A Yank in the Outhouse

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"I was just delivering a bottle of wine for the Vicar." I answered quickly, my stomach feeling as if the wind had just been knocked out of it. Mrs Harrington snorted in disbelief, her eyes sharp and bright.

"It's true -- the bottle is in the saddlebag of my bike outside. But when I got here I heard some noise from inside the wash house and I just wondered, well, what was going on. . ."

"So you decided to spy on us and now you're going to go back to the village with a lot of gossip which everybody in the county will hear about in a day or two -- or at least you think that's what you're going to do."

"I won't tell anybody anything." I told her, trying to damp down her rising anger.

"No you won't, not if you know what's good for you. Reuben is a Major in the American military police and very rich as well, so you'd better not say anything or you'll be in real trouble."

"Gals, gals, quieten down will you, I'm getting a head ache," the Yank rumbled. "This is no problem. There's twenty pounds in the jeep that I'll give to Sarah here in return for keeping quiet about our little get together.'

Twenty pounds -- it was a fortune, as much as a skilled man could earn in a month. "And seeing as how she's here and paid for, I guess she may as well join in the fun as well. It sure would be a waste of a good Sunday school teacher otherwise, for Jacob can see there is corn in Egypt."

I was almost as startled by the quotation from the old testament as I was by his implied threat of what he was going to make me do.

"Now you needn't look so surprised, honey. We've got bibles back home as well and my folks were kinda strict about bringing me up on it. Anyway, I guess we need to make a sinner out of you so there'll be no temptation for you to go throwing any stones. Now if only I'd have known that I was going to have to lead a pretty young lady like you into temptation this afternoon, why I guess I'd have preserved my strength a little instead of sinning straight off with Harriet." He spread his arms out to encompass all three of us, then reached down and stroked his groin underneath the towel, still looking around and leering. "The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few."

Next his eyes turned directly towards me: "Never mind, Sarah, ye shall eat of the fat of the land."

It took me a moment or two to understand what he meant and why the women were laughing at me. Imaging myself sprawled over the top of a man's naked body with my mouth full of him was as inconceivable as doing it with two other women watching me. Yet there was a kind of poetic justice about it that I knew would appeal to Susan and Harriet. I felt like I did whenever I'd fallen off my bicycle -- with no time to think about anything except how hard the ground was going to feel when I finally hit it.

"How long do you think she was watching us?" Harriet said.

"Long enough to know exactly what's going to happen to her now," Susan snapped.

The other two each seemed to find the idea amusing. Reuben put his arms around the women, each of his hands cupping one of their breasts.

"Well, Sarah, you sure do seem a mite overdressed for the occasion. Maybe we can do something about that," he drawled. His cigarette was hanging from the corner of his mouth, an eyelid screwed up against the smoke. I'd never seen a man so self assured. He dropped his hands and slapped both of the women on their bottoms. "Fix her up, gals. I've got to make a call on the radio and find out how things are going back at HQ."

He got off the table, tied the towel around his waist, slipped his feet into a pair of unlaced shoes. "Have her ready for me when I come back." He left the wash house, apparently unconcerned by the cold wind blowing outside. The gun was still in his hand, as though he was determined never to be parted from it. I wondered why.

As Susan and Harriet moved towards me I reached round to the handle to try to release myself but my skirt was bunched up in the rollers too tightly for me to be able to turn it from that difficult angle. And anyway, it was two against one, two who would have grabbed my arm before I could have turned the wheel even once. There was no way out.

Harriet Harrington stood and watched me, her arms crossed, the same cold smile on her face; her companion touched her elbow and whispered in her ear. Whatever she said seemed to suit Harriet.

"Well, Miss School Teacher, you might have thought that you've had an interesting afternoon so far, but it's soon going to get a lot more interesting. Now for starters, it must be getting awfully hot in here underneath that sweater you've got on."

Of course it was. In a situation like this I would have been hot and bothered enough anyway, let alone in a hot steamy room with a sweater on. My skin was pricking underneath it and drops of sweat were rolling down my face.

"So why don't you let us take it off you?"

I shook my head.

"Suit yourself," Harriet said briskly. "It's just as easy for me to get Reuben to do it. He'd enjoy that, but you won't. Especially when he gives you a spanking for being a stubborn little bitch. He's got a swagger stick that he's used on me once and I've never dared to argue with him since. But you're going to be stripped off in here, that's for certain. Your only choice is whether you want to be given a civilized shagging afterwards, or just plain raped. Whatever happens, Susan and I will be holding you down for Reuben if we have to, understand that. We need to make sure you won't talk and having you thoroughly fucked is our only guarantee of that. So is it going to be done easy or hard? And if it's to be made easy for you you'd better put your arms up without any further delay."

I didn't know what to do. Until Mrs Walsh showed me the long hat pin in her hand, then pressed the point of it through the wool of my sweater, through the fabric of my bra and into my left breast. It made me cry out with pain.

"Better make your mind up, Sarah -- quickly." She wasn't pretending

Once more in the same day I held my arms up over my head in surrender. Harriet and Susan put their hands underneath the sweater my mother had knitted for me and raised it up and up, over my bra cups and over my shoulders, over my face, my hair, along my arms, and then it was hanging from her hands and I was wearing nothing but my bra above the waist. Susan nudged the left cup with her palm, her face close to mine.

"We'll have that off you, and then you can do a performance for us to watch."

I could see the smudged mascara on her eyebrows, smell the tobacco on her breath. It was a different sort of tobacco smell to anything I'd ever smelt before, sweeter. My heart was was bouncing around in my chest like a canary frantic to get out of its cage. Susan asked me questions.

"I bet you've never done it before have you? Or did that Charlie Moore manage to get his wicked way with you before he finally got called up for the navy?"

I was surprised she knew about Charlie and me. Everybody else in the village probably knew we'd begun courting but I didn't think anybody in Mill Cottage would have cared.

"No, we didn't do anything," I protested.

Harriet touched me as well, stroking my cheek with the back of her fingers: "In that case I'll bet twenty to one that Charlie boy is going to get a lovely surprise on his next leave. By then you'll be grabbing hold of any cock you can get and riding point to point on them all like a good 'un. You're as sexy a girl as I've ever seen, Sarah, and your days as a Sunday School teacher are definitively over."

"No -- no," I protested, in vain. Susan unhooked the back of my bra and both of them took it off me. Both pairs of hands had long unchipped fingernails and soft skin which had never done any work. Harriet stood back and eyed me.

"Well, Sarah, you're a well developed young lady. If nobody has been getting his hands on those it's been a sad waste."

I tried to cover myself up with my hands, and that just made them laugh at me even more. Harriet said: "OK, let's take off her Maginot Line now."

"My what?"

"Your briefs," Susan explained. "Your last line of defense."

"Oh God!"

It only took a second or two, both of them kneeling down on either side of me and plucking the briefs down.

"Be careful, please. Don't break the elastic."

Maybe it was a silly thing to say under the circumstances, but maybe it wasn't. Elastic was another clothing item which was hard to come by in wartime shops.

Anyway, they were reasonably careful, not wrenching them off me and helping me to step out of them. Harriet stood up, threw my briefs casually across the back of a chair and looked carefully at me again. Susan had picked up a cigarette from somewhere and swallowed a stream of smoke before passing it over to Harriet.

"Another turn of the handle?"

"Oh yes, I think so. Just to set the scene off nicely."

Susan caught hold of the mangle's handle and turned it again, pulling me yet closer to the rollers and the bottom of the skirt up higher until it was right up around the top of my legs and I was literally within a hair's breath of indecent exposure. One futile attempt trying to pull back some of the trapped cloth was enough to prove I was wasting my time. Susan giggled and patted the handle.

"One more turn, Sarah, one more turn of this and you'll be putting on a turn of your own. A strip show act with everything on show."

"What are you doing this for?" I asked. "Why are you doing everything that man wants you too?"

Harriet nodded her head, as if appreciating the question.

"It's suddenly become a whole new world, Sarah. A whole new country anyway. You know how it's always been in England, the aristocracy and the landowners have always had the real power -- and if you weren't born and bred in their own little circles you were always a second rater, no matter how hard you worked or how good you were. But now we're suddenly getting thousands of these American servicemen flooding in and you just can't believe how rich they are. Rich as a nation, rich as individuals, many of them. Not broad acres and rent book rich but cash rich. They've got bundles of money burning holes in their pockets because they know they're going to be in the fighting and maybe getting killed. All they want are good times and to hell with what it costs. So if you've ever wanted to make your pile while you're young, this is your chance. We'd be delighted to have you join us."

"Join you?"

"Sure, believe me, there's plenty for all and thanks to Reuben we're just starting to get organised in a big way. He wants to bring some of his friends along here for a party -- I think you'd be just right to come as the second story maid. I can even get you a specially low cut costume to wear."

She was laughing at me with her eyes but she was serious too. "Listen, Sarah, if you come to one of Reuben's parties dressed in the right way and carrying a collection plate you could end up buying your own house in that mouldy old village. You've got a lovely smile -- it could be a smile that sets you up for smiling yourself for the rest of your life."

That struck a chord. My family, like many others, lived in a tied cottage -- a cottage that belonged to the farm my dad worked for. If he lost his job he lost his home as well, a situation that always gave the farmers the whip hand when dealing with troublesome workers. Nobody could ever call my father a troublesome worker but it had always a sore point with me. Basically, tithed workers were no better off than Negro cotton pickers living in plantation cabins in the days of slavery. The prospect of being able to buy a way out of that trap was enough to get my undivided attention. Or at least it would have been at almost any other time -- only Reuben walked back in just then.

As a natural reaction I covered my nipples up with my hands, something he hardly seemed to notice. A white belt was slung over one of his massive shoulders and around his chest like a bandoleer, a holster hanging off it and the butt of the pistol sticking out of the top of the holster. It was just like the cinema again, like one of the Mexican bandits you saw in the cowboy films. I felt like Dorothy in reverse -- I'd somehow clicked my heels and ended up in Kansas. If there were Mexican bandits in Kansas.

"Goddamn those stupid bastards I have working for me!" Reuben's smile had faded into a look of anger which frightened me. He seemed to realise that and to reassure me.

"Sorry, Sarah, I didn't mean to bother you. I've been checking on things in London and I guess I've got a problem."

"What's wrong?" Susan asked him with concern in her voice.

"Two of my sergeants were doing street familiarization with a London bobby. They'd parked up near Claridge's while the limey cop went for one of his usual limey tea breaks. So my two guys were sitting in their jeep and there's a maroon Rolls-Royce parked outside the hotel across the road with an ATS officer inside it. Very young, not bad looking apparently. So she gets out of the Rolls and walks over to the jeep and asks my two half wits how they like England. OK, one half wit then, because one of the guys is very polite and says he likes it a lot. But sergeant Hermann Zeitler, he tells this female limey officer they should cut the cables on the barrage balloons and let the whole goddamned island sink into the sea. So she gives him a real long hard look and goes back to the Rolls. Just then the cop comes back and asks them if they knew who they'd been talking to."

"Some Duchess?" Susan guessed.

"Some Duchess! That fuckwit Zeitler, he's only gone and told off Princess Elizabeth of England!

If she complains the shit is really going to hit the fan. It wouldn't be such a big deal if Eisenhower was still around but now he's in North Africa and the senior American officer left in London is General John H. Lee. That strutting turkey will just love it if the US Ambassador to the Court of Saint James turns up in his office complaining that Major Reuben Steele's military police company have been insulting the British royal family."

"It's OK," Harriet said. "I bet the Princess won't say anything about it. She'll be like the rest of us, too glad to see you people here to help us to worry about a small thing like that. My advice would be to write to her, apologise, and say that your man only answered the way he did because he was feeling homesick. And maybe send her a gift of some kind as well."

"What the hell sort of present do you give a Princess?"

"Nothing for her, perhaps, but if she's in the army you could donate something to her unit. A film projector and some of the latest Hollywood films -- musicals would be good. Anything at all except war films -- we're all fed up with the war over here."

"Good thinking, Harriet. I'll do just that. As for Sergeant Zeitler, I've got an ideal transfer arranged for him. If he doesn't like this island we'll send him to one where he'll have real trouble finding any princesses to mouth off at."

"Where's that then, Reuben?"

"A nice little tropical resort in the South Pacific called Guadalcanal. I've a feeling that Zeitler won't be there too long before he's wishing like hell he was back pulling duty outside Claridge's."

"Never mind, we'll take your mind off your worries," Susan said brightly. "Won't we, Sarah?"

"What do you mean?" I asked her and she smiled.

"I think we can lift that skirt just a teensy weensy touch more, can't we, Susan?"

Susan put her hands on the handle and began singing like a seaman pulling on a rope as she turned the wheel: "Hey, hey and a up she rises, early in the morning".

Harriet's hand dropped to the front of Reuben's towel and stroked his swelling pizzle. "I think we might have something here that's rising as well."

The Yank grinned and plucked the towel from his waist. His cock twitched as Harriet touched it, like the head of a sleeping python being roused. The length of flesh seemed almost independent of Reuben somehow -- he and Harriet were both looking down at it as if neither of them were quite sure of what it was going to do next. Then he carefully folded the towel in a long strip and gave me a smile which seemed to be growing like his appendage.

"Sarah, I guess you've heard about Sir Walter Raleigh spreading his cloak in front of Queen Elizabeth. Now you're going to have a man spread a towel for you. No need to get frightened, I'm not going to hurt you any."

I was so nervous I didn't know whether to scream or not as he laid the towel on the brick floor in front of my feet. I was puzzled as well, not knowing what he meant to do, even more so when he knelt down on the towel, his face only a few inches from the hem of my skirt. He swirled one of his fingers around as a signal to Sarah and she turned the handle as far as she could. I was pinned right gack against the mangle, up on the tips of my toes, with my own small patch of brown hair openly exposed and Reuben's breath stirring them. I saw his tongue dart forward and press against the junction at the top of my legs. The wriggling length of hot skin went further underneath me as he tilted his head back, his eyes staring at my face as he lapped against most private places like a cow feeding off a salt lick. Both of the other women were watching me as though I was was some kind of a laboratory experiment, some kind of Frankenstein about to come to life.

Not that that was far from the truth, and it was Reuben who was whipping up the storm where the electricity was coming from.

I found myself wailing out his name as my clitoris began to swell like a spring bud. There was no way I could stop myself twitching and gasping in response, my bare bum rubbing up against the iron frame of the mangle. Looking down at the American's smiling eyes I knew I was seeing the man who was going to be my first lover, the one who was going to change me from a girl into a woman. My hands came down and rubbed his bristly scalp in encouragement as I literally melted on top of Reuben's face, my cunt as damp as the tongue rubbing against it. Henrietta and Susan grabbed at my exposed nipples, tweaking and plucking both of them with crazy smiles on their faces. It was just as crazy that they reminded me most of a film scene of the Marx brothers trying to tune a harp.

My head went back and I stared up wide eyed into the roof rafters, letting out a shriek which echoed amongst them. Although it must have been my imagination I thought I saw the clouds of steam underneath the tiles quivering as the echoes of my voice bounced around the wash house.

Harriet's face was close to mine, watching with amusement and interest: "How do you feel now, Miss Sunday School Teacher?"

I groaned. "Like a Guy Fawkes dummy on top of a burning bonfire!"

"Then it must be about time for the fireworks to start."

She began nibbling on one of my ears and then Susan did the same from the other side, just as Reuben's huge hands clasped my bottom. One of his fingers jabbed straight up between both of my buttocks and I wailed out again. Reuben leaned back, his hands still holding me in a crushing embrace.

"Noisy little bitch, isn't she? I wonder if she'll be able to keep it up when I introduce her to the rest of the guys."

"You think she'll be able to stand the strain?" Susan answered in a jokey kind of voice,

He stood up and casually waggled the huge up roll of swollen skin curving up in front of his loins. "I guess we'll have to give her a stretch test to find out. Roll a sheath on for me, ladies."

They couldn't get down on their knees fast enough, as if they were worshipping his maleness, working hand over hand to stretch the sheath over the length of a cock that seemed more the right size for a bull than a man. I'd never been near so frightened of anything in my life -- being shagged for the first time was bad enough, being shagged for the first time in front of an audience was worse, but being shagged by a tool like that! I was going to die in agony impaled on an organ which was never meant to be used on a human woman . . .