Slocum and the Misty Creek Massacre

by Jake Logan

  “John Slocum, what are you doing?”

  He answered that question by hiking up her skirt, peeling off her undergarments, and easing his hands along her thighs. She spread her legs for him and shuddered expectantly when he tossed away his hat so he could place his mouth between her legs. The thatch of hair between her thighs was soft and damp. He found her pussy lips easily and slid his tongue up and down them. By the time he tasted the sensitive nub of her clit, Bethany was gripping the top of his head and bucking against his face.

  “God damn,” she moaned. “I want you inside me now!”

  Slocum had barely stood up before she grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. When Bethany kissed him, his lips were still wet with her moisture. She alternated between slipping her tongue into his mouth and nibbling on his lips. All the while, her entire body squirmed in anticipation while Slocum’s hands wandered up and down her legs and sides.

  He’d intended on making her wait another couple of seconds just to drive her crazy, but that plan fell through the moment Slocum’s cock brushed against the moist spot between her legs. She reached down so that when he eased his hips forward, he slid right where he needed to be. Both of them moaned as he plunged all the way inside her. Bethany wrapped her legs around him while also digging her fingernails into his shoulders. As Slocum started pumping, he reached beneath the folds of her dress to find her tensed buttocks and grab them tightly to keep her in place.

  “Yes,” she cried as he gripped her harder. “Fuck me!”

  Bethany knew what she wanted. Everything from the coarse tone in her voice to the way she wantonly ground her hips in time to his thrusts told him as much. She had no qualms with positioning herself to get the most pleasure from every one of his strokes. A series of little quivers ran through her muscles, and she leaned back to breathlessly watch as Slocum continued to thrust in and out of her. Unwrapping her legs from around him, she propped her heels against the edge of the bench and opened her knees even wider. That way, she could enjoy the sight of him sliding back and forth between her thighs as she reached down to spread herself open even more for him.

  Slocum kept one hand clasped to her backside and used the other to massage her breast. When his fingers found her nipple through the thin material of her blouse, Bethany began rubbing herself. “Feels so damn good,” she sighed. Her fingers strayed a little lower so she could feel his rigid pole pump into her like a piston.

  Before he could get too comfortable in that rhythm, Slocum stepped back and lowered himself onto the floor. “Get your ass over here,” he demanded.

  Bethany’s eyes widened at the sternness of the command and she readily hopped down to approach him. “Yes, sir,” she said while pulling off her skirt and tugging at the little buttons of her blouse. By the time she got to him, she was naked from the waist down and her blouse hung open to expose her pert breasts and erect nipples. She straddled Slocum’s waist, settling over his stiff manhood.

  “What are you waiting for?” he asked.

  Rather than allow him to enter her right away, Bethany teased him by brushing the lips of her pussy against his cock. Every time he felt her moist skin slide against him, a shiver worked its way straight down to Slocum’s toes.

  “You don’t get to issue all the orders,” she told him. When Slocum reached for her hips to bring her closer, she took his hands in hers and moved them up to her breasts while she settled on top of him. “There now,” she said as he began massaging her. “Isn’t it nice to take things slower sometimes?”

  “Didn’t think you were the sort of woman who liked things slow.”

  “I like them plenty of different ways.”

  “And I like the sound of that,” Slocum said with something of a growl that emanated from the back of his throat.

  He was so hard now that he just needed to shift his hips and ease them up in order to slip inside her. The feel of his cock between her lips came as something of a surprise to her, but according to the expression on her face, it was a welcome one. She locked eyes with him and propped herself up on her hands and knees for a few more seconds before finally reaching down to hold him steady as she lowered herself all the way down.

  “Have it your way, then,” she sighed.

  Slocum grabbed her ass in both hands and pumped his cock into her with enough force to make her body stiffen and her next breath emerge in a loud grunt. “You know I will,” he said.

  Bethany had no more words for a while. All she did was place her hands flat upon his chest and remain in place as Slocum pumped into her. When he eased up, she took over by accepting every inch of him inside her body and grinding her hips in a series of slow circles. It wasn’t long before those circles became faster and tighter as she found the spot where he was giving her the most pleasure. Slocum didn’t mind staying there one bit.

  “That’s the way,” she said as she straightened her posture and bounced on top of him.

  Slocum could barely hear her over the rush of blood coursing throughout his entire body. His fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her hips as he pounded inside her again and again. Her pussy was slick and wrapped around him perfectly. When she ground against him, Slocum was able to pump even deeper between her legs. Her body started to tremble with another approaching climax, but he beat her to the punch. With one more thrust, he exploded inside her and his grip loosened.

  “Just a little more,” she pleaded. “A little more.”

  Even though Slocum was barely moving, Bethany bounced on him as if she were taming a bucking bronco. She leaned her head back and tossed her hair while riding his cock with mounting urgency. Slocum didn’t know if he could stand much more, but she finally let out a powerful cry and was overcome by an intense orgasm. When it passed, she wilted and rested on top of him.

  “Glad I found you,” she sighed.

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  Slocum caught his breath and started getting up, but Bethany wasn’t cooperating. “Come on,” he said while lifting her up a bit. “You’ve got to at least let me get to my feet.”

  She reluctantly complied, but didn’t take more than a half step away from him. When she saw him move toward the pants he’d kicked off somewhere along the way, she asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Same place I was going before. Things to do and not a lot of time to get them done.”

  “Did you come up with something more important than the last time you tried to explain yourself?”

  He picked her up and set her down to one side so she was no longer blocking his way. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I don’t have to explain myself. Not to you and not to anyone.”

  “That means you haven’t come up with anything better,” she said while hopping in front of him. When he reached out to move her aside again, Bethany grabbed his arm with a surprising amount of strength. “What I told you before still stands. I’m not about to let you go back out and kick up any more dust.”

  “The sheriff didn’t catch all of the men who shot at me through the Bullseye window. That means a killer could still be after me and if he finds me here…”

  Rather than allow him to talk his way out of that house, Bethany said, “If he knew you were here, he would have taken a shot at you already.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  “And you don’t know otherwise. Come along with me,” she said while leading him toward the stairs.

  Slocum still wanted to get back outside, where he could try and gather more information, hunt down some gunmen or…he hated to admit…cause some more trouble. Bethany was right. He was as ready as he was going to be for the next day’s trial, and whatever he might stir up before then could potentially make things worse. Also, even if he’d decided to start all the trouble Culbertson could handle, he doubted he could escape Bethany’s grip.

  She led him up the stairs toward her bedroom. “You’re not going anywhere for a while,” she promised. “After you catch your breath, I’ve got plenty more for you to
do.”

  Watching her naked backside twitch as she climbed the stairs in front of him made it difficult for Slocum to come up with one good reason why he should be anywhere else.

  18

  Despite Bethany’s best efforts to drain every bit of steam he had, Slocum woke up bright and early the next morning and was out the door before the sun had fully crested the horizon. Since he was alone in bed when his eyes had first opened, he knew he wasn’t going to beat her to the Bullseye. Sure enough, when he got to the saloon, she was at her place in the kitchen and every table was filled.

  “John!”

  Slocum partially recognized the voice, but something about it didn’t seem right. He glanced toward the back of the room to find Slick behind the bar waving at him. The balding barkeep had been the one to shout, but it was the first time he hadn’t sounded perturbed about something.

  “Go on back to the kitchen,” Slick said when Slocum returned his wave. “She’s waiting for ya.”

  There were so many customers in the place that he had a rough time navigating through them to get to the swinging kitchen doors. As soon as he stepped through them, Bethany said, “Don’t worry about finding a seat. You can eat back here. You didn’t already have breakfast yet, did you?”

  She stood at a stove with her sleeves rolled up and sweat pouring down her face. The only time he’d seen her more flushed was the night before.

  “No, I didn’t eat,” he replied. “I’m not really hungry, though.”

  “Of course you are. I know you worked up an appetite.” There were a few other workers back there with her, but she didn’t seem to care what they thought when they smirked and looked at her and Slocum.

  “I don’t have time to eat before the trial anyway,” he said. “Where’s it being held?”

  “At the feed store on North Virginia. It’s a short walk from here, but you ain’t leaving without getting something to eat. I’m making some ham steaks and biscuits. It won’t kill you to get something in your belly along with some coffee.”

  “Where’s the coffee?”

  “At the bar.”

  “Great,” Slocum said as he reached for the plate she was hastily preparing. There was already a biscuit on there, which he picked up and ripped in half. Once she placed a thick cut of ham onto the plate, he picked that up as well.

  “Use a damn fork, you savage!” she said.

  “Don’t need one,” Slocum replied while placing the ham between the biscuit halves and taking a bite. “Not enough time. This is just fine the way it is.” He showed her a smile covered in crumbs and left the kitchen.

  “Damn savage,” she grumbled.

  Slocum took another couple bites from his sandwich as he crossed the main room. He got plenty of puzzled glances as he made his way to the bar and knocked to catch Slick’s attention.

  “What’s that you got there?” the barkeep asked before Slocum’s knuckles were completely off the wooden surface.

  “Something that’ll go great with coffee,” Slocum replied.

  Not anxious to engage in more conversation with so many other customers to tend to, Slick poured some coffee into a tin cup. Slocum picked it up and headed for the door.

  “Bring my cup back!” Slick shouted.

  One of the customers bellowed, “Whatever that ham thing was, I’ll take one, too!”

  Before he could wonder if he’d started a new trend, Slocum had downed most of his sandwich. As he walked along Main Street, he alternated between eating and sipping his coffee. Once the last bit of ham steak was gone, he could see the crowd gathering outside Wheeler’s Feed and Seed. There couldn’t have been more than a dozen or so people outside, but compared to the rest of the quiet town, it might as well have been a night at the coliseum. Slocum took one last sip of coffee before setting the cup down against a water trough and quickening his pace.

  “Everybody stand back!” Sheriff Teaghan bellowed from the front door of the feed store. “Just stand back unless you’re part of the proceedings. How many of you are part of the proceedings?”

  The crowd’s chatter died down to a low murmur as two hands were slowly raised.

  “Is that just because you know one of the men in jail or because you were actually part of the case that’s being heard?”

  Both hands were lowered.

  “Thought so,” the sheriff huffed. “All of you stand back, and when the time comes, you’ll enter in an orderly manner. When we run out of seats, you’ll wait outside. I take it some of you have cases of your own to be heard by Judge Whetuski?”

  Several hands went up.

  “Good. When this first one is done, the rest of you will be ushered inside in an orderly manner.”

  Slocum had his doubts that anything close to orderly could be salvaged from this mess, but he let the town conduct its affairs in its own way. When the sheriff started to turn his back on everyone and go inside, Slocum shouted, “What about me?”

  “Didn’t I just ask for a show of hands?”

  “Didn’t you just look straight at me already?”

  The lawman rolled his eyes and motioned for Slocum to come forward.

  The inside of the store was mostly cleared out. Several long tables had been moved to one side of the large room and another table had been topped with a clean black cloth complete with bunting more suited for the Fourth of July. Three chairs were set up behind that table, and a smaller square table was set up beside that. Slocum’s guess was that the smaller table was the witness stand. The rest of the room was filled by three rows of mismatched chairs hemmed in by a stack of sacked oats and a counter filled with bridles topped by a rusty cash register. Either the owner of the store insisted on premium seats or someone snuck in, because an elderly couple already sat front and center at the head of the gallery.

  “Have a seat there,” the sheriff said while pointing to the lone chair behind the square table. “Judge Whetuski is on his way.”

  Slocum did as he was told, and the deputy approached him before his backside could get settled upon the uneven surface.

  “Hand over your guns,” the young lawman said.

  Having learned his lesson in Dodge City, Slocum was only carrying the .44 and had left the .38 in his saddlebag in the event he might need it. By the time he handed over the pistol, folks were being let in to fill the gallery seats. The proceedings got under way as soon as the chairs were filled.

  “All rise for the Honorable Judge Aaron Whetuski,” the pretty clerk announced as she entered through a door marked, STORAGE AND PRIVITE OFICES.

  Whetuski walked in from the storage room wearing a flowing black robe and carrying a thick volume of law texts as if it were his Bible. A gavel was already placed in front of the middle chair at the long table. He sat behind the little hammer, rapped it a few times upon the table, and called for order. A side door that must have led to an alley was opened to allow a strange procession to join the proceedings. At the front of the line was Sheriff Teaghan, who held a chain that was looped through shackles secured around the wrists of Milt Connoway and six other men. Slocum didn’t recognize four of the men. Wes and Benjamin were among the prisoners as well, wearing their bandages as if they’d gotten their wounds on a battlefield. The deputy was near the end of the row of prisoners, and the caboose of the shuffling train was a man dressed in full military regalia whom Slocum recognized as the man who’d met Arthur Vesper at his home. Everything from the Army medals and insignias, all the way down to the ornate buttons on his coat, was polished to a golden sheen. Slocum couldn’t help being impressed by the sight. The locals in the gallery were positively awestruck.

  Milt and two other prisoners were separated from the other shackled men and held at gunpoint against a wall away from the participants of the trial and the public gallery. Both lawmen stood watch over them while the Army officer took a seat at the far end of the long table.

  “Court is now in session,” the clerk said. “First matter on the docket is the State of Kansas versus Mil
ton Connoway, Jonathan Hendricks, and Samuel Nading.”

  “What is the charge?” Whetuski asked.

  “Multiple counts of first-degree murder in connection with the deaths of Pawnee Indians at three villages along Misty Creek. We are hearing this case at the behest of a representative of the United States Army. Since the military has declined to press further charges in the matter, it has been handed over to this court.”

  “I’ve read the report. I believe we have an expert witness present to add some further details.”

  “We do, Your Honor.” Motioning toward the officer, the clerk announced, “Major Dwight Garrison, currently in command of several outposts in Kansas and Nebraska.”

  “You were present for the Misty Creek slayings, Major Garrison?” Whetuski asked.

  The major stood at attention with enough authority to make everyone in the gallery straighten their posture. “I was, Your Honor.”

  “Can you explain anything that happened that wasn’t covered in your report?”

  “There was a string of attacks in the vicinity of Misty Creek. My regiment was given the task to investigate and provide protection for travelers in that area. Several more coaches were attacked and everyone traveling on them was brutally killed in a manner my men and I have become familiar as being Pawnee tactics.”

  The gallery shuddered.

  “When the Pawnee continued to attack civilians as well as robbing valuable shipments for what we can only assume was the furthering of their own goals,” Garrison continued, “I led a group of men to exact justice in a way that was the only method those savages could understand.”

  “Which was?”

  “We tracked the killers to where they lived and tried to take them peacefully. When they resisted, my men and I defended ourselves. The fight escalated until we had no choice but to set a torch to their camp to smoke them out. Regretfully, some Pawnee that weren’t involved in the killings may have been lost.”

  “May have been lost?” Slocum asked. “Women and children were killed. It was the Misty Creek Massacre! It was in the newspapers, for God’s sake.”