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PART I: The Lady & the Cowboy/Ambush at Lost River Canyon
Lady Isadora Lindsay-Hogg, distinguished photojournalist for a major European news service, scion of a prestigious British family, and all-around "bon vivant", peered into the LCD display of her Canon EOS 20D digital SLR camera, one of many tools blondes blacks videos with which she plied her trade, at the brightly-colored barrel cactus flower, using her considerable photographic experience to compose an aesthetically-pleasing shot. She was on the open prairie of Northwestern New Mexico, U.S.A., and trying to decide exactly how much she was actually annoyed by, rather than possibly attracted to, her host here on this particular leg of her long-awaited working vacation.
That would be the slightly middle-aged, tall drink of water, with faintly-graying dark blonde hair, rather insolent grin, and blue eyes that matched the color of his faded Levis, complete with chambray work shirt, requisite dusty cowboy boots and dark Stetson dog dick in pussy hat - one Dan Wakefield, a.k.a. "Cowboy Dan", as he'd first introduced himself to her. "Just call me that, everyone here who knows me, does.", he'd claimed in an ingratiating manner as she had arrived on his property, the Devil's Gate Ranch*, just outside of the little one-horse town named, charmingly enough, Arroyo Diablo**, about a half-hour due west of Gallup. She'd been referred to him through the local branch of the state tourism office, as a life-long pretty women expert on the local flora, fauna, and natural rock formations, from which she'd hoped to acquire enough fresh nature photographs to replenish her portfolio.
The unyielding desert sun beat down on her now, in her casual fatigue clothing, reminding her of the far distant, dangerous place she'd just recently returned from, hoping to find some solace from the horrors of a brutal foreign war in more pleasurable pursuits. Still, it didn't take very long for Cowboy Dan's too-modest, "aw, shucks" routine to wear thong girls a bit thin, making her wonder if he was as laid-back as his manner indicated - if he, in effect, was an actual, trish stratus nude true, old-fashioned cowboy, here at the dawn of the 21st century, as he put on? My God - the man even wore a Western movie-style holster, complete with a Colt "six-shooter" - how droll, if it hadn't been for the plethora of firearms & other weapons she'd come to loathe after her just-ended stint in the Middle East! He just couldn't be for real? And yet teen pussy - was it his pretentiousness or lack of same that she somehow found so intriguing?
He stood over her, watching with casual interest as she tried to assess the photogenic quality of the cactus. After a moment's silence...
"I never did see anyone who approached the subject of takin' pictures of desert plants with such seriousness - you must be as naked men good as they say?"
"I get paid well for my work, Sunshine - let's just leave it at that." She informed him a bit testily.
"Okay, that's good enough for me! Just kinda' noodle around with an old Kodak Instamatic myself these days, takin' snapshots n' such. Never got the hang of those fancier cameras, those digital jobs, and all them bells n' whistles ... "
"I'm sure that's quite interesting, that must amuse them down at the OK Corral, or wherever it is that you spend your free time, cowboy - "
"Dan - just call me 'Cowboy Dan', everyone around here that knows me - "
"Yes, I know - 'everyone here calls you that'! Well, I'll call you whatever I like, and what you are to me at present, is just a distraction, I'm trying to work here, and you 're in my light, as well!"
Isadora glanced up at him from intense dark eyes with a withering look that normally shriveled men's privates, but Cowboy Dan just kept looking at her calmly, placidly, as if he was cock-sure of his innocence in any offense that she might have imagined of him. Which, of course, only annoyed her all the more. Seeing him standing there, casual as you please, right beside his trusty horse Trigger - no, actually, his name was "Cal", if you could believe it, a rather handsome paint palomino with platinum-blonde mane and tail, wearing a intricately-tooled Western-style saddle and bridle. Even he regarded her with little more than passing interest. Completing the trio was a rather friendly German shepherd introduced to her earlier as Shadow.
"Okay, fine college girls stripping with me! Didn't mean no harm, just nude celebrity thought maybe you could use oriental babes a little polite conversation - I beautiful women know when to clam up!"
Somewhat pacified, she returned her attention to the cactus flower and, after adjusting the white balance for the bright desert sunlight, snapped a tight butts few frames and then straightened up to leave.
"Isadora - ain't that an I-talian name? And - you're English, right?"
"Cowboy Dan - isn't that a kiddie TV-show name?" she muttered under her breath, before retorting, "Actually, I'm British, not just 'English', but that's a rather long story ... "
"I was just gonna' tell you, about some nice saugaro cactus - or, is it cacti - over yonder by the southern fence-line - yucca, too - that I thought you might be interested in, if you really wanted more pictures of them - "
"Would you please? I can find my own way over there, no need to tag along, I wouldn't want to keep you from punching some cows, 'riding the lower forty', or something similar? I'm sure you must have more important things to do, than just to keep me company!"
She hopped into her rented SUV, stowed her camera lesbian babes gear in the back, and started the vehicle, wheeling off towards the direction fat tits he'd indicated, leaving the laconic Yank and his horse in her dust, glad to be alone with her thoughts once again. Just what was it about him that she was allowing to get under her skin in such a manner? Usually, it took a bit longer - say, an hour or so - for her to take a dislike to someone new; he was one of those rare exceptions to the rule. Or - was it really annoyance after all, and not something else instead?
Roaring down the ranch's main road, Isadora calmed down a bit, until she reached the approximate area where he'd indicated, and found a number of the proffered desert plants waiting for her, in varying shapes and sizes. Parking the vehicle, she got out with her gear, and proceeded to asian tits set the camera up on a tripod, in order to get a series of exposures. Not long after she had accomplished this, as she was bending over the viewfinder again, she thought she heard the sound of approaching hoof-beats, and an all-too-familiar shadow of a horse & rider fell onto the ground beside her. Not daring to look up, she knew whom she'd find waiting there, just as leisurely as he'd been before, from almost two miles away now. Sighing, she gave into temptation, and glanced behind her.
Cowboy Dan, the Marlboro Man, smiling just as calmly as you please, seated on Cal the Wonder Horse, watching her again from only ten feet away, along with his trusty canine companion Shadow.
"Made good time, I see! Does he fly, like Pegasus?", she quipped, trying to keep her irritation girls finger themselves reined in.
"Pega-whosis? Cal? Shoot, no' M'am, he's just good at what he does, which is being a good range horse, he can cover a mile of open flat-land in just under six minutes, not even at full gallop!" He paused before continuing. "Hope I'm not in your light here?"
"No, Cowboy Dan - you're not 'in my light', here, but you are most certainly getting on my nerves, instead! Why do you American men always have a terrible time grasping the obvious - and, no, I'm not playing 'hard to get', here! I've just come back from an especially hellish war-zone created by your people, and having barely survived it, I'm here strictly on vacation, to pursue some leisure activities before re-entering the 'real world' once again! And, I'd like to enjoy this time to myself alone, if you don't mind?"
"I hear you there, lady - white pussy I've done my tour of duty, as a soldier in Uncle Sam's Army, as well! I was over in 'the Big Muddy', in 'Nam, '71 - '74, left just before the fall of Saigon. An Luc, Nha Trang, Dien Bien Phu, the Mekong Delta - I was 'in country' so long as a youngster, I'd seen things that'd curl your short-hairs, they would!"
"Trust me on this, cowboy - this isn't the same kind of conflict, different territory, fresh new horrors as well! You Yanks never learn from history, do you? You keep repeating the same mistakes over, and over - all for the sake of a cheaper gallon of gasoline, this time nude babes around! Backfired, though - didn't it?"
"Well, boy, howdy! You're a opinionated gal, I can see that! I like a woman who speaks her mind!"
Isadora rolled her dark brown eyes at this, thinking it not worthy of a response, then attempted to return to her subject. After a few moments, she thought she saw a strange, circular shadow on the ground, growing ever closer - just right before she felt a sudden tightness about her shapely torso, just taut enough to jerk her backwards a little, away from her camera. She glanced down, to see - a cheerleaders in the shower rope! A lasso-noose, of all things, that the damned man had adroitly thrown around her, right from his horse! She felt him tug gently but firmly upon his end of it, bringing her about to face him, as he hopped down out of his saddle, and calmly approached her.
"What you need to do is relax a little, you're wound way too tight - take it easy, and slow, like we do out here! I can tell by looking at a woman, what she really likes, deep down inside! I could show you some real rope tricks, some fun n' games, if you'd just co-operate a little - "
He tried to bring her distinctive face, with its' angular good looks, close to his. Furious, the Irish in her blood boiling, she managed to free her right hand in order to slap him senseless - all the while, trying hard to fight off the undeniably-erotic sensation of nonconsensual bondage.
"Why, you presumptuous, cheeky bastard!! How dare you!!"
But, before she could strike him, he quickly and firmly grabbed her wrist, holding it motionless, while he stepped back and tipped his hat apologetically at her.
"Hold on, there, Honey! Sorry - thought you were sendin' out different smoke signals is all! No harm done - just foolin' a little with you, alright?
"Well-said, you cowboy dunce! It quite obviously takes a fool, to try a stupid, juvenile stunt like that! Now, if you'll just get this rope off of me, I'll try to remember not to press sexual harassment charges against you with your local sheriff, or whomever passes for competent law enforcement in this rural backwater!"
Quick as she could say this, he flicked his wrist upward, slackening the lasso just enough to flip it off of her, and then coiled down by his side. Trying her best to hide her flushed complexion, she straightened up, recouping her dignity, and hastened to pack up her gear.
"Since I've obviously outstayed my welcome to your little spread, here - would you be so kind hairless pussy as to point me in the direction of the Lost River Canyon? I was told that there were some unusually-picturesque rock formations and outcroppings that just beg to be photographed, and I'd hot teen girls like to get to them before nightfall."
She waited, as he resumed his almost lackadaisical former attitude.
"Sure thing, Ms. Great Briton. You just follow this here road you came in on until you reach the main state highway, follow that west apiece until you come to the sign sayin' 'Lost River Canyon nude lesbians exit". Turn off onto that - you'll run out of paved road in about a mile or two - then, follow that until you reach a gully that turns into a dry wash, then gradually becomes the Canyon. But - I wouldn't advise goin' in there alone, especially as you're a woman. There's been some trouble lately over at the nearby reservation, some of these Apaches - the Jicarela and Mescalero - have gone renegade, land disputes with the federal government n' such, and have taken up some of their old ways again! Some of them might be holed up in there."
She rolled her dark brown eyes again at this, unbelieving. "Oh, give me a break, John Wayne! You're telling me that actual catherine bell nude Native Americans have 'gone on the warpath, against the white man', here and now - in the start of the twenty-first century?! Save your tall tales for some of the local kiddies, mate - I've both seen and been in the midst of some real savages, recently, and I don't scare easily!"
The lanky Westerner only shook his head. "Some of those boys still like to practice their old customs, especially where an attractive white woman like you's concerned. If I were you, I'd keep on goin', till I got out of the county before dark."
Isadora regarded him derisively. "I stand forewarned - and, I'll free nude redheads still take my chances with them over you, any day, Cowboy Dan! If I truly need any help, I'll just use my cell phone to call out the cavalry! Thanks muscle babes so much for your Western hospitality, pardner - and, goodbye!"
As the proud, fiery British woman got back into her SUV and peeled out towards the main road in a cloud of yellow dust, the laconic cowhand stared after her, while Cal and Shadow both watched. He glanced down at them as he spoke.
"Now, I tell ya', boys - there goes a woman who's either beaucoup crazy, got a passel of guts, a bushel of nerve - or maybe any combination of the three, I dunno. But, I do know this - " (smiling) " - she's a real piece a' work, ain't she?"
His horse neighed assent, as the dog barked, and wagged his tail in agreement.
* * *
Isadora gunned the Hyundai Santa Fe down the rock-strewn dried-up riverbed leading into Lost River Canyon, then finally settled down as she slowed for a closer look at the surroundings, still angry over the nerve of the amorous cowboy who took such liberties with her. Yet - despite her annoyance - she somehow found his outdated chauvinism rather disarming, women giving hand jobs even charming, perhaps? And, the masterful way he handled her with that lariat ...
Oh, now, stop that, Dora Pig, she scolded herself, get a grip! You're a strong-willed, competent woman of the world, much too mature to fall for such juvenile, macho posturing. After her numerous affairs and relationships with men in the past, there was but one thing above all else she had learnt about hillary duff naked them, a hard lesson indeed - they always thought with their dicks, not their hearts - they were simply not to be trusted! adolescent girls in bikinis A young female models "free car models agent", is how she saw herself these days, and all the better for it!
Stopping the vehicle and shutting off the engine, she got out and ventured forth to view the rugged scenery. Wow, she thought - not bad, not bad at all? Might fit in well with the rest of her shots to date for a nice coffee-table book. She went around to the lift-gate in the rear, to access her Canon and tripod, fitted the camera with an appropriate zoom telephoto lens, and proceeded to set up shop again, with a view of some hairy vagina simply gorgeous red rock cliffs and shale outcroppings, their burnt sienna, golden brown, and crimson hues standing out in stark contrast to the spare, turquoise sky. As she busied herself with this task, little did she know that her every movement was being scrutinized at a safe distance from discovery by pairs of stealthy, furtive large tits dark eyes - male eyes.
So, it came as a complete surprise when she turned at a soft, almost imperceptible footfall too late to avoid her savage attackers - five strange, swarthy men of varying ages, with long, dark hair ringed by patterned headbands, war-painted visages, calico blouson-style shirts, buckskin leggings, armed with antique rifles and long, wicked-looking knives in their belts. At once she recognized them, as they pounced upon her and held her immobile by her arms, gesturing threateningly with obviously hostile intent and grunting in an unknown, guttural language. Cowboy Dan's last words instantly came back to haunt her.
These thuggish brutes were unmistakably Native American - Indians, possibly Apaches! Long-ago old Western movies from her girlhood, and the terrors that such individuals usually visited upon helpless fuck women women captives, especially white women, came flooding back almost instantly - and, she felt a delicious, submissive thrill at the memory of them! Before she could utter a word of outraged protest, or reach for the pepper spray or cell phone in her kit, they tied a dirty rag across her mouth tightly for a gag, and then bound her wrists & ankles fat ass the same way behind her.
Next they tied her by both ends to a long, roughly hewn wooden pole that they'd been carrying, so that when two of them grabbed either end, she was suspended horizontally like some trophy game animal, instead of a human female. At the same time, one of the two younger braves had discovered her camera and tripod, examining it with a mixture of wariness and amusement, until he'd seemingly figured out what it was and how it worked, and trained it on the three of them, as they all laughed and shook her on the pole while the first one snapped off shot after shot. Despite her fear and excitement, the lady photojournalist was incensed - how dare these heathens manhandle her precious equipment in such a manner - they wouldn't know an F-stop from a CCD!
The sextet of captors and captive moved to where the Indians' horses were tethered to scrub trees behind some huge boulders, and as they all mounted their unsaddled steeds, the two guarding Isadora held her pole between them, so that they could keep her crude prison horizontal as they all galloped off in a group, shouting war whoops and cries as they rode away. Uncomfortable as it seemed, she secretly admitted to herself that such capture & bondage was a huge turn-on, as evidenced by her rapid pulse and panting breath.
After a few dusty miles of hard riding, the group came upon a box canyon deep inside the larger one. From her skewed perspective, Lady Isadora saw what appeared to be a wooden post about seven feet tall, carved out of a tree trunk perhaps, sunk into celebs naked the cracked, sun-baked earth nearer micro mini bikini the back wall, with a circle of sticks and branches spread out around the base of it, young redhead a faintly familiar sight somehow, as if just waiting for ... it dawned on her suddenly with the force of an electric shock! They were going to treat her to a "slow burn" at the stake, just like in all those old Western movies! Again, another, even more surreptitious shudder overcame her. Oh, how quaint! And, exciting!
As they came to a stop and dismounted, the two that held her by the pole brought her down a bit roughly, standing it on end, as they unbound her. Still threatening her with the rifles and knives, the savages proceeded to strip the fair Englishwoman of all her clothing, from her casual expedition shirt, pants and boots, to her socks, and underwear, until she was left totally nude under the burning Southwestern desert sun, more vulnerable than she could ever recall.
Even though of a tall, athletic build, she could not fend off the five pairs of rapacious male hands poking, prodding and examining her everywhere, even in her most intimate spots, as the men evilly laughed, chuckled, and ogled her naked beauty from her dark hair, to her nether regions, as if crudely commenting on her meat quality. Harder still was the effort to remain furiously outraged & indignant, while inwardly thrilling to their touch, even finding herself growing wet in secret places.
Sensing that she should well put up more of a believable fight, Lady Isadora struggled gamely, but was carried off over to the upright stake, upon which they proceeded to bind her securely, with a series of rough, coarse ropes, from her ankles to her breasts. In light of all that had just happened, this actually took her by surprise - despite having her nude & helpless, they weren't even going to have the decency to properly "tenderize" her, before the hot stake part? How unspeakably rude, and wasteful to boot! She was about to protest to this effect when one of the natives removed her cloth gag, but quickly replaced it with a round, orangish fruit of some type shoved naked yoga securely into her open mouth. The beach babes of hawaii taste was strange, yet not unfamiliar - not an apple, as she'd always secretly hoped, but - a persimmon? Following this, a couple of others brought over a metal bucket full of a brown viscous liquid, and began sloppily applying it to her bare flesh with both lascivious, sadistic grins redhead teen and crude wooden-handled brushes, covering her from her feet on up to her neck in the thick, spicy-scented mixture that made her pussy lips, breasts and nipples tingle with arousal. What was this - some ancient recipe for Indian barbeque sauce?