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Subject: {ASSM} AnnD"Johnny Reb"Historical(2/3)
Date: Tue, 20 Jun 2000 20:10:07 -0400
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	Johnny Reb
	by Ann Douglas
            (ann_douglas@hotmail.com)

Part  Two

	About eleven o'clock in the morning on
the second day since John had left, Ashley said a
prayer over the graves of her parents.  As was her
habit, she laid what wildflowers she could find by
their small stones.
  	She missed them terribly, her father most
of all.  She could still hear his voice when she
closed her eyes at night, telling her the stories he
told her as a little girl.  Stories of the old country
that his own parents had told him when he was
young.  Her favorites were his tales of the little
people, and how he always promised her that
some day she might find one of their treasures and
live happily ever after.
	"This land is my treasure, Papa,"  she said
to the empty air.  "And I'll never let anyone take it
from me."
	The sudden sound of a horse at the front
of the house caused Ashley to jump to her feet,
interrupting her prayer and vow.  It seemed these
days, horses usually meant Yankees.
	Having learned her lesson in a way that
would never again be far from her mind, Ashley
now made sure her daddy's rifle was never far
from her side.  Making sure it was set and loaded,
she rushed back to the house around to the front
entrance.
	To her relief, there was but a single
horseman.  More so, the coat he wore was far
from Union Blue.  Her face filled with joy as she
saw the face of the rider.
	"John!"  she cried out as she lowered the
gun and ran around to the side of the horse.
	She stopped cold for a second when she
saw the ripped leg of his trousers and the dark red
bloodstains on the dirty material.
	"Oh God,"  she cried even louder,  "you're
hurt!"
	"They just nicked me a little," he said as
tried to dismount, only to practically fall into her
arms.
	Thankfully, John was small enough for
Ashley to carry him into the house.  She doubted
that he would've been able to make it on his own.
Carefully, she led him to the small bed she'd made
up in the living room.
	"Let me look at this," she said as she
grabbed the bowl of water she had poured earlier
and dipped a clean rag into it.
	John's assessment that they had only
nicked him turned out to be true.  The wound in
his lower calf had been bloody for a while, but
was already clotted.  Carefully she washed it and
then wrapped his leg in a bandaged she had boiled
clean.
	"What happened?" she asked, now that she
was sure he wasn't badly injured.
	"It's over,"  he replied, a touch of deep
sadness in his voice.
	"What's over?"  Ashley asked, clearing
away the bowl and washrag.
	"Lee surrendered to Grant two days ago,"
John explained,  "At some place up by the
Appomattox River."
	"Two days ago,"  Ashley said, wondering
if Sergeant Rourke and Private Butler had known
that.  Not that it really mattered.  "But how did
you get shot?"
	"After I got rid of the bodies, I started
back along the Wilshire Road,"  John began,
sitting up on the edge of the bed.  " I came across
some more dead Federals.  From the look of it,
they'd only been dead an hour or so.  Old habits
die hard, I guess, so I checked them for anything I
could use."
	Ashley recalled him doing the same with
the two soldiers the day before.  He had left
whatever food he had found in their sacks with
her.
	"I found this bag on a Yankee Major,"  he
said, indicating the worn pouch he'd strapped to
his body, "and I guess I was so tired by that point
that I didn't hear the patrol that came up behind
me."
	He handed the bag to Ashley who was
surprised to find it very heavy. More concerned
about her new friend that some war booty, she put
in down alongside the bed.
	"Two of the dead men were in civilian
clothes.  I don't know if they were Southerners or
Yankee scouts.  One of their horses was still
there, and it didn't carry no Yankee Army brand.
I jumped on the horse and took off, just as that
bunch of blue bellies came up on me.  I guess they
figured I was the one that bushwhacked the dead
Major."
	"Thank God you managed to get away,"
Ashley said in relief as she wiped some of the
grime from his face.
	"Hasn't been a Yankee born that could
catch me once I'm on a horse,"  John said with a
touch of pride.  "Course they can get lucky once
and a while, that's how I got this,"  he added,
indicating his injured leg.
	"Well you're safe now,"  she said as she
stood up, a memory of her beloved Stephen
boasting of his horsemanship in much the same
way.  Until the day a lucky shot had ended all of
their dreams.  "You just rest now."
	"But I wanted to tell you ab ..."
	"I said you just rest,"  Ashley repeated in
the tone she used to use when she cared for her
younger brothers.  "There'll be plenty of time to
talk later."

	On top of the long hike after he'd disposed
of the bodies, John had been in the saddle for
almost a day, avoiding the Federal Patrols that
seemed to be everywhere.  Once he finally gave in
to the wisdom of her forceful suggestion, he slept
for the rest of the day.
	The sun had already set by the time John
finally stirred.  Ashley had made a stew out of
vegetables from her garden and a squirrel she had
managed to catch.  Compared to the hard biscuits
he had been living on, John considered the simple
fare a feast.
	After dinner, Ashley had carried enough
water from the well to at least half fill the tin
bathtub that her husband had sent all the way to
Baltimore for as a anniversary gift.  She started to
help John undress, but he quickly objected to the
idea.
	"Don't be stubborn,"  she admonished him.
"I was a married woman and I helped raise two
younger brothers.  I've seem what a man looks
like under all that filth.  Let me help you, you're
hurt."
	"I'll manage,"  John insisted.
	"Men!" Ashley said as she threw up her
hands in resignation and left him to bathe alone.
"Just make sure you don't get that bandage wet,"
she added.
	While John bathed, Ashley had found
some of  Robert's old clothes.  They might not be
a perfect fit, but at least they were clean. Averting
her eyes in deference to John's silly need for
modesty, the twenty-three year old opened the
door to the small washroom  halfway and pushed
the pants and shirt inside.

	John emerged a while later, looking
cleaner than he'd probably been in weeks.  With
his blond hair cropped short and his face lacking
even the semblance of facial hair, he now looked
even more like the teenage boy Ashley had first
taken him to be.  Robert's clothes were a little
loose on him, so he'd use a small piece of rope as
a make shift belt.
	Despite his earlier rest, he was still a little
tired.  Ashley insisted he take the bed, and in this
case he was too drained to argue.  They talked for
a while and learned a little more about each other.
	Ashley told him of her life and how she
had lost her husband and two brothers in the war.
When she mentioned her younger brothers who
were serving out west, John said he shared her
hope that they might have survived.  Inwardly,
having seen so many of his comrades' fall as much
to disease and infection as enemy action, he
thought it was more than likely that they hadn't.
	John in turn described how he had grown
up on a farm that was smaller, but otherwise not
too different than this one.  His parents had been
much poorer than Ashley's, but still they managed
to have a fair life.  He'd joined up with the militia
as had all the other young men in the district.  It
had made his father so proud when he had first
come home in his uniform.  A few months later,
one of the neighbors had written him to say that
both his parents had died of the fever.
	 When Ashley inquired about any brothers
or sisters, since it was unusual for a farm family to
have only a single child, John reluctantly explained
that his mother had such a hard time with his birth
that the local doctor said that another pregnancy
might kill her.  Something in that answer seemed
to increase the fatigue that he felt and he faded off
to sleep soon after.

	Sitting in her Grandmother's rocker as she
watched John sleep, Ashley began to find herself
filled with long buried stirrings.  Aside from the
incident with the Yankee soldiers, which she
considered an act of violence rather than passion,
it had been almost two lonely years since she'd
been with a man.  There had been nights she had
given in to temptation and pleasured herself, but it
really didn't compare with having a warm body
pressed against hers.
	John was more boy than man in many
ways, she said to herself, yet he was already older
than she had been on her wedding night.
Additionally, if you factored in the life he'd led,
and what he had seem in his short years, then he
was almost older than Stephen had been the night
they'd first made love.
	"Listen to me," the twenty-three year old
chided herself in response to her thoughts.  "Next
I'll be telling myself he deserves a reward for
saving my life."
	Deep down however, Ashley knew that
whatever the reason she finally gave herself, she
didn't have the strength of will to continue her
long abstinence.  There had been too many empty
nights to let a chance for a brief happiness to pass.

	Ashley rose from the chair and undid the
ribbon that held back her hair. She shook her hair
loose and then used her hands to straighten it as
best she could.  Reaching behind her back, she
undid the few buttons that held her dress together.
She laid her dress on the chair, following it a
minute later with her undergarments.
	The dim light of the remnants of the fire
illuminated her nude form as she ran her hands up
and down her body, stopping as she cupped her
breasts. Her mounds, like the rest of her body,
were no longer as firm as they once were.  Too
many days of hard work and missed meals had
taken their toll.  Still, she was sure John wouldn't
be disappointed.
	Lifting the blanket she had draped over
him, Ashley climbed into the bed and pressed her
body next to his.  She wrapped her arms around
him, drawing him to her. For the moment, she was
content just to share his warmth.  With a feeling of
comfort she had so missed, Ashley closed her eyes
and drifted to sleep.

	Ashley awoke hours later, the light of the
spring Moon filling the room.  John's presence
next to her felt so welcome that she was now sure
she was doing the right thing.  Softly she kissed
his cheek, then ran her hand across his body.
Silently, she undid his rope belt to give his
borrowed pants enough slack to allow her hand to
slide inside.
	Her fingers reached between his legs as a
look of confusion filled her face.

	"I'm afraid you're not going to find what
you're looking for," a now awake John said.
	"What happened to you?"  a confused
Ashley asked as she quickly withdrew her hand.
	"Nothing at all,"  John said.  "I'm as
normal as you."
	"As normal as ..."  Ashley started to say
when the obvious suddenly occurred to her.
	"That's right,"  John confirmed the look of
understanding on Ashley's face.
	"But you were in the Army."
	"My father was devastated that his only
child was born a girl," John explained as if it was
the most natural thing in the world.  "So to please
him, my Mama raised me to be his son."
	"And all your time in the Army,"  a curious
Ashley asked, "no one ever suspected?"
	"I just kept away from the doctors, what
little good some of them were,"  John went on.
"Thankfully I was never hurt bad enough to have
anyone examine me too closely." 
	"None of the other soldiers ever ..."
	"I don't exactly have the same sort of body
as you do,"  said the young woman.  "The kind
that draws men like honey does flies."
	Ashley recalled that the uniform John had
worn was almost as baggy as the clothes she had
lent her. Whatever small bosom it concealed, it
was practically unnoticeable.
	"With all those men around, you never felt
..."  The older woman paused for the right word
to describe what she herself had felt at that age
"desires."
	"Being raised as a boy, I never did feel
toward other boys what girls are supposed to
feel,"  John concluded.  "And the only man who
ever tried to put his hands on me was an old
Sergeant a year or so back. And that was because
he thought I was a boy.  I never gave him the
chance to find out otherwise."
	Remembering what she, Ashley had to
force herself to think of John as that, had done to
the two Union soldiers, she shuddered to think
what had happened to the sodomite inclined
Sergeant.
	"It's all so unbelievable,"  Ashley said.
	"I guess that sort of changes your plans for
tonight,"  John apologized. "I'm sorry."
	"It doesn't have to,"  Ashley said, a
mischievous gleam in her eye.

	Years ago, when Ashley had been at Miss
Thompson's School for Young Ladies, she had
learned a marvelous secret.  Fourteen and filled
with the urges that came with emerging
womanhood, she had been taught by one of the
older girls a lesson in how to deal with those
newly discovered drives.  It was a lesson that
definitely hadn't been part of the school's
curriculum.
	The girl, whose name she remembered
was Leslie Ann Barnes, was two years older than
Ashley.  One cold winter night, long after Miss
Thompson and the rest of the staff had retired for
the evening, Leslie had slipped into Ashley's room.
With a gentle hand, the older girl had taught her
how to satisfy those urges in a way that would
allow her to go to her future wedding bed still a
virgin.
	In the months that had followed,  Ashley
spent many quiet nights exploring both her body
and that of Leslie, learning how to both receive
and give pleasure.  In time, those sessions grew to
also include some of the other girls that Leslie had
taught.  Only her summons home the following
summer to help care for her younger brothers
after her Mother's passing ended the sharing
aspect of her special education.  At least until she
married Stephen.

	"Do you trust me?"  Ashley asked John.
	"Yes," she answered.
	"Then just relax and let me show you
something I learned when I was about your age.
Something wondrous."

	Ashley unbuttoned her brother's borrowed
shirt, discovering a thick bandage wrapped around
John's chest, an important part of her male
identity.  Carefully she undid the covering until
John's small breasts were exposed to the warm
night air.  	Ashley thought they were so much
nicer than her own, firm and compact with bright
pink nipples at the center.  She ran her fingers
over both nipples, feeling them grow hard at her
touch.
	"Mmmm,"  John moaned at the first touch
of a hand not her own.  "That feels nice."
	"I know things that feel even nicer,"
Ashley smiled, remembering the nights spent with
Leslie.
	An expression long absent appeared on
John's face and an emotion thought dead filled her
breast.  An emotion called Joy.
	Ashley kissed the tips of John's small
breasts, tickling them with her tongue.  All the
while her fingers massaged the soft flesh around
them, sending a tingling sensation across the
younger girl's chest.
	John was wrong, Ashley decided, when
she insinuated that the she had an unattractive
body.  True, she hadn't been gifted with those
attributes that men so prized, but out of her filthy
uniform and cleaned of all the grime, she was
very cute.
	As she continued to play with John's
breasts, Ashley became aware of John's hands on
her own.  The smaller girl began hesitantly
touching the larger mounds.
	"It's all right if you want to play with
them,"  Ashley laughed.  "In fact I'd like it if you
did.  I'd like it even more if you kissed them."
	John's eyes lit up as she brought her head
down to Ashley's bosom and began licking and
kissing the warm flesh.  If anything, Ashley
thought, she resembled an even younger girl
suddenly playing with a new toy.
	"You're doing very well,"  Ashley
complimented. "Just kiss them like you were
kissing someone's lips."
	"I've never done that," John said as she
suddenly stopped what she was doing.
	"You've never kissed anyone?"  a surprised
Ashley asked.
	"Just my Mama and Papa,"  John
answered, "but I don't think that really counts,
does it?"
	"No dear, it doesn't,"  Ashley said,
thinking that she had kissed her first boy at
thirteen.
	Yet when she thought about it, Ashley
shouldn't had been surprised at John's admission.
After all, growing up masquerading as a boy, who
would she have had the chance to kiss.
	"Well that's something we'll have to
change right now."
	Ashley sat John up on the bed and pressed
their lips gently together.  It was a brief kiss, the
kind John had seen her parents give each other
hundreds of times.
	"That was nice," John said as their lips
parted.  "Can we do it again?"
	"Of course,"  Ashley promised,  "but this
time, I want you to open your lips.  You're going
to feel my tongue in your mouth.  When you do, I
want you to tickle it with your tongue. Do you
understand?"
	"I think so,"  said John, now eager to try
anything Ashley suggested.
As their lips touched, then opened to allow their
tongues entry, Ashley remembered the first time
she had tried this with Leslie.  Back then, she had
been the one in John's position.  To her delight,
the excitement of the moment was no less with the
situation reversed.
	They kissed three more times, each
embrace longer than the last.  A world never
imagined was opening for John, one that she
wanted to explore to the fullest.
	They kissed a fourth time as Ashley totally
undid John's belt and help her out of her pants.
The girl wore no underwear.  Ashley didn't
remember seeing any when she had earlier taken
away her dirty clothes.  The question of how John
handled her time of the month came to mind, but
she quickly dismissed it as a question she could
always ask later.
	Ashley's hand, now much rougher than she
would've liked it because of all the labor she did
daily, moved between John's legs.  No longer
surprised by what she found there, she quickly
found that most sensitive of spots and began
rubbing it with her fingers.
	"Oh, that is wonderful,"  John gushed,
remembering Ashley's earlier promise.
	"Is it better like this?"  Ashley asked as she
moved her fingers in a different way.  "Or do you
like to do it like this instead?"
	"I've never done this either,"  John said.
	This, Ashley found harder to believe than
the fact that John had never kissed before.  How
could a woman, even a hidden one, not even
accidentally discovered the pleasures her own
body was capable of.  Even before her first night
with Leslie, Ashley had know that it felt good
when she touched herself there.
	Yet John insisted that it was true.  She
knew that men could pleasure themselves.  Many
times, late at night she had heard fellow soldiers
moaning in pleasure as they played with their
cocks.  The first time she had heard it, she had
quietly crept close enough to actually see what her
fellow soldier was doing to produce such a
reaction.  Knowing that she lacked the equipment
to do that to herself, she wrongly assumed that
only men could do it.  In her sheltered life, she had
never known a woman who could tell her
different.
	"You actually watched a man play with
himself?"  Ashley asked, thinking that she had not
even seen her husband do that.  He would've been
too embarrassed to have let her watch.
	John replied that she had watched it a few
times.  It had fascinated her.  Even more shocking
to Ashley, but seemingly just part of army life to
John, the young woman described watching men
perform on each other the same unspeakable act
that Sergeant Rourke had threatened Ashley with.
	Once, John added, she had even seen an
older soldier couple with a younger one in the way
men normally joined with a woman.  It was from
that example that John had immediately
understood what the older man had in mind when
he tried to lure her into a similar secluded spot.

	The thought that men might orally please
each other brought a totally new thought to
Ashley.  Could a woman do that to another
woman?  The idea of doing that to any man, even
her late husband made Ashley ill.  Yet the
prospect of trying it on the young woman sharing
her bed filled her with excitement.
	"John," she asked softly, "what those men
did to each other with their mouths, would it
bother you if I tried that with you?"
	John immediately agreed. In her simple
way of thinking, she reasoned that if women could
please each other with their hands the same way
she had seen men do, they use their mouths as
well.

	Ashley parted John's legs over the side of
the bed and got down on her own knees.  She
bushed the thick bush of hair covering the smaller
girls mound, then moved her face close enough to
kiss it.  Following her own earlier advice to John,
she kissed it as if she was kissing a lover on the
lips, pressings her tongue deep between the folds
of the teen's womanhood.
	The effect on both of them was immediate
and electric as they shared a bond deeper than
either had ever known.  Not even Leslie in their
most passionate embrace had ever suggested
anything like this.
	Using her fingers in conjunction with her
tongue, Ashley brought pleasures to the girl on
the bed that John had never imagined.  Pleasures
that Ashley joined in as the nectars of John's
excitement filled her mouth.
	Time passed and the strength of those
pleasures grew until the smaller girl felt her body
convulse with an intensity she had only seen in
men dying on the battlefield.  Only in this case, the
joy of life rather than the despair of death now
consumed her body.

	"What happened to me?"  John asked
breathlessly as her body stopped quaking.
	"You had a climax," Ashley said as she sat
next to John, her own heart beating almost as
rapidly.
	"A climax?"  John repeated, unsure of the
meaning of the new word.  "Is that the same as
those men playing with themselves had?"
	"Yes, my dear, it was."
	"Then I think a climax is the most
wondrous thing of all."
	Ashley just smiled, she wasn't going to
contest that point.  Nor was she going to argue a
few moments later when John asked if she could
try and do the same thing to her.



(missing parts may be found at)

Ann Douglas Web Page

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Ann_Douglas/www/

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