STRIPPING FOR THEIR COUNTRY 

                           by 

                        Joe Doe


TWO PATRIOTS HATCH A DESPERATE PLOT TO DISTRACT THE BRITISH.


 
It was Martha, the merchant's wife, who had originally suggested 
the idea.  The men folk had left to join General Washington's army, 
which was desperately trying to regroup just outside of town.  The 
British were in hot pursuit, and, if they caught Washington before 
he had time to muster his strength and join with the French, his 
army would be destroyed and the rebellion would be crushed.

Martha and Rebecca met at the town hall to discuss their options.   
They agreed that, in order to save their men and their country's 
future, they would have to create some sort of diversion that would 
keep the British in town overnight.
 
Martha was the wife of the richest man in town; Rebecca was the 
minister's chaste and virginal 18-year-old daughter.  As the 
womenfolk of the town's best known leaders, they were aware that 
they would be questioned.  But what could they say that would 
convince a dedicated British commander that he should laze in 
town for the night when total victory was within his grasp?
 
Rebecca swallowed hard when she heard Martha's plan.  It wouldn't 
be easy, but it was the only way.
 
		******************************
 
"You heard me, sir," Martha sneered, her voice dripping with 
contempt.  "You are correct that I know where my husband is.  
Furthermore, I have been privy to the military plans of both 
sides.  But I shan't tell you, sir.  Not if you strung me up 
naked by my thumbs in the town square."
 
"Don't be so bold, Martha," Rebecca chastised, stage whispering 
in her ear.  "I heard that a Loyalist visiting Philadelphia 
challenged General Washington the same way, and he took her up on 
her offer.  After a few hours of the ruffians hooting and hollering 
at her as she dangled naked as you please in the square, she told 
General Washington everything he needed to know."
 
"Goodness, NO!" Martha exclaimed, feigning shock.  "If that were 
true, under the rules of war, the Colonel would be empowered to 
do the same to us as retaliation.  Indeed, since our information 
is so valuable, and since we would undoubtedly break under the 
torture, it would be HIS DUTY to treat us in that abominable way."
 
Rebecca crossed her arms over her bosom, covering her exposed skin. 
"You couldn't do that that to ME," she said to the British officer.  
"I am the minister's daughter, just turned 18, and respected by all 
for my virtue and chastity."  
 
Rebecca moved forward so that she was standing just a few feet away 
from the fat old colonel, who was loosening his neck-cloth as the 
the two gorgeous women before him discussed their cruel fate.  
"The thought of me...so young...so vulnerable...so innocent...so 
defenseless...the thought of someone like ME being stripped down 
naked for the vulgar inspection of the town ruffians is simply 
unspeakable!"
 
"It is SHOCKING!" Martha agreed.  "It is one thing to strip down a 
prostitute, or even a serving girl, in the town square to teach her 
a lesson.  But we are refined and delicate ladies of quality.  Can 
you imagine me, the wealthiest woman in town, stripped down like a 
common whore in the village square in front of penniless vagabonds 
and common laborers?"
 
"And Rebecca is the minister's daughter, known throughout the 
town for her modesty," Martha added.  "Can you imagine her, 
dangling naked from the gibbet, her toes barely brushing the 
ground, while the rough and tumble lads of the village loudly 
assessed her as if she were a slave girl on the block?  It is 
shame itself to imagine a lovely, innocent girl displayed in 
such a vulgar way."
 
Rebecca moved closer, until she was whispering her description 
softly in the colonel's ear.  "I mean, imagine me...swinging back 
and forth in the town square...absolutely...completely...utterly 
naked.  I'd have no way to cover myself, no way to maintain even 
a tiny vestige of my modesty.  Every inch of my soft, luscious, 
naked flesh would be completely exposed to the rude gaze of the 
crowd."
 
Martha whispered in the colonel's other ear, "And the worst 
part would be that you and your officers, Colonel, would 
have a front row seat.  Of course, you would need to stay 
in town tonight...."
 
		******************************
 
"Wake up, my lady!" Nan, the maid, said in a singsong voice.  "The 
men are already gathering in the square, and we don't want to keep 
them waiting."
 
Rebecca opened her eyes with a start.  She had barely slept a 
wink all night, and then, when she finally did doze off, her 
little snip of a servant girl woke her as if she were going to 
a party.  Rebecca frowned.  Although they were just a few miles 
from the harbor, today would be no tea party.
 
On most days, her maid left the room before she slipped off her 
white night-shirt and stepped into the tub of warm water, but 
today the maid stood there beside the tub, smiling.  Rebecca was 
about to tell the grinning servant to leave, but then decided 
not to make an issue of it.  After all, in a few hours her 
dignity would undergo a far worse assault than this.
 
As soon as she pulled the long garment up over her head, Nan 
immediately stepped in front of her and prevented her from 
getting into the tub.  Rebecca tried to cover herself with the 
garment, but Nan quickly snatched it from her and folded it over 
her arm.  
 
The maid stood in front of Rebecca and held Rebecca's hands over 
her head, and then turned her hand as if ordering Rebecca to turn.  
Rebecca wasn't sure why she was doing it, but she turned slowly, 
listening to a humiliating appraisal.
 
"My-oh-MY!" Nan exclaimed.  "You ARE a lovely thing.  So soft...so 
young...so lithe.  Curvy in all the right places, with pert little 
titties and the cutest little backside I've ever seen.  Not a mark 
or blemish on you...all bright and fresh and ready for some lucky 
man's bed.  Soft red curls cascading around your neck and across 
your bare shoulders.  All topped off with a soft downy red fleece 
between your milky white thighs, soft and fine as fox fur.  Why, I 
can even see those pouty little lips right through your furry red 
patch.  Yes, the men of the town don't know what they're missing."  

Nan paused and smiled.  "But they soon will," she said, giggling in 
triumph.
 
Rebecca's eyes flew open as her maid gave her a sharp SLAP! across 
her bare bottom cheeks.  "Now, into the tub with you, my fine lady.  
I want you to scrub every inch of yourself baby fresh.  Remember, 
there will be prying eyes looking everywhere today," she said merrily 
as Rebecca sank down into the tub.  
 
The maid playfully dropped a bar of soap into the tub before 
turning around and walking out the door.
 
Rebecca was shocked by her serving girl's loutish behavior.  
Obviously Nan felt that Rebecca's predicament put her at a 
disadvantage, and had decided to press her luck.  Rebecca 
made a mental note to deal with the girl as soon as her 
father returned.
 
When Rebecca finished soaking, she was surprised to find that her 
maid had not left her clothes on the dressing table next to the 
tub.  Furthermore, the door to her dressing room was locked, which 
meant the only exit was the stairwell that led to the kitchen.  
 
How humiliating!  Vowing to give her maid a good tongue-lashing, 
Rebecca carefully wrapped herself in the towel and gingerly made 
her way down the stairs.  There was no one in the kitchen, but 
she thought she heard voices in the parlor.
 
She stuck her head into the parlor to see who was there.  She was 
surprised to feel her maid's hand grasp her wrist and drag her 
towards a chair.
 
"Rebecca!" Lady Snobbé said, her voice dripping with false 
neighborliness.  "How lovely to see you."
 
"How nice to see...so much of you!" Lady Catty added.
 
"Well, we'll all be seeing quite a bit more of her, soon enough," 
Lady Snobbé added, merrily.
 
Rebecca was surprised to find herself seated in her elegant parlor 
entertaining two of the town's leading citizens, Lady Evangeline 
Snobbé and Lady Catherine Catty.  The three women knew and 
disliked each other, which made it all the more absurd for the 
two of them to be paying Rebecca an unannounced social call on 
the most humiliating day of her life.

But the two wretched women sat there in her parlor sipping tea as 
if it were the most normal thing in the world.  Rebecca, naked 
except for her towel, tried to think of how she could get past 
her maid, who was blocking the doorway that led back to her 
bedroom.
 
"We just wanted to come by and offer you our moral support, dear," 
Lady Snobbé said.  "I can't say that I'm a fan of the rebellion, 
but what the troops are going to do to you is simply unspeakable.  
Imagine having to strip BARE naked in front of EVERYONE!  I mean, 
they'll see EVERYTHING!"
 
"And don't think everyone doesn't know it either," Lady Catty said. 
"I broke the news to almost a dozen people myself, and I know for a 
fact that the they told all of their friends.  Why the whole town 
will be there."
 
"Good news...I mean, bad news, of course...bad news travels fast," 
Lady Snobbé added, brightly.
 
"Why, I hear that they are making bets in the tavern about whether 
red is your natural hair color," Lady Catty tittered.
 
"It IS my natural color," Rebecca protested.
 
"No need to make a fuss dear," Lady Catty smirked.  "You'll be able 
to prove your point soon enough...to everyone."  She chuckled 
merrily.
 
"I have more good news for you, Rebecca," Lady Snobbé said.  "It's 
been almost two years since you convinced the town council to ban 
the bare bottom whippings of female criminals in the square.  But, 
as you know, Magistrate Canewell is still lobbying the council to 
repeal that decision."
 
"The whippings were indecent!" Rebecca snorted.  "Those poor women 
were stripped naked and spanked more for entertainment than for 
justice."
 
"Quite so," Lady Snobbé replied.  "That's why I knew you be pleased 
that Magistrate Canewell has agreed to permanently drop his 
campaign to resume the whippings, in exchange for a small favor."
 
"What favor?" Rebecca asked, suspiciously.
 
"Lady Catty and I suggested that a good spanking might be just the 
thing to loosen your tongues while you two are dangling in the square," 
Lady Snobbé said happily.  "They all readily agreed, and Magistrate 
Canewell agreed to drop his campaign to resume public whippings, 
provided that he gets to administer your punishment."
 
"I'm going to be whipped NAKED?"  Rebecca was aghast.  "In the town 
square?  By that old letch, Canewell?"
 
"Exactly my dear," Lady Catty replied.  "You put it so well.  
Magistrate Canewell told me himself that he would gladly give 
up whipping if he could teach 'that busybody minister's daughter 
and her rich, pampered friend not to interfere in MY business!'  
He's quite enthusiastic about helping out."
 
"You can't let him touch me!" Rebecca shrieked.  "You have to help 
me escape!"
 
"Time to go!" Lady Catty said, grabbing Rebecca by the arm.  "We 
don't want to keep the people waiting."
 
Lady Catty and Lady Snobbé called the servant girl over, and the 
three women easily tied Rebecca's hands behind her back.  Then 
they marched her, still dressed in just her bath towel, out the 
front door.
 
The courtyard of the rectory was filled with grinning bystanders.  
Rebecca stood humbly on the porch clad in nothing but a flimsy 
towel, while Lady Catty made her announcement.
 
"Good people of the town," Lady Catty said.  "I present to you, 
Rebecca, the minister's daughter!"
 
She reached over and roughly tore off the towel, as if she were 
unveiling a statue.  The crowd erupted in whistles and applause 
as Rebecca's naked form came into view.
 
"She's a natural redhead sure enough," one man exclaimed.  "I win 
the bet!"
 
"Her face is as red as her hair," another man said.
 
"She doesn't look so high and mighty now, does she?" one old crone 
said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
 
"She won't look so fancy dancing under the switch either," another 
woman added.  "Magistrate Canewell is going to teach her a lesson 
in manners, from what I hear."
 
"Mistress Rebecca is going to dance a vigorous jig once Canewell 
starts laying the stripes across her pampered, spoiled bottom," 
the old crone said, gleefully.  "Imagine!  The minister's daughter 
wiggling her bare arse and kicking her legs in front of every man 
in town!"
 
Rebecca tried to crouch to cover her nakedness, but Lady Snobbé 
kept her hand on the back of her neck as she marched her to her 
carriage.  Rebecca made a move to get inside, but Lady Snobbé 
SMACKED! her bottom.
 
"This carriage is reserved for respectable, DECENT women," Lady 
Snobbé said, huffily.  "Strumpets follow behind!"
 
Rebecca blushed crimson as a rope was placed around her neck and 
the end tied to the rear of Lady Snobbé's carriage.  
 
The minister's daughter, a chaste and highly respected woman, would 
spend the next thirty minutes trotting naked behind her rival's 
carriage, naked as a jaybird, while the vulgar insults of the crowd 
burned in her ears.  
 
		******************************
 
Martha, the merchant's wife, was not having a better day.  Her 
servants had tied her hands behind her back and then mounted the 
naked woman on the back of Fancy, an enormous black filly her 
husband rode at competition.

Rather than saddle the horse properly, they had simply thrown a 
woolen blanket over the horse's back and then put the slender 
Martha astride the horse.  The filly could carry her weight easily, 
but, without her hands or stirrups, Martha had to balance carefully 
and shift her weight as she slowly clip-clopped down the uneven 
country roads and rough cobblestone streets.  
 
The result of all of this friction was that Martha's bare pussy was 
rubbing directly against the coarse blanket.  The combination of 
the constant physical stimulation and the bizarre humiliation of 
having to ride naked in front of her neighbors caused Martha to 
leave a noticeable stain on the blanket.  
 
The stain from her juices naturally caused more titters, which 
embarrassed Martha even more, which led to more juice.  
 
The servants made a point of riding Martha right past THE HORNY 
GOAT, a small tavern owned by her husband's arch rival, Benedict 
Bluster.  Benedict was naturally delighted to see the wife of his 
sworn enemy in such a humbling and degrading situation, and 
motioned for her caravan to stop.
 
"Well this is quite a sight," Benedict said, with a laugh.  "It 
certainly brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, riding 
bareback."
 
"That it does, sir," the stable boy guffawed.  
 
"That's a fine animal you have there," Benedict said.  Of course 
he was ostensibly talking about the beautiful horse, but all the 
while his eyes were roving up and down Martha's lithe, naked body.
 
"That she is, sir," the 19-year-old ostler agreed.  "A bit 
spirited, perhaps, but lovely to look at."
 
"A dose of the whip will tame her soon enough," Benedict replied, 
eyeing Martha's butt lasciviously.  
 
Martha felt her bottom cheeks tighten under the implicit threat as 
Benedict SWISHED! his riding crop through the air.  "Yes, I'm sure 
that I could make this little mustang a docile mare, once I put the 
crop and spurs to her."  He paused and smiled.  "I actually find 
breaking a spirited animal is half the fun."
 
"I couldn't agree more, sir," the stable boy said.  
 
"She certainly isn't too thick around the middle," Benedict said 
with a chuckle.  
 
Benedict ran his crop softly up the horse's side, so it almost 
touched Martha's long bare leg.  "And she has a lovely flank," 
he added.  
 
"And I do like a long beautiful mane," he added, eyeing Martha's 
long blonde hair, which had cascaded loosely down her back.  He 
lifted the crop and ran it down the horses back, stopping less 
than an inch away from Martha's wet, blonde pussy.  "I'm glad to 
see that the hair color is the same...all over," he said, leering 
up at her.  
 
He tapped his crop against the wet spot on the blanket a few inches 
from Martha's shamefully exposed sex.  "And I see that this randy 
mare is in heat and ready to be mounted."  He gave a vulgar laugh.  
 
Martha ground her teeth in helpless frustration as the tip of the 
crop traced the wet spot.  She had never been so humiliated in her 
life....
 
"I think she'd bring a fine price on the auction block," Benedict 
said, with a smile.  "Of course, in the type of market I have in 
mind, she wouldn't have a blanket to hide under."
 
"You'd auction her...naked?" the stable boy said.  You could tell 
that he was shocked at the thought, but not displeased.
 
"Bare naked!" Benedict replied, happily.  "Remember, once she was 
on the block, she'd be just so much horseflesh, and the buyers 
would have every right to see what they were paying for.  A good 
auctioneer would put her through her paces for the buyers -- make 
her trot, and strut, and whinny, and gallop.  And he would always 
have the crop to fall back on if she bolted.  Yes, by the time the 
auction was over, there wouldn't be one inch of her that wasn't 
familiar to the buyers."
 
He considered the situation.  "Of course, it is difficult to 
evaluate a spirited filly without mounting her," he said, slyly.  
"Until you've spent some time bouncing up and down in the saddle, 
as it were, it's hard to know what she'll feel like when she's 
between your legs."
 
"I know what you mean, sir," the boy replied.  "I've been wanting 
to take this one out for a ride all morning myself."  He paused.  
"Of course, it is customary to remit a small fee to the owner and 
the stable boy for the privilege of riding a fine animal like 
this," he noted, casually.  "If you agree to the fee I requested 
earlier, then I might just go wait in the tavern while you take her 
out for a vigorous exercise session."
 
"DONE!" Benedict said, cheerfully dropping a bag of coins into the 
stable boy's greedy palm.  "Why don't you wait in my tavern, my 
good man?  Drinks are on the house!"
 
Martha watched in horror as her servant pocketed his thirty pieces 
of silver and skipped off towards the tavern.  Benedict said 
nothing, but quickly led Martha through the barn door next to 
the tavern, where she was met with a sickening surprise.  
 
In the barn was every man her husband had ever bested at cards, 
finance, or romance.  Her husband was a wealthy and successful 
merchant, and since it is impossible to make a dollar without 
taking it from someone else, he had made a lot of enemies over 
the years.

"And now, young lady, it's time to bring you off your high horse," 
Benedict said.  "You will be given many new mounts today, my fine 
lady, and, as you can see, there are many young stallions here who 
have paid good money to give you a vigorous ride."
 
The men carefully eased Martha off her horse, an operation that 
regrettably forced them to fondle her lovely legs and delectable 
bottom.  "It was the HORSE!" she shouted.  "You paid to mount THE 
HORSE!  My husband would never agree to let you MOUNT ME!"
 
"Really?" Benedict asked, innocently.  "If you are right, then it 
is an honest mistake on my part.  Certainly a disgusting slut 
riding naked through the town has no complaint if decent gentlemen 
misread her intentions."
 
Martha was soon pushed into a stall.  The fine gentlemen of the 
town delighted in treating the snobbish woman like a whorish 
milkmaid caught naked in the barn, and she could refuse them 
nothing.  Each man had paid dearly for his roll in the hay with 
the fine lady, but it was agreed that Martha's husband had finally 
given the men of the town their money's worth.
 
		******************************
 
By the time Rebecca reached the town square, Martha was already 
waiting for her, stark naked and standing on tip toe.  Her delicate 
wrists were tied with coarse rope, and she was swinging from the 
gibbet.  
 
Martha's long blonde hair had been pinned up to ensure that it 
didn't obstruct the view of her luscious breasts.  Her nipples 
were hard and stiff in the morning breeze, a fact not lost on 
the louts and the simpletons in the front row who were loudly 
assessing her charms.
 
Martha's crotch had been shaved bare, and the lips of her sex were 
clearly visible to the crowd.  But the worst part was that she 
was shamefully excited, and her wet sex glistened in the morning 
sunshine.  Coarse comments about her "pouty pussy" burned in her 
ears as she helplessly swung before the crowd.  The wetness was 
literally running down the insides of her thighs, but she was 
helpless to cover herself or drown out the comments of the lustful 
men or the shrewish women who openly ogled her as she swung in the 
breeze.
 
Benedict had refused to allow her to wash herself after her 
performance in the barn and had marched her through the town 
coated in sweat, hay, and sperm.  Dried sperm clung to her lips, 
her thighs, and even the cheeks of her bare backside.  The richest 
woman in town looked like a tuppenny whore.
 
When Rebecca was led up the steps of the platform, the crowd burst 
into lusty applause.  They chatted, laughed, and tittered as the 
beautiful woman was strung up for one and all to see.  
 
As her feet left the ground, she realized that she now had the best 
vantage point in the city.  Although this meant that everyone could 
see her, it also allowed her to see the rebel troops massing in the 
distance, preparing to fight.  
 
Rebecca smiled.  The French had arrived.  Soon the revolution would 
be won.
 
Her smile faded as she felt a small tapping on her bare backside 
and looked over her shoulder.  Behind her she saw the face of 
Magistrate Canewell, grinning at her as he carefully measured 
out a stroke of the hickory stick against her bare bottom.  
 
Mr. Canewell adjusted himself slightly and then tapped her bottom 
again, causing Rebecca's cheeks to clench in anticipation and 
humiliation.  
 
"I'll wager that they never mention this story in the history 
books," she thought, as Mr. Canewell lifted his stick high 
into the air....



Edited by C. Lakewood