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There was the awareness that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how it all exercised after all. But he had had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device wound up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal however do with it, possibly find a few of his old family members, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography fairly well, the location of 2000, the geography of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be cautious and leery and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming livestock he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined that in the future he would just purchase one from a restaurant. Fishing was much better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, as well. When the very first snows started to fall his thoughts rested solely on the Ingalls. A great warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather turning on him the greater he went, but he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition modification or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting no place quick. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear.

Come the beginning of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had actually concerned call Tonto began going nuts. Raising up some and acting really silly. August was not amused and ended up being very careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself could not see, or a minimum of find them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had scared Tonto. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slid off into the rough, lurking, stopping briefly and listening . In one hand he bared a Colt revolver, the other hand a Bowie knife. He had a Springfield rifle with the horse.

There was nothing to hear however bugs buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came across a man. Putting down prone upon the ground with a substantial bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Thoroughly August stole out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still in fact alive. But barely. He had actually been shot in the chest and had actually lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to be alive for quite longer, August had no chance of reaching any doctor. The boy's ass muscles flexed as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost threw up as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and also licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then needed to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teens did their best to stall and bring on-- forcing Dakota to once again get a holt of Adam's young head and wrench him upwards ... then in a flash the lad's wool trousers were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the kid wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Nothing needed stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him well. STANDING on Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene.

Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark had to come and place himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The experience was unbelievable. Dakota was August's type of male if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was more sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly until he might go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls versus Arlene's ass made the only noise. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible job of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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