GW 4

Posted by Barbanne on July 15, 2003 at 00:54:41:


Chapter Four

Back amongst my friends and in the bed of my husband, I quickly recovered my health and gained some of the weight I had lost during my ordeal when escaping from the redskins. My eyesight never quite recovered and I had to scratch around amongst the supplies we had until I found a pair of eyeglasses that cured the problem, allowing me to see once more the far horizons to which we were headed. I was still wearing my redskin dress which had scrubbed up well, (only with proper undies on underneath) and had made myself a new pair of hide boots to replace those I had destroyed during my marathon walk. So, with this on and my wire framed specs, I looked for all the world like squaw granny and endured a lot of good natured banter as a result.
My husband hadn't had any substitute wives as I had had husbands and whilst I suspected that Therese would not have seen him go hungry, so to speak, his appetites for me, once I had regained my stamina, were very gratifying although exhausting. We retired to bed early on many occasions and performed in as many ways as we could imagine to catch up for lost time. It was often a case of one upmanship, or in my case one upwomanship, as we took turns on being on top or underneath, as well as sideways, doggie fashion, you name it. Afterwards, I would sit there naked, sweaty, and pull on my specs to better see my beautiful husband and lover. Dressed in specs and lust only, I caused him to chuckle and chuckle and he said he loved his short sighted little sex bomb. When, at my suggestion, Therese started joining our bed, she too was always amused when after a particularly strenuous feat of sexual athelticism, I would don my specs and peer at my friends, the better to appreciate our skills. I recall on one occasion, having satisfied my own immediate needs, I was sitting on the bed in the nud, wearing eyeglasses and a worried expression, biting my bottom lip with my top teeth and Dave and Therese, whose turn it was, saw me just as they were hitting top speed and the sight of this bespectacled voyeur turned their lustiness into hilarity and both were quite unable to perform and Dave decided the only thing to do was tickle his beloved wife, who (as I am chronically ticklish) turned into such a squirming, shrieking, nude (glasses only) banshee that the bed full of us dissolved into giggling, screeching, laugh until you're sore fun, followed by the most wonderful sex imaginable.
I don't know what the others made of this.
.........but it was just the therapy I needed.

We were now far up the Missouri. We were stopping often to take on hides from trappers who came down and waited for the boat. The fact that we were maybe six months late didn't seem to matter and once our arrival at one spot was noted, the news travelled like lightning to others in this sparsely populated area. The odd collection of characters who came down to meet us, and the tales they told of life in the backwoods were, for a girl whose life had been led largely on the fringe of town society, fascinating in the extreme. I was in constant wonderment and my defining features became my fringed clothing, my eyeglasses and my constantly gawping, open mouth.
"Interested in everything Barb?" Said Therese on one such occasion.
"There's some of us think you're pretty interesting yourself."
"I mean life on your own, working in, well, "different" places, captive of the indians, world champion trekker................"
"Cut it out." I thumped her playfully.
"No, I mean it. You've done more than the average girl your age."
"Most of it bad."
"Lowlife, scummy, shithouse bad, Therese, and if you think this girl talk is going to bring anything out you're wrong. I've got little to be proud of and a lot to be ashamed of and I'm just going to bury it all. Life for me started when I met Dave. And you."
"That bad?"
"Want to tell me about it?"
"I said no."
"Might help to get it out."
"Its worse than you think."
"I'm thinking pretty bad."
"You couldn't imagine."
We left it at that. I could see she and Dave were interested in what my scummy past might have contained, but I wasn't going to tell. I knew one day I'd have to atone for what I did, but for now I wanted to live life now. And besides, I wanted to know what these two were up to. When we'd dumped Annie they'd let on they were more than they seemed. How much more I wanted to know. I raised the question and Dave skipped over it. We kept our secrets from each other and let them lie.
We were getting far up the Missouri now and we knew from trader talk and from the stuff the captains had discovered that we'd run into a bunch of big water falls and that would be it for the Ticonderoga. Unless, that is, we wanted to port it several kilometres up hill. I asked Dave how far we intended going and he said we'd camp at the falls and see what happened then.

I had been thinking about my fantasy for dead play and how I'd wanted to share with these two. I decided to do something to introduce the idea. One night when I was in bed with Dave and he had just started getting amorous, nibbling my ear and kissing my shoulder, I said, without turning to him or showing it was anything special, "Dave, you know when I first came back from the redskins and I was sick and helpless.........?"
"Just lying there unable to do anything. In your hands?"
"Well, did you want to do anything?"
"Just wanted to get you better. What do you mean sweetheart?"
"Yeah, I know. But did you find my being helpless.........well,..............did it turn you on or anything?"
"You always turn me on darling."
"Yeah but if I'd been healthy but still in your power..........?"
"What are you saying Barb?"
"Well sometimes I fantasise...................."
"Fantasise what darling."
"Your going to make me come right out and say this."
"Guess I am."
"OK. I have fantasies about being totally helpless and submissive and in your power and you use me however you wish and its like I'm unable to do anything but go along with what you want."
"Like if I was,...............well,...................."
"You were what hon?"
"What erum."
"Dead. If I was dead. Not dead, dead. But playing dead and I couldn't move or do anything, just lie there and you'd be able to use me just as you wished."
"You could undress me and play with me and then you could...............use me."
"Wha' d'ya think?"
"Let me see if I've got this right. There you'd be stretched out playing dead or out to it and I'd come in and think "Poor Barb, there she is and I just know she likes to fuck and she's past making her own mind up, guess I'll have to do it for her." And then I'd pull down your panties, like this, and I'd roll you over, like this............"
I could see he had the idea and I went limp and let him make the running.
"..........and I'd kiss you, like this, and I'd stroke your nipples, like this, and I'd say "Poor girl, bet she'd like me to screw her" and I'd climb on and slip myself in, like this, and, Oh goodness, she's all wet and excited down there, and then I'd move slow at first, like this and then faster and faster, like this, and, uh, uh, faster and, uh, uh, and I'd, pump and pump, like this, and ooooooooooooooh, I'd shoot my load like that."
I was breathing really hard. Between gulped breaths I said, "Yeah, that's the idea."
"I think I'd like that fantasy."
"Hoped you would."
We refined our game and then one day invited Therese to join in. To my surprise, she did so with great enthusiasm as if it were something she'd been thinking about. She even took the part of the dead one from time to time and seemed to derive great enjoyment from that. My fantasy sex life reached new and undreamt of heights when I would lie naked and "dead" while Therese loved my breasts and Dave concentrated on my pussy region where he could achieve most for both of us.
I reckon you must be wondering how, what with my past work experience, the rest of the guys on the boat let me enjoy such a full and satisfying sex life without their being included from time to time. Well, the truth is they all treated me with the greatest respect and it was acknowledged and agreed I was the boss's missus and off limits. Their sexual requirements were taken care of by girls from the more friendly tribes we ran into along the way, as well as women who lived in this wild and lonely land and quite enjoyed a change of diet when the boat arrived. The men they lived with seemed able to abide this as the boat's arrival gave them the opportunity for some deadly serious drinking.

So we arrived at a spot where by Dave's reckoning we were some twenty kilometres from the falls. We tied up and retired for the night, hopeful of reaching journey's end for the Ticonderoga on the following day or the day after that at the latest.
It was now summer and quite warm at nights and mossies were a problem whenever we came close to shore. This often caused disturbances at night. I don't know if that contributed or not, or whether it was because, ever since my sojourn with the redskins, I had become very sensitive to unusual sounds at night, but for whatever reason, I woke just before dawn aware that something had intruded on my consciousness. I shook Dave and he mumbled and I slipped out of bed naked and, wrapping a robe around me, went out onto the darkened deck. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the gloom and I wished I had bought my eyeglasses with me. I heard a faint scraping noise and couldn't place it when, suddenly, over the edge of the boat appeared a woman's torso, stark naked and streaming water, as was her long,black hair. She looked back where she had come and then scanned the deck and saw me. She shouted something in a guttural voice and then I grabbed her hair and started pummelling her about the head and shoulders with my little fists. She grabbed my hands and I shoved at her and she fell back into the water dragging me with her. We hit the surface with a splash and went under. My panic hit me, but I pushed it away, thinking I haven't come this far to fail now. I held onto her hair and we rolled and wrestled in the water. We came up and I took a deep breath and down we went again. My assailant was bigger and stronger than me, but in the water things evened out somewhat. My little dander was up and I shoved this bird down under me and struggled to stay on top. We were under the water and I could see her face only centimetres from mine. She had swallowed a heap of water when we went over and it had slowed her down, causing her to struggle for breath. I shoved and shoved and managed to poke her in the eye with my thumb. This must have caused her to forget herself and she opened her mouth and took in another gutful of water. I could see she was struggling for breath and just filling her lungs with more and more water. I thought 'got ya bitch' and despite the fact I'd have loved another breath of fresh air myself I hung on and held her down. Her eyes were wide and panic was written all over them. I knew I was going to win and she knew she was going to die. I hung on, lungs bursting, starting to feel light headed. She stopped struggling and twitched feebly and her mouth hung open and the river water streamed into her lungs and her eyes became fixed and staring and I knew it was over. I allowed myself to float to the top, my victim hanging limply from my grasp. My head broke water and to my surprise I was within arms length of the side of the boat. I put out one arm and grabbed it and trod water while I regained my breath. I hoicked my dead'un over and lay her up and onto the side of the boat. I scrambled onto the deck, my robe barely hanging onto me and turning, grabbed the dead girl under the arms and hauled her sodden, dead body onto the deck.
I heard a shout. "There she is." And crew members surrounded me even as I was laying my girl's corpse out on the deck. I sat there puffing and panting and snotting and blowing, the dead girl stretched out in front of me. She was wearing a sort of loin cloth only and when I saw her thus I could see she was a head taller than me and I marvelled that I had been able to best her. Dave put his arm around my shoulder and pulled my robe closed to preserve my modesty if I had any left to preserve. "There were three of them." He said. "We got the other two as they came on deck." I looked around. Two more near naked girls lay on the deck some distance away, both had been killed by a knife through the heart. I got up and staggered over. Two crew men carried my girl over and laid her out alongside her friends. The other two were almost dry and had bled onto the deck and now lay in pools of their own blood.
"And what was this?" I asked.
Dave and Therese exchanged glances. "Lady Buchanan." Said Therese.
"Petra!" Spat Dave.
I knelt down next to my girl's body and stroked her nipple and ran my hand over her tummy. "Poor dear, she's not going to get any older. I reckon the boys should give her and these other two a send off."
"Jeez Barb!" Therese looked at me like she hadn't heard right.
"I'm going to get dressed and YOU," I looked at Dave, "and YOU," I looked at Therese, "can come and tell me who this Petra, Lady Buchanan is, and what she is to you. And who you bloody well are. And then I'll come back and you and me, Therese, will bury these girls."
I stomped off into my cabin.
Dave knocked and came in, Therese followed. I had stripped off my wet robe and was towelling my hair.
"S'cuse my nakedness, but nothing you haven't both seen."
"You pissed Barb." Therese looked coy.
"Well, I'm being woken up by women coming onto this boat, trying to kill me, I take early morning dips I hadn't planned, nearly get drowned, drown a girl, find Therese being assaulted by a passenger, nearly get stabbed. SHIT! 'course I'm pissed!"
"You ARE pissed."
"Well, tell me what's happening, maybe I can handle it, maybe I won't get pissed."
Dave sort of shuffled his feet.
Cleared his throat.
"Its like this darling."
I stood looking at him, hands on hips, towel in hand, quite naked.
"Could you put something on sweetheart, its hard to tell you this but looking at those angry nipples makes it impossible."
I became aware of my nudity. "Oh, shit sorry." I wrapped the towel around me and tucked it into my tits. It reached to just under my ass, so I sat and crossed my legs demurely.
"OK. Go for it."
"I am a fur trader and actually Therese is my partner."
"And we're both employed by a branch of President Jefferson's office to carry out surveillance on a problem we have become aware of in this area." He coughed and looked at Therese, she smiled at him. "See, after the War of Independence, we became self governing but that hasn't stopped a particular cabal of Englishmen working towards eventually re-imposing Britain's rule over America."
"But, I thought..............."
"Want me to tell you?"
I nodded.
"Well, this group of Englishmen, and women, is led by Petra, my Lady Buchanan, or Petra Bee as she's known to us. She has vast holdings in the area west of the Mississippi and these are endangered by Britain's loss of its colonial control over us. She is plotting with the French, ever a duplicitous nation, to bring down the Government of the United States and divide America between Britain and France. We have here a letter from President Jefferson, which includes evidence of treachery and which we are to deliver to Britishers opposed to Petra's gang via a ship we'll be rendezvousing with on the west coast. This should bring these dastardly plotters undone."
My heart swelled with pride in my husband and Therese and my adopted young nation.
"Oh Dave, then Annie................."
"Was after that letter. Unfortunately for her she was carrying one of her own that further proves the case against Petra Bee."
"And those girls outside.............."
"Assassins with the same purpose."
"So Barb, my darling you've gotten mixed up in intrigue to save a nation and democracy."
"I don't want you getting more involved."
"C'mon Dave. I'm your wife and Therese is my best mate."
"Even so, we have every reason to believe that my Lady Buchanan will mount a full scale assault before we reach the coast and you didn't buy into that."
"Hey Dave, Therese. I'm with you guys." I hitched up my towel which had slipped down the curvature of my breasts.
"Besides I'm a dangerous little bitch myself at times.................."
I dressed and as I did I said to Dave and Therese, "Have you guys ever seen this Petra Bee?"
"Yeah, we have." Dave replied for both.
"Well, what's she like?"
Dave looked at Therese and said "She's one of the most unforgettable people you could meet. She's tall, built like a goddess and possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.......................except you my darling."
"Yeah, pull the other one its got a bell."
"She's resourceful, bold, daring and extremely dangerous. She eats men for breakfast. And spits them out half digested."
I heard what he said and my mind filled with images of a fabulous, dominant woman. Would she be the one to bring my tawdry career to an end. Would she prove to be the fantasy dominatrix of whom I'd dreamt all my life, at who's feet I'd end my life, dead, helpless, hers to use and abuse? The limp and helpless victim of a beautiful, sexy dominator. Heat spread from my groin as I visualised myself being punished by the beautiful and deadly Lady Buchanan.
My fantasy.
My ultimate and fatally final punishment.
"Sounds tough." I said.
"She's more than tough Barb. She's your worst night mare."
"Or dream fantasy." I thought and despite the warm morning, I shivered uncontrollably.

Dressed, Therese and I went out to where the three dead, girl assassins lay stretched out, stiff as ramrods. We searched them and removed their loincloths. The one I had drowned had a water stained, rough map of the river where the Ticonderoga lay at anchor. Someone had briefed them well. Nothing more showed up and we enclosed their naked bodies in canvas shrouds, which were, once again, as with Annie Jones, filled with rocks and their bodies were lifted by crew members and consigned to the depths of the river.
We set sail, or rather poled upstream, reaching the great falls of the Missouri on the second day. Dave moored the boat to stout trees on the bank and the crew set about establishing a semi-permanent camp. An area was cleared and tents were pitched and a privy arrangement was established away from the camp. A cooking fire was built and the whole place took on the snug appearance of a home of sorts. The rumble of the falls provided the background music of nature.
We settled in.
After about a week a tribe of local redskins came to our encampment. They were particularly fine looking people and Dave, who had some knowledge of their language, was able to talk with them. They discussed many things and he found he needed all his patience to get on friendly terms with these people. They were great at beating around the bush, but eventually he felt he was trusted enough to barter with them for horses. He found that some of our stocks, of little real importance to us, bought him six sturdy indian ponies. The redskins sealed the deal with feasting and dancing and we were invited along. The festivities went well after dark and on the following morning they arrived bright eyed and bushy tailed and asked us to go on a buffalo hunt with them. Dave agreed, feeling it was important to stay on friendly terms with them and he, Therese and a couple of others said they would join the hunt.
"Come on Barb." he said.
"Oh shit no. Me and horses aren't all that good together."
"Hey come on. You'll love it." He kissed me gently.
Weak fool I nodded assent. I climbed onto a horse and we all rode out to meet the indians. Dave, Therese and the other guys rode like they were born in the saddle. I rode like a no-hoper. When we reached the redskin camp there were about twenty of them ready to go, roughly half men and half women. All were stripped to the waist and greased up as I well remembered. The boy indians had buckskin pants and moccassins and looked fabulously manly and the girl indians wore little loincloths and were bare foot and looked incredibly sexy. With a lot of yahooing off we went. I clopped along, sort of keeping up but certainly not in the van. We breasted a rise, a word that took on new meaning for those gorgeous indian girls, and there were buffalo as far as the eye could see. Well, with a lot of yippeeing off they all went like mad people. The indians were very skillful and swept in and out amongst the herd flashing across the paths of galloping buffalo and loosing their deadly arrows. Black beasts went down left, right and centre. Dave and Therese and the others got a couple with their rifles and me? well, I just sort of yippeed a lot and rode around the edges.
I was yippeeing and hoping no-one had noticed I wasn't really near the action, after all, a buffalo hunter with eyeglasses? Anyway, I was making so much noise that I didn't notice that new howls had been added to the general racket. Not that is until one of the semi naked indian girls toppled off her horse and fell under the hooves of the buffalo. Well, I thought she'd had a fall, but then the beasts thundered over her, crushing her with their hooves, and her lifeless body came flicking out to one side, rolling over and over, slim arms and legs flopping and scissoring. She ended up spreadeagled on her back, arms and legs outflung and it was then I saw the haft of an arrow buried in her breast and snapped off by her fall. I looked about and there, making an almighty racket of war cries, were a different band of savages and they were letting fly with their arrows and I saw another three of our indians go down. One was a bloke, skewered through the head and the other two were girls, shot in their backs. The others had obviously seen the hostiles before I did and were fighting back. Dave, Therese and our men, turned their long rifles on the attackers and were creating a terrible slaughter. I rode for safety, but came too close to the herd which was still in full stampede, my horse panicked and bucked and I was thrown over his head. He galloped off and I sprawled face down on the prairie. I rolled over and sat up and checked to be sure my glasses were still there and weren't broken. I looked up and there above me was a fearsome savage, lance raised and aimed at my heart. I looked at death and couldn't believe it.
It was Wa-cha-ka-wa!
Recognition dawned and he said "Cha-ku-la!"
Then his lance drew back and I could only stare at the sharpened tip, red with blood as it hung unwaveringly over me, centimetres from my left breast and pointed directly at my heart and I knew I was a goner.