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THE GEORGIA PEACH III - The Steel Dove

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Chapter 24 – A Fate even worse? … Cactus Valley May 1865


Kate could have stopped caring. She had been pulled and pushed by squealing squaws down to the river where she was about to be tortured and raped. She could have stopped caring, she should have stopped caring …

But she had not. From somewhere inside her the resolve to stay alive burned with a living flame. She had things to do still, revenge to seek, a life to live. She was barely out of her teenage years, and despite living so much life already, she knew that there had to be more.

So instead of feeling numb and ready to face whatever was done to her, Kate was trembling with fear, scared of what her imminent torture, violation and then death would feel like. The only saving grace in her mind was that by the time the torture and rape were over, death would seem like a blessing …

But she could not stop herself from pleading.

“Please, no more. Let me live. Do not hurt me again, I will be yours, your slave, your squaw … anything …”

“Your words make me hard she-bitch. I will make sure your body is filled with cactus needles all except for the parts that I want. When you are tied to the plant, I will take you, and get from you all of the magic that you hold. Raping you will lead to your death and I will become even stronger!”

The Chief stood with his arms folded and his erection burgeoning. He grinned, laughed and then fell to the ground.

There was screaming everywhere as the squaws yelled and ran. Their Chief was dead, blood pouring from the bullet hole in his head. Kate looked up, confused as a dust cloud came quickly towards her.

The Chickasaw women disappeared quickly fleeing back to the camp, as the dusty rider at the head of the small group rode to a halt, stopping just a few feet before the bound, naked girl.

He stared at her, drinking in the vision of her tortured loveliness from bare feet, to her naked breasts and pussy, and her beautiful face. Even from within the saddle he felt his cock harden.

But Kate stared too. This was out of the frying pan and into the fire. The man before her was Edwin Terrell!

“Well what do we got ourselves here? A slave girl from the injuns!” He grinned down at her. He had no idea who she was, but Kate knew this bastard before her only too well. She felt energised once more. Would she finally get her chance to kill him and avenge William?

As Terrell dismounted and stared once more at her nudity, she glared back at him. He laughed and shouted, “The Chief should not have left himself with only women to guard him. Maybe he wanted to try this hot bitch out before any other savage touched her. Well, y’know that’s just what I want too. Strap her over my horse, she’s mine first and I’m riding her into the mountains to take my pleasure before you heathens get to ravage her …”

Kate felt sick, but that was the last thing she felt, sensed or spoke as a fist struck her jaw and she was knocked out cold!


Tomorrow's post is the last ever episode of The Georgia Peach ... After all she has been through, what will Kate's fate finally be?
Join me to find out ...



To Be Continued ...
 

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“Your words make me hard she-bitch. I will make sure your body is filled with cactus needles all except for the parts that I want. When you are tied to the plant, I will take you, and get from you all of the magic that you hold. Raping you will lead to your death and I will become even stronger!”
You know. You have to respect the gritty folk wisdom and spirit magic of our first-nation brothers. I'm gradually coming around to that belief system! :clapping: :clapping: :clapping:
 
Chapter 24 – Cache River Ridge, Missouri … May 1865


Sometime later Kate awoke to a strange upside-down view of her surroundings. Her head was throbbing badly, particularly her jaw from the blow, and there was an abominable pain in her ankles. It took a little concentration, focus and time to remember what had happened so that she could begin to work out why everything looked so strange.

Then Kate realised that she was hanging upside down from her ankles, still naked, with her legs spread wide apart, roped to a heavy tree branch above her. She was swinging gently back and forth, wrists and elbows tied tightly behind her back, causing her tortured breasts to push out as if in invitation.

In front of her, squatting comfortably waiting for her to come round, sat a grinning Edwin Terrell. Upon seeing her eyes open he got to his feet and strode contemptuously across to stand in front of his swinging and, quite frankly, terrified prize.

“So, you are awake,” his words were accompanied by a thin-lipped smirk. “… and so now I can have my fun …” He smiled down at her upward looking face, currently suspended at the height of his groin, a position and height that she knew was premeditated for good reason.

“Please listen to me, I am …” Kate began to croak, until a hard punch to the stomach robbed her of the breath required to speak.

“You’re not here to speak girl, now you are mine for pain and pleasure … your pain and my pleasure.” He laughed loudly at his own perceived wit.

Kate fought for breath, screaming inside as he reached out and began to twist the antler shards that were still embedded in each breast.

“Aaarghhh no stop, please!” She finally managed to scream out, “Nooooooooo! Stop!!!”

William’s monstrous murderer grinned, and without preamble he twisted the shard inserted through the aureole of her right nipple, bringing forth a desperate, high-pitched scream from his hanging captive.

He quickly followed that excruciating episode by repeating the agonising action on the other side. Then laughing he took a small step backwards and began to wrap small bundles of dry grass and moss around the exposed ends of the shards. Kate’s screams died away to be replaced by a constant mewling …

Taking a flint head match-stick from his pocket, Terrell lit a small bundle of grasses from the dusty plain, waited until the initial black smoke had produced a small flame and then swept the developing fire across Kate’s breasts, igniting the small bundles of dry kindling wrapped around the exposed ends of the antler shards.

Small flames leapt up burning away at her tender flesh as they scorched her nipples. Kate was bucking and twisting, but the large branch holding her upside down, remained firm. Her whole world dissolved into one of pain and terror as the small dry grass and moss bundles burned slowly away across her breasts until there was just smoke drifting into the air.

“Arrrrrrghhhhhhh, stopppppp it … Oh God, Oh God, ohhhhhhh …” screamed Kate as her defenceless, already tortured breasts and nipples were bathed in agony.

“Let me die please kill me now!”

Terrell came close and, twisting his fingers into the captive girl’s long mane of dark hair, wrenched her pain filled face up close to his own.

“You can call your God bitch, but he ain’t helping you now! No one is helping you, certainly not that bastard Quantrill … and your time to die ain’t quite yet!”

His words cut through Kate’s haze of pain like a knife. He knew who she was!

“Yep,” Terrell said, “I know who you are girl, and what you deserve, which is why you are getting this special treatment!”

“Nnnnnnnnngh, nnnnnnnngh!” Kate groaned incoherently, her whole body feeling as if it was on fire.

Terrell let go of her hair and as she swung back down into position, he aimed another hefty punch into her frantically expanding and contracting solar plexus.

With a scowl, he picked up a short piece of branch as Kate subsided into a silence broken only by her fragmented groans as she attempted to suck a little air back into her lungs. Wickedly he ran the sharpened, broken end of the branch over her spread vaginal lips, and along the slit. Her labia and clitoris were still swollen from the ant venom, then she bucked and twisted as her inserted the stick, twisting and pushing it inside her opened body.

“Tell me how much this hurts bitch, imagine William watching as I torture you!” He laughed as he spoke, leaving the stick protruding obscenely from between her spread thighs. He walked slowly around her hanging body, fondling, cupping, feeling until he arrived back at her front, his groin bulging. His expression darkened as he reached forward and slowly pulled the thin stake from her pussy. Once more the poor girl twisted and arched her body.

Kate longed for the blessed relief of death, but life refused to leave her. Twisting and writhing desperately she experienced every last moment of agony, just as Terrell had intended she would do.


Chapter 25 – The Final Curtain … May 1865


The monstrous erstwhile Union Bushwhacker watched grimly as his captive’s movements stilled and her conscious state subsided. Patiently with a growing erection, he waited for her to regain at least some of her senses. His plan of torture for this devil of a Reb cunt was intricate and involved, calculated to keep her alive and in constant agony for as long as he could. He would rape her of course, but not in the mouth. The stories form the towns that had led him here, to Cactus Valley among the renegade Chickasaw, told him of how she had actually bitten off a warrior’s cock … he would be content to ravage her tight pussy and split her puckered ass!

As Kate moaned her way back into some sort of consciousness, Terrell busied himself collecting more dried pieces of kindling and building a small fire – nothing too big to give away his whereabouts.

This time he would pack the grass and moss into her cunt and ass and burn her there, opening her a little more before he fucked her. They would burn slowly, inflicting the maximum amount of pain. It would not be done hastily, he had plenty of time left to extract his pleasure from her pain, and he meant to make sure that Quantrill’s bitch felt every last cut and burn!

Hanging still from the tree, the appalling pain that emanated from her whole body, but particularly her breasts, was hardly diminishing. She watched, her terror compounded, as Terrell tied and twisted grasses with small twigs into something looking like a fire torch ready to be lit. It took little imagination from her already tortured mind to realise which parts of her body these torches were intended for!

She did not want to, but Kate could not stop herself from begging for mercy, “Please, please, Captain Terrell, Sir, do not do this to me. I will do anything you ask, just do not …”

But Edwin Terrell ignored her please, though it gave him great satisfaction to hear the little cunt begging like this.

Moving to her, twigs and twisted grasses gripped hard in his fist, he, slowly and savagely, thrust the foliage kindling into her pussy and then he pushed more of the same hard into her twitching anus. He took his time, relishing Kate’s increasingly shrill screams as she continued to beg for some sort of mercy.

Kate was almost out of her mind, the hoarseness of her voice increasing by the second as her throat dried and her tongue swelled, and she knew that this nightmare had nowhere near yet run its course.

“Kill me, please just do it,” she whispered. Kate had given up. Her hope extinguished, her life was about to end. She was sad … so very, very sad … but that sadness was tinged with a pitiful relief.

Terrell turned back towards the small burning fire and reached down for a larger flaming torch. With an evil grin he turned back to face his hanging victim. For a moment their eyes met, then the monstrous man whirled away and fell backwards into the fire, his face disappearing in a welter of blood, flesh and bone …

Through her addled brain with the sound distant, Kate heard the rifle shot reverberating as if fired from a long way off, then a familiar and concerned, upside-down face swam into her view.

“It’s alright Kate,” Jesse James said softly, reaching up with a knife to cut the rawhide straps that bound her ankles to the tree. With a grunt he caught her tumbling body in his arms and lowered her gently to the ground.

Kate’s eyes misted and a melancholy darkness began to descend. Just before she passed out completely, she heard Jesse’s voice speaking tenderly to her as her removed the dry grasses and twigs from inside her body.

“I’m so sorry Kate,” he whispered, “Couldn’t get here afore all this. I heard the Chickasaw had you and that Terrell was after you … the towns for hundred miles round are filled with stories of you girl … I knew I had to come find you. Trouble was I didn’t know ‘zactly where you’d be. Took me a long, long time to track you to the Chickasaw camp and then to here …”

Kate relaxed against Jesse’s chest with sigh. The world was moving around her as the darkness closed in.

“You saved me Jesse, you were just in time …” she whispered, “… thank you.”


Epilogue


Jesse James did indeed save Kate Clarke, and, having transported her carefully those hundred’s of miles that the return journey demanded, caring for her as needed while they travelled, his mother Zerelda came to the home of the James’ brother to help nurse the Confederate heroine back to health.

Of course, she was bodily scarred and carried with her forever the mental trauma of everything that she had experienced. It is said that she had a pathological fear of ants up until her dying day! But Kate was barely twenty-one years old when she suffered at the hands of Chief Wolf, his tribe of renegade Chickasaw and the monstrous Edwin Terrill, and the healing that can be achieved when one has youth on one’s side is truly amazing.

Slowly, but very surely, Kate’s nubile form rebuilt itself. The scars faded to pale lines, all except a few on her back which remained welted forever to bear the greatest testimony to her mistreatment during the latter stages of the Civil War … and beyond. A local doctor-cum-surgeon extracted the antler shards from her breasts, treated the on-coming infection and the puncture holes eventually sealed themselves closed.

Kate and Jesse never did properly get together, but the James’ brothers gave Kate over $1,000, which in today’s monitory terms would be between $30,000 and $40,000. They said it was her share of the fund they had built up along with William. Kate used the funds along with the money she received from the sale of an amount of jewellery from the raider’s stash that she also had a share in, to set herself up in the boarding house business.

Eventually, a few years later, Federal Authorities found Kate in a small town in southwest Missouri. Unable to recover any money, or any stolen rings and jewels, they had nothing more to accuse her of, decided to let the matter go and left Kate alone.

She abandoned the life of a business owner in the early 1870s and set up a small house in Blue Springs, Missouri. Kate spent the money she earned from the guest house business and its subsequent sale, to extend the small dwelling she now called home, and eventually she planted her own fields of meagre crops.

She named the house ‘White Orchard’.

Kate married twice after losing Quantrill and had one child, Bertha Ivins-Evans. In late 1928 she moved to the Jackson County Home for the Aged to live out the remainder of her days, where it was reported that ‘… she seldom spoke to anyone and kept, for the most part, to herself …’

Never once was it reported that she had spoken about her torture and mistreatment, nor, despite his prominence, did she speak to her Godfather, General William Tecumseh Sherman ever again.

Kate Clarke died on February 4, 1930, of natural causes and was laid to rest at the Maple Hill Cemetery in Kansas City, Kansas. She was eighty-six years old when she passed.


The Georgia Peach – The Steel Dove

The End
 

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Kate fought for breath, screaming inside as he reached out and began to twist the antler shards that were still embedded in each breast.
William’s monstrous murderer grinned, and without preamble he twisted the shard inserted through the aureole of her right nipple, bringing forth a desperate, high-pitched scream from his hanging captive.
Let this be a lesson to any cruxgirls considering having their nipples pierced. It can lead to terrible pain! so have it done as soon as possible!

Rip-roaring tale of a remarkably resilient young woman. Enjoyed every minute.

Her is one of the very few photos of Terrell
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He looks young because he was only 20, when he killed Quantrill.
 
Thank you all for your tremendous support over the past few months with all three Georgia Peach instalments. The Fully Illustrated Story along with the Graphic Novel version, are now available in the CF Archive and can be found at the links below;

The Georgina Peach III - The Steel Dove illustrated Story
https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resources/the-georgia-peach-iii-the-steel-dove-by-fossy.804/

The Georgia Peach III - The Steel Dove Graphic Novel
https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resources/the-georgia-peach-iii-the-steel-dove-graphic-novel-by-fossy.805/
 
Chapter 3 – James’ home, St. Joseph, Missouri – 6:30pm 18th May 1865


“These are perfect Jesse, thank you, and to you too Frank.” Kate straightened down the skirt and the white sleeveless top. It was all they had of Ma’s that would likely fit. But it would more than do given the tattered and torn state of the dress she had arrived in.

“Boots okay?” Frank said between draws on the large cigar he held between his teeth.

“They’re also perfect boys, maybe a size too big which makes them easy to get on and off.”

“You sure Kate?”

“Like I said, they’re perfect Jesse.” It was less than a year since Kate had been Catherine and Mistress of a huge Estate and Plantation … it seemed a lifetime away.

“Just one thing boys. Will you take my old pistol and swap it for a .45, belt and holster?”

The brothers stared at her for a minute or two and then Frank chuckled. “What d’you want with a .45? A pretty little thing like you would never even lift it, never mind shoot it.”

Kate’s expression took on a determined look. “I want a .45, belt and holster Frank.”

“The kick would knock you off your feet Kate,” Jesse added, doing his best to avoid appearing overly patronising.

“Listen. We will do you the deal you want, and take the old pistol off you, but let me find you a Derringer … something smaller.”

Kate stared at him and her eyes were suddenly cold. “I want to kill Terrell,” she said softly, “I need a .45. It’s what William had. I want one.”

“That’s silly talk girl. The bushwhacker’s would shoot you down before you got within firing distance!”

Her expression remained equally as determined as she said, “If they can shoot me then I surely can shoot them … especially if I have a .45.” She paused then added, “I have to do this boys, I have no choice.”

Jesse shrugged his shoulders, his demeanour becoming resigned. “You’ll need more than a .45,” he said cocking his head to one side, “You ever fired one of these new Winchesters?”

She nodded her head slowly. “William taught me some. I got pretty good. Hit a squirrel from a hundred paces,” Kate’s face broke into a smile.

“I will need a horse too, and a bedroll and blanket and …”

“Whoa, little lady,” Jesse responded, “… and where d’you think we’re getting all of this from huh. We want to help you, course we do … you are … were, Will’s girl, but …”

Kate shrugged and stared at him expressionlessly. Her eyes still wore a cold, unfeeling, haunted look, and they were boring into his head knowingly.

“Did you like seeing me naked?” She said suddenly. “Better than the whores in downtown St Joseph’s huh?”

Frank swallowed and felt the hot flush pawing at his collar. “Fuck it Kate, don’t talk that way. Tain’t right, we were good friends to William.”

Moving to the curtain that separated this living area from the bathing room, she drew a finger across the drape and held it up in front of her face, rubbing the tip of her thumb over the slight gleam of still sticky semen.

“I can pay you boys in kind, both of you,” she said lowering her eyelids, “No one need ever know.”

Jesse swallowed hard and cursed the sudden twitch in his groin. If they did what she was suggesting no one could ever find out. But dealing supplies like those she wanted against her young, firm body was like dealing with the devil himself. They would surely burn in hell if they succumbed to such temptation. He looked at Frank and then at Kate, and a lump caught in his throat.

“What d’you say brother,” he said. Frank was silent, but, with his eyes raking Kate’s body from head to toe and back again, he slowly nodded.

The girl smoothed the skirt and pushed her unfettered breasts against the thin cotton of the sleeveless shirt. “Okay boys, if that’s alright with the two of you, we have a deal.”

Jesse shook his head. “What the hell are we doing here? You just lost your man Kate, and we’re doing deals on your body?” He shuddered. “Tain’t right, just ain’t right.”

“I have to do what I have to do,” she replied, the tone of her voice still reflecting some of her breeding, even after enduring everything she had since that awful day in the May of last year. She had somehow survived it all, but Catherine McCown was gone for ever, and Kate Clarke was a totally different girl.

“So that makes it right Jesse.” She continued. “You want to fuck me, then that’s alright too. Whatever it takes to get those weapons, the supplies and the horse. I know you can’t be giving me things for nothing, so the deal is the deal.”

She smiled, hands on hips, and waited.

“So, do we have a deal boys? Or is it the whores downtown for you, like always?”

Frank stared at her, and wondered who she was. They had first met her over a year ago, when despite being abused and exhausted, she still retained an overriding, demure refinement. But now she seemed like some sort of unfeeling devil-girl, making her lewd offers and grasping at their very souls.

Jesse looked at her. He couldn’t help himself and that single glance in her direction committed him to whatever warped activity she had in mind in order to ‘pay’ for their assistance. He coughed self-consciously and said, “Deal. I think you’re a crazy young girl, but what the hell.” He raised a finger and circled it around the room. “But just between the three of us, agreed.”

Kate laughed, “You think I want to advertise the fact that I’m selling out my body to a couple of dangerous outlaws. I sure will not be saying anything, so rest easy.”

Once again, her hands went to her hips, “But before we do anything, show me what I’m getting for my troubles, and then I’ll put up the first payment.”


To Be Continued ...
Really enjoying this!

BTW, as a recovering gun nut, I have to correct Kate about one thing: the .45 caliber cartridge, and the Single Action Army Revolver, ("Peacemaker"), which the cartridge was developed for, did not come into service until 1873. It would be far more likely that Confederate bushwhackers like Quantrill and the James boys would have been carrying a .36 caliber percussion revolver like the Colt Navy. The step up in power would be a .44 caliber percussion revolver such as the Colt Dragoon, or the Walker, which really is a hog leg. For a long arm, the top of the line rifle would have been a Henry lever action rifle, which was the forerunner of the Winchester, if they had been lucky enough to obtain one. The first Winchester lever action (the "Yellowboy") was produced in 1866 and chambered a .44 caliber Henry rimfire cartridge. Of course both armies used a wide variety of weapons, especially the South, which imported a lot of their weapons. But so far as I know, there was no .45 caliber at the time.
 
Really enjoying this!

BTW, as a recovering gun nut, I have to correct Kate about one thing: the .45 caliber cartridge, and the Single Action Army Revolver, ("Peacemaker"), which the cartridge was developed for, did not come into service until 1873. It would be far more likely that Confederate bushwhackers like Quantrill and the James boys would have been carrying a .36 caliber percussion revolver like the Colt Navy. The step up in power would be a .44 caliber percussion revolver such as the Colt Dragoon, or the Walker, which really is a hog leg. For a long arm, the top of the line rifle would have been a Henry lever action rifle, which was the forerunner of the Winchester, if they had been lucky enough to obtain one. The first Winchester lever action (the "Yellowboy") was produced in 1866 and chambered a .44 caliber Henry rimfire cartridge. Of course both armies used a wide variety of weapons, especially the South, which imported a lot of their weapons. But so far as I know, there was no .45 caliber at the time.
Delighted you're enjoying the tale Jon. You are spot on re the gun my friend. PrPr pointed out the very same thing which is why from hereon in Kate's handgun is referred to simply as 'the Colt' :)
 
Delighted you're enjoying the tale Jon. You are spot on re the gun my friend. PrPr pointed out the very same thing which is why from hereon in Kate's handgun is referred to simply as 'the Colt' :)
I should have figured that PrPr would catch some pedantic, trivial detail like that, lol. As usual, I'm late to the party. I should have just read on before pulling the trigger.
 
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