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There was the awareness that he could have simply as well remained with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. However he had had his fill and it was time to carry on, maybe mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly 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' anyhow! There was nought to do but deal with it, perhaps locate a few of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great grandmother when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his location relatively 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 a good idea to be wary and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and outlaws wandered the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough nation, he invested a week just meandering around, discovering a few 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 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 sporadic, the weather turning on him the greater he went, but he desired to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the futile 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 start of his 3rd week out from Walnut Grove his horse he had actually pertained to call Tonto started going nuts. Rearing up some and acting extremely silly. August was not amused and became very wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself could not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and detect for himself what had scared Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were deadly, vicious, and deadly. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, lurking, listening and stopping briefly . 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 already swarming and so August presumed that the guy had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no method of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their best to carry and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once more 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 young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. 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 anus, sodomizing him perfectly. 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 position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was amazing. If he weren't so callous, Dakota was August's kind of guy. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and non-stop up until he could go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace 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 laden asshole, Dakota then merely 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 young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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