4 comments/ 4872 views/ 9 favorites High Moon By: BrainVamp Foreword: The Indian Girl is of course a Native American girl, it just didn't feel right to use the modern terminology when talking about her. Also I would love to get your comments on this piece or any other piece I posted around here. 1. The town's name has no importance; it's just another new settlement in the middle of the Wild West. The single dusty main street, burnt by the relentless sun, is bordered by the typical saloon, the typical church and the typical sheriff's office. Surrounding these essential commodities the regular shops of hardware have grown like weed to fix the needs of the wilderness. The moon is high in the sky but the town hasn't fallen asleep yet. The saloon is pretty crowded tonight as the miners just got their pay. Behind the bar, Gertrud Weber observes her little dominion. She's happy as she usually makes most of her profits on nights like this one. She smiles. Five of the eight tables are occupied by poker games. A very large trapper, which goes by the nickname of The Grizzly, is sitting at one of them. Gertrud can feel that the small professional player that is slowly taking the upper hand won't make it through the night. The Grizzly doesn't like to lose. But the Grizzly hasn't noticed yet that the small man is skimming him and he has already drank his fair share of liquor, so The Grizzly is happy. He smiles. In the most remote corner of the saloon, below the small staircase, the largest table of the house is occupied by the greasy carcass of old Sean O'Connor. In front of him stands his bottle of twelve years old whiskey imported directly from the dark valleys of Scotland. O'Connor owns the mine, he also owns the large ranch in the outskirts of town, in a way or another everyone works for old O'Connor. He technically owns the town. His wealth makes him happy. He smiles too. By the crumbling piano a small Indian girl is sitting on a high stool. She has no family, no tribe, she doesn't speak but she observes. She observes how the so called civilization has taken everything from her and she is angry, she doesn't smile. She waits; she waits for the balance to be restored. And if her short life has taught her anything, it's patience. The other tables are occupied by the usual crowd, miners, trappers, gunslingers. The cheap grain alcohol Gertrud brews at the back of the saloon has been pouring all night. The tension in the air is palpable but as long as the money comes out of the pockets of the workers and into Gertrud's, the old German whore doesn't care if a few men decide to have a bit of a fist play. It's part of the trade. The rooms in the first floor are all occupied and there's a long line of dirty, smelly and filthy men waiting in line on the stairs to get a moment of ecstasy in the arms of one of the girls. Yet tonight, one girl is missing. Many men wonder where sweet little Dixie has gone. Sweet little Dixie; youngest daughter of the McCrery family was left orphan after the bloody Indian raid last spring. To the old hag's usual customers' delight the young girl was been greeted by Gertrud into her flock. Dixie's tender manners and smooth skin made her one of the jewels of Gertrud's selection. The miners wouldn't hesitate to pay a little extra to have the privilege of sharing her bed. But tonight, on this busy night, many are disappointed. Gertrud doesn't seem to care... *** Not so far from away from the town, there's an unmarked grave in the middle of the plain. A coyote attracted to it by the prospect of an easy meal, wanders around the disturbed soil. The proud animal sniffs it, turns around it for a while and soon, feeling the presence of some unnatural force, runs away. The coyote is a wise creature in contact with the very soul of the wild. The coyote knows when it is a good time to leave. Humans on the other hand have long lost this ability to feel the disturbance in the natural order of things... At first, under the full moon, nothing happens. But soon the dirt starts to tremble, something is trying to dig its way out, something is trying to leave the cold embrace of the earth. Suddenly, three fingers rise above the ground, they are followed by a full hand, an arm, a shoulder and finally a face covered in the red dirt of the plain. The face is one of a young woman, a young beautiful woman. But the woman's traits are altered by fear and hate. Her eyes, blue as the clear water of a bursting spring just a few days before, are now burning with the fires of hell. This is what she has brought back with her, Hell... *** The head resting on the large pile of pelts he plans on selling tomorrow in town, Eli is asleep by a small pond. By his side the remnants of his dinner, a small rabbit, are slowly combusting in the dying fire. The flask of homemade liquor is empty by his side. Just by his hand, a beautiful peacemaker rests, full of deadly promises. A bit further away, his old and clever horse is unsettled. There's something wrong coming this way, the animal thinks. He tries to pull on its leash but Eli is always careful when it comes to his horse and the knot will not come off. The horse complains but his master is far too drunk tonight to hear the warning. On the other side of the clearing a ghostly figure enters the pond. The water around it turns red with the dirt. The figure dives into the freezing water. Soon it resurfaces a bit further away. The face, now cleaned of the dirt and confusion, rises towards the pale light of the moon. She seems to sniff the wind. She turns towards the fading circle of light at the center of Eli's camp. She gets out of the water and approaches the nervous horse. As she has done it many times before with her father's animals, she lays a hand on the front of the animal and grabs his large nostrils. She bends forward, pressing her cheek against the warm coat of the horse's head and whispers to his hear. "Help me, help me do right," she repeats. The sweet and tender voice of the women slowly subjugates the animal. There's now an unbreakable bond between the two creatures. She then kneels by the fire to dry her wet naked body at the heat of the still red embers. For a long time she observes her pale fingers. Finally she grabs one of the half chewed rabbit bones and sniffs it. She's so hungry. She sticks the bone in her mouth but the taste repulses her. She spits it out. She looks at the bone. She used to love rabbit. Eli has finally woken up. In a reflex he has grabbed his revolver but the sight in front of him has taken all his wits away. A beautiful naked woman kneeling by his fire in the middle of nowhere, he has fantasized about it a thousand times, but it has never happened, it can't happen. This must be a dream. The woman turns around. He knows her; she works for that old German hag that runs the brothel in the town downriver. "Dixie?" The woman recognizes the name. "Dixie, what are you doing here?" But the woman doesn't answer; she looks at him. The fog of the alcohol is still all over his mind. Is he dreaming? "Dixie, what happened to you?" The young woman crawls towards him, she lays by his side passing an arm around his chest. "I'm cold," she whispers. Eli puts his gun back in its holster, he grabs the blanket that has rolled on his feet and covers the naked girl. The girl curls up even more against him as if she wanted to take all the warmth from him. Her tiny cold hand slips below his shirt. Her fingers are cold. He can't help himself from having an erection. "I'm hungry," she continues. Her hand is now slowly moving down Eli's belly. It slips inside his pants, gently wraps the turgescent manhood. Eli jumps. She starts slowly stroking him, up and down, and up, and down again. Eli who, for the last eight months, has been holed up in the mountains far, far away from the touch of a woman quickly shrugs and comes. The woman looks at her fingers covered in the man's offering and licks them. She closes her eyes, as the thick liquid explodes against her taste buds and fills her with the most extreme delight. She pushes the blanket away and rising above the trapper, she tears the shirt open. She wraps her hands around the man's belt and shreds the thick fabric of his pants. In the light of the moon, Eli's organ is flask, slowly dripping cum. The woman looks at it with hunger. She lowers herself between his legs and takes the dick between her lips. Cupping his balls with her fingers, she laps at the remnant seed with avidity. The tip of her tongue searches around the recesses of the head to get every drop of it. Eli is ready again. She crawls back on his chest and impales herself. Her cold dripping pussy absorbs every inch of Eli's Manhood. "Will you help me?" she growls. Their faces are so close right now that Eli can finally see her clearly. He can see the madness hidden behind her eye, her oversized canines, her hunger, her lust. Eli knows he should be running, but something stops him. Maybe it is the will to help the poor girl, maybe it's his need for affection. He knows his life will soon end but he doesn't really care. "Yes," he answers, "I will help you." At the acceptance of the sacrifice the woman howls in the night. And she starts feeding, biting the strong trapper on the mouth, on the cheeks, on the neck, on the chest. She draws blood and drinks it. She indulges her unnatural needs. She accepts herself for what she has become, a terrible creature of madness, a blunt instrument of revenge. As the monster feeds, Dixie enjoys freedom for the first time in a long while... 2. Three weeks have passed and life has moved on in the small valley surrounding the town. A loner has arrived with a bunch of pelts. The travelling dealer has bought the load and has waited three more days for Eli to arrive but the trapper has never shown up. With the unexpected shipment of pelts the travelling dealer has moved on back to the mountains to bring the pelts to be transformed in his factory and sent back east. The burial of the professional player has been quick and the sheriff has looked the other way. The Grizzly being one of old O'Connor most trusted men, the law wouldn't dare to make a move against him. It's the law of the strongest, the law of the west. The miners have gone back to the mine and the streets have become safe again for the hard working and god fearing flock of Reverend Fulton. A herd has crossed the plain and has moved down south towards the big spring cattle market. Gertrud has beaten two of her girls, The Grizzly has been gone for a week to do no good somewhere else and O'Connor has appropriated the old McCrery's lands, but no one has asked about the disappearance of poor little Dixie. The Indian girl in the saloon has stayed on her stool, patiently waiting for the return of the balance. *** Mary Ann Fulton should know better than to be out alone so late in the prairie. She has spent the afternoon at the Jeffrey's helping out Mrs. Jeffrey with her sewing and she hasn't seen the night falling outside. Now she has to walk through the valley back to town under the light of the moon. Her white dress reflecting the dim light makes her stand out. Despite the fact that she's a girl from the country, she's also used to be home by nightfall and the howling coyotes in the background don't make her comfortable. Suddenly she stops. Has she heard the footsteps of a horse? She turns around but there's no one in sight. She ducks among the high herbs and waits for a while. Nothing around but the usual sounds of the night. She stands again and turns towards town. There it is again: the horse's footsteps. She stops for the second time but there's still no one in sight. She starts walking again when suddenly she spots it: a man on a horse on the top of small hill ahead of her. The rider is looking at her. She knows she can't run, pedestrians will never outrun a horse, so she waits. For a very long time the silhouette stands on the hill looking down at her. In the night she's unable to see its features but it looks like a small man wearing a poncho and a large hat. Finally the man kicks his horse and leads it towards her. He stops the horse just a few yards away from her. "Good evening sir," she says in the firmest tone she can manage. "Good evening to you Mary Ann." The rider is actually a woman and Mary Ann recognizes her voice. "Dixie?" "Dixie? You're not the first one to call me that..." "Dixie? Are you all right?" The rider doesn't answer, she unmounts the horse. Mary Ann spots the shiny peacemaker hanging from her friend's belt. She shrugs. The rider approaches the daughter of the Reverend; she passes by her and turns around her friend. "Dixie... For a moment there you had me terrified." "I know." "You know that father doesn't want me to hang around you anymore." "I know." "He says that you're doomed and that we shouldn't mingle with you." "Oh my sweet Mary Ann," the rider is now behind her, so close that she can feel her cold breath, "you don't know how right he is." The arms of the rider wrap around the waist of the girl. Mary Ann shivers. Something weird is happening to her. "But don't you remember? Don't you remember the time before? The time when I was just another peasant's daughter? The time when we were simple friends?" "Yes..." Mary Ann answers, "Yes I remember that time." "And don't you miss that time, my sweet Mary Ann?" whispers the rider to Mary Ann's hear. The rider's mouth is now slowly moving up and down the young woman's neck. Her cold tongue playing with her hear lobe. "Yes... I mean no... Not like that..." The rider forces Mary Ann to face her. The large hat has fallen on the rider's back held by the leather lace around her neck. Mary Ann can finally see the face of her friend. She shivers again. Dixie's eyes are burning with a terrible fire. The rider plants a chaste kiss on her friend's lips and releases her. The reverend's daughter caught off guard falls on her ass. Dixie lets out quick cruel laugh. "Mary Ann, always so clumsy." She seats by her friend's side. She then slowly lies back in the middle of the tall grass of the prairie looking at the full moon above her. "Dixie... I should be going now, my parents will..." "Shhh, lay by my side, enjoy the night, look at the beautiful moon, forget about the rest..." There's something compelling about the rider's voice, something alluring, something wrong. Mary Ann hesitates. "I should really..." "Should you? I don't remember everything but I do remember a time when you were the one to have the bad ideas. You were the one who wanted to go and watch the boys swim by the river. You were the one that wanted to steal the money from the church's trunk to buy that nail varnish at the drug store; and I was the one preventing you from getting in trouble." "What happened to you?" Mary Ann asks suddenly. The rider looks at the sky for a long time before answering. "I don't know, I think I died..."she finally says in a whisper. Mary Ann doesn't know what to answer so she lies back in the grass and starts admiring the stars. "So you're of ghost or something?" she finally asks. The rider stands on her elbow looking at her friend. She finally bends forward and presses her lips against her friends. Her tongue parts Mary Ann's lips. The kiss finally breaks. "Could a ghost do that?" she says licking her friend's warm saliva from her lips. Mary Ann giggles. "I don't know... let's try it again." She says putting a hand around her friend's neck and forcing her into a second longer kiss. "Dixie? Why are you so cold?" she asks after taking her breath. "I don't know maybe I brought back some of the cold of the tomb with me..." The rider's hand has found its way below her friends dress. She starts playing through the rough fabric of Mary Ann, with the now moist intimacy of her friend. "Take it off," she orders. "Give me a hand then," Mary Ann says offering her back to the rider. The rider's hands free her friend from her tight dress. They face again. But as the rider is about to dive in for a third kiss the light of the moon catches the shiny metal of Mary Ann's cross. The rider jumps back. "I don't know what is happening, it hurts so much." The rider screams. Mary Ann closes in on her friends and takes her in her arms. The cross brushes against the rider's cheek leaving a dark stain of burnt flesh. The rider jumps again holding her face. She falls to her knees, crying. "What have I done?" Mary Ann pleads. "The cross... take it off... Please!" The reverend's daughter looks at the trinket around her neck and looks at her friend. She stops, for the first time she sees her for the demon she is. Her eyes full of hate, her mouth full of threatening fangs, her thick eyebrows, her protruding forehead, her devilish ears. Slowly she lifts the cross. "Be gone..." she starts, "be gone you fool creature of darkness..." "If this is how you want it to unfold..." growls the creature. The rider unwraps the poncho from her shoulders revealing her bare pale chest to the light of the moon. In a swift movement she closes the distance between Mary Ann and her and she wraps the reverend's daughter arms with the thick cloth. She pulls on the mantle breaking the chain and throws away the poncho with the cross mingled in it. Her hand wraps smoothly around her victim's neck. She tilts Mary Ann's head and sinks her fangs into the pulsating carotid artery. The warm blood starts pouring down the monster's throat. The girl's scream of terror turns to a loud moan of pleasure. The reverend's daughter experiences a ravaging orgasm and starts crying. The rider releases her victim and pushes her back to the ground. "I'm so sorry," Mary Ann says. The rider, towering above her in all her devilish majesty, licks the blood from her lips. "I'm so sorry," the girl repeats, "had I known..." "Had you known, you would have gone with the wind, you puritan fuck. It could have been much more pleasant, it could have been easy, but you had to listen to your stinking father and his worthless God. You should know that there are no such things as good and evil, there's only freedom and submission, you could have gotten freedom from me but now you'll only get slavery!" In the distance the rumbling of a searching party is approaching. The rider cuts her wrist and sticks it under the girl's mouth forcing her to drink her blood. She finally kneels by her friends' side and says: "You will remember nothing of tonight and you will wait for my return, is that clear?" Mary Ann can only answer: "Yes, I will wait for you ... Mistress." 3. And for the next two months life in the valley has gone on. The sickness of Mary Ann Fulton is soon on everybody's mind. The poor girl has been locked in a closed room of her family's room refusing to feed. She looks pale and the barber hasn't been unable to do anything for her. The miners pay has come and gone into the pockets of the hag Gertrud. The Grizzly has come back and killed a man with his bare hands over a petty dispute. O'Connor has the Sheriff removed and replaced by one of his own men, a mean fellow named Freddy. The good people of town have started worrying about the future but did nothing. The same herd has passed through the prairie again returning to their winter pastures. The Indian girl in the Saloon has stayed on her stool, listening to the music and waiting, once again patiently. *** The night has fallen on the small cabin behind the saloon. This afternoon Gertrud has beaten Suzie to a pulp because of a customer complaint, that is why the blond girl is asleep in one of the bug infested beds and not working the higher floor of the saloon. High Moon "Suzie?" The blond girl wakes up and looks around the empty room. "Suzie?" The voice seems to come from outside. She grabs a large shirt lying on chair. Her bruised face is killing her. "Suzie?" She looks out the window. No one in sight. "Suzie?" She stands and walks to the door. She steps outside. "Suzie?" The voice seems to be coming from behind the cabin, from the plain behind it. She walks around the house to find two silhouettes. Two small framed figures standing out in the moon light, her sight starts to accustom to the partial darkness and she recognizes Mary Ann, the reverend's daughter. The other figure is dressed like a man with a large poncho and a hat but has long smooth hair. "Come with us Suzie," says the girl in the hat. "Yes, come with us, we are so lonely tonight," says the reverend's daughter. Suzie wants to go with them but she hesitates, there's something pressing about the invitation something a bit too eager. "I shouldn't, Gertrud..." "After what she has done to you, are you going to continue listening to Gertrud?" says the woman in the hat. There's something familiar about that voice. It is associated in her mind with sweetness and envy. "Dixie?" "Maybe..." The woman in the hat answers, "come with us if you want to find out." But Suzie is not a fool. She knows that if Dixie is back the old Gertrud is going to kill her and that the German whore will kill her too if she's caught with the ungrateful runaway. "No she won't," says the woman in the hat as if she had read Suzie's mind. Suzie is out of arguments... Maybe she's not that clever after all, so she decides to follow the two girls into the prairie. They walk for a while; Suzie is tired; she is not dressed properly for a night expedition. Her naked body under the large shirt suffers from the freezing wind. The cold night air on her face numbs the pain. The two girls don't seem to want to stop. She tries to complain but the two figures continue. Finally they reach the forest. Suzie looks back and spots the lights of the town in the distance. When she turns around again the girls have disappeared between the trees. She is scared now. "Girls?" "Suzie, follow us, we want to show you something," says the daughter of the reverend. Suzie looks back at the town. She has a gut feeling telling her that this might be the last time she'll see it. But is there something for her back in the town? Wasn't Gertrud's repeated beatings proof of the contrary? Maybe her freedom lies in the forest, with the girls... She finally enters the pitch black darkness of the forest. She slowly makes her way through the trees. She trips every other step; the branches get caught in her shirt; spider webs cover her face; all sorts of insects crawl on her bruised legs; she falls, once, twice. But driven by an unnatural force, she stands and continues. The two girls ahead of her start giggling. "Come on Suzie." "Don't be so clumsy." "We won't wait for you all night." The teasing gets the best of her and she starts crying, silently sobbing. After what seems like an eternity she finally exists into a large clearing. In the middle of the clearing there's a large pond. The two girls are waiting for her naked on a large rock on the other side of the pond. Pale in the moon light, they look like emanations of another realm, a realm of magic and fright. "Is this a nightmare?" she asks. Dixie jumps into the water, quickly followed by Mary Ann. They continue giggling. "A nightmare? Is it so bad for you?" Suzie nods. "Come join us into the water then, we'll turn it around and take the fear away from you, we'll make this a delicious dream." Suzie steps into the water. The two girls are splashing each other as if they were two little kids on a sunny afternoon. The water reaches her thighs, her pussy, her belly, her tits. The two girls dive. The surface of the pond becomes still, unbroken. Suzie rests back, floating and looking at the full moon above her. The fatigue is washed away by the peacefulness of the forest. She's floating into the infinite vastness of the universe, held between two worlds by the water. The girls haven't resurfaced yet but she doesn't care because this is actually a dream, a delicious dream. Something brushes against her ass. Something tickles her foot. A hand caresses her inner thigh. A hand brushes through her hair. A mouth sucks on one of her fingers. A mouth kisses her neck. The bodies of the girls surround her, pressing their tits against her back, against her legs. She can feel the water against her swollen labia. She can feel the pleasure grow in her guts. A finger slips into her; a tongue licks her bruised face. A sharp pain to her left thigh is followed by a powerful sensation of bliss; another stinging burn at the base of her back and another one on her wrist and yet another between her legs, right on her pussy. She loses herself to the pleasure, the caresses, the bites. The water around the three girls slowly turns red, not of dirt this time but of the precious life of Suzie. The forest is all quiet around the clearing; the air is only disturbed by the screams of pleasure of the blonde. Meanwhile in the darkness of the forest a pair of children eyes observes the scene, waiting. "Wendigo," she whispers smiling. 4. With the winter coming life has gone on in the town. The trappers have gone north, the farmers have finished collecting their crops, the miners have found a new silver strain in the mountain and the reverend has mourned the disappearance of his daughter. The search parties have looked around the valley for weeks but found nothing. Whispers of shadowy figures on the prairie at night have started to circulate and some have claimed to have seen a solitary rider at dusk wandering around the hills. But it is all old women's superstition and the important people haven't paid much attention to it. O'Connor has left for a couple of weeks to negotiate the arrival of the train to the town. The new sheriff has abused his power and The Grizzly has abused everyone else. Gertrud has continued collecting her profits and breaking her girls. The Indian girl has disappeared from the saloon but nobody noticed. She probably decided to wait somewhere else. *** The full moon high above his head, Freddy Grubber exits the saloon and stumbles down Main Street towards his office. Tonight his jail is almost empty. Yesterday the Marshalls came to pick up the highwayman that had ended up on his lap the week before. The reward money had been good but he had lost most of it in a poker game. Earlier this afternoon he released the two miners that got into a drunken fight on the previous weekend, Mr. O'Connor had told him that he needed them working by morning. His only tenant is Sam Jeffrey. The farmer had threatened Mr. O'Connor earlier in the day. With The Grizzly otherwise occupied, Mr. O'Connor asked him to take care of the problem. He would do it later in the evening but for now he has a meeting with a bottle of cheap whisky waiting for him in the top drawer of his desk. In the shadow of the porch of his office he spots a silhouette. It's a woman. The torches on the streets are too far apart for him to distinguish her features but she's dressed as a farmer. He puts a hand on the handle of his revolver and raises his chin, provocative. "Sheriff Grubber, I need to speak to you," says the young Mrs. Jeffrey. Why not, he thinks, take a little pleasure on behalf of the farmer. He smiles and spits at the feet of the woman. "Yeah, what is it?" "Sheriff Grubber, we need to speak about my husband, you have to release him, he did nothing wrong." "Nothing wrong? He did threaten Mr. O'Connor this morning." "Yes I know, but he is a good man, he would have never hurt him... He was just angry..." The sheriff details the woman. She's young and despite the harsh work in the fields, she stills looks quite desirable. "Let's get inside, maybe we can work something out," he finally says before spitting again He opens the door, walks in, turns on the tempest lamp hanging over his desk. In the back he can hear the farmer snoring. He seats and looks at the woman standing in front of him. "You say that you're man wouldn't hurt a soul but I am the law around here and I have to deal with facts. And the facts are that he took his Winchester to Mr. O'Connor's ranch and threatened to kill him. So what should I believe? The facts or you, his loving wife?" "Please Sheriff Grubber, you must release him, he will never do anything bad again, I'll make sure of that." "How will you do that, after all you're only a woman?" "He listens to me, please, I promise!" "Okay, let's say he listens to you, he's a coward after all. Now tell me why should I do something for you?" "Sheriff Grubber, we are poor farmers we don't have much but maybe I can gather some money." "Money? Are you trying to bribe me? I don't want your stinking money!" "No, no, please..." "Your stinking money doesn't interest me," he says standing and approaching the woman. "But there's something else you might do for me." His hands are on the woman's hips, his putrid alcohol charged breath blows over the curly black hair of the woman, his hard dick presses against her ass. "No... Don't..." "No? You come into my office and ask me to release a guilty man and when we're about to find a solution you tell me no?" He pushes her against the desk and takes out his dick. "You want your man out? You'll take this in then!" "No..." she says in a breath. He grabs the top of her dress and pulls it down. She tries to protect herself but he slaps her and finishes undressing her. Naked and defenseless, she starts crying. He forces her to bend over the desk. He slaps her ass. "You'll be a good girl and maybe I'll consider releasing your man." He spits in his hand. He applies the black goo to her delicate parts and shoves in his hard member all the way in her reluctant pussy. She screams, but not of pleasure. In the back room of the sheriff's office, Sam Jeffrey's opens his eyes. A small framed figure hiding behind his hat and wearing a poncho puts a finger to his lips. Sam Jeffrey is too surprised not to obey the silhouette. Panting heavily, Freddy Grubber violently thrusts his dick in and out of the poor woman. Suddenly the door to the cells opens. Dixie comes out of the shadow pointing the shiny peacemaker towards the Sheriff's face. "Tsst, tsst, tsst, Sheriff this is no way to treat a lady." Freddy Grubber, his dick still inside the farmer's wife, tries to reach for his gun at his feet but stumbles and falls on his back hitting his head against the chair behind him. He faints. When he comes back to his senses, he's been tied to a chair with his own belt. His pants are still on his knees. Four figures stand in front of him. Four women, two whores, the reverend's missing daughter and Mrs. Jeffrey. "You're awake Sherriff, that's good," says the whore holding the gun, "Edwina here wanted to cut your dick off, but luckily for you we have better uses for it." "You bitches better release me right away or else I will kill you slowly," he spits. "Kill us? And how would you do that now that you're tied up to this chair?" replies Dixie. "..." The flat logic of the answer leaves Freddy Grubber speechless for a moment. "Enough chit chat, let's get down to business," says Dixie as she starts taking off her poncho revealing her chalky naked chest. The whore and the reverend's daughter undress as well giggling. Freddy Grubber's speechlessness is prolonged as he really doesn't understand what is happening to him. The sight of the three delicious women brings some life back to his dick. "Oh look girls! Sherriff Grubber seems happy to see us!" says the blonde whore laughing. Mary Ann Fulton kneels by his side and grabs the object of their common attention. She lets her slim fingers run over it for a while bringing it back to full strength. "Who wants to go first?" she asks. Dixie turns to Mrs. Jeffrey. "Let's start with you my dear," she says extending a hand. Mrs. Jeffrey walks to the sheriff and lifts the shreds of her dress. Freddy spots a very nasty bleeding cut on her shoulder. Two small parallel round injuries surrounded by a large patch of chalky white skin. "I didn't do that," he thinks as she slowly engulfs the willing dick into her cooling innards. She starts rocking her pelvis staring at Freddy in the eyes. He shivers as he notices the hellish hate that lingers behind her look. The rocking becomes faster, harder. The farmer's wife starts howling in pleasure. Suddenly, Freddy feels his balls emptying, like sucked by the woman guts. His pleasure is stolen from him and he unloads painfully. Edwina stands, wipes her pussy and licks her finger. "Next," she says. Mary Ann's finger slips into his ass forcing him to get a second very painful erection. The blonde whore rides him the same way and again he is robbed of his pleasure. His sore dick comes back to life for a third and fourth time honoring the reverend's daughter and the second whore. The pain and the suffering are unbearable. His dick has been drained four times and the four monsters seem to want more. But then he hears a gun cocking just behind his hear. "Nothing personal, you son of a b..." He doesn't hear the rest of the phrase as his ear and most of his left hemisphere are sent flying across the room by the bullet. 5. The winter has come and with it shorter days and longer nights. The death of the Sheriff has sent O'Connor into a terrible rage. He brought from up north a band of gunslinger to find the one responsible and capture the escaped prisoner. They found nothing. Jeffrey's farm was raided, searched and then burnt to the ground. The Grizzly has taken the Sherriff's badge and the gunslingers have finally left the valley. Slowly some sort of normality has forced its way back into town. The farmers and the miners started complaining about nightmares of young women visiting them at night. The barber is worried by the growing number of cases of anemia he has to treat among the whores and Gertrud's business has been severely crippled. But she has made up with it by beating the few healthy girls she has left. The Indian girl was spotted twice over the winter, once by the entrance of town and the second time near the mine. The day after the miners refused to go to work arguing that the mine was haunted, the problem was solved by the public execution of one of the leaders of the rebellion by The Grizzly. *** With the last patron sleeping his alcohol in the gutter, Gertrud closes the saloon and sends the piano player and the cook home. "It has been a good night, the first in a very long time," she thinks as she starts counting her earnings. With the 54 dollars stored in her safe, she makes one last tour of the saloon to pick up the remaining glasses. She finally ends up behind her counter; there she slowly pours some of O'Connor's imported whisky into a clean glass. She grabs one of her own brewed whisky and pours back the equivalent of her glass into the old fart's personal bottle. An old oil lamp in one hand, the whisky in the other she climbs the stairs to her room. When she passes in front of one of the rooms used by the clients she hears a faint moan. She stops; the girls should be back in their shed behind of the saloon. She puts her hear against the door. Nothing for a while and then, suddenly a clear and loud cry of pleasure. "What the fuck? Who is in there?" she says dropping the whisky and banging on the door. She tries to work the handle but the door is closed. The sounds intensify in frequency and volume. She continues banging on the door with her fists. "Whoever is in there, either you open this fucking door right now or you'll taste my fists tomorrow and I don't care if you can't work for a week..." The sound finally stops. "OPEN THE FUCKING D..." Gertrud can't finish her sentence because the door opens ajar. The room is in total darkness, she can't see a thing. She grabs the oil lamp and pushes the door wider. The bed is empty, there's a large dark stain on the blanket. She opens the door wide and steps into the room. Suddenly she hears a giggle behind her. She turns around. Standing behind the door are two of her girls, Melody and Bonnie. They have both been sick for the last week. Both of them are naked and covered with what looks like dripping blood. "What are you tramps doing here?" Both girls giggle behind their hands. "We were playing with Marina," Melody finally says. "Playing? I'll give you a game to remember," the old German whore says lifting her free hand. But she doesn't go further. An iron fist has grabbed her wrist. She turns around swinging the lamp at the impudent but another iron fist grabs her hand. "Gertrud, you wouldn't want the saloon to burn would you?" says Marianna forcing her to put down the lamp on the bedside table. The old German tries to struggle but the small framed girl's strength is unnatural. The girl throws her on the bed. Before she can react the three naked girls are on her. "Dixie wouldn't be happy if we took this one from her," says Bonnie before planting a long kiss on the old woman lips. "Yes but she caught us," says Melody before licking the wrinkled neck. "Maybe we could just play a bit with her," says Marianna before forcefully sticking three fingers up her dry pussy. Gertrud convulses on the bed trying to get free but the girls won't let her go. Humiliated, licked, fingered and fucked in every possible way Gertrud abandons herself to the degradation. As she starts enjoying her situation, Bonnie stops licking her pussy and swings a fist to her jaw. Gertrud sees stars and faints into darkness. When she wakes up, Gertrud has her hands and feet are tied together. She's in a small natural cave lit by a large bracero. The Indian girl is sitting in front of her. "Little girl," she says, "Please help me, please untie me ..." The Indian girl stares at her for a long while before spitting at her face and runs away. Gertrud is alone, her body is sore from the girls' rape. She feels exhausted. After a while she falls asleep. When she wakes up again she's still in the small cave. A woman is staring at her sitting where the Indian girl was. "How? How is it possible?" she starts. "How is it possible that I'm still alive?" Dixie replies, "That's something I've been wondering for a while myself but then the little Indian girl came to me and told me a story. You see a long time ago there was a tribe, and this tribe flourished in this valley. For many years the tribe lived peacefully in this little Garden of Eden but then came another tribe, a ferocious tribe of cruel warriors. They took the girls and killed the men. The girls were raped to death for days and weeks until they all died. All, not exactly, one of the girls managed to live long enough to see the tribe that had destroyed her home leave in the sunset and with her dying breath she cursed that tribe of cruel warriors. She cursed them to be plagued by the spirit of vengeance. So the cruel tribe went back home and settled for the winter waiting for the spring to launch another pillaging campaign. But during the winter, one after the other their wives and daughters started to disappear. They would just vanish into the night leaving nothing behind except from time to time for a trail of blood and cum on the pelts. As the warriors, left without women curled in fear in their camp, on the last night of winter, the wives and daughters finally came home. But they weren't the caring wives and loving daughters they had lost they were terrible demons inhabited by the spirit of the dying girl's vengeance, inhabited by the lust and suffering the men had inflicted on that tribe, inhabited by the Wendigo. The tribe of cruel warriors was never heard of or seen afterwards... High Moon Now, here ends the story so all the rest is just plain guessing, but I think that the little Indian girl is not an actual girl, she's is the ghost of that girl who died so many years ago. And I think what she granted me is a chance, a chance to avenge myself from the new cruelty that plagues this land..." Gertrud wants to dismiss what she has heard but the fangs approaching her neck seem far too real. She screams in terror as the monster drains her of her blood. 6. After Gertrud disappearance, life in the town has changed completely. People refuse to go out at night. The Grizzly has taken over the carcass of the saloon and has turned it into his own personal den of pleasure and depravation. Old O'Connor grows more anxious day after day, more violent too. The town is slowly crumbling. The trappers have started avoiding it, preferring other not so cursed settlements to trade their pelts. The herds of cattle avoid the valley as well preferring harsher but less strange routes. The farmer families have packed their possession and taken the road towards greener pastures. The mysterious rider watches over town every sunset. No one can approach him as he seems to vanish into thin air whenever an attempt to contact him is made. The mad reverend, seeing a sign in this, has started preaching the end of the world asking his thinning flock to repent. But soon he won't have anyone left to listen to his sermons. The Indian girl has been long forgotten by everyone but still awaiting she knows that her patience will soon pay. *** Fiona O'Connor is sleeping in her large bed in her room in the paternal Ranch outside town. She dreams of another life; a life back in the east with other girls to hang around and sophisticated gentlemen to court her; a life that could have been, a life full of sun. She also dreams of her mother who has died so many years before under the cruel fists of the father she hates more than anything. She dreams of revenge. She dreams of pleasure and pain combined. She dreams of the mysterious visitor who has come into her room for many nights now. She dreams of the fingers that have explored her, she dreams of the fangs that have deflowered her. She dreams of blood and lust. She dreams, she dreams until she wakes up. It's still dark outside. She can feel her mistress in the prairie. She hungers. She slips out of her bed and undresses. She slips out of her room and into the main hall of the ranch. She slips into the servants' quarter and into the small bed of her black maid. She slips a finger into the swollen virginal lips of the young woman. Fiona's fangs penetrate the neck of her first victim. The rich warm blood fills her mouth. She wants to bring her to her side so she soon lets her go. She licks the neck clean, savoring the cooling blood. The servant looks at her mistress with adoration and respect. She too wants to be free. Fiona goes back to her room. Her own mistress is there waiting for her. They kiss. Fiona goes back to sleep, back to her dreams. Day comes. *** The maid comes to her mistress' room; she closes the curtains and sits on the bed. She watches her mistress sleep. She is supposed to look over a sick girl but she knows better. She will protect her mistress against the outside world, she will protect her until the daughter of the house finally grants her freedom. She stands, locks the door and undresses. Her ebony body is covered with tiny marks of her mistress' teeth. She touches them for a while enjoying the delicious pleasure every stroke of her fingers against the scars sends to her pussy. Wet of sweat and cum she finally lies on the bed. Her mistress' body is cold against hers but she doesn't mind. Just like her mistress did last night she slips a finger into her mistress' pussy. Like every morning, it's drenched. She looks at her mistress face transform as she works the cold recesses of her intimacy. When finally her mistress comes, the servant avidly licks the delicious juices covering her fingers. With her warm tongue, she then cleans the thighs and slit of the object of her adoration. She covers her with a blanket leaving her to sleep. For long hours she sits in the darkness in the rocking chair by the door, an old colt resting on her legs. The cold metal of the gun reminds of her mistress's fingers inside her. She knows that soon she'll be granted her wish. *** Fiona wakes up to the most delicious smell. She's not alone. By the door, her delicious servant is asleep. By the open window her mistress is watching her. The night has finally come, the night her mistress has been promising her for so long. The night she gets to visit her father. But first they have a sister to bring into the fold. Dixie walks to the sleeping servant. She caresses the bite marks on her neck. Fiona is behind her, a hand slips over her ass, between her thighs. Dixie bends over and starts licking the dark scars on the sleeping girl's neck. In her sleep, the servant shivers both fearing and expecting what is to come. Fiona's fingers penetrate her mistress. Dixie drinks the waking servant. The servant comes and the two creatures of the night welcome the third one into the sisterhood. But the night is still very young and the three monsters have a rendezvous they can't miss. *** Old O'Connor is snoring his evening alcohol in his study when the three girls find him. At first he thinks he is dreaming. The cold touch of his daughter's tongue on his balls brings back delicious memories of his late wife. The two other girls kneeling in front of him work avidly on his member. Dixie, the little whore he had killed so many months ago, holds down the skin of his prepuce for the black servant to suck the gleaming head. He quickly comes covering the three girls in his seed. "The dream should end here," he thinks satisfied. But the dream doesn't end. The three beautiful girls soon turn into terrible demons. Their traits are deformed by hate, a hate he thought he was the only one capable of. He would love to scream, but he can't, the sounds dies in the back of his throat as the fangs start tearing his flesh. The first bite brings bliss; the monsters avidity soon takes the pleasure away leaving only the cold realization of his impending death. He finally screams his terror. But it is too late. The last image he takes away to hell with him is the face of his daughter covered in his blood. A little while later, the Indian girl observes as the O'Connor Ranch burns into the night. *** The full moon is at its highest point in the sky. The moon bathes the town in its terrible light. A woman wearing a hat and a large poncho stands on one end of the street a hand hovering near a shiny peacemaker. A very large man faces her on the other end of the street, his hand on the cross of his revolver. Around them, tens of pale figures wait for the draw. It is high moon. The Indian girl's won't have to wait much longer anymore. She's finally happy. But what happens next doesn't matter. This is the end of this story, the story of a town with no name, the story of a terrible vengeance, the sad ballad of Dixie McCreary.