Mrs. Constance W...'s Letters 18

118 King William Road
R..., Virginia
Thursday
May 14th, 1863

Dr. Ian K...
82 Piedmont Avenue NE
A..., Georgia

Dear Doctor,

I am settled in here in R... The travel was relatively uneventful though rumors abound about sabotage to the rails I and about Virginia. In the future I will travel by carriage rather than risk a tragic derailment. Constance has nearly regained her former composure for which I thank God for Simone's steadying influence. She is guiding the ladies of the Crimson Doll with a steady hand and she demonstrates acute business acumen. The gaming tables turn nearly as much margin as the upstairs rooms.

Constance departed for Washington at the first of the week and I find that with Simone's expertise I need only pay passing attention to that establishment. I am left with ample time to organize more dignified service for the men through the Sisters charity and have identified several charming young ladies of substance eager to lend a hand. It remains to secure a suitable location for our ministry which I expect to do shorty. In the mean time I have charged my recruits with joining me as noble volunteers at the nearby hospital.

Unlike A... the fighting is fierce her in northern Virginia making for no shortage of casualties. The space is inadequate to the need and men fail for lack of sane and sanitary facilities. The tragedy of the battlefield is compounded by the defeat experienced in post-operative recovery. It is nearly more than a heart can bear. I tremble remembering those poor maimed souls suffering so. Even I, accustomed as I am to the wounds of war, was overcome physically the first night.

But I will not be deterred. These boys have given more than can be counted. I will not fail them. I have purposed to bring to them what grace is given to me by soothing their agonies with sweet compassion and a cheerful countenance. And in that I purpose plan to gradually indoctrinate my companions in mercy through gradual exposure to the horror and much sisterly encouragement.

No doubt you will be pleased to know that I tasted my first martial offering that second visit to the infirmary. He is a brave corporal of Longstreet's First Corps under Gen. Anderson wounded at Chancellorsville. I could tell the lad was of a mighty constitution the moment I laid my hand to his flesh. He grew strong under my gentle touch. We smiled at each other as I spoke words of reassurance softly for his ears alone. He took my meaning and clamped his lips tight lest he by some provoked utterance give away our private interlude.

Thick and long his manhood stiffened at my caress under the concealing coverlet. Expertly I pulled back his foreskin where I could gently stoke at his glans as you showed me how. All unseen and unaware to his nearby comrades we communed. Flexes of his tumescence presaged his pending eruption. I hastily sought some method to contain his seed lest he soil his bed m linen. Finding nothing suitable nearby I slid my other hand to the tip and made a cup in which to catch his emissions. With strong pulses he shot into my hand repeatedly his warm seed.

Now I was at a loss. Both hands under his sheet, one stroking the last drops from his softening penis; patients on either side and nurses and orderlies hustling to and fro had me in a compromising position. Inspiration struck and I leaned forward to whisper sweet words of comfort to his ears alone as cover whereupon I withdrew my filled palm and lifted the pearly fluid to my lips and drank his offering before his eyes. I licked every drop from my fingers, kissed him on the cheek and rose to depart. His salty offering became a sweet libation on my lips.

I pray that I make you proud by my service with the skills and knowledge you trained into me. One of the surgeons took note of my medical expertise and inquiring discovered that I am the wife of one of his former interns. Dr. S... sends his greeting and congratulations. He requested that I volunteer on his shifts knowing that you will have prepared me well for service. I am eager to begin with him.

He is a dear old man. In his office we relaxed as he told me about why you always start surgery on your tip toes. I think it deliciously sordid. Afterward he asked to see my shoes. I obediently lifted my hem to reveal the heeled boots I customarily wear in hospice. He tsked like a kindly grandfather and muttered, "That won't do, won't do at all."

When I next arrived he drew me into his office where in private he scandalously ordered me to remove my footwear. I was shocked at the presumption, but knowing how highly you value my obedience I complied with only modest hesitation. I presume you will wish to chastise me for my delay and am prepared to submit upon our restoration.

Back to Dr. S..., he knelt at my feet after providing a chair for me where he unlaced both boots completely. The laces were set aside for a later time he said. Then he got down on his knees and inhaled deeply with his nose no more than a hairs breadth from my toes. His odd behavior unsettled me though his kindly manner made all this seem eerily right. Next, he drew forth a low shoe that exposed the toes with an intricate clasp secured around the ankle with a lock and key. I was told they were of his own design expressly for surgery.

Now each time I arrive we retreat to his office where he switches my shoes. And at the end of each visit we do likewise. At each step in the process he inhales deeply of the scent from my feet and from the shoes. The whole ritual takes no more than five minutes after which I find myself unaccountably flush and tingly. Still, I like him.

Ever Your Obedient Servant,

Annabelle