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Deep in the depths of a New Hampshire forest, something lurked through the undergrowth with a creeping shuffle of clawed feet and the soft creaking of wood. Three bodies shifted between the trees, under a dismal sky of thickening clouds that threatened a constant rain that would never come. It was a cool September, not cold but the threat of autumn was at their heels as the trees began to change, the fading of green to yellow already begun in some as the forest floor became half-littered in a pastiche of flaxen jade.

"Could do with a diddle right now," muttered an English voice, "this sodding weather will not make up its mind."

"I thought you London boys loved the rain," said another shoving beside him, "at least there you have shelter, spend a few years on a farm you can complain to me then."

"EVERY, time, you bring up your bloody farm, you are more an accountant than a ploughman!"

"I dirtied my feet more than you, never had vampers until I was seventeen."

"What the hell does that even mean?!"

"The clothes maketh the man, Francis."

"Harwood, Whitaker." A nobleman's voice in front of the two snarled back. "Need I remind you our task at hand?"

"N-no, captain."

"Then belay your bickering afore I run you both through."

They kept silent and crept onwards, rifles clutched against their stomachs before laying down on a hill and peeking over a rise in the yellowing forest, two tyrannosaurs and a triceratops, garbed in red coats and cocked hats with white breeches and large brown jackets thickly covering their uniforms. One of the tyrannosaurs, red in scales like his coat, bade silence to his comrades before he crawled forwards with muskets glimmering dull like brown mud, worming towards a soft dip in the land.

Motioning the others to follow, the grey triceratops and the green T-Rex crawled down to meet him, the captain motioning them to split up in three separate directions that converged on a single point further within the silent glade. There was no sun, causing the thicker parts of the forest to go dark which the captain shuffled through quick as he could, his breath steady in his chest as he pointed his musket with unerring eye and gritted teeth before moving on and finding a soft hill of golden leaves to gather under with his soldiers

"The land is sodden," said the captain, "found footprints heading west, definitely a colonist."

"What now sir?" asked the trike.

"Spread out, look for the stranger and take them quiet."

"Hmhmhmhm," the other rex braced his gun, "finding babes in the woods are we captain?"

"Do not underestimate these traitors," his captain prodded him with a finger, "they have rifles, they are not savages like the Scots. Harwood, take point north and skirt towards the west."

"Yes sir," the triceratops nodded.

"Whitaker go south," he motioned to the green rex, "keep me in sight, you will be my hawk."

"Yes sir."

They split up once more as Harwood headed north, stepping over the soggy parts as he found more footprints in the marshen depths of the woods. With rifle half-up he spun a full 360 to scan through the trees before reaching a certain point and skirting west. Whitaker kept close to his captain, walking far enough that the other T-rex was a line of red and brown through the trees whilst the captain himself relaxed his guard, looking more like a traveller than a soldier of the King as he used his rifle like a walking stick.

The sounds of nature flitted over his head, birds fluttering from tree to tree as something barked in the distance. It was almost peaceful, reminding him of summer days in Nottingham as a smile drew over his lips. Then a gunshot, screeching wings flew above his head as he flipped out his musket and pointed north looking for smoke. The birds had gone, the leaves turned tense as he felt the bark of the trees tighten like his veins before looking south for Whitaker. He was gone too as the captain turned a full circle round himself to search for anything that moved.

_Cli-click- BANG! _

His musket fired towards the southwest, a gorgeous long barrel with silver whorls above the trigger as he pulled back the guard and cracked open the breech, dropping a musket ball in the hole and a dust of powder following before he snapped the rifle straight in the space of ten seconds. The bayonet glimmered at its end with threatening ire, honing upon a shadow in the east.

BANG!

The shadow fell, but he didn't run immediately to it. Instead he took a cautious flank to the south and crept through the leaves to hide behind a hill and snap open his rifle to reload, peeking over the rise towards another slope opposite the clearing that formed almost a half-pipe as he heard another gunshot that cracked a piece of bark beside him.

"Bastard."

The captain ducked and took off his hat, slipping it onto the bayonet and stretching it away from him. He lifted it above the hillock a minute later as another shot pierced through, puncturing the hat before he shot up ready to fire at the smoking gun.

BANG!

"A-AAARGH!"

"HOWZAT YOU BASTARD OIK!?" The rex snapped his rifle open and popped another ball. "Thought you could trick captain Jonas Blake of the King's army ehh, you puddleheaded tatterdemallion!"

He rushed towards his wounded target, the smoke still rising from their gun as he made a winding path round the clearing after picking up his hat. With a rushing leap as his coat swept up behind him, he turned upon the other embankment with gun at the ready to find an abandoned rifle. Too late he realised his error when a thick club crunched the back of his head and sent him to the forest floor.

When Jonas awoke, hours had passed since by the cold breeze and the hooting of owls in the New England forest. The captain struggled to pull himself up before realising his arms and legs had been tied up separate, a campfire flickering beneath a wall of roots from a tree that had fallen over, forming a small earthen cave.

"NNNGH, a-aaagh!"

"C-captain!"

He saw his other two scouts with battered faces bound beside him, their guns placed even further away opposite the fire.

"S-sir, they took us when-"

"Stand firm lads," Blake stiffened his lip, "we do not snivel, we are soldiers of the King, we shall take whatever punishment they insure and wait for our moment to strike."

"I-i have been trying," said Harwood the trike swinging his tail behind him, "these damn knots!"

"Oh, did you not learn how to deal with knots at the farm?" Whitaker scoffed.

"This, is NOT the time!"

"Oh NOW you say that, you were all ready to postulate about your sodding acres-"

"ENOUGH!" The red tyrannosaur barked at his green compatriot. "We are soldiers, not children, now assail your surroundings and keep point!"

They watched and waited with a huff as the flames crackled on, shadows dancing across the roots that rustled gently behind them when the breeze picked up. The sky was hidden in the veil of leaves, a dark golden silk that swayed and rippled from the coming autumn winds. Footsteps soon approached as the English beasts steeled their nerves.

"How are they?"

"Captain's awake boss, barking his head off."

"Good, I like them feisty. Anyone follow us?"

"Not a soul, they're just a gang of noses."

"Perfect. Means you can have fun with us too Mencken, you're relieved."

"Thank you boss!"

Trampling into their view were four mammalian creatures with long brown coats and common hunting shirts with white stockings above their boots. Two burly sabretooths, one white and one orange, along with a daeodon which resembled a primordial hog with long snout and large canine fangs. But their leader was clearly the grey-furred woolly mammoth whose tusks curled out grand, and the only part of their uniforms indicating any military personage were their tricornered hats.

"Thought you could go boguing in our backyard hmm?" said the pachyderm kneeling down. "Nice bait with the hat, reckon you could've made puppeteer in another life."

"Or join parliament," said the white sabretooth.

"HAH, ain't that the same thing?!" his amber friend cackled.

"I will not be intimidated by land pirates," Jonas Blake sniffed sharply, "do what you will to us."

"Well," the mammoth pushed his trunk under the rex's chin, "certainly a captain no doubt about that."

"Hands off of him!" Harwood shouted. "Take your filthy paw off you shag-haired bossloper-AAGH!"

"I don't recall asking your opinion," the mammoth slapped the trike with his trunk, "also you'll address me as sir, or Mr. Alcott."

"Hmhmhmhm," Blake smiled a toothy grin, "good to know, Mr. Alcott, I shall pay a visit to the census once this is over and your friends shall be expecting the King's gentlemen shortly-"

"Do you really think we'd be so dumb as to even register ourselves on it? You do realise why we're fighting your country don't you?"

"Because you are a pack of ungrateful reprobates who understand not the finer difficulties of strengthening our society by monetary means, you are spoilt cubs."

"Better a spoilt cub than the fat chief," said the pig crossing his arms, "you're the slovenly one who after the end of our hunt, takes the prime of our meat and forces us to live on scraps."

"You have plenty here!" shouted Whitaker wrestling in his restraints. "You think we do not have it rough in England?!"

"No, I don't, because you're taxing us a quarter for every DIME!"

"If you have not enough money to provide then that is your fault alone!"

"DAMN PRIG!"

The yellow tiger leapt forwards with a hard kick, slamming Whitaker to the ground before the daeodon pushed him back.

"HEY, not too rough Ollie!"

"They deserve barking irons in the throat!"

"Enough, Smith." Alcott grabbed his arm with his huge mammoth hand. "We'll have our reckoning soon enough."

"With what?" The red rex Blake scoffed swishing his tail. "I already have most of your names, tis only a matter of time before the bailiffs bring your associates in."

"Unless we put down false names on the record," he gestured to the white sabretooth, "Caxton is something of a chapel ghost."

"I have a...problem with words," the tiger shrugged showing his ink-covered paws, "sometimes a T turns to an L, a D into an O, been like that since I was a mite."

"Hmph, you were right captain," Harwood snickered, "these colonists are nothing but damn crackers."

"Ohhh?" The elephant walked over to their guns. "You would know a thing or two about facades yes?"

"Wh-what?!"

He picked up Blake's rifle with the silver breech, testing its weight in his hands with a smirk.

"Chaumette design yes?"

"Hmm!" The rex captain nodded. "Very perceptive for a jackanape, but not quite."

"Loads from the breech," Alcott clicked it open and stared inside, "still loaded."

"With your name on it." Blake grinned proudly. "Designed by Major Ferguson's ordnance, trigger-crank and eleven threads."

"How many rounds?"

"In your mammalian palms I dare say you would struggle to reach six. But in my cool reptilian fingers...a good ten rounds per minute."

Mencken whistled through his snout with a nod.

"Reckon that's a damn fine rifle."

"Indeed," Blake nodded, "only a hundred of them exist in the entire world-"

KRAKK!

"Make that ninety-nine."

The mammoth snapped the gun entirely in half over his knee, crunching through the silver emboss to shatter it in twain before dumping out the powder and ball to toss the rifle in the flames.

"Y-...Y-Y-YOU-" Blake twitched his eye with full-bearing teeth, "WHO THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!"

"Someone teaching you a lesson," the mammoth rubbed watched the wood crackle away, "you're all buttons and fobs and gilds but break at the slightest pressure, not like a sturdy ol' Brown Bess that just does the job."

"YOU GODFORSAKEN LOBCOCK! _" he threw himself forwards as the sabretooths grabbed him. "_THAT WAS A GIFT FROM MY COMMANDER!"

"And now you're a gift from your commander...to us."

Alcott started to slip off his breeches as the revolutionaries nodded, their smirks growing as they followed suit in disrobing their trousers to reveal eight furry legs and a swelling foursome of mammalian cocks before them.

"Wh-what, what are you doing?!" cried Whitaker still on his back.

"Showing you how easy a fancy rifle can be broken," said Caxton licking his fangs, "not like ol' reliables like we are."

"S-sir?!" Harwood kicked his bound legs trying to push away. "S-SIR, SIR?!"

"So you drag us to your flash ken," snarled Blake still on the ground, "just so you have a couple of free hedge whores?!"

"No, we have other ideas for you," said Ollie Smith who pinned him down, "boss which one you want?"

"I'll treat our good captain right," the mammoth cracked his knuckles, "you boys have the other two."

"SIR DO SOMETHING!" Harwood shrieked as the boar advanced on him. "What, what are you going to do?!"

"Giving you your medicine," said the daeodon grabbing his horns to make him stare at his meat, "now open wide like a good boy."

"You think th-that, I, u-um, I," the triceratops licked his lips, "I-i-i would deign to sully my lips with your sugar stick?!"

"Well, you look hungry, and you know what they say, a spoonful of sugar!"

"GLRRMMMPH!"

"Helps the medicine go DOWN!"

The pig shoved his length inside as Harwood grunted, choking slightly on the fat pork of six inches as his head was wrangled firm to swallow down to the hilt with a steady plap of his hairy balls against his chin. The tigers pulled up Whitaker onto his knees, bending him over on all fours as Caxton took the front whilst Smith took the rear and pulled down the green rex's pants to expose his pert jade rump.

"Looking a bit feeze there huh Jack?"

"M-my name...is Francis Whitaker," he sneered at the sabretooth's length grinding on his face, "I will not...be assuaged by filthy land pirates-A-AAAH!"

"Is that a fact?" the white feline pressed his finger into the pucker. "Reckon that's a cleverly little hole you got there."

"N-NNNGH, you f-filthy-MMMPH!"

"Don't waste your breath," said Smith shoving his dick inside, "wouldn't want to you to wilt too soon before we had our fun."

"Damn straight," his friend kept pumping the hole wider with his furry digit, "chirk little feller ain't he?"

"Sure is, a-aaah!"

The cats shuddered with long glistening fangs above the rex as they firmly pushed in together, panting at the tightness of an English beast who clenched by instinct around their invading lengths. Francis made a grimace around the sabretooth's cock, feeling its seven inches pump against his tongue and slip down his scaled throat whilst the other feline member spread his ass wider with a second finger that stretched his succulent emerald ring.

With one hand on the tail to keep it raised high, Caxton pushed in deeper with each few seconds, sounds of sweet grunting shivers trembling through Smith's shaft that kept grinding inside the rex's cheeks and smeared the back of his throat with pre.

"Now it's just you and me," Alcott rolled the T-rex captain on his back, "never had an English punk."

"You sir are a filthy CUR!" said Blake with spitting hiss. "A wanton misbegotten shabbaroon!"

"Hah, that's a lot of teeth-breaking words," the mammoth showed his monstrous nine-inch length, "I've quite a toothbreaker of my own."

"You shall NOT sully my body with your disgusting mammalian flesh!"

Regardless Alcott sat upon Jonas' chest where his thick elephantine cock slapped against his neck.

"I'll give you a choice, which is more than you coldbloods have given us. Either swallow your pride and polish me off to make things easier, or we'll see how dry things get back there."

"I...will not give you the pleasure," the rex turned his head stiffly, "do your worst, I have seen many a beard-splitter in the dregs of Whitehall and they were a damn sight less troublesome than you."

"Hah, very well."

The mammoth slipped himself back and pulled up Blake's legs to expose his red ruby rump.

"You'll be surprised to know I'm not a callous sort." He licked his lips. "So I'll make this easier for both of us."

"AHHH, unHAND me you filthy brigand-NNNNGH!"

Lifted by a single furry hand, Blake felt half his body being held upright as the two tusks grinded on both his thighs when Alcott pressed his thick elephant tongue against the scaled pucker. Diving as deep as he could, the hot mammoth tongue swirled around his anal walls in a spiral fashion to lubricate every part he could.

The walls rippled against his touch, trembling folds that tightened and shuddered from Alcott's ministrations as he moaned from the thick fleshy taste. His trunk slid around to the front of Blake's knees, slipping towards his chest to wrap round the T-rex's cock which until now had been flaccid, but the touch of the prehensile snout made it stiffen when the tip of the trunk flicked against the foreskin and very slightly pulled it.

"Ha-hhhaaAAAH!"

"Mmmmmmhhhh," the pachyderm pulled back with a plop showing his sticky hole, "stiff upper lip won't help you here, unless you want to make it more fun for me."

"You, bloody TOSSPOT!"

Chuckling at his frustration, the mammoth laid him on his side and slipped up behind him with his prodigious length. The soft slickened hole pushed against his invasion, but it soon yielded with enough force as Alcott grabbed Blake's chest firm with his thicker hairy body grinding against the back of his red coat. The tyrannosaur gasped as the mammoth clutched him tighter, spreading his ring wider with his hot-blooded meat filling up the captain with a sudden warmth that made his legs twitch.

"Hell of a rear admiral you'll make," Alcott chuckled against his cheek, "mmmmph...want me to give you a war wound?"

"YOU, g-gah, sodding bacon-faced molly!"

"No that's Mencken over there, why? You interested in some pork?"

"How d-DARE YOU!"

Pounded harder by the American, Blake gritted his teeth when he felt the punching pop of his prostate by the mammal's length grinding deep into his walls with thickening strength, his breath running down his neck and his trunk slipping round his neck in an almost fond embrace.

Mencken however was savouring his own reward with Harwood, the triceratops forced to swallow down pre in thicker gulps that drooled from his mouth when the boar started to peak with a shivering splendour. His tongue dipped out of his snout, his furred belly scraping against the reptilian skull as his cock rubbed harder against Harwood's palate with one last thrust.

"HA-AAAAH! NNNNGH that's a good little English boy!"

"M-mmmmph, MMMMMPH!"

"Hhhhaaaaah, aaaaah...well, how was that eh?"

The daeodon smirked with panting breath as his cum sputtered down Harwood's throat, filling up his belly before he stepped back and shot the last of his seed upon the trike's face.

"Ooops, hahaha!"

"Y-you-GAH! Haaaah...d-damn savage I will have you roasted!"

"Ohh, I thought you didn't like pork?" Mencken smiled seeing the trike flick his tongue over his lips. "Seems like you do."

"U-UHH! W-well I-"

"Stay sharp, I'll be back for you." The boar stretched his arms looking over to the sabretooths. "Having fun over there lads?"

"Just about to," said the white-furred Caxton, "now that he's nice and ready, not going to treat his other end right?"

"Well I didn't want to be greedy, how about we swap once you're done with him?"

"Fine by me, why don't you prep three-horn over there for us until then?"

The boar nodded with a chuckle as he did so, bending over Harwood and lifting his tail to savour the sweet triceratops rump with his tongue digging inside, spreading him softly with his hot porcine mouth panting against the puckered ring with a sloppy suckling sensation that made the reptile twitch and shiver in a gasping flinch, his face still covered in hog jizz against the ground.

The pale cat made his way inside of Whitaker's rear, now loosened enough to take him easily with his thin seven inches sliding through the rex's tunnel. Sighing with bliss the sabretooths vigorously fucked in a sawing motion as one pulled out and the other thrust in making the T-rex shiver with grunts. At first it was manageable, sliding back and forth as Caxton and Smith snickered at each other with hungering breaths and thick-furred claws dragging over the red-coated body.

"Damn, the ol' king gave us a good gift with this punk!"

"Amen, we oughta thank him!"

"M-MMMMPH, mmrrrgh!"

"Good idea, whatever you said!" The yellow cat smirked his huge fangs. "Have to say for a coldblooded Englishbeast you make a warm sack to fill up!"

He felt his orgasm rising, incited already by the tightness of a reptilian throat that sucked by a growing instinct as Smith's bollocks tightened up in expectant glee, his sandy balls smacking against the verdant scaly chin as hard as the snowy plums that slapped his taut cheeks. Hot burgeoning pre sputtered down the lizard's taint, drooling from his hole with every thrust from the sabretooth's cock starting to quiver with excitement, which in turn made Francis shiver in his own green-scaled cock drooling when it swung back and forth underneath.

The felines bent over fully, almost breathing in each other's faces before Caxton grinned with a hot smooch to his friend. Smith was surprised but didn't refuse, moaning as their teeth clinked against each other with tongues grinding harder in a heated gasp. Slamming their hips harder with shuddering breaths, the sabretooths groaned with suckling drool that the other swallowed when they came at once.

"M-MMMMMPH!"

"MMMMMHHHH!"

"M-MMMRRRRHHH!"

Francis bulged his eyes when he tasted the hot seed shooting down his throat and rear, thick salty milk that sprayed over his walls and filled him up both ends whilst their balls grinded on his cheeks. Whitaker rolled his eyes tasting the jizz and feeling it settle in his gut, groaning with trembling knees that started to collapse once the sabretooths pulled out with a hefty sigh as their lips twined with threads of spit.

"Mmmmhhhh...damn what a peach," shuddered Caxton.

"You're telling me," Smith gulped staining Whitaker's lips with his seed, "you want him next Sam?"

"Yes indeed," Mencken smirked still fingering the trike, "Ollie you want this fresh punk?"

"Reckon I do!"

As the yellow feline went over to savour the tight rear, Caxton smothered Francis' rump with a fine coating of semen on both cheeks, backing off to let Mencken have his shot as the T-rex and trike gasped together in cries of exasperation when one was fucked for the second time, and the other was fucked the first.

During this their captain was suffering a greater indignity to his position, fondled and pumped by the boss of the rebels whose trunk kept a firm clench around his throat with breathy little gasps against his cheek and a hand sliding down towards Jonas' crimson shaft. Thick hairy mammoth balls punched his ass with a shocking strength, jabbing his prostate stronger with each thrust that he could tell his enemy was getting close.

"How's that feel?" shuddered Alcott against his cheek. "Think my rifle's better than yours yet?"

"A-aagh, you...filthy colonists are all the same," snarled Blake.

"If we are then you boys're in trouble, considering you got rattled by queer roosters."

"DO NOT, MOCK ME, I will see you hang after this-GLRRK!"

"Like this?"

The pachyderm wrapped his trunk tighter round Blake's neck. He said nothing more but the snarl in his throat gave enough of a warning for the rex to not push it as Alcot kept humping. Soon they felt a river of pre drooling down Blake's flank, the mammoth's balls turning stickier with each slap that wettened against the red-coated scales until they glistened sweetly.

He struggled not to cum, but Alcott's jerking made it difficult as he picked up the pace with a faster slapping and a harder pumping of his shaft that dribbled out a thick puddle upon the ground. Then came the powerful shot of hot American seed drenching his insides as the mammoth trumpeted hard with a brazen cry, almost victorious as Blake spasmed from the volcanic heat flaring inside his belly from the porous amounts of jizz that overflowed out of the tyrannosaur's rear and matted Alcott's balls a fine sticky creme.

"MMMmmmmmph...aaaaah...good captain." The mammoth slowly pulled out with a fat splurt that painted his ass. "Well well, red and white just like St. George."

"Y-you...vermin-haired bastard," snarled the rex, "forget hanging, you shall be drawn and QUARTERED!"

"Oh I already am," he stood up slapping his fat dick on his rump, "drawn at full length and only a quarter empty, but I'm sure you can fix that."

Grabbing Jonas' arms the mammal sat himself down at the wall of roots, hoisting him up to impale him once again on his mammoth pillar of flesh with a much easier slide from its lugubrious dripping, smearing all down the elephant's thighs as he steadied the captain with his trunk firmly round his neck to keep him upright.

Much to the T-rex's shock he felt hands rip at his shirt and expose his bare chest, fingers of furry finagling at his nipples with a tender pinch that made Jonas yelp in a rather ungentlemanly state. Alcott smirked behind his captive, using the strength of his trunk to pull him up then sink him down hard on release with a firm squishy plap, his hands wandering over the tyranno's chest with tweaking pinches and little plucks that made Jonas gasp and shiver with twitching fits.

"You sound like your wife," snickered Alcott, "least I imagine."

"H-haaah, AAAAH y-y-you, godfors-s-saken-HNNNGH!"

"Save your breath limey, just let me handle this...mmmmph, have to say you make a good flourish for such a tight-ass."

"N-NNNGH, g-god...damn you!"

The night wore on as the scouts serviced the rebels, Mencken pumping the green tyrannosaur whilst the sandy-haired Smith buggered the triceratops roughly. At one point Caxton had the dubious idea of having them brought together whilst he sat between them, showing his splendid shaft as their heads were brought forwards to lick and suck across the thickening meat.

Gasping sounds trembled throughout the forest as Francis and Harwood slurped over the twitching cock, the white sabretooth sighing to relax as he petted both their heads in a simpering manner, the three mammals bantering with laughter as Smith and Mencken kept thrusting with gritted teeth and snarling breaths of growing bestial lust. Then to the green rex's shock, he saw the face of the triceratops change with each slurp across the tiger's length.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" he snarled.

"Just...m-mmmph," Harwood gasped sucking the side of the cock, "starting to enjoy myself."

"B-but, but, these bastards are-"

"Making me feel quite good on the inside," he muttered dragging his tongue to the tip, "if this is going to happen, might as well enjoy myself."

"Are you serious?!" gasped the T-rex bending down to suckle the balls. "These b-brigands are taking advantage of us f-for their blighted selves, th-they are spoilt squabs!"

"Come off it Francis," Harwood joined him with a popping suck on the furry testes, "m-mmmph, you were complaining less about being buggered both ways than my farmyard days, some part of you is enjoying it."

"But...M-melatiah, a-aaah...h-haah...g-god why does this f-feel so good?!"

"I will not tell," said the trike winking at him, "let us make a pact, and seal it here."

"You...y-you will not tell?"

"If I do, then you can betray me in turn." He smiled greater towards him. "Shall we sin together?"

"Y-...yes. Yes, oh god yes!"

Francis shuddered with a nodding blush as they came together upon the head of the sabretooth's cock, lapping upwards in a sensuous journey to match the other's contentment as the hot taste of mammal flesh spread across their tongues before reaching the thickening glans whilst Mencken and Smith kept pumping their asses harder, their sweat dripping across their scaled backs before the two reptiles kissed. There was no tongue, at least not until Caxton couldn't last any longer with such an arousing sensation of two hot mouths wrapped upon his head, that he fed them their reward of hot rich American cum with a gasping cry to the heavens.

Harwood and Whitaker swallowed gladly, their sense of devious submission arousing them further along with the constant pumping of their rears making them twitch harder in their shafts dripping profusely underneath. The trike was first to release, crying with cummy lips as he spurted a hot puddle between his legs and clenched hard upon the yellow sabretooth's meat. Francis followed soon after seeing his friend orgasm, practically feeling it from his proximity as he sputtered hard with a shot of semen in the dirt, and a spasming shudder through his anal walls that made Mencken fill him up in reward with a braying screech as the two rebels slapped their bollocks hard against the soldiers' rumps, a soft trickling stream came thinning out from their used holes.

"Doing good over there boys?!" Alcott barked.

"Y-yes boss," Caxton looked down upon Francis and Melatiah still licking at his cummy shaft, "reckon I got them round to our way of thinking."

"Hahah, good work! Line up here once you're done, let's give our good captain a proper American send-off."

"Yes boss!"

Grinning behind Jonas he watched his troops line up in front with their cocks erect, pumping vigorous as they could with a shudder at the sight of the English saurian getting slamfucked by their boss who picked up the pace. His balls of thick grey hairs became smooth and glossy with his seed as he jackhammered faster, pumping upwards everytime he dropped Jonas down with forceful impalement as his hands roved across the crimson chest in teasing pinches.

Much to his chagrin the T-rex came, shooting his cum all over his britches and his red coat with a gasping wail that in turn caused Alcott to bellow through his trunk, loosening from Jonas' neck to sing throughout the woods in his climactic force when he pumped the captain full of seed in disgrace. As if on command his boys came too in a firing squad, panting frantic with their cocks dripping closer before they shot three ways across the T-rex's face and belly, staining his sweat-covered scales with hot mammal milk in streaks diagonal.

"M-MMMMMPH! Mmmmmhhh...ohhhh damn that was a fine mission boys." The mammoth sighed petting Jonas' cheek. "At ease."

"Thank you boss," Smith grinned with a sated gasp, "what'll we do with them now?"

"I have some ideas. We'll make for the town in four hours, get plenty of rest because you'll be dragging our friends with us."

"We're keeping them alive?" Mencken squinted uncertain.

"The fate I have in store'll do worse to their reputation," said Alcott smiling as he pulled Jonas off his dick, "n-nnnngh for now, you boys get some rest...and that means our guests too."

In the town square the next morning, around 7:30am, a staunch-looking stegosaurus strolled down the main fairway with full British regalia behind him. A small legion of drummers, sergeants and corporals, he squinted at the townsfolk early to rise from their well-built houses painted white with birch-grey, lined up on either side of the street giving their morning greetings as tailors and candlemakers opened for business.

"A fine day is it not?" said the stegosaur. "Not often we have a lull in this blighted land."

"Even traitors get tiresome major," said a sergeant velociraptor in thin red coat, "what are our plans today?"

"A meeting with the governor, arrange some ordnances, the south reach looked a little paltry last week so I expect at least twenty more rifles."

"Yes major."

"Also make a note for Jameson, he showed promise in the last engagement if things get dicey I would like him promoted to lieutenant should one off it."

"Understood major-...wh-what is happening down there?"

"I do not recall a town meeting," the major stroked his chin, "tell the rest to stay here I shall investigate."

With his cohort left behind to maintain the troop, the stegosaur walked with a brisk pace as his sharp thagomizer tail swung behind with increasing suspicion at the mob amassing in the town square clamouring with shock and wonder. The crowd of mammals ranged from the shrew-like gobicondon to the robust hippo-wide desmostylus, all of whom formed a gaggle with increasing anxiety somewhere between joy and unease.

"Never seen anything like it!"

"That sure takes some potvaliance I tell you what."

"More like insanity, whoever did this'll be in the clink for certain."

"Is there a problem here?" the stegosaur patted one shoulder.

"A-AHH, s-sir!" a rhino-faced toxodon turned in her petticoat with natural curtsy. "S-something, well, SOMETHING happened we just discovered it at ol' Mencken's place!"

"Let me through and see for myself, would be less tiresome than your gossip."

He pushed her aside and barged through the crowd as they parted before his scarlet coat, swishing with his thick thorny tail threatening close towards their legs as he came upon the front of a general store where his mouth dropped agape.

"...what...in God's green earth."

Hanging upon hammocks from the general store sign, three British soldiers he knew to be scouts were gagged with their clothes stuffed in their mouths or tying their limbs into place. A triceratops and two T-rexes, one of whom was especially livid snarling and roaring with muffled gag as their bodies drenched in seed left a river dripping through the hammocks that messed the front of the shop. Even more worrying was the large banner printed in professional ink across the shop above the three.

EARLY WE RISE AND EARLY TO BED

YOUR PARLIAMENT IS LIES

AND YOUR SOLDIERS WE BRED

-SIGNED, THE PEOPLE