Chapter 5

It turned out that I had managed to impregnate not only the Colonel’s daughter but the two sisters of the Mormon shopkeeper as well.

Suddenly, from being totally footloose and free as a bird, I was the prospective father to three newly arriving babies (assuming there were no multiple births) and would be responsible for the welfare and tending of three nubile females all wanting my cock for their exclusive use. I knew that the monogamous route was not possible, so I professed to follow the Mormon teachings and we arranged for us all to settle down just outside Indian Territory as a separate Mormon sect that adhered more to the God of hedonism rather than the true Almighty up on high.

As it turned out, my partner in carnal delights, the widow Mason had the benefit of being the first wife because she had the first claim on my cock in the sense of longevity. As it turned out she had a pair of twins, both girls and we named them Amy and Alice. There was no sentiment involved; it just seemed nice to have them both with names that started with the same letter because they were identical twins and just like two peas in a pod.

My pair of Mormon sisters was so different from each other that it was like they were not related at all. The oldest sister was a widow of a gold prospector murdered up in the gold fields for his poke and his supplies. The longevity of the claim owners was notoriously short because of all the criminal elements trying to make their fortune the easy way by stealing it from the hard-working miners searching for the yellow dust. Her name was Clementine and she was a sweet-smelling package of sheer feminine delight from the neck down but her face was not one that most men would look twice at because she was constantly frowning and turning up her nose in a disdainful attitude for the opposite gender.

Clementine gave birth to a large boned baby boy that we called Adam sticking still with the “A” in naming our brood. Adam was a vociferous baby always signaling his need for a wet tit at all times of the day or night. Sometimes, the juicy Mrs. Mason would give him a nipple because even with twins she always had plenty to spare when poor Clementine was dry at night.

Last, but not least, my Martha, the younger sister and by, far and away, the brightest was the new mom of a bouncing baby boy we decided to call Alexander because we were still on the “A” kick with the naming of offspring.

If my equipment was still in working order the following year, we could switch to “B” and go on from there. It helped to keep things organized and I was terrible with names when all was said and done.

Martha and Clementine’s daddy gifted me his thick black leather belt with the instructions that both girls needed to be “strapped” every night just to remind them of their vow of obedience. I thought that sounded a bit harsh, but in all honesty, my Clementine was one of those females that quite enjoyed having her hindquarters reddened whenever she got down on all fours and assumed the position she liked the best for humping even though it certainly didn’t look very ladylike no matter which way you looked at it.

Fortunately, the widow Mason was able hide her growing belly until after I got my discharge papers from the Sergeant Major at Parade at the end of the month and we made a hasty retreat from the fort before the Colonel could suspect we were considering a path other than the military. Apparently, they were sending another two troops of Cavalry to join his command and he suspected that he might be getting a star to put on his shoulder because of the added responsibility. I was one of the few troopers that actually refused to re-enlist because most of the men liked the security of getting their living arrangements all organized and getting three good meals each day like clockwork and getting cold hard cash at the end of the month even if it wasn’t a bonanza.

I started getting in the habit of carrying around a book of Mormon with me wherever we traveled and I knew it gave me the look of being a sort of itinerant preacher with no real church surrounding me and only my declaration of being a Mormon to give me substance to other neighbors.

As soon as the widow Mason and I joined up with the Mormon sisters Martha and Clementine, we headed to the edge of Mormon territory to blend in with the true faithful. The girls knew enough of the day-to-day mumbo-jumbo about the sect to keep Mrs. Mason and me saying the right words and acting the way we would be expected to act if we were sort of loners on the edge of their geographic influence. In fact, Martha told me that the church elders were planning to establish a new country that would stretch all the way from Salt Lake City way out to the Pacific Ocean and right up the Canadian border before the new nation of the United States could set up new states to claim the territory. They had done sort of deal with the Spanish land grant people to lay claim to a lot of California to be a part of the Mormon country envisioned by Brigham Young.

Clementine had a stash of real gold nuggets that her deceased husband had sent to her from his claim along the American River in the foothills near Sacramento way out in California. It was a place where the claim jumpers and the banditos were the law and she was certain that her husband’s killers were never to be caught. In fact, there was probably nobody even looking for them because murder was a common occurrence by back-shooters with no name.

We started building a cabin to take the place of the tent we had scrounged up from the supply sergeant when we left the fort. There was me, my three new “wives” and the four babies along with the two Indian whores from the trading post called “Night Noises and Rains Between Legs”.

They also brought along their “cousin” Black Pony who carried a Henry rifle and was a better shot than any of us. The Indian camp didn’t want him because he had a problem with wanting the white man’s “firewater” a mite too much and he was too friendly with the renegade Apaches that were constantly jumping the reservation. He had gotten turned down for a scout job with the Regiment because of his damaged left foot that was permanently mangled from a buffalo stampede that swept right across his night camp out in Indian Territory.