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Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 072 parade (MFFF)
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<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>


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