Posted by Wilkinson Sword on June 22, 2004 at 16:42:01:
Vicki closed her eyes and lay there – still the beautiful dead nurse. Revulsion and hatred were building, growing inside her much the same as a balloon being inflated to the point of bursting. Each breath she heard the Sergeant taking made her want to want to vomit. Somehow she would find a way to get even with this filthy pig who lay panting next to her.
The Sergeant was suddenly pulled out of his reverie by high-pitched screams coming from the barn. “Damn assholes.” he muttered. “He rolled onto his side and cupped the dead girl’s breast in his hand. “Wait for me my angel, I may be back.” He laughed an evil chuckle, pinched Vicki’s nipple and ran his hand lightly down the side of her face.
Sargeant Tom rose then and hurriedly began to dress. Another shriek from the barn made him move even faster. One last quick glance at the beautiful Southern Belle laying on the floor and he bolted out the door.
Vicki let out a loud sigh of relief and began to wretch. Wave after wave of revulsion rising, being expelled from deep within her. The screams from the barn brought her back to reality. She HAD to do something! Picking up what was left of her dress she wiped the vomit from her mouth and the sticky liquid from between her legs. Then she pulled a skirt and blouse from the closet. While putting on the clothes she scanned the room for a weapon.
There it was; hanging on the wall was her father’s saber; the one he had when he fought in the Mexican War some years before. She stretched up and pulled down the shining weapon. It felt heavy yet somehow comfortable in her hands. Then it dawned on her. Just a couple weeks before her brother had been killed by the Yankees, the new Colt that he was going to receive for his birthday had arrived. The box had been put away, the gun never fired. She frantically searched all the drawers in the room. At last, she found it and opened up the box. There it was, a polished new Colt, balls, and a powder flask. She quickly loaded up the weapon the way her father had taught her years ago.
Anger and determination swelled up within her. The Colt loaded – she tucked it inside her skirt band, picked up the saber and headed out the door. Those Yankee devils would pay and pay dearly!!!!!
Sarge walked into the barn just as Maggie lout out another blood curdling scream. What the hell is going on in here?” Two of the girls were tied together with ropes around their necks, their hands bound behind them. The other, a fiery redhead was naked, her wrists tied and her arms pulled high above her head. Jimmy was standing in front of her with a hot branding iron in his hand.
“Oohhhhh, looky at the girly dance.” Jimmy glanced at Sarge and smiled wickedly.
Through her tears Maggie begged, “Please, please don’t do this. Don’t burn me. Don’t hurt me, I’ll do anything just please.”
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Jimmy shoved the hot iron right in front of her face. “Ahhhhhhh, now!” he hissed at her. Maggie pulled on the ropes holding her arms up, she screamed and danced around on her toes. Trying with all her might to pull away from the glowing iron.
Jimmy laughed again, that hideous cackle of his. He was a river rat boy from Portsmouth, Ohio; not very smart and loved to torture women just to hear them scream. He touched the hot rod to Maggie’s right breast. She shrieked for all that was in her pulling her feet completely up off the ground.
“Jimmy leave that girl alone!” Sarge bellowed. Sarge walked over to Maggie, licked his finger and touched the welt on her breast. Maggie pulled away weakly. She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes pleading. When Sarge stroked and squeezed her singed breast he noticed a change in the way she looked at him. Suddenly her eyes flashed, the fear and hurt melted away into Anger…deep seeded Anger!
Deborah burst out crying and screaming as she listened to Maggie’s breast sizzle beneath the touch of the hot iron. She wanted to run but the rope around her neck tightened when she tried to pull away from Billie Sue. Billie Sue gazed off deep into the barn so much in shock that she was seeing nothing. She had retreated deep inside herself but as Deborah pulled away from her a loud gag could be heard throughout the entire barn.
“You filthy Yankee scum!” Maggie cried out defiantly through her pain and spat at Sarge.
Sarge stood straight and tall in front of Maggie. Slowly and methodically he removed his handkerchief and wiped away the saliva from his face then took Maggie’s chin in his hand and squeezed her face hard, “Well little lady it looks like you want to die!” As he said those words he was pulling his saber from its scabbard. As quick as lightening and in a move rehearsed many, many times, his arm came forward, the saber sank deep into Maggie’s lower abdomen. Maggie’s mouth flew open in a silent scream as Sarge’s strong arm pulled violently upward on the saber, slicing her open – opening a huge gash from just above her pubic hairline all the way up to just below her sternum. Maggie’s eyes bulged from the immediate overwhelming pain. Then as if in slow motion her intestines began to fall out the gaping hole. The stench of blood and bile was over whelming. Maggie coughed a couple times, blood spewing from her mouth. The strength in her legs was gone and her head fell forward, her brown hair falling forward across her face. Maggie’s body spasmed then hung there still and silent, her entrails in a bloody, slimy pile at her feet.
As if to add insult to injury, Sarge wiped his bloody saber on her naked side then walked over to Deborah, lifted her already blood-stained apron and finished cleaning the blade on it. He turned and very calmly walked a few steps away and sat down on a bale of hay. “Gentlemen as you know our compatriots will be arriving shortly. You may do as you like with these other two fine Southern Belles.”
Jimmy was pacing back and forth in front of Maggie’s body. “
Sarge, why did you have to go and do that? I wanted to have some more fun with her I didn’t even get to fuck her. You know I like to burn um and grab the burned tits while I take um from behind!”
“Jimmy, shut up and go outside to see how far away the rest of the outfit is.” Jimmy looked at Sarge and started to say something but then thought better of it. He turned and headed toward the door.
Vicki crouched just out of sight behind a wagon bed. She was shocked at the horror and brutality she had just witnessed. When she heard Sarge order Jimmy outside she knew she had her chance to get one of these Yankee barbarians. Tightly she gripped the saber she was carrying, gave it a little shake up and down feeling its weight. She was ready!
When Jimmy was out of site of the others and had just cleared the end of the wagon Vicki shot in motion. “Jimmy,” she called softly. Jimmy turned just as the glint from the saber flashed in his eyes. His body jerked back violently as the shiney blade sank deep in his chest, piercing completely through his heart. The last sight Jimmy ever saw was the determined look on the face of a Southern Belle.
Vicki withdrew the saber, grabbed Jimmy by his boots and dragged him behind the wagon out of sight. Although her legs and hands were trembling somehow the sweet taste of revenge gave her strength. As she dropped Jimmy’s legs, she said to herself, “Three more.” She went back to her spot behind the wagon where she watched and waited for her next opportunity.
Baker stepped forward. “Sarge, I want that one.” He pointed to Deborah. Look how good that rope looks on her.” Deborah saw he was talking about her. Her eyes flashed with fear and her heart began to pound loud and fast in her chest. Again she tried to pull away from the stoic Billie Sue.
Baker found several lengths of rope that were draped over the sides of one of the stalls. Out of one very long coil of rope he quickly, deftly fashioned a noose. He pulled the hook down that was suspended from a pulley and attached the noose tope to it. He smiled as his handiwork then turned toward Deborah. The lengths of rope in his left hand he ran the back of his right hand oh so lightly down the side of Deborah’s face. “Just relax darlin. I am not going to burn you or cut you. I am a kinder than that.”
Baker was indeed the kindest of the group. He was raised on a large and profitable dairy farm in New York. His family were also wine makers. His father was a deacon in the Lutheran Church and his mother was very active as well. Yes, his parents were so active that young Josiah Corey Baker, J.C. for short, was left to entertain himself often.
At a very young age J.C. realized he liked playing with rope and could frequently be found trying out some new knot. As J.C. grew his fantasies began to take over. At first he dreamt of binding girls his age; tying them tightly so that they were at his mercy. One day J.C. learned how to tie a noose. He tried slipping it over his own head and found it somehow comforting and exhilarating.
J.C.’s fantasies began to change. He pictured himself bound, hands tied tightly behind, and ankles drawn together, a noose tight around his neck pulling him up onto his toes while a beautiful lady had her way with him. Of course there was no one in his small town that would do those things for him.
Sexually frustrated, he left home to join the army. While he was in New York City he found a whore who understood his fantasy and agreed to do the things to him that he craved but only if he would do the same for her. The whore had him trussed tightly, arms behind, tied at the wrists and elbows, forcing his chest to stand out, his ankles tied tightly together. A noose of rough hemp was tight around his neck and he was pulled up to his very tiptoes. His strong neck muscles stood out as he strained to breathe and keep his balance. The touch of her warm lips and tongue on his swollen and throbbing penis sent him into an orgasm of unimaginable magnitude. His cum shot onto the whore’s face, drenching her in the pearly white liquid.
After the bindings were removed J.C. felt a contentment he had never known before. But now it was his turn to attend to the needs of the whore. Thinking back, he remembered everything he did to her and was now going to do to Deborah.
J.C turned her away from him. Her wrists were already tied but he wanted to bind her elbows together forcing her firm young breasts to raise and stand out. Deborah groaned from the pain in her shoulders. J.C. took out his knife and slowly, carefully cut away Deborah’s clothes then he took out another length of rope and tied it very tightly around her waist so that it was cutting into her delicate skin. The ends of the rope were then brought up and over her shoulders from the back criss-crossed them between her breasts then brought down between her legs and pulled tightly so that the rough hemp pressed hard against her mound and firmly against her clit. The rope was finally tied off to her already cold hands.
Sarge, although fascinated by Baker’s ropework was becoming impatient and somewhat concerned about the proximity of the advancing troops. “Get on with it Baker!” he commanded.
Baker did not respond to Sarge’s order but instead gently removed the rope holding the 2 girls together from around Deborah’s neck. He kissed her lightly on the top of her shoulder then turned her to face him. His eyes were very pale blue, so intense, almost hypnotizing. He placed his hands on either side of Deborah’s face and kissed her softly, his warm lips pressed firmly against hers. He did not try to force his tongue into her mouth. He lot go of her face and quickly scooped her up into his arms carrying her to where the noose waited, suspended from the pulley above. He pulled the noose down and as he slipped it over Deborah’s head he whispered in her ear. “It’ll be all right darlin. I’ll take care of you. Will you trust me?”
From Vicki’s vantage point behind the wagon she could not understand why Deborah was not trying to fight back. What she could not see was the way Deborah and J.C. were looking at each other. Deborah’s focus was locked on those intense blue eyes. Finally she answered J.C with a breathy whisper. “YES”
J.C. pulled the rope tight around her pale throat, careful to position the knot just in front of her right ear. He then reached up as high as he could, taking hold of the rope and wrapping it around his wrist. He began to slowly, very slowly pull down on the rope. Deborah found herself being pulled up to the tips of her toes. J.C. moved in closer behind her and began to kiss her ear lobes, her neck and the tops of her shoulders. His left hand went around her body and began to fondle her breast, cupping it in his hand. His forefinger very lightly and very quickly brushed back and forth over her nipple.
Deborah sucked in a deep raspy breath. She tried to swallow but that was nearly impossible. J.C.’s finger on her nipple sent little impulses of delight through her body. Her mouth was now open both from pleasure and from the tightening rope around her neck.
J.C. pulled down on the rope once more. Deborah’s toes were barely brushing the ground now. She was stretching and straining with all her might to find purchase but she could not press against he ground enough to lift herself up. J. C. spun her around to face him. She gagged loudly, her breaths coming in short raspy gasps at best, then the noose slipped tighter. Her breathing was almost completely cut off, her ears roared loudly and the sound of her own pulse was like a bass drum. Her mouth was wide open now and her tongue was quickly swelling. The pressure behind her eyes was so great that they began to bulge as well. Deborah tried to speak to beg this man to let her down but now sound would come out.
J.C tied off the rope, leaving Deborah dancing on air. He moved his left hand and his forefinger found Deborah’s already throbbing clit. Her hips began to rock instinctively back and forth and her legs spread so that J.C. could more easily reach her now aching vault of womanhood. Though her lungs were burning and her neck felt as if there was a hot band of steel around it, Deborah began to feel an orgasm building deep within her. She was weakening and her vision was beginning to darken. Bright red specks of light were flashing before her eyes. Suddenly it hit her – the building orgasm exploded within her like the fireworks on the Fourth of July. Her eyes rolled up in her head and her body began to convulse; her legs pulled up and down. Still J.C. continued on with his finger. It was the most magnificent feeling Deborah had ever experienced. As quickly as her orgasm had come it was over now. As she was about to slip into unconsciousness she was in a sort of warm euphoric place, suspended somewhere between life and death.
J.C.’s eyes were fixed on Deborah’s as he watched them change first from fear, then pain, to pleasure then to ecstasy. He watched them bulge and water, the tiny blood vessels bursting from the pressure. Finally, he watched them as the life drained from them. Deborah’s body first hung limply then it began to tremble and violently convulse. Then she swayed lifeless at the end of the rope except for the occasional twitch.
J.C. moved in behind Deborah and inserted his engorged, throbbing cock into the still very warm body of the dead girl. He held tightly to her hips as he controlled their movements. He let out a low animal-like growl as his excitement peaked and he filled Deborah with his seed. He pulled her tight against him and held her there. In his mind he was repeating what he had done with the only woman who had ever satisfied his own needs. She had asked him that day to take her life; to let her hang until dead and then make love to her dead body. So in J.C. Baker’s mind this was the only way to treat a lady. J.C. released Deborah, then tenderly cut down her body and lay it on a blanket on the bale of hay. He untied her arms and placed them on her chest. Then wrapped the blanket around her body, kissed tenderly her on the forehead and walked away.
Vicki could not believe what she had just witnessed. Deborah had essentially given her life to this Yankee dog. But at least she would say this for him. He treated her with dignity, not like Sarge and Jimmy.
“God Damn that Jimmy. I told him to go see how far away the troops are and he hasn’t come back yet.”
Baker spoke up, his voice almost sad. “I’ll go see where he is. I need some fresh air anyway.”
Once again Vicki was ready for the Yankee, only this time she was almost hesitant. This Yankee seemed somehow to care …… but… he had just hung Deborah and for that he would pay and pay with his life! Vicki pulled out the gun…..and waited.
As Baker walked past the end of the wagon, once again Vicki called out softly, “Hey, Baker.” When he turned to look in her direction she grabbed him and shoved the gun beneath his chin. “Don’t say a word!