The Sutler Wagon Ch. 2

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Georgia girl finds her love in a POW camp.
7.7k words
4.67
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/18/2001
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Early morning brought an unusual chill to the Georgia summer and the two women unconsciously sought each other’s body heat and huddled close under the thin quilt to stay warm. The older woman’s bun had come uncoiled in the movements of her slumber, and the long, soft, bright red strands splayed out like flame licking at the pillow. She cradled the younger woman’s face to her bare, full breasts in a gentle embrace and nuzzled into her darker, auburn curls as some fleeting dream sped through her sleeping mind.

As the first rays of daylight peeked into the bedroom through the dust coated window, the older woman woke slowly. She felt the warm, soft skin against her body and smiled a smile of fond remembrance of the night before.. As Marion continued to slumber, Janet Dunbar held the auburn haired girl and thought of tomorrow. “She’s so naive and innocent. Now that I’ve lied to her about my name, led her to believe she had to get away just so I could get her to help me, and very nearly raped her, will she believe me when I tell her the truth? I had to mislead her; she would never have come with me if she knew what I have to do. I’ve got to have her help or else...” Tears filled her eyes as her heart ached, knowing he would soon be out of reach, and only this young girl could help her get him back.

The two had met in a barn where Janet had taken the Union soldier she found guarding the road on which she had been walking. Hoping to learn something of the Union positions and marching orders, Janet had used her assumed identity of Angelique Bouvier, and her assumed profession of camp following sutler/whore to lure the soldier into an empty stall. Her intention had been to service him and then casually, but skillfully, find out a safe route to Chattanooga, and extract such information as he knew about the Union holding camp for prisoners of war located there. Janet had collected some of the soldiers good Union gold, and was well into the execution of her plan, when Marion appeared, and thinking Janet was being attacked, killed the soldier with an ax.

Janet had rolled the soldier from on top of her and stood to chastise the girl. As she looked at the slender girl dressed only in a filthy nightdress, and then into her deep green eyes, Janet saw terror, grief, and innocence ravaged by too much horror in too short a time. She had instantly felt only compassion, and resolved to help Marion in the hope that the girl could assist in her mission. She maintained her charade, and questioned the girl for details about where she was going, and how she was going to get there. Marion had a horse, and was going to Chattanooga also, so Janet had convinced her they had to leave to avoid prosecution for murder of the soldier.

Janet knew the fat, smelly Yankee would not be missed for days; the Union army was swarming for the advance on Atlanta, and he would just be reported absent until after the battle. Janet had taken Marion to one of the few houses that had escaped the Union rape of the Georgia countryside, and was fortunate to have found food and clothing for the girl. She had found that Marion was nearly ignorant in matters of sex, and since her plan needed a second whore, she started teaching her as they lay in bed the night before. She had gotten carried away with the emotion of her plight, the fractured innocence of the girl, and with her own long unsatisfied desire, and had made love to Marion. Marion surprised her by wanting to reciprocate, and Janet had found a long needed release in the young girl’s soft lips and fingertips.

Janet slipped her hand to the young girl’s hip and caressed idly as she planned the day. First, the rest of the way to Chattanooga, then to her home to plan and get ready. She would have to find a way to tell Marion the truth as they rode. It would be hard, but...

“Ummm...is it daylight? Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, that feels good.”

Janet looked at the young face cradled to her breasts, and watched as the green eyes focused on her. She smiled, and the soft pink lips smiled back. Marion stirred, and Janet felt the girl’s soft thighs move against her as she stretched to remove the stiffness of sleep. An unintentional movement thrust the girl’s silky, auburn mound into Janet’s own thigh, and she tightened her embrace and pulled Marion to her. She kissed Marion lightly through the auburn curls that lay on her forehead, and whispered, “it’s time we got started.”

“But your so soft and warm, and after last night, I just want to stay here. Please?” Soft fingertips found Janet’s nipple and began light touches.

“Damn, you learn fast, and enjoy your lessons too much, I think. There’ll be time for that after we get to Chattanooga. Besides, the first real cock you get in you will change your mind about me.”

“I don’t know. I won’t ever forget last night. “ She slipped her arm around Janet, and hugged her close.

As they drove North, they talked of woman’s things, and enjoyed each other’s company until, in the distance, they could see the low, tree covered mountains around Chattanooga. Marion rode beside Janet with her arm around Janet’s waist; Marion was holding on, but the embrace was more sensual than done for safety, and she kept leaning to press her breasts into Janet’s arm. “She has just got to find her a man, and soon”, thought Janet.

“Angie, what did you mean when you said it was good you got the money from that soldier first? Why did he give you money?”

Janet giggled, “I see it’s school time again. We have to be careful not to get as mmm...involved in the lesson as last night. Well, honey, some men don’t have wives, or their wives aren’t very...shall we say, loving, so they visit special women for sex. These women get paid for making the man cum. The longer it has been for the man, and the better the woman is, the more she gets paid. These women are called whores, and make their living this way.”

“Is that what you are...a whore?”

“I wasn’t always, but right now, yes.”

“You could come live with me at my aunt’s, and then you wouldn’t have to do it anymore.”

“Marion, your aunt would as soon welcome the devil himself into her parlor as me. You see, most women feel threatened by whores, because men seem to like them. Men like whores because whores make them feel special, and tell the man all the nice things they are feeling as they fuck. Most women won’t or can’t do that, and they’re afraid their man will run off with one and leave them. Wives and mothers have been trying to get rid of whores since time began, and your aunt’s probably no different. Besides, two unrelated women living in the same house would raise eyebrows all over town.”

“Don’t women ever just live together, like men and women do...I mean, like man and wife?”

“Well, yes honey, they do. But most people find that as bad as being a whore. The girls I know who live together do so in a boarding house, where it’s not so obvious, not in a house by themselves.”

“I wouldn’t care what people thought, as long as you were with me.”

“Damn, honey, you’re making a big choice based on one night. I think you ought to try a man before you decide women are the only ones for you.”

Marion pressed her lips to Janet’s shoulder. “Not women...just one woman. You.”

“A true case of first love. Well, I like you too, very much, but I also like men, very much. I’m sure you will too.”

“When you were with the soldier, I heard you screaming. Did you...cum?”

“God, no, honey. That sweaty, smelly, fat pig was just poking away for himself. He didn’t care about anything but the fact that my cunt was wrapped around him. I was just doing that to hurry him up. That’s the way it always is for a whore. Most whores don’t like men very much, for just that reason. I guess I’m different than most. A man who’s a good lover is wonderful, they’re just hard to find.”

“Last night, you said when a man cums inside you, you get pregnant. Are you pregnant?”

“No honey. If you had known to look, you would have seen the lambskin I made him put on. It is a little closed tube he puts on his cock before he starts, and it traps the sperm. I always make the men use them, or they don’t fuck me.” Janet laughed, “I’ll bet whoever finds him will wonder where that came from.”

At noon, they stopped by a small stream, and ate the ham and beans brought from the house. As they sat in the grass, Marion said, “Have you ever had a man that was a good lover?”

Janet stared at the sky. “Once...only once. He was kind, gentle, and knew how to talk to me, and knew all the right places to touch. It’s a wonderful feeling, Marion, when a man makes love to you, and I mean makes love to you, not just fuck’s you. It’s different. He cares how you feel, and wants you to have pleasure, too.”

“What happened to him?”

“The war.” Janet paused, and tears filled her eyes. “This damnable, stupid war.” She fell into Marion’s outstretched arms and sobbed into her shoulder.

“We were so happy. Then the war took him away from me. He kissed me good-bye and rode off to save the Confederacy. He’s a captain in the 57th Georgia regiment, and got captured at some battle, three weeks ago.

“Three weeks ago! But you said you were a whore, and you were with him...”

Janet dried her eyes with a handkerchief. “I didn’t lie about that. I said I hadn’t always been a whore. I’ve been one for three weeks, ever since I heard he got captured.”

“But why, he’s alive, isn’t he?”

“Marion, I have to get to him, to rescue him. Whore’s don’t get questioned about loyalty, because they service all sides without bias. Being a whore let me find out information about where the armies were, and where my husband is.”

“Your husband, but...”

“I have been trying to think of when to tell you this, but I guess I’ll just go ahead and do it now. My name isn’t Angelique, it’s Janet Dunbar, and I am married to Captain John Dunbar. I use the french name because men think french women make better whores, and they think anybody with a french name is French. I’m from Chattanooga, and up until three weeks ago, I was just a good Confederate officer’s wife. I raised money for the war, went to knitting circles, and was a perfect example of the faithful wife waiting for her husband’s next letter. Then his commander wrote me that John had been captured, and I went frantic. The Union prisons are little better than cattle pens, and men die every day from disease and untreated wounds. I can’t let him go that way. I love him too much to let him go through that. I made up my mind to find him, and help him escape. I went to a whorehouse, and paid one of the girls to teach me, and I also learned to talk the way she talked so I would sound like a whore. I went to where the Union army was camped and started talking to the soldiers. Of course, they wanted to fuck...God, I hate that word... they wanted to fuck me before they would talk. So I charged them as much as they would pay, and closed my eyes while they did it. I yelled and screamed a lot, and they thought they were doing me a favor, or at least that’s what they told their friends.”

“I found out my husband is in Chattanooga in a holding camp. At the end of the month, he will be transferred to Illinois or Iowa, or one of the other prisons. I have to get to him before then. I have to get him home and hide him. The war’s almost over, from what I hear, and within a year we will be able to get back to a normal life, but he won’t live that long in prison.”

“I have a plan, but I need another woman to help. Another whore wouldn’t be any good. She’d tell anyone who paid her more money than I, and I couldn’t blame her for doing it. Believe me, they go through a lot for not much money. The things some men want to do, it would make you ill. Anyway, I started looking for a woman in my situation, or at least one who would be willing to help. I’d about given up hope when you came along. Marion, I need you to help me. I need you to be a whore for one day so I can get my husband back. I can pay you; I have money. My husband owns a textile mill. I will take you anywhere you want to go, or give you anything you want, but please help me. You helped me once because you thought I was in trouble. After what I’ve done to you, can you help me again?”

“Angie, oops, Janet, I would help you do anything, but I’m not sure I know how. What would I have to do?”

“The army lets sutlers, that’s people who trade with the prisoners, into the camp every day. I’ve already been there, and saw my husband. We had to act like we didn’t know each other, but I got a message to him about my plan, and found out there are only two guards at night. We’ll go to trade, get to know the guards, and then come back at night. While we entertain the guards, so to speak, my husband will sneak into our wagon. It has a skirt with my sutler name on it to cover the wheels to the ground, and I had a false bottom put in, so he just has to go underneath the skirt, open the door and climb in. After the guards are finished, we pull up the skirt, get back in the wagon, and drive to my house. That’s my plan.”

“That means I will have to fuck one of the guards?”

“Probably. He might just want you to use your hand, but probably. I’ll show you some tricks, and give you some lambskins; just make sure you make him use one. If you put it on him, he probably won’t object. You just let him get started; he’ll know what to do. Moan a lot and push up against him once in a while. Then, when he cums, wiggle and scream. They like that a lot, and the poor dears don’t know it’s not real. Oh, and you need to make it last about fifteen minutes to give my husband time to get in the wagon.”

“What if he wants to do something else; you said they want to do other things?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to use your head, and I won’t be able to help you. Whatever you do, you can’t hurt him, because then the army will come looking for us, too.”

“Does your husband know what you are going to do with the guards?”

“No, and I’m not going to tell him. This is the only way I could think of to get inside after dark, and he would just say no. If he finds out, I’ll try to explain, but the important thing is to get him out as soon as I can.”

“Janet, if we’re going to do this, we’d better get to your house and get ready. If I think about it too long, I might not be able to do it.”

As Janet drove the wagon through the streets of Chattanooga, Marion stared at the desolation. Most of the stores were closed, “BY ORDER OF GENERAL GLASS, 2D ILLINOIS REGIMENT, US ARMY”, because of actions by Confederate sympathizers. People had a fearful look deep in their eyes, and avoided the men in blue uniforms patrolling the streets. The only men she saw were old; women and boys drove the carriages and wagons they saw. Many buildings bore the scars of bullets, and here and there, a charred shell reminded her of fire, smoke, and a lost lifetime of memories. Marion saw the camp in the distance. It was nothing more than the small cattle pen of what had been a slaughter house. Men stood in line at the only water container, and others stood, sat, or laid as their condition permitted. There was very little open space in the enclosure, and as the breeze changed directions, Marion had to repress the urge to gag from the stench of human waste. Janet stopped at the prison gate, and the guard challenged them.

After the guard had searched the wagon, he let them pass through. They got down, and let down the skirt. It perfectly covered all the wagon from the bed to the ground, and on both sides was printed in large, bold letters, “EUNICE HARTLIDGE, SUTLER”. They traded their meager supply of coffee and sugar for small wood carvings and other trinkets made by the prisoners. Marion was shocked by the conditions that Janet had described but which she had refused to believe. Men lay on the ground with flies buzzing around open wounds. Others wore bandages stained the red-black of old blood. Most looked hungry, and few had clothing heavy enough for when they were sent north. Some had no shirts, and she almost gasped at the ribs showing through the sunburned skin. These men would probably not even survive in the South without medical treatment and good food, and the Union prisons in the North were so overcrowded they had neither.

Marion saw Janet hand a small packet of coffee to a tall, dirty man in a grey coat, and hoped the guard did not notice the slip of paper hidden under the packet. Soon, all their supplies were gone; they folded up the skirt, and left. On the way through the gate, Janet stopped the wagon. Marion noticed that at some time, Janet had unbuttoned her blouse so that as she leaned over to talk to the guard, her breasts were exposed to his leering eyes. As the sergeant approached, she said, “We have nothing left to trade, and it’s a shame you didn’t get anything. There must be something we can give you, isn’t there." Marion saw her smile at the sergeant, and blink her pretty eyes at him. The guard rested his hand on Janet’s knee, and started to inch up her thigh. Janet slapped his hand and laughed. “I can’t have you doing that in public. People will talk, and I have my reputation to think of. I couldn’t possibly do anything like that..., giggle, unless it was..., giggle, after dark... giggle, and unless you gave me something in return.”

‘What would you want in return?”

“Well, five dollars in gold would be enough to get me to come back tonight”

“What about your friend? My corporal over there would like some company too.”

“Oh, no. She’s not a working girl. She’s never even...well, you know, she hasn’t got enough experience.”

The guard’s eyes lit up, and he yelled, “corporal.” “Red here, will come back tonight for five dollars. Her friend has no “experience”, but does experience matter to you?”

The corporal looked Marion up and down, and said, “No sarge, I’d be willing to teach her, for free.”

Just as they had rehearsed, in a pleading voice Marion said, “Momma, with Daddy gone, we need the money. I can do it, really I can. If you don’t let me come with you, I’ll come out tomorrow by myself.”

“Honey, I just don’t want you to get hurt. Let Momma take care of this-”

“No, I’m coming with you, and that’s that.”

Janet turned to the guard. “I’ll bring her, but I don’t want no rough stuff with her, and I’ll need ten more dollars, gold, if she comes along.”

“Ten dollars?”

“Yes, ten dollars. She’s worth more ‘cause it’s her first time. Do we come back or not?”

The sergeant and corporal held a quiet conversation, and then the sergeant returned to the wagon. “Come back after dark. We’ll have the money, but you better be worth it.”

At eleven o’clock that night, Janet and Marion were at the prison gate again. The sergeant smiled at them, and said, “Come on in, ladies.”

“We need to park our wagon inside. People will steal anything nowadays, and we can’t afford to lose anything.” The sergeant opened the gate, and Janet drove through. While Janet went to talk with the sergeant about the money, Marion let the wagon skirt down, and then joined her.

“Honey, go with the sergeant and I’ll go with the corporal. If he does anything to hurt you, scream for me.”

Marion followed the sergeant into the small guard house. As soon as the door was closed, he was fondling her breasts and hips with one hand, and loosening his belt with the other.

“It’s been a while, girlie, so I probably won’t last long. Bend over the table.”

Janet’s husband needed at least fifteen minutes, and this was going too fast.

“I’ve never done this before, and Momma says if you go too fast, it’ll hurt me. I need to get ready first, to get myself wet. Just stand there for a while.”

Marion, lifted her skirts, and revealed that she had nothing on underneath them. She sat on the table, and her hand began stroking her curly haired mound. Her fingertips separated the curls to reveal her lips, and fingertips began stroking their length. Marion feigned a moan, and watched for the sergeants reaction. His eyes bugged as he watched this young girl pleasuring herself in front of him, and the bulge in his uniform told Marion she was having an impact on him.

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