The sound of ringing steel echoed through the barn along with the gasping of two people laboring for breath. Abigail Durham and her father George sparred with their practice swords, sweating and panting as they danced and dodged each others thrusts. George cried out in surprise when his 18 year old daughter parried his stroke and tapped his forearm with her blade.
“I’ve finally marked you, Father!” she cried in victory and he smiled at her sheepishly. He was so proud of his beautiful protégée. Abby was his only child and she was the light of his life. Her mother had died three years ago of consumption and he still mourned her daily. Abby had always been a sort of tomboy and eagerly took to learning marksmanship as well as swordsmanship, of which she excelled like no other person he knew except himself. An exceedingly rare thing in the late 1700’s for a woman to be interested in to be sure, but he paid it no mind. Since she could walk he’d taken her on hunts with him, along with long trips on the road to visit cities scattered through the colony of Virginia as he conducted his business of growing and marketing tobacco.
The Revolutionary War was closing in on them rapidly and being a man of action and quite well educated, he predicted a long and bloody road in their future. Since his wife had died he’d poured his heart and soul into preparing for the rough days ahead. With Abby’s assistance he’d scouted out several small limestone caves within several miles of their plantation and staged provisions in case they were forced to abandon their home and hearth. Chief among their treasured items was gunpowder, bullets for their firearms, and foodstuffs such as beans, rice, and smoke preserved meats. They also had clothing, bedding, and various tools they may need for the future scattered throughout their various caches. He’d even gone so far as to draw up detailed maps and demanded Abby commit the locations to memory.
Just before his wife had died, his brother William had moved in with them to help out with the plantation. George saw it as a gift because William’s wife, Rose, was quite a bit younger than him and closer to Abby’s age than his own. In fact she’d been 21 years old to Abby’s 15 at the time. She was quite instrumental in raising Abby into a promising young lady over the last three years. As a result, Abby could be right at home with the highest of the local society, not giving the least impression that she could outshoot and out sword fight any man she might happen upon.
The rumble of far off cannon fire seemed to draw closer every day, increasing George’s anxiety for the safety of his family and his beloved workers who labored in his fields. He had learned a great deal of compassion from his wife and as a result treated his slaves far better than most owners. His plantation home was small and modest by the day’s standards, simply because he chose to invest in decent housing for his slaves. In fact, the slave cabins were nicer by far than most white folk’s homes in the area, garnering some jealousy to say the least. The title “Master” was forbidden to be spoken. He was simply “Mr Durham” to his workers while Abby was referred to as “Missy” and she was beloved by them all.
“Can we go another round?” Abby asked happily, pleased that she’d scored a hit on her father.
“I’d love to dear, but I think I it’s nearly dinner time. Go get cleaned up and we’ll meet in the dining room.”
“Yes, Papa.” She kissed him sweetly on his cheek and set off for the house while he watched her departing figure with a worried frown. He wasn’t normally a man to harp on his feelings, but deep in his gut he knew bad things were on the not so distant horizon. When Abby reached the house, her quadroon maid, June, had a tub of hot water ready for her.
“Have you been fighting with your Pappy again?” June asked teasingly.
“Yes, we were sparring a bit and I scored a hit on him, my first one!” Abby said excitedly. June clapped her hands joyfully.
“Well done, Missy! I’m sure your Pappy is mighty proud of you. Now strip down little lady and let me scrub you up nice and clean.”
Obediently, Abby complied, dropping her trousers and blouse into a heap while June shook her head in disapproval.
“I’ll never know why your Pappy lets you dress like that. You should be all dolled up in a pretty dress and making eyes at the local boys out there!” June said in a stern voice, but Abby saw a twinkle in her gaze and she smiled mischievously.
“I can’t ride, shoot, and sword fight with a dress on June, you know that, silly lady!”
She lowered herself in the tub, hissing as the hot water burned her little butt cheeks. June watched with a critical eye. Her little ward was growing up quickly. Long wavy blonde hair topped her fine head and flowed down over her pale shoulders nearly to her waist. Her bottom had filled out and her once small breasts were now large and firm, her tight nipples pointed proudly skyward from her small ribcage. She was nearly five foot four inches tall and weighed about 105 pounds soaking wet. Thanks to her relatively new friend, Rose, she’d taken to shaving her legs and armpits, an up and coming trend among ladies and one her father heartily agreed with. He was a firm believer in a lady being a lady, especially when in public. His wife had been a beautiful woman whom he’d been proud to show off on his arm for many years.
June quickly bathed and shaved her with accomplished ease. She took care of Rose as well most evenings, never telling Abby that Rose kept her pubic area shaved clean for her husband. Some things must be kept private, June figured to herself.
After dinner, the men retired to the parlor and asked the girls to join them, which was entirely out of character Abby thought with surprise. Speaking in an authoritative tone, George addressed them.
“War is coming to us all, I hate to say. The British are on their way through here and there’s little we can do. Hopefully some local militias can turn the tide but I doubt it. William and I have spoken at length about it and have come to a decision. We will stand and fight when the time comes. We’ll lose the slaves whenever they desire. They can leave now if they like.”
As if punctuating his sentence, a roll of cannon fire sounded in the distance.
Abby started to speak but her father raised his hand to silence her.
“There will be no discussion. Abby and Rose, you two will head for the forests when I command, use our caches and caves to subsist until things improve for the better. I believe our side will win in time, but short term it will be a terrible thing.”
Abby flung herself in his arms and tried protesting but he would have none of it. It broke his heart to treat her so but he knew it must be done.
William drew Rose onto his lap and comforted her as she sobbed on his shoulder. George continued.
“Abby, starting tomorrow you’ll be ready to evacuate at a moment’s notice. Keep your squirrel rifle handy and your horse in the small barn near the tree line. You do the same, Rose.”
A couple of years ago, the brothers had Kentucky rifles made for the girls. They were in.32 caliber and shortened both at the stock and barrel so they could handle them more adroitly. Rose was a decent shot while Abby was absolutely deadly with hers out to nearly 300 yards. Rose had hunted a bit with hers but never really enjoyed it. Abby had harvested several deer and turkey and had no qualms about filling the larder with fresh meat.
George continued instructing his family for nearly an hour, preparing them for the worst. Finally, he sent them off to bed while he and William had another drink and smoked their pipes in the light of the oil lamps.
Sometime in the night a particularly loud boom of cannon fire awoke Abby and she noticed a faint glow in the night sky coming through her window. She wrapped herself in her night robe and sneaked down the hallway so she could watch from the porch. A faint cry robbed her attention and she listened attentively. It seemed to be coming from William and Rose’s room. She tiptoed to their door and noticed it was open a crack. She peered in, and in the faint light of a guttering candle witnessed a sight like she’d never seen or heard of.
William and Rose were both naked atop the bed covers and his face was buried between Rose’s thighs. Her hands were twisted in his hair and she was moaning in what sounded like pain. Abby was immediately concerned for Rose, what was he doing to her! She was ready to rush to her defense until she heard Rose cry out his name in rapture.
“Oh yes, Willy! Just there, please don’t stop!”
Abby was wide eyed in amazement as her friend and confidant exploded in orgasm on her husband’s tongue. She watched in building curiosity when William raised himself up and caught his stiff cock in his hand, stroking it lightly while he positioned himself between Rose’s legs. Abby’s breath hitched and she gasped aloud at her first sight of a cock. She quickly covered her mouth, afraid the couple had heard her. Apparently not, because they kept on with their lovemaking. When he lowered himself and speared deep inside Rose, Abby felt an electric shock go through her and she felt a hot feeling surge through her groin. He looked intimidating down there, yet Rose seemed to enjoy what he was doing! She clasped her hands under his bottom and urged him deeper with contented sighs.
Abby was almost beside herself and was feeling some decidedly different emotions. She’d thought about sex of course but had always been so busy playing at tomboy that she’d never really dwelled on it much. Contributing to that was probably the lack of men her age on the plantation, other than slaves of course, and they held no interest to her other than as good friends. William drew her attention when he spoke to Rose in a strained voice.
“How would you like me to spend myself, dear?”
“Let me taste you tonight, honey. Use my mouth, please!” she managed to gasp out as William fucked her with increasing speed and violence.
Abby watched attentively as he suddenly pulled free and slid up Rose’s quivering body to stroke himself to completion. A loud gasp came from the doorway when Rose opened her mouth and William sprayed her tongue with hot cum. His taut buttocks clenched repeatedly as he unloaded down his wife’s throat. She swallowed all he had to offer, then pulled him closer so she could take his modest length in her mouth. Abby couldn’t believe what she was seeing and hearing. Rose was moaning around her mouthful of spent cock while William reached back between her legs and finger fucked her to another satisfying orgasm.
Sensing the end was near, Abby quietly slipped back to her room and burrowed under her covers, her mind awash with the exciting scene she’d just witnessed. It took many hours before her fevered mind allowed her to fall asleep.
The next day Abby took Rose aside and asked her a few questions about sex, which aroused her suspicion.
“I’m pretty sure I heard you outside our door last night, that’s true isn’t it?” Rose asked her with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.
“Yes, it was me,” Abby answered guiltily. “I heard you when I was up and just had to see what you were doing.”
“Did you like what you saw?”
“At first I thought Uncle William was hurting you! Then I heard you call his name and cup his head in your hands and I knew you were ok.”
“Oh yes, I was fine. It feels wonderful when a man licks you down there.”
Abby felt a shiver run up her back at the thought of a man doing such a naughty thing to her. She couldn’t imagine! In the past Rose had tried to instruct her on matters pertaining to procreation but she’d shown little interest until now. Hearing about it in dry terms was somewhat boring, seeing it in action was another thing entirely, she thought to herself.
“Why did he squirt you in the mouth with that stuff? Does it taste good? Did you like it?” she asked in curiosity.
“He did it because I asked him to. It tasted a little salty usually, and I did like it. It’s the seed that makes little babies and if it’s near the time of the month I may get pregnant, I have him shoot in my mouth or on my breasts. He absolutely loves doing it.”
Abby pursed her lips thoughtfully, “Do you think I’m pretty enough for a man to want me like that?”
“Oh, honey. You’re absolutely beautiful! Any man would be proud to have you. When we dress up and go to parties or the Christmas ball, haven’t you noticed the young gentlemen fawning over you?”
“I guess so, over the last couple years they’re always looking at my chest, it’s rather irritating when they speak to my bosom.”
Rose giggled in delight. “That’s what men do when they want you. You have no idea how gorgeous you really are, dear Abby. There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t roll you in the hay!”
“Aunty Rose, shame on you!” Abby laughed, but inside she felt the same shivery sensation she’d experienced last night and a hint of moisture dampened her thighs. Suddenly, a bold idea struck her. She took pride in excelling at everything that interested her, why not sex as well?
“Will you help me get ready to be with a man, just in case it ever happens? I don’t want to be caught unawares. Please teach me everything you know.”
“I’d be happy to, just don’t tell the men, we’d get in so much trouble!” Rose laughed gaily. “Let’s talk about it while we move our horses to the barn like your father instructed.”
After they did so Abby went searching for her father. She found him in the workshop toiling diligently. He was packing large flower pots with blackpowder and horseshoe nails, sealing them tightly with hot wax then replacing the flowers and soil atop the explosive. He explained that he planned to set them next to the benches that lined the drive near the shade trees. The slaves used them to relax on when they took breaks from working the tobacco fields. When the redcoats came he hoped to detonate them and cause as many casualties as possible. Abby gazed at her father in a new light and he noticed her expression when she realized the deviousness of his plan.
“We do what we must, Abby. They’d rather kill us than keep us as prisoners and use up their valuable supplies. I plan to return the favor. The bloodier we make it for them the sooner they’ll return to their country.” She nodded in understanding.
“I want to fight with you, Father, please let me!” she begged. He looked at her closely. He knew she would be a huge asset but he couldn’t bear losing her. Against his better judgement he chose to take a calculated risk.
“I’ll let you stay and fight until I order you to leave. At that moment, you obey me immediately and without question. Do you understand me?” he said in his sternest voice.
“Oh yes, Papa!” She flew into his arms and hugged him tightly. He was glad she couldn’t see the tears gathering in his eyes.
“We start setting up our trap today, honey. Go get Rose and you two can help me out.”
He set up targets where each of the flower pots would be and had Abby go to the upper story of the house and fire down on them until she was comfortable with the range. The targets started at 300 yards out and were staged at the sitting benches up to 100 yards from the front porch. She used both hers and Rose’s rifles, firing as fast as Rose could reload which took her as long as 45 seconds. When George was satisfied, he installed his flower pots at the benches, then he filled buckets with caltrops he’d had the local blacksmith make. When the British troops arrival was imminent, he’d scatter them on the road between his home and the ambush site, in order to slow any troops that leaked through, thereby allowing the people in the house more time to rain fire down on their enemies.
That evening after dinner he took Abby to the work shop and he presented her with a gift. It was a rapier that was shorter and lighter than most, essentially made for a small man or woman. Her hand fit the grip wonderfully and the cupped hilt would protect her hand from a counter slash. Abby was beside herself with joy! The leather scabbard she drew it from had gold fasteners and a wide belt that fit her lithe waist perfectly.
“Careful now,” he cautioned. “It’s razor sharp and will kill a man in an instant. It has blood grooves on each side to break the suction of a man’s flesh so you can remove it easier. Stab, twist, and pull, like so!” With a flourish he drew his own sword, mimicking his instructions. She clapped her hands and drew him into a thankful hug.
“Oh Papa, you’re the best ever!” she exclaimed with tears in her eyes.
“Let’s get some rest, honey. Tomorrow will be another long day.” he said quietly.