Surviving in the Old West

"There she lives, when you see her you will thank me I'm sure," she said.

The Coopers were not surprised when their house was invaded by these men, they had been waiting for it since they arrived.

"Where is she? Spat Katherine becoming more and more desperate and vicious, where is the little bitch?"

"We don't know, it's as simple as that. You can do to us what you like, we are old, but that won't make us know where she is." replied Bert Cooper.

Art made towards the fireplace and picked up a sepia photograph of the Coopers and Martha at a recent fair.

Art was stunned,

"Is this who we are talking about?" he asked Katherine, showing her the picture.

"That's her, she spat, wasn't I right eh? wasn't I right?" she said pleadingly.

Art decided he wanted this girl, he wanted her badly.

"Where does she keep her horse? asked the gang leader, take me there." he demanded.

After a visit to the livery stable and after issuing the same threats to Clem the livery man as he had given to Katherine Durkan, namely the gang rape of his young daughter if he didn't tell him what he wanted to know, Art had the information he wanted, he knew when she had left the town and which direction she was headed.

Katherine Durkan's daughter, was saved that day from an experience that would have haunted her all her days. Martha Petersen however had just been sacrificed in her place. Mavis Connors the wife of the town mayor didn't know it at the time, but her life too would change due to Katherine Durkan's actions.

Artie Speight let Katherine take her daughter away, now without a specific target he had another idea.

"Where does the Mayor of this shit hole live?" he demanded to know.

Emmett Connors was the ideal target to choose, if humiliation was the aim.

That night Mavis Connors the wife of the town mayor, was taken to her marital bed by a rapist and murderer. Her husband sat passively as Mavis simply went upstairs with her rapist as she knew that the only alternative was death.

Art had bathed that day, ridding himself of the dirt and grime of weeks in the saddle, so Mavis was spared the ordeal of sleeping with a man in that condition.

As Mavis stood naked before the stranger, her heavy pear shaped breasts reaching forward enticingly and her curly black triangle hiding the treasure below, Art dropped his clothes to the floor. Mavis did all but gasp. He hung long, thick and heavy between his legs.

Mavis wanted this over with. She climbed onto the bed, her breasts swaying and bouncing. She lay back and opened her legs.

Art moved in on her, his foreskin slowly peeling back on the hardening length as it slowly began to rise upwards.

What Mavis didn't know was that Art was experienced in the act of sex. His years of raping and whoring had taught him how to fuck, he wanted more than a quick bang.

Mavis was stunned when Art kissed her, it was a proper kiss, not forced and not aggressive, just simply a proper kiss. She allowed him to kiss her but that didn't last long, Art moved down her body paying lingering attention to her breasts and nipples before it suddenly struck Mavis what he was going to do.

Art Speight gently kissed, caressed and stimulated Mavis Connors' pussy.

Even at Mavis's mature years she had never experienced a man making love to her between the legs as skilfully as Art now did. His knowledge of what he was doing started to drive Mavis on.

In a surreal moment where a violent, murdering rapist showed her tenderness, he treated her pussy like the most delicate thing in the world, he drew her rapidly swelling lips into his mouth and gently sucked on each one in turn. His tongue would flick at her clitoral hood then return to her lips and her swelling, flowering, dripping, opening. Art would then return to her exposed clitoris which now protruded from it's covering and stood proud and visible, the hard pink little button seeming to pulse on it's own.

When the electric shocks started, Mavis Connors knew she was going to have a violent orgasm, so she tried to retain some dignity and respect. She managed to contain the short sharp gasps that were coming faster and faster, but when her orgasm finally exploded bursting forth all over Art Speight's mouth, tongue and face, Emmett Connors sat downstairs, was left in no doubt about his wife's climax.

Art moved up her body, his huge, hard eager cock looking menacing to Mavis. In her dreamy post-orgasmic state, Mavis opened her legs a little further and purred as the biggest cock she would ever have slid effortlessly into her. Her sodden vagina in its relaxed and satisfied state dealt more easily with Art's cock than she expected.

Mavis was a little disappointed when Art came inside her as quickly as he did, in her secret thoughts Mavis had wanted to orgasm again on this big manly length inside her.

There was time later.

When Art Speight slept, Mavis (without a thought of taking his gun or trying to escape, what would be the point?) deliberately cleaned herself up for him. She knew that he had not done with her and she wanted to be clean and fresh 'down there' for him when he wanted her again.

Mavis wondered about how she was acting with this rapist.

It was a very deliberate act of what? acceptance? submission? ownership? resignation to her fate? she didn't know, but she did know that she would give him whatever he wanted.

Throughout the night Art fucked her and slept intermittently. He had noted that very early in the rape that Mavis had offered no more resistance, she gave him everything he wanted.

When Art shocked her by asking rather than demanding, that she suck his cock to get him hard again, Mavis did not hesitate for a second before sliding his huge yet soft cock into her mouth.

She did what was required of her to the best of her limited experience and ability, Art offering advice on how he liked it throughout her sucking him, Mavis willingly following instructions.

Women like Mavis usually lay under their husbands passively, allowing them their marital rights. Now Mavis, whilst on top of Art, sitting wide legged astride him, reached for him when he slipped out of her and guided him back inside herself.

Mavis Connors came time after time throughout the night. The biggest cock she would ever experience, stretching and opening her, forcing her labia and her tight hole to it's limits. It seemed to stretch her sensitive inner walls to their utmost and the depth that Art plundered her with the long, heavy, throbbing length that he was violating her with, drove Mavis over the edge repeatedly.

She could not contain herself vocally, and her husband listened to every syllable that she groaned, moaned and screamed throughout her 'ordeal'.

She slept with Art, cradled in the crook of his arm, only to be woken at regular intervals to be fucked.

In the early hours of the morning Art Speight was woken in a very unexpected manner, Mavis was gently sucking his cock. Art pretended to be still asleep and lay back enjoying the slow blow job that Mavis was giving him. He watched quietly as Mavis licked his length, swirled her tongue around his swelling helmet, and slid her moist lips over him, taking him as deep as she could. However Art took most pleasure from the way Mavis would take it from her mouth and simply look at it. Art knew that how she cradled it in her hand and looked longingly at his huge length that she was a changed woman.

Mavis worked his heavy, thick foreskin up and down his cock and over his huge head and back down again, she watched and marvelled at the menacing piece of meat in her hand and in her mouth. She was in awe of the thing that had given her so much pleasure and kissed and caressed it like a lover.

Art knew he couldn't cum again for some time, yet his growing erection was making him interested again. When Mavis realised that he was now awake she unashamedly begged him,

"Oh God please, please fuck me some more."

It enticed him into her cunt for one last time.

When Art had battered her pussy violently, failing to cum himself but driving Mavis into very vocal raptures he left her.

Art Speight did not turn Mavis Connors from a shy wife to a slut wife in one night of fucking, (although at the point of one of the several orgasms she had had, Mavis fantasized about being taken along by the gang and either being Art's personal slut, or a whore for the whole gang, which duly sent her over the edge.) but what he did do, was to teach Mavis the absolute joy and ecstasy that could be had between a man and a woman.

Mavis realised that after laying under her man for her entire married life, that she now wanted more. What could be done in the marital bed and what pleasure could be achieved together, had shocked her and she wasn't the only one that was going to be shocked by it.

Mavis had been forced to suddenly identify and recognize her needs as a woman, she had been taught desire, hunger and need. She would now have a voracious appetite for the ecstasy that adventurous and liberated sex could give her.

Emmett Connors, had had the indignity of hearing his wife repeatedly 'raped' throughout the night. Later that day when left alone, Emmett could not get the image of another man inside his wife out of his head.

Mavis gave him two choices.

"You can put this behind you just as I am determined to do and we can move on, Mavis said, (secretly knowing that her 'ordeal' had not been the trauma she expected.) or you can move out."

"What do you expect of me?" asked Emmett.

Mavis knew, that although not equipped to service her needs like Art was, her husband was going to have to pleasure her regularly from now on and service her demands or she would find a man that would.

"Take me upstairs and I will show you." Mavis whispered.

That night and on subsequent nights Emmett Connors was taught by his own wife how to fuck her. At first he thought she was a disgusting harlot, but after several nights of incredible sex he finally awoke to what his wife had awoken to several days before.

As the Mayor and wife of the town, in public Emmett & Mavis Connors retained the mantle of authority, and retained the pious, virtuous and puritanical persona their position demanded. Behind closed doors however, Emmett accepted his new role as his wife's sexual servant. He obeyed orders in the bedroom and realised he was there simply to service his wife's newly awoken sexual appetite.

And he loved it.

In the town the carnage continued into the night. Artie Speight had been sated by Mavis as she gave him everything he wanted in bed. But Martha Petersen's picture had got into the mind of Speight and he had already given the order to be ready to ride in the morning.

They were going after Martha.

Martha had ridden constantly throughout the day and after only brief rests for her horse, she had continued through the night, in an effort to put as much distance between her the unthinkable. She had set of totally and utterly unprepared for such a journey, she had neither the clothing (an all important hat for example) for herself or the provisions for her horse. She was miles from town and beginning to realise her problems.

On the horizon Mat Payton watched her.

He had been watching her and steadily tracking her for hours.

Now was the time to move in, he could tell she was vulnerable.

Riding up to her slowly, he realised just how much trouble she was in. No hat, no food or water for either her or the horse. She was a sitting duck.

Martha saw his approaching and could do nothing to protect herself.

"Howdy Miss, can I help you any?" Mat asked.

In the next hour as they rode together, Martha, realising she had nothing to lose and also getting the sense that he wasn't the danger she imagined him to be, simply told him everything. They made camp for a while, whilst Mat kitted Martha out with a spare hat he had and he fed and watered both them and the horses.

Mat sensed from what Martha had told him that maybe they would come after them. For a couple of days they followed the well known route towards the next big town, but he knew that would be too obvious a path to take. As they came across a quite rocky area that covered a few square miles, he veered off. Crossing rocky ground would be difficult to track, although he knew that when the gang didn't pick up the trail when the terrain went soft again, that they would know that Mat and Martha had changed course.

Mat knew that he was only buying time.

Martha relaxed in Mat's company, she learned that he himself was only young at 20, but had led a much different life to her. Orphaned at a young age Mat had lived by his own hand and had learned to survive on his wits. She had come to realise that her life was in this boys hands and she found that she trusted him completely.

Mat provided for Martha in the following days, he shot rabbits from what Martha thought would be too far away. He used a long rifle fitted with a strange device on the top. Martha was amazed by the strange sighting device, which Mat then explained to her had been invented in 1835, she looked through it and was promised by Mat that he would teach her how to use it.

Mat gained that trust even more when they came across a stream.

"Oh how I wish I could bathe and clean the dirt and grime from myself," Martha said.

Mat pulled the horses up and simply said,

"Go on then."

He settled himself down about 50 feet from the bank facing the other way, pulled his hat down and made to have a nap. Mat knew that if he disappeared, that Martha would suspect he was watching, hidden somewhere, so he stayed in full view and made no attempt whatsoever to 'sneak a look'.

Martha quickly stripped and immersed herself in the cold refreshing water and when she was done she stepped from the stream onto the bank. Her already hard, firm breasts were solid with the cold, her pale pink, jutting nipples stood out like iron from her small areola, as the water fell in droplets from them. The icy water ran down Martha's flat alabaster stomach into her sparse pure blonde pubic bush, matting it together into one single line of hair. She stood on the bank and wrung her blonde hair of water, shivering she pulled her dress over her head and lay out all her other clothes which she had also washed in the stream, to dry.

She called Mat to come and sit by her and talk to her, the innocent virgin totally at ease with being naked under her dress, alone in the wilderness, with this boy.

They talked and laughed the whole time, they were totally at ease with each other, they were falling for each other.

The following day as they gained height on the mountain they needed to cross, Martha's world crashed again.

"I think they are following us," Mat said suddenly. Spinning around, Martha looked desperately around to see.

"I can't see anything," she said.

"There on the valley floor, nearly on the horizon," Mat said pointing into the distance. Martha could still see nothing, until Mat pointed into the distance and Martha saw the tiny plume of dust rising into the air.

"They are miles away, they will never catch us," said Martha hopefully.

"They will catch us up by this time tomorrow," Mat said to Martha's dismay.

They continued to climb until the light gave way to the night. They made camp behind a large boulder to hide the light of their fire from their pursuers. Looking down onto the valley floor they could see that the outlaws had also made camp and Martha involuntarily shivered at the sight of so many flickering torches in the distance.

She knew that they were coming for her.

A couple of hours later Mat sat alone, Martha had disappeared somewhere and had been gone awhile making Mat worried. He was just about to go and look for her when she appeared again. Martha stood in the firelight and taking a long fearful look down the mountain, she worked her dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Please make love to me," she whispered.

As she had stared down the valley at the flickering torches Martha had made a decision.

"If I am to be violated by those men, then at least I can choose who holds my virginity for ever. For the rest of my life I want to remember the first man to ever have me, with affection. I don't want him to be a violent rapist."

Mat was stunned by her face and her body, his own experience was only of rolling on and off a couple of old whores after simply relieving himself into them. He had never 'made love' himself.

Martha's body had a slight sheen of sweat from the warm evening, which glistened in the firelight. She walked across to Mat like a frightened rabbit and stood before him.

"God she is beautiful," thought Mat as he bent to tentatively kiss her.

Martha gasped into his mouth when she felt his hand gently cup her breast and graze across her bullet-like nipple. She was being touched for the first time ever and she was extremely comfortable with it and a little excited that it was Mat that she was with.

They kissed for awhile until Mat surprised her by bending down and taking her nipple into his mouth, it was unexpected, but sent a tingle down her body into her lower stomach. Martha had no idea whatsoever what occurred during love making, which made each and everything he did so shocking and exciting.

Mat lowered himself further and gazed at Martha's sparse blonde bush which concealed nothing. His erection was already painfully hard and the sight of her tight virginal slit, just made him fit to burst.

He leant forward and kissed her lips just once.

Martha was stunned,

"Did he just kiss me on my 'thing'?" she thought.

Martha had no idea about lubricating and vaginal secretions, had she known she would have been well aware that her inner vagina was becoming increasingly wet and ready for the transition into womanhood.

Yet one more thing, (the most important probably) that she didn't know, was what it was that a man had between his legs.

Instinct gave women of the age an idea of what a man had, but Martha had not had an upbringing that would encourage her to imagine men naked. She had never considered it at all. So when Mat stood before her, kicked off his boots, unbuckled his gun belt and trousers all together, took off his shirt revealing a hard muscular but youthful chest, Martha was beginning to tremble with nervous and excited trepidation.

Mat lowered his pants and Martha saw for the first time what she was willing to let enter her body. Mat had a good sized cock, neither huge nor small, but to a total innocent like Martha it looked enormous as it stood proud and hard.

The excitement temporarily turned to fear.

Mat kissed Martha again, his hot pulsing cock trapped between their bodies, Martha could feel the heat and the hardness and it felt as though it was alive as it throbbed against her body. Martha let herself be gently lowered onto the blankets, still kissing and caressing her breasts, Mat lay Martha down and slid his hand down across her stomach.

Martha felt butterflies in her stomach as she felt fingers so close to her intimate place and the realisation that he was about to touch her there. The fear, shock, trepidation, all seemed to evaporate in one go, as she felt the beautiful touch of gentle, loving and tender fingers slowly sliding across her rapidly swelling and moistening lips.

Mat let one finger slide between the lips parting them and allowing her virginal hole to be touched for the first time.

"I want you to be the first so badly," whispered Martha.

Being two relatively innocent youths they would learn the art of foreplay in time to come, but for now it was simply a matter of Mat taking her as instinct led. He knelt between Martha's legs, gazing first at her stunningly beautiful face, at her hard jutting youthful breasts and at her sparsely covered lips as they swelled and flowered revealing her tiny, pale pink, smooth little lips hidden between.