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Message-ID: <61499asstr$1316481030@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Shon Richards <shonrichards@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: Shon Richards <shonrichards@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Cadaverous Can-Can (Western, Fem Stripping, Undead Harlots)
Lines: 201
Date: Mon, 19 Sep 2011 21:10:30 -0400
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<1st attachment, "CanCan.doc" begin>

This erotic story was written by me, Shon Richards.  Please do
not reprint on your website, blog, love letters to your lover etc
without asking me first.  I have yet to refuse a reprint but
let's just be polite about it, okay?

You can write to me at shonrichards at yahoo.com.  I will be
delighted to hear your comments.

Find out what I am up to at http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com/
as well as read my more current work. 


"The Cadaverous Can-Can"
By Shon Richards

It was a somber night at the Big Cup Saloon.  The drinkers were
drinking in silence.  The whores were barely talking dirty.  The
gamblers were making intelligent bets based on probability and
not sheer guts.  It was a depressing October night.

The empty stage was a terrible reminder of what had happened last
night.  The Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets had come all the way from
Chicago to perform their famous naughty act.  They had come out
onto the stage right as a nasty fight was breaking out over by
the poker tables.  Guns were drawn and eighty shots were fired in
a mad battle for survival.   

Only one of the gunfighters had been killed, but all twenty of
the Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets had been shot dead.  Being loose
women, the local preacher wouldn't let them be buried in the town
graveyard.  There was an old Injun burial ground that was used
instead.  Being from out of town, no one was willing to buy them
coffins, so they were dumped into a mass grave with their flirty
costumes still on.

Because of the violence of last night, the saloon owner, Big
Hank, wouldn't let anyone bring their guns in.  All of the
firearms were locked in a safe by the door.  People grumbled but
it was the only saloon in town.  They turned in their side irons
and tried to get a drink and some pussy.

About the only thing that was good about that quiet night was a
newcomer in town.  Her name was Texanah and she had tits bigger
than the whiskey barrels.  She had long blonde hair that spilled
out of her cowboy hat and a tight ass that she encased in even
tighter jeans.  The woman was a one tramp whorehouse and she had
been drinking and fucking all day in the spare room upstairs.  I
heard she wasn't even paying Big Hank for the room.  She just let
him watch while she fucked anyone with ten dollars in their
pockets. 

But not even Texanah could revive this dead night.  The swearing
was half hearted and not even that asshole, Florida Bloyd could
get a fight started.  I was playing the piano and no one was
making requests.  The damn place felt cursed.

Pretty soon, we found out we were cursed.  It started with a
scream at the door.  Big Hank's muscle man, Dirty Paul, was
screaming like a girl who just got poked for the first time.  It
was an awful inhuman scream.  We all looked at him and saw what
the fuss was about.  He had a woman ripping his guts out, and
here is the sick part, she was jamming those guts into her
mouth.

Oh lordy, she wasn't alone.  There about twenty women pushing
their way through the door.  They shambled into the saloon still
wearing the dirt covered dance clothes we buried them in.  It was
the Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets, and they were back from the dead!
 They were also pissed as Hell and hungry for flesh!

Things got crazy.  No one had any guns and all of the weapons
were locked in a safe that was covered in Dirty Paul's blood. 
The Strumpets stumbled forward, their pale tits jiggling within
their tight corsets.  Their torn skirts revealed flashes of dirty
thighs and shins.  Any one stupid enough to get within arm's
reach of them was torn apart by supernatural strength.  The
undead dancers would pause to eat the body but mostly they seemed
more interested in the live meat.

"Give me your fucking skirt!" Texanah yelled.  A whore next to
her jumped and started to undo her dress.  Texanah had no time
for that shit.  She grabbed a hold of that skirt and ripped it
straight off her body.  

The Strumpets shambled closer and ate poor Old Man Ollie. 
Texanah ignored them and chucked off her jeans.  The people in
the saloon were conflicted.  Sure, there were nasty undead
dancers coming closer, but Texanah just bared her ass to
everybody.  They didn't know who to keep an eye on.

Texanah wrapped the skirt around her and climbed onto the empty
stage.  "Play some god damn dancing music!" she yelled.  

I started playing.  As soon as the music played, Texanah started
dancing.  Boy, could that girl kick high!  Her legs snapped up
into the air and her skirt billowed like a flower opening in
spring.  Even though she was wearing cowboy boots, that girl was
dancing pretty fast.  Every kick of her leg would flash her cooch
to the entire saloon.  

The men were spellbound but the Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets were
watching too.  They started growling; a terrible nasty sound of
the damned.  I had worked with enough women to know that sound. 
They were jealous.

The Strumpets jerked.  All of them twitched in the same identical
manner.  Their backs arched and their hips moved.  The walking
corpses spasmed in harmony with each other.  They formed a line
in the saloon and they danced.

Holy shit.  The cadavers can-caned with a fury you wouldn't
expect out of dead women.  They grabbed their skirts and kicked
even higher than Texanah!  They flashed their unholy thighs and
garters at us with each hellish kick.

Texanah seemed to take that as a challenge.  She kept dancing and
stripped off her shirt.  Her big bountiful tits bounced with each
kick.  Texanah jumped in the air and spread her legs out in mid
air like she was mounting a horse.  She swung her hips around and
humped the air in the most decadent manner I have ever seen.  I
don't know what kind of dancing that was, but it sure as Hell was
dirty.

The Strumpets growled again.  They danced harder.  Desperate to
outdo Texanah, they ripped their clothes to reveal bullet holes
and big cold breasts.  Some of the men screamed in horror as the
Strumpets showed a little too much dead skin and blood.  

The Strumpets didn't care.  They did more elaborate steps around
each other.  Around and round they danced, ducking under each
other's arms and legs in a beautifully choreographed display of
teamwork and skill.  Even dead, they were the best Can-Can
dancers in the country.

Texanah was grabbing her tits and shaking her ass at the crowd. 
The crowd of terrified and oddly horny men cheered louder for
Texanah.  The trampy blonde didn't have the skill of the
Strumpets but she made up for it with a trainload of passion. 
Texanah danced because it was so much like fucking.

The Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets  had had enough.  Still dancing,
they slowly filed onto the stage.  Their legs still kicking, the
lined back up on the stage to grab the audience's attention.  

To my surprise, Texanah let them have the stage.  She moved away
as they crowded her off and she jumped down when there was no
more room.  The crowd sighed but they were smart enough not to
boo.  

The Strumpets really went into their act then.  They danced their
little unbeating hearts out.  One of them jumped in the air and
something disgusting flew off her body.  Another one did a
cartwheel and left her hand on stage.  They kept on dancing
though.  They weren't going to let a thing like decomposition
slow them down.

BAM! BAM! BAM! Three of the Strumpets suddenly lost their heads
in a red mist.  

Texanah had cracked open the safe and gotten the guns out! 
Butt-naked except for her hats and boots, Texanah had a pistol in
each hand.  She fired on the dancers who were all conveniently
lined up in a row.  She aimed for the head, taking each one out
with a single shot to the face.  When she exhausted her guns, she
would drop them and grab more off the safe.  

When the gunsmoke cleared, all of the Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets
were dead again.  The lack of heads kept them down this time. 
The crowd let out a sigh of relief that the nightmare was over.

Texanah was pissed.  "God damn, couldn't one of you assholes have
done this while I was dancing?"

No one had an answer for that.  To make up for it, we dragged
that smart ass pastor out of his church and made him give a good
Christian burial to each and every one of those damned souls.  We
built them coffins with locks on them and we buried them in the
church graveyard.    

As for Texanah, she left after the last funeral.  "It is time for
me to move on," she said.  "This place is too dead for me."

The end.

If you enjoyed this story please drop me a line at shonrichards
at yahoo.com.
Or visit my blog at http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com/



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