2 comments/ 14760 views/ 2 favorites The 102nd Virginia Ch. 01 By: JohnWCulp (This series is only loosely based on facts surrounding the Gettysburg campaign of 1863. None of the major characters are intended to represent any real persons. Units, corps, and other battle-related facts are not meant to exactly mirror the actions of either army at Gettysburg.) June 29, 1863 Outside Chambersburg, PA Elizabeth Wade opened the back door and peeked in both directions. She dared not go out the front. Rumors of Confederates in the area had been discarded by Mrs. Wade until the previous evening, when smoke rose above the trees less than two miles to the east, where there should have been no smoke. Now she gathered up the shawl that hung from her neck and walked briskly towards the barn. She'd do the chores as normal, but with an eye cast up the road. Her long brown hair fluttered behind her as she moved rapidly, nervously taking care of chickens, cows and pigs. In all her thirty years, she was never this frightened. Oh, how she wanted her Robert home with her. They said they would add to their family of four when he returned. Until the danger passed, her son and daughter were with her mother in Pittsburgh. She prayed every night they would all live long enough to be back together. A short distance away, to the east of the Wade farm, the men Elizabeth feared most huddled around morning campfires. "I hear that ol' Lee has no clue where the yankees are," Sam Fisher grumbled, poking at the fire with a stick. "Yeah. Showman Jeb has gone on another of his publicity seeking joyrides with the cavalry and kinda left him guessing," Jack Campbell replied, pulling off his coat. The morning air was already full of humidity and warmth, not a good sign for the travel-worn members of the 102nd Virginia infantry. They had left the comfort and safety of Virginia three weeks previous and were now in southern Pennsylvania, living meagerly off the land or what they could 'buy' from the locals as they passed through. It was rolling farmland mainly, with thick woods, corn and wheat fields, and the occasional small village. Hatred for the Confederates was more than evident, although violent hostility was rare. Days were spent marching and foraging. And repeatedly reading the latest mail from home. Jack pulled out the most recent letter from his wife Jennie, back on the farm in southwest Virginia. Sam was rambling on, but Jack was lost deep in thought about his beautiful brown eyed wife and their two year old daughter. The only picture he had of Jennie was nearly faded out, and rains from a few weeks ago left it wrinkled. But he kept it with the letter and used them both as reasons to continue living from day to day. He was almost done reading when a sergeant rushed up. "Campbell. Fisher," the short, bearded man bellowed. "Go get Wilson and an empty wagon and take a ride down that road." The sergeant pointed to a nearby dirt path heading west. "Don't start no trouble. Just find whatever supplies you can. Bread. Meat. Especially meat," he said. "Bacon. Ham. Whatever they got at the first farm you come to. Give 'em a receipt and tell 'em Richmond will send 'em cash." He was about to leave, but turned and said, "And keep your hands off the women." Jack and Sam were actually pleased to have something to keep them occupied for a few hours. Neither of them had made an 'official' visit to a farm on the march into Pennsylvania, so it promised to offer a nice reprieve from the daily routine. And the youngster Wilson would be entertaining, if not necessarily helpful." Jack Campbell was twenty five. Tall, lean, and good looking, his rugged face and body made him the target of many young women before Jennie latched on. He was smart, dedicated to the cause, and fearless. Sam was in his mid thirties, heavier set with an unkempt beard, as opposed to Jack's neatly trimmed facial hair. Sam had volunteered right after the news of Fort Sumter, and had fought in several hot spots already. His calm demeanor was soothing to the newly enlisted Jack. Wilson was just eighteen. He joined the 102nd in May. Little did he know what he was in for, but his youth made him blind to it anyway. As soon as a wagon was found, the three soldiers set off down the road. Morning fog was lifting and bright sunshine overhead promised good weather. The only sounds, once they left the proximity of the camp, came from the mourning doves, pheasants, and wagon wheels on the gravel path. "I'd pay the devil for some new shoes," Sam groused while fumbling with his boots. "These gave out sometime around Sharpsburg." "I heard somebody say there's a town close by called Gettysburg that was supposed to have shoes," Jack said. "Maybe we'll get there." "Or maybe that farm has some," Wilson said, pointing at a farmhouse when they got to the top of a small rise in the road. "I see a smokehouse," Jack said, squinting in the morning sun. "And I hear cattle. So far so good." "Now if these folk get nasty," Sam warned, "we're to turn right back and skedaddle. Got it?" Jack and Wilson nodded. Jack was paying more attention to a figure he saw between the smokehouse and the farmhouse. There was no mistaking the sight of a woman; a woman with long, flowing, dark hair that reminded him instantly of Jennie. Even the way she moved was like her. The three Confederates saw her look their way. She stopped dead in her tracks. And then rushed inside the back of the house. "She's getting her man," Sam said. "Remember, no trouble here or the sergeant will have us hung from a tree." The two-story farmhouse sat in front of a medium size farm by northern standards. The rebs would have loved to own a farm as nice, with its German barn, outbuildings, and smokehouse. And as soon as they saw the horses in the first barn they passed, each of them knew they would not come away empty handed from this scavenger hunt. Once off the wagon, they approached cautiously, instinctively separating themselves by several paces to make it harder for someone to take them all out at once. But no shots were fired by the time they were at the rear of the house. Sam stepped onto the creaky back porch and pounded on the door. He moved to the side of the door, musket raised at his side, ready for quick use if need be. "Who is it?" a female voice called out. "Open up, ma'am," Sam ordered. A short pause was followed by an unlatching of the door and another squeak as it opened. Sam could only see the woman's frightened face. "Members of the 102nd Virginia infantry, first corps, under the command of Major General Pickett and General Longstreet, here to purchase from you necessary supplies in compliance with the orders of commanding General Lee. Open up, ma'am." Elizabeth had been told by Esther McVicker just the week before that the rebels wiped out entire villages that refused to supply them. Her survival the rest of the summer depended on her store of meat. Yet, disobedience meant never getting to see Robert again. She opened the door half way, enough to see the faces of the three men encircling her porch. "I've got nothing," she said with a quivering voice. "Where's your husband?" Sam asked. "He's in town. He'll be back soon," she replied. Same wouldn't have believed her even without looking into her eyes. "Let us in, ma'am" He didn't wait for her approval. Sam barged in, followed quickly by Jack and Wilson. Jack and Elizabeth exchanged fleeting looks as they passed, Elizabeth searching for a non-threatening face and Jack searching for his young wife in the first female face he had seen up close in weeks. "Not much evidence of a man in here," Sam said. "I'd hate to think you'd lie to us. Is all the meat in the smokehouse?" Elizabeth nodded. "Please don't take everything. I beg you. Leave me enough to live on." "Just you?" Jack asked her. "Not your husband." She knew right away she had been caught, and nearly broke into tears. Sam was the first to allay her fears. "Wilson. You and me will check out the smokehouse, leaving the lady a little for herself. Jack, stay here and collect whatever supplies you can." After Sam and Wilson left, Jack laid his gun on the kitchen table and said to Elizabeth, "Don't worry, ma'am. Sam's a decent man. He's got a family, too. He'll leave you something." "Thank you," Elizabeth said meekly. "Do you have flour, sugar? Anything?" "In the cellar," she replied. "Will you take me?" She led him back outside and around to the corner of the house. She pulled open the large door to the sunken cellar and preceded Jack down the steps. His eyes never left her, taking in every move she made. Her dress, while clearly old, fit perfectly around her well proportioned body. She was average in height and weight and undoubtedly healthy. Once inside, Jack walked around the large space, making a mental inventory of the cans of flour and sugar. When he glanced back at Elizabeth, she quickly looked away. "How long has he been gone?" Jack asked. "My husband? Almost two years." "Where is he?" Elizabeth shrugged. "Last I heard, Virginia." "Strange," Jack said, as he walked back to her. "He's there and I'm here." "It isn't fair, is it?" Elizabeth said, now openly staring into his eyes. He wasn't at all the barbarian Esther had described. He was a man, like her Robert, in unfamiliar territory trying to endure. There was a little bit of fear in both of their faces. And something else. A longing for normalcy, perhaps. Maybe a reassurance they weren't alone. "What's his name?" Jack inquired. "Robert. And hers?" "Jennie." "She looks like you," he said, reaching out. "With your hair." He ran the back of his fingers down the side of her head. Elizabeth closed her eyes, then quickly opened them. "You should get your supplies." His hand had not stopped. It was on her shoulder. "I will," Jack said. He put the palm of his hand on her bare skin, pushing it away from her neck and taking the top of her dress with it. When he got to the curve of her shoulder, he moved to the other side and pushed the dress aside there, too. The straps of her chemise lingered behind. Elizabeth's skin was fair and unblemished, except for a small freckle on one shoulder. The rise of her breasts was evident, especially now with the quick breaths she was taking. "We should get..." "No. Wait," he said. "Don't be frightened." He put his hand on her chin and raised her face. He studied the eyes and nose and lips. Jack leaned down and kissed her lightly. There was no response. He put his lips on hers again and ran his tongue across the top. This time her mouth opened just a crack. Jack kissed harder. Elizabeth didn't want this. She wanted to push Jack away and run up the steps to the outside. Instead, she kissed him. She opened her mouth and met his tongue with hers and she kissed him. Her body ignited the way it used to with Robert and she explored his mouth with her tongue. Jack had his hands on her upper arms, gradually tugging on the sleeves of the dress until it began falling down her arms. Elizabeth was stumbling backwards toward the wall. "Stop. We mustn't be found," she managed to say. "Be quiet. Or we will." Jack was kissing her neck and below it, where the dress was giving way and her chemise undergarment was not yet protecting. Her skin was warm and smooth and tender. Jack felt the throbbing between his legs begin to press against his pants and Elizabeth felt it when they crashed against the wall. "Please," she begged him. He knew what she meant, but he continued his deliberate removing of the dress until her arms were completely free of the dress sleeves. Now he could see the magnificence of her generous breasts under the thin chemise. Her nipples pressed against the fabric and he ran his hands over them. Elizabeth turned her head away and closed her eyes. Jack pushed the dress down to the floor, revealing her chemise and the off-white drawers underneath. Her stockings stopped at the knees. "You kissed me willingly," Jack said. "I much prefer that to your false pleadings. How can I win you back?" "You could start by dressing me again," she said coldly. Jack grinned and looked down at her chest. "No, I was going to let you do that. After we're done." He forced his mouth onto hers and the kiss was revisited. Again, Elizabeth gave in to an inner urge, and the kiss turned more passionate. Her hands touched him this time, only lightly on the sides. But contact was made. Jack was more direct, clutching at her breasts through the chemise and eventually pulling on the straps until it would have fallen off if Elizabeth had not held it in place with one hand. Jack pulled the hand aside and they watched the undergarment fall to her feet. Her breasts were full and firm. The nipples were dark and stiff. In the cool air of the cellar, goose bumps began to appear on her flawless skin. Jack immediately lowered his face to one breast and began sucking feverishly on it. Elizabeth pushed against him half-heartedly. Jack grabbed her wrists and continued licking and sucking, alternating between the tits until the nipples were both wet from his saliva. Elizabeth felt the tingle between her legs that only Robert could cause. Until today. "Please stop," she moaned. "Or what? Or you will cry out for me? For my hard cock?" The words stunned her. She was frightened, and excited, and puzzled. How many times in the past year had she used her own hand to pleasure herself. Now this strange man, a Confederate soldier, was threatening to take her. And she felt a stimulation like the first time Robert took her in the woods. Like she felt when she put her hand... He was touching her. Through her drawers, he was touching her there. Elizabeth opened her mouth and made no sound; just an intake of air, over and over again as he rubbed her harder. He was nibbling on her nipples and driving her wild with lust. Her hand went to him, as if on its own accord. Elizabeth reached for his hardness and put her palm on it. She searched out its entire length. "Do you want it?" She wouldn't say it. She couldn't. Jack's hand slid inside the drawers and he found her wetness. "Do you?" A tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. He was stroking her most sensitive spot, forcing her onto her toes trying to escape his hand. And then she shrieked when two fingers were thrust inside her. "Tell me," he whispered. "Do you want me?" More tears flowed. Elizabeth nodded. Jack nearly ripped her drawers off. Elizabeth stepped out of the pile of clothes while Jack pulled out his rock hard cock. She glanced at it only briefly before he spread her legs and lifted one leg with his muscular arm. She felt his hardness against her thigh. Then he had it in place. There was no waiting. No more kisses. "Ahhhhhhh!" Elizabeth cried out as he entered her. Jack grunted even louder and began to fuck her wildly. Elizabeth clung to him, totally lost in lust and fear and anger. Her bare ass rubbed against the rough wall until Jack put his hand there, pulling her closer and increasing the friction between her body and his cock. Then he kissed her and Elizabeth submitted. Months and months of loneliness and desperation drove them both towards a much needed climax, one that would echo through the grimy cellar and leak through the floor of the house into the kitchen where Sam and Wilson waited impatiently. ### "Well, did you have any luck?" Sam asked with considerable mockery when Jack and Elizabeth finally entered the house through the back door. "Finding supplies? Yes," Jack replied. Elizabeth's meek expression and tousled hair gave away the true account, as if it needed to be told. "Where's Wilson?" Jack asked, primarily to change the subject. "Upstairs," Sam said. "Why don't you gather up them supplies and begin loading the wagon. Me and Wilson have some chores for the young lady." Jack didn't like the sound of it, but he couldn't do much to protect Elizabeth now. Reluctantly, he walked out and back towards the cellar. In the kitchen, Sam told Elizabeth, "Heat up some water. Wilson found the bath and wants to take advantage of it while we're here. It's been far too long since any of us had a nice, hot bath, little lady. I'm sure you won't mind." It took several minutes for the large cast iron pot of water to begin steaming over the fire. Sam watched every move the woman made and had her bring out some bread and butter while they waited. Upstairs, they heard Wilson's footsteps as he began undressing. Jack made numerous trips to and from the wagon, attempting each time to see inside the house, without success. It was useless anyway, as Sam soon had Elizabeth carry the hot water up to the bath, far out of sight. Elizabeth paused at the door when she saw Wilson bending over to remove the last of his grubby clothing. She stared at the naked young man and the large cock that hung between his legs. When Wilson stood up, the skinny, youthful frame seemed child-like. Except for the manhood in front. "I put whatever cold water I could find in there," Wilson said. "Heat it up for me now." The tub was shallow and fairly short with a curved edge and simple, metal legs. There was nothing ornate about it whatsoever. To Wilson, it looked like a king's bath. Elizabeth walked over and poured in the entire contents of her pot. The water was now a few inches deep. She backed away, turning away from Wilson in the process. Sam stopped her a few feet from the bath. "Stay here," he ordered. He forced her to turn and watch as Wilson gingerly stepped into the tub and then sank into the water, stretching out as far as he could. He settled down and rested his head on one end, smiling broadly. "Ahhhh. This is heaven, Sam," the teenager said. "Now get me some soap." Sam motioned for Elizabeth to deliver it. She took a brownish bar from the sill next to the tub and began to offer it to Wilson. "No. Keep it," Sam told her. "You do the honors. Get him good and clean so he don't stink so much." Elizabeth's fear quickly returned, unsure just how far the men would go. She stepped back over to the sill and picked up the cup she used to pour water over herself when she used the same tub. She returned to Wilson's side, got on her knees, and said quietly, "Lean up." He sat upright and Elizabeth filled the cup with water from behind him. She couldn't help but notice the growing thickness of his cock, dreading the inevitable cleaning of his legs. She poured the water over his shoulders and back and began to rub the harsh soap over his leathery skin. Elizabeth was swift in her duties, rinsing him clean and moving to his arms. Wilson leaned back and reveled in the treatment he was receiving. She washed his hairless chest, stopping well short of his waist, which was barely under water. But now the cock was longer, with purple veins appearing along the sides. Wilson saw her looking, and it made him even harder. She moved to his legs, which he needed to bend to fit in the tub. Elizabeth rubbed halfway up his thighs. Then she rinsed him off. "You missed some," Sam said when it looked as if Elizabeth was about to stand. "You know what I mean. Now get it all. Use your hands." The grin on Wilson's face was quite the contrast to Elizabeth's grimace. But the sooner she was done, the sooner they'd leave. So she covered her hands in soap and reached down. She slid her palms over the area above his cock first, then moved closer to his balls. Wilson raised his body slightly out of the water at the same time. "Everything," Sam ordered. Elizabeth's hands were nearly soap-free now, but she took his cock in one hand and stroked him from bottom to top. She instantly felt him harden nearly to a full erection. The 102nd Virginia Ch. 01 "Get it good," she heard from behind. She stroked the cock a couple more times. Outside, Jack was finishing up his task of loading the wagon, making sure a few weeks worth of flour and sugar were left for Elizabeth. That's when he heard the scream. Jack jumped onto the porch, pulled the door open and ran up the steps. The sight in the bathroom stopped him cold in his tracks. Elizabeth was bent over the tub, Wilson's cock in her mouth. Sam was yanking off her drawers with her dress bunched up at her waist. The pale ass that appeared still had scratch marks from the session in the cellar. Sam was pulling out his cock, intent on using it, while Elizabeth's head bobbed up and down. Jack felt totally powerless and somewhat guilty at the excitement the scene gave him. He couldn't stop staring at Elizabeth's tiny ass with its round cheeks and petite crack. He watched as Sam pulled it apart, putting his cock at the entrance to the same hole Jack had used less than an hour before. Elizabeth cried out as Sam thrust into her. Then Wilson pushed her head back down onto his cock and she was silent again, except for some unmistakable moans when Sam started fucking her harder. Wilson came first. With a loud exclamation, he pushed his cock higher and shot stream after stream of cum into Elizabeth's mouth until it leaked out and dribbled down her cheek. Elizabeth clung to the side of the tub even after finishing with Wilson. Sam was close behind. He, too, made it very evident when his cock emptied itself inside her. He had pulled at the front of her dress until her tits hung free, and Wilson played with them roughly. During it all, Elizabeth tried her best to hide her own orgasm, making her moans sound more like suffering than release. Jack went outside and sat on the wagon. ### Jennie Campbell struggled with the sack of grain, resting it uneasily on the back of the wagon while she sought a better grip. Just as she thought the bag would tumble to the ground, a pair of large arms replaced her hands and effortlessly tossed the grain into its proper place. "Ooooh, gracious," she yelped. "Thank you so...much." She hesitated when she turned and stood face to face with Henry Evans, the grain store owner's son. "No problem, Jennie." "That would have been quite a mess," she said. "Thank you." She'd known Henry his entire life. They were only separated by four years and she couldn't believe he was twenty already. Of course, the two years he spent in the war had aged him considerably. When his enlistment was up, he came home to southern Virginia to help out his parents. But soon, he'd be back with his regiment, defending his home state again. "Heard from Mr. Campbell lately?" he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with his hat. "Not in a long while," Jennie said mournfully. "It worries me so." "I heard 'em say yesterday Lee would be in Baltimore in a week, and then Washington, and the war will be over." "I do hope so," Jennie said with wide eyes. "Wouldn't that be wonderful?" "C'mon in and have some coffee," Henry urged her. "No, Henry. I can't. I got to..." "C'mon. I haven't had a chance to spend time with a real lady in...seems like years," he implored. "Oh," she sighed. "I guess just for a few minutes." The smile on Henry's face said everything. Jennie was actually glad for the invitation, but wouldn't show it. She had been so lonely on the isolated farm. And no mail from Jack truly upset her. A few minutes with an old friend might be comforting. Henry Evans wasn't the best looking man Jennie ever knew. He wasn't the strongest, or tallest, or smartest. He was merely the nicest to her, next to Jack. Perhaps she was the big sister he never had. Before Jack, people that knew Jennie and Henry tried in vain to get them together. Only once, when she was about fifteen, did Jennie ever consider the idea. Henry always liked Jennie, with her flowing hair and delicate features. He liked the way she let her dresses hang open at the top, not like the old fashioned ladies in town. He liked her self-assurance and get-it-done attitude. But his introversion never allowed him to approach her, until this moment. The war had an effect on everybody. Henry accompanied Jennie to the store's rear office. Along the way, he stopped at a small wood burning stove that provided a means to heat water, even though the best venting system never prevented it from overheating the store in the summer. Henry considered it a small price to pay for a chance to entertain Mrs. Campbell. He mixed the coffee inside the office while Jennie pulled over a chair. "Where's your daddy today?" she asked. "Over at the Zeller place. He'll be all day." "So you're the boss for now?" Henry laughed. "I guess. We'll go out of business for sure. Ol' John will keep up with things, I hope." He handed Jennie a heavy mug. "It ain't the best," he warned her. "That's OK, Henry. I make the worst." They chatted while the sounds of business occasionally rang out around them. At one point, the noise progressed to the point where Henry went to the door and looked out, asked John if everything was OK, and then pulled the door shut as he reentered the office. "I guess it beats getting shot at by yankees," Henry admitted. "I'll git more of that soon enough." Jennie looked at him carefully. "What's it like, Henry? Being a soldier. Being shot at." She didn't ask for his sake, or hers. She wanted to know what it was like for Jack. "Oh, most of the time you're bored to death," he sighed. "You're in camp, doin' nothin'. Then you march and do nothin' some more. The food's bad. You're hot. Cold. Wet. Can't find water." It wasn't what Jennie needed to hear. "Then all of a sudden you're being thrown into a fight. Sometimes big. Sometimes small. But what the hell is the diff'rence when you're bein' shot at?" "Ever been hit?" Jennie asked. "Nope, thank the Lord." "I hope you don't," Jennie said. "I hope nobody gets hurt ever again after this damn war." She looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry." Henry laughed loudly. "You ain't never sat around a camp fire with a bunch of drunk Confederates, have you?" She shook her head. "Good thing," Henry said. "Hard to say what they might do to you." Jennie blushed and held the mug in both hands. "I doubt if anybody besides Jack looks at me in that way." "Ah, don't be so sure, Jennie. There's loads of men would love to come back to you." Jennie sipped her coffee to avoid having to say more. But that just gave Henry an opening to get up and walk over to her. He had been gazing at her diminutive face, buried in the lush hair, long enough to build up the courage he so often lacked. Now he imagined himself the wearied soldier returning to her welcoming arms. Jennie followed him with her eyes. He looked down at her, his focus alternating between her face and her dress. He stood next to her and Jennie got the same feeling inside that she did when she saw him outside at the wagon; an energized feeling. His hand touched her and she felt the jolt of stimulation. No man had touched her since...since Jack left so long ago. Henry took the mug from her and put it on the desk. He ran both hands down the side of her head and neck, capturing her thick hair in the process. He pulled it back, behind her, letting nothing interfere with the top of her dress. "A man would be a damn fool for ignoring you, Jennie." Her heart pounded. She felt beads of perspiration gathering under her bangs. She licked her dry lips and felt her throat begin to tighten as Henry's hands touched her shoulders and upper arms. "Stand up, Jennie." She was tempted to stand up and walk to the door. But his hands never left her and she enjoyed it. She took pleasure in a pair of strong hands holding her again. Jennie stood in front of her long-time friend, allowing him to cling to her. Henry reached around to the front of her dress, near the neck but low enough to feel the skin below it. "Henry," Jennie said meekly. "Shhh." His lips were next to her ear. He could smell her hair. She could feel his breath. His fingers slid lower until reaching a button. He opened it and caressed her. Only a hint of the top of her breasts was evident. She turned so rapidly he couldn't prevent it. But there was no anger in her eyes or voice. "Henry, no. Jack would...he would...," Jennie stammered. "Jack's a far way from here, Jennie." He saw the pain in her eyes as she contemplated his words. Henry held her by the arms and leaned down. He kissed her briefly, with no force behind it. Jennie was like a rag doll until a few seconds after the kiss. Then she returned the kiss with a touch more fervor. In the middle of it, Henry put his arms on her back and pulled her towards him, turning the kiss into something more. Their bodies came together. Their tongues collided and Jennie was pushing her fingers through Henry's long, thick hair. He nearly lifted her off the ground with the ardor of his embrace and Jennie stood on her tiptoes. She felt the hardness between his legs. It only excited her into a longer kiss with soft moans of bliss. Henry put a hand between them and clutched at a breast through her dress and undergarments. She protested without ever breaking off the kiss or letting go of her young companion. Then two hands opened another button of her dress and slid under her camisole to feel the soft skin of her breasts. Finally, she escaped the kiss. But her mind was racing too fast for conscious thoughts to register. She reached down and felt his cock, rubbing it and gripping it with all her fingers. Henry was pushing her dress apart, desperate to find the nipple at the end of her tit. "Henry! No!" Jennie took a step backward, seizing the open flaps of her dress and fretfully buttoning it back up. "I'm...I'm sorry, Jennie. I...I..." Jennie ran her hands through her hair, tried to catch her breath, and rushed past Henry. "I must go, Henry." Henry threw himself into the office chair, staring at the ceiling until hearing the sound of Jennie's wagon rapidly rolling away. (To be continued...) The 102nd Virginia Ch. 02 (This series is only loosely based on facts surrounding the Gettysburg campaign of 1863. None of the major characters are intended to represent any real persons. Units, corps, and other battle-related facts are not meant to exactly mirror the actions of either army at Gettysburg.) June 30, 1863 Cashtown, PA Jack Campbell was on the march again. The 102nd Virginia infantry awoke to orders to march east from Chambersburg to a place called Cashtown in southern Pennsylvania. By all indications, the day promised to be warmer than the previous few and none of the men welcomed it. Luckily, trees were plentiful and water was abundant in a multitude of small streams. Jack and two of his mates had been lauded the day before for their successful foray into the countryside where they 'purchased' ham, bacon, and many sacks of supplies from a local farm. Only the three men themselves knew what they had really taken from the owner, Elizabeth Wade. Twenty five year old Jack still had her face and body on his mind as they approached Cashtown. Young private Wilson had trouble thinking of anything except his time in Elizabeth's tub. Sam Fisher, the oldest of the three, couldn't erase the memory of the sight of her bare ass. But they had moved on nearly fifteen miles when a large, two story inn appeared ahead on the left side of the road. The 102nd was ordered to camp in the fields west of the inn. The men gladly threw off their gear and claimed spots. Soon, loud cheers rang out and the stately form of General Lee on top of his grey horse Traveler drifted past, toward the inn. There was nothing more comforting to the men than knowing that 'ol' Bobby Lee' would never lead them into danger they couldn't get out of through hard fighting. Jack hadn't been in a fight for over a month and that was fine with him. All he wanted was to return to his home in southern Virginia and to his wife Jennie. He had thought of her, too, after his encounter with Elizabeth in the cellar of her farmhouse. But he attributed their sex to nervous energy built up over the long march north, and Elizabeth's uncanny resemblance to Jennie. Still, he felt a strange combination of guilt and attraction to Elizabeth. Fortunately, he would never see her again and his one indiscretion would be forgotten amid the horrors of war. It was mid-afternoon by the time the camps were set up. Jack had put his rolled up knapsack on the ground and his head had barely hit it when Sam Fisher kicked him in the boot. Jack opened his eyes and saw Sam holding the reins to a very large, healthy horse, a rarity in the Confederate army. Obviously, it had been borrowed on the way north. "Get up Campbell. Direct orders down from Lee. Somebody's to ride back and take this message to General Longstreet. All the other messengers are out on the road." Sam held up the folded paper. "I told the corporal you were the best man. Longstreet's just outside Chambersburg, on this same road. Go find him." Yesterday, Jack was happy for the opportunity to get away from camp. Today was different. He was beat from marching and he was hot. But at least he wouldn't have to walk. The horse looked decent and the air might feel good. He got up, took the reins and the message, and disappeared in a gallop. Jack thought of little besides his mission during the hour it took to get to General Longstreet just east of Chambersburg. There were no Union troops in the area and the local citizens were non-threatening, so his task was fairly easy. Once completed, and after filling his canteen, Jack turned the horse in the direction of Cashtown. He travelled less than half a mile when he passed the road he and Wilson and Sam had taken the day before; the road that led to Elizabeth Wade's farm. Jack pulled up on the reins and brought his horse to a stop. He looked in the direction of her farm, hesitated briefly, and then turned the horse that way with a kick of his boot and an audible urging for speed. Horse and rider quickly crested a hill that overlooked the house, barn, and outbuildings that he recognized from the day before. A moment later he was guiding the mount around to the back of the house. Jack tied the horse to a tree and jumped up on to the back porch. He knocked on the unsteady door. "Who is it?" the familiar female voice called out. "A visitor, ma'am," Jack replied. He saw the curtain on the back window flutter, and then the door opened a crack. He thought he heard her gasp faintly. "I have nothing more to give you. You must know that." "I do, ma'am. I'm not after anything today. May I talk to you?" Jack said. "Talk? About what?" she asked, allowing her full face to be seen behind the door. "About yesterday." She looked bewildered. "That was yesterday. It's done, unless you are returning my flour." Jack grinned. "I can't do that, ma'am. But I can apologize for what the others did to you. It was..." "And what you did does not deserve an apology?" In her irritation, Elizabeth had opened the door enough for Jack to see that she wore a robe instead of a dress; unusual, he thought, for this time of day. "If you'll let me in, ma'am, I'll explain." The door opened another inch or two. "Or will you once again take advantage of me and go back to laugh about it?" "Please," Jack begged. It hit the right chord, and Elizabeth allowed the dusty soldier to enter her kitchen. She walked over to the table and sat in a chair, leaving another for Jack. His eyes never left her even as he sat. The beauty he saw in the thirty year old woman the day before seemed heightened today by her damp hair and fresh face. "I bathed today. Alone. In the same tub your...," she began with obvious anger in her voice. "I'm sorry. I do not know your name," Jack said calmly. The statement so shocked Elizabeth that she never finished her sentence. She said simply, " Elizabeth." "I'm Jack. Jack Campbell. Elizabeth, what those men did to you yesterday was wrong," he said. "You have every right to be mad." "Those men? And what you did was NOT wrong?" Jack paused, watching Elizabeth clutch at the front of her robe as she leaned forward to make her point. Then he said, "I believed I sensed some, um, well, some...willingness." Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Willingness to be taken by a stranger—a rebel stranger, at that—against the wall of my cellar?" Jack had not wanted to say it, but he felt the situation called for it. "Did I not hear you cry out with satisfaction, maybe more than once?" Her face blushed and she tried to pass it off as resentment. "Satisfaction is hardly the word for it." "Then I believe the word is orgasm." There was a towel by Elizabeth's hand and she promptly threw it at him, which Jack barely blocked with one arm. He laughed. "Why are you here, Jack?" she asked. "To insult me some more?" His expression quickly turned serious. "To reassure you, Elizabeth. We are not the awful men you have doubtless heard about. At least, I am not. We want to be here less than you want us. You told me your husband was in Virginia. So is my wife, Elizabeth. That's where I want to be. But when I looked into your eyes yesterday, I saw her. And I saw her fear and loneliness. I saw her need...for me." Elizabeth, already shaken by the man's return, was on the verge of tears. Jack said, "You won't admit it, but it wasn't my eyes you were looking into yesterday, was it?" She lowered her head into her hands on the top of the table and sobbed uncontrollably. Jack pushed the towel toward her and she used it. After a moment, he rose from his chair and walked over to her. Jack put his hand on her back. Elizabeth nearly jumped from her chair and threw herself at him. He instinctively wrapped her in his arms and she did the same. "Oh, Jack. Jack," she wailed. "I want him back." He ran his hand across her hair. "He'll be back, Elizabeth. This has to end soon. The next major battle will finish it. I'm convinced of that." "Do you really believe that?" she sobbed, her face still buried in his chest. "Yes, I do, Elizabeth." It took many seconds for her to gain some control of her breathing again. Still, she didn't loosen her grip on him until she looked up. The day before, he had kissed her first. Today, she instigated the meeting of their lips. If it had been tentative last time, this embrace turned passionate very quickly. Elizabeth's hands reached up to Jack's head, and he stroked her back through the soft robe. The kiss lingered considerably longer than Jack imagined it would. Then Elizabeth said, "Why? Oh God, why?" "Why what, Elizabeth?" "Why did God send you here." Jack clung to her lovingly. He didn't have an answer and felt powerless because of it. "I can't answer that, Elizabeth." "It's OK, Jack. Only He knows," she said, once again looking up into his chiseled face and dark eyes. "Would He approve?" Jack asked, wiping tears from her cheeks. She shrugged. "You stole my flour and sugar. He wouldn't approve of that." "And I took you." She shook her head. "I let you borrow me." Jack put a hand on the opening to her robe, pulling it back just a bit. Her skin was even smoother and brighter than he remembered. Perhaps it was the bath. Perhaps it was the afternoon light. He looked for more and she let him. Elizabeth put a hand in his crotch and barely made contact with his cock. It wasn't hard, like yesterday. She rubbed a little firmer and finally felt the reaction she expected. Jack had one side of the robe open far enough to see the top of one breast. He leaned down and kissed her soft skin. Elizabeth clutched at him and stroked him harder. Her body began to prepare for what she knew would happen; what she wanted to happen. She didn't wait for Jack this time. She leaned back on the table, sat on the edge, and then descended onto the hard, flat surface. Once she was laying down, she untied the robe and drew it open. She watched Jack's eyes scan the entire length of her naked body. Then he started to open his pants. Very quickly, he had them on the floor with his semi-erect cock pointing at Elizabeth. He moved towards her and ran his hands over her breasts. Elizabeth found his shaft and stroked it rapidly, bringing him to a full erection in seconds. "Go slower, Jack," she said softly. "Not like yesterday." He nodded, bending down to lick her breast and suck on the nipple. She held his head in place, forcing it down until he lightly bit her and caused her to moan with joy. She felt his cock against her thigh, stiff and warm. Her pussy was more than ready for him, but Jack was intent on fulfilling her wish. He moved up and kissed her long and hard. Elizabeth wrapped her legs around him in a prelude to sex, her hands roaming his body in anticipation. Jack put a hand between her legs and instantly felt the moisture collected there. He spread it over her clit and Elizabeth gasped louder. He insert a finger inside the warm hole and she lifted her ass off the table to meet his gentle thrusts. "Oh, Jack. Now," she urged. "What happened to slower?" he said with a grin. "Next time." Jack put his cock at the entrance to her hole and nearly didn't have to move. Elizabeth slid down to him at the same time he pushed forward and they came together in a sudden, wonderful fusion. Now, he honestly tried to slow down. He kept a steady, deliberate rhythm that was not at all aggressive or rushed. "That feels amazing, Jack. Just like that, please," Elizabeth said. He put his hands under her ass and held her delicately. He watched her breasts roll on her chest in time with their movements. She occasionally tightened the muscles around his cock, only to hear his groan of approval. Five minutes passed. The pace picked up and their mutual moans grew louder and more frequent. Jack was thrusting into her much harder than before and Elizabeth was begging for more. They were lost in their own worlds, yet could hear each other pronounce how close they were to orgasms. The mutterings merged into one piercing sound as they climaxed together. The otherwise sturdy table rocked under them, but withstood the long, long orgasms that left Jack and Elizabeth exhausted. He collapsed on top of her, beads of sweat on each of their brows. ### Jennie Campbell had no particularly pressing chores to do on the oppressively hot late May day in southern Virginia. She was walking on the farthest edges of the farm, checking on the condition of the field. Feeling exceptionally lonely and having heard the frightening news that Lee had his army clear into Pennsylvania, she walked farther down the wagon path to the most comforting spot she knew: Jackson's lake. The small, but deep lake had been a favorite destination for Jennie and her childhood friends in their earlier years. Spring fed and clean, it was an idyllic place to gather for a swim. Now, it offered solitude as Jennie sat on the bank and thought about Jack and what dangers he faced in a land that seemed so far away. She missed him desperately. He hadn't written in ages. Was he even alive? Wounded and in a hospital somewhere? She threw a stone into the placid water and watched the ripples. She thought back to the splashes that occurred when her and her friends jumped into the lake fifteen years ago. They weren't even ten and they swam naked without giving it a thought. She smiled and wished for those innocent days again. After a few seconds, in a rush of happy memories, Jennie began to undress. Piece by piece, her clothes piled up next to her until she was standing naked in the hot sun. With youthful exuberance, she sprinted ahead and dove head first into the lake. The water was cool and refreshing. Jennie dove down and surfaced again, using both hands to pull her long, soaked hair behind her head. The only thing missing were the shrieks of her playmates as they frolicked next to her. Jennie swam leisurely nearly to the other shore. After a brief pause, she came back. It was then, when she stopped and looked up once more, that she heard the wagon. Her eyes quickly focused on the path near her clothes and she saw a man driving a one horse cart. She recognized him immediately; it was Henry Evans. The twenty year old son of the local grain store operator had treated Jennie to coffee in the store's office the day before. Before she left, their attraction to each other had nearly led to an unfortunate incident. Though Jennie stopped it in time, neither of them could have forgotten about it overnight. Jennie had been like a big sister to Henry, while being only four years older. Any attraction between them now had far more serious consequences than in their early teen years. Henry brought the wagon to a halt and jumped off when he spotted Jennie. "Can't remember the last time I saw you in there," he shouted out to her. "You were just a kid, Henry," she replied. He looked down at her clothes. "I probably didn't even notice back then that you were naked." "Probably not." Jennie was floating with the water up to her neck, her arms treading back and forth under the surface. Henry always had, and she presumed always would, stir something inside of her when she looked at him. He wasn't the strongest or best looking man she'd ever seen. But she liked him, a lot. "Where you heading?" she asked him. "Nowhere, really. The store's being minded and it's slow anyway, so I thought I'd come out and, well, you know, talk to you," he said. "About what?" "About yesterday." "Not much to talk about," Jennie said. "Yeah, but..." Henry dipped his head and kicked at a rock. When it was clear he wasn't going to finish, Jennie said, "Then come in here and let's talk." He looked up with a shocked expression she could pick up even from her distance. "Just like when we were kids, Henry." He moved in slow motion, taking off his shoes first. It seemed to Jennie that it would take him forever to undress. She smiled when he turned to the side, almost with his back to her when the last piece of clothing came off. Then he nearly ran to the edge and dove in head first. Henry wasn't the county's greatest swimmer and Jennie worked her way towards him so they could both stand. Jennie made sure to crouch low enough so the water still covered her to the neck. Henry squatted in an attempt to match her height. The lake wasn't crystal clear and only a hint of Jennie's breasts were visible through the murky water. Still, Henry tried not to stare. "So, let's talk," Jennie said calmly. "I'm sorry for what happened," Henry answered quickly. "Don't be. It was kind of nice," Jennie said. "Nothing came of it." "I want you to be my friend forever. It was damn stupid on my part." Jennie grinned. "We aren't little kids any more, Henry. You fought for two years. I'm married and trying to work a farm. Things happen when you're grownups." "Jack would kill me if he knew I touched you," Henry said. Jennie expressed her uncertainty with a sideways nod of the head. "If he's alive." "He's alive, Jennie. Killing yanks, I hope." She smiled and moved closer. "It's OK to touch me, Henry." His expression turned serious and questioning. Jennie noticed it and suddenly used both hands to splash water up into his face. Henry shouted and turned away, attempting to escape. Jennie leaped after him and ended up on top of his back while Henry attempted to steady himself. She wrapped her arms around his chest and hung on. "Hey, not fair," he bellowed. With surprising strength, he pivoted in place and flung Jennie into the water. She gripped one of his arms at the last second and Henry fell on top of her, stopping himself by inadvertently pressing down on her chest. She was laughing when she got her head above water, next to Henry's stunned face. "Just like when we were kids," she said. But then she reached up for him, pulled Henry down, and covered his mouth with hers. They were barely above the surface while they kissed. Henry struggled to find a place for his knees, ending up straddling his friend's waist. The kiss lasted longer than either of them probably expected and they found themselves clumsily crawling to shallower water. Eventually, Henry was able to lay flat on Jennie, who's torso was now exposed. "Is it OK to touch you like this?" he asked. "It is," she answered. He looked down on her body, mesmerized by its beauty but unsure what to do. The beads of water on her breasts glistened in the bright sunlight. The nipples were hard from the cool water. Henry became aware of his own hardness and tried to move so she wouldn't feel it. It was too late. "Touch them, Henry. Kiss them like you did my lips," Jennie told him. He slid one hand over a single breast, lightly squeezing it before rolling the nipple between his fingers. Then he lowered his head and licked it. Just as Jennie was about to help him with her hand, Henry opened his mouth and engulfed a large portion of the breast. She leaned her head back and sighed with delight as he licked and sucked her tit. Each breast got the same treatment and Jennie felt her pussy tingle. She also felt his erection press against her leg. She reached for it and was surprised at the size. A couple strokes completed the task of making him hard. "Henry, move up so I can...so I can, uh, taste you," Jennie said timidly. He only hesitated for a second. Then he was inching forward on his knees, his rigid cock above the water and moving closer to her face. Jennie guided it with her hand and eagerly put the tip between her lips. Soon, she was methodically bobbing her head up and down on the shaft, sucking it with increased tension as the seconds passed. Henry closed his eyes and reveled in the unexpected event. The 102nd Virginia Ch. 03 (This series is only loosely based on facts surrounding the Gettysburg campaign of 1863. None of the major characters are intended to represent any real persons.) July 6, 1863 Gettysburg, PA It had been three days since twenty five year old Confederate soldier Jack Campbell had been wounded at Gettysburg. He was being taken care of by Elizabeth Wade, a woman he encountered prior to the battle, and her eighteen year old niece, Kate. Jack had been placed in a makeshift hospital immediately after the last day of fighting, but Elizabeth had seen the familiar face and stole him away amid the hustle and bustle. She and Kate were tending to him, without the knowledge of the authorities, in Kate's family's house in the center of town. Jack and Elizabeth's 'relationship', while less than two weeks old, was fraught with torment and lust. Each was married, but separated by great distances and time from their spouses. They found uneasy comfort in each other. Kate was a stunning young blonde, seemingly fearless and intent on healing the southerner under her roof. She was short and thin with a tom-boyish figure and a face to die for. She was the first to enter Jack's room that morning. "Good morning," she announced. "Hi, Kate," Jack said from his bed. "We put a gun on the table," she said calmly. "Just in case." "I saw it. In case of what?" Kate shrugged. "Mom says the army may still be searching for deserters, especially Rebs. Anyway, I'll protect you." Jack smiled. She had already done more than protect him and he was grateful for her personal attention. Besides, looking at her and her Aunt Elizabeth was easier that staring at some sergeant. But he realized the Confederate army was back in Virginia by now, or close to it, while he was laying in a bed in southern Pennsylvania. Kate checked the bandage on his shoulder and declared it 'better.' During the checkup, Jack noticed she had on another one of her simple, drab dresses that tied down the front. While it did nothing to enhance her smallish, youthful breasts, it certainly did highlight her ass and legs. "Who's here?" Jack asked. "Just Aunt Liz and us. My parents are trying to clean up the general store. That's where they work." Jack nodded as he rolled out of bed. "Where you goin'?" Kate asked in her best nurse voice. "To eat." "I'll bring it up. Lay down." Jack paced around the bedroom while breakfast was made. He snuck a few peeks out the window, but made sure nobody could see him in the process. He had no desire to end up in a prison camp after the treatment he was receiving in Kate's house. Before long, he was finishing his eggs and bacon. Kate had stayed with him the entire time to talk. Suddenly, there was a commotion downstairs and Elizabeth's voice could be heard booming above at least one male voice. "Get out of here!" she was yelling. "Move away, ma'am," the man said. "We'll arrest you if we have to." "There's nobody here, I'm telling you!" A door slammed and a plate crashed. "Hey!" Elizabeth shouted. "Don't you dare..." "Johnson! Calm her down while we look around." Kate jumped to her feet and headed for the bedroom door. "Oh my God! Jack! Get the gun. They're coming up here. Damn!" she exclaimed. "Kate. Get out of here. Go...," Jack was saying. "Shhhhh!" Kate waved her hand while looking around the edge of the door. "Damn it. I'll have to stop them," she whispered loud enough for only Jack to hear. The next thing he knew, she was out the door, leaving it cracked open. Jack raced towards it just in time to see the shadows of what looked like two men approaching the top of the steps. Kate stood in the hallway waiting. "Well, lookie here," one of the Union soldiers said with glee. "There IS somebody else here. Mom was lying after all." "Good morning, men," Kate said calmly. "Good morning, honey. You're up awful early." Kate smiled nervously. "Too much noise outside." "Are you alone?" the second soldier asked. "Yep. Just me and, uh, Mom." The men looked at the two doors in the hallway. Kate's small bedroom was opposite the one being used by Jack and her door was wide open. When both men eyed the nearly closed door, Kate knew it was time to act. She twirled the string holding the top of her dress together, pulling on it just enough to untie the bow. The men's eyes were now on her. "I bet you fellas are tired of the war by now," she said mournfully. "So far from home and your women." She pushed her hip out to one side and leaned on the wall farthest away from Jack's room. She crossed her legs at her ankles and tried to look as alluring as possible. The string was being pulled harder, opening her dress another inch. "We could use a break, for sure," the first man said. "Ain't many girls like you in Virginia. And they wouldn't want a northerner anyways." "I would," Kate said innocently. "I love men. Don't care where they're from." One hand was timidly scratching her leg, causing the dress to rise at the same time. She had the men's full attention now. "I bet you do, you pretty little thing." The man who appeared to have seniority over the other, or was simply the more aggressive, stepped towards Kate. Under any other circumstance, she would have run or screamed or fought. This time, she stood and braced herself. He grabbed Kate roughly by both arms and kissed her while pushing her against the wall. Kate struggled mildly, but knew it was useless. In the middle of the embrace, a woman's scream from downstairs echoed in the hallway. Jack dared not move on the creaky wood floors. He watched and listened, realizing that both of the women he cared for and who had cared for him were paying dearly for protecting him. The soldier's hands were all over Kate, clutching at the dress and pulling it up above her knees. "Don't!" Kate managed to say. "Let me go!" She attempted to slap the man and he easily blocked it. He smacked his palm against her face and Kate yelled out in pain, turning her head away while he held her. The man pushed her towards the door to her bedroom and Kate stumbled inside. Jack's view was partially obscured by the second soldier but he saw the first one draw his sword out of its sheath and point it at Kate. "We were going to play nice," the man said. "But if you want it rough, we can do that too." Kate looked on in terror as the sword touched the front of her dress. It slid under the bottom of the tie strings and the soldier turned the sharp end up. "Turn your head, darlin'." Kate looked away, just before the sword was lifted violently, ripping the string in half. Kate gasped and reached for the tattered remains. The man dropped the sword and swatted her hands away. Then he took the divided portion of the dress, above her breasts, and viciously ripped it in two. The split went clear to Kate's waist. Her camisole was the only thing keeping them from viewing her chest and the soldier was intent on continuing. He let the dress fall around her ankles and gave the camisole the same treatment, grabbing it from her shoulders and shredding it as he yanked it down her body. Kate was now naked from the waist up with a pair of drawers below that. The man put both hands on her tits and squeezed them until she screamed. Then he put his mouth around one of them and sucked. Kate was not the most well-endowed young woman in Gettysburg and it seemed to Jack, as he watched, that the man was able to put the entire tit in his mouth, or at least he tried. Kate growled in protest, only to have Elizabeth's shrieks from downstairs drown her out. After a few seconds, the man pushed Kate towards the bed and she staggered against it, falling backwards when her feet got tangled in her clothes. Instantly, he was upon her, ripping off her drawers and shoes. Naked now, she lay on the bed in complete surrender while the two men stared at her beauty. The man who attacked her started taking off his pants. Kate and Jack looked on in horror as he exposed his massive, swollen cock. Jack wanted to make his move, but it was too quiet. He needed to get the gun. He scolded himself for not taking it when Kate told him too, but he had been too concerned about her. Now that decision was going to cost her. The man took her legs and shoved them apart, partially lifting her off the bed at the same time. "No! Please!," she screamed as he moved closer. She felt the cock on her pussy. "Nooooooooo!" The thrust was brutal. It felt to Kate like he was ripping her in two, same as her dress. He pounded harder and faster each time and she saw the second man taking out his cock. It was just as big and just as hard. "Stop! Stop! Oh please God! Noooooo!" Jack moved away from the door while she screamed. As quickly and quietly as possible, he got to the table and took the gun. He returned to the door amid more screams from downstairs. Jack opened it just wide enough to squeeze out. He was in the hall. The man was playing with Kate's tits in the midst of her ever-increasing shouts and Jack decided to end it. Not wanting to fire the gun and warn whoever was downstairs, he raised it high and brought it down on the back of the head of the second soldier with lethal authority. It only took a second to then reach down for the sword. The last thing the first soldier ever saw was Jack lunging at him. Kate managed to slide away just before having the man fall flat on top of her. "Oh my God, Jack. Thank you. Thank you!" "You killed him in self defense, understand?" Jack told her. Kate nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Aunt Liz!" "I know. C'mon." Jack handed the sword to Kate and they headed for the stairs together. Half way down they saw a man standing behind Elizabeth, who was draped over the back of a chair. He was far too occupied with his own actions to worry about whether or not it was his two companions coming down the steps. He would only live a few seconds longer. The bloody sword was tossed aside by Jack and he put his arms the trembling, naked Elizabeth. "I'm so scared," she sobbed. "What is happening to us?" "It's OK. It's OK," Jack assured her. "I'll have to leave here and you'll be safe again." "But how?" Elizabeth said between sniffles. "They'll see you." "Not if I'm under a pile of something in the back of your wagon," he replied. "We'll go to Maryland. It's only a few miles south. If I can get there we'll all be safer." "Oh Jack. I can't...I don't want to...please don't leave me." He ran his hand over her disheveled hair. "I have to, Elizabeth." He looked over at Kate who was trying to hold back her tears. "I'm going with you," she said. "They won't question two women together." Jack looked at Elizabeth for any signs of agreement, but she would not freely give it. She clung to him even tighter. ### July 7, 1863 Emmitsburg, MD Frank Simmons and John Connors had heard the guns at Gettysburg, a mere ten miles to the north across the Pennsylvania/Maryland border. Despite the fact their hometown of Emmitsburg, Maryland was in a border state--technically neutral during the past two years of fighting--the residents all sympathized with one side or the other. Frank and John were secessionists in their late thirties. They aligned with the Confederacy in philosophy, while never serving in the military. But they did clandestinely participate in raids sporadically held to disrupt communication lines or supply trains heading north to Pennsylvania, or south into Baltimore and Washington. They were ever-wary of suspicious activity in the counties surrounding Emmitsburg. They were not opposed to using whatever devices were necessary to 'dissuade' supporters of the North from being too vocal or offering too much assistance. Frank and John were rarely destructive of personal property, but they were not above using scare tactics. One such foray on this day took them to the outskirts of Taneytown, east of Emmitsburg and the place where the bulk of General Meade's Union army had been the days leading up to Gettysburg. Word had reached the two men of a farm family that had been particularly friendly towards the yankees and had fed the officers well. It was time to pay a visit. Frank and John stopped on a hill overlooking the sprawling farm to assess everything and try to determine how much opposition they might face. They could easily make out a man working a field on one side of the house and a female—they couldn't tell how old—feeding chickens on the other side. "OK," Frank said. "Don't look too difficult. Let's figure anybody inside is either a kid or a female." "Who do you want to work on this time? The man or woman?" John asked. "Gotta see how old they are," Frank answered. "If they're old, the man. If they're younger, the woman. Young bucks are more likely to pay attention when their sweetheart is being threatened." After a short pause, he said, "Let's go." Frank and John rode down the hill in a leisurely pace. This was not the time for a sudden charge. If it went according to plan, a little talking to first would lead to more forceful action later, all without incident. As they approached the farm, they could both see that the adults outside were not young, maybe in their early forties. Past experience told them this would be an easier exercise. The young ones liked to fight. They rode up towards the house, which would bring them in contact with the female first. She looked to be average height and weight, wearing a typical light weight summer dress. She was well-tanned with dark hair. She gave the men a distrustful glance when it was obvious they were coming up to her. "Afternoon, ma'am," Frank said, tipping the brim of his hat. She was silent. "Wondered if you could assist us for a moment," he added. "How?" the woman said tersely. "I guess you heard 'bout the big fight in Gettysburg." He waited for a reply and only saw a brief nod from her. "Did you know it was coming? Surprised the hell out of us, didn't it John?" "Yep," John said. "Didn't know a thing," she said, throwing a handful of seed to the hens at her feet. "Really?" Frank said, climbing off his horse. "Hard to believe darn near hundred thousand troops could pass by unnoticed." "We keep to ourselves." "Tell me," Frank said. "If the entire Union army passed through here, would you be happy or mad?" "We're simple farmers with no sons. We don't care one way or nother 'bout the war." "Frank," John said. Frank looked up and saw John nodding towards the house. The husband was walking their way, still out of earshot. He asked the woman, "Got any daughters?" "No!" she said quickly and emphatically. Frank smiled and waited for the husband to reach them. The farmer was sweating, wiping his brow with a plaid handkerchief. "Good day, sir," Frank said. "We were just checking up on your daughter." The man looked baffled. "What about her?" Frank looked at the wife, but asked the husband, "Do you know where she is?" "Supposed to be in town." John got off his horse, knowing that trouble was a distinct possibility very soon. He put his hand near his pistol, just in case. "How many Union soldiers passed through here last week?" Frank asked him. "What's goin' on here?" the farmer wanted to know. "Did something happen to Jennie?" "I'm sure Jennie's fine," Frank said calmly. "But I think we need to talk." John drew his gun and aimed it at the man. "Hey!" "Shut up," Frank said in his roughest tone yet. "Let's go the barn, shall we." At gunpoint, the man and woman walked side-by-side into the large, two level barn. "Watch for the girl," Frank told John. "Got it," John said. Frank looked around, seemingly searching for something or some place that was in his mind only. Finally, he said, "Over here." He led the couple near a stall and told them to stop. They watched Frank walk over to a close by workbench and pick up a short piece of rope. He approached the husband. "Now don't be putting up a fuss, old man. We got guns. You don't. And I bet you don't want your lovely little wife hurt, do you?" The man didn't answer as Frank was already tying his hands behind his back. Then he tied the remainder of the rope around a post, securing the man to it. Finally, the farmer said, "What do you want? We got money if that's it." Frank smiled. "Money won't do us no good. We want answers 'bout what you did to help the yankees that murdered our boys at Gettysburg. Maybe we can persuade you to see things our way from here on out. And your wife is a lousy liar so I'm depending on both of you to tell me the whole truth. Anything less might be, well, painful...for the wife and your little girl." Frank approached the woman. "What's your name, honey?" "Mary." Frank spied her from head to toe. She wasn't as plain as he first thought now that he saw her close up, although she was not stunning by any means. His guess of forty was about right, he thought. "Well, Mary. I admire you protectin' your daughter like that, but I'm really disappointed you lied about Meade and his army. John and I don't take kindly to two things: liars and northern sympathizers." He walked around her, looking her over like he would a new horse. Then he walked back over to the workbench and took hold of a much longer, neatly wound rope. Frank let part of it fall to the floor, judging its overall length in the process. The moment he flung one end over a beam high above them, the husband shouted, "No. Stop it. Want do you want to know?" "I'm tellin' you. It's too late for information," Frank said, grappling with the end of rope now hanging down from the ceiling. "It's time for persuadin'. Conversion. Seein' the light." Frank stood behind Mary. "Put your hands behind your back, sweetheart." She complied amid her husband's continued protests and, soon, Frank had her wrists secured within a significant knot. "Get on your knees," he ordered. Mary sank down onto the dirt and sawdust. Then Frank pulled on the rope until her arms were stretched out above her head. He tied the other end to a nearby post. "Please! I beg you," the husband whined. "Don't hurt her. Mary didn't do anything to you." "She fed the officers that led the army that killed our men last week," Frank said, walking back in front of Mary. "In a Confederate court, that would get you executed. Since we're in Maryland, we'll do it our own way. She may WANT to die before it's over." Frank put his hand on the woman's chin and ran his palm across her cheek. Then the hand fell to the top button at the front of her dress. He opened the top two buttons slowly. At that point it appeared to him as though she had nothing on under the dress and he grinned. "It's sure hot out, isn't it Mary." She was looking at the floor. Another two buttons were open and the top of her breasts were visible. Frank leaned down and finished the job to her waist. The dress hung across the outer half of her tits, giving a tantalizing hint of the skin underneath. Frank reached for the knife attached to his belt. With composed precision, he cut open the straps across her shoulders and the dress plunged to her knees. He ran the tip of the blade across her ample breasts and dark pink nipples. Mary's eyes were closed the entire time. They opened again when he heard Frank walk away. She watched him reach up onto the barn wall and pull down a leather whip. The end was tattered from long-time use and Frank pulled it across his palm. "Perfect," he pronounced just loud enough for Mary to hear. "I beg you. Please don't..." "Shut up!" Frank shouted at Mary's husband. Then he dragged the ragged end of the whip over her breasts; very slowly, stopping completely at each nipple. The next pass was a little faster. And then another.