Message-ID: <48113asstr$1086387002@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <oldbill2@comcast.net> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com From: oldbill2@comcast.net X-Original-Message-ID: <060420041236.23041.40C06CB90005B0C000005A012200750744CD0404070D0B0401@comcast.net> X-Authenticated-Sender: b2xkYmlsbDJAY29tY2FzdC5uZXQ= X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 04 Jun 2004 12:36:09 +0000 Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 069 Spinster (MF hist) Lines: 334 Date: Fri, 4 Jun 2004 18:10:02 -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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/48113> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman <1st attachment, "Rebel 069 spinster.txt" begin> Von R 16 The Spinster "Now," the old madam said, "this is a special case." "You always say that," I told her with a smile. She hit me with her fan. "This young woman really is especially special, you impertinent cur. Wait until you see her; you will understand. And she may be in serious trouble. I can't really tell from her note. She has been useful to us, very useful. Go quickly, do whatever she tells you." I went quickly where I was told, arrived late at night, stabled my horse and curled up on the loft, just about to fall asleep when a cry came from the dark house. "No, please, please," the female voice yelped. A man cackled and there was a slap and a deep and lecherous laugh. I got my britches and boots back on and crossed the stableyard to the back door, hitching on my heavy belt. The door gave to my shoulder and I hurried up the back stairs and down the hall to the room where the weeping was coming from. Someone was using a whip on human flesh from the sound of it. Just as I got there, the door was flung open and a young woman in a frilly nightgown was thrust into the hall followed by a naked man carried a half-shuttered lamp and a leather quirt. The girl grabbed my arm whimpering, and I took the man's blow on my other forearm, kicked him in his fat belly and then spun him down the main stairway. He turned over twice, arms and legs flailing, lamp flying into space, thumping and banging the tread, and landed heavily in the front hall, unconscious if not dead. The lamp went out. I patted the girl, looking briefly into her luminous eyes, noted the bright stripes on her shoulder and jutting breasts, and hurried down the stairs, my bayonet in my hand. Seeing that he was breathing, I prodded his ribs with my toe and he roused himself. "Who are you?" he demanded in a quaking voice. He was grossly fat and nearly hairless, a bald, flabby specimen in the faint light. "Get up,' I said to him. "Go get something on. I want some answers." "Stop him," the girl cried from the landing above. "Don't let him hit me." "She's just excited," the man said as he lumbered up the stairs. The young woman fled to her room and slammed the door. I followed, introduced myself, and she sobbed and hugged me, a very pleasant experience for she was a well-made young woman and wearing very little. I patted her back and let my hand stroke her rounded buttocks. The newly-inflicted welts on her shoulder were red and raw. "Anyone else in the house?" I asked. She shook her head. "Servants?" "Outside," she said. "Slaves, two of them and a groom, in the quarters." "Come," I said and I took her hand and led her down the hall to the man's room where a candle glowed. The missing lamp came to my mind and sent the girl to fetch it while I pushed the man into a chair and sat on his high bed, pondering. The girl returned quickly and sat on a straight-backed chair. I opened the lantern wide. "What's going on?" I asked her. "He wants me to, to," she sniffed and hung her head, "I can't say it." "Who is he?" I asked her, waving the man to silence with my big knife. "My guardian, legal guardian," she said. "My parents are in England. He's a Tory; they favor Pitt." "How old are you?" I asked her, a bit confused. She was an authentic beauty but so soft I wondered if she were not little more than a large child. "Twenty, nearly twenty," she said. "A spinster." She smiled briefly. I turned my attention to the man. "Explain yourself," I said. "She's very disobedient. I wanted to teach her some manners." He looked sullen and frightened. "In the dark of night? With a whip? Naked?" ÔI have the right," he said. "Who the hell are you?" "A soldier," I said, "and her friend." "A rebel you mean, just as she is, disloyal, a traitor to her class." "This your house?" I asked the man. "Yes, of course," he said. "She is leaving," I said. "You are to send her things later, all of them, carefully packed, her clothes and whatever else is hers. I will tell you where and when later. If you fail, I will return and feed you your liver and lights." "But," the girl said. "Get your jewelry, anything you must have and go dress to travel," I told her quietly. "Now?" she asked. "It's nearly midnight." "Now," I said. "Be quick." I chivvied the man down into his dank cellar, tied his wrists to his ankles and locked him in. His servants would find him in the morning I was sure. Then I saddled the horse the girl wanted, got her astride as I enjoyed the feel of her body and legs, and we rode carefully and slowly northward, along roads seldom patrolled or blocked. By the false dawn, we had traveled perhaps five miles at little more than a walk, and we stopped at the first tavern showing some light. While we broke our fast, she told me her story. Her guardian, she had concluded, had discovered she was sending the madam messages in code and, she had also recently figured out, he wanted her body and had a few odd and very painful tastes when it came to sex. I certainly could understand any man's interest in her body for it was lush and vibrant. "I need to sleep," she said. "I nearly fell from the saddle." I rented us a room, and she doffed her skirt, jacket and stays and rolled under the quilts. I sat in a chair admiring her, and we both slept. The sun was high when I awoke, used the privy and got myself some food. I was standing at the bar when a couple of nasty looking militiamen marched in and questioned the innkeeper about a pair of travelers, a tall man and a fair-haired woman. The tavern owner glanced at me, said, "He's tall enough but he ain't got no woman." The armed men regarded me briefly and then left. I put a crown on the bar and the man handed it back to me. "Better go see to her," he said. When I re-entered the room, she was sitting on the side of the bed, running her fingers through her long hair. With the light behind her, she looked angelic as well as desirable. "They are out looking for you," I said. She looked up, her eyes wide. "We'd better either cut off your hair or dye it. They have, I fear, a description." She nodded. "Something else. I was serious about being a spinster." I must have looked stupid. "I'm a maiden, a virgin," she said. "If I'm going to work with the madam, that needs to change." I sat beside her and took her hand. "I've been holding them off for years," she said, giving me a small smile. "Since I was fifteen or so, just giving promises and excuses." I felt myself hardening, bulging painfully. "You sure?" I asked. "You could do it for yourself." "I'm a coward, besides I'm sure it's not the same thing." "If that's what you wish," I said. "I'd be honored." My fevered brain was panting and drooling. My palms itched for her virginal flesh. She sniffed and nodded. I got out of my boots and britches in record time and turned to face her, my extended probe pointed right at her chin, jumping and flexing, looking a yard long I expect and much like a knotty club. She glanced at it and then up at me. "You won't hurt me," she said quietly, reaching out a finger and touching its mushroom head. It jumped and she made a small noise. I reached down and helped her strip her shift over her head. Her body was heart stopping, her breasts high and noble, her belly a soft puff, her waist tiny, her hips generous, mounded and beckoning. Then she rolled under the covers, showing me her lovely buttocks and deeply trenched back. I got even harder. I was in there beside her without hesitation, my prong bumped her legs and navel almost at once, fiery hot, rock hard, oozing lubricant. We held each other, kissed and petted gently and then kissed more forcefully and probed more insistently. I sucked her small breasts and fingered her tidy quim and when she moaned, "I'm ready," I mounted her, and she reached between us and brought my spear point to her dripping opening. The blunt head pushed between her pouting lips, and she gasped and arched when it penetrated her, spreading her open. I held it there, vibrating, eager, tightly confined. I pushed her knees back toward her shoulders, lifting her hips as I thrust my rigid prod deeper into her quivering channel. She made a series of small noises in her throat, wriggling her hips and moaning, " "Ah, ah, ah." I released her legs and she wrapped them about me, her feet pressing on my buttocks as I rubbed my spear gently but steadily just within her virgin cunny, its ridged head stimulating her flesh, perhaps three inches deep. I could feel her flesh spreading to welcome the huge invader, her juices flowing, her heat increasing. Holding my weight on my elbows, I paused and enjoyed the feel of the tight-fitting territory I had won, thrusting barely an inch or two into her, in and out, in and out as gently as possible, lifting and making sure I was rubbing her tenderest parts, until she came, spasming hard, twisting under me and arching her back, eyes closed and mouth open, just exhaling gently. When she calmed and her breathing returned to nearly normal, I withdrew a bit, bent and kissed her, said, "This may hurt at first," and sank my prong all the way into her, deep and tight, very tight indeed. Not having had much experience with virgins, I had been prepared for an outcry when I tore through her hymen, but it never came, and we were soon in complete concert, rocking and heaving together, enjoying our youth and strength. I could feel the warmth of what I assumed was her virginal blod on my horn. She climaxed again after we had ground our pubic bones and chests together for a while, and I could feel my stones churning and the pace of my strokes increasing toward my own climax as our bodies slapped and mashed at each other. "Ah, ah," she gasped, "Please, please, don't, don't come in me, please, it's wonderful, but, please, please, but don't, ah, please." She shuddered in the throes of her surging orgasm, and I slowly withdrew my blood-hot member from her throbbing grasp and rose to sit on the bedside, my back bent and my whole body aching with need, my blood-stained cock in one hand and my turgid stones in the other. I squeezed at the base of my rigid member and hoped the tremor would pass, pressing hard on the nether vein, feeling it throb. Almost at once she was on her knees before me, her hands on my hairy thighs and my straining pike's head in her mouth. I took my hand away, burying it in her hair, came in a series of jolting spurts, and she licked and swallowed as I did, her eyes closed. I felt her teeth raking my shaft, her tongue circling its blunt head, and she sucked and gulped until I was done, moving her head up and down on my hard pole, her blond hair covering us both. I was thoroughly shaken and quite amazed. Finally, I softened and slid from between her lips, and we crawled back under the quilts and held each other. "I've done that before," she said quietly, "sucked a man." I kissed her nose. "I could tell," I said. She giggled. "You were, I don't know," she said, "you were awfully strong, much more than I expected, much more." I held her and kept my peace. "Can we do it again?" she asked quietly. "I think we should get on to the madam's home," I said. "What about your hair?" "I'd forgotten. All I can think about is what we just did. It felt like you were going to split me open, invade my throat from beneath." After some conversation and consideration, the inn-keeper found a old, full-bottomed wig, some leather breeches and a discarded coat some guest had left behind and surely never missed, and we outfitted the girl so that she looked more like a beggar than a beauty. With a floppy hat atop her raked out wig, she mounted, her face mud-daubed, and we rode to the madam's without incident. She was greeted by the old lady and her bevy of "neices" with cries and kisses, and I was dismissed as a shaggy miscreant, hardly worth consideration when so lovely an addtion to their corps was being welcomed. But that night she came to my hideaway in the cellar and crawled onto my cot after leaving her long nightgown on my splintered chair. Her mouth closed on mine and our bodies meshed warmly and greedily. "Um," she sighed, "they told me, the girls did, about you. They talk about you as if you were their dog." She lay athwart me, her knees at my hips, her breasts pressed against my chest, her mouth at my throat. I managed to roll her over, rise on extended arms and enjoy her fully before we were done, and when the time came, she held me to her and let me ejaculate deeply within her, pumping her full of my warm jism. War is just terrible sometimes, the thing we have to do. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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