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From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 29
Lines: 318
Date: Tue,  4 May 2004 20:10:06 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 029.txt" begin>

Rebel 029 (Old Bill) (MF hist)

Just Joy

	"It's a trap," she gasped out at me as soon as I removed her 
gag.  "I'm the bait."

	And a fine piece of bait she was, young and luscious, 
overflowing her almost unlaced bodice and loosened stays, standing 
barefoot in her torn shift, a temptation to any man or boy.  I quickly 
cut her loose from the tree to which she had been bound and 
pushed her behind it, shrugging my musket from my back and 
admiring her white body.

	"Whose trap?" I whispered to her, my hand clamped to her 
buttock as I checked my priming.

	"Here they come," she said, pointing.  "The foul beasts.  They 
were looking for a big man like you, told me so when they tied me 
there and raped me." She sniiffed, and I put a cartridge behind my 
ear and tried to spit, feeling my gut tighten.

	Five Redcoats came stalking from the nearby tavern led by a 
subaltern with a straight sword who called out, "Surrender, you 
damned rebel."

	I handed the girl my pistol, and she put it on full cock without 
my say-so.  We smiled at each other.  "We'll not take prisoners," I 
said, twisting my big bayonet onto my musket after stuffing a 
handful of buckshot down its barrel.  "Wait until they are much 
closer.  Did that officer poke you?"

	She nodded and gulped.

	"Then he's yours," I said, "aim low so he doesn't hurt any 
other women."  She showed me her teeth and gripped my big pistol 
with both small hands, displaying startlingly erect nipples in the 
process.  I bent, brushed a lock of her hair aside and quickly kissed 
her cracked lips.  The squad was perhaps ten paces off.  "Ready?" I 
asked and she nodded.  "I'll fire first and charge; you get that 
ensign.  Please don't miss."  They were five long steps from us as I 
stepped from behind the tree and let fly, aiming waist high.

	Then I screamed and ran at the powder smoke, hearing my 
pistol fire behind me and then seeing the young officer fall back, 
arms spread wide and a look of astonishment on his face, mouth 
agape.

	Only one Redcoat was standing, and I quickly speared him and 
then jerked my dripping blade loose and went for a man rolling near 
my feet.  I did him through the back, stepped over his body and 
bayoneted a man who had made it up to his knees despite the 
shredded look of his torn jacket and bloody arm.  Behind me, 
someone was crying, "No, no, no."

	I glanced at the four sprawled soldiers and took a step back to 
find the disheveled girl astride the downed officer, bending over 
and beating at his face with the butt of my pistol in a series of wet 
thuds.  There was not much left of it when I pulled her away from 
the dying man she had gut shot.

	She was snorting and pawing at the ground, struggling in my 
grasp, and then suddenly she fell against me, wailing and clawing.  I 
held her and patted her back, well aware of my own arousal 
although she might not have been.  Then I searched the bodies, 
ignoring the fact that the young ensign still lived, and gathered up 
their weapons.  I led the girl to the tavern, kicked open the door 
and dropped the four muskets to the floor.

	"You a fucking Tory?" I asked the startled inn-keeper, my 
own gun still on my back, its broad bayonet dripping gore.

	"No, no," he cried, "no, never.  They jus' busted in here, that 
bunch.  That there's my daughter."

	"Brave girl," I said, pushing her toward him.

	"No, he's," she began to say when he grabbed her, spun her 
about and put a small knife to her neck and a crooked smile on his 
face.

	"You want this piece of gutter trash to stay alive, put down 
that pistol and then raise your hands."  The grizzled inn-keeper 
grinned at me, his big hand holding the girl at her waist.  I pulled my 
empty pistol from my belt and put it before him on the bar very 
carefully.  Then I quickly lifted my musket from my back and as I 
swung it around, I cocked and fired in one motion, hoping the 
instant between the pan flash and the muzzle flare was not long 
enough for him to knife the girl whose eyes widened as I fired.

	The ball hit him just above his right eye and broke two bottles 
on the shelf behind him.  The knife dropped to the floor and the girl 
stood there gawking at me and my smoking weapon.  By habit, I 
began to reload.

	"Damn me," she gasped out.  "Thought I was dead.  I looked 
right into the barrel of that thing." She ran her hands through her 
unruly hair and then looked down at the messy body near her feet, 
showing me her fine chest in the process, nipples jutting up, hard as 
green cherries.

	"Anybody here?" I yelled as I reloaded my musket, ramming 
hard.

	"In the kitchen," came a female response, and I headed that 
way with the girl at my heels.

	"That your man out there?" I asked the haggard woman 
standing by the fireplace, a big spoon in her hand.

	She shook her head.  "I jus' work fer `im."

	"No more," I said.  "He's dead."

	"What happened out front?" she asked, turning to stir her 
stew.  It smelled pretty good.

	"More dead men, Redcoats," I said.

	"Good riddance," she replied without looking at me.

	"Can you spoon us out a couple of bowls of that?" I asked.

	She nodded and I left the girl to fetch our food.  I dragged the 
dead inn-keeper out the front door and into the thicket across the 
road, past the place where the four soldiers lay and their young 
officer still weakly kicked and moaned, one knee raised.

	I returned to stand over the poor young man with the ruined 
face and the lead ball in his guts.  "You think rape is good sport?" I 
said to him, watching dark blood pump out between his fingers.

	He groaned and stared up at me with his remaining eye.  

	I ripped open his codpiece and cut off his member.  He 
managed to scream, and I left him there with his cock in his hand.

	The girl, the cook and I enjoyed the old woman's stew and 
crusty bread along with a few tins of frothy beer.  "You're a good 
cook," I told her.

	She nodded and chewed.

	"Whose place is this?" I asked.  "He have any kin?"

	She shook her head.

	"Think you could run it?" I asked her.  "You got a man that 
can help?"

	"Maybe," she said, looking at me curiously.

	I got up and rummaged around behind the abandoned bar 
and after some serious rooting found a deed to the tavern in a 
ledger book; inn, stable and four acres, more or less as it was 
described.  With a flourish, I signed the dead man's name to the 
paper making it out to the name the woman gave me and then 
signed, in a slightly different hand, the names of two witnesses and 
dated the paper a week earlier, blew on it, rubbed it on the tabletop, 
folded it and gave it to her.  "You now own this miserable place," I 
said.  "Want to hire the girl here?"

	The old woman looked at her, scrunched up her mouth, 
sniffed, and said, "Looks right scrawny."

	"She's a brave one," I said.  "Shot a man down out there, 
saved my bacon."

	The cook raised an eyebrow.

	"What kin y'do?" she asked the girl

	"I'm a whore," the girl said proudly with a toss of her head.  
"A frisker an' a good `un; I can wait all the tables in this place, keep 
tab of who owes what, and swive ten men a day without batting an 
eye and drink most a'them under the table while I'm at it."

	"Ho," the old woman laughed, "can you now?"

	"Been doing it since I came to this godforsaken land," the 
young woman said, sitting up very straight, sticking her thumbs in 
the top of her ruined dress and pulling her torn bodice higher.

	"Well," the crone said, "suppose you take this big-footed plow 
horse up them stairs and show him what you kin do.  I'll take his 
word for it."

	"Shit," the girl said, looking at me with a smile, "anything his 
size, I'd make `em pay double.  Come on, mister, we deserve some 
relaxation."  She stood and grabbed my arm.  "I ain't never rogered 
anything big as you, but I'm willing to give it a try."

	"Whoa," I said, "wait till I finish my stew."  I stuffed the last 
crust of bread in my mouth and followed her up to the first room 
we found, watching her charms bobble along.

	I sat on the bed and laughed while the girl stood before me, 
barely five feet tall and surely not a hundred pounds, hands on hips.

	"What's so damnable funny?" she demanded, tapping her bare 
foot.

	"You are," I said.  "What's your name."  I pulled her up 
between my knees and grabbed her hard buttocks in my big hands.

	"Joy," she told me.  "Just Joy." She wiggled nicely and gave 
me a friendly peck of a kiss.

	"Well, Joy," I said, "there no need for you to fall on your back 
for me."

	"I want to," she said.  "I didn' save you out there, you saved 
me."  She hooked her arms about my neck.

	"Let's say we were a good team," I said, unlacing and 
removing her bodice and then giving her a kiss somewhat more than 
brotherly after I nuzzled her chest and tongued her small breasts.  
She unbuckled my heavy belt and laid it and my big knife aside.

	After that things got a bit more hurried, but I did manage to 
get my boots off before she peeled out of her shift and pushed me 
to my back and mounted my rigid pike, her knees just under my ribs 
and her body arched back, hands behind her on my knees as she 
forced herself down on the long, hot thing.

	"Damn, damn," she gasped out.  "You sure are the biggest 
man I've ever had in me."

	I was as gentle and as patient as I could be under the 
circumstances, but she was tight and eager to please, and we 
managed to have a fine old time, rolling around on the bed and 
humping at each other, a scramble of arms and legs, of lips and 
tongues, that left us both laughing and breathing hard when we 
managed to disengage from each other.

	"Now, tell me," I said, holding her close and enjoying the feel 
of her fine, firm body, "was there any truth in that story you gave 
the old lady."

	"Some," she said.  "I came indentured to Virginia three years 
ago.  I was fourteen."  She wriggled to get more comfortable, my 
spent member in her hand.

	"Man took me as an apprentice, raped me, buggered me, 
sicced his helpers on me and put me to work in his ale house, 
scrubbing floors and swiving sailors.  So I ran off."

	I kissed her forehead and waited.  It was quiet for a while as 
she concentrated on massaging my wan tool back to life.

	"I worked my way north, mostly on my back," she said.  "Not 
always, but mostly, spent a year or so in Philadelphia, Madam Sally's.  
You heard a'her?"

	She hummed softly, bending to lick my fat pestle's warm head.  
"Fell in love, I did. Man tricked me, brung me up here and then he 
sold me."  She took a deep breath, looking right at me, very serious.  
"Sold me, the bloody bastard.  Took all my money and jus' sold me."

	As we lay facing each other, she got the knob of my hardening 
yard into her and put her hands up on my chest, raking the hair she 
found there.  I thrust my hips forward and slid back into her, just a 
few inches.  She smiled at me.  "I worked on the docks, for the 
British tars mostly, and then some Germans got me somehow, and I 
ran off again.  They was jus' awful, a foul and smelly bunch."

	Her hips came forward, her insides sucked me deeper, and she 
hooked her top leg behind my knee.  I rolled to my back, and she 
lay atop me, gasping and heaving, as my eager ram strove to get 
deeper and deeper.  She bounced happily from the waist down.

	"Then, well, I made another mistake.  That man I shot, he 
sweet-talked me into coming out here, gave me a crown to do it."  
She shuddered as I flexed deep inside her.  She put her hands on my 
ribs, got herself upright and gave me a good, healthy rogering that 
brought us both to heaving orgasms and mutual exhaustion with the 
girl clamping her lower lip tightly and closing her eyes as I rammed 
up into her to my spurting satisfaction.

	When we finally made our way down the stairs and into the 
dark and deserted tavern, the old cook was waiting for us.  "I sent 
for my man," she said.  "He's taking care of the trash you left out 
there.  Five pairs of boots is all we'll get out of that."

	I dug in my purse and gave her a small stack of shillings, about 
half of what I had taken from the young officer.  She gave me a 
nearly toothless smile.  "Thank'e," she said.  "Kin this little girl do 
it?"

	"Yes'm," I said, "I reckon she can do anything she sets her 
mind to."

	Since it was late, the woman got together some sort of meal for 
the two of us and for herself and her man, who turned out to be 
about twenty years her junior.  He looked at Joy with some 
undisguised hunger.  We ate and shared a few words, and then I 
took Joy back to our tumbled bed, and enjoyed her for a while 
before we slept.  I was interested to find out whether or not my 
extra-heavy morning erection was more than she could tolerate.

	It was not.
	
	
<1st attachment end>


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