("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Sordid Affairs by Realoldbill (no address provided) *** A rebel comes to the aid of a damsel in very great distress. And to her mother's and sister's as well. (MFff, v, 1st) *** "I'm cold," the girl said clearly from the other side of our small fire. She was lying close to the ring of stones and making herself very small. "Can't I come over there?" "If you must," I said, pulling my blanket loose. She crawled to me with her old quilt about her shoulders and a victorious smile on her lovely face. She tossed her hair aside and cuddled at my back. We got the covers tucked in, and I said, "Now sleep." "Um," she said, nuzzling my spine. Her lean arm snaked over my ribs and her hand slid down my belly. I grabbed it and pushed it behind me. "You're mean," she said, pouting I was sure. "Sleep, girl," I said. She was only fifteen or so and a virgin I was sure. She wiggled and her hand crept over my hip and went directly to my flaccid member. I had opened my waist to get comfortable so it was not very hard to find. "Oh," she said behind me, and she stroked my swelling prick gently. "I've held boys' things sometimes, but..." She stopped and sniffed as my prod got harder. "It's hot. And it's awful big." "Why don't you leave it alone and go to sleep," I said, pulling her hand away from my quivering manhood. "All right," she said. "I wouldn't want that thing in me." "Good. Sleep," I said again. "But wait until you meet my sister." I pretended to be asleep. "She really needs you, poor girl." I faked some snoring. "She's a widow," the girl said, pushing her apple-hard little breasts against my back. "And she's only nineteen." "Go to sleep," I insisted, reaching back to pat her flank. Encouraged, her hand snaked back to my prod and then down to fondle my ballocks. "Lord," she sighed, "they're big as goose eggs." That was the last I remembered until the morning when I managed to get out of the blankets and creep off into the woods to relieve myself and take the starch out of my raging erection, smacking it down with some pleasure. I was tempted to beat the thing against a tree, but it finally relaxed, and I put it away and went back to the sleeping girl, built up the fire a bit and roused her. She sat up and yawned, as pretty a sight as you can imagine, stimulating my foul prick to several dry spasms. I fried a couple of pieces of meat in the flames and gave her one. We were soon back on the road and by the time the sun was high, at her home. She jumped from the light carriage and ran into the house, leaving me to see to the horses and chattels. Her sister, dressed all in black, was also a beauty, but a sad-faced one. "You've come at a terrible time," she said, holding my hand and looking deeply into my eyes. "I'm sorry," I said. 'Oh, it's not me; I'm used to the idea of James being dead now, it's our mother." She sniffed and her sister looked surprised. "She married him," the young woman said to her younger sister. "Just as we feared." "I can't believe it," the youngster said. "I think she was drugged," the girl in black said, releasing my hand. "He's some sort of monster." Because I looked puzzled, she explained that her long- widowed mother had wed a very important Tory and gone to live in the city, leaving this young widow to run the family's farm. Both girls feared and despised their new step-father, evidently with good reason since he had tried to seduce them both and had plied the younger girl with liquor until she passed out and lay in her own vomit. We ate and the lovely widow took me to her bed, eager as sin. We enjoyed each other thoroughly, and then she sobbed in my arms, fearful for her mother and her own fate with about six inches of my manhood trapped in her cloying depths. We slept, and in the morning, I skewered her on my monstrous prod, my gift from the gods of lust, and we were well into our third or fourth coupling when her sister ran into the room. She looked at the young woman riding my loins, made a face and then cried, "They're here. Get dressed quickly." She ran out. The woman rocking on my belly smiled down at me, gritted her teeth, bucked hard and came once more before rolling off and leaving me with my slimy cock in my hand, still wanting more. "Stay here and be quiet," she said to me as she left in a fluffy morning dress. I lay back, my prod still fat and hard on my belly enjoying the after-glowing memory of her bouncing breasts with their inch-long tits and shilling-sized circles. Five minutes later, there was a screech from below, and I jumped to my feet and ran into the hall. The younger girl was flying up the steps with a young Redcoat subaltern in hot pursuit. She scurried behind me and I floored him with a punch, throttled him and when he was limp and his head could flop loosely from side to side, found her on the bed I had just left, sobbing. "Go help Susie," she cried. "Help her, help her!" I found my boots and bayonet and galloped down the stairs and into the parlor where two men, one a gold- trimmed Redcoat and the other a puffing man with a fancy wig, were tearing the girl's clothes from her lean body and pawing her relentlessly. I tossed the officer aside, cuffed the lecherous civilian and hugged the distraught girl to me. The big British officer scrambled to his feet and made to draw his sword so I showed him my bayonet and disarmed him. "What's going on?" I demanded as the younger girl came to comfort her nearly naked sister. "This man," the youngster said, pointing at the fellow in mufti, "is our new stepfather, and he has sold us into slavery." "Nonsense," said the man, wiping blood from his mouth and easing himself into a chair. "They didn't understand." "Just so," said the officer, "we jus' wanted these two to serve some of the King's officers, lady-like you understand, no more than four or five a day." "Whores?" I said, "That what you mean?" "In a way," the captain said, wrinkling his forehead, "Mr. Charles there said they were both friskers." "It's a lie," I told him. "A damnable lie." "They're rebels," said the man in the chair, his face turning red, "same thing, not worth tuppence." "Where's their mother?" I demanded of him. He smiled. "Likely on her back under a colonel or major, doing her bit for the cause." I hit him in the face with the hilt of my big knife in my hand, knocking over the chair and crushing his nose. He lay on the floor mewling and spitting out broken teeth. "Go get dressed to travel," I told the two girls. "We'll go and fetch her." I turned to the shaken officer. "Where is she?" He told me and I sent him to fetch his aide's body and then turned my attention to the man on the floor, dripping blood into the rug. I dragged him out the front door and around to the horse trough. I kicked him to his knees and pushed his head under the water, holding it there for a minute or so. I pulled him up, let him sputter and beg, and then held him under until he stopped squirming and making bubbles. I left his body there with his head, arms and shoulders in the water and went back in the house. I took his purse, of course, a good, heavy one. I helped the officer get the dead young man into the carriage and then asked him if he wanted to live. He nodded so I got him to swear to leave this family alone and sent him on his way after making sure I understood where the girl's mother was being held. I soon got the girls into their carriage and drove into the city, pulling into the courtyard of a stately home. It was still early in the day so I did not expect much trade. The girls and I went right in the front door, and I sent them up the stairs to find their mother while I locked the harridan who ran the place and a young officer with his britches in his hand in the cellar. The distraught woman soon appeared with her grown children, told me that there were two other ladies being held against their will, and we quickly got all five stuffed into the rig and hurried north. We dropped off the other two where they asked and when we got back to the house we had left, I let the woman discover the man she had married lying chest deep in the horse trough. She dragged him out and looked down at his white and distorted face. "He drugged me," she said calmly, "laudanum. It was my fault, at least in part." "What shall we do with him?" asked the older daughter. "Call the authorities," I said. "You can see that the poor man must have tripped and fallen. Look at his nose. Knocked himself out and drowned I suppose." I went back to the war, glad to find a situation I understood. END *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison system. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 77