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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, maybe 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 take place. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyhow! There was nought to deal however do with it, perhaps find a few of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great grandma when she was hot and young and rating 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 wise to be leery and careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he invested 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 buy one from a dining establishment. Fishing was much 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. When the first snows began to fall his ideas rested exclusively 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 brand-new area he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe 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 agree-- he was getting no place quickly. Another week went by, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
Come the start of his 3rd week out of Walnut Grove his horse he had pertained to call Tonto began flipping out. Rearing up some and acting very silly. August was not amused and became extremely wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see things he himself could not see, or at least spot them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had actually spooked Tonto. He wanted 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, 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 couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a male. 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 way of reaching any doctor. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to bring and stall on-- forcing Dakota to again 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 boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing needed saying, 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 kid'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 ordeal was incredible. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of guy. She was more sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was absolutely nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls versus 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 clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible task of licking Arlene's cum laden asshole, Dakota then simply wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- 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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