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Subject: {ASSM} FrontierWoman Part 2 [mf, nc, inter, vio]
Date: Fri, 14 Jul 2000 18:10:13 -0400
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Standard Disclaimer: Story has strong sexual situations and violence,
should not be read by minors or those offended by such stories! I do
not in any way condone violence against women, this is a work of
fiction and should be read with that knowledge! People who abuse
women belong in prison!!!
Part II:
Nakota, the Crow brave who had ridden off with Mrs. Hansen,
couldn't take much more. With his hard tool in his hand, he ran over
to the nude Mrs. Hansen still thrashing in the creek, and motioned for
her to roll over on her stomach. "Please...Please...." She begged,
but of course they didn't know what she was saying. The other braves
started hooting and hollering unintelligible to the once prudish white
woman. Mrs. Hansen continued to beg as Nakota physically rolled her
over on her stomach and quicker than a mountain lion, slid his cock
into her dry ass, making her scream that much more. He grabbed her
long brown hair with one hand and her shoulder with the other and
humped her violently in the shallow pool of water. Nakota began
shouting in Crow like a crazy man before dumping his load deep within
her bowels. When he was done, he motioned to the others to take her.
One by one they raped Mrs. Hansen in the ass and manhole, after nearly
three hours, Mrs. Hansen woke, still in the water. Her joints, her
ass, and her pussy ached. The cool water streaming on her, revived
her quickly and she jumped up to fight again, only to find she was
alone. The Crows believing her to be dead or dying had left her.
She washed herself deeply with the water and knew she was
going to die. She was a nude white woman with no means of defending
herself, nor did she know where she was, only that she was in the
wilderness of the dakotas. After she felt as clean as she was going
to get, she got up and wondered around, eating berries not knowing if
they were poisonous or not, nor did she care. She made a makeshift
shelter and laid down and quickly went to sleep.
"Damn, I wonder what she's doing out here and how did she get
out here?" The trapper wondered as he cautiously looked around
looking for sign, but not finding any. Standing near his horse, but
distanced from her, he threw a couple of pine combs on her. Mrs.
Hansen woke with a start and began thrashing around. "Hey, hey, now,
I'm not going to hurt you, Ma'am." The trapper said. Mrs. Hansen
looked toward him blinking her eyes, not really believing someone was
speaking English to her. "Here Ma'am, put this on, Okay?" The
trapper said as he threw Mrs. Hansen an extra shirt he had in his
saddle bag. Mrs. Hansen grabbed the shirt and quickly put it on and
then stood. "What are you doing out here, Ma'am?" The trapper asked.
She, still talking a little crazy like, began telling him of her
kidnapping and her whole ordeal. "Whaalll, you're safe now, Ma'am.
But we need to skidaddle out of here, we are in Injun country!" He
responded and got on his horse and held his hand out toward her. As
though she couldn't believe her good fortune, she slowly reached out
her hand and allowed him to pull her up behind him on his horse. She
hugged him tightly and began to cry tears of joy.
Mark Johnson had lived in the Dakotas for several years,
making a meager living by trapping, mostly beaver, mink, fox, and
whatever he could sell at the rendevous. Actually, he had done pretty
well. He lived in the Dakota's, the Indians pretty well left him
alone, not that he rocked the boat at all either. His long gray beard
streaked by tobacco juice and lack of proper grooming, he looked much
older than his 40 years.
"We are going to my cabin, Ma'am, you can clean yourself up a
bit and git sumpin to eat." Mark related to the woman. "I need to
get to Dry Gulch." She whispered. "DRY GULCH!? We are at least 2
week ride from Dry Gulch!" He responded. "Two weeks...." She said
to herself not realizing how far she had traveled unconscious most of
the way. "And with winter approaching....we won't be going anywhere
that far...now!" He continued. She said nothing.
About dusk, Mark and Mrs. Hansen rode into a clearing where
Mark had chosen to build his one room log cabin a few years back. A
leanto for the horses were attached to the house, timber on 3 sides
and a sheer rock wall on the North side made the house virtually
undetectable. A spring ran along the timber on one side. "Ah, home
sweet home," Mark said with a sigh as he helped the woman down before
getting down himself. "I'm going to attend to the horse, you're
welcome to go in the house, it ain't much but it'll git us through the
winter." He said as he led his horse toward the leanto.
Margaret opened the solid hinged door and stepped in the cabin
and sighed, "no, it's not much!" How she longed for her own house and
for....John." She sat heavily on a handmade chair, if you could call
it that, and sighed.
She jumped as the trapper came through the door, in his hands
he had a leg of venison from the smoke pit. "We'll put this in the
pot and cook it up for supper." He said as he began flittering around
the familiar surroundings. After lighting a fire in the rock
fireplace, he poured water over the chunk of meat and hung the pot
over the fire. Mrs. Hansen had not eaten for at least 2 days and the
smell of the meat cooking almost overcame her. They ate in silence,
the only light in the cabin came from the fire in the fireplace, even
in the dim light, Mark could see that Mrs. Hansen was quite pretty and
he knew for a fact she had an even nicer body, although she needed a
bit more meat on her. The weeks of being captive had taken its toll
on Mrs. Hansen, her once robust build now only a shell of its former
self, skinny, but that made her breasts even more prominent than
before. She felt the trappers eyes on her, but she had gone through
so much it didn't phase her. "Damn, we nearly ate that whole leg of
venison!" Mark noticed and chuckled. "Thank you so much, I was so
hungry...." She said, her eyes cast down toward the floor. "Well
there's more where that came from, I've been trapping all summer and
fall and have a lot of meat smoked for winter. By the way, do you
know how to sew?" He asked. She nodded. "Well, I have quite a
stockpile of skins in the crib outside and you're welcome to sew you
up some clothes. I don't have store bought sewing stuff but I do have
sinew ready from which I make my own clothes." He related. "Thank
you." She replied, but right I just need sleep.
Mark cleaned a corner out for her and laid down a stack of
pelts for her and said, "It ain't much but it's better than pine
combs." He chuckled. The woman's body ached as she stood and made
her way to the pile of pelts and fell heavily into them, and sighing
as she felt their softness against her skin.
Mrs. Hansen woke the next morning to the smell of roasting
meat. She opened her eyes and was surprised that the dark cabin was
lit up bright. Mark had opened the wood shutters to allow the early
morning light in. She stirred and stretched and said, "Nature calls."
And made her way out of the cabin. Mark had just scooped her a plate
of fried potatoes and some bacon and put it on the makeshift table, "I
kilt me a couple of hogs just last week, a special treat for us, got a
couple of pails of lard too." He whispered not being used to talking
with someone. "Smells wonderful!" The woman said as she sat down.
As they started to eat, Mark stiffened and rolled his eyes as if
listening to the forest. "What?" Mrs. Hansen said. Mark held up a
finger to his mouth, shushing her. "Just hearing things, I suppose."
He said and picked up his fork. A few minutes later, the door swung
open, Mrs. Hansen screamed out of surprise and looked over at Mark
just as the large bowie knife penetrated his chest, blood trickled out
of his mouth and nose. He fell backward, dead before hitting the
floor. Mrs. Hansen still screaming, tried to stand but a large hand
on her shoulder forced her to remain seated. "Well well well, looky
here what the weasel found!" A grizzled voice said as another hand
snaked over her shoulder and grabbed the meat on her plate.
"Who are you and what do you want!" She demanded. The giant
bear of a man let out a barrel laugh and said, "As of right now, I
have no more wants. I got me a nice house, a couple of horses, skins
to sell, meat in the fire, and on top of it all, a woman!" The man
guffawed. Mrs. Hansen looked wildly about her for anything she could
grab and hurt this man. He easily grabbed her hands and rolled her
out of the chair, she landed on the trapper's body and tried to find
the knife only to hear, "is this whut you looking for, woman?" She
looked up and saw the knife going into the man's sheath on his belt.
"Now, you is my woman from now on. I want you to drag this man out of
my house." He demanded. Mrs. Hansen just laid on the floor. "I
ain't telling you twice, do it!" He again demanded. Mrs. Hansen
stood and taking ahold of Mark's feet, began to drag him. "Don't
think of running, nowhere to run to!" He guffawed again, his mouth
full of bacon. The giant man followed as she with great difficulty
tried dragging Mark out of the cabin. "You could give me a hand?"
She spit the words out at the giant. Working together, Mrs. Hansen
and the giant mountain man dragged the dead body out of the house and
into the timber.
Pete, no one knew his last name, not even him, was a drifter
and opportunist. He had rendevous several times with Mark and knew
him quite well. He knew he would be easy pickins. Compared to Mark,
Pete was a giant. He stood over 6'4" tall and weighed 250 pounds, not
loose fat, mind you, but solid. His salt and peppered beard and long
hair made him look even bigger.
"Hell, I didn't know Mark had him a woman up here or I would
have been up here sooner." He said outloud more to himself than her.
She became painfully aware of the fact that under Mark's shirt she was
nude. "Please, don't let this happen to me." She prayed. "It's been
a long time since I've been with a woman outside of whores at
rendevous." He laughed. She backed up like she was about to run, when
faster than a snake strike, he grabbed her long hair. "Oww.." She
screamed. Holding her hair with one hand, he ripped her shirt off
with the other, revealing her alabaster reddish skin. He whistled and
threw the woman down to the dirt, pressing his knee into her belly to
keep her still. She began fighting him viciously, swing her arms and
fists. He slapped her into omission. She laid still crying as he
quickly unharnessed his belt and pulled his pants down to his knees,
exposing his long hard cock. "This is what you want, isn't it," he
teased as he pumped his cock a couple of times. He pried her legs
open, and spit a long line of tobacco juice toward her brown bush.
With two fingers, he pressed into her and up and down her manhole.
"Wouldn't want to hurt myself, now would we." He guffawed. He
positioned himself over the limp woman and pressed his cock against
her, feeling her labia begin to open up to give him access, after the
cockhead disappeared, he pulled her roughly against him, causing a
gasp to come from her. He humped hard and fast against the woman,
while his hands mauled her breasts and pinched her nipples bringing
gasps of pain from her lips. "You better than most whores I've had."
He complimented and turned his head to spit. Like a ragdoll, her body
flailed as he raped her. After several minutes he groaned and dumped
his load deep into her and pulled out of her with a slurp. She lay
still for several seconds before the man reached down and grabbed her
hair again, "clean me up woman!" And pulled Mrs. Hansen's face toward
his semi erect cock, glistening from cum. She gagged and vomited half
digested bacon and potatoes on his pants and the small space of ground
between them. "Clean me up. I feel dirty and my yearly bath is still
3 months away!" He demanded. She continued to dry heave as she
pressed her face against his crotch, the smell completely
overwhelming. He guffawed and pulled his pants on. "Git over there
and wash up." He said pointing to the stream. I expect lunch in an
hour.
Mrs. Hansen, nude, washed in the stream and returned to the
house to find him all ready there, smiling. "Comere, woman and give
your man a kiss." He demanded. She tried to side step him, only to
have him grab her and pull her to him. He pressed his tobacco stained
bearded face toward her and gave her a kiss and squeezed her bare ass.
"Now, cook me some lunch!" He ordered. She went toward the pile of
skins and picked up a shirt, "Hell no!" He screamed. You are not ever
to wear clothes, understand!" He shouted and backhanded her hard
across the cheek. She hit the floor and remained there for a few
seconds before getting to the task at hand. As she fried the potatoes
and cut some meat she saw no way out of her present situation.
With Mrs. Hansen's back toward him, he silently stripped out
of his clothes and sat back down. He rubbed his hairy chest and arms
and exclaimed, "Oh Damn, look at that!" The exclamation made Margaret
turn around, only to find the hairest man she'd ever seen nude and
holding his giant hard cock in his hand. "I got another one, I guess
from watching you flitter around!" He laughed. "Come on over here."
He motioned. Shaking her head she pleaded, "No..please." He
continued to motion. "Get down on your knees, woman, and do what you
were created to do!" Crying, she knelt down in front of him. "Come
on, show me whatcha got, bite and I'll make you wish you'd never been
born!" Tears clouded her eyes as she opened her mouth and took the
giant cockhead into her mouth, she fought back gagging. He rested his
hands on her head as she worked his tool. "Woman, you not a bad fuck,
but as a cocksucker, you're shitty!" He laughed. She continued to
suck and lick his shaft up and down. "This ain't going to take all
night is it?" He guffawed as he playfully struck her hard against the
head. "Fuck this!" His cock slipped out of her grasp as he stood up.
She fearfully looked down to the floor, a stance Taubansee taught her.
He yanked her up by her hair and said, "bend over." She did so
immediately, not wanting to be hit anymore, he reached over and
grabbed some lard from a bowl on the table and lathered her buttocks
up. She tensed, he forced her legs apart and without much fanfare,
easily slid his monsterous hardon into her bowels bringing a cry of
pain from her lips. She stood erect only to be forced back down by
his hand. Pete plunged his erection in and out of her ass until he
stiffened and spewed cum into her bowels. He pulled out and went over
to the bed to lie down. "Get back to cookin woman!" He said and
closed his eyes. She looked back at him and looked at the Sharps .50
rifle leaning against the wall, only to have him say, "don't even
think about it." She looked back toward him and saw a menacing Colt
.44-40 barrel pointing at her. He giggled, his belly jumping up and
down like jello.
The mountain man Pete and Mrs. Hansen stayed the winter at
Mark's cabin. He took liberties with her as often as he wanted,
sometimes up to 4 times daily. Despite the abuse, Mrs. Hansen's body
healed of the sunburns, the joint pain, and she put on weight, almost
back to her pre-captive weight. It burned her to no end to think that
she ended up like this, a slave, to a calloused uncaring man that
cared nothing for her except that she could work, cook, and fuck. He
told her numerous occasions that that's what the good lord put women
on earth for. He told her he loved her, but that still didn't keep
him from tying her up when they slept, "a man's gotta be cautious you
know!"
Margaret came back from the spring, toting 2 buckets of water
and met Pete in the clearing with two horses saddled and a pack horse.
Put some skins on woman, we are going to rendevous!
Part III maybe, if there is renewed interest, feedback necessary.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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