Chapter 3

Marshall Hardison was ready to make a courtesy call at the jailhouse to let the sheriff know he was in town and would be here for some time to investigate some complaints about land-grabbing and general extortion of honest citizens. The reports indicated the activities of Sheriff "Bat" Younger were under a great deal of suspicion but no evidence to point in his direction. It seemed like whenever a witness turned up, they tended to disappear in a hurry.

The first thing He took into account after arriving at the jail was the sound of sobbing filtering down from the living quarters above. The steady slap, slap, slap of heavy hands hitting solid meat signaled him that some female was getting what for most likely on her rump. The Marshall figured it was none of his business. Generally, these things were a two way street and not suitable for meddling into.

The grunting moans that followed confirmed this was more a form of foreplay than some variety of punishment for unruly females.

Sheriff Bat Younger was laughing as he stomped down the stairs. The ex-schoolteacher was prime ass-fucking material and he just could not get enough of her pretty bottom.

Hardison saw the Sheriff move his hand instinctively to his hip as soon as he was aware of a stranger in the office. Unfortunately, his gun belt was slung across the back of his chair. It was a mistake that Hardison would never have made himself. It was the kind of mistake that could lead to an early final visit to Boothill.

"You got business here, stranger?"

"Morning, Sheriff, my name is T.S. Hardison. U.S. Marshall Hardison. I will be over at the hotel for a couple of weeks to take care of some business in these parts. I wanted to let you know who I was and where I was staying to prevent any misunderstanding."

"Mighty nice of you, Marshall, if you need help with anything, just let me know. I am always happy to assist a fellow peace officer.

Just at that moment, a disheveled looking Miss Lily, ex-schoolteacher slut walked gingerly down the stairs. She was taking very little steps to avoid causing discomfort to her reddened ass cheeks and probably still gaping pucker hole. Her face reddened up a little when she saw the look on the Marshall's face. Lily realized the stranger had guessed what Bat had just done to her on the bed upstairs. She still had the grace to feel embarrassment for her lover's kinky sex habits.

"This is my little lady, Miss Lily. She is my special deputy for entertainment. This little lady can be real entertaining and that is God's honest truth."

The Marshall saw Bat cup his hand possessively on Miss Lily's ass cheek. He saw Miss Lily's eyes water up just a little bit and realized that the girl was not a cheap dancehall floozy but more likely a good girl fallen under the influence of an evil man. He had seen many girls of good character come west and revert to the base instincts of immorality. It was simply a question of survival in a man's world.

He was also aware that when Sheriff Bat tired of her goodies and she was not longer attractive to him, he would cast her away like a piece of buffalo dung. Then, she would be only a footstep from being a dancehall slut. Her price would slowly fall from a dollar to only a single quarter. She would deteriorate into the standard two-bit western whore at the end of the line.

The Marshall felt sympathy for the pretty little girl, but it was none of his business. He had learned a long time ago never to meddle in business not of his own making.

Miss Lily was mortified.

She could put up with the most depraved demands on her body by the kinky Sheriff, but to be made a public spectacle of was just too humiliating.

She was disgusted with her own weakness in thrilling from the punishment he inflicted on her poor bottom. She dreaded the huge cock invading her tiny pucker hole night after night. Her problem was that once Bat's long cock was seated deep inside her shapely rump, she loved the feeling of being filled, the enthusiasm of intensity, the sense of doing something so filthy, she didn't even want to talk about it. The way he groaned out his pleasure every time he hit bottom in her ass. Even now she could hear the sound of the squishy suction as he pushed in and pulled out.

She loved to be able to scream out her dirty thoughts as his creamy cum flooded her rectum. She wanted to feel the release of her own fluids as she furiously rubbed her own clit each and every time. It was so addictive that Miss Lily knew even if Bat was gone from her side; she would search out another male with a long cock to keep her back door opening well exercised.

The Marshall went back to the hotel.

Theresa had told him she would be making him a special dinner tonight. He wondered if it involved the placement of her pretty ankles around his neck.

The sound of the train whistle broke through the still morning air.

Blackie stopped cleaning his guns and checked his watch. For the first time in a long while, the eastbound train was on time. This was the day the widow Primgrass was due to return to Tombstone.

He pulled on his leather boots and spun both cylinders on his colts before he headed to the train station platform. He had some unfinished business with the widow.

The smoke plume was drifting over Main Street when Blackie reached the platform. There was only a family of sodbusters heading back east. Probably, they chucked it in after the long summer drought. The daughter, a pretty thing of about 18 kept twisting her hair and giving him a sideways look like she had a real itch between her legs. Since they were leaving, it didn't seem like it would be worthwhile to give the girl a tumble and he was waiting on Mrs. Primgrass. Mrs. Agatha Primgrass to be specific, the bereaved widow of the recently departed editor of the local newspaper.

Blackie recalled the soft feel of her haunches rubbing hard into his groin as she left town only a few short days ago.

There she was!

Agatha Primgrass was still wearing the standard black garb of mourning widows. She had deleted most of the frills such as gloves and veil. The widow was also sporting under her widow's garb the most sexy of lacy pink undies and absolutely no corset to speak of. She reveled in her hidden expression of sexual freedom.

The widow was a bit more comfortable with her ability to attract men after her horny brother-in-law had taken advantage of her privacy while her sister was depositing Agatha's son, Chester, in the local school. The feel of the older man's whiskers on her pussy made her gush with female juices in a very short time. She returned the favor by sucking his cock into her ready mouth for a memorable oral pleasuring. The taste of his creamy cum was a welcome pleasure to her. Her departed husband did not abide by any sexual activities other than required cleaving on Saturday nights to be properly prepared for the Sunday good book.

Her brother-in-law, giddy with the draining of his juices with her suctioning mouth, confided in her that her sister never would open her mouth for anything except food or drink or yelling at him when he displeased her. She allowed him to push a couple of his fingers into her poop hole because he lamented her sister would never tolerate such treatment and he was desperate to wiggle his fingers in "A lady's secret place."