Western Tail

It had been a hot and dusty ride from Kansas into Colorado en route to my new posting as the postal agent and sutler at Fort Hayden. I'd ridden all day with the Rocky Mountains tantalizingly near without having reached the river they told me was still more than a day's ride out from the fort. I now saw the river ahead, cool and inviting, but I knew I wasn't going to make Fort Hayden today. So, I rode down the side of the river for a couple of hours, thinking about one more night on the trail and about how hot, dusty, and smelly I'd gotten.

The river beckoned to me—clean and clear and shallow enough to be safe. At last I gave in, deciding to camp out for the night at a place where the land gently slanted down to a quiet section of the river well away from the central current. There was a small grove of cottonwood trees to one side and smooth rock outcroppings to another side, where I could lay my clothes out to dry.

I tied my horse to a tree in the cottonwood grove and laid out some food and water for him. I set up camp at the edge of the grove and laid my rifle up against a tree there. My saddle had gotten pretty smelly, so I scrubbed that down good and dropped it in the sun between the rocks and the grove to dry. Next I stripped off all my clothes, scrubbed them real well, and stretched them out on the rock cropping to dry. After that, it was my turn. I dove into the river and luxuriated in the cool, clean water rolling over my body. I splashed around a good bit and did some hoopin and hollarin out here in the world all by myself and eventually stood and walked up out of the water until it just reached my knees. It was time to get serious. I took up the bar of lye soap I'd used on the clothes and then soaped myself up real well. I felt so good when I got to my cock and balls that I did some extra soaping there and pulled on my rod for a few minutes, enjoying the moment of freedom after weeks in the saddle as well as surfacing fond memories of my romp in the sack with that cowboy in Abilene that night not long ago.

I heard an unfamiliar horse whinnying, and I froze solid. There, fanned out before me between the rocks and the cottonwood grove was a small band of Indians riding fine-looking horses bareback. I have no idea how long they'd been watching me, but they'd had the drop on me for some time.

There were five of them, all young bucks—any one of them with enough muscle to easily handle me. Besides that, the one who evidently was the leader, a particularly impressive looking bronzed specimen, was holding a bead on me with a rifle. The other four strapping bucks had bows and arrows at various stages of readiness.

They weren't wearing paint, so at least they didn't appear to be on the warpath about anything. In fact, they weren't wearing much of anything beyond loincloths, moccasins, and thin beaded bands with leather fringe at the top of their bulging biceps and calves. The apparent leader, though, was also wearing a breastplate made of feathers and turquoise beads held together with silver wire. My immediate assessment was that they were a hunting party that had been attracted by my foolish cavorting in the river. That didn't mean that they weren't hunting for me. I'd been told to be on the lookout for small bands of renegade Indians in these parts ready to pick off the lone white man. And there couldn't be a more lone and naked white man around than me at this moment.

I held my arms out wide in supplication (which may have been a mistake considering what happened soon thereafter) and slowly walked up the shore, sidling a bit toward the cottonwood grove and my rifle.

The leader of the tribe raised his rifle a bit and gave me a look that told me in no uncertain terms that it wouldn't be a good idea to go for my gun. I was a little surprised that he was grinning at me, but then so were the other four. I soon found out why they were doing that.

The leader slipped off his horse and halved the distance between him and me in long, deliberate strides. One of the others in the band rode up close to him, and the leader handed off his rifle. Then he pulled strings at the hips of his loin cloth and the scanty covering fell to the ground. Oh God, was my first thought. It had just been my luck to have run across a band of Indians that swung in my direction. My second thought was that this Indian, at least, swung real well. He had a cock and set of balls that equaled or surpassed his other collection of well-tone muscles. And my third thought was that he must have really enjoyed my unintentioned performance with the soap, because his horse-hung cock was standing straight out.

Unfortunately for me, he was such a fine specimen of manflesh that my cock reacted in similar fashion to the situation.

Before I could have a fourth thought, the tribe leader was at me like a pouncing cat. While he moved, the other four Indians came off their horses and gathered around fairly close to us in a semicircle. The Indian leader wrapped a hand around my neck and brought my face to his in a liplock that showed me he did a lot of this. The other hand went to vice-like grip around my balls and the base of my cock that brought tears to my eyes and me to my knees in front of him just as soon as his lips and tongue released mine. This put me at a convenient level for him to stuff his hard cock between my lips, which he proceeded to do.

He was face-fucking me real well, when I managed to look around and notice that the four others had paired off and were fingering each other in shared excitement. This meant no one had the drop on me with anything but a hard and pumping penis at the moment, and I realized I might have reached the closest point to escape and survival that I ever was going to get. I knew I couldn't get to my own rifle or horse in time, but the Indian leader's horse, a gorgeous big golden palomino stallion, was standing unattended within striking distance.

So, I seized the moment and made a break for the stallion. Miraculously, I was on the horse's back and getting him to start into a trot before the Indians recovered. But then my luck ended. The Indian leader merely whistled, and the horse stopped in its tracks. I thought I was dead now, that they'd just pull me off the horse and rip me to shreds. But the Indian leader did something completely unexpected. He leaped up on the horse behind me, yelled something the horse understood, and we were off, two naked men on the back of a quivering horse, thundering across the plain beside the river. The Indian was wedged behind me. He grabbed my wrists and forced my hands into the flowing mane of the horse, where I wrapped my fingers in the white mane and held on for dear life. The Indian's beaded breastplate was digging into my shoulder blades, and his raging hard was rubbing up and down the small of my back as we were tossed and turned in the charge across the rolling countryside.

I was scared, but that rubbing dick of his and the whole wildness of the situation was turning me on, too. We hadn't ridden far before he made his move. His thighs had been just behind mine, with both of us hanging on to the horse as best we could with them. But in one swift, dexterous move, he took those powerful thighs of his and lifted them around and in front of mine and flipped me forward onto the neck of the horse. This tilted my pelvis up as well, and I screamed in fear and then in surprise and pain as I felt his cock head slide down the small of my back. It held briefly at my asshole as a much too-large a peg came into a much too small a hole. And then the rough rolling of the horse's gait solved the Indian's problem, and with one excruciatingly painful lunge, he had breached my asshole and split me in two with his ramrod, which just kept on screwing up into me as the motion of the horse's gallop naturally stroked his cock and my ass canal together.

I screamed into the wind and struggled against the powerful embrace of the Indian chieftain as we thundered on. With the aid of the motion, he was pumping me deep with the natural interaction of our bodies.

I realized not only that I was aiding the wild fuck myself with my struggling but also, after the shock of being taken started to wear off, that I now was enjoying this incredible invasion of my body. In addition, I realized and that, once fucked, there wasn't much else for me to do but make the best of the situation. The trembling of my body started to decrease, I slowly stopped struggling against what was happening to me, and I started going with the motion of the horse's gait and the rhythm of fuck it created.

This submission to the inevitable—and suddenly quite pleasurable—must have been what the bronze hunk had been waiting for, because as I quieted down and my body started to go with the rhythm, the horse started to slow down, until we finally were standing still, beside the river, not that far from where we'd started. The Indian's body was covering mine closely from behind, and the pattern and depth of my breathing was beginning to come into synch with his. His cock was still buried deep inside me, but he slowly decreased the thrusting of his hips so that he wasn't pumping me anymore. He still held my wrists in his steeling grasp, and I still had my fingers wrapped in the white hair of the golden palomino stallion's mane. The horse was breathing hard from the wildness of the gallop, but it responded instantaneously to the Indian's indecipherable verbal commands. It now stood very still, it's strong legs rigid, and it remained so until the bronze stud commanded it to move again.

It dawned on me then and this was what this ride had been all about. The Indian chieftain was training me the same way he had trained his horse. He rode me until I got tired and acknowledged that he was in command. I wondered what was next, still afraid for my life, but I decided that my only chance was to calm down and go with his wishes and wants. I had to pretend that I enjoyed being fucked by him. I had to admit to myself, though, that I did enjoy being fucked by him, so it wasn't a case really of pretending. Not only did he have a fat, long cock, but he had a strong, virile thrust to his stroking, and there was nothing more exotic than being fucked by a hunky bronze savage. It was more a case of showing and convincing him that I had been successfully broken to his will.

His lips were in the hollow of my neck, and I turned my head and sought them out with my own lips. He smiled and looked very satisfied as he pushed my lips open with his and put his tongue to work. I responded fully.

I heard him give a sigh and then a grunt of approval, and he released my wrists and, quick as a cat, with the horse holding still and solid, he had changed his position on the horse in relationship to me. He now was in front of me, between me and the horse's neck, and had pushed my shoulders down onto the withers of the horse. We were pelvis to pelvis and dick to dick now. He took my hands and had me wrap them around both dicks and stroke them together. I complied, fully cooperating with him. He massaged my chest and pinched and gently twisted my nipples into full erection as I stroked us both. He was thicker and long than I was, but we were both engorging further in response to my stroking.

When he was satisfied I was fully broken to his will, he pushed my hands away and started stroking me vigorously himself with one hand, while he fingered my asshole with his other one. When I shot my load, he cupped his hand over the head of my cock, capturing my amazingly prodigious production of cum, and I watched as he rubbed the cum over his cock and down into my hole. I found this an unbelievable turn-on, and when he then cupped his strong hands under my butt cheeks, lifted my hips off the horse, and looked at me expectedly, I correctly interpreted his unspoken command and took his cock in my hands and guided it into my asshole.

The ultimate surrender, and with a yell of joy that reverberated in the red-rock cliffs in the near distance, he crushed my hips into my pelvis, sending his cock deep inside me, and vigorously pumped my hips against him with his strong hands, fucking me deep and wildly. The horse held perfectly still, trembling ever so slightly under us, as I lifted my legs to the Indian hunk's shoulders and lowered my arms to the horse's side, holding them close against the warm silky hair of the horse's hindquarters, holding myself as still and steady as possible.

The Indian's heavy spouting at the center of me was accompanied by another one of his healthy-lungs yells, which no doubt told the rest of his tribe nearby both that he had had his way with me and that we'd soon return to them.

And, indeed, soon thereafter, we were riding back into my impromptu camp, the bronze stud once again riding close behind me, his dong well up into my ass canal, making sure I wasn't planning yet another escape attempt.

He needn't have worried, because his vigorous fuck had worn me out, psychologically as well as physically. I still feared what the Indians were ultimately going to do with me, but I was so broken now that, whatever it was, I hoped they'd do it soon and get it over with.

The four remaining tribesmen had been entertaining themselves with themselves while we were gone and they were in quite a fucking frenzy. If I'd entertained any thought that I was going to be reserved goods for chieftain, I was quickly disabused of that notion. When we reached the encampment, I simply was pushed off the horse into the waiting arms of the tribesman who seemed to be the second in command. He was older than the youthful tribal chief, and thinner and more sinewy. But his cock was longer than that of the chief, which meant it was quite long indeed. He simply grabbed me by my upper arms and pushed me back against the slow-rising rock formation where my now-dry clothes were stretched out to dry. He grabbed me by the neck and banged my head down on the rock, the blow being cushioned by my dried shirt, but taking any fight I might have give out of me just the same. His other hand folded one of my legs up against my body between my chest and his. He then positioned his cock, which he just slid up into me to the end and fucked me vigorously to his ejaculation.

I was then handed off to the youngest and bulkiest of the tribesmen, who had the thickest cock of all. He pulled me off the rock and twirled me around to the area between the rocks and the grove. He pushed me down into the sand right beside and across my saddle. My pelvis was elevated on the saddle, with my cock rubbing into the leather. My butt was pointed at the sky. The young hulk then crouched down behind and above me, forced his thick dick into my hole, and fucked me in fast, hard downward strokes. I screamed for him, although I was feeling strangely quite fine to be stretched and pumped in this way, and the Indian chieftain put a stop to the noise by working his knees under my chest and pushing his cock back between my lips and deep throating me.

The young Indian was quite virile, because he loaded right up again after his first round of cuming inside me and fucked me a second time, this time rotating his rod inside me with his hand to stretch me even wider the second time around.

The remaining two of the tribe were allowed to take me together. One laid flat on the ground and the second pushed my asshole down onto his rod, which, thankfully, was a normal size. Then the Indian chief stood and watched with a big grin on his face, while two braves got on each side of me, each with a grip on one of my wrists and ankles and spread-eagled me. The remaining tribesman, who also thankfully didn't have a monster cock, then rolled my hips up and entered me, his cock running in along the top of the rod of the brave porking me from below. The two of them didn't even bother to coordinate their rhythm of the double fucking them were giving me, but they both were so excited about the exoticness of the scenario that they both came rather quickly.

When the tribe was finished with me, the Indian chief sat close to me astride his magnificent stallion and pointed his rifle at my bruised and collapsed body, as the rest of the tribe members milled around my meager goods, looking, quite unsuccessfully for any souvenir of their adventure that might interest them.

Very quickly, though, the chieftain issued a stern command and the braves donned their loincloths and jumped onto their horses.

I knew we were at the moment of decision. The rifle lowered, looking to my eyes, to be centering more on me. I closed my eyes and something hit me in the chest. But, when I opened my eyes, the tribe was galloping into the distance and I didn't think I had any bullet holes in me. I looked down and saw that the Indian leader had gifted me with his feather- and turquoise-beaded breastplate, which I'm sure was about the only thing he owned in the world other than his horse. I had been gang banged, but I couldn't say I hadn't enjoyed it. And the bronze hunk had obviously enjoyed me too. I had to admit that this was a welcome to the West that I hadn't exactly anticipated.