OPEN - The Sacking of Castle Dresslier By The Maudit Anglais

The countess moved around the lower tower trying to do what she could to help the wounded soldiers. She was a striking figure of a woman, dressed in her fine clothes, a long flowing dress of pink and white, with lace and trim. Her large breasts, and thin waist were well displayed. Her beautiful fair skin, was tanned and she looked more like a local peasant given her tremendous exposure to the hot sun in the past months. Her big blue eyes looked sad though she hid her feelings. She exuded a presence to the men, and knew many of the men would prey upon her - if they ever had a chance.

Per her husband's orders, she wore her long blond hair up in a traditional fashion and wore her best diamond earrings and a diamond studded tiara. Regally she walked about trying to rally her husband's men. It was a lost effort. The men were now waiting for hand to hand combat with swords and bayonets. A few officers had small hand pistols to use and her husband had provided her with a small pistol and had warned her use it on herself when the time came.

Though the castle had stood hundred of years and had protected generations of French from the "maudit Anglais" the red coats had sieged the castle for months and had now brought up some new giant sized cannon. The defenders were nervous and scared. The giant cannon had fired twice so far. Each time it was deafening. The first shot fired high and missed the castle completely - but the ball had exploded in the nearby town and with one shot had destroyed the local church. The second shot hit low - but blew a giant hole before a castle wall. They all expected the third shot to hit something.

She knew the English redcoats were angry and full of hate. When they broke through the walls or the main gate, whomever was left would be massacred. The handful of women left in the castle would be raped and then bayoneted. They all knew the English were pigs. For months the red coats had gathered their dead on a daily basis at the foot of the castle. The castle had been a killing machine with its smaller cannons, siege engines, archers, and rifleman. The English wanted revenge - in blood. The previous night a score of French soldiers had deserted and snuck over the castle walls. The mood in the castle was dark.

The countess thought back to how it happened.

Angelique du Lavalier, Countess of Dresslier, had been a young bride, at age 16. It had been an arranged marriage to the much older count. It had been simple, in that he had a title and family honor, whereas, she had a large dowry and future inheritance. He was handsome and worldly but lacking an heir, and she was beautiful and fertile. It was three years later, and she had fulfilled her role and provided her husband two daughters.

The sound of the over sized cannon thundered and a huge explosion crumbled the main gate. She didn't yet know that the main gate had been destroyed. But the shrill of death and the pounding that rippled on the ground told her that soon the English would rush the castle in a final and decisive action.

The countess could hear the wounded men cursing and calling out for help. There was little she could now do as they was little left in the castle for the food, drink, gun powder, arrows, and medical supplies were near exhausted. Earlier in the day, their own small cannons had gone silent.

"I will find out news at the front of the castle" the countess explained as she left the wounded men in the company of two female servants. Angelique wanted to flee the castle herself. She had debated dressing as a servant girl and slipping over the back wall - but knew the risk was too great and in the evening daylight she'd likely be discovered.

With quick hurried steps, the countess hurried up many stairs to a tower. Opening the small shutters, she gasped as she saw the sight below. The huge English cannon fired again and before her very eyes, a large hole in the inner wall was blow apart. Bodies of men, and chunks of rock and mortar flew everywhere. The English were moving forward faster and faster. There was no reply from the French cannons or muskets.

Counting their own soldiers, she quickly assessed they had a few hundred seasoned French soldiers versus a thousand or more assaulting redcoats. Their calvary had charged through the broken main gate an were now in the outer court and heading to the hole in the inner wall.

"It is over..." the countess spoke aloud.

Do I kill myself.... Flee... or face the consequences and plead for my life Angelique thought.

Watching from the tower, the countess watched as the French soldiers bravely fought hand to hand with the on coming invaders. The English were orderly, while they fired, reloaded and fire again into the ranks of the defenders. After several several such volleys, the French were fleeing from their positions. The English yelled out their war cries and now with swords and bayonets drawn entered into hand to hand fighting.

"My God.... They will kill them all...." the countess spoke. She saw several smaller groups of English redcoats had secretly scaled or otherwise snuck into other others of the castle....

It is too late... Angelique realized.


OCC - Open thread.... Looking for someone to command the English invaders.... the poor countess is awaiting her fate

OOC: If you'll have me, I'd like to volunteer for the role of storming the castle.

Major Andrew Bishop observed the carnage that unfolded beneath him with equal parts pride and anticipation. He had been only promoted to his new rank recently and the storming of Chateau Desslier had been his first major strategic initiative. Convincing the Generals to devote this many resources to such a task had been difficult in it's own right. The major movement had been planned further south and Desslier was seen to be an unnecessary diversion from the task at hand.

But, Bishop thought to himself as he heard another volley of cannon fire crash into the once imposing outer walls, that was because the Generals knew little to nothing of the lands they were looking to conquer. They simply saw soft targets, easy territory and the ability to present taking a few poorly defended farms as a major military victory.

But Andrew Bishop, who had spent his days at Cambridge doing something besides drinking and whoring, knew of Chateau Desslier. He knew what it represented. No fewer than 5 separate times in previous conflicts it had been tried. Each time the strong, high walls repelled their forces. French soldiers knew it as a symbol of French power, of French superiority. Using the new guns to punch holes in Chateau Desslier would shake more than just the ground under their feet, it would shake the very soul of France. He had managed to convince a sympathetic General to devote enough men and equipment to the task and now, here he stood, on a hill overlooking a buckling symbol of French might. It had been a long and trying effort. One with many setbacks and hardships but here he stood, on the precipice of victory

Another volley of cannonfire crashed into the main gate and Major Bishop saw the sight he'd planned on for nearly three months for. The main gate was broken, shattered.

"Lef******t Astbury" Bishop shouted to his aide-de-camp who promptly rode beside him.

"Sir?"

"Tell the men to fire one more volley at the inner wall. Then have Captain Brent meet me at the rendezvous point."

"Sir, is that wise, there may still be French..."

"You were there with me when we broke that slimey bastard" Bishop referred to one of them men they'd apprehended attempting to flee the castle the night before. "They are worn down. Nothing but old men, children left."

His subordinate nodded dutifully.

"Besides, I'm not so long a major that I've forgotten the call of actual war" Bishop said with a dutiful gaze.

"For King and Country, sir"

"For King and Country" Bishop nodded as he rode down to meet up with his cavalry.

King and Country my arse Bishop couldn't help but thinking as he approached where what was left of his cavalry. He looked up at Chateau Desslier and smiled.

Andrew Bishop had been born to minor land holding nobles in southern Scotland. Despite the privileged lifestyle he was born to and lived, he was never a content child. He was the third son and knew from a very early age that there would be no land or title awaiting him upon the passing of his father. Andrew would have to marry well or serve in the military if he was to become a man of wealth and importance. Upon seeing the utter fools his brothers would make of themselves in order to attract some slightly important girl who more resembled a sow than a desirable wife, Andrew knew he would fight for his King.

But the rewards of military service, he would discover, were not quite as he had hoped. Rising through the ranks had been difficult, he had spent nearly 20 years as a Captain, and had seen men who had been commissioned well after him rise to Colonel and even General ahead of him. Now, he was squarely in his mid 40's and tiring of the soldier's life. He had looked in the mirror a few years past and been disheartened by what he saw. He was still a large and imposing man but there were creases on his face now. He still had the jet black hair he'd always had, but now there were signs of grey at the temples. His eyes looked firm and cold. No, Andrew Bishop had had his fill of the military life.

And therein lay the true reason behind his push to assault Chateau Desslier. There was the strategic importance, yes, but Bishop knew that because it had withstood so many assaults in the past, it had grown a reputation for being a safe place for French nobility to keep their precious items during times of war. On the march to Desslier his men had intercepted one such shipment from a noble in another besieged area. His guards had said that Nobles from all over the country had sent such shipments to the fortress once thought impenetrable. That chest had been seized as the king's rightful prize by a general but Bishop failed to mention the story of more treasure. He would seize the inner castle. He would find France's most treasured items and, with the help of a dozen or so men who he knew were loyal to him, he would spirit it back to England for himself. There would be no quiet life on a Major's pension for Andrew Bishop. There would be lush estates and all the farm girls he could fuck.

"Major, sir" Captain William Brent interrupted Bishop's thoughts. Brent was new to the cavalry, Bishop's replacement, and not one of the men Bishop had entrusted to his little cabal "I am about to lead the men"

"No, Captain, I will be leading the men inside. I need you to ride back to General Perry and inform him the Castle is ours. He is to come when he likes."

"Yes sir" The dutiful salute and nod was met with a gallop away. The General was at least two days away which would give Bishop and his men plenty of time to safely hide their prize. Just as Brent had vanished from sight, the inner walls had fallen and Bishop led the charge in the Castle.

The information had been correct. There was little resistance inside the castle. Some small fighting in which the remaining French fought valiantly but hopelessly against the onslaught of the mounted men with rifles. Bishop personally shot two men down and cut the throat of a third that couldn't have been older than 16. In little less than an hour, there was no resistance to speak of.

"Sergeant Coyle" Bishop barked to one of the men who would partake in his scheme "Scour the grounds. Any one who looks of importance, especially of nobility, is to be brought to me immediately"

"Aye Sir" the enlisted man nodded and began ordering two squads to search the tower. Bishop nodded. He would need enlisted men for what was to come.

The countess pulled the pistol from the fold in her long flowing dress. She held the pistol to her head and pulled the trigger. She cringed as she expected the small lead ball to explode through her brain. But there was no sound from the pistol for she had forgotten to cock the hammer. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she assumed the pistol was broken. She had tried to kill herself but now it wasn't her fault. Her sad blue eyes took in the further happenings on the battlefield below.

There was still several pockets of hand to hand fighting. The giant cannon had thundered yet another ball from hell and this time it exploded in the stables. Buildings shattered and wood splinters flew in all directions through the air. She knew that the horses stabled there were no more. She knew her own mount was likely killed. But the fate of her horse was the least of her worries. There was black smoke flowing into the air and the smell of burnt flesh.

More redcoats were now flowing into the courtyards. They were ants invading a summer picnic of sweets. She wondered if reinforcements would arrive in time to save the fort and the hidden treasures. No doubt the English would tear apart the rooms in search of gold and treasure. The soldiers would steal the silverware, paintings, hangings and anything of value. The castle's vault was hidden in the caves below the castle. It would takes them weeks of careful searching to find it. They'd have to blow the locks unless they had someone of sufficient skill to pick it.

The countess expected when news that the castle had been taken by the English, the King would order a re-taking of the castle. Perhaps the treasure could be saved - but she doubted it. She needed to send a message to the Kind to warn him of the giant cannon and the loss of the castle. Quickly she now ran down the stairs of the tower. When she reached the ground level, she scurried back and forth looking for an able bodied soldier to act as messenger. There were few French soldiers left, and those she could see were too busy trying to avoid their own fate, and they ignored her pleas for help.

At that moment, a line of redcoats rounded into the courtyard where she stood. The officer had issued an order and the men like red devils ran in all directions. Two men were now rushing at her and she chose to run back up the tower with quick paces. It was awkward to run in the long dress, whereas the soldiers were quickly gaining on her.

With great haste she secured the wooden bar on the door blocking the pursuit of the redcoats. As she took a few more steps ups the stairs she heard the men cursing and then the sound of an ax smashing into the wooden door.

"Oh God... There is no where to run when I get to the top" Angelique mumbled.

Standing she watched for several seconds and repeated blows of an ax smashed over and over into the door. Gathering her dress she now continued to ascend the stairs to the upper main room. She waited....

"Sir!" an exclaimed expression came from Sergeant Coyle to Major Bishop. Bishop had been supervising the final clean up on the remaining French troops. Anyone who looked important enough to perhaps take information from was to be detained. Anyone else got a quick meeting with a bayonet.

"Coyle? You've found it?" Bishop said with a gleam of anticipation in his eye.

"No, Sir. But someone important. Adorned with jewels and the such. She locked herself in the west Tower and barricaded the door."

"Well, smash it down and bring her to me" Bishop seemed annoyed to have been disturbed with this piece of news. That is, though, until something occurred to him. If this was the Countess he'd heard about then there was quite a good chance that she'd locked herself wherever was most secure, which could very well be wherever the vast wealth he sought was being kept.

"On second thought Coyle, show me where this is. Bring the four men I told you of earlier and we'll search the tower."

Bishop and his assembled group made his way to where the tower door was being smashed in. It took quite a few swings of the axe to break the solid oak door down but, like the heavy walls of the castle itself, the door eventually crumbled and broke. As soon as the door broke, Bishop and his men were through it and racing up the stairs, with Bishop leading the way. He had his sabre drawn, as there was likely to be a detachment guarding the countess or the treasure, and marched slowly but surely up the stairs. The top of the tower was soon reached without incident, the door was flung open and Bishop stepped into the room. His heart sank slightly when he saw that it was merely a well appointed room in French stylings. There was no treasure here.

Bishop's mind had been so focused on the treasure that it took him a moment to realize there was a woman in the room. The woman looked towards him terrified, a tear in her eye. Bishop noticed with a detachment that she was indeed young and beautiful. Blonde hair done in an aristocratic fashion, expensive dress that displayed a curved, womanly figure and very expensive jewelery adorning her. Bishop had heard talk that the Countess Du Desslier put all the whores in Paris shame but he had dismissed it. Now, looking at the woman in the room, he saw they had a point.

"Countess du Desslier, I presume" Bishop said in an inelegant, although understandable French. "I claim your castle and your land in the name of the King of England"

The countess heard the cursing of the English soldiers as they finally bashed through the tower door. There was a short delay which made Angelique very nervous. She readied her pistol at the doorway to the room where she waited. They wouldn't know it didn't work and she hoped it might force them to make a quick volley at her and kill her instantly. Changing her mind she instead hide the pistol in a fold of her long elegant dress.

There was the sound of marching stamping feet and the clanking of metal. The footsteps she heard were quick and angry steps. She guessed there were several men and she knew they were quickly ascending the stairs to the top of the tower. It would soon be over. Looking to the window she could now see that the battle was over. Most of the French soldiers were dead. A few of the officers and other gentry were taken prisoner and would likely be ransomed. A few of the female servants were now being raped in the open - as spoils of war.

"Bastards" the countess hissed as she watched the scene unfolding. She was helpless to intervene. The English soldiers were brutes.

The beautiful countess sucked a deep breath as the English Officer with saber drawn and several of his redcoats armed with rifles at the ready burst into the tower room. To her surprise the officer looked disappointed. The men were silent as they scrambled into the room as they followed their officer. With the air of a true aristocrat she raised the pistol and pointed it at the officer.

The officer spoke in rough French:

"Countess du Desslier, I presume"

"Oui...." she responded in perfect French.

The officer announced in his crude French:

"I claim your castle and your land in the name of the King of England"

With great effort she answered in English as she raised the pistol from a fold in her dress:

"Perhaps... But Monsieur... I claim your life".

The countess was expecting a barrage of shot from the English riflemen but no one moved or fired.

There was a scream of a woman outside the tower and several of the common soldiers grinned like cats as they knew the woman was no doubt being gang raped by their fellow countrymen. The Countess could see a growing erection in the trousers of one of the soldiers as he licked his lips.

"Non..." the Countess whispered softly.

"Non..." the Countess whispered softly.

"Mais oui" Bishop chuckled slightly. The gun she had raised on him didn't even have the hammer pulled back. From the way she held the gun Bishop could tell she didn't have much experience firing one. He had very little concern for his own life.

"See that men?" Bishop turned his head back to his men and laughed in English again. "Our dear noble lady has pulled a weapon on me after I claimed her land rightfully the property of England. We may have to subdue her."

The men laughed behind him.

"Quite right, Major" Came the voice of Sergeant Coyle "Shame to deliver a prisoner of airs all scuffed up but she left us no choice, she did. Tried to kill the lot of us"

"Indeed Sergeant" Bishop took a quick step forward and swung his free hand violently towards the pistol, knocking it from the Countess' trembling hand. "She has put us in a position where we could do nothing but."

Bishop's cold hard eyes stared directly into the large blue eyes of the Countess, full of fear and hate. He brought his sabre up to her throat and pressed the sharp metal up against her delicate, aristocratic neck gently.

"Do not think for a second, Countess" Bishop again spoke his unrefined French as he addressed her with contempt and impatience "That your birth or your wealth will save you from the fate of all of the able bodied women here. You have one chance, and one chance alone, to avoid dishonor and death. Either you tell me where the wealth of Desslier is kept or you will suffer so greatly at my hands that you will weep for death"

"Non..." the Countess whispered softly.

The English officer chuckled as he spoke in his rough French:

"Mais oui"

Angelique knew something was very wrong. She had expected some measure of bravery from the officer but he seemed completely unconcerned as if he knew the pistol was broken. He had a certain look of overconfidence.

Oh no... something is wrong... they are moving closer... there are too many the Countess worried.

The officer spoke smugly as he spoke:

"See that men?.... Our dear noble lady has pulled a weapon on me after I claimed her land rightfully the property of England. We may have to subdue her."

The Countess didn't speak, she knew they were looking forward to the opportunity to attack her. From the rough look of the men she knew they wanted to rape her like the others. It would be a rough experience. The officer clearly was not of gentle birth and she half expected him to be first to attack her.

As the officer and the men laugh, unknown to them, she pulled the trigger to the pistol. Nothing happened but the English moved closed and closer.

One of the ruffian English soldiers replied:

"Quite right, Major ... Shame to deliver a prisoner of airs all scuffed up but she left us no choice, she did. Tried to kill the lot of us."

The Countess looked to the window which was now midway between her and the English. She was mentally preparing to jump from the window.

It's over... The King won't be able to send reinforcements in time.... The pistol is useless.... My husband is likely dead.... I am alone... I can die bravely Angelique mentally decided.

She only half heard the English Officer as he spoke:

"Indeed Sergeant... She has put us in a position where we could do nothing but."

With only a half step toward the open window, the officer had stopped her, as he swung hard at the hand with the pistol which forced it from her hand and it skidded across the hard stone floor to the opposite corner of the room.

"Non..." the Countess screamed out in outrage.

In a quick second movement the officer drew his saber and now held it pointed at her soft throat.

Delicately she stayed in place. She knew a small thrust of the sword would end her life. Suddenly she didn't feel so brave.

The officer spoke:

"Do not think for a second, Countess ... That your birth or your wealth will save you from the fate of all of the able bodied women here. You have one chance, and one chance alone, to avoid dishonor and death. Either you tell me where the wealth of Desslier is kept or you will suffer so greatly at my hands that you will weep for death"

The countess held her tongue as she pondered the situation. Loyalty to France told her not to share the location of the hidden castle's vault. She knew her husband would never betray the secret. So many men had died protecting the castle, and it would be a betrayal to them all.

With her big blue eyes, the Countess batted her eyes, and then spoke softly in her perfect French:

"Monsieur... I am your prisoner.... There is no treasure in the castle.... Anything of value had been moved prior to your siege..... ".

The Countess knew it was going to get very rough. One of the men, hidden behind the the officer was now rubbing the growing bulge in his pants.

OOC - I would like to join in

Lieutenant Austen stood behind Major Bishop stroking the growing bulge in his pants. He had spied his prize today, the Countess would more than make up for his weeks of suffering. Weeks of trekking through this godforsaken land, weeks of bloodshed...much of it his own. And yet all he had to show for it were a few deep scars, a demotion, cold feet and a broken sword. His fathers sword no less, damn these French bastards.

Ah yes, the demotion. That would go down well with dear old papa. Austen has been caught in a compromising postion with a young recruit. But what else was he to do? He hadn't had a woman in days, and as he has always said: "An arse is an arse!"

But now his eyes were devouring the ravishing countess, she will more than make up for it. He had a thirst, and she would quench it. Of course there was that French peasant girl he had raped this morning, but she was a mere distraction. Austen was a connoisseur, he enjoyed the finer things in life, and damn it, this little French aristocrat was just what he deserved.

As he fingered his growing cock through his tight trousers he remarked to himself; "Austen old boy, the adventure starts here..."

"Monsieur... I am your prisoner.... There is no treasure in the castle.... Anything of value had been moved prior to your siege..... ".

Bishop sighed. He knew this was a lie. The girl knew it was a lie. It wasn't even delivered with a great deal of conviction. Bishop stepped toward the girl and gave her a fierce slap with the back of his hand. The blow knocked the pretty French aristocrat to her knees with a cry of pain. Bishop reached down and grabbed a fistful of the Countess' blonde hair, jerking her head up towards him.

"Were I you, Countess" Bishop now ignored any pretext of civility, his words now in a harsh, schooled English "I would have wasted my one chance on something slightly more convincing. We know there's a vault somewhere in the castle, we know it is full. Whether you want to or not, you will tell us where it is"

"M'sieur, please." Were the words out of the French girls mouth. Bishop felt a tinge of guilt. Here was this girl, young enough to be his daughter, and he was planning the most foul of fates for her. The tinge of guilt was replaced by dry rage as he thought of all the things in life she would have had handed to her, all the men he saw die trying to take the castle.

Bishop dragged the Countess across the room by her hair, the shrieks of pain coming from her not slowing him a second. He roughly bent the girl over one of the tables in the room. One of Bishop's hands held the struggling girl in place and the other lifted her dress above her waist.

"What do you say boys?" Bishop turned and joked to his men "Think a cock up this trollop's arse will have her singing?"

The Countess knew that there was no chance to jump from the tower's window. The point of the major's sword and the way his men now moved about the room made that unthinkable. She was tempted to push her throat to his sword but now wondered if the major would actually kill her. She sensed that his men had other motives and they would love the chance to have her alone.

Though she announced herself a prisoner and assured the major there was no treasures in the castle, the look on the major's face told her that he was not so easily convinced.

"Ouchhh!" the countess screamed out in outrage for the major had lowered his sword and instead given her a fierce slap with the back of his hand. Her face stung from the blow. Never in her life had she been so treated. It was outrageous! Feeling light headed from the blow, Angelique sank towards the hard stone floor, but the major forced her head upwards as he viciously grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair.

"Ouchccccc!" the countess screamed out as her hair was jerked. It now came lose, and it flowed down her shoulders to almost her waist. Her honey blonde hair was long, shiny and beautiful. A large handful of her pretty hair lay strangely wrapped in the fist of the major.

"You beast.... How dare you strike a lady!" the Countess berated the major as best she could.l

The major ignored her protests as he harshly spoke in a threatening tone:

"Were I you, Countess ... I would not have wasted my one chance on something slightly more convincing. We know there's a vault somewhere in the castle, we know it is full. Whether you want to or not, you will tell us where it is"

"M'sieur, please.... You are mistaken.... If the castle were full of treasure there would have been more soldiers don't you think... The king himself would be here with his personal guard or he would have sent reinforcements... Really... " the Countess tried to out think her English opponent.

The countess sensed the anger in the major. From behind him she could see a lieutenant lewdly touching his growing bulge and eying her as if she was some harlot he was soon to use. It was intimidating and she wanted to give in. But in her mind she knew that whether she betrayer her country and told them the castle's secret her fate would still be at risk.

"Non... non!" the Countess screamed as the major roughly dragged her across the room towards a large table where maps of the local country side and the castle walls, were still spread out along with candles and markers. She shrieked at the rough treatment and she was sure he'd end up pulling out a huge handful of her hair. As he dragged her, she felt a rip in one of her garments, and she feared how this would end.

Bishop dragged the Countess across the room by her hair, the shrieks of pain coming from her not slowing him a second.

"Non... Please no... You are making a mistake" the Countess screamed out as the major roughly bent the girl over the large map table. She protested and struggled but the major easily lifted her dress above her waist exposing her corset, garter belt and stockings.

Her face was red in humiliation. There was a powerful hand holding her face into the hard wood table and her rear end was exposed to the English soldiers. Despite her efforts she was helpless to pull down the dress though she never gave up as she squirmed to try to get up and free. She was simply too small, too light, and no match to the major.

Though she couldn't see the major's face, she felt as if he slapped her when he announced in a comical manner:

"What do you say boys?"... Think a cock up this trollop's arse will have her singing?"

"You wouldn't dare!" the Countess hissed as she sensed the English soldiers moving behind her to inspect her rear end. She now realized the man who continually pet his growing bulge was in fact an English lieutenant.

"Bastards!" she hissed at them. At that moment one of the common English soldiers took the liberty to pull her arms forward with one hand as he ripped down the front of her dress. Forty small delicate buttons flew in all directions. His hard thrust had even ripped the seams to her corset and in consequence her large breasts escaped onto the table. The soldiers eyes beamed in heavenly appreciation as her big nipples were visible and her huge tits swayed back and forth as she continued to struggle.

"Look at the tits on this one.... " he grunted in his thick accented English.

"You could fuck tits like that... " another soldier agreed as he took the liberty to ram the countess' head into the table to soften up her resistance.

"Non... non!" the Countess continued to hiss.

Meanwhile in the courtyard, there was a barrage of musket fire. A dozen of the captured French soldiers were executed along a wall. English soldiers now freely walked the captured castle, its grounds and corridors. Any wounded French soldiers were swiftly bayoneted.

The French flag had been torn down from the highest castle tower and was stamped upon by the English Dragoons that had claimed the honor of hoisting their own Union Jack. There was a whooping sound of delight as the English soldiers and officers shouted in unison "Hurra... Hurra... Hurraw".

There was an erie silence when the cheers faded. Some the English soldiers were busy looting the castle while others rested from exhaustion or took care of their wounds. The higher command of the English Army moved closer on horseback and took position in the main castle as they plotted their next move.

Several junior officer debated whether they should secure the castle and try to make it ready in case French reinforcements arrived or whether they should try to scuttle the whole thing. With their giant cannon they were certain they could do major damage to the castle and any remaining repairable defenses.

A minority of the officers insisted the castle should be robbed of whatever could be carried...

"Look at the tits on this one.... " he grunted in his thick accented English.

"You could fuck tits like that... " another soldier agreed as he took the liberty to ram the countess' head into the table to soften up her resistance.

Bishop smiled with evil intent as his men ripped at the Countess' clothing and abused her. If he'd brought officers, fucking aristocrats, they'd probably be bitching and moaning about what was proper, how to treat nobility and would probably be more interested in buggering each other than breaking this fine example of French womanhood. No, Bishop had brought the right men for this job

"All in due course, boys." Bishop said with a knowing wink. "But first, the privileges of rank"

Bishop's hand fumbled at his trousers, his cock now rock hard at the sight of the beaten and defeated Countess. Finally undoing his belt, Bishop's pants came off and his large, thick cock sprung free. Bishop knew it was of considerable size, there'd been more than one whore who'd moaned both in pleasure and pain at his efforts to slam it inside them, and knew that such an instrument was perfect for what he had in mind.

"Non... non!" the Countess continued to hiss.

"Ah, mais oui" The major tutted with some pleasure as he felt her struggle against him. The girl's futile efforts were held to a minimum and Bishop put the head of his cock at the girl's arse. Bishop spit on his hand and then coated himself with it. The gesture was not for the comfort of the girl, far from it. Bishop could tell that the girl had never been fucked like this before and he wanted to make damned sure he'd be able to bury it to the hilt. He wanted the Countess to feel his cock all the way up to her fucking lungs.

Bishop plunged forward, his slightly moistened cock penetrating the tight ring of her asshole with some force. It was even tighter than he'd imagined it to be but he kept pressing. The Countess' screams of pain caused his assembled men to buck in laughter.

"Cor, look at that" Sgt. Evans exclaimed. "Fucking slag is taking it"

"Try not to rip her up too much, Sir" Sgt. Coyle said with a guffaw "We're not all quite as blessed as you, I'd still like her to fucking feel it when I give her one"

Bishop smiled and nodded with some exertion. The girl really was tight around his cock. Despite this, Bishop kept forcing himself inside until he had buried himself completely inside of her, her asshole stretched obscenely around the thickness of his cock. Bishop leaned down towards the howling beauty.

"Now then, Countess. I hope you recognize the folly of not telling me what I wanted to know." Bishop's words were a furious whisper as he pulled his cock out slightly before thrusting back inside roughly, eliciting another scream of pain

"And don't think this is the worst either, my dear, this is a pleasant sunday afternoon compared to what else I will do to you. Now, tell me where the vault is"

The countess was seeing little white lights above her head given the heavy whack of her head against the hard oak table. Her pink and white long dress was now ripped in several places and hung loosely against her body. Her fine lace undergarments as been ripped away before she regained her senses sufficiently to protest this latest outrage.

If the Count were alive... He'd duel them all - to the death she thought though she knew he was likely dead on the battlefield below the castle.

The major's voice seemed to cackle like a jackal when he announced:

"All in due course, boys... But first, the privileges of rank"

The Countess had expected the major's cock to penetrate her aristocrat pussy. She was pinned and helpless. One of the soldiers now pulled her arms away so that he couldn't use them to fight off her attackers.

The clanking sound of a belt hitting the floor was a forewarning of things to come. The belt hit the floor with a heavy clang and she knew it was heavy - likely due to a scabbard, a pouch of shot, and other tools of war.

Though Angelique protested in French, it was the major's voice that retorted:

"Ah, mais oui"

The Countess knew her rapist was about to strike against her dignity and honor. She made another valiant struggle to shake free of her assailants but she was growing weaker and more tired. Her efforts gained her another smashing of her forehead into the hard oak table which temporarily dazed her and she lay motionless.

Seconds later, she screamed and bucked in outrage and shock as the moistened giant cock of the major plunge full length into her virgin ass. It felt like a lance or a pole had been rammed up her delicate bum. It was long and thick. It was a confusing mix of pain and pleasure.

Oh nooonnn.... Ca fais mal! It hurts... noooo" the countess erupted but the end result was the major slamming it as far as he could within her tight asshole. The English soldiers were now laughing at the distortion of pain and outrage on the face of the countess and the ludicrous grin on the face of the major.

It was the big burly man who held her arms so tight that exclaimed in amazement and delight:

"Cor, look at that... Fucking slag is taking it!"

He then added in a lower respectful voice:

"Try not to rip her up too much, Sir ... We're not all quite as blessed as you, I'd still like her to fucking feel it when I give her one"

Angelique was sure she'd pass out from the shock of knowing some common English officer had just penetrated her rear end while his men gleefully partook in eying her near naked body. Another soldiers had now taking to grabbing at her breasts as he lifting them to assess them.

"Reckon... 8 pounders each.... look at those big erect nipples... this filly is enjoying the ride" the soldiers boasted.

With the big English cock still buried to the hilt in her rear end the English major had the nerve to negotiate in a furious whisper:

"Now then, Countess. I hope you recognize the folly of not telling me what I wanted to know."

Before she could speak, the major sent ripples of pain and pleasure through the countess as he pulled his big cock out slightly before thrusting back inside roughly.

"Nnnoooooonnnnn!" the countess grunted.

The major stopped momentarily as he added:

"And don't think this is the worst either, my dear, this is a pleasant Sunday afternoon compared to what else I will do to you. Now, tell me where the vault is!"

"You are a pig! You English are filthy animals!" the countess hissed as she now spat on the sergeant who was holding her arms.

The sergeant was quick to respond with his own backhand to her head.

The countess screamed as his iron hand made contact against her soft cheek. A further ripping sound was soon generated as he made a point of tearing off the remainder of her dress and then her corset too.

"There is no gold... no treasure here..... There is no .... no nothing!" the countess hissed.

"You are fools!... The King's army will come... I will report you all.... You will all hang!" the countess screamed at the men. She knew they would rape her. It would be a long night.

"You are fools!... The King's army will come... I will report you all.... You will all hang!"

The threats from the Countess, who was currently naked and being raped on a table, made the collected Englishmen erupt in laughter. The Major did not laugh with him, there was only a smile on his face that otherwise spoke of exertion as he drove his cock into the tight confines of the Countess' asshole again and again. The force of his thrusts moving the thick heavy table closer and closer to wall.

"The King's Army?" Sgt. Coyle was the first to speak with a mocking question "The King's Army?"

"Hate to break it to you, luv, but we just massacred your King's army." This was Sgt. Evans

"That's right. And if he fancies himself another go with some more of your pathetic French faggots, we'll have them too" This was a third man

Bishop couldn't help but marvel at the sight of the woman below him. His thick cock drilling into her again and again and, despite her cries of pain, her body accomodating every thrust he gave her. Despite his intentions to prolong her suffering, Bishop couldn't deny how good her body felt around her cock, how excited he was at what he was doing. Reaching around to grab at the Countess' large breasts, he agreed with his men's earlier assessment. In addition to having all of the solidness and softness of youth, they were still incredibly large for a girl of her size. Bishop's hands were large and still some of her supple flesh spilled from the side of his grasp. Bishop first caressed the Countess but then gave the breasts a painful squeeze, both hands clenching around the tits and treating them brutally.He used his grip on the Countess' breasts as a hold as he increased the pace of his fucking her.

"Now....you....listen...to....me....you....filthy...french...whore" Bishop's words came in harsh measured tones, each word separated by him thrusting into her, each thrust more violent than the last "You will tell me what I want to know or you will spend the rest of your short life sucking every last English cock you can. The officers, the men, the fucking horses"

The situation was hopeless and at this moment the countess wished she had succeeded in jumping from the tower window and ending her life. It would have been tragic but noble. She would have been revered by the town folk and other nobles. She would have died with her honor intact.

The English were laughing at her. The major's hard cock was now ramming faster and faster and she tried to keep a straight face through the ordeal while she now softly cried. She had no idea that the major was fucking her ass so hard the table was actually moving towards the wall from the center of the room.

The sergeant mocked her:

"The King's Army? The King's Army? .. Hate to break it to you, luv, but we just massacred your King's army."

"Ooooo" the countess gasped in horror and then held her tongue as the major's big cock hit a pleasurable spot and she forced it from her mind.

A common soldier added his own retort as he began to jerk at his cock inside his trousers. He was obviously tired of waiting his turn and was ready to make the most of the opportunity. He spoke up:

"That's right. And if he fancies himself another go with some more of your pathetic French fagots, we'll have them too!"

The countess didn't bother to respond, the sergeant was now kneading her huge breasts and squeezing at her nipples. She wasn't resisting and didn't seem so mouthy so he didn't bother ramming her head into the table. The major continued to ram his big cock back and forth in her asshole, and as the minutes passed his cock flowed easier and faster and his need grew greater and greater.

Though Angelique shrieked in pain at several of his deeper stabs she was desperate to hold back any further moans or grunts as she took the slamming cock hard in her noble ass. The only relief in her mind was that the major hadn't bothered to fuck her sweet noble fertile pussy. She knew this might be short lived as the major might change his mind or that his soldiers may have their own ideas.

When the major's hands reached up and now pushed away the other man's hand, she could feel his strong desire and burning need. Her ass felt like it was on fire and she was worried that she might be bleeding having taken such a large cock so deep and fast. It was the soft caress to the neck of the countess and the extra painful two handed squeeze to her huge tits that gave the countess the warning that the major's volcano was about to blow up within her ass.

She was gasping for air and just began a series of grunting noises when the major spoke harshly:

"Now....you....listen...to....me....you....filthy...french...whore!"

After each angry word he had thrust deeper and faster into Angelique as if teaching her some sort of school lesson. She didn't like it or the fact she now needed to grunt to hold onto her self control. There was now a wet burning sensation between her legs.

The major continued the patter even more violently as he thrusted and called out:

"You will tell me what I want to know or you will spend the rest of your short life sucking every last English cock you can. The officers, the men, the fucking horses"

"Never!" the countess screamed as she felt an explosion of the major's cum in her ass. The major kept pumping away.....

Bishop knew that he couldn't last much longer. The sensation of the Countess' arse around his cock was just too pleasant. Her howled cries, which he could have sworn began to have a bit of pleasure in them, played too well to his ears. He gave the Countess a few more pained thrusts before erupting his seed into her.

"Fuck" Bishop grunted with exertion as he felt his cock thicken and spurt. He continued thrusting through his orgasm until he could feel his cock deflate. Bishop felt the sweat drip from his brow as he finally began to slow down. The Countess' had given him quite a ride, he noted with frustration, but she still hadn't told him what he wanted to know. Pulling his soiled cock from the Countess' stretched and abused asshole, he collected his saliva in his mouth before spitting on the body of the once proud noblewoman.

"Sgt. Davis!" Bishop ordered roughly as he stepped away from the Countess

"Yes sir?" Sgt. Davis was the new man of the group. He'd heard that Davis had all the things neccessary for this particular task. No real loyalty to the army, a sadistic streak and a penchant for whoring.

"Feel free to do what you wish to this slag." Bishop moved around to face the Countess as Davis hastily approached the girl, unbuttoning his own trousers. As he let them drop to the floor, Bishop heard his other men exclaim in shock.

"Cor blimey" Evans said

"I heard the one whore screaming that night, nice to know why" This was Coyle.

Bishop looked for himself and found himself shocked. The cock that Davis had unleashed put his own considerable member to a bit of shame. It was nearly half again as long as Bishop's and thicker. It was dark and dirty looking and had a distinct curve upwards.

"Thing must be a foot long" Evans shook his head with a smile. Bishop just nodded. He grabbed another fistful of the Countess' golden locks and yanked her head from the table. He smiled at his handiwork. The once haughty looking aristocrat now looked like any other trollop. Her makeup stained, her face sweaty.

"Open your mouth" Bishop ordered harshly.

"Non" The countess shook her head, still defiantly. Bishop, in no mood for games, again bounced her head against the table harshly before yanking it back up.

"I said open your mouth, you despicable French sow" Bishop again ordered and this time was met with a meek compliance. Bishop positioned the cum stained head of his cock at the Countess' lips and thrust in roughly. Bishop could feel the countess gag around his cock but paid it no mind and simply thrust into her.

"Well, what are you waiting for Davis?" Bishop ordered as he plunged his cock into the Countess' soft throat.

"She's fookin' drippin', sir" Davis smiled as he rubbed the large head of his cock against the Countess' pussy lips. He too then thrust into the Countess. His thick, veiny cock slamming into her cunt at full speed and with a disregard for her well being. Bishop could feel the Countess' scream around his cock as Davis plunged inside and found the sensation incredibly enjoyable. Bishop gave her a healthy slap in the face with a chuckle.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?"

The Countess was angry at the situation and at herself.

The bastard major had grunted out like a pig - "fuck!" and then he had erupted like a burning volcano with a long hot flow of dirty English seed within her aristocratic proud French derrière.

"Maudit Anglais!" the Countess hissed forgetting her own lady like manners. The major ignored her and continued his thrusting for a while longing as he seemed to overly enjoy the moment.

Enough... enough[/I[ she thought mentally but didn't want to give the major the satisfaction that he had in fact gotten under her skin with his crude tactics.


"Yuk" the Countess mumbled as the major pulled his dirty dripping cock from her derrière. The spitting sound very angered her as he then spat on her back as he stepped backed and roughly called out:

"Sgt. Davis!"

The Countess assumed the ordeal was over and was slowly moving her body to fall over to the floor. She hoped to crawl away.

Maybe they're done... Maybe I can slip away were ideas that darting across her brain. She was exhausted and aching from the major raping her ass. Though he had filled her rear-end she was relieved he hadn't fucked her sweet pussy. The scandal of having an English bastard child would be the ultimate disgrace.

The voice of an eager man replied:

"Yes sir?"

The Countess closed her eyed and tried to move but she felt a pull from the man who was still holding her arms.

The Countess moaned in despair as the major told the sergeant:

"Feel free to do what you wish to this slag."

Angelique had no idea what the term slag meant, however, she knew the next brute would have his own sexual ideas and that her torture was not yet over. She wondered if they would beat her senseless when they were done. If she died during the beating then her honour was still in tact.

I can't reveal the treasure vault... otherwise .. all is for nothing.... I can redeem myself... and my husband the late count the Countess mentally reasoned.

Bishop moved around to face the Countess as Davis hastily approached the girl,

There was no sound for a second or two and the Countess assumed that the sergeant was getting ready. The clank of his gun belt and cross belt to the floor warned her that she would be getting fucked again.

The murmuring of the men caused her confusion. She resisted the urge to look as she assumed he was about to hit her with the butt of his rifle. But instead she hear another of the English say:

"Cor blimey"

She had no idea what he said. It sounded like some peasant dialect. Then the man added:

"I heard the one whore screaming that night, nice to know why."

The Countess knew the word whore and screaming and immediately strained her neck to look back at the man behind her. Her sweet blue eyes bulged in surprise and shock as she a giant sized cock, dark, dirty, curved upwards and probably 12 or 13 inches long.

"Oh mon Dieu... Non..." the Countess muttered as she squirmed with a new burst of energy to get free from the table. The man holding her was quick to keep her down on the table for his major and fighting companions.

Another man spoke up:

"Thing must be a foot long!"

There was an exchange of looks between the major and his men and then he moved forward and wicked grabbed her long blonde hair yanking her up from the table as he ordered harshly:

"Open your mouth!"

Of course she refused the dirty order to either suck or clean the vulgar man's cock. Shaking her head defiantly she spoke in a whisper - "Non".

"Ouuucccchhh... it hurts!" the countess muttered in broken English as the major roughly bounced her head against the hard table. Then she felt the pain in her scalp as the major yanked her head upwards as he again ordered:

"I said open your mouth, you despicable French sow!"

This time there was no resistance. Her head was spinning. She quickly took his semi-erect cock as far into her mouth as the major pushed it. She resisted the urge to gag as he forced it to the back of her mouth and near the entrance to her delicate throat. Slowly he started to move the semi-erect in her mouth and she now tenderly let it move back and forth to the major's pace as she sucked on it and treated it to soft kisses with her tongue. Her mouth was steaming hot and delicious.

The Countess had forgotten about the soldier behind her until the major called out:

"Well, what are you waiting for Davis?"

The Countess again gagged for a split second for the major made a point of ramming his cock full into her mouth. She took it as best she could. His cock was hot and getting larger and longer as she worked it skillfully. It tasted dirty and she tried to put it from her mind.

The man behind her announced to the men:

"She's fookin' drippin', sir"

The Countess moaned in reflex to the big cock now being rubbed against her delicate and sensitive pussy. The monster cock was coming and she was helpless to stop it.

"Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" the Countess screamed as she momentarily stopped sucking the major's now erect cock for the man behind her had cruelly taken his thick, veiny monster cock and slammed into as fast as he could as deep as he could into her wet hot pussy.

"C'est un monstre!" the countess tried to mumble as she felt as if the man had rammed his rifle up her sweet love canal. It was simply huge and she tried not to squeeze onto it but it was too big and she had to clamp down hard upon it and she moaned a second time.

The slap to her face broke her concentration and she returned to the task of the major's erection which she now worked on in a more spirited manner. Her strategy was to work quickly and get it over with. By focusing on the major, she tried to ignore the man who was now trying to ram his monster cock back and forth in her tight pussy. Though it ached great pleasure also passed through her body and she was desperate to hide it. Her body greedily took in the big monster cock and after a few plunges it was so slick from her juices that he was free to pick up the pace and to reach deeper and deeper into her honey hole which gave him such great pleasure.

The Countess ignored the major's crude comment:

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?"

"She's got a sweet cunt this one... Made for the docks I'd say... I could fuck it all night" the sergeant spoke crudely as he made a show of fucking the countess' pussy to the delight of the men watching.

The countess with soft tears flowing from her eyes continued to endure her rough treatment from her English tormentors. She tried to hide her thoughts and feelings.

I will endure... I will survive... I will revenge my honour she mentally promised herself as she imagined each of her attackers hanging from a tree after she had given the order to a squad of French soldiers for their execution.

She was tempted to bit on the major's cock but fearing his retribution she didn't. As she sucked she felt his hand lingering in her long blonde hair as if he was holding onto his horse's mane.

Bishop's hand gripped the Countess' hair tightly as he continued thrusting roughly into her mouth. He had gotten hard very quickly after being put in her mouth. He wasn't sure if it was owing to her skills, which he had to admit were impressive, or if it was the situation. The power that he and his men had over this pretty young girl at the moment. For the briefest of seconds, Bishop thought he could feel the Countess' teeth against his cock. He let out a groan before turning to his men.

"The whore can suck a cock, boys. Something tells me that's why all those French bastards were so willing to die for the place." Bishop laughed "Probably had all the men in the castle lineup so she could suck them all, isn't that right?"

Bishop leaned down further so that his lips were right to the Countess' ear.

"Whatever you're thinking, Countess, I'd think again. We know your children are here. I feel even the slightest bite and they die" Bishop whispered harshly. Bishop had hid this from his men. He wasn't sure if he could actually hurt children and knew that it was a last resort if the Countess' didn't break to some of their other methods. Nevertheless, it seemed as though the threat was well received. The Countess' eyes went wide and she strained to open her mouth wider. Bishop continued thrusting into her wet, warm mouth, his balls slapping against her chin. He couldn't deny it, the whore was either an experienced cocksucker or a talented amateur.

Sgt. Davis, for his part, continued thrusting his oversized cock into the Countess' once tight little cunny. She had struggled and resisted at first but as the thick, meaty tool drilled into her again and again Davis could feel her open up, her pussy juice soaking his dick, enabling him to thrust faster and deeper. It was always the case, Davis thought. He'd taken enough women against their will to know it. The slags always would say no but once they got a taste of his cock they'd soon be begging for more.

What did surprise him, though, was that he was able to wedge his entire length into her cunt. Most women bottomed out but not the Countess. Soon he was slamming his entire length into her with hard, pounding thrusts.

"Fookin' slag is built for cock" Davis grunted as her tight, wet cunt gripping around his cock tighter and tighter.

Bishop nodded his approval. Truth was, he was lost in his own pleasure. It wouldn't take much more for him to cum a second time. He lost all interest in the Countess' health and just drove his cock deeper, gagging her. He gave a few more slams before pulling himself out, his cock spurting his seed into her mouth and then all over her face. Bishop noted with delight as the Countess' spunk covered face contorted in pleasure because of the cock drilling into her. His grip on her hair never loosened.

"You are built for cock, aren't you?" Bishop laughed "I know you know English, Countess. Tell my Seargeant how much you like his cock"

The Countess endured the situation as best a lady could. She busily worked the major's cock and her pussy hungrily took the sergeant's massive cock. Her brain and body were disconnected from reality. She was just trying to survive the moment as her head ached and brain warned her that things were going from bad to worse. Secretly she was now hoping that a more Senior officer might stop the brutality being inflected upon her but with the door to the room bolted it was most unlikely.

The major humiliated her further as he announced in a regal fashion laughing fashion to his men:

"The whore can suck a cock, boys. Something tells me that's why all those French bastards were so willing to die for the place. Probably had all the men in the castle lineup so she could suck them all, isn't that right?"

The countess closed her eyes but major pulled at her head as if to make her seem to agree to his torment.

While the men laughed the major leaned down further so that his lips were right to the Countess' ear. She heard his new threat against her children:

"Whatever you're thinking, Countess, I'd think again. We know your children are here. I feel even the slightest bite and they die!"

This introduced a new fear into her. She was no longer so confident that her children had successfully escaped the castle. There had been a plan in place but perhaps it had been thwarted. She just didn't know for sure and right now couldn't take the risk. She left his cock flow even more freely in her mouth as he face fucked her like some peasant girl. The major continued thrusting into her wet, warm mouth, but now he was still deeper and his balls slapping against her chin. She fought back the urge to gag as his cock was now penetrating her throat.

Angelique moaned a strange pattern between the thrusts from the Sergeant's huge cannon of a cock, the rubbing of her huge breasts, and the inability for her to control the tempo of the fucking she was enduring. Her body bucked involuntarily on the monster cock and her love juices were cascading onto the monster pole within her pussy. He was too big, too strong, and too powerful to resist.

The sergeant soon made his own insults to her as he announced to the men:

"Fookin' slag is built for cock!"

He was grunting in exertion and the Countess knew that he would soon spew forth his seed. It was another humiliation inflected upon her. Without intention, her body responded to his need and her wet hot cunt gripping squeezed the monster cannon of a cock tighter and tighter - literally milking his seed as he continued his hard deep thrusts.

The countess gasped for air and gagged when the major made a deep thrust down her throat. She half expected his load of seed to spew forth at that second but instead he gave a few more slams into her mouth and then pulled himself out. At this instant as he motioned to withdrew his cock he spurting his seed into her mouth and then all over her face. She grunted and moaned and was unable to use her hands to try to wipe it off as she tried to spit it from her mouth. Unable to do so, she then tried to swallow it while she gasped for air and fought the gag reflex.

The cum was now in her hair,as it dripped from her forehead to her ears. It was around her beautiful her blue eyes, and on her soft aristocratic nose and cheeks. As she tried to shake her head she now realized that the major hadn't for a second loosened his grip of her long blonde hair.

He spoked wickedly to her:

"You are built for cock, aren't you? ... I know that you know English, Countess. Tell my Sergeant how much you like his cock!"

The countess didn't speak. For her defiance the man holding her arms cruelly twisted them until she was sure they would break. With forced enthusiasm she called out:

"Sergeant... I like your cock!"

On cue to her words the sergeant made his own final thrusts forcing her to moan aloud to the delight of the men who watch:

"Ohhhh... oooo...aaaaa... oooo.....You're too big... Ohhhh....AAAa!" the Countess screamed out as the sergeant released his cannon of a cock into her sweet stretched delicious accommodating oven of a pussy.

"AAAaaaaaaaa" she gasped as she felt his hot flow deep in her pussy...... At that second she knew this was the man who would no doubt have planted a seed within her body.... It would no doubt be his bastard child that would soon be growing within her.

Bishop looked on with some degree of frustration as Davis plowed into her for the final time, groaning as his huge cock erupted into the Countess' cunt. While doing this to the girl made for fine sport, he had hoped that Davis could have gone longer. The goal, after all, was the treasure in the vault. Bishop could see that both Coyle and Evans were sporting large erections of their own and Bishop nodded at the men.

"Right. Evans, on her mouth." Bishop's order was immediately and eagerly followed as Sgt. Evans frantically removed his trousers and took his place where Bishop had stood. The dazed, exhausted countess was once again forced to open her mouth and a throbbing English cock was forced inside. Davis, meanwhile, withdrew his still impressively sized cock from the Countess' now stretched pussy. Cum leaked from her once tight cunt and trickled down her thigh.

"Coyle, her cunt" Bishop again barked an order that was followed with great haste and eagerness.

"You better no 'ave loosened her up too much, Davis" Coyle laughed as he began shoving his considerably smaller cock into the Countess. Any worries he might have had, though, were obviously for nothing. He was soon grunting and groaning away as he thrust roughly into the Countess.

"Now, Countess" Bishop leaned down again to Angelique's ear "There are more than a thousand men in my command. If you continue with this stubborn streak, each and everyone will have his turn with you"

The Countess' groans continue to fill the room as she was savagely raped at both ends. This particular abuse did not last long however, soon Evans found himself spilling a copious amount of his cum down her throat and Coyle the same in the Countess' once pristine, now hopelessly soiled pussy. The two men withdrew but not before joining their major in spitting on the once proud woman. As soon as his men had removed themselves from her, Bishop once more took a fierce grip of her hair and slapped her face hard.

"I think that ends the portion of this endeavour where we attempt to ply you with our tender, English affections" Bishop said sternly as he again struggled with his belt. This time, however, his intentions were not to free his cock but simply to take his belt in his hands. Soon the heavy leather was in his hands.

"Coyle, Evans. We may have to resort to the other option we discussed" Bishop barked fiercely as he wrapped his belt around his fist. The two sergeants nodded and left the room, hurriedly. As they left Bishop swung his hand down, his belt cracking viciously against the Countess' exposed buttocks. The Countess began to howl in pain as he gave her the full strength of his lashes again and again.

"You will call me your master, you French whore. You will tell me what I wish to know and serve my men like some streetwalking harlot because I so demand it." Bishop's voice now betrayed how furious he was.

"Non" The Countess cried out. Her refusal only bringing harsher and harsher blows against her ass.

The Countess knew the big man was spent for his efforts were dripping like a fountain from her tired slippery hot cunt. No sooner had he finished than the major took control:

"Right. Evans, on her mouth."

The major moved aside and another man was now forcing a much smaller prick into her mouth. It tasted like pee and dirt but the Countess did not protest. She knew it was a wasted effort and her head already throbbed.

When the sergeant pulled out his monster cock, the Countess groaned and nearly bit into the man's balls. There was a loud farting sound as sergeant pulled out his massive pecker from her wet inferno. He was proud of himself and she could feel his big hands rubbing against her leg in some strange sign of affection or appreciation.

The major barked his command:

"Coyle, her cunt!"

The Countess knew the last of the four men was scurrying for position as he made a point of spreading her legs out as far as he could. He was most enthused and jokingly commented:

"You better no 'ave loosened her up too much, Davis!"

The Countess barely even felt him enter her stretched pussy. He was ramming back and forth for a minute until her body tuned into his motions and demands. Tender as she was, she was quick to moan in response to his fierce efforts to make her cry out and thereby prove his own manhood.

The man in front, tapped her face and she knew to begin her love treatment of his erection which she now smothered with fast tongue attention and as sucked the prick as if her life depended on it. The man was grunting in appreciation of her efforts and he make a point to reach over and grabbed her by her nipples to further arouse and stimulate the countess.

Unable to focus her mind, the major returned to his threats and interrogation as he leaned down and barked in her ear:

"Now, Countess ... There are more than a thousand men in my command. If you continue with this stubborn streak, each and everyone will have his turn with you"

The Countess knew that was a bluff. The scandal it would create would certainly motivate her country to arms. The last thing the British royal family would want was to learn that other nobles were being abused by common officers and soldiers. There were so many familial relationships crossing countries and borders that it would be too risky and the secret of the rape would instead be spread half way across Europe.

It was a dangerous game for all. The men who raped her could be at risk after the war should she dare to pursue them. On the other hand, if they felt so threatened they might elect to kill her. Yet again, the Countess to pursue them would have to swear out a public oath and thereby dishonor herself and her good name. The last thing she wanted was to be the source of gossip and ridicule.

The last two men were faster or so it seemed to the countess. Though she groaned, grunted and moaned in response to the two men, her spirit had been broken earlier and they easily took their way with her. The man in front, shouted in glee as he deep throated the countess and unleashed his load straight down her throat like a soldier might a Paris whore. The man buried into her drenching wet sticky cunt was enjoying the experience and she couldn't tell when he self satisfied himself. Even when he pulled out she was none the wiser. It was the spitting from the two men that further dejected the countess.

"We taught this Frenchie" laughed the man who had deep throated the countess.

"Did you see the whore riding my cock... She was shaking and bucking like a mare" he announced through it wasn't at all true. The others just laughed and patted him on the back in congratulations.

The countess lay on the table weeping. She was no longer held down and wasn't even sure how long her arms had been free. She hadn't thought to try to move them.

As she started to curl herself into a ball, the major once again grabbed her long blonde hair into fierce grip of her hair and then slapped her face hard with his second hand. The Countess' head bounced from the blow to her face and then her bounced back off the table. She was so stunned that she didn't move further. She just lay there in a heap, dripping of cum, and smelling like a camp whore. Her dress and corset were mostly shreds on the floor. Naked and beaten as she was, with smudged make-up and her hair, she looked like a camp whore.

The major seemed pleased with his little session as he proclaimed:

"I think that ends the portion of this endeavor where we attempt to ply you with our tender, English affections."

It's over... They'll throw me in a prison cell... Someone more senior will see me in the morning.... I'll report them the Countess planned.

The Countess wasn't expecting what came next at all. The major had pulled off his heavy leather belt. He told one of his men:

"Coyle, Evans. We may have to resort to the other option we discussed."

The Countess expected to be dragged to the cells under the castle or maybe to an English prison cart. Never had she expected that the major would began beating her with the broad belt. The repeated blows to her ass made her scream so loud it echoed in the tower. She howled and bucked to each blow from the major's belt as the men cackled and laughed at her response. She could hear some of the men leaving the room.

No witnesses ... maybe he plans to kill me she thought. Then the major took a new tactic and furiously ordered her:

"You will call me your master, you French whore. You will tell me what I wish to know and serve my men like some street walking harlot because I so demand it."

The Countess didn't speak and could barely move at all. Her body ached from head to toe. Though she wasn't bleeding she expected to be black and blue with bruises, and her rear-end would have red welts from the thrashing. She wasn't sure if she would even be able to walk.

"Non..." the Countess whispered in a mumbled voice. In response the major beat her several more times until she passed out from the pain. When she stopped moving to his blows he stopped. It was futile to beat her any further.

Outside the window, the English army was setting up camp inside the castle walls. Beer and spirits were now flowing freely amongst the soldiers while the officers were gone to the nearby town to dine, relax and to visit the better whores.

One of the major's men returned with a trunk of women's clothes.

"The best I could do Sir.... I got some clothes from one of the servant girls... They should fit the countess... We could pass her off as some serving whench.... No one would bother us if we fucked her forever or if we took her on a long walk .... "

Another man returned with an armful of clothes:

"I got an outfit for four shillings from Lucy. They smell like sex but Lucy assures me any lass wearing these clothes will be the happiest whore in camp. The men would be lined up for fuck a trollop in these ..."

The third man returned with a large tub of icy water and a bar of army soap. It was the massive sergeant. He spoke:

"We can either clean her up a bit.... If the general sees her like this... We've got a problem... If we have to move her it may be best to tale care of a few things first.... or we could use the icy water use it to refresh the lady... before we go at it again".

"We can either clean her up a bit.... If the general sees her like this... We've got a problem... If we have to move her it may be best to tale care of a few things first.... or we could use the icy water use it to refresh the lady... before we go at it again".

Bishop thought over Davis's words before replying. He looked down at the unconscious Countess and thought that, perhaps, he may have let his anger get the better of him.

"Leave the General to me, Davis. I know the man and I think that, if we disguise the Countess suitably he'll give us very little trouble. " Bishop said confidently. The General would not be a problem. The man was in his 70's and hard of hearing. Still, Bishop was deep in thought as he considered their problem.

"But what about the treasure, sir?" Coyle asked impatiently. "We all fucked the slag as hard as we could and didn't get word one from 'er"

Bishop looked at Coyle, somewhat annoyed. He'd been weighing that very problem and having it rabbited at him hadn't helped. Still, as he replayed the days events over in his mind, a plan of action did take hold. One that would definitely cover all of the possibilities.

"Right. This is what we do. Coyle and Evans, the both of you ride out with a few men you trust and search the county for the Countess' children. The threat of harm to the both of them definitely seemed to be a breaking point. Find them and, I think, we win the day."

"Can do sir" Coyle nodded

"I'll deal with the General. There's no way to know when we'll be ordered to move out again and we'll have to take her with us. When the two of you find the children you'll meet up with us and we'll all break camp and come back here and pilfer the treasure as planned."

This all brought a nod from the men.

"Davis."

"Aye sir?" Davis' attention had been on the nude body of the Countess but was brought back to the Major.

"You'll stay with the Countess. Keep her locked up, never let her out of your sight and get her ready to leave at a moment's notice. Should anyone ask you're following my orders and guarding a prisoner"

"Right sir, never let her out of my sight" Davis acknowledged with an evil grin. Bishop knew what was meant by this and stepped to him deliberately.

"If you can break her, break her." Bishop ordered between gritted teeth.

"Aye sir" Davis replied

~An hour later~

The four English soldiers had made their plans and gone about them, leaving the barred room at the top of the tower containing only Davis and the Countess.

Sgt. Nigel Davis had been in the army for 10 years. It was a life he knew and liked. There were always fights to be won and whores to fuck. Back in London they'd have thrown him in prison for it. In the army they paid him well and gave him a slap on the back. Still, when he'd heard what the Major had planned he'd gone along with it quicker than you could say anything. Getting rich, moving to the colonies and buying him a few nice round slaves to fuck had the perfect ring to Nigel.

It wasn't until he heard the soft murmurs of the Countess regaining consciousness that his attentions were snapped back to the present.

"Awake then, are we?" Davis asked mockingly as he knelt down to face her

"Quel?" The Countess asked in a daze

"M'afraid I don't speak much of your French nonsense, luv" Davis scooped his arms beneath her and lifted the Countess' body as if it were a feather in his powerful arms "So you'll have to speak what you can of the King's English and we'll get along famously"

Walking over to the tub, Davis gently lowered the Countess into the cold water. Stepping back, Davis leaned up against a wall, his eyes fixed on the Countess' firm, supple body.

"Best get to washing up" Davis said as he leered at her naked body. Davis felt his cock swell as he saw the perfect, rosy nipples on the Countess large breasts harden in the chill of the water. He watched her clean herself for some minutes but as her hands approached her breasts he stepped towards her and again began lowering his pants, freeing the huge cock that sprang out viciously.

"New plan." Davis ordered as he shoved his throbbing cock towards the Countess' mouth "Wash my cock, your majesty"

The Countess drifted into unconciousness and soon the pain of the beating no longer existed. For the moment she was floating like a cloud in a dream world. It was a place of happier times. She was riding her beautiful favourite horse through across a green field with the castle in the distance. She was alone as she galloped freely in perfect security. The sun shone on her face and her long dress and head covering fluttered in the breeze. It was a marvelous day and everything seemed so perfect.

She had no idea how long she lay unconscious. As her brain tuned into the world around her she quickly felt the return to the pain across her body though it centered the most on her buttocks. The fact that she had been gang raped by the English ruffians and their officer flooded back into her mind and made her very angry.

The Countess slowly came awake, the pain caused her to wince as he moved slightly. The room was quiet. She opened her blue eyes slowly wondering what was going on.

An English sergeant was quick to knell down to her face as he mockingly asled:

"Awake then, are we?"

The countees was confused as she tried to figure out what day it was. She asked in a daze:

"Quel jour.... ?"

The sergeant looked confused and then spoked very clearly as if speaking to a daft child:

"M'afraid I don't speak much of your French nonsense, luv"

"Mais..." the countess started to speak.

The sergeant ignored her protests as he scooped her up, like a rag dool, in his powerful arms and moved her across the room.

Her eyes fluttered open and closed as her soft light battered body melted into his strong arms. He spoke in a soothing voice:

"So you'll have to speak what you can of the King's English and we'll get along famously."

The Countess was lowered into the small icy tub of cold water and she screamed out in shock and the water cooled her burniing rear end. It was instant relief to her aching body. She didn't protest further as the water soothed her and brought her brain and senses back to life.

She as about to protest the presence of the sergeant but he spoke quickly:

"Best get to washing up"

"But Monsieur... It is not proper.... "the Countess began but the look on the face o the sergeant told her that he wasn't leaving and he was now leering at her naked body.

Instinctively, the countess tried to cover up her breasts as best she could with her arms and hands. She felt humiliated all over as her big rosy nipples began erect under his gaze thanks to the icy chill of the water. It was the last response she wanted this animal from the English army to witness.

Still trying to be modest, she tried to carefully wash herself despiet the fact she opposed the sergeant watching her with such interest. It was a painful process as the tub was tight against her body.

"Oh non" the Countess cried out as she watched the sergeant began lowering his pants, freeing the huge cock that sprang out viciously, as he walked closer to her.

"Please not again" the Countess whispered.

"New plan!" Davis ordered.

"But..." the countess protested but he simply shoved his throbbing cock towards the Countess' mouth.

"Mais monsieur... I" the Countess tried to change the mind of the sergeant with her soft voice, gentle eyes, and pleading.

But the sergeant was very clear and direct "Wash my cock, your majesty!"

"English pig!" the Countess muttered as she took the sergeant's cock into her mouth and began to work it feverishly. It was big and hard and this time she had no urge to gag. She licked it, sucked it, teased it, and let the sergeant work it back and forth in her hot steamy mouth.

She played with for twenty minutes. Each time she sensed he was approaching ejaculation she slowed down his pace and worked his cock with her hands for a few strokes. Her motivation was simple. The icy water was resfreshing to her wounds and she needed the icy water. She feared if she finshed the blow job he would take her from the tub and crudely fuck her on the table.

The sergeant was grinning from ear to ear at the delight he was provided. He felt in firm control of the situation and prided himself he was ismply following orders.

The Countess knew her time in the tub was ending when the sergeant reached into the tub to pull her out. As he did she resisted his efforts and the tub turned on its side forcing the gallons of icy cold water to spill across the floor while a clanking sound of metal grinding on stone echoed in the tower room.

"Non...no...no..." the Countess mutteres as the Sergeant dragged and carried her towards the table top. She knew he was going to fuck her and she couldn't allow that again.

"No!... No!" she creamed aloud hoping that someone might here.

There was a knock on the door and a voice called out:

"In the name of the King - Open the door!"

The Countess gasped in delight as she assumed she would be freed and the ordeal ended.

"It's Sergeant Davis.... It's just me and a whore... Let me get dressed and I'll open the door.

Quickly the sergeant scrambled back into his pants. He held the the bayonet from his rifle in the back of Chantal as he moved them body to the door. He slid away the bolt to the door. He opened it to expose his form and the naked form of the countess before him.

It was a tense moment.

"All clear sergeant" the sentry spoke as he accepted the explanation that the sergeant was indeed with a whore in the tower room. The sentry marched back down the tower stairs.

"Fuck that was close!" the sergeant muttered under his breath.

The sergeant quickly closed the door and then Chantal felt a crashing blow to the back of her head that sent her unconscious.
---------------

As she opened her big blue eyes many hours later she knew that she was longer in the tower. She didn’t remember being moved but remembered Sergeant Davis and the sentry. As she stepped out of the makeshift bed she realized that she was in some sort of traveling trailer through the cart was not in motion. Scurrying to the back entrance of the trailer and carefully peeking out she realized she was camped out a mile or so from the castle and likely 2 miles from the main English army. In their little camp appeared to be a collection of various vendors, camp followers, odds & ends or misfits.

Realizing that she was not in any immediate danger she was quick to look for a mirror to assess her condition. Her first thought was to get medical care for herself and then to escape. Looking down at herself in the mirror, she didn’t recognize herself. She was dressed in a gawdy English dress of the common class. She wore no undergarments and the simple white peasant blouse was largely scooped out so that her huge white breasts were completely displayed and her soft nipples pressed hard against the cheap and flimsy fabric. Accompanying her dress she wore a dark skirt to her ankles of some crude and itchy English wool. Her hair, and eyebrows had been dyed black. Her hair had been cut to shoulder length and now hung loose and free. Her face was more hidden by short bangs that had been added to appearance. She wore no jewels or other distinctions of the upper class. She looked like an English peasant and probably a camp strumpet.

Carefully lifting up her long black coarse wool skirt and using the mirror on the wall she tried to assess the big red welts to her derriere. There were black and blue lines running across her buttocks. It looked sore and certainly ached. She wished for something strong to dull the pain. But she knew her personal physician had long ago fled the castle and its environment.

How dare they strike me! The animals… I should report them now… the Countess mused mentally. Then she realized that dressed as she was no one would recognize her as the countess and the English would likely laugh her off or at worst punish her in some vulgar manner. She wondered if there were any servants left who might be able to identify her voice or face. But she doubted this too. Most had fled and the rest likely butchard by the cursed English.

Before she was able to drop her skirt a female voice boomed out behind her and a rather grotesquely fat English woman paraded into the trailer. She was dressed in a fine French Dress and wore expensive jewellery which the countess quickly recognized as her own. The woman spoke in a quiet but serious tone.

“Sergeant Davis has asked me let you work for me. I gather you must have served him well for normally he doesn’t bring his whores back to camp. I see the boys in the field gave you quite a beating and I suggest that next time you don’t play so hard to get” the fat woman teased.

“This is an outrage!” the countess whispered in her broken English. The sergeant told me you might disagree he's not too far and ready to beat you if needed.

“Oh yes… and the good sergeant suggests that you don’t talk at all… Folks might be thinking that you’re some sort of French spy… They execute spies you know…. Now again if they knew you were some sort of local whore… They’d be more tolerant but your perfect French and accent my betray your birth” the fat woman spoke again.

“I can keep a secret… But there is a price to be paid too…. The sergeant has given me a few gifts… But if you expect to stay here…. In relative safety… you need to follow my rules… and do as I say… at all times” the fat English woman explained.

“Now… we have some guests coming over later tonight to visit you… you will entertain the two corporals…. and make them very happy… they’ll each pay you a few shillings…. as a local whore your cunny ain't worth much like us fine English ladies... I’ll be at the door… for your safety… and to make sure you don’t cause no problems” the fat woman added.

“…And don’t you worry none about your boyfriend the sergeant… he promises to be back for some more chats and your tasty mouth … ” the fat woman added.

“Just so you know… I’ve told the other girls your name is Monique… and that you are a local girl I’ve hired but that you are fairy new to the profession .. Be careful of them … They don’t like Frenchies stealing their business… and some of them have lost several husbands already…. They may play tricks on you… so be on your guard” the fat woman continued on.

"Major Bishop!"

Bishop had been lost in thought in his tent, going over the day's events. He would be commended, he was sure, for the victory but commendations and promotions mattered little to him at this stage. He was after the treasure and all he'd managed at this point was the jewelery that the Countess had been wearing. They were valuable pieces, yes, but certainly nothing that would set him up in the lifestyle he so desired. In addition, if the Countess was discovered as a whore then it would mean serious trouble for him.

"Major Bishop!"

The voice again cried out, rousing him from his thoughts. After the day's events it was a bit of a shock to hear anyone refer to him as a subordinate. Bishop turned his head to see General Forsythe, dressed in a spotless uniform and with his aide at his side. The General had been a large, imposing man in his day but the sun had long set on that day. Now the man was wrinkled, red faced and with a stomach that bulged against his coat. Bishop didn't have a great deal of respect for his commanding officers and General Forsythe was no exception.

"Yes sir?"

"Bloody good show on the day, I should say. Just been over the casualty numbers with Higgins here and it looks like I was right about the taking of Dresslier after all." The General said, full of pride and pomp as he sat down at the seat opposite Bishop's.

"Yes sir. It seems as though things went off just as..." Bishop paused as he thought on what the General had said "You were right sir?"

"No need to thank me, Major." The General's voice was as stuffy and betraying of aristocratic inbreeding as any Bishop had heard.

Bishop couldn't believe it. He had argued with the General for nights about the taking of Dresslier. Forsythe had been opposed to it since the day it was brought up. It had only been when Bishop had made the appeal to a higher thought of General that the siege had been approved.

"Thank you?" Bishop asked incredulously

"You're welcome" The General lit the large pipe he so frequently smoked while waving what he thought were thanks from the Major away. "It will look good on you. You were the spearhead of a cunningly devised plot of mine. We've taken one of their finest castles and got them screaming towards Paris. This ought to get them back to the negotiating table, I should say"

Bishop rubbed at his head. He'd developed something of a headache.

"But there was something I wanted to speak to you about Major" The General's voice became somewhat less cheerful and he waved Higgins out of the room.

"Yes sir?" Bishop slumped back in his chair, his head resting on a hand.

"I've heard tales from some of the men that you're taking whores along with you."

Bishop sighed. He knew this was coming.

"Yes sir. Ordinarily I wouldn't approve either but, well, you know the men, they like to have their fun and...."

The General interrupted with a quiet and mildly embarrassed voice

"Understood, Major. Very understood. No, I was actually wondering if, uh, you could arrange it so that I could, that is, it's been a long time since I've seen my wife and...."

Bishop looked at the General with pitched eyebrows. Was the old fool actually asking him to point him in the direction of the camp whores? Bishop couldn't believe it. General Forsythe, who'd so often gone on about lectures on proper English morality was asking him to set him up with a whore.

"Of course sir. Say no more." Bishop nodded. It would be simple enough for him to arrange it. He stood up with the General and made their way to the exit of the tent and walked him in the direction of the brothel that had been set up.

"Also, Major." Forsythe's voice had lost any of the embarrassment on display earlier among the noise of the victorious men, celebrating loudly. "We still haven't managed to locate the Countess. Your men haven't seen her, have you?"

"Yes sir. Me and my men fucked her for hours in every single hole she had" Bishop said softly, confident in the noise of the camp drowning out his admission.

"Eh, what was that?" The General craned his head towards Bishop

"No sir. And we searched the castle thoroughly" Bishop spoke loudly this time.

"Well see to it that she's found!" Forsythe reacted with some annoyance "And make sure it's known that any man who mistreats her will be strung up by the hide of their neck. Can't have decent noble women violated. Not good show."

As the words left the General's lips first a feeling of worry passed through the Major's mind and then, shortly thereafter, an idea sprung forth.

"You know General, I think I know of a girl that would be perfect for your needs."

"What was that Major?"

"Nothing sir. Just that we're here at Monique's!"

The Countess' feelings swung from anger and hatred toward the English, to self loathing at herself and hopelessness. The Countess was fuming as first she fetched several pails of water like some servant from the nearby stream. Then as ordered, she quietly gathered sticks for a small cooking fire. The fat English watched her and shepherded her around like she was some sort of stupid goat.

As she walked around the camp and the nearby forested areas, she gathered a lot of male attention despite her intentions to blend in. It was only when she had completed her task that realized that the fat woman had intended for the men in the camp to see her newest girl.

The men are watching me with their eyes.... I can feel their eyes upon me... They're assessing me.. The dirty pigs! she thought as she moved about. The men smiled at her, grinned at her or made funny noises with their lips. An older man whistled at her and later when she was bent over to pick over, slapped her rear end.

"Ouch... mon Dieu!" she had yelled out in anger. But the man just laughed.

Cutting vegetables, handling raw meat, and then cooking the mess into a stew like substance only caused her further grief. The sauce was too thin, the meat burnt, and the vegetables undercooked. For her efforts she received only complaints from the other women who worked for the Fat English woman.

“You Frenchies cook for shit!” one of the other girls had scolded her. It was the first time in her life cooking anything and she wished her servants could have helped her. Prior to the siege, she would have been feasting in the banquet hall at the castle in complete luxury and comfort.

"If this is haut-cuisine then I want good ole English fish and chips!" another of the whores complained as she dumped her food on the ground.

No sooner had the Countess finished eating when they caught off guard by the presence of the General and the Major. It was a nervous moment as Angelique debated pleading her case to the General. He seemed like a gallant and noble man in such a clean and regal uniform. But before she could speak, she heard her name “Monique” and then some whispering between the major, the general and the Fat Lady.

This can't be good... They're up to something Angelique realized.

As the fat English woman, first pointed at her, and then called her over, Angelique realized that the general was there for entertainment rather than any noble purpose. She assumed he was just another villain and since he was smiling and accompanying the major, she figured he too was in the plot. It would be pointless to tell him her story and hope that he would do the noble thing and protect her and then punish the major and his men.

The countess could see a nervous look at the Fat woman’s face. It was quickly replaced with a smug grin, as the fat lady obviously had some sort of plan. As the countess approached, the fat lady spoke to another of the girls and she disappeared. Unknown to Angelique she had been instructed to hide under the bed and to speak on behalf of the countess.

“This way your Lordship…. Yes… yes.. Monique is a new girl… A fine choice…. And at 1 shelling …. A great value too” the fat lady beamed at the General and the Major as he ascended the stairs into the trailer.

“This shall be fun….. You’re a wicked man” the fat woman teased the major as she grabbed the neck of the countess and pulled her over as then whispered:

“You ain’t to say one bloody word…. The general is going fuck your cunny and anything else he wants too…. I got Marg under the bed she’ll be doing all the talking for you… If you speak even once… apart from your moaning and groaning at the right times…. She’ll inform me… and I’ll declare you to be a spy … and you’ll no doubt be shot tonight…. They’ll be thinking you set out to kill the general… and I’ll be a heroine for saving him... You make sure you moan and groan whether you want to or not... Keep the old fool happy!".

“Up you go Monique!” the fat lady called out as she slapped the rear end of the countess and directed her up the stairs to the little trailer. Nervously the countess entered the trailer which was now darker given the fading day’s light. A flap was closed over the entrance and the available light disappeared and everything became dark.

The countess hesitated for a moment as she tried to get her bearings. The voice of the general was old but refined as he called out softly in a thick English accent:

“Where are you lass?”

“Oh yes... Mon seigneur...I’m coming” the soft female voice from under the bed called out but the general had no idea that another woman was hidden under the bed. The woman under the bed had pretended to speak with a French accent which seemed very crude to the Countess. But to the near deaf general it sounded like perfect peasant French.

The countess moved closer to the bed unsure of what to do next or what to expect.

“Mon seigneur... What can I do to please you tonight? Only a shilling .. Oui oui... You fuck me... I make you happy ...very very happy mon seigneur” the soft feminine voice from under the bed called out.

The countess wanted to run from the trailer and take her chances but she knew the major and others were just waiting for her to run. They’d grab her and arrest her before she even made it to the river. If they caught her, they’d accuse her of being a spy and no doubt they would shoot her. Fearing the consequence of the major and the fat English woman, the countess made a point of sitting on the bed beside the old general.

“Let me get a good feel of you” the general announced as he pulled the countess closer in the dark and then began to run his down her face and then neck, then across her ample breasts and stomach.

He's so old... and gross the countess thought secretly.

“You are a buxom lass…. Now let’s get you out those clothes” a happy general spoke confidently.

“Oui.. oui... mon seigneur” responded the voice under the bed. When the countess hesitated she felt a kick from under the bed to her foot. So in the darkness of the trailer, she pulled off her white peasant blouse and then slipped out of her coarse black wool skirt. She felt cheap. She hoped her husband - dead in grave couldn't see her from heaven. This was so humiliating.

“Over her lass… Let’s get a better look” the general announced in a happy voice as the countess moved closer to him and he again reached over and this time pulled her beside him on the bed as he lay down. Their eyes had been more accustomed to the light and they could see the soft shapes of each other and each other's face.

“Oh you are so soft… What big tits you have… Oh yessss… and a furry pubic mound too... I like a girl like that... You frenchies... made for fucking” the old general announced as his hands now roamed across the countess’ body. She was shocked to be handled in such a manner, yet alone to hear these words from such a man. His hands returned to her breasts and now he massaged them and then cupped them. But she didn't pull back.

“Thank’ee your Lordship.. Oui... oui... touch them... play with em… touch em… hold em… lick em or bite em ... mon seigneur” the woman under the bed called out much to the annoyance of the countess. In response the general lay the countess on her back and took the opportunity to tease the fresh young nipples with his old tongue and to work her soft delicate flesh with his old rough hands.

This is disgusting… This man is a pig… and not a gentleman… The woman under bed is a strumpet of the darkest kind the Countess thought to herself as she now pretended to moan softly.

In truth, her nipples were slowly growing erect under the constant teasing of the General’s tongue, the soft twisting of her nipples with his old rough fingers, and lastly he started to suck on her nipples. It was frightening to the countess that her body was responding to his attention.

The soft moans from the throat of the countess cued the girl under the bed to call out:

“Can I work your pecker your Lordship…. My cunny is getting hungry for your big cock…" the woman under the bed had forgotten to even pretend to be French but the general didn't notice. He pulled the countess' mouth to the crotch of his pants. The countess worked his breeched and freed his old cock. To her surprise it was hot and not exactly limp.

It he countess a good ten minutes to get the erection and full and hard. Several times she had wanted to stop and abandon the effort by the old general kept praising her tonguing efforts and so she continued as the old man continued to tease her nipples and breasts. He was yelling out in delight and the countess wished she could get him quiet.

The voice under the bed called out:

"It's so big mon seigneur... I shall ride your pecker like a horse"

The general needed no more encouragement as lay on his back and forced the countess to straddle his erection and then he pushed it deep within her wet pussy. It slid in easily. Seconds later the countess was riding up and down on his small erect cock. The general was screaming in delight....

"You ride a mean cock!" laughed the general as he hung onto her big tits as she now bobbed up on down like a rider in a fast gallop.

"Oooooooooo...Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa" Angelique screamed out as the pleasure overtook her senses. The feeling was delightful though her bum ached each time she crashed onto the general. Controlling the motion she was able to satisfy her own lusty needs whie entertaining and delighting the general. As she began to buck harder and harder on the general's cock, her loud screams of passion could be heard outside the trailer and triggered a number of giggles and snickers. The trailer was shacking from the rough motion of their bodies pounding on top of the bed.

"harder... plus forte" the voice under the bed called out.

The general pulled hard on the countess' ass, and as he cock penetrated deeper still, she reached her own orgasm and drenched his cock with her love juices. Seconds later, the general returned the favour and filled her with three small loads of his hot seed. His body shook and for a moment the countess thought the general was dead for he lay completely still.

Both were exhausted and panting, and as the countess rolled beside him on the bed, they both heard laughing and giggling outside the tent.