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There was the awareness that he might have simply as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how it all worked out. But he had had his fill and it was time to move on, perhaps 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' anyways! There was nought to do but deal with it, perhaps locate a few of his old loved ones, find his great-great-great granny when she was hot and young and score with her! That 'd mess up the timeline for sure! He understood his geography 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 a good idea to be hesitant and wary and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unclear and outlaws strolled the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough nation, he spent a week just meandering around, finding a few roaming livestock he assisted himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he figured out that in the future he would just purchase 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 sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the higher he went, however he wanted to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into new territory he assumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, perhaps even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Soon the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not authorizing of the weather condition change or the insistence of continuing the useless adventure. August needed to agree-- he was getting nowhere quickly. The mountain path seemed to wind on and on and on forever. So he struck off on another path that allegedly led downward. Now he was completely lost. Another week went by, he contravened of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and understood that he had a concussion.
August was not amused and became really wary. He wished his internal Device had some sort of ability to see things he himself might not see, or at least identify them, or something. He was at length able to relax the horse down, August strained to listen and spot for himself what had startled Tonto. He wanted 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, 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 lastly came upon a man. Flies were currently swarming and so August assumed that the man had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no method of reaching any physician. Compliance was not exactly complied to rapidly, the two teenagers did their finest to stall and carry 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 kid wore was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter crammed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Nothing required saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and proceeded in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the weapon deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he held on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, requiring him to enjoy 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 needed to come and position himself on the table and insert his dick into her mouth. The experience was unbelievable. Dakota was August's sort of man if he weren't so callous. She was further sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was nothing however still silence in the shack, only the crackling fire in the fireplace and the slapping balls versus Arlene's ass made the only noise. 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 disgusting task of licking Arlene's cum laden asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole tidy-- he jeered and pushed his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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