index


Message-ID: <47429asstr$1081815004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 013 At the Ferry
Lines: 471
Date: Mon, 12 Apr 2004 20:10:04 -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




<1st attachment, "Rebel 013.txt" begin>

Rebel 013 (Old Bill)  (MF hist)  

At the Ferry

	I don't even recall the name of the stream, but it was wide and 
in some places pretty shallow with a rocky bottom.  When we got 
there, however, the water was high and an old ferry was plying the 
flood on a heavy rope line.  Our job was to hold the ford, now a 
ferry, until our wing of the army, what was left of it, had scampered 
past.  Then we could cross and join them, so we were told.  As our 
forlorn troops ambled by in ones and twos, in knots and platoons, 
the wounded moaning in farm wagons or helping each other along, 
we held our own against the leading elements of the British forces 
hounding us onwards and took no casualties since the dragoons 
were not very anxious to mix it up.

	Finally, after nearly a week, we were told to move to the far 
bank, destroy the ferry and then hold for two more days.  The river 
was still pretty high, armpit deep I would say.  Once we were across 
and in good defensive positions, Lt. Foster sent me back to chop the 
ferry loose after making sure it could not be used.  The old barge 
was big enough to carry a stage and its team, but I had a sharp 
hatchet and was ready to do my assigned task.

	I had not bargained on the ferryman, especially since it turned 
out that she was a ferrywoman, and a fine and healthy one too.  I 
was surprised I had not noticed she when we crossed, but we were 
right busy at the time and eager to get the river between us and the 
Redcoats. She stood, feet wide apart, her loose-fitting duck trousers 
tucked into her high boots, her breeches hard against her legs in a 
stiff breeze, her hair tied back like mine was and a man's shirt 
flapping from her strong-looking arms and stretching across her 
jutting bosom when I told her what I intended to do.

	"And you'll die right here doin' it, you will," she said, her 
knuckles whitening on the long, thick pole she used to propel her 
craft in the river's current.  "I'll crack yer head wide open, I will, if 
you try to chop a hole in this barge."

	"Now, miss," I said, holding my hatchet down by my leg and 
admiring her flashing eyes and firm jaw as well as a fine pair of 
prominent jugs and the well-rounded rump on her.  "It's the war.  
We have to stop the enemy you know."

	"Not wi' my father's ferryboat, y'don't," she said, putting her 
free fist on her wide hip and showing me her teeth.  I would guess 
she might have gone five-foot-seven or eight in her thick-soled boots 
and probably weighed in around twelve stone, an impressive young 
woman with black hair and a trace of a brogue on her tongue.  
When her shirt flapped open, her chest seemed to swell, making my 
hands itch and ballocks pound.

	"Could we float it somewhere downstream and hide it?" I 
asked, putting my hatchet in my belt, more than a bit ashamed but 
enjoying the sight of the lass before me, angry as she was. Her 
thighs looked as thick as mine and the muscles in her forearms 
bulged, as did her fine bosom.  She was breathing hard, really angry 
and perhaps a bit frightened.

	"Y'kin go to hell, is what you can do," she said, poking her 
long pole in my direction.

	I stuck out my hand in friendship, but she brushed it away.  
"Let's go see your father," I suggested.

	"Can't," she announced.  "they took him prisoner, locked him 
away."

	"Who did?"

	"Dunno, some Redcoats las' week," she said, her tone easing a 
bit, but her chest still rising and falling rapidly and disturbingly.

	"All right," I said, stepping carefully aboard her barge, "let's 
us go back to your house and talk a bit.  Maybe I can do you some 
good."

	She narrowed her eyes but cast off, polled twice and let the 
big craft drift to the other shore, rocking a good bit since it was 
empty.  She made it secure with two heavy ropes and led me up the 
bank after tossing the big pole into the hulking craft's bottom.  I 
enjoyed watching her move in front of me as we climbed the slippery 
bank and felt myself hardening.  Her hips were wider than mine and 
they moved like well-oiled machinery.

	"Mary Margaret Mulligan," she said as she poured some 
whisky in a pewter can for me.  She hefted the jug to her forearm 
and drank deeply then set the big stoneware container down and 
smiled, fisting in the cork.  I told her my name, said I was happy to 
know her, and offered her what little food I had in my knapsack.  
She had some fresh bread.  We ate without any talk, my mind 
playing with the idea of bedding the girl and forgetting her 
ferryboat as well as Lt. Foster and the whole damn war. She was a 
temptation to desert and spend one's life in fornication.

	 The clatter of hooves ended our meal as well as my 
daydream, and a big grenadier sergeant trailed by a young ensign 
came through the front door without even a knock.  "Where the 
hell's the bleedin' ferryman?" the ranker demanded, his face nearly 
as red as his jacket while the adolescent officer in his silly hat stood 
gaping at the woman.

	"Sick," the young woman quickly said as I turned my back to 
the intruders enjoying the freckled view her unbuttoned shirt 
provided.  She raked back her hair and glared at me after feeling my 
eyes on her swelling breasts.

	"I've, we've got a scoutin' party to get across the bloody 
river," the sergeant said, getting louder, "so get somebody on the 
rotten ferry.  Be quick about it, woman." He popped his quirt 
against his boot.

	She started to stand, but I put my hand atop hers, smiled into 
her eyes and said calmly, "I'll do it, Miss Mulligan."  She nodded and 
sat back down, tucking her tongue into her cheek and pulling her 
shirt together, seeming to relax a bit.

	The slim officer grinned at me, the supercilious shit, and said, 
"I'll stay here while you check this out, eh, first sergeant?" His voice 
cracked.

	"Go on," the girl said to my back.

	I shambled out, bent over as if with a deformity and found 
two other riders waiting to cross the stream that was still tumbling 
along, full of debris.  They skidded their four animals down the 
muddy banks, tethered them to the wooden cleats, and I loosed the 
ungainly boat and pushed it out in the current after the thick-necked 
sergeant told me not to wait for his officer.

	"He'll be busy, `is lordship will, but won' take long," he 
laughed, scratching at his stones.  "`e never does."

  	Once we were moving reasonably well, I pulled the seven-foot 
pole up and smashed the nearest soldier into the water with an easy 
swing that probably cracked his skull from the sound of it.  Then I 
poked another into the river with the muddy end, but the sergeant 
ducked, sprawling on the wet decking as the horses pranced with 
excitement.  I stepped on his hand to hold him in place, kicked him in 
the ear, rolled him over and took his purse.  He looked up at me, 
bug-eyed as my big blade pricked his chest.

	"Can you swim, sergeant?" I asked quietly, my knee on his 
belly.

	He shook his head, clawing at me, and saying, "Don't, don't."

	I drove the big knife through the middle of his chest and into 
the boards beneath him, pulled it free with a spurt of gore and 
rolled his body overboard.  I washed and wiped the bloody blade, 
got the raft headed back where we had started, made sure it was 
firmly tied, took the horses to the half-roofed shed and hurried back 
to the cabin.

	"What did you do?" the young woman asked as I bolted the 
door.  Her shirt had been torn open and the ensign, his throat 
gaping wide, sprawled in a corner with blood dripping to the floor 
beneath him.  He looked surprised as well as dead, his unseeing eyes 
wide open.

	"They decided to swim," I said, tossing her the heavy purse, 
"but they paid first.  What happened to him?"

	She weighed the bag by hefting it and smiled at me.  "Made a 
small mistake."  She pulled her shirt together and then looked about 
for her lost button.

	"Now where's your father?" I asked after I dragged the slight 
body to the stream and returned to the cabin with the young 
officer's fancy purse, engraved pistol and gold ring.

	"Tomorrow," she said, shedding her leather jerkin and 
meeting me in the middle of the room, letting her shirt fall all the way 
open.  "I've been without a man for some time, and you're damn 
near my size."  She nearly growled when I grabbed her, a hand on 
each haunch, pulling her heaving belly to mine.

	"Poor little thing," I said, dragging her unbuttoned shirt out of 
her breeches and yanking it over her head while she loosed my thick 
belt and licked at my chest, biting me in several places.

	Her breasts were the size of a 8-pounder's iron balls with dark 
nipples as big as my thumb joint, and they rode high on her ribs, 
looking up at me.  She growled again as she came into my arms and 
met my lips with her own, wide parted and hungry, her hairy 
mound grinding into me, hips already moving anxiously as I skinned 
down her britches over her firm cheeks. Our tongues met while I 
kneaded her butt.

	"By damn," she said when she pulled her mouth away, "By 
damn."  We did not say much after that but quickly disrobed each 
other and tumbled into her disordered bed, leaving a jumble of 
boots and britches behind us and actually panting to be at it. My 
searching fingers told me she was ready, and I plunged into her, 
nearly halfway in at the first shove although she was pretty tight 
and not fully lubricated.  She grunted and lifted her pelvis up to 
meet my deepening thrusts, showing me her gritted teeth, her eyes 
closed.  When I was sure I was fully in, I held her impaled, stretched 
to the very limit, and she opened her eyes, looked up at me and 
whispered hoarsely, "What are you waiting for?"  Her big body 
shivered, poised on the end of my long, hard spear, on the spit and 
ready to be basted, my cock's thick base grinding at her slit and 
moving up and down, our hair tangling.  I smiled down at her and 
flexed my rigid weapon.  She snorted and slapped my butt. "Get on 
with it, y'heathen," she groaned.

	We began very slowly, but her impatience soon overcome my 
urge to prolong the pleasure.  She screamed like a banshee when she 
came, nearly scaring me out of my wits, beating on my chest and 
kicking me in the rump, and she soon managed another rollicking 
spasm, rearing under me with her eyes squeezed closed and mouth 
clamped shut, before I was spent after jolting us both and called for 
a bit of rest, withdrawing with some difficulty.  We were, as she had 
guessed, a good match for each other.

	"That was grand," she pronounced, rolling out of bed and 
crossing the room to find a pipe, stuff it full of rough-cut leaf and set 
it smoking.  "It's been a while," she said as she walked to her 
cluttered table and took a drink from her big jug, tossing the cork in 
the corner.  I watched her hams flex in smooth motion and her 
globular breasts sway and jiggle gently with her steps.  Her stomach 
was well-muscled, her belly a soft half-globe, and her black muff 
looked like a small critter nestled between her heavy thighs. Mucus 
trickled down one leg.  She rolled in beside me, took a deep pull on 
the stem and then handed me the pipe and took another drink from 
the stoneware jug before sharing that with me.

	I put my arm about her wide shoulders and cupped her off 
breast while she drew the covers up over our tired bodies. It was 
strong tobacco but smooth corn whisky.

	"You are the hairiest man I ever saw," she said, snuggling her 
face on my chest and combing my body hair with her fingers as our 
legs interlocked.  Her knee moved up to prod my privates, checking 
for revived life I suppose.

	"And you are by far the strongest woman I've met today," I 
said, patting her broad bottom.  "You are some hard driving 
swiver."

	"Anything that's worth doin'," she said with a laugh as she 
began working on my flabby member and shriveled stones.  I put 
the pipe aside and set the jug on the floor to tend to more pleasant 
matters, kneading her hard butt while sucking an upright dug.  She 
pulled my head away from her chest and kissed me hard, gnawing 
my mouth.

	"Where is your father, Mary Margaret?" I asked quietly, her 
hard nipple poking between my splayed fingers while my left hand 
groped in her hairy mound and a crooked finger slipped between 
her splayed lips and into her slippery cunny.  My thumb found her 
hard little prick and teased it some while she continued to insistently 
stroke my growing wand.

"Not far, I think," she said, wiggling still closer, "they've got a 
bunch working at buildin' a fort, cutting trees and such."  Her hands 
were large and callused, but she got both of them going down my 
shaft, one right after the other, bringing it quickly to over-heated 
attention.  Then she straddled me, high on her knees, grinned 
happily, tossed back a hank of dark hair, poked my prod's swollen 
head into her soggy quim and took several inches in with her nether 
lips and vaginal muscles, gritting her teeth as she did, her big breasts 
hanging in my face.  It was like being sucked into a vortex and 
massaged by a master.  My root trembled and swelled as it climbed 
into her silky warmth, jumping and quivering, and then she lowered 
herself all the way down on my spike, got her knees up by my ribs 
and rogered me hard and long while I tried to match her 
impassioned striving until my belly ached, my thighs cramped and 
my back pained.  I thought she would rip my member from my body 
as she arched up on me, gasping with pleasure each time she sank on 
it.  She hissed and groaned with effort, the cords in her neck 
swollen hard, while I held tight to her hard buttocks and gave her 
scores of short and rapid in and outs.  With her hands clawing my 
legs, she leaned back against my raised knees and howled at the 
rafters, clamping me firmly within her as she did and gushing out 
more lubricants, by then hardly needed.

	She collapsed atop me and let her legs slide down beside mine. 
She drooled on my shoulder and made small, satisfied noises down 
in her chest, nearly a purr.  I rolled her over, bent above her, held 
her wide pelvic bones and pumped out my pleasure into her while 
she lay mewling, nearly inert, only her sodden cunny reacting to my 
fierce and prolonged onslaught.  When I came again, it was 
explosively, shaking us both as I cried out, "Hah, hah, hah!" and she 
jumped and spasmed below me as if shocked by lightening.

	We slept, hands on each other, and I rose with the dawn, 
eager to plunge my huge erection into her more than willing body.  
She was not in the bed nor in the cabin for that matter.  I crawled 
out, pulled on my shirt and boots and went outside.  The woman 
met me halfway to the necessary with a smile.  She glanced at my 
groin as we passed but did not comment on the prominent 
protrusion.   She was wearing a linen shift and her heavy boots.  
Her dark hair flew in the wind, unbound, and I hurried to do what 
was needed, pissing with some difficulty though my extended hard-
on.

	When I returned to the small house, my pole still painfully hard 
and preceding me by what felt like a yard or so, she was standing at 
the foot of her rope bed, looking serious.  "Were you fooling `bout 
my Da?" she asked, licking her lips and staring as my rearing 
weapon,  "Jus' to get laid?"

	I shook my head, gathered her in and kissed her firmly and 
deeply, letting my turgid member slid beside her wide hip and up 
along her ribs.

	"Aw right then" she said, leaning back and passing my aching 
prod from hand to hand, tweaking its tender head, thumbing the 
ridge.  "Once more, then we go fetch him."

	I nodded, turned her about, flipped up her shift's tattered 
hem and took her from behind, her lush body bent over the foot of 
the bed, her feet wide apart.  I drove my rigid member into her an 
inch or two, paused in the constricted passage while she wiggled 
and grunted, took a deep breath, gained some strength and pushed 
it farther in as she hooked her feet behind my knees and squealed.  I 
got leverage from the bedstead, withdrew a bit and then regained 
my advantage with a forward thrust, braced on my toes.  She made 
a throat noise, a grunt, arched her back, and I shoved my heated 
spear a bit deeper and then deeper still, another three inches or so, 
until I was flat against her buttocks and my hands were full of her 
hanging breasts.  My rock-hard stones bounced against her crotch 
and my stomach muscles contracted, my cock jerked and flexed 
within her.  She shivered. Then we began, almost mechanically, like 
one of those deep-shaft mine engines, pumping harder and harder 
while I held her hips to me.  By the time we finished, she was down 
on her hands and knees, forehead on the floor, and I was still 
lunging into her, grunting, "Uh, uh, uh," as I did, giving her nearly 
my full length at a time, my root thick as my wrist, at least a hand 
long and just as bony.

	"Nah, no more, no more," she moaned after what must have 
been two hundred strokes.  "Please, please," she sighed, her body 
shaking as I came again and emptied myself in her, bent over her 
trembling back. When my mast finally relaxed, I pulled it out, and 
she turned, still on her knees, lifted the flaccid thing and took it into 
her mouth, her tear-filled eyes smiling at me as she sucked.

	"No need for that," I said, caressing her wonderful breasts, 
tickling their soft undersides, then pulling her chin loose and raising 
her mouth to mine.

	"Uhm, um," she said, ducking down again, licking and sucking 
until she was convinced I was thoroughly drained.

	We dressed, ate something and hurried off on foot to find her 
father and free him if we could.  What we found was a work gang 
of twenty or so men, local farmers all from the look of them, wearing 
shackles on their ankles and digging ditches and postholes.  They 
were guarded by a half-dozen local militiamen, a motley crew that 
appeared to be drunk despite the early hour.  I dispatched the only 
sentry with my big knife, and we circled to come in behind the 
guards' tent.

	I loaded my musket with buck and ball, gave the young 
woman my hatchet since all she had was the small skinning knife she 
had used on the subaltern, and felt confident we could do the job 
once we saw the opposition.  She went left, I went right and we had 
four dead men at our feet in less time than it takes to tell about it.  
Mary Margaret was truly unforgettable with a bloody hatchet in her 
hand, and I find it hard to forget the sound that weapon made 
cracking open a man's head and spilling out his white and pink 
brains.

	I found some keys in searching the ragged corpses and set to 
work freeing the hungry captives.  Most scattered after brief thanks 
and soon it was just the big girl, her haggard father and me.  He 
was a fair-sized man of fifty years or so, silver haired and one-eyed 
from some terrible accident judging by the scar on his face.  He 
pumped my hand, and we scoured the camp for food, ammunition 
and anything else worth taking and then set fire to the rest.  By high 
noon we were back at the ferry and sitting at the table in the small 
cabin.

	"My job is to destroy your boat out there," I told him after his 
daughter explained the new horses in the shed.

	"Hm," he said, rubbing his chin, "well, I need that old scow."

	"Think of some way to hide it?" I asked.

	"Mebbe," she said, scratching his head.  "Them horses might 
tow `er up to the muddy stream comes in from the east."

	"No time like right now," I suggested, and the three of us got 
to work.  We rigged a heavy rope for the horses to pull and once 
the barge got moving, the man and his daughter manned the poles, 
and I kept the horses to their task.  By sunset we had the ferryboat 
safely under some brush and tree limbs and trudged back to the 
small cabin.  The man took the bed, the girl scrambled up to the loft 
with a grin at me, and I rolled up in my blanket near the chimney.  
Sometime later, two or three hours probably judging by the moon, 
she kicked me in the ribs, gently.  She stood there with her blanket 
about her and her finger to her lips, barely visible in the pale light 
from the dirty window and the coals of the dying fire.

	I followed her up to the loft with my blanket and we rolled 
together, side by side.  "He sleeps pretty good," she whispered into 
my mouth as she ran a hand up my back.

	I hoisted one thick thigh up above mine and rammed my 
aching lance into her.  Tight fit, but we made do and lunged to and 
fro until we did all we could that way.  I pulled her atop me, and we 
swived some more, her face buried in my pounding chest to muffle 
her grunts and sobs.  I gritted my teeth when I came, clamping her 
to me, and soon we had a regular swamp between us.  We lay back, 
side-by-side, getting out breath and resting.  And we fell asleep only 
to awaken to the old man's cry.  I was hard, of course.

	"Redcoats," he yelled, "a bunch a'them."

	I slid down the ladder, grabbed my britches and found my 
musket just as a heavy fist crashed against the thin door.  The big 
girl sat on her father's bed, holding him, her shift hanging loosely 
from her luscious breasts, my hatchet in her lap.  I clamped on my 
bayonet as the door sprang open and a thin officer followed by a 
bulky infantryman almost leapt into the cabin.  I brushed the officer 
aside with the butt of my musket, speared the soldier though the 
throat. kicked his body off and stepped into the yard.  Two 
Redcoats lounged by the gate where the officer's horse was tied.  I 
did not want to hit the horse so I leveled my weapon and ran at 
them, yelling like a madman.

	Evidently neither had bothered to load his weapon so I 
bayoneted one in the chest just as he withdrew his ramrod and then 
knelt and shot down the other as he ran for the river.  He flung 
wide his arms and fell face first into the mud, sliding down to the 
stream's edge and leaving a bloody trail behind him, ending with his 
head and hands beneath the water.  

	I quickly searched the bodies, took what I wanted and then 
tossed the three corpses into the stream and watched them float 
away, bobbing in the current.  The young officer had lost a couple of 
teeth but seemed otherwise undamaged, so I trussed him up and 
stowed him in the shed.

	"By damn," the girl's father said when things had quieted 
down, "that was some show you put on."

	"Fools," I said, "walked into something of a surprise, didn't 
they."

	He nodded.  "Looked like you had somethin' else on yer mind 
when y'come down from the loft there," he said, smiling at me.  
"Think I'll take a bit of walk, check my trap line.  Be back in an hour 
or so, daughter,"

	We made good use of the time in the old man's bed, testing 
each other's endurance.  Eventually she had her legs on my chest 
and her feet behind my head while I reared up and rammed my 
swollen phallus into her sinuous passage like some demon of old.  
We parted with a kiss and I promised to try to get back to the place.  
My lieutenant chewed me thoroughly for the shoddy prisoner I 
brought in but did accept my explanation of hiding the boat rather 
than destroying it.  So on we went in our long retreat.


<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+