Chapter 20: Lula

There I was, tied to a post in a dirty barn, stripped bare to the waist and facing as nasty a crew as I had yet found. They did not give a damn about rebels and Tories or anything else. They wanted money and they had mine and hoped I would lead them to more since my purse had been heavy with blood money. I had at least one tooth that was loose, and my eyebrow was dripping blood. I worked on my knots, rubbing my hands up and down the rough post, failed to get the thick pole moving by pulling on it and had pretty well resigned myself to sleeping with my paws tied behind me and my knees up by my chin when a small girl appeared with a shuttered lanthorn in her hand. She had long, wild hair and was wearing a plain work dress. She was barefoot and smiling. little more than a child I thought at first.

"By damn," she said quietly, setting down her lamp and opening the small door so it shone on me, "them bastids wasn't lying."

She walked right up to me, her face about chest high, looked up and said, "I'm Lula." Then she opened my foreflap like it was a most ordinary thing to do, pulled out my limp member, caressed it gently and took its head in her warm mouth. She licked and sucked a bit while she kneaded my stones and scratched my stalk, glancing up at me from time to time and then holding my thighs tightly as my root grew and hardened. She was one fine cocksucker, and when it was hard, she grabbed my lance at its thick root with both hands while she tried to swallow the rest of it, gagging but still sucking.

When she was satisfied that I was thoroughly engorged but was not going to spew out my wad anytime soon, she found a milking stool, stepped up before me, swung her left leg above my hipbone and got my thick rod planted in her tight, nearly hairless cunny. Then she jumped up, swung her other leg above my hip and linked her ankles behind the post I was tied to. I looked down and watched my heavy-ridged shaft slowly sink into her as she held me about the neck and leaned back, gritting her teeth. It was a very tight fit.

She took a deep breath, sighed out, "'sblood," and bounced to and fro, rogering me to a fare thee well. When she came she battered her forehead on my chest, and when I came she clawed hard at my ribs but held tight until I was done swelling, jumping and ejaculating. Then she lowered herself to her stool, tucked my spent member out of sight, wiped her fingers on my britches, buttoned me up and stepped down.

"That was powerful good," she said, licking her lips. "You're a bloody bull, you are."

"How about untying me," I suggested, "we could do some better in a bed or over there in the straw."

"Cain't," she said, shaking her head and making her wild hair fly. "They'd kill me, that bunch. 'Sides they owns me. Uses me regular, they does, filthy pigs."

"You indentured?"

She nodded.

"Untie me and I'll set you loose, signed paper and all," I promised, looking very serious. "Then we can really do some swiving."

"How you gonna do that?" she demanded, hands on hips, head cocked to the side. "Jus' talk, that is."

"My problem," I said. "I'll do it or die trying."

"That won't do me no good," she said quietly, "but I would like to swive you again 'thout climbing you like a damn tree. That's the biggest and bes' thing I ever had in me, that horn a'yours."

"Lula!" somebody yelled from outside.

"Undo my hands," I pleaded, "Please, girl. Freedom!"

She hesitated and then quickly untied the knots between my hands as one of the cutthroats came into the barn, his musket held loosely in both hands.

"What 'chu doing over there? I needs me a good sucking," the man said, coming almost close enough to reach while I wriggled my wrists loose of the looped rope.

The girl backed up to stand at my elbow. "We was jus' takin'," she said. "Let's go back in that stall yonder, Jimmy."

I grabbed the back of his collar as he walked past, musket in one hand and crotch in the other, and I bashed his skull against the post, cracking it open at the side. He fell like a sack of grain, and I quickly undid my ankles and checked his weapon's load. I found my belt and knife where they had tossed them, put a handful of buckshot down atop his ball, reprimed, and asked the girl to call another of the men out to the barn.

She looked down at the dead man, sniffed, wiped her nose, and yelled, "Rufe, you best get out here. This big man's choking."

Rufe arrived at a trot and as soon as he came through he door, I smashed him down with the stock of my new musket and then pounded his face to pulp with the butt of the weapon. Two down and four to go, my mind said carefully as Rufe gurgled.

"Which one of those skunks holds your contract?" I asked the girl whose eyes were wide indeed as the dying man between us still kicked a bit.

"The black-haired one, Joseph," she said, "he's the leader I guess. He done bought me off'n the folks that had me for, oh, two years jus' about."

"How old are you?" I asked her, my hand on her skinny shoulder.

"Dunno," she said, "sixteen, I think. I'm 'dentured till I'm eighteen nohow."

"Lets go see if we can speed up the clock some." I kicked Rufe to make sure he was not going anywhere.

She nodded and followed me across the yard to the back door. Inside one man sat with his head down on the table, dead drunk I suppose. He was quickly just dead. As I drew my big knife out of his back he barely quivered. I clamped my bayonet onto my musket. Three more my calculating brain told me.

Joseph, a burly man of middle years, and two younger men were in the other room playing cards. I slid over to get an angle, yelled, "Joseph," and when he turned, I fired and charged. The load of buck and ball blew the other two men off their chairs and sent their leader tumbling to the floor with a shredded arm. I dispatched the one with a belly wound, kicked the other to make sure he was dead and then yanked the wounded man to his feet and smashed him in the groin with the musket.