Belinda (18 page)

‘You are enjoying that,' the doctor stated rather than asked, his eyes unblinking.

Belinda looked at him. ‘Yes,' she said clearly. ‘It feels lovely.'

The doctor stood and nodded as though something was formulating in his mind. ‘Given the current situation, with whom would you rather be; Nurse Lucy – a woman, or me – a male?'

Belinda moaned as Lucy massaged her other breast. ‘That's not a fair question,' she protested.

‘Whom?' persisted the doctor, placing his notes on the chair.

He was stirring dormant desires within Belinda that she had always kept suppressed; refusing to accept the possibility that they could ever exist, let alone be accepted. Did she really prefer women to men? She had felt immense affection, bordering on sexual attraction, towards some females it was true. Helle for example. But that was surely a perfectly natural inclination – wasn't it? Oh, she was so confused. ‘I couldn't say,' she whispered as she writhed under the lovely nurse.

The doctor approached the bed and pulled his semi-erect penis out of his trousers. ‘Try,' he urged.

Belinda gazed at the pulsing flesh and couldn't deny her desire to feel it, either in her mouth or between her legs. ‘Both,' she compromised. ‘I would like to be with you both equally.'

The doctor smiled with satisfaction. ‘Just as I predicted.'

Belinda barely heard him any longer such was the pleasure she was enjoying from the clever Lucy and the sight of that thickening stalk.

‘Now,' he continued anyway. ‘We're going to perform a technique which has always proved extremely successful in the past. It is to teach you self-denial.' Belinda was beyond caring what they did as more of her breast disappeared inside Lucy. ‘Nurse Lucy… are you ready?'

‘Yes doctor,' she said, and to Belinda's immense disappointment she climbed off her and lay by her side. Although so tantalisingly close there was not one inch of their bodies that touched. Belinda yearned to feel her feminine softness again.

The doctor placed a cushion under Belinda's head enabling her to see more, and then checked the silky bonds that held her wrists and ankles apart. When satisfied he undressed, flaunting his surprisingly fit body before the trussed girl, and then stood over her with his penis bobbing above her red face. ‘Nurse Lucy and I are going to indulge ourselves now. You will watch. Do you understand?'

Belinda was mortified. She was so acutely excited, and now she had to suffer the indignity and frustration of watching these two enjoying the delights she so desperately wanted – and needed. This was so unfair!

The doctor, still smiling enigmatically, moved around the bed and gently pulled Lucy's ankles apart. The oriental beauty lay passively staring at Belinda as he climbed between her legs and knelt, aiming his penis at her silky black pubes. Without any hesitation he lowered himself and entered his assistant with one effortless thrust. Lucy's eyes closed in unison with the entry, and when he was fully embedded they opened again and stared mistily at the girl by her side, a slight smile dancing across her lips. Belinda's fingers clenched and unclenched and she tensed in the frustrating bonds. She despised the two for teasing her so, but she could not tear her eyes away from the wonderfully erotic display. She wondered how many women had suffered this torment on this very same bed before her. She hated the doctor and his nurse… but she wanted them – both.

The doctor made love to Lucy slowly and for a long, long time. Belinda marvelled at his stamina and powers of self-control. She watched mesmerised as his bottom rose and fell majestically without faltering. A glossy sheen gradually coated their bodies. The doctor first kissed Lucy's brow, then her cheeks, her chin, and then on down to her breasts and nipples. All the while her dreamy gaze searched Belinda's eyes and laid bare her very soul.

‘We will come now,' the doctor at last broke the magical silence, but Belinda wasn't sure which of them he was addressing. With that he increased the speed of his thrusts. Lucy arched and urged herself up to him. His buttocks hollowed, and he raised himself on straightened arms. Both he and Lucy watched Belinda, and then they shuddered together. No other expression of joy or delight was forthcoming. The lovemaking had been tender and highly erotic to watch, but the final release was clinical – as though they were concluding an experiment.

The doctor and Lucy climbed off the bed and dressed without a word to each other. The whole scene was bizarre, and Belinda felt her uncertainties returning.

‘Would you mind, Nurse Lucy?' the doctor said as he picked up his notes. With that the nurse moved beside Belinda, reached between her legs and rubbed her soaking and excited lips. Belinda was shocked to realise just how highly charged she was, and she exploded at the first delectable touch.

‘Very good,' the doctor said. ‘We are making progress. A few weeks here, my dear, and you'll be just fine.'

‘Sleep some more,' whispered Lucy. ‘It will soon be morning, and then we can continue with your treatment.' Belinda did not want to sleep; she was beginning to think she was here not for her own good, but for the selfish gratification of these two, but the gentle voice soothed her and she drifted away again…

When she awoke her limbs were free to move. She rose and stretched. Her clothes were laid on a chair, so she dressed and ventured off to explore – or perhaps to get away. How she could do that without a horse she wasn't sure, but perhaps an idea would develop. She heard voices and peeped around the overhang of rock. Curse it! The doctor and Nurse Lucy were in the main area, between her and the exit. Belinda crept as close as she could without being seen. The doctor was speaking.

‘She is an absolute dream, Lucy. We'll go through in a short while and proceed with the next stage.'

‘I can't wait,' cooed Lucy huskily.

‘Is everything ready?'

She grinned. ‘It is… more than ready.'

Belinda trembled. She didn't like the possible implications of what they were saying, or the lurid manner in which it was being said.

‘How long do you think we can keep her here?' said the doctor.

‘We can make it last a few weeks without suspicion,' replied the nurse with surprising authority. ‘You just be sure to keep finding new problems, and leave the rest to me. When I've finished the dear girl will not want to leave me.'

‘Excellent!' beamed the doctor.

Belinda's legs buckled upon hearing their conspiratorial exchange and she stumbled out into the open.

‘What?' The doctor spun to stare at her.

‘What are you doing there?!' snapped Lucy with a venom that shocked Belinda. ‘How much did you hear?' She approached the gawping girl menacingly.

‘I – I didn't hear anything!' blurted Belinda. ‘But I – I'm leaving, I'm afraid. I don't think I need your treatment any more. But thank you for everything, you have both been very kind, and I don't know what I would have done…' she knew she was rambling and stopped as Lucy snatched her arms.

‘You go when we say,' the oriental hissed. Her change of demeanour was difficult to accept. ‘You signed the consent form. That means you stay with us until we decide you can go.'

‘Everything all right here, doc?' boomed a voice from the entrance, and a man in a dusty blue uniform strode into the chamber.

‘Captain Harding!' stammered the doctor, trying to hide his agitation. He rose and enthusiastically shook the gloved hand of the cavalry officer. ‘Yes, of course, everything's fine. It's good to see you again. Come, take a seat – have a drink. Lucy, would you mind?'

Lucy threw Belinda a vicious warning stare and resumed her subservient deportment. She poured two whiskeys.

‘What you got there, doctor?' asked the heavily whiskered cavalry officer, looking at Belinda's short cowgirl skirt. ‘I never heard there was a circus around these parts,' he sneered sarcastically. A rugged and equally dusty Sergeant followed him in, and roared with laughter at his officer's immense wit and at Belinda's discomfort.

‘Sergeant Riley,' the doctor welcomed him with equal vigour as Lucy handed them each a drink. ‘You are looking well. I trust you enjoyed your leave?'

‘Ah, you should've been with us, doc,' boomed the Sergeant.

‘We stopped three nights at Golden Seat,' said the Captain. Belinda's heart thumped and she guiltily looked at the ground.

‘What a place, doctor,' laughed Riley.

‘Apparently we missed the best,' Harding continued. ‘There'd been a girl there who'd made quite a name for herself. Seems she was a bit of an expert at most anything a man could want.'

‘Yeah,' added Riley ruefully, ‘but she'd gone by the time we got there.'

The doctor noticed Belinda blushing brightly.

‘You should come with us next time, doc,' Riley winked. ‘You'd love it.'

‘Good heavens, no,' laughed the doctor. ‘A respectable man like me…?'

Belinda took a deep breath. ‘Which… which way are you going, please?' she asked timidly, spotting a chance to get away from the mad doctor and his nurse.

‘Back to Fort Choquaw,' answered Harding. ‘Four days' hard riding, but we got all the home comforts and it's mainly downhill now.'

‘Which direction would that be?' she asked politely. From the corner of her eye she saw the vile couple bristle.

‘Southwest, miss. Between the foot of the Rockies and the southern end of Death Valley.' He gazed at her thoughtfully – and appreciatively. ‘You're welcome to come along, if that's what you're getting at…'

There were four ordinary cavalry soldiers slouching outside as Belinda left the mountainside clinic with Harding and Riley. They were loafing by ten horses; one for each soldier and four spares that also carried their equipment and supplies.

The scruffy gang looked a thoroughly unsavoury and dangerous bunch, thought Belinda, but dangerous in a criminal rather than a military way. She decided that any one British Hussar could confidently take on the whole platoon. They looked like the sort of soldiers who might be very good at creeping up on someone and shooting or stabbing them in the back before running away. Or, more likely, just running away.

But they were spirited enough in raising a drooling hullabaloo when they lay their hungry eyes on Belinda, and the trooper who helped her onto one of the spare horses predictably took the opportunity to stuff his hand up the back of her skirt to molest her buttocks. She knew it was pointless to object, and decided it would be best to simply humour them and pander to their egos.

The doctor and his nurse had raised no objection when Belinda left, but then, how could they? They were clearly concerned for their image of respectability. At last she could afford a tiny smile – if only a smile of relief; she was riding southwest on a good horse, and she even had an armed escort of sorts, even if they were so obviously a gang of spineless ne'er-do-wells.

Her opinion of them did not improve during the first twenty-four hours. All day, and once camped, all evening, she was subjected to a barrage of sexual jokes, comments on her clothing, and various invitations to sample the sexual prowess of the troopers. She wished there could be a law against this persistent sort of verbal imposition, but knew that was an impossible dream. She was annoyed that the Captain was just as bad, albeit in a more educated way. She was also disturbed at the informality between the officer and his men, a further sign of an unsoldierly bearing. She feared he would not wield enough authority to protect her should they consider suiting lewd comment to unimaginable deed. On the other hand she did appreciate the blankets, beans, and hot coffee they provided in generous amounts.

At noon the next day her opinions toward them were unequivocally changed.

The breezeless heat had temporarily quietened their banter as they rode along, and Belinda was pondering her stay at the clinic. In spite of her disillusionment at the end, she still thought the doctor had delved skilfully into the deeper recesses of her mind. She felt different somehow; more aware perhaps. She didn't know what it was exactly.

She was wrenched ruthlessly from her thoughts by an arrow thudding into one of her horse's panniers, just by her knee. The sudden and terrible danger was immediately emphasised by a blood-curdling scream from behind. Her horse reared up violently, its eyes rolling, and Belinda clung around its neck for dear life. Despite her panic she realised the scream had come from the skinniest and most loathsome of the troopers as he galloped past her at breakneck speed, apparently without any consideration for his own safety. In no time he reached the wooded defile just ahead and in one graceful movement unsheathed a vicious knife and threw himself from his horse. The sun flashed off the broad blade as an Indian's throat was slashed from ear to ear, and then arched upwards to bury itself in the groin of another hideously painted warrior. Within seconds the rest of the troop had charged heads-down and hollering into the ambush area to clash ferociously with a dozen mounted Indians and more on foot. The motley patrol fought like Satan's own tigers, booting the running foe in the face whilst hurling themselves from their horses to bring down the mounted foe. The furious slaughter seemed to last for hours, but it was only a minute or so before the victorious troopers had killed thirteen of the ambushers and sent the remaining half a dozen galloping off in a panic. Even then three soldiers leapt onto their horses and chased the fleeing band. They shot another two before six rapid signal shots from the Captain's revolver summoned them back for fear of a further ambush.

Belinda regretted everything she had doubted about their military capabilities. These men had no concept of defence – they should have checked the narrow wooded passage – but with their proven instincts of pure attack caution was obviously irrelevant. Her own terror ebbing as the jubilant troopers cleared the track of bodies, it occurred to her that whilst the British Hussars planned carefully before going in to be killed, this lot just went in to be killed.

Suddenly they were heroes. Her heroes, because she would surely have been dead without them. Now everything she had loathed became noble. Scruffy they were, but she could now see their slouching and smirking were the relaxed signs of battle-hardened confidence. That night she insisted on boiling the beans and coffee while they had a deserved rest.

As the small group sat and lay quietly around the campfire, Belinda could see in their eyes that they were hoping to be rewarded for their valour; hoping she would show her appreciation. She was surprised that, apart from the previous verbal abuse and the hand up her skirt, they were not forcing themselves upon her. Had they done so she would have instinctively fought to repel them, but because they did not her own curiosity and excitement were building rapidly. Increasingly she was hoping they would make advances, and fought to suppress a shiver of anticipation when they at last did so.

‘Hey, girl,' Riley broke the silence. ‘Are you going to grant us knightly champions of your honour a little thank you, or what?'

All eyes, including the Captain's, were on her. Why should she withhold her favours from brave men who had saved her life when she had already given those same favours to the world's lowest vermin? She studied each man pensively. They were certainly nothing to look at and their bodily odour left much to be desired, but their unexpected daring gave them a sexual quality she found highly electrifying and could not deny. ‘Yes…' she whispered above the crackle and spits of the fire, ‘…of course I will.'

The soldiers deliberately slowed their journey to give them time to extract as much pleasure from it as possible. Captain Harding said he would report to the Colonel that the Indians had held them up for two days.

Eventually they were out of the Rocky Mountains and riding across a great plain. Belinda was concerned to notice an increasing tension amongst her courageous and wonderfully virile companions. They consistently asked the Captain if he was sure he could cover up for their being two days overdue. He assured them he would deal with the Colonel, but there was an uneasy edge to his voice too.

They rode across the plain for most of the day and then, towards the end of the afternoon, Belinda made out the fort shimmering in the distant heat.

‘Just remember you're a civilian and you don't have to answer any of the Colonel's questions,' Harding told her. ‘Leave all the talking to me.'

Soon they were within half a mile of the crude wooden stronghold set in the middle of nowhere, and Belinda squinted at the welcoming party standing at the open gates. ‘Indians!' she screamed and turned in horror to Captain Harding. ‘The fort's been overrun by Indians!' She was panic-stricken. Their refuge was in the hands of savages who would surely murder them all. Even the courage and skill of her escort would be no match for large numbers on this open ground.

‘Don't worry,' he chuckled. ‘They're friendly.'

‘Oh,' said Belinda, feeling silly.

It certainly was a dishevelled rabble of natives that parted to allow the party through the large gates. She had never seen such miserable faces. Men and women were almost identical, dressed from neck to toe in smelly suede skins, with greasy plaited hair. The doleful children looked hungry and unwashed.

There was no sign of any other soldiers in the fort as the party rode slowly to a wooden building that stood out from the rest because of its short flight of steps up to the door and the flags that hung limply on either side of the entrance. There was a tense atmosphere as the four troopers formed a straight rank with the Captain and the Sergeant to the front. Belinda, sitting on her horse to one side, wanted to ask what was going on, but dare not. The silence was almost deafening as they waited, and then the door burst open and the Colonel stomped out – a terrifying figure of a man.

Smartly dressed in grey trousers beneath a long blue jacket, he fixed his cold dark eyes on Captain Harding.

‘Patrol returning from leave Colonel!' the Captain barked, saluting smartly.

The Colonel returned the salute with equal briskness, but did not reply. He stared hard at the Captain, and then at Belinda. His expressionless eyes flitted over her breasts and legs. They unnerved her greatly.

‘You are two days overdue, Captain Harding,' he growled menacingly.

‘Yes sir! Delayed by savages, sir!'

‘Delayed by savages for two days?'

‘Yes sir!' The Captain fixed his eyes over the Colonel's head at the building behind. ‘They had us pinned down, but we finally got the better of them – sir!'

‘So,' said the Colonel with a noticeable tone of disbelief. ‘You allowed yourself to be besieged for two days by a rabble of peasants, Captain?' Captain Harding looked ill at ease. ‘And where, precisely, did this siege take place? I can think of no suitable spot along that trail to hole up for two days.'

The Captain had not prepared his story well enough, and the Colonel continued to tear all excuses to shreds.

‘You were not besieged, Captain Harding, you were besotted,' said the Colonel with astounding astuteness. ‘This…' he waved his gloved hand dismissively towards Belinda and curled his lip contemptuously, ‘this female is why you and your troop have been absent without leave. And now she has compelled you to lie to a superior officer. Well, you've had your fun and now you must pay. The six of you will each publicly receive six lashes of the whip.'

Belinda was horrified at such unfair treatment. The exhausted men had protected her without due consideration for their own safety. Now she must reciprocate. ‘Colonel.' She cleared her throat and steeled herself. ‘If I may speak. These men fought with astonishing bravery – and won. Any subsequent dalliance on their part was entirely my fault and I beg you not to punish them for it.' She felt quite safe in accepting full responsibility, knowing that she was not subject to military law.

The Colonel stared at her with disgust. ‘I am fully aware of your role in this matter, madam, and I wish to discuss that with you. If, of course, you have no more interruptions to offer?'

Belinda shook her head. This man had an unnerving air of menace and penetrating perception. She could now see why the troopers were more afraid of him than they were of a gang of savages.

‘Kindly dismount and follow me,' he snapped. ‘The rest of you will dismiss and attend to your horses. You will muster here in precisely one hour to await your punishment.'

Belinda, flustered and apprehensive, hurried after the Colonel as he strode back into the building.

The interior was a single large room that incorporated his office, sitting room and bedroom. The walls were decorated with military and Indian memorabilia, and a stuffed wolf's head. He told Belinda to close the door behind her and, as she did so, took off his jacket and sat behind his desk. He lit a fat cigar and clamped it between white teeth. He fixed her with his gimlet eyes. Long minutes passed in silence.

‘A beautiful Englishwoman of less than twenty years old,' he eventually said quietly. ‘Wandering in the Rocky Mountains dressed in an astonishingly indecent and inappropriate manner. Would you care to explain yourself?'

‘Well sir,' began Belinda timidly, ‘it's an awfully long story, but I – I sort of lost my real clothes and these were all someone could spare me.' She could see her vagueness was not impressing him. ‘But the main thing is that I am trying to get to Los Angeles to find my uncle.'

‘What is your name, young lady?'

‘Belinda Hopeworth, sir,' she answered honestly.

‘Belinda Hopeworth – and you are looking for an uncle?' He folded his arms across his broad chest, leaned back in his chair, and blatantly studied her delicious curves more closely. He beckoned her to approach, and had her stand in front of his knees. He took her hands in his. ‘Belinda,' he said, ‘I think your search is over.'

Her heart leapt. ‘You mean… you mean you are my uncle?' she exclaimed with wide-eyed incredulity.

‘No,' he snorted, and a hint of humanity almost creased his stern face. ‘But I am an uncle. I have an adorable niece about your age. We used to get along real fine until she was seventeen and her mother sent her off to Europe for education.' He gazed upon her breasts. ‘I kinda miss her.'

Belinda blushed at her silly outburst. ‘I am truly sorry to hear that, sir,' she said sincerely. ‘But I don't quite see—'

‘Perhaps we could help each other,' he interrupted.

‘Help each other? How sir?'

He rolled the fat cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. ‘You clearly don't want the men to be punished. Your loyalty is highly touching and commendable.'

‘Thank you. They did save my life, after all.'

‘Quite.' His jaw tightened as he clamped the cigar even tighter. ‘Why don't you sit on my knee, and we'll discuss the matter.'