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Old 07-04-2010, 07:05 AM   #1
Jimmyl56
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Default Indian Summer

Work in progreSs. I have another edit of this ill post later that gets a bit farther.

Any suggestions or comments are welcome

This is an erotic western.

Indian Summer
Mary tugged the worn cavalry cap down over her very short and rather wiry blonde hair. She liked the effect. She wore blue denim jeans that were very snug on her muscular legs and tight butt. These she wore over her brothers old boots (that they were too big for her she ignored…they were for riding) and she had also wore one of his old and worn blue cotton shirts.
“Damn it Mary Elizabeth!” her Irish mother called out on seeing her. “You are looking like a boy again! How in the name of all the saints are you going to find a husband if you go around dressed like a cavalry scout?”
“The boys know I’m a girl!” Mary smiled. Indeed they did. She possessed a fine pair of legs and an ass that the jeans showed off better than any dress. Her young breasts were incredibly high and firm. She wore a girl’s undershirt and panties under her male attire. She stood about five foot four had blue eyes and beautiful and straight white teeth. Her German father ran a small ranch worked by her older brother and a couple of hands but he was also the local doctor.
She looked out over the wide east Texas plain that stretched out from the farm.
“I am going over to the Riggs farm, Mama. Joi and I are goin’ ridin’. I’ll probably be stayin’ for supper.” Mary spoke English without the trace of the accent of either immigrant parent.
“Well take these eggs over to the Riggs, then girl. You can’t show up for meals empty handed”
“Eggs! Mama! They’ll break! You know how fast I ride!” She was indeed a good rider, better than her brother. She could outrun some of the local boys as well. One boy she couldn’t outrun was Johnny Roberts. His dad ran the newspaper in the town and Johnny was smart but also good with on a horse on his feet and with his fists. He was the handsomest boy in town and he was very sweet on the eighteen year old blonde. Due to the two family’s status as the local people of learning, both families approved the match.
“You really should wait till your father and brother get back. I hate you riding all that way by yourself.” Her other intoned.
“I’ll be fine”. Mary said. She went to the stand by the door and opened a drawer and pulled out a small revolver. She put it in a leather shoulder bag and reluctantly took a dozen eggs from the kitchen in a wicker basket.
“These are gonna slow me down!” She said with a frown.
“Good! You ride too fast for your own good girl.” Her mother smiled.
Mary walked out the door saddled the small roan colt she liked and leaped into the saddle.
She turned the horses head to the west and galloped down the dirt road towards town and the Riggs farm.
“NOT SO FAST! Don’t break the eggs!” Her mother called. She was already out of earshot by the time her mother finished yelling.
Mary loved riding. She felt free and unfettered on horseback. Life in the west for women meant one thing. Marriage. She figured she would probably marry Johnny. He was sweet on her and they had even kissed and rolled in the hay a bit. She had slapped him when he had tried to unbutton her blouse after the 4th of July party. She was thinking she might let him unbutton it next time. She was eighteen.
The six mile ride was uneventful. Mary didn’t even break any of the eggs. Joy Riggs emerged from the house to meet Mary, wearing her riding outfit as well. She had on a pair of old brown trousers and a blue checked blouse. She wore a brimmed western hat but had thick honey gold hair that came down to her shoulders. She was tiny. Joy stood about four foot and ten inches tall. Even next to Mary she looked very short. She had full round hips and smallish upturned breasts. Her skin was a bit more tanned than Mary who was blonder and more fair skinned.
The two girls chatted about the school that was opening in town and of course about boys. They watered Mary’s horse and grabbed a canteen of lemonade and some ham and biscuits and cheese. They were going to ride out onto the plain to a small stream and make a quick picnic and ride back. It would take them most of the morning to get there and most of the afternoon to get back.
Joy’s parents were both in town getting supplies. The two pretty girls mounted their horses and turned them southwest and trotted off, chatting and laughing.

Deidre Muller dropped the platter she was cleaning at the sound of the front door being thrown open. She reached for one of the kitchen knives but turned to see the her husband looking wild eyed at the kitchen door. “Where is Mary?” Doctor Muller asked excitedly.
“She went over to go have a ride and a picnic with that little Riggs girl” Mary’s mother answered.
“Gott in Himmel” He said in his native tongue. “Comanches killed Gus Trimble and his wife and son! Burned their farm! Those murdering savages could be anywhere!”

Scar led the small party of four other warriors up along the backside of a small ridge. He was in his late 20s and already a renowned fighter. His lean red torso was unadorned other than with a single strip of rawhide threaded through a small piece of antler. He carried a captured army rifle and a wicked long knife with a bone handle. His long hair was unbound but a few locks were bound at the ends and one on his right side had a single eagle feather tied attached. He had gotten his name from a slash from a cavalry saber that divided the skin of his left cheek. He had been called Blue Elk as a boy but an attack by white soldiers on his village had left him no longer a child and given him his adult name. Scar hated the white soldiers and he now knew today was a fortunate day.

Down below riding without a care in the world he saw what appeared to be a slim soldier and a pretty young white girl! Dealing with both of them would give him and his braves much pleasure. The other Comanches crept up to the ridge to look. The braves smiled when they saw the two whites unaware of their presence. Scar motioned them down where they mounted their horses. The Indians rode slowly to the top of the hill and then with a whoop started after their prey.

Both girls heads turned at once at the dreaded sound. The five Indians were a half a mile away with dust kicking up around the flying hooves of the ponies. Mary instinctively dug her heels into the horse’s side but turned around to see that Joy had turned and frozen in terror. Turning quickly she rode back and seized the bridle of Joy’s older slower horse and looked at her best friend’s frightened face.

“Go Joy! Run!” Mary said. She drew the small revolver out of the saddle bag. She let Joy get a 50 yard head start and then took aim and loosed off two shots at the fast approaching Comanches.


The attacking Indians didn’t even slow at the faint sound of the pistol shot or the two puffs of smoke. Too far for a pistol to be effective. American Horse, Scar’s best friend closed up next to his leader and grinned. They both let out a bone chilling war hoop and closed in on the two whites.

__________________________________________________ ____________________
Mary’s fired another shot and then spurred her horse forward, desperately urging the animal into a full gallop. She prayed the dust being thrown up behind her would keep the Indians from realizing that Joy was riding off in a different direction. Hopefully she could trick the Indians into following her so that Joy might have a chance of escaping. Mary pressed her head into the horse’s neck and hung on, frantic with fear for her friend and herself.
The gambit failed, although Mary didn’t realize it at first. She kept her eyes forward, watching the terrain as her horse sped across the rugged plain. A misstep by her steed would mean certain death. Mary didn’t see American Horse lead two of the warriors off in pursuit of Joy, while Scar and another brave followed her. She lashed her horse’s shoulder with her reins, seeking every last ounce of speed from the animal. She wasn’t worried about his stamina; the stallion could run forever. Mary was afraid that her pursuers’ horses were faster.
She was right about the speed of Scar’s horse. The animal was incredibly fast and soon closed the difference between the Indian and the frightened girl. Sensing her pursuers were gaining, Mary risked a glance over her shoulder. She let out a small cry of fear as she saw the Indian was no more than a hundred yards behind her, and getting closer.
“Come on, boy!” she screamed as she kicked her spurs into the horse’s side.
The horse had heart, but Scar’s horse was just too fast. Within another half mile, Scar had closed the distance to less than ten yards and Mary knew she had to do something to throw him off. She turned toward the Indian and fired another shot at him. The bullet missed Scar by a couple of feet, and Mary flinched when he grinned at her and brandished a large knife. However, the Indian had instinctively reined his horse in a bit when he saw Mary raise the pistol, and that gave her a small opening. Without hesitation, she yanked on the reins and her horse turned sharply to the left. Scar galloped by, and by the time he was able to follow Mary again she had opened some distance between them.
All she accomplished, however, was to delay the inevitable. Within a minute or two, Scar was closing the distance again. Mary fired her last rounds without effect as it was almost impossible to shoot accurately on a horse galloping across such rough terrain. She tried changing directions again, but to no avail. All of sudden the Indian was galloping side by side with her, his painted countenance made all the more frightening by his fierce grin of triumph. Scar launched himself from his horse onto Mary and the two of them crashed to the ground, the Indian landing partially on top of Mary.
Scar had it all planned out. The slender trooper would be no match for him, and he would quickly pin him to the ground. First he would lift the white eye’s hair, taking time to make the scalping as painful as possible. By then, Bear Killer, who had fallen behind during the pursuit would have caught up to then. Together they’d strip the pony soldier and stake him out. Then Scar would gut him and leave him for the vultures to finish off. Scar hated whites, and he enjoyed making them suffer. He and Bear Killer would listen to the pony soldier’s screams for a bit, and then they’d go and deal with the white girl. The others would do nothing with her until he returned. It had been too long since he’d used a white woman. He and his band would enjoy her every way possible and amuse themselves afterwards by torturing her. Even if someone had ridden to the pony soldier’s fort, after he and his band had burned the ranch and killed the whites there, it would take a good three days to get there. It would be another three days before the pony soldiers arrived. And by then Scar and his band would be long gone. Chances were, the white soldiers would never catch them. They’d have plenty of time to amuse themselves with the white girl and decide her eventual fate.
The landing knocked the breath from Mary and she lay helpless beneath the Comanche warrior gasping for air. All sense of fear was driven from her as she fought to breathe. She wanted desperately to scream, to cry out for help, but all she could do was try to take in a breath. Scar rolled the helpless 18 year old onto her back. He knelt down on Mary’s shoulders, pinning her underneath him. Her cap had fallen off when she hit the ground, so he seized a handful of hair and pulled it up and away from her forehead. He stared down into his victim’s wide blue eyes, savoring the terror he saw in them.
Scar’s black eyes narrowed and he looked at Mary more closely. Then he looked at the clump of hair he was holding. This was not the hair of a male! Those were not a man’s eyes! Shifting his weight so he could slide down her body, Scar pressed the edge of his knife into Mary’s throat. The small blonde lay there, unable to take her eyes from her captor’s face. She could feel his thick member resting against her belly and the deadly blade of his knife against her slender neck, and she began to pray silently to herself. Scar’s thick fingers slipped between the buttons of her blue checked shirt and he ripped it open. A cruel chuckle slipped through his thin lips as he looked at the undershirt. The thin fabric of the undershirt tore easily, and Scar smiled at the sight of the girl’s high, firm breasts. Mary could breathe now, and she whimpered softly as the Indian cupped her right breast.
“See what we have here, brother!” Scar called to Bear Killer who had just caught up to them and dismounted.
Bear Killer laughed with pleasure and reached down to twist the nipple of Mary’s left breast. Mary bucked helplessly under Scar’s weight and cried out.
“Two white females!” Bear Killer said. “We shall have much pleasure from them.”
“Get me some rawhide strips,” Scar ordered.
Bear Killer went to his horse and retrieved some thin lengths of rawhide. They flipped Mary onto her belly and swiftly tied her hands behind her. Then Scar hoisted her easily and carried her to his horse, as Bear Killer caught Mary’s horse and brought it over. Scar settled Mary face down on his horse, enjoying the sight of her squirming helplessly on the sweaty back of the animal. He mounted, settling behind her and the two braves rode off with their captive. Scar tormented Mary for his amusement, tugging and pulling painfully on her breasts as they rode toward the prearranged rendezvous where they’d meet the other three warriors.
The ride took a bit over an hour, but the trio arrived at the dry gulch that was their meeting place without incident. Scar was pleased to see the other three there waiting for them with Joy. The elfin young woman was astride her horse, still dressed, hands tied in front. Tears rolled down her innocent face as she saw her friend helplessly trussed and half naked. Mary choked back a sob as she saw her friend.
“This is all my fault,” she thought. Sensations of guilt and fear filled her mind. How would they ever escape? Would someone realize they were missing before long and come looking for them?
She didn’t want to think about what the Indians might do to them.
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Old 07-05-2010, 12:12 PM   #2
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Cant wait for the rest! I like what you have done so far!
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Old 08-04-2010, 02:45 AM   #3
naor2a
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I love stories of the wild indians. I hope you will go on soon!!
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Old 08-15-2010, 01:09 PM   #4
oldrod
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Default wild..wild..indians!

Nice scene setting with promise of what's to come. Make 'em really wild indians.
My tastes would have had the victims stripped roughly immediately, then bound,gagged, and carried off naked. Bouncing, sweating, draped over the horses, their bodies rubbing against the naked bodies of the braves, they would glimpse dribbling erections, and know what they were in for!

Good job. Anticipating the sequel.
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Old 01-09-2011, 05:47 AM   #5
Jimmyl56
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OH, I didnt know anyone had read it

Hit me a mail here and we can talk about it more if you like this
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Old 01-15-2011, 01:47 PM   #6
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great beginning to the story hope to see more soon!!!!
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