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There was the awareness that he could 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, possibly 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 happen. He was still mystified regarding how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do but deal with it, perhaps find some of his old relatives, discover his great-great-great granny when she was young and hot and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography relatively 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 hesitant and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty uncertain and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested a week simply meandering around, discovering a few stray cattle he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would simply order one from a dining establishment. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a entire. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, but he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not authorizing of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the useless experience. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere quick. The mountain course seemed to wind on and on and on permanently. So he struck off on another path that allegedly led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell versus a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and knew that he had a concussion.
August was not amused and became extremely cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself could not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and detect for himself what had actually alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and fatal. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slipped off into the rough, prowling, pausing and listening . 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 finally came upon a man. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the male had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no way of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teens did their best to stall and carry on-- forcing Dakota to once more get a holt of Adam's young head and wrench him upwards ... then in a flash the lad's wool pants were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the young boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Absolutely nothing needed 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 boy's rectum, sodomizing him nicely. 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 cock into her mouth. The ordeal was amazing. Dakota was August's type of man if he weren't so callous. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was absolutely nothing however still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls against Arlene's ass made the only sound. 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 revolting job of licking Arlene's cum laden asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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