Long-awaited continuation of this series, back by popular demand. I truly appreciate all of your kind comments as well as your patience. Thanks for the motivation, Decadentdessert!
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John contemplated for a moment before shackling the twenty-two-year old to the bedpost at the bottom of the bed. "To the north," John mumbled, almost to himself. Mandy was distracted in post-orgasmic bliss, and as such, was not an attentive listener. Her throbbing pussy was rendering the remainder of her senses moot.
"I want your head facing to the north," he said to his somewhat oblivious one-woman audience as he stroked his thick cock slowly back to life, admiring the nubile captive's sensational hard, young body. "I am going to attack you from the south first."
He assured her wrists were bound only loosely within the handcuffs, so that he had some leverage to maneuver her torso as he wished. Mandy's small hands were pulled directly over her head so that she could offer not even token resistance. Not that she wanted to. Mandy deserved to be disciplined, in her own mind.
In fact, that was why she was here, she rationalized through her fog. To be disciplined, to be taught. To be the prey in a two-person game of hunter-gatherer.
Mandy was already deep in the throes of a phenomenon commonly referred to as the Stockholm Syndrome, which, granted, was not diagnosed until a hundred years after the Civil War. Mandy's prison term was self-imposed, and she definitely had developed positive feelings towards her captor, to the point where she could empathize with any action that he would take towards her. She deserved this, she knew.
John spread Mandy's slim legs as wide as they could go. She was now spread-eagled in a corner of the huge king bed, John's muscular, mature frame hovering menacingly above her. He climbed in between her ankles, wrapping her calves around his own as he did so, so that she was in a crab-like position, tethered to his lower half.
"The Battle of Manassas....," John began slowly, banging his rapidly stiffening dick on Mandy's hard clit, poking out between her swollen labia, "....was actually two separate confrontations, Miss Sinclair. And it is also commonly referred to as Bull Run." Mandy squirmed beneath John now, her brain beginning to grasp that her body was about to embark on a perilous mission. John strummed Mandy's oyster-like pearl nub with his thumb while positioning his huge sheath at the desired target.
He continued, almost mockingly, knowing the little slut was now keenly aware just how formidable an adversary she had unwittingly chosen. "Accordingly, to properly commemorate both the occasion of the two distinct battles as well as the aptly named moniker, I will fuck you like a bull, and take both your tight young cunt and your even tighter asshole." Mandy shuddered, both in arousal and anxiety. She longed for this big cannon to split apart her needy pussy. But, her ass? God, this man's tree-stump of a cock would rip her asunder. She groaned. Be careful what you wish for.
He tenderly propped two pillows under her head, to cushion the blows of the assault that her skull would absorb as it would soon be banging against the unrelenting bedpost. Hardwood on one side, hardwood on the other, he chuckled to himself as he eased his engorged cockhead into the slippery, humid slit of the handcuffed woman twenty-eight years his junior.
The march inside of Mandy's hot cunt began excruciatingly slowly, John orchestrating the advance with measured calm. He had already correctly calculated that his young guest would need time to acclimate to the mighty girth. His cockhead alone was approximately the dimension of Mandy's fist. He reached over to grab a Confederate hat off of the nightstand. John liked to fill his inn with little nik-naks like that. He figured it had never been used quite like this before, as he pulled the hat down tightly over Mandy's forehead, essentially shutting off her vision. She bit her lips as his weapon snaked deeper into Mandi's sopping cunt, now flowing like the Potomac.
Half-inch by half-inch, with quick accelerating thrusts accompanied by little-girl-like screeches from Mandy, he plunged his oar deeper into the warm depths of young Mandy's river, moving his pelvis so that he was basically paddling his prodigious dick inside of her. Mandy struggled to match her captor's gyrations, lifting her slim hips off of the mattress to meet his descents with ascents of her own. Blind as she was now, it felt like a plunger submerging into her narrow, sticky channel. The grunts emanating from her mouth sounded foreign to her, like someone else's cheesy sound track overlaid in a porn movie.
John grinned down at the blindfolded, handcuffed and helpless Mandy. Her glorious young tits jiggled and bounced in tandem with his insertions into her gash. There was now a milky veneer of nectar oozing from the cunt each time he withdrew out of her snatch, virtually drizzling onto his shaft, coating it with a shear sheen of her moisture. He felt her cunt muscles clenching around his cock, desperate to fully accept his thick saber. His blunt bayonet now was almost fully immersed into her muggy, sodden hole. It was time to pick up the pace, to determine just how much Mandy could handle.
"Don't resist," he forewarned his bound captive. "This is going to hurt a bit at first," he almost whispered. Normally, John took no pleasure in inflicting discomfort on a woman's vagina. He was used to letting his conquests get accustomed to his size before really fucking them savagely. But Mandy, no longer the confident cocky visitor who thought she was going to fuck the older man into submission, had this coming to her. And, after all, he reasoned, she was given fair notice. He was most clearly in unequivocal control of this war of the genitals.
Mandy's head thrashed from side to side, knocking the hat into the bedpost time and again as John's mighty accoutrements of cock and balls slammed into her fortress. Any pretense of defense by Mandy was shattered as her cervix was assaulted relentlessly. With each piercing insertion and exertion of his musket, Mandy felt as if her now impossibly stretched pussy was being fragmented. Her fragile piece of pussy porcelain was effectively being splintered into tatters. Countless rockets' red glare flashed in front of her covered eyelids.
