index


Message-ID: <47598asstr$1082837404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 26
Lines: 801
Date: Sat, 24 Apr 2004 16:10:04 -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 026.txt" begin>

Rebel 026

Hannah and Her Mother

	The captain's wife and daughter were snotty, supercilious 
bitches; that was the consensus after they had been in camp less 
than a week.  By the end of two weeks, that opinion had solidified 
and they were considered mean-spirited and demanding as well.  
We would be, all agreed, glad to see the back of them despite their 
obvious and sourly admitted beauty.  When Foster called me in and 
handed me a purse, I knew it was my turn in the barrel.  He smiled.

	"Take them two friggin' females back to the Hoosic River, 
m'boy.  Do it quick as you can and then git back here.  No dallying."

	"Why me?" I whined.

	"You done good at this a'fore," he said.  "Git on."

	It was nearly a hundred miles, much of it in territory the 
British held, more or less.  Although the roads were solid, it would 
take me a week to get there and ride back.  I hitched my horse 
behind their well-appointed wagon, introduced myself to the ladies.  
Both barely nodded in response, and we were off well before noon.

	The women sat on the sprung and upholstered seat behind 
me, chattering away, and I chewed and spat since the first thing 
they told me was not to smoke.  We stopped in mid-afternoon and 
they enjoyed a meal the cooks had prepared for them.  I gnawed a 
bit of jerky and ate some hard biscuits.  I thought my nasty 
thoughts.

	About dusk, the mother tapped me on the shoulder.  "We've 
stayed at the inn just ahead.  Stop there."

	"Yes'm," I said without looking back.  It was the first time she 
had spoken to me all day.

	I pulled into the stable yard and stopped.  They got down 
with my help and headed for the necessary while I saw to the three 
animals.  By the time I got to the tavern, all hell had broken loose, 
and I found myself in the midst of a very nasty fight.

	The mother was struggling with two men who seemed to be 
trying to bend her over a table.  She had her head down and was 
snorting and swinging her fists in the air while the men cuffed her 
about and tore at her clothes.  I pulled one off and bashed his head 
again the doorjamb and then faced the other, who had freed the 
woman and pulled a pistol from the back of his belt.  I threw my 
knife at him with the quick flip and it made him duck.  I dove in, 
drove him to the floor, battered his face and then became aware of 
screaming, a girl's high-pitched howl, from the floor above.

	I hit the man square in the face, scrambled off him, found my 
knife and cut his throat with backhanded slash.  Then I galloped for 
the stairs as the girl screeched again, a muffled cry. Her mother, I 
noticed, stood sobbing with one hand on the table and the other 
holding her dress to her chest.  I took the steps in three jumps, 
kicked open the door where the noise was coming from and found 
three big young men attempting to tie the daughter to a bed.  The 
young woman was still wearing her stays and a torn fragment of her 
shift.  One ankle and a wrist had been bound, and she was twisting, 
turning and yelling while one boy sat on her chest and attempted to 
stuff his engorged member in her mouth at the same time his 
compatriots worked at getting her hands and feet securely bound.

	I pulled the horny man off the girl and threw him into the one 
at the foot of the bed.  Then I knifed the fellow holding her arm and 
turned to slash at the other two.  I got one in the back as he made 
for the door, but the other ran down the stairs and grabbed the 
girl's mother.  I cut the sobbing youngster loose, noting her lush 
young body as I did, and hurried after him, already aroused by the 
fight.

	He fired as I got to the bottom of the stairs, spraying wood 
chips past my face.  Then he threw the pistol at me and dragged the 
struggling woman out the back door, drawing a knife from his belt 
as he did.  I ran after them, but he stopped me at the doorway.

	"I'll kill `er," he screamed, the point of his short blade at the 
mother's throat.  "I will!"  Her eyes were wide and her bodice was 
flapping open.

	I sheathed my bayonet and showed him my open hands.

	"You stay on back," he yelled.  "I'm a'leaving here."

	I nodded and smiled at him.

	"She's," he said, looking around wildly, "she's going wi'me."

	"No," I said walking slowly after them and closing the 
distance.  "She'll just slow you down.  Let her go."

	"Stay back," He yelled just as he tripped over the corner of 
the watering trough, and the woman managed to twist free of his 
suddenly-loosened grip.

	I was on him before he regained his balance.  He swung at me 
with his blade, back and forth twice, and then I grabbed his wrist, 
yanked him off his feet and drove his head down in the foot-deep 
trough.  I held him there until he stopped making bubbles and 
squirming and then left his body head-down in the water, bobbing 
up and down.

	"Your daughter needs you," I said to the woman standing by 
her wagon's back wheel.  "Get her some fresh clothes."

	She looked at me as if she did not understand English and 
then nodded.  I went back into the tavern and found the innkeeper 
and his serving wench or wife, a woman about his age, both dead in 
the kitchen.  The woman had obviously been used roughly before 
she was killed.

	I stopped the mother as she entered the inn, her arms full of 
clothes.  "Is there a river nearby?" I asked.

	She shook her head, still too stunned to talk.

	I found some soft ground back of the stable and dug a deep 
hole, big enough for two, wrapped the innkeeper and the woman's 
body in blankets and buried them as best I could.  I put some good-
sized stones atop the freshly turned ground. Then I dragged the 
five corpses of the men I had killed off to the edge of a treeline, 
covered them with deadfall limbs and brush, poured on a jug of oil 
and set the pile ablaze with a flintlock.  I doubted the fire would 
consume them, but I sure hoped the wind would keep blowing the 
smoke and smell away from the tavern.

	It was fully dark by the time I finished, and I was bone tired 
and hungry.  I flopped at a table and the girl brought me a big bowl 
of stew and a plate with a loaf of crusty bread.  "This was on the 
stove," she said, sitting across from me.  "Mama's upstairs.  She did 
eat a little, but she's awful upset." She was wearing a very plain 
dress with a buttoned up neckline and tucked in kerchief that did 
little to detract from the swell of her young bubbies. She obviously 
still wore tightly-laced stays that pushed her breasts up and 
together.

	"You all right?" I asked, spooning up the squirrel stew.

	She nodded and swallowed.

	"And you ate?"

	She nodded again.

The glow from the burning bodies at the treeline glinted in her 
eyes.

	"Tell me," I said. "How did that happen?"

	"They were roaring drunk," she said.  "And we walked right 
in on them.  They were on us like wolves.  I guess those folks you 
buried were already dead."

	I nodded.  They had been stiff.

	"Anyhow," she said, tearing off a piece of bread and nibbling.  
"They dragged me upstairs so I don't know what happened to 
Mama."

	"She was putting up a good fight when I got here," I told her.  
"She might have a black eye tomorrow."

	She nodded.  "So, well, they tore off my clothes and tried to 
tie me up with strips of my dress and shift.  I scratched and kicked 
and yelled."  She sniffed.

	"You did just fine," I said, giving her a smile.

	"Never saw men act like that," she said.

	I chewed.

	"Then you came in, and, well, it was like a blur, and you were 
out the door again."

	Neither of us mentioned the man who had been sitting on her 
chest.

	"Now what?" I asked.

	"I guess we sleep here."

	I nodded.  "Too dark to travel."

	"Might be more of them around," she said.

	"Doubt it," I told her and patted her hand.

	"They soldiers?"

	"Maybe," I said.

	"Whose?"

	"Can't say.  Didn't ask."

	She yanked her hand away from my paw.

	"Go see to your Ma," I said, trying to ignore my growing 
arousal.

	She nodded and went up the steps.  I found a bottle of whisky 
and helped myself.  In a while they both came down, the mother 
had changed her clothes as well.  We sat in the light of the big 
fireplace and breathed together, some tension between us.

	"There are two beds up there," the mother said, lifting her 
regal chin. "We'll take the front room."

	I nodded.

	"I hope we can trust you," she said.

	I smiled at her.  "Bolt the door," I said.

	Before I slept, I went out and encouraged my funeral pyre 
again with some whale oil.  It was a nasty thing to look at and worse 
to smell.  It would have been hard to find anything looking human.  
The bodies seemed to have melted together.

	Free of my belt, boot and britches, I slid under the old quilt 
and was nearly gone when the door quietly opened and a ghostly 
figure came to the side of my bed.

	"You asleep?" the girl asked.

	I reached out and found her hand after touching her leg.  
"Nope."

	"Will you, I mean, I," she stopped and I held up the side of the 
quilt.  She sat and rolled in, her back to my front.  I put my arm 
around her and gently held her small breast.  She purred.

	"It was awful," she said quietly, wiggling her rounded rump 
back at my belly and covering my gripping hand with hers.  I felt her 
small nipple hardening between my thumb and forefinger.  "They 
told me what they were going to do."

	"Try to forget it," I said.

	"Um," she said, squirming.  "This feels good."  She was right.

	"Doubt your mother would approve."

	She giggled in her throat.  "She's sound asleep."

	My mast began to rise as our bodies warmed each other.  I 
guess she felt it as it slipped between her legs, tenting out her loose-
fitting nightdress.

	"Don't," she said, "please.  I just need to feel you near.  I was 
afraid. Couldn't sleep."

	"You're asking a lot."  I took a deep breath, completely unable 
to control my body.  My free hand slid down across her stomach, 
drew up her dress to bare her hips and crawled through her sparse 
hair to find her tight slit and her tiny nub at its top.  Her belly 
quivered under my palm.

	"That's nice," she sighed, as I petted it.  "I've only known a 
man once.  Two years ago when I was fourteen, my uncle . . ." She 
trembled and stiffened.  "Um," she said and turned her head to kiss 
my stubbbled cheek.  "I didn't know what he was doing.  He put his 
fingers in me.  Ah, yes, yes, just like that."

	She was already wet and getting wetter.

	"And then, and then" she gulped as I stimulated her deeply, 
finding a place she seemed to enjoy, "he had me kneel on this 
bench." She sniffed and then gasped as my thumb flicked her clitoris 
and massaged it to rigidity.

	"Did he take your maidenhead?" I asked at her ear, two 
fingers well into her tight passage, walking about and probing 
deeper.

	"I don't know," she whispered.  "He poked me."

	"Did you bleed?   Did it hurt?"

	She shook her head and arched her back as she neared her 
climax.  I kissed and sucked her neck and tightened my grip on her 
firm breast.  If she still had a hymen, I could not feel it.  It was either 
deeper or gone.

	"He apologized, wept and carried on.  He gave me a gold 
coin.  Told me it was our secret.  I never saw him again. He - ahh."  
She came, spasmed and moaned, gushing fluids on my hand and 
snorting like a wild horse, legs kicking, back arched.

	When she subsided and her breathing returned to normal, I 
got her to roll over and face me, my hard spike jutting out between 
us, its rounded head at her soft belly, in among the folds of her 
dress.  "Why are you here?" I asked, holding her gently.

	She reached down between us and took my thick stalk in her 
hand, gripping it firmly.  "This," she said.  "Today that man tried to 
put his in my mouth.  I was afraid, but I was excited.  I'd never seen 
one except on children.  Friends, girl friends, have told me, I mean 
about men, but, but it's so hard, so hot."  She stroked me. "And 
smooth and long."

	"Don't you want to wed as a virgin?" I asked after kissing her 
lips very gently.

	"I don't know," she said, still running her hand up and down 
my hard rod.  "My friends, well, most of them say . . ."

	"You decide," I said, "not what others do."

	She nodded, released my spear and slid from my bed.  "Thank 
you," she said and padded away into the dark.

	I cursed myself for a fool, turned over, kept my hands off 
myself and slept.  The sun was not quite up when my door creaked 
open again.  The girl's mother shook my shoulder, and I rolled over 
to face her, barely aware that my huge erection swung about with 
me, like a bowsprit on a turning boat.  I saw her eyes widen, but 
then she looked into my face and licked her lips in the pale light.

	"There are noises," she said, "outside.  I looked, but couldn't 
see anything, anyone."

	"I'll go see," I said, swinging my legs out of bed and sitting 
there with my anxious stalk rearing up and pointing toward the 
rafters.  The woman all but ran from the room.  I got dressed, 
shambled down the stairs and went out the back door.  It was a 
pack of dogs, perhaps two dozen, all sizes, wild curs, and they were 
tearing at my crisped stack of barely-recognizable bodies and 
running off with tattered pieces of what had been men.

	I watched for a few minutes as the pink light of pre-dawn 
made the gory spectacle clearer and then headed back for my bed.  
The woman met me at the top of the stairs.

	"Well?" she said, her hand at my shoulder.

	"You don't want to know," I told her.

	"Please," she said.  "I was afraid."

	"Dogs," I said.

	She shuddered, put her head on my chest and her arms about 
my neck.  I held her, my hard ram well down my leg.

	She whispered, pushing me toward my door.  "I saw it, you 
know, saw your male member sticking out."

	It had relaxed a good bit but since I had not visited the privy 
when I went investigating, it was still rather outsized and surely 
eager, blood hot.

	She pushed the door closed behind us and rose on her toes to 
capture my mouth with hers.  I held her to me and enjoyed the feel 
of her warm curves.  She was a stone or so heftier than her 
daughter, and she rubbed her rich body against mine in a most 
stimulating way.  Her nightdress was long and thin; it barely clung 
to her narrow shoulders.  I bent and kissed her neck, nudging it 
aside.  She shivered and it slid to the floor with a faint rustle, 
pausing at her hips.

	I freed her and she crawled up and under my covers while I 
quickly doffed my boots and britches.  My prod sprung up dutifully.  
She smiled at it as I slid in beside her and captured her mouth.

	"I could not believe it," she said when I freed her lips.  "Please 
be gentle." She spread herself for me, lifting her knees.  I assumed 
she was ready and mounted at once, thrusting forward with my 
pelvis.  She sucked in air noisily as I entered her and then tilted up 
her hips and grabbed my butt.  In it went, all the way to the very 
hilt, and she gasped and rocked from side to side as I banged her 
bones repeatedly.  "A monster," she cried happily, "such a fine 
monster."

	It was typical of my morning gift from the gods of 
licentiousness, and it took us some time to satisfy its needs as well as 
to sate our mutual lust and longing.  She was astride my loins as the 
sun rose, head bowed down toward mine and rutting like a mad 
thing with her heavy breasts swinging to and fro when her 
daughter entered the room.  I saw the startled girl, but her busy 
mother did not.  She smiled at me and I returned her smile as her 
mother lifted her head and put her fist in her mouth to stifle her 
howl of pleasure.

	The girl vanished in a flair of white cloth.

	We made good time that second day, and the women even 
included me in their conversation and comments on the countryside 
from time to time.  We found a very fine stage inn and enjoyed a 
good meal in midafternoon and then stopped well before dark 
having covered, I estimated, at least thirty-five miles and having 
seen almost no one.

	Things were a bit tense after we snacked and headed for the 
only bed they had left.  The girl stripped to her shift quickly and slid 
under the covers, her eyes bright.  Her mother stood with her back 
to the door, obviously unsure.

	"I can sleep on the floor," I said, "or out in the stable.  I've got 
a blanket roll."

	She nodded.  "That might be better."

	"No," the voice from the bed.  "It's my turn.  You had him this 
morning."

	"Hannah," the woman said sternly.  It was the first time I 
knew either female's name.

	"Mother," the girl said.  "I saw you."

	The woman smiled at me.  "We'll share; he's big enough," she 
said.  "Go on."

	I stripped to my skin and climbed in next to the waiting girl.  
Her mother was soon at my back.

	"This is cozy," she said.  "Isn't it?"  She rubbed my shoulders.

	"Go to sleep," said the girl, turning to face me.  Our noses met, 
and with her help I skinned her out of her clinging shift.

	I took her that way, with her leg above mine, on our sides, her 
foot hooked behind my knee, and my horn never found a 
maidenhead, just a slick, deep, sinuous and very tight and constantly 
throbbing cavity that gave us both a great deal of joy.  We pumped 
and heaved together and when the girl came, I covered her mouth 
with mine but not before she uttered a fine yip of pleasure.  As I 
continued on toward my release, fiercely trusting my hips at her, I 
felt the mother's hand on my back, tapping me insistently.

	"Don't do it in her, please don't.  She's too young to bear 
children."

	The girl gasped and shuddered under my hammering thrusts, 
matching me ram for heave with her young body, gasping with each 
noisy joining as we slapped our bellies together.  When I felt my 
ballocks tingle and swell, I drew my spear from her dripping cunny 
despite her protests and turned my back to her.  The woman 
immediately squirmed down with her hands on my waist and took 
my cock's tender head into her soft mouth just before it spurted 
gobs of jism.  I bit my lips and she sucked it down, all of it, and 
when I had finished jolting into her throat, she slid back up to kiss 
me and give me a taste of my own sperm.

	The girl beat on my back as I caressed her mother.  "I want 
more," she cried.  Her mother stroked me back to readiness, and I 
rolled to my back and helped her daughter mount me.  Then she 
flailed me with her long hair as she satisfied herself again and 
collapsed with a gasp and lingering sigh.  She rolled off, nearly inert, 
and I turned toward her mother, still hard, still ready for more.  I 
took the woman from the back, spoon fashion and then pulled her 
atop me, caressing her jutting breasts and teasing her throbbing nub 
until she climaxed and cried out, biting my arm to cover her scream.  
I enjoyed my own orgasm soon after, pumping repeatedly into the 
bucking woman while her body jumped and jolted under my 
pounding, her legs down at my sides.

	When my active spear slid from her soft, wet body, she rolled 
off beside me and we kissed and cuddled for a bit.  "Sleep," she 
said.  "I want you in the morning.  That was wonderful this 
morning, the best I've ever felt."

	"And this?" I asked, holding us together and gnawing her 
lower lip.

	"Good," she said, "very good, but not great."

	"Again then," I said boldly, thoroughly spent.

	"Sleep, you big bull.  You'll need your rest."  We kissed briefly 
and then the three of us slept, spoon fashion until my snoring woke 
them both. I felt two hands on my swollen prod.  "Hannah's turn," I 
whispered, turning toward the daughter who dragged me atop her 
without pause, spreading wide her legs.  We snorted and heaved 
together, and she wrapped me in her long legs and came almost at 
once, crying out, "Oh, oh, oh," as I continued to ram my thick horn 
into her.  Again the woman pulled me off her daughter when my 
breathing got ragged, and this time took my juddering spurts in her 
hands and nightgown.  Then we slept again until the dawn.

	When I awoke, the girl was dead to the world beside me, but 
the woman's side of the bed was empty.  I rolled out that way and 
then saw her standing near the window.  She beckoned to me, and I 
crossed the room, well aware that I was preceded by a startling 
spear of inordinate size and youthful strength.

	"There are men out there," she said quietly as I stood beside 
her, my prod at her hip, furnace hot.  "Soldiers. Redcoats I think."

	I looked where she pointed while her hand found my ram and 
stroked it gently.  I nodded.  "You're right, dragoons, a whole 
squad."

	"What shall we do?" she asked looking up at me, both hands 
now on my thick prod which jumped and jerked in her grip.  She 
shifted one hand to my hard stones, hoisting and kneading them, 
her eyes on mine, pleading.

	"Turn about," I said, "put your hands on the sill and hold on 
tight."  I flipped up her light nightgown and brought my tool to her 
dripping cunny as she spread her legs.  I held her hips, bent my 
knees and drove it up into her, still watching the men below.  She 
gasped.  "They're coming in."

	"Let them," I managed to grunt out between grinding teeth, 
"let them.  We're busy."  I was lifting her feet clear of the floor with 
each thrust, and she eventually got her legs hooked behind me, still 
holding tight to the sill as I rogered her with all my might, hands 
filled with her breasts.

	"Oh God," she gasped, "God, God, God, God" as she came, 
her body stretched out and trembling under my assault.  Her feet 
slid to the floor and she sank to her knees, with me right behind her, 
still holding her wide hips and still giving her long, hard thrusts of 
my huge, thick-veined root.  When I came, shortly after she spasmed 
again, it was explosively, and she took it gasping, her forehead 
against the windowsill.  I withdrew, still long and fat, and looked 
down at the men milling about the well, hoping they would 
disappear.  At my feet the woman, made herself small and mewled, 
panting for breath.

	I gathered her up and carried her back to our bed, awaking 
her daughter as I deposited her and covered her.  The girl looked at 
me and licked her lips.  "What's going on?" she asked looking from 
my face to my groin where my massive member was regaining its 
iron-hard disposition although hanging down toward my knee like a 
blood sausage.

	"Some riders, Redcoats," I said, "out in the yard." I pointed at 
the window, and then walked to her side of the bed, my bobbling 
mast well before me.  "Do you want this?" I asked her in a whisper.

	She looked at it, shuddered, shook her head, and then turned 
her back to me.

	I dressed as quickly as I could, stuffing my hungry horn out of 
sight.  I clamped on my belt and went down to the inn, hoping for 
some food and also hoping the British would be on their way.

	"That's the man," the innkeeper said as I reached the bottom 
of the stairs.

	The cavalry captain turned to face me with a sneer.  "You've 
two women up there, so he says."

	"Indeed," I said, crossing the room.  "And what is that to you, 
sir?"

	"Well, rustic," he said, looking to the innkeeper with a smile, 
"we're always on the lookout for women willing to serve his 
Britannic majesty, and his majesty's men.  And since you have two, 
well."

	"Both my responsibility," I said.  "Neither one's available."

	"Then," he said, his color rising and his hand on the hilt of his 
sword, "I may take both.  I've got a dozen horny men out there.  
Every woman for miles seems to have disappeared."

	"If you draw that thing," I said to him, holding his eyes, "you 
are a dead man."  I saw the tavern owner duck down out of the 
corner of my eye and reached over to grab the front of his shirt and 
apron and yank him over his counter to sprawl on the dirty floor. 
 
"Lickspittle," I called him as I nudged him sharply with my 
boot.

	 Out came the captain's bright sword with a hiss, and by the 
time its point had cleared his scabbard the tip of my bayonet was 
under his chin and my fist held his wrist.  "Drop it or die," I said 
quietly.  He dropped it and I kicked it away.  "Now," I said as I 
bent his arm up into the middle of his back, "this is where I have a 
certain advantage.  You are a gentleman, are you not?"

	He nodded carefully as the innkeeper began to scuttle away.  
"Stop," I yelled at him.  "Go sit over there." I pointed with my big 
blade and then got it right back to the officer's throat.  "I'll take 
your word, captain, that in return for your life, which is both 
worthless and meaningless to me, you will take your men and leave 
this place and not bother the two women I am escorting."

	I felt the man take a breath.  "Do I have your word?"

	"Yes, yes, of course," the man said just as a young subaltern 
came through the back door.  "Jacobs," the captain said as I bent his 
arm a bit more, "get the men ready to ride.  Make sure their 
canteens are full."

	The young officer looked at the two of us oddly but then 
saluted and left.  I eased my pressure and then released the man 
who rubbed his shoulder and scowled at me.  I fetched him his 
sword and handed it to him, handle first.  He sheathed it and 
stalked out.

	"Hannah," I yelled, "you and your mother can come down 
now." I turned my attention to the innkeeper.

	"I meant no harm," he whined.

	"You're a bloody Tory," I said, "and I am going to cut off 
your prick and feed it to you."

	I heard the women coming down the stairs.  "Get us some 
food," I told the quaking man, "and be quick about it."  From 
outside came the sound of the riders departing.  I should have 
counted them, but instead I relaxed, enjoyed a good breakfast and, 
as I headed for the privy, I was clubbed insensible, probably with 
the butt of a carbine.

	I awoke to the sound of women's screams, one from above 
and another nearby. The sun was well up, so I had been out for a 
good while.  When my vision cleared, I saw Hannah being raped in 
the middle of the tavern, bent over a chair with a big dragoon 
humping his horn into her from the back while another was trying to 
force the girl to open her mouth for his limp, fat, discolored root.  
He held her nose and yanked her hair.  She gasped.  In it went to 
stop her screams while the man behind her shuddered and stiffened, 
a grimace on his reddened face.  He pulled his flopping member from 
her and wiped in on the hem of her torn shift.  Another Redcoat in 
shirtsleeves immediately took his place and rammed his rigid tool into 
the poor girl.  I could not tell whether or not he was buggering her.  
Meanwhile, from the floor above came howls of pain and cries, of 
"Don't don't, please don't.  No more, no more."

	I was hogtied in a corner of the ordinary and the back of my 
head felt as if it was cracked open and burning.  I watched the man 
at the girl's face pull his turgid member from her lips and milk out a 
final gob of sperm on her chin. Then he slapped her in the face, very 
hard, first with his cock and then with his hand.  She cried out, her 
body jerking from the heaves of the horseman behind her. 
Hammered from the back, the young woman hung her head and 
endured her pain.  A big sergeant was next, and he hauled her to a 
table, slapped her down on her back and drew her to him so her 
rump was on the table's edge where he waited with his upcurved 
prong.  He stood there, holding the slim girl's hips and rogered her 
bouncing body for five minutes or so, grunting like a pig.

	When the sergeant was done, he put his flaccid member away 
and yelled, "Enough a'this, git yer asses down `ere."  The two 
officers were nowhere to be seen.  "`Urry, `urry," he yelled at his 
men as Hannah slipped to the floor and drew her knees up by her 
chin, whimpering.  Feet thundered down the steps as four men 
appeared from above.

	The cavalrymen grabbed their coats and ran for the back door 
as their sergeant smashed two oil lamps in the middle of the room.  I 
wondered what had happened to the innkeeper as the soldier 
kicked a burning log from the fireplace and flames flared up, 
crackling and smoking.

	He ran out the back door, coat and belts in hand, as Hannah 
sat up and stared at the flames that were creeping toward her.

	"Over here, girl," I yelled.  She looked about, finally saw me 
and crawled my way.  Blood dripped from her lips.  She was nearly 
naked to the waist, her small breasts showing several bite marks 
under her torn shift.

	She managed to untie me although the process was agonizingly 
slow.  I helped her to the kitchen, stepping over the body of the 
innkeeper as I did.  Then I ran through the fire to the stairs and 
found the girl's mother sprawled across our bed.  I thought she was 
dead, but she moaned when I picked her up and hurried back down 
the smoldering staircase.  I got her out the front door and then 
fetched her daughter.  We hurried off into the woods and watched 
the inn burn.

	"I've got to get the horses," I told the girl who was sheltering 
her mother in her arms.  The woman's eyes were open but she did 
not seem to be seeing anything.

	She nodded and licked her bloody lip.

	I ran to the stable, which was already on fire, and dragged the 
three horses out, leading them by their halters back toward our 
hiding place.  By the time I found them, the shed and their wagon 
were engulfed in roaring flames.

	I gave the shivering girl my shirt, and she shrugged into it and 
then handed me my heavy belt and bayonet.  "It was in the 
kitchen," she said with a small smile.  She still had her skirt, and her 
mother was decently dressed although her bodice had been torn 
open across her back.

	"That was awful," the girl said, shaking her head.

	I nodded.  It was still early in the day, probably an hour until 
high noon.  I cinched up my saddle, which I had thrown on my 
horse's back, and then tore my blanket in half to give the women a 
softer place to sit on the two grays that had been their team.

	"We'd best be going," I said, helping the girl's silent mother to 
clamber up and straddle the wide horse.  Hannah managed to jump 
aboard without my help.

	"We're both awful sore," she told me rather shyly.  I could see 
that the inside of both women's thighs were stained with mucous 
and their bruises were starting to show.  I nodded and we set off at 
an easy walk, the two grays following my mare, the women 
grasping the horses' manes.

	We stopped and walked every hour or so and before nightfall 
we reached the women's home on the banks of a small stream that 
led to the nearby river.  Servants welcomed them and a doctor was 
summoned.  I was fed, given back my shirt and sent off to a spare 
room.

	Dawn came again, and the back of my head ached.  I got to 
my feet, woozy but erect, as I almost always was in the morning.  
That was comforting.

	I breakfasted alone and wrote a note explaining why I had 
left.  As I was saddling up, the girl's mother appeared and took my 
hand.  "It wasn't your fault," she said.

	"It was," I said.  "I'm sorry.  Are you going to be all right, is 
Hannah?"

	She nodded.  "The doctor thinks so."

	I went back to the war, feeling myself a complete failure, angry 
and sad.

	Fate stepped in on my side.  That evening as I sat in the corner 
of a small tavern, filled with rabbit and beer, who should come in but 
the captain who had given me his word and his young ensign.  They 
sat near the front window in their bright red coats, and I noticed 
that there had been a good bit of kowtowing to them by the 
innkeeper and his people.

	I felt my gorge rise and was barely able to stay on my bench 
while they ate, playing with the serving girl, and then took their 
leave as the tavern owner refused their money.  I met them out back 
as they checked their cinches.  I waved the stable lad away, yanked 
the subaltern about and skewered him without a word, my hand 
over his mouth.  He slumped when I pulled my thick blade out of the 
middle of his chest.

	"Did you say something?" the captain asked from the far side 
of the horses.

	I came to face him, my knife dripping blood.  "He'll never say 
another thing," I told the bug-eyed man.

	He made to draw his sword and I slashed his arm open from 
elbow to wrist.  He screamed and held his bleeding arm to his chest.  
I pushed him back into the stable as the boy ran toward the inn.

	"I ought to cut out your tongue for lying to me," I said, the 
point of my bayonet at his belly.

	"The men did it," he whined.  "Not my fault."

	"You make war on defenseless women," I said, poking a bit 
harder.

	"No, no," he cried backing up until he was against the wall.

	"For hours, those bastards raped them, over and over."

	He shook his head, looking about for help.

	"Can you imagine what that feels like?"  I flicked my blade 
down, cutting though his belts and waistband.  His white britches 
fell to his knees.  My bayonet continued on down to his shrunken 
member and poked it, bringing blood.  "Turn about," I demanded, 
and he glanced at me with fear but did it.  I looked about for a 
weapon and spied an old, wrought iron poker that had broken and 
was being used to hold the shed door closed.  It still had its hooked 
end and perhaps a foot of shank.

	Perfect, I decided.  I showed it to the captain and he 
shuddered, holding his bleeding member.

	I set its pointed end between his ass cheeks and shoved.  In it 
went , taking his drawers with it and tearing him open as it did.  He 
screamed. I shoved it deeper and he gasped and fell to his knees, 
head between his hands.  I kicked at the broken spike sticking out of 
him until it disappeared. He fainted.  Then I found my horse and left 
quickly, highly pleased with myself for a change.



<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}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+