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The Georgia Peach II - All is Fair
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
So many fine images today!
I really appreciated this tender moment between them.
Sounds more like what a slave would say than an overseer. But it needed to be said, no matter what.
Please, Fossy, more!
Aren't we all!!
No! Take it like a sexy girl!
Uh oh!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Chapter 37 – The Whipping Post, White Orchard Plantation, 10:45am May 18th 1864
Catherine just stared. She had been stripped, humiliated, whipped mercilessly before her own slaves, interrogated, punched and then raped. She had seen her house set on fire and even now, on the near horizon, the flames billowed out of every window. Words failed her completely and then so did her consciousness as she collapsed into darkness.
When she came to her head was cradled in the lap of her saviour. Looking up through barely open eyes Catherine smiled a weak smile into William’s concerned face.
“Catherine, thank the good Lord, you have woken.”
“William? How? What?” Still eloquence failed the poor girl.
“Shhhh, just rest.”
“But tell me how …”
William grinned. “I have been pistol whipped by better than Tom Shepherd. I came round just as smoke was coming under the door, which he had closed behind you both. A smashed window and a leap into the hay had me free. The bastard wanted me to suffer, to die in the smoke and flames, but he should have killed me!”
Catherine smiled a slightly stronger smile this time. “I am sure grateful that he did not.” She craned her neck a little as he leaned down and they shared a chaste kiss.
“You know what he did to me?” She said, the humiliation and hurt obvious in her intonation.
“Shhh, I do not need to know. He is dead, that is all that matters now.”
Catherine smiled a grateful smile up at him.
“Now rest while I go find clothes for you from the slave huts. They are all that are left.”
The girl nodded. “That’s okay William, find what you can, please.”
Shepherd nodded his agreement. He would be as quick as he could, and then they would leave.
Chapter 38 – The road North away from White Orchard 2pm May 18th 1864
“Catherine. It’s time to get up.” William gingerly nudged the sleeping form with the toe of his boot. He could make little sense of where her body lay under the thick wrappings of blanket, and he hoped he had not inadvertently poked a sensitive area with his unsubtle alarm call.
“Catherine.” He spoke again, raising his voice to make sure it penetrated the cloth that swaddled her head. To his satisfaction he saw her start to stir, and almost certain that she would heed his call to rise, he returned to the fire that he had tended during the long, lonely hours of the night.
He had found clothes for her. A tattered skirt and a ripped shirt, both from slaves that had now departed. The house was still burning when they rode away. She had lost everything … everything but him.
They had ridden through the midday sun, then on throughout the long, hot day until after night had fallen. He had seen Catherine swaying in the saddle, her exhaustion obvious. As much as he would have liked to keep going, he had sensed that she was at the end of her strength. They had unsaddled the horses, and created a meagre sanctuary on a lonely, windswept hillside, sheltering as best they could amongst a group of large boulders.
He picked up a stick and stabbed the fire back into life. It had been a tedious night. He had chosen to sit and keep watch despite his tiredness and the distance they had covered, he remained anxious that they would be discovered by Sherman’s Army. The anxiety had gnawed at him but he did his best to keep it contained, forcing himself to sit still whilst Catherine slept.
She would need her full strength should they be forced to avoid any persistent pursuit during the coming day. He kept his eyes low, concentrating on the flickering flames that danced into life in front of him. He craved a decent drink, sorely missing the reviving effects of a strong coffee or a sharp whisky.
He walked over to the horse they had taken for Catherine, so that he could search through the saddlebags. But there was nothing.
The image of General Sherman hearing the news of Catherine’s escape crept into William’s mind – was she really his Goddaughter? It was a notion to savour, and he found himself chuckling softly as he pictured the rage on the General’s face that must have surely followed.
“And what is amusing you this morning?” Catherine crawled gingerly from her place to sit in front of the fire, still swaddled in the thick blanket that had kept her warm through the chill hours of the night.
“General Sherman. I was imagining how he must have reacted when he discovered you were gone.” William gave up his search, for anything to drink other than the water supplies they had taken from the slave well back at the conflagration which used to be White Orchard. He walked back to the warmth of the fire.
“Poor Uncle Billy.’ Catherine looked wistful as she carefully took a seat next to William.
“Poor Uncle Billy my ass,” He turned to look at the lovely girl beside him. “You must surely hate him with a passion Catherine, after everything he let happen to you?”
“I do, and every last one of his damnable Army!” She relished the statement, her satisfaction at Sherman’s perceived distress obvious. William looked hard at the young girl sitting opposite him. He could only marvel at her spirit.
She had lost her parents, her home, her innocence, and in such a brutal manner, and now gambled her future and potentially her life on a wild adventure with only an outlawed guerrilla for a companion. Yet she did not seem the least bit perturbed at her actions; even a night spent with only rocks for a bed had done nothing to dampen her ardour for the escapade.
“Will they still come after us, the Yankees?” she asked, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself to ward off the morning’s chill.
“They might. They’ll want to, that’s for certain. But I reckon they’ll have no choice but to continue on in the direction of Atlanta … so I imagine we are safe for the moment.” ‘
“Uncle Billy will be cross.”
William shook his head at her childish turn of phrase. “He won’t be cross. He will be furious. I almost wish I was there to see his fury. It’s a shame that the Lieutenant did not survive to incur his wrath.”
William stoked the fire with force, causing it to flare up, and then moved his hand to rest on hers.
“Where are we headed William?” Catherine looked down at his hand but made no move to remove it from her own. It was the first intimate contact they had shared since they had ridden off away from White Orchard, and it promised much.
“We are heading for Ohio Falls. It’s where Jesse and Frank will be.” He could feel the warmth of her hand underneath his. He concentrated on how it felt as his fingertips moved gently to tease out a pattern on her skin.
They sat together, staring out into the wild, barren landscape, sharing the moment.
“I suppose we should get ready.” Catherine sighed as she broke the spell between them. “I expect we will be riding all day again?”
William took his hand back, immediately missing the feeling of Catherine’s warm skin. “Yes, we will, but we can rest whenever you wish.”
Despite a growing sense of urgency to move on, they continued to sit together, enjoying each other’s company, comfortable in the silence. “William,” Catherine was serious when she spoke again, “are we in danger?”
He opened his mouth, his first thought to scotch the idea immediately. But he had spent too long living with lies to begin this new life with more of the same. “Yes.”
He watched her closely, looking for a flicker of fear in her eyes. “We need to find the Raiders as quickly as we can.” If we encounter anyone else, then we are in danger for sure.
There was a pause before he added. “But if it comes to that, we will have to ride for it.” He tried to make light of the situation, yet there was little he could do to disguise the peril that might well face them.
“I know you will keep me safe, William. I’ve seen you fight, remember. I know how vicious you can be”. Catherine shook off her fear, choosing instead to copy William and do her best to lighten the mood.
He laughed at her choice of words. “Vicious? I thought I was rather heroic.”
He was pleased to see her smile back.
“My hero!” She fluttered her eyelids in a theatrical gesture of adoration before quickly rising to her feet. She walked slowly back to where her mare was tethered, trying to feel concern for her future, summoning up the images of everything that she had endured in the recent past. But she could not. The experiences had hardened her. She was a different Catherine McCown to the one she had been just a week earlier. She was harder, tougher and no longer innocent.
And so, Catherine felt nothing save excitement. They might not know what the future held, but she would not turn back. Not now. Not ever.
William and Catherine rode on to the higher ground. Mountains rose around them like the walls of an impenetrable fort, their soaring pinnacles and spires reaching far up into the dark blue vastness of the sky. They saw little sign of life. Nothing but the birds of prey that soared on the swirls of hot air eddying far above.
Yet not all was bare and lifeless. Occasional folds or dips in the ground supported lush patches of vibrant growth, a rare treat for eyes that otherwise saw nothing but the dusty grey of the scree slopes around them. These pools of life boasted vivid colours, the bright reds, blues, purples and oranges of the mountain flowers offering a stark contrast to their dull surroundings. Occasionally the sound of moving water interrupted the lonely quiet, the gentle trickle of a mountain stream or the subtler noise of a thin smear of water sliding across the rocks. Otherwise it was silent, the only noise their horses’ hooves as their iron-shod feet clattered heavily on the rocky soil.
They rode on, surrounded by the vastness of the mountains, the far-reaching views of ravines, sharp towering peaks, leaping waterfalls and never-ending sloped hillsides only adding to the feeling of their isolation.
They spied the dust cloud long before the horsemen came into view. The open ground gave them no place to hide, the barren slope they were on bereft of all living things save for a scattering of thorny bushes and scrubby plants. It was tempting to immediately gouge their heels into the sides of their tired horses, forcing them into a reluctant gallop in a bid to be far away before the unknown riders came close.
William had no idea how close they were to the Falls, maybe not that far. But the long day in the saddle had dampened the desire for more time spent meandering around the bare hills with no clear idea of where they were headed. So instead of flight, they stopped and waited to see who else was journeying through the high ground.
“Be ready to gallop.” William pulled his horse to a halt as he prepared Catherine to flee. With a deft flick of her reins she edged her own horse backwards and to the side so that she could stand next to him, her equine skills instinctive.
His eyes remained fixed on the party of horsemen that was now making directly for them. It was clear they had been spotted and were now firmly in the other riders’ sights.
“There are four of them,” Catherine announced suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen over them as they both squinted into the bright light.
“Your eyes are better than mine.” William relaxed his face, giving up the effort of trying to identify the approaching horsemen.
“Are they in uniform?” It was hard to sit and wait for Catherine to answer the question. His worst fear was that they were being approached by Union Cavalry outriders. He had tried to convince himself that it was unlikely, not out here, but he knew they would have little chance of fighting them off, if they were foe as opposed to friend.
“No. They are dressed … well I guess like you are.” William tensed as Catherine gave him the vital information he needed.
Then his face turned into a broad smile when he saw just who was riding towards them.
“Jesse, thank God …” he whispered.
To Be Continued ...
Catherine just stared. She had been stripped, humiliated, whipped mercilessly before her own slaves, interrogated, punched and then raped. She had seen her house set on fire and even now, on the near horizon, the flames billowed out of every window. Words failed her completely and then so did her consciousness as she collapsed into darkness.
When she came to her head was cradled in the lap of her saviour. Looking up through barely open eyes Catherine smiled a weak smile into William’s concerned face.
“Catherine, thank the good Lord, you have woken.”
“William? How? What?” Still eloquence failed the poor girl.
“Shhhh, just rest.”
“But tell me how …”
William grinned. “I have been pistol whipped by better than Tom Shepherd. I came round just as smoke was coming under the door, which he had closed behind you both. A smashed window and a leap into the hay had me free. The bastard wanted me to suffer, to die in the smoke and flames, but he should have killed me!”
Catherine smiled a slightly stronger smile this time. “I am sure grateful that he did not.” She craned her neck a little as he leaned down and they shared a chaste kiss.
“You know what he did to me?” She said, the humiliation and hurt obvious in her intonation.
“Shhh, I do not need to know. He is dead, that is all that matters now.”
Catherine smiled a grateful smile up at him.
“Now rest while I go find clothes for you from the slave huts. They are all that are left.”
The girl nodded. “That’s okay William, find what you can, please.”
Shepherd nodded his agreement. He would be as quick as he could, and then they would leave.
Chapter 38 – The road North away from White Orchard 2pm May 18th 1864
“Catherine. It’s time to get up.” William gingerly nudged the sleeping form with the toe of his boot. He could make little sense of where her body lay under the thick wrappings of blanket, and he hoped he had not inadvertently poked a sensitive area with his unsubtle alarm call.
“Catherine.” He spoke again, raising his voice to make sure it penetrated the cloth that swaddled her head. To his satisfaction he saw her start to stir, and almost certain that she would heed his call to rise, he returned to the fire that he had tended during the long, lonely hours of the night.
He had found clothes for her. A tattered skirt and a ripped shirt, both from slaves that had now departed. The house was still burning when they rode away. She had lost everything … everything but him.
They had ridden through the midday sun, then on throughout the long, hot day until after night had fallen. He had seen Catherine swaying in the saddle, her exhaustion obvious. As much as he would have liked to keep going, he had sensed that she was at the end of her strength. They had unsaddled the horses, and created a meagre sanctuary on a lonely, windswept hillside, sheltering as best they could amongst a group of large boulders.
He picked up a stick and stabbed the fire back into life. It had been a tedious night. He had chosen to sit and keep watch despite his tiredness and the distance they had covered, he remained anxious that they would be discovered by Sherman’s Army. The anxiety had gnawed at him but he did his best to keep it contained, forcing himself to sit still whilst Catherine slept.
She would need her full strength should they be forced to avoid any persistent pursuit during the coming day. He kept his eyes low, concentrating on the flickering flames that danced into life in front of him. He craved a decent drink, sorely missing the reviving effects of a strong coffee or a sharp whisky.
He walked over to the horse they had taken for Catherine, so that he could search through the saddlebags. But there was nothing.
The image of General Sherman hearing the news of Catherine’s escape crept into William’s mind – was she really his Goddaughter? It was a notion to savour, and he found himself chuckling softly as he pictured the rage on the General’s face that must have surely followed.
“And what is amusing you this morning?” Catherine crawled gingerly from her place to sit in front of the fire, still swaddled in the thick blanket that had kept her warm through the chill hours of the night.
“General Sherman. I was imagining how he must have reacted when he discovered you were gone.” William gave up his search, for anything to drink other than the water supplies they had taken from the slave well back at the conflagration which used to be White Orchard. He walked back to the warmth of the fire.
“Poor Uncle Billy.’ Catherine looked wistful as she carefully took a seat next to William.
“Poor Uncle Billy my ass,” He turned to look at the lovely girl beside him. “You must surely hate him with a passion Catherine, after everything he let happen to you?”
“I do, and every last one of his damnable Army!” She relished the statement, her satisfaction at Sherman’s perceived distress obvious. William looked hard at the young girl sitting opposite him. He could only marvel at her spirit.
She had lost her parents, her home, her innocence, and in such a brutal manner, and now gambled her future and potentially her life on a wild adventure with only an outlawed guerrilla for a companion. Yet she did not seem the least bit perturbed at her actions; even a night spent with only rocks for a bed had done nothing to dampen her ardour for the escapade.
“Will they still come after us, the Yankees?” she asked, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself to ward off the morning’s chill.
“They might. They’ll want to, that’s for certain. But I reckon they’ll have no choice but to continue on in the direction of Atlanta … so I imagine we are safe for the moment.” ‘
“Uncle Billy will be cross.”
William shook his head at her childish turn of phrase. “He won’t be cross. He will be furious. I almost wish I was there to see his fury. It’s a shame that the Lieutenant did not survive to incur his wrath.”
William stoked the fire with force, causing it to flare up, and then moved his hand to rest on hers.
“Where are we headed William?” Catherine looked down at his hand but made no move to remove it from her own. It was the first intimate contact they had shared since they had ridden off away from White Orchard, and it promised much.
“We are heading for Ohio Falls. It’s where Jesse and Frank will be.” He could feel the warmth of her hand underneath his. He concentrated on how it felt as his fingertips moved gently to tease out a pattern on her skin.
They sat together, staring out into the wild, barren landscape, sharing the moment.
“I suppose we should get ready.” Catherine sighed as she broke the spell between them. “I expect we will be riding all day again?”
William took his hand back, immediately missing the feeling of Catherine’s warm skin. “Yes, we will, but we can rest whenever you wish.”
Despite a growing sense of urgency to move on, they continued to sit together, enjoying each other’s company, comfortable in the silence. “William,” Catherine was serious when she spoke again, “are we in danger?”
He opened his mouth, his first thought to scotch the idea immediately. But he had spent too long living with lies to begin this new life with more of the same. “Yes.”
He watched her closely, looking for a flicker of fear in her eyes. “We need to find the Raiders as quickly as we can.” If we encounter anyone else, then we are in danger for sure.
There was a pause before he added. “But if it comes to that, we will have to ride for it.” He tried to make light of the situation, yet there was little he could do to disguise the peril that might well face them.
“I know you will keep me safe, William. I’ve seen you fight, remember. I know how vicious you can be”. Catherine shook off her fear, choosing instead to copy William and do her best to lighten the mood.
He laughed at her choice of words. “Vicious? I thought I was rather heroic.”
He was pleased to see her smile back.
“My hero!” She fluttered her eyelids in a theatrical gesture of adoration before quickly rising to her feet. She walked slowly back to where her mare was tethered, trying to feel concern for her future, summoning up the images of everything that she had endured in the recent past. But she could not. The experiences had hardened her. She was a different Catherine McCown to the one she had been just a week earlier. She was harder, tougher and no longer innocent.
And so, Catherine felt nothing save excitement. They might not know what the future held, but she would not turn back. Not now. Not ever.
William and Catherine rode on to the higher ground. Mountains rose around them like the walls of an impenetrable fort, their soaring pinnacles and spires reaching far up into the dark blue vastness of the sky. They saw little sign of life. Nothing but the birds of prey that soared on the swirls of hot air eddying far above.
Yet not all was bare and lifeless. Occasional folds or dips in the ground supported lush patches of vibrant growth, a rare treat for eyes that otherwise saw nothing but the dusty grey of the scree slopes around them. These pools of life boasted vivid colours, the bright reds, blues, purples and oranges of the mountain flowers offering a stark contrast to their dull surroundings. Occasionally the sound of moving water interrupted the lonely quiet, the gentle trickle of a mountain stream or the subtler noise of a thin smear of water sliding across the rocks. Otherwise it was silent, the only noise their horses’ hooves as their iron-shod feet clattered heavily on the rocky soil.
They rode on, surrounded by the vastness of the mountains, the far-reaching views of ravines, sharp towering peaks, leaping waterfalls and never-ending sloped hillsides only adding to the feeling of their isolation.
They spied the dust cloud long before the horsemen came into view. The open ground gave them no place to hide, the barren slope they were on bereft of all living things save for a scattering of thorny bushes and scrubby plants. It was tempting to immediately gouge their heels into the sides of their tired horses, forcing them into a reluctant gallop in a bid to be far away before the unknown riders came close.
William had no idea how close they were to the Falls, maybe not that far. But the long day in the saddle had dampened the desire for more time spent meandering around the bare hills with no clear idea of where they were headed. So instead of flight, they stopped and waited to see who else was journeying through the high ground.
“Be ready to gallop.” William pulled his horse to a halt as he prepared Catherine to flee. With a deft flick of her reins she edged her own horse backwards and to the side so that she could stand next to him, her equine skills instinctive.
His eyes remained fixed on the party of horsemen that was now making directly for them. It was clear they had been spotted and were now firmly in the other riders’ sights.
“There are four of them,” Catherine announced suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen over them as they both squinted into the bright light.
“Your eyes are better than mine.” William relaxed his face, giving up the effort of trying to identify the approaching horsemen.
“Are they in uniform?” It was hard to sit and wait for Catherine to answer the question. His worst fear was that they were being approached by Union Cavalry outriders. He had tried to convince himself that it was unlikely, not out here, but he knew they would have little chance of fighting them off, if they were foe as opposed to friend.
“No. They are dressed … well I guess like you are.” William tensed as Catherine gave him the vital information he needed.
Then his face turned into a broad smile when he saw just who was riding towards them.
“Jesse, thank God …” he whispered.
To Be Continued ...
Attachments
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Doors are good fire and smoke barriers, Mister Shepherd. During a fire, a closed door may be the difference between life and death! As you just experienced yourself!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
The man recovers quickly from a gunshot!
"All you need is Love!, Love, love, love "
A week of rape and torture will do that to a girl!
The action never stops, very good!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Reminds me of this classic Civil War movie scene!
That war must have been really confusing!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Shepherd/Quantrill - easy to get mixed up ...
Damn!
Calling Scarlet ... classic Southern belle eye-flutter treatment and flattering sugar-coated words. Swell of background music, zoom in camera shot ...
Excuse me while I
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Chapter 39 – The Hills around Douglas Ford, Missouri November 16th 1864
(6 months later)
Crashing through the brush at top speed, the sides of her dress bunched into her fists, Catherine felt the mesquite branches scraping her skin as she plunged through the dense thicket and its thorny undergrowth. All the world was a dull roar, and all that she could hear was the cracking of branches and the blood pounding in her ears as she scrambled in frantic flight for all she was worth. Her lungs were on fire as her chest heaved to give her air. Time stood still but she reckoned that she had been running for at least half a mile.
Suddenly her right foot slammed against a large rock and she flew headlong into a tangle of scrub brush.
That was where she laid gasping for air and holding her foot when the bastards caught up to her.
It had been several months since she had left behind the burning shell of White Orchard and ridden away with William. During the time since, they had laid low.
The Raiders broke up in the late Summer of 1864. Quantrill and his Lieutenants … The James brothers, William “Bloody Bill” Anderson, had wanted different things.
Some wanted to harass Sherman as he moved through Georgia, some planned to stay around Missouri and Kentucky, homeland for many of the men, and defend their own lands … but Quantrill, despite his vicious, bloody life, had found love. He wanted to settle down if such domestic happiness was ever going to be possible.
By the Fall of 1864 Quantrill had taken on the guise of a Bushwhacking Freelancer. He led no one any longer, but when he occasionally rode with Bloody Bill’s Guerrilla’s he still received the respect he deserved. But mostly he was hidden, alone with Catherine in the small cabin that was only ever found by the local wildlife …
But when Catherine ventured out alone into the mountain overgrowth, danger lurked once more …
"Well, well," Her dusty coated pursuer grinned his toothless grin, as he bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breathe. "Our little rabbit has finally stopped."
"Good thing," wheezed his compatriot, "'Cause I was fixin’ to shoot the little cunt if I had to run much more."
Catherine looked at them with the eyes of a cornered animal while her mind raced for a way to talk her way out of this.
"It looks like she hurt her foot," said one.
"Good," replied the other, sweating profusely. "Maybe I'll twist it a little until she gladly gives up that fresh little poontang she’s hiding from us."
Both men laughed out loud.
Catherine, knew what ‘poontang’ was and realised that without divine intervention her fate was sealed. Then she noticed both men staring at her chest and she suddenly realised that the buttons on the front of her dress had fallen open during her flight, and then been torn almost off by the thick brush.
She had not worn a chemise underneath today, even though her firm young breasts clearly demanded one for decency. These days, when she was around no one but William, or out walking on her own, like she had been this day, Catherine very rarely bothered with how she looked. Most days she wore a simple baggy clothes … just like she had today.
In fact, that was what started all of this, her figure was hard for men to ignore no matter what clothes she wore, but with no under-things her breasts were now speaking far too loudly to these stateless outlaws. These lowlifes that had stumbled into her, and forced her to flee. She had no idea which direction she had run in, nor where the cabin was.
Clutching at the front of her meagre covering, Catherine concealed her breasts as best she could, but the men continued to stare with hungry eyes.
"Please …” she implored, “… you haven't done anything wrong yet, and if you stop now, I won't tell a soul. But if this goes any farther, then you'll both be hunted down. You have no idea who I am …” Her claim was a bluff, because despite William’s erstwhile infamy or heroism, depending which side of the Mason-Dixon your sympathies lie, his reputation would not currently be vibrant enough to make a difference to these outlaws, who clearly had only one thing on their minds.
The men were quiet, still ogling her as their breathing returned to normal.
"Honey, this ain’t gonna be no 'molesting'… you're about to get fucked ... good and hard. Hell, dressed like that, lookin’ all loose and available, you're obviously beggin' for it, and you might even like it. Something tells me that there ain't no one tapped that little crease in a long time," said the toothless one.
Catherine closed her eyes to reflect on the unwanted irony of his words.
She returned his stare, and knew in an instant that his promise to violate her was genuine.
The girl still keenly felt the terrible torment she had experienced at the hands of the Union Army and that monstrous bastard, Tom Shepherd. Regular, panic filled nightmares, scars on her body, and a recurring soreness between her thighs had only been conquered with loving patience and understanding from William. But unless she could escape this predicament, Kate knew that they would soon be feeling these strangers inside her body, and both of the filthy beasts would seed her before the next hour had passed. Worse, there was nobody around to hear her protest or cries. Catherine knew that to go through this again would break her …
The toothless one stood and towered over her. She watched as he unfastened the rope that was holding up his pants, and let the thin fabric drop to the ground.
He stepped out of them. He too was without under garments and his erection was already bobbing freely.
“On your fucking knees bitch.” She saw his revolver pointed at her head, and sucking on her bottom lip in an attempt to keep her mouth closed, Catherine did as she was instructed.
“Good girl, now suck it and if I feel so much as a scratch from your teeth, I will blow your pretty head apart. Now git onto my cock you cunt!’
Closing her eyes, and with a desperate sense of resignation overwhelming her, Catherine moved her face forward.
“Please, do not do this,” she begged one final time. The acrid aroma from his slack foreskin was already pungent within her nostrils. Her lips were but an inch from his swollen cockhead when she heard the shot and then screamed as the brute looming before her fell almost squashing her to the ground.
A second shot rang out and then the scene she had hardly dare hope would manifest, had become real. Frowning, William was replacing his pistol into the waist holster and holding out his hand to help her to her feet.
“No more walking out alone Catherine, these times are just too dangerous.”
She nodded and allowed herself to be swallowed into his embrace. As they set off to walk back to the cabin his arm still pulled her in tightly to his body, as if he would never be letting go.
Join me tomorrow for the final episode of "The Georgia Peach III - All is Fair" ...
(6 months later)
Crashing through the brush at top speed, the sides of her dress bunched into her fists, Catherine felt the mesquite branches scraping her skin as she plunged through the dense thicket and its thorny undergrowth. All the world was a dull roar, and all that she could hear was the cracking of branches and the blood pounding in her ears as she scrambled in frantic flight for all she was worth. Her lungs were on fire as her chest heaved to give her air. Time stood still but she reckoned that she had been running for at least half a mile.
Suddenly her right foot slammed against a large rock and she flew headlong into a tangle of scrub brush.
That was where she laid gasping for air and holding her foot when the bastards caught up to her.
It had been several months since she had left behind the burning shell of White Orchard and ridden away with William. During the time since, they had laid low.
The Raiders broke up in the late Summer of 1864. Quantrill and his Lieutenants … The James brothers, William “Bloody Bill” Anderson, had wanted different things.
Some wanted to harass Sherman as he moved through Georgia, some planned to stay around Missouri and Kentucky, homeland for many of the men, and defend their own lands … but Quantrill, despite his vicious, bloody life, had found love. He wanted to settle down if such domestic happiness was ever going to be possible.
By the Fall of 1864 Quantrill had taken on the guise of a Bushwhacking Freelancer. He led no one any longer, but when he occasionally rode with Bloody Bill’s Guerrilla’s he still received the respect he deserved. But mostly he was hidden, alone with Catherine in the small cabin that was only ever found by the local wildlife …
But when Catherine ventured out alone into the mountain overgrowth, danger lurked once more …
"Well, well," Her dusty coated pursuer grinned his toothless grin, as he bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breathe. "Our little rabbit has finally stopped."
"Good thing," wheezed his compatriot, "'Cause I was fixin’ to shoot the little cunt if I had to run much more."
Catherine looked at them with the eyes of a cornered animal while her mind raced for a way to talk her way out of this.
"It looks like she hurt her foot," said one.
"Good," replied the other, sweating profusely. "Maybe I'll twist it a little until she gladly gives up that fresh little poontang she’s hiding from us."
Both men laughed out loud.
Catherine, knew what ‘poontang’ was and realised that without divine intervention her fate was sealed. Then she noticed both men staring at her chest and she suddenly realised that the buttons on the front of her dress had fallen open during her flight, and then been torn almost off by the thick brush.
She had not worn a chemise underneath today, even though her firm young breasts clearly demanded one for decency. These days, when she was around no one but William, or out walking on her own, like she had been this day, Catherine very rarely bothered with how she looked. Most days she wore a simple baggy clothes … just like she had today.
In fact, that was what started all of this, her figure was hard for men to ignore no matter what clothes she wore, but with no under-things her breasts were now speaking far too loudly to these stateless outlaws. These lowlifes that had stumbled into her, and forced her to flee. She had no idea which direction she had run in, nor where the cabin was.
Clutching at the front of her meagre covering, Catherine concealed her breasts as best she could, but the men continued to stare with hungry eyes.
"Please …” she implored, “… you haven't done anything wrong yet, and if you stop now, I won't tell a soul. But if this goes any farther, then you'll both be hunted down. You have no idea who I am …” Her claim was a bluff, because despite William’s erstwhile infamy or heroism, depending which side of the Mason-Dixon your sympathies lie, his reputation would not currently be vibrant enough to make a difference to these outlaws, who clearly had only one thing on their minds.
The men were quiet, still ogling her as their breathing returned to normal.
"Honey, this ain’t gonna be no 'molesting'… you're about to get fucked ... good and hard. Hell, dressed like that, lookin’ all loose and available, you're obviously beggin' for it, and you might even like it. Something tells me that there ain't no one tapped that little crease in a long time," said the toothless one.
Catherine closed her eyes to reflect on the unwanted irony of his words.
She returned his stare, and knew in an instant that his promise to violate her was genuine.
The girl still keenly felt the terrible torment she had experienced at the hands of the Union Army and that monstrous bastard, Tom Shepherd. Regular, panic filled nightmares, scars on her body, and a recurring soreness between her thighs had only been conquered with loving patience and understanding from William. But unless she could escape this predicament, Kate knew that they would soon be feeling these strangers inside her body, and both of the filthy beasts would seed her before the next hour had passed. Worse, there was nobody around to hear her protest or cries. Catherine knew that to go through this again would break her …
The toothless one stood and towered over her. She watched as he unfastened the rope that was holding up his pants, and let the thin fabric drop to the ground.
He stepped out of them. He too was without under garments and his erection was already bobbing freely.
“On your fucking knees bitch.” She saw his revolver pointed at her head, and sucking on her bottom lip in an attempt to keep her mouth closed, Catherine did as she was instructed.
“Good girl, now suck it and if I feel so much as a scratch from your teeth, I will blow your pretty head apart. Now git onto my cock you cunt!’
Closing her eyes, and with a desperate sense of resignation overwhelming her, Catherine moved her face forward.
“Please, do not do this,” she begged one final time. The acrid aroma from his slack foreskin was already pungent within her nostrils. Her lips were but an inch from his swollen cockhead when she heard the shot and then screamed as the brute looming before her fell almost squashing her to the ground.
A second shot rang out and then the scene she had hardly dare hope would manifest, had become real. Frowning, William was replacing his pistol into the waist holster and holding out his hand to help her to her feet.
“No more walking out alone Catherine, these times are just too dangerous.”
She nodded and allowed herself to be swallowed into his embrace. As they set off to walk back to the cabin his arm still pulled her in tightly to his body, as if he would never be letting go.
Join me tomorrow for the final episode of "The Georgia Peach III - All is Fair" ...
Attachments
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
One would almost expect to see Quantrill return from work, in his suit : "Honey, I am home!".
But Catherine's life seems to ressemble nothing from what it was at White Orchard!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Very perceptive my friend ... Catherine is a completely different girl from the innocent young thing left by fate to manage the White Orchard Estate and all of its associated complications ...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Luckily for Catherine, it is only Missouri she is hiding in, not Arkansas!If that’s even possible, yes.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Dang it! Another good man sissified by a girly.
Don't be hasty friend. What a waste that would be!
What? Are these guys some kind of hillbilly farmers?
I have a feeling, she's more changed than we have been told.
Can't wait for the finale.
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Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Chapter 40 – Quantrill’s Cabin, Missouri, the night of November 18th 1864
Despite the hazy, fuzzy edges to her mind Catherine could feel the close presence of the blue-coated soldiers.
“Strip the bitch naked, tie her to the tree, and give her twenty lashes. Make sure they are on her back and her ass. While she is still hanging there, let a dozen of your men have her, one after the other. Then send her onto General Sherman. He will be pleased we have found her … They will know what to do with her there.”
All the blood had drained from Catherine’s face.
“No,” she whispered.
“No! No!” she begged, as two of the soldiers grasped her arms.
“No!” she screamed.
She heard laughter.
“You can’t! Please, no!”
“Get her naked, NOW!” ‘
“No!” Catherine screamed again, as she was half marched, half dragged towards the post.
“Please! Help me! Somebody help … me! William, please … Willllliaaaaam!”
Catherine sat up with a start. Her chest was heaving and thin chemise was soaked with perspiration.
“It’s okay Catherine, you are safe. I’m here …” William was now awake too, and slowly the young girl by his side calmed down, the nightmare receding.
“It was that dream again,” she whispered quietly in the dark surrounds of their small log cabin which William had built during the Summer months following his rescue of her back in May.
“It will stop, eventually Catherine, trust me it will.”
“They will find me William … us, I mean. They will find us, those bastards…” She paused, her gradually calming expression taking on a calming appearance.
“I must hide my trail. I can’t be Catherine McCown any longer.”
Quantrill looked quizzically at the girl who, although not officially married to him, had become his wife in all but name.
“Then who will you be my darling Catherine?”
Catherine let her head fall back to the pillow.
“I do not know my love. Who could I be?” She pondered a while.
“My dear Mama used to chastise Father when he called me Kate instead of using my full name …” Momentarily her eyes misted as she recalled better times from just a few short years ago.
“Then you shall be Kate my darling girl, and you can use my middle name as your surname, that way we are almost married in title also.”
Catherine smiled. “I never knew your middle name?”
“It’s Clarke, my love …”
And in that instant Kate Clarke was born and Catherine Rosemary McCown was no more.
THE GEORGIA PEACH II – ALL IS FAIR
THE END
Despite the hazy, fuzzy edges to her mind Catherine could feel the close presence of the blue-coated soldiers.
“Strip the bitch naked, tie her to the tree, and give her twenty lashes. Make sure they are on her back and her ass. While she is still hanging there, let a dozen of your men have her, one after the other. Then send her onto General Sherman. He will be pleased we have found her … They will know what to do with her there.”
All the blood had drained from Catherine’s face.
“No,” she whispered.
“No! No!” she begged, as two of the soldiers grasped her arms.
“No!” she screamed.
She heard laughter.
“You can’t! Please, no!”
“Get her naked, NOW!” ‘
“No!” Catherine screamed again, as she was half marched, half dragged towards the post.
“Please! Help me! Somebody help … me! William, please … Willllliaaaaam!”
Catherine sat up with a start. Her chest was heaving and thin chemise was soaked with perspiration.
“It’s okay Catherine, you are safe. I’m here …” William was now awake too, and slowly the young girl by his side calmed down, the nightmare receding.
“It was that dream again,” she whispered quietly in the dark surrounds of their small log cabin which William had built during the Summer months following his rescue of her back in May.
“It will stop, eventually Catherine, trust me it will.”
“They will find me William … us, I mean. They will find us, those bastards…” She paused, her gradually calming expression taking on a calming appearance.
“I must hide my trail. I can’t be Catherine McCown any longer.”
Quantrill looked quizzically at the girl who, although not officially married to him, had become his wife in all but name.
“Then who will you be my darling Catherine?”
Catherine let her head fall back to the pillow.
“I do not know my love. Who could I be?” She pondered a while.
“My dear Mama used to chastise Father when he called me Kate instead of using my full name …” Momentarily her eyes misted as she recalled better times from just a few short years ago.
“Then you shall be Kate my darling girl, and you can use my middle name as your surname, that way we are almost married in title also.”
Catherine smiled. “I never knew your middle name?”
“It’s Clarke, my love …”
And in that instant Kate Clarke was born and Catherine Rosemary McCown was no more.
THE GEORGIA PEACH II – ALL IS FAIR
THE END
Attachments
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Mother Nature's traps!
Sounds like a happy ending, but is it? The future is very uncertain.
Good story, Fossy!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
As I have said before - if a book is worth a sequel, it is worth becoming a trilogyMother Nature's traps!
Sounds like a happy ending, but is it? The future is very uncertain.
Good story, Fossy!
More info to follow in due course ...