index


Message-ID: <47939asstr$1085199002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 051 Duty (MMFf)
Lines: 424
Date: Sat, 22 May 2004 00:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d




<1st attachment, "Rebel 051.txt" begin>

Rebel 051 Strenuous Duty (MMFf)

More Strenuous Duty

	The British continued to harass us, pressing us back in our 
retreat.  My company was usually doing rear-guard duty.  One day, 
a week or so after my enjoyment of the girl in the barn, a pleasure 
my aching cock still recalled early in the morning, we swooped down 
on the supply train of a Redcoat regiment and were deep into pillage 
and plunder when a bunch of dragoons appeared out of nowhere, 
and we had to fight for our lives and then flee, every man for 
himself, abandoning our loot.  They ran off our horses, and I 
scrambled into the woods with the lieutenant right at my heels.

	We had almost reached the brushline when he screamed an 
oath and crumpled, rolling back and forth in pain.  I dropped my 
musket, scooped him up, tossed him over my shoulder and ran as 
hard as I could for as long at I could, until I thought my lungs would 
burst.  When I reached a small stream, I stopped and together we 
found he had been shot in the thigh, just above the knee and that 
the ball was still in him. I offered to cut it out, but he took one look 
at my big knife and declined so I bandaged him as well and tightly as 
I could. His boot was full of blood.  

	Two days later, two very wet and hungry days, we emerged 
in some pasture land, and I spied a barn in the distance.  As we 
made our three-legged way toward it and the house became visible, 
I was surprised to see that I had returned to the site of a recent 
lusty coupling, a well-remembered horse-stall pleasure that sent 
blood coursing into my groin.  I hauled the lieutenant into the shade 
and went to the back door.

	The cook recognized me, having given me a number of pies, 
rewards for serving the mistress so well, but said the lady of the 
house was not at home and that her daughter, Miss Julie, was up in 
her room with the miseries.  I clomped up the stairs and tried doors 
until I found the girl.

	"What are you doing here," she squealed, turning from her 
mirror where she had been brushing her long hair.  She was bare 
except for a lacy shift, and I just stood and admired her bulbous 
charms and pear-shaped body for a while, wondering if I should 
toss her on the bed and swive her or get help for my feverish 
officer. It was a difficult decision.

	"Don't remember me, do you?" I asked, and she squinted and 
cocked her head.

	"Yes I do," she said, nodding.  "Now I do.  You ran off.  
Didn't even, but you're a soldier, a rebel."  She stood, brush still in 
her hand, and I enjoyed watching her pointed breasts jiggle and her 
nipples harden.  She was barefoot, and the top of her curly head 
barely reached my chin.  Her hair flowed nearly to her waist.

	"Yep," I said, "that's me, and I need some help.  I've got a 
wounded man out in the barn.

	She stepped to me, bending her neck to look up.  "You 
certainly are dirty," she said with a grin.

	I bent and kissed her, holding her shoulders and slipping the 
straps from them.  "And you need to shave," she said, shrugging 
the thin shift-straps back where she wanted them as I fingered her 
breasts.  "Go on; I'll get dressed."  She shooed me out, and I 
headed back to the barn, ignoring my erection. 
	
	By nightfall a doctor had been summoned and with a long 
probe that looked like an ice pick, got the deformed ball out of Lt. 
Foster's leg, cauterized the wound he had enlarged and bandaged 
the thigh.  Julie had watched all this despite the doctor's pleas for 
her to go away.  Foster had been on his belly for most of the 
operation, biting on a thick piece of leather while I held him down, 
but then we rolled him over so he could sit up and be bandaged.  
That was when the girl got a good look at his impressive member 
and made a wry face, catching my eye.  Foster was undoubtedly 
part stallion for even in repose his manhood was startling indeed, 
much the size, shape and color of a blood sausage.

	They fed us and I helped the lieutenant up to my loft bed and 
then went back to the house, hoping I would be invited to lie 
between a pair of young legs.  But Mother was home, and she was 
unhappy.

	"You deceived me, sirrah," was the first thing she said to me.  
"You are a damned rebel, and I want you away from here as soon 
as possible.  You are to have no more traffic with this idiot girl.  
Shame on you for taking advantage of her." She jerked her thumb at 
her sad-eyed daughter.  "And stay out of sight."  She flounced from 
her sitting room, hauling Julie with her.  The girl looked at me over 
her mother's shoulder and essayed a small smile.

	Two days later all hell broke loose.  The master of the house, a 
very successful trader in the city that I had seen but once before, 
bewigged and frock-coated, arrived in a fancy carriage with five 
enemy officers, two Redcoats and three black-uniformed Germans.  
There was a lot of hustle and bustle as preparations were made for a 
dinner for the visiting dignitaries.

	Foster was a good bit better, eating like a horse and grumbling 
about the bed while I had been sleeping on the floor in a quilt and 
dreaming of pliant girls.  The visiting group evidently had been 
drinking on the way north and kept right on drinking apple jack so 
that by the time the candles were lit, the goose cooked and the silver 
laid, the Germans were fiercely singing incomprehensible songs and 
the two Brits were passed out in the sitting room, sprawled near the 
fireplace.  One of them had vomited on the floor covering.

	That is when I heard a scream and looked out of our small 
window to see Julie, dress nearly torn from her back, come running 
into the barn yard with two black-coated men in hot pursuit, their 
belts flapping.  From the house came another female cry so I hurried 
down the ladder, hoping the lieutenant would follow, drew my big 
knife and charged out into the twilight gloom.  The men had trapped 
the crying Julie near the well and were taking turns ripping away 
her clothes, laughing and tossing shreds of cloth in all directions.  
One had already torn open his codpiece and produced his turgid 
prick so their intent was obvious.

	The girl saw me coming just before I drove my blade into one 
attacker, thrusting up to carve his heart.  He fell with most of the 
girl's bodice in his fist as the other German drew his straight sword 
and cursed loudly.  Fortunately for me, he was not too firm on his 
feet, and I had little trouble stepping inside his wild swing, grabbing 
his wrist and gutting him like a fish.  

	The girl stood, bare breasted, head down and hands on her 
knees.  I patted her sturdy back and wiped my blade on my thigh.  
Then came an explosion from the house, the sound of a gunshot, so I 
took her by the wrist and ran, her feet barely touching the ground 
and her big, puffball breasts flopping wildly when we reached the 
back door.

	I pulled the door open and a big German in his shirt-sleeves 
staggered out and fell on his face with Foster right behind him, a 
smoking pistol in his hand.

	"Stupid bastard," the lieutenant said.  "He'd put this thing 
aside to grapple with the lady."

	"Mother!" Julie screamed and ran into the house. Foster 
backed up and watched her squeeze past him with a smile.

	"What about the other two?" I asked.

	"Haven't seen `em," Foster said, wobbling a bit.  I helped him 
to sit down and went on inside.  The two women were huddled 
together near a center-hall doorway.  I heard someone hurrying 
down the stairs and then a man ran into the room, holding up his 
breeches at his paunchy belly.

	"What's going on?" he yelled.  "I heard a shot."

	"Your guests decided to rape your women," I said, and he 
looked at me goggle-eyed.

	"Who the devil are you?" he demanded, stuffing in his ruffled 
shirt and doing a waist button.

	"Nobody," I said as one of the lounging British officers 
stretched and yawned in the sitting room behind him.

	"What happened here?" he asked more quietly.  "Your dress is 
torn," he said to his wife.  She ignored him and took her bare-
chested daughter to the foot of the steps.

	"Get those men out of my house," she said quietly.  One of the 
slave girls passed the mother and daughter on the stairs, adjusting 
her clothes and smiling.

	"There's three dead Germans out there," I told the man.  
"While you were horsing that little black girl, they attacked your 
wife and daughter."

	"Can't believe it," the man said.  "Dead?"

	"Who's dead?" asked a large red-coated colonel, getting to his 
feet and buttoned his tight-fitting jacket.  His face was red and his 
voice slurred.

	Lt. Foster returned, having reloaded his big pistol.  He leaned 
on the doorjamb and surveyed the scene.  "Now what?" he asked.

	"You're rebels," the florid Redcoat said, pulling his sword with 
a grating rasp.  Foster raised his pistol and blew off the top of his 
head, spraying the wall and ceiling with blood and brains.  The gun 
made a terrific noise in the room and woke the other British officer.  
I stepped behind the man's chair, lifted his chin and cut his throat 
right to left, spraying the rug and his boots with blood.

	"Are you mad?" the shaken businessman said, looking at the 
two bodies on the bloody floor of his well-decorated sitting room.

	"Just soldiers," I said, wiping my blade on the back of the man 
I had killed as he sat slumped over, arms and head dangling.  
"Doing our job."

	I led the man out to the barn and tied him to a post.  I 
suggested he make himself comfortable and said that we would 
decide what to do with him in the morning.  He did not say much of 
anything.  Then I got some of the hands to help me load the five 
bodies into the waiting carriage.  "Take them to the river," I told the 
driver and his helper, "dump them in." I gave them each a coin from 
one of the five purses I had collected.  I was quite wealthy for a 
brief while.

	Then I helped Foster up to Julie's room, pulled off his boots 
and put him on her bed.  I found the two women in the mother's 
bedroom, asked the girl to take a look at the lieutenant's wound, 
and got a fine smile from her as she left, holding her torn dress 
together over her high bosom.

	"Did you kill him?" the woman asked, "my husband?"

	ÔNo," I said gently, helping her strip off her ruined dress and 
kissing her from time to time.  "He's safe out in the barn."

	"Where are the others?" she asked as I pulled the torn shift 
over her head and she shook loose her hair.

	"In the river," I said, holding her lush, warm body to mine, 
exploring its hills and valleys.

	"All of them?" she asked, pushing me back to the side of the 
bed.

	I nodded as she unbuttoned my foreflap and flicked out my 
impatient member.  She crawled up on my lap, got her knees back 
beside my rump and impaled herself with barely a grunt, holding my 
eyes as she did.

	"I've missed you," she sighed as she began sliding up and 
down on my straining meat, and I nuzzled her luscious breasts and 
licked her nipples, flexing it in her with each thrust.  In and out, in 
and out, in and out. I held her round buttocks and simply enjoyed 
myself.  "Hah, hah, hah," she cried with each downstroke.  Once 
she had climaxed with her forehead bent to my chest, she rolled off 
and covered herself while I undressed.

	"What are you going to do to him?" she asked, holding my 
slack member while I groped her soft breast and thought about her 
daughter's globes that, I suspected, Foster was mashing while he 
plowed her.

	"What do you suggest?" I asked as I got my mind back into 
my own bed and began to harden under her delicate strokes.

	"He's a randy fool," she said, spreading her knees and pulling 
me to her.  "Thoroughly unfaithful."

	"Widowhood might suit you," I said as she lodged my 
weapon's outsized head in her juicy quim, and she wiggled beneath 
me, helping me get comfortable in the saddle and sink the thick, hard 
shaft all the way into her.

	"I've thought of that many times," she said, "Slowly now."  
And we were off again, soon cantering.

	While I was pleasing her, I could hear the rope bed in the next 
room begin to thump and groan.  Julie squealed once and then the 
bedstead just thumped and thumped, faster and faster, on its one 
uneven leg.  I tried to match their pace, but failed as the mistress of 
the house died beneath me with a smile on her face, and Julie 
howled out her pleasure causing my busy member to flex an extra 
time or two.

	"That was grand, wonderful,' Dee moaned, rolling out to use 
the jar.  We joined once more before we slept as she insisted I take 
her from behind.  I awoke with Foster standing beside the bed, 
tapping my shoulder and wearing just his shirt and bandage.  The 
swollen head of his huge member hung well below his shirttail.

	"Girl wants to see you," he whispered, as I rolled out, fully 
engorged. He looked at my outsized prod and raised an eyebrow. 
"By damn'me," he said quietly. "it's bigger n'mine."  Then he took 
my place beside the warm, sleeping woman, conforming his body to 
hers and making his ram disappear between her rounded cheeks 
and thick thighs.

	Julie's room was dark, curtains closed, but I found the bed and 
followed my long, hard cock into it.

	"He's nice," the girl said, using her hands to discover my 
mouth.  "But he's still weak.  I had to suck him once.  He was very 
grateful, thought he might cry."  Her hand slid down my belly and 
found my hot spear. It jumped when she touched it.  "Oh," she said, 
feeling its enormous head.  "I can't believe that."  She rolled out and 
pulled back one of the curtains while I lay on my back with my 
outsized tool throbbing above my belly, looking for all the world like 
some unsheeted bowsprit.  She crawled in, crouched above it and 
bent to take its purple head in her mouth while she held the 
overheated stalk with both hands.  Her melon-like breasts just hung 
there for my hands' pleasure.

	She let it slide from her lips, licked it once and then posed on all 
fours, rump raised.  "Maybe we'd better try this way," she said as 
we heard a yelp and a groan from the next room.

	Eagerly I got behind her, spread her legs a bit, carefully seated 
my root and bent to hold her globular breasts as I rammed it slowly 
into her.  She gasped as her nipples hardened between my fingers, 
but I kept pushing and soon had her bouncing on the bed, taking 
long and hard thrusts into her young and anxious body.  Her moist 
cunny seemed to stretch in and out with my eager spearing.  She 
came soon after we began and then climaxed again before I was 
ready to ejaculate.

	"Wait, wait," she cried, trying to wiggle away.  "I forgot." she 
reached a small white envelope from the bedside table and handed 
to me as I thrust back into her trembling tunnel after almost losing 
my seat.  "My mother has a whole box of these. Put it on."

	I tumbled a soft, French letter out into my hand, withdrew my 
soggy but rigid pole, slipped on the condom, which only went about 
half way down my shaft, tied the string and then got back to work.  
When I came, pumping like a mine engine, she squealed with 
pleasure bucking back and forth against me.  I pulled the thing off 
and dropped it beside the bed where four others lay.  She handed 
me another and helped me tie it on while my satisfied member 
quivered.

	She petted me back up while I enjoyed her over-sized breasts 
and then I rolled her to her back and had her the way I most enjoy, 
face to face, ramming like a fool.

	After a quick breakfast, I sicced Foster on the girl while I 
horsed her mother at the foot of her bed.  Then we went to the 
barn to see to our prisoner, all four of us.

	"John." his wife said to him as he stood to meet us, his arms 
still bound behind the post.  "These men don't know what to do 
with you."

	ÔYou'll pay for this, both of you," he cried, spitting out the 
words.  "You stupid bitches.  If you had entertained those men 
properly, we'd be rich.  They were the quartermasters, the men 
who decided.  You fools."

	"You wanted your wife and daughter to lie with those crude 
beasts?" she asked, looking back at me.

	"Of course," he yelled at her.  "What was wrong with them?"

	The woman just shook her head, took her daughter and 
walked back to the house.  "Flip you," Foster said, after they had 
gone inside.

	"Heads," I said as the coin rose.  He slapped it between his 
palms and showed me.  

	"You win," he said, putting the coin in his pocket and limping 
off toward the house, scratching at his groin.

	"What are you going to do?" the man asked, looking 
frightened for the first time.

	"You are going to have an accident, a bad accident, a fatal one 
I fear," I said, "A fatal accident.  Your wife will make a fine widow, 
and I'm sure your daughter will look good in black."  I searched 
around, saw an old, rusty, five-tined pitchfork hanging on the wall 
and decided it would have to do.

	"Don't!" the man begged.  "I'll give you anything.  Please."

	I ignored his tearful cries and pushed three, thick curved tines 
into his body just under his ribs and shoved upwards until I had him 
pinned to the post, ignoring his pleading and thrashing about. He 
screamed and screamed.  I braced the butt on the ground, untied his 
hands and let him fall.  One bloody spear came through his neck, the 
other two high on his back.  He was still blubbering, kicking and 
screaming when I went and found one of the farmhands.

	"Been an accident," I said, handing the gray-haired man a 
heavy coin.  "Master fell on a steel fork back there.  Better go look.  
Think he hurt himself."

	The man smiled at me, pocketed the coin and shuffled off 
slowly toward the barn, carrying his hoe.

	Julie was waiting for me just inside the back door. "They've 
gone up to her room," she said, reaching up to put her arms around 
my neck and mash her big breasts against my chest.  We kissed, my 
hands filled with her firm ass.

	"Your father had an accident I'm afraid," I said, pushing her 
back to the wall, my thigh massaging her damp groin.

	"Did he?" she said with a smile, working on my foreflap 
buttons.

	"Um hm," I said, undoing her skirt in the back so it fell to her 
ankles.  She kicked it away and helped my ram jump out into the 
daylight.  Then she dropped to her knees, held up her magnificent 
breasts and pressed them together around it and took it into her 
mouth, rolling her tongue about its rearing head as I moved it back 
and forth between her soft globes.  She seemed to enjoy sucking the 
thing and was awfully good at it; lots of practice I suppose.

	I pulled loose and got her to her feet, raising her shift as she 
spread her legs and lifted her hips.  We grabbed each other by the 
buttocks as we joined and arched to surge together until we fell to 
the floor, rolling back and forth and ramming our bodies into each 
other until we both were spent.  Then I carried her up to her bed.

	Foster and I stayed with the women until the inquest was 
finished and the pronouncement of accidental death made.  We took 
turns on them, enjoying their bodies to the fullest, leaving them 
highly satisfied, and parted sorrowfully, promising to try to return, 
their supply of French letters nearly exhausted.

	

<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+


  index