Posted by vorgous on December 25, 2004 at 08:27:32:
The three cowgirls had to wait a few days for the expected attack. They did not waste their time. You would need a map to avoid the traps they set. It was a good thing that they were strong, full-bodied females, used to working hard and playing hard.
There had been no immediate concern when Apache Ursa did not return immediately with the war party. After all, none of the tribespeople believed there was anyone, indian or white, who could best her and the warriors accompanying her. But after two days, with no word, a couple of the loincloth-clad warriors decided to look for them. What they saw after following the tracks and first coming upon Wolf Eyes's eaten remains and reaching Dead Man's Cliff over at Mesquite Mesa did not please them in the slightest. First, there were the remains of the nude body of Prairie Dog Ears, who had been shot off his horse on the trail leading up to the cliff and who had been stomped and kicked by his horse. Then, there was the half-naked corpse of Fractured Moon, who lay face down near the cliff in horse dung with horse hooves and wagon tracks over his nude back. And, then there was the pile of warriors piled at the bottom of the cliff covered with the naked remains of Apache Ursa.
All was not bad, however. Several of the horses were still walking about so they could be returned to the tribe. One of the two warriors went down to the naked pile of redskins, the mounds of flesh over which crawled bugs and buzzed at by flies. The indian brave turned Apache Ursa over, pulling her mouth off the still erect penis of Sunset Thumber. He then pulled the knife from nether region of Apache Ursa. After all, there was no sense wasting a good knife. Unfortunately, his moving the bodies upset the delicate balance of the pile of naked indians and the pile of dirty, bloodied, insect infected, dung smeared naked redskins slid again the warrior causing him to trip and fall, and get covered by the putrid flesh.
Disgusted, he pushed the naked bodies away from him and stood up. He climbed back up to join his tribesman and both left to report to the tribe.
Although the tribe was pleased that some of the horses had been returned, they were not pleased that so many tribesmembers had been killed. "There must have been numerous cowboys and bluecoats," one said. "But there were wagon tracks of only one wagon, and there were tracks of only the one horse pulling the wagon leaving the scene," one of the two warriors replied. "How many of the white men did our brothers and sister take to the happy hunting grounds with them?" asked one of the elders. "The only dead were ours," the other warrior replied. "The killers must have taken their dead and wounded with them," the elder hoped. The chief declared, "This cannot go unpunished. A large party must go after and avenge our tribesmembers. The warriors will smear their flesh with war paints and attack in loincloths. We will have our best archers go and our best lancers as well. And, they will be accompanied by our best warrior women. The warrior women will wear their buffalo-hide war skirts and cow-hide vests. There will be no mistake. These whites will pay with their lives, and their deaths will be slow and painful."
And so, forty, sweaty, bronzed braves in warpaint clad only in loincloths rode out to avenge their brother warriors. Their bronzed muscular bodies and shoulder length black hair made them a fearsome sight. With them rode seven full-bodied warrior squaws with black waist-length tresses, clad in buffalo-hide skirts and cow-hide vests. The ample breasts of these strained against the seams of their vests as the warrior women rode and their muscular bare legs glistened in bright sun. Forty-seven redskins rode to avenge their brethern, their bodies glistened in the hot Nevada sun. They rode to Mesquite Mesa, and the horror of what had befallen Apache Ursa only increased the blood-lust within them. These were dangerous, angry savages bent upon revenge and as their horses kicked up the dust, they cried war chants.
Jill, Chrissy and Jane were ready -- in fact, they were eager with anticipation. They were as prepared as they could be. They knew what they would do. All they did not know was the when. It was a good thing they had had plenty of firepower. The desolate ranch was not particularly large; it was located in a clearing in McGiver's Woods, a thick forest. There was about forty yards of open space front the front porch of the log cabin where the cowgirls lived to the woods. Except for the narrow rocky trail leading to the ranch the woods were rather thick. About 20 yards of open space was on either side and to the back of the ranch. Much of the open space surrounding the ranch was dirt and rocks, but there were patches of grass and vegetation as well. A small stable in the back was also where the women kept their horses. A stream flowed where the woods bordered the ranch in the back. But because of the recent dry spell, the stream was little more than a muddy creak. And, it was simply another hot day.
Chrissy was taking her turn as lookout for the injuns. Her long auburn hair covered the back of her long leather coat. Although it was hot, Chrissy had decided it was better to be protected. Jane and Jill were back at the cabin. Other than the front door, the thick-walled one-room log cabin had one window in the front, one in the back and one on either side. Each of the windows could be shuttered with heavy wood shutters. The small cannon the women owned as a souvenir left over from a small fort they had come upon one day, in which the cavalry men had all been massacred, sat primed and ready in front on the cabin porch. The two women were similarly attired. Like Chrissy, each wore their long leather coats, blue jeans, and flannel cowgirl shirts. Their heads were covered with cowboy hats. Jane was stationed at the rear window, Jill was stationed by the front window. Each had their pair of six-shooters strapped to their waist, a couple of loaded repeater rifles, and a couple of loaded shotguns. And there was plenty of ammunition
Chrissy heard faint war-cries and, in the distance could see a dust-cloud coming in their direction. She made a couple of final preparations and then ran towards her friends. She called, "Them redskins are on their way."
A few minutes later the "AAaaieeeeeee, Aaaaaiiiieeeeee" of the war cries could be heard even louder and the ground began to shake somewhat as forty-seven horses carrying forty-seven half-naked indians speedily approached. As the trail was not particularly wide, the indians could ride no more than three in a row. As the indians approached their quarry, led by the fierce Thick Sinew, the blood-lust increased and they were aroused for battle in more ways than one. The male savages were erect with excitement, their members hardened. The nipples of the women warriors had hardened as well.
Unfortunately, for the lead warrior, he was the victim of the first trap. The cowgirls had stretched a rope across the trail, about the height of a man's neck on horseback. As the loincloth-clad Thick Sinew galloped forward, his throat hit the taut rope full force, breaking his bare neck and throwing his half naked body into the air and into a somersault behind his horse. He fell to the ground where his unprotected skin was trampled upon by several other horses. He expired, choking on the dust with most of his bones broken or crushed.
The force of his hitting the rope had caused it to break from the trees and fly about in the air. It struck a second injun in the chest and causing him to lose his balance. As he tried to hold on the the horse, but could not. The rope whipped about in the air and ironically ensnared itself both around his left leg and the left leg of his steed. The redskin fell to the ground and bounced. The frightened mount continued to gallop, dragging the redskin behind her. The redskin bounced up and down on the rocky ground, first on his back and then on his front, his stiff penis banging along dirt and pebbles. His flimsy loincloth ripped from his body. The horse continued to drag the naked redskin along the ground, and then veered off into the woods. The horse continued to galloped as the unprotected redskin was dragged against all manner of branches, rocks and dry dirt, and was bounced against all manner of tree trunks and larger boulders by the frightened horse. He died an agonizing death well before the horse came to a stop some time later.
The rope trap also resulted in the death of one of the squaw warriors, Broken Tooth. She had been in the second row, and her horse had been hit by Thick Sinew, when he had been thrown backwards off his horse. The horse had tripped and Broken Tooth was thrown forward and to the side of the trail, breaking her neck in the fall. She fell on her back, her vest open and her large breasts exposed. The horse, too, had stumbled and, in stumbling, his leg broke and when the horse hit the ground his neck also broke. The horse fell atop and across his rider. The horse's mouth lay open and his wet tongue lapped over Broken Tooth's still erect nipples.
The indians continued their frantic attack. As they neared the end of the trail, arrows began to fly. Jill fired her rifle from the cabin. Chrissy was at the cabin porch and lit the cannon's fuse. With a loud roard, the cannon shot its explosive ball at the columns of indians, striking in the middle. Ten more warrior men, and two more squaws were blown off their horses, their exposed flesh seared and cut, most of these twelve mortally wounded, although they would writhe on the ground for quite awhile before expiring -- unless their misery was first ended by a shot or two from the three cowgirls. The attack party was already down to 32 bronzed, sweaty and aroused savages.
By now the indians had reached the clearing. This allowed them to spread their attack force from the narrow columns forced by the trail. They continued their charge on horseback. The cowgirls, though were excellent shots. Shotgun blasts, rifle blasts, and six-shooter blasts were continuous. And, even though many arrows were sticking to the wood of the log cabin, arrows were no match for the firepower of the cowgirls. Within moments another ten injuns, including one warrior squaw had been struck by the volleys of bullets. These nearly-naked savages littered the front of the clearing. Not all were dead, and some of them attempted to aid the assault on foot. Two of them, Twisted Kneecap and Crinkled Earlobe, with tomahawks raised high in the air, ran toward the cabin. These two warriors were about ten feet apart, their muscular sweaty skin glistening in the sun. But they did not get very far. Each became victim of another trap, stepping on brush that gave way into large pits that had been dug by the cowgirls, and both were impaled upon stakes at the bottom. Twisted Kneecap fell in such a way that a long sharpened stake pierced through his anus and jutted out his navel. He was suspended the air for awhile with the stake jutting out of him, as erect as his engorged penis. Then slowly his body slid down to the bottom of the pit. Crinkled Earlobe had fallen face downward and had struck two stakes. The first one had entered through his mouth and out the nape of his neck. The second stake had cut through his groin, demolishing his penis and existed out his ass, pushing the flap of his loincloth to the side.
Another of these indians advancing on foot, a warrior squaw, whose vest had torn open when she fell from her horse, was struck by three bullets almost simultaneously, one from each of the three cowgirls. Jane's bullet hit the bulls-eye of the squaw's right breast, Chrissy's the squaw's left breast, and Jill's shotgun blast had struck the squaw below the belt with numerous pellets. The squaw fell backwards, arms outstretched, feet spread apart, face looking up to the skies.
The twenty-two remaining redskins, including five indian squaws started encircling the cabin on horseback firing many arrows. Jane took up position again in the rear. A rifle shot hit one injun, causing him to fall from his horse face down into the muddy creek, where he quivered for a couple of minutes before dying face down in the mud. Another redskin was shot by Chrissy from her position at a side window. This nearly naked warrior remained bouncing up and down on his horse, though dead, for a few seconds before falling to the ground. A second redskin, a warrior squaw was shot in her side by Chrissy, this time using a shotgun. She was thrown from her horse, her skirt torn from her body by the blast and landed in a large thicket of rose bushes. Numerous thorns cut into the mostly unprotected flesh of the mortally wounded squaw Little Brains, including her nipples. As Little Brains struggled to escape the thorny bushes, her vest tore from her body, and the thorns cut into her completely naked body, pricking hundreds of places, both senstitive and otherwise.
Using her six-shooter, Chrissy shot another injun, this time a warrior male Tricky Action, in the same area. He, too, fell into the thorny rose bush thicket, a few feet from the dying struggling LIttle Brains. Tricky Action's flimsy loincloth proved no match for the thorns. This warrior, as excited by the blood-lust of battle as other of the indians, had been fully erect. The thorns cut into numerous areas of his naked flesh, including his engorged member. The more he struggled the more his body was cut. Blood streamed from numerous spots of the two injuns, both of whom writhed in agony for quite awhile before expiring in orgasmic death.
Nineteen redskins still remained. A few arrows entered the cabin. One indian threw a lance that nearly hit Jill, but landed harmlessly on the floor. One of the arrows hit Jill's hat, causing a second hole and knocking it off her head. "Damn, I need a new hat," she said.
Jane had shot another of the indian squaws. She landed in the muddy creek atop the dead injun who was face down in the muck.
With eighteen indians left alive, including three warrior women, the savages decided to regroup. They collected themselves near the left side of the house, at the edge of the clearing. They decided to get off their horses and continue their attack on foot. They also decided it was time to shoot flaming arrows at the cabin and burn the women out. The indians dismounted. The three warrior women stayed near the edge of the clearing along with five of the braves.
The other ten made their way towards the other side of the cabin to begin the fiery arrow assault.
Ten injuns were on one side of the cabin and eight on the other. Fiery arrows began to fly.
Chrissy said, "Do you see where them red devils are?" "I sure do," said Jill. Jill and Chrissy each crept out the cabin door and stayed low on the porch, Jill to the left and Chrissy to the right.
Chrissy watched where the ten braves on her were firing their flaming arrows. It was perfect. Arrows whizzed by her, a couple of flaming arrows hit the porch. Chrissy grabbed hold of one and lit another trap on the ground next to the cabin. It was a trail of gunpowder that led basically to near where the ten braves where standing. Each of them getting ready to fire another flaming arrow. Chrissy smiled as she noticed how aroused these savages were, seeing the bumps their engorged penises made in their flimsy loincloths.
The savages stared in awe at the lit gunpowder trail. They were confused. A few launched their arrows. The trail of gunpowder, in essence, a fuse was several feet to the side of the injuns, and it went into some bushes. A few more fired lit arrows at the cabin. One of the injuns realized what Chrissy was doing. He walked over and kicked at the lit gunpowder fuse. Chrissy frowned.
Unfortunately for the injun, a flaming arrow from the group of eight injuns on the other side of the cabin had overshot its mark and landed in the bushes near the ten redskins. Suddenly, there was an explosion. The gunpowder fuse had led to the dynamite the girls had planted in the bushes. The explosion was large enough to blow the nearly naked redskins to bits. Bodies flew in the air, landing this way and that. In some cases, only an arm or a leg landed. An engorged penis landed next to Chrissy on the porch.
At the same time, Jill had pulled hard on a rope on her side of the porch which was trigger for the last trap. A large rope mesh net was suspended in the trees above where the five braves, and three squaws had gathered. Pulling the rope caused the heavy rope netting to drop and it enveloped those eight injuns, entangling them.
Unfortunately, there had been another cry. When the two cowgirls had gone to the porch to spring the net trap and the dynamite trap, Jane had moved her position to the window facing the ten braves with fiery arrows. One of the arrows fired had gone through the window, striking Jane in mid-chest, between her breasts. Her clothes had caught fire, and the wound was mortal. She stumbled out just after the explosion. She looked at her two friends, and with a tight smile said, "Well, it's been a fun ride; too bad I won't be with you much longer." Jane fell, rolling down the two steps that led to the porch and onto the ground, face up, her chest still burning and smouldering.
Chrissy weeped, "May she rest in peace. She sure was a hot one." Jill was angry, "Damn savages, look what they've done. They done killed one of us. It just ain't fair. Well, we'll show them."
Chrissy and Jane, with shotguns and pistols, went over to the eight indians caught in the net, and all entangled in the mesh and in each other's flesh.
Chrissy said, "None of you try anything, damn redskins."
Jill and Chrissy removed the net trap from the indians. They were directed to stand up. Taking the knife that she had confiscated from the injun killed a few days earlier at the campsite, and which she now had kept in her coat, Jill cut off the loincloths of the male indians and the vests and skirts of the women indians. All stood before the two cowgirls completely naked. All stared fiercely, albeit somewhat scared, at the two cowgirls. And, oddly enough, all remained utterly aroused notwithstanding their predicament. "The rest of your party is in the happy hunting grounds, perhaps you'll be joining them," Jill sneered. "But before then, let's have a party," Chrissy said, "a party in memory of Jane."
Jill grabbed some of the rope and cut it in various lengths. One length was thrown over a tree tree branch. Chrissy grabbed one of the indian braves, the one with the thickest, hardest, longest penis. She wrapped the end of the rope around the base of his penis and tightened it, then she pulled down on the other end. The injun yelped in pain. Jill helped pull the end of the rope. The injun was literally lifted off the ground, and was suspended in the air, one end of the rope tied to his penis, the other end held by the two cowgirls. Chrissy motioned another warrior over. She tied the end of the rope around his neck. Now, one indian was stretched by the groin, the other by the neck. As the two injuns struggled in pain, the two cowgirls turned their attention to the remaining three braves and three squaws.
Jill took another length of rope. One brave was made to lay on the ground on his back. The other was forced to lay face down on top of him, head to groin and groin to head -- each with his mouth over the erect penis of the other brave. Jilled tied the two naked braves together around the midsection, and at the heads. The injuns squirmed to try to get their mouths off the other's member, but could not.
Jill looked at the remaining four indians. She walked over to one of the men. She took her shotgun and pointed its barrels against the side of his stiff member. She licked her lips and then fired, blowing the injun's penis to smithereens. He jumped around, blooding flowing to the ground. "Go," she said to him, "Tell your tribe of your defeat." The naked, wounded redskin began to run off, blood flowing to the ground. At about twenty years, Jill fired her pistol. The injun was struck in the back and fell face forward -- this time stone dead.
Jill walked over the the last of the braves. The male indian had no idea what was in store for him as he stood there, his member stiff and engorged from fear. Jill walked over to him, knife in hand. "A very muscular body," Jill said. "I like muscles," she continued. And with that she took the knife and sliced off the injun's penis. Blood spurted out. "Yep, one fine muscle," Jill said, "Here, you can have it back." With that, Jill stuffed the severed penis, bloodied end first, into the mouth of the naked redskin, just as he collapsed to the ground, and expression of horror in his eyes, as blood continued to spurt from the nether region of his writhing body.
The two braves tied together on the ground continued to squirm, trying hard to escape their bonds. The other two braves, one choking from the rope around his neck, the other in agony from the rope pulling on his member were equally trying to escape.
"Now, for these two warrior bitches," Chrissy said. She walked over to one and used her shotgun barrel to caress the female redskin. The barrel slide over the ample breasts slowly, one at the time, rubbing its cold metal edge against the hard nipples. Chrissy brought the barrel down further, all the way to the warrior's nether area. "Spread your legs apart," Chrissy ordered. Recalling how she had taunted Jill a few days earlier, Chrissy then thrust the barrel into the injun's cunt, and steadied the end of the handle on the ground. Jill got behind the injun and pushed her off-balanced so that it was the shotgun that supported the nude savage, handle on ground, barrel rammed into her innards. "Now," said Jill. Jill stepped back and Chrissy reached down and fired the shotgun.
The shotgun pellets ripped through the insides of the redskin squaw destroying her innards, the explosion threw her up in the air and back, and she landed face up on the ground, a large gaping hole where the shotgun's barrel had been.
Chrissy said, "I'm getting pretty tired of this." She fired her pistol at the redskin who was still choking and gurgling from the rope around his neck, striking him in the chest and killing him instantly. He became a dead weight, which caused even more pressure on the bound penis of the other injun, which had turned a much deeper red then the injun himself. "Time to finish this," Jill agreed. She sliced off the head of that injun's penis, the tension release from spurting blood caused him to drop to the ground, writhing with his half member. Jill turned the injun on his front and jumped on top his naked backside. Jumpin and jumping on him, crushing his half penis into the dirt and pebbles. She jumped and jumped on him, rubbing his torn flesh again the hard ground until he screamed and cried no more.
The two cowgirls then turned their attention to the two injuns bound together on the ground, even though one last squaw had yet to be tortured. Jill ground her foot into the nape of one, Chrissy stepped on the ass of the other, in effect pushing the indians' mouths even futher into the penises of the other. Then, the two cowgirls kicked and rocked the two injuns. Turning them over and over, rolling them on the ground for a moment or two. Chrissy brought a horse over. They tied the feet of one of the injuns to the horse, then slapped the horse's hind quarters. The horse gallopped off dragging the two bound, naked redskins, bouncing them on the rocky, dirty ground, causing them to bite each other stiff members. After the horse had gallopped for awhile, dragging the bloodied, dirtied dying engines she went over to the creek to drink. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for the two injuns, the horse dragged these naked savages into the creek where they choked and drowned in the muddy water.
Jill grabbed the last squaw. She pounded some stakes in the ground, and tied the wholly nude squaw to them arms apart and legs apart, completely spread-eagled. She went back to the cabin and got some honey. She spread it on the injun's breasts and groin. She then went over and found some horse dung. She spread that on the face, stomach, and thighs of the muscular, fierce squaw. Chrissy walked over to the porch and got the penis that had landed near there after the explosion. She pushed open the nude squaw's mouth and stuck it in her so that the head stuck out. The squaw spit it out. Rather than waste time strapping it into the injun's mouth so that she could not spit it out, Chrissy then took the still stiff penis and rammed it into the squaw's cunt so that the head of the penis jutted out. Pretty soon, armies of red ants, flies, and other bugs found an injun feast. They crawled about her body, biting and nipping and probing in every crevice and orafice. A few birds flew about and joined the action, pecking at the injun's flesh. As the afternoon continued, it remained hot. The injun squaw was parched. Crawly things pinched and probed and nipped and bit her, as did birds and a few small animals that had joined the feast. She struggled writhed unsuccessfully in agony. Every so often, in between digging a grave for Jane, Chrissy and Jill walked over to the warrior savage and kicked her or spit on her or both. Occasionally, Chrissy smeared a bit more honey to the redskin.
The two cowgirls also gathered up the naked corpses of the rest of the indians and pile them on a whole lot of dry brush. Surprisingly, a couple of the injuns were not yet dead, although severely wounded. Chrissy and Jill played a game with one of them, a injun shot from the volleys of rounds as the indians had first entered the clearing. When the cowgirls came upon him he was on his back in the dirt, his engorged penis fully erect and pushing against his loincloth. Jill tore the loincloth from the indian's body and grabbed hold of the erect member with her hand and gave it a twist, as if unscrewing a bottle cap. The injun yelped. "Now, your turn," Jill said. Chrissy grabbed the hard penis and twisted. Each tried to grab hold harder and twist further than the cowgirl before her. Back and forth the traded turns, twisting it this way and that, crushing it harder and harder in their hands. The indian whimpered in agony. Chrissy won the game when while giving it a large tug there was a snap. She had broken the penis and it flopped to the side, engorged but no longer jutting erect in the air.
They dragged that whimpering, mortally wounded injurn to the indian pile his broken penis flopping up and down as he was dragged over dirt and rocks and pebbles. They stacked him on top of the other dead and dying injuns. "What a stack of naked savages," Chrissy admired, "all that naked flesh intertwined, breasts and penises all here and there." "Too bad we didn't save any to service us," Jill observed. "Oh, they'll be more, of that I'm sure," Chrissy replied, as she lit the brush and started the injun bonfire.
The naked warrior female injun lasted for a couple of days before expiring from being bit and gnawed to death.