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There was the realization that he might have just as well stuck with the Ingalls, to see how all of it worked out after all. However 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 getting back 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' anyways! There was nought to deal however do with it, maybe find a few of his old relatives, find his great-great-great grandma when she was hot and young and rating with her! That 'd screw up the timeline for sure! He understood his location fairly 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 cautious and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unclear and bandits roamed the wildlands, too.

A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week simply meandering around, finding a few roaming cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would just purchase one from a restaurant. 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. His own grub was getting sparse, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, but he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or perhaps Iowa, possibly even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not authorizing of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to agree-- 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 became very cautious. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see objects he himself could not see, or at least detect them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to discover and listen for himself what had startled Tonto. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slid off into the rough, lurking, listening and pausing . In one hand he bared a Colt revolver, the other hand a Bowie knife. He had a Springfield rifle with the horse.

There was absolutely nothing to hear but pests buzzing. Absolutely nothing stirred. August made a few more stalwart prowlings and finally encountered a man. Putting down prone upon the ground with a big bloodstain on his backside. He didn't have any boots on, either. Flies were already swarming therefore August presumed that the man had actually been dead there for some time. Carefully August stole out of the rough and up to where the man lay. To his surprise, the man was still really alive. Hardly. He had actually been shot in the chest and had actually lost a lot of blood. He wasn't going to live for very much longer, August had no chance of reaching any physician. The young boy's ass muscles flexed as he strove NOT to pump into his cousin's mouth. Arlene retched, gagged, choked, and almost vomited as she slurped on the two cocks, the balls and as well licked up Mark's crack. Arlene then had to go back to the table and lay on it with her legs opened wide, hands to her side. Mark then had to go to her, on his knees, and lick her. Compliance was not precisely complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their best to bring and stall on-- requiring Dakota to once 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 young boy used 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 gun deeper into the young kid's rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up tightly, requiring him to watch as cousin Mark mounted 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 after that 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 unbelievable. 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, just the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls versus Arlene's ass made the only sound. 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 horrible task 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 jeered and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!

 

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