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There was the realization that he might have just as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. He had had his fill and it was time to move on, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that getting back 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' anyways! There was nought to deal however do with it, possibly find some of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great granny when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his location fairly well, the location of 2000, the location of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be leery and careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent uncertain and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week just meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would just order one from a dining establishment. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss out on the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather turning on him the higher he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or possibly 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 experience. August had to concur-- he was getting no place fast. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and became very cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself could not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and discover for himself what had startled Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and lethal. He desired no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, prowling, listening and pausing . In one hand he bared a Colt revolver, the other hand a Bowie knife. He had a Springfield rifle with the horse.
August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a guy. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their best to carry and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once more grab 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing required saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him well. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, forcing him to see as cousin Mark installed Arlene and entered her. STANDING on Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene. He squeezed her nipples, nipped and bit them, creamed deeply into her pussy and jammed the barrel of the revolver up into her well deflowered fucked cunny, worked it around a bit and then made her suck on the barrel.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark needed to come and place himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was incredible. Dakota was August's type of guy if he weren't so callous. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly up until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls against Arlene's ass made the only noise. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pushed 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 clean-- he jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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