Chapter 2

Ivory and Sarah mounted the box to drive the horses. Sarah, it transpired, had always wanted to drive a team of horses; once more Carol Gilmurray thought that getting shot of that girl couldn’t come too soon. Imagine! Alone with a man like that! What she thought could happen on the box of a stagecoach was hard to imagine. She and her daughters sat in the stage being shaken to pieces, whilst the two on top held on for dear life even at the slower speed they opted for now. Sarah insisted on taking the shotgun with her. After shooting the man’s face off, she had been violently ill (thankfully avoiding soiling her dress with her vomit) but she had also crossed that rubicon. She would not succumb to a man forcing her to do anything now. She was thinking that perhaps her beau (who always wrote with instructions and commands and stereotypical controlling attitudes that she was finding difficult to deal with) was not the right man for her. Years ago he had even suggested that he supported Reverend P Buxolm when, in his sermon, that holy man had suggested it was a man’s duty to physically remonstrate with his wife to keep her in line.

The way station was visible from two miles away, they had crossed the highest spot and started on a gentle descent. It was odd that there was no smoke from the fire, perhaps it was too hot. From a mile away they expected to see people; horses perhaps ready for the quick change over. From half a mile it was clear there was nothing. They pulled in and saw the notice on the door “Due to the arrival of the Railrode [sic], this stashun is now shut”. But the railroad had been delayed by the bridge over Gulliver’s Canyon, and the soft sands of Dulap requiring extra foundations for the track. The company had informed the towns that they would continue for a few weeks more, and written to the way stations to tell them, but these people here had already left. There were no spare horses; there was hay, there was water, and (wonders!) there were several tins of beans.

“We will have to push on then.” Mrs Edmund Gilmurray attempted to stand on her superior status.

“Not tonight, nor tomorrow I fear. These horses are done, they need a couple of days to recover. They might collapse on the way down otherwise. The next way station is probably deserted too.” As it happens Ivory was wrong there, the next way station had developed into a small ranch and so would remain occupied; but he was not to know that.

“So, Mr Bertram T Essex or Mr Ivory Benson, what is the story?” Sarah Gilmurray was asking as she helped stall the horses.

“I needed a change of scenery, travelling less obviously seemed a good choice.” Was all he would say. He opted to leave his trunk on the stage. He suggested that the water behind in a big cistern could provide the ladies (first) with the opportunity to refresh themselves, then he would follow suit. That the same water was used for cooking and drinking was not lost on them all, and they drew off enough for such culinary needs first.

They took it in turns to undress and enter the large water tank. The water was cool and washed off their sweaty, dusty bodies. Naturally they did not undress entirely, they kept their cotton underclothes on, which nevertheless clung to their bodies showing them off in detail. Ivory was observed observing them. Sarah tried to make light of it, but knew that she was showing a well shaped and attractive body. Her cousins were less developed, but it was clear that he found them just as interesting to see. He tried not to be too obvious but they could not return to the rooms they had taken for use without passing the general social area – combined kitchen and canteen. Sarah was aware that her fine, perky breasts showed through the material, now more transparent than when dry. She was not aware that her lower shape was shown to maximum attraction too. He watched her retreat, and Carol Gilmurray watch him watch her pink bottom through the wet cloth. Melissa was less shapely but no less like a glass of fresh water to a man who had not had sex for some time. Her smaller bust still shown like two red cherries under a muslin cover, and the cleft of her bottom somehow seemed even more pronounced. Her young sister Elissande had no bust to speak of, but found her newly developing features responding to his gaze. Carol Gilmurray realised that she too would be on show. Should she ask him to look elsewhere? No, that would draw attention to the view she presented. Finally, in the water, she came to a decision.

This was a man, she reasoned; all man desired one thing and it was clear he was not being selective. He had rescued them from some awful fate in any case; surely a fate worse than one man could offer? Would those awful men have shared them round? Probably. Her daughters, would have been debased repeatedly. She took a deep breath “Mr Benson? Or is it Mr Essex? I am confused. Anyway, a word perhaps.” There followed some hasty and urgent discussions; at the end, he had acceded to her terms, and she to his. Her terms were that she would sleep with him if he left her daughters alone – she added her niece’s virginity on as an afterthought. The truth was that she would not have sacrificed herself for Sarah alone despite the girl being as virginal as Melissa and Elissande. Still the offer was made, and accepted. His terms were that ‘sleep with’ comprised whatsoever he chose it to mean for the two day duration of their stay as the horses recuperated. She thought that if he (or she) was inventive enough then for two days he could be distracted from moving on to the next female.

Carol Gilmurray went to find her dress, which she had had the girls beat and brush to remove the dust. Ivory Benson appeared soon after wrapped in a blanket. “Seemed pointless to dress just to undress again. Shall we eat?” They ate beans. The good ladies found that beans had two effects on their digestion. They tried to fart quietly, and they all had to find use of the ‘out back’ hole in the ground. Their normal diet sometimes had resulted in having to take laxatives to free their bowels, a large dose of beans after the vigorous shaking of the journey had a salutary effect. The way station had no male and female separation, but here the small group solved the problem by going in pairs (female) and guarding the door, or by singing (male). One did not stay longer than necessary, given the smell.

Meanwhile, the rugs used for making colder travel more acceptable, were now used as rough bed coverings in several of the rooms. Carol and Ivory made their way to the room Ivory had selected as the best for his purposes. It had a large iron bedstead, a stained mattress (now covered with a blanket, and a door that shut out the rest of the place – though not hermetically. Now aware that their mother and this man were ‘upto something’ the two girls spied through the crack at the hinge. They were quickly joined by their cousin who first whispered that they should be ashamed of spying on their mother and then wanted to see too.

All three expected to see their mother on her back, mother’s skirt up and man pummelling away. That, the older two had been told, was what was to be expected concerning married life; and certainly that was what Carol Gilmurray had largely expected too since that was what she had experienced with her husband until he left for the gold rush. Elissande was a little less clear on the details, but knew it was largely not something a woman welcomed until she had to do it as a duty (or for a price, she was aware there were professional women who kept male lust at bay. In an unusual view of this, she saw these women as providing a service for keeping respectable women safe rather than these professionals being low class and disreputable).

So it was something of a surprise to see their mother on her knees with Ivory sitting on the bed. At first only Sarah thought she understood what was happening, the others caught up quickly. Sarah believed that making ‘it’ wet allowed for an easier entrance, so they were all mesmerised by the sight of Mrs Gilmurray sliding her face up and down on his erection (the first any had seen) to the man’s evident delight.

Carol Gilmurray had never seen a man’s penis either. All her sex had been in the dark, in bed, under the covers, with her nightdress either pulled or pushed up to enable access. The man – her husband – then pushed in and thrust back and forth until he was satisfied. She was aware of the principle of orally satisfying a man, her mother had described the action on the day before her wedding. Her mother had described it in complex and disgusting detail deliberately to shock her sweet young daughter; she was jealous of her daughter having better looks than her and had determined to take the sheen off the marriage by explaining the extended duties of a wife. She had described anal sex too, though she herself had never allowed or entertained the possibility. Where she got the knowledge was never made clear.