Revenge of the Dixie Devil

Published by Xcite Books Ltd – 2012

ISBN 9781908917898

These stories also appear in Past Pleasures

Copyright © Xcite Books Ltd 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY

The stories contained within this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

Contents

Revenge of the Dixie Devil
by Sylvia Lowry

On the outskirts of Atlanta, I could hear Sherman’s army skirmishing with a valiant band of Confederate volunteers. A cloud of black smoke rose in the distance and then diffused as the sound of gunfire diminished, suggesting a brief recess from the heat of battle. Was it a sign of fleeting southern victory? After the hardships of 1864, it seemed hardly possible, but a passionate and intractable yearning for victory lingered in my heart as I observed the road from the portico of my house.

I saw the union officer approaching up my driveway, emerging from the black vapours of battle as a startling vision. Astride a magnificent stallion, he casually admired the oaks lining the driveway, his eyes turning to the stately porticoes of the house. The mansion had been eroded by gunshot and lack of care, but I was determined to remain stalwart; the mere presence of a trespassing enemy would not dispel my devotion to the Confederate cause. I raised my skirts, true to aristocratic form, and walked forward to greet him.

‘How goes the battle, Captain?’ I smiled, my lips betraying a defensive irony.

‘The rebels have dispersed, but are perhaps not defeated.’ He wiped his brow in frustration. ‘But we’ll soon rout them, in the name of Abe Lincoln and the glory of the Union.’

I crossed my arms, smiling politely in defiance. ‘I have little patience for Mr Lincoln, Jefferson Davis or conflict of any kind. I’m weary of the follies of this war.’

The Captain sighed and waved dismissively. ‘Yes, lady, we all seek an end to the needless conflict that occurs when a nation is divided against itself.’ He glanced about nervously as if anticipating an ambush, finally extracting a sheaf of papers from his coat. ‘I’ll get to the point. I’m seeking the Dixie Devil, a lowly Confederate spy and marauder. Have you seen him? He’s said to operate in these parts.’

I shook my head incredulously and laughed at the blunt announcement. ‘No, sir. I have never heard of this “Devil” and have no interest in such unrefined and violent personalities.’ My eyes turned to the papers in his hand. ‘And what are those documents, if I may ask? You must pardon a lady’s inquisitiveness.’

‘Plans, naturally, and maps. It’s a scheme to extricate the Dixie Devil from the face of this southern earth … But I reveal too much …’

I nodded. ‘Naturally, the documents of your trade do not interest a demure civilian lady. But as long as you’re here, let me show you some hospitality after your long ride. Some coffee, perhaps?’ Beckoning, I led the Captain to my kitchen where I poured him a cup of viscous java from a diminishing supply; beans were rare in the wake of the Yankee invasion. He immediately settled into a tenuous ease.

‘Ah, very good.’ Drinking indelicately, he stared with fatigue at the floor. ‘And you’re sure, my lady, that you have not seen the Dixie Devil?’

‘Of course not! And why does this question demand repeating?’ Sweating from the infernal heat of the kitchen, I began to loosen my corset, relishing a liberating sensation as my breasts were emancipated from their wicked constraint. As I sighed with indelicate pleasure, a capricious thought entered my mind. ‘But Captain, I’m now getting curious. This “Dixie Devil” sounds like quite a provocative figure. The name suggests an individual who is elusive … Almost phantasmal, no?’

He nodded and sipped his coffee. ‘Yes. He’s robber, a spy, and a scourge to the Union – but an undeniable will-o’-the-wisp, a very elusive quarry. During the battle of Wilson’s Creek, he managed to rob 15 men blind, seize a bag of union gold as well as Colonel’s Taggart’s maps. A superhuman feat …’

‘Yes, those are quite impressive achievements. But has anyone actually seen this “Devil”?’

‘No, my lady. Not exactly in the flesh.’

‘Fascinating.’ I paused in reflection, recognising that a delicious gambit was emerging. In the distance, I heard more desperate bursts of artillery, which impelled me to extend an impulsive offer. ‘I realise that perhaps I could help in your search, in my small way.’

‘Yes?’ He stared at me incredulously, stunned at his unexpected reversal of fortune.

I nodded. ‘There are some things I’d like you to do for me, Captain. In exchange, I may offer a little information if you do them well.’

‘Information about the Dixie Devil?’

‘Yes … Please come this way.’ I led him into the bedroom, and I found myself stranded gloriously between fear and arousal. ‘The Georgia heat is merciless, Captain; you’ll excuse me if lie down in the interest of health.’ I reclined on the bed, writhing coyly, enjoying the charged aura of the moment. I had always taken immense pleasure in the prelude to a seduction, but now I startled myself with the unexpected frisson of my pussy grinding into the bedsheets; I could feel my ass tremble as my clit swelled delectably.

‘Captain, I’d first like you to take your shirt off.’ His hand trembled, as if he had been startled by the blunt candour of my request. ‘Just do it, please.’ I relished the effortless, empowering control that I had summoned; he proceeded quickly, depositing the garment into a random heap on the floor, placing the crumpled papers on the nightstand.

‘Now your trousers. They must be insufferably warm.’ He responded nervously, initially struggling with one leg, leaving him stranded endearingly in the centre of the room, the image of a desultory hero in demand of rescue. I imagined that I could sense the hoof beats of Union cavalry emerging over a dusty hill; or perhaps it was the mere acceleration of my heartbeat. In the midst of removing the garment, he started incredulously.

‘What is that?’ A feline shape had rubbed against his ankles. Now fully naked, he looked delectably vulnerable. I’d always loved a man who was susceptible to indecent suggestion.

‘Alas, just my cat, Popcorn, the second best pussy in Georgia, if you understand my meaning, Captain.’ I winked to underscore my indelicate message. ‘Much finer remuneration awaits if you’ll agree to massage my shoulders.’ Kicking off my shoes and hiking up my skirt, I slithered face-first onto the bed, raising my ass in enticement, issuing a guttural purr that sounded like the roar of distant artillery. He approached slowly, first sitting cautiously to my side, kneading my shoulders with small, tentative movements. A rising sensation of warmth ascended through my nipples and clit as my muscles loosened in counterpoint to my arousal. ‘Hmm, I’ve always wanted to feel the hands of a northern hero.’

‘Does this please you, my lady?’

‘Just keep going,’ I muttered impatiently as his efforts continued, and had turned my attention to the wall when I felt a delectable sensation – the Captain had abruptly straddled me, placing his erect cock between my lightly clothed buttocks.

I purred, ‘Whoa, Captain. You get points for initiative, sir.’

‘Is that more acceptable, ma’am?’ His shaft was now fully enlarged and pulsating as he intensified his contact; I could sense the delicious impression of his swollen head through my bloomers.

‘Hell, yeah. I can feel your cock. Shit, it’s hard as a musket.’ The enlarged shaft massaged my ass as I conjured a delicious vision of the entire member sliding into my pussy. ‘Shit, just keep doing that. Your cock feels great.’ He thrust against me abruptly, triggering a warm, teasing sensation, the impish movement removed from an authentic fuck by a hair’s breadth of fabric. I raised my ass, relishing the shuddering intensity of the unforeseen stroke, turning backwards to issue another command.

‘Let’s proceed to greater – intimacies, shall we? I want to feel your northern tongue eating my southern pussy.’ I removed my bloomers, feeling an immediate sensation of release as I cast the heavy garment onto the floor. I felt my clit rise, glistening and swollen, stroked by a draught of warm air as my pussy collided lusciously with his enthusiastic tongue. As he stared at my glistening womanhood, eyes glazed and enraptured, I reached for the papers, which unfortunately lay out of reach, inaccessibly lodged behind a lamp. Failing in my mission, I returned to the delights at hand.

‘Shit … Lick that little pussy, Captain.’ I clamped my thighs around his ears, relishing the slow entrance of his tongue, the moisture of his saliva merging with my own fluids, his motion first tentative and then more insistent as he extended his tongue upwards, allowing me to compress my cunt around its slobbering breadth, grinding and fucking it like a surrogate cock. A small shudder emerged before vanishing, forcing me to collapse forward, grasping the edge of the blanket as he gasped for air.

‘Ma’am?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are you ready to reveal your information?’

I sighed impatiently. ‘Not yet. Just keep licking that Georgia peach.’ My nipples hardened as the Captain’s delirious lapping drove me closer to orgasm while deliciously suspending the finality of the act. But alas, I was increasingly eager to wrap my lips around his cock, which I observed had reached a state of lovely rigidity; eating my pussy had clearly inspired my Captain to granite hardness.

‘Time to taste your weapon, dear Captain.’ I deftly realigned myself in a 69 position, unwilling to let his tongue abandon my clit, greedily consuming his erection in a single gesture. It shuddered violently as I inhaled its length in broad, vertical strokes, still relishing the attentions of his tongue as it continued to stroke my pussy.

‘Mmm, I love sucking your Yankee cock, sir.’ Making my filthy declaration, I caressed the interior of his thighs before returning my attentions to his cock with a single dramatic sweep of my tongue, salivating on his taut testicles before licking the head, now wavering as it jettisoned a mischievous droplet of semen. ‘It fucking turns me on to see your come, sweetheart. It’s exquisite -- But save that big load for the final battle.’ I spoke as if I was examining the features of a stallion with a connoisseur’s affection as my lips descended, salivating further, engulfing the entire length of his shaft, my lips ceasing their movement as they achieved the base, my fingers cupping his tightening scrotum, embracing the quivering sack in my palm. I was awash in luscious sensations, yet I needed to accelerate the proceedings.

‘I adore your cock in my mouth, Captain, but there’s one thing …’

‘What is it?’ he muttered, a grace note of insecurity audible in his voice.

‘I’m too fucking wet to wait any longer.’ I raised my head upwards, laughing. ‘I want to feel your northern cock in me – I’d be honoured if you’d fuck my little southern pussy.’ Sticking my derrière upwards, ripping off my dress, I grabbed his quavering member without further word, inserting the erection into my cunt as he complemented my movement with a single brisk stroke, his tremulous, swollen head making a slight infiltration into my snatch; looking backwards, I could see a rivulet of my delirious wetness run down his shaft.

He panted frantically. ‘Deeper?’

‘Fuck, yes. Let the north invade the south, honey.’ I could sense the contours of the head plumb my cunt as he thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock to make a slightly more daring incursion.

He defencelessly muttered, ‘More?’ as I could feel its slippery expedition continue, still incomplete, as I stared into his eyes with an urgency bordering on antagonism.

‘Don’t be so fucking polite, Captain. Slide your tool in and screw the hell out of me.’ He obeyed my command, grasping my waist as the delicious shaft penetrated me entirely. I envisioned myself riding into a ferocious battle, surrounded by mayhem and black smoke as he fucked me without mercy, compelling me to lurch forward like a helpless mount.

‘How does a southern counterattack feel?’ I thrust rearward, performed a forceful stroke, my ass making a deliciously audible smack against his abdomen as my motion forced his cock to ferociously lash against my clit; I imagined that every stroke would make my pussy explode, and a new fusillade of gunfire in the distance seemed to mirror the unbounded erotic force that our rabid fuck had unleashed.

‘Wonderful, ma’am. God, it feels amazing inside you.’

I continued to screw him with a furious horizontal motion, driving his cock into my depths even as the intensity of sensation in my pussy had become nearly unbearable; spanning ecstasy and discomfort, my clit swelled further. I imagined myself riding a stallion to duel with General Sherman himself, surrendering to a blissful state of freedom as the Captain began to caress my erect nipples.

‘Mmm, I like it when you play with my tits while you fuck me, Captain.’

He responded with bravado to my compliment and pinched harder, the sensation momentarily distracting me as I tried again to reach for the sheaf of papers; alas, they still remained tantalizingly out of reach. He was clearly more interested in our spirited fuck than protecting his documents … Watching a large mirror hanging on the opposite wall, I could observe his ass frantically expanding and contracting as he fucked, a torrent of perspiration descending into his arse crack and onto the multi-coloured face of a ceramic doll. I imagined the statuette weeping orgasmic tears of joy.

‘Lady, I must ask again. Are you ready to reveal your information?’

‘No dear, just keeping fucking me and all will be revealed.’ I licked the Captain’s ear in gratitude, plumbing its depths with my tongue, whispering filthy encouragement. ‘God … Damn … I love your cock inside me, feeling your head sliding inside me … Ooohhh …’ I paused as an unusually vigorous stroke caressed my clit, impelling a delicious shudder. ‘Man … Just keep screwing me with that fucking cock … Fucking my little Georgia pussy … Shit …’ I expelled a desperate gasp and reflexively buckled forward like a mustang.

‘What is it?’ His eyes lit up with terror and arousal.

‘Your cock is making me come …’ I gritted my teeth, uttering a filthy mantra for every magnificent stroke of his cock against my clit. ‘Fuck … Fuck … Fuck …’

The Captain then began a fuller onslaught and I could feel his cock pulse violently, on the verge of ejaculation, its length tremulous and throbbing, the movement causing me to gape wordlessly as his shaft retreated and then burrowed inwards, my hips and buttocks now greeting his thrusts, shuddering fiercely as I came. My orgasm shuddered into life as I imagined artillery detonating over Vicksburg, a delirious sensation of release ripping through my pussy and nipples.