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A Lady’s Maid In Montana
Montana, 1904.
Poor Mary lay naked and as helpless as a lamb. Rough leather ropes bound her hands to trees on either side of her naked body. Other ropes stretched her legs wide apart. She was frightened, but determined not to show her fear. She would show this savage that a proper English lady’s maid conducted herself with dignity even in the most horrid of situations.
Mary had been strolling along the river and had walked into a grove of trees. She had barely entered the grove when a huge hand grabbed her from behind and a cloth bag was dropped over her head. Before she could scream a deep and terrifying voice had said:
“White squaw no make sound!”
Bravely Mary tried to cry out but the strong hand tightened over her mouth.
“No speak!”
Mary knew that she had been captured by Indians. What were they going to do to her? Would they torture her? Cut off her hair as a trophy? Would they carry her to their camp and ravage her?
Mary squeaked in fear as she was lifted off her feet and carried away. Her captor hadn’t taken her far when she was set back on the ground. A hand pressed her chest and pushed her against a tree. Her hands were yanked behind and she felt them being bound by a rope.
“Oh, God!” she thought, “Are they going to build a fire at my feet and burn me to death?”
She tugged at the rope but it was too well tied. She froze when the hand touched her throat. She felt the hand moving, then suddenly realized that it was undoing the buttons of her blouse.
“How dare you, , ,” she gasped indignantly.
“No talk!” the guttural voice commanded. The hand continued unbuttoning her blouse.
Mary blushed beneath her hood as her blouse was opened. She stifled a whimper as her skirt was undone and dropped at her feet. The unseen savage continued until her petticoats and chemises were gone and she was reduced to only a corset and her bloomers. The Indian seemed confused by the corset, then apparently deciding that unlacing all the stays was too much trouble, he cut them with a knife. Mary felt slight tugs as the laces parted and the corset fell away. Mary sobbed at the realization that her breasts were now exposed to both God and the savage. Worse was to come. She felt fingers tugging at the tiny ribbon that held the waistband of her bloomers closed. Finally the beast managed to untie the delicate bow and her last shred of clothing was gone.
Resigned to a fate worse than death Mary lifted her chin and awaited the next indignity. Nothing happened for a long moment. Mary felt the warm sunlight on her skin and experienced the tiny flutter of the breeze in her pubic hair. For the first time in her life Mary was naked out of doors. In spite of her self she felt her nipples harden. She groaned with embarrassment.
The savage made a soft grunt of approval. Somehow she knew that he was looking at her pussy. She tried to cross one leg over the other.
“Keep legs open,” the savage commanded. When Mary ignored the order he knelt and tied a rope to each ankle. Mary gasped in horror as her foot was tugged to the side. The savage tied the tope to a small tree. A moment later her other foot was pulled away and secured.
Her vulnerability was heightened as the breeze increased and cooled the moisture between her legs. She sobbed softly, then gasped when she realized that more than the wind was stirring her pubic hair. Something was touching her pussy!
A finger slid over the lips of her womanhood. It was surprisingly gentle for a wild Indian.. Mary tensed, her body was stiff with shock as the finger was joined my others. The savage’s fingers caressed her pussy, his thumb pressed firmly against her clitoris.
Mary set her mouth firmly and tried to endure this indignity with fortitude, but as minute after minute went by, the hand between her legs had a terrible effect. Her pussy began to grow hot and damp and her hips began to sway. Furious with herself, Mary tried fiercely to control her rebellious body, but the savage hand seemed to know exactly how to arouse her.
A hand touched her breast. It was surprisingly gentle but firm and strong. Her body betrayed her when her nipple hardened. She bit her lip when her captor chuckled. He tweaked her nipple between rough callused hands. Soon her other nipple was receiving similar attention. The savage did not seem to be in any great hurry to ravish her. She hoped that he would get it over with quickly, then murder her and be done, but he just caressed her breasts. Her resolve weakened when a warm moist mouth closed over her breast. A tongue danced lightly against her nipple, first one, then the other. Her nipples grew even harder and she was unable to restrain a soft moan. This drew a grunt of satisfaction from her captor.
Mary was no fool and she knew that sooner or later the savage would shift his attention from her breasts back to her most secret and precious place. She began to wonder what was taking so long, he seemed to have lost interest in her pussy. Now all he cared about were her breasts.
“Perhaps Indian women have small bosoms,” she thought. “I wonder if he’s ever seen breasts as large as mine.” Even in her dire predicament Mary couldn’t help a bit of vanity regarding her large and shapely bosom.
Mary Odonnell was a good pious girl, and even though she was not a virgin, she had lived a respectable life since becoming Lady Pamela’s maid, still, the Indian’s abiding interest in her chest was pleasing.
The mouth withdrew from her nipple. She sensed that he was looking at her pussy again. She astonished herself by thrusting her legs further apart.
“Very well,” she said defiantly. “If you wish to look, then look.”
The savage made a few grunts that seemed to signify approval, but he didn’t touch her down there. She sighed when the mouth resumed its evil work on her nipple.
The insensitive beast kept poor Mary tied to the tree for hours while he nuzzled her breasts. She tried to maintain the proper dignity of an English woman, but his lips were driving her mad! He somehow managed to suckle her nipple between his teeth with just enough pressure to create the most erotic sensation. He didn’t bite but the faint rasp of his teeth was fantastic!
Mary was soon lost in a haze of passion. She didn’t realize it, but each time he removed his mouth she thrust her breasts forward, silently begging for his return.
Mary had never experienced an orgasm in her life and when one struck it was most unexpected. The Indian was alternately sucking one breast while squeezing her other, when she felt a hot sharp sensation in her womanhood. The sensation grew and she gasped in wonder and delight as pressure seemed to build inside her . It grew and grew until a huge bubble seemed to explode casting stars of wondrous delight through the universe that was her body. Her back arched and her breasts pointed to the sky. Mary’s head rolled upward and a long deep moan escaped her lips. The moan grew until it her chest vibrated. The savage chuckled and tugged on her nipple with his mouth. At each tug the sensation increased and Mary’s groans grew louder until they changed to cries. Still more of the delightful tugs brought the sparkling stars of delight together until a spear of white heat seemed to stab into her very soul between her legs. She took a long deep breath and gave voice to a high long shriek that was pure delight.
The mouth disappeared from her breast and she heard the savage chuckle. She didn’t care. She grew faint, her legs gave way and she sagged in her bonds.
Mary was dimly aware that she was being carried in someone’s arms. Her captor laid her gently on the ground and she felt her arm being pulled outward and tied to something. She didn’t resist when the other arm received the same treatment. Without being told, she opened her legs and lay compliantly as they were tied apart.
“Now its going to happen,” she thought “He’s going to thrust himself inside me.” She rolled her knees slightly further apart.
Unexpectedly the mouth reappeared on her breast and the man’s teeth gently closed around the nipple. Instantly the white hot spear seemed to flash through her. She screamed in ecstasy again.
Mary lay on the ground, her soul awash in pleasure, she didn’t notice for a moment that the hands and mouth had disappeared. Then she heard a man’s voice shouting loudly, then a shot! Another and another! Then a horse galloped close and stopped.
“My God!” a familiar voice said.
The bag was taken from her head and Mary blinked in the sunlight. Beside her knelt Big Bill, the foreman.
“He got away, the rascal,” Big Bill said. “I got off a few shots but missed him.”
“Oh, he got away?” Mary asked absently.
“Are you all right?” Big Bill asked. “Did that damn Aztec commit an outrage?”
“Um, no, he didn’t,” Mary said. “You interrupted him.”
“Just in time, I’d say.”
“Indeed.”
Mary realized that Big Bill was looking at her naked body. She blushed, but didn’t really mind. “I ought to ask him to untie me,” she thought.
“How many Aztecs were there?” Big Bill asked.
“Only one so far as I am aware,” Mary answered. “The bag was placed over my head so quickly that I didn’t have an opportunity to see the man.”
“They have been quiet for years, but lately some of them have become bolder.”
“This one certainly was bold,” Mary agreed. She noted that Big Bill was frowning in concentration, obviously contemplating the ramifications of the Aztec menace, however, his gaze seemed to fall upon her naked body.
She raised her head and looked at her breasts. Marks from the savage’s teeth were clearly visible around her nipples. She lay back and sighed deeply. She wondered if there might be any marking between her legs from the Indian’s fingers. Would Big Bill notice them?
“Do you think that you might untie me?” she asked after a few moments.
“Good heavens!” Big Bill said. “What is the matter with me?” He bent and carefully untied her bonds. Mary sat up and looked around, then remembered to cover her bosom with her hands.
“I wonder if that rascal stole your clothes,” Big Bill said. “If he did I reckon you might have to ride back naked.” It apparently didn’t occur to him to loan her his shirt
“Oh my.” It apparently didn’t occur to her to ask for the loan of his shirt. “I would be like Godiva,” she mused.
“Like who?”
“Never mind.”
Big Bill seemed to enjoy looking at Mary’s unclothed body. It was so typical of an uncouth American to fail to avert his eyes, but she decided that this was not the time to mention it. She looked around.
“I was close to the river when I was abducted,” she said. “I was tied to a tree when he undressed me.” She walked a few steps and saw her clothing on the ground. Big Bill rushed to hand her clothing to her and averted his eyes as she dressed.
“How odd that an Indian would pile my things rather neatly,” she thought as she got dressed. “And even odder that he took the time to undo all the buttons. I’d have thought that a ravishing savage would just have torn my garments off of me.”
Big Bill coiled the ropes and tucked them in his saddle bag. Then he lifted her onto his horse and mounted the saddle. Mary sat sideways as was proper but couldn’t help notice that the large pommel of the American saddle pressed against a most intimate part of her body. She also noticed that Big Bill seemed quite determined that she would not fall off the horse and he held her firmly in his grip.
London 1904
Mary Odonnell was delighted when her mistress, Lady Pamela Hyde announced that she had finally decided upon one of her suitors. Lady Pamela was the younger daughter of an old and distinguished family and that coupled with her beauty and sweet disposition made her a most sought after young woman. Any number of eligible bachelors of noble birth, from Britain and the continent had hovered around Lady Pamela for months. Why there was even a barbarian from the wilds of America.
Mary was Lady Pamela’s maid and companion and had been in her service since they were both sixteen Mary was very happy in Lady Pamela’s service. She had been with her on her grand tour of Europe and on many jaunts to the family estates in Scotland. Lady Pamela was a generous person and Mary’s pay was considerably higher than most maids, and her living quarters in the Hyde houses were the talk of the other servants. Mary did not have private room, but a small suite of rooms to herself. She had a sitting room, bedroom and a large closet! Outrageous for a mere maid.
Lady Pamela had confided in Mary over many a late night, whispering in Lady Pamela’s room about which of the wealthy suitors she liked best. Mary, in the role of confidante offered her advice as to which gentleman would make the best husband. Her choices usually leaned toward the most noble and proper of the gentlemen. Mary was quite a snob and felt that her mistress deserved only the most elevated gentleman from an ancient and dignified family. She was quite unprepared then, when Lady Pamela chose the American!
Poor Mary was flabbergasted. Lady Pamela to marry that enormous man and move to some ungodly place called Montana? What was she thinking?
Mary had to admit that the American, Isaac Buckner by name, was handsome enough. He was tall with broad shoulders and an air of complete self assurance. But he wore boots under his trousers, even to tea, and he was rarely seen without a huge wide brimmed hat with a band made of snakeskin.
Lady Pamela reminded Mary that Mr. Buckner was well educated, if attending a college called the University of Colorado, could be called education, (Mary had her doubts), and he was quite wealthy and owned more land in Montana than was in the entire principality of Wales. Lady Pamela’s father had a few discreet inquiries made in America and discovered that Mr. Buckner was indeed hugely wealthy. Many people had been surprised to learn that he could converse on all the subjects that any well bred gentleman should, and even had a remarkable knowledge of other things such as science and mechanics. One evening he astonished the guests at dinner by explaining how the new fangled aeroplane worked and how he intended to purchase one from the Wright brothers as soon as he returned to America.
“No proper gentleman should ever bother to learn how machinery works,” Mary had told Lady Pamela later. “Unless he is a naval officer.”
“Mr. Buckner wasn’t in the navy,” Lady Pamela said. “But he was a cavalry officer in America’s war against Spain. He commanded a troop in Cuba.”
“I doubt if that can compare to serving in the Household Brigade,” Mary sniffed haughtily.
Mary conceded that Mr. Buckner’s manners were impeccable. He moved in good society with ease and grace, although he was a trifle too democratic in the way he acknowledged servants. He went so far as to talk to them as if they were human beings. He even set himself the task of getting Mary to smile at him. Despite her resolve, she was unable to ignore the way he smiled and winked and jollied her until her stiff upper lip was seen to quiver.
Mary’s heart dropped when Lady Pamela announced that after the wedding she and Mr. Buckner were going to reside on his ranch in Montana. What was she going to do living a mud hut in the wilderness surrounded by red Indians and bandits and bears and wolves? It was only Mary’s love and deep sense of duty to Lady Pamela that gave her the courage to bear up. She simply couldn’t let her lady go to America alone and unprotected.
The trip across the ocean was pleasant enough. Mr. Buckner reserved a suite aboard the largest and most luxurious of the Atlantic steamers. Even Mary’s stateroom was larger and nicer than that of most other passengers.
Lady Pamela was delighted with New York City. It was large and noisy and robust and she marveled at the energy and rapid pace of life. They stayed for a few weeks while she saw the sights and went shopping.
The train ride across America was astonishing. Miles rolled by in the hundreds, then thousands. Mary never dreamed that a single country could be so large. They stopped in Chicago for a few weeks, then in another city named Minneapolis and a dozen smaller towns. The further west they went the sparser the population became. The farms grew farther apart and open land rolled by for miles and miles. Finally they were in Montana.
Lady Pamela was delighted at the majestic scenery. She marveled at the towering mountains, great valleys and rolling prairies. Mary watched the magnificent landscape with increasing dread. There were no cities in this wilderness and few towns. What towns they saw were small and dusty with weather beaten buildings and unpaved streets.
Finally they arrived.
Mary groaned as they got off the train. The station was a small brick building called a ‘depot’ surrounded by a wooden platform and enormous cattle pens. A mile away a scattering of small buildings indicated the location of the town.
Mary squealed as a burst of gunfire erupted. She stepped bravely in front of Lady Pamela, determined to shield her with her body.
Mr. Buckner broke into laughter and strode toward a group of men who were shooting pistols into the sky. The ruffians were grinning at him!
“Thanks boys,” Mr. Buckner said. “But don’t give my wife the wrong impression about us.”
The ruffians promptly shot more volleys into the air. Mr. Buckner laughed louder.
“I believe that they must be our welcoming party,” Lady Pamela whispered to Mary.
“I fear you may be correct,” Mary groaned.
Mr. Buckner brought Lady Pamela forward and introduced her to the men. His ‘hands’ as he called them. They all removed their hats and grinned shyly. They were very respectful and called her ma’am, which was quite amusing, but each felt it was his right to grasp Lady Pamela’s delicate hand and shake it vigorously. Lady Pamela smiled graciously, then introduced Mary, who received an equally zestful series of handshakes.
Mr. Buckner conducted Lady Pamela and Mary to a comfortable carriage while his men loaded the luggage into several wagons. Mary noted that the team pulling the carriage were a magnificent pair of horses.
The drive to the ranch took two hours. Mary was in a terrible state, dreading to see the primitive hovel in which she was destined to live. She was astonished when the carriage crested a rise and she saw a stately house in the distance. Lady Pamela clapped her hands in delight.
The house was three stories tall encircled by a huge porch. A pair of turrets stood at the front corners and the roof of the porch formed an enormous balcony. Tall trees shaded the house and a neatly trimmed lawn looked cool and inviting. A few hundred yards away stood several barns, stables, a blacksmith’s forge and a dozen smaller houses. The ranch it seemed, was a small community in itself.
A group of people were waiting at the house. Mr. Buckner introduced the household staff of cooks, cleaning girls, a laundress and a butler. Further on waited another group of cowboys, all in their wide brimmed hats and rough clothing. Mary noticed that they all carried pistols on their belts and feared there might be a repeat of the gunfire salutes at the station.
Lady Pamela greeted everyone with genuine pleasure and grace, and this time she shook hands with all the enthusiasm of the men. Mary managed to endure having her arm pumped vigorously with a weak smile.
Inside the house Mary was surprised to find it well furnished and decorated with the latest styles and fabrics. She was utterly astonished to discover that the house had indoor plumbing with hot running water! She even had an indoor toilet across the hall from her room!
The next day, after an enormous breakfast, Lady Pamela and Mary strolled around the ranch. They watched in fascination as a huge herd of cattle were driven into one of the corrals. Several cowboys herded the cattle under the supervision of a very large man. The man sat on his horse and poured tobacco into a small piece of paper, then rolled it into a primitive cigarette. He smoked the cigarette, then climbed off the horse. He walked to the woman, removed his hat respectfully and introduced himself as Big Bill, the ranch foreman.
Lady Pamela offered her hand and Big Bill bowed over it. He turned to Mary and looked her up and down with obvious and vulgar approval. Mary gave him a frosty look and managed to nod curtly at his greeting.
Lady Pamela asked Big Bill many questions about the ranch. They strolled about as he explained the workings of the place. Mary was able to observe the man as he talked.
He was very tall, well over six feet and two or three inches and his body was large and muscular. He wore his hair cropped short and oiled with pomade and sported a huge handlebar mustache. His eyes were turquoise blue and his skin was suntanned dark brown.
His clothing was curious, to say the least. He wore a red plaid shirt and trousers made of blue denim, which Mary learned, were very popular in America, and over the trousers he wore thick sheepskin covers called chaps. They were to protect his legs from underbrush. He wore tall boots with enormous spurs, a revolver on his belt along with a huge wicked looking knife. A large bandanna was knotted loosely around his neck and his ensemble was topped off by a wide brimmed hat. Mary had to admit to herself that he was quite dashing.
After a stroll around the ranch buildings Lady Pamela and Mary retired to the house and were served lemonade on the porch. Lady Pamela insisted that Mary sit with her.
“After all, you are my closet friend for ten thousand miles,” Lady Pamela said. “I don’t think we need to concern ourselves with stuffy rules about class, do we?”
Mary was flattered by Lady Pamela’s words, but worried that already the loose social structures of America were having an effect of her mistress. Mary was determined to conduct herself in a strict and proper fashion.
Big Bill seemed quite taken by Mary and made several attempts to converse with her. Mary was coolly civil, but never encouraged any of his efforts.
One afternoon she decided to go for a long walk. As she strode toward a distant river Big Bill rode by on his horse.
“Afternoon Miss Mary,” he said, tipping his hat.
“Good afternoon.”
“Where would you be heading?” he inquired.
“I’m going for a walk, if you must know,” she answered shortly.
“Well, I sure wouldn’t mind joining you,” he said. “If you might like some company.”
“No thank you,” she said icily.
“Well, suit yourself,” he said. “But be careful and don’t go out of sight of the house. There might be Indians about.”
She gave him a withering look. “I’m quite capable of looking after myself,” she said.
“All right.”
Mary walked on in a huff. ‘Indians indeed!’ she thought. ‘Does he take me for a fool?’
She walked quite a long way and when she reached the river she looked back. The ranch buildings were still visible but were much farther than she had realized. Distances were deceiving in the wide country of Montana. It occurred to her that if she were to be attacked it would take help some time to arrive, even if they could hear her screams at that distance.
She took a deep breath, lifted her chin and marched on. She entered a charming grove of aspen trees. A few minutes later the bag was dropped over her head.
After Big Bill rescued Mary from the savage he took her back to the ranch house. When they arrived he sprang lightly to the ground, placed his hands on her waist and lifted her easily off the horse. Mary blushed in his hands.
“Thank you for driving that evil savage away,” Mary said. “And I must ask another service from you as well.”
“You just name it,” he said.
“I would entreat you not to mention this episode to anyone.”
“Don’t you worry,” Big Bill. Said. “I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you.”
Mary retreated to her room and undressed. It was her intention to change clothes and properly arrange her underthings. Since the savage had cut the laces of her corset it had been impossible to wear it and she had been forced to carry the thing into the house. Fortunately no one saw her with it in her hand.
When she was naked Mary sat on her bed and contemplated the events of the day. She was grateful that Big Bill had arrive and frightened off the Aztec but she was mortified that Big Bill had seen her naked, and in such an undignified fashion. She cringed when she remembered how Big Bill had looked closely at her naked body. Thank God he was at least civilized enough not to take advantage of her.
She looked at her wrists. They showed deep pink marks from the ropes. She rubbed the marks but that only reminded her of her close escape. She wondered why Big Bill hadn’t ravaged her. After all no one would have known. Even she would not have been able to identify him with a bag over her head. Perhaps he was truly a gentleman, but on the other hand, what if he had refrained because he simply didn’t find her attractive? Hmmpf! How dare he?
She looked at her breasts. There a few men, savage or civilized that would fail to be aroused by them. How could Big Bill look at her naked and not want to have her.
Mary looked at herself in the mirror. She noticed that her breasts were quite pink and her nipples faintly showed the marks from the savage’s teeth. Remembering the man’s mouth on her breasts made Mary’s body tingle with pleasure.
Mary hopped to her feet, set her chin determinedly and got dressed. She vowed to take a walk again the very next day. Aztec or no Aztec, no savage was going to intimidate her!
The next afternoon Mary set out on her walk. This time, realizing that there was little need, she wore fewer under garments. After all it was quite warm and a corset and half a dozen petticoats weren’t necessary.
Big Bill caught up to her as she walked toward the river.
“Are you going walking again?” he asked.
“I certainly am,” Mary replied firmly.
“You better let me accompany you,” Big Bill said. “That varmint from yesterday might still be around. Why he might be watching you right now.”
Mary glanced at the trees then lifted her chin.
“I do not fear him,” she said bravely.
“That’s mighty courageous of you,” Big Bill said. “But that fellow has seen you naked and I reckon he wouldn’t forget how beautiful you are.”
Mary paused. She cringed slightly to be reminded that she had been seen naked, but she also felt a quick thrill at his words. Perhaps he didn’t find her unattractive after all.
“Well, you’ve seen me undressed,” she said. “I hope I have nothing to fear from you.”
Big Bill grinned at her.
“I wouldn’t be too sure,” he said. “There aren’t many men who could resist a fine looking lady like you.”
Mary felt herself blushing and worse, felt her nipples grow hard. She desperately hoped that he couldn’t see them through her clothing. Without a corset she feared they might be visible.
She looked at him with her most haughty expression but he just shoved his hat onto the back of his head and grinned. She turned and marched resolutely toward the river. She heard him gallop away.
When she reached the grove Mary paused then strode bravely forward. She had only gone a few steps when a bag was thrust over her head and she was gripped by firm hands. She gasped but didn’t try to scream.
“No speak!” a gruff voiced said to her. Her hands were pulled behind her and tied together. Mary was picked up and slung over the man’s shoulder. She felt him walking easily with her weight. As he walked her kidnapper patted her on her bottom. His hand roamed her posterior and seemed to be searching for something. The hand moved from her bottom to her back. The savage grunted when he discovered that she wasn’t wearing a corset. Mary blushed at the intimate caress.
After a few hundred paces she was lowered to the ground. Once again her clothing was quickly, but carefully removed. When she was naked the savage lowered her to the ground and tied her arms apart. And of course he also pulled her legs apart and tied them to saplings. Poor brave Mary man no effort to cry out, but she couldn’t suppress a gasp when her legs were so rudely opened.
Instantly the mouth was on her breast and she couldn’t resist a moan of pure delight. The Aztec nibbled and kissed and suckled her breast until again she experienced that most delightful sensation of an orgasm.
Mary was writhing in ecstasy when she felt the man’s weight atop her. Before she knew it his manhood slid into her!
Another orgasm flashed through her body and soul, this one ten times more powerful than any other she’d ever experienced.
Poor, poor Mary. She was raped by the brutal savage several times that afternoon, and despite her resistance her body betrayed her by allowing several more wonderful orgasms to thunder upward from her belly. Sensitive, delicate Mary was so distraught by the horrific things done to her body that after her fifth or sixth orgasm she fainted.
When she regained her senses she was alone and unbound. She sat up, looked around and wondered where the Aztec had gone. She lay back and discovered that she was lying on a blanket. How thoughtful of him.
Mary lazed in the grove of trees for quite a while, then rose and walked naked to the river. She waded into the cool water and sat down. The water felt wonderful. She lolled and dozed and felt completely happy. After a while she opened her eyes to see Big Bill sitting atop his horse on the river bank..
“Are you all right?” he asked when he saw her in the water. “A white woman ought not to swim by herself up here.”
“I am perfectly fine, thank you,” she said languidly.” She lowered her body deeper so that her breasts were hidden, but just barely.
“Well, I decided to come looking for you, just in case that demon from yesterday was still about,” Big Bill said, scanning the trees.
“I haven’t seen a soul,” Mary said.
“Just the same, I think I ought to escort you back to the ranch,” Big Bill said.
“Very well, if you insist.”
She stood and walked out of the river. Big Bill watched with admiration. Mary looked at him for a moment, then modestly covered her breasts.
“I know you’ve already seen me naked,” she said. “But a gentleman would still avert his eyes.”
“That’s easier said than done,” Big Bill grinned, but he turned away.
Mary smiled, stretched languidly and walked slowly back to her clothes. Big Bill followed at a discreet distance and waited while she got dressed. When she was fully clothed Mary brushed off the blanket, folded it neatly and hung it on a tree limb. Then she permitted Big Bill to lift her onto his horse and rode contentedly to the house.
Mary continued to go for a walk every afternoon and the poor dear was savagely raped every time. Often several times in a single afternoon. Her assailant stopped using a bag to cover her face and instead blindfolded her with a cloth that looked suspiciously like a bandanna.
Since the blindfold left her mouth exposed the Aztec began kissing her during many of her ravishments. Despite her strongest resolve, Mary found herself kissing him back. She had to admit that he did kiss nicely. She also thought that she detected a mustache and the stubble of a beard.
One afternoon she asked Mr. Buckner about Indians.
“Is it true that Indian men are completely without facial hair?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “I’ve never seen an Indian with a beard.”
“Do they grow mustaches?” she asked.
“Never.”
“I was wondering if perhaps that might vary from tribe to tribe,” she said. “For example, if the Aztec tribe might have more facial hair than others.”
“I suppose that might be possible,” he said. “But they live so far away that I have never seen one.”
“Oh, where do they live?”
“The Aztecs live in Southern Mexico,” he replied. “About two thousand miles from here.”
“Oh, my.”
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason sir, I just thought I ought to learn about cowboys and Indians and America.”
“Splendid idea.”
“Thank you sir, and now if you will excuse me, I must go for my afternoon walk.”
Thirty minutes later Mary found herself hanging by her wrists from a tree limb. Her legs were tied apart and she was blindfolded and a renegade Aztec was making free with her body. She gasped as a strong hand explored her womanhood and an insistent mouth suckled at her breast. This was the first time her tormentor had hung her by her wrists and although the ropes were painful, she confessed to herself that it was rather nice.
Montana 1905
Mr. Buckner glanced out his bedroom window and chuckled.
What is it my dear?” his wife asked.
“Mary is on her afternoon walk,” he replied. “And there goes Big Bill.”
Mary was striding briskly toward the grove of trees. Big Bill was riding in a slightly different direction at leisurely gallop. His course would intersect Mary’s path well into the forest.
Lady Pamela smiled. “Perhaps some day you and I should go for a walk in the forest.”
“Certainly my love, but we will have to find a different grove of trees. I shouldn’t want to intrude.”
“The woods are quite large,” his wife said. “I’m sure we can find a suitable location.”
He turned and smiled at her. She was naked and hung by her wrists from a sturdy hook in the ceiling. She blushed but smiled as he looked admiringly at her body.
He opened a closet and gestured to several items hanging from pegs on the door.
“What is your pleasure? The riding crop or the whip?”
“I’m feeling quite naughty today,” Lady Pamela replied. “I believe that I deserve the whip.”
Montana 1934
Poor dear Mary was tied naked between four saplings in the forest. She was comfortable on a blanket and she was blindfolded. A savage was atop her body, ravishing her mercilessly. She spoke.
“Would you take off that gun belt? The buckle is poking my skin.”
“White squaw no speak,” was the guttural reply, but the savage paused, undid his belt and tossed it away.
“Thank you,” she smiled sweetly. “And while you’re at it, tighten the ropes on my ankles.”
. . . . . . .
Author’s note: Shackleford Bond is the pen name of Mary Elizabeth Moore, a fifty three year old bondage lover who lives in Denver, Colorado.
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