Date: Mon, 20 Sep 2010 22:10:41 -0700
From: Jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: "Southern Officer"  by Jay Roberts    Gay Historical

+++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