"You a gambler?" the stalwart deputy sheriff asked before both my feet were on the ground. I smoothed my dress from the long stagecoach ride, and looked up at him on the wooden sidewalk.

"No. I am not. I'm a correspondent for the Philadelphia..."

"What's that mean? Cores-pond-something."

"It means I write stories, articles for the..."

"We don't cotton to no women writers round here," he said, keeping me from stepping up out of the sun.

"Well, don't you want the people back east to know about your town, and your fine exploits?"

"There you go, using another word that makes no sense. We don't cotton to women writers."

"Well, I'm just passing through anyway. I understand the next stagecoach out of your town is tomorrow at noon so in the meantime where can I stay the night?"

"You going to do any writing about us, woman?"

"Well, I might. I thought..." I tried to inform him as I looked up at the stage driver dropping off my valise to the ground, but the deputy reached over and took hold of my hair right through my bonnet and tugged me onto the sidewalk and up against the porch post.

"I said we don't cotton to no women writers. Damn woman, thick in the head are you?" And he banged my head back against the post stunning me while his other hand clutched my right breast and seemed like he was trying to pull it right through my dress and chemise. I screamed. I heard the stagecoach driver laugh. I heard someone else say "Go easy on the easterner, Jed. At least until we get her inside, and then inside her."

The deputy's hands departed my body and my eyes cleared. Another man with a badge was picking up my valise and tossing it to the deputy. Then this man took hold of arm, a bit gentle, and escorted me inside the city jail.

"Now Ma'am, you got a name?"

"Miss Prudence Parker of Philadelphia, correspondent for the Daily..." and I went down on the floor from the well connected right cross to my jaw.

I woke up to find myself lying on a metal bed, damn thin mattress, with my dress taken off. The two men were looking down at me.

"She's all alabaster, Matt, don't look like she'd ever done a day's work in the sun," the deputy said smiling rather wickedly. The other man also smiled, but gentle like. "Ma'am Prudence, going to keep you here overnight until the stage leaves tomorrow. We don't allow women writers here in town."

I started to rise and discovered my arms were chained to the bed. I bitched about that and had a bucket of cold water sloshed onto my face. I spluttered thru that and a brass urn was shown to me. "No cold water in this one, this here has Ol' John's piss in it. You want that splashed on you?"

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, hearing a laugh in the cell behind me.

"Because we don't allow women writers here. How many times do we have to tell you?"

"That ape of yours asked if I was a gambler."

"That's his job. We allow women gamblers to come and go, but of course they are not allowed to keep any money they win off the men folk here. But you said you are a writer. Can't have you going round and stirring up trouble."

"How about you release me, give me back my dress and I'll promise not to write anything at all about this, you, or your town?"

"We've had that pulled on us before. What was her name?"

"Nelly something, Sheriff."

"Nelly Scrimshaw? The correspondent for the New York Tribune? I read her article, she never mentioned this town."

"No, she didn't, but she said some very unkind things about the territory. Now best for you is to just lie there and later on we will bring you some supper. But right now we're going to finish raising your chemise up and lowering your pantaloons to check if you have any weapons on you."

"Like hell you will!" I proclaimed then spluttered to the piss poured onto my face. I heard someone goading the deputy on. I cursed them all as my chemise was not raised up but torn open to reveal my breasts, and my pantaloons pulled down to my ankles showing off my bush. The men just stood over me, staring down.

"You were right, Jed. She's white all over. I'm thinking we should take her out back and have her run through the cactus patch. Pleasure just to watch them jugs bounce around."

"Oh, No, No," I said but the deputy took hold my hair again, and tore off the bonnet, crushed it up and stuffed it into my mouth. Not so far that I was going to gag, but I couldn't get my tongue around it to push it out. The sheriff sat down beside me and began a gentle massage of my breasts, pushing them up until his fingers closed upon my nice erect nipples. He did that several times before moving his hands down into my bush and my sex. Again he was gentle at first, thumbing my labia, then moving two fingers, then four, and finally his whole hand inside me. I moaned with a pleasure I never had before as he moved his arm into me further. I raised my hips to meet him.

"Damn if the bitch ain't wanting it, Sheriff."

"She's a lady, Jed. Probably virgin in her ass too."

The look in my eyes must have made him smile. The sheriff leaned over to bite each nipple then whispered in my ear. "I'll save your ass for later tonight." I moaned my disapproval but he was working his hand inside me now real hard and I moaned my approval of that. Then he suddenly stopped right when I needed another one or two thrusts to release my pleasure. He pulled his hand out. "Gonna have to clean her up a bit. Release her, Jed."

My arms were undone and I was hauled up by my hair. That's when I saw the man in the next cell. Ol' John as they called him, a one-toothed drunkard who reached through the bars at me. The deputy pushed me towards him and my breasts were grabbed and pulled between the bars. With my face against the bars the drunk began to go back and forth sucking my nipples. Meanwhile behind me the sheriff was taking one of his suspenders off and putting the clasps together to double the woven material. I felt the suspender crash against my ass cheeks and I shrieked as well as I could into my bonnet gag. I tried to fight off the drunk but the deputy just grabbed my arms together over my head. And the sheriff went to work striping my back from neck down to below my ass cheeks. He scooted my legs apart and applied the belt in an upward swing against my pussy. I tried to squirm but the smell of the drunk's piss on me, his bad breath as he tried to kiss me between the bars, his hold my nipples, and the relentless flogging, I was dazed and didn't care. They could fuck me now in any fashion and I would let them, just to be allowed to rest.

I was spun around and the sound of the drunk's disapproval of being robbed of my breasts, which the sheriff now began whipping. I moaned and closed my eyes. The sheriff paused for a moment to attempt to wrap his suspenders around each breast then went back to work on my belly and once more on my sex from the front side. I slowly fell to my knees. Then onto my ass, all the time the deputy hovering over me, a knee up against my shoulders to keep me upright, and the sheriff kept up a steady slashing of my body. At some point I pissed onto the floor and heard their laughs. Finally I was allowed to fall face down in the various puddles.

I don't know how long I lay there. I ached all over. And all I could think of was the sheriff's hand inside me. God, what I wouldn't do right then for that again. But it wasn't forthcoming and I must have passed out. I awoke to find myself standing tied spread against the bars, my breasts between them, but they stuck out into the corridor not the other jail cell. The drunk was passed out but sitting down by the bars where he evidently had watched me. The sheriff and deputy were in the office behind the heavy cell door. I could hear them talking. The smell of fresh urine and I looked down and saw I was standing over a pool, the officers of the law had evidently relieved themselves on me. I also realized I had been ungagged but my attempt to call out did nothing; I was dry.

Finally the door opened and two men entered. The sheriff and a man in a suit.

"Well, hello, Miss Prudence Parker of Philadelphia. Welcome to our fair city. I'm Judge Tolliver, also the town mayor, and now and then undertaker. My, my, my don't you look a sight. Yes, Sheriff, I think we should keep her for trial in my office, in the meantime I think the lady needs some sustenance." He smiled and took out his cock and sent a spray of his piss up onto my face. Damn, if I didn't lick at it to get my voice going. I told them what I thought of them.

"Did she have any money on her?" the judge asked, walking into the cell. The Sheriff noted the two hundred dollars in a hidden part of my valise. "I fine you one hundred dollars to pay for your upkeep here in the jail, and another hundred dollars for the fines of vagrancy, slanderous talk, and quite frankly, you smell bad."

Not bad enough that he didn't spread my ass cheeks and put his cock up against my anus. I told him what a coward he was for taking a defenseless woman. He answered by grabbing my hair with one hand as he thrust hard into my ass. His fuck was not pleasing, but damn if I didn't get wet again, what with the sheriff and deputy holding my tits as I was bucked against the bars, and the drunk awake to cheer the judge-mayor-undertaker on. When he finished spilling inside me he departed, telling the sheriff to have me up to his office later on. The sheriff took his place inside my ass, and then the deputy. I just slumped there waiting for them to let the drunkard have his turn. But no such luck for the poor guy.

They brought me some food and I was allowed off the bars to eat. Then I was told to clean the jail cell. They gave me a bucket and my torn clothes as the rags. When I finished that, it was well after dark and I was allowed outside into the alleyway and taken over to the blacksmith. He hammered out a thin iron collar to go around my neck, got paid with a rather good fuck up my ass. Then the collar was chained and I was led through all the alleys up to the judge's house. I fell twice, only to be dragged a few feet before being hauled back up by firm grasps of my breasts.

I was thrown onto the floor before the judge as he sat at his writing desk. "You have a choice, young lady, thirty days in jail here, or back on the stage at noon. Going to write about us?" I shook my head, said I was sorry, and quite frankly, I hadn't had a real good look at the town to say anything bad about it anyway. The judge let me lick his boots and I was told to be on the noon stage. Then after I was allowed to be ass fucked by the judge I was led back to the jail cell and the sheriff finally got his cock into my pussy.

After that fuck he chained me back onto the bed with the chain down between my pussy lips to rub my pussy bud with every movement of my body as I tried to sleep. He did close the door to the cell to keep the deputy from coming in and taking any further liberties with me, while the drunk cursed them all for not getting any pussy for himself. He finally went to sleep, but I was awake for quite awhile.

As soon as I was away from their clutches, not only my publisher, but the territorial governor would be told of this abuse. But then I started thinking. Although they said I could leave on the noon stage, I was sure I wasn't going to be released that easily, just taking my word that I wouldn't write this up.

I must have gotten some sleep because there was light outside the cell window when I awoke. The deputy had put up a chair by the cell where he could get a good look at me sleeping with my legs wide. He was asleep as was the drunk. I started to move then was reminded of why my legs were spread, the damn chain was so tight I couldn't move a half inch without discomfort. I spent another half hour waiting that way, unable to move at all. Then the sheriff arrived with a tray of food. He kicked the deputy awake and told him to turn the drunk out into the street. Then he came into the cell and sat on the edge of the bed, forcing me to move just enough to have the chain cut into my pussy bud. He smiled and offered me some of the food on the tray. I refused although I was hungry.

"Nearly six o'clock, got six hours before the stage departs. What can we talk about until then?" He roamed one hand over my breasts as I simply glared back at him. I didn't want to give him any satisfaction at what he was doing, but the tugs on my nipples, and then the slap to my mound that moved the chain again and I just had to scream at him. He pushed a biscuit into my mouth, then moved his head down to lick all around the chain. The biscuit didn't keep me quiet for long and I told him exactly what I thought of him.

"You sure got a way with words. You must be a writer. What do you write about? Gardens and the parties of all the rich people?" I didn't answer and that got me a punch in the stomach. He undid the chain and yanked me by the collar onto the floor. I lay on my stomach and felt his boot on my shoulders, then my ass, and then the boot tip wiggling up against my pussy, raw from the chain. I moaned, because I couldn't help myself anymore. I was exhausted, beaten down by their humiliation, and also damnedly wanting a cock or fist inside me. He stepped on me as he departed the cell for his office. I took advantage to eat some of the scrambled eggs and biscuits before he returned.

I just stared at the bullwhip in his hand. He lifted me up and slapped my face and breasts several times, and I just stood there wavering, letting him do it. Then he took hold of the chain and hauled me out the back door into the alleyways again. He stopped in a section where the rear of three buildings formed a large triangle yard between them. He turned on me and let go with the whip with one hand while holding the chain up, causing the collar to lift my head.

I took the first slash against my thigh and yelped. The second came a little higher. I caught the third and fourth on my arms as I tried to fend the whips off. To no avail. He paused for a moment to come over and give me a punch in the stomach again. I almost threw up the little food I had eaten.

He tied my hands behind my back and then stuffed a piece of cloth into my mouth. I gagged and really wanted to throw up then but became too busy spinning around and trying to escape the whip. He criss-crossed my body with the whip, leaving red lines all along my outer thighs and ribs and ass cheeks. A flurry of short slaps with the coiled whip on my back dropped me to my knees. He wrapped my chest twice, leaving two lines across my breasts, the second one directly over my left nipple. I was aching and begging through the gag for him to stop, but I knew he had no intention of doing so. I was ordered to stand up, and with a slight respite from the attack I did so. Only to go right back down on my knees from the snap of the whip directly under my breasts. He slashed against my back and ass and I fell over into a mud puddle from a leaking water barrel, or rather a leaking piss barrel.

I looked up and saw a second story window open and a man's face looking out watching. At the rear of another store a man stood in the doorway smoking casually, as if this was an everyday occurrence. Whatever embarrassment I might have had the day before was gone now. The sheriff worked hard on my leg to get me to spread wide. Finally I did, and got the sting right up alongside my pussy. Another left an almost perfect upward line through my bush to the naval. I rolled over with one breast in the mud while my back and ass received a few more slashes. Then a moment's rest.

"If you want to rest your arm, I'll be glad to take over, Sheriff," one of the men offered.

"Mighty nice of you to offer, but I think she's just about done for the moment." And the Sheriff snapped the whip touching between my shoulders and up my neck almost the crown of my head. I lay there crying. What else could I do? He came over and booted me over onto my back.

The man at the doorway stepped back inside then reappeared. "Here, Sheriff." I watched as the long straw broom was handed over then use to whack the mud off my breast. I continued to cry. I was hauled back to the jail cell, this time by a hand gripping my hair, the two onlookers trailing behind talking to each other. I was shoved up on the cell bed, slumping forward. Time for me to suck cock, the Sheriff, the onlookers, and then the returning deputy. Then each returned rejuvenated enough to fuck my pussy. I just let them bend me the way they wanted and hoped the whole town wasn't invited. Then the onlookers had to go back and open up their businesses. The deputy was told to have the stage brought round back.

I just stared at the Sheriff as I sat on the floor, once more in a puddle, this one from an assortment of blood and come. He sat on the cell bed fondling my breasts. Now he was being gentle, running his fingers over the stripes he'd given me. "We promised we'd let you go. And we'll just do that. You're going to keep her promise?" I nodded. Odd how nice his massage of my breasts felt, almost forgetting all the aches and pains.

The whipping hadn't taken all that long, but the fuckings had. I was unchained and uncollared and led outside again in the opposite direction from the morning walk. I was shown the rear end of the stagecoach. A ledge extended out with good chains holding it. A canvas usually covered the bags that were placed here. This day I was sat down on the ledge, my arms tied up along the top of the chains, and then each leg was raised up and tied there too. I sat with my pussy fully open for view. The Sheriff put his fist up to me and I sure wanted him inside but he just gave me one last punch. "Gonna keep your promise?" I said yes and then was gagged.

"The next town is a hundred miles from here, got a few stage stops along the way. If I were you I'd not tell them you are a writer. Have a nice trip back to Philadelphia." And with that, the canvas covering was brought down, hiding me from view.

At each stop the canvas backing was raised up and I got to drink some water, and be fucked by whoever was there to enjoy me. The driver did not put down the canvas when we left the first station so I got a good red sunburn on my front side by time we reached the next real town. The stage let the regular passengers off and unloaded everything except me. Then the stage was backed into the station stop for the night. I suppose I was going to be left there but then right at sunset the canvas backing was lifted and this town's Sheriff stared at me.

"You a writer?"

I was given a bit of water to give a reply. "No, sir. A gambler." I thought it the better answer.

"We don't cotton to women gamblers here."