The Nevada Fifty

Part Two

Written by Thunderbolt1234, Raidrlsr@aol.com Warning 18 or older or get off my story All characters are property of others this story contains very descriptive scenes of sex , bondage, murder, rape, incest.

Ch 5

Both men pulled their hoods off. One was Bill Masters who had escorted Kimberly Reed out of the stage coach.

The other was Roger Hanson, Betty’s brother and wanted murderer. The men

worked on the buttons, clasps and buckles of the Rangerette’s outfit. Betty made sure the heroines costume was not ripped. Her gun belt was removed, then her spurs and boots.

She wore small wool socks which Roger yanked off and tossed to Betty. Bill slowly rolled the hero on her side and with difficulty, unhooked her brassier. The garment fell off.

Bill let her fall onto her back and both men caught their breath seeing the large forty-four inch breasts defy gravity and stand up firm.

Roger stopped working on the hero’s regular belt and gazed at the two mounds of hard flesh. “Shit those are huge, god damn!”

Roger remembered several years ago when he stood out in the rain and watched his sister Betty undress. Her tits where almost as big but the Rangerette’s breasts had larger nipples and didn’t sag.

Betty hit her brother with the back of her hand and yelled. “HURRY UP, WE DON’T HAVE ALL DAY…YOU CAN DO WHAT YOU WANT WITH HER WHEN I LEAVE!”

Bill undid the heroines belt and pulled it off. Roger unbuttoned the tight cotton pants and gradually slid them down and off. The hero had no lower undergarments on and both men licked their lips seeing the perfect triangle of blonde pussy hair.

Betty grabbed all the clothing and climbed out of the wagon. She carried the clothes to Limelight and stuffed them in a saddle bag.

Roger and Bill watched from the back of the wagon. Betty waved and rode off in a cloud of dust. Roger turned and hooked his hands under his suspenders and flipped them off. “I’m first Bill, get out I want some privacy.”

Masters climbed out and dug out his pouch of tobacco and papers. “Hey if ya fuck her cunt, I want her ass, I aint fucking a hole you use so use one and not both.”

Hanson grinned and closed the wagon flap. He continued to undress never taking his eyes off the Rangerette’s huge tits.

Roger knelt and with shaking hands cupped each enormous tit in his hands. “Oh shit…so fucking firm, like watermelons!” Hanson leaned down and took one nipple in his mouth and sucked it. The soft skin wrinkled in his mouth and got hard.

He chewed the flesh and with his teeth, stretched the skin. If the Rangerette had been awake, she would have been screaming in pain. “Mmmm…so delicious.” Roger sucked and mauled the hero’s breasts until the soft skin had scratches and bite marks.

“As much as I want to fuck that sweet cunt, I bet you aint had a good cock in that big ass.” The villain took hold of the Rangerette’s arm and roughly flipped her on her stomach. He smiled seeing her smooth round ass.

With a wrenching pull, Hanson separated the heroines buttocks and buried his face between the warm cheeks. He could smell lilac and rose water which most women used in their baths. “Nice and tight, I have to be the first to taste your bung.”

“You are to much a lady to let any man do this.“

Roger drove his tongue into her puckered asshole. He pushed and pushed making wet slurping noises. Holding her ass apart, Hanson pushed one then two fingers deep in the young hero’s anus.

The wagon slightly rocked back and forth as Roger forcibly jammed his fingers as deep as he could. “Gotta stretch you out, I got a big cock and it wont fit.”

The sound of wet suction echoed in the canvas topped vehicle. When he was satisfied, Hanson climbed on top of the heroine and guided his hard dick to her ass.

It took a few jabs and a hard shove but Roger got most of his cock in the Rangerette’s ass. “God damn, shiiitt…its like fucking a darn key hole!” Filling his hands with soft blonde hair, Hanson fucked the unconscious hero as hard as he could.

Masters grinned peeping in the wagon at his friend. He whispered to himself as he rubbed his rock hard cock. “Hell yea fuck her ass, that leaves her pussy for me…I’m gonna fuck a legend!”

The Lone Rangerette’s large tits bounced up and down hitting the course burlap sacks. Hanson stuck his face into the hero’s mane of hair and smelled the sweet lye soap she used.

Each thrust brought a slurpping noise and he could feel a warm wet sensation running down his cock. Looking down as best he could by the lanturn light, Hanson could see blood. "Damn I ripped ya, tore that bung hole wide open!"

Roger forced both hands under the heroine and clawed her large breasts. He kneaded and twisted the large orbs until he climaxed. Grabbing two handfuls of flesh, Hanson stretched the skin almost ripping them.

“Arghhhh shit I’m cumming!”

Roger thrust harder making the hero’s bunghole emit a wet farting noise. He cried out again and filled her rectum with hot cum. His body shuddered and he gasped a long sigh, then fell on her panting for air.

“I aint had a good fuck in so long, damn that was good.” Hanson rolled off the hero with his cock making a damp popping noise. He laughed seeing the Rangerette’s butt hole gaping with blood and cum dripping out.

“See, I ripped ya, aint no ass virgin anymore.”

Masters climbed in and lightly kicked Roger. “Get out its my turn.”

The murderer pulled his clothes together and descend the wagon. “Have fun boy, she is the best you are ever gonna get.”

Masters looked down at the hero, ass in the air and wet cum oozing out of her stretched hole. He grinned while he pushed her butt cheeks together and her anus made a “splorch” sound. Wet syrupy man juice leaked out mixed with blood.

He casually put his foot on her hip and pushed her onto her side. No one knew but he was a virgin…but not for long.

“I’m gonna lose my virginity to a hero…a legend.” Masters was naked in a instant, thrashing and throwing his clothes everywhere. He wanted to just stick his cock in and fuck the beauty but he used all the self control he could muster.

With trembling hands the nineteen year old caressed and squeezed the Rangerette’s abused breasts. “Damn these feel so good…just like a fat cow’s utters.” His eyes wandered down her strong body to the triangle of blonde hair.

Bill let his hand drift over her stomach and his fingers ran through the course pubic hair of the vagina not many men had seen. He pinched a copious amount of hair and yanked. The sound of the hair being ripped out made he laugh.

To his surprise he found the heroines pussy wet. His fingers slipped in easily and he explored the Rangerette’s cunt.

Her soft pussy lips where not as large as the bar men had described of the whores in town. Masters licked the soft wrinkled skin and slipped his tongue deep in her cunt. The heroines juice tasted delicious and Bill lapped and licked which just made the hero more wet.

Bill didn’t have much experience but he knew what to do from listening to the bar brawlers who would boast and brag about their conquests. With a grunt, Masters positioned his cock between the heroines legs.

With his eyes closed, he pushed his cock against the heroines wet cunt. Masters looked at the beautiful woman under him, kissed her then thrust his cock in. “I did it…I’m not a virgin!”

The feeling of hot tight pussy wrapping around his cock made Bill cum. He didn’t last more then five strokes. Thick sperm rich cum blasted into the Rangerette’s womb.

Masters groaned and laughed from the incredible feeling. “Shit…oh shit…I bet I get ya preggers…that would be funny, me the daddy of The Lone Rangerette’s kid!”

Bill relaxed on top of the heroine playing with her tits and kissing her. Hanson had sat down and fell asleep against a tree. He had to wait…wait till Betty returned for part two of their plan.

Ch 6

The large Hank Clark estate was having a small party to celebrate the running of the Nevada Fifty. Mister Clark sat in his wheelchair at a large dinner table raising a glass and toasting the event. His huge beard was damp from dinner and drinks earlier.

He grinned from under the whiskers and licked his lips awaiting the Champagne.

At the table sat Sherriff Winston Fuller, his wife Irene, the town Mayor Philbert Hawkins and his wife Mildred, and Judge Jefferson Canterbury.

“Friends, I have always loved the race, and what it brings to me…money!” The group laughed and drank the Champagne provided. Fuller lit a cigar and sat back.

“So its all set, your horse will win and we again ha ha ha get a butt load of money.” Clark also lit a cigar then ran the not lit end in his empty glass of Champagne. “Yes you will all get what you deserve…money that is.”

The celebration was interrupted by a figure walking in slowly. The jangle of spurs brought everyone’s attention to the main foyer’. Hawkins stood and watched as a woman entered…a woman in a mask.

“Wow, if that don’t beat all…The Lone Rangerette, this is an honor.” The Rangerette walked in with a smile, then drew her Colt Walker 40 cal revolvers and she opened fire.

Philbert Hawkins was hit right between the eyes. Brains and skull pieces splattered his wife Mildred who screamed shaking her head. The second shot hit Sherriff Fuller in the neck. The lawman gagged and grabbed his throat. Blood squirted on the table and into the air.

Two quick shots hit Mildred Hawkins in the chest and jaw. Her heart was ripped open by the large bore slug. Irene fell out of her chair and ran but was hit by a slug in the back of her hair bun. The piece of silver tore through her forehead hitting the opposite wall.

Judge Canterbury drew a small hip gun, a one shot derringer. He fired hitting the Rangerette on the top of her shoulder. The masked woman screamed and fired a quick shot hitting the Judge in the hand.

The masked shooter fired one more round striking Hank Clark in the shoulder, then she ran out.

The Judge wrapped his hand in a large serviette and turned to Irene and Mildred. Both stared up at him with dead eyes. “MURDERER…YOU VILE WENCH…I WILL SEE YOU HANG DO YOU HEAR ME HANGGGGGGG!”

Clark did his best to roll to a small door then stopped in pain. “Judge…in there…my personal telegraph…call the town…get help.”

Canterbury quickly opened the door and saw the small telegraph set up. He quickly tapped out a message to Bent Oak.

“FOUR MURDERED AT HAWKINS ESTATE…STOP…LONE RANGERETTE IS SHOOTER…STOP…APPREHEND DEAD OR ALIVE…END.”

Clark yelled for his servant who was hiding in the kitchen. “Hitch up a wagon, we need to get to the doc’s, and…take the victims to the barn…dear god…why did she do it?”

Unknown to the victims, the Rangerette had stopped before exiting. She ran into the study near the front door and looked around. On a huge desk, she saw her target.

The shooter quickly grabbed a large book off the desk and ran out of the estate.

Ch 7

Hanson had awoke and still feeling amorous, sat on top of the Rangerette and crushed her tits around his cock. “Ugh…these big tits deserve a good fucking.”

It didn’t take the thug long before he felt hot cum surging up his cock. Hanson leaned down quickly and pushed his dick in the heroines mouth. “Arghhh yesss, swaller it all.“

Thick glops of cum slid down her throat. The Rangerette, delirious, swallowed the hot spunk. Cum dribbled down her cheek and lips, then collected on her neck.

“Damn its gonna suck not fucking you anymore.”

He stood and shoved his wet cock in his pants just as Betty rode up dressed as The Lone Rangerette. She slid off the horse and pulled her hat and mask off. “Damn you rode the Rangerette good, rode her hard and put her away wet like a work horse!”

The men laughed and looked at Betty with anxious excitement. Hanson finally broke and yelled. “So, did ya do it, did ya get it?”

The villain rubbed her shoulder where the slug had grazed and pulled her clothes out of the saddle bag. Walking behind a tree she changed into her clothes and tossed out the Rangerette’s outfit.

“Yea, did it just as planned, you should have seen it, all the blood, shit it was perfect.”

“Now I got something special for the Lone Rangerette.“

Ch 8

The gun shot echoed in the town square and the race began. All the horses tore off down the street and headed out of town. The race, a fifty mile circle, would be grueling because the riders couldn’t take breaks or stop for any reason.

Tonta took off and was almost immediate stuck in fifth place. To her surprise, Crackshot wasn’t fast at all. The horse was quick in turns but slow on a straight path.

After an hour, Tonta was in eighth place and no matter what she did, she couldn’t get Crackshot to run any faster. As she rounded a large out crop of boulders she heard a whistle.

Crackshot reined and stopped instantly. The young squaw flew in the air screaming. Tonta had no control and tumbled across the rocks and smashed against a tree.

The other racers just rode past laughing as they saw the young woman laying bleeding. As the last rider past, a hooded man rose from behind the rocks and approached the unconscious hero.

He pulled his gloves off quickly and rubbed Tonta’s large breasts. The hooded attacker wanted to just rip her clothes off and fuck her, but he was under orders.

With a grunt the man flung Tonta over Crackshots backside and he mounted the horse. His hand dug under the young squaws leather skirt. Probing he found the soft petals of her pussy. Moving his hand just right his fingers invaded the private hole reserved for a special man in Tonta’s life.

With his free hand, the attacker pulled his hood off. Jim Randle shook his head to fling sweat off of his face. He licked his lips and began to finger fuck the young indian.

After a few moments, he pulled his hand out and licked his moist fingers. “Damn you taste delicious, I’m gonna make you mine…some how some way.”

Randle kicked his spurs and rode off in a cloud of dust.

Hanson, Masters and Betty stood smiling.

The trio had tied the Lone Rangerette’s hands behind her back and knotted her long blond locks to a rope. Now the hero, still nude, swung back and forth moaning, hanging by her hair.

The heroine moaned and began to come to.

In the distance Betty could hear a horse approaching.

“About time you got here, and I see ya got the injun.” Randle slid off Crackshot and carefully lifted Tonta off the horse and rested her on the ground. “Why the fuck did ya hair hang her?”

Hanson spoke in a yell. “CAUSE WE WAS TOLD TO, WE WAS TOLD TO MAKE THE BITCH SUFFER!”

Betty grinned and dug out the book she had stolen from Hank Clark’s home. Opening it, she smiled seeing the book was false. Inside was a small silver vial.

“Shit it is as he said, it’s the “Shaman Blood.”

All the men looked at the small vial with curiosity. Randle took a small piece of parchment from out of the book and looked at it. He knew what the liquid would do, or what it was suppose to do, and he was the only one that could read.

“We need to test it, uh test it on the injun.” Hanson said.

Roger shook their head and argued. “Nah, just pour it down the Rangerette’s throat, if its poison…so what.” Betty disagreed. “If we kill the bitch the plan fails, go ahead Jim, do it.”

Randle knelt over Tonta and opened her mouth. She let out a slight moan.

He broke the seal on the vial and pulled out the cork. The liquid had a smell like death, and was black as pitch. Jim slowly poured some of the potion in the young hero’s mouth. Tonta involuntarily swallowed it.

Randle re-corked the vial and stood back. “Everyone get back, get over behind the tree, I don’t know what’s gonna happen.” The party not knowing what could occur moved back. Tonta suddenly shrieked and grabbed her head.

“ARGHHHHHHEEEEEEE NOOOOOOOOO IT HURTSSSSS!” The young squaw convulsed and bounced on the ground. She curled into a ball and screamed over and over in agony.

Slowly she calmed down, Randle leaned down and whispered in her ear. The heroine stood uneasy and smiled. The group moved from cover and looked at Tonta. Betty moved closer and looked in her eyes.

All she saw was black.

“Damn she is hexed, hot damn…what you say to her Randle?”

Jim moved Tonta to Crackshot and helped her in the saddle. “I told her she was to obey me, and it worked, the Shaman Blood works.”

Betty turned with a large smile and pointed to the Rangerette. “Git her down, we need to be quick, give her the blood.”

Jim climbed on Crackshot and pulled Tonta up behind him. Both left quickly with Randle grinning at his new prize.

Ch 9

In a few moments the Rangerette was in her outfit. The men of course manhandled and mauled the hero’s large breasts one last time.

Betty took the vial of Shaman’s Blood from Randle and knelt over the heroine. Bill…open her mouth.”

The young man slowly parted the soft lips of the Lone Rangerette. Betty laughed and began to pour the black fluid down her throat. But before the fluid made it to her tongue, the Rangerette awoke. Seeing what was happening, she shoved Bill aside and shoved the vial down Betty’s throat. All the liquid slid easily past Betty’s lips.

Roger and Bill subdued the still weak hero and hauled her to her feet. “Son of a bitch, god fucking damn it, you fucking cunt.” Roger screamed.

Betty shrieked and bounced around in the dirt. “GAG GAG…nahhharghhhhh!”

Roger grabbed his sister and held her while Bill held the Rangerette. He cried out in anger and dug out the empty vile from his sisters mouth. But while he had her close whispered in her ear. “Ya will do what ever yer brother says…anything.”

Bill could hear a wagon approaching and turned pulling the Rangerette with him. Soon, a large buckboard rambled up to the group. Betty stood shaky but stayed next to her brother.

On the wagon sat Hank Clark and Judge Jefferson Canterbury. Both had bandages from their wounds and on their faces, smiles.

“Well well…I see you caught the vile killer…Rangerette ya gonna hang for this.”

The Lone Rangerette shook her head in confusion. “I have broken no law, these scum have kidnapped me and (looking ashamed) raped me.” Clark laughed so hard he choked. “Ya don’t know me do ya…Kimberly…yea I know who you is.”

The Lone Rangerette had known the attackers would take off her mask but only Jim Randle knew her by sight.

“Ya dumb cunt…its me Horace Mitchell…you remember, your cunt friend Tonta shot me and left me with no legs.” The Rangerette remembered and now tried to strike out in anger. “You should have died…you raped me, you all where going to kill me!”

Clark explained.

“With his last breath…Bad Pete Murphy told me of a secret stash of gold he had.”

“I found it, invested it in a coal company here in Bent Oak and got rich. Yea I fixed the Nevada Fifty every year and got my new friends rich.”

“I had sheriff Fuller in my pocket, the Mayor, and with the help of my pal here Judge Canterbury here I had the town by the balls!”

“But Fuller and Mayor Hawkins got greedy and I had to get them removed and I thought what a better way to get revenge on you then…framing you for their death.”

“Its over Miss Reed, the days of the Lone Rangerette are finished…ya see the judge has a lot of pull and now there is a warrant for your capture…dead or alive.”

The judge grinned and spit chaw juice on the Rangerette.

“We was gonna just use the Shaman’s Blood on ya and have ya admit to the crime and go to the gallows freely, but as I can see by the way Betty is just standin there more dumb then usual, that’s not the case.”

She had heard of Shaman’s Blood but always thought it was a old tale spoke by drunks and perverts about its use.

The hero just stood in shock. “You cant think this will work…I have friends too, powerful friends who know I wouldn’t do this…you will fail.”

Judge Canterbury rolled a cigarette and coughed to get attention. “It wont matter…ya see these fine people, Roger and Betty Hanson, and Bill Masters all will get rewards for your capture and…you will hang by tmorra morn.”

“By the way Jim Randle helped us as well, ya may have thought he was your friend but gold has a funny way of turnin people.”

The Rangerette stood in shock.

“J…Jim…he is my friend…you lie, he wouldn’t do that.” Clark just laughed and motioned for the men to move the hero to his wagon. “Ha…right now he is most likely mounted your injun friend and is fucking her silly.”

“Ya see, Jim lost his wife to the tuberculosis last year, such a sad slow death, and well he was…lonely.”

“Tonta will fight him, she will kill him if he touches her…she will!”

The judge’s face now took a erie glow from the match he had struck. “Well havin drank the Shaman blood, I bet she is just a tame docile house bitch by now.”

For the first time…The Lone Rangerette shook with fear.

Ch 10

Randle lay nude in his bed, several candles burned to make the room as illuminated as possible. He had the beginnings of an erection but his cock got rock hard seeing Tonta walk in wearing the sheer gown he had bought on his trip to Kansas.

Through the thin material he could easily see the dark patch of pubic hair and both her large brown nipples. As she walked in barefoot, Jim got uneasy seeing a large knife in her hand.

“What…what’s that for…uh Tonta?” The young woman brought the knife up and drew it behind her head. With one swipe she cut her four foot long pony tail off. She placed the knife on the bedside table and handed Jim her hair. “I am yours now, I am your wife…I will obey anything you say…my husband.”

Jim took the hair and held it. He had heard some tribes valued their hair like their lives…it was their soul. With a flick of his hand the hair sailed to the floor. “We will make our marriage proper with the Judge tomorrow, you are a proper woman now, not a savage.”

“Yes my husband…my squa is yours.”

Randle smiled and motioned for Tonta to get in bed with him. He knew the term “squa” was a tribal term for her cunt. Tonta crawled on all fours onto the bed and sat on top of Jim. She smiled and slowly brought the gown she wore up and dropped it on the bed behind her.

Jim caught his breath seeing her large forty inch breasts and her muscular body glow in the candlelight. “Put it in your mouth…suck it.”

Tonta smiled, licked her lips and slid down Jim’s body until his cock was resting on her face. “I want many babies…my body is yours…your spunk must be in me not in my mouth.”

Randle pushed her head to his cock and with a jab pushed his dick in her mouth. “We will have many youngin’s, but for now…suck it.”

Tonta drove her husbands cock deep in her mouth and sucked it as best she could. Jim moaned and closed his eyes remembering the first time he had seen the indian. “God yesss.”

Tonta licked and sucked her new husbands cock. She ran her tongue around his balls and took each in her mouth. Her hands massaged and pulled his dick as she went up and down on the long shaft.

In Tonta was passion, he was her husband, her mate, the father of her future children. To Jim, she was a cunt…a piece of flesh for his pleasure. He would feed her thoughts of a future as a wife but use her as a slave…to work in the daytime and be his whore at night.

She serviced his cock for over an hour bringing him to near climax many times. But Randle wanted to fuck her. He enjoyed her mouth, this made him smile thinking about how she was so pure…high and mighty.

He thought as she sucked his dick. “Tonta…the hero of the west, the partner of the great Lone Rangerette…now his wife.”

Randle pulled Tonta up so she sat on him. The indian new what she was to do next. With her hand, she guided his cock to her wet pussy. “Make me with child, it is my duty as your wife.”

Jim didn’t care if she got knocked up, he reached up and roughly cupped each of the young brave’s breasts and pulled her down. His cock slid in her tight cunt with one push. Tonta cried out and trembled in pain. “I am sorry husband…I am not with maidenhead…ugh…but…oh it feels so gooooood!”

“I don’t care if you been broke Tonta, but you is mine, no one else is to ever get in this…squa but me.”

Randle kneaded and crushed the hero’s tits. He pinched each nipple feeling them get hard between his fingers. Tonta contorted and arched her back so she could ride his cock smoothly.

Jim pulled her down by her breasts and kissed her. Their tongues wrapped and licked with a loud wet sound. Randle licked and kissed her neck and ear. He could smell the scent of lilac which he had given her to bathe in earlier.

After thirty minutes of fucking, Jim moved from under her and pushed Tonta on all fours. He looked down at her large dark tanned ass and aimed his cock for her wrinkled asshole.

The head of his cock pushed against the tight hole and she cried out. “No husband…please, I have not had a man there…it is not for men to use.”

Randle’s grabbed her now short hair with one hand and her shoulder with his other. “You will do as I say wife, every hole on you is mine.”

Tonta closed her eyes and awaited the pain. “Yes husband…I obey.”

Jim pushed his cock head in her ass then slowly worked all eight inches deep in her rectum. Tonta buried her face in a feather pillow and screamed in agony.

“OH PLEASEEEE HUSBAND…IT HURTS…IT IS NOT FOR A MAN!!!”

Randle had his eyes closed and could hear nothing but the sopping sound of his cock ripping Tonta’s ass open. His balls slapped her pussy with such force he hurt himself. “I…UGH SAID…ITS MINE!”

Jim pummeled the young hero’s rectum for as long as he could hold out. Then with a “smorch” pulled his cock out and impaled Tonta in her cunt again. He buried himself as deep as he could. “Arghhhhhhh yessssssss ahhhhhhh.“ Deep inside Tonta’s cunt, thick sperm rich cum filled her womb.

Thousands of sperm coursed into Tonta heading straight for a ripe embryo. Within a day she would be pregnant.

Randle pumped his cock into her until it softened and he fell on the bed panting for air. Tonta although in pain, slid next to him and cuddled. Jim pushed her head down to his soft cock and smiled.

“Lick it off, clean it, then you got chores to do.”

Ch 11

The Rangerette muffled a scream as she was thrown into the air and landed on the floor of her cell. The building was small, one cell no office. It was built as a single room storage shed but was converted a year earlier for prisoner holding.

Horace and the judge laughed seeing her scramble on the floor. She had been gagged and blindfolded and her hands now manacled behind her back.

The Judge walked in and fell to his knees next to the hero. He roughly grabbed her hips and forced her to all fours. She was to weak to fight and knew what he was going to do. Hands pulled her tight pants down revealing her ass and sore battered pussy.

Canterbury dug out his cock and rubbed its hard head against the Rangerette’s abused labia. He laughed hearing her grunt in anger. Jefferson spit on his hand, moistened his member and pushed it into the heroine.

Again The Lone Rangerette felt the intrusion of another man. The judge started slow then began to pound the subdued hero. “Ugh ugh take it bitch, I am going to be the last man to get inside this cunt.”

The sound of his body slapping against hers made Clark laugh out loud. “Shit Jefferson I would say you should knock up the bitch but…oh wait she will be dead tomorrow!”

Canterbury’s balls churned and he arched his back in triumph. He climaxed and pumped more cum in the Rangerette’s womb. With a shove he pushed the heroine aside and stood watching spunk leak out of her pussy.

The judge exited pulling his pants back up and spit through the small opening in the oak door. The juice hit her on her ass cheek which made the heroine jump. “I got a tree in the middle of town, I call it Big Earl, cause I hung Earl One Eye Baxter from it a year ago.”

“Its all set for ya tomorrow, your gonna die Rangerette, hung by that pretty neck just like a common murderer.”

The judge pushed Clark’s wheelchair away with both men laughing. The Rangerette knew she had one chance and one chance only.

The following afternoon, a cart rambled down the center road of the town with the Rangerette chained in the back. Crowds lined the streets jeering and throwing old fruit and dirt at the heroine. Millard Fitz the town Dagueereotype expert had set up a camera at he tree.

The Judge had promised he would unmask the Lone Rangerette and Fitz could take a picture of her. Wilson McDonough the town doctor just eyed the hero’s huge breasts.

When she was dead he would be the man who would prepare her body for burial. And he was going to enjoy seeing her naked.

At the tree Judge Canterbury had two men unchain and drag the hero to the base of the tall oak. “This…wench will hang for her crimes, for killing innocent people.”

Jefferson pulled the hero to face the camera and with a yank, pulled her hat, mask and gag off. The crowd gasped seeing Betty Hanson standing there. Canterbury shook his head and pushed the red head aside. “You aint the Rangerette…what’s going on?”

Betty smiled and began to shout. “I POSED AS THE HERO THE LONE RANGERETTE BECAUSE JUDGE CANTERBURY AND HANK CLARK TOLD ME TO!”

The men looked at each other in shock. Hank Clark rolled to Betty and shoved her. “You are a liar, you stupid cunt, you aint no hero!” Betty smiled at Clark and then spit at him. “Your involved, you arranged it all.

One man ran forward and pointed to Betty’s shoulder. “Look she has the wound…you shot her Judge…you told me so, Betty Hanson is the Lone Rangerette!”

Clark didn’t know what happened but he had to shut Betty up. He drew a small revolver from his pocket and shot her. Betty cried out and doubled over, the slug ripping through her stomach.

Hanson fell to her knees and stared at the crowd. “I did it…they made me do it.” Her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell face first dead. The crowd surged forward and grabbed Canterbury while a man pulled the gun from Clarks hand.

In the distance a dark haired woman climbed on the stage coach. Kimberly Reed in her disguise careful sat in the coach and grimaced as her sore vagina made contact with the leather seat.

She had picked the lock on the manacles easily. Having spent time with the new devices she could easily open them with the small hidden wire she kept in her boot. Then she dug under the wall of the poorly constructed cell and shimmied under to freedom.

Quietly she made her way to the hotel and climbed the wall to her room and was happy to see her clothing and bags where still there. Now, under the cover of darkness, she moved down to Betty Hanson’s room. Inside she was disgusted to find Betty’s brother Roger fucking his own sister. After he had climaxed, she waited until the man exited to horse trough to wash himself and with a slam from a rock knocked him out.

Kimberly lugged Roger up and held him near an open window. She yelled in as good a male voice as she could for Betty. “Yes Roger…are you going to fuck me again?”

“No…I have a job for you, you are going to dress like the Lone Rangerette and tomorrow say what I tell you, do you understand?’

“Yes brother…anything you want.”

Ch 12

Kimberly rode the stage to Dodge City and acquired a hotel room to recover. She needed to research the “Shaman’s Blood” so she could rescue Tonta. She had heard that Judge Canterbury had married Tonta to Jim Randle.

The townsfolk had grabbed both Hank Clark and the Judge and held them until Federal officials could arrive and investigate the murders.

Kimberly just hoped Tonta was alright.

The End

e-mail me for a alternate bad ending or a alternate very bad ending at Raidrlsr@aol.com