Rebel 1777
Copyright© 2014 by realoldbill
Chapter 82: Short Fight
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 82: Short Fight - A young soldier in Washington's army recalls his adventures.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Historical Violence
I was not looking for a fight, but I found one. It was late in the day when I came to the roadside tavern, a small place as they go. I took care of my horse, used the privy and once inside found a circle of men in one corner, spectators to some sort of event. I got a beer and joined them, elbowing a few aside to see what was going on.
Rape was what was going on.
A big man with his white britches hanging loose at his knees along with his black galluses was buggering a good-sized young woman at the end of a table. The girl was spread out, holding on the far side where another man sat and, I now saw, he was gripping her wrists.
"Dumb - uh - bitch - ugh - dumb -damn'd - bitch - ugh - dumb - ugh - bitch." The litany went on and on as the big man savaged the girl's ass, ramming her hard against the edge of the table. Somehow he had gather two big hanks of her long hair, twisted them into ropes and then looped them through her mouth. He was now using her hairs as reins and keeping her head up as he used her as cursed her
"Who is she?" I asked the man standing next to me.
He shook his head. "She was selling duck eggs."
"Damn," I said, "he a redcoat?"
He nodded. "Nasty bastard."
I sat down my beer, pushed my way through the spectators, grabbed the big man by the arm and pulled him away from the girl, hitting him in the gut with a good right and in the mouth with a wild left. It was like hitting a brick wall.
His friend let go of the girl, and she slumped to the floor between us.
"That's my sister," I yelled at him. "Leave her alone."
"She's a stupid cunt," he roared, "insulted me, she did."
He was a big man, big in the chest and belly and thigh, heavier than I was by three or four stone and nearly as tall. I was fairly sure I could handle him, but I was worried about the other fellow who was extricating himself from the table and growling, a gleaming knife in his hand.
"Stay out of this," I yelled at him, drawing my big bayonet.
He lunged at me, tripped over the fallen girl and died at my feet. I pulled my big blade out of him and faced the Redcoat who had now pulled up his breeches but had not refastened his foreflap and his limp cock still hung out, purplish and heavy veined. He opened his arms wide. "Unarmed," he said.
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