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An Unwanted Rescue

by Christophorus Volkov

Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 02 Sep 2017

October 1862
Private Finneas McCabe opened his canteen and drank the last drop of water from it. Cut off from his unit after a brutal skirmish in far Eastern Kentucky, the Union scout wanted nothing more to get back north and find his friends.

Needing water and food, McCabe could feel his feet pounding inside his boots from a half day of moving through what he thought was Kentucky hills, forest, and underbrush. Little did he know that he had accidentally moved from the border state of Kentucky to the far Eastern mountains and foothills of the Confederate stronghold of Virginia.

After breaking his compass by dropping it on a rock, Finn, as his friends knew him, had no idea where he was. He just knew he needed to find cover and food or he might have to use the last of his ammunition on a hungry black bear or an angry pack of Confederates.

Finneas was 22 years old and a full six feet out of his boots. He was from the city of Philadelphia where he worked for his father’s newspaper. Weighing in at about 180 pounds, Finn’s muscled chest and abdomen were well-hidden under his heavy wool blue uniform and undershirt. His bubble ass, toned from marching and powerful calves and thighs were inside his blue trousers. On his feet, his wool socks covered his weathered feet inside his size 12 boots. He had a minor bullet wound that grazed his left shoulder. It had scarred over by now. Finn was a healthy, clean-shaven and handsome man.

Finn stumbled up the steep slope of a bald hilltop to get a vantage point and see the lay of the land. It was a risk for him that might reveal his position, but that was a risk he was willing to take.

Sweating and breathing heavy, Finn got to the top of the hill. He pulled a rag from his leather knapsack and removed his hat. His mop of dirty blond hair was a dusty mess as he wiped his unwrinkled brow. He folded the rag and stuck it back in the sack.

He took out a small pair of binoculars and looked around. In the distance, he saw a small town. He could see the bright white clapboards on the side of the church steeple. He gazed around and saw a clearing about a half mile to his left. It was a small farmhouse. He thought maybe he could make it there and, since he was in a border state, appeal to the owners to give him some food and drink and maybe he could figure out how to fix his compass. Finn was desperate, and the locals in the area had been good to him.

Kentucky locals, that is, but this was Virginia.

Colonel Eli Hill and his ragtag band of Virginia militia guerillas were not a part of any official Confederate Army unit, but Colonel Hill and his militia were notorious in the area and left their encampment on patrol for Union Army activity. As the group was crossing a small creek, they spied a solitary Union soldier on top of the bald mountain.

That damn Yank, thought Hill. What’s he doing in Virginia? What’s old Lincoln want our there in this wilderness. He managed to keep his band of 15 men quiet as they tracked and stalked Finneas from a safe distance.

Hill thought the Yankee was part of a larger attack squad, and he was going to capture him for intel.

As Finn scrambled down the side of the bald mountain, he didn’t know that he’d been spotted by Colonel Hill and his band of Virginia militia guerillas who were quietly moving to intercept him. He had no idea that his afternoon excursion away from his unit was about to become so memorable.

As Finn tracked toward the small farm he had seen from the top of the bald mountain, the militia positioned itself in his path, and Finn walked right into an ambush. Finn had been so focused on getting to the home over the next hilltop that he neglected to see all the signs of a group of Virginia militiamen about to intercept him.

When he crested the next hill, he was surrounded. Stop there Yankee and put them hands up, Hill said to Finn. Finn looked around for an escape route, and the only possible route was down a 40-foot embankment. He would be lucky to survive. Reluctantly, Finn complied.

His hands went up.

Tie him up, Hill ordered.

The butternut coated militiamen surrounded Finn and tied his hands behind his back. On the ground! one barked.

McCabe got on the ground, and they tied up his feet. Put him on the back of my horse, said Hill.

Before Finn could protest, he’d been knocked unconscious and slung over the back of Hill’s horse ass up like a sack of potatoes.

Finn didn’t feel a thing until a splash of water woke him up.

As he regained consciousness, Finn became aware of a number of things. He was aware of being in the militia’s encampment. He was tied at the wrists and ankles bent over a log. He had been stripped naked and could feel another tight cord tied around his balls. He didn’t know for sure, but it felt like he had been violated with something as he felt a slippery lubricant around his tight hole. His balls...well, he could tell they were throbbing. They were already starting to turn purple.’re awake! We’ve had a little fun with you, Yankee scum, said Hill as he grabbed Finn by the hair and pulled his head backwards to look into his eyes. We played a little poker...or should I say...poke him. The militia laughed. Why don’t we show him, boys?

Hill slapped McCabe’s white ass cheeks leaving a faint imprint of red hand. McCabe felt a poke around his anal opening and then some pressure and pain as the barrel of a handgun probed his hole. We know you liked his when you were out. Hell, your cock grew, said Hill.

Get that thing out of my asshole! said McCabe.

I think you’re liking it. Give it to him a little deeper, Smith, with a laugh, Smith pushed another inch in. Playfully, he cocked and uncocked the handgun.

Smith slipped the gun out and Hill grabbed Finn’s hair and pulled back until the scared soldier’s eyes met his.

What happens next is up to you, Yank. If you want to answer my question, we’ll simply give you food and let you be on your way. If you refuse, let’s just say that we have other things for that hole...just not nearly as pleasurable. Show him, Smith.

Smith grabbed a large iron bar and put it close to McCabe’s face. Hill actually had no intention of shoving that up the young Yankee’s ass, but he was going to inflict some pain.

We’ll heat that baby right up, and it will fuck up your day for about a year, Hill sneered.

McCabe closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He knew what he had to do.

Hill grabbed the end of the rope tied securely around Finn’s ball sack, So, with that in mind, what is your name, and what is your mission? You might want to think about your answer because not only is your asshole on the line, but it looks like your manhood is as well.

My name is Private Finneas McCabe. My date of birth is August 31, 1840.

You left something out, Finneas, said Hill. You know, what is your mission?

My name is Private Finneas McCabe. My date of birth is August 31, 1840.

Your choice, Private. Hill yanked the rope and pain coursed through McCabe’s stomach. Finn’s balls pulled hard up towards his ass and his plump dick flipped down showing the beginning of an erection. Hill pulled again, and another searing bit of pain filled Finn’s lower stomach.


One of the soldiers grabbed a leather strap and began to slap Finn’s ass.

SMACK...SMACK...SMACK. The young Union soldier’s ass started to sting as his round mounds started to turn red. Hill yanked on the rope again just as the soldier slapping Finn’s ass with the leather strap made contact on Finn’s lower ass cheeks. The edge of the strap caught Finn’s right testicle causing an explosion of pain. Finn’s knees buckled.

Hill raised his hand, Have you had enough yet?

You guys hit like whores. Is that the best you got? I’m not telling you anything, said Finn.

Enraged, Hill grabbed the strap and began pounding Finn’s ass.


With each hard hit from Hill, Finn’s ass grew a brighter and brighter red. The young man bit his lip and closed his eyes. Finn felt every last bit of pain, and he felt his resolve growing. There was nothing they could do to make him talk because his cock was growing. He was loving this.

Oh yeah...keep going...keep going, cried Finn.


Finn could feel his pressure building inside. He was going to cum if the spanking continued, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. In his effort to punish Finn for his silence, Hill had unleashed a pain whore.

The strapping continued, and Finn’s ass passed red and was on its way to purple.


Hill had removed his coat. His fat belly was hanging over his pants as his suspenders framed his matted beard. His face was red, and he was sweating profusely. His arm tired...he stopped as Finn was on the verge of cumming. Finn could feel the ripples of his pelvic muscles trying to expel the load. Something blocked the load.

OK Private, I’m going to give you one last shot at this. Either you’re going to tell us your mission, or we’re going to put this iron bar up inside you until we hit the back of your teeth, said a gasping Hill.

So, tell me why you were in Virginia?

Finn thought for a moment. He was still feeling the cum load, and his purple balls were starting to ache from not cumming. Hill was standing right behind him. His boot was positioned right below Finn’s cock.

My name is Private Finneas McCabe, and I...

What kid...what?



I am cumming sir...I’m cumming.

You’re coming?

Finn’s cock exploded like a pent up geyser and covered Hill’s leather boot with manjuice. Wave after wave produced more cum. His cock must have pumped 20 times. Spent, Finn’s knees buckled, and he went limp in his restraints.

Hill didn’t know what to do. He stood there looking at the shoe that was covered with Finn’s semen as if he had been shot by a Union round.

Colonel Hill, sir? asked Smith. What do we do?

Looking at the Yankee’s quivering asshole, Hill realized that nothing he did was probably going to elicit any information from Finn. The young Yankee was experiencing an orgasm like he had never had before.

Out of nowhere, a rifle shot rang out. Hill froze.

A warning shot...

From the trees, a voice came, Now, we don’t want any trouble, but it seems that knucklehead you have tied up there accidentally wandered from Kentucky to Virginia. If you untie him and let us have him, we’ll be on our way. If you fail to turn him over, we have orders to take him by force.

Without blinking an eye, Hill grabbed Finn’s balls and untied the rope around them. Smith cut loose the restraints on his ankles and wrists.

Wobbling, Finn rose to his full height. Looking down at the Confederate militia leader, Finn smiled, winked and said, Was it good for you, baby?

Hill looked away, Let’s get the fuck out of here.

The small band of Virginia militiamen abandoned camp.

Finn stood there in the middle of the camp, naked and satisfied.

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