The Nevada Fifty

Part One

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.

Ch1

The stagecoach rambled into the town of Bent Oak with a cloud of dust behind it. Its driver, Wallace B. Hicks yanked the reins back with a yell and a clomp of his foot on the brake. Several men from the supply and a feed store ran out and began to open the back of the coach.

The door opened and a gloved feminine hand beckoned someone to help her. One worker saw the beauty and rushed to aid her. Kimberly Reed, writer and journalist for the Police Gazette had arrived in town to report on the local horse race.

She wore her black hair up and in a tight bun. Her body although attractive was not an eye catcher. Her bust line was small and her buttocks almost flat. She smiled at the worker and asked him to carry her bags to the Sunshine Hotel.

The worker, Bill Masters, carried her two large bags and followed the school teacher looking woman to the hotel.

The desk clerk a busty red head named Betty Hanson greeted the dull looking woman and handed her a key to a room.

Masters grinned as the dark haired woman handed him a small gold token. The hired hand ran down the stairs towards the saloon. Reed entered her room and almost fell gasping for air. She undid the buttons on her top and pulled it off. Under her blouse, she wore a bone corset which she unlaced rapidly.

Soon, the corset burst open and her large breasts spilled out. Kim fell on the bed and yanked off the black wig causing hair pins to shoot everywhere. “The things I do for friends, god I almost passed out!” Reed had received a cable from her friend Jim Randle directed to her asking that she reach the Lone Rangerette.

She dug through her bag and found the small letter.

“Miss Reed, I once talked to you about our yearly horse race we have in our territory called “The Nevada Fifty” and how I felt it was fixed. I am now certain that the race is being controlled by Hank Clark the cattle baron and richest man in the territory. If you can reach your friend The Lone Rangerette, maybe she could get evidence for the local judge. Your friend Tonta could be the jockey on my horse Crackshot. She can then get a closer look at the race and maybe find the criminals involved.”

The race, had a purse of one thousand dollars which was provided by the country treasury. Hank Clark and his horse had won every year for five straight years. Reed pulled and yanked the rest of her clothes off and stood nude. In her bag she removed a wooden case. Inside where her dual Colt Walker 40 cal revolvers.

Beneath the case in her bag…was her mask.

Ch 2

She stood before a full length mirror and sighed. She stood just under five foot ten and had blonde hair well below her shoulders. Her hips where wide which to most men ment good baby making but she wouldn’t have children. “I’m not bringing little ones inta this world as sick as it is.”

Her breasts where her best asset and biggest problem. Measured she was forty-four inches around and getting corsets or bindings was a challenge. But in her costume, she wore a new over the shoulder type garment called a brassier.

She picked up the garment and held it in front of her. The material the cups where made of was stiff. She laughed how the brassier made her breasts pointy.

Across the street, eyes watched through spyglasses. Every move Reed made a figure watched. A tongue licked lips as the figure admired the figure of the hero. The thin lace curtains didnt hide her delicious body.

The figure could make out every detail of Reed's pubic hair and large brown nipples. The spy new he had to leave, he would get his chance with the famous Lone Rangerette later.

Reed stood looking at the brassier then closed her eyes. She had had another such garment but it had been torn off her. When she was raped.

~One Year Earlier~

She was clubbed across the back of her head as she approached a camp fire. Sitting around the fire was “Bad Lands Pete Murphy” and his three men.

They had captured her friend Tonta and the Rangerette did her best to remain quiet and rescue her. But the young indian was tied to a tree and luckily she didnt seem harmed. In the midst of moving close, she was hit from behind. A forth man, Big Bill Simmons had joined the gang the night before.

Tonta watched as Bill pulled the Rangerette to the camp fire buy her hair. The men circled her friend. Horace Mitchell knelt down and grabbed the hero by her neck. He yanked her head up and kissed her. Tonta’s stomach churned seeing his tongue in her mouth licking and slobbering.

“Damn she taste good, all clean, like a high priced dance hall girl.” Each man grabbed a different part of the Rangerette’s clothing and began to rip. Her top was torn free revealing her bra.

The men looked at it, then Murphy stuck his hands between her large breasts and with a pull, ripped it free. “Shit look at those fucking tits, even Kansas city whores don’t have em so big!”

Boots, gun belt, pants, everything went flying on the ground. In moments, the Lone Rangerette was nude except for her mask. “Why not the mask Pete?” The gang leader grinned and un-did his belt. “Cause if we take off the mask she is just a big tit whore...with it on, we is fucking the Lone Rangerette.”

The men staked her limbs down in the hard dirt. Harley Smith pulled a bottle of rot gut whiskey from his pocket and poured it on the hero’s face. She awoke spattering and gagging.

The Rangerette pulled and contorted with no success. “Let me go you scum…you will hang for this Murphy!”

The gang leader now pulled out his cock. Even the Rangerette’s eyes gaped at the huge penis. “I think the only thing hung is me, and your gonna suck it.” The Rangerette looked at the thug and spit. “I’ll bite it off if you dare put it in my mouth!”

Murphy grinned wider and motioned to Big Jim and Zeke. Zeke Lester walked to Tonta and in a flash pulled a huge knife from his belt. Big Jim grinned and squeezed Tonta‘s breasts through her leather vest. “Zeke if this bitch so much as shows her teeth, cut that squaw’s throat.”

The Rangerette looked at her friend. “Don’t touch her…don’t…alright…I’ll do it you piece of filth.”

Tonta yelled in anger and pulled at her ropes. “No kemosabe…don’t do it!” Zeke used the butt of his knife and struck the Indian in the stomach.

Murphy dropped to his knees and aimed his engorged cock at the hero’s mouth. “Don’t stop sucking till I tell you.” The Rangerette closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Pete dropped his full weight on her and his huge cock drove almost entirely down her throat.

The Rangerette convulsed as her air was cut off. She thumped on the ground and tears poured from her eyes. Murphy held his dick down her throat for as long as he dare then yanked it out. The hero gasped and coughed. She tried to scream when Pete began to roughly fuck her mouth.

“Gggod damn she has a sweet mouth, shit she is a wild sucking woman!“ While Murphy worked on the Rangerette’s mouth, Harley dug out his hard cock and with no restraint, drove it deep into the heroine’s pussy.

The Rangerette shrieked in agony between sucking. “Hell yea Harley…fuck her good!” Smith had his eyes closed…he was in bliss and didn’t see the blood. He was her first…the one thing she had saved for the one special man in her future was gone.

Now the Rangerette sobbed. She had come face to face with death, wild animals, and every manner of thug. But the one special thing she cherished was torn from her. Smith didn’t care. He thrust in and out as deep as he could. Each stab ripped her sensitive hymen more and more.

“Shit…she is fucking tight…but she is getting wet, getting easier now.”

The Lone Rangerette’s body betrayed her. The feeling of a man deep in her body caused her cunt to naturally get moist. She tried her best but the more she got angry, the more she felt total loss.

Zeke stood near Tonta and began to rub his hand on her crotch. The Indian had been grouped and prodded but no man had taken advantage of her. Now Zeke was hot and sweat poured down his stubble.

Big Jim took Zeke’s knife and slid it between Tonta’s dark skinned tits and began to cut the leather cords which held her top together. “I aint ever had no injun, I killed a couple, but you got some fine tits and I aint in no mod to wait my turn with the masked woman.”

Four cords fell free and Tonta felt her leather vest droop open. The thug pushed the material aside with the knife and gazed at the young indian’s dark breasts. His knife tip poked the sensitive skin of her nipples and he laughed when she cried out. A drop of blood appeared on her nipple.

Jim slid the blade across her skin and poked the other wrinkled protuberance. Tonta again struggled with the ropes and felt one getting lose. Zeke leaned down and began to untie the cords which held Tonta’s small leather skirt and panty.

He turned quickly and smiled hearing Smith roar. “ARGHHH shit I’m cumming!” The Rangerette had two thoughts course through her mind. He was done and would get off her, then the next thought made her shake in terror.

She pulled her head aside so Murphy couldn’t shove his cock in her mouth and she screamed. “NOT INSIDE ME PLEASEEEEE NOOOO!” It was to late, the thug arched his back and ejaculated two weeks worth of stored sperm deep in the hero’s womb.

“Oh damn that was good, shit I haven’t dropped a load like that in ages…sorry bitch... I bet you get pregnant…I already got five kids!“

The Rangerette now thrashed and pulled at her bindings. This just made Murphy laugh and he continued to rape her mouth. As soon as Smith fell aside and crawled to the fire. Horace took his place and he penetrated the heroine.

The Rangerette cried out again from the intrusion. She opened her mouth to scream in pain and anger when she swallowed a blast of hot cum. Murphy held her head in place as he pumped squirt after squirt of cum in her mouth.

The Rangerette had no choice but to either swallow the salty jizz or suffocate. It felt like it would never end. More and more of the ejaculate slithered down her throat.

Finally Murphy stood and laughed out loud. “Fuck yes, that was good, it never stops amazing me how a woman can suck a dick.” Horace didn’t have the staying power of his comrades. His body shook and he looked into the Rangerette’s eyes as he climaxed.

The Rangerette just stared into the night sky. Her body was shaking from the cold and the feeling of cum leaking from her vagina. She slowly turned her head to see Tonta’s legs flopping up and down as Zeke fucked her.

Jim had grabbed Tonta’s pig tail and was kissing her.

Tonta was not a virgin having had her hymen torn while riding a horse. But she had not had a man inside her. The feeling made her eyes gape and she grit her teeth from the burning pain.

She closed her eyes and summoned the strength to work one of her wrists loose.

Murphy was drunk and stood over the Rangerette. He pulled a revolver from his holster and aimed it at the young heroines head. The sound of the hammer being pulled back made her shake, and she closed her eyes waiting for inevitable.

Tonta, her hand freed pulled Zeke’s black powder revolver from his holster. This was going to be tricky. She shot Zeke point blank in the heart. As he fell, she hooked the hammer on his shirt and re-cocked it.

Big Jim fell back gagging as she shot him in the throat. Spinning the gun in her hand she caught the hammer on the bark of the tree and fired again. Her shot hit Horace in the back splitting his spine.

Murphy spun and fired blind hitting Tonta in the left ear. The Lakota Indian ignored the pain, again re-cocked the revolver and shot. The slug hit Murphy in the crotch. The gang leader screamed and dropped his gun. The Rangerette caught it and shot Harley in the stomach.

Tonta freed herself and then her friend. Murphy rolled around in agony, next to him, Horace lay crying. “I cant feel my legs…GOD HELP MEEEEE!” Big Jim made a gurgling noise and slowly died.

The Rangerette re-dressed as best she could in her torn clothes. She looked down at the men who where still alive. “We wont kill you…but we aint saving you, have fun dealing with the wolves and buzzards.”

Both woman mounted horses and rode away.

Ch 3

She relaxed in her hotel until dark when she heard a light tapping on her window. Her friend and partner Tonta had climbed the wall of the hotel and smiled through the dirty window.

The Rangerette slid the window open and helped her in. “Its cold out there kemohsahbee, why race in such weather?” The Rangerette tied her mask on and finished dressing. “It is the coldest time of the year, I don’t know Tonta, did you secure Silver and Brownee somewhere?”

The young maiden smiled and grabbed a blanket. “Yes they are at Manchester Ranch, Buck Manchester said he would tend to them.” The Rangerette swung a leg over the window sill and climbed out. “You stay here, there is some fruit and water in the cupboard, I will be back shortly.”

The heroine easily scaled the wall and landed behind the hotel. She moved quietly behind all the buildings until she reached Jim Randle’s horse stable.

Unknown to her, someone watched with a telescope from a nearby roof. The figure followed the Rangerette’s movements then moved from the roof into the darkness.

Jim Randle sat in his small home drinking hot tea and reading a small gazette type magazine. He didn’t hear the Rangerette enter and walk in behind him. “Mister Randle.”

Jim spun and nearly fell. He saw the woman and sighed. “Ya know ya likely give a man a tizzy and make me dead from fright!” Randle stood and looked the hero over. “Well aint you dressed in your best bib and tucker, I heard of you from Miss Reed, but you is a sight…very dude!”

The Lone Rangerette slightly blushed and looked away. “Mister Randle I’m here for business, not to listen to fancy talk.”

Randle sat again and beckoned the hero to sit. “The race is tomorrow at nine in the morn, Crackshot is the fastest horse in the area, you gonna ride him?”

“No, Tonta will, I will follow on another horse if you can spare one. Randle nodded his head. “Yea you can use Limelight, he is fast and well broke.”

“I will follow the race out of sight Jim…I will make sure it is a fair, no cheating.”

Randle told her of a large growth of bushes outside town where the Rangerette could hide and watch the race as it progressed.

Jim admired the Rangerette’s guns. “I heard of them Colt Walker 40’s and you use silver bullets…wow, you have a big reputation maam.”

The Rangerette smiled, pulled one of the guns and spun it on her finger, then flipped it back in her holster. “They do the job, not the new cartridge type, I prefer ball type ammo.”

Randle smiled and nodded his head. “Well, Miss Reed was right, you are the best person for the job.”

“Have Tonta meet me at my stable behind my house at eight so I can get her and Crackshot ready.”

“Will do, you have a good night Mister Randle.”

As the Rangerette departed, Randle couldn’t help but admire the large firm ass under the stretched cotton pants.

Ch 4

The following morning Tonta quietly walked through the back streets of town. Her sparse outfit would draw enough attention at the race, so she stayed out of sight.

Jim stood in his barn with a large Appaloosa, saddled and waiting. “Hello, you must be Tonta…well here he is Crackshot, the fastest horse in the territory.” The Indian admired the animal and smiled.

“He is a fine horse, I will win for you Mister Randle, I will not fail you.” Randle cupped his hands and gave Tonta a boost onto the saddle. As he did he gazed at the leather skirt which rose up just enough to give him a look at the young brave’s ass.

“The starting line is in front of Wallington Feed store, you better get a move on.”

Tonta kicked the horse with the heels of her moccasin feet and the animal took off in a trot. Randle lightly whistles seeing the young squaw’s ass bounce as she rode off

At the starting line, seven horses awaited the start. All the men stared as Tonta rode up and stopped at the line. “What the fuck is a injun doin in our race?”

Several men yelled comments and one made a motion pointing his finger at her and shooting.

Tonta just sat and glared at the men. “Are you afraid I will win, ya scared?”

Now the men got angry and yanked their horses to the line. “Your on injun, but you better head for the hills when the race is over, you may have an accident.”

The crowd in the street numbered in the hundreds. One man, sat on a beautiful Paint, his name was Mitchell Kidd. Tonta recognized the brand for the Hank Clark ranch. She would watch this rider closely.

The Lone Rangerette sat on Limelight on the outskirts of town. She had pulled the horse into the thicket of bushes Jim had mentioned and awaited the race to start. The town was about half a mile away and she could see the town folk gathering.

Suddenly she heard a whistling noise. It almost sounded like a bird but she could tell it wasn’t, it was human. Concentrating on the noise, the Rangerette didn’t feel Limelight tense then with a massive lunge, the horse jumped onto its hind legs.

The hero flipped backwards over the horses rump and landed with a slam on the hard dirt. She lay stunned. Several footsteps approached and stopped next to her.

Two men and a woman stood over the hero who moaned and stirred. The woman looked at the men and spoke. She aint out, I aint fighting with her!” One man pulled a revolver from his holster, kicked the white hat off the Rangerette and with a powerful swing struck her across the back of her head.

The heroine stopped moving...and was out cold. A small red splotch of blood seeped from her soft blonde hair.

“She’s out now.”

The woman walked towards a small covered wagon in some nearby trees. “Get her, we aint got a lot of time.”

The men grabbed the Rangerette and carried her to the wagon. With a heave, they tossed her in watching her land on a pile of burlap sacks, then they climbed in. The woman pulled off her hood and shook out her long red hair.

Betty Hanson smiled and slowly pulled the Rangerette’s mask off. “I don’t know who she is, she is purty though, ok boys get er naked, I need her clothes.” The men laughed and with glee began to undress the Rangerette.

to be continued