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Fucking Through Georgia Pt. 05

This is a long and complicated story set in America as it was plunging towards civil war in the mid eighteen hundreds. It is about one woman's efforts at preventing that war by using the only facility at her disposal, her body. Yes, Amanda Williams tries to fuck her way to avoiding the war.

A southerner by birth, but a yankee by beliefs and a European by sexual preferences Amanda forms sexual liasons with a Confederate politician and a Union general. She has torrid sex with both of them and some of their male and female compatriots as at the same time she tries to avoid drifting back into an incestuous relationship with her brother.

As the story covers a five year period recounting how Amanda's life changed and describing her efforts at changing history, it is best read in chronological order. However, it has been written in a style that makes each episode a standalone romp through American history.

*****

Fucking Through Georgia Pt 5

Wanton and extreme sex with Strand


Oliver Strand rubbed his podgy hands with anticipation as Amanda's carriage concluded the gentle, twenty-five minute ride from her lodgings and came to a stop outside his house. She had taken his suggestion as to her dress, and looked every bit as beautiful and provocative as he had suggested and hoped.

He had slightly known and had been introduced to Amanda before she left the South for college and then England, but they had never really had much to do with each other, certainly not in the way that he liked when he met full breasted, curvy figured young women.

Over the years, he had learned about Amanda's life and was pleased when he heard about her marriage break up and her impending return to the family plantation. Since meeting her properly at the Cotton Christmas Ball, he had become very single minded about his desire for getting her into his bed and that had become a key objective in his active sex life.

However, he had bigger plans for her as well. He was aware of her connections in the North from her time at college and living there with her husband. He was also aware that she knew many prominent Yankees, including General Fairfax Lennon. His contacts had informed him that she had dined recently with the head of military intelligence several times in New York and also here in Washington just last week.

Fairfax might be head of military intelligence, but Strand had his own very effective network as well. He would have absolutely no compunction whatsoever about adding Amanda to that network and persuading her to spy on her Yankee 'friends.' At the back of his mind was the idea that he could use the assistance he was offering her as a lever to persuade her to feed him information about the North and its plans.

As the carriage stopped in the small shingled courtyard of his office, and occasional living quarters in Foggy Bottom, Strand pushed past the driver and opened the door to the carriage.

"That will be fine, Jenkins," he said, holding his hand out to Amanda as she leaned forward to alight from the closed carriage. "Just put the stairs there for Missus Williams please, I'll handle the rest."

She was wearing a highly fashionable two-colour outfit. It had a tight, white, low cut bodice with black lace around the neck and small, black buttons running up from her waist to the low cut neckline. The black with white piping and lace trimmed skirt was fully hooped and beautifully layered. The fullness of the skirt was in stark, but alluring contrast to the slim, tautness of the bodice.

"Welcome back, Amanda," he said, taking her hand as she stepped down. Her partially covered breasts almost touched him as he bent his arm to aid her progress down the steps, which the footman Jenkins had put in place.

She smiled, "Thank you. It is very pleasant to be back Mister Strand."

"Now, now please, how many times must I remind you? I insist on Oliver and Amanda."

"Why, certainly sir," she smiled. "It just slips my mind to be so intimate after knowing a gentleman for such a short time," she went on looking up at him and right into his eyes from her downcast gaze. She was aware that it was an overtly flirtatious look and wished she had not done it, but it was natural and as such was part of her character.

Smirking in an oily way Strand oozed back. "Ma'am, short the time may be, but surely it has been er, how should we phrase it, close and meaningful perhaps? Yes I think that sums up our relationship, don't you Amanda?"

She didn't reply. Instead, she inclined her head to one side, slightly fluttered her eyelids and covered her face with her fan, providing a completely non-committal persona.

Slipping his arm through hers to walk her into the house, he said, "Well then, my dear, this evening presents the ideal opportunity for us both to do something about that. To make it even more close and meaningful, doesn't it?"

Smiling, knowing full well his meaning, Amanda decided to play a coy game. As he stood aside to let her through the doorway, she replied.

"Pray sir... sorry, Oliver! Whatever can you mean?"

Strand had always been a man who took risks, one who chanced his arm, pushed things and sometimes went for broke. He relied on his intuition and instinct, far more than most men. Now he sensed that this was a time to go with his gut feel. As they walked into the light oak, panelled entrance hall, he pulled on Amanda's elbow, stopping and turning her so that they faced each other.

Putting his arms round her before she could stop him, he pulled her to him and attempted to kiss her, muttering, "This madam, I meant this."

Amanda's immediate reaction was to push him away, but instinct stopped her even as she began to protest. She needed his help and his connections and Lennon's request rang in her ears as her quick mind whirled into action. Leaning back so that his mouth could not reach hers she said.

"But sir, this is so sudden, so extreme."

Strand went on the offensive. His inner self took over, the self that had raped many black slaves and several white trash women. The self that had tortured a variety of harlots and whores and the self that had seen him force himself on so many women over the years.

"Don't talk arrant rubbish," he growled as manfully he tried pulling Amanda's body against him, an action that the large hoops made very diffcult. "You have known as well as I that this was going to happen," he muttered pressing his lips firmly against hers as the front of her skirt was pushed backeards causing the back of it to lift upwards producing, a very unladylike image.

It was true, of course. After all, she had chosen her outfit expressly for being undressed and having sex with Strand. She had worn her sheerest, black stockings, her sexiest, silk pantalettes and she had daringly dispensed with both her chemise and camisole, and was wearing her corset next to her skin.

The stunningly low cut, French gown had no extra material, as was the American fashion, to cover her breasts. Without the chemmy and camisole, they were tantalisingly on display, much more so than was normal in American society.

She had come to this meeting showing more of the flesh of her bosom than Strand would probably have ever seen on a 'dressed' woman, other than in a brothel, perhaps. Yes, she had arrived at his house with most of her splendid tits on show. Naturally, to a man like Strand, that meant just one thing, she was ready and willing to be fucked! And the truth of the matter, Amanda had to admit to herself, somewhat reluctantly and with a high degree of guilt, was that probably she was both ready and willing for that.

His arms were around his prey's slim back, his fingers finding the laces of her firm corset. Pulling Amanda against his broad chest and crushing her breasts, she gasped with surprise and, she was amazed to realise, mounting excitement.

"You know you want me, Amanda," he said, roughly pushing his tongue against her closed lips. She tried to keep them closed, but her sense of pragmatism, that touch of excitement she was feeling and the persistence of Strand's tongue, slowly forced them apart.

To Oliver Strand, a woman opening her mouth and allowing his tongue to slide inside, was a clear indicator that later she would opening her legs for him to lie between. Both gestures said to him, you can fuck me!

His kiss was deep and passionate. He kissed her on both lips and then just the top one. He shoved his tongue forcibly deep into her mouth and then sucked on her bottom lip. She shivered as he plastered kisses all over her chin and cheeks, and then down her neck and throat and onto her shoulders.

Strand took her shudder to be excitement and responded by kissing and sucking along her collar bone. His hand pushed against the thick silk of her hooped skirt, trying but failing to reach and feel the delights that lay beneath. The dress was too well made and voluminous for that.

Amanda had such a complex mix of emotions rushing through her mind, and body. Fear, surprise, guilt, rage and dislike all welled up in her. Most disappointingly of all, however, was that she felt excitement. The last time she had experienced rough sex was with an enormously well endowed, mixed race boxer in London. It had left her breathless.

Despite herself, her struggles were half hearted as she felt a familiar tingle between her loins and the heat building up in her breasts. It was clear to Amanda that Strand was becoming more excited by the second, but, amazingly and very worryingly to her, so was she!

"Come on, you feisty vixen, you know this is what you want," he growled into her ear.

His hand at last found what it had wanted since the moment he had seen the 'grown up' Missus Williams at the ball last Christmas. He grabbed her breast and squeezed it, not caring whether he caused pain.

"Ouch," she grunted, flinching from the contact. "That hurt."

"Sorry," Strand grunted, but made no effort to slow his actions.

Forcing his fingers as far inside the neckline of her dress that its tightness would allow, he revelled in the feelings of the mass of soft, pliant flesh on his fingers. Amanda's breast felt every bit as good as it looked. Without consideration for her discomfort, he aggressively and clumsily tried to yank the mounds out from the restrictions of the dress. However, that and her corset were too tight to allow all of them to escape the restriction of the material. He managed to expose her nipple on one breast but the other got caught inside the neckline.

His eyes registering his lust he grunted.

"Oh God, Amanda, your breasts are wonderful."

Bending his face towards the soft flesh. His eyes flashed with smug satisfaction at the hardness of her nipple. "You want this as much as I do, you sexy aroused bitch," he muttered, as his mouth closed over her extremely swollen bud.

Amanda's head was in a whirl. She knew she had to go through with this, and part of her was confessing that she did indeed want to. But everything was happening too quickly.

"Oliver please," she pleaded, trying to push him off.

"No!" he insisted, his voice croasking with desire. "You knew the price Amanda. You agreed that and you know you want this! You want me!"

"But not now, not here," she cried, desperate for a way out. Being fucked by a man she despised was one thing, being fucked by him on a carpet in an entrance hall where, for all she knew a servant or, worse, one of Strand's business colleagues could come by, was something totally different. It would be humiliating.

Her cries brought Strand to his senses. Although he kept only a skeleton staff at this location, drawing them from and returning them to his main Washington residence as needed, he knew that it would be unfortunate if any of them saw what was happening. Not for the embarrassment it would cause, for Strand had no such morals. However, finding good staff was difficult and the maid or footman that would be so unlucky as to witness the scene would be immediately fired and shipped out of the capital.

"Yes madam, I am sorry," he gasped, backing away from Amanda in a calculated attempt to reassure her. "Your beauty and your perfect body, inflamed my ardour, and I can but apologise for my sudden actions. Forgive me, please!"

"Thank you Mister Strand," Amanda replied, panting from the effort of pushing her attacker away. Despite herself, she felt waves of arousal flood through her at the thought of being taken so roughly. God, servants or no servants, she had almost allowed him to do what he wished, she realised as they moved apart. Knowing that she could hardly blame that on sexual frustration, for her few days with Fairfax had satisfied that, she wondered at just what was happening to her!

She went to adjust her clothes. The sight of his gaze on her bountiful breasts hanging out from the neckline of her dress only served to arouse her more.

Strand grabbed her hand. "No, madam, pray leave them for me to feast my eyes on as we dine."

My God, Amanda thought. The animal wants us to have dinner with me sitting there with my tits out. Even that outrageous thought sent another waft of arousal through her body, though such an idea was preposterous. Was it not?

"But sir, I beseech you! I cannot. Not with your servants around," she pleaded rather half-heartedly!

Strand slyly smiled and licked his fat lips. "Don't worry your pretty head about my servants, Amanda, I will send them away. Come with me."

His sweaty palm grabbed her hand, pulling her with him further into the house, her bare, unfettered breast jiggling provocatively. With each step, Strand's glances over his shoulders devoured her naked flesh. Amanda had to almost run, such was her host's urgency as he dragged her by the hand up a narrow staircase and along a short, pine panelled corridor to the rear of the house.

The door he eventually opened led into a modest sized dressing room, with a number of closets, a table to lay dresses out on, and three chairs adjacent to another door to the right.

"Now my dear," he slurred, unable to take his eyes from her wonderful breasts. For a moment, Amanda thought he was going to grab them again. She realised with horror that part of her actually wanted him to.

"You stay here and ready yourself for dinner," he growled.

"Pray, Oliver," she responded hoarsely, attempting to control her breathing as she used her black fan to cover her nakedness. "I don't understand! Whatever do you mean?"

"We will eat dinner alone, Amanda! We will serve ourselves, there will be no servants! In a few moments, they will all be leaving for the evening." His hand pushed away the fan Amanda was using to hide her embarrassment, which increased as leering at her he added "And for the entire night."

"So you see, madam," he mumbled, saliva almost dripping from his fat lips as he leered at her. "Modesty is not necessary, no one will be here, just you and me."

"Oh," Amanda muttered, feeling another surge of both fear and excitement at his proposal. The knowledge that this man was desperate for her sent a shiver of excitement through her, but the fact that she would be naked as he firstly mawled and then had sex with her made her shiver with fear. She was only too aware that her excitement was as illogical as it was outlandish, but recently she had no real understanding of her emotions and why she felt the way she did.

Strand instantly closed the gap between them, unable to resist the wanton sight she presented to him. Roughly pulling her to him, her naked breasts squashed into his chest as his hungry mouth found her lips again.

Such was her arousal, Amanda found herself opening her mouth, allowing his tongue to delve inside and duel with her own. The feeling of her hard nipples brushing against his silk waistcoat was both exciting and stimulating to her.

"What it means, my dear," Strand breathed between kisses, is that I want you undressed as we eat dinner. Leave just enough on to titillate me! Understand?" Staring intently at her he nodded, as if that reinforced that this was an instruction, not a request. "Forgive me for a moment, for I must take care of the servants. After all, we do not want to be disturbed, do we?"

The sneering smile he gave her as he turned on his heel and left the room made Amanda feel light-headed, very confused and slightly revolted, no very revolted, but now at herself as much as at him. Previously, this was a fate to be endured. Now, the thought of having sex with this rough monster had made her wet.

Alone in the dressing room, she wondered how far to go with her clothes. She had heard of parties and orgies in England where the participants wore very little as they drank and ate. She had heard about brothels where nude dining was the vogue and she knew that her husband had attended such 'sexual soirees.' In fact he had asked her to attend one with him, but she had refused.

There was no doubt Strand really meant what he had said! His eyes and tone had confirmed that and the thought sent another waft of revulsion and arousal through her body. She realised she wanted this almost as much as he did and she started to undress. The only redeeming factor was that she wouldn't have to endure a man undressing her; it really was almost a torture.

'Well at least,' she conjectured pragmatically, 'It will prevent him pawing my finest French gown.'

*

Fairfax was pleased with the way things were going. Whilst it had been at the back of his mind to ask for Amanda's help he had not expected her to, as it were, 'hand it to him on a plate.' He was slightly perturbed at just how readily she had agreed with his oblique suggestion of using her body to gain information and that made him wonder whether she had already decided to do that to ease the sale of Selby. His trained intelligence mind told him that she probably had, but that did not bother him one iota; to him sex was merely a commodity. Although, he had strong feelings for Amanda, he was acutely aware that he did not love her. He had no desire to forsake all others and spend the rest of his life with her for he knew very well indeed that he was not capable of love. In fact he had no idea what it meant!

Having Amanda announce that she would not be able to meet him that evening pleased him. He hoped it would mean that she would have sex with Strand and glean some useful information; it also meant that he could travel to New York on the overnight train. This was a new initiative by the railroad and came about from the encouragement of the government in Washington and the merchants and financiers of New York.

Until very recently the trains stopped overnight and passengers disembarked and slept in guest houses that had been built near stations. An enterprising entrepreneur from Germany had developed and launched a 'sleeping car' that was made up of small, some said cell-like, rooms with beds. That had been adopted by George Pullman and who had enlarged the room and made them more luxurious. One train containing two of these ' pullman' cars left Washington and another New York at nine o'clock three evenings each week. This meant that the passengers could arrive in central New York city or the capital early the next morning, perform a day's work and return home over the next night.

Prior to his assignation with Amanda being cancelled, Fairfax had planned to travel the next day and had scheduled late afternoon and evening meetings, as usual hoping against hope that there would be no significant delays. By travelling overnight he was able to arrange more meetings and bring some of the others forward from the evening, thus giving him more time with his long-term New York mistress.

*

Strand's eyes popped out like organ stops when Amanda walked into his private quarters. The tongue that had been devouring her mouth ran across his fat lips as his gaze took in every inch of the voluptuous beauty. The cock that longed for her began to unfurl in his breaches and reach its full potential.
"I hope you don't mind Oliver," she murmured seductively, posing for a moment so that his eyes could drink in all of her beauty. "But I am wearing stockings as well. I trust my attire pleases you?"

As she walked in Strand had exclaimed to himself. 'Oh my lord, my fucking God, she looks incredible.'

"Please me?" he stuttered. "Madam, you are nothing short of magnificent!"

Amanda smiled coquettishly. Somehow, pleasing him and inflaming his lust only served to increase her own arousal. Her recollection of Captain Richard Jarvis's reaction to her stockings added to the sensation.

Wearing just her corset and her English bloomers, she had let her hair down so that its chestnut tressess were cascading over her bare shoulders. The small gap between the bottom of her pale grey corset and her drawers left part of her stomach exposed, and by removing her shoes, Strand could see the black silk of her stockings under her bloomers that ended well above her slim ankles.

"Magnificent," Strand breathed, his gaze roaming round her body before returning to her crowning glories, the feature that so strongly attracted his attention. Bare and powdered, her unfettered breasts looked magnificent. Strand could not drag his gaze away from their shape and majesty. His hungry eyes focused on the fiercely hardened, nipples and full, round areola that London and Paris, but not American fashion dictated, were heavily rouged.

His face looked like he was close to hyperventilating at the erotic sight posing for him. He pulled at his jacket, dropping it to the floor, quickly followed by his waistcoat and cravat. With his white, cotton shirt open at the throat, Amanda could see the black, grey-flecked hair at the top of his chest.

With a lecherous smile that sent shivers to her very core, Strand moved behind one of the high backed dining chairs placed each end of the small table located in the bow window of his room.

Pulling the chair out he said. "Madam, pray be seated, dinner will shortly be served."

His hungry eyes devoured every part of Amanda's body as she sashayed across the room, looking far more confident than she felt. Her corset kept her back straight so her breasts were pushed out and her tummy was held in. Determined to put on a show, but not fully understanding why, she shuffled a little making her breasts jiggle deliciously as she took her place.

Strand adjusted the chair as she sat down, staring intently at her pale, smooth skin and her deep, copper coloured hair that was tumbling down onto her breasts. The way the odd ringlet fell onto the swell of her bosom only made the sight more appealing. Seeing a woman dressed like this reminded him of the high class whores he bought when in New Orleans. He immediately hardened to a level that was unusual for him in recent times as he thought 'Tonight, she was going to be my whore!'

It was not that Strand just loved fucking women, what he desired even more was controlling them. Fucking women was the means to controlling them, and controlling them meant fucking them. They were intertwined, but the idea of controlling a beautiful woman was the ultimate satisfaction. And this beauty was his to control.

Control her, bend her to his will, and then fuck her! His cock throbbed at the thought!

From the moment that sex became a possibility he had gradually increased the tempo of his advances and the force with which he was making them. The slow control he exerted had been an aphrodisiac to him. One that he had found impossible to resist when she had arrived this evening and he had forced himself upon her.

That same lust for control was the reason he had insisted she was to dine with him in her underwear. That was not only because he could savour her body while they ate, as exciting as that was, it was also another means of exerting his control over her.

The fact that he was gaining control more by a sort of blackmail, by promising to assist the plantation sale, was immaterial to him. No, that was not quite true, in some ways it added even more to his excitement. In addition, coaxing her into spying for him would be yet another element to his control over this filly. To him, using all the tools at his disposal proved just how clever he was.

Amanda stared at her host, wondering what thoughts were going on behind those pinprick eyes. She was a strong, self-contained woman who, throughout her adult life had been attracted to strong men.. Men with alert minds and dynamic demeanours. Powerful men, influential, important and successful men. Men who ran business empires, government departments, army units, huge estates in England and now the State of Georgia in America.

It was the power they exerted that was the attraction, power over others, the ability to control and shape their own destiny. That was the feeling she was experiencing right now. This man had that power, and the submissive streak he had forced onto her by insisting she strip to her underwear for dinner reinforced his power. What Amanda could not understand was how she could be so strong and forceful in some situations, yet have a desire, almost a need to be submissive in others

He was fully in control of the situation, and in control of her. They both knew that, and the knowledge sent little flutters of excitement through her body. She was not able to think through the feelings she was experiencing as analytically as she wished, or as deeply as they required. Sitting opposite the man who wanted her with such animal like intensity, she felt a craving to be abused and demeaned. 'What a contradiction I am' she thought to herself feeling concerned, but not unduly worried about that?

She hated admitting it even to herself, but this wasn't the first time she'd felt that way. It was, however, the first real opportunity that had been presented to her to live out that craving, to live her fantasy!

Unknowingly to Strand, the very things he was forcing on her played precisely to the needs and desires that had begun to surface in this complicated woman.

That was why she had so easily acquiesced to his order to undress. It was the reason she had bared her breasts for him like a wanton harlot! It was why she was now standing by the dining table, in the flickering candlelight of his bedroom clad in just her coloured corset, her mid-calf length, lacy bloomers and her dark silk stockings. It was why she was looking and, indeed acting like a high-class whore! It was also why she felt like a whore.

More than anything, it was why she would later submit to this man, give herself to this animal, let Strand fuck her like the slut she was! In her mind it was a form of atonement.

"Please Amanda, let me serve you dinner," she heard him say, his voice bringing her out of her reverie.

She licked her tongue across her dry lips forcing the thoughts to the back of her mind. "Well thank you, kind sir," she all but croaked. "But is it not more appropriately my place to serve you?"

Strand smiled condescendingly. He had this woman exactly where he wanted.

"Yes Madam, it is," he told her, in a tone that confirmed his superiority. "But you will serve me later, and that moment cannot arrive quickly enough. But before then, allow me to be your host."

The meal passed quickly, the small talk doing nothing to dissipate the heavy air of sexual tension in the air. Amanda's arousal grew at the thought of submitting herself so wantonly, while Strand's increased at the thought of controlling and fucking this woman. This whore. His whore!

The cold soup, fresh, poached salmon, cold cuts of beef, turkey and pork and then strawberries with cream had been washed down with lashings of red and white wine. They both sipped port as Strand enjoyed a pipe with them acting as if it was simply a dinner a deux. And that for some inexplicable reason added to the excitement rippling through the air.

Then it was time!

"Madam," Strand announced pulling himself to his feet and letting out a loud belch. "I can wait no longer to taste that fabulous body. Come!"

He walked over to the bed in the corner of the room and with hardly a glance at his soon to be conquest, he shed his clothing and laid on the bed. The astute man knew exactly what he was doing. By acting in such a way, he was reinforcing his control and testing Amanda's reaction. He had anticipated having to take her by force, but her meek submission was both a highly pleasant surprise and a massive arousal for him.

"May I serve you some strawberries sir?" the nervous woman asked, seeking to put off the moment until she could control the beating in her heart. She collected the silver bowl of strawberries in her hands, the bottoms of her full breasts just touching the rim of the bowl as she carried it to the bed.

Her eyes stared across at the naked man. Strand was overweight, there was no doubt about that, but then so were most men in the circles in which Amanda moved. She guessed that he had once had a fine body, but like many of his age group that was now a thing of the past. Overeating and excessive drinking, combined with a lack of exercise had taken its toll. Yet, strangely, the thought of being taken by his podgy form, compared to Fairfax's impressive physique, did not diminish her arousal and anticipation.

"Yes," he leered, staring at her breasts and wondering what it would be like to cover them in cream and lick it off. "Pour us some champagne first! The bottle is open."

Leaving the bowl on the side of the bed, Amanda made a show of turning and retracing her steps back to the table acutely aware that Strand's eyes were on her. Past lovers had told her how delicious her bum looked when she wore just her bloomers, or was naked. The way she accentuated the wiggle and sway of her hips for this obnoxious, but oddly interesting bastard of a man, emphasising the undulation of her ripe, full buttocks, increased the wetness gathering between her thighs.

Strand panted as he stared at the glorious sight, unable to resist the need to grab and stroke his now full erection. His active mind envisaged the moment he would pull her pantalets down to her knees with her body bent at the waist and her buttocks on show and available to him. He visualised pulling her across his lap, and spanking her whore's ass until it was red and tingling and she begged him to stop.

All in good time. Like a young colt, she had to be broken in first and tonight would see the first steps in that process.

When she coyly returned and handed him one of the two glasses of champagne, he downed it in one swig.

"Again," he ordered, holding his glass out.

She stared at the way he continued to stroke himself as she followed his lead and swallowed her own drink, before refilling their glasses. Soon, that cock would be inside her punishing and abusing her she mulled.

Swilling down the second glass of champagne, he nodded for her to do the same. The more alcohol she consumed, the more compliant she would be was his very male and not necessarily incorrect way of thinking. Handing her his empty glass so that she could perch it on the side table, he patted the bed beside him. When she obediently took her place, he ran his hand through her hair and down her back.

His mouth found her lips, content that there was no hint of resistance this time. His tongue probed her mouth while his pawing hand cupped her breasts, delighting in their fullness and weight. Finding the rouge on her nipples and areola had surprised him. He had heard of women putting it there that, but so far he had not witnessed it and he found it oddly exciting as he rubbed her nipples.

To establish his control he watched the look in her eyes as he roughly pinched her nipple, making her wince. Amanda realised what he was doing and though she gasped, she gave no other indication of the pain. She was determined not to give in to his perverted pleasures although, by allowing him to do them without protest was, in itself, submission, she recognised thinking 'yet another conflict.' Amanda was aware that was odd logic, but then this was not mathematics, which, in any case, had always been her academic Achilles heel!

Strand smiled lasciviously and squeezed her breast again, pulled and pinched her nipple harder, so that she had to grit her teeth to stop crying out. She really is a feisty bitch, he thought, delighting in her reaction. He would get a lot of pleasure from breaking this one!

Her glass fell from her hand as he pulled her down on the bed, spilling the remaining champagne on her bloomers. Roughly dragging her across his knees, he pulled her face to his again and savaged her lips with his. He would show this bitch who was in control!

As his tongue plunged into her mouth, his squeezing hand slid down from her breasts, along her corset, over her waist and onto her drawers. The involuntary sigh she gave as he found and rubbed her pubic mound made his cock twitch, and he brought more groans from the captive woman by pushing his hand between her legs and stroking right along the lips of her delightful pussy.

Even through the material the heat and wetness was welcomingly evident,!

"Remove your drawers, Amanda, I want to see you. All of you," he growled, making no effort whatsoever to remove them himself. Even at this stage, he wanted the control that obedience brought.

For a moment, Amanda panicked. Was she really going to do this? How the hell had she got herself into this position? What would happen if she refused? Would he take her by force? As her eyes surreptitiously ran across the overweight, ageing, flabby body, the greying bodily hair and the short, but thick, erect cock of the man who was going to fuck her, she suddenly felt revulsion, but knew full well that yes, if need be he probably would take her by force.

Momentarily forgetting her need to sell the plantation, the slavery issue and the impending civil war between the states, she wondered if she could really go through with it?

"Stand up, and turn round." Strand ordered, sensing the hesitation in the mixed up woman. "Do it," he said sharply.

For a few seconds, their wills battled silently. In reality, though, both knew the inevitable outcome. Amanda timidly rose to her feet, the previous excitement being replaced by a feeling of resignation. Her hands shook as she slowly pushed her drawers down revealing the full glory of her slightly oversized, but extremely tempting buttocks, her full bush of deep rust coloured pubic hairs and the bloated lips of her engorged quim.

Strand gasped in delight as his arousal soared to new heights. He resolved there and then, not only to carry out his previous thoughts of spanking those wonderful cheeks sometime soon, but he would go further. The thought of rubbing his cock between those delicious orbs, before taking and fucking the wonderful ass, sent flashes of arousal from his brain to his cock. And the more she resisted, the harder he would fuck her, he vowed.

Amanda stared at Strand's overweight body as she turned back to him. Then she saw the look in his eyes. It was sheer unbridled, animal-like lust that was transmitted to her. From nowhere, she felt her own excitement return. He was about to take her, make her feel like the slut her inner mind told her she was. This podgy bastard was about to devour her body. He needed her, and her submissive mind told her she needed him too.

She needed to be fucked, to be devoured, abused and yes, humiliated.

Strand's eyes burned as they basked in the erotic sight of this woman facing him. Wearing just her black stockings, held up by pink garters and her corset, she looked like the queen of whores. She was about to submit to him, for what he was certain would be, the first of many times he would consume this voluptuous body. With a growl, he grabbed her arm and pushed her down on the bed, his overweight body quickly covering hers.

He grabbed her hair, pulling her face to his as he rubbed himself along her wetness. His lips went to her breasts, lapping at one and then the other, softly biting her nipples and experiencing the taste of the rouge. Then they were back on hers, greedily consuming her as his eager tongue explored inside her mouth.

Amanda couldn't help letting out a soft groan. The obnoxious bastard knew exactly what he was doing!

Yes she was about to be taken. Not entirely against her will, but the main reason she was here was her promise to Fairfax. Certainly the possibility of Strand helping her sell the plantation had started her liaison with him, but that had diminished when she had realised the limitations on the extent of his influence and the strength of the new laws. Naturally, she hoped to gain the highest possible price for Selby, but again the need for that had reduced when in New York she had realised just how much her wealth had increased in the last year or so; it was the need for using it as collateral on the plantation loans that was the drain on her finances. Things had been put into perspective for her at a financial attorney's office in New York when he told her that the house in Piccadilly in London was probably worth at least that of Selby, particularly, as the attorney rather indelicately, but probably realistically had put it. 'Piccadilly is unlikely to be a war zone or burned down!'

She was about to be fucked by another man because the one she loved had without compunction asked her. True it was all wrapped up in the greater good of the country, but deep down Amanda knew she was not spying for the Union, but for the head of its Military Intelligence, General Fairfax Lennon. Well, she would help Fairfax by doing this, but by God, she'd make sure she enjoyed every second she thought to herself as once more the contradictions in her thinking emerged!

"Want my cock?" Strand was whispering even as he lined himself up.

Yes, god, YES! Amanda's mind screamed, but she turned her head to the side, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a reply or the fact of knowing just how much she did want it.

If she thought she would escape that easily, she was wrong. This was Strand's ultimate humiliation for the night. His way of reinforcing the huge surge of control he so desired. This woman would beg him for it!

"Well?" he asked, easing just the very head between her wet lips. "Tell me!" he gasped, his hot breath against her skin. "Do you want my cock?"

One hand jerked her head around so that he could stare into her eyes. Her hips moved so that she could take more of him inside her, but he held back, adjusting his position to keep the head inside her but no more.

His eyes asked the question again, there was no need for him to speak.

"Yes," she gasped, groaning aloud as he slid more of his so desirable hardened flesh between her opened lips. "Yes, Oliver, Yes. Fuck me, please fuck me!"

She hated herself for both asking that and for pleading with him, but she could not stop herself, her resistance had gone, she had no other options than to plead with this odious, yet oddly captivating man to take her. Her mind was being betrayed by her body, as she knew it had so many times before.

Strand felt an astonishing burst of adrenalin rush through him at her apparent surrender. He'd wanted this woman for so long and now, not only had the moment come, but the bitch was begging him for it. The begging was not something new to him. The words Amanda used, though, were. In his circles only whores when instructed and paid would use such a term as 'please fuck me.' In Amanda's circles in London, ladies had begun to use such terms in the privacy of the boudoirs and think such phrases in the seclusion of their minds.

Without further ado, he pushed himself all the way inside her. He moaned at the stirring feeling of her velvet-like insides gripping his cock so wonderfully firmly for a woman of her age; 'her cunt' he thought 'was more like those of the young women who were arranged specially for him at his favoured brothels than of a married woman of her age.' He took her slowly at first, savouring every moment, every sound, every groan, every undulation of her voluptuous body as she abandoned herself to him.
My God, what a fantastic fuck this woman was turning out to be!

As Strand's cock surged up her, Amanda gasped. Nearly every cock that had ever surged up her had felt good, but for some inexplicable reason Strand's felt frustratingly so. Amanda ground her hips upwards. Her eyes were tightly shut for the physical reality of just what was fucking her reduced the amazing sensations. She might have smiled had she not been so aroused when she thought 'What the eye doesn't see the heart, but in her case mind, doesn't grieve over.' He was pounding her harder and harder and faster and faster. She raised her legs to curl them along his sides. To increase the sensations and deepen his penetration of her even more, she crossed them behind his back and linked her ankles across the top of his podgy ass to gain more leverage. It really was for her a stupendous fuck, but for the life of her she couldn't understand why.

Strand could hardly believe the way that Amanda was performing. He had rarely had any woman, particularly one he was fucking for the first time and especially one as noble as she, respond the way she was. Although he was surprised, his vanity put it down to his fine sexual technique and that in turn seemed to get the best from him.

She climaxed quite quickly, but then when Strand hardly broke the rhythm of his deep thrusts she was amazed to find herself starting again. That just never happened to her. In the past she had always needed to recover slowly from a climax and rest for a while before the orgasmic sensations started again. None of the handsome, even beautiful men who had made love to her made her cum like this. Yet this overweight, odious, sweaty, arrogant bastard was still fucking her and still making her cum. Her groans grew longer and louder, with each downward thrust as she abandoned herself to the wild and uninhibited onslaught. In her wildest dreams, she had never expected it to be anything like this!

Later, on the carriage ride back to her lodgings Amanda had a mixture of feelings. She felt badly used, yet sexually satisfied. She felt abused, demeaned and humiliated, but also disappointed and disgusted yet uplifted and fulfilled. Mostly though, she felt confused. She was confused at her reaction, confused about Strand arousing her so much and about her response to the bastard, confused about Fairfax, confused as to her role with Strand and as a spy for the North.

As the carriage made its way slowly through the almost deserted streets of the Capital her thoughts became more focused on the men in her life. Smiling she recognised that she had always had problems with them.

Her husband Samuel had left her for another woman, Bernard D'argent her older lover seemed to prefer travelling the world to being with her and Fairfax, well he had always been a problem. She had started thinking of him as the man she loved, the man she could spend the rest of her life with, but now she was seeing him in a different light and that posed some awkward questions for her. How could he ask her to spy for him? How dare he ask her to surrender her body to another man? That he wanted her to have sex with any man to gain information was insulting, but with the married Deputy Lieutenant Governor of Georgia it was despicable. It brought into question his feelings for her, both those concerning respect and his love for her. Yes, she was practically single, but didn't Fairfax love her the way she did him? Sending her to Strand with such ulterior motives was morally and romantically so wrong!

Secondly, she felt used by Strand. He had dominated her, controlled her and fucked her like he would a slut or a whore. In some ways, she felt disgusted and shameful at what she had done, and what she had allowed the overweight man to do to her. She had given herself completely to the aggressor and she had revelled like a bitch in heat in the way that he had used her, taken her and fucked her.

A major problem was that she had never experienced such a wanton thrill before. How he had turned from trying to seduce in the way that most men do, to almost leaping on her and tearing her clothes off, was so confusingly arousing. There was no consideration for what Amanda might desire. Just a need for the lustful man to establish his dominance, just as if he was branding a steer!

Then there was the way he fucked her. It was with such a lack of inhibitions that he literally did take her breath away. He had made her cum three times before reaching his own orgasm. And when she had pleaded with him not to cum inside her, the triumphant way he had pulled out at the last moment and fired his creamy seed over her belly and tits was so demeaning, but also intensely thrilling.

My God, she could almost climax again just at the recollection! What was happening to her?

She had to acknowledge that she had enjoyed eating dinner clad just in her underwear with her breasts bare to his gaze. She had found pleasure in being dominated, abused and demeaned and she had found such excitement at being taken with all the ferocity of an animal!

Reaching her lodgings, there was some relief when she saw that Fairfax's carriage was not in the courtyard. She would not have been able face him so quickly after what her body, and her mind, had just experienced and with the confusion about her feelings for him roaring round her mind?

Safely inside, and still feeling aroused with all those thoughts whirling around her head, Milly helped her undress. Even the inadvertent touch of her maid's fingers on her naked flesh made her tingle. She noticed Milly giving her a strange look, then realised she would have noticed she'd worn her corset without either a chemmy or camisole.

The knock on the door interrupted her blushes. Oh no! Surely it wasn't Fairfax? Not now! How could she face him? Her heart pounding, she turned to her maid. "You answer it Milly, let me put on a night robe."

"Will that suffice ma'am, if you have a gentleman caller? Milly asked, her eyes indicating her shock at such a suggestion.

Smiling at the girl's naivety, but loving the caring attitude towards her, Amanda gently insisted, "Don't you worry about that Milly, I will be fine. You just go and let the General in, and put a jug of wine, some fruit and cheese in the rear sitting room, please."

When Milly left, Amanda panicked. What could she say? How could she make love to him after what she'd just experienced? He'd see the fierce red marks and scratches where Strand's overly enthusiastic caresses and sucking had marked her breasts, thighs and buttocks. He'd see the look in her eyes and would feel the tension in her body. He was not an intelligence officer without reason.

Fate came to her rescue.

"I am sorry ma'am," Milly said, as she returned to Amanda's boudoir. "It was not the General, but a messenger."

She handed the small envelope to her mistress.

"Thank you Milly," Amanda replied, unable to stop the shudder of relief as it passed through her. She quickly tore open the envelope, to read a message from Strand.

You were wonderful tonight, my dear Amanda. I promise the next time will be even better. I can hardly wait!

Oh God!! Where the hell was all this taking her?

***

Feeling a little dull after the ten hour journey Fairfax was met at the station by a military carriage that was his for the day. It transported him to an office near Wall Street.

"How much?" The merchant asked him.

"As much as won't raise suspicion and do it every other day until I advise you to stop."

"Are you sure?"

"That's for me to know and you to do as you are told," Fairfax said sternly as he stood up indicating the end to the meeting. "I bid you good day sir and let me know by telegraph how things proceed."

"Yes of course Mister Coleman," the merchant said as Fairfax left his office and walked the two blocks to where he had alighted from the carriage.

Sitting in the closed carriage as it transported him the few blocks to his next meeting he was feeling pleased with himself. If all went to plan with his short selling scheme he would make well in excess of a million dollars during the rest of the slump. It was of course predicated on the price of cotton falling so that he could buy huge amounts in the future at the reduced price and sell them at the slightly lower price than the five dollars a pound at which it was currently trading.

'Misters Coleman, Carruthers, Carter, Clark and Carrick' had made similar arrangement with merchants in the Wall Street area. Fairfax met with each of them during the course of morning!

It was after lunch time when he reached his next destination. The carriage ride up and across Manhattan had been long and tedious as they travelled north westward towards the Hudson River. Once on the wider and smoother Bloomingdale Road the two horse carriage made a faster speed and they reached the large brownstone farm house overlooking the river in Hollow Way at just after two o'clock.

He was warmly greeted by the five men he had invited to the house that his father had built a few years previous just before his death. It was one of numerous properties that he had inherited. This one, Union Farm, was occupied by his mistress who often played hostess to dinner parties that Fairfax organised. She also arranged meetings, lunches, dinner parties and sometimes near orgies for Fairfax and his business colleagues. Having agreed the menu with cook and laid out copious amounts of wine, beer, port and brandy, Charlotte Fielding had retired to her quarters on the top floor bolting the door behind her just in case. She knew that after the meeting had finished Fairfax would come to her and they would have sex, but she wanted none of the others to enter her private quarters.

When Lennon was scheduled to travel on the early six am train from Washington he had instructed Charlotte to arrange the meeting for dinner, but after Amanda's change of plans he managed to contact all but two of the group by telegram and told her to change it to the earlier lunch time meeting. This, they both greedily acknowledged would then allow him the whole evening and night with Charlotte before taking a morning train back to the capital.

The six of them ate heartily on oxtail soup, fresh trout, mutton stew, mixed fruits and cheese washed down by white and red wines.

These men were an unelected and unrecognised by any authority body which had two purposes: freeing the north of the old fashioned, restraining influences of the South and making as much money for the city and themselves as possible. Simple, straightforward and to them at least very noble aims.

As the port and brandy were passed round the table and pipes and cigars were lit the conversation moved onto the main issues at hand.

"Just not enough of the commercial sector will support action against the Southern bastards" John Astor the relatively youthful at thirty eight financier and Brigadier General in the army growled.

"Well to an extent you can understand some of their reasoning" Hamilton Fish the fifty year old ex-Governor of and then Senator for the State of New York replied.

"And that is?" Astor probed.

Benjamin Isherwood the handsome young naval engineer chimed in. "Well for one fucking reason they are scared of losing trade through New York. If the South put an embargo on cotton coming north and New Orleans lowers it tariffs we're fucked as a port. They all know that."

"Now now Ben, keep calm," Thomas Devin chipped in.

"How can I keep calm when everywhere I look I see some silly bastard fucking something up?"

"True and I do understand" Devin, the dashing thirty seven-year-old head of the cavalry said quietly. "But we need to think and plan; that's why we are here not to blow off steam."

"We also need to find ways to reassure the merchants and shippers that should the worst happen and more States elect for secession that they will get paid," Fish advised.

"Why do you think they wouldn't pay?" Devin asked.

"It's conceivable" Astor said calmly.

"How much would be lost?"

"At the last count just over two hundred million," Astor advised the listening group.

"My fucking lord that much?" Isherwood exploded. "We really are between a rock and a hard place aren't we?"

"Yes Benjamin we are," Richard Delafield who was in overall charge of New York harbour defences and an expert on war having visited the Crimea and England said. "If we do nothing the South's slothful ways and old fashioned practices will stop us developing and if we oppose them they can harm us very much."

Looking at Lennon, Hamilton Fish said quietly. "Well General I guess this is where you come in isn't it for clearly to get ahead of the game we need better and more intelligence don't we?"

"Yes sir," Fairfax stood up and moved across the room near to the window. "We are collecting masses of information, but getting close to the leaders in the South and finding out what is really going on is proving very difficult."

"There must be something we can do to get close to some of those, what do they call themselves fire fucking blowers?" Isherwood asked sounding rather drunk.

"Eaters" Lennon said.

"What?"

"They call themselves Fire-Eaters."

"Oh right yeah that's it I knew it was fire fucking something."

They all laughed.

"Just the stupid sort of name that bunch of cretins would call themselves isn't it?" Devin suggested.

"Stupid the name may be, but do not underestimate them," Lennon advised. "They are well-organised and funded, have extremely clear aims, are very difficult to infiltrate and they are completely ruthless."

"Hmmm so what do we do? Are they key to us getting ahead of the South?" Astor the phenomenally rich financier and soldier asked. "Would bribery help? If it's a case of funding..." his voice tailed off.

"No John it's not that, we have the funds and you have been more than generous, it's simply getting close to them isn't it Fairfax?" Delafield who was an expert on both military and intelligence asked.

"Yes Thomas it is and with some luck and a fair wind we may well have just done that" the General said looking at his watch and wondering what Amanda was doing.

"How is that?" Devin asked.

"Well we have a lady who is er, um close to Oliver Strand," Lennon said slowly.

"What that Lieutenant Governor of which fucking State is it?" Isherwood slurred.

"Georgia," Astor told him. "And he's the Deputy not the Lieutenant Governor."

"How close Lennon?" Fish asked.

"Very sir, in fact she may well have slept with him last night.

"Why would she sleep with that fat pig?"

"Two reasons Fish. She has something to sell that he can help her sell, or so he says."

"What her plantation?"

"Yes."

"And the other?"

"She supports our aims, remember she was educated up here and her mother was a libersal."

"I assume you mean Missus Williams don't you General?" Delafield asked. "I know her. I met her when I visited England in fifty five. She is a bounteous filly make no mistake."

"She's the La Salle daughter isn't she that married Samuel Williams and moved to England?" Astor chimed in. "I met her at Harvard with you didn't I Lennon, wasn't her brother there?"

"Yes that's right" Lennon replied feeling a little uncomfortable that Amanda's cover had been blown amongst the group, although their allegiance to the cause was total.

"I know who you mean now" Isherwood interrupted. "I met at her some do in Washington earlier this year. Fuck she's delicious."

"Maybe we could all er, sample our spy," Devin laughed.

Apart from Lennon and Astor who was tea total, they were all now fairly drunk.

"Why not, God she has tits like melons if I recall," Isherwood slurred. "And the fucking things were nearly leaping out of her dress, she was wearing one of those French necklines."

"What where they nearly flash their nipples?" Devin asked. "I saw a load of them at a function at the French embassy, I was rock hard all evening."

"Not nearly" the older Hamilton Fish said, smiling as he added. "Particularly if you are tall and can look down on a lady's bosom."

As they all swigged more wine and sipped more port and brandy so they became more bawdier, louder and more vulgar with Fairfax now joining in too.

"So you get an eyeful then Fishy at your height?"

"You must see more nipples and areola than you have hot dinners."

"Actually I remember her very well from London" Dellafield told the group.

"What did you get to sample the luscious Missus Williams?" Devin asked

"Er unfortunately not, but it was rumoured that along with most women in Sam's group she was, how shall I put it, easy with her favours."

"What she got her drawers off easy you mean?" Isherwood asked beginning to feel quite excited.

"Well I did hear that she had a long-term lover, you may know him Ham."

"Who is it?"

"Bernard d'Argent."

"Bejesus Dicky he's older than me."

"Gives us all a chance then gentlemen, how about it Fairfax?" Isherwood asked.

"What?"

"Bringing her to the next meeting and getting her to deliver her report in person. Tell us what Strand told her."

Lennon smiled. "Next you'll want her to tell us what she had to let Strand do to her to sell her plantation."

"Well now you mention it that sounds a good idea."

"Even better if she tells us that with her tits out," Isherwood suggested.

Dellafield who had one of the brightest minds in the army and was a tactical expert with an extremely logical way of thinking asked.

"So Lennon pray tell us how you have come into possession of this information about Missus Williams."

Fairfax saw the warning signals.

"I am afraid sir, that is classified information."

"General, may I remind you that between us in this group there is no such thing as classified."

Astor, the main financier of the group and its covert activities was every bit the manipulator that Fairfax was. He also had a good memory.

"I see it now," he said. Although he spoke quietly he immediately gained the others attention even Isherwood's who was known for his 'don't give a damn' attitude.

"See what?" Lennon said hopefully sounding more relaxed than he felt.

"Weren't you and Missus Williams er 'friendly' when her brother was at Harvard with you."

"So that's it" Devin joined in. "You're fucking her, you lucky bastard."

They all chuckled as the conversation moved on to other topics. Astor and Dellafield took Lennon to one side.

"Is that true Lennon?"

"What" Lennon asked?

"That you are sleeping with Missus Williams?"

"Yes sir it is," he replied.

"God you really a hard hearted bastard aren't you?" Dellafield muttered.

*

The next day Amanda felt awful. She was emotionally drained, she was full of guilt and remorse, her body ached and her vagina was very sore indeed. What she had done the previous evening with Strand appalled her.

Her life was changing so much. Her husband had left her, her father had died, she had moved back to America and now she was becoming a spy. On top of that she had enjoyed a wonderful shipboard romance with Richard Jarvis, she was rekindling her long-term love affair with Fairfax Lennon, and had come very close to letting her brother restart what had happened long ago.

And now, she had let the most important man in the state of Georgia have sex with her.

She could justify most of that in her mind, but some aspects of her recent behaviour puzzled her. She could not understand how she had, so easily it seemed, let Oliver dominate her and control their sex so strongly. It had never happened before and she had no idea why it had happened. In many ways the aspect of the evening that most concerned and worried her was the excitement and sheer animalistic pleasure she had derived from what they had done together.

Amanda had always been something of a hedonist. A great deal of her life with Samuel had been devoted to seeking pleasure in one form or the other. She also admired beauty and style. She could not remember feeling anything for a man who wasn't attractive and handsome and didn't have at least a reasonable physique; Strand met none of those criteria and that made the mystery of why she had given herself so fully to him all the deeper.
And she had given herself so fully to him. She had become so absorbed in their sex that it hadn't occurred to her to try to get any information from him before they had gone to bed. It wasn't until she was lying beside him on her front and he was stroking her buttocks making little sighing sounds that she remembered.

"Mmmmm, that's nice" she whispered, telling him the absolute truth for she did have a very sensitive rump.

"You have a gorgeous ass Amanda."

"Thank you Oliver," she breathed.

"One of these days I am going to make complete and utter love to it," he advised her sending a surge of fear through her. Whilst it was sensitive and she enjoyed a modest amount of anal fun, she wasn't comfortable with full anal penetration.

"Where do you think this is all going to lead Oliver?" Amanda asked, turning her head and looking at the repulsively attractive man.

"This?" he said with a leering smile as he slid his finger into the crease of her bottom and pressed right on the hole.

Amanda managed a smile and wiggled her hips a bit as she said. "No Oliver, I can guess where that will end. I meant the problems."

"Let's have a drink and we can chat a bit," he replied squeezing the full cheek of Amanda's bum.

Without being asked, Amanda got up and got the champagne. She poured them both a glass, got back into bed and snuggled up to Strand who slid his arm round her shoulders and dangled his fingers down her chest so they just touched the top of her breasts. Other than the fact that she half hated the evil, conniving bastard who had just dominated, abused and then fucked her, it was a tender and loving scene.

"So?" she asked, resting her fingers on his upper thigh, knowing full well the effect it would have in him. It did, Strand started to get aroused again even though experience told him it would be ages before he would be fully hard and that it was unlikely that he would be able to cum again that night.

"Well my dear," he started to pontificate. There was nothing he liked more than talking and having the rapt attention of an audience, particularly a female and especially a naked one as attractive and sexy as Amanda. "For a start it is very serious indeed. The fucking Yankees and us are like two locomotives or herds of buffalos hurtling towards each other completely out of control. I can't think of a way of stopping either; our views are just too diametrically opposed."

"On the labour issue?"

"Well yes, but it's more, much, much more than just the stupid, fucking slaves."

"What is it then?"

Strand droaned on for some time about free trade and how that would ruin the South and particularly the cotton industry. Squeezing her breast he muttered.

"So you see madam, if we do not resist the Northern madmen, our whole way of life will change, we will be completely dominated by them and the cotton industry will be ruined. Along with it of course, Selby Bluff will become virtually worthless."

"Oh no," she groaned.

"I'm afraid so and that's why we have to fight them."

"You mean war? Civil war?"

"If necessary yes, but they will, back down from that, I mean with the other things at our disposal."

"Such as?"

"Well, have you heard about Secession?"

"Yes I have read about it."

"If Lincoln becomes President then we will press the button. It's all arranged."

"And then what will happen?"

"We'll set up a separate government of the Confederacy, its nearly organised now."

"That's amazing Oliver," she cooed running her fingers up the inside of his thigh.

He was surprised at himself for as the side of Amanda's hand touched his rather large and unattractively hairy balls he felt himself hardening; 'Surely not this soon' he thought a little worried about trying to perform again just an hour or so after cumming. That was rare for him and would be quite an achievement.

"But don't worry your little head about the value of your plantation, I think I have found a buyer who will look at things longer-term."

"Really Oliver? That's incredible" Amanda whispered her hand cradling his balls, which even though he was like a loathsome slug felt lovely as she rolled them with her fingers.

'Fuck she's getting me going' he thought, pinching Amanda's nipple and pulling it.

"Yes the values won't fall much in Georgia for South Carolina will leave the Union first."

"Why them?"

"They have some hotheads in their congress; they have already drawn up the legal papers to declare their secession that will stop Lincoln and his cronies."

"Won't that affect South Carolina though? Amanda asked, running her fingers along Oliver's rapidly hardening shaft.

"Yes" he groaned as the lovely feeling of being aroused by a beautiful woman washed over him. "But fuck them it will help Georgia."

"How will it do that?" Amanda asked, realising that she was starting to spy for she had wrapped one hand round Oliver's thickening staff and she was slowly pumping that up and down while she held his balls with the other. "Is that nice?" She went on as she heard him grunt and pinch her nipple even harder.

"Oh yes, it's exquisite," he moaned.

Amanda was silent for a moment or two as she worked on Strand's stubby cock. By averting her eyes from his face and focusing on his genitals she was able to overcome her aversion to his appearance, although the hairy, fat stomach on which she was resting her arm was quite repulsive to her. Despite the 'treachery' of what she was doing, using sex and her body to get information, her dislike of Strand and the man's clear disdain for women who she could see he thought of simply as objects to have sex with, she was excited. She was also pleased that his erection was starting and that she was clearly arousing him. Irrespective of the situation she wanted the reassurance, as women do that she could still do that to a man.

Strand was sexually elated. Rarely did he let a woman do such things to him. He was protective of both his sexual reputation and the degree of control he would vest in a woman. Once he had fucked them, he was usually finished with them. He would not let them near him or try to have them again because he was worried that he might not get hard or be able to climax again and that might make them mock him or, even worse laugh at him.

Amanda was different. She was taking over, she was caressing him and it was working. The irritation in his scrotum that signals impending movement in his penis had started. His nether regions were tingling and his chest was filling with a passion he had not felt so shortly after a climax for many years.

"Madam," he groaned cupping a breast with one hand and grabbing Amanda's hair with the other "I hope you know what you are doing."

"Oh yes Mister Strand, I know exactly what I am doing," Amanda cooed, licking her tongue the length of Strand's cock.

Just as his stubby cock slid into her mouth an elderly woman let herself out from the narrow chamber that ran between the main bedroom and a dressing room. Half-way down that chamber there was a knot in the pine panelling that could be removed affording a view across the entire bedroom. Missus Calthorpe's old bones were aching from the time she had spent in there watching her hated master and Missus Williams.

fucking   through   georgia  

Apr 3, 2018 in anal

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