Message-ID: <48194asstr$1086952205@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <oldbill2@comcast.net> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com From: oldbill2@comcast.net X-Original-Message-ID: <061020041212.5857.40C850380003BCBB000016E12200761438CD0404070D0B0401@comcast.net> X-Authenticated-Sender: b2xkYmlsbDJAY29tY2FzdC5uZXQ= X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 10 Jun 2004 12:12:40 +0000 Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 075 training (MF hist) Lines: 241 Date: Fri, 11 Jun 2004 07:10:05 -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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/48194> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, IceAltar <1st attachment, "Rebel 075 training.txt" begin> Rebel 075 (Old Bill) (MF hist) Training "They evidently call it the pen," the old lady said. "And they say a woman is in charge although I find that hard to believe." I waited, mystified. "You haven't heard about this?" the madam asked. I shook my head, knowing it would be made clear. "It's where they take the woman, patriot women, who refuse to cooperate with them," she said. "Cooperate?" I asked. "Cohabitate," she said, sniffing and looking very displeased. "Bend." "Oh," I said brightly. "So go find out what in the world is going on and put a stop to it." "Yes'm," I said, tugging my forelock. The pen itself was an enclosure built for horses or cattle, but the whole place was a decent-sized farm with a sturdy barn and a two-chimnied house. I skulked about getting the lay of the land and was well up in a tree when the women appeared, perhaps a dozen of them in various stages of undress and rags, most barefoot, all bareheaded. They walked around the pen whose walls had been built up to ten feet in height with the rails much too close together to allow escape for anything bigger than a rabbit. The women moved to the shady side, and two men came out from the barn, two big men in grenadiers' britches, galluses and white shirts. They grabbed one women, seemingly by chance and took her to a post planted in the center of the enclosure, tied her hands up to a iron ring, dropped their codpieces open and proceeded to assault her, sometimes both at once but usually one after the other, for the next half-hour or so, joking with each other as they did. Then they left and the other women untied the raped girl and comforted her. A gong sounded and they all disappeared back into the barn. I climbed down from my tree, ate something from my meager rations and waited for dark. As the sun began set, the women reappeared in the pen along with a few soldiers, Redcoats, and a man wearing black who looked to be a German from his uniform. A woman, I could not tell if it was the same one from noontime, was tied to the post, was stripped to the waist and received a half-dozen lashes administered by the man in black. I could hear them strike her. Then everyone went back inside, leaving her there. When things got quiet, I could still hear her sob. About midnight, when the moon was down, I climbed the wall of the pen, roused the woman, untied her, put her over my shoulder and climbed out of the pen. Back near my hobbled horse, I shared my food and canteen with her. She wore a single iron manacle on one ankle and just a skirt. Even her round breasts showed lash marks. She never asked who I was, but told me her name was Ina W-- and that her family was one of divided loyalties. "My uncle did this," she said. "He put me here." "What's going on?" I asked. "They are training us, breaking us," she said. We could see each other in starlight. "We are being taught to serve our masters, the British and the Tories, to do as we are commanded." "Serve?" I asked. She nodded. "You understand; do whatever we are told." "Mostly young women in there?" I asked. She nodded again. "Only the stubborn cases come here." "How many?" "Not sure, ten or twelve." "And all of you have been?" I hesitated. "Oh yes," she said. "One poor girl was a virgin. I think every man in the detachment had her the first day she was here." "How many soldiers?" "I don't know. It varies. Right now it's part of a grenadier regiment, a company I suppose, perhaps a score of men." "And who is in charge?" "Ah," she said with a sigh. "Lady Martindale she calls herself. I don't know who she is, really, but she is cold and mean, cruel, heartless, vulgar." From the pen came a cry and then some lamps appeared in the dark. Men were scurrying about. We could see the shadows moving rapidly. The girl pressed against me and I put my arm about her. "How are they guarded?" I asked. "They hardly bother," she whispered as two windows in the farmhouse lit up. "They chain us up at night, except for the ones the officers haul off to their beds." Men were moving out from the barn in pairs, one holding a lamp high while the other carried a musket, bayonet tipped. They came toward the treeline steadily and quietly. I gave the girl my jacket to cover her whiteness. As a pair approached the place where we lay hidden, I put my finger to my lips and slipped my big knife into my fist. I took down the gunman first with a hand over his mouth and my blade right up through his body, under his short ribs. When he dropped his musket, the man with the lamp whirled. I drove him back to a tree and opened his gut, taking his lamp from his hand before he could drop it. I heard the girl retch behind me as I disemboweled the soldier. I shuttered the lamp and we watched the search for another hour. When they gave up and the house was dark again, I said, "Let's go fetch them." She nodded dumbly, eyes big and bright. We walked carefully down the hillside and entered the barn unnoticed. She led me to the stall when the women huddled together like cats. She roused one in the sliver of light from our borrowed lantern and found that all but one young woman was present. I pried the chain loose from the wall and freed them as quietly as I could. There was nothing I could do about the leg manacles they wore. We were about to leave when the barn door slid open and a pair of big grenadiers came in, one with a lantern. "Hell'va toime to wan' a count," one said. "Bastids, bluddy bastids," said the other. I clubbed him down, breaking his nose and jaw with the butt of my musket and then bayoneted the other before he could even squawk. I hoped no one from outside saw his lantern drop. I killed the first man to stop his blubbering, stripped off his coat and then asked some questions about the house and the soldiers. The missing girl, I found, had been dragooned as a visiting captain's bedwarmer, while most of the soldiers slept on the third floor in a common room. The mistress of the place occupied the large front bedroom and sitting room. "Can you find my horse?" I asked Ina, huddled in my coat. She nodded. "Lead them there and then discuss what we do next. Where shall we go? Do we stick together or scatter?" She nodded again. "Go," I said. "I won't be long." The missing girl, I was told, was called Jo and she had dark hair. I entered the house quietly, listened for snoring and found the officer's room on the first try. The girl had been bound to a chair with a cord about her neck while the rotund Englishman snored away on his back, never to wake. I smiled at her, cut her free, and then dispatched the Redcoat with a backhand slice across his throat. He sprayed blood like a fountain. The girl, wearing only a shift, led me to the door of the woman who ran this establishment. I used my big blade to pry the door open and found the lady alone in her big bed. I balled up a stocking, stuffed it in her open mouth and roused her with my knife at her throat. I gagged her tightly with a ruffle from her bed and then hurried her down the hall, barefoot and squirming in her long nightgown, one arm bent up in the middle of her back. Five minutes later, we were deep in the woods. It looked to me as if all the young women were still there. "We can't stay here," I told them as I tied the woman's wrists behind her. "We don't know where we are," one said. "It's dangerous for us to go home," said another. I explained where we were and how far certain well-known places were. Several said they had relatives they trusted, and I urged them to leave at once and to stay off the roads. After a while three remained, Ina and two sisters about her age, plus my furious prisoner, of course. As the sky got lighter, we began our trek northward, toward the Madam's large home. Within an hour, we had a problem. Ahead of us, blocking the road, was a large group of German soldiers. We were in a hilly area and had to either back up a mile or more or find a way around the roadblock. Then my brain worked. I untied my prisoner, told her what I thought of her and her kind and then pushed her out into the road. She saw the Germans at once and went running toward them, waving her arms and yelling. I am not really proud of what happened next, but while her allies used her body on one side of the road, my little group crept by on the other. The woman's screams were shrill. We could hear her long after we had topped the hill. We reached the Madam's fine home by sunset, hungry and bedraggled. We were welcomed warmly, fed and sent off to bed. Ina came to mine. "I'm much too tired," I told her as she stood naked before me. "Liar," she said quietly after glancing at my groin. She was right. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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