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There was the awareness that he could have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out after all. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Strongly he felt that returning home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to happen. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to do however deal with it, possibly find some of his old relatives, discover his great-great-great grandmother when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew 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 wise to be hesitant and cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming 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 much better and he nailed one deer. Living in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, also. When the very first snows started to fall his ideas rested solely on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather switching 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 one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting no place quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, chased for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not entertained and became really careful. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself might not see, or at least find them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to listen and discover for himself what had actually scared Tonto. He wanted 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, 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.
August made a few more stalwart prowlings and lastly came upon a guy. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the male had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for very much longer, August had no method of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teens did their best to bring and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once again 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 boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Nothing was said. Nothing needed stating, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded 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 place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was extraordinary. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of male. She was further sodomized with Dakota's cock. There was nothing however still silence in the shack, only 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 pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the revolting job of licking Arlene's orgasm packed asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky cock up against the kid's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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