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Review This Story || Author: Big Jake

The Outlaw's Revenge

Chapter 1 A Score to Settle

The Outlaw's Revenge



			Chapter I      A Score to Settle


     Black Jack Slocum shoved the shapely blonde from behind, sending her
lurching out of the front door of the farmhouse.  It was over ninety degrees in
the shade outside, and the late-summer Texas humidity made the thin print dress
cling to the young curves of her rounded buttocks.  God, she had a great ass,
Jack thought.  An ass that he was going to get to know better soon.  Real soon.
    
     Honey Wilson was tall, and tan, and had more curves than the Rio Grande. 
She was built for a man's pleasure, and she knew it, Jack could tell.  Her
blonde pigtails stirred in the hot afternoon breeze. As he pushed her roughly
toward their destination, the imposing red barn, brief gusts of wind lifted her
dress a little, giving Jack a nice glimpse of her long tanned legs.
    
     Slocum had taken her by surprise; he'd only escaped from prison a week ago,
and Honey, the girl whose testimony had convicted him, hadn't even been aware
that he was a free man. 
    
     Until a few minutes ago, when the tall gunslinger had broken into the
lonely ranchhouse in west Texas.  Despite the four years that had elapsed since
she'd sent him up, she'd recognized him at once.  He was dressed entirely in his
customary black, his stetson shading sinister dark eyes.  Black Jack sported
long sideburns, and he hadn't shaved for days; a dark ugly stubble of beard
covered a face which reminded her of nothing so much as a vulture - a brooding,
angular, pitiless bird of prey.
    
     Honey silently cursed the pair of ancient rust-colored hounds that lay
basking in the midday sun, as she passed them.  The useless canines had been too
comfortable to bother to alert her of the approach of the intruder.
    
     Jack opened the barn door and pushed her inside. He was as horny as a
fucking gamecock, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on this full-breasted
teenager.  It had been four fucking years since he had had a woman, four years
since he had even SEEN a  woman, four years sweating in that malaria-infested
hellhole of a prison to which her testimony had consigned him.  Sure he'd raped
that cute little Mexican bitch, and taken his belt to her.  But what business
was it of fifteen-year old Honey Wilson's?  If it hadn't been for her, he'd of
gotten away clean as a whistle like he had a dozen times before.
    
     Four fucking years!  He pushed Honey from behind again, and this time,  the
barefoot blonde pitched forward onto the earthen floor of the barn.  She landed
hard, crying out in pain as she did so.  The pink dress rode halfway up her
shapely thighs, golden from the hot Texas sun.  The outlaw kicked her in the
ribs with his heavy boot. "Get up, you clumsy-ass bitch!" he growled in his deep
voice.
    
     One side of the cavernous barn was piled high with hay bales.  Jack inhaled
the the fresh sweet scent of the hay, such a pleasant change from the dark dank
cell that he'd lived in for so long. 
    
     Pulling one hay bale to the center of the open space, Black Jack took a
seat on it, between Honey and the door, his eyes feasting on the ripe curves
that were plastered against the sweat-dampened fabric of the dress.  He
wondered, for a moment whether they called his nineteen-year-old captive Honey
because of the sweetness of her smile, the thickness of her Texas drawl, or her
sexy golden tan. When she had testified against him in court she had been just
another slender teenager with a pretty face.  But she was all woman now. 
    
     In fact, he thought, as she turned over to face his violent countenance and
tried to scoot backwards away from, her blond hair,  beautiful face and
voluptuous figure seemed to combine almost perfectly the freshness and
suppleness of youth with the ripe curves of maturity.
    
     Honey rubbed her side with one hand while she glared angrily at the
stony-faced man who had kicked her. There were sparks in the Norwegian blue eyes
that she'd inherited from her mother, pride in her high cheekbones, and
determination in her chin.  Jack could tell that this was a girl with a spirit
to match her beauty.
    
     When Honey had fallen forward, the material of her bodice had gotten
snagged on one of the four wooden columns that supported the barn's roof. Her
bodice had ripped slightly and when she rolled over to face the hulking
criminal,  creamy hints of Honey's luscious breasts peeked out through the thin
rent in the pink fabric.  There was no mistaking the fact that her generous
melons were naked under the gingham dress.
    
     Black Jack was hardly been able to restrain himself.  His massive cock was
pulsing with anticipation.
    
     His voice nearly hoarse with lust, Jack spoke again, "Unbutton the dress,
Honey. Let me see what you've got, now that yer all grown up." 
    
     Honey was terrified.  Her pa, her boyfriend, Clem, and all of the
ranch-hands had left on a cattle drive toward the Panhandle a couple of weeks
ago; they wouldn't be back for another couple of days.  Her mother had passed
away when she was a little girl.  She was alone on the ranch.  And the nearest
farmhouse, the Dunbar place,  was three miles down the dirt road that dead-ended
in front of the Wilson house.  She was alone with this brute.  She remembered
the look of implacable hatred he had given her in that San Antonio Courtroom
four years ago, after he had been sentenced to fifteen years for raping her
friend, Rosita.
    
     And his face was the same mask of evil now. Rosita had later told the
spellbound Honey how the cruel gunslinger and another man had broken into her
house, blindfolded her, and took turns raping her.  After a while the other man
had apparently left and Jack, still horny, forced the pretty senorita to take
his huge knobby cock in her mouth.  And then, when the Mexican girl's teeth had
accidentally brushed against his organ, how he had tied her face down on the bed
and whipped her savagely with his big-buckled belt.  Honey, who had just
happened to be passing by,  had heard  Rosita's screams, had seen Black Jack's
face through the window, had summoned help, and then identified him in front of
the jury.
    
     "I said, 'Unbutton the damn dress,', girl!"  Black Jack was losing
patience, and he didn't have much to begin with.   He'd waited four years for
his revenge, and he was in no mood to wait much longer.



Review This Story || Author: Big Jake
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