Lady Wild
(Part 2)
1.
The merciless afternoon sun was burning in the cloudless sky. We were riding in
a wasteland where the earth was scorched and the shimmering heat waves raised
above the sand. I pulled John's hat far over my eyes and pierced into the
distance. Nothing but rocks, dusts and dry bushes. Nowhere to hide from the sun.
The horses were exhausted. We have been racing over the plains all night and
their deep and noisy breathing warned me that they couldn't last much longer. I
spurted my horse for a last desperate attempt to find a suitable place to rest,
leading Grant's horse behind me.
Finally we reached a gigantic rock shaped like an eagle that cast enough shade
for us to rest underneath. I jumped off my horse and secured the animals to a
dead tree. As I sat myself in the shade and wipe the transpiration from my
brows, my new bound prisoner started to stir.
"Where...Where am I?"
His voice sounded weak and dry, like a dry piece of wood ready to snap. I got up
and walked over to him. The bullet of the gunman had pierced his back, but
hadn't found a way out yet. I dragged him off his horse and laid his broken body
in the shadow. His face was pale and his eyes were half closed as he feverishly
stared at me, totally disorientated and helpless.
I turned him on his back. Grant moaned and yelped in agony as I dug my fingers
in his wound, trying to locate the bullet. My hand was trembling as I sensed the
smooth surface of the intruder and fished it out. Then I poured the last little
bit of Whiskey that I had left over him in order to clean the wound. Grant
moaned pitifully as the alcohol burnt over his tormented flesh, but I pretended
not to hear him. I bound him with pieces of cloth that I ripped off from his
shirt and let in him rest for a while. As I sat down again with my back leaning
against a pointy rock, confusion entered my troubled mind.
"What the hell was I doing?"
I saved the man that had murdered my husband. I had murdered an officer on duty,
probably had widowed his wife and made his children fatherless. Remorse and
guilt washed over my body. Why was I doing this? Was it in order to get my own
revenge? But then, what was I going to do with him now? I surely had not the
guts to kill him myself.
I ran my hands through my hair in utter desperation. There he was. The man I've
hated and feared for more then five agonizing long years. Lying there helpless
and with his fate in my hands, and I had no idea what to do with him.
I couldn't kill him.
But I was able to kill the officer who had tried to stop me from rescuing him.
Was it really my conscience that stopped me from shooting Grant? Because if
that's what it was, the little sucker had proven really picky on which people it
manifested itself.
You're kidding yourself Helen. You're attracted to him. You don't want to shoot
him because the sight of the guy makes your pussy wetter than a well. Aren't you
tired from riding alone in this shitty wasteland without a man by your side?
Hasn't it been too long since you've felt a strong arm wrapped around your
shoulders and a hard dick pressed upon your groin? How long has it been now
Helen? Five -six years?
I yelled and pressed my hands against my ears, trying to stop that annoying
inner voice that was blurting the truth right into my face.
"I'm not interested in him! Shut up!"
I was not saving Grant because I felt something for him. I was saving him
because I wanted him to get the punishment he deserved. A punishment that I
decided on. A quick shot in the back of the head was not good enough, it
wouldn't satisfy the appetite of the black poisonous monster of wrath that he
had buried in my soul. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to beg for my mercy.
Suddenly, I knew what I had to do and a malicious grin appeared on my face.
2.
After three long days of riding, we finally found a little stream coiling
through a cleft between two giant rocks. We settled down in order to let Grant's
wound to heal. I nursed him into an almost recovered state while I kept his
hands and feet tied up. He didn't resist in the beginning, being too weak and
feverish to even lift as much as a finger. As I fed him warmed can-beans at
night by the campfire, he would sometimes look at me with those treacherous
eyes, and I could almost swear that there was a trace of genuine gratitude
showing in them. But we never spoke a word to each other. And as he grew
stronger with every day that passed by, so did his resentment towards me for
keeping him restrained. I didn't care. And I shouldn't care.
At one night, weeks after we found the place, I saddled up the horses again and
packed all of my poor possessions. We were ready to go. Grant's injury had
healed and although he was still a little weak and stiff from the lack of
movement he had suffered, he would probably be able to walk a few miles during
the night since we were then protected from the scorching sun. I took as much
water with me as I had empty flasks and bottles. Our provisions were almost
finished, but we wouldn't last more then a day out there without enough water. I
pointed John's gun against Grant's head and told him to sit still, while I
untied the rope around his ankles. He looked at me with hatred in his eyes.
"Get up and walk over to the horses."
Grant stood up, he kept his angry look focussed upon me, but didn't budge an
inch.
"I said start walking!"
Grant didn't move, instead he grinned at me.
"What are you going to do Helen, shoot me?"
My gun trembled in my hands. The bastard! He knew that I hadn't got the guts to
kill him. I blinked as I tried desperately to bluff my way out.
"I will shoot you Grant! I don't want to kill you, but I surely can hurt you!"
Grant chuckled arrogantly, his sky blue eyes were observing every insecurity
that I displayed in my posture, and he processed that information in his head to
turn it against me. He knew that my threat was as empty as the womb of an
eighty-year-old woman. It was just a matter of time before he walked over and
slammed the gun out of my hands. I had to react, I had to show him that I was
stronger than he was.
I grabbed the long horsewhip hanging from my belt and slashed out with it. Grant
backed up but couldn't prevent the whip ripping through the fabric of his
trousers and exploding on his skin. Grant withered in pain, his tied hands
covering his burning flesh. Before he could recover from the first blow, a
second lash exploded on his back causing a red welt that was visible through his
ragged shirt. Grant panted heavily as he sank through his knees. I lifted the
whip high above my head again, ready to administrate another blow.
"Stop Helen! Please."
I lowered the whip, and stared at my victim, trying to keep my expression as
cold as ice.
"Get up and start walking!"
Grant obeyed me, he stumbled to the horses where I tied the rope around his neck
to the reins and mounted my horse. As I looked down at him, I saw that Grant
eyes were staring at the ground, as if he was trying to avoid being reminded of
his humiliation. My lips pulled into a faint smile as I spurted my horse to go
while leading the second horse by its rope. The animals paced calmly into the
wide plains while Grant stumbled behind them like docile livestock.
3.
"Helen! I need water!"
I pretended that I didn't hear him and casually whistled a song while jerking on
his rope to make him walk faster. It was the second night since we left our camp
and we had already traveled since sunset. Grant was tired, he kept falling
behind and I occasionally had to stop and ride back to whip him back on his feet
again. It was the first time he asked me for water though, he must be very
thirsty to beg me andin spite of his stubborn pride.
"Helen! Please! I need some water!"
I whistled more loudly, making sure that he heard it. He remained silent for a
long time. I figured that he was still not that thirsty atfer all. But then I
felt a pull on the rope and as I turned around, I saw that he had collapsed face
down in the sand. Worried, I rode back to him and jumped off my horse.
"Grant?! Stop fooling around! Get up!"
I kicked him in his stomach. He moaned softly, his sounds smothered by the dirt.
I grew inpatient and jerked hard on his rope. Grant gasped for air as the rope
tightened around his neck, blocking his airways. I kept my icy appearance and
shout down at him.
"Get on your useless legs Grant. Or do I have to strangle you?"
Grant picked up the hint, he crawled on his hands and knees and tried clumsily
to rise on his feet. I observed his undignified behavior with some kind of
perverted pleasure and felt shivers down my spine. Although I convinced myself
that it was the rush of revenge and not depraved lust that made me tremble. But
I couldn't help thinking of ripping off his clothes and letting him walk in the
freezing cold night naked and tied up like a slave. Swiftly, I brushed these
disturbing thoughts out of my mind and mounted back on my horse to resume our
journey.
We kept on riding till the sun started climbing the sky. I knew that we should
stop and rest, especially with our limited provision of water and Grant being on
his last feet. But a cruel little voice in my head kept telling me to keep on
riding till the man started begging me for water once again. But my victim was
as stubborn as a mountain goat and held his mouth shut while he dragged himself
through the intoxication heat, his head bend towards the ground, his sandy hair
hanging in front of his half-closed eyes like a wet curtain. The heat became
unbearable by the afternoon, with the sun ruling in a cloudless sky. I refreshed
myself with a sip of cool water from my hip flask. Grant walked beside me, I
held his leash to short to allow him falling behind again. He looked at me as I
brought the flask to mouth and took another sip. Instinctively, he licked his
dry lips. He must be thirsty as hell by now.
I smiled down at him teasingly.
"You know if you beg me again, I would probably give you some water."
Grant didn't respond, he drew his eyes to the ground and ignored me. Trying to
keep my calm I asked him again.
"Grant! Beg me if you want me to give you something to drink!"
He raised his head and stared blind into the distance. I felt my blood boil as
he kept ignoring me as if I was an annoying bug instead of the tormentor that
had power over his life and death. I swung my spores into my horse, letting it
rear and ride in full gallop. Grant fell with his face in the sand and was
dragged by his throat over the plains. I didn't look back and I couldn't hear
him yelling with the warm western wind roaring in my ears, but I could imagine
him almost choking to death. I rode in full frenzy till my anger was calmed down
and my reason took over once again. With a pull on the reins, I stopped the
horses and breathed deeply before I had the courage to take a look back at
Grant.
4.
"Please...Give me water...Please..."
He mumbled with his eyes closed as I put a cool damp cloth against the bruises
and scratch wounds on his skin. Grant stirred, opened his eyes and looked
suspiciously on his surroundings. As he tried to move his hands or feet, he
found out that he was restrained. I had removed his shirt and had tied his hands
and feet together for the night, but had released him from his leash. The red
and swollen marks running across his neck showed exactly where the rope had
been. Grant gave up his fight and relaxed his sore body as I resoaked the cloth
and applied it to his swollen flesh. The coolness soothed the pain and he closed
his eyes for a moment. I had ran my fingers over his chest, toughing it
tenderly. Grant cleared his dry and painful throat and then look at me. His eyes
were showing his confusion.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
I stared back at him, and was sure that he recognized in my eyes the dark storms
that had been roaming inside his own, since he pulled his gaze away from me. The
damp cloth traveled over his skin towards his groin. As it reached the crotch of
his trousers, I squeezed the water out, soaking it into the fabric. Grant stared
at the dark stain on his trousers and ran his tongue over his dry lips. I raised
myself on my feet and looked down at the helpless man.
"Thirsty Grant?"
Grant looked up, too weak and his spirit too broken to fight back, he nodded. He
was defeated. I cheered inside. A sadistic grin appeared on my face without
myself realizing it.
"Maybe I can help you out."
I unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down over my ankles. Grant looked at me
with a puzzled and concerned look on his face while I smiled back at him
naughtily.
"Surely there is nothing down there that you haven't seen before."
I pulled down my undies. Now standing with my sex fully exposed, I picked up the
gun out of the pile of clothes and aimed at him.
"Crawl over here Grant!"
Grant kept eyeing at me, still not convinced that what happened to him was real
and not a twisted wet dream. To help him back to reality, I clicked the hammer
back.
"Start crawling if you value your balls Grant! I'm not a very good shoot but
those I can't miss."
Grant was convinced, he started to crawl over to me on his arms and knees,
moaning softly as little sticks and rocks were scraping over his wounds. He
kneeled before my feet with his nose almost toughing the soft curls of my pubic
hair. He could probably smell the scent of my dripping wet pussy. I ran my
fingers through his sand covered hair and gently toughed his cheeks. Then I
pushed his chin up so I could look him in the eyes. I searched them for any sign
of fear, something that I wanted to detect in him since the first time we met,
but his appearance seemed as calm as ever, except for the anger that was
smoldering deep down. Unsatisfied with what I had seen, I pinched his cheeks
together, forcing his lips to part and pushed the end of John's gun inside his
mouth. Surely this will soothe his anger. I licked his cold earlobe and
whispered softly into his ear.
"I will let you lick my pussy Grant, and if you satisfy me enough, I'll give you
something to kill your thirst with. But if you try to fuck with me or bite
me..."
I pushed the gun deeper down his throat and bit in his earlobe, Grant groaned
and squeezed his eyes.
"I assure you that you'll have to crawl on your hands and knees all day to find
the little pieces of your testicles back in the dessert."
I pulled the gun out of his mouth, and pushed his head down. Grant coughed and
blinked. He was obviously frustrated.
"I thought I've already fucked you."
Hot blood raised to my head as anger erupted inside me. How dare he talk to me
like that while I'm holding a gun against his head! I clenched the gun in my
fist and swung it forward, hitting him hard on his jaw with the back of the gun.
Grant groaned and his head swung backwards, I pulled him back by his hair and
administrated another blow right in his left eye. Like a poisonous snake, I
hissed dangerously;
"Keep your smart remarks to yourself. Now start licking."
I pushed his head into my pussy. Grant coughed as he almost choked on my thick
lavish bush of pubic hair. He finally seemed to be willing to cooperate. I
shivered as I felt his wet tongue toughing the inner parts of my thighs and
sliding over my skin, caressing it tenderly. He nuzzled his nose in my hair and
I could feel him breath on my wet pussy. The hot air awakened my sex and made my
pussy lips blush. Then, his soft lips kissed my vulva and send prickling
pleasures into my body. I closed my eyes to cherish the moment and licked my own
swollen red lips with the tip of my tongue. Grant was determined to perform his
task as well as he could. Like an obedient dog, he pushed with his head against
my groin, gently urging me to spread my legs further apart. I did what he asked.
In the flickering light of the campfire we looked like a mythical being, two
entities that breathed and moved as one. I moaned and sexual delight washed over
my body as his adventurous tongue found my clitoris and licked it thoroughly.
His hot lips invaded my moist valleys and also found their way to that sensuous
organ, and started placing kisses all over it. I hold my breath in utter delight
and threw my neck back, my long golden hair brushed over my bare buttocks, as he
cupped my clitoris with his lips and started suckling on it while his tongue
played with the tip. I thought that I went mad with pleasure. No longer able to
control myself, I screamed and clenched my hands into fists. I came while
panting heavily, and warm fluids flooded my pussy. Grant didn't wait for my
approval to satisfy his thirst, he pushed his lips around the entrance of my
vagina and suckled loudly on my juices like a hungry calf while he groaned of
eagerness. With half closed eyes I looked at him, my cheeks were warm and rosy
and I felt so relaxed that I let him drink. This guy really knew how to satisfy
a woman, and he deserved his reward.
He licked my pussy dry and then looked up at me, his face was red and shiny with
a mixture of sweat and pussy juice. He didn't say a word, but with his eyes he
begged me for more. The salty warm liquid had only intensified his thirst. I
smiled sweetly and ran my finger over his moist lips.
"Stay where you are Grant, stay and collect your reward."
I pushed his face gently into my sex again and started to stroke his hair
casually as someone would stroke his pet dog. Then I relaxed my muscles and
emptied my bladder. Hot piss streamed down my legs in first hesitating streams.
I didn't want to mess up my pants if Grant didn't react as he should. But he was
really as thirsty as I thought he was. His sensuous lips cupped my entire pussy
and his greediness to drink every drop of my golden stream caused my groin to be
sucked towards him. I watched as his Adam's apple went up and down madly with
every draught he took. He came out of breath, still continued to drown himself
in my fluids, savoring them like precious liquid gems. As he finally drained me
from my last bladder contents, my prisoner licked up the last drops dangling at
the curly ends of my pubic hair. They glistered in the flames of the campfire
like dew collected on delicate spring leaves.
I ran my hands through his hairs. It felt moist of sweat. Slowly I bend towards
him and placed a tender kiss between his eyes. He closed them as my lips toughed
his skin. With two fingers of my gun hand I traced the curvatures of his
beautiful lips and sensed that he was trembling. As they reached the valley of
his cupid bow, they reached down and entered the wetness of his slightly opened
mouth. Gently, he sucked on my two fingers, rolling his tongue over them like a
wave rolling over a coastline while kissing them occasionally. He kept his eyes
closed, and moved around the intruders, every movement was gracious and sexy.
His nose toughed the cold steel of the gun.With my free hand, I traced his body,
lowering my tough slowly but steadily, till I reached the ragged entrance of his
trousers. Like a dessert snake, my hand slipped underneath the fabric into the
warm and moist cave. There I found Grant's throbbing penis. As I toughed it, my
hand burnt itself on it's radiant heat. My slender fingers curled around his
shaft and started squeezing it gently. First slowly, but gradually building up
the pace till it reached the speed of a galloping horse. Grant's mouth opened
and lost interest in my fingers as it was too occupied taking gasps of breath.
He groaned softly, almost as if he was afraid of showing his pleasure in my
presence. My tongue wet my lips and with a burning passion I pressed them upon
his. He drowned in my kisses, gasping air between every collision of the lips.
He whimpered softly as my hand started to intensify the grip on his swollen
penis. These little pitiful sounds, so harmless and so vulnerable, made me want
more. My snake-fingers strangled his lid, squeezed the blood out of his erect
organ. Grant's smothered whimpering intensified, my actions causing him great
pain. Still, my appetite for his suffering was not satisfied. Like a boa
constrictor finishing its victim, my hand rolled his lid around its base,
twisting it mercilessly. Grant's eyes pulled white, he jerked himself away from
my greedy lips, and cried out of pain. That stimulated my libido even further. I
couldn't let go, I was so close to my second orgasm. My nails dug deep into his
swollen lid, cutting through his flesh like razorblades.
"Helen, Please!"
Grant's face was pulled into a grotesque mask of agony, tears welted in his eyes
from which some I was sure that they came of humiliation. I placed my boot on
his bare chest and pushed him down while I kept my merciless grip on his
genitals. My resoneer laait tere in the sant, helpless and pitiful.
"Time for seconds Grant."
I raised my groin to up to his face and sat on top, my position resembled a
comical version of a rodeo cowboy that had seated himself facing the wrong end
of the animal while holding it's tail as a rein. My animal was coughing and
painting beneath my saddle of pubic hair. His nose and mouth were buried deep
into my sex and he was drowning in it like a baby in a bathtub. But I didn't
care about him, I wanted to come. With a stern pull on his lid, I reassured that
my pussy got the desired attention while I worked myself into a hot steaming
orgasm.
