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There was the realization 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. 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' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, maybe locate a few of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great grandma when she was young and hot and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He knew his geography relatively well, the geography 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 cautious and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unclear and bandits strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a couple of stray cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he determined 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. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather turning on him the greater he went, however he wanted 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, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather condition modification or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting no place fast. 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 amused and ended up being really wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of capability to see items he himself might not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to soothe the horse down, August strained to find and listen for himself what had actually startled Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were fatal, vicious, and deadly. He desired no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting 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 man. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the guy had actually been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for extremely much longer, August had no method of reaching any physician. Compliance was not exactly complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their best to carry and stall on-- forcing Dakota to once more grab 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 kid wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed 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 gun deeper into the young kid's anus, sodomizing him perfectly. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, forcing him to view 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 had to come and place himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was amazing. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of man. With the six-shooter, Arlene was without delay odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's dick. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly till 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 pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it tidy! Dakota sneered. When Mark fought back to the disgusting task of licking Arlene's cum packed 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 cock up against the young boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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