+++Don't be a rebel. Leave the battle if you are
less than 18 years of age. Veterans of the War
Between the States, or others over 18 can stay.
Twelfth of May 1864
Dear Robbie,
I can not keep the telling of my adventure bottled up inside and must share it. You, as my dear friend and farm neighbor will understand the story, especially because we had, and I for one miss, a tender relationship in the past. Nothing can be more diverting than two eighteen years olds finding excitement in each other, while our bodies get scratched in the hay loft.
Yes, hay loft begins my story. In a rural area of South Carolina, I became separated from my unit of the Massachusetts Volunteers. It was getting dark, but I made out a large barn ahead, in the fading light.
There were no live stock there, the owners of the farm must have moved them further south for safety knowing that we Blues were wont to capture them as war prizes.
I was dog tired and pushed two hay bales together to form a make shift cot. I shed my boots and gun belt and stretched out. The dry grass pricked my arm and I thought of you, dear friend.
It was a miracle, but I slept at least six hours on this uncomfortable bower. I awoke as the first rays of sun touched my eyes. I knew there was danger, immediately, for there stood two ragged young men, their muskets trained on my head. There tattered uniforms were, unfortunately, gray.
"Stay on yer back," the very tall, blond kid ordered. "If'n yer eye flickers, you're dead."
The other boy was shaking. I guess I was his first prisoner. He had the tan skin of part black heritage. He said nothing, merely waggled his old coon hunting rifle at me.
I said nothing. There wasn't much to say. I remembered hiding behind a large tree when we played hide-and-seek and I felt like I had been found, except the consequences here were very serious.
"Put on yer boots." The he thought a minute, "Wait, they sure are fine ones." He quickly unlaced his own sorry, worn boots with soles partly unattached. "I'll jes hep myself to these. You kin use mine."
I still said nothing. I could see that they weren't sure what to do so I stupidly aided them. You know, I was always trying to run things. "You might want to take me to your company commander and get the credit for my capture."
Their faces brightened. "Shore, that's jest what I was thinkin'. Stand up and no fast moves and git walkin' five paces afore us."
We walked a long time, perhaps two miles. Coming down from the rise, I saw a large encampment, more than twenty tents. There were canon and stacked supplies. This was an important gathering.
The tall bean pole told the darker boy to guard me as he went to the large tent in the middle of the other tents. He called out and then entered. In a few minutes, he face wreathed in smiles, showing his missing teeth in the front, he motioned me to enter the tent.
At an ornate field desk as field officer sat, writing. My guard boy cleared his throat and the officer lifted his head and looked at me. I think that both of us were struck by each other's appearance. As you know, I am quite attractive, almost girlish in my features and wavy light brown hair. Boys and girls have remarked about my pretty mouth and large gray eyes.
He rose to his full height of over six feet and came close to me. I smelled perfume on him. He was extremely well groomed compared to his troops. His immaculate uniform must have been hand made by one of those English tailors in Atlanta. Besides that, he wore long handle bar moustaches, well waxed and bold. Other than that, his curly blond hair was carefully oiled and arranged, all complimenting his aristocratic features. When he was in front of me, he reached out a hand toward my hair. I thought he was about to caress me but instead he removed a piece of hay that had lodged there and smiled at me.
He then dismissed the scare crow guard with a languid wave of his hand and motioned for me to sit on a camp stool near his desk. He resumed his position behind the desk and spoke for the first time. "Your name?"
"Cyrus."
"You are a becoming lad, though I am not much older than you, I certainly have the advantage over you and I expect to pursue it avidly. Do you understand?"
I recoiled. While I am not adverse to sexual games with another male, I abhorred the idea that I would be opportuned rather than wooed.
"Sir, I am your prisoner, but not your slave. I demand that I be fed and placed in a safe confinement."
He got up angrily and took my chin in his grasp. "Who are you to make demands?" Then added in a whisper, "Your chin is hairless and quite soft and dimpled. You are a very adorable boy."
That expression of regard had an affect on me. After all, he was comely to the extreme. But I began to worry when he crossed to the tent opening and tied the flats closed then dimmed the lamp on his desk. The interior of the tent was thrown into dimness.
Then he stood in front of me and in the voice he must use to command his troops, he bellowed: "Remove your clothing!"
I laughed at him, but then he drew his sword with one hand and held his pistol with the other. "You can die dressed, but then you will be buried naked."
I am no fool. I quickly pulled off the ruined shoes and my hose, then slipped out of my trousers and underpants. His beautiful eyes gleamed at the sight of my rump and sexual organs. He said out loud, "What an exquisite bum and I see your prong is long enough to practice navel knots upon."
While part of me was insulted at his familiarity, I was feeling captivated by his soft southern accent. I know that I was taking huge breaths in order to calm myself. No doubt he divined that, but I endeavored to hide my pleasure at his compliments. As you know, I am weak when praised. I swept off my uniform jacket and blouse and finally my underwear vest, exposing my well formed breast and tight belly.
"You are like a statue in the museum. May I touch you?"
I husked out, "Do I have a choice, sir?"
He chose my pink nipple for his first salvo in his battle to seduce me. Heaven knows that is my weak spot. I sighed heavily at his touch and he laughed slightly at my reaction.
"You are like a girl who's nipple is being attended to. I'm glad I brought you pleasure, but this is only a skirmish and the troops will bring up the rear shortly."
At the word "rear" I now knew his designs. I was to be bummed, something that I have never experienced and dread fearfully, as you well know. I can fuck, but I can't be fucked, to use gutter terms.
"Here lady boy, lay on your back and put your handsome legs up on my hip bones and trust me to attend to your happiness." "Sir, even if it means the hangman, I cannot submit to a flesh pole in my ass passage. You must desist at once."
His tall well formed body was now being unveiled and I gasped at his slimness, his ivory skin and best of all, the blond hair that grew on his chest and decorated his large penis. While entranced, I was still adamant.
"Tell you what, you are almost spurning the most delicious experience of your young life. You are foolish child, but I have an offer for you that will surely change your mind, and give an excuse to your skittishness. I will pay you the sum of one hundred dollars...and I will provide you with a horse to take you back to your blue coated troops. What do you say to that?"
I took a deep breath. His offer was magnificent and secretly I wondered what it would be like to submit to this god-like man. I sighed in surrender and lifted my legs and settled them on his hip bones. He laughed long and loud, almost drunkenly at my submission and his triumph. In a moment his prick head pushed against my reluctant sphincter. I fought opening the door but he battering rammed it and I, with a sob, opened up and he slipped partly in.
I was in pain and humiliation. Not only was I being fucked, but the fucker was my enemy. This was insupportable. He knew nothing of my thoughts, by his face I could see that he had slipped from his elegant self into a creature of sexual need. His nostrils were flared, his eyes were throwing sparks and his mouth was set with purpose.
He began the ride with a slow walk. I began to feel less tense. I hope he didn't notice the beatific look on my face. Then the loping trot, my body posting with his thrusts and my moans of ecstacy matching his cries of pleasure. I was truly his whore now, but more was to come. He began to canter, thrusting deep and withdrawing almost fully. Sweat broke out on my chest and my face froze into a mask of intensity.
"You are feeling the gates of heaven opening to you, delicious boy, don't wait to enter."
It was true. I could almost hear the voices of angels as I fucked back and sang my own song of approaching orgasm. He was right along with me and I felt his prick elongate and begin to spit his essence into me. I screamed and my own organ shot streams of man milk onto my chest. We heaved and shouted and drooled and called out to the gods as we reached the other side of heaven and panted and panted until we were mortal again.
"That was excellent. You have a cunt boy, better than any girl's. One time is not enough. I wish to repeat our passion."
I begged him to let me go. I pointed at his penis that was hanging soft and useless.
He smiled at me. "Cyrus, stare at it and watch it. The South will rise again and you will be fucked again."
Truly it happened. It stiffened and rose up proudly. I had become so enthralled with his mastery of me that I lifted my legs again and my ass hole gaped in need.
He slid in quickly and fucked mightily. I rose to the former heights of passion quickly and was moaning like a dance hall hussy almost immediately. He showed no tenderness nor care as he fucked me with such a frenzy, I was thrust along the bed and almost fell off.
Then with a might roar he spilled into me and I, a helpless automaton reached my climax as willed by his body. Again we shared delicious agony as our bodies emptied their sperm through our pulsing organs.
When we finished, he was true to his word. I dressed. He handed me the money, dressed himself and opened the tent flat and called for a horse, "Sally" by name. It was dark, but I mounted the beast, slapped its flanks and rode swiftly into the night.
Now dear Robbie, my tale turns a dark corner. About a mile before reaching the North's local headquarters, Sally faltered, stumbled and fell to her knees. Her breathing was harsh. She must be suffering from a sort of lung problem. Then she let out a long musical sound and fell onto her side. I extricated my leg and examined Sally. Sally was dead. No doubt the Captain knew he tendered a sick horse, but perhaps he didn't realize that I was able to get this close to my destination.
Ahead was a tavern. I decided to have some grog and rest a bit. Inside the place was teaming with Blues. I smiled and greeted them warmly although none were from my regiment. DThe tankard was placed before me and I threw a bill on the bar.
The landlord gave a cry of anger. "Are you making fun of me, disgracing my tavern with worthless Confederate money?"
In a flash I realized that I had been fucke four times, two in the ass, one on horseback and the other in my pocket book.
But, I am still alive and Robbie, my companion of my youthful experimentation, we have new things to try for, although it is only three hours since my bumming, I am beginning to want it anew.
Your dearest pal and lover,
Cyrus
End of story