Message-ID: <48148asstr$1086617402@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: <060720041257.15386.40C4664700075F4E00003C1A2200734830CD0404070D0B0401@comcast.net> X-Authenticated-Sender: b2xkYmlsbDJAY29tY2FzdC5uZXQ= X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 07 Jun 2004 12:57:43 +0000 Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 072 parade (MFFF) Lines: 358 Date: Mon, 7 Jun 2004 10:10:02 -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/Year2004/48148> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, hoisingr <1st attachment, "Rebel 072 parade.txt" begin> Rebel 072 (Old Bill) (MFFF hist) The Parade "Something odd is going on over in Wessextown," the old lady said. "You've nothing useful to do. Go investigate." I gobbled down my breakfast, tended to my horse and weapons and was on my way before the sun topped the trees. Wessex was a small, tidy town with a pleasant square, a white church, two taverns, a sawmill and a respected potter. I headed for the larger tavern and had a good beer. The place was empty but it was barely noon. "Yer jus' in time f'the show," the publican said as he wiped his hands on his filthy apron. I lifted an eyebrow. "Think it'll be the dark-haired one t'day," he said, stepping to his front door. I followed with my beer in my fist. "She's the best a'the bunch." From the far end of the dusty street came a well-dressed rider on a thin-legged horse. The man wore a long, well-tailored coat and a tri-cornered hat. His breeches were fawn-colored and tight-fitting and his high boots shone. Following him and tethered to his offside stirrup was a young woman, a naked woman with long, black hair. She wore nothing but short boots. Her hands were tied together, and she held them down over the thick triangle of dark hair below her belly. Her breasts were large and heavy with dark circles about her prominent nipples; they bobbled as she proceeded. She was a very fine looking woman if a bit heavy in the haunches. Her mouth was closed in a thin line and the towrope was knotted about her neck. She had to trot to keep up with the rider, bouncing her breasts and her belly as she did, a very stimulating sight. From one house and then another came a man or a woman or, in one case, two children, to devil the naked woman. They hit her with switches, threw buckets of garbage on her, cursed and riled at her, laughed and pointed or tried to trip her. One man struck her buttocks three times with a riding crop. I could hear the thing smack her ripe flesh with sharp crack, and she jumped with each blow but did not cry out. And I felt my manhood stir at the sight of her and her distress. I was, briefly, ashamed of myself as I watched her near, her young flesh exposed for the world's pleasure. The rider, a haughty man of perhaps sixty years, looking neither right or left, dragged her right past the front of the tavern. The woman, head down so that her hair nearly covered her face, hurried along after him, still trying to conceal her privates with her bound hands, her large breasts dangling. From the other side of the lane a woman stepped from her home with several brambles in her fist and hit the bent woman on the back and buttocks two or three times, leaving bloody spots where she struck. The bound woman stood up straight and glared at her, still stumbling along silently. "What's going on?" I asked the landlord as I watched the naked woman's wide hips and rounded buttocks move away toward the other end of town. She certainly was a fine looking and well-shaped female who rolled invitingly as she moved. "That's the laird," he said, ushering me back into the dark confines of his ordinary. "He's got three of them up there, three rebel dames, well, women leastways, wives of patriot officers, all three." "And he parades them like that?" I asked handing him my tin for a refill. "Oh yes," the man said with a smile, "and some days he'll let his horse canter or trot. That's something to see, them bitches runnin' t'keep up." "What have they done?" The man shook his head. "They's rebels." "All married?" He nodded. "So they say. You should see the fair-haired one. She's a true beauty; horny too I'd swear with her hard tits bouncing. Her man went off with Montgomery, up to Canada. Dead likely, probably froze his pecker off." "Three of them?" I asked. "T'other's the youngest, barely ripe, but a rebel for all that. Cunny's nearly hairless." "Why does he do it?" I asked. "He's the laird. Does wha' he likes. Spect it gives him pleasure. He's a bit odd if y'knows what I mean." "This town is loyal then?" He nodded. "Them that ain't, we burnt `em out, ran `em off. Cept these three women." I just shook my head and had another beer. That evening I approached the large manor house from the rear. Scouted through the outbuildings and found a young groom willing to sit and converse for a handful of shillings. "The girls," he answered with an evil grin. "Ah yes, ain' they somethin'? What a waste." I waited. "Tell me about them." "He might let me have that young one when he's through with her, that Amy something-or-other. He might. I've ast him." "But isn't she married?" I asked. He snorted. "Don' see no husband. No man'd let his wife be paraded bare naked would he?" "You think he is trying to get their men to reveal themselves?" I asked, stringing him along toward my goal. "Naw," the boy said. "He jus' enjoying hisself. He plays wif one a'them most every night." "Isn't the laird a married man?" He nodded and smiled. "You never seen her, has you. She naught but a crone, old as he is. Sides, I think he likes boys better these days. I had him paw at me onct." "Where does he keep them?" I asked, getting to my goal. The boy looked at me and hesitated. I produced a crown from my purse and showed it to him. "East wing; up on the second floor; locked away and guarded all the time." "Really?" I said handing him the coin. "Yep," he said, "like they was gold or silver." "How many guards?" I asked. "Two, at least two, day and night, armed." "Slaves?" I asked. He shook his head. "Naw. His kind'a militia, only they ain't. Nasty men, big too, both a'them." I thanked him, left and did some thinking. In the morning, after pissing off my rigidity, I visited the other tavern in Wessextown and chatted with the owner and the clients, learning very little more than I knew. They all were king-lovers but none seemed anxious to go off and fight Washington and his fading army. Most thought the laird was mad or at least deranged from time to time, but they all looked forward to his parades. Shortly after the sun reached it zenith, with our beers in our hands, we stood in front of the inn and watched the sour-faced landowner parade a lissome young woman down the dusty lane. She was slim and light-haired and wore a bruise on her cheek. Her eyes were wide and wild, full of fear, and the jeering boys easily tripped her so that she had to scramble up to keep from being dragged along. One of my companions threw his half-mug of beer on her as she passed. I tried to picture her clothed, the reverse of my usual habit when it came to women. Late that night I set a small fire burning in the kitchen ell of the large house and waited, honing my blade on my shoe, until it drew attention. Bells rang and there were several outcries. Then I broke open an outside door and galloped to the stairs leading up in the East wing. "What's goin' on?" asked a big man at the top of the stairs. I hit him low in the belly and tossed him over the banister. He landed with a very satisfying thump and lay still fifteen feet below. I kicked the first door open and found another militia guard with his britches about his ankles who was attempting to sodomize the girl I had seen dragged through the street that day. She was kicking and struggling despite having her face held down on her bed. I killed him with two thrusts, told the girl to get dressed quickly, and ran next door. That locked door gave at my kicks to reveal the dark-haired woman, the lush one I had first seen. "Dress," I yelled at her. "The place is on fire." The third room was empty. I went back where I began, stepped over the bloody body and asked, "Where the third woman?" "He took her to his study, his room," she said. "Poor girl. I'll show you." The three of us hurried down the stairs and past the supine body of the guard. At a high, thick door, the women stopped. "In there," said the dark-haired one, her face very stern. The door was not locked. The man had passed out and lay with his head on a table. Spread across the table, spread-eagled with her arms and legs bound, lay a slight, blonde woman with some sort of wooden phallus protruding from her groin and another in her mouth. "Get her loose and dressed," I said to the woman. I gagged the inert man and put him on my shoulder. "Come," I said, and led the women from the room by way of a tall window. While they fought the fire at the other end of the house, we hurried to the stable and together quickly saddled five horses without interruption. We made our way into Wessextown and to the empty home of the stately, dark-haired woman. She sent the other two off to bed, helped me truss up the laird, and then took me to her bed. "We have not known a true man for many months," she said as she tossed her clothes aside. After we had quickly satisfied our lust, and while we rested, holding each other, she asked, "Now what?" "We'll have a parade, but first we have to get rid of his men," I told her between kisses. "They're cowards, mostly sodomites like he is," she said, "who serve for the pay and perversion." "I can go and get some help, some other men." "You'll do," she said, pushing me to my back and mounting my quivering prod. "By damn," she gasped and then she was off at a canter. Early in the morning, I brought my gift from the gods of desire to her soft body, and she enveloped it. We pleasured each other for an hour or so before the sun rose. "Elvira," said the young blonde when we had our meager breakfast, "were you swiving this poor man this morning?" "A reward for services rendered, Milly," she said. "Jane and I haven't been serviced," she said with a grin. "Or rewarded for that matter." The young woman with light brown hair studied me over her cup. "What now?" she said, echoing her friend. "I was thinking of parading the lord and master down the main street of this foul place and letting the three of you punish him as he went along, beat on him if you wish." "Capital," said Elvira, " a fine idea." "But what of the town folk?" asked Milly, her hand on my thigh. "Won't they be surprised," said Jane, rubbing her young breast against my forearm, her tongue tip in the corner of her soft mouth. "I think I can cow them," I said. "Let's try it then," said Elvira. "At noon." By mid-day I had enjoyed both young Milly, the slight blonde, and rambunctious Jane who was as eager a swiver as I had met in some time. Each of the women went out and cut themselves some switches, long and limber sticks of birch or althea. They dressed carefully, groomed their hair properly and looked like they were ready for church, when I produced the naked laird in his high boots, his wrists bound behind him and a halter about his neck. He was very white and quite wrinkled and his shrunken genitals hung loosely. "We will go out the back way, through the woods and appear at the far end of the street. We will not hurry," I said, bending to kiss each of them in turn. "We will enjoy ourselves." They nodded and smiled while I checked my pistol. By the time we reached our starting place, our rather frail prisoner, who had been begging and whining all the way, was scratched up a bit and looking quite disheveled, hardly himself without his rich clothes and fancy wig. I led his horse, cocked pistol in my hand, and we walked down the middle of the street. Soon the gawkers appeared, some with their implements of devilment. The boys stopped and stared, the women dropped their wands, the men hid their whips behind them and those with nightjars disappeared. Most just goggled in amazement. Down the narrow lane we came: me smiling and nodding right and left, the horse walking with head bobbing, the laird naked and cowering and three lusty women with rods striking him here and there in a steady tattoo and chatting away to each other as they did. Halfway through the village, we stopped. The women wiped their brows and the inn-keeper produced a pitcher of well water and gave them each a good drink. Then we finished our journey with most of the townsfolk watching from behind closed doors. At the end of the street, I untied the halter, tossed the end over a limb and hauled the weeping man upright until his toes barely touched the ground and then tied it off well out of reach. He made very odd noises as the leather dug into his neck. His face began to turn blue and his tongue protruded from his slack mouth. He drooled and his eyes seemed to start from his head as he danced on the end of the rope. I cut his hands free and he clawed at the halter, gasping as he did. "Now sirrah," I said to him after I flicked open one nostril with the point of my big knife. "If I hear that any of these good women suffer any sort of indignities from you or any other filthy Tory, I will return and you will perish in a most long and painful manner which will make today seem like a holiday. And then I will burn down your home and farm. Understand?" He nodded, tears in his eyes. I pinked his sagging scrotum, notching a stone I suspect. He squealed. We left him there, fingers clawed to his noose, up on his toes, and I guess one or more of the townfolks came to his aid when we were out of sight. I served each of the women once more that afternoon and again that evening, awaking in the slim blonde's bed to give her the first efforts of my morning erection and still had enough left for the other two before I went back to report to the old woman who ran my life for a time. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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