The 102nd Virginia Ch. 01

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Foot Fetish

(This series is only loosely based on facts surrounding the Gettysburg campaign of 1863. None of the major characters are intended to represent any real persons. Units, corps, and other battle-related facts are not meant to exactly mirror the actions of either army at Gettysburg.)

June 29, 1863

Outside Chambersburg, PA

Elizabeth Wade opened the back door and peeked in both directions. She dared not go out the front. Rumors of Confederates in the area had been discarded by Mrs. Wade until the previous evening, when smoke rose above the trees less than two miles to the east, where there should have been no smoke.

Now she gathered up the shawl that hung from her neck and walked briskly towards the barn. She’d do the chores as normal, but with an eye cast up the road. Her long brown hair fluttered behind her as she moved rapidly, nervously taking care of chickens, cows and pigs.

In all her thirty years, she was never this frightened. Oh, how she wanted her Robert home with her. They said they would add to their family of four when he returned. Until the danger passed, her son and daughter were with her mother in Pittsburgh. She prayed every night they would all live long enough to be back together.

A short distance away, to the east of the Wade farm, the men Elizabeth feared most huddled around morning campfires.

“I hear that ol’ Lee has no clue where the yankees are,” Sam Fisher grumbled, poking at the fire with a stick.

“Yeah. Showman Jeb has gone on another of his publicity seeking joyrides with the cavalry and kinda left him guessing,” Jack Campbell replied, pulling off his coat.

The morning air was already full of humidity and warmth, not a good sign for the travel-worn members of the 102nd Virginia infantry. They had left the comfort and safety of Virginia three weeks previous and were now in southern Pennsylvania, living meagerly off the land or what they could ‘buy’ from the locals as they passed through.

It was rolling farmland mainly, with thick woods, corn and wheat fields, and the occasional small village. Hatred for the Confederates was more than evident, although violent hostility was rare. Days were spent marching and foraging.

And repeatedly reading the latest mail from home. Jack pulled out the most recent letter from his wife Jennie, back on the farm in southwest Virginia.

Sam was rambling on, but Jack was lost deep in thought about his beautiful brown eyed wife and their two year old daughter. The only picture he had of Jennie was nearly faded out, and rains from a few weeks ago left it wrinkled. But he kept it with the letter and used them both as reasons to continue living from day to day.

He was almost done reading when a sergeant rushed up.

“Campbell. Fisher,” the short, bearded man bellowed. “Go get Wilson and an empty wagon and take a ride down that road.”

The sergeant pointed to a nearby dirt path heading west.

“Don’t start no trouble. Just find whatever supplies you can. Bread. Meat. Especially meat,” he said. “Bacon. Ham. Whatever they got at the first farm you come to. Give ’em a receipt and tell ’em Richmond will send ’em cash.”

He was about to leave, but turned and said, “And keep your hands off the women.”

Jack and Sam were actually pleased to have something to keep them occupied for a few hours. Neither of them had made an ‘official’ visit to a farm on the march into Pennsylvania, so it promised to offer a nice reprieve from the daily routine. And the youngster Wilson would be entertaining, if not necessarily helpful.”

Jack Campbell was twenty five. Tall, lean, and good looking, his rugged face and body made him the target of many young women before Jennie latched on. He was smart, dedicated to the cause, and fearless.

Sam was in his mid thirties, heavier set with an unkempt beard, as opposed to Jack’s neatly trimmed facial hair. Sam had volunteered right after the news of Fort Sumter, and had fought in several hot spots already. His calm demeanor was soothing to the newly enlisted Jack.

Wilson was just eighteen. He joined the 102nd in May. Little did he know what he was in for, but his youth made him blind to it anyway.

As soon as a wagon was found, the three soldiers set off down the road. Morning fog was lifting and bright sunshine overhead promised good weather. The only sounds, once they left the proximity of the camp, came from the mourning doves, pheasants, and wagon wheels on the gravel path.

“I’d pay the devil for some new shoes,” Sam groused while fumbling with his boots. “These gave out sometime around Sharpsburg.”

“I heard somebody say there’s a town close by called Gettysburg that was supposed to have shoes,” Jack said. “Maybe we’ll get there.”

“Or maybe that farm has some,” Wilson said, pointing at a farmhouse when they got to the top of a small rise in the road.

“I see a smokehouse,” Jack said, squinting in the morning sun. “And I hear cattle. So far so good.”

“Now if these folk get nasty,” Sam warned, “we’re Anadolu Yakası Escort to turn right back and skedaddle. Got it?”

Jack and Wilson nodded.

Jack was paying more attention to a figure he saw between the smokehouse and the farmhouse. There was no mistaking the sight of a woman; a woman with long, flowing, dark hair that reminded him instantly of Jennie. Even the way she moved was like her.

The three Confederates saw her look their way. She stopped dead in her tracks. And then rushed inside the back of the house.

“She’s getting her man,” Sam said. “Remember, no trouble here or the sergeant will have us hung from a tree.”

The two-story farmhouse sat in front of a medium size farm by northern standards. The rebs would have loved to own a farm as nice, with its German barn, outbuildings, and smokehouse. And as soon as they saw the horses in the first barn they passed, each of them knew they would not come away empty handed from this scavenger hunt.

Once off the wagon, they approached cautiously, instinctively separating themselves by several paces to make it harder for someone to take them all out at once. But no shots were fired by the time they were at the rear of the house. Sam stepped onto the creaky back porch and pounded on the door.

He moved to the side of the door, musket raised at his side, ready for quick use if need be.

“Who is it?” a female voice called out.

“Open up, ma’am,” Sam ordered.

A short pause was followed by an unlatching of the door and another squeak as it opened. Sam could only see the woman’s frightened face.

“Members of the 102nd Virginia infantry, first corps, under the command of Major General Pickett and General Longstreet, here to purchase from you necessary supplies in compliance with the orders of commanding General Lee. Open up, ma’am.”

Elizabeth had been told by Esther McVicker just the week before that the rebels wiped out entire villages that refused to supply them. Her survival the rest of the summer depended on her store of meat. Yet, disobedience meant never getting to see Robert again.

She opened the door half way, enough to see the faces of the three men encircling her porch.

“I’ve got nothing,” she said with a quivering voice.

“Where’s your husband?” Sam asked.

“He’s in town. He’ll be back soon,” she replied.

Same wouldn’t have believed her even without looking into her eyes.

“Let us in, ma’am”

He didn’t wait for her approval. Sam barged in, followed quickly by Jack and Wilson. Jack and Elizabeth exchanged fleeting looks as they passed, Elizabeth searching for a non-threatening face and Jack searching for his young wife in the first female face he had seen up close in weeks.

“Not much evidence of a man in here,” Sam said. “I’d hate to think you’d lie to us. Is all the meat in the smokehouse?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Please don’t take everything. I beg you. Leave me enough to live on.”

“Just you?” Jack asked her. “Not your husband.”

She knew right away she had been caught, and nearly broke into tears. Sam was the first to allay her fears. “Wilson. You and me will check out the smokehouse, leaving the lady a little for herself. Jack, stay here and collect whatever supplies you can.”

After Sam and Wilson left, Jack laid his gun on the kitchen table and said to Elizabeth, “Don’t worry, ma’am. Sam’s a decent man. He’s got a family, too. He’ll leave you something.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said meekly.

“Do you have flour, sugar? Anything?”

“In the cellar,” she replied.

“Will you take me?”

She led him back outside and around to the corner of the house. She pulled open the large door to the sunken cellar and preceded Jack down the steps. His eyes never left her, taking in every move she made. Her dress, while clearly old, fit perfectly around her well proportioned body. She was average in height and weight and undoubtedly healthy.

Once inside, Jack walked around the large space, making a mental inventory of the cans of flour and sugar. When he glanced back at Elizabeth, she quickly looked away.

“How long has he been gone?” Jack asked.

“My husband? Almost two years.”

“Where is he?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Last I heard, Virginia.”

“Strange,” Jack said, as he walked back to her. “He’s there and I’m here.”

“It isn’t fair, is it?” Elizabeth said, now openly staring into his eyes.

He wasn’t at all the barbarian Esther had described. He was a man, like her Robert, in unfamiliar territory trying to endure. There was a little bit of fear in both of their faces. And something else. A longing for normalcy, perhaps. Maybe a reassurance they weren’t alone.

“What’s his name?” Jack inquired.

“Robert. And hers?”


“She looks like you,” he said, reaching out. “With your hair.”

He ran the back of his fingers down the side of her head.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, then quickly opened them. “You should get your supplies.”

His Bostancı Escort hand had not stopped. It was on her shoulder.

“I will,” Jack said.

He put the palm of his hand on her bare skin, pushing it away from her neck and taking the top of her dress with it. When he got to the curve of her shoulder, he moved to the other side and pushed the dress aside there, too. The straps of her chemise lingered behind.

Elizabeth’s skin was fair and unblemished, except for a small freckle on one shoulder. The rise of her breasts was evident, especially now with the quick breaths she was taking.

“We should get…”

“No. Wait,” he said. “Don’t be frightened.”

He put his hand on her chin and raised her face. He studied the eyes and nose and lips. Jack leaned down and kissed her lightly. There was no response. He put his lips on hers again and ran his tongue across the top. This time her mouth opened just a crack. Jack kissed harder.

Elizabeth didn’t want this. She wanted to push Jack away and run up the steps to the outside. Instead, she kissed him. She opened her mouth and met his tongue with hers and she kissed him. Her body ignited the way it used to with Robert and she explored his mouth with her tongue.

Jack had his hands on her upper arms, gradually tugging on the sleeves of the dress until it began falling down her arms. Elizabeth was stumbling backwards toward the wall.

“Stop. We mustn’t be found,” she managed to say.

“Be quiet. Or we will.”

Jack was kissing her neck and below it, where the dress was giving way and her chemise undergarment was not yet protecting. Her skin was warm and smooth and tender. Jack felt the throbbing between his legs begin to press against his pants and Elizabeth felt it when they crashed against the wall.

“Please,” she begged him.

He knew what she meant, but he continued his deliberate removing of the dress until her arms were completely free of the dress sleeves. Now he could see the magnificence of her generous breasts under the thin chemise. Her nipples pressed against the fabric and he ran his hands over them. Elizabeth turned her head away and closed her eyes.

Jack pushed the dress down to the floor, revealing her chemise and the off-white drawers underneath. Her stockings stopped at the knees.

“You kissed me willingly,” Jack said. “I much prefer that to your false pleadings. How can I win you back?”

“You could start by dressing me again,” she said coldly.

Jack grinned and looked down at her chest. “No, I was going to let you do that. After we’re done.”

He forced his mouth onto hers and the kiss was revisited. Again, Elizabeth gave in to an inner urge, and the kiss turned more passionate. Her hands touched him this time, only lightly on the sides. But contact was made.

Jack was more direct, clutching at her breasts through the chemise and eventually pulling on the straps until it would have fallen off if Elizabeth had not held it in place with one hand. Jack pulled the hand aside and they watched the undergarment fall to her feet.

Her breasts were full and firm. The nipples were dark and stiff. In the cool air of the cellar, goose bumps began to appear on her flawless skin. Jack immediately lowered his face to one breast and began sucking feverishly on it.

Elizabeth pushed against him half-heartedly. Jack grabbed her wrists and continued licking and sucking, alternating between the tits until the nipples were both wet from his saliva. Elizabeth felt the tingle between her legs that only Robert could cause. Until today.

“Please stop,” she moaned.

“Or what? Or you will cry out for me? For my hard cock?”

The words stunned her. She was frightened, and excited, and puzzled. How many times in the past year had she used her own hand to pleasure herself. Now this strange man, a Confederate soldier, was threatening to take her. And she felt a stimulation like the first time Robert took her in the woods. Like she felt when she put her hand…

He was touching her. Through her drawers, he was touching her there. Elizabeth opened her mouth and made no sound; just an intake of air, over and over again as he rubbed her harder. He was nibbling on her nipples and driving her wild with lust.

Her hand went to him, as if on its own accord. Elizabeth reached for his hardness and put her palm on it. She searched out its entire length.

“Do you want it?”

She wouldn’t say it. She couldn’t.

Jack’s hand slid inside the drawers and he found her wetness.

“Do you?”

A tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. He was stroking her most sensitive spot, forcing her onto her toes trying to escape his hand. And then she shrieked when two fingers were thrust inside her.

“Tell me,” he whispered. “Do you want me?”

More tears flowed. Elizabeth nodded.

Jack nearly ripped her drawers off. Elizabeth stepped out of the pile of clothes while Jack pulled out his rock hard cock. She glanced at it only briefly Erenköy Escort before he spread her legs and lifted one leg with his muscular arm. She felt his hardness against her thigh. Then he had it in place.

There was no waiting. No more kisses.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Elizabeth cried out as he entered her.

Jack grunted even louder and began to fuck her wildly. Elizabeth clung to him, totally lost in lust and fear and anger. Her bare ass rubbed against the rough wall until Jack put his hand there, pulling her closer and increasing the friction between her body and his cock.

Then he kissed her and Elizabeth submitted. Months and months of loneliness and desperation drove them both towards a much needed climax, one that would echo through the grimy cellar and leak through the floor of the house into the kitchen where Sam and Wilson waited impatiently.


“Well, did you have any luck?” Sam asked with considerable mockery when Jack and Elizabeth finally entered the house through the back door.

“Finding supplies? Yes,” Jack replied.

Elizabeth’s meek expression and tousled hair gave away the true account, as if it needed to be told.

“Where’s Wilson?” Jack asked, primarily to change the subject.

“Upstairs,” Sam said. “Why don’t you gather up them supplies and begin loading the wagon. Me and Wilson have some chores for the young lady.”

Jack didn’t like the sound of it, but he couldn’t do much to protect Elizabeth now. Reluctantly, he walked out and back towards the cellar.

In the kitchen, Sam told Elizabeth, “Heat up some water. Wilson found the bath and wants to take advantage of it while we’re here. It’s been far too long since any of us had a nice, hot bath, little lady. I’m sure you won’t mind.”

It took several minutes for the large cast iron pot of water to begin steaming over the fire. Sam watched every move the woman made and had her bring out some bread and butter while they waited. Upstairs, they heard Wilson’s footsteps as he began undressing.

Jack made numerous trips to and from the wagon, attempting each time to see inside the house, without success. It was useless anyway, as Sam soon had Elizabeth carry the hot water up to the bath, far out of sight.

Elizabeth paused at the door when she saw Wilson bending over to remove the last of his grubby clothing. She stared at the naked young man and the large cock that hung between his legs. When Wilson stood up, the skinny, youthful frame seemed child-like. Except for the manhood in front.

“I put whatever cold water I could find in there,” Wilson said. “Heat it up for me now.”

The tub was shallow and fairly short with a curved edge and simple, metal legs. There was nothing ornate about it whatsoever. To Wilson, it looked like a king’s bath.

Elizabeth walked over and poured in the entire contents of her pot. The water was now a few inches deep. She backed away, turning away from Wilson in the process. Sam stopped her a few feet from the bath.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

He forced her to turn and watch as Wilson gingerly stepped into the tub and then sank into the water, stretching out as far as he could. He settled down and rested his head on one end, smiling broadly.

“Ahhhh. This is heaven, Sam,” the teenager said. “Now get me some soap.”

Sam motioned for Elizabeth to deliver it. She took a brownish bar from the sill next to the tub and began to offer it to Wilson.

“No. Keep it,” Sam told her. “You do the honors. Get him good and clean so he don’t stink so much.”

Elizabeth’s fear quickly returned, unsure just how far the men would go. She stepped back over to the sill and picked up the cup she used to pour water over herself when she used the same tub. She returned to Wilson’s side, got on her knees, and said quietly, “Lean up.”

He sat upright and Elizabeth filled the cup with water from behind him. She couldn’t help but notice the growing thickness of his cock, dreading the inevitable cleaning of his legs. She poured the water over his shoulders and back and began to rub the harsh soap over his leathery skin.

Elizabeth was swift in her duties, rinsing him clean and moving to his arms. Wilson leaned back and reveled in the treatment he was receiving. She washed his hairless chest, stopping well short of his waist, which was barely under water. But now the cock was longer, with purple veins appearing along the sides. Wilson saw her looking, and it made him even harder.

She moved to his legs, which he needed to bend to fit in the tub. Elizabeth rubbed halfway up his thighs. Then she rinsed him off.

“You missed some,” Sam said when it looked as if Elizabeth was about to stand. “You know what I mean. Now get it all. Use your hands.”

The grin on Wilson’s face was quite the contrast to Elizabeth’s grimace. But the sooner she was done, the sooner they’d leave. So she covered her hands in soap and reached down. She slid her palms over the area above his cock first, then moved closer to his balls. Wilson raised his body slightly out of the water at the same time.

“Everything,” Sam ordered.

Elizabeth’s hands were nearly soap-free now, but she took his cock in one hand and stroked him from bottom to top. She instantly felt him harden nearly to a full erection.

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