Red Rock

He picked the doily up from the floor and wiped off his massive, semi-erect cock. Abigail remained bent over the sofa. Tibbs watched his cum glistening on the inside of her thighs. She didn't move. Tibbs liked that. It showed she was waiting for his permission. It was a sign that she had given up her will to him. And she wasn't even aware of having done so. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she would be his sex slave to do with as he wanted. The thought excited him. And when he thought of what he had planned for her next he became even more excited.

"Get up!"

Obediently, Abigail pushed herself up from the sofa and pulled her dress back down over her hips. She kept her face lowered. Until Tibbs placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. Her eyes had little defiance left in them now; it had been weakened by a body that she could no longer trust; a body that had betrayed her. Replacing the defiance was a confused sexual need to be dominated that crowded out the independent woman who had once been so sure of herself.

"We're going for a little walk, Abby; I've got a little surprise in store for you." He traced her delicate jaw line with a finger. "And I have a feeling you might just like it; but if you don't like it at first I'm sure you'll learn to . . . ."

.

When Abigail saw the naked woman tied to the bed she tried to back out the doorway, but Tibbs pushed her on in.

"You two bitches have shunned me ever since you came to Red Rock, but all that's changed now."

Saying so, Tibbs gripped the buttoned front of Abigail's dress and tore it apart, yanking it down to her ankles leaving her naked.

"Now get over on that bed, bitch, and untie her!"

Dazed Abigail moved toward the bed in the corner like a sleep walker. The newspaperwoman's wrists were tied to the head posts of the bed with what looked like cotton hose. The hands were blotched purple where the circulation had been cut off. As she bent over to untie the knot on the post nearest, Tibbs stopped her.

"Straddle her first," he said, "then untie her."

Faye Morgan's belly was firm and warm against the inside of her thighs and buttocks as she complied with his orders. Despite her revulsion at what Tibbs was forcing her to do, Abigail felt a tingle of excitement, the faint flutter of butterfly wings building inside her.

Leaning forward struggling to unloosen the tight knots in the hose, her nipple grazed Morgan's lips. A shock of ecstasy coursed through her body. And instead of moving her breast away she pressed it more firmly against the woman's soft lips feeling such a surge of excitement that she became wet. As she glanced down she saw Morgan staring at her with a strange expression on her face.

When she finally freed Morgan's wrists, she saw Tibbs drop his pants and sit down in a chair facing them. He began masturbating.

"All right, ladies, you know what I want so don't disappoint me." Tibbs pointed his gun at them with his left hand while continuing to stroke his thick cock into an erection with his right.

Morgan tried to push Abigail off, but her hands were paralyzed from having been tied up overnight. The circulation was beginning to return and they were burning so badly that tears came to her eyes. The hands flopped uselessly against Abigail's tits until Abigail grabbed her wrists and held them down on the bed.

Surprising herself, Abigail slapped Morgan's face, first with one hand then the other. The action gave her a rush. She had never struck anyone before and she suddenly realized she liked the sensation of not only being dominated but of dominating someone else. What was happening to her? Tibbs was corrupting her. What was she becoming?

The red imprints of her hands blushed Morgan's cheeks. The woman's eyes glittered hotly.

A tiny whine sounded deep in her throat. Her ribcage rose and fell rapidly from her effort to dislodge Abigail. The woman's cunt was wet against her belly.

Abigail struck her again. Harder this time.

"Be still!" she ordered.

Morgan let out a grimaced sigh and stopped struggling. She and Abigail were of the same general build, height and all, but Morgan was weak after being half-starved and confined to the bed most of the time except when Tibbs would let her bathe or go to the outhouse. She lacked the strength to resist. And maybe that was good. If she didn't resist maybe it would end sooner. And the sooner the better.

She stared at Tibbs leaned back in the chair whacking his huge cock and recalled with revulsion all the times he had shoved that huge thing in her over the last week; she tasted bile rising in her throat.

Suddenly she was jarred out of her thoughts by the touch of Abigail's moist lips moving back and forth over her breasts, sucking and nipping from nipple to nipple.

She would let her have her way. Why struggle when she would be defeated anyway? It was revolting enough to be raped by a woman, but better that than having to endure another ravishing by Tibbs with his rough, probing hands and greedy, wet mouth reeking of whiskey and stale cigar -- demanding things from her no descent woman would ever dream of doing. She felt dirty and vile. He had taken her innocence. Yes, he could take and abuse her body, but he would never make her enjoy it! Never make her submit willingly!

Abigail was making tiny sucking sounds on her nipples. They were becoming hard. Little ripples of warmth were emanating from them. Her pussy muscles were flexing in sympathetic reaction.

With sudden disbelief she realized she was becoming aroused. She tried to fight the sensations that were building in her. Wicked, lewd images began to fill her mind.

It wasn't possible. Couldn't be. How could she be aroused by another woman? She wasn't one of those women.

She writhed beneath Abigail, trying once more to buck her off, but Abgail only returned a throaty laugh and murmured something incomprehensible while continuing to suck on her nipples like a baby starved for milk.

Tibbs had achieved a massive erection by now and the sound of his flapping-off filled the room.

Abigail slowly worked her way up Morgan's neck giving butterfly kisses, nibbling at her tender earlobes, tantalizing her with probing fingers while whispering lewd suggestions.

With her right hand she held Morgan's chin and drew the tip of her tongue across her lips which reluctantly began to open under her insistent prodding. Soon she was thrusting her tongue deep into her mouth, gripping it with her teeth, pulling lightly, teasingly. While doing this she moved her left hand down over the firm belly and raked her fingers through the blonde cunt hairs into the tight slit which instantly began to swell under her administrations.

A shudder moved through Morgan's body and the legs parted slightly. Abigail flicked the tips of her fingernails lightly over the clit and slowly inserted he finger into her cunt hole.

While she worked the finger in and out of the pussy hole, she bit Morgan's tongue tugging with her teeth, pulling and stretching her lips with her lips. Soon Morgan arched upward to meet the thrust of the finger. Abigail vibrated it quickly from side to side pushing deeper and deeper into her. She could feel Morgan's breath hot on her face as she drew back, hear rapid gasps building. The shapely body was quivering uncontrollably beneath her.

She withdrew her finger and inserted her thumb instead, placing the tip of her index finger against the asshole. Slowly she worked it in rotating her wrist slightly clockwise and counter clockwise as she drilled the finger through the tight sphincter muscle.

Inverting her body, Abigail placed her cunt over Morgan's face in a 69 position.

"Lick it!" she ordered.

She placed her fingernails against Morgan's inner thighs and dug them into the soft, giving flesh.

Soon, Morgan's trembling lips tentatively brushed her pussy hairs; the wet tip of a warm tongue probed the swollen, tingling flesh of her cunt lips. The beginnings of a cum race through Abigail's belly, building deliciously. She had never known sex with a woman could be so good. Quickly she lowered her mouth to Morgan's pussy burying her tongue deep into the slit while continuing to work her finger in and out of her ass.

Both women sucked at each other as if possessed. Their nude bodies writhed sensuously on the narrow bed giving Tibbs a show he would never forget. Standing up he shook off the rest of his clothes until his broad-shouldered, big bellied body was totally naked. His massive cock swung heavily from side to side occasionally jerking upward to slap against his hairy gut.

He stepped over to the bed and gripping his cock in one hand he grabbed a handful of Abigail's lush, brown hair and pulled her toward him guiding her mouth against it. Eagerly her lips opened and slid down the immense tube which filled her mouth to the stretching point. He pushed it all the way to the back of her throat and held it there.

She couldn't take all of him. It was impossible to breathe with that enormous head lodged against the back of her throat. She began to panic. Did he know he was strangling her? Would he care? The need for air grew within her. Yet at the same time an intense excitement built within her as Morgan's tongue moved hotly in and out of her cunt.

The closer she came to smothering the more an overwhelming need to cum racked her body. It was unbelievably exciting. And horrifying. She was going to die cuming!

Tibbs laughed raucously and pulled his cock out of her mouth, slapping her hard on her ass. He climbed on the bed behind her, straddling Morgan's face.

He placed the head of his cock against her asshole while Morgan alternately licked his massive balls and Abigail's pussy. Slowly he inserted the huge organ in the tiny, puckered opening and began forcing his way in inch by inch. And while he was entering her, Abigail resumed licking and probing Morgan's cunt hole bringing the newspaperwoman closer and closer to the most intense climax she might ever know.

Tibbs reached down on the floor and unloosened his belt from his pants and doubling it brought it down hard on Abigail's creamy-white ass while his cock was lodged fully inside her. The sharp whack of leather against tender, female flesh resounded loudly in the small room. The intense pain caused Abigail's sphincter to tighten around Tibb's cock like a vice. A puffy red welt formed instantly across her firm, rounded cheek. Tibbs brought the belt down again; the delicious sensation of her asshole squeezing his cock to the root with such force made him shoot half a load of cum into her ass before his tube was squeezed shut.

Delirious with ecstasy, he swung the belt wildly raining blow after blow on the delicate cheeks raising a cruel criss-cross of welts over the now burning red skin. Abigail screamed in agony yet came with such force that her whole body convulsed into a series of uncontrollable spasms. Her teeth were clenched so tightly that she thought they would crack.

Sweat dripped from Tibbs' hairy belly onto her asscheeks. He stared down to where his thick slab of meat disappeared into her. The slightest movement would make him cum. His body tingled all over. Morgan's tongue on his balls made it impossible to resist any longer. Pumping Abigail's ass frantically he shot load after load filling her to the brim. As he pulled out cum dripped out into Morgan's lapping mouth.

Tibbs smiled and climbed off the bed. In just a week he was more than well on his way to turning the two women into his sex slaves. If he wanted, from now on they would be at his beck and call, willing to perform any perversion he wanted. Things were looking up.

He thought about Green languishing in the dungeon. He could just let the man starve to death, but that wouldn't be any fun. Or maybe he could nail his naked ass to a whiskey barrel and flay him alive with a latigo de cadena, a chain scourge that Mex jailers were fond of using on prisoners. That would make him talk; the thought made Tibbs' dick begin to re-stiffen. But there was no hurry. He had plenty of time to figure out an appropriate end for John Green, aka Jack McGee, or whoever the fuck he was. He squeezed his dick feeling it swell with new excitement. Power was the greatest dick stiffener in the world. If there is a fucking God, Tibbs was thinking, his fucking dick must be as fucking hard as a fucking rock all the fucking time.

Chapter 21: The whores come to Red Rock

The round-up finally over, dozens upon dozens of horny cowboys began to converge on Red Rock for pussy, whiskey, poker and shoot-outs. Lilly's whores had arrived earlier in the afternoon from Sackville and taken up rooms in the Loomis hotel. Later, they would stroll down to the cantina and pick up some cowboys and bring them back to their rooms. And later -- much later -- when no one cared about appearances any longer, the whores would stay in their rooms and merely have to open their doors to select from a long line of randy cowboys who would be waiting with two dollars and a hardon.

.

When the whores had first arrived that afternoon, the beautiful Ish-kay-nay, shaman-warrior of her tribe and second in power under Gray Wolf, stood naked, save for knee-high moccasins, on a rocky ledge watching through a pair of military binoculars. Encamped behind her were a hundred or more young warriors, equally naked, lounging about and eagerly awaiting nightfall.

It is good, she thought, lowering the glasses.

The eyes were dark brown and glittering with a keen intelligence. The eyebrows were plucked as well as the eyelashes, the custom among the Apache, both male and female. Her thick, shinny, black hair hung halfway down her back to a narrow waist that could be encircled by a man's two hands. She held the binoculars loosely against her left thigh and placed her right hand on her cocked hip slowly letting her gaze drift to the vast desert beyond.

The white eyes -- los ojos blancos as the Mexicans called them, pin-dah-lickoyee to the Apache -- would be drunk tonight. And the moon would be full. A good night to attack.

She turned toward the encampment, square-shouldered, chin held high, her hips swaying provocatively as she walked. She cast a proud glance among the surrounding ravines and outcroppings. To the untrained eye a yucca plant, a mesquite bush, the tan grasses or the sage were just that and nothing more, but to Ish-kay-nay they were Apache warriors, hidden from enemy view. No one could come within a thousand yards of their encampment without being seen.

She strode purposefully among the scattered groups of warriors knowing their averted eyes would be fixed on the lush curves of her firm, young body as soon as she wasn't looking. She didn't mind. Her beauty was a source of power and one she knew how to use well when she wanted to. Her full breasts jiggled tautly as she stepped over the rough, rock-hewed terrain. Consciously she allowed her hips to move even more seductively and heard appreciative murmurs come from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and gave a nearby group of braves a taunting look, but continued on until she came to a young Indian lying on a red blanket off to himself.

She kneeled down next to him and looked at the freshly healed scar on his stomach. The white man who called himself John Green had saved her young brother's life, at least until she had had a chance to use her healing arts on him.

Bear Claw studied her profile as she poked and prodded around the scar. He no longer felt any pain. The soft palm of her hand brushed against his limp cock . . . and brushed again. His organ quivered slightly.

"I'm healed now. I can fight." He spoke brashly, but she saw a need for confirmation in his wavering gaze.

"Hmm, perhaps it is so," she replied keeping her face expressionless. "You heal fast, my brother."

Her hand brushed against his cock once more. This time a noticeable jerk caused the organ to rise slightly off his hard belly. He was powerless to stop it. Was his sister teasing him? If she knew his need for a woman she would not be so cruel. She would take pity on him. She would not tempt him so. She would -- but what could a sister do to ease a brother's longing? He tried to push out the thoughts and images that had suddenly arose in his mind. His sister's hand was so soft and warm. Her skin and hair as she bent over him smelled of heart wood, sage and mountain heather. His cock stiffened even more. God, if she kept rubbing him he was going to cum, and she would know the evil thoughts he had.

"Dee-dah (you) have been lucky, my brother."

"Shee-dah (I) know, Ish-kay-nay."

The general term for a young woman who has not received her proper name is ish-tia-nay, but his sister had been a tomboy and had refused to accept a designated name when the time came -- showing a fierce spirit of independence -- and so she was called by the male term for boy, ish-kay-nay. Like all warrior women in the Apache tribes, she did not perform any of the duties of a squaw and was considered the equal of any male warrior. And since the Apache have a reverence for those of great beauty she was elevated to an even higher level in which she never was expected to perform the slightest menial duties. She was treated as if she were a princess. Also, having acquired the shaman's art from her great uncle, she became second only to Gray Wolf in power and was as feared as he in combat. She had taken her first scalp when she was thirteen. But even more importantly she had earned greater honors by conducting the highest number of coups in her tribe.

She moved her face closer to examine the scar. He could feel her warmth on his belly. Her left breast touched his hip bone. The nipple grazed the tender skin coming off the slope and brush against his cock which was fully hard now.

He gasped deeply as her hand encircled it and squeeze tightly, loosen and squeeze again. She continued doing this until he thought his cock would explode. Spasms of pleasure raced up and down his spine colliding and ricocheting wildly, churning his lust into a frenzy. He pushed his meat up into her moist palm and began hunching it.

His sister was seducing him! He couldn't believe it.

He wanted to fuck his beautiful sister more than anything he had ever wanted. But would she let him? Was she playing with him? She had to! She had to! Or he would die! She was like a goddess. Her body so beautiful. He would die to cum in her.

Oh, beautiful sister have mercy on me! Fuck me or I will die! Please do not let me die without fucking you! I beg you! Please!

She straddled his waist. He could feel his cock lever up against the crack of her ass.

Oh, Great Spirit! It was happening. He was going to fuck her.

They were in a secluded area near a large boulder. No one could see them. She leaned forward touching her breasts to his chest. Her rich, black hair rained down shrouding their faces. Her lips touched his. The point of her tongue moved between his lips. Her slender fingers became entangled in his long dark hair. Her nails raked lightly across his scalp.

Bear Claw's lust made him grow bold. He gripped the back of her head and forced his tongue deep into her mouth. She squirmed against him. Eager. Excited. He could hear her breathing becoming ragged and labored. He was turning her on.

He lowered his free hand to his cock where it palpitated against the warm flesh of her ass. Gripping it tightly he tried guiding it into her cunt and after several attempts the head suddenly slipped in between the soft pussy lips. She was so wet that he was in before he realized it. Her cunt tightened around the head like a vice. With greater effort he managed to push his cock farther into her and heard her groan deeply, hungrily, as their tongues entwined.