Story: Wanton Thorn's Vengeance


Posted by vorgous on September 28, 2005 at 04:46:49:

This politically incorrect story continues a cowgirls versus indians theme of the wild west. In particular, it follows the events of
Cowgirl Jill -- Final Assault at Digger's Canyon, which is in the story archive here. I don't know if these stories are read here, or even correct for this web site. If there are other places that make more sense please let me know. Anyway, this story is a bit different because the cowgirls do not win. This is, however, temporary because I expect they will exact an excruciating revenge in the next segment. If anyone has any ideas for types of demises, I would be interested. Also, if anyone enjoys these type of stories and would like to contribute ideas they could post to a Yahoo group I set up http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WestStuff/

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Wanton Thorn's Vengeance

One week had passed since ten brave cowgirls defeated the tens upon tens of indian renegades at Digger's Canyon. The indian camp lay in burnt ruins, and the dead naked and half-naked indians lay piled up as carrion. Once vibrant, the intertwined rotting flesh of warriors and squaws now was no more than food for beasts and buzzards

However, not all the renegades had been at the camp. One six-member marauding and hunting party returned a week after the battle. The devastation overwhelmed the five braves and the warrioress who led them.

Their leader, Wanton Thorn, was not born an indian. Rather, she was a statuesque mixture of Irish father and Asian mother. As a young child, her parents were killed by drunken gold prospectors angered by the sight of a white man taking up with an asian woman. Wanton Thorn escaped by fleeing into the woods. A few days later, nearly dead from starvation, some indians found her. She became part of their tribe and from that point forward hated all white invaders with a fiery passion. Many whites had lost their lives to this statuesque Eurasian amazon.

The six renegades staggered with disbelief through the ruins. Those closest to them were dead, their bodies violated. Vengeance was vowed -- vengeance on those responsible for the desecration. As the hot sun shone on the sweaty skin of the five indian braves clad only in simple loincloths and a warrioress dressed in a loose, fringed deerskin vest and short skirt they cried to their gods.

News of the victory over the renegades had, of course, swept through the frontier towns. The cowgirls were now known as the Sister's Brigade. Even without much embellishment, the telling and retelling of their success against the redskin marauders fascinated all who heard of hit. All listened with awe at how the flesh of hordes of naked injuns were riddled by the gatling guns. The story of how the renegades were vanguished by the cowgirls was met with oohhs and aahhs.

Because of the growing fame of the Sister's Brigade it was not so difficult for Wanton Thorn and the five renegade braves to learn who had killed their comrades.

It was now a few weeks after the battle. Two of the heroic cowgirls, Mabel and Bertha, were out hunting deer. They were dressed in long dusters, loose white blouses, and six-shooters strapped to their pants. Each carried repeating rifles. Both were strong, full-figured women, with long, flowing auburn hair – their bodies perhaps more fleshy than muscular under their rugged clothes.

"Sure has been something getting all that attention," Mabel remarked. "Yep," Bertha replied, "particularly from all them menfolk. Yep, lots of attention from all them yummy soldiers." The cowgirls giggled as they hunted for deer.

As they walked through a wooded area, Bertha spotted an indian behind a tree some 30 yards away. She motioned to Mabel. Mabel whispered, "Looks like that injun is waiting to ambush someone. Let's circle around to his back."

Quietly approaching the brave from behind, they reached a spot only a few feet from him. The loincloth-clad warrior seemed oblivious to them, he stared intently, bow loaded with arrow drawn, facing away from the cowgirls.

"Hey, stupid injun, turn around," Mabel laughed. The half-naked brave spun about, saw them and looked startled. Without hesitation, both cowgirls emptied their rifles into the indian's flesh. The barrage of bullets knocked him about, he dropped his weapon, his half-naked body, riddled with bullet holes, with blood flowing from several wounds, teetered back and forth. Then he slowly slumped to the ground.

Before the cowgirls could gloat, however, they were each struck from behind and rendered unconscious. And they, too, crumbled to the ground.

The four remaining braves and Wanton Thorn had snuck up behind the cowgirls. Two of the braves, holding large branches, had struck the cowgirls. "Squirrel Luck did not die in vain. His sacrifice was needed and it means your agonizing death," she sneered.

Bertha regained consciousness. She was naked, but standing. Her legs were spread far apart and her ankles were tied to stakes. Her neck rested against something. She realized it was rope and her head was in a noose. Her hands were lashed together at the wrists behind her back. She was utterly naked, vulnerable, and helpless. "Pull the bitch up," Wanton Thorn ordered. Bertha felt pressure as the noose pressed up, pulling her head upwards. The rope was looped over a large tree branch and then snaked down and was tied around a tree trunk. A redskin stood by the tree trunk. He pulled down on rope, and then retied the end to the trunk to make it taut. The only way Bertha could avoid being strangled was to stand on her tiptoes. Even then, Bertha felt the pressure against her naked throat.

Around her, Bertha saw several nearly-naked savages, dressed identical (except for the female) to the injun she and Mabel had killed. Bertha was struck by the rough beauty of the female -- clearly, she was no redskin. Then Bertha noticed Mabel. Mabel was stripped nude on the ground. Her legs and arms spread apart and tied to stakes in the ground. She seemed unconscious.

"Time for vengeance. I am Wanton Thorn," Wanton Thorn sneered. The four braves surrounded Mabel. Bertha could see their hard members strain against their loincloths. Then one after the other dropped their loincloths. The sweaty braves, their manhoods thick and hard, took turns going atop the unconscious Mabel. Each, in turn, Red Dust, Tree Branch, Cactus Top, and Bear Tooth, mounted the unconscious Mabel and thrust and thrust again into her unconscious form, until each had temporarily relieved his bloodlust.

Bertha could not believe these barbarians. Hatred for these savages grew within her. If only she were free; she would make these redskins pay.

Finished with Mabel, the four braves turned towards Bertha, each with a sick smile. Bertha could see that each was ready for another go round -- their reddened pricks already engorged again. Red Dust approached Bertha. She tried to kick out at him, but could not. Red Dust laughed. Sneering, he walked to within an inch Bertha, then spit in her face. Pressing his naked, muscular flesh against her, he rammed his manhood upwards and in her, thrusting repeatedly, and raped her. Each thrust up relieved the rope's pressure on her neck momentarily while each brief release only increased the choking. After Red Dust finished, each of the others followed.

When the four braves had finished whooping it up with Bertha, Wanton Thorn approached. "Almost over for you, white bitch," the exotic amazon sneered. Wanton Thorn lifted her hand. In it was a thick, bloody penis. "Squirrel Luck wants fun too, you left him unsatisfied," Wanton Thorn said. Then she thrust it head first into the cowgirl's cunt.

"Now," the amazon yelled. Bear Tooth pulled down on the rope lifting Bertha just off the ground, strangling her. As Bertha was lifted up, Wanton Thorn pulled the penis out ot Bertha, then rammed it back into her. Repeatedly, Wanton Thorn used the severed member to violate Bertha.

As this was happening, Mabel began to regain consciousness. Although her nether region felt sore, she had no time to concern herself with why that was so. Her friend was being viciously assaulted. The naked cowgirl struggled and squirmed to free herself from her bonds. She was unsuccessful.

Bertha's feet no longer touched the ground -- she was suspended about six inches above the ground, her ankles strained against the ropes tying them down while the rope around her neck choked her. The indian amazon, continued violating her with the penis. Then, with the penis left deep in Bertha's cunt, Wanton Thorn sneered, "Time to die." As the indian brave continued to keep Bertha suspended, the amazon jumped upon the choking cowgirl, and pulled herself up her naked body. Clasping her arms around Bertha's neck, and her legs encircling the cowgirl's midsection, Wanton Thorn brought herself up face to face with Bertha. Staring intently into the face of the nearly dead Bertha, Wanton Thorn kissed Bertha hard as the brave cowgirl expired.

The amazon let herself slide down Bertha's naked flesh and off the the dead cowgirl. As the suspended, dead cowgirl swung to and fro, the indians laughed.

Wanton Thorn turned towards Mabel. "Your turn, white bitch," the exotic amazon smiled. Mabel could barely contain her emotions, with Bertha so grotesquely dead. "Big, brave indians," Mabel said, "If you're so good how about a real fight. Or are you afraid." "Afraid of a white bitch, not afraid," Wanton Thorn replied, "let's have some fun."

Two of the braves cut Mabel's bonds, then roughly pulled her to a standing position. Wanton Thorn, a hunting knife in hand, faced the naked cowgirl. Ten feet separated them. The amazon threw the knife to the ground mid-way between them.

"Now," Wanton Thorn said. The two braves roughly pushed Mabel away, knocking her off-balance. The Eurasian warrioress threw her toned body into the nude cowgirl. Mabel fell backwards onto the hard ground. The amazon's fists pounded the cowgirl's face. Then, the warrioress butted her head hard into the cowgirl's chest. Mabel was stunned. Rolling off the cowgirl, Wanton Thorn reached towards the knife. With almost no energy left, Mabel grabbed hold of the indian's naked leg and pulled her from the knife, roughly dragging the indian face down along the rough ground.

Wanton Thorn turned her body about, and kicked Mabel away. Then the warrioress leapt for the knife, grabbing hold of it. Mabel jumped atop the indian's back, trying to ride the amazon like a horse. Wanton Thorn bucked Mabel off and the two rugged women rolled about the ground -- two fighters, one nude and one nearly so. As they struggled, they were enveloped by clouds of dust. Then there was a cry of agony, and the two women stopped rolling.

The four braves stood around the women waiting. Then the cowgirl slowly rose, but she was staggering. Jutting out from her navel was the knife handle. The knife was embedded deep within her.

Mabel staggered about in shock, holding her wound – blood dripped from her mouth. Wanton Thorn stood up, staring at the cowgirl. "Grab her," she told Tree Branch. Standing behind Mabel, Tree Branch grabbed Mabel's arms and pulled them behind Mabel. Mabel could feel Tree Branch's manhood touch against her rear as he held her. Wanton Thorn stood and faced Mabel. She pulled the knife from the cowgirl's abdomen, then thrust it hard dead center into the cowgirl's right breast. The cowgirl spasmed. Tree Branch let go of cowgirl, who crumbled to the ground. Wanton Thorn squatted down and removed her knife.

The indians cut Bertha down, then lay the dead naked cowgirl atop the mortally wounded Mabel. They tied the two naked cowgirls together face to face, then brought Squirrel Luck's horse over to them. A length of rope was looped over the steed's neck and the end tied the cowgirls. Then Wanton Thorn slapped the horse's rear. The horse bolted, dragging the cowgirls over the ground behind it.

A few hours later, the horse trotted into a small frontier town, still dragging the cowgirls. To the astonishment of the townsfolk, Mabel was not yet dead. Before expiring, she breathed, "Wanton Thorn, asian cunt, dirty redskins." Word spread to the Sister's Brigade of the indignities suffered by Mabel and Bertha, and several prepared themselves to exact a most vicious revenge on the surviving renegades.
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