Chapter 4
OSWEGO-JUNE, 1777
"Just act normally, Darling." Robin had said at noon. "Go about your shopping as usual. But when you get to Axel's, ask him to show you some gown material. When you get him out of earshot of the other clients, tell him we're leaving tonight, and I want all of the material and supplies at the staging area by nightfall."
Trying to appear more unconcerned than she actually felt, the tall American blonde made her way carefully down the muddy main street, stepping back to avoid the splashing that came from the various horsemen-mostly military men-as they rode by.
Axel's mercantile store was located at the intersection of the two main streets that meet next to the harbor. The intersection was blocked by a huge infantry wagon which had gotten bogged down right in the middle of the street as it was unloaded from a Lake Ontario barge. A cursing German driver was flailing his whip at the struggling, screaming horses. The wagon, Elizabeth noted, was loaded with about two dozen brilliantly uniformed Hussars. A group of rough looking Dragoons mounted on horseback and led by a bored looking officer, were shouting insults at the driver, their comments raising ribald laughter from the Hussars. Four artillery pieces drawn by horses were also held up by the blockage in the street. Here and there, their dark faces completely blank of expression, were groups of Indians also on horseback and afoot. All of the savages were armed, all bore the insignia and trappings of Lieutenant Colonel Barry St. Leger's native mercenaries. Even a woman, unused to the military, could see that the entire city was on a war footing. The wharves were stacked with military supplies, and there was an urgency that could be felt in the humid air.
Elizabeth ignored a rude suggestive comment from one of the dragoons and pushed open the doors leading to Axel's mercantile. Although from the outside it looked nothing more than a roughhewn log-cabin, the insides definitely were that of a store ... and a well-stocked and prosperous one, at that.
Slowly, she made her way through the milling crowd of men and women, looking for the giant German. She found him near the back of the store solemnly nodding his approval as a dirty, bearded hunter and an Indian tried on opera hats. Both customers seemed inordinately pleased with their appearance in the silvered mirror, both paid for the hats with gold sovereigns.
Axel looked almost startled when he saw her, but his expression quickly became hidden again. "Madame. May I be of service?" his voice boomed.
"I'l like to look at some gown material," she replied.
"I have only the finest. Arrived just this morning from France, Madame. With the war, there may not be another shipment half so fine for a long time." He led the way to a large wooden table piled high with colorful bolts of cloth, and unrolled about two yards of a yellow silk, holding it up against her cheek. "It becomes you, Madame."
Then his voice lowered to a whisper. "What are you doing here, Elizabeth? Didn't you get my message?"
A jolt of fear shot through the young American wife.
"I sent Timmy to warn you. St. Leger's men picked up Stanton last night. Drew said he could hear the screaming coming from the cells; I've no doubt they tortured him. He may have told everything. You've got to get out."
"That's why I'm here. We're leaving tonight. Robin wants the supplies at the staging area at nightfall."
"Go now. Don't wait for tonight. Get out of town immediately. I'll see the materials reach you." His whispers deepened. "Just go. Now." Then his voice boomed out, "Well, Madame, I hope the material is still here when you reach a decision."
"Good day," she said.
"Good day." Axel watched the voluptuous blonde girl walk out of his store. He admired her; even frightened, as he knew she was at the moment, she looked completely composed. He hadn't let her know the depth of his own concern. His store had been started from the mud up, and in twenty years he had built a fine clientele and was rapidly becoming wealthy. But if St. Leger knew of his involvement with the American patriots, it would be the end of everything ... and, undoubtedly, his life as well. Somehow, someway, he must find out if Stanton had talked under torture. If the older man had cracked, then he would have to flee along with the Burtons.
Elizabeth's heart was pounding as she walked back to the cabin which she and Robin had called home for the last four months. The humidity was growing stronger as the sun sucked more moisture up off the lake. In the west, gray-black thunderheads were beginning to pile up. The air was still, completely so. And the street?
Suddenly it hit her. The street was too silent. Usually there were Indians wandering about and neighbors working in their small gardens. The only sign of life was a chicken that clucked softly as it scratched the ground inside a wire enclosure.
Instinctively she knew there was danger. Her heart was pounding furiously now, pumping even more adrenaline into her blood supply. She forced herself to walk casually, fought the impulse to run. Her throat was dry, her knees rubbery with fright.
The violence, when it came, hit with all the suddenness of a rattlesnake.
In front of her, she saw a figure dart out between two buildings. Timmy! His hands were tied behind him.
"Go back, Elizabeth. Run." he shouted, his voice gurgled off in a scream as a dragoon ran forward and shoved his bayonet into the youth's back.
Elizabeth had started to turn when she heard the thunder of hooves behind her. Five light infantrymen, led by a British officer, galloped down upon her. She turned back toward her own cabin, but the street in front of her was filled with a squad of dragoons on foot, their muskets levelled at her. In front of them, she could see Timmy lying face down lifelessly in the mud.
The horsemen reined up in back of her, and the officer dismounted. "You are the Burton woman?" he demanded.
Her eyes wide with shock from all that had happened, Elizabeth could only nod her head.
"You will come with me." He jerked his head toward one of the infantrymen who dismounted with a short rope and quickly looped it over her wrists, tying her hands in front of her.
"I ... I don't understand," she stammered.
"Don't play me for the fool. You're a spy. Your husband's a spy." The officer remounted and yelled down the street. "Get that body out of here." He wheeled his horse around and started back toward the military compound.
Elizabeth, fighting tears, was forced to walk with her hands in front of her, being led by a rope tied to the cantle on the infantryman's saddle. It was evident that the sadistically grinning soldier was deliberately forcing her to walk through the deepest mud and through as much horse manure as he could find; her green velvet skirt was brown and splattered to the knees before they had gone a hundred yards. She flinched, stumbled, and almost fell when a toothless older woman threw a mud ball, hitting her on the right breast and soiling her silk blouse. The old crone screamed, "Scum. Filthy spy!"
By the time they arrived at the military compound about ten minutes later, Elizabeth had been struck at least four or five times more ... once with an egg, another with a rotten tomato ... and had been subjected to the vilest of verbal abuse. The only thing that kept her from breaking out in tears from the shouted insults was the fear-like an icy squeezing hand-that clutched her heart as she wondered what had happened to Robin.
The troops reined up in front of the command tent, and the mud-splattered Elizabeth was shoved in through the opening. It took a moment for her eyes to become accustomed to the dimness after the brilliant sunlight outside, then she saw three men sitting at a long table. Soon she was able to make out their uniforms. Two were Hessians, the man in the middle was Lieutenant Colonel Barry St. Leger, the British commander of the area.
The Hessian sitting at St. Leger's right had a lewd smile of anticipation on his thin lips as he inspected her body. Involuntarily, Elizabeth found herself shrinking. There was something almost reptilian about him with his completely bald head and beady, glittering eyes. He looked as if mercy was a word that did not exist in his vocabulary.
Colonel St. Leger spoke, his voice full of contempt and impatience. "Madame. You are under arrest for treason. I do not have the time to dally. I want to know the names of your entire group. Starting with your husband."
"Where is my husband?"
"He's dead now ... if he refused to talk ... or at least he's probably wishing he were dead."
"Oh no...." she shuddered. "Please? Where is he?"
"That's none of your business, Madame. Tell us what you know. Do it immediately."
Elizabeth stared at him, stunned and despairing. Was Robin really a captive? Maybe it was a trick. It was obvious St. Leger knew about them; probably poor Mr. Stanton had been tortured until he talked. And now they were torturing Robin, if she were to believe the colonel.
St. Leger cracked his riding crop angrily across the top of the table, causing the papers to fly into the air. "Madame. I warned you. I do not have time to play little games. I am about to undertake a mission of supreme importance to the Empire. I shall crush the backbone of your rebellious militiamen, crush it as easily and as thoroughly as I would stomp on a beetle. Within two months, there will not be a single armed man anywhere in the western part of the United States. Resist me and the women will be given to my Indian commdes. This is the beginning of the end for the American insurrection. The choice is simple: unconditional surrender, or death."
He paused, breathing heavily, then his eyebrows came together, and he said. "I ask you one last time. Who are the members of your spy group?"
Elizabeth was amazed at the arrogance of the man. He was even more boastful than that talkative fool, Burgoyne, had been. Burgoyne had the superficial trappings of a gentleman, however, St. Leger had none of his charm or wit or humanity. This man had obviously been in the frontier too long. Her fear was being replaced by determination. If Robin was dead, then there was nothing left for her to live for anyway. So let them kill her. She took a deep breath, threw back her shoulders, and said haughtily, "I think you are not only an arrogant fool, but an inept liar as well, Colonel."
The Hessian officer who had been inspecting her so lewdly hissed in his breath, almost in delight, at this show of resistance. His eyes were burning with excitement as he awaited the angry colonel's reply to the insult.
St. Leger stared at her coldly for a moment, tapping his fingernails on the table. Finally he rose. "I told you I had no time, Madame. I do not ordinarily condone torture of women. However, you must be made to talk. Captain Hauptmann here," he turned and bowed to the bald-headed Hessian. "And Lieutenant Jocheim at my right," he touched the second German on the shoulder. "They will interrogate you, Madame ... and may God have pity upon your soul."
The colonel picked up his riding crop and walked around the table. "Your last chance on earth, Madame."
"Where's my husband?"
St. Leger sighed, then looked over toward Captain Hauptmann. "Conceivably there could be ... ah ... political repercussions from Lord Burton. I suggest you ... ah ... extract the information we need. When you are completed with your interrogation, give her to Chief Wahadanega. I promised him a surprise." He looked back at her, then smiled humorously and made a little bow. "Goodbye, Madame. Your rebel cause is not worth it, and you will come to realize it before the end ... but it will be too late then."
St. Leger left the tent, and Elizabeth watched-like a trapped and helpless bird before an approaching snake-Captain Hauptmann and Lieutenant Jocheim slowly rise to their feet. Although she did not fear death, the expressions on their cruel implacable faces made her more frightened than she had ever been before.
Slowly Hauptmann came around the table toward her. His nose crinkled in disgust as he saw the horse manure on her skirt and the filth of her blouse. "You Americans are all dirty." He turned toward the Lieutenant. "Aren't all Americans dirty?"
"Jah! But not so bad as the savages."
Hauptmann clucked and shook his head sadly, "I'm surprised at you Jocheim. You should not insult our fighting comrades. Where would poor Lieutenant Colonel St. Leger be without them?"
He laughed and Elizabeth was completely unprepared for his hand abruptly reaching out and squeezing her left breast. "Now, Frau Burton. You will speak."
"I won't," she said, shaking her head adamantly, causing her long blonde hair to swing from breast to breast. "Go ahead and kill me, you beasts."
"She is stubborn, Jocheim. We must take her someplace where we can talk uninterrupted. The cells can't be used again because too many people are complaining about the old man's screams last night. We mustn't get a bad reputation." He laughed again, and Elizabeth shuddered in spite of herself at the cruelty she heard in his voice.
"There is the barge," the Lieutenant said softly. "It might be amusing...."
"Of course. How wonderful that you should think of the barge." He nodded his head sharply, then both men grabbed the young American girl and pulled her out the door. They walked across the marshalling yards to a wooden wharf that went about fifty feet out into the lake. At the end of the wharf, they pushed her roughly into the bottom of a boat. A moment later they were rowing out to a large, flat-bottomed barge which floated about 300 yards from shore. In the distance, there was the muted sound of thunder, and the thunderhead which had become almost brown in color now filled half of the sky, towering over the lake as though they were about to fall down upon their heads. Lightning, like a snake's tongue, flickered all around the western horizon. The air was motionless, the water a sickly gray.
The only people on board the barge were about twenty Hessians and a tall, powerful looking Indian who sat alone from the others on the other side of the vessel. There were whoops of delight when Hauptmann told his men they could all go ashore. As they piled into the boat, each of them gazed speculatively and with lewd interest at the young blonde girl who had been brought on board with her hands tied in front of her.
"You can go to, if you wish, Chief Wahadanega," the Captain said to the Indian.
"I stay. Storm come."
A second later the boat had cast adrift from the barge and the Hessians were rapidly rowing toward shore and the rum rations they knew awaited them there.
Elizabeth was shoved forward, through a door leading into a darkened cabin. The heat in the place was intolerable, she doubted that anyone could last long in the stifling atmosphere without fainting.
There was the warm stench of urine and feces in the room, so strong that she felt as though she were about to vomit. There was a scratch of a match behind her, then an oil lamp flickered into life. As the rays of light spread out, Elizabeth could make out some of the details of the cabin. Then she gasped in horror as she saw a man chained to the wall; he was slumped forward, apparently lifeless, his arms being held up in back of him by the chains. He was in a dark puddle of blood, urine and his own excrement, his shirt was ripped open revealing huge burn wounds on the chest. There were bloody pockets where his thumb nails had once been and the fingers of his hand looked as if they had been snapped backward. She heard Jocheim giggle strangely behind her, then the Lieutenant was holding up the lamp so she could better the bloody battered face.
Her scream of anguish echoed throughout the room. "Robin ... oh my God in heaven ... Robin." She started forward to him, but was tripped by Hauptmann, and she fell heavily to the rough decking.
"That, Frau Burton, is what happens to stupid people who do not talk when we ask them to speak. That will happen to you as well, and your screams will be heard by no one." He raised her to her feet again, and his expression was now one of almost fatherly concern. "You must speak, Frau Burton."
The young American blonde was shuddering now, the after-effects of the horrible shock she had received. Her mind was churning. His threats made no difference to her; she was not the least bit frightened. Her only concern was her husband. Was he still alive. Was he already dead? Oh God, Oh God, she prayed, please let him live.
Captain Hauptmann watched the display of emotion run across her beautiful features. Although the townspeople had thrown mud and rotten fruit at her face, she was beautiful. It was really too bad that there wasn't enough time to tame her properly, to teach her to appreciate the whip, to cringe like a trained dog at his approach and do his every bidding. But, he sighed, there simply isn't time. Still, though, there was still time to have his way with her before he gave her to that savage outside. The poor bitch would probably wind up with a tomahawk buried in her skull just as that girl with Burgoyne's troops had a week ago.
Hauptmann pulled a silk handkerchief out of his britches and dipped into a bucket of water on a chair. He carefully wrung it out and then, using surprisingly gentle motions, he began washing her face clean.
Elizabeth patiently bore his ministrations, shivering only once when he rubbed the wet cloth over the top of her breasts.
Finally, unable to bear her own personal torment any more, she asked, "Is ... is my husband still alive?"
Hauptmann shrugged, uncaring.
Slowly she was putting it all together. The brutal Hessian had said that was what happened to people who didn't talk. Robin had remained silent. So would she ... that was the least she could do.
She stared at her husband in chains. She couldn't detect any breathing from this distance. Oh God! He was dead! The pain in her throat brought hot scalding tears to her eyes and they began trickling down her cheeks. There was a fierce pride in her voice as she turned to Hauptmann; "He didn't talk, did he?"
The Hessian officer's expression told her all she wanted to know. Even as she stared at him, his eyes became veiled with a growing anger ... and something else. He was smiling again as he nodded to Jocheim, "Build the fire again. I want to see what happens when the fire brands are put on these wonderfully pretty breasts here!" The last was a insane scream as he reached out and ripped her blouse and chemise off with one swipe of his hand. The tattered pieces of the silk blouse and chemise hung in two strips down from her waist.
Jocheim's eyes glittered with lewd delight as he saw the proudly uplifted breasts of the trembling American girl. They were as exquisitely moulded as a carrera marble by Michelangelo, and their alabaster glow from the lamp light made his mouth water. What a shame to scar those, he thought, to burn them until the flesh blackened and bubbled and charred away.
Hauptmann seemed almost mesmerized by her lushly ripened breasts as well. There was a drool of spittle coming from the corner of his thin lips as he reached out and cupped the heavy mound in his palm, lifting it slightly as though he were weighing it.
Elizabeth could feel the damp heat of his palm on her breasts, could feel the excited trembling of his fingers. She was positive he was going to hurt her by squeezing again, and she steeled herself for the agony to come, but instead all he did was weigh her other breast and hiss, "The fire, Jocheim. The fire. We ... we ... mustn't keep these little pretties waiting." His breath had started coming in pants, and his fingers were trembling violently as he caressed the soft warm flesh and used his thumb and forefinger to tweak the nipples.
Elizabeth stoically bore his unwanted attentions. There was nothing she could do. She was resigned to die without giving this vile beast the satisfaction of seeing her spirit broken. In her mind, she supposed she had already died ... died with Robin. She would no longer fight them, and she prayed for the strength to keep from screaming when the real torture began.
Even with this resolve, however, she found herself trembling violently as Captain Hauptmann's hot sweaty hands unfastened her skirt waist and tugged it and her pantaloons down over her flaring hips and down her legs.
Jocheim watched, not breathing, as the sensually ripened body of the girl was unclothed. He saw the green velvet skirt dropping to her knees, then puddling around her boots ... saw Captain Hauptmann gently lift her right foot, as though to release the skirt. He kicked it away under a bunk and stood back to admire his work.
The proud, though obviously frightened American girl was completely naked except for her lace-up, high heel boots which came to just below the knee. Jocheim knew he had never seen a woman quite as sensually attractive as this one. His hot hungry gaze moved up from the boots to her firm young thighs, to the softly curling hairs covering her vaginal mound, to her tautly rounded belly, to her rich full breasts, long slender neck and lips ... those lips, wetly parted and trembling in fear now, making her even more exciting. His only desire was to stick his insanely throbbing cock up inside that perfect body. He wanted to do it before the Captain disfigured it.
"The fire ... the fire," Hauptmann panted.
Although he had "punished" several women in his life time, this one was beyond a doubt the most beautiful. There was an essential helplessness about her at the moment that brought out long hidden devils in his soul. She would scream ... oh how she would scream and babble. It would be necessary, of course, to let Chief Wahadanega fuck her before the ceremony went too far, but the final moment would be his-no matter what the Chief or that pompous British jackass St. Leger said. That final moment ... a friend in Hamburg had whispered about it to him one night twenty years ago, but Hauptmann had always been afraid. His friend had said that a red hot poker fucked in and out of a woman's vagina would make her orgasm through the sheer agony alone. The sadistic thoughts brought an excruciating erection to the Hessian and the front of his breeches bulged outward in a bold outline of his long hard penis.
Elizabeth saw his growing excitement and she swayed, her naked breasts quivering, her nipples hardening. She stood perfectly still, with hands tied in front of her, as the brutal Hessian officer slowly stuck out his middle finger and slipped it into the secret flesh up between her legs. He watched her face closely, his eyes narrowing as he sought to detect some sign of revulsion or pleasure ... either would suffice.
Elizabeth felt his finger teasing her vaginal slit. She willed her mind to go numb, her abdomen to go numb, and she tensed her muscles willing them not to quiver or move in any manner.
"Ah so?" Hauptmann said, grinning knowingly. "You resist even this. Well, we shall see." He turned to the table and picked up his braided riding crop. He stared speculatively at the knobbed end of the thing, then held it at groin level and waggled it up and down a couple of times as though it were a twenty-inch cock. He had taken one step toward her when he heard a low moan from the wall.
Elizabeth heard the same thing and now her lovely face showed a genuine emotion: disbelief and hope. "Robin?" It was said softly, then in a cry of rapture, "Robin, darling. You're alive." She started to stumble toward him when Hauptmann cruelly grabbed her hair and yanked her back. He glanced into the corner again, and saw the American spy weakly trying to lift his head.
Well, the Hessian officer thought, this might be even more amusing. Perhaps he will speak now when he sees what is happening to his wife.
"Jocheim," he ordered. "Throw water on the fool. Wake him up. I want him to watch this."
The Lieutenant picked up the oaken bucket and threw its entire contents into Robin's battered face. The youth shuddered once, coughed, then lifted his head and peered at them through puffy eyes.
For a moment, Robin couldn't remember where he was or what had happened. Then, like a vision from one of the most horrible of nightmares, he saw his naked wife being held by the man who had tortured him into sensibility. "Elizabeth," he croaked, his voice a grotesque sound full of protest and pain.
Elizabeth struggled futilely against the powerful grip of the Hessian. Finally, she quieted and said, "Let him go. I'll tell you everything. Just let ... him go." She was whimpering now. What happened to her didn't matter, only that Robin lived and was set free.
"Noooooo," Robin groaned again, thrashing now against his chains. "Don't, Elizabeth. Don't betray us...."
Hauptmann shouted in rage. "Jocheim. Kill him."
"NO." Elizabeth screamed and then collapsed sobbing piteously. "Don't kill him."
Jocheim stared at his superior officer for instructions, and then pulled back, his gun at ready, as the Hessian officer shook his head.
"No," Hauptmann said, grinning sadistically. "No, let him live for a few more minutes. There's something I want him to see." His voice was rising and he began trembling as the sweat streamed down his face. "You turncoat Englishman, you son of an English whore. You are going to watch something that you will never forget. You are going to pay a million times for your refusal to talk. Your sweet little hausfrau is going to take my cock in her mouth. She will suck it until I fill her mouth with my seed. Then Lieutenant Jocheim will mount her like the mare in heat that she is. Then a savage, waiting outside on the deck, will take her from the rear. And you shall see what a whore she is for I swear to you she will love every second of it and she will be screaming in exaltation before we are finished."
As hate flooded his body, Robin's strength returned and he began struggling like a wild animal attempting to pull the chains out of the wall. Jocheim laughed at him, then stepped back uneasily as the American spy's violent lunges increased.
"On your knees, bitch," Hauptmann ordered.
"No ... I won't," she said.
"Jocheim. Shoot him."
The Lieutenant had just lifted the gun when Elizabeth screamed and dropped to her knees subserviently in front of the lewdly triumphant Captain.
"Wait, Jocheim," Hauptmann said, pleased. With fingers that were trembling so eagerly that he could hardly unfasten his britches, the Hessian officer reached inside his pants and withdrew his thick rigid cock. He stroked the foreskin back and forth several times, bringing the angrily swollen red tip closer to the American girl's full, sensuous lips. He turned to Jocheim. "If she should refuse to do exactly as she is told, shoot her husband without further orders from me."
"I understand, Captain."
Elizabeth, with a growing sense of dread, realized what was actually happening. She was to be humiliated in front of her husband; her humiliation would be additional shame for him. Yet, she knew that there was no power on earth that could prevent it from happening. Cooperate, at least in this, and perhaps a chance to escape might present itself. The best thing to do was accept her fate in order to keep Robin from being shot. She tried to turn her head and smile reassuringly at Robin, but the brutal Hauptmann snapped her head around to face him again.
"Open your mouth," he demanded.
"You inhuman monster," Robin shouted. "Don't do it, Elizabeth."
"Blow his head off."
"NO! Please, I'll do it," the nakedly kneeling girl cried. "I'll do it."
"I'll kill you for this, Hauptmann. I swear it." Robin hissed, feeling a black tide of despair washing over him as he watched the humiliation of his wife by the sadistic Hessian.
"Dead men kill no one," the Captain called back over his shoulder. "But enough, open your mouth." He stuck his excitedly throbbing cock head against the young wife's closed mouth. "Open. And suck it."
Outside there was a lightning flash that filled the dingy room with light, followed by an immediate clap of thunder.
"For the last time. Open your mouth, bitch."
She knew there was really nothing she could do but follow his lewd orders, so she hesitated only a second more. She was already fighting the waves of nausea that churned through her stomach. Now, as she licked her dry lips, she moved her subservient face closer. She saw the tiny blue and red veins just before the spongy tip of it was jerking impatiently against her tightly closed lips. Then, with a sudden feeling of hopelessness, she opened her mouth as wide as she could and slid her wetly heated mouth over the lust-swollen cock-head. Although her jaw ached from her stretched oral cavity, she still held it open while the Hessian officer slammed his hotly pulsating shaft forward, holding her head with both hands. Viciously, he buried his thickened prick inside her throat, all the way to the hilt, grinding his wiry pubic hairs against her upturned nose and chin.
Elizabeth tried to pull her mouth away so she could breathe, but Hauptmann only tightened his agonizing grip in her hair! She could feel the spongy bluntness of the cock-head coming to rest far down her throat, cutting off her breath as she tried to force it outward. She gagged and choked as he began grinding his hips back and forth, fucking in and out of her watering mouth with powerful strokes that jolted her brains.
Gloating in victory above her, the sadistic officer began undulating his pelvis even more, sliding his wetly glistening shaft in and out of her ovaled lips, never quite withdrawing, leaving the swollen head pulsing just inside the warm wet mouth, giving her only a second to breathe before ramming it into her spasming throat again.
The total helplessness of her situation caused Elizabeth to accept the cruel debasement with a fatalistic attitude. She closed her eyes tightly to block out the repulsive sight of his thick black pubic hair, and tears filled her eyes as she tasted the alien shaft buried deep in her throat.
The Hessian officer stared down with lewd delight at the widely rounded lips of the beautiful American girl; the sight of his massive cock fucking in and out of her red lips was unexpectedly driving him into a frenzy.
Jocheim was rubbing his penis through his britches. "Look at her go!"
"You dirty bastards," Robin groaned. "You dirty filthy bastards!"
Impatient at being interrupted, Hauptmann glared at the captive spy, and snapped, "Keep the son of a bitch quiet, even if you have to shoot him!"
"Uhhhhh ... uhhhhhhh...." Elizabeth gurgled, as her frantic eyes stared up at her captor. Oh God, she thought, don't let anything happen to Robin. I'll suck his cock ... do anything he wants, but please don't let them hurt my husband.
The Hessian officer began thrusting in and out of her wildly sucking lips, again, ignoring her silent pleas, and tangled his fingers momentarily in her long golden hair. He forced her soft sensuous mouth back and forth over his pulsating prick, and delighted in watching her tightly ovaled lips clasping tighter and tighter around his shaft as her warm oral cavity became accustomed to the unnatural invasion.
Elizabeth felt nothing any more. All her attention was concentrated on one thing only, and that was to make him cum ... to get his vile rape of her mouth over as soon as possible. She knew that he would reach an orgasm in her throat, and the thought caused her stomach to churn again. She silently prayed that she would not displease him and cause him to hurt her or Robin, but it wouldn't be easy!
"Suck," he hissed again.
She knew that he was telling her that she wasn't doing it right, and she tried to use her tongue to satisfy him. She didn't know what to do, but she licked and sucked with a fervor as the huge fleshy cock drove rhythmically back in her throat, and then, let her tongue tease at the bulbous head. She heard a low moan escape the officer's mouth and knew that she was exciting him. She was salivating so much now that the heavily sliding penis slithered in and out almost effortlessly. She sucked until her cheeks indented, puffed out, hollowed again; until her throat muscles became tortured agony. She licked around the tip, using her stiffened tongue, her teeth ... acting automatically now, knowing by his animal-like groans that he was reaching the apex of lust.
And with her concentrated desire to please the Hessian officer, Elizabeth gradually became aware that her own body was beginning to react sexually to this sadistic degradation. She could feel unexpected warmth inside her vagina; and the knowledge that her nakedly kneeling body was becoming aroused was more repulsive than the mental distress from the perverted act she was being forced to perform.
Hauptmann looked up and grinned as the door to the large cabin slowly opened and the huge Chief Wahadanega stepped in. When he caught sight of the obscene act taking place inside the cabin; he stopped completely still and his mouth gaped in surprise.
"Everything all right?" Hauptmann asked, his face a mask of lewd desire as he continued fucking in and out of her tightly rounded lips.
"A white man sneaking in, but I kill!" the Indian mumbled, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth's widely ovaled lips. Almost immediately, his own cock became long and hard, and the front of his bear-skin trousers bulged outward.
Robin had faced the door with new hope, praying that it would be one of his men, but now, all his optimism disappeared along with any expectation of help arriving before it was too late. He would like to know who the Indian had killed, but then, what difference did it make? They would all be dead very soon! His shoulders slouched in helplessness and he closed his eyes to shut out the horrible sight of Elizabeth's sweet young lips locked around the cruel Hessian's long hard cock. The pain was almost too much for him to bear.
"Chief Wahadanega," the officer rasped. "This white woman is a gift to you from the Colonel. He wants you to fuck her...." Hauptmann stopped thrusting his wetly glistening cock in and out of her soft warm mouth, then groaned lewdly. " ... wants you to fuck her asshole!"
"Ugh!" was the only sound from the grinning Indian as he jerked his penis from his filthy leather pants and dropped to his knees behind the kneeling woman. His lust-contorted face made him look like an idiot as spittle drooled from his open mouth. Quickly, he poised the head of his massive cock against her kneeling buttocks and slid it through her anal crevice.
"Tell me, Chief Wahadanega," the Hessian officer asked. "Does her asshole suit you?"
"Ugh! Too small!" the Indian frowned in evident confusion.
"Jocheim, get that goose grease over there and bring it here!"
The Lieutenant, looking envious, brought the can of grease to the Indian, then immediately stepped back to Robin and returned the musket to the chained husband's temple. Hauptmann punched the fingers of one hand in the can of grease while still holding Elizabeth's hair with the other one, and snapped at the kneeling Indian, "Get your horse-cock up here so I can oil it for you."
"Ugh!" Wahadanega grunted, and willingly jumped up in front of the Hessian officer.
When the savage's thick rigid penis was completely covered with the lubricant, the Indian returned to his position behind the young wife and knelt down again. He lifted her nakedly quivering ass-cheeks up higher, and pressed the swollen head of his greasy cock against her helpless little anus.
Elizabeth grimaced in pain as the pressure increased against her tightly puckering anal hole, her face a mask of pity for her young husband who was being forced to watch her cruel debasement. And then, as the thought took shape in her mind, her eyes widened in horror and she lost her composure completely. She whimpered piteously, unable to speak with Hauptmann's warmly pulsating penis embedded inside her throat.
Robin struggled against his bonds, an animal-like cry of pain wrenched from his lips as his face turned red from anger and frustration. He knew it was hopeless, but he couldn't sit by silently and allow this sodomy of his wife's virginal rectum to take place. His scream of rage caused the Lieutenant to jump in surprise, and the barrel of the musket scraped across his cheek, leaving a scratch, but it didn't stop the young husband from roaring out his defiance, "I'll kill you! I'll cut your balls off!"
"You will, will you," Jocheim asked, as he brought the musket barrel down against his face, splitting the skin of his cheekbone and leaving a bloody gash.
Robin could feel the blood streaming down his face and wished that the Hessian had knocked him out so he wouldn't have to see his wife's cruel rape. He tasted his own blood and wished that they had killed him!
The cruel Indian continued shoving his massively thickened penis against the small rubbery opening to the white woman's rectum, sadistically digging his fingers in her fleshy buttocks until Elizabeth thought she would pass out from the painful pressure. She held her breath as the hardened shaft slowly slipped through the sphincter muscle, and plunged halfway inside her forbidden anal hole. She cried out in pain and struggled against the brutal officer's relentless hold on her hair in an effort to escape the ravishing impalement. But with each wild lunge forward, she was slammed against the long hard cock buried inside her throat, and with each lunge backward, the Indian Chiefs monstrous shaft skewered deeper inside her tightly resisting rectum.
AAAAGGGHHHHH! AAAGGGHHHH! AAAGGGHHHHHH!" The groans of protest streamed from Elizabeth's cock-stuffed mouth as her strength faded and the oversized cock slipped unimpeded up into the warm rubbery depths of her rectum until his scrotum, taut with a load of semen, scraped tantalizingly against her sensitive vaginal lips.
Elizabeth thought that she had never experienced anything so painful in her life, and she felt her conscious mind blacking out as she swooned in mind-tortured pain. And yet, she could still feel the shame and humiliation as she humbly knelt between her two captors, her naked body a mass of torment.
Immediately, the Hessian officer and the Indian established a natural rhythm, ignoring her gurgling moans, buffeting her between them like an obstacle to be destroyed. She moaned continuously, a low whine which built to a witch-like screech as they rammed unfeelingly into her rectum and mouth with increasing force.
Robin was blinded by his tears, and his head swung back and forth in torment as he suffered with his young wife. If only they would give him one minute free from his bonds! In spite of his aversion to blood-shed, he could kill everyone of them! He tried to speak again, threaten them, but his throat was dry and only a helpless animal-like groan escaped his lips. He tried not to look at his ravished wife, but his eyes kept going back to the lewd sight of that greasy, thick rigid cock screwing in and out of Elizabeth's anal opening.
Cruelly sandwiched between the sadistic men, Elizabeth felt a masochistic need to be killed by the rampaging cocks. The utter helplessness of her position, the thought of being sodomized in front of her chained husband while a stranger fucked her mouth with his penis ... all this was a part of the strange emotion that was beginning to flow from her ravaged bottom. Oh God! Please no! She should n 't have that familiar tingling starting do wn there in her loins! No! She looked up at her husband, mutely pleading for understanding as she felt her body shamelessly begin responding to her sadistic defilement. She hated herself more than Robin ever would as she felt the first tentative ripples of carnal pleasure in her skewered rectum, and tried to force her thoughts away from the lewd spectacle ... forced her mind to concentrate on her poor husband, but it didn't work. Instinctively, she knew that very soon she would be writhing back to meet the Indian Chiefs long hard cock as it slid in and out of her forever-stretched anal passage.
"Goddamnit, you fucking bitch, suck it harder ... harder," Hauptmann shouted as the sight of her tight little asshole impaled on the Indian's horse-cock had driven him to new heights of lust. He was going to spew his Hessian cum inside her hot American mouth any second now. "Shit ... suck it harder ... I'm cumming! I'm cumming! AAAGGGHHHH!"
Elizabeth felt his hotly jerking penis suddenly explode inside her mouth, and then her throat was flooded with his thick tangy semen. It spurted down her gullet and wildly cascaded down into her stomach as she gulped hungrily in order to keep from choking. She felt his muscular body stiffen and the tendons in his arms became rigid as he pulled her head in even tighter against his jerking groin. As she attempted to swallow his erupting sperm-volcano, her unwanted lust flamed even higher as she took every drop of his flowing cum ... and sucked for more. Her vagina was on fire now and she wanted to rub it, but that could only cause her captive husband more grief than he was already suffering.
Almost as if he had read her mind, she felt Chief Wahadanega lower his hand to her wetly pulsing vagina, and she hated herself as she began punching her naked buttocks back to meet his warmly pulsating cock as it brought unwanted pleasure to her rectal chasm. She stared at Robin, mutely transmitting her shameful feelings as the Hessian officer salaciously jerked his depleted penis from her wearily trembling mouth. When she could speak, she gasped, "Forgive me, Robin! Forgive me!"
Then, she simply let her body take over, wantonly punching her asscheeks backward to meet each thrust slamming into her anal passage from behind. She felt his fingers moving over her frantically throbbing clitoris, and then gurgling moans were erupting from her lust-hoarsened throat. She could not help it ... even if their lives depended on it!
"Ohhhh ... AAGGHHHHH ... oh yes ... yes...." she moaned, her breath panting from her throat. Her nakedly lurching body quivered and shook in undisgusied rapture and her full white buttocks rotated in wanton little circles, as the Indian sawed in and out of her forever stretched anus.
Robin closed his eyes to the sight of his responding wife, but he was not able to shut out the obscene sound of her voice urging the vile Indian to fuck her rectum. Her delirious groans were taking on a greater urgency and her body was moving in sexual abandonment as she climbed higher to the apex of climax. In spite of his revulsion, he wasn't surprised to learn that his own penis had erected and was throbbing inside his pants, like a second heart. It was with a feeling of shame and repulsion that he tried to take his mind off his own excitement. He would never want Elizabeth to know that her ravishment had made him want to make love to her.
And then, Elizabeth was screaming, "Oh God! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" She slammed her widespread vagina down on the Indian's thrusting fingers, and buried them to the hilt, her vagina convulsing around them as she orgasmed.
Her tightly spasming anal muscles gripped the Indian's long hard cock, and he exploded with a savage roar, "UUUUGGGHHHHH!"
The wantonly writhing American girl felt the first blast of his heated semen spurt far up inside her rectal passage and she began wailing in rapture as her orgasm intensified.
Their groans and moans filled the air until there was another brilliant flash of light and the deafening roar of thunder. Robin was the first to see the door easing open and it was all he could to keep from shouting, for Axel stood there, blood streaming down the front of his shirt from a tomahawk wound. He had his musket raised.
Robin began thrashing violently, "I'll kill you. I'll kill you, Hauptmann, you bastard. BASTARD."
Both of the Hessians turned to him, surprised at his sudden outburst. Axel summed up the situation immediately and he used the heavy butt of the musket against Wahadanega's skull. The Indian Chief moaned, toppled over sideways unconscious, his deflating penis pulling from Elizabeth's tightly grasping anus with a lewd plop.
Hauptmann spun at the groan and dove for his saber. Too late Jocheim realized what was going on; his musket had started to rise when Axel's first shot hit him in the head, throwing him against the wall with a crash. The Hessian officer came up swinging with his saber, but it was no match for Axel's musket which snapped the blade like dry spaghetti. Then Axel's throwing knife was zinging through the air. Hauptmann feinted once with what was left of his saber, then screamed as the throwing knife hit his throat going in to the hilt. His eyes wide in disbelief and already clouding with death, the Hessian reached up with both hands and pulled the blade loose. A fountain of blood spurted from the opening. He stood there, swaying, then the knife clattered to the floor and he fell.
Axel's murderous expression did not change as the huge German stalked across the room to retrieve his knife. He had already picked up Chief Wahadanega's head by the long black hair and had positioned the razor sharp blade at the unconscious savage's throat, when Robin croaked loudly, "No, Axel. No."
The powerful German turned around as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Good Lord, Robin. He ... he ... sodomized your wife."
"No ... now listen to me, please. We can use him."
Axel shook his head as if he hadn't heard properly, then dropped the savage's head back down to the floor with a thump. He stalked across the room, picked up the remnants of Elizabeth's clothes and tossed them to her. "Put these on. We can't stay here all night." He winched then and put his hand against his shoulder where the blood had begun flowing again.
"Axel. You're hurt." Elizabeth cried.
"It's nothing. I owe it to him," he nodded to the unconscious Indian on the floor.
"He thinks he killed you, Axel," Robin said. "I heard him say that."
"So?"
"Unchain me, hurry. Now here's my plan. I never thought it would work out this way, but this is even better. Get Hauptmann out of here. I want to lie down in his blood."
"Robin? Are you sure you know...." Elizabeth began, feeling that perhaps he had lost his mind during the torture.
"Do as I say, darling. We've got to work fast before our savage friend here awakens." He turned to Axel. "Are the supplies where I wanted them."
"They are."
"Then let's set the stage. Here's the plan....
Chief Wahadanega slowly came back to consciousness. He groaned once, then realized his head was splitting open. Gradually everything r returned to him. He lifted his head and glanced around the room. The first figure he saw was that of the American spy who was lying in a puddle of blood. He was dead. There was no doubt about, no man could lose that much blood and live. His eyes shifted nervously toward Lieutenant Jocheim propped at a funny angle against the wall; half of his head was gone.
Uncertain of himself now, he had started to get stealthily to his knees when he saw the beautiful white woman. In the dim light it looked as if her throat had been cut for there was what appeared to be a gaping wound there and she was lying in blood.
It was the noise behind him that really unnerved the Indian chief. He still didn't know what had happened to him, all he knew was that he was ejaculating in the white woman's bowels one second and the next he was waking up. Cautiously he turned the see the noise behind him and his blood froze. There, in the doorway, was the giant blond man he had killed; his tomahawk was still buried in the man's shoulder alongside the neck. The man stared at him with yellow dead eyes.
Dead. They're all dead! He whimpered in superstitious fear and cringed back against the table, his hands slipping behind him looking for a weapon, his eyes darting from one spot to another seeking escape. The light was so much dimmer than before! Surely it was, as the legends said, the land of the dead, and he, too, was dead!
Chief Wahadanega, whose bravery was unquestioned among his people, almost screamed in fright as he heard a spectral voice coming form the dead American spy.
"Oh listen to me, mighty Wahadanega. I speak to you from the land of the dead, through the voice of a dead man. You will live, Wahadanega. You will live to lead your tribe in wise and fruitful ways, and you shall grow old. We shall guide you. Go with your braves with the English Colonel and the Hessians. But ... and heed this, mighty Wahadanega. There are other gods more powerful than we. If you should come to a valley of broken rainbows, that will be the first warning. The second warning will be the last warning for the night will have a thousand fires and skies will fall and the hill will open and the dead return to destroy forever you and your tribe's greatness. Go now in peace, Wahadenega ... go now and remember...."
The voice faded. A panting, trembling Indian stared frantically around the room. A t the doorway where the big dead man had stood with a tomahawk in his neck, there was only the night. Behind him in the cabin there was a whisper and the lamp went out.
"Goooo now...."
And Wahadanega went, diving out of the doorway across the deck and into the waters of the lake, as the night thundered around him.