Chapter 9 Dreams and Reality

In the evening of that same day, a restless Major Bordon left his room and strolled down to the British troop camp just outside the fort. It was full of activity: music, singing, dancing, card games, and enlisted men running into and out of the tents with their women friends.

Alex wove his way through the darkness and the bustle of the camp. He soon found himself outside the tent of his favorite whore. A lovely, shapely tart, Miss Diana Sandring was one of the better paid doxies of the lot.

Just as Bordon raised his fist to knock on the tent pole and announce himself, the woman came flying out of the tent door not knowing anyone was there. She ran right into the officer and was clearly startled.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized with a look of fear in her eyes. "I didn't know you were out here."

She was instantly afraid, yet tried hard not to show it. It was known that Major Bordon could have a bad temper, and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Sometimes, when he had patronized her in the past, he had been rough with her, and had even tied her up on occasion. So, she shivered when she saw him, dreading what might come of this unexpected meeting.

Even though she was nervous at the Major's sudden appearance, he was still a good, regular customer of hers and he paid her well. She wondered sometimes, though, if his roughness, usually borne out of frustration over various things, was really worth the money.

"Oh, Good Evening, Miss Sandring," he said with only a slight smile.

"Hello, Major," she replied.

There was an awkward silence then between the two.

She forced herself to continue the greeting. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Oh, I think you know," he answered smartly as his lips curled and eyebrows raised into a look of lasciviousness.

She swallowed hard and said, "Come in." Diana pulled the tent flap open, letting Major Bordon enter first with her following behind.

He came to a stop next to her cot, pulled his long braid queue over his shoulder and began to unwrap the ribbon coiled around the tight plait. The prostitute watched as he did this, trying to get up the nerve to tell him something.

Bordon was soon unbraiding his hair, not sensing the strumpet's apprehension. When done, he ran his fingers through the wavy, light red tresses, which now fell upon his shoulders.

Diana wasn't sure of the officer's mood this evening, so she couldn't anticipate what she was in for with him. She decided to let her customer know her feelings.

"Major," she began tentatively, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to charge you more than usual if you want to be rough or bind me." She hoped this might discourage him from this type of behavior.

"You know I can afford it," he countered.

"Oh," she said quietly, still trying to hide her fear. "Yes."

Bordon sat down on her cot without hesitation and began to take off his boots. "Now, why don't you be a good girl and take care of my needs."

"Yes, sir," she answered. Diana moved in front of him and unlaced the bodice of her dress slowly. She pushed her sleeves down off her shoulders, baring her breasts. With her dress hanging limply on her now at her waistline, she moved to where the officer sat on her cot. Positioning herself, she stood between his legs, reached down, and loosened his cravat.

As she did this, Bordon leaned forward a little and nuzzled her bare chest. "Oh, Major," she sighed airily as she felt his warm mouth on her breasts. His lips and tongue continued to work her nipples as she untied his stock.

When she was done, she laid the cravat over the chair next to the cot. Alex then laid back on the bed where Miss Sandring straddled his legs and undid his breeches. She pulled them down over his hips and to his knees, then paused a moment to caress and tease his manhood with her hand. This released a breath from his throat.

Next, she took his erection into her wet mouth, causing him to moan. Alex raised his head slightly, looked downward, and watched her head move as she worked him in and out of her mouth.

He laid his head back again on the pillow and looked up at the canvas ceiling and remembered he was in a prostitute's tent. His heart longed for more, wishing this wasn't so and feeling disgust at patronizing a trollop, yet unable to deny his manly needs. Though he wanted more on an emotional level, he just wanted her to get on with satisfying him.

"Get on top of me, whore," he commanded. Diana stopped her oral attentions. She raised herself upward from between his legs, then hiked her skirt up.

Of her customers, Diana sometimes enjoyed being with Major Bordon, for he paid her generously and was well endowed physically. His sheer size gave her pleasure, even though it was nothing more than a job to her.

"Oh, God," she cried as she lowered herself slowly onto his hardness, drawing out the moment.

"Ah.....mmmmm...." sighed Alex as she did. He relaxed and closed his eyes as she began to rock against him. As he felt her moving atop him, his mind began to drift.

He soon heard a familiar voice in his mind as daydreams took him prisoner.

"Oh, Alex," a girl's voice implored, "I want the comfort of your bed."

Bordon opened his eyes to the delicious site of a completely naked Melanie Prescott astride his body as he lay supine on his bed.

"I need you so," she pleaded. "I want to feel your body against mine."

With that, she leaned down, covering his body with hers. He gasped as he felt her supple breasts against his bare chest. He opened his mouth and let her tongue and lips take his.

Then, she sat back up on him, took his hands in hers, and placed them on her bosom. Alex caressed her firm breasts as she began to move up and down on his hardness.

"Oh, God," he moaned as she did.

"I had to have you inside of me," Melanie lustfully cried.

Seductively, she took one of his hands from her chest and drew his index finger into her inviting mouth. She drove him mad with desire as she simulated oral copulation upon it.

As she slid the digit out of her sweet mouth, she begged for his movement. "I must feel you moving inside me!"

With one swift move, the officer rolled her over onto her back, pinning her there. He re-entered her with a wild thrust, causing her to cry out.

"Oh, Alex!", she called and relented. "That's it! I want it deeper!"

He complied and drilled into her. She winced aloud with satiation.

"Oh God, harder! Please Alex!", begged Melanie.

Bordon continued to bury himself deeply in her, thrusting hard and swerving against her body.

"Oh, God! Please don't stop!" she pleaded, her voice screaming with desire.

Then, their pleasure mounted and they came together, each moaning aloud in ecstasy.

Alex closed his eyes and laid exhausted and spent atop Melanie. She pressed her lips to his neck.

He opened his eyes, panting hard, and realized he had just been satisfied by a prostitute— not the beautiful Miss Prescott of his fantasy. That ghost of a bed partner had only taken him hostage for a moment, making him forget that he was in a whore's tent.

Feeling cross that he'd forgotten himself and had given into his imagination, and feeling contempt that a strumpet was on him and not pretty Miss Prescott, a scowl crossed his face.

Diana was exhausted and panting as her body had collapsed upon his after her own climax. "Sir," she began, breath still ragged, "If you wanted my name to be 'Melanie', you should have told me that when we began."

This made Bordon angrier, discovering that he unknowingly had cried out Miss Prescott's name as he came. He frowned and strongly pushed himself up off the cot, causing Miss Sandring to slip off his body, as if she were dirty clothing cast aside onto the floor.

"Get off me, tart!" he growled. "I've got work to do in my room!"

Major Bordon quickly pulled his breeches back up and slid his boots back on. He left his hair hanging loose as well as his cravat. Reaching into his pocket, he tossed a few coins onto the whore's cot and left the tent without a word.

The woman thanked him in a low voice as he disappeared through the tent flap.

Alex Bordon's mind was in a frenzy as he tore a path through the tents and back to the main house. He was disgusted with himself for succumbing to the fantasy of bedding a prisoner. More so, because within the fantasy, Miss Prescott seemed to be in total control of him. And, he surmised that since he had fantasized about her, that she was somehow controlling him. Even more frightening to him was the fact that visions of her seemed to creep into his waking thoughts. She was somehow bewitching him, and he could not allow this to happen. He must be in control of himself and the situation at all times.

The officer had made up his mind years ago that no woman would ever again rule him or his life. He approached women cautiously these days, carrying a deep contempt for all females. He distrusted all of them, thinking them all no better than manipulative whores.

While he could admit that he lusted for the attractive daughter of the dead pacifist, he would never fall for such a girl. He was through with women and love and had vowed long ago that no matter what sort of woman he was with—camp follower, common whore, wife of a loyalist or fellow officer—that there would never be any feeling for them. He swore that he would always have the upper hand in any situation with them—no matter what the circumstance.