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THE GEORGIA PEACH III - The Steel Dove

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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Chapter 6 – Outside the James’ home, St. Joseph, Missouri – 8am 25th May 1865


“We wish you well Kate, but I do not think we will see you round these parts again. My money’s on Terrell.” Squinting his eyes, Frank James looked through the rising sunshine at the young girl mounted on the black Stallion. Blankets strapped to its flanks, Winchester and Colt holstered and a Bowie Knife tucked into a leather belt that wrapped tightly around her skirt.

“You’re one crazy girl, but me and my brother are obliged for your exquisite company Miss Clarke.” He grinned and she smiled back, before kicking her booted heels against the Stallion and turning to leave.


******


The rains came on her second day of riding, just as Jesse had predicted, and they arrived with a vengeance that soaked everything though, including Kate, within minutes.

Pulling the thin poncho over her body and hooking the Stetson down low she ducked her head into the driving downpour, and headed for the old Indian funeral stones, high in the mountains at a spot that looked out over the landscape for miles. It was where Frank and Jesses had told her to go.

It took another hour to reach the shelter of the hollowed-out caves near the stones, but horse and rider eventually eased under the protective outcrop of rock and Kate breathed a sigh of relief. The rain was driving across the entrance to the cave, but inside they were well protected.

A fire would have been heaven sent but she resisted the temptation to light one. This was the trail of the Missouri Bushwhackers and she had no idea how near she was to them … or not, but she did not wish to be detected. Instead, having tethered her mount, Kate crouched down into her blanket and closed her eyes.

She had no plan, no strategy, and now, with a howling storm blowing, she began to have doubts. It had all seemed so simple back in St Joseph. Acquire the weapons, get a horse, then pick up Terrell’s trail and kill him. She had never thought it through as far as what to actually do if or when she found him. If he was to appear right now at the entrance to this small cave Kate had no idea how she would react.

She pulled the brim of her Stetson down further and gazed out into the darkness, wishing right now that William was here with her. She had had plenty of time to grieve him as she took over a week to get from Wakefield’s Farm to the James’ home. Laying in a covered wagon, hallucinating through exhaustion … she had dreamed of William and happier times gone by … but every time she woke, her living nightmare had returned.

Frank had been right, she must be crazy. What chance did she have against Terrell and his mob? She had courage for sure, but lacked anything by way of expertise.


******


The rains had stopped and the storm eased when Kate opened her eyes. Somehow, she had slept solid for eight hours without moving and now her bladder screamed for relief. The day was already bathed in sunshine and the warmth crept into through the opening to the cave as Kate squat in a corner, her cotton drawers round her ankles and her skirts pulled up, while the Stallion watched with interest.

Taking a handful of coarse grass she wiped the drops away as best she could and stood up … then froze. Coming towards her were two Indian braves.

Indians! Fuck she hadn’t even considered encountering any savages … They were likely renegade Chickasaw, angry natives avoiding the reservation and still fighting the US Government. Kate guessed that the fact she too was fighting the Federal State would count for very little in their covetous minds should she claim to be on their side!

But in they came, lean, muscular bodies silhouetted against the bright opening to the cavern.

Kate could not recall ever moving so quickly in her life. With her drawers still locked around her ankles she threw herself sideways and fumbled for the Colt, having temporarily discarded the belt prior to her ablutions. The Winchester was closer to hand and she grabbed at it as the braves spotted Kate and came hard at her. She squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened and panic set in. It quickly registered that the bullet must have jammed in the barrel!

The full weight of one of her attackers crashed into her and knocked her sideways. His powerful grip closed around her wrist and caused her to drop the rifle, which, along with the Colt was gathered up by the second warrior.

Kate could smell the musky odour of his crotch as he pinned her down, his muscle-bound thighs astride her neck.

“Now I take you back to Chickasaw camp with me white woman,” he grunted in a heavily pigeoned English, and Kate stared up at him helplessly. He reached casually behind his strident position and closed his fingers onto one breast. He twisted hard and Kate groaned.

The brave laughed, “We take you alive and I promise that at my camp you will scream for many days before we allow you to die!”

Strangely Kate felt no fear. Only a calm acceptance that she had failed in her quest, and that she was now going to pay for her mistakes. In a single moment she tried to prepare herself for the rape and torture that would come her way, and in that brief time the face of the warrior that towered above her exploded into a welter of blood and bone as he was hurled sideways away from her prostrate body.

The second brave turned quickly and was similarly dealt with. Confused about what was going on, Kate pulled herself into a sitting position and pulled her drawers up.

“Some shots huh lady? Took this one’s head right off his shoulders! Cole Griffin at your service ma’am.” The man facing her dressed in dusty clothes, sporting a thick leather waistcoat, took a somewhat extravagant bow.

“The Winchester … the bullet … it stuck … I …” Kate blurted out her words, “It jammed, or I would have had them otherwise.” Kate responded trying hard to keep the hysteria out her voice.

“Otherwise don’t count Miss …”

Kate looked him hard in the eye and said, through an expressionless face, “Kate Clarke,” she held out her hand.

“Lucky for you I came around when I did, Miss Clarke. You minded to tell me what you are doing out here in territory riddled with the Chickasaw that won’t go to their reservation, and Bushwhackers who still think the war is going on?”

Kate simply stared at him and said nothing. She picked up her gun belt and refastened it low on her hips, making sure he saw the Colt. She did not trust this stranger who had appeared from nowhere, she could not afford to.

“Okay have it your way Miss Clarke. If you want to eat breakfast with me, there are trees and a small stream ten minutes ride away. We can set a small fire without been seen.” His eyes widened in hope. Cole Griffin clearly wanted the company of a pretty girl … it had been a long time.

Kate hadn’t really eaten for over a full day and her stomach was screaming for food. She nodded.


To Be Continued ...
A fine chapter. Rich, visible description and interesting plot twists.
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Chapter 7 – A small clump of trees in the Ozark Mountains, Missouri – 9 am 25th May 1865


They soon reached the trees and hitched their horses. Kate set about collecting wood and Griffin unloaded a huge frying pan from his sizable saddle bags.

“Two-day old bacon,” he said with a grin, “Tasty as anything!” The simple thought made Kate’s mouth water.

It took just minutes to get the fire started and Kate watched as her new found companion dropped the bacon into the pan. It began to spit in its own fat and the smell was glorious. Griffin tossed more rashers in and then poured two tin cups of coffee from the small pan he was boiling the stream water in.

Kate had lived a lavish lifestyle in her younger years. Sumptuous breakfasts, and feast-like dinners, waited upon hand and foot. But never had she welcomed the smell of hot bacon and coffee as much as she did right now!

“You need to be careful Miss Kate Clarke,” Griffin said as they ate and drank, “This land is dangerous, and Terrell’s Bushwhackers are hereabouts too.”

Hearing that was music to Kate’s ears, but she gave nothing away, preferring instead to say, in spite of her upbringing, “They can go fuck themselves.”

Cole laughed at her cursing, and then looked her in the eye. “You want to fuck with me?” His tone was filled with hope, his voice dry.

Catherine would have run a mile, but Kate just nodded slowly. “You know you stink Mister Griffin,” she grinned, “But I guess I do owe you.”

“That’s a ‘yes’ then is it my lonesome little mountain girl?”

By way of answer Kate put down her empty plate and almost empty coffee mug and began to pull her shirt over her head, hearing Griffin’s hiss of inhalation as her naked hard-tipped breasts came into view. “Like I said Cole, I owe you big-time, so I will put up with your stink if it pleases you.”

Griffin drew closer, watching intently as she toed off her boots and pulled down her skirt and drawers. Once she was naked, she looked across the fire at him. “How do you want me Mister Griffin, kneeling or laying on my back?”

The man grinned a lascivious and savage smile. “I reckon you might change your mind if n I really told you true,” he said quietly.

Kate eyed him sharply. “I said that I owe you Mister Griffin,” she replied with a small tremor in her voice. “So, tell me what you want.”

He nodded, “Fair enough Kate Clarke,” was all he said as he stood and walked over to his saddlebags. She watched as he took out several coils of rope.

“What … what are you going to do to me, Mister Griffin?” Kate sounded wary now. “You … you do not need to tie me up, I told you I would pleasure you, and I will.”

Cole Griffin chuckled, “But this is the way I like it Miss Kate. Can’t seem to get proper excited over a girl, even one as purty as you, unless I got ‘em tied down. You gotten scars already from a whip Miss, and I’m guessing you been treated rough before. So, you gonna play along or …”

Kate pulled her knees up tight to her chest as she digested his words. She had indeed suffered in this way before but what Griffin was suggesting seemed different to the torments that Sampson and Shepherd had inflicted upon her. She didn’t think that Griffin would really hurt her, and she did owe him her life.

She looked up at him and nodded.


Chapter 8 – One particular tree in the Ozark Mountains, Missouri – 9:40 am 25th May 1865


But minutes later she was very much less sure of her decision. Griffin had tied her standing, naked, with her back to a young tree. Her wrists and ankles had been drawn backwards and secured behind the narrow trunk so that she was bent backwards in a painfully stretched bow. Grinning at her naturally suppressed groan of protest, Griffin reached between her open legs and under her body, and slowly inserted a smoothly, whittled length of wood, similar to the sedile at the whipping post, and greased with bacon fat, into Kate’s twitching anus.

“Ngghhhhhhh …” her words were rendered unintelligible as the phallus was rooted deep into her bowels.

“You keep that nice and tight inside that firm little ass of yours Miss Clarke, no matter what …” he growled, “If n you don’t then this will seem like a little playtime. Understand me girl?”

Kate nodded, swallowing hard. This promised to be much more than she had bargained for, yet she could not deny the excitement that burgeoned in the pit of her stomach, as this tall, strong man had her tied and helpless!

Griffin grinned again. “Good,” he replied, with pleasant humour, as he produced a peeled willow switch that he had managed to find from somewhere around.

Moving the palm of his left hand slowly over her bare, naked pussy … delighted to find her shaved like this, he grinned. Then his arm moved swiftly and the air hissed.

“Aaaaaargh,” Kate groaned as the first thin red line of torment formed across the tender flesh of her belly.

“Wanting to change your mind?” grinned Griffin.

Kate was in a daze, but she shook her head. She did not want to be whipped, but equally she felt the need to pay off her debt.

Griffin chuckled and raised the switch again, “Good girl,” he replied, his tone heavy with lust. “It’s been a long time since I had anything near as good as you to play with!”

“Nnnnngh, nghhhhooooo, arrrgggghhhh” Gasped Kate as the cruel willow switch whipped three times in quick succession across her taut breasts, the third one catching her right nipple and splitting the aurole to draw a thin line of blood.

Kate was panting heavily in this damned stretched position. Her body, supported only by the tight ropes, was already cramping into an agonised contortion.

This lust filled sadist of a man said nothing, but came close with set face and twinkling eyes, bending to take the bleeding nub of flesh into his mouth, licking up her blood as it dripped from the small nipple wound. Without taking his mouth from her flesh Griffin reached down and slipped two fingers into her pussy …

“Mmmm, they went in easy Miss Clarke, maybe you like this more than you are letting on?” His laugh preceded her gasp.

“Oh!” She panted, as his digits sought out her clitoris, exposing the rapidly swelling nub from its fleshy sheath, sending her nerve ends flaring!

Griffin fumbled with his filthy pants and before Kate could grasp what he was about to do, her hips were gripped and she felt him slide into her pussy, filling her, opening her.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” Griffin said, through tight lips, as he rammed himself deep into her body, to quickly settle into a steady piston like action, fucking Kate, screwing her hard, each thrust forcing her back against the harsh bark of the small tree’s trunk.

“Uh fuck … uh fuck … uhhhh fuckkkkkk!” Moaned Kate in time with the vigorous motion that was stretching her opening wide. Then she felt it. Building inside her traitorous body … an orgasm. Fuck … she was going to cum!

Griffin grinned into her face and, leaning back, brought both hands up to her welted breasts, stretching and pinching the bruised and swollen nipples until tears flowed unchecked from her eyes.

“You want this Miss Clarke!” It wasn’t a question.

Kate made no reply, none was necessary. The signs were plain enough to Cole Griffin. Flushed cheeks and heavy breasts, a clear musky scent of arousal. Oh yes, she wanted this alright … he was convinced.

“Ohhhh!” She glared wide eyed at her would-be captor as he suddenly withdrew. Taking up and raising the willow once again he stood before her, his erect cock jutting proudly before her gaze.

Kate braced herself and closed her eyes. She expected more searing blows and she was not disappointed. They came hard, cruelly punishing her breasts, flat belly, abdomen, the sensitive tops of her spread thighs. She cried out and sobbed, but still the onslaught continued …

Every few lashes Griffin would pause to look upon her and finger his cock … he had an erection to sustain after all.

Moving back to her, he once again began to finger her pussy. Slowly at first, but he soon built up to head of pace that had the young girl squirming and writhing as far as the bondage ropes would allow. Then, when she was on the brink of her climax, he pulled his digits free and quickly lashed the willow switch across her denuded mound.

“No, no, noooooooo … Cole, please …” She needed what he had begun to offer her. But instead of taking her over the edge, he took another step back, changed his angle and swiped the willow upwards between her open thighs, striking along the full length of her weeping slit. Kate screamed a piercing yell, as the impending orgasm exploded and rushed through her, rinsing out every sinew and nerve ending with orgasmic delights, shaking her naked, trembling body violently against the ropes that held her fast.

“Ohhhhh fuckkkk, Cole, ohhhh my GODDDDD! Fuckkkkkk yessss!”

Her orgasm rolled and rolled, refusing to abate as the tightly bound Kate attempted desperately to buck her hips, thrusting her freshly welted body outwards as much as she was able, begging silently for him to fuck her again.

Of course, Griffin obliged and, grinning, he moved in closer and ploughed into her once more, quickly arching and shooting his own thick, white seed deep inside her, as she writhed desperately against his grateful body.

Then it was over. Griffin untied his bound consensual-captive and she fell to the ground, laying face down. He knelt over her and carefully removed the wooden phallus from her ass. She writhed just a little, and even when he replaced the wooden invader with two fingers, all Kate could do was grunt.

He shuffled into position behind and between her, and let his softening cock rest in the crevice between her ass cheeks. Using the grip of both hands he pulled her buttocks apart, opening her and exposing the still open tight little hole.

Kate shuddered but was too exhausted to protest.

He panted as he lifted her by the hips and burrowed his face into the spread cheeks, sealing his mouth around her ass-hole as he began to suck and lick at her. As he did this, he slowly pulled upwards until she was on her knees and elbows, her delicious curves pushed provocatively outwards.

“Gotta do this quick, while I still have anything left …” He muttered to himself as he centred his semi-hard cock on the twitching hole, and rotating his hips he slowly but very surely drilled into her.

“Ohhhhh fuck, fuckkkkkkk you will tear me, stopppp!” Kate had woken up, but it was too late. Inch by inch he twisted himself deeper into her bowels, spiralling his thrust, corkscrewing her ass, drilling deeper into her.

Then he pulled out so that he could gaze upon and enjoy the swollen aperture that was now, much to his delight, fully opened. With another deep sigh to complement her even deeper groan, he slowly pushed back in and began to fuck Kate’s peachy ass with a steady rhythm.

He was free to do with her as he pleased, and so he reamed her bowels without reservation until he came hard for a second time, pulling her ass tightly to his groin, making sure that she took all he had left to give!

Breathing hard, Griffin pushed his hand under Kate’s body to support her and slowed his thrusts, riding her down from his high, until they lay in a heap on the dusty ground and he was able to gently disengage from her.

She lay, eyes closed, unable to move until she heard his voice and turned her head to stare at his boots.

“Here take this Kate,” he kneeled and offered her a whisky shot from the same small tin cup they had drunk the coffee from.

Kate shrugged, pulled herself with difficulty to a seated position and took the cup, lifting it to her lips, managing to supress a groan as the action caused her split nipple to rub against her arm.

He placed a blanket around her shoulders, and she smiled at him.

“What now Miss Clarke?” Griffin asked as he poured her another measure of whisky.

She smiled, “Now Cole Griffin, I thank you very much for breakfast, get myself washed in the stream and dressed and then I head on out to continue my journey.”

He nodded. “Which is to where, Kate Clarke … let me accompany you?”

She crawled over to where he sat and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you, Cole,” she said, “But what I am doing I will do alone … just promise me one thing …”

He nodded and looked earnestly at her, “What’s that Miss Clarke?”

“Before you leave this place make sure you take a bath in the stream!”


To Be Continued ...
A small clump of trees in the Ozark Mountains
What is it about the Ozarks that get nubile girls in such trouble there? Something in the water? @thehangingtree , please enlighten us!
Kate pulled her knees up tight to her chest as she digested his words. She had indeed suffered in this way before but what Griffin was suggesting seemed different to the torments that Sampson and Shepherd had inflicted upon her. She didn’t think that Griffin would really hurt her, and she did owe him her life.

She looked up at him and nodded.
Excellent judgment there, Kate.
But minutes later she was very much less sure of her decision.
Did you at least agree on a safe word first? Never leave home without it!

Great chapter, extremely hot. I like in the images at the end - that even in the backwoods, Kate manages to maintain a stylish and blow-dried coiffure.
 

Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
What is it about the Ozarks that get nubile girls in such trouble there? Something in the water? @thehangingtree , please enlighten us!
It’s not that they are nubile girls, PrPr. It’s that they are blue state girls (Kate excepted) and Arkansasians are red-necked good ole boys ... that is the source of the trouble!
 

curtis3.roots

Onlooker
What is it about the Ozarks that get nubile girls in such trouble there? Something in the water? @thehangingtree , please enlighten us!

Excellent judgment there, Kate.

Did you at least agree on a safe word first? Never leave home without it!

Great chapter, extremely hot. I like in the images at the end - that even in the backwoods, Kate manages to maintain a stylish and blow-dried coiffure.

Kate degradation requires from now she has to stay dirty, tangled hair, and barefoot.
 
Last edited:

Fossy

Tribune
Chapter 9 – Heading to Jacob’s Creek – 11:30 am 25th May 1865


Within the hour Kate and Griffin had parted company. The Plains Drifter heading off in the direction of St Joseph and Kate towards Jacob’s Creek, a small town in a ravine where, without knowing of the girl’s mission, Cole had let slip that was where ‘those bastard Bushwhackers’ had last been seen.

It was another warm day and the sun’s rays were already nagging at the fresh welts on her body from her ‘coupling’ with Cole Griffin. She might have to wrap a blanket around herself if the aches continued.

It was only when she eventually arrived at the outskirts of Jacob’s Creek that Kate realised how bad she smelled. The heavy odour of perspiration and grime from the days riding had rendered her washing in the stream before she left Griffin almost immaterial.

As she trotted down the Main Street, Kate saw a line of men, all gawking open mouthed at the sight which moved slowly before them. Curious male onlookers with expressions ranging from outright disgust to lust-fuelled admiration, heightened by the clear view of the welts on her chest and arms.

Feeling exhausted and uncertain when she would encounter another night among civilisation, Kate took a room at the Red Bell Guest House for the night.

“Five Bucks if you please, Miss,” the elderly man almost spat through a mouth ‘filled’ with missing teeth.

“Include a meal?” Kate asked. He nodded.

“And a Bath?”

Now, the wily old man grinned.

“Sure … In my front room … it’s where the tin is.”

She grimaced, but reflected quickly upon how badly she needed to wash. “Okay, mister …” now it was Kate’s turn to smile. “Three bucks for bed, a meal and bath where you get to ogle me as much as you want.” Now she paused as the man smiled and nodded.

“Or … you move the tin to my room, charge me one dollar and I’ll let you soap me down.”

Was this really the young girl previously known as Catherine McCown, the demure Southern Belle Socialite, actually once more selling her body, this time to discount a lodgings fee!

What had she stooped to? But she cared not one jot. Kate had to survive, the past year had taught her that and no mistake.

He thought for all of two seconds before taking her proffered dollar, his tongue almost hanging out of his mouth!


******


“Now leave, please.” The man was sat on his ass gasping, his cock rapidly softening after Kate had used her hand to get him off. She had allowed him to soap her back and her breasts, but had slapped his wrists when he headed further down. And then she had given him her fingers, wrapped her grip around his shaft and not stopped jerking him for one second until he had shot his not inconsiderable load high into the air.

He grinned his toothless grin, fastened up his breeches and left with a ‘forever grateful’ smile on his lips.

Kate sank back into the water. She had a huge bruise on her upper thigh where the Indian brave had crashed down on top of her, but that mark didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as the reddened welts that adorned the front of her body. Her stretched anus was uncomfortable, but not enough to bother her … having things inside her ass was something to be avoided in the future if at all possible, was the opinion that Kate had long-ago formulated.

She prodded the bruise gently and then covered it with soapy lather before dipping into the still warm water. A smile played on her lips as she thought about how long she would have cried had she taken a bruise like this just a few short years ago on the Plantation. How times had changed.

The very fact that she was beginning to smell sweeter perked her spirits up, and she stood in the bath to soap the entire length of her glorious body down in a provocative manner that would have driven the old guest house keeper literally insane.

Clean and wholly refreshed, Kate stepped out of the bath, wrapped a short towel around her mid-section and headed up stairs to her room. Her clothes, the sleeveless shirt, skirt and drawers that she wore, were soaking in suds in the small bucket that she had had the man fill for her at the same time he drew a bath. She knew that the heat of day trapped inside her room would dry them. She would simply have to sleep naked this night.


******


Kate rolled over and squinted her eyes at the solid beam of sunlight that pierced the crack in the threadbare drapes and illuminated the room. She had slept like the dead for what seemed like hours and was even now struggling to raise her nude body from the cot so that she could begin the day.

The nubile girl stretched her arms above her head before swinging her legs from on top of the thin sheet and letting her feet engage the floor.

For a moment or two she stared uncomprehendingly at the rough handled knife embedded in the chair beside her bed. It had not been there when she went to sleep the night before and so someone must have gained entry to her room and left this ‘as a message’ for her. Was it a Bushwhacker? One of Terrell’s men … or Terrell himself? Did he know she was hunting him? Kate had told no one but Jesse and Frank James … had Terrell somehow been informed?

She swallowed hard and stared some more at the knife for a moment or two, before gritting her teeth, gripping the handle and puling it out of the wood.

She would need to be on her guard.


To Be Continued ...
 

Attachments

Fossy

Tribune
Another great chapter!

Since the value of a dollar in 1865 as measured by the value today was $16.90, Kate was paying about $85 for that room, in addition to forking over another $17 to take a bath and give the inkeeper a nice little show.
Maybe not so clear from Kate's words but with her nubile negotiating stance she paid a total of 1 dollar for the room and the bath!
 

Fossy

Tribune
Chapter 10 – Jacob’s Creek – 10:30 am 26th May 1865


The temptation had been great for Chucalissa. The renegade Chickasaw warrior had stared down at the sleeping figure of Kate Clarke and recalled the image of his murdered brothers. He was tempted to take his revenge there and then in the darkness of the sleeping hours. He had even run the sharp blade across the soft, exposed flesh of her throat but held back from touching her actual skin.

She was a beauty, her naked, moonlit body exposed to him above the sheet, and he would enjoy raping and scalping her when the time was right. But for now, he wanted to leave her a sign that he had been with her, and then she would know then that he could take her whenever he wanted. She would be in his power and that was strong medicine for him.

So instead of slitting her throat he had thrust the knife into the wooden chair and passed his palm over her sleeping features, so that she would know he had been there.

But now, as the sun rose and the night clouds rolled away, Chucalissa squatted on his heels and watched as Kate kicked the black stallion’s flanks with her heels causing the horse to break into a gallop. The warrior’s vantage point was atop a small rock outcrop from where he could follow her progress. Tracking her from the cave to the white man’s town had been simple, so keeping a watch on her trail would be easy for him.

Mounting his pony, Chucalissa waited until Kate had passed below him before carefully descending the rocky slope. The further she rode away from the town the easier it was for him to remain close to her without being detected.


******


Chucalissa grinned as Kate cantered into what was no more than a death trap for her and he silently congratulated himself. The stupid white woman was just a young girl and he wondered how his brothers had succumbed to her …

He dismounted and led his pony along by his side as he angled down towards a lower outcrop. From there he could see the girl and choose his moment appropriately. He crested the skyline and eased back so that she would not sense his presence.

Carefully he raised his head and in the growing light of the oncoming day he could easily make out her shape as she stopped by a fast-flowing stream, dismounted and tethered the Stallion. Once again, he smiled. Her exits routes were limited … she was his.

Chucalissa dropped to his haunches and headed towards ground level. Moving forward slowly he got to within a few feet of where she sat in the shade and stealthily slid Kate’s rifle from its holster. He was amazed at her naivety but the thought of taking her made his groin swell … and then the Chickasaw brave leapt forward with a savage whoop of triumph.

Kate twisted her head in shock at the brutal sound and then turned in wide-eyed fear to see the painted brave, war club dangling from his waist-belt, pointing her own rifle at her head.

“You murdered my people little pushkush … and so now I take Chickasaw revenge.”

Kate stared at him without moving.

“Up, up … white trash pushkush …” Slowly, with eyes full of wariness, she stood.

“Nisi, nisi …” he yelled pointing the gun barrel at her with more displayed intent. Kate guessed that meant naked in Chickasaw. She gripped the sleeveless shirt and pulled it over her head before reaching around her waist to unfasten the buttons holding her skirt up.

In seconds she faced Chucalissa wearing nothing but her drawers and boots.

“Nisi, nisi, pushkush …” he shouted louder.

With a resigned sigh, and with fear for her immediate future uppermost in her mind Kate toed off the boots and wound the drawers down her legs.

As she stood straight again her firm breasts, still bearing the marks of Cole Griffin’s willow switch, stood out and she heard the Indian warrior gasp at the sight. With the rifle still pointed at her he moved closer, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached out with one hand to fondle the nipples on each pert mound, before taking the erect teat between his finger and thumb and twisting hard.

Kate cried out and fell to her knees as he took his touch away and concentrated once more on pointing the rifle at her.

“Up pushkush, stand …” he had enough English to make himself clear, and Kate assumed that ‘pushkush’ was her. She complied and felt her ankles immediately kicked aside, forcing her to part her legs.

Lowering the rifle Chucalissa pulled the Colt out of its holster and moved to the girl. Putting the revolver to her head he reached between her thighs and began to massage her hairless mound.

He gripped her hair and twisted so hard that once again Kate fell to her knees.

“Oh God, please no, don’t, I did not kill your brothers I was not …”

He pushed her flat, face to the ground and kicked her in the ribs.

“Owwwwww, fuck, fuckkkkk …” Kate tried to curl into a ball but he wouldn’t let her.

Chucalissa knelt between her legs and pushed the thin barrel of the Colt between her ass cheeks.

“Nghhhhhhhh!” She cried, as once again her tightly, puckered anus was violated. He found the snug hole that he sought and pushed the Colt deeper. Kate groaned and bucked, arching her body away from the dusty ground.

“Now I shoot gun and kill hashi'at lhibokta …”

He was going to blow her ass apart. Kate was helpless.

But he didn’t. When the metal cylinder was removed he was laughing at her. But his mirth did not last long as he unwound a rawhide length from his pouch and pulled Kate’s arms behind her back before tying her wrists tightly.

“Pushkush go nowhere now …” he said earnestly as he stood to tower over her prostrate form. She watched in horror as he opened the knots holding his loincloth in position allowing his erection to spring free.

Kneeling again and pushing himself against her ass, he gripped her thighs and pulled Kate’s legs wide apart.

“Oh no, please don’t do this I beg you!” But in amongst her pleas for mercy, the warrior was already using his saliva to lubricate Kate before positioning the swollen head of his cock against her slit. In one wordless motion he thrust his hips forward.

She winced but made no sound as he began to work rhythmically back and forth, his swollen organ filling her to the fullest before pulling each backward stroke almost to the point of extraction.

He fell onto her back, pressing down on Kate’s bound arms and reached under her body to squeeze her breasts causing her to howl. This pleased Chucalissa, he needed to know that she was hurting.

“I shall take you back to Chickasaw camp Pushkush, and roast you over slow fire …” The warrior slowed down the pace at which he was raping her while spoke. His words terrified Kate.

“You will be many days dying, I will teach you what it means to kill Chickasaw. You will scream for long time.”

“Please, no, ohhhhh …” At this the hapless girl was fucked with even more vigour as the brave’s climax approached.

Kate lay still, trying her best not to respond to the sensations her predicament was unwittingly causing to her body. She closed her eyes and groaned.

“Please, please stop … it was not me …” Her attempted explanations that it was she who had been attacked and even then, she had not been the one to kill the Chickasaw braves.

Kate could feel his movements adjust as he grunted his appreciation of her body. Chucalissa had been too keen to get inside her, and she could feel the moccasin tie loosen as she worked her wrists against one another.

But then she felt the sudden urgency in his motion as he began to ejaculate.

“Yes, Pushkush take me … take me hard …” the warrior cried out, exploding jet after jet of thick white seed as his penis detonated inside her.

Kate did take him. She took everything he had and then looked up at him as, with his softening penis dripping with semen, he flipped her over.

Edging his way up her torso her straddled her head and grinned down at her wide-eyed expression. Residual drops of his juices dripped onto her face as he said, “Pushkush clean Chucalissa now.”

He wanted her to suck his flaccid penis dry. Even though she had done the same for the James brothers, pleasuring this savage in the same way made Kate feel sick, but she offered only token resistance before opening her mouth to allow him inside … all the while working at loosening the tie that was now hidden, somewhat painfully albeit, behind her back.

The warrior’s eyes widened as she slid her lips along the remaining length of his reducing shaft and he released a groan of satisfaction that immediately changed to a scream of pure agony as Kate, fighting back the wave of inner revulsion at the thought of what she was about to do, clamped her teeth hard together and severed his cock at the very root!

Her mouth filled with blood but she was already rolling to one side, her wrists free from the tie, her hand grabbing for the Colt. Chucalissa was writhing in the blood-stained dust, hands over his abdomen, thick red liquid flowing freely out of the open wound at his groin, the severed cock laying on the dusty ground.

While the warrior clawed frantically at himself, Kate calmly cocked her revolver as she aimed it at his vulnerable body. With her face now a horrific blood covered sight she spat out the remaining morsels of his severed organ and looked down at the emasculated man who had now become her victim.

His seed was still seeping from her open pussy as she eased back the trigger and shot him in the stomach. He writhed away from the ground momentarily before falling back down in a heap.

Kate put down the revolver and picked up her drawers to draw them up her legs. Then she pulled on her sleeveless top and stepped into her skirt.

Sitting down to put the boots back on she looked across at the dying warrior. “You take your time to die you scum. I have all the time in the world to watch.”

He did indeed take his time to leave this world, and he moaned, not just with the agony of wounds, but with the knowledge that he had died, not bravely on the field of battle, but impotently at the hands of a young woman.

“Pushkush is she-devil …” were the last words he spoke.


To Be Continued ...
 

Attachments

Fossy

Tribune
Chapter 11 – Missouri Trail, Morning of 29th May 1865


Kate had been following the Missouri Trail away from Jacob’s Creek towards the township of Marion in her continued attempt to track down Edwin Terrell, William’s murderer. Her body ached from the vicious rape she had been forced to endure before she had been able to subdue and then kill the savage. Kate smirked to herself … ‘subdue’ was an interesting word for biting off a man’s cock!

She had taken her horse, her loyal Stallion, over one hundred and fifty miles since her encounter with the Chickasaw Warrior who said his name was Chucalissa. She would need to get him new irons on his hooves when they reached Marion.

The sun was hot and Kate kept to the shade when she could … she had a lot of time to think, and it was all she could do to stop herself from becoming too melancholy. She thought about White Orchard, her daddy being killed at Shiloh, her mama being taken from her by that awful illness. Then she let her mind become infiltrated by those awful days at the hands of her own Godfather and his abominable soldiers. Her anger flared as she recalled the beatings, the humiliation and the flogging … especially the flogging. But all of that and the most recent rape of her body by Chickasaw bastard, only served to fuel her need for retribution.

Sampson, Oak and the other monsters, including Tom Shepherd, were all dead … but so was William, and, even though the war had run its course, Kate’s collective thoughts made her even more determined to track down Terrell and kill him.

Catherine Rosemary McCown …

The name sounded alien to her. It had been over a year since she had adopted her father’s pet name for her, and assumed William’s middle name to become Kate Clarke. It had sure kept her anonymity. No one was looking for Kate Clarke, but Catherine McCown was still a wanted woman in Union Army circles.

Leaving her horse with the local blacksmith in Marion, on the promise that he would be ready to leave the following morning, Kate climbed up the steps of the small hotel. The swinging, creaky sign above the door told her that it was called the ‘Lucky Star’, and she hoped that it was omen because she had virtually no money, and as she pushed up the sighing door she hoped that she had enough for a comfortable night, a meal and a bath. She pushed her way inside and banged her boots on the splintered wooden frame to rid them of dried mud, before heading for the desk.

“Anyone home ‘round here?” She thumped her palm flat on the desk.

A young girl sprang up from below the counter where she had been investigating the presence of an unfamiliar insect, and Kate nearly died on the spot with shock at the girl’s surprise appearance!

“Fuck!” she said, using one of the expletives that now came as second nature to her once cultured demeanour, and her hand clutched at her unfettered chest, “You almost stopped my heart!”

“Teach you not to shout your mouth off then when I am just under your feet!” The girl replied. Kate smiled, she admired the young girl’s sass.

“You wanna room Miss …” The girl looked suspiciously at Kate, travelling alone, dirty, smelly, and carrying an arsenal of weapons.

“Just one night,” Kate responded. The girl sniffed and spilled open the register, checking down it with her forefinger.

“We’re pretty full right now, but I can give you the box room on the first floor, if ‘n you want.”

“Does it have a bath?”

“Do you have money?” The girl’s sass continued unabated, and Kate nodded.

“Then I will bring the tin up to your room for you.” She held out her hand, “That’s be six dollars and you get fed tonight and at breakfast.”

This time it seemed unlikely that Kate would be able to use her charms to barter the girl down, so six dollars it was.

“You get on up to the room quickly now, don’t want you upsetting the other guests.”

“Yes ma’am” Kate chuckled to herself as she ascended the stairs and found her way to the smallest guest room in the hotel. She closed the door behind her and flopped onto the bed. It was soft and felt so good. Sitting up she pulled off her boots and recoiled from the smell of her worn woollen socks.

“Damn!” She frowned at the hardened skin, and small blisters. Her pedicure days were well and truly behind her, but the reflection made her smile.

She loosened her gun belt, pulled off her shirt and stood to unfasten her skirt, before falling back down onto the covers wearing nothing but her cotton drawers. Her head sank into the feather pillow and she sighed. This certainly beat laying with your head on a rock and your ass feeling every small stone on the damn ground. Kate snuggled into the mattress and closed her eyes.

She was woken by the sound of her room door opening and in walked the girl from the desk with a bucket of steaming water. Behind her was an orderly of some sort carrying the tin bath. Kate sat up and pulled her arms, with uncharacteristic coyness, over her naked breasts as she caught the man ogling her body.

She stayed that way watching while the two hotel staff members, without speaking a word, came back and forth with water until her bath was ready.

The girl waited for her male colleague to leave and then she closed the door.

“Go on then get in,” she said earnestly, her arms folded. “Don’t be shy, I’m Grace, pleased to meet you and you are Kate Clarke so the book says …”

Kate nodded slowly, her eyes fixed upon the other girl’s stare.

“Well Miss Kate Clarke, it’s your lucky day because I’m gonna scrub your back!”

Kate’s eyes widened, but she stood nonetheless and slowly peeled off her drawers. She moved to the tub, stared for a moment at the steaming water and then stepped gingerly into it.

She groaned as the heat stung her legs and stood stock still until her body had adjusted to the new found temperature. Then she took a deep breath and sank into a sitting position, hugging her knees up to her chest.

It felt so good!

Slowly she relaxed and breathed out through clenched teeth, allowing the warm water to envelope her. Gradually Kate slipped deeper and deeper into the steaming depths until only her knees and head were exposed, with an occasional glimpsing of her breasts adding to the sight.

Closing her eyes, she drifted off into a euphoric state, her nerve endings swollen with pleasure.

“Sit forward and I will soap your back,” Grace said, brusquely. “You’ve gotten the water, so let’s not do half a job.” As she said this the hotel girl leaned in and, taking Kate completely by surprise, kissed her lips.

Grace stood and slipped off her dress. She wore nothing underneath. The gazes of the two girls met and a small, discreet nod preceded the slender, lengthy, now naked limbs stepping over the side of the tin tub and amongst the soapy suds.

Kate smiled and reached her hand up to help the slightly taller girl into the hot water. As they both nestled down Kate sat at the far end opposite her new found bath mate, and shivered a little as her foot was taken in hand. Grace began to rub it gently, and then she watched as the other girl relaxed her head against the edge of the tub. Encouraged by the response, the touch moved higher up Kate’s leg to her thigh.

“If you don't want your bathroom to end up soaked, I suggest that you don't start anything that you can't finish." Kate whispered hoarsely.

Grace nodded and, switching positions, laid herself flat against the other girl’s chest. It was the first time that Kate had ever felt another girl naked against her own body, and she really kind of liked it.

“Turn around and lay against me now, let me wash your back,” Grace whispered.

The manoeuvre wasn’t easy and they splashed around a little, but they were soon settled and Grace picked up the soap and lathered her hands. Her strong fingers worked into the reddened flesh across Kate’s neck and she paused when she saw the pale welts and scars that adorned her skin.

She studied them for a moment and then said, “You took a whuppin’ Kate?”

There was silence until words broke the stillness. “Yes, more than one.” Was all that was said. Grace shrugged and continued with her lathering, understanding clearly Kate’s reluctance to elaborate on her experience. There were somethings you just didn’t talk about.


To Be Continued ...
 

Attachments

Fossy

Tribune
Chapter 11 – Inside the Lucky Star Hotel, Marion Town early morning of 30th May 1865


Kate knew that something was wrong when she thrust out her bare arm and instead of finding the soft flesh of her bed mate, whose body she had enjoyed after the relaxing and cleansing bath was over, she found cold, empty sheets.

“Get up bitch.” She heard the words but they did not fully register until she felt the prod of a gun barrel digging into her ribs and Kate reluctantly opened her eyes.

“What?” Kate knew to stop talking as she looked up into the faces of a large man, two large men in fact, and both of them wearing dull bronze star shaped sheriff’s badges. In between them stood Grace, already dressed, arms folded.

“Grace?” Kate attempted once again to make some sense of what she saw.

But the men spoke again before her ‘friend for the night’ was forced to remain a regretful looking bystander.

“Shut the fuck up bitch. Grace had the good sense to tell us that you were here. Yes, we know who you are and we can use you. So, get the fuck out of bed and put on your drawers.”

Confused, Kate slowly got out of the tangled mess of sheets that she and Grace had left behind, and not for one second did she take her eyes off the barrels of the two rifles pointed at her.

Her naked body was on full display as she pulled on her cotton drawers … questions sat on her lips. What had happened, why, where, when?

She reached for her shirt, but was stopped.

“Nothing more cunt, drawers is all you need, we wanna see those sweet mounds on your chest … tie her.”

Without any more explanation being offered Kate’s arms were pulled harshly behind her back, thrusting her breasts forward, and she was secured by the wrists.

“I’m sorry Kate,” Grace whispered as the bound girl was pushed out of the room. Kate simply stared at her erstwhile lover, knowing not what to say.

Outside the morning was already hot. The sun shone down and Kate’s half naked body was quickly covered with a sheen of glistening perspiration.

Assisted by an invasive man-handling Kate was mounted on a horse, not her Stallion, but a much smaller pony, as the Sheriff and his deputy mounted their rides either side of her.

Without clothes, belongings or weapons Kate was sitting astride the saddled horse wearing nothing but a threadbare set of thin cotton drawers. Her hands were tightly roped, and so as they set off, she had nothing but her knees with which to maintain her balance.

They rode nose to tail with the Sheriff out front and his deputy bringing up the rear. Silhouetted against the still rising sun they made deliberately slow progress.

“Where are we going …” she finally spoke as they left the Marion Town boundary.

“We’re gonna trade you bitch …”

That was all they said, and despite Kate having many questions, she had the good sense to stay quiet, take in her surroundings and look for opportunities to aid her cause.

After a few hours in the saddle though it became obvious that, bound like she was, almost naked, and with her captors to front and rear, opportunity to aid her cause was not going to come. Kate felt dog tired, and she rode, hands-free with her head bowed, her skin hot from the sun and on the verge of burning. Having got very little sleep the previous night, Kate dozed fitfully, frequently woken every time there was a jolt.

Her addled mind played back her time with Grace …

... "Kate," she had said, "Let's remove the tension here. Not committing to anything ... Not being nice to save my feelings ... Do you find the idea of me making love to you appealing?"

"You know that I do." Kate had replied, with a wide-eyed look of coy wonderment.

"If you were ever to explore your curiosity, do you really want it to be with someone who is just curious and no more, groping in the dark, each of you wondering if you're a disappointment to the other?" Grace asked before continuing. "I like girls Kate, and I have had many. I want to show you all the wonders of making love to another girl. I WANT to see that look of ecstasy in your eyes when I make you cry out for the first time. Do you know how special that is for me?"

Kate had closed her eyes, trembling with excitement as she contemplated Grace's offer. Could she find the courage to cross that threshold?

Grace had smiled seductively, leaned in and gently placed her lips against Kate's, kissing her softly. Kate had melted, feeling the indulgent, warm lips against her own as she smelled the rose petalled perfume of the bath they had both just enjoyed. Then she felt the incredibly delicate touch of Grace’s fingers against her skin and her lips parted easily to accept her kiss, feeling a soft touch slide around to the small of Kate's back, pulling their bodies together, naked breasts and stiffened nipples touching.

Finally pulling away, Grace smiled as she gazed hungrily into Kate's eyes once more …

Jolted once more from her day-dream by the horse’s movement Kate wondered what had happened to make this awful predicament so? Grace had been gentle, kind, loving … and now this? It was all a set-up! She felt like a fool, but being foolish was the least of her problems right now!

“We’re gonna burn the shit out of her body Sheriff, if we don’t find the shade.”

The Sheriff grunted at his deputy’s wise words. They needed her body, that would be the main benefit of the trade they had planned, and so the small equine convoy moved off into the trees, much to Kate’s relief.

They rode in silence for over an hour more with the sun’s heat baking up towards midday. They reached the high ridged canyon by mid-afternoon, and the Sheriff called a halt. Kate was hanging onto her consciousness by no more than a thread.

“Keep both hands in plain sight now boy, d’you hear me,” The sheriff said to his deputy, “… otherwise we’re dead.”

Kate’s ears pricked up. The sheriff’s words made it sound like they were heading into Chickasaw territory … a feeling of nausea began to terrorise her spine. Were they handing her over to the renegade Chickasaw warriors that lived away from their reservation, here in the Missouri hills?

“Can’t see me no Indians Sheriff,” the young deputy’s words were infused by an inherent nervousness.

“You can bet your life they’re watching us right now.”

He had confirmed it. Indians. Chickasaw. They were trading her with these savages. But why? What could they know of her background? Did they know who she really was? Had these lawmen been made aware of the desire for revenge these savages might have, given that she had been present at the deaths of three of their warriors?

“Please don’t,” Kate pleaded. She knew what the Chickasaw would do to her, and she felt more terrified than she had in a long, long time.

The sheriff laughed. “You gonna bargain with us bitch huh?”

Kate swallowed hard, “Yes, yes … anything. Take me, have me, fuck me … whatever you want, just please take me back with you to Marion …”

It was then that the Sheriff explained all.

“The Chickasaw raid our cattle. They steel our crops, and terrorise some of the outlaying homesteads. We know you’re the girl that folk say killed three of their braves. We know they want their revenge on the she-devil, as they are calling you. If we hand you over to them, we can secure a promise for peace that might at least buy us some time to build better defences and seek protection form the army hereabouts. So, whatever your inner-whore can offer us Kate Clarke, we ain’t interested …”

And so that was it. Kate’s awful fate was once more sealed!


To Be Continued ...

Note to @old slave @Loxuru @curtis3.roots and anyone else who has wished for Kate to be delivered into the hands of a tribe of savage native Americans - you gotta stick with this now ;)
 

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Loxuru

Graf von Kreuzigung
“The Chickasaw raid our cattle. They steel our crops, and terrorise some of the outlaying homesteads. We know you’re the girl that folk say killed three of their braves. We know they want their revenge on the she-devil, as they are calling you. If we hand you over to them, we can secure a promise for peace that might at least buy us some time to build better defences and seek protection form the army hereabouts. So, whatever your inner-whore can offer us Kate Clarke, we ain’t interested …”
"Listen, Chickasaw, if you raid on us, your warriors must take the risk of getting killed, so, do not complain to us afterwards about it!":loco:

Where is the antheap!?:aaaaa:
 
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