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From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 068 Pris (MF hist)
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Date: Thu,  3 Jun 2004 17:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 068.txt" begin>

Rebel 068 (Old Bill) (MF hist)

Pris

"This delicate morsel," said the Madam, clucking the luscious 
girl under the chin, "wants to go home for a visit, and since she has 
been so good and worked so hard, I am giving her a fortnight free.  
You take her home and bring her back and in between, try to be 
useful."

	"Yes'm," I said, mentally undressing the girl, one I had seen 
before but never met or swived.

	"They call her Pris, the girls do," the old lady said.  "Priscilla 
I'm sure would be more proper.  Get along.  She's all packed and 
ready to go."

	So using the Madam's light rig, we set out, our hips touching 
on the driver's seat and her boobs bouncing gently.  I sneaked in 
occasional glances at her nearly bare breasts when her knitted shawl 
fell open; they were beauts, and I wanted to lie between them as 
quickly as possible.  We chatted about nothings, discussed the cool 
weather, and enjoyed the day and each other's company.

	We approached her home, a large farm on an open hillside at 
dusk, and we both could see as we rounded the curve that 
something very bad had happened.  The big barn and the main 
house were little but blackened sticks and two tall chimneys.  A row 
of outbuildings stood, but their doors lay open and unhinged.

	We went down the lane silently, fearing what we might find.  
No one was about.  She and I poked about in the ashes, noted that 
every outbuilding had been looted and then clung to each other as 
the moon rose. She sniffed but did not cry.

	"Where would they have gone?" I asked.

	"My uncle, my father's brother lives on the other side of the 
hill, maybe five miles as the crow flies." She wiped at her eyes.

	I got some straw from the barn and then my blanket roll from 
the carriage and laid it out in what had evidently been a tool shed.  
We sat together on the step, lonely and hungry.

	"Can't have been too long ago," I said. " Doesn't look like its 
been rained on."

	She nodded.  "At least we didn't find any bodies."

	I put my arm about her shoulders and she put her head on my 
chest.

	"We'll go to your Uncle's in the morning.  I'll take care of the 
horse.  You get ready for bed." I  kissed her cheek in a brotherly 
manner.

	When I returned after feeding and hobbling the horse and 
using the privy, the only structure left whole, she lay curled up in my 
blanket, her eyes glowing in the moonlight.  I crouched down beside 
her.

	"They told me," she said, "the girls did, about you.	

	I smiled and patted her raised shoulder.  "I'll sleep in the back 
of the wagon."

	"No," she said, "no, don't, I'm scared; this is so awful, 
everything gone."  She sniffed.  "And we workd so hard."

	"All right," I said, "but no promises. You're too damned 
pretty."

	"You would not believe what they say about you," she said 
quietly as I got out of my boots and laid my heavy belt aside.  I crept 
in behind her, conforming my body to hers spoon fashion, my arms 
wherever I could put them which eventually brought my big hand to 
her round breast with its hard nipple.

	"Um," she said, "this will not work.  I can't sleep this way.  
Turn over."

	I did and she snuggled in behind me.

	"That's better," she said, taking a deep breath.  "But I must 
find out."  Her hand came to my waist, undid the buttons and rolled 
back my foreflap.  Out flopped my member, slightly engorged from 
all this female contact.  She touched it and then held it.  "That's not 
so bad," she sighed.  "They were telling awful lies."

	"Go to sleep," I said, "and leave the poor thing alone."

	But she would not.  She stroked the warm root and it began 
to swell and lengthen.  There was nothing I could do about that and 
besides, it felt good, very soothing as her small hand moved up and 
down the hard shaft and soft skin.

	"Maybe they weren't," she said after a bit.  "I can't get my 
hand around it any more."  She sat up, shrugging the blanket over 
her shoulders and brought her other hand into play.  Now she 
really went after it, bending down and using both hands, harder 
and harder, until I had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming.

	"Do it," she gasped, "do it and we can both relax."  She 
stroked with one hand and grasped my swollen sack of stones with 
the other, and I felt the rampaging ram stiffen and then I shot out 
my load of jism, spurting ropes of thick goo onto the straw.  I 
gasped and she marveled.  "I can't believe it, look at it!"  The stuff 
seemed to glow in the dim moonlight.  She bent and kissed my ear, 
tucked my softening tool away and snuggled down.  We slept.

	I awoke fiercely hard, but since she had jerked me to 
ejaculation the evening before and showed no interest in making the 
beast with two backs, I struggled out, used the old privy and beat 
the thing down.

	We breakfasted on water and promises and headed 
westward.  The five miles as the crow flies was more like fifteen by 
roadways through the hills.  The sun was high when we approached 
her uncle's place.

	"Wait," she said as we neared a row of trees.  "Look at all 
those horses."

	She was right, and I turned away and we hurried up into the 
woods, pulling off at a woodlot and letting the horse rest and eat 
which reminded us of how hungry we were.  We moved down the 
hillside to where we could see the farm and found the place infested 
with Redcoats.  It looked like a whole company of cavalrymen and 
they appeared to be getting ready to go somewhere, striking tents 
and kicking out fires.

	We crouched together and tried to convince her that 
everything would be all right.  Then a tongue of flame licked up 
from the barn.  We moved down farther, as close as we could get 
and the line of mounted men moved off, heading northward, 
toward our retreating army I suppose.

	Once they were out of sight, we ran for the house and found 
her uncle, her father and a few women bound to chairs.  We freed 
them and then did our best to fight the fire, saving most of the 
barn's heavy beams but losing many of the tools and tack.

	When we could talk to the people, we discovered that the 
British had chased off the hired hands and servants, threatening to 
sell them all into slavery, and had taken Pris's mother and two of her 
female cousins and sent them into the city after abusing them 
frightfully for two days.

	"Did they leave just now?" I asked, "the women I mean."

	"Yes, yes," the man said, "but you probably could not see 
them from where you were."

	The cavalrymen had taken all the horses so I set out in pursuit 
in the madam's rig with Pris beside me, my musket across her lap.  I 
could not dissuade her from coming along. She looked very 
determined.

	We caught up with their carriage at the first tavern on the 
road.  I was not surprised.  We found Pris's mother, her wrists tied 
behind her in the stolen rig and she told us where the others were.  
In the stable a British sergeant and another Redcoat were busily 
raping the two girls, taking them from the back after forcing them to 
their knees in the straw and dung.  The poor girls still had their 
hands tied behind them when we helped them up and cut them 
loose.  Pris and her mother comforted them as best they could, 
pulling them away from the two sprawled corpses of their attackers.  
I had cut one's head nearly free of his body and disemboweled the 
other.  He was still twitching with coils of odd colors beneath his 
steaming body.

	 We rode back to the house very quietly, the women in each 
other's arms, my heart beat slowly returning to normal.

	After two days with her kinfolk, Pris was ready to go back to 
the city and her self-imposed task of winning our independence with 
her lovely body.  We stopped at a different tavern, half-way to our 
destination, ate a good meal, talked about what had happened and 
about her family's plans for the future and then, without discussing 
it for a minute, went up to bed, hand in hand.

	Once the door was closed, she came in my arms and nearly 
collapsed.  "Oh god," she sobbed, "when I saw what they were 
doing to the girls, I couldn't believe it.  They were beasts.  That's 
never happened to me."

	I patted her and held her.

	"Come, come," she sighed, "make love to me; make me 
forget."

	I did and we did.

	In the gray of morning we faced each other, noses nearly 
touching, my prong extended between us like a log bridge, one of 
her hands gripping it and its huge head just barely between her 
quivering nether lips.

	"I don't  remember which girl told me never to bed you in the 
morning, might have been Janey."  She kissed me and let me slip 
another inch or two deeper, squeezing hard.

	"Is that all you women ever talk about?" I asked, returning 
her kiss gently.

	"Ohh," she cried, shuddering and closing her eyes, "it's so big.  
I can't believe it.  Slowly, oh lord, slowly!"

	"And will you tell them how you pumped the poor thing to 
painful death, milked it dry?" I eased it in, smiling down at her.

	She laughed and arched as another inch or so sank up into her.  
Her hand was now firmly held between our striving bodies as my 
gristly tube slid back and forth beneath the skin, four or five inches 
in and out despite her grip.

	"Oh please, please, please," she cried, taking her hand away, 
rolling me to my back, and clamping her knees into my lower ribs as 
I sank to the hilt in her throbbing grasp.  "Please, please, please," she 
sobbed as she began ramming herself up and down on my huge 
pole.  I usually lasted a long time in that position.

	I held her hips, helping rear and impale herself, and licked at 
her startled nipples when I could reach them.  She ground herself 
against me and came repeatedly before slumping down on my over-
heated body, sated and moaning happily.

	I rolled her over, withdrew until I barely in her and then 
began a long series of full-length strokes, accelerating until no man 
could have counted them.  Then I climaxed, exploded within her, 
jolting us both.

	I withdrew and flopped beside her limp form, my huge pike 
lying dormant on my belly.  After we both got our breath, she said, 
"I'm hungry."

	I crawled atop her until I straddled her chest, my knees in her 
arm pits and them I fed her my limp prod.  It was still pretty big but 
had all the starch taken out of it.  In a very few minutes of deep and 
firm suctioning, she had it growing and firming.  Soon she had to 
release it since it was much too big for her mouth.  I eased back, let it 
slide between her luscious breasts for a while and then retreated still 
further and lifted her hips to enter her again.  Now she was far 
from tight and offered almost no resistance despite the fact that her 
legs were inside mine.

	Once more I rolled us over, and she wiggled herself 
comfortable, pushed down on my chest, and rogered me thoroughly 
and happily until we both were exhausted.

	Then we both went back to the war.


<1st attachment end>


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