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NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 19 Sep 2011 18:31:40 -0500
From: STS.last@pad9.nasa.gov
Subject: {ASSM} After The Collapse Chapter The Third
Lines: 385
Date: Tue, 20 Sep 2011 16:10:02 -0400
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M/f, slow, ped, rom, cons


Warning! The following story was written for adults on an adult
topic. It contains descriptions of sexual scenes between an under
age female and an adult male. If you are too young to read this
material in your location or if this type material disturbs you,
please read no further and leave now. All others read on and
enjoy this fantasy. Yes I said fantasy. It is not real and never
happened. It is wholly derived from the dark part of my mind
where nothing is real and everything can happen. Do not try this
at home.




                                            After The Collapse

                                            Chapter The Third


It was well after our "session" in the tub that I figured that maybe 
I DID have a use for this sweet little girl-child. It was beginning 
to edge towards fall, so this night turned out to be a little cooler 
than we have previously had. I now understood the term "bed-warmer". 
Little Mo's body temperature made the bed feel all cozy and warm. I 
had been sleeping alone for many, many years. My wife, when I had been
married, that is, had been a cold fish. After our own little ones
had been born, her "pilot light" went out and left me high and
dry, as it were. She had, though, given me two beautiful little
girls.


Both blond and both with brown eyes. The thought of touching them
had never even crossed my mind. Had it, I would have sought help,
immediately. That was something you just DID NOT DO. Daddy's were
always jealous of the boys that their daughters brought around
and none of us liked them either. Boys were a reminder of our own
"hunting days" and with it, a reminder of what we were like. I
remember telling one hapless lad that "Do you see my daughter as
she is now?" "Yeah, so?" I told him that she was to be returned
to me at the appointed time in  EXACTLY the same condition that
she left the house in. This little snot said he'd "See what he
could do." I excused myseld, went into the kitchen and opened a
jar of "cocktail onions", placing them in another jar. I took
these back to him, set the jar in his opened hand and told him
that these were the ballocks of three other lads that had not
returned my daughter to me in her original condition. This little
turdball manage to loosen his bowels all over the floor and RAN
like a scalded dog. My daughter was NOT happy with me. Go figure.

After my then-wife announced to one-and-all that she was "no
longer satisfied and needed her own space" we divorced. I gave
her the house, the car AND the kids. Dummy ME. I understood that
she got a third, that's what the law said. Unfortunately, her
attorney figured HALF was more "appropriate". She really took me
to the cleaners. That's what you get for trying to be the "nice
guy". It was a struggle for a few years, her fighting me anytime
I wanted to see the kids. We were finally assigned a
"Family-Courts" Judge...............A woman. I was FUCKED!!

Actually, it was the best thing that happened to me. This judge,
had ONLY the childrens concerns at heart, nothing else. If my ex
denied me my weekends, my attorney would arrange for a hearing,
the evidence that I had paid the child-support, (through the
courts, good move!!) and the judge asking the ex "Why are the
Minor children NOT seeing their father?" She'd give some
lame-assed excuse and the judge would tell her that "That is an
excuse, not a reason." "Why are the Minor children NOT seeing
their father?" It would go back and forth for about ten minutes
before the judge (God Bless Her!!), would order the ex to repay
me the child-support until the Minor children are seeing their
father. I got the kids. I had a few more run-ins with the ex, but
that dear sweet judge made DAMNED short work of the ex and her
attorney.

My work had taken me out of the state for about a year, though I
would send the child-support like clockwork, every two weeks. I
never missed. When I returned, after that year away, the ex AGAIN
denied me my rights and AGAIN we were before the judge. The ex
got 180 days in County lock-up, I got Temporary Custody.

The kids grew up, moved out and moved on. I rarely saw them
except when they needed something, usually money. They say money
can't buy love, that's true, but it DID keep the kids in touch!!
They both had married, promptly gave me grandkids, which I never
saw and I rarely, if ever heard from them after that. When the
Collapse came, I had contacted them both, saying that I had
enough for all of us. I never heard, nor did I hear of or see
them to this day. I never found out what happened to them. I only
hoped that, whatever occured, they and the kids didn't suffer
needlessly. I still don't know.

I had been sleeping alone for years before then, and had been
sleeping alone ever since. So Little Mo, turning up in my bed was
a bit disconcerting, but welcome nonetheless. She was such a tiny
thing!! I felt really bad about abusing her the way I had. She
could argue until Hell froze over that she had planned it. It
didn't matter, "I" was the adult. It was entirely "my" fault. I
tried to explain this to Little Mo, all of course, to no avail.
"I": was:"her" responsibility and she wasn't about to shirk that
responsibility. Did you ever get the feeling that you'd just been
put in your place by a 10 year-old? I know I did. I figured I'd
let it drop until I talked to Jim Bridger in town.

I woke about 5 the next morning, having slept about 81/2 hours. I
usually got about 6, so this was really refreshing for me! I
started to rise from the bed but remembered to do so carefully as
to not wake Little Mo. The little urchin had already been up and
had my hot coffee waiting for me PLUS a hot breakfast. Eggs over,
just-the-way-I-like-them, ham, biscuits that melted in your mouth
and gravy to go with it that was as good as mine. I just shook my
head, dressed and had my breakfast, all with Little Mo standing
over me making sure I ate it all. I told her I had had to go to
town on business and I asked her if she needed anything. The
little wretch handed me a sheaf of papers with a list of things
she felt "I" needed. I knew that it was a losing battle to argue
with her, I just agreed and went out to harness one of my
Percherons, "Big Jake". Sonovabitch!!! There was Joseph holding
the reins to Big Jake, already harnessed to the buckboard, ready
to go. "Someone" had planned this and when I got back from town,
that "someone" was going over my knee!!!

I'd been had, but GOOD!!. Ah, well. What're you gonna do? I just
climbed up on the buckboard, glared into Joseph's beaming face
and scowled a "Giddyap!" to Big Jake. I was off. On the way to
town I had a real good chuckle. As usual, I found the lighter
side of the situation and put it in it's proper perspective. I
had some good folks about me that really cared. I had a little
girl-child, No, WOMAN-child that seemed bent on caring for me
whether I liked it or not. She seemed so eager to please. If  I
had been in her situation, I might've done the same. I couldn't
fault her. But I could thank whatever fates that were that had
dropped her into my lap.

The drive into town was, gratefully, uneventful. There had been a
time, not too long ago, that you made sure you had your firearms,
loaded and locked, because as sure as God made little green
apples, there'd be need of them. I still traveled with my Henry
and a .45 auto strapped to my hip. You could never be too sure,
never be too safe. The town was safe, nowadays, but there was
still the odd traveler or cutpurse that still roamed these
biways. I rolled into town a little after 9, it was about a 3
hour trip, one way. I headed over to the Courthouse building and
secured my buckboard. The old Courthouse had been rebuilt and put
back into use. The old Oak in the Square had long been without a
dangleing criminal but that was a good thing. I suppose. Things
were settling down, it appeared. Folks were getting back to being
"civilized" again, whatever that was. I sought out Jim's office
and found the poor bastard neck-deep in County politics. He
always hated that, but his job required him to be part-diplomat,
part-politician. He was having to listen to some joker from a
southern county go on and on about how a Deputy had taken his
"proppity" from him, namely, slaves. He was also angered about
the "no lash or whip law". "How was a proppity oanuh able to
sufficiently chastise his Nigguhs if'n he couldn't whup'm a time
'r two?" This joker turned out to be some county official from,
as I said, a southern county, This other county had a lot of
dealings with ours and there was a good deal of trade between
them. Hell, they'd bought several dozen barrels of my brew every
month. I sure didn't feel like whipping the man, but the Law was
the Law, as we say here. I "sauntered in and Jim, seeing me,
fairly jumped and exclaimed rather loudly, "Ah Marshall, it's
good to see you out and about here in our little county!! I was
wondering if you could give me a hand with
Mr.whatever-his-name-was?" I saw Jim's ruse immediately and "rose
to the occasion".

I asked this official the nature of the complaint, stopping him
at several points to have him repeat and "clarify" his position,
making sure his "story" stayed pretty much the same. It didn't. I
asked to see the "proppity" in question amd when shown the
"Indentured Servants", found that some had been horribly and
cruelly whipped. One such unfortunate, a white man, had been
whipped until his shoulder blades shown. Not the skin, mind you,
the fucking BONE. I fought the sudden and overwhelming urge to
vomit up whatever I had in my stomach and then some. Ruse or no,
this fucker had broken not just County Law, but State Law as
well. I had him arrested on the spot, and not PUT in a cell, I
had the fucker HURLED bodily into the cell.

After making out an affidavit and arrest report, (I was, after
all, still a "sworn deputy") I retired to Jim's office to talk. I
asked him why he hdan't just had the little fucker arrested, he
could have done so on his own accord and there'd be none to
gainsay him, either.He didn't need me to play-act the role of a
State Marshal. He chuckled to himself as if it was a private
jolke. I then knew that "something was up" and Jim, in his own
time, would let me know. He asked after Joseph and Wilma ,  then
how Gustav was getting on. He remarked that he'd tried the batch
of new brew that I was trolling out. Said it was good beer, nice
and dark. Gustav and I had brought out a good, dark beer after
the old Imprted German brands. It was good stuff, too. It had a
head that'd stand up to a good 10 knot breeze and FOAMY!!!. We
had experimented and had, along with my "Original" recipe, three
more, including the dark German. Gustav was making the brewery
work and was it ever paying! We made some more small talk and
then i got down to "the question". I told Jim what I'd heard and
seen but, I dared not say one word about last night until I knew
which way the wind blew. I'm a law-believing and law-abiding man,
but there's no sense in saying anything that might incriminate
yourself. I like my yard and ballocks where they were, thank you
very much. Jim was quiet for a bit before asking me what I
thought about it. I just wasn't sure, I told him. I didn't like
the potential for abuse or the "stigma" of being a child
molester, if caught. Jim just kind of smiled and asked if I was
worried about "being caught?" I looked at my old firend and asked
him, fairly bluntly, "Just what the hell do you mean by
THAT?!!!?" Jim, seeing he'd gone just a little TOO far got up and
walked towards me, saying in that smooth, soothing voice of his,
"Now, don't worry, I didn't mean nuthun, by it", Damned but he
could be obtuse!! Jim chuckled to himself and then said that,
yes, there was sort of a "custom" that had developed. And, yes he
had himself three of the little darlin's. I just stood
stock-still. I asked my friend what had happened between he and
Margie? He laughed, a good hearty laugh, loud and long. Jim said
that it'd actually been Margie's idea.

I had to sit down, this was all just a bit too much for these old
bones. Jim asked how the young-un was progressing.  I just looked
at him and didn't say a word. Jim guessed the right of it and 
clapped a hand on my shoulder and asked when the young-un had
"gotten to me".  I smiled sheepishly and said "last night". He
burst out into laghter and asked me how I was able to stand, let
alone walk about? I told him I damned near couldn't. He continued
laughing for some time until he saw that it really DID affect me.
He told me"John, old son, we live in a vastly different world
than the one you and I got brung up in. Folks usedta frown and
get all bothered about a lil' girl lovin' an ol' fart, 'r two."
"These 'shere kids don' got a home, prolly no fambly, no ones
they kin calls they own". "They don' knows the love of a Daddy,
may niver get ta, neither," "Hell, at fust, I'da agreed withya."
"Shitfire, son, why, just seeing the ways some ol'buggers treats
them kids, hell I'd be a-lookin to kill me some o' them bastids".
"Yeah, the potential fuh abuse is allus there, but folks like you
an' me, we'se here tuh perteckt 'em."  I asked my friend about
the State, what was the prevalent State Law regarding these kids?
Ol' Jim told me that the State had a hard enough time trying to
keep the peace and everybody else happy, they'd left it to
"County Option"., Passing the buck, as usual, I thought. Jim and
I talked a bit more on the subject, we'd come up with a few more
ideas on how to protect the kids, even suggesting that a "tax" be
placed on them and an extra payment made to their accounts to
compensate them for "nightly duties". Jim got a real belt out of
that last one. He'd said that he knew a couple of the "horny ol'
fuckers  that're gonna hate yer guts fer that one, "nightly
duties tax"", and erupted into more laughter.

After a bit, Jim calmed down getting his guffaws down to giggles
and then down to the occasional chuckle. I remarked to Jim that
that was all we really needed. He cocked his head at me and said,
whatsat? I said "a pussy tax". That sent him back over the edge,
again.I asked him if we needed to install a meter so we could
charge by the stroke or even charge by the inch. Jim had tears
rolling down his cheeks. He sat at his big desk, hunched over it,
his face covered with tears of laughter, banging on top of the
desk and howling like a banshee!! I figured enough was enough for
now, I could always make the side remark and get him giggling
like a loon, anytime. He finally caught his breath, looked at me
and said "Dammit, boy!! You sure come up with the best 'uns!!" He
then straightened up, fixed his collar and used his "Official"
voice. "For your esteemed service to your County, I declare that
one and all shall know of your selfless deeds to increase the tax
base of your beloved home." I looked at him and said "Don't you
dare you sonuvabitch." The smiling face and trembling chin told
me...........wait for it. Boom!! Jim had cracked another joke and
sent us BOTH back over the edge.

After we had finally gotten it out of our systems, for now
anyways,  Jim said there was one peice of business that he needed
my help with. As always, I stood ready to serve my county in
whatever capacity I could. He said almost sheepishly that he'd
have to have my star. I was dumbstruck. Was all this just a ruse
to root out my crime? I couldn't believe it!! Jim, seeing my
quandary held up his hand and told me to "Hol' on jes a minnit,
there. ol buddy, it ain't what yer a-thinkin'"."Ye cain't wear
that ol' star nomore. Ya got anuthu one I've been directed to
give ya's". A different star? What was it"? The Sheriff was
always elected. The Constable was a City job and I'd always
worked for and with the County. Hell, I didn't even LIVE in the
City!! "Hell, ol' buddy, you already done served, you jes done
know it!!" And started to chuckle to himself. Alright, dammit,
out with it!! The fuckin suspense was KILLING me. Jim held out a
star, alright. It said "State Marshal" on it.

I looked at Jim and then  asked if he'd lost ALL his marbles. Jim
said that he'd been up to the Governor's home in Charlotte and
he'd beed asked to put forth a list of names for the top Lawman's
job in the State. He told me that he'd told the Governor all
about me, Mhow I'd been ready to help, always been there for the
County and was a staunch and sturdy "bulwark of Justice". I
looked at Jim and asked him if the Governor really "bought" his
line of horseshit. Jim's face fell. I realized that I'd hurt my
friend and immediately apologized. He shook his head, no \that
both he and the Governot had come up with my name right out of
the gate. I couldn't understand what they saw in me that they
would actually consider me for such a job. Jim went on to say
that I had held to the law and believed in it. Most folks just
hear what they want and go about  their lives. Jim said he told
the Governor that I not only held to the law,  but put it in
practice each and every day. That I had been a Deputy Sheriff was
no lie. I upheld and served the law as best I could. Jim said
that that was what the Governor had been looking for. Too many
"political appointees" were just looking for an easy job to
further line their own pockets. He needed an honest man, one that
already had his own lands and fortune, so as not to be tempted by
those that would bribe their way out of trouble. No, this was no
honorary position. The State, Jim said, had a greater need than
the County did.

Aw, Hell!! What could I say? I DAMNED sure couldn't say "No". So
I said "Yes". Jim asked me to raise my right hand, place my left
one on the Bible and repeat after him. I intoned the solemn words
and swore an oath to uphold the Laws of the Great State of North
Carolina and to protect and serve the public to the best of my
abilities and to the last drop of blood............. or something
like that. I was now, officially, the State Marshal. It came with
a hefty paycheck, too. But that was not what concerned me. Jim
took out of his coat pocket a sheaf of papers wrapped in oilskin
and the inner wrappings sealed with wax. The wax bore the imprint
of the Great Seal of our fair State. My orders. Only to be given
to me after I had been sworn in. These folks left damned few
things to chance, I broke open the seals and after a letter of
congratulations, by name, the Governor came to the point.

It seemed that in our neck of the woods, things were relatively
quiet and well-ordered. That wasn't the case further north
between us and Charlotte. There had been a growing criminal
element in the Central Regions and it was beginning to effect not
only communications, but with trade as well. The State Mails had
been robbed. Several farms and ranches had been taken over by
thieves and thugs after presenting official-looking documents
attesting to ownership. Some of these documents even had "real"
looking seals and watermarks on them. Folks were being rousted
out at early hours, at gunpoint. Thrown out of the homes and
farms that they had built and nurtured. Some, refusing to leave
and saying that the State Marshall to be sent for, were burned
alive in thei homes. There was still much to be done. Jim and I
had sat together, trying to figure out how to marshall the
equipment, men , horse, provender and all the other minutiae an
operation like this was going to entail. I suddenly remembered
the list that dear, sweet Little Mo had given me. I just shook my
head, knowing I was going to be "in for it" when I got back,
State Marshal or no.

Jim asked me what was wrong. I told him that it was nothing,
really. I said that I had promised to pick up a few items for
Little Mo when I came back and it looked like I wasn't going to
be able to keep my promise. Jim just chuckled and said that
"Well, we can't have our State Marshal start his career by lying
to the "little missus" now, can we?" Jim asked the secretary to
send a Deputy around to his home and"Would you have them fetch my
Margie, for me, please?" In about a half an hour, Margie walked
in. When she saw me she glanced at Jim and seeing his smile I
knew she'd been in on it, too. Margie asked after Little Mo. I
just grinned. She laughed and said "Good for her!!" Jim was all
set to tell Margie about my "suggestions" for increasing County
Revenue, but I had to wave him down. We had SERIOUS business to
take care of. Jim, of course, understood. Probably better than I
did.

Jim explained to his wife the reason he had sent for her. Margie
looked at the list and was ready to turn out the door and get
started. I stopped her, reaching into my purse for silver, when
Jim stopped me. He said that the State had a drawing account
already set up and that I had an "expense account" for just such
things. I told Jim that while I appreciated the offer, these
expenses were personal and I could not in good consience spend
the State's hard-earned cash on "personal items". Jim smiled,
understanding once agian. Margie left, promising to be back in
about an hour. I thanked Jim for all his fine help, but what I
needed most were men, Not just any men, either, I needed tough
men. Men that could handle thier own and then some. The reports
that the Governor had sent with my orders went on to say that the
criminals were well-armed, some with military -style stuff, Heavy
weapons. And there were not just a few of them, either. This was
described in one report as a "horde". That meant a shitload. I
could have, on my own responsibility, taken the entire staff of
several Counties worth of Sworn Deputies and it still might not
be enough. Dammit, what I needed were Special Forces, but they
didn't exist anymore........................or did they?

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Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

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