The Lone Rangerette and The Buffalo Soldiers

By

Flexman

This story has sexual situations in it. No one under eighteen should read it. All comments send to Flexman3@hotmail.com

Nevada – 1899

The train consisted of the locomotive, coal car, two coaches and a stable car. One coach had the safe with the money bags and the other had the men guarding the shipment. Inside, Ben Marston, the Pinkerton Agent in charge, sits quietly, smoking his cigar and staring out the window at the landscape. His second in command, Lyle Zimmerman sits down next to him.

“Relax, nothing will go wrong,” Zimmerman tells his friend. “It would be suicide for anyone to try to rob this train. What are you worried about?”

“All I know is they already robbed six trains, just when they happen to be transporting large payrolls and two banks on the day they had large deposits in their safes,” Marston says. “They shoot well, ride even better and plan their jobs perfectly. These are not saddle bums, Lyle. They know what they’re doing. They’ve gotten away with over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars so far and we’re no closer to catching them then when we started. Now here we are transporting over a hundred thousand dollars to California. It’s a tempting target.”

“It’s a secret. No one knows we’re moving this much money,” Zimmerman says.

Marston shakes his head. “All those other trains were supposed to be secrets too. What do you think, they guessed and got lucky six times? I don’t believe in secrets. I’ve never known one to be kept. Men get drunk in saloons and shoot off their mouths, they tell their whores things just to make themselves look important and they tell their wives, who tell their girlfriends, because we both know women can’t keep a secret. Don’t fool yourself; everyone knows what we’re carrying and they all want it. It’s the stuff of dreams.”

“Listen Ben,” Zimmerman says. “Counting you and me, we have fourteen agents on this train all armed with rifles and six guns. That’s fourteen well-armed men guarding the money. I don’t care how tempting it is, they’d be fools to come after this shipment.”

“I hope you’re right Lyle. I just have a bad feeling.”

Nothing happens as the train leaves the flat lands and moves into the rocky passes. It begins a couple of miles just after they came out of the tunnel. The track in front blows up. The engineer sees the explosion and immediately engages the brakes. The abrupt stop causes everyone inside to get thrown around hard.

Marston quickly recovers and yells, “This has to be them! Get ready!”

The left side of the train faces a mountain side. The right is open country with plenty of rocks and trees for cover. The agents get their rifles and setup on the windows of the right side of the car. For a moment nothing happens as the men, rifles ready, wait for the gang to show their faces. Then some bushes in the distance moves aside revealing some sort of machine. For a moment Marston can’t quite make out what it is. He looks through his binoculars and suddenly realizes what he’s seeing.

“Gatling gun!” he screams just as the first volley of .30 caliber rounds rip through the car. The agents hit the floor as bullets chew the coach apart. Shards of glass, wood and metal fly everywhere. It feels like the coach is coming apart. Then the shooting stops and all’s quiet again.

“How many are down?” Marston yells.

“No dead,” Zimmerman replies. “But the men are all hurt. They took hits from all the metal and glass flying around. I think some can still shoot if they come at us, but no way is anyone in shape to go out there.”

Zimmerman cautiously raises his head and looks through his binoculars. He then makes his way to Marston, staying low. “It’s a Gatling alright. I’m not sure but it looks like an 1893 model with a Bruce feeder.”

“Where the hell did they get a Gatling gun?” One of the wounded men asks out loud.

“I don’t know,” replies Marston. “Want to go out and ask them?”

“Hey, something’s happening,” another man says.

Marston and Zimmerman look. They see the engineer and fireman from the locomotive walking toward them. They have their hands high up in the air and they’re yelling at the coach not to shoot them. They make it to the entrance and come aboard. Once inside, they’re shocked to see the agents on the floor bleeding and in pain. They slowly make their way, careful not to step on anyone. The engineer hands Marston a letter one of the robbers gave him.

“We saw five of them, but, I don’t know, there could be more,” the engineer reports.

Marston opens the letter. It reads: We could have killed you all, but we aimed high. If anyone tries to leave the car or stick their head up, we’ll aim lower and kill everyone. Marston shows the letter to Zimmerman.

“We have two men in the safe car and it’s locked tighter then a virgin on her confirmation.” Another explosion rocks the train, again knocking everyone around.

“Not anymore,” Marston comments.

They blow open the safe car, disarm and tied up the two agents inside. Another of the robbers opened up the stable car and unloaded the horses. The money bags are loaded on these horses and the robbers take off.

We look like fools, Marston thinking to himself. They got away with a hundred-thousand dollars. They wore bags over their faces with hole cut out for the eyes so we don’t know what they look like, just like they did on all the other jobs. They took our horses, so we can’t go after them and even if we could, most of the men are in no condition to ride. Dam, how the hell were we supposed to know they’d have a Gatling gun? He looks at the engineer standing next to him. “Can we get this train moving?”

The engineer shrugs. “We can’t go forward: the tracks are too badly damaged. We can move backwards, but it’s about a hundred and twenty miles back. The safe car has been damaged pretty badly and the coach has been shot up just as bad. I’m not too comfortable moving backward with them attached.”

“When is the next train due?”

“Not till tomorrow afternoon.”

Zimmerman comes back. “They left the Gatling gun behind, but they took all the ammunition and jammed it so it won’t fire. They left nothing else.”

“Makes sense, the Gatling gun would have slowed them down. Besides they don’t need it anymore. By the time we can get help and go after them, they and the money will be long gone”

“Riders coming,” one of the other men yells.

Marston and Zimmerman go look. Two riders are coming. They approach the train. Marston and the rest of the men are shock to see they’re both women. Even stranger is how they look. One woman is tall, more than six feet, with a magnificent body. She has sun bleached blond hair, braided. Her gray shirt does all it can to contain her generous breasts, tapered down to a slim waist that has a black leather double rig with ivory handled, silver plated revolvers. Her gray pants were tight enough to show long slender legs. Fine tooled black boots, white hat and red bandana around her neck completed her outfit, but what grabs everyone’s attention is the black mask she wears on her face.

The other woman, obviously an Indian squaw, is also very attractive. Her long black hair is double braided. She wears a leather vest tied over her ample breasts, a long loincloth going down to mid-thigh; knee high moccasins up her hard, well-shaped legs. She has only one six shooter and an Indian knife in a scabbard.

“What happen?” the masked woman asks.

“Who are you?” Marston asks back.

“I’m the Lone Rangerette and this is Tonta.”

Both Marston and Zimmerman had heard of the Lone Rangerette, but they never believed she existed. They both thought it was some silly legend drunken cowhands made up, like the white buffalo. Now here she is and nobody knows what to make of it.

“A Gatling gun was stolen from the Army armory about two weeks ago,” the Rangerette went on. “I guess we now know what happen to it.”

“I have wounded men. Can you ride to Pinewood and tell the sheriff to send help?”

“Do you have a portable telegraph?”

“Yeah,” the engineer answers. “But they cut the line.”

“Let us have it. There’s another line ten miles from here, we’ll hook it up and telegraph the Sheriff. The message will get there faster than we will,” the Rangerette suggests. “Then we’ll go after robbers.”

“Now hold on a minute, little lady. These men are dangerous and they have you outnumbered. Best you wait for the army or the Marshals to get here and let them handle this.”

The Rangerette shakes her head. “It will be sometime before the army can send some cavalry. By then this gang can be in Mexico or California. You’ll never find them. Right now they only have a couple of hours lead on us. Tonta and I will catch up to them. When we get close enough; we’ll shadow them and first chance we get, we’ll let you know where they’re heading.”

The engineer hands them the portable telegraph. The two women ride off.

“What do you think,” asks Zimmerman.

“You’re kidding, right? I just hope they send the message before they get themselves killed.”

There are five of them. They all have several things in common. Up until the beginning of the year they were all soldier; troopers of the US Tenth Cavalry Regiment and they all just returned from Cuba, where they charged up Kettle and San Juan Hills.

Amos Reeves, former first sergeant, is the leader. He’d been in the cavalry for twenty-six years. A big man who had fought Apaches in West Texas and Arizona and Cree in the Dakota country. Last year he fought the Spaniards in Cuba.

Sam Early had also been in the cavalry for twenty-four years. He made it to line sergeant and had also fought Indians in Texas, Arizona and in the Dakotas. As with the rest of them he got out just after returning from Cuba.

George Mason and his brother Henry had both been in the Cavalry only twenty years. They had both been corporals and considered two of the finest scouts the US Cavalry ever had.

Emmett Carlton, also a line sergeant, fought in well over a dozen engagements and even more skirmishes in his twenty-four years in the Cavalry. He got a medal for valor in Cuba. He had also been considered one of the finest blacksmith and gunsmith in the US Cavalry. He knows more about mechanical engineering and ballistics than most West Point engineers and knows more about horses than most veterinarians.

They all just fought in what has become known as the Spanish-American War. When it was done, they were all disillusioned. Throughout their years in the Cavalry, they all silently suffered many hardships and indignities, but San Juan Hill was the last straw. They charged up both hills, fought valiantly and lost many friends, yet they never received any recognition, they were not even mentioned. To read the Hearst newspapers or listen to the reporters, Teddy Roosevelt and his Rough Riders were the only ones involved in the whole battle. No mention of the Tenth Regiment was ever made, like they were never even there. That was the final indignity. The problem was what to do now. It was Reeves who proposed that they put all the skills they had learn in the Cavalry to a more profitable use.

They arrived at the predetermined spot, where they changed their clothes and burned what they had worn during the robbery, including the masks. They would then head for Greenwood Canyon to get the rest of the money from the earlier robberies. George Mason would lead the horses they stole from the train in a different direction to create a false trail. Meanwhile his brother Henry would hang back as a sort of rear guard scout to see if there was anyone following them. All five of the men were armed with Colt .44 revolvers and Mauser Model 93 rifles they confiscated from the enemy in Cuba. They were far superior then the Krag the army had issued them.

Two days later in Greenwood Canyon

They camped out near the trail leading in to the Canyon; George Mason shows up two hours later.

“I took care of the horses,” George reports. “The trail I laid should fool them and take them in the opposite direction into Wyoming. I fixed it so they’ll find one of the horses we took from the train every few miles. That should make them think they’re on the right trail. Any sign of Henry?”

“No. He should have been here by now,” Reeves responds.

“You think something happened? Maybe I should go look for him.”

“We’ll give him a couple more hours,” Reeves says looking at his pocket watch.

“Wait,” Early says, as he looks through his binocular. “I see someone.”

Henry Mason arrives and dismounts. George hands him a cup of coffee.

“Riders been trailing us since we left the train,” Henry reports. “They’re maybe four hours behind us.”

“How many?” asks Reeves.

“Just two and one of them is an Indian; that’s how they been able to follow our tracks, and get this, they’re both women.”

“Women?”

“Strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” Henry reports. “The white woman has bright hair, almost like shinny gold. She’s dressed like a man, has a double rig with silver plated pistols, and get this; she’s wearing a black mask.”

Reeves stares at him a moment. “And you say the other woman’s a squaw?”

“Yeah, Comanche I think and she’s also armed.”

“Comanche, this far west?” Early asks.

“I don’t believe it,” Reeves smiles. “You know who that is? The Lone Rangerette.”

“What are you talking about?” asks Carlton. “I thought that was a fool story made up by some dime store novels back east. There’s no such thing as a woman who tracks down outlaws.”

“Well, apparently there is, and she’s after us.”

“There’s something else,” Henry says. “I got a close look at them and they have a portable telegraph kit with them.”

“Dam, that means they’ve already told the law where we’re at,” Early says.

“No, I don’t think so,” Carlton responds. “If they’ve been trailing us, then the only telegraph lines they would have come across were the one by the train tracks and the ones a few miles from where we hit the train and we cut both of them. Since then, there wouldn’t have been any lines for them to hook up to. So no, I don’t think they’ve had a chance to tell anyone where we’re at.”

“Where is the nearest telegraph line?”

“From here, about three miles south.”

“So they don’t even have to take us on,” comments Reeves. “All they got to do is once they catch up to us and are certain where we’re at, they’ll go south and wire the nearest sheriff’s office.” Reeves turns to Henry. “Are you sure they didn’t see you?”

Henry Mason shows a pained look on his face. “Amos, I’m hurt. When do you remember anyone ever seeing me when I didn’t want them to?”

“Not even the Indian?” Early asks.

“Sam, George and I have been fooling Indians for twenty years. Believe me, they didn’t see me.”

“Ok, so that means they don’t know we’re on to them,” Reeves says. “We got to get them before they get near a telegraph line and give us away.”

“There’s a pass about an hour’s ride from here,” Henry reports. “They’ll have to go through it. It’s lovely ground for an ambush.”

“Yeah, I saw it too,” adds George. “We can set up on the rocks above the road and pick them off before they even hear the shots.”

Reeves remain silent as he stares at the trail they came from. “What’s wrong?” Early asks.

“Shooting down women, especially from afar, don’t sit right with me,” Reeves answers.

For a moment no one spoke. Finally, Early speaks up. “If the stories I heard are true, then that Lone Rangerette is supposed to be good with her six guns. If we try to get close to them and she pulls on us, then we’d have to kill them anyway. The difference is that way they might be able to take some of us with them.”

“Then we better do it right and not give them a chance to pull on us,” Reeves answers.

“What do you have in mind?” asks George Mason.

Reeves smiles. “Let them get closer.”

The Lone Rangertte and Tonta approach the canyon entrance and see the abandoned camp site. Tonta examines the extinguished fire and the tracks leading away from the camp site.

“Two hours, maybe less, Kimo Sabe,” Tonta reports. “The tracks go into the canyon.”

“We’re close; good,” the Lone Rangerette says. “You were right; the tracks heading north is a false trail; a very good one too. It’ll fool a posse or a cavalry troop. We’re dealing with a gang that knows what they’re doing.”

“Yes,” agrees Tonta. “They may have an Indian with them.”

The two heroines moved into the valley. They ride maybe fifteen minutes when the trail takes them through woodlands. Another half a mile they see a colored man walk out of the woods to the middle of the trail, stop and face them. The colored man is tall, with a thick barrel chest, wide shoulders and big powerful arms. He appears to be in his mid-forties, his short black hair just starting to show some gray and he has a chin hugging beard. The two heroines approach him cautiously. They stop just in front of him.

“Hey boy,” the Rangerette says. “You’ve seen about five riders come by this way; no more than an hour or two ago.”

“Why yes ma’am,” Reeves answers. “Cept, they didn’t ride by; they all around you pointing…what do you call them things…bolt action rifles at you, and I even saw a buffalo gun, too.”

The Lone Rangette and Tonta look at each other. “They done told me to come out here and tell you something,” Reeves continues. “They say if you run, they shot down your horses, causes they are bigger targets that you two. Then when you go down, they’ll pick you two off.”

The two women look around and see nothing. “You sure boy?” the Lone Rangerette asks.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Reeves answers. “I was prospecting for gold, minding my own business, when these five mean looking white men come along. They done stole my mule and supplies and took me prisoner. I didn’t know why they had to steal from me since they already have so much money, but they did.”

“You say they have a lot of money?”

“Yes, Ma’am, saddle bags full. I almost fainted. That’s more money then I done seen in my whole life. I didn’t even know there was that much money in the whole world.”

“It’s them Tonta.” The Rangerette looks around. “You know where they’re at right now?”

“Yes Ma’am, they’re up on that ridge behind them rocks.”

“I don’t see them. If he’s right they have us boxed in. We got to get behind cover. You better come along boy; they might kill you if they don’t think they have any more need for you.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

They rode behind some tall rocks on the opposite side of the ridge, quickly dismounted and drew their rifles. Reeves got behind the two women. The Rangerette and Tonta cautiously scanned the high rocks for any sign of the gang. “I think I see something,” Tonta says. They completely ignored Reeves who stood close behind them. Reeves reaches back with both hands and draws two pistols tucked in his back waist. He aims the pistols at the back of the two heroines’ heads and cocks them.

“You move and I’ll blow your heads off.”

Both heroines slowly turn their heads to see not only Reeves pointing his guns at their heads but the Mason brothers also standing there with their guns aimed at them as well. The Rangerette couldn’t believe that the Masons manage to sneak up behind them.

“Drop the rifles now!” Reeves ordered. The heroines did not see any choice but to do as he ordered.

The outlaws have a secluded cabin in a corner of the canyon. They disarm the heroines; put them on two of their horse while Carlton and Early ride Silver and Scout. Both horse objected to strange riders but Carlton knows how to get them to do what he wants. He’s been training horses all his life, so it doesn’t take him long to get them to obey his commands. This surprises the two heroines. They had never seen anyone other than themselves get Silver and Scout to do what they wanted. The Masons made sure they left no trail for any posse to follow. They put the horse in a makeshift stable with enough food and water and they all go inside. They tied the heroines up and removed their boots and socks so even if they got loose they won’t get far. Then Reeves removes the Rangerette’s mask over her loud objections.

“Anyone recognize her?” Reeves asks. No one did, she didn’t seem to be famous or even well known.

“I don’t get it; why do you wear a mask?” Early asks the Rangerette.

“You wouldn’t understand boy,” the Rangette answers. “When does the boss show up?”

“The boss?”

“Yeah, the man running this show. When does he arrive?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Who planned these jobs? Who led you when you did the robberies?”

“What makes you think there’s someone else?”

“Come on, everyone knows that coons don’t have the intelligence to plan and carry out these type of robberies. You boys would have gotten caught first time you tried. It’s obvious that you are being led by a smart white man. Sooner or later he’ll show to get his share of the money.”

The five troopers stare at the two heroines. Then Early looks at Reeves and whispers. “This whore is really stupid. I’ve taken this shit from snot nose second lieutenants and civilians all my life, but I’m not taking this shit from her.”

“She keeps calling us boys,” Carlton adds to the conversation. “Maybe it’s time we show her how grown up we are.”

“I bet golden child here has never even seen a colored man without his clothes on before,” adds Henry Mason. “Should be a real eye opener for her.”

“What about the squaw?” Reeves asks.

“Just like old times,” answers Early.

In the Cavalry, it was not considered practical for enlisted to take a wife. The forts were not ideal locations to raise a family and the enlisted life was too harsh for women. For colored troopers to even look at a white woman, like an officer’s daughter or wife, was considered dangerous if not suicidal and there were very few colored women ever came through the forts. That left only squaws or Mexican women for the troopers to have female companionship. Through the years the men have had many Indian squaws. To them Tonta looked good, the Rangerette looked even better and she was asking for it. They all felt insulted by this white woman’s words; time to put her in her place.

They begin taking the heroines’ clothes off. The Lone Rangerette protests. “Don’t you boys dare! We’re virtuous women not your typical black whores. They’ll hang you from the nearest tree for touching me,” she screams at them. It has no impact on the five men. Ten powerful arms have no trouble stripping both women of every stich of clothes they have on. Even the Rangerette’s bloomers comes off easily, until both women sit against the wall completely naked. The Rangerette sits in a ball trying to cover up her privates.

Reeves grabs the Rangerette. Carlton secures her ankles to keep her from kicking. The Rangerette cannot believe how firm and unbreakable their grips are. It’s like he’s been a blacksmith his whole life.

“I swear; you will not get away with this outrage! I will hunt you down. I will hunt you all down like the mongrel dogs you are,” the Rangerette screams.

Meanwhile the Mason brothers go after Tonta. She struggles hard but the more she kicks and tries to resist the more the Masons like it. They are all experts at what has come to be called Indian wrestling; a style of fighting developed by various Indian tribes in the plains. They originally learned the style from Indian scouts. Tonta is no stranger to this form of fighting. As a young maiden she was taught to wrestle other squaws naked, but she could not believe how good these two brothers are; they knew all the moves and some she didn’t. The brothers carry the struggling squaw in to the other room.

Reeves puts the Rangerette face up over the table by the fireplace. Carleton smeared some wet soap on her vagina to make slippery, then reaches for her tits with both hands. Years of blacksmithing had made his hands rough. He pinched her left nipple, while his other hand hoisted her right tit. She winced as he twisted her left nipple painfully. The look on his face shows he is clearly impressed with the Rangerette’s large tits. Carlton then massages and manipulates her left nipple enthusiastically, all the while pinching, twisting and kneading her right nipple. He works his right hand to caress and squeeze the whole titty. The nipples become hard as stone.

“Ooooh! Stop that you bastard!”

The Lone Rangerette cannot get away from the two men holding her; their combined grip is so powerful. Her humiliation is overwhelming. Being touched in her intimate places by coloreds, they are ruining her for any proper white man. If this is ever discovered no decent, self -respecting white man would ever have anything to do with her again; she would be shunned. Her only future would be as an old maiden or a common whore. Then she realized something really awful is happening; she is feeling intense heat in her loins as a result of Carlton’s manipulation of her tits. Also she could feel her maidenhood becoming moist and a strong tingling sensation in her private region.

“Stop!” She pleaded. “You can’t do this to me. Have you no decency?”

“Not at the moment,” replied Carlton.

“I’ll show you my decency,” Reeves says. He put his huge hand on her face, forcing her mouth to open. He shoves his massive cock in her mouth. At first the Rangerette chokes on his massive member, but quickly gets the rhythm of his pump, as her tongue is forced to caress his cock. At about the same time Carlton rubs the head of his cock against her pussy lips, up and down, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up. His hand is now playing with her clit as the Rangerette’s pussy generates a lot of heat and begins to quiver. Finally, he inserts his cock in her pussy, a little at a time, until his full shaft is in. He pumps, again slowly at first, then faster and faster. The Rangerette responds despite herself. Her breast and clit swells and her breathing, through her nose, becomes faster, unable to get enough air to cool her overheating loins and belly. She tenses up as her back arches. Her first orgasm hits her just a minute before Reeves shoots off in her mouth. Afterward Carlton shoots off in her pussy, he withdraws feeling really good. Best poke he’s ever had. The Rangerette is in a daze and limp. The fight has left her. Early now gets his turn. He takes down his riding breeches, lifts the Rangerette’s long legs up and puts her calves on his broad shoulders. He inserts his long cock in to her slick pussy and begins long strokes in and out of her hole. His endurance is extraordinary as the Rangerette moans over and over. Carlton gets the mood again and walks to her head. The Rangerette’s head is hanging over the edge of the table. He opens her mouth and inserts his newly reharden penis in it. He starts sawing with her tongue rubbing the top of his cock. Reeves, meanwhile, starts sucking on her tits. She cries out and attempts to struggle but, again, she is no match for the conquering troopers. Soon, she is reduced to shaking her head no, her long blond hair whipping around, and trying to push them away desperately. She can’t budge them.

After what seems an hour, Early shoots his wade in to the Rangerette. During Early’s time pumping away the Rangerette orgasmed twice accompanied with loud screams of pleasure. Reeves then takes his place between her legs and get his turn at her leaking pussy. His endurance is even longer than the other two. He goes on for what seems like an hour. The Rangerette’s mouth is not done either as Early now gets his cock cleaned. On and on it goes as the Rangerette gets hit with one orgasm after the other, until the men are spent.

The Rangerette lays there on the table completely limp and barely conscious. The three men are feeling good. They stand over her triumphantly. Early lifts up her head by her long blond hair.

“I guess she is not so high and mighty now, is she?”

“The fight is all out of her,” remarks Carlton. “Doesn’t look like she wants anymore trouble.”

“Boys, I still feel the urge. I’m not satisfied,” Reeves says.

“Haven’t you had enough?” Early asks.

“Yeah, and like anyone whose had enough, I want more. Look, this wouldn’t be happening to her if she kept her big mouth shut. She chose to insult us.”

“So, we go for another round?” asks Carlton.

“No,” says Reeves. “I want something different. We still haven’t tried her backside.”

“Yeah,” smiles Early. “I haven’t had any black hole in a long while.”

The Rangerette wants to object, but her mouth is too full of cum and can’t get the words out. Reeves and Carlton again take hold of her ankles and shoulders, lift her off the table and turn her over, so she is face down again. Early puts a pile of rages under her hips to elevate her butt so as it’s pointing up. Again, Carlton rubs soapy water on her, this time on her butt hole. Reeves goes first. He places the head of his member, still slick from when it penetrated her fuck hole and slowly inserts it in, until it’s all the way in to the hilt. The Rangerette’s eyes look like they will pop out of her head as she screams. Early slips his hand underneath her body and plays with her still engorged clit and Carlton goes to work grouping her firm tits, while Reeves begins his in and out motion in her helpless back hole. The Rangerette has never experienced anything like it. The pain is so intense, but so is the pleasure she feels under Early and Carlton’s skillful manipulation of her clit and tits. The Rangerette painful climax hit her long before Reeves finished and shoots a huge amount of jizz up her ass.

Early goes next. Carlton replaces him on clit duty. Reeves does not feel like playing with her tits and just leans against the wall watching. Again the Rangerette screams and moans as Early bangs away at her black hole. He especially enjoys the tightness of the previously virgin hole and the Rangerette’s pleads for him to stop. It makes him go faster and faster. This time he shoots off before the Rangerette can climax. Finally, Carlton take his place behind the Rangerette’s ass.

“Please no more, I beg you,” the Rangerette screams.

“Sorry Blondie,” Carlton says. “We coons aren’t smart enough to follow simply instruction.” He then starts his run at the Rangerette’s asshole. He pumps as hard as Early. The Rangerette has never experienced such pain. She finally passes out a few minutes later. Carlton keeps going, oblivious to the unconscious woman under him, until he too shoots his wad.

The Masons rope tie Tonta face up to another small table in the other room. The table is only long enough to accommodate her from her shoulders to her lower back. Her head, ass and legs hang over the opposite edges of the table. The brothers inspect Tonta’s nude, bronze, luscious full body; her huge perfectly round tits, with her wide, dark chocolate colored nipples. Her thick black bush, muscular legs and taunt waist. They like it; she’s one of the most beautiful squaws they’ve ever seen. They both get immediate hard erections.

George positions himself between Tonta’s legs. He spreads her thighs wide and begins massaging first her inner thighs, slowly working his way to her cunt. He knows how to touch her pussy lips and inflating clit to get the desired results. Meanwhile Henry goes to work on her firm silky smooth breasts, also massaging both sacks and working his way to her ever expanding and hardening nipples. Tonta wants to resist but she has never experience men with deft touches. These men know how to touch her in ways that make her lose control of her body. She gets hot all over, from her cheeks to her feet. Her breathing speeds up, as her chest moves up and down. The brothers take it to the next level, as Henry takes one of her nipples in to his mouth, skillfully using his tongue and teeth. He alternates between nipples every few minutes. George puts the head of his cock against her pussy lips and clit, rubbing them, as he had with dozens of squaws and Mexican women through the years. They both know how to get the results they are after. Tonta’s loins are on fire and she becomes wetter than she has ever been before. Her moans are loud, with the occasional yelp when Henry uses his teeth. Soon, in spite of herself, she is pushing against George’s cock, longing for him to insert it in her maidenhood. George does not disappoint as he takes hold of Tonta’s tight ass and lifts her, positioning his cock at the entrance and inserts it in her tight waiting hole. Slowly at first, bit by bit it goes in, until it fills Tonta up. Then he begins increasing the tempo faster and faster. Tonta can’t get enough, needing more and more. At that moment Henry makes his presents felt, as he grabs Tonta’s hanging head and inserts his cock in Tonta mouth. Henry know how to do it without getting Tonta to gage. He lets Tonta’s velvet tongue smoothly caress his huge stem in her mouth.

Tonta loses track of time as the brothers seesaw her for what seems like forever. Her first climax hits her long before the brothers are done. She experiences two more shortly after and it drives her crazy. In the other room, she can hear the Lone Rangerette’s screams, but is completely oblivious to them as she is lost in her own hot sensations. When done, she lays there, her mind completely addled, drenched in sweat, still laboring to breath. The brothers look down on her.

“She is the best I ever had,” comments George.

“She is good, but Lolita in that Mexican whore house in Texas might have been as good, if not a little better.”

“You’re sure judgmental.”

Henry shrugs. “It don’t cost anything. Ready to go again?”

“Sure.”

Now Henry lifted Tonta’s legs on to his shoulders, position his cock in her hole and starts pumping away at her already well lubed cunt. This time he is able to ram the full length of his cock all the way in immediately, as his ball bounce off of her ass cheeks. As Henry enjoys Tonta’s pussy, George mounts Tonta’s midsection and takes hold of her generous tits. He massages and manipulates them for a several minutes, rubs the head of his cock on each inflated nipple and then slides his cock in to the valley between them, pinches the nipples and starts to titty fuck her. It doesn’t take long for Tonta’s to heat up again, since she hasn’t really cooled downed from her last fucking. Again Tonta is being driven out of her mind. With no cock in her mouth like last time, there nothing to muffle the loud moans and frequent screams of intense pleasure that emanates from her. Tonta orgasms hits her too soon as far as she was concern. Fortunately for her, neither brother shoots off. They have a grand finish in mind for this squaw.

They pick up her limp body. George puts his arms under Tonta’s shoulders, with his hands engulfing her tits. Henry lifts his end by Tonta’s Legs and puts his groin in front of her pussy. George had already lubed his cock beforehand and now places it against the crack of Tonta’s ass. On que, both brothers insert their cocks in their respective holes and begin their new seesaw. Tonta’s ass is virgin; she has never experience this before. The combination of both pain and pleasure at the same time is overwhelming. When her last orgasm hits her, it is the most intense. She screams and passes out cold.

With both women unconscious, cum leaking from all three orifices’ respectively, the men tie them up again and go about their business.

In the morning:

The Masons take positions at various points in the valley as look outs. Carlton feeds, brushes and waters the horses. Reeves divided up the money. Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, five ways, equals seventy-thousand a piece. He packs the individual shares in their respective saddle bags. The Rangerette and Tonta are put in the water trough, where Early, bare chested, washes them both using a bath towel. When they are both scrubbed clean, he towels them dry and dresses them. Tonta is given back her thong, loin cloth, vest and moccasins. The Rangerette gets her boots back, but the rest of her is dressed in rags.

After they eat breakfast, Carlton saddles the horses and they’re on their way. Carlton again rides Silver and Early rides Scout. Their destination is San Francisco. Over the next several days they ride until dark and camp out. The men again sate their lust on the two women, passing them around between all them. Over the days the women have lost all resistant and have become resigned to their fate.

Upon arriving in San Francisco the first order of business is to sell the women to one of the high end brothels, but Tonta convinces the Masons to let her go with them. They agree. Unfortunately, Tonta is unable to do anything for her friend. The Rangerette is sold to Madam Eugenia’s exclusive club for gentlemen, San Francisco’s premier brothel. Madam Eugenia is delighted; she knows her clientele and is convinced the tall goldilocks will make her a fortune. The Rangerette is resigned. This all that she is now fit for after being repeating ravaged by members of a lower race.

Epilogue:

The Masons, along with Tonta, make their way to Canada. They buy land north of Calgary and start a cattle and horse ranch. Their ranch grows and they prosper. Tonta eventually marries George and has two sons. Henry finds a woman to marry and has two sons and a daughter.

Emmett Carlton also goes north to Canada. He settles in Winnipeg and opens a gunsmith shop. In addition to doing repairs, he retails all the usual brands of the day; Colt, Smith and Wesson, Remington and the rest. He also sells custom guns he makes by hand. The expensive pieces are prized by their owners for their quality and craftsmanship. He soon starts taking numerous special orders for clients. A year later, he opens a blacksmith shop that also becomes successful. Carlton sponsors the railroad and real estate, eventually making himself a millionaire.

Amos Reeves and Joe Early take a ship south and ending up in Argentina where they raise cattle in Las Pampas. They eventually get in to wheat farming as well. They excel in both and prosper beyond their ambitions.

The most interesting case is the Lone Rangerette. She works as a prostitute and dancer for Madam Eugenia for almost two years. When Madam Eugenia succumbs to an undiagnosed and untreated case of syphilis, the Rangerette takes over the brothel and club and quickly takes Madam Eugenia’s place as the provider of premier gentlemen’s entertainment in San Francisco. She prospers and eventually takes her place in San Francisco’s society. She survives the earthquake of 1906 to rebuild the club and retires in 1927. She never marries but over the years her wealth allowed her to enjoy plenty of special relationships with both male and female companions of white, black and oriental persuasions.

The legend of the Lone Rangerette continues in dime store novels and campfire tales, well in to the thirties, when Republic Studios makes a movie series about her. It bombs in the box office and that ended the legend for good. No one ever believed she was real.

THE END