The Cowboy vs Big Cock Indians

Summary: The shocking truth of the old west finally told.

Note 1: This is a special western themed story created by the lovely Black Randi.

Thanks to Tex Beethoven, Black Randi, thor_p, Robert, and Wayne for editing this strange attempt.

PS: Western is not my forte so please don't judge me too much on this story.

Cowboys & Big Cock Indians

History is written by the winners. Most of the time, they are also the oppressors.

The winners and the oppressors have been doing the recording (and the cover-ups) throughout recorded history, and perhaps no more poignant hidden history exists than the truth of the American frontier.

Although there is truth to many of the stories of the Wild West, there's one secret that's been kept hidden for over two hundred years.

This story has just finally come to light because of the paintings of a Canadian aboriginal artist. His work condemns the past and the treatment of Indians, First Nations, aboriginals or indigenous people (whatever politically correct or incorrect term you wish to use). The condemnation is sometimes complex, such as the abstract paintings like "Hope," "Love" and "Struggle for Balance," or bluntly honest about the long term negative impact of the white man on the red man in his heartbreaking depictions of children stolen from their families by church officials and Canadian Mounties in "A mother's Grief," or "Study of the Removal of Children."

It was his provocative artwork about the western frontier (in both Canada and the United States) that opened the floodgates of curiosity about our hidden past.

The works of this artist illustrate decades, even centuries, of a hidden truth recently coming out (pun intended) as ancestors speak of and reveal a history long forgotten in North American society.

I speak of the truth of the gay and merry old West, as well as the truth of cowboys and Indians and the true nature of the games they often played.

These paintings are provocative, and yet clearly tell the untold story of Cowboys and Indians, where the cowboys were the bitches and the Indians the dominants, including "Pilgrim's Progress," where an Indian with a substantially large cock is clearly unimpressed by an effeminate white man with a much smaller but erect dick, a symbol of the true hierarchy of the red man's superior cock size (This comparison foreshadowing the 21^st century, where the inadequate white man has now become completely obsessed with black cock, big black cock).

The painter offers political statements such as "Cree Master," where a bare-assed Canadian Mountie is being spanked by an arrogantly naked Cree man, and "Portrait of the Artist as Hunter," where an Indian is on the hunt for buffalo and white ass, and the taboo-breaking "Sacred Vows," where a white cowboy who is naked from the waist down, with an obvious white substance coating his buttocks, is begging his Indian stud to stay instead of leaving on his white horse (the message being that once you've been sodomized by a big-dicked red man you will do anything to continue on as his white bottom).

Then there is the shocking, "Red man teaches white man to ride bareback," where a white cowboy is on a horse while an Indian rides behind him on the horse, astride two mounts (if you get my drift).

Equally shocking, is "Ceci n'est pas un pipe," where a cowboy is bent over a tree with his pants around one ankle and his rifle resting beside him as an Indian anoints him with bear grease in preparation for sodomizing him.

There were others, too, but none sparked more controversy than the visual of American hero, Daniel Boone, on his back, his legs spread wide open by a dominant Indian who is slamming his dominant cock in his ass, and seems to be in heaven, in the painting, "Daniel Boone's First View of the Kentucky Valley."

Once these paintings were released at an exhibit in Toronto, the truth (and the outraged denials) went viral.

Secret histories of cowboys fucking other cowboys were already out there: almost every gang of desperados had what they called their pussy boy, the youngest recruit, whose purpose was to serve as a girl substitute and take cock after cock in his man pussy.

No one knew, except the ancestral Indians who had been silenced by treaty and threat.

This exhibit changed everything.

Questions were asked.

A consistent theme emerged.

Here is the story.

*****

Although there were widely scattered towns in the old West, they were few and far between.

These towns were havens of sin as cowboys found a brief reprieve from the loneliness of the frontier.

They drank.

They fought.

They fucked female prostitutes.

When they spent night after night with no company except other men, or even existing on their own on the dry plains, well, things changed, standards dropped and bigger men found smaller men to utilize for their own personal pleasure (really, an early version of the hierarchy of modern day jail life, except the perp was then known as Tex, instead of Bubba).

Although in today's society, white men are often submissive cock suckers and/or bottoms for big black meat, the truth is that in an earlier century white men were submissive bottoms for big red meat (back then only irrefutable sluts would ever stoop so low as to suck cock. Getting your cock sucked cost more than vaginal or anal sex), but men taking it in the ass was very common, although not talked about.

Also untold, the red man was the dominant man of the old west.

The white man was trying to gain control and eventually would succeed, due strictly to sheer numbers, better weapons, measles and influenza, but in the early days of the Wild West it was obvious the white man was unable to resist the glorious beauty of a red man's cock.

This is the story of one of these men.

John Bullet was an old school cowboy and gunslinger, heading west. He was very good looking and made the ladies swoon whenever he passed through a town, often sleeping not only with the virginal daughters of men of importance, but sometimes even with their wives. John had learned early on that good looks, a reputation for a quick finger and a big dick were all you needed.

When on the trail between the towns, as he had an insatiable sex drive, he would often end up fucking other cowboys. The bigger the cowboy he could bend over and fuck, the more enthralling. The only activity more exciting than seducing a man's wife or daughter was topping a virgin man's ass, and the ultimate thrill was tapping a sheriff.

That's what John was doing at the moment, ass fucking a sheriff twice his size, really slamming into him, loving when he could transform a masculine man into a whimpering girly girl. They always protested at first, but then always ended up squealing like hogs in heat.

John was so into the girlish sounds coming from his latest conquest, not to mention his tight fucking virgin asshole, he didn't notice when he was suddenly surrounded by Indians.

Chief Red Bird was amused. For all the power white men tried to assume, their weakness was always the same: sex.

White men were led by their tiny dicks, and that made them vulnerable.

White men also had an inferiority complex that always emerged whenever they participated in a cock size contest with an 'inferior' red man, a contest the white man always lost.

Hidden beneath the bravado of the white man's manifest destiny, beneath the big weapons they usually couldn't handle, was the truth: to a man they shouldered a massive insecurity about who they really were.

The truth, so obvious, was that white man's slavery of black men and his attempt to eradicate the red man were all based on his fear that the truth of his inferiority to other races would one day be discovered.

John loved a tight virgin ass, especially when the muscular guy who originally screamed in pain eventually began to moan like a little girl and enjoy the rugged roundabout.

Chief Red Bird nodded to his tribe and they raised their arrows at the two white men. The chief then made his menacing war cry, one that sent fear through many white men and women, a war cry that usually meant death and scalping to white men.

John froze, his cock still buried deep in the groaning sheriff. He looked around and saw eight Indians, seven with nocked arrows aimed directly at him.

The sheriff's eyes went wide as there was no bigger humiliation than being caught in this position, pants at his ankles, bent over and with a cock in his ass, and worse, he'd been shockingly enjoying it, as was evident not only by the weird feminine sounds escaping his mouth, but also the fact his four-inch cock was rock hard. Plus, he recognized Red Bird right away and knew that surviving this chance meeting was unlikely.

John cursed himself as his gun was at his ankles and any quick dive for it would likely be countered by a flock of deadly arrows.

Chief Red Bird got off his horse and strutted over to the white men.

John pulled out, his seven inch cock the biggest of any man's he'd ever seen.

Chief Red Bird saw the white cock and was impressed; it was much bigger than most white men he sodomized, yet still a baby pecker in comparison to his own almost ten-inch cock.

The red man didn't say a word, just pulled his big cock out of its sheath.

The sheriff's eyes went wide over the impossibly big dick at which he was staring.

John looked down and gasped. This was substantially bigger than his own dick, which was already legendary for both its length and girth, but his paled in both regards when it came up against that of this face painted chief.

Chief Red Bird glided silently behind the bent over sheriff and slammed his dick home: He loved hearing white men scream, first with pain and then later with pleasure as they became cock addicts to this dominant red man.

The corn-holed sheriff screamed as he was impaled by the massive cock, new pain returning that had faded once his asshole had gotten used to, being sodomized by the legendary Long John Bullet.

John was shocked, first at the massive cock adorning the Indian Chief, but also by how he used it to take control.

As Chief Red Bird roughly fucked the sheriff's ass, he looked at John and savoured the look of shock on his face, a look of shock so many white men displayed when they first saw his cock, sucked his cock or were fucked by his cock. What this naked cowboy should have felt was utter fear, but he didn't. Why? Because like all the other back-door cowboys before him, his true nature, his true calling was yet to be awakened, his fated role as a submissive fuck toy for red man cock was still dormant.

The sheriff begged the red man to stop, the humiliation of being sodomized much worse when it was being done by a red man, his people's despised enemy.

John, on the other hand, couldn't stop staring at the Chief, at his huge cock, at how it was dominating the sheriff. He couldn't explain why, but it was turning him on.

The Chief waved to two of his warriors, who both lowered their weapons, got off their horses and walked over.

Chief Red Bird pulled out of the Sheriff's gaping asshole, and the two warriors wordlessly released their cocks and moved in front of and behind the well fucked sheriff.

One replaced the chief's cock with his own almost as big, cock in the white man's ass. The other shoved his cock in the sheriff's mouth where the term split-roasted began, as he was skewered like a pig, although over time the term would evolve to spit-roasted: unfortunate, since the original term was more accurate, the sheriff was split in two when used by two.

John finally spoke as the Chief turned to him, his erect cock pointing directly at him, too, a cock he couldn't take his eyes off of. "We can work out a trade."

The Chief, who spoke fluent English, having learned it from many of his earlier white man conquests, including the legendary Daniel Boone, as well as many cowboys, sheriffs and bounty hunters (they were his favourites), said, "That is exactly what I have in mind."

The Chief pointed to the ground.

John pleaded, even as he couldn't take his eyes of this majestic cock that seemed to have robbed him for the first time ever of his control, "Please, no, I can get you a dozen beautiful white women."

The Chief did not find white women beautiful. He found the entire white race ugly. Fucking white men did provide him pleasure, but it was more about complete humiliation, about revenge for what white man had done to his land, to his people. He chuckled, as he grabbed his biggest weapon smugly, "I can get any white woman I want."

John imagined that was true, as he tried to tear his eyes from the biggest cock he'd ever seen.

The sheriff, meanwhile, was mortified at having two Indian cocks sliding in and out of him. An hour ago he'd been close to his biggest arrest ever: John Long Bullet. Before he knew it, the tables were turned and he was being sodomized for the first time by the smaller man. Now it was even worse, he also had a cock in his mouth for the first time, and likely after these Indians were done with him he'd be scalped.

"Ground now," Chief Red Bird ordered gutturally, looking forward to putting this big dicked white man in his place, showing him there is always someone bigger (although the Chief himself had never met anyone bigger).

John looked at the Indians on horseback with arrows still aimed right at him. He looked at the well-built sheriff being used like a cheap slut, he looked back down at the Chief's massive hard dick, in awe at its sheer size and its ability to captivate him completely, then he felt his knees give out and lower him to the ground.

Chief Red Bird loved watching the confusion in a white man's eyes; he loved seeing a white man dropping in front of him; he loved when the white man leaned forward and accepted his cock in his mouth.

John knew he was fucked, and likely going to be fucked, but he also knew that by obeying the Chief he would stay alive longer, and hopefully get an opportunity to shoot his way out of this. His gun was underneath him, and potentially within reach if he played his cards right. Still, he was confused by an odd feeling inside him; before he shot anybody he wanted to feel what this cock felt like in his mouth.

The sheriff couldn't believe the pleasure he was gradually beginning to feel, his tiny cock rock hard, his mind blank as he had two Indian cocks in him. Was he disgusted? Yes! Was he mortified? Yes! Was he completely turned on? Yes!

"Suck me, cowpussy," Chief Red Bird ordered, always making it clear he was the only real man in this situation.

John felt the humiliation course throughout him as he opened his mouth and did the one thing so degrading he didn't even make his sissy cowboys do; he sucked cock, Indian cock. As the hard cock filled his mouth, his usually hard cowboy persona faded away and his hitherto unknown submissive feminine persona replaced it. He wanted to please this great chief, red cock his new totem, so completely hypnotic.

Chief Red Bird watched the dominant cowboy become just another white fuck toy for him and, if he didn't kill him when he was done with him, a fuck toy for the entire tribe.

The sheriff was feeling pleasure now he didn't know existed, the cock in his ass reaching depths he hadn't known existed, stimulating his insides in ways he didn't know existed, his own cock feeling like it could explode at any second.

John had only had his cock sucked a few times, always by prostitutes, or daughters or wives of prominent townsmen, but as soon as the big Indian cock was in his mouth, he instinctively knew what to do. He slowly bobbed back and forth, trying to get used to having a cock, a huge Indian cock, in his mouth.

Chief Red Bird ordered, after a couple of minutes of sucking, "Suck-um faster, paleface cock sucker." He could have aced a college English exam, but in situations like these his noble savage persona seemed to instill more fear and respect in his man-sluts.

Being called such a name would have usually meant someone was instantly dead, yet as John obeyed, sucking faster, he realized that title was true. He was a cock sucker. He loved the feeling of having a big cock in his mouth.

The sheriff moaned on the cock in his mouth as he felt hot cum spray up his asshole, the feeling utterly exhilarating. Not even thirty seconds after one big Indian dick left his ass, another replaced it. Thirty seconds after that he felt cum shoot into his mouth and glide down his throat. He could barely taste the gooey cum as the cock kept pumping in and out of his mouth. When the cock left his lips, he begged, "Oh yes, fuck my ass harder," wanting to feel the big Indian dick really pound his shit hole.

The Indian in his ass laughed as he watched another white man become a complete slut for Indian dick. He grabbed the sheriff's wide hips and really slammed into him, making the sheriff squeal with pleasure.

Seconds later the squealing stopped as his mouth was again filled with big Indian dick.

Chief Red Bird pulled out of his new white slut and ordered, "Go bend over beside your friend."

Sucking cock was one thing, and truth be told he was really enjoying it, as his still hard cock proved, but taking it in the ass, that was a completely different thing. "Please, let me suck your cock, sir." the legendary big dicked white man begged.

Chief Red Bird laughed at being called 'sir'. He shook his head, "Get the fuck over there and present your ass for my big arrow."

Throughout all this, John had been so captivated by the cock he had completely forgotten about his gun. With three of the seven involved in sex, two recovering from sex and only two with arrows still aimed at him, this would be the ideal time to try and shoot his way out of this.

Chief Red Bird could read the white man's mind, and before John even reached for his gun he warned, "Move for that gun and I will fire it up your ass. Take off your pants and boots."

John sighed, knowing he was fucked, literally. He reluctantly obeyed, getting undressed and walking over in only a shirt before he bent over and watched, for the first time, the double fucking of the sheriff. Hard to believe that fifteen minutes ago he was simply fucking the sheriff himself, never imagining how things would turn so quickly.

The sheriff was in complete sexual euphoria as he had two massive cocks turning him into a fuck toy. The pleasure was overwhelming and he needed his ass fucked harder. He allowed the big Indian cock to slide out of his mouth as he begged, dignity no longer mattering, "Please fuck my ass harder."

The Indian obliged, deciding to show this white boy who was the real sheriff of the Wild West.

John watched the sheriff enjoying himself. He'd never seen a man whimper and moan so much. As he bent over beside the sheriff he'd been fucking such a little while ago, he wondered for the first time in his dominant life what it would feel like to have a cock in his ass.

Chief Red Bird moved behind his latest conquest, one that was more exhilarating because he was not only obviously a virgin, but also a dominant, who was being put in his rightful place as a submissive to red man cock.

John's body tightened as he prepared for the pain he was confident was coming, having frequently provoked the screams from the other end, but he also was oddly anticipating the shift that always happened as over time the pain turned into pleasure.

Chief Red Bird ordered, wanting to really humiliate the white man, "Beg for my dick."

John didn't want to and actually shook his head no.

Chief Red Bird reminded him, as he rubbed his massive dick up and down the white man's ass cheeks, "Either beg for my arrow in your ass or prepare for arrows to end your life."