Date: Sat, 14 Jul 2018 13:57:05 -0400
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: The Battle for Lonely Rock, Chapter Six

                    THE BATTLE FOR LONELY ROCK
            Chapter Six: Upon My First Day of Freedom
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     Having read my tale of woe as a Confederate prisoner, and being
reduced to exchanging sexual favors for food, you can understand my
overwhelming joy at seeing a friendly face, and that in Union blue! I
embraced him all naked and dirty as I was, and he did not flinch away from
my arms.
     "Captain? Captain Whelan, sir?" came a voice beside us and I looked to
see a hapless private interrupting his superior officer. "Sir, Colonel
Brooks asked to see you, sir!"
     "Whelan?" I said with a large grin. I had learned my friend's last
name; Hunter was a name I had given him myself when he refused all names.
     Hunter ignored me. "Very well. This is a Union prisoner we have just
freed. Take him back to our camp and give him a bath and then escort him to
my tent and find some proper clothes for him."
     That reminded me of my state. "My clothes are right here." I said,
running over to the small depression and scooping them out of the dust. By
the time I climbed into them and turned around, Hunter was gone.
     "What were you doing naked?" the private asked me.
     "Staying alive." I said to him.
     He sobered at that. "That's better'n most people managed here today."
he admitted.
     The sounds of agony reverbrated anew in my ears. Bodies were all
around us, men who were dead, and men who were dying and men who would live
a while longer and then die, and some who would live after all, but
screamed now in pain of a lost finger or gouge from their flesh.
     There were men seeing to the dying and wounded, but not nearly
enough. Two small wagons were there to ferry the wounded back to the
doctor, if they even had one with them.
     I noticed that nobody was helping the Confederate wounded, except that
a few helped others, ignoring their own agony to tend another's.
     "What about the Rebs?" I asked the private as he led me to his
horse. "Isn't anyone going to get them to the doctor?"
     He shrugged. "Our doc will tend them after he's done with our own. If
he doesn't fall over in a faint, first."
     I got on the horse in solemn silence. War was like that. Cruelty on
purpose and cruelty by indifference. So I had always heard, and so it
was. But I, at least, was saved, and for that I had to be grateful. I held
onto the private's slim waist as I rode away from that carnage.
     The Union camp was so much like the Confederate camp as to make no
difference. Only the uniforms, and the small American flag flying from one
of the tents told of their allegiance.
     "How went the battle, sir?" a black man called out. Negroes weren't
permitted to fight but they could act in their usual and customary duties
as servants, washers and horse tenders.
     "We gave them better than we got once we got in among them." the
private bragged.
     "That's good!" the Negro grinned. "That's mighty good, sir!"
     "You damned right it is!" the private with me stopped his horse and
said to me, "You go with Syracuse here and he'll see to it that you can
have a bath and I'll try to rustle up something that'll fit you beside
those rags."
     "I'd really appreciate that." I said gratefully. "And some food, too,
if you got it."
     "I'll ask the Captain if I can fix from his supplies." the private
said. "You seem to be a friend of his. What did you call him, Thunder?"
     "Hunter." I said. "Only name I knew for him until today. What's his
real name? Tell me about him, man, he's my friend but he's mighty
close-mouthed about his past."
     "Captain Joshua Whelan." The private said. "Other than that, you know
as much as I do. He joined us a few days ago with orders to help secure the
silver mines, and he had his own kit and tuck on a packhorse with
him. Other than that, you know him better."
     "Oh." Oh, well, at least I knew his name now, I thought as I went with
Syracuse. He found me a mid-sized tub and toted water for me, heating the
first pail over a campfire so it would be warm on me when I was ready for a
rinse. I was too grateful to be getting clean, really clean, that I didn't
care about the cold water, I used the lye soap Syracuse gave me and
scrubbed away happily.
     Done, feeling thoroughly clean, the thought of putting on those filthy
prison clothes was too much, I waved them away and walked naked with
Syracuse to Hunter's tent. I would just stay inside or wrap a blanket
around me until I got proper clothes. Lonely Rock wasn't that far away, I
could manage until I got back to the Salcedos once again.
     Inside, I perched on the cot and looked around and nearly jumped. That
small trunk looked just like mine. I looked closer, hell, it WAS mine! I
opened it and there were my clothes and I was pulling them out happily when
the tent flap opened and Hunter walked in.
     "You got my stuff!" I said, showing him my clothes. "This is what I
was wearing when they picked me up!" Even my boots were there, I could get
rid of these cheap worn shoes I now wore.
     "Yep, I figured you'd need them when I caught up with you." Hunter
said.
     "Caught up with me?" I asked. "You were looking for me?"
     "Partly." He said, smiling. "That wonderful ass of yours has been
wiggling itself in my dreams ever since I left. But I went to Lonely Rock
and learned that you'd been taken prisoner by the Rebels, and so I figured
I'd run into you sooner or later."
     "You sure did." I said and got up and hugged him in my arms. Now he
was the dirty one, filthy with dust and grime and the smell of gunpowder. I
knocked his hat back with my head when I reached up to kiss him and the
line of the brim was there, dirt below, clean above, pink and brown. His
mustache was dusty, too, and it tickled my nose, I had to sneeze and I
broke away from his kiss to do so.
     As I leaned back and turned my head away from him to sneeze, he leaned
down and after my nearly cat-like "k-chf!" he caught and nibbled at my
neck, his big, hairy hands, clean because of the gloves he had worn all
day, caught my buttocks and pulled me against his raging erection, his
jacket raising a cloud of dust. I moaned and let him nip at my neck with
his teeth for he was just rough enough to be pleasant, gentle enough to be
endurable, desirable.
     "Ah, damn, Ben!" Hunter growled huskily in my ear. "I've missed you,
kid!"
     "I've missed you, too." I said, clinging to him. He was my hero, my
rescuer, my knight in shining armor. I could see why those princesses in
the fables would offer to marry just anyone who set them free, you have to
have lost your freedom to know the gratitude that wells within you toward
anyone who gives you back your liberty once again!
     So when his fat finger slid between my buttocks and touched my
sphincter, I only groaned with pleasure, and my anus of its own volition
sucked at the fingertip, pulling it inwards.
     "Mmm, you're hot for it, aren't you, boy?" he murmured in my ear and
then nipped the lower lobe, held and worried it in his teeth.
     "Oh, yeah!" I moaned. "Come on, Hunter, give it to me again. Wash all
that Rebel jizz out of my butt but good!"
     "They were fucking you, huh?" he said. "Turned you into the camp
whore?"
     I shuddered at the memories. "I don't want to think about it now." I
said to him urgently. "I never want to think about it ever again. Just fuck
me...if you still want me?" I asked, my heart falling into my shoes.
     He caught my head's hair in his hand and pulled my head back so we
could be face to face. "I want you." he growled at me, his eyes boring into
mine, deep jet-black pools that had no pupils in them I could
distinguish...his eyes weren't just dark brown, they were true black!
"Don't you ever doubt that, kid."
     And his lips came up against mine and I kissed him, really all-out,
let his tongue slide into me with welcome, felt it not as a soft invader,
but as a benediction and blessing, a renewal of myself.
     "Oh, God, Hunter!" I moaned when he pulled back from me, he was
panting heavily and his breaths poured onto my face with the flavor of
strong, manly living, of meat cooked over a campfire, of beers knocked back
in a tavern, of horses' harness held in the teeth while the hands were
busy, all combining to give a flavor of its own, deep, sensually masculine,
unapologetically outdoorsy, the robust West seeping from his every pore! I
was bathed anew in this scent, that of clean living, hard riding, rough
working, all-man adventure! "God, fuck me now, right now, please, right
now!" I begged him shamelessly. My hands jerked down like quivering lumps
of pudding, fumbled at his trouser buttons, begging them to open to their
ineffective touches.
     Hunter's hands came down and joined mine, then pushed them away. His
rougher, bolder fingers unfastened those recalcitrant buttons, opened his
pants and a burst of musky male warmth exuded and caressed my stomach. I
reached down again and his manhood waited for me there as his lips found
mine again, I wrapped my fingers around his tall, proud, clean shaft and
they burned away my humiliation with the simple, earnest flame of its
desire for me, the powerful love-tool throbbed as I pulled upwards on it,
Hunter moaned softly into my mouth and his cockhead wept its slimy tear
onto my thumb, an oily pool of sticky muck and Hunter shuddered with his
need, it vibrated through me, and his eyes burst into flames of dark fire
that seared me with their power, and his hand grabbed me roughly and spun
me around.
     I bent over and grabbed the top of the trunk that was there, his not
mine, this was much larger and of time-grayed, uncured wood instead of the
rich, red-brown, nearly effeminate trunk of stained oak that was mine.
     His cock was impudently hard as it crammed into my ass and plowed its
way into me, and this was all right with me in a way that all the Rebel
cocks had been wrong when they did the same. This time, this was what I
wanted as well as he, there was no force, no payment, no submission of mine
save that I gave myself to Hunter willingly, eagerly, when the hard shaft
plunged into me, it did so to a tide of seething warmth from my bowels that
wrapped it, urged it inwards, onwards, upwards, into me, well within me,
oh, God, all the way through me, purge me, cleanse me, take me!
     I trembled like a child before a parental punishment, but there was
only joy within me, joy that sprang from Hunter's prick like an arrow into
my vitals, penetrating and cleansing me with vibrant delight that poured
out of me from the inside out, spreading out like the warmth from a fire
spreads out over and through a room, in all directions at once, until even
the furthest corner revels in the warm currents.
     And now, my spirit sang to me, now we are renewed once more! I felt
this and I groaned, and Hunter took that groan for acceptance and he began
to hump lustily at my rump, his hips slamming against my buttocks, driving
that thick dong into me, I felt its power, I felt its supremacy, it owned
me, he owned me, utterly, and this man without a past washed away my past,
as well, washed it into the ocean of forgetfulness where it could never
hurt me the more.
     "Uh, huh, guh, hah!" Hunter gasped in his rutting fury, "Damn, kid,
you got a tight butt on you still! Damn, that's good, that's so damned
good, kid, I love this butt, I love fucking you, kid, love this ass, love
you!"
     My answer was a sobbing, exhausting moan, and I sagged down to lay my
chest against the trunk lid, and Hunter rode down with me, squatting over
me now so he could continue to drive that hard dong into me, now he rocked
the trunk with his thrusts, his cock pulsed and pounded inside of me as it
was rammed in and out, my body's heart throbbed in tune with that pulsing
beat, and the breaths of Hunter's throat that poured onto the back of my
neck, my lungs took that for their tempo and I heaved in tune with him.
     I felt my cock heating up even though I did not, could not, touch it
in this tight confined area, and I realized with glory rising up inside me
that I was about to explode without touching myself, my passion riven from
me solely by the power of Hunter's cock inside of me, his hearty, brawny
thrusts into me, so that he forced my body to pleasure, and his hefty arms
stroked my sides and his moans wavered and trembled on the edge of the
precipice, he was close, he was so close to his climax, I would soon have
Hunter's jizz pouring into me, flooding me once more, returning me to my
former state before my servitude, I would be free once more, free, free!
     And my cock throbbed, jerked, my climax struck and I let out a long,
slow yowl like a raunchy tomcat in the night, ow-ow-wow-wow! and with that
yodeling cry of agonizing ecstasy, I burst my bonds and poured my seed onto
the trunk, a heavy gushing rush of sperm that flowed rather than spurted,
and the orgasm that accompanied it was the same, a long, slow, wonderful
ride of joy, carried along on the waves of ejaculation, stately as a
clipper ship, regal as a king, dignified as a dowager, my climax washed
over me and washed me away and cast back only the empty shell of what I had
once been, ready to be refilled again.
     But in that lethargic warm lassitude, I realized that it was still a
rutting, stamping, snorting beast that rode me, Hunter had not yet reached
his peak, and I wearily but dutifully worked my sphincter, pulling at him,
milking at him, and he groaned, and then again, and then yet again, this
time in a higher pitch, "O-oh! O-oh! O-oh, oh, oh, ohh!" and with a
rumbling like an earthquake that welled up from his chest, he muttered out
his pleasure as his cock fired upon me with all the force of the cannonade
that had assaulted my senses a short time before!
     I don't know how long it had been since Hunter had last released his
seed, but it felt like he had been saving it for all the many months we had
been apart, it was the heaviest of loads that gushed into me, burst into
me, splattered me inside and then poured more into the wash of semen that
was within me, now there was more than my intestines could handle and his
jism poured out of my ass and upon his balls and down my legs, a hot fiery
trail of jizz that burned my thighs and soiled my knees, and still it
poured into me and out of me and across me and still Hunter moaned and
jerked and spasmed atop me, caught up in a climax that seemed to last him a
long time. As with earthquakes, he then went into aftershocks, which racked
his body with quick spastic quivers and each such quiver evoked a moan from
him, until I wondered if he would ever be done and could join me in the
pleasant evocation of the post-ejaculation intimacy.
     The quivers subsided reluctantly after a time, and he lifted me up
with hands that were gentle once more and turned me around, guided me to
the bed and he lowered me upon it, still holding me close and this kindness
was utterly sweet, that he would think of my comfort while he held me
afterwards. His slimy, drained cock nestled into my groin and stained me
with his salty effluvium, and his hands caressed me into pleasure, it was
like he was mapping me, defining me, drawing me into his own world the way
a surveyor adds new land to the old by measurement and explanation of the
boundaries.
     "Damn, it's good to have you back again, kid." Hunter said huskily to
me. "I've been looking for you for weeks."
     "Outside of your Army duties?" I asked him teasingly. "Captain Joshua
Whelan?"
     Hunter laughed. "Got my name at last, did you?"
     "I sure did." I said victoriously. "I'm deciding if I should call you
Josh now?"
     "Hunter works fine." He said. "I wouldn't use that other name too much
if I were you."
     "Okay." I said. If Hunter wanted to forget his identity with me, well,
I can't think of anyone more entitled to my indulgence in that. "Hunter it
is. Now what?"
     "Now you go outside and saddle up your horse with your stuff and get
back to Lonely Rock." Hunter said.
     "My horse is here?" I asked him.
     "I used him for my pack when I came here." he said. "And the horse-boy
won't give you any trouble for cutting him out of the herd."
     "Okay." I said. "But what about you? Have to stay with the Army, I
suppose." I said.
     "Not for much longer." he said. "I've been here two weeks, and that's
about all I can take of the Army."
     "Oh." I knew some people deserted from the Army. But that didn't seem
to be Hunter's style. "Well, I'll meet you back in Lonely Rock, then?"
     "Yep." Hunter said. "Now git, now, while you still can."
     "Okay." I decided not to ask questions. I got on my clothes and went
out to the horse herd. My horse had been running unridden for a while and
was a bit wild, but after I roped him he gentled down once again. I was
fastening my saddle when a man wearing a very fancy uniform came up to me.
     "You that Union prisoner we freed?" he harumphed at me.
     "Yes, sir." I said. "And I'm very grateful."
     "Good." he said. "Then you can tell me about that so-called captain
whose a friend of yours, I've heard."
     "He's my friend." I said. "But he keeps his own secrets. We do that
here in the West." I said rather primly, for this man was clearly out of
his element here, an Eastern dandy sent out here to command men, the sort
who could feed them into that meat grinder of cannonfire like had happened
today.
     "Well, if you see him, let me know. There'll be a reward for his
capture."
     "Reward? Why?" I was shocked. "He's a wanted man?"
     "Wanted for impersonating a Union officer." he told me. "Captain
Joshua Whelan is still with the Army of the Potomac. And I played cards
with that man!" he snorted.
     "I see." I said. "Well, sir, I would help you," that was a lie, "but I
really don't know much more than that I call him Hunter and he's my
friend. I don't know where he lives or anything."
     "Bandits." the colonel blustered. "Thieves and scoundrels, the entire
province is full of you." And he stamped off.
     Hunter wasn't a Union officer after all? He had impersonated one! But
why?
     To save me.
     With that thought warming my stomach, I rode back towards Lonely Rock.
                             THE END
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