Chapter 4

When the sun came up in the morning, they could see the smoke still rising from the remains of the wagon train. The scent of death reached them even though they were quite a distance away hidden in the dense thicket inside the tree-line. The three men were all smiles this morning including the Kid who had made quite an impression on Nana and Baby Girl.

She was justifiably guilty from her own conduct the night before and had trouble meeting the eyes of the stagecoach driver and the guard. They had both proven quite satisfactory following up the Kid's efforts to bring her to swift orgasm. Angelique had done her best to keep from making the silly squeals and giggles that the other two women were proficient in emitting. Of course, all three men knew she was hiding her pleasure from the way she sprayed them all with her female juices each time they hit her special spot.

The guilt-ridden nun followed the two fancy women, Nana and Baby Girl to the babbling stream that ran between the trees directly behind them. They all washed the smell of the nasty men off their bodies and the two women looked at the petite nun with a sense of pity because they could tell she had not had much experience in such matters.

No mention was made of the desperate orgy the night before when they were all doubtful they would ever see another sunrise. The Kid came up behind her when she was putting on her robes and the other two women just scurried away to leave them to themselves. He nuzzled her bare neck and the area just behind her ear where she had a nerve that seemed connected to her female slit and made her wet without delay. The touch of his hard erection on her still bare flank made her bend over docilely waiting for him to take his pleasure in whichever hole he was a mind to invade.

The Kid slid into her slit like a sharp knife cutting butter. She melted in his arms and shuddered in that sense that an orgasm was fast approaching. Angelique was a lot more relaxed away from the others because there were no witnesses to her depraved desires. In fact, she even allowed her delinquent mouth to give voice to her kinky nature hoping that the Kid might even move his cock to her heated crack and test the tightness of her pretty pucker. The sounds in the forest were silent in her ears and all she could hear was the rapid beating of her heart telling her that the time of orgasm was finally arrived.

It hit her with a rush and she held on to the Kid for dear life not wanting to fall to the molding leaves on the ground. When he withdrew, she could see those same leaves being sprinkled with his white cream that oozed out of her female opening no matter how hard she tried to keep it all inside.

The driver who looked considerably more respectable after a good wash and a shave padded softly back into the thicket with unusually silent feet for such a big man. She remembered how he had reached her special spot with little difficulty even better than the Kid and once again she failed to make eye contact because of her terrible conscience.

"It looks like it is all over back there. I didn't cut any sign of the hostiles staying behind and except for the smoke nothing is moving down there."

Angelique knew that didn't bode well for the poor souls down in the midst of the chaos of the clashing confrontation between Indian and settler and most likely meant that everyone who was not taken away for a life of slavery was laying in the dust minus their scalp and perhaps even additional mutilation depending on the amount of booze the Indians had drunk before they went on the warpath. Most of the tribes were fairly well-behaved now and had adapted to the life of boring reservation living but the young hot-heads were constantly jumping the reservation for some slight either real or imagined. They were making it difficult for the mainstream of the Indians to live peacefully without the constant fear of conflict and reprisals from aggrieved victims.

Since her heavy black robes were too stifling hot for the desert sun, she took the offer from the younger girl of the use of one of her more conservative female dresses with the hem almost touching the tops of her black leather shoes. She decided to avoid the heavy underclothing that she normally wore because of the same reason and suddenly the breeze and the scent of flowers in the air made her feel much younger and enthusiastic for what would come next. The others didn't comment on her relegation of the religious garb to the steel reinforced chest on top of the stagecoach. The driver whose name was "Curly" brought her a cup of cool water from the water bag and she thanked him for his thoughtfulness. It was difficult to understand how he could be called Curly because he was almost bald on top even though he was only in his late twenties. She had wanted to run her hands over the top of his head when he was giving it to her but hesitated to do so because it might make it seem that she wanted a closer relationship and that would totally inappropriate for a nun who had already taken her final vows.

They slowly retraced their trail up to the rise overlooking the scene of the battle and saw the terrible scene in all its gory detail down below them. It was still fairly early in the morning so they just waited another couple of hours to make certain the hostiles were a long ways away and then brought the stagecoach down to get a closer look at the mayhem.

The Kid and Curly left the stagecoach stay back a decent distance so the womenfolk could not see the gory details up close and personal. Even at an estimated hundred feet from the edge of the bodies, the putrid scent of evil incarnate rose into the unfeeling glare of the merciless sun.

There was no sense or logic to the inhumanity and Sister Angelique averted her eyes and concentrated on her prayers for the souls of the tormented creatures dispatched without a speck of respite for their comfort. The flies were already settling in for an obscene feast on human flesh. The buzzards were wheeling overhead and it was certain to draw other scavengers both four-legged and two-legged to the scene of the tragedy. Since there were too many to bury in the hard ground, they skedaddled out of there as quickly as possible hoping to put some distance between them and the hostiles who had created the chaos.

Their arrival at the Fort was pretty much ignored by one and all because it was just another dusty stagecoach coming inside for the safety of its walls. The fact that the Indians were on the warpath was sort of a commonplace occurrence in this part of the Great Plains and not seen as a matter of concern unless they managed to mount an offensive with sufficient number to be a serious threat.