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Message-ID: <47440asstr$1081854604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel part 13
Lines: 301
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 2004 07:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 013.txt" begin>

Rebel 013 (Old Bill (Mf hist) 

A Good Girl

	There I was, tied to a post in a dirty barn, stripped bare to the
waist and facing as nasty a crew as I had yet found.  They did not
give a damn about rebels or Tories or anything else.  They wanted
money and they had mine and hoped I would lead them to more since
my purse had been heavy with British coin.  I had at least one
tooth that was loose, and my eyebrow was dripping blood.  I worked
on my knots, rubbing my hands up and down the rough post, failed to
get the thick pole moving by pulling on it and had pretty well
resigned myself to sleeping with my paws tied behind me and my
knees up by my chin when a small girl appeared with a shuttered
lanthorn in her hand.  She had long, wild hair and was wearing a
plain work dress.  She was barefoot and smiling. little more than a
child I thought at first.

	"By damn," she said quietly, setting down her lamp and opening
the small door so it shone on me, "them bastids wasn't lying."

	She walked right up to me, her face about chest high, looked up
and said, "I'm Lula."  Then she opened my foreflap like it was a
most ordinary thing to do, pulled out my limp member, caressed it
gently and took its head in her warm mouth.  She licked and sucked
a bit while she kneaded my stones and scratched my stalk, glancing
up at me from time to time and then holding my thighs tightly as my
root grew and hardened.  She was one fine cocksucker, and when it
was hard, she grabbed my lance at its thick root with both hands
while she tried to swallow the rest of it, gagging but still sucking.

	When she was satisfied that I was thoroughly engorged but was not
going to spew out my wad anytime soon, she found a milking stool,
stepped up before me, swung her left leg above my hipbone and got
my thick rod planted in her tight, nearly hairless cunny.  Then she
jumped up, swung her other leg above my hip and linked her ankles
behind the post I was tied to.  I looked down and watched my heavy-
ridged shaft slowly sink into her as she held me about the neck and
leaned back, gritting her teeth.  It was a very tight fit.

	She took a deep breath, sighed out, "`sblood," and bounced to and
fro, rogering me to a fare thee well. When she came she battered
her forehead on my chest, and when I came she clawed hard at my
ribs but held tight until I was done swelling, jumping and
ejaculating.  Then she lowered herself to her stool, tucked my
spent member out of sight, wiped her fingers on my britches,
buttoned me up and stepped down.

	"That was powerful good," she said, licking her lips. "You're a
bloody bull, you are."

	"How about untying me," I suggested, "we could do some better in
a bed or over there in the straw."

	"Cain't," she said, shaking her head and making her wild hair
fly.  "They'd kill me, that bunch.  `Sides they owns me. Uses me
regular, they does, filthy pigs."

	"You indentured?"

	She nodded.

	"Untie me and I'll set you loose, signed paper and all," I
promised, looking very serious.  "Then we can really do some
swiving."

	"How you gonna do that?" she demanded, hands on hips, head cocked
to the side.  "Jus' talk, that is."

	"My problem," I said.  "I'll do it or die trying."

	"That won't do me no good," she said quietly, "but I would like
to swive you again `thout climbing you like a damn tree. That's the
biggest and bes' thing I ever had in me, that horn a'yours."

	"Lula!" somebody yelled from outside.

	"Undo my hands," I pleaded, "Please, girl.  Freedom!"

	She hesitated and then quickly untied the knots between my wrists
as one of the cutthroats came into the barn, his musket held
loosely in both hands.

	"What `chu doing over there?  I needs me a good sucking," the man
said, coming almost close enough to reach while I wriggled my arms
loose of the looped rope.

	The girl backed up to stand at my elbow.  "We was jus' talkin',"
she said.  "Let's go back in that stall yonder, Jimmy."

	I grabbed the back of his collar as he walked past, musket in one
hand and crotch in the other, and I bashed his skull against the
post, cracking it open at the side.  He fell like a sack of grain,
and I quickly undid my ankles and checked his weapon's load.  I
found my belt and knife where they had tossed them, put a handful
of buckshot down atop his ball, reprimed, and asked the girl to
call another of the men out to the barn.

	She looked down at the dead man, sniffed, wiped her nose, and
yelled, "Rufe, you best get out here.  This big man's choking."

	Rufe arrived at a trot and as soon as he came through he door, I
smashed him down with the stock of my new musket and then pounded
his face to pulp with the butt of the weapon. Two down and four to
go, my mind said carefully as Rufe gurgled.

	"Which one of those skunks holds your contract?" I asked the girl
whose eyes were wide indeed as the dying man between us still
kicked a bit.

	"The black-haired one, Joseph," she said, "he's the leader I
guess. He done bought me off'n the folks that had me.  Didn' gi'
`em much choice."

	"How old are you?" I asked her, my hand on her skinny shoulder.

	"Dunno," she said, "sixteen, I think, fifteen mabbe. I'm
`dentured till I'm eighteen nohow."

	 "Lets go see if we can speed up the clock some."  I kicked Rufe
to make sure he was not going anywhere.

	She nodded and followed me across the yard to the back door. 
Inside one man sat with his head down on the table, dead drunk I
suppose.  He was quickly just dead.  As I drew my big knife out of
his back he barely quivered. I clamped my dripping bayonet onto my
musket.  Three more my calculating brain told me.

	Joseph, a burly man of middle years, and two younger men were in
the other room playing cards.  I slid over to get an angle, yelled,
"Joseph," and when he turned, I fired and charged. The load of buck
and ball blew the other two men off their chairs and sent their
leader tumbling to the floor with a shredded arm. I dispatched the
one with a belly wound, kicked the other to make sure he was dead
and then yanked the wounded man to his feet and smashed him in the
groin with the musket.

	He screamed very nicely, doubled up and tried to hold both his
crushed testicles and bleeding left arm at the same time.

	"You want to live to see morning?" I asked him.

	He nodded, hate in his eyes.

	I broke several of his ribs with the butt of the musket, and he
dropped to his knees.  I yanked him back up by the scruff of his
neck.  "Get this girl's paper," I said quietly.

	ÔGo t'hell," he said, "she's mine, only good for one thing."

	"Get it," I said, poking him with my stained bayonet.

	He hobbled to a carpenter's box in the corner, pulled up the lid
and found the folded contract.  I flipped it open, saw the name of
Lulabelle Connor and told him to sign it.

	"Got nuffin to write wif," he said, dropping into his chair,
moaning and holding his privates.

	I found a loose nail near the fireplace, pried it free and handed
it to him.  "Use your blood," I told him.

	"What!" he demanded, looking up at me.

	I stuck the tip of my knife in his nostril and sliced his nose
open.  "Here's more ink for you," I told him, sheathing the blade.
He put a hand to his face and scrawled something on the paper.  I
blotted it on his shirt and handed it to the cowering girl. "Now
about her freedom dues," I said.

	"You crazy?" the bleeding man asked, some fear now in his voice.

	"Ten quid ought to do," I said, plucking his purse from his
waist.  I hefted it and tossed it to the girl.  "You enjoyed
kicking me, didn't you?" I asked the sniveling man as I reloaded my
musket with a handful of buckshot.

	"Please," he said, dropping to the floor and begging me, hands
clasped before his bleeding face.

	I rammed the charge home and poked the muzzle into his mouth.  He
fell to the floor, wet himself, rolled into a ball and whimpered. 
I shot him in the knees, destroying them both and hurried the girl
from the cabin.

	"You have anything else here?" I asked her.

	She shook her head.

	"Let's get going then," I said.  "You can ride, can't you?"

	She nodded and we saddled two mares and left that place of death
with the sound of a keening man in our ears.  We said very little
to each other until we came to a small crossroads with a gristmill,
a forge and a tidy-looking tavern.  We sat, her dirty feet barely
touching the floor, and ate and drank and slowly relaxed.  By then
I had calmed down, the blood lust that drove me vanished into my
bones.

	"Tell me," I said, enjoying my ale, "how did you end up in such a
predicament?"

	"Spirit got me on the docks," she said, wiping her mouth on the
back of her hand.  "I was jus' beggin'.  Plunked me on a ship and
pretty soon, well, after a while I was in Philadelphia, a bit worn
you understand since there wasn't many females aboard."

	I nodded, wondering how some women managed to survive what men
did to them.

	"Then this here inn-keeper, he took my paper for five pounds,
yes, I think five pounds it was.  I was thirteen so it was a pound
a year he told me."

	I nodded.

	"He was a sodomite, he was, and he lef' me alone, mostly, but
when I ripened and these here popped out, he took me out'a the
kitchen and made me a," she sniffed, "I did the tables for `im
and," she looked away, "he made me a whore, thas' what he done.
Beat me till I done it."

	I put my hand on hers.

	"Then this bunch come along and they threatened him so he gave
`em my paper for tup'pence, signed me over to that Joseph you shot,
may `e rot in hell."

	She looked up at me, a tear on her cheek.  "They used me
something awful, every day, nearly every hour one a'them was after
me, bending me over, poking me hard.  Sucking an' swivin's all I
know."  She ducked her head down and sniffed again.

	I asked for some ink and a pen, and I doctored her contract so
she was a free woman of eighteen.  "Now," I said to her as she
folded the paper into her only pocket, "what are you going to do?"

	"Swive you," she said, "till yer eyes fall out."

	"And after that?"

	"We'll see, maybe this here place has work for me.  It's a right
good place."  She looked around.  "And there's only the one women
working that I can see and she's too old and ugly to make much on
her back."

	"You don't have to do that," I said.

	"I likes it mostly," she said, a smile brightening her girlish
face.

	I took her up to bed, undressed and lay back and let her do
whatever she wanted until we were both too tired to do more. I
concluded that she could surely support herself with her body for
she had learned some right good tricks.  We slept, comfortable
together despite the disparity of our sizes and as I fell asleep I
wondered about the morning and whether or not she could handle my
outsized member in the gray of dawn.

	She could, and she loved it.  When we came down and had
breakfast, the innkeeper gave us both very strange looks.  I
beckoned him to our table, and he came and sat with us.  I
introduced him to Lula and said she was looking for work.

	"What can you do?" the man asked, and since there was no one else
in the place, the girl laughed, dropped to her knees, plucked loose
his wrinkled member from beneath his apron, took it in her mouth
and brought him to a pumping orgasm in less than a minute. Then she
licked her lips, sat back in her chair, her hands in her lap and
said very demurely, "I'm twice as good at swiving."

	"I heard you this morning," the man said, buttoning his foreflap
and looking at me speculatively.  "Thought you'd never quit."

	"You want to hire her?" I asked him.

	He nodded and smiled.

	"Treat her fair," I said, "she's a good girl."









<1st attachment end>


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