
fingers to her mouth, looking shocked which she was not 
and angry which she was. "Ridiculous, sir, absolutely 
ridiculous. I have people, kith and kin, on both sides 
in this awful war. I've made this trip to Richmond and 
back a score of times. You must be mistaken." Worry 
wrinkled her forehead and stirred her blood.

"Perhaps," he said, eying the girl, thinking of what he 
would like to do to her, with her, on her, in her, "but 
your name is on the list, madam. You are under arrest, 
both of you. Is the driver your man?" The baggage was 
being handed down from the roof, opened and searched.

"No, a hireling," she said. "A teamster."

The officer made the driver turn about and head south.

"Wait!" Melissa cried, "He hasn't been paid." She 
rummaged in her copious reticule, found the envelope 
and handed it to the officer. "Take care of it, please, 
sir." Her heart was beating rapidly, and she could feel 
sweat trickling down her back.

He looked in the brown envelope, saw the folded 
Confederate bills and had them given to the driver who 
then waved and went on his way, carrying not only his 
pay but a message to the Rebel spy service. Melissa 
sighed with relief as the futile search was concluded.

An open rig appeared with a military driver and armed 
guard, and the officer offered his hand to help the 
ladies up as their cases were loaded aboard. "Give me 
your word," he said, "and I will not tie your hands and 
feet." He watched the young girl's breasts bobble 
beneath her watered silk and licked his lips as her 
sweet smell reached him.

Melissa snorted. "This is all a mistake. We will not 
try to escape. We want justice." She lifted her chin 
and snorted, showing her disdain and hoping no one 
could hear her heart thumping.

The officer waved them on and the high-wheeled landau 
rattled across the busy bridge and into the Capital. 
Melissa tried to comfort the frightened girl, and they 
were soon at the Old Capitol Prison, a big brick square 
with high, small windows built after the British burned 
the Capitol in 1814. The guard got down and offered the 
ladies a hand, Annalee accepted but Melissa ignored his 
offer. 

They were led into the building and turned over to a 
captain with a bushy beard who looked over their 
passes. He took them down a long corridor and into a 
Spartan office, pulled up a couple of wooden chairs in 
front of a bare desk and asked them to sit. "Colonel 
Materson will be with you directly."

"This is all a mistake," Melissa said.

"Yes, I'm sure," said the smirking captain and he left. 
They heard the lock being thrown behind them and looked 
at each other.

"How did they find out?" asked the girl in a stage 
whisper as she sat and arranged her wide skirt.

"Shush," said Melissa. "You know nothing so say 
nothing."

"But, but, those papers and the money in my dress . . 
."

"Be quiet, girl, and sit up straight," said Melissa 
crossly as a big man in uniform and a middle-aged woman 
who was obviously some sort of nurse entered the room. 
She was wearing a white apron and a stern look, a large 
pair of scissors in her pocket.

"Stand," said the officer gruffly. "Stand up, be quick, 
women, both of you. Up, up." He smacked the desk with 
his short whip.

"It is some sort of mistake, sir. I want to see the 
person in charge," said Melissa, getting to her feet.

"You are looking at him, madam. Take off your clothes, 
both of you. Put your tops and skirts on the table over 
there. Move!" he said loudly. "Right down to the skin, 
if you please. You want your clothes cut off? Give me 
your purse, woman."

"We will do no such thing," said Melissa hearing the 
girl beside her sob. She handed over her bulging bag by 
tossing it onto the desk, then lifted her chin and 
stood rigidly.

"Strip them," the colonel said to the woman beside him.

The girl started unbuttoning her tight front while the 
older woman turned her back and let the jail matron 
undo the hook fasteners. Both doffed their bodices, 
stepped out of their wide skirts and petticoats and 
stood before the officer seated at his desk, his hands 
clasped before him, they stood in just their shifts, 
stays and long, frilly drawers, thin stockings and 
stylish shoes. 

He made a wry face and took a deep breath, scratching 
at his chin whiskers, eager to get the girl alone, get 
her flat on his desk, begging him, arched under him, 
legs spread widely, his mouth on her big breasts, his 
brutal horn probing deeply.

"Sit down, girl," the officer said. "Strip, woman, damn 
it," he ordered Melissa, "to the skin, damn you. You 
heard me." He slapped the table with the short quirt he 
carried, a whip he enjoyed using on women particularly. 
He thought of the fine marks it would make on the 
girl's pale skin, on her bulging melons, and took a 
deep breath, repressing a smile.

"No, no," she cried. "It's illegal, inhuman. I won't do 
it."

The heavy-set nurse tore Melissa's shift from her, 
ripping one shoulder strap loose, produced her scissors 
and cut the strings of her long corset which fell to 
the floor and then sliced through the waist band of the 
woman's frilly white underwear which slid down to bunch 
at her ankles baring her money belt, hairy groin and 
ample hips.

"Much better," said the colonel. "Search her. Hand me 
that belt."

"Spread your cheeks," said the nurse, probing at 
Melissa's anus. Finding nothing, she stepped in front 
of the shocked woman and stuck her middle finger up 
into her tight-lipped vagina, her eyes on the offended 
woman's face, a smile on her narrow lips.

"Ow, that hurts," the cringing woman cried as the 
matron hooked her finger within her.

"Found a string of some sort," the nurse said, stepping 
back and pulling the ivory rod from the grimacing 
woman's privates. The nurse laid it on the officer's 
desk, a glistening cylinder. He had, meanwhile, opened 
the money belt and found dozens of U.S. gold coins, 
several hundred dollars worth, mostly double eagles.

The colonel smiled at Melissa. "My, my," he said, "what 
have we here?" He unscrewed the top of the small 
container which was about the size and shape of a 
Spencer rifle round, not much bigger than his little 
finger. He shook out a rolled piece of thin paper, 
opened it, held it up to the light and smiled at 
Melissa. "Blank, how interesting. I'm sure we will find 
a way to read this. A list of names, is it?"

"That is my business," said the woman, standing there 
naked with her silk pantellettes about her feet and her 
assaulted labia throbbing, fright in her rapidly 
beating heart for the first time in years. She knew her 
friend Rose had spent some time in this building, her 
pleas ignored, and she had heard of Belle's adventures 
in this place, but she had never heard of anybody being 
forced to undress or of any women being so abused.

"Up," said the officer, gesturing at Annalee with his 
whip. "You may stand over there, woman, and take off 
your shoes and stockings. Girl, remove the rest of your 
clothes, all of them. Right now!" He smacked the table 
again with his short whip, a sharp sound like a shot. 
The girl jumped, her breasts bobbling freely in her 
lace trimmed shift. The officer smiled and licked his 
lips, feeling himself aroused, eager to see those 
jutting tits.

Annalee grimaced, sat, took off her shoes, untied her 
garters and pulled off her stockings and then her linen 
pantaloons. She stood, forced herself not to think of 
what was happening, unlaced her small, waist-nipping 
corset and removed it and then pulled her shift over 
her head and dropped both to the floor. She shivered 
and exhaled, closing her eyes, hoping it was a bad 
dream. No man had ever seen her naked, not even her 
family's doctor. She felt her nipples erecting and bit 
her lip.

Unbidden, the colonel's cock shivered and hardened. The 
girl was a ripening adolescent, a healthy young woman 
with a fine pair of high breasts, her nipples like tiny 
rose buds, a small waist and a narrow row of curly fur 
between her legs. Her thighs were perhaps a bit heavy 
and there was still a suggestion of softness in her 
charming face. 

She was, perhaps, not beautiful, but like most young 
women, very lovely, exciting to look at and think 
about, a temptation, a succubus. The colonel decided he 
would find a way to have her, to enjoy her, to bounce 
on the puff of her belly, to probe her rounded ass, to 
twist those tiny nips. His palms itched to feel her 
soft skin. The woman quickly searched her orifices and 
shook her head.

"Give me her corset," the officer said. "One so young 
should not wear such a stupid thing. He crushed it, 
felt it, poked at it and then took the nurse's scissors 
and cut open the thin wrapper of flowered linen. Out 
tumbled Federal currency, hundred dollar bills, a 
cascade of them. The colonel gathered them up, 
carefully counted them and then looked up at the girl. 
"Two thousand three hundred dollars. You are a rich 
young woman, aren't you?"

Annalee bit her lip, sniffed and looked at her aunt who 
stood with her hands at her groin, dark nipples 
drooping slightly, her lips a thin line.

"Let's see her skirt," said the officer. "Perhaps she 
has more surprises."

The officer quickly found the gold coins sewed into the 
hem and the papers in the wide bustle. They were soon 
piled on the table. "Have you any explanation?" he 
asked.

Annalee bit her lip and shook her head. A tear appeared 
on her left cheek.

"Take them down to room twelve," the colonel said. 
"I'll fetch Merton and the boys." He nearly laughed.

The nurse smiled at him and said, "This way, rebels."

Melissa and Annalee, heads bowed and hands at their 
privates, drew curious stares as they went down a long 
corridor, descended some stairs and were brought to a 
bare room with no windows.

Soon a half-dozen black soldiers in dusty blue uniforms 
entered and stood at parade rest on the far wall while 
the women cowered together in a corner and tried not to 
look at them, turned away to hide their nakedness. They 
were large men, all of them, and they were smiling and 
at ease having been promised a chance to enjoy some 
rebel flesh. The soldiers examined the two naked women, 
admired their rounded asses and chatted to each other, 
laughing at jibes and feeling their cocks' arousal. 
Then the colonel and another man in Army uniform came 
in followed by workmen carrying heavy, crude sawhorses.

"Ladies," said the colonel, "meet Captain Merton; he is 
charge of interrogation. He has questioned dozens of 
spies. Each and every one of them has not only 
confessed, they have been helpful, most helpful, eager 
to talk, to sign confessions." He smiled at Melissa and 
then licked his lips and looked at Annalee, impatient 
to have his time with her, to hear her cry under him, 
to plow her like a fallow field.

"In fact many begged to be helpful. Of course some lost 
a tooth or two in the process or perhaps a fingernail 
or some hair. Over there are members of the 10th 
Colored Regiment. They are on convalescent leave just 
now but ready to go back into the Petersburg trenches 
or to the Invalid Corps." He turned on his heel and 
left. The door closed silently.

The captain strode toward the women in the far corner 
of the room and stood before them, feet wide apart, 
hands in the small of his back. "What we want, woman," 
he said to Melissa, reaching out to poke her on the 
breastbone with a fingertip, "are the names of all 
those who report to you in this misbegotten town and 
the names of the people to whom you report wherever 
they are, whoever they are. Are you prepared to give us 
those names?"

"I don't know what you re talking about," Melissa said, 
her voice quavering.

The captain pointed at Annalee, smiled and reached to 
gasp her left nipple and stretch it out, turning her to 
face him. "Her first," he said and two black soldiers 
came, dragged the girl by her upper arms to one of the 
heavy sawhorses, ignored her cries and kicking feet, 
bent her over the wooden bar and then tied her wrists 
loosely to the splayed legs on one side with ropes that 
had been nailed to the wood and her ankles to the legs 
on the other so she was bent double, the heavy, four-
inch-wide plank right at her waist, head down, butt 
raised, feet a yard apart, hair brushing the floor.

"Fold up her dress and put it under her," the captain 
suggested. "It will make it easier on everybody." He 
laughed. "We don't want splinters."

One of the workmen lifted the squirming girl at the 
hips while the other stuffed her voluminous skirt 
beneath her, getting a good feel of both breasts as he 
did so, stroking out her hard nipples and then patting 
her buttocks. 

"Corporal," the captain said loudly, "are you and your 
men ready?"

The noncom smiled, and he and his small squad 
unbuttoned their britches and flopped out their 
swelling penises which rose in the split of their short 
jackets. The corporal's was already long and hard, 
quivering eagerly, standing well out before him, an 
ebony rod.

Melissa screamed, but Annalee, her hair dragging on the 
floor, could not see what awaited her. The soldiers 
stroked and fisted their fat members and all erected 
quickly, a phalanx of thick spears, all pointed at the 
same 15-year-old like artillery pieces.

Led by the corporal, the black soldiers then crossed 
the room and stood in a loose file behind Annalee, 
thick cocks in hand. The smiling corporal smacked her 
white buttocks with his swelling prick, pulled down the 
ebony foreskin to reveal the purple head and set it at 
the girl's trembling nether lips after rubbing it up 
and down her narrow slot. He looked at the captain who 
nodded, and shoved his stiff ram into the soft girl, 
grunting with effort until it suddenly penetrated her 
dry and virginal opening.

She screamed and fainted, slumping on the heavy board 
at her middle, knees bent.

"Pull it out," said the captain, and the corporal put 
his hands on Annalee's backside and, with some effort, 
withdrew his rigid ram which jumped up as if on steel 
springs. Its dark head was bloody.

The captain looked at Melissa while one of the men who 
had brought in the sawhorses produced a small bucket of 
water and poured it over the head of the unconscious 
girl, drenching her long hair. "Ready to answer my 
questions?" he said evenly to the shocked woman who had 
just watched her favorite niece being deflowered, 
ruined by a man who still stood beside her, his huge 
manhood dripping with her blood, a wide smile on his 
black face.

"Beast," said Melissa. "How could you? Look! The poor 
child was a virgin."

"Pity, might a'done it myself had I known. Don' get 
many of them in here." He chuckled. "She might be the 
first." He watched Annalee shake her head and heard her 
moan. "Go ahead, corporal," he said with a smile, 
trying not to look at the lean man's huge pike that now 
showed a slight, upward curve. It looked as thick as 
the girl's ankle, knotted with heavy veins.

The black noncom took his position behind the shivering 
white girl, smiled at his fellow soldiers, hoisted his 
heavy shaft and set its head once more at the now pink 
opening which oozed a trickle of blood. He smiled and 
pushed. The head popped in and Melissa squealed and 
raised her head. The soldier grasped the heavy board 
she was bent over and rammed his whole, long, hard cock 
into her with a grunt, his teeth clenched and knees 
bent. In it went, a half-foot of rigid gristle, until 
his scotum was hard against her young body, pressing at 
her, a globular mass the size of his fist. He exhaled 
and grinned, shivering with anticipation.

"Ahh," Annalee gasped as her vagina was torn open. "No, 
don't, please don't. It hurts. It hurts. It's too big." 
She writhed and shook under the corporal who wiggled 
his horn from side to side and smiled at his mates as 
he rogered her and stretched her, just moving his 
pelvis and hips, getting her ready for what was to 
come.

"Hah," said the corporal loudly, bending over her as he 
drew his manhood back a few inches, "Wait `till you 
feel Cob's thing, girl." He laughed, smacked her haunch 
and rammed back in to the hilt and then began fucking 
the girl, ignoring her gasps and pleas as he enjoyed 
himself, standing up very straight, arching his back 
and thrusting with every muscle, smacking her butt now 
and then, moving faster and still faster, up on his 
toes.

"Shall I let him empty his balls in her?" the captain 
asked Melissa who was watching in awe as her niece's 
body was shaken and lifted with each deep ram into her 
virginal recesses, rocking the sawhorse up on two legs.

She shook her head, unable to speak, nearly mesmerized 
by the thick black piston plunging into the young white 
body. The sawhorse moved on the cement floor, and 
Annalee tried to kick her bound feet, gasping and 
wailing, arching her back, her hands squeezed into 
fists.

"Corporal," the captain said loudly, "you may fire it 
into her mouth this time. Don't spew in her cunt, not 
yet."

He looked at the officer, not slowing his fucking for a 
moment, nodded and smiled, grunting with each long 
thrust, snorting for breath, smacking the girl's bottom 
until it glowed.

The black noncom suddenly pulled his stiff prick from 
Annalee's torn vagina, stepped in front of her and 
lifted her head by grabbing her long hair. As her neck 
was stretched, her mouth came open, and he filled it 
with the fat head of his spear just before he groaned 
and ejaculated, knees bent, eyes closed. His semen 
dripped from both corners of Annalee's mouth. 

By the time he came for the third time, the next man 
had stepped up and filled the girl's narrow sex passage 
with his long rod, a wide smile on his young face for 
he had not enjoyed a woman in more than six weeks. He 
was quickly plowing fast and hard, shaking the girl 
bent over the sawhorse and digging his fingers into her 
round ass as he snorted with effort. Her freshly 
violated vagina clung to his massive male member as he 
moved it in and out, and she sobbed out a cry with each 
deep penetration, a cry of despair and hurt. The man 
raping her laughed and smacked her buttocks loudly, 
lifting her with his thrusts.

Melissa sobbed, fell to her knees and begged, "Make 
them stop. They'll kill her. Please, please. No more."

"Ready to talk?" asked the captain, "to give me some 
names?"

Melissa shook her head and then watched in horror as 
the third black soldier, a man with what she judged a 
foot-long penis, a penis that look like a gnarled club, 
a tree limb, drove his huge manhood into the sobbing 
girl after supporting its massive heft with both hands. 
Annalee screamed and fainted again, completely limps, 
drooling.

"Damn Cob," said the corporal loudly, "you done killed 
another one. Shit, boy, ain't you got no sense. Half 
that thing's enough for any gal."

When a bucket of water did not revive the girl, she was 
left slumped over the sawhorse, knees splayed and head 
dangling, and Melissa was brought forward, bent and 
quickly tied over the other one, facing the unconscious 
girl. The man they called Cob, then smacked the older 
woman's legs with his immerse member and when it was 
once again rigid and arched upward, eased into 
Melissa's quivering passage after spitting on her ass. 

She felt herself being torn open and gasped, biting her 
lips until they bled as the smiling Cob pushed more and 
more of his massive prick into her, filling her vagina 
and then breaching her cervix with a cry of triumph and 
ramming into her uterus. She sobbed wordlessly, torn 
asunder, her mind unable to comprehend what was 
happening to her body as his massive scrotum pressed 
against her and his thick fingers dug into her 
buttocks.

Cob grinned at his mates. "I done it, boys, got it all 
in. Hot damn." He smacked her flank. "She some tight 
bitch."

Melissa's screech roused Annalee and quickly both women 
had black soldiers rutting them from behind, rocking 
their bruised bodies on the sawhorses and then filling 
them with the ropes of thick semen until it ran from 
their cunnies and mouths, slithering down their wide-
spread legs. Since Melissa had no dress under her 
middle, she soon was battered and bleeding from 
abrasions on her belly, thighs and ribs. 

When all the men had enjoyed both women, and the 
corporal had done the girl a second time, they were 
dismissed with the captain's thanks. He then had the 
women untied and dragged to the straight wooden chairs 
before his desk, trying to ignore what their groins 
looked like or what leaked from them. The older woman 
was a mass of raw bruises from torn breasts to battered 
mons, the younger one's big jugs were marked with red 
sores and scratches.

Each woman had been raped at least five times by men 
who had been chosen for the size of their cocks and 
their reputation as breeders when they had been slaves. 
Both had been forced to suck slimy pricks. Now they 
felt eviscerated, turned inside out, battered and 
bruised, both embarrassed and helpless, utterly 
violated and fearful.

"Mrs. Wright," said the captain, fingered the ivory 
cylinder, "are you ready to cooperate?'

Melissa shook her head. "Go to hell," she mumbled, 
still spitting out the spew in her mouth, the vile 
taste of the men who has used her.

"Rig the swing," the captain said to the two men who 
had brought in the sawhorses and the buckets of water.

"How old are you, girl?" he asked Annalee.

She shook her head and looked at the floor, unable to 
believe what had happened to her in the last hour. Her 
torn pussy would not stop rippling and oozing, burning 
and convulsing, the front of her thighs were sore from 
pressing the board and her breasts hurt from being 
pinched and mauled while she had a penis in her mouth, 
a spurting horn that bruised her soft pallet and filled 
her throat with thick spew.

"Annalee, I know you are hurt. Will you ask your aunt 
to save you more pain? Ask her to tell us what we must 
know." The captain lifted her chin and smiled at her, 
feeling his cock tremble. "In the end you will talk. 
Everyone does."

The girl shook her ahead, her hair in her face, tears 
streaming down her cheeks, both hands at her ravaged 
groin, sure she was going to die.

"Ready, sir," said the two workmen, civilians hired to 
do various jobs about the prison. Now a series of ropes 
ran from turnbolts on the wall through pulleys on the 
ceiling and ended at leather straps with buckles 
attached.

"Stay there, girl," the captain said to Annalee. 
"Come," he said to her aunt, taking the woman's arm and 
leading her to the rigging. He put leather bands on her 
wrists and ankles and then had her hoisted up, legs 
spayed, head hanging, stretched and open, heavy body 
sagging despite the strap about her middle. Then he 
brought the girl to stand nearby, her back to the wall. 

"Don't move, just watch," he told her poking her 
between the breasts as another file of black soldiers 
marched in, led, as had been the first group, by a 
corporal. This was a bigger group, a dozen men, two 
files of six, several of them wearing bandages. They 
all glanced at the women as the passed. Several showed 
their teeth and made crude gestures as they passed the 
nubile girl, grasping at the bulging groins.

"Ready?" the captain asked the noncom who smiled and 
saluted. "You may begin, first one from each column. 
Enjoy, men, enjoy!"

The corporal stepped between Melissa's long, splayed 
legs, grasped a rope, lifted her left leg almost 
straight up, spat on his hand and poised his big cock 
at her unused anus while the next man unlimbered his 
huge manhood and stood at her face, his big penis 
hanging limply at her nose, quivering and leaking 
pearly drops. When the corporal sodomized the woman 
with an upward thrust and she cried out, the other 
soldier filled her upside down mouth with his fat horn, 
his huge hands at her ears, moving her head to and fro, 
waving her hair from side to side in time with his 
thrusts.

"Suck, bitch," cried the soldier at Melissa's head. He 
slapped her breasts to encourage her as the corporal 
began fast and deep rams into the woman guts, lifting 
her high with each thrust upward, pulling on first one 
rope and then another to move her about, rock her from 
side to side on his tireless spear while his mate 
probed her throat. He grunted and smiled as sweat 
dotted his face.

"No, no, stop," cried Annalee, looking at her aunt's 
tortured body. "I'll tell you, tell you everything."

As the captain urged the girl toward his desk, the 
second man stepped between Melissa's legs, lowered her 
a bit and drove his stiff horn straight into her 
bruised vagina with a grunt of effort. She gasped 
despite getting the second cock in her mouth as she 
did, her back arched like a local bridge. The men 
started moving Melissa between them, smiling at each 
other as she swung, and they shuffled back and forth, 
hips in constant motion. The sound of moans, grunts and 
slapping flesh filled the small room.

"Yes," Annalee said, between gasps, trying not to hear 
what was happening behind her, "I admit it. We are 
spies, spies for the cause. My poor aunt is a spy. 
Please make them stop." Her aunt screamed again when 
the man in her mouth stepped back to ejaculate on her 
face.

"Do you know who her agents are, their names?"

The girl shook her head as her aunt squealed inhumanly 
when another man violated her anus, twisting her almost 
belly down in the ropes. The soldier at her face, 
yanked her hair and managed to slide his whole, long 
prick down her gullet, rising on his toes as her nose 
plowed into his balls and she choked and gasped, now 
twisted sideways at the waist. One of the black men 
cried out when he climaxed, a sob of relief and 
pleasure, as strings of smegma and semen dripped from 
the woman's shuddering body.

Annalee shook her head. "Only first names, two or three 
of them, men I've met." She bit her lip as her aunt 
squealed. "Oh, and some Union officers."

"Let her down," the captain yelled loudly. "Come and 
get a new piece of ass, some fresh meat for the 
grinder."

Annalee screamed and ran for the door.

Melissa was unbuckled and crawled away while the 
struggling girl was strapped into her place and raised 
from the floor, her legs and arms spread widely and her 
head hanging at just the right angle to have her lips 
used by an eager soldier in blue. He held her nose 
until she opened her mouth and then slid his long cock 
over her teeth and onto her tongue from the side.

"Suck," he demanded.

Huddled on the dirty floor, Melissa vomited as her 
niece gargled trying to scream with a big cock in her 
mouth. The battered woman rose on all fours and then 
crawled to the captain's desk while the first two men 
amused themselves with Annalee, teasing her with their 
hard cocks before raping her, pushing her back and 
forth between them, pawing her ripe body, pinching her 
breasts and buttocks, pulling her hair and swinging her 
about, poking in and out of her stretched orifices, her 
gaping mouth and battered cunny. Two tried her ass but 
found it too tight, too difficult, too small.

Melissa reached the captain's desk, pulled herself up 
on his knee, and sobbed, "Stop, stop, make them stop. 
They'll kill her."

"Soon," he said as the men got the girl moving back and 
forth between their huge, upright rods, jamming in and 
out like machines and swinging her from side to side as 
now a half-dozen men stood in a circle about the 
hanging girl and had fun at her expense, poking, 
pawing, smacking and fucking and pulling free to pass 
her on to the next man to play with and satisfy himself 
in. 

They all got their turn, jerking the girl's ripe body 
in the ropes, heaving and humping, laughing and crying 
out from time to time when they came as the youngster 
writhed between them. When she did not have a cock in 
her mouth, Annalee begged for mercy, for help, for the 
rapes to end, squealing for them to stop, begging, 
praying.

"Please," Melissa begged, after wiping her mouth with 
her hand, "make them stop."

"Ready to answer questions, to give names?" the captain 
asked, fingering his quirt, eager to use it on the girl 
if not the woman. He was well aroused, watching the 
youngster with two big blacks defiling her, bouncing 
her up and down.

Melissa nodded.

The captain looked up, saw that most of the soldiers 
were buttoning up while one continued to rut the limp 
girl hung by ropes and counter weights. "Thank you, 
men," he said loudly. "Well done." The final 
infantryman pulled out of the shuddering girl and bent 
to give her narrow furrow a nip. She squealed and 
shook, her upside down face smeared with rows and gobs 
of semen which dripped into her hair.

The two workmen lowered Annalee's battered body to the 
cement floor, unbuckled her and threw a bucket of water 
on her while her aunt managed to pull herself up and 
sit on a chair, trying not to look at the bite and 
pinch marks on her breasts or the raw scrapes on her 
ribs and pelvis. Her pulsing groin seemed to be on 
fire.

The captain opened a folder. "Who is the leader, the 
main Confederate agent in Washington?" he asked. He 
knew the answer, had known it for months. The 
Pinkertons had the man under 24-hour watch, were 
reading his mail and his telegrams.

Melissa licked her lips, took a deep breath and 
invented a name. "Dr. Marcus, Philip Marcus, his office 
is on K Street."

The captain wrote, sighed and then looked up. "And 
number two, his second in command?" This was going to 
take at least another day.

"I'm not sure. Jamison I think, Alexander Jamison, an 
attorney. He's usually found at his hotel, the 
Colorado."

Annalee was still on the floor in the middle of the 
room, softly crying in a puddle of water, her back 
shaking, aware that she was no longer a virgin, aware 
that she had been used by many big men, big black men. 
Ruined was the word in her mind, completely ruined. The 
two workmen stood nearby and the captain looked up and 
nodded. They got the girl to her feet and led her out, 
stumbling between them, both of them fully aroused by 
what they had witnessed, eager to have their turn.

While Melissa went on giving names of nonexistent 
people and making up stories about paymasters and 
meeting places, the two handymen dragged Annalee to 
their small office and workshop, tossed her on their 
old settee and dropped their britches. They took her 
one at a time, mounting between her long legs, her 
raised and widespread knees, and spent themselves in 
her, rutting atop her and grunting with pleasure as 
they urged each other on, gnawing her tits as they 
fucked her, and she begged them to stop. 

They made her suck them hard again and then forced her 
to mount one man on the small sofa while the other used 
her mouth and throat. She gasped and screeched as they 
moved in concert within her and satisfied themselves 
thoroughly again, both men mauling her breasts as they 
did so. Then they dragged the weeping girl back to room 
twelve and dumped her by the captain's desk where 
Melissa sat, head in hands, fear in her heart, 
wondering if they would hang her.

The captain gave Annalee back her lacy shift and found 
Melissa's torn garment and tossed it to her. "I'm going 
to put you in a cell together and get you some food." 
The captain stood before them, looking grim, knowing 
that tomorrow they both would feel the lash. "Then I am 
going to check on some of these names." He smiled, sure 
many were false, perhaps all of them. "If you have been 
lying to me, you'll be put in the pen, just you two and 
perhaps a score of men who have not seen a woman for 
weeks, perhaps months, the local scum, deserters and 
the like. Understand? You'll spend the night with 
them."

Melissa nodded. "Can you get a doctor to see to her 
wounds?" The girl was mewling and weeping beside her.

"Perhaps tomorrow," said the captain. Then he raised 
his voice and soon two guards came and took the women 
away. As they were being led to the cells in the 
basement, Colonel Materson appeared in the hallway, 
grasped Annalee's arm and told the soldiers to proceed. 
He dragged the girl into his office, bent her over his 
desk, tossed her thin shift up on her back and stood 
admiring her rounded buttocks and ignoring the slime 
that oozed from her cunny as he shook out his eager 
penis, his other hand on the small of her back.

He patted her butt as his cock rose, spread her ass 
cheeks and discovered that she had not been sodomized. 
Smiling, he left her there, begging and sobbing, found 
the small can of oil he used on his saddle and boots, 
poured some in the girl's ass crack and on his cock 
head and then pushed it into her small anus. Her 
muscles resisted and she moaned and arched, feeling the 
pressure, but then her anal ring yielded, and he drove 
his shaft into her with a yip of success, all the way 
into her, right to the balls. He sighed with pleasure, 
proud of his strength, his ability to violate a 15-
year-old's virginity.

Annalee screamed and fainted for the third time that 
day. The colonel ignored her unconscious state and 
enjoyed himself thoroughly; pulsing out several ropes 
of his spew into her before pulling free and letting 
her lush body slide to the floor. He knelt at her head, 
wiped his cock with her long hair, slapped her face 
until she revived and then pushed his slimy, half-hard 
prick into her mouth. He grasped his quirt, eager to 
encourage her cocksucking.

"Suck, girl," he demanded, smacking her flank with his 
whip. Annalee's eyes got very big, and she gagged on 
the monstrous thing in her throat. She turned her head 
aside, spit out his cock and tried to crawl away. The 
captain grabbed her ankle, pulled her back to him and 
drove his swelling member into her ravaged vagina. It 
hardened as he rammed it in and out of her squishy 
channel, and he smiled above her as he got a good 
rhythm going, enjoying the wet smacking sounds he was 
making in her, moving at marching pace, 120 a minute, 
counting cadence in his head, going deep, grasping his 
throbbing balls with one hand and the girl's left 
breast with the other.

Annalee kicked her feet and begged him to stop, beating 
at him with her small fists.

"Only if you'll suck me clean," He demanded with a 
smile, holding the girl at the waist and pressing his 
booted toes against this desk, thrusting again and 
again, lifting her butt from the floor.

She nodded and he pulled his rigid tool out of her and 
sat on the front of his desk, breathing hard, legs wide 
apart, a smile on his face, quirt dangling from his 
wrist as he got his breath back. The girl crawled to 
him, got up on her knees, grasped his dangling male 
member with both hands and yanked it as hard as she 
could, twisting for good measure.

The colonel screamed, backhanded her, hit her several 
times with his short whip, put his sore penis away and 
buttoned his britches. He called for his orderly and 
told him that the girl was to be put in the holding pen 
for the night.

The young soldier pulled the sobbing Annalee to her 
feet, smiled and saluted and took her, stumbling and 
moaning, her mouth bloody, one eye swelling closed, 
whip marks on her thighs, down to the guard room where 
he shared her with his friends for an hour or so before 
she was tossed into the pen with that day's intake of 
criminals and deserters, drunks and thieves, rapists 
and robbers. There were seventeen men in that big, 
steel-barred cage which measured about twenty feet on a 
side, seventeen men and a naked, fifteen-year-old girl. 
After a while she stopped screaming.

The war went on.

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 58