Wet Wild West Ch. 03

This story is set in the same world as the other in the series, it also has the same protagonist. It includes certain supernatural elements which are the focal point of the 'plot', hence the different genre. If you had enjoyed previous episodes, but you're not into fantasy, you should still enjoy this part.

As always constructive criticism is welcome.

---------------------------------------------------

Annie, the owner of the town's brothel, had had a busty night yesterday. She had serviced several customers, the sex was good and so was the income. Today Mary, the sheriff of Titepoos, hoped that the new day would be slow and calm. They were the same person, but she preferred to use different names in her two jobs to separate them even further. Her full name was Mary Anne Hornney.

"Sheriff!" shouted a young man riding on a horse down the street, "there's a stand-off!"

Damn it. There goes hope.

"Between whom?" Mary asked calmly.

The man made a short pause to appreciate her vocabulary. The sheriff and Jane, the town's doctor, were the only people to use words like "whom".

"The settlers and the Indians."

Damn it.

Neither of these groups were under Mary's jurisdiction. She could try to exert some authority over the settlers. They came to Titepoos regularly and mostly stayed on good terms with the inhabitants of the town. They also in most cases respected authority, but it all depended mostly on their good will. The Indians she could only politely ask. The sheriff decided to do what every responsible person, especially ones in a position of authority, should - mediate. Mary gathered all her five deputies, because you can get more with a kind word and a gun, than with just a kind word. Then she told Willy, because that was the young man's name, to lead them to the location of the stand-off.

The distance was not too great, but still gave them some time for a conversation. Willy was only eighteen years old and was a huge fan of Mary Anne, even though she was twice his age. Currently Willy's greatest problem was not staring at the sheriff's large breasts. Her outfit was not revealing, but it was tight and anyway it was impossible to hide breasts as big as hers; Mary pretended not to notice his gazes. The whole company rode listening to Willy's tales, not related to the case.

When they finally arrived at the place, the scene they witnessed was not as threatening as Mary had feared. Sure, there was a risk of violence, but not an immediate one. A group of settlers, along with their cattle, were facing a group of Indians. All, apart from the cows, were armed, but no weapons had been drawn yet. They were all located right beyond the border of the Indian territory. Even without asking Mary could see the most probable source of the conflict - a river. Cows needed to drink, the Indians had the water, the settlers thought they could just come and take it. Mary gestured for her deputies to spread out. The seven, together with Willy, riders formed a line, so they would look more intimidating. They were soon noticed by the conflicted parties.

"I'm sheriff Mary Anne Hornney of Titepoos," Mary announced when they approached the groups, "what is the problem."

"They enter our land," the Indian's leader was the first to answer. His English was quite decent.

"We just want some water for our animals," replied one of the settlers.

"The ownership of this land," Mary addressed the legal part to the settlers, "was negotiated with the Wakacha tribe by the Federal Government. It cannot be disputed by the citizens nor any other forms of authority other than the aforementioned government. In short, the Indians own the land and it's up to them to let you do anything here."

"But we just want some water."

"If this land belonged to white men, what would you need to do to get it?" Mary asked.

"Buy it," the man answered honestly, before he realised he had walked into an ambush.

"How much did you offer then?"

"But..." the man knew he had been outsmarted.

That was not a solution and the sheriff was well aware of it. The cattle had to drink and Mary had to somehow broker a deal with the Indians. They were in the right here, so outsmarting them was not an option, at least when one wanted to maintain peace.

"Would you let these people go to the river this one time," Mary turned to the Indian's leader, "if they offered to pay a fair price?"

This might have been the frontier, but these Indians already knew the concept and the value of white man's money.

"They never offer fair price," the leader answered.

"They will accept one this time," the sheriff assured him.

"We will discuss it."

He turned to his companions and they talked for a moment. Finally he turned back to Mary and named his price, in gold; to the sheriff it sounded reasonable.

"But only one time," he stressed.

"Agreed. I'll tell them your offer."

The settlers were reasonable. They needed the water and they had enough gold. Most importantly they were not willing to come into conflict with Indians AND the sheriff. Mary sent her deputies and Willy to ride with the settlers. She remained with the Indians to continue the negotiations.

"Would you agree that the settlers brought their cattle to the river more often?" she asked the leader, "we've set up where and when. I'd make sure that they don't intrude anywhere else."

"The Chieftain has to make that decision."

So he was not the Chieftain after all, Mary thought to herself. She should have known that from the start, he looked too young for that role.

"Could you lead me to him?"

The man pondered for a short moment.

"Yes, but not now. I will bring you the message tomorrow."

"Thank you."

The settlers eventually led their cows away. The sheriff told them that she will try to negotiate a deal with the Indians. But until then they could not intrude into their land or Mary would arrest them for breaking a federal treaty. A carrot and a stick; the settlers agreed. More importantly, Morning Wood, because that was the leader's name, promised to deliver her plea to his Chieftain, and hopefully set a date for further negotiations. Willy was very proud of Mary's success and was certain that she would manage to get any deal she wanted. He still could not get his eyes off her breasts.

Morning Wood arrived at Titepoos on the very next day, bringing good news with him - the Chieftain agreed to meet the sheriff. The time was somewhat surprising, because it was late afternoon already and it would take an hour-long ride to reach the Indians' camp. But if that meant making a deal, then Mary could risk missing the evening dance at her brothel. On their way to the Indian's camp the sheriff had a chance to talk to Morning Wood. He was the one in their tribe who had the greatest talent for languages and would serve as the translator between Mary and the Chieftain.

Mary had expected that a chieftain of a tribe would be an older man, with long grey hair and wrinkled face. It turned out that Hung Like a Bear, because that was his name, was merely a few years older than Morning Wood. He was short, like most of the Indians, about the same height as the sheriff. He had broad strong shoulders and lean athletic posture. His hair was long and dark, but had a few silver streaks here and there. The introduction was short and simple. She then told him her proposal with more details this time. The settlers would be allowed to bring their animals to the river. It was yet to be determined how often they could do that. They would use only a set path and not venture anywhere else. Last but not least - they would pay for the water. Mary would be responsible for maintaining the order. Morning Wood translated everything faithfully, the Chieftain listened patiently. Next the sheriff answered a few questions; she was being completely straightforward and so was Hung Like a Bear. The Chieftain then pondered in silence for a longer moment. Mary knew better than to interrupt him, so she waited patiently. Finally he spoke and Morning Wood translated.

"The deal is fair, but the white man cannot be trusted. We'll ask our spirits if we can trust you. Come with us."

Mary did not believe in Indian spirits, but was diplomatic enough not to state her doubts. She had no intentions of cheating the tribe and she hoped that, whatever ritual they had, the Indians would come to the same conclusion. The sheriff was led into a tipi where a fire was lit. She entered it along with Hung Like a Bear, Morning Wood and three other men. Mary was not a botanist, but she was certain that more than just mere firewood was inserted into the pit. She also assumed that pipes which all participants were given were filled with something more than just tobacco.

"Don't worry," Morning Wood told her, "just sit and do what everyone do. We all have good intentions. I'm sure the spirits will soon show us that you have too."

Mary hoped that this would indeed be the case, so she simply followed the instructions.

The smoke coming from the fire was not as obtrusive as the sheriff had feared. The smell was pleasant and she could breathe surprisingly freely. Whatever was in the pipe was much smoother than any tobacco she had ever tried, and she was not a regular smoker. Mary did not understand what the Indians were saying and Morning Wood did not translate it for her. She either sat idly or smoked her pipe when the others did so as well. The whole experience was surprisingly relaxing. The interior of the tipi was hot and a bit crowded, but not uncomfortably so. The sheriff's sight was slowly becoming hazy. At the same time the feeling of congestion was disappearing. When she first sat her shoulders were barely touching those of the men at her sides; now she no longer felt that touch. Instead she sensed... presence. Of the people surrounding her, yes, but also of someone (something?) else. The feeling was not threatening, quite the opposite it brought Mary inner peace. The tipi overhead seemed to be gone as well. The sheriff could not see the stars, but she felt as if she could sense their light on her skin.

Mary could not see The Indians, but heard them talk. They spoke from time to time, still in their own language, but the sheriff felt that if she focused just a bit harder she could understand them. The other 'person' was talking as well, in the same language, and she was close to understanding it as well. Mary was almost certain that the voice was friendly though; she considered that a good sign.

The entire experience seemed to last for hours and was surprisingly soothing. But at one point Mary also felt tension. It was a pleasant kind of tension though, she got... aroused. She looked around to check whether the men next to her had noticed anything, but she could still not see anyone through the thick smoke. She vaguely felt their presence, but nothing more. Her clothes, the practical and comfortable ones, began to feel tight and constrictive. Mary started to breathe faster, she did not understand what was happening, but for some reason she enjoyed it. Then she felt someone touch her breast; it was gentle, merely a caress. There was no hand to slap away, but the sheriff would not want to do that anyway. She still had her clothes on, but the touch felt as if it came on her bare skin. The 'presence' was quickly becoming more invasive. An invisible hand grabbed her whole breast. The palm was large, strong and undeniably masculine, but at the same time tender and well tuned to her needs. Soon a second hand joined in and grabbed the other breast.

"Mhm," Mary let out an involuntary moan and pushed her chest forward. Her clothes had been tight and restrictive only a moment ago, now she felt as if they had completely disappeared and the invisible hands were touching her, now bare and hot, skin. The palms were groping her breasts more possessively now, but it was just as pleasant.

"Mhm," another moan escaped from her mouth. The sheriff still could not see the surrounding men through the smoke, but she did not want them to think that she was crazy. It was becoming more difficult to control her body. The hands playing with her large breasts, and now also nipples, felt just too good.

"Mhm!" Mary moaned louder when invisible fingers softly squeezed her nipples.

Two hands remained on the sheriff's breasts when a third one slowly slipped between her legs.

"Mhmm!" another groan escaped from Mary's lips when a finger touched her clitoris. She could also feel her vagina becoming moist. She feared that the Indians could consider her a lunatic, but she was unable to contain her arousal.

Then the smoke suddenly began to dissipate. Along with it the invisible hands were gone. Mary could again see the men in the tipi. The two at her sides were touching her clothed shoulders. Everything seemed normal, but the sheriff's arousal had not disappeared and she feared that her face might have been as red as those of the Indians. No-one seemed to notice her state though.

"The spirit spoke to us," the Chieftain announced and Morning Wood translated, "it told us that we can trust you."

Mary only smiled in response, for a moment she could not think of a sensible response. Fortunately Hung Like a Bear continued.

"Join us for the friendship ritual."

The sheriff's mind was still a bit hazy after the first ritual, but obviously she eagerly agreed. Things seemed to be going really well and she wanted to bring the matter to its completion. Some invisible hands groping her body and turning her on would not stop her.

Once they exited the tipi Mary was surprised to learn how little time had actually passed. She was expecting to come out in the middle of the night and it seemed that the sun had not yet set.

"First we're going to wash ourselves," Morning Wood told Mary.

Only now she realised that they were all heading towards a nearby river, the same one which was the reason for this entire operation. This place was located slightly higher up the river and there was a bend where the water was shallow and calm. Perfect for a bath indeed, but this was going to be a PUBLIC bath. Fortunately, because of her second job, Mary was not shy of public nudity. When everyone began to take off their clothes, so did she. Although stripping in open and seeing all those fit naked bodies did not help to suppress Mary's arousal. The surprises did not end there though.

A young woman approached the sheriff and Morning Wood introduced her as Smiling Beaver, the Chieftain's daughter; she would assist Mary in washing her body. With a mixture of politeness and confusion the sheriff agreed. She assessed that Smiling Beaver was eighteen or nineteen years old, but it was hard to be sure, since most Indian girls had somewhat masculine facial features; at least by Western standards. The girl was several centimetres shorter than Mary and had a somewhat boyish figure, with relatively narrow hips and small breasts. Overall she looked quite pretty and definitely fitter and more agile than the mature sheriff. Smiling Beaver smiled broadly, it was friendly and inviting. Mary returned her smile and things proceeded smoother from that point onwards.

The process was what it had been said to be - a bath. Although without a sponge as an intermediary it had some erotic feeling to it, especially to the already aroused sheriff. The girl's palms were petite, but firm. Mary definitely preferred men over women, but she would not mind being washed by Smiling Beaver on a regular basis; especially with soap included. The girl started at the sheriff's shoulders, she washed the sweat and dust down through Mary's broad back and full buttocks. She then squatted down and washed her legs as well. Smiling Beaver then walked around Mary, gathered water into her palms and poured it onto the woman's breasts. She said something in her tongue. From the direction of her gaze, the tone and context, the sheriff easily deduced that it meant something like: "Your breasts are so big." From that point onwards the washing process turned its nature to something more erotic. Smiling Beaver's petite palms caressed and fondled the soft flesh of Mary's boobs. The girl also gently poked the nipples which quickly became erect.

"Mhm," the sheriff moaned quietly when Smiling Beaver lightly squeezed her breasts.

The clients at her brother also loved her boobs, but neither seemed enamoured with them in such a manner. The girl continued to play with them for a minute or two, before finally returning to the job at hand. Mary was almost disappointed when her breasts were left alone. Smiling Beaver swiftly washed the rest of Mary's body. Both women had missed the fact that the group bath was coming to an end and people were beginning to return to the camp for the ritual. The sheriff had no idea what to expect, but she felt that it was going to be exciting.

Mary picked her clothes up with the intention of putting them back on. But she was still wet and had nothing to dry herself. More importantly, everyone else was carrying their clothes and walking back to the camp naked. Smiling Beaver urged her onward with a gesture and again the sheriff was glad that her second job taught her not to be shy of nudity.

Another fire was lit, this one in the open and much larger. Tanned animal furs were laid around the pit; Mary also noticed a few rugs which must have been purchased from the settlers. The sheriff did not need to be told verbatim to realise what kind of friendship the ritual was about. But for the moment the common nudity was treated quite casually. Led by Smiling Beaver, the two women joined Hung Like a Bear on one of the rugs. Mary was given a pipe and a clay cup with some drink; it had a novel intriguing smell. The sheriff was seated on the Chieftain's right on one of the rugs. On her right on the same rug sat Smiling Beaver. Further to the side sat Morning Wood on his fur. It was a completely different feeling to be sitting in their company when everyone was naked. Of course Mary found no reasons to complain.

The ritual began almost lazily. Hung Like a Bear started speaking, but Morning Wood did not translate it. Smiling Beaver put a palm on Mary's thigh, but the touch was friendly rather than erotic. When the short speech finished everyone shared a smoke and drink inside of their small circles. The sheriff remained passive, she drank or smoked when offered each good, but other than that she simply enjoyed the ritual. She also enjoyed the touch of Smiling Beaver's palm, which was gradually becoming more active. The girl gently caressed Mary's thick thigh, the circles she drew were becoming wider and eventually her fingers were coming closer to the moist spot between the sheriff's legs.

The pipe was again smooth and tasted really good, although Mary had a feeling that the herbal composition was different this time. The drink was surprisingly sweet and tasty. The brothel owner within Mary thought briefly that it would be a good basis for an alcoholic drink. She knew that the Indians did not use alcohol though. The little pot soon became empty, but Morning Wood quickly refilled it.

The sheriff was not surprised when another larger palm was placed on her right thigh; it belonged to Hung Like a Bear. She welcomed them both. Apart from the weird experiences during the first ritual not that much had happened to genuinely arouse Mary; but aroused she was. She suspected that both the pipe and the drink might have included aphrodisiacs of some sort, but at that point she simply did not care what the source of arousal was. Mary was horny and she liked it.

Smiling Beaver had a head start, so her fingers were the first to reach between the sheriff's legs. A single digit barely touched her clit, but it was enough to make her moan slightly.

"Mhm," the sound only encouraged her neighbours, not only the girl, but also her father and Morning Wood, who sat behind Mary and grabbed her breasts with both hands. He squeezed them lightly while Hung Like a Bear did the same to her thigh. The pipe and pot were gone, but the smoke from the fire thickened significantly; it did not impact the breathing though.