Chapter 5: Hung

In the officers' quarters hall, a very large room with both an inside and an outside balcony, we stood barefoot before the Redcoat captain's desk, our hands tied behind us. We had been waiting there for more than an hour before he showed up again, obviously from a party of some sort where he had been doing a lot of drinking. The smell came into the big room with him, and he was a bit unsteady on his feet, his face flushed.

He sat down carefully and, after a bit, looked up from his papers. and scratched at his small mustache. "Where were we, ah, here it is, a sergeant and two of his men are missing. Good, valued men, they tell me," he said. "And these seem to be their boots and great coats." He glanced at the pile of clothes beside the desk. "Where are they?" He looked at the girl and then at me. He was a tidy man who appeared impatient, tapping his fingers, his mouth a thin line.

"In the river," I said. "They were raping this woman, taking turns on her, and I stopped them the only way I could."

I told him my name and said, "I'm a tinker. Trenton's on my rounds."

"Are you now? And where were you planning to go in your little boat when I met you this evening, tinker?"

"Down stream," I said, "To sell them boots and coats. Get a good price."

"And their weapons as well, the sergeant's hanger, eh?"

"Right." I put on as stupid a look and sound as I could manage. "Bring a fair price, they would, maybe ten pounds, silver."

"Speaking of silver, this is quite a heavy purse the young lady had."

"All hers, far as I know. She's got nothing to do with this besides that your men was jumping on her, screwin' her, back there in her cabin, poking her ass an' smashing her face. I was jus' taking her out of here."

"Whoring must pay well," the officer said. He stood, came around his table, picked up his heavy, tan gloves, gauntlets I guess they are called, and hit me in the face, back and forth, four times with loud cracking sounds, like pistol shots. I actually saw stars, at least flashes of bright lights.

Then he took a step to the side and hit Susan in the face twice, more loud cracks. He was puffing when he finished. I glanced sideways at her and saw that her swollen eye was oozing some and her nose was bleeding. I tasted blood and felt around with my tongue for loose teeth.

"You are both liars," he cried shrilly. "And spies. I'm going to hang you both after, after, hm. Well, we'll see. Perhaps I'll have you shot. I have much better things to do tonight." He rang a small bell on his desk and a fat German officer appeared in his shirt sleeves and clicked his heels. "Have these two strung up, right here where it won't spoil the parties, Lieutenant. Her hands in front, his behind. Keep your breeches buttoned, man."

Four German soldiers appeared, straightening out their uniforms and clearing their throats. They tossed two thick ropes over the ceiling rafters, retied Susan's hands before her and hoisted her just off the floor with her arms above her. They managed to paw her pretty thoroughly in the process and expose one of her breasts. If she stretched she could stop her movement with her toes. They pulled me up the same way, but with my arms still behind me. It hurt like hell, and I wished I was a lot lighter. I rotated slowly left and right, a foot or so off the floor, bent at an odd angle.

The British officer turned to someone I could not see and said, "Give him twelve of your best, and I don't care where your put them." He sat down again and watched through slitted eyes, tapping his fingers impatiently.

The man with the bull whip stepped in front of me and smiled in my hanging face. He needed a shave and smelled of rum. I was obviously ruining his day off. He was at least my size, broader in the chest and thighs. He reached up and tore my shirt away and then grabbed my britches at the front and ripped them down so they hung from my knees, my flannel drawers tangled with them. He stepped back and smiled again, a wad of tobacco in his cheek. He shook out his long, heavy whip and took a deep breath.

The first lash hit me diagonally across the groin from right hip to left thigh and the second crossed that the other way, centered on my dangling yard. I had never felt such pain but hardly had time to consider it before he stepped behind me, and that pain was lost in sudden, new agonies. He laid two blows on the back on my legs and two more across my buttocks, making my body swing violently, my shoulders tearing.

I could hear him breathing hard and grunting with each swing of his arm. It was like getting hit with a piece of timber or an iron rod. The next bruising stripes cut into my lower back under my extended arms, almost pulling them loose. I heard the rafter I hung from creak in protest. Then he put two on my chest, one of which wrapped around my neck and felt like it was tearing my hide off, and two more across my stomach and belly, each blow drove me back a yard or more. "Twelve, sah," the sergeant said, his chest heaving, He straightened his scratch wig.

My body quivered, uncontrollable spasms coursed through various groups of injured muscles. I had bitten through my lip in two places and the blood ran down my chin. I could feel my shrunken member and injured cods swelling and throbbing.

"Now the woman," said the officer calmly. "Perhaps the cat for her."

"May break the skin. Doubt you want that, if you plan to let us have her later." From his cloth bag he shook out a long-handled whip with many, narrow lashes. "Got these leads knotted in, y'know, stingers like."

"Do your best," said the Redcoat, standing to examine the whip and then resuming his seat and steepling his small, clean hands before him. He smiled toward Susan and licked his thin lips. My shoulders screamed for relief. I saw only part of her whipping since I rotated slowly at the end of the heavy rope that was stretched over the rafter above me. Unfortunately I could hear it all.

The sergeant put his hand between Susan's plump breasts and tore her shift away. He rubbed her thigh and said, "Nice skin, very soft. We can get a lot of use out'a her, young as she are." Then he stood back and began whipping her, gently it appeared, letting the tails barely strike her before he pulled them quickly away. Each flick caused the girl to scream and left a series of narrow red lines on her pale skin.

Chapter 6 »