Anonymous - The memoirs of Dolly Morton

And he added: This’ll be the first time, to my knowledge, that I’ve ever had a buttered bun.

He then got on the bed between my widely stretched legs, but he did not at once attack me like his predecessor. Turning to the other two men, who were looking on grinning, he said: I always like to play with a woman before poking her. Then he played with me, feeling my breasts with both hands and sucking the nipples one after the other.

Now he passed his hands over every part of my body, stroking my thighs, pinching my bottom and pulling the hair on my spot. Finally he thrust his finger deeply inside me, hurting me dreadfully and making me utter a shriek. My body quivered and I entreated him not to torture me in such a way.

Removing his finger, Jackson now inserted his member-(I made no useless resistance this time)- and with some difficulty forced the enormous engine into place. Then, gripping me firmly with his hands under my bottom, he began to poke me slowly with long thrusts, each time drawing the dart out till only the tip was left between the lips, then driving it in again with great force, each tremendous dig shaking me all over and making me wince. Since the parts were stretched to the utmost by the great size of the column as it worked up and down inside me, I suffered considerably and uttered tortured cries of pain.

Jackson spun the affair out as long as he possibly could, while I lay groaning in misery under the terrible battering. Oh! It was horrible!

At last he quickened his movements. Then, in a few seconds, he spent, and the jets of fluid spurted up me while I heaved a sigh of relief as I felt his great thing shrink in size inside the folds of my spot. My disgust was increasing.

He withdrew, saying: Well, she certainly ain’t much of a poke, but she’s got a nice little

’spot’ and my big ’thing’ made her squeak, as I said it would. Then turning to the third man, he said laughing: But you’ll be able to get into her easy enough, Tom. She’s well greased by this time.

The man laughed, saying: Yes, her rolls are well buttered. Then he prepared himself, and I saw that he was the smallest made of the three, though the instrument he displayed was in full readiness for the assault.

He lost no time in preliminaries, but at once laid himself down on me and with his two forefingers separated the lips of the spot. Then he penetrated me without the least difficulty and began to poke me quietly, but with plenty of vigor, so that in a few seconds I was for the third time deluged with hot juices. Again I suffered a sickening sensation of disgust.

The villain now got off me without making any remark, and I thought that the horrible ordeal was over and that the men would release me. But, to my horror, they did not, though I begged them piteously to let me go.

We’ve not done with you, my girl, said Jackson, smiling evilly.

Leaving me tied up on the bed, weeping and shivering with shame and despair, the men now filled their pipes and, sitting down on stools, chatted coolly with each other about the way I had behaved while being poked. While they talked, they gazed at my naked, palpitating body.

When they had smoked their pipes, they came to the bedside again.

Faint and sick with disgust, shame, fear and horror, I wailed pitifully, beseeching them to have mercy on me and not to touch me again, saying that it would kill me. I might have spared my breath. They only laughed and Jackson observed that a woman could take twenty men without being a bit the worse. Again I begged and abjectly prayed them to let me go, but nothing moved the brutes. They had neither pity nor compassion.

However, I need not enter further into the details of my martyrdom; it will suffice to say that all three poked me again, one after the other, and, when the last man had withdrawn his member from my quivering body, the receptacle was filled to overflowing by the six copious inundations which it had received.

I was by this time in a half-fainting state; there was a cold sweat on my forehead, my flesh was bruised by the rough way I had been handled and my whole body was jerking convulsively, while unutterable disgust and loathing overwhelmed me.

The knaves now unfastened my wrists and ankles, which had red marks around them where the ropes had chafed the skin. Then Jackson threw a blanket over my naked body, telling me that I might go to sleep if I could, as they had got as much out of me as they wanted. Drawing the blanket over my head, I huddled myself up, crying miserably. The men took no further notice of me, but sat smoking and talking in low tones for about half an hour. Then, leaving the lamp burning, they threw themselves, still wearing their clothes, upon the other beds. In a short time, I knew by their snoring that they were fast asleep.

My mouth was dreadfully parched and my spot was throbbing painfully. I wanted a drink, so, slipping quietly off the bed, I got a tin cup and, going to the bucket of water, quenched my thirst. Then I bathed the red and swollen lips of the spot and washed from my body all outward traces of the horrible pollution. This accomplished, I dressed myself in my tumbled garments and lay down again upon the bed, hoping to forget in sleep the horrors through which I had passed.

But, though I was physically and mentally worn out, sleep would not come to me. I shall never forget the misery of the long night I spent in that shanty, tossing and turning on the dirty bed. I was feverish at one moment and chilly the next But all the time I felt sick with disgust. Moreover, I was haunted by a dreadful fear that the wretches might not let me go in the morning.

I don’t think that I ever once lost consciousness during the weary hours, and I thought that the morning would never come. But at last I saw the welcome daylight showing through the clinks in the shutter. Presently the men woke and, getting off the beds, stood yawning and stretching for a moment or two. Then, looking at me, they laughed, making remarks about my pale cheeks and red eyes, while I lay in dire suspense, fearing that one or other of the ruffians would take it into his head to poke me again. But to my intense relief no one touched me.

The window was opened and a fire was lighted. Some bacon was fried and a pot of coffee was made. Then the men sat down to breakfast, ordering me to sit at the other side of the table and join them in their meal. With downcast eyes and flaming cheeks, I seated myself opposite the three brutes who had outraged me so shamefully, and, since I was very faint, I tried to eat a bit of bread, but it stuck in my throat. However I managed to drink a pannikin of the milk-less coffee, which, bad as it was, refreshed me a little.

When the meal was over and the men had lighted their pipes, I raised my eyes and, addressing Jackson, reminded him of his promise to let me go. Oh, do please let me go, I pleaded earnestly, bursting into tears and stretching my hands towards him appealingly. You have nearly killed me. Surely you won’t be so cruel as to keep me.

He looked at me for a short time and my heart seemed to stand still. At last he said: You are a pretty girl, and, though you are a bad poke, you are better than nothing. We’d like to keep you for further doings, but you’d be in our way, so we’ll let you go. I’ll put you through the woods to the road, and then you can either go back to Woodlands or run to Richmond. Both are the same distance away, about sixteen miles. You can come along at once if you like.

A dreadful weight was lifted from my heart, and I rose from my seat eagerly. Oh, I am quite ready to start, I said.