Red Rock

"Tell you what, Green, I'm feeling in a generous mood. I don't normally share my women, but I think I'm gonna make an exception."

He aimed the gun at Green. "Take your clothes off too."

Green remained motionless until Tibbs pulled back the hammer of his gun and placed the barrel against her breasts. "Be a shame."

Green stripped slowly out of his rain-soaked clothes. Naked his tanned, hard-muscled body glistened.

"Damn, boy, you're almost as hung as me. This is gonna be an evening the little lady ain't likely to forget for a long time. Ain't that right, honey?" Tibbs squeezed her ass cheek with his free hand, leaving the red imprint of his hand there.

He grabbed a handful of hair and turned her head making her look at Green.

You see what the problem is, darlin', Mr. Green ain't got no hard-on; so that means you're gonna have to help him out, right?"

Maliciously Tibbs twisted her hair until she was forced down on her hands and knees.

"Now crawl over to Mr. Green, bitch, and get him hard, and you'd better look like you're enjoying it cause it'll piss me off if you don't."

Tibbs laughed raucously and placed his foot on her ass shoving her forward.

She stopped in front of Green and raised up on her knees. She placed her hand around the limp organ feeling it swell slightly against her soft palm. His cock was big even soft. She'd had fantasies about the handsome stranger ever since she'd seen him ride into Red Rock, but nothing this crude and vulgar. Nevertheless, she could do nothing. She swore if she ever got the chance she would kill Tibbs. And although she had always been against violence as a means of settling problems, for once in her life she believed it would be justified.

She took the head of Green's cock in her mouth; his hard body quivered like a stallion eager for its morning run. She could feel the softness of the skin and a hardening inner core noticeably swelling as the foreskin retracted on the surface of her tongue. Despite the degrading circumstances, a surge of excitement enlivened her knowing that she was having a sensuous effect on him.

Soon the foreskin had slipped back behind the head; the cock, half-erect, was beginning to fill her mouth. It was becoming difficult not to gag. Removing it, she held the cock up against his belly and licked down the length of it, running her moist tongue lightly over the taut balls, sucking first one then the other into her mouth.

She placed her other hand against his thigh feeling the steel tension of rock-hard muscles. She licked back up the length of the now stout cock, realizing its massive thickness when she couldn't touch the tips of her fingers to her thumb around it.

What would it feel like to have that in her, she found herself thinking, and with a shock she realized she was becoming aroused. Wet. And suddenly she knew she wanted him in her.

"OK," Tibbs said, hoarsely, "both of you get on the bed and fuck."

When Faye stood up and turned she saw Tibbs sitting in her ladder-back chair his pants down around his ankles and his hand wrapped around his cock as he milked it back and forth. His eyes had a crazed, far-off look.

The slip gun was aimed at her belly. Green's cartridge belts and guns still hung from his shoulder.

"Don't try anything stupid; I don't miss."

Faye could feel the heat from Green's body as he stood close behind her. A prickling sensation coursed over her skin like spiderwebs. She was numb, dizzy, unable to concentrate. Her heart was raging in her chest; her knees seemed to have turned liquid.

His hands were warm on her upper arms as he guided her toward the bed. In a heartbeat she was on the bed looking up as Green loomed over her, positioning himself between her legs. As he entered her she cried out. From the corner of her eye she saw Tibbs masturbating furiously but still keeping the gun on them.

At first Green's thrust were slow and shallow but became deeper and faster until their bellies were slapping madly together. She raised her hips to meet his thrust, her hands locked behind his neck. His mouth found hers, his hot, wet tongue wedged its way between her parted, eager lips. Her tongue fought with his. They sucked deeply of each other.

His mouth moved down her slender neck, kissing and sucking, to the nipples, moving from one to the other until both were painfully, deliciously swollen. Her whole body ached for release. Sensation after sensation raced through her. She couldn't think. She was only conscious of raging lust trapped in quivering flesh. It was impossible to think, to focus. All she was aware of was his cock in her cunt pumping in and out.

And suddenly she was coming. It was like falling into a deep well, as if the earth had opened and swallowed her up. She came again. So intense it hurt. Her legs jerked in spasms. Following this there was a gradual leveling off. The climaxes became less intense, ecstasy gave way to a cozy, satiated state.

She wasn't even aware of what had happened when Green suddenly collapsed heavily on top of her crushing her breasts between their hot bodies.

She saw Tibbs standing over them. Grinning. He was holding a pistol by the barrel. Blood dripped into her mouth from Green's head.

Tibbs pulled Green off her and dumped him on the floor. He took a pair of handcuffs out of a hip pocket and cuffed his wrists behind his back.

Morgan watched him go to her chest of drawers and jerk open the top drawer and begin tossing out her underclothing. In the second drawer he found what he wanted: a pair of cotton hose.

With the hose he tied her wrists to the posts of the spool bed.

He dragged Green to the door pausing to look back at her.

"When I take care of him I'll be back, and we'll get real acquainted."

Green came awake as the rain washed over him. Tibbs dragged him face down the stairs by the cuffs which cut painfully into his wrists and placed all the weight of his body on his shoulders.

When Tibbs saw that he was conscious he stopped in the middle of the muddy street and placed his boot on the back of Green's neck forcing his face into the mud.

"Green you should never piss me off; now you're gonna really pay."

Saying this he kicked him savagely in the ribs several times grunting loudly with each kick. There was a cracking sound as bone gave way against the toe of his boot. He jerked Green up by the cuffs' chain and continuing dragging him toward the jail.

"No one's gonna help you, Green; nobody in this town has guts enough to face me; your ass belongs to me."

He kicked open the door of the jail after twisting the knob and dropped Green heavily near the center of the room next to a trapdoor. He pulled it open by a metal ring.

Green raised his head slightly. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He tried to roll away from Tibbs but was in too much pain.

"Part of the old Mex calabozo; a hole in the ground," Tibbs said. "I haven't got time to deal with you right now."

He grabbed hold of Green and shoved him into the dark pit. A long second passed followed by a dull thud as Green hit the bottom.

"Sleep tight, Green," Tibbs chuckled. "I'm going back and have some fun with the Morgan bitch."

He slammed the heavy wooden door shut and slid a heavy bolt across. From the bottom of the pit Green stared up into the darkness briefly before his chin dropped against smooth, cool clay.

Chapter 19: The end of the round-up

Patrick Loomis leaned against the trunk of a cottonwood next to Clear Water Creek and watched young Wade Lewis, the wrangler, ambling his mount into camp after being relieved by the nighthawk. It was near sunset and a few stars already were sprinkled against the eastern sky. Low to the ground the west was tarnished gold rising to a pale pink. A handful of thrushes darted above the trees that bordered the creek flying toward some unknown destination.

He watched Wade Lewis dismount by the stove cart -- the boy's hard muscles flexing and pushing against his cotton shirt as he tied his chestnut to a wheel -- and head leisurely toward the chuck wagon where Cookie had saved him some blanket steak and sourdough biscuits with plenty of hot coffee to wash it all down.

Patrick tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot. He walked toward the campfire where his men sat relaxing, some stretched out on their bedrolls.

The round-up was over. The last of the reps from the smaller ranches had gathered up all their strays and headed home. The cowboys remaining were all Loomis men. Tomorrow they would head back to the ranch, clean up and ride into Red Rock where they would let off a little steam. There would be plenty of whiskey and plenty of Lilly's whore transported in from Sackville.

Patrick went to his bedroll lying in the chuck wagon and took out a towel, washcloth and a bar of soap. As wagon boss he was just as tired as his men after putting in a full day of riding circle, bringing in a herd so the calves could be branded; but he didn't like the idea of curling up in his blankets at night smelling like a polecat if he could help it. Living back east with a cultured wife had made him more conscious of the social amenities. And besides it was good to set an example. Men always respected a leader who was more disciplined than they were. It set you apart from them. Told them that something in you was better, finer, than what they had in them. And if they realized that, you could exercise more authority over them. The wagon boss must be like the lead bull that all the other cattle follow: better in everyway, stronger in body and mind. Made of iron.

It was growing steadily darker as he stripped by the water's edge; a reddish glow off the sand allowed him to see far out across the gradual sloping of the vast praire to the dark, jagged line of distant mountains to the west.

He waded in up to mid-thigh and began soaping himself all over. The recent rain had left the creek bed swollen. His hands passed over his cock creating a noticeable stiffening. He squeezed his soapy palm around it. Electric tingles moved up and down his spine. He squeezed more tightly feeling his legs quiver.

From somewhere on the bank he heard a sound. Glancing to his side he saw the wrangler standing by a cottonwood. His face was hid in shadows, but Patrick knew he had seen him.

Patrick moved into a calm eddy away from the swifter center current until he was waist deep. He submerged himself rinsing the soap away and stood up. In the shadows of the cottonwood he watched the wrangler shed his clothes, carelessly dropping them on the ground and slowly wade into the water. His heart began to beat faster as the naked, muscular youth swaggered toward him.

In the ruby glow of twilight the wrangler stopped close to him staring him straight in the eyes. His hand went beneath the water and gripped Patrick's cock tightly, milking it hard. Patrick gasped softly and gave only a feeble resistance as the youth pulled him against him and forced his tongue between his lips.

Still holding Patrick's cock, he moved around behind him and pressed the length of his thick cock against the ass crack. With his free hand on Patrick's belly he pulled him to him and began kissing hotly at the nape of his neck.

Patrick felt the heat of the kisses spread throughout his quivering body. His knees grew weak and threatened to give out on him. The youth moved his cock up and down his crack, the head touching his asshole, nudging and bumping. He grabbed Patrick's wrists in his hands and guided him toward the bank. As they reached it Patrick sank to his knees; Wade forced him to his belly in the mud and brought his arms above his head, holding him pressed to the ground.

Wade got between his legs and Patrick felt the tip of the wrangler's cock touch the puckered hole of his ass. A firm hand gripped his mud-slick cock and began masturbating him; from behind the wrangler's thick cock slowly spread him apart, sliding deeper and deeper inside until taut balls were hard against his asscheeks.

Slowly the youth worked his cock in and out while pumping Patrick's cock between his belly and the muddy ground. To Patrick the sensation of fullness in his ass and the tightness around his cock was overwhelming. The youth rammed him, their wet flesh slapping wetly in the now near total darkness.

Patrick knew it wouldn't be long now for either of them. He couldn't hold back. The tight fist milked him harder and harder driving him into a frenzy. He squirmed wildly beneath the youth who began hammering into him.

Suddenly cum was spewing from him and into him. Wade let out a strained cry almost of agony, jerking violently on top of Patrick and collapsed with his full weight on him. Patrick could feel the boy's hot breath against his ear and hear the labored gasps as the last of his warm cum filled him.

Chapter 20: A little pot lickin'

For a week now Tibbs had kept her prisoner in her room subjecting her to every form of degradation and perversion the sadistic bastard was capable of.

Would it never end? Faye Morgan found herself asking for the nth time. How much more could she take? She wondered what had happened to Green after Tibbs had dragged him out. Was he still alive or had Tibbs killed him? When Tibbs wasn't entertaining himself with her body he would leave her with her wrists tied to the bed posts. The burning pain in her upper arms was almost unbearable from the constant, unnatural stretching of the muscles.

She wondered what more Tibbs had in mind for her. Was there anything left that he hadn't done? She had a sinking feeling that she was yet to discover what further horrors he was capable of . . . .

Tibbs was feeling invigorated that morning. The rain had ended. The sage had greened up across the desert lending a pungent aroma to the morning's air. Later, he told himself, he would hunt up some fat grouse and have Elena cook'em up for supper. But right now something else was occupying his mind creating an eagerness within him that could barely be contained.

After buckling his pants and pulling on his boots, Tibbs walked over to the trapdoor and stomped on it.

"How we doing, Green?" he taunted. "Guess you're gettin' kinda hungry. I once had a fuckin' redskin down there for two months 'fore he died of hunger. I've got a bet on with some of the boys that you'll last longer; so don't disappoint me. Course if'n you ever decide to tell me who you really are all this suffering could end." Tibbs listened for a reply. "No, huh?" He laughed loudly then picked up his slip gun off his desk and slid it in his hip pocket.

"Be see'n yuh, Green," he called out over his shoulder as he opened the jail door and walked out. "I'm gonna have me some fun this mornin'."

Tibbs headed for the hotel. The liveryman was mucking out the stalls as he passed the entrance way. The man glanced at him and turned away abruptly. In the alley, between the livery and the general store Doc Greely stood on the second-floor landing, leaning on the stair railing smoking and watching him with a frown on his face. Ames, the barber, his arm in a sling, was sitting leaned back in a chair against the front of his shop reading a copy of the Lantern. He pretended not to notice Tibbs.

They all hated Tibbs and Tibbs knew it, but he didn't care. They were weak men. Cowards, and such men didn't interest him. Their opinions about him didn't matter. As long as they jumped when he said jump, shit when he said shit, that's all he cared about.

He entered the hotel to the tinkling of the doorbell. Abigail was sweeping the lobby floor. When she saw him she turned to leave, but he quickly grabbed her around the waist with one arm and pulled her to him. The broom dropped to the floor. With his free hand he stroked one side of her face and kissed her crudely on the other.

Her body tensed as his hand moved down to her breast. He squeezed it, feeling the soft give.

"I told you not to wear anything underneath," he crooned hoarsely.

"I'm not," she replied, her voice strained as she tried to free herself. Her eyes were shut in a futile attempt to close out a world she no longer wished to be a part of; she pressed her lips tightly together. She could feel his hardness through her thin cotton dress. He rubbed against her ass lewdly.

"You sure?" he teased. He moved his hand farther down over the firm belly and cupped his thick paw over her cunt. He made an indentation in the fabric covering her crotch and ran a finger up and down feeling the lips of the slit give beneath the padding of wiry pubic hair. "Just checkin' to make sure."

"Please," she murmured weakly, wanting to turn her face away from the wet kisses his mouth was leaving on her cheek and neck. The palm of his left hand moved in slow circles over her belly while the finger of his right hand moved deeper into her slit stirring something inside her she didn't want stirred.

Suddenly he reached down and pulled her dress up over her hips, baring her from the waist down.

"No!" she pleaded, her voice tinged with panic.

"Don't worry; nobody's gonna come in."

She could hear him unbuttoning his fly; she felt the swelling warmth of his erection against her soft asscheek. He bent her over the back of a horsehair sofa, knocking a white, lace doily onto the floor.

Tibbs stared at the white firm buttocks, enjoying the sight, reveling in his anticipation. Her futile squirming only excited him more. Her soft, feminine pleads were more intoxicating than whiskey. A man who has never raped a woman has never experienced paradise on earth.

Tibbs spread the cheeks of her taut ass and stared down hungrily at the pink asshole as the small soles of her shoes dug into his shins. Using him she pushed up on the seat of the sofa, arching her back as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. But it was impossible. His huge hands encircled her narrow waist and held her fast. Her petite body was frail and childlike clutched against his massive chest and belly. Like an ape with a doll.

He positioned the head of his engorged cock against the pink button of her asshole and pressed slightly feeling a tight resistance. Pressing harder the tension increased as the purple head of his swollen organ began to slip into her. With a farther push the bulbous head disappeared, swallowed by the puckered lips, and slowly inch by inch his thick cock buried itself in her tight little hole until his hairy balls were nestled against the peach fuzz of her perineum.

Gradually she sank onto her elbows, her hands moving to the edge of the sofa where the long, pink nails clawed at the tough, unyielding fabric. Tibbs could feel the tautness of her body begin to drain away. A crude smile twisted his lips beneath his thick, drooping mustache. He felt wetness against his balls.

"You cunts are all alike," he smirked and repeated what had become his spoken mantra: "You pretend that you don't want it but, boy, do you ever. Before I'm through with you, bitch, you'll be begging me for it."

He withdrew his cock from her and placed the head lower down against the firm lips of her cunt. Through the wiry cunt hairs he slid his pole into her. She gasped softly, her whole body trembling. He shoved his cock in her fully, withdrew and rammed it back into her faster and faster. Her cunt gripped his cock tighter and tighter. He heard her moan from deep in her throat and tightened around him even harder.

"Uh . . . oooooooh . . . uuuuuh."

She squeezed him so hard that his cum backed up in his cock until finally erupting with such a painful intensity that his knees buckled.

Tibbs remained leaning into her for several minutes while catching his breath and awaiting the ending of the tiny spasms in his cock -- each one belching more cum into her sweet little cunt -- before he withdrew.