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From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 037 (Old Bill) (MF hist)
Lines: 343
Date: Sun,  9 May 2004 18:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 037 (MF hist).txt" begin>

Rebel 037 (Old Bill) (MF hist)

Jill, I Suppose

	Out scouting by myself for a change, I heard some horses 
approaching and got off the rutted road.  Several blue-unformed 
Hessians rode past at a good canter leading a small group of 
riderless horses.  Once they were out of sight, I went on my way 
and in a few minutes came upon a big carriage, the source, it seemed 
obvious, of some of the horses.  At first I thought it was abandoned 
with some open trunks on the ground and clothes strewn about, but 
then I heard a scream and, as I rode around the big rig, found 
myself a spectator at a vicious rape.

	One big fellow was humping a wailing girl he had pinned to a 
back wheel while two others were wrestling a woman in flying 
skirts.  A slim officer sitting sideways on his horse was watching, 
looking amused.

	I slipped my musket from my back, jumped from my saddle 
and blew the officer off his horse before he could draw his sword.  
Then I clamped on my bayonet and speared the big rapist who was 
pushing himself off the girl clinging to the back wheel.  He screamed 
when I tore his belly open and collapsed atop his still rigid member.  
By then the two soldiers who had been trying to pin the other 
woman to the dirt had scrambled to their feet and were going for 
their stacked weapons, both with foreflaps undone.

	I yelled, "Halt!" loud as I could, and one stopped and raised 
his hands while the other dove for his musket.  I yanked my big 
pistol from the back of my belt, leveled it on my forearm and fired in 
his general direction with a load of buckshot.  I was about to attack 
the other Hessian who was standing with arms outstretched, 
looking hopeful, when someone cried "Stop, halten," and the girl 
with the bloody nose who was just climbing to her knees cried, 
"Behind you!" 

	I ducked and spun about to face a big man with a sword in his 
hand.  He leapt gracefully from the carriage door showing me his 
teeth and whirling his weapon.  I parried his first thrust and cracked 
him in the side of the head with the stock of my musket. It made a 
sound like striking a ripe watermelon with the flat of your hand.  
The girl behind me screamed as he fell.

	I turned and found her in the grip of a Hessian grenadier who 
had wound his hand in her hair and clamped his forearm about her 
neck.  She looked like a pretty healthy young woman and I saw no 
weapon, so I did not hesitate and charged at him, bayonet leveled.  
He threw her aside and raised his hands in surrender just before I 
drove my big blade through his chest and took him off his feet, legs 
thrashing.  When he fell, I put my foot on his face and pulled my 
weapon loose, looking quickly about for more targets as I jabbed 
him two or three more times.

	The girl he had been holding was on her knees, choking and 
spitting, and the small woman who had been raped was now at the 
carriage door, talking to someone inside.  I checked the bodies, 
found the man I shot with my pistol still breathing and put him out 
of his misery and then removed a fat purse from the young officer's 
body.  His horse was still in sight, grazing placidly.  The other 
officer, the one whose skull I had cracked open, had only his sword 
that was worth taking since his boots were too small for me.

	I stopped to wipe my blade on one of the dead and reload my 
musket.  The older girl, after rubbing her nose on her fist, came to 
my side and held my arm.  She was lovely and obviously wealthy 
judging both from her dress and her pale skin.  Her long hair 
gleamed with reddish highlights and her eyes were hazel, her lips 
pink and soft.  Her velvet dress had been torn from one rounded 
shoulder and some of her lace hung in ribbons.  My root stirred, 
excited by the fight.  She held up her ruined gown, cupping it to her 
full breast and looked at me.

	"Thank you," she gasped out, her free hand at her throat.

	"Did he hurt you?" I asked.

	She shook her head.  "But our maid is terrified, poor woman.  
You saw what happened to her."  She had disappeared into the 
carriage and was watching from the window, a kerchief at her 
mouth, eyes very large.

	"Who else is in there?" I asked the girl, who seemed to be 
quickly regaining her composure, her chest heaving slower.

	"The baroness, and I'll bet you she is furious, and her sister."  
She nearly smiled, and then let go of my arm to straighten the front 
of her dress and tuck her bulging boobies out of sight.  For a young 
person standing in the midst of five fresh-killed humans, she seemed 
completely at ease.

	"Baroness?" I said.

	"Right," said the girl.  "General ---'s wife," and she told me his 
name but I will not use it since the family has suffered enough 
indignities after choosing to settle on the Hudson when the fighting 
ended.

	I pulled open the carriage door and sitting in the back were 
two very proper matrons, both looking very displeased, and on the 
other side the woman who had been raped, still sniveling into her 
handkerchief.

	From behind me, the girl presented the two women and then 
said, "And Annie, poor thing."

	The older woman, and by far the haughtier, said something in 
German and the girl beside me replied quickly.

	"She wants to know why you struck the major," the girl said.

	"Who?" I asked, puzzled both by the question and the 
calmness of the two women facing me.

	"Him," said the girl, poking with her toe at the body sprawled 
at her feet. "He was an acquaintance, perhaps a friend.  I am not 
sure.  He was traveling with us."

	I closed the door to the carriage, took the girl by the arm and 
led her up to the front of the rig.  "Explain," I said.

	"We were on our way to visit the Baroness's husband when 
we were stopped by these men, these Hessians."  She gestured at 
the bodies  "The Baroness is a Bavarian.  They took our horses and 
our driver despite the Major's best efforts.  He is with Kynphausen, 
he was, on his staff. The soldiers laughed at him and demanded 
women.  The major offered them the maid and me.  They accepted, 
and then you appeared."  She shrugged her shoulders.

	"Now," I asked, still confused, "what are you going to do?"

	"I suppose we will wait for help.  We were expected, and it 
isn't far."

	"No," I said, "I mean you."

	She frowned, but did not answer.

	"Are you his daughter, the general's?" I asked.

	"No, no," she said quickly, suppressing a smile, "his mistress, 
one of them.  He had several."

	I waited, holding her hand and digesting the situation.

	"What choices do I have?" she said quietly. She smiled.  "I'm 
unemployed thanks to you."

	"There is a horse over there.  You could leave with me."

	"And do what?" she asked, freeing her hand.

	"Whatever you want. I can't believe you want to stay with 
those women."

	The maid appeared, red-eyed.  "They want me to fix them 
some food," she said.  "Will you help?"

	"Would you like to leave them and come with me?" I asked the 
sad-faced woman whose cheek had been bruised by the man 
assaulting her pushing her face against the carriage wheel.

	She shook her head and skittered away.

	"Come," I said to the girl, "make a decision.  If more Germans 
are going to be here soon, I must disappear."

	"And you want me to vanish with you?" she asked, giving me 
another tiny smile. "She's indentured; I'm on my own."

	I nodded, and she reached up and kissed my cheek.

	"Yes," she said.  "Let's hurry." She rummaged through the 
burst trunk, found something she was looking for, hooked a locket 
on a chain about her neck, ignoring her gaping dress as she did so, 
and then I helped her up on the dead officer's horse, enjoying the 
feel of her body.  She mounted astride, the back of her skirt up 
between her legs. We avoided the roads for a while and galloped in 
what I hoped was the general direction of my bedraggled army.  
When night fell, I must admit I had no idea where we were.

	I made a very small fire, roasted a hunk of sausage and shared 
it with the girl.  We talked for a bit, sitting across from each other, 
legs folded, backs to small trees.

	"Tell me about the future," she said as it got darker.

	"No more Brits or Germans, no more King or royal nonsense, 
free trade and western land, opportunities to make our own 
mistakes."  I knew I sounded pompous.

	She laughed.  "Yes, yes," she said, "Your General Washington 
and his rag-tag band will defeat the world's greatest army and 
navy.  Shall we take Canada, too?"

	"Why not?" I said, "and Spanish Florida and anyplace else we 
want."

	"Your confidence amazes me." Her gaze was frank, assessing.

	I smiled, feeling not at all as brave as I sounded and trying not 
to think further ahead than my blanket roll and the warm slot 
between her thighs.

	We went off a few steps and relieved ourselves, and then I 
spread my blanket, set aside my belt, pulled off my boots and 
invited the girl to join me.  She raised an eyebrow, turned her back 
to me, fumbled with her dress and removed a small set of stays.  
Then she knelt and gracefully reclined after removing her shoes.  I 
lay beside her, grabbed a corner of my old blanket and rolled over 
so my back was to her and we were both more or less covered.

	"What ho?" she said, turning toward me and conforming her 
smaller body to mine, her hand at my ribs.

	"Eh?" I mumbled.

	"Hardly gallant."

	"Go to sleep, woman," I said.  "They tell me I snore."

	"That should keep the animals away," she whispered, wiggling 
behind me in a manner not conducive to sleep.

	I was quiet, slowing my breathing and trying to ignore her 
warmth and smell.

	"I'm not some simple maid," she said, "I know about men, 
many men."

	"That's nice," I said, seeing the shocked look on the face of the 
man I had bayoneted.  "Go to sleep."

	"You're mean."

	"I'm tired.  I killed a lot of men today.  It's hard work." For 
some reason, I had lost the urge, my pike was limp and my blood 
was calm.  I guess I was telling the truth; it had been a frightening 
day.  In the morning, I promised myself as my eyes closed.

	She shivered.  "Good night," she whispered, and we slept.

	I awoke in the pre-dawn cold, aware of a body behind me 
and, of course, fiercely hard.  I had both the need and the 
opportunity, indeed the invitation from a few hours earlier.  I rolled 
to my back, holding my iron-hard rod to my belly, and found the 
girl lying on her back, face in sweet repose, hands folded beneath 
her rising and falling bosom.  I freed my striving member, rose on 
one elbow and kissed her nose.  Her eyes popped open.

	"By damn," she said, as she blinked at me, "you did not lie.  I 
never heard such snoring."  She stretched and her left hand found 
the fat head of my ram, quivering with anticipation.  "Ah," she said, 
cupping it into her palm and scratching gently with her fingernails 
along my shaft.  The glans filled her hand and then some.  "I 
thought you might be one of those who did not like girls."

	I kissed her lips gently, and she grabbed the back of my head 
with her right hand and kissed me hard, gnawing at my mouth while 
her other hand stroked my hot shaft and then massaged my hugely 
swollen stones.  I knelt up between her wide-spread legs, pulled her 
fancy dress and silken shift up to her waist, massaged her narrow 
cunny with my swollen knob and then sank it into her as she raised 
her legs.  I hooked my arms under her knees, lifting her rump and 
spreading her open. In it went as I gritted my teeth. She inhaled and 
quivered under my thick invader's pressure.  My cock bent and I 
changed the angle of my attack and got my back into it.

	She screamed and bucked as I sank it all the way into her, but 
soon we were thrusting at each other, heaving together, my fists by 
her shoulders and her legs wrapped about my back, both of us 
rocking from side to side as my hips pistoned to and fro.  She was 
very tight and pulsed with need, massaging my tool.  Her climaxes 
seemed to come in series, and I managed to ignore my first, frantic 
pumping into her depths and continue steadily sliding my thick pole 
in and out of her clinging quim.  By damn, it was good.  She 
shuddered and jumped, and I flexed and rammed, both of us 
grunting and gasping as we tried to exhaust ourselves in pleasure.

	When we finally stopped, spent and happy but still tightly 
joined, I pulled her atop me, her velvet gown bunched between us. 
"I don't know your name," I said since that thought crossed my 
mind while my long spear continue to jump like a wild thing and her 
deep tunnel throbbed and quivered.

	"Don't you," she replied, rising on my loins with what was left 
of my worn member still within her, perhaps some six inches deep.  
She squeezed on it, relaxed and then squeezed again, a gentle vise, 
smiling down at me.  "Guess," she said, wriggling in the saddle to 
get more comfortable, frissons of lust shaking us both.  I was sure I 
could not harden again, but I was wrong.  My hands slid up to hold 
her velvet and lace covered breasts as my pike revived.

	"Ann, Betsy, Carol, Dora," I began.

	She laughed, and slid up and down once on my growing spike.

	"Eleanor, Frederika, Gloria," I continued.

	"Fool," she cried, "fool, fool, fool."  She reared up and down 
repeatedly, flexing her strong legs, and swived me until she could do 
no more and sank to my chest, whimpering.

	"Hannah, Helen," I gasped out.  "Are you Helen?"

	"No," she sighed, "Jill.  You almost got there."

	"Jill," I managed to reply.  "Jill."

	She laughed, pushed on my chest and disengaged herself from 
me.  While she disappeared into the brush, I scraped together 
another small fire and then relieved myself.

	"What now?" she asked, holding her hand almost in the 
flames.

	"We move on," I said.  "Hungry I fear."

	By the time I found Foster's company, the sun was setting and 
we were famished.  She spent the night with him and in the next 
week I am pretty sure she laid every man we had and several of the 
officers more than once.  Then she ran off with a boy from the 
Carolinas who was headed for Philadelphia without even a goodbye 
for me. Such is the life of a soldier.
	

	



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