Mar 022011
 

The West might have been Wild but in the little town of Brown Mud, we had no trouble. Part of it was because we had no gold mines, no train tracks and a healthy crop of strange tobacco that kept everyone mellow. The other main reason we had no troubles is because the baddest bad ass of the West would come by once a month to fuck our local sheriff, Johnny Lumber. Her name was Texanah.

Texanah was a wildcat. Long blonde hair, big grand tetons and thighs that could crush a steel caboose made her the proudest woman ever to call herself a Texan. The woman rode around and righted wrongs, killed those needing killing and fucking the shit out of most everything. That gal was a real American.

Now her and Johnny Lumber had an understanding. It was a bit complicated but it went something like this: When Texanah was in town, no one better commit a crime because Texanah was knocking boots, boobs and pussy with the Sheriff. If someone did commit a crime, why Johnny and Texanah would shoot them seventeen times and hang them for the interruption.

It was a right good arrangement and it kept the people of Brown Mud well protected. Texanah usually came around the 22nd of every month like clockwork, though some of the lady folks hint that it was some sort of internal clock that kept Texanah coming back around that time. Whatever the reason, she always came on the 22nd.

The problem came when Texana showed up early on the 16th one month. She rode into town and saw that there was another horse tied up outside the sheriff’s office. Even worse, she could hear the sounds of crazy sex coming from inside the building. Sheriff Lumber was giving his wood to someone else!

“You got ten seconds to get your whore ass out here so I beat the brown mud out of you!” Texanah yelled. The crowd applauded her clever way with words in how she worked in the name of the town. Some cowgirls just have style, you know?

Seven seconds later, out came the woman in question. It was Meximaria! She was the meanest, toughest and most attractive woman south of the border! She had long black hair that she wore under a tassled red hat. Her great tits were the color of dark tea smothered under her white blouse. Leather chaps encased thick thighs that could hold onto a raging Republican.

“What the Hell are you doing here, chica?” Meximaria said.

“What the Hell are you doing with my man?” Texanah said.

Meximaria walked out into the street. Texanah stood her ground but turned to face her. The people of Brown Mud got the fuck off the streets to give them some room.

“Your man? You have a lot of nerve coming here and saying that, punta!” Meximaria said.

“I don’t know what that means, but I am not surprised that a whore like you might know foreign dirty words!” Texanah said.

Johnny Lumber came out of the sheriff’s building. His pants were still around his ankles. His piece was swinging between his legs and everyone understood what exactly the fight was about.

“Hey gals, there is no need to fight!” Johnny said.

“Shut up!” both women yelled.

Jophnny Lumber stood there silently like a good boy.

“On the count of three, draw,” Texanah said to Meximaria. “Or do you not know American numbers?”

“I am just surprised that you can count to three,” Meximaria said.

Texanah narrowed her eyes. Meximaria flexed her fingers. Both girls had their hands inches away from their guns. I started to play a little whistling tune on my flute to set the mood.

“One,” Texanah said.

“Dos,” Mexmimaria said.

“Three!” Texanah said.

Lightning quick hands went into motion. Both ladies whipped their pistols out of their holsters and started shooting. Lead was flying thicker than a mess of hornets.

Now when men shoot each other, they stand real still. I think it is because it makes them look good but women understand that standing still makes you easier to hit. Texanah and Meximaria was dancing and weaving like a june bug crawled up their snatch. The two women were shooting and dodging, shooting and dodging.

They weren’t hitting each other but they were coming close. A bullet went right through the shoulder of Texanah’s vest and her tit popped out. A bullet went through the side of Meximaria’s pants and her chap leg fell down. Texanah barely dodged a bullet to her crotch but she lost her belt buckle. Meximaria stepped out of the way of one bullet but it shot the button off her blouse and popped it open.

The smoke of gunpowder hung in the air. It was as thick as the smoke around harvest time. We held our breaths as we waited to see which one of the two ladies survived. When the smoke finally cleared, both ladies were still standing. Their clothes were in tatters around their feet. All they had on was their hats and their boots!

Texanah and Meximaria kept pulling the triggers but their guns were empty. Men might have reloaded but these two hellcats couldn’t be bothered. They tossed down their guns and ran straight for each other. They were going to settle this by hand.

I once saw a prostitute bathe in whiskey but I ain’t never seen nothing more beautiful than those two running at each other. Texanah with her lovely canyons and Meximaria with her dark melons were like proof that God was a man. Why, if they ever invent the moving picture, they would just film those two running all day.

The two women collided into each other. They then bounced off each other as their breasts crashed together. Both ladies shook their heads and then dived at each other again.

This is when things got real ugly. Or real pretty depending on your place on the street. Those two witches tore at each other with their fingers and teeth. They scratched each other’s tits, pulled on each other’s bushy sex hair and bit each other’s thighs. They rolled around on the dirt and since we just had a good rain, they were getting good and muddy. Somehow they managed to keep their hats on, but what would you expect from such legendary cowgirls?

They rolled and tussled and they bit and shoved. They rolled down one end of the street and back up it. Around and round their tits and ass went and they were kicking, screaming, scratching, biting and hissing the entire time. Shit, I wouldn’t mind watching that every Saturday night.

At some point the screams were started getting personal. It sounded a lot like moans. Instead of scratching, it looked like some fingers were stroking and pinching. Hands went to private parts and stayed there, but more importantly, it didn’t seem like the other was trying to push them away. Biting of tits turned into sucking of nipples and kicking with knees turned into straddling of thighs.

They stopped rolling and were right in front of the sheriff’s office. Texanah had her head between Meximaria’s thighs, while Meximaria had her head right up on Texanah’s cooch. They were kissing each other right there on their sexes! It was the wildest thing I had ever seen. I guess only a woman could stand to eat that!

“What they doing?” Sheriff Lumber said.

The ladies kept eating at each other.

“It is some kind of lesbianism!” Molly, the school teacher said.

“Lordy!” Sheriff Lumber said. “Isn’t that how women get the vote? We got to stop it!”

Sheriff Lumber went over to the horse trough and grabbed a bucket. He filled up a bucket of water and came back to the kissing ladies. That bucket of water emptied right on them and doused them all wet and shiny.

“Oh Hell, no!” Texanah said. She stood up in all her wet naked glory.

“Madre Fuckero!” Meximaria said. She stood up in all her wet naked glory.

Somehow, both ladies were wearing the other’s hats.

“This woman is ten times the man you are between my thighs!” Texanah said.

“This senora can get between my legs any time she wants, but you never will again!” Meximaria said.

“Now hold on ladies,” Sheriff Lumber said. “I’m sure we can go inside and talk this out. Maybe we can invent the threesome!”

What happened next was too fast for the human eye to follow. Sheriff Lumber fell to the ground with two black eyes. Texanah and Meximaria spun around from the force of their swings. They looked at each other and whispered something.

No one knows what they say, but the two gals walked straight to the hotel and got themselves a room. They had wild loud sex for a good week before they were done. When they finally finished, the two rode off in different directions, swearing to meet back next month.

As for Sheriff Lumber, well we elected Molly the school teacher to his job and things have been quiet ever since.

Jun 092010
 

I saw her ride into the town of Curveback. Being the town drunk, I didn’t have much else to do that afternoon. It was a good thing that I had only drank twelve whiskeys that morning because a sight like her needs to be seen with sober eyes.

She had long blonde hair the color of the Texas sun. A vest covered her giant tits but it did a poor job of it. Leather chaps covered her legs but they couldn’t hide how tightly those legs were wrapped around her horse. That was a woman who could ride damn near anything and come out on top.

The cowgirl rode right up to me. I stood up and offered her a drink from my bottle of whiskey. She took my bottle and opened her lips. Would you know that she took six inches of that bottle into her mouth and swallowed all of it’s contents? Damn, the girl had talent.

“My name is Texanah,” she said. She tossed the bottle back to me. “I hear you got yourself a ghost problem.”

“That’s right, ma’am!” I said. “We had ourselves a real Romeo type a few weeks back. His name was Big Bart and he was quite popular with the ladies. He had half the women in town and the only reason he didn’t have the other half was because he hadn’t gotten around to them yet. Why, he had a new woman every night and not a single one of those ladies blame him to the sheriff. The women would claim that they slipped and fell onto his manhood, or that they had fainted and he was trying to revive them with a French method. You know, that sort of thing.”

“And how did the menfolk take it?” Texanah asked.

“Well, they didn’t take it at all,” I said. “They got tired of Big Bart and decided to finish the problem. They dragged out of the bed of the school teacher and brought him to the town square. They strung up a rope and then they strung him up. They say his pecker was still hard and frustrated when they hanged him.”

“That is an essential part of the story, right?” Texanah said.

“Damn right,” I said. “Well, ever since we hung him, the ghost of Big Bart has come back. Every night he haunts and assaults a new woman in the town of Curveback. Only now, there ain’t nothing the men can do it about it! The Hung Horseman can’t be shot, beaten or hanged again. He’s a ghost now!”

“The Hung Horseman?” Texanah asked with a twinkle in her blue eyes. “Is that his new name now?”

“Kind of catchy, right?” I said. “Just because we are being haunted and our womenfolk dishonored is no reason to not have an interesting name for our local ordeal. Besides, we needed a good name for when we put out the reward posters. Five hundred dollars to the person who can get rid of the Hung Horseman!”

Texanah nodded. “This is Curveback’s lucky day,” she said. “I am going to bust your ghost once and for all.”

She had a simple plan. She set up her bedroll right in the middle of town square. While the town slept, she stripped down to butt naked. I knew this because my sleeping spot was right outside the town saloon and once you see Texanah strip down naked, it wakes your drunk ass right back up.

So there she was, lying on the ground as naked as a baby. The moonlight made her big breasts glow like smaller moons. She had her legs spread wide and it took all of my self control not to get up and go over there to crawl between them. She had her hat over her face but her blonde hair spilled around like a golden pillow.

That was when the Hung Horseman appeared. He rode out of the night sky on a horse as black as, well, night. On hooves of fire, the horse rode down from the sky and the Hung Horseman was riding him bare naked. The long rope of the noose dangled behind him for even in death he couldn’t be rid of the mob’s noose.

The Hung Horseman flew down to the ground and then he got off his spectral horse. He walked carefully over to Texanah’s nude body. His cock got hard and god damn! That thing was as long as the Rio Grande and twice as thick. Even though he was a ghostly manifestation of a dead man, I had to admire the healthy size of his side iron.

At this point, Texanah sat up. She put her hat on her head and looked at the Hung Horseman. They stared at each other for a minute.

“What the fuck you waiting for?” Texanah said. “Ride me, Horseman!”

The Hung Horseman laughed. It was a creepy evil laugh. It gave me the shivers just to hear it. He did what she said though. He got right down between her thighs and stuck that monster of a cock inside her.

Texanah didn’t even grunt. She just wrapped her legs around the Hung Horseman pulled him down onto her chest. Her heels kicked his ass to spur him into doing what he did best.

The Hung Horseman fucked her. Sweet Baby Jesus and his Mother Mary, did the Hung Horseman fuck her. His ass was a blur as he pounded into Texanah with all his might. The sound of cock entering pussy echoed through out the town as the Hung Horseman left her have it.

Texanah seemed to like it too. She let out a loud yoddle as he tore up that pussy. That was a scream of pure pleasure if I have ever heard one. Her heels kept kicking at him, urging him to go deeper and harder. The whole time her heels are kicking, she was screaming like a cat in heat.

Well, it wasn’t long before the Hung Horseman pulled out of Texanah. He stood up with that cocky grin that the women of Curveback knew so well. Texanah just laid there, breathing hard with her legs still spread.

The Hung Horseman headed back to his horse when Texanah called out to him.

“Hey, where you going?” she yelled. Texanah rolled over onto all fours. She shook her ass at him like a filly.

The Hung Horseman grinned and went back to her. He got down on his knees and slipped his rifle into her from behind. Texanah screamed again as he filled her. He grabbed her hair like they were reins and yanked her head back like she was an Injun bow. With her head pulled back like that, her wonderful breasts were pushed forward so I could admire them better.

He fucked her. He fucked her like a dog on the streets. He fucked her like a stallion taking his pick of the herd. He fucked her a supernatural ghost tearing up some pussy at the stroke of midnight. It was an awesome sight let me tell you.

Texanah took it. Hell, she kept asking for more.

“Harder, cowboy!” she would yell.

“Come on now, I heard you were good,” she would yell too.

“Damn, I’ve had city slickers fuck me harder!” she screamed at one point.

That just pissed the Hung Horseman off. He fucked her twice as hard till those pretty tits of hers were bouncing all over the place. Texanah stopped taunting him and started screaming as she came. She screamed three times before the Hung Horseman screamed his pleasure as well.

The Hung Horseman stood up on shaky legs. He stumbled back to his horse and was getting ready to ride off. That was when his noose yanked him off his feet and he landed on the ground.

Texanah was holding the other end. “I ain’t done with you yet,” she said.

Before the Hung Horseman could do anything, Texanah sat down right on his cock. This time he was the one that cried out as Texanah took back inside her insatiable pussy. She settled down on him like he was her favorite saddle. She wrapped his noose around her arm; making sure she had him by the leash.

I watched as Texanah fucked the Hung Horseman. Fuck, I thought he was fast but Texanah was like a damn tornado on his cock. Up and down she bounced; her blonde hair and big tits bouncing all around her. She used one hand to hold onto her hat as she fucked the shit out of the ghost.

Texanah screamed herself hoarse as she rode the Hung Horseman. I think the gal must have had a dozen orgasms. She rode him for hours, sometimes fast and vicious and sometimes real slow like as she grinded her hips on him. She rode him hard until the first rays of sunlight started to peek over the horizon.

“All right,” Texanah finally said. “I guess I am done with you.”

“Jesus Christ,” the Hung Horseman said. He got up on shaky legs and stumbled to his horse. Texanah had to give him a push up.

“Now don’t come back around here no more!” Texanah said. “You scaring the men folk!”

“Shit,” the Hung Horseman said. “I don’t think I will ever fuck again.”

“Good ghost!” Texanah said. She slapped the demon horse on the butt and it flew off into the sky. “Don’t make me come back to this shithole town!”

“Yes ma’am!” the Hung Horseman yelled from the sky.

After he flew off, Texanah walked over where I was sitting. I noticed she was walking real tender like and a little bow legged.

“Go wake up the sheriff,” she said to me. “Tell him I want my five hundred dollars. Then go to the saloon and tell them to get a tub of hot water ready for me.”

I nodded and started to get up. She grabbed me by the neck and told me one last thing.

“And get me some riding cream from the general store. That Hung Horseman name was mighty accurate.”

Oct 212009
 

It was a somber night at the Big Cup Saloon. The drinkers were drinking in silence. The whores were barely talking dirty. The gamblers were making intelligent bets based on probability and not sheer guts. It was a depressing October night.

The empty stage was a terrible reminder of what had happened last night. The Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets had come all the way from Chicago to perform their famous naughty act. They had come out onto the stage right as a nasty fight was breaking out over by the poker tables. Guns were drawn and eighty shots were fired in a mad battle for survival.

Only one of the gunfighters had been killed, but all twenty of the Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets had been shot dead. Being loose women, the local preacher wouldn’t let them be buried in the town graveyard. There was an old Injun burial ground that was used instead. Being from out of town, no one was willing to buy them coffins, so they were dumped into a mass grave with their flirty costumes still on.

Because of the violence of last night, the saloon owner, Big Hank, wouldn’t let anyone bring their guns in. All of the firearms were locked in a safe by the door. People grumbled but it was the only saloon in town. They turned in their side irons and tried to get a drink and some pussy.

About the only thing that was good about that quiet night was a newcomer in town. Her name was Texanah and she had tits bigger than the whiskey barrels. She had long blonde hair that spilled out of her cowboy hat and a tight ass that she encased in even tighter jeans. The woman was a one tramp whorehouse and she had been drinking and fucking all day in the spare room upstairs. I heard she wasn’t even paying Big Hank for the room. She just let him watch while she fucked anyone with ten dollars in their pockets.

But not even Texanah could revive this dead night. The swearing was half hearted and not even that asshole, Florida Bloyd could get a fight started. I was playing the piano and no one was making requests. The damn place felt cursed.

Pretty soon, we found out we were cursed. It started with a scream at the door. Big Hank’s muscle man, Dirty Paul, was screaming like a girl who just got poked for the first time. It was an awful inhuman scream. We all looked at him and saw what the fuss was about. He had a woman ripping his guts out, and here is the sick part, she was jamming those guts into her mouth.

Oh lordy, she wasn’t alone. There about twenty women pushing their way through the door. They shambled into the saloon still wearing the dirt covered dance clothes we buried them in. It was the Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets, and they were back from the dead! They were also pissed as Hell and hungry for flesh!

Things got crazy. No one had any guns and all of the weapons were locked in a safe that was covered in Dirty Paul’s blood. The Strumpets stumbled forward, their pale tits jiggling within their tight corsets. Their torn skirts revealed flashes of dirty thighs and shins. Any one stupid enough to get within arm’s reach of them was torn apart by supernatural strength. The undead dancers would pause to eat the body but mostly they seemed more interested in the live meat.

“Give me your fucking skirt!” Texanah yelled. A whore next to her jumped and started to undo her dress. Texanah had no time for that shit. She grabbed a hold of that skirt and ripped it straight off her body.

The Strumpets shambled closer and ate poor Old Man Ollie. Texanah ignored them and chucked off her jeans. The people in the saloon were conflicted. Sure, there were nasty undead dancers coming closer, but Texanah just bared her ass to everybody. They didn’t know who to keep an eye on.

Texanah wrapped the skirt around her and climbed onto the empty stage. “Play some god damn dancing music!” she yelled.

I started playing. As soon as the music played, Texanah started dancing. Boy, could that girl kick high! Her legs snapped up into the air and her skirt billowed like a flower opening in spring. Even though she was wearing cowboy boots, that girl was dancing pretty fast. Every kick of her leg would flash her cooch to the entire saloon.

The men were spellbound but the Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets were watching too. They started growling; a terrible nasty sound of the damned. I had worked with enough women to know that sound. They were jealous.

The Strumpets jerked. All of them twitched in the same identical manner. Their backs arched and their hips moved. The walking corpses spasmed in harmony with each other. They formed a line in the saloon and they danced.

Holy shit. The cadavers can-caned with a fury you wouldn’t expect out of dead women. They grabbed their skirts and kicked even higher than Texanah! They flashed their unholy thighs and garters at us with each hellish kick.

Texanah seemed to take that as a challenge. She kept dancing and stripped off her shirt. Her big bountiful tits bounced with each kick. Texanah jumped in the air and spread her legs out in mid air like she was mounting a horse. She swung her hips around and humped the air in the most decadent manner I have ever seen. I don’t know what kind of dancing that was, but it sure as Hell was dirty.

The Strumpets growled again. They danced harder. Desperate to outdo Texanah, they ripped their clothes to reveal bullet holes and big cold breasts. Some of the men screamed in horror as the Strumpets showed a little too much dead skin and blood.

The Strumpets didn’t care. They did more elaborate steps around each other. Around and round they danced, ducking under each other’s arms and legs in a beautifully choreographed display of teamwork and skill. Even dead, they were the best Can-Can dancers in the country.

Texanah was grabbing her tits and shaking her ass at the crowd. The crowd of terrified and oddly horny men cheered louder for Texanah. The trampy blonde didn’t have the skill of the Strumpets but she made up for it with a trainload of passion. Texanah danced because it was so much like fucking.

The Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets had had enough. Still dancing, they slowly filed onto the stage. Their legs still kicking, the lined back up on the stage to grab the audience’s attention.

To my surprise, Texanah let them have the stage. She moved away as they crowded her off and she jumped down when there was no more room. The crowd sighed but they were smart enough not to boo.

The Strumpets really went into their act then. They danced their little unbeating hearts out. One of them jumped in the air and something disgusting flew off her body. Another one did a cartwheel and left her hand on stage. They kept on dancing though. They weren’t going to let a thing like decomposition slow them down.

BAM! BAM! BAM! Three of the Strumpets suddenly lost their heads in a red mist.

Texanah had cracked open the safe and gotten the guns out! Butt-naked except for her hats and boots, Texanah had a pistol in each hand. She fired on the dancers who were all conveniently lined up in a row. She aimed for the head, taking each one out with a single shot to the face. When she exhausted her guns, she would drop them and grab more off the safe.

When the gunsmoke cleared, all of the Fabulous Can-Can Strumpets were dead again. The lack of heads kept them down this time. The crowd let out a sigh of relief that the nightmare was over.

Texanah was pissed. “God damn, couldn’t one of you assholes have done this while I was dancing?”

No one had an answer for that. To make up for it, we dragged that smart ass pastor out of his church and made him give a good Christian burial to each and every one of those damned souls. We built them coffins with locks on them and we buried them in the church graveyard.

As for Texanah, she left after the last funeral. “It is time for me to move on,” she said. “This place is too dead for me.”

Sep 252009
 


This is a sketch by Rich Larson depicting Texanah. I kept the description simple for this. I wanted a busty blonde gunslinger fighting aliens that could be from a 50’s science ficiton movie. Rich asked me if I would mind of they were Mars Attacks aliens and I expressed my happy delight. He also asked if I wanted her squaring off against a single alien like in a duel. I thought about it and said I would prefer if it was crazy chaos.

He wrote the word ‘Chaos’ on his notepad. Yehaw!

The flying saucer was an excellent addition but what I love it the one alien clinging to her leg. Oh my, that is such a hilarious act of desperation.

Texanah as a character has been a strange one for me. I love tall tales and have experimented with the genre before. The Island Princess stories are very similar, but I see them as late night dirty children stories. Texanah was a character that let me mess around with the tall tales that used to circulate out of the Wild West.

Which brings me to one of my favorite topics considering the Wild West. The western territories were so untamed and fantastic, that writers would visit the area and send back stories to be published back east. The stories were exaggerations of actual events, but it helped make some people like Wild Bill Hickok and Jesse James the bigger than life figures they were. These real people were made into fantastic characters on par with Sherlock Holmes.

Considering that people on the east coast were used to reading about incredible things happening in the Wild West, I always thought it was possible for more fantastic things to exist in the fiction. A cowboy who came all the way from Krypton and was raised by good ole Americans to be a law and order type would barely be different from the other outlandish cowboys that were being written about in the 1880’s. I wish there were more crazy Wild West fiction with aliens, monsters and dinosaurs. They could exist, get reported and written about and still make little impact on history because the public would think it was standard Wild West truth stretching.

But really the reason I write Texanah stories is because it is about a hot busty blonde woman who wears a cowboy hat, chaps and sometimes not much more. That just writes itself.

Aug 192009
 

“Step right up!” the slick man from out East yelled. “Today you will see a modern marvel the likes that have never seen before in the year of our lord, 1866! Made from good American Steel and designed by finest minds in New York City, and transported all the way to here, Deadbrush, Texas, this amazing contraption is the cure for all good men and their not so good wives. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Steam Powered Wife Spanker!”

He pulled a cloth down and the crowd gasped at the sight before them. It was seven feet tall and shaped like a giant man. The steel caught the Texas sun and dazzled us like a jewel. It had a boiler on its back for the water but what really impressed us was the paddle it carried. The paddle was six feet long and a foot wide. It was one mean looking paddle.

“Now gentlemen I want you to know that I know what it is like,” the slick salesman continued. “You provide a good home for your wives, complete with a stove and a basket full of your clothes to clean. You feed them and let them go out to church every Sunday. You look over them and keep them away from any whiskey yet still these wives act up. They start getting ideas like wanting the vote! Or maybe they want something really crazy like their own money!”

The crowd laughed. Mostly male voices.

“So sometimes you have to bring your wife to heel,” the slick man said. “You got to smack her a little and put her in her place. Well after a hard day of working and drinking, who has time for that? That is why my company designed the Steam Powered Wife Spanker! With just three buckets of water and one log of wood, the Steam Powered Wife Spanker will give your misbehaving wife the loving correction she needs! The Steam Powered Wife Spanker is one hundred percent guaranteed to tame your wife and teach her the errors of her ways!”

“Oh yeah?” a female voice yelled out.

It was Texanah. She was a wild woman to say the least. No one knew where she came from. She rode into town one day and took up drinking at the Crown Saloon. Rumor had it that she would fuck a man if she liked the way he packed his guns, and not take any money for it! She earned all of her money playing cards, always placing her opening bet with her shirt.

“Well Miss,” the fast talking Easterner said. “I can tell you are a bad sort of woman. You’re wearing jeans, which I didn’t think was humanly possible for a woman to wear. Your shirt is torn open so that I can see both of your buffaloes and your blonde hair is way longer than any decent woman would let it be. The Steam Powered Wife Spanker can teach even a harlot like you a thing or two!”

Texanah spit on the ground. “Want to make a bet out of it?”

The salesman nodded and raised his hands. “If you can take what the Steam Powered Wife Spanker teaches you, then I will give you one hundred dollars out of my own pocket. If you cry out for mercy and we stop the Steam Powered Wife Spanker, then you must promise to wear a dress and live a life of propriety forevermore!”

“Cocksucker, you are on!” Texanah said.

The crowd got excited. They loved a good bet but ever since Texanah had showed up, the womenfolk had been acting uppity. Some of the whores had been getting ideas and asking for more respect. Some of the wives had been asking why they couldn’t wear jeans too. Even the schoolteacher had asked to get paid for teaching. It was getting to be shameful.

They brought a sawhorse to the Steam Powered Wife Spanker and Texanah allowed herself to be tied to it. They strapped her down with rope around her wrists and ankles so she couldn’t dodge the paddle. The Sheriff stood by with a knife, ready to cut her loose as soon as she yelled for mercy.

I have to say, Texanah sure did look good. Bent over with her ass up in the air, I started to get some unhealthy ideas. Her massive chest straddled both side of the sawhorse just as tightly as her legs did. If I had one of those fancy cameras, I would have asked the crowd to wait ten minutes while I took a picture.

When everything was ready, the cityslicker pulled a handle on the Steam Powered Wife Spanker. A loud whistle screamed out of the metal man and the paddle arm pulled back. The crowd was silent as the arm went back, back and further back before finally swinging down like a snap of the bullwhip.

WHACK! The paddle slammed into Texanah’s ass. Her hat went flying off and no one knows if it ever came back down again.

“Is that all you got?” Texanah yelled.

Almost as if the Steam Powered Wife Spanker heard her, it swung again. After the first slow blow, the other swings were fast. Whack, whack, whack the paddle struck her bottom and the sound of metal on jean covered ass echoed through the town. The force of the blows made Texanah’s entire body shake and her hair was a flying everywhere but still the bad girl wouldn’t give up.

“Shit, I’ve been hit harder by mattress springs!” Texanah yelled.

The slick salesman made an ugly face and fiddled with a dial on Steam Powered Wife Spanker. The paddle came down faster and harder as the whistled screamed louder. The paddle was a blur as it smacked into Texanah’s butt.

The crowd started to murmur and I pushed my way through to see what the commotion was about. It was Texanah’s jeans. The paddle was hitting her so hard; it was shredding the touch denim on her backside! Blow by blow, we saw more of Texanah’s curvy bottom.

Whoo-ee, and what a bottom! She had a nice round ass but it was so firm from all the riding she did. Every time the paddle hit her ass, the force would ripple across her skin like rainwater in a bucket. Her bottom was the color of a red apple and getting darker with every paddle swing.

As for Texanah, I could tell it was starting to hurt the girl. She was gritting her teeth and her eyes were clenching awfully tight. Her blonde hair flew around her face with every walloping slap to her ass. The dirty gal had some spirit in her, I tell you.

“Fuck, when is it supposed to start hurting?” she yelled.

The crowd laughed. The crowd had no love for Texanah but they always liked to see a Texan give shit to an Easterner. The salesman was getting pissed at her wise ass remarks. He dumped another bucket of water into the Steam Powered Wife Spanker, turned a few dials and pulled down hard on a lever.

The machine screamed with new whistles and the paddle was flying faster than a locomotive running from Indians. The paddle swings made so much wind that the men had to hold onto their hats and the women had to hold down their skirts. It was a storm of paddling the like we had never seen before and never will again.

“Yee-haw!” Texanah yelled. The wicked woman was actually laughing as the paddle punished her bottom. She struggled against the ropes and I thought she was trying to escape, but I was wrong. Texanah was lifting her ass into the paddle! She had a big smile on her face and a dreamy look in her eyes.

The harlot liked it.

A popping sound came from the Steam Powered Wife Spanker. The head started wobbling and one of its legs was vibrating. Water was coming out its arm and the paddle was shaking with each swing. The crowd backed up as the salesman worked at the dials and levers. Shrieks of steams came jetting out from all over the machine. A rivet flew out and nearly took my eye.

“It’s going a blow!” someone yelled.

“I know. I’m so close!” Texanah yelled.

I still don’t know what she meant by that. The Steam Powered Wife Spanker exploded at that point, sending hot water and steaming metal in all directions. The crowd dived for cover and luckily no one got hurt. The salesman got blown through the general store and he paid a lot of money to fix their window.

Texanah only got hit by the paddle. It blew off in mid swing and slammed right into her bottom. It put a big smile on her face and she was moaning as we untied her ropes. Women can be weird sometimes.

“I’ll take that hundred dollars now,” she said. The salesman was unconscious but she had no problem fishing it out of his pockets. Well, she had a little problem walking because her ass was so red and tender. We tried to get her to put on new pants but she refused. Her jeans had two big gaping holes that showed her beautiful ass.

That’s how assless chaps were invented by the way.

“I like the feel of the wind on my ass,” she said. That was the last thing she said as she walked her horse out of town. I guess she was tired of us. Her work here was done. After the failure of the Steam Powered Wife Spanker, no one in Deadbrush tried to tame their wives with a good spanking anymore. In ten years time, we had women on the town council and they were teaching sex education in the bars to cowboys. We were never the same again.