Chapter 30: The Big Redhead

"Oh gad, oh please, oh lor, no no, oh my god, oh, oh, oh no, oh yes, yes God, oh yes," the girl gasped out like a bellows, never quiet. Every time I drove my ram into her tight and fiery quim, she exhaled a loud prayer of some sort. I arched up on fully extended arms and tried to smile down at her as she writhed beneath me, undulating like some sort of sea creature and sobbing out her litany. Her legs were crossed high on my back and her hands clawed at my shoulders. We shook the bed and tried the complaining rope's strength.

"Shall I stop?" I asked very very quietly as I held my thick spear fully extended within her, lust heated and gritting my teeth, enjoying the sense of her filled cavity massaging its jerking invader.

"No, no," she sighed, "no, please. More. Deeper. Harder!"

Rocking from side to side and heaving with my hips and butt, I rammed her long and hard, and she finally collapsed beneath me, spent and soft, a lovely young woman who had done her very best to deceive me.

"I really do have a message for you," she said when her mouth was free of mine.

"So Madam did not send you to be pleasured, did she?"

She shook her head and smiled.

"No, but I'm glad I fooled you."

I drew it halfway from her dripping slit and then grinned and thrust it again into her. She arched and squealed.

"The army, ah - that's wonderful - the army wants you to go to a town, oh God, a town; it's written down. An emergency they said. Don't stop, please, please." She rocked her head from side to side, eyes closed as I enjoyed her.

She came again and went suddenly limp. I withdrew, curious and satisfied. Lying beside her while she mewled and her groin oozed our fluids, I cupped my emptied stones, popped open the orders and read quickly through them. A nearby town had come under patriot control and complaints about the soldiers, militiamen I was sure, were being heard. I was to investigate at once. One of Washington's adjutants and my captain had signed.

I turned and nibbled the girl's left nipple. "Had enough?" I asked, after one long, final lap.

She nodded, licking her bruised lips.

So I rolled out, dressed and hurried out to the stable. By the time the sun was high, I was some twenty miles away and on the outskirts of Millersburg, a village of decent size in those days. All seemed very quiet. I dismounted, hobbled my mare and went scouting.

A few dogs prowled the empty lanes; chickens and ducks made the usual noises; the breeze whispered, and then a woman screamed. Her cry was cut off and quiet returned. The outcry has raised the hair on the back of my neck; it was a pained and desperate howl.

From beside an outbuilding, likely a chicken coop, a redheaded woman in a long, wide skirt appeared. She looked about quickly and then ran for the woods, her long legs flashing as she raised her hem and bent her back, her white shirt billowing. I quickly moved to intercept her.

She ran right into my arms, puffing hard. She struggled and spat when I held her. She was a large and fine looking young woman, I guessed twenty perhaps, and a good ten stone, full bodied and mad as hell.

"Let me go, y'big bully," she cried, kicking at my shins and clawing at my face, "you'll not swive me."

"Calm down, little one," I told her, hoisting her to my shoulder and whopping her broad ass, firm as any ham. I hauled her deeper into the woods and sat her down beside a big oak. I offered her my canteen and she brushed it aside, pulling her skirt between her knees and scowling. Her workaday shirt had been torn from one muscular shoulder and gaped open to display a proud and upright pair of white breasts, red-tipped and youthfully firm, closer to quart than pint-sized. She saw where I was looking and pulled her bodice together in her fist.

I sat beside her and drank and then handed her the canteen. She drank and slopped water down her front, right down where I wanted to go.

"You're not one of them," she said, after taking a deep breath.

"No," I told her and then introduced myself as a Continental from Maryland.

"Mary Ellen Graves," she said, offering me her hand and letting a big boob fall free. Both were hard and strong. She smiled at me, showing a fine set of teeth and sparkling green eyes. My palms itched. Her tit swelled.

"What's going on?" I asked, pushing my swelling prod down my leg.

"Militia," she said, "foul bunch, came here about a week ago."

I waited while she paused and looked down, seemingly embarrassed.

"They ran our men off, killed some, two or three, hanged the mayor, poor man, made the old men and women take the children and skedaddle."

She took a deep breath.

"Then they got us, the younger women, eight of us," she swallowed and looked away, "they got us into the church, and they've been raping us ever since, every day, over and over." She fell into my arms, sobbing. I held her and patted her heaving back.

"How many?" I asked.

"Don' know," she sobbed. "Don' know." She sniffed and wriggled free, pulling her torn shirt back together. "Maybe a score, about that. Leader's called Colonel Broad." She shuddered. "He's done me five times I know."

I raked my fingers through her wild hair and made her look up. Then I kissed her gently, and she kissed me back warmly.

"Tell me about what they do? What's their routine?"

She nodded and wiped at her eyes. "They go out foraging, most of them, ever morning. There's only two or three here now."

A screech interrupted us, and the girl in my arm shivered.

"That's little Molly," she said. "They bugger her. She's barely thirteen, too small to roger I suppose. She yells like that every time. I think it pleases them."

"Only three guards?"

She nodded. "But we're bound and two are always watching, front and back."

"How did you get away?"

She smiled. "Went to the privy; the other guard was too lazy to follow since he was pawing a woman. So I ran. See, there he is, looking for me." She pointed.

I wished I had a rifle instead of a musket. "Only three?" I said.

She nodded. "But the rest'll be back shortly. They take turns on us."

"Let's go do it then," I said. "You game?"

She grimaced. "Of course."

I primed my musket and handed her my big bayonet. "You lead," I suggested. I followed her as she zig-zagged back toward the church, using all the cover there was and avoiding open spaces. When we were beside the clapboard chapel, she leaned back, puffing, her open shirt forgotten. I slipped a hand around her full breast, squeezed up her big nipple and pulled her mouth to mine. She did not pull away but kept her eyes open.

I went in the front while she headed for a side door. I clubbed down the guard sitting on the steps and fooling with his pipe, stepped into the gloom and found myself face to face with a bearded man. He yanked out a big pistol as he yelled in alarm, and I fired upwards at very close range, blowing the top off his skull and spraying the place with blood and brains.

At the front of the church a man cried out. I ran down the aisle and found the redhead straddling a militiaman and plunging my big blade into this back repeatedly, both hands on the thick handle. I pulled her away and together we freed the other women.