Episode 2: Posse Whipped

Waking up at the crack of dawn was never easy. The mountain air chilly but refreshing helped. Especially when your attic apartment had no furnace to warm up by. Merely a space heater on the floor. One that Stacy Puma rarely used for fear of catching her happy home on fire. Sleeping under multiple blankets including a large beaver fur comforter that was passed down from her great grandmother when she left this world it kept her warm. It gave her history meaning. Her Apache heritage meant a lot to her. Yet, the modern ways of the white man consumed her. She could live without possessions, but it was nice to have. The fur was so warm and cozy Stacy hated getting out of bed.

She knew she had too, committed to her three-mile run each morning. Sometimes she would be accompanied by her brother Griffin when his job with the police department allowed it. She never knew when he would join her though. Being a local police officer kept him busy. Between that and his lily white-ass girlfriend Bree Barrett. For the most part Stacy was on her own.

It was a rough life though. Her apartment above her brother’s old barn was tiny but heartfelt. Decorated with tribal memories and photos on the wall of her family in better times. She loved her parents, but they were rarely around as she grew up. Alcoholics both, they spent most of their off time drunk and high. She managed to avoid that curse. However, she liked the occasional cigarette to relax by. With no real income she chose to make a single pack last two weeks. One week ago, she brought home $200 from her first online show. That helped her habit. A carton bought would last her a month or more.

Food essential but again, she rarely ate much anyway. Growing up with parents that blew their hard-earned cash on themselves taught her to survive without. That favor helped her maintain her body weight. She loved her body, especially her piercings which she opted to put back in yesterday. Both nipples having realistic looking arrows shot through them made her laugh. From her belly button dangled a knife and tomahawk that she herself made. Her heritage as important as it was to her persona she loved to promote. She wanted to get her clit pierced when her money allowed it. Personalized image important to her, she knew she had to share her wild side more to attract a loyal fanbase. No more, Little Miss Nice Squaw! Stacy Puma was on a mission. Some might call it destructive; she called it life.

A nude sleeper she finally crawled from bed to vividly stretch. Opening up her only window let the fresh air revive her. She would smoke her morning cigarette from her hay bale door which propped wide. Nothing fancy she had a clothes line rope to draw it closed once done sending up smoke signals.

With every aspect of her actions she often made fun of herself using her native family traits. Her exhibitionist tendencies led her down a back staircase on the outside of the barn, the only real entrance. Her brother had fashioned an outdoor shower for her. Water running from the house. It was a cold reminder of her less than thrilling life. Standing beneath a frigid rain she shivered and closed her eyes. Cleansing her spirit was something she learned from her great grandfather. That and the shrill native cry of “HOLY SHIT!”

Washing away her past life, she dried off and pinched her arrow impaled nipples good morning. She loved exciting herself. Griffin’s house was to her left yet out of direct view of her shower. He had put up a curtain, but the winds kept knocking it down. Finally, she convinced him to let the world see. She loved her freedom. Although a cop he could have objected to her indecent exposure but he allowed it. He loved his baby sister.

The one thing he didn’t agree with was a wide-open toilet. He built a shower curtain fence around it and gave it a roof in case of rain or snow. During the winter he would allow her the use of the home he and Bree lived in. Sure, she could use those facilities anytime she wanted. But Stacy needed independence. Only during the cold months would she agree to shower in the house.

Within the proverbial outhouse he built a basin. However, it was a large bowl. She would have to fill her bowl from the shower using a plastic pitcher so that she could wash her hands or brush her teeth. A tiny handheld mirror hung upside down over the basin. As she brushed her teeth, she motivated herself for her morning run. At least the cigarette taste was gone. Stepping from her outhouse Stacy smelled coffee. Turning to her left she found her source.

“Morning Streaker.”

“Hey, Squaw Cur!” Squawker! “Griffin going running this morning?”

Her brother’s girlfriend was a stunning redhead with lily white skin. Her shoulder length red hair remained curly and full while brilliant green eyes sparkled at all times. Bree had a reasonably nice body but nothing compared to Stacy’s. Long freckled legs and a meager 32C set of tits was her weakness. Boney booty, the Puma’s called her. She had brought Stacy a mug of freshly brewed Folgers.

“Not this time. He had to cover a late shift so he needed sleep. Coffee?”

“Thanks, Paleface.” Claiming the steaming mug, she sipped then blew into it to cool the brew down.

“I’ll never get used to your hatred of clothing.”

“In time. I love my freedom. Besides, we don’t have any neighbors behind the property.”

“Not behind. But we do beside us. You do know Kahane watches you when he’s home.”

Kahane Bridges was an elder African American male. The hero was discharged from the Army back in the 90’s when he lost his legs due to a mortar attack in Afghanistan. He lived the quiet life, resorted to tooling around in a wheelchair. He was harmless.

“If it gives him a thrill, I’m all for it. He’s a sweetheart.” Stacy shrugged with a coy smile.

“Anyway!” Bree merely shook her head. “What’s on your agenda today? Job hunting?”

“Most likely. I’ve shot out a dozen online job applications in the last three days. Nobody wants me. Well, they want me, want me.”

“Ego much?” Bree smirked! “You are beautiful, I can understand why. They need to see you in person. I never had faith in faceless applications.”

“Right. I’ll head into the city later and shake my booty. I just need to get my morning run in first. Thanks for the coffee, Creamer.” She razzed the redhead for her milky white flesh. Bree was used to her put downs. They were never ending. In a sense Stacy was a Jekyll and Hyde case. One minute she was sweet and caring, the next Little Miss Bad ass attitude who always portrayed herself as better than everyone around her.

“Any time. I’m off Dispatch today. Need a ride?”

Stacy offered an expression of deep thought while puckering her lips. “No. I plan on being out all day. Determination!” Shaking her head again Bree grinned at her future sister-in-law. She knew the girl well enough to see mischief in her eyes.

“Okay. Good luck!” Bree whirled in step and wiggled back to her home.

“They’ll need it.”

Stacy called out as she headed up the wooden stairwell to finish her coffee. The empty mug was left on her TV tray end table beside a beige loveseat. Going to her small three drawer dresser to choose what to wear she decided upon a pair of extremely short skintight grey cotton shorts. Those shorts were so high on her thighs that they revealed her ass cheeks in all of their curvaceous freedom. They were so tight they crept up inside her butt cheeks leaving a sweet shadow that would stop traffic for a better look.

Swearing off panties she had a cameltoe that smiled hello to everyone and a thick clitoris that looked like a tongue wagging. Combined with her hidden pubic hair she called the imagery her Clittycat. Puma’s had to stick together.

Loving her firm tummy, she wore a matching grey tank style bra. It was made of cotton t-shirt and held up by micro thin shoulder straps. Her chest was made to bounce and pounce. Firmness didn’t bother her a bit. Let the girl’s dance. Her pain threshold was so advanced that even after a three-mile run her chest barely ached. No pain, no gain! Pink striped gym socks reached her kneecaps. Pink tennis shoes her final touch. For an Apache warrior she did like girly things. A Denver Broncos ballcap turned backwards on her head finished off her attire.