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There was the realization that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out after all. 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 getting back home in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to occur. He was still mystified as to how the Device ended up in his noggin' anyways! There was nought to deal however do with it, possibly locate a few of his old relatives, 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 geography fairly 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 cautious and hesitant and on guard-- Indians were still mighty unsettled and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain course took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a few roaming livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would just order one from a dining establishment. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Residing in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, too. When the very first snows began to fall his thoughts rested exclusively on the Ingalls. A good warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather turning on him the higher he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new area he assumed would be among the Dakotas, or possibly Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the insistence of continuing the useless experience. 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 after for miles by an even pissed off bear.
August was not amused and became really careful. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself could not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to find and listen for himself what had alarmed Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and fatal. He wanted no part of either among them. After backing his horse up a bit and securing him to a bush August slid off into the rough, prowling, 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 lastly came upon a male. Flies were already swarming and so August presumed that the male 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 precisely complied to rapidly, 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 trousers were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the young boy wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter stuffed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was said. Nothing needed stating, 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 rectum, sodomizing him nicely. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up securely, forcing him to see as cousin Mark installed Arlene and entered her. BASING 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 position himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was unbelievable. Dakota was August's sort of male if he weren't so ruthless. With the six-shooter, Arlene was promptly odorized. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's cock. He knocked her deeply and relentlessly up until he might go no more. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just 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 clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the revolting job of licking Arlene's cum laden asshole, Dakota then just wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he mocked and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my cock!
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