The Major's Wife

by The Major's Wife (lit)

  Claralee lifted her head and tears spilled down her cheeks. Her throat hurt when she tried to speak. “Tank ya.”

  “Do not even try to talk. Just rest. We both are going to be fine.” They sat together with Ruby’s arms around the large woman. “I have a plan. I will talk and you nod yes or no. We might end up dead if the plan does not work, but we are going to end up dead anyway when he gets back.

  “Can you read or write?” Claralee shook her head. “Well, neither can I, except a few words Lucretia taught me. So you will have to remember the words. Can you do that?” Claralee nodded. “‘Lulu needs help.’ That is what you have to learn. Can you remember that? ‘Lulu needs help.’”

  The large woman smiled and nodded. Ruby continued. “Now, more to learn. You need to know the names I will say to you, just so you can tell the man at the telegraph office.”

  Claralee shook her head. “Dunna know telergraph.” Her voice was raspy, but she could at least be understood.

  “Do you know where to find a telegraph office?” Claralee shook her head again. “Then ask a policeman or go into a bank and ask or even hotel lobbies. Or a train station. Yes, that is the best place. You will need some money. We can steal it if we have to, but we will get some someplace.”

  “I git money.” She smiled her confidence.

  “Then let us get back to the words you need to learn. They are the words you must say to the man in the telegraph office. You want to send telegraphs to Cottonwood Creek, General Stanley Cotton in Saint Louis, Mrs. Elizabeth Harold, and Sergeant Michael O’Brien in Saint Louis. I know that is a lot to remember, but they are the only people I can think of who can find the man we need.”

  Claralee practiced until she could recite all the names in a singsong rhythm, much like children used to remember the alphabet. Ruby hugged her again to show her delight. “Now I am going to tell you a story that will explain why we must find this man. His name is Black Eagle Grant…like Mr. Grant, the president. He was a soldier at the fort where…”

  The story was long, but Claralee listened with excited eyes. “Da love themselves? Like a storybook?”

  “Yes, they do, even if they won’t admit it. He is the only one who can stop LaClaire if I do not make it out of here alive, and that is likely. So we must get him to New Orleans. Now, when you go to the telegraph office, tell the man to say in the telegraph that the Eagle must go to New Orleans to help Lulu.”

  Claralee giggled. “Eagle! Dat’s a funny name fer a man. Eagle!”

  Ruby was careful to keep impatience out of her voice. Claralee was like child in so many ways. “Yes, it is. He is half Indian and that is an Indian name.”

  “Ain’t never fuck an Indian. Da like reg’lar men?”

  “Yes, like regular men with all the same equipment. Now, Claralee, what are you going to tell the telegraph man?”

  Claralee became serious. “Dat Eagle need go ta New Orleans to help Lulu. Dat right?”

  Ruby hugged her again. “Just perfect. Now, let’s work on you remembering who to send the telegraphs to.” It seemed to Ruby that it took forever before Claralee finally got them all right.

  “Now, as long as the monster can fuck you, he will keep you alive. He hates me, so he will kill me. Unless…unless we can trick him into believing I am already dead.” It was such a simple plan that they decided it would work. Claralee would babble and cry about the alligator—biggest in the entire swamp—crawling into the shack and dragging Ruby with it into the water. Claralee would run down the road toward town and act like she was in a daze, totally frightened.

  Ruby took off her dress, which left her naked but for her chemise and underskirts. She dragged her dress back and forth from the water to the shack and back several times, making it look like something heavy had scraped the mud. She then tore her dress into pieces and tossed them to float away on the slight bayou current. They stood arm in arm, watching the sun rising low between the trees as the sound of a carriage carried toward them, warning them to start their final part of the plan. They kissed good-bye before Claralee ran toward the noise and Ruby disappeared into the muddy, dark swamp forest behind the shanty.

  PART III

  Chapter 75

  Another pair of eyes watched the sun as it sent its first rays of the day across the barren landscape of the high desert of Mexico. The bright light hurt his eyes, which were bloodshot and burning from lack of sleep and too much tequila. He was lying on the ground in the dust behind a cantina in some sleepy town just outside of nowhere. His last memory was stepping outside the back door to take a leak. His pants were still down and his shriveled penis was exposed. He quickly looked around, but no one was in sight. He stood, pulling his filthy army pants up, and tightened his belt.

  To all the gods, what have I become? he thought. He knew what he had become: a drunken man with an Indian father and a white mother. A man wanted by neither and no one, except the army. He never should have resigned. He had been good at his job. Now his hands shook so much, he could not hold his gun enough to shoot a moving turtle.

  He rubbed his eyes, trying to make the blurring go away. He was still drunk enough that he staggered as he walked to the stable across the street. It took him two tries to get his horse saddled. He tried to remember if he had paid in advance, but could not, so he left a couple of pesos on a saddle on the ground beside the stable doors.

  He filled his canteen and a couple of water bags from the questionable water of the horse trough in the shade of the stable and then mounted. He turned his horse north and let the beast set its own pace in the blazing heat.

  Whether or not it was sleep or he had passed out again was unimportant, but when he awoke, he felt some better. He realized they had traveled some distance because the terrain had changed. Ahead he saw a line of small trees, indicating water. He urged the horse forward.

  He and the horse both drank from the small creek. He emptied his canteen and water bags, rinsed them several times, and refilled them with fresh water. He walked into the water and sat down, letting its coolness penetrate his clothes, which he stood to remove. He pounded them on rocks first to get out as much of the dirt and grime as he could before rinsing them again and laying them on the riverbank to dry in the sun. He returned to the water, where he scrubbed his body with gritty sand and then lay on his back in the stream to wash it all away.

  The sun above warmed his body, while the water cooled him. He closed his eyes and soon dozed. He dreamed of his grandmother, Summer Swan, who sometimes spoke to him with messages from his gods. This time she was silent, but mouthed one word over and over. Finally, he realized the word was Lulu. An image of the woman floated through a black sky where Summer Swan had been. The image changed as it settled down in front of him. Her face moved to his and he awoke. A school of tiny fishes was nibbling at his hair.

  This time he did not curse his dream. He closed his eyes, hoping it would return, but as most dreams, it would not. Finally, he climbed out of the creek to retrieve his clothing. He stopped short. His clothes were gone and so was his horse. He ran to the bank, looking in all directions when he heard a noise in the shrubs. He moved nonchalantly that way until he was close to where the noise had originated. He suddenly dove into the bushes and grabbed a head of hair so hard it produced a scream.

  “Let go of me, you shit.”

  If the language had not surprised him, the small woman did. She kicked him in the groin so hard he let go of her and groped his manhood, moaning as he bent. When the pain subsided somewhat, he looked up. “Why did you do that? Christ, all you had to do was ask.”

  “You were hurting me, asshole.” She had the blackest hair he had ever seen outside his own tribe. It was braided and fell nearly to her full hips. The size of her tits made it clear that she was no child, even though hardly taller than one.

  “I am sorry I hurt you. Now, where are my clothes and horse? I want to get moving.”

  “You are not going anywhere until we say you can.”

  “W
e? Who is we?”

  “My friend and I. Her name is Concha. She has your horse and clothes. If you hurt me, you will never see that animal again.”

  “Why did you take them? I have no money.”

  “It is not for money. We saw you in the water and decided you look enough like her husband that you could be brothers. He is cruel to her and beats her because she has not given him a child. If you mount her and she gets your seed, her husband will think it is his and will be happy.”

  “What do you think I am? A horse ready for stud service? I have never heard of anything so loco as that. Forget it. Now give me my horse and clothes.”

  She laughed. “You are not in any position to order me to do anything.” She walked casually toward him, sliding her dress over her head as she walked. He felt her tits against his chest and a prick of a knifepoint just above his penis. “I think you might want to give in to my demand.” She continued to rub her breasts against him.

  He watched her face, seeing a change in her eyes. Without conscious effort, he lifted a hand to cover her hardening breast. Her intake of breath told him what every man wants to hear. She wanted him. Just as he slid his hand down her taut stomach, she stepped away. “Concha, come. He is ready for you.”

  A few seconds later, another young woman stepped out of the shrubs. She was taller than her friend, but just as endowed. Concha was already naked as she moved to him to press her body against his. “I have been watching you and Mayte. Your cock likes Mayte. Will it like me, too?” She bent her head to his chest and licked one of his nipples and then the other.

  Eagle felt his penis harden even more. His hands had minds of their own as they roamed her sleek body until they found her tits and the bush between her legs. He rubbed her, feeling the wetness as he used his thumb to work her clit until she moved and began to moan. He moved her body to the ground and, without further preliminaries, gave her what she wanted. His cock slid into her easily. His hips moved in a rhythm she immediately matched.

  Mayte dropped down beside them to reach between their bucking hips. Her fingers found Concha’s swollen button and rubbed it, adding to her friend’s pleasure. Eagle felt her fingers moving against his dick, too, exciting him further. When they exploded, she lay beside them smiling. “How was that, my Concha? Did you feel his seed?”

  “Yes,” Concha answered weakly. “It was good and his seed went deep. Next time, he can put it in me from behind so it goes to the opening where babies are made.”

  Eagle rolled off and looked at them in amazement. “Next time? What next time? By all the gods, there will be no next time.”

  Mayte laughed. “Oh, stud man, there will be a next time. Maybe several next times. If you are a good boy, you might be on your way by dark. Now just rest and watch. The next time will be your idea, I promise.”

  Chapter 76

  He was on his way by dark. He did not remember ever being so drained, physically and mentally. The two women had used him in every way he had ever known a man could be used. In addition, he had enjoyed it until he could barely move. They gave him water and some pemmican to eat and let him sleep for an hour at a time, but that was all.

  Mayte had promised the next time would be his idea and he had to admit it was. He watched as the two naked females rubbed each other with some sort of oil that made their skin glisten, even in the shadows where they lay on the fragrant grass. Soon they were rubbing their breasts together and suckling on each other.

  He felt himself stirring as Concha spread Mayte’s legs and her hands moved up into the joining. Mayte spread her hips as wide as she could. Concha lowered her head so she could insert her tongue into Mayte’s wetness, lapping at the swollen clit until Mayte was crying and moving her hips up and down.

  Black Eagle could stand it no longer. He moved to drop to his knees behind the swaying ass Concha offered him. He grabbed her by the waist as she pushed herself up on her knees to give him a perfect angle to reach her innermost womanhood. She moaned, but did not stop licking Mayte’s pussy. From his position, he watched his cock slide in and out and the movements of the women.

  Mayte’s orgasm came first, then his own. Concha did not move, but remained with her ass in the air after he pulled out. She smiled at him when he dropped on his back beside her. She lifted her head to kiss his mouth gently. Mayte rolled her head under Concha and began to suck the swollen clit as if it were a cock. Concha moved up and down as if fucking it into the other woman’s mouth until her cries for more let them know she had her release, too.

  Still, she did not move. Breathlessly, she explained that the seed would work its way into her hole more easily in this position, which made sense to Eagle. He was exhausted and beginning to feel like the stud horse he had mentioned earlier. Not that he had not enjoyed it, but it was sheer sex and nothing more. Not like with Lucretia…

  Lucretia was the last thing he wanted to think about when he felt a mouth on his dropping penis. Behind his closed eyes, he felt and remembered. He remembered the softness of her mouth, the gentle sucking that brought desire back to him, even as his cock was still pulling away. This was much the same. His hips moved to the slow rhythm of Lucretia’s mouth—no, Mayte’s mouth. Soon it did not matter. She rode him hard and he called out her name as he spurted. “Lucretia, Lucretia.”

  Mayte did not stop until her body found its release. She collapsed atop of him, letting her cheek rub his chest. “Who is Lucretia? She must be something, as no man before you has ever mistaken me for anyone else.”

  Eagle did not answer, just rolled her away as he stood. “Now I want my horse and clothes. Or do I have to tear the hair out of both of your heads to get it? You got what you wanted. I got more than I wanted or expected, but now I want to be on my way.”

  Mayte, graceful as a deer in her nakedness, disappeared in the shrub and returned a few minutes later with the horse and clothes. He washed again in the creek and dressed in the stiff pants, but just folded the shirt and put it in his saddlebag.

  Concha remained on her shoulders and knees, ass in the air. “Good-bye, Stud Man. It is best we know not your name and you cannot find us. Your seed will find its way into my belly and it will be a fine boy for my husband. Mayte is already with child, so there will be only one. Thank you.”

  Eagle laughed. “This is the first time any woman has thanked me for fucking her. You are most welcome, both of you. It was an enjoyable way to spend a day.” He mounted his horse and nodded as he accepted the bag of food Mayte handed him. It did not enter his mind until much later that he should have told her that he was half white. He hoped her offspring did not show up with light-colored skin, or worse yet, blue eyes. Well, what was done was done and he could change nothing now.

  It was dark, but he felt no need to stop. The horse was rested and they could ride all night. Morning should bring him to the Rio Grande. Again, he would let the horse determine their path. He did not know where he would go next, but he would at least be back where he belonged.

  Chapter 77

  Claralee ran screaming toward the oncoming carriage. Her bellows were so loud that she sounded more like a banshee than a human being. Even the horses reared, forcing Devereaux to pull them down before he had time to look down the path.

  “Whore!” he shouted at her as the carriage came to a stop. “You stop that wailing and come there. Tell me why you left the bitch alone, when I told you to stay with her at all times.”

  He raised his horsewhip as if to strike her when she cried, “No, sir, dunna hit me. Big gator got her.” He lowered the whip, waving his hand for her to climb in the carriage.

  “In the back, Whore. Not up here with me. You smell like a swamp. Now, tell me again, calmly, exactly what happened.”

  “Jist as da sun come up, I wen outside ta pee. Heard a roar ‘n’ a scream. Bigges’ gator I ever seed was adraggin’ Ruby acrost the floor and den down inta da water. Were nuttin’ I could do, Sir. She scream, callin’ my name. Den it git quiet but for lotta splashing. Den I ran
. Maybe him come back fer me. Gators like big wimens…lotta meat on big wimens.”

  “A lot of fat, you mean. Well, it does not matter. Actually, the gator did me a favor. Last night I decided I would kill her this morning, but I really would have liked to watch her die.”

  The carriage stopped at the shanty. Devereaux jumped down to inspect the floor of the shack and the trail to the water. A piece of satin floated on the surface. “Looks like you were telling the truth. Maybe I won’t kill you today, like I planned.”

  Claralee’s face seemed to collapse at his words. “No, sir, no kill me. I be a good whore fer ya. Never charge ya ever agin to fuck. Will do anythin’ ya wan. Does ya want some now?” She lifted her dress as she stood in the back of the carriage.

  “Yes, I think I do. Get down here and suck me hard.” He stood, dropping his pants as she strained to get down. “Oh, hell, just lie down on the seat and put your fat head over the side. Ah, that is right. Keep going. Do not stop until your mouth is full of cum.”

  When he was done, he climbed back in the carriage. “Tell you what, Whore. I will take you back to your place. If word ever gets out about the bitch, I will know who told. It is probably not in my best interests to keep you alive, but I like fucking you. Few women are big enough to take a cock the size of mine and you are one of them.”

  It was all Claralee could do not to laugh. Big cock, she thought. I have seen bigger ones on little boys. Well, if you want to hear about your size, old Claralee sure will tell you all about it in the future.

  Devereaux whistled as he drove off. Once the carriage was out of sight, Ruby came out of the swampy forest wearing only her shoes, chemise, and petticoat. She’d hidden a far distance from the shack on the path, secreting herself when the road came to a cross one. She had no idea which way to go from there. When the carriage turned left, she followed that direction. She had no idea where she was, but hoped that there were not any more crossroads. The carriage was so far ahead that she could no longer see, nor hear it. From here on, she was literally alone and on her own. If you did not count the gators watching her as she walked or the snakes that dangled from the trees overhead.