Mummy & Daddy’s Naughty Diary (Erotica)

As I walked in camp I heard a ruckus. First, I thought it was just a couple of men getting into a fight. That was a common enough event during this journey. As I got closer I discovered it was a different matter altogether.

Gretchen was lying prone on the ground crying. Lying on top of her was Willi trying to protectively cover his sister. On top of Willi was Megan, huddling defensively as a man lashed her bare back with a riding crop.

Megan’s ripped blouse lay on the ground besides her. The torn fabric was intermeshed with blood. The same blood pouring from lashes drawn across her back as the crazed man continued to strike her over and over.

Preacher Jeffers reared back and delivered another lash as he moved to the side to strike Willi and Gretchen. His stroke found Willi’s ribs, and the boy winced from the pain as he continued to protect his sister.

“God damns all Papists!” Jeffers thundered as he delivered Willi another stroke of the bloody crop. Jeffers moved again to find flesh untainted from the riding crop. There was another strike on Megan as she screamed in pain.

God damns the Whores of Babylon that serves the Papists!” Jeffers delivered another lash as he declared, “God has anointed me as His Avenger to punish the Spawns of Hell!

Kate screamed in protest as Meagan arched her back in reaction to another painful lash. Kate couldn’t intervene because Mike the Pimp was holding her to prevent her from aiding her friend. She fought Mike, trying to break free but it was no use because he was too strong for her.

The rest of the crowd was yelling in objection but William Cutler held them at bay holding a shotgun threatening to kill the first person that interfered. I couldn’t risk firing a shot in the back of Cutler. Not because I had any moral concern of shooting an unsuspecting man in the back, but because my shot might miss and hit someone in the crowd.

I drew my gun, ran across to Cutler and clubbed him with the heavy pistol on the back of the head just as Mike the Pimp shouted a warning to him. Cutler dropped stunned to his knees and the angry crowd rushed and disarmed him of the shotgun. Then they swarmed Mike the Pimp and rescued Kate.

They left the unsuspecting Jeffers to me.

The crazed preacher was reaching to strike his helpless victims again when I turned him around and stuck him in the face with my pistol. He staggered back holding his arms out to protect himself. I moved inside the range of his arms and struck him again with the pistol. Blood spurted from his cheek.

He screamed, trying to retreat from the onslaught. The angry crowd pushed him back to face me. He began to whine, begging me not to hit him. I responded by launching a haymaker with my pistol that caught him flush on the mouth.

His lips split open from the painful blow. It chipped his front teeth, and now the nerve exposed to the air caused him agony as he began to cry. Still, he begged me and still I continued to methodically pistol-whip him till he barely resembled anything human.

As I reared back to hit the defenseless man again, my hand was stopped. Herman Kohrs looked at me with concern as he calmly said, “He’s had enough, Zeb.”

“The hell he has!” I growled trying to free my arm.

“No, Zeb. He’s had enough.” Herman tried to rationally convince me. “You don’t want to kill him.”

“The hell I don’t!”

“I’m banishing him, Mike, and Cutler from the wagon train,” Herman pronounced.

“The hell you are! Fetch me my bullwhip! I’ll kill every one of the fuckers!” I ranted.

“Zeb, you don’t want their blood on your hands.” Herman continued to try to get me to see reason.

I looked Herman directly in the eyes. “Herman, you have no idea how much blood is on my hands.” I coldly stated. “These three sorry fuckers won’t make that much difference.”

Herman threw his last argument at me.

“Zeb, you’re scaring Megan and the kids.”

At the mention of their names, I instinctively looked over to them. Still huddled on the ground clinching each other they all had frightened faces of seeing a side of my character they never expected existed.

My anger instantly dissipated at the thought of causing them hurt. I fumbled my pistol back into the holster. I took a solitary step towards them hoping they’d forgive my homicidal rage they had witnessed with their own eyes.

I reached an arm out in supplication. Willi and Gretchen ran to me crying and wrapped their arms around me. I stood there consoling them as best I could as I kissed the top of their heads.

I moved to Megan still on the ground looking at me in hopeful anticipation. The angry red welts on her torso and the still bloody lashes on her back remained exposed to all.

Despite being topless, I had little interest in studying her exquisite tits just then. My concern was to get her away from this place so I could tend to her. I carefully picked her up; trying not to injure her any more than she already suffered and carried her to my tent.

She held her arms around me and buried her head to my side as I walked. I told Willi to find me a jug of moonshine. He ran to comply with the request. Gretchen walked by my side, grasping the side of my blue jeans, in need of a physical connection as she watched Megan in concern.

We walked Megan to my tent. I told Gretchen to stay outside. I carried Megan inside and gingerly placed her on a cot. She continued to cry and moan from the pain. I studied the scarring across her back, Megan kept her head cast down away from my view.

The tent flap opened and Kate came in with two bottles. One, was the bottle of moonshine I requested. The other was a bottle of salve to treat the wounds. Kate said that the Kohrs would be taking care of Willi and Gretchen while Megan recuperated. Kate then left me alone with Megan.

I took the bottle of nearly pure alcohol and told Megan to drink as much as she could stand. Megan would take a gulp and then grimace, concentrating to keep the drink down. She continued to imbibe while she explained what happened.

“When you left to go fishing, a lady came by and gave Gretchen a small gold crucifix as thanks for returning her husband’s money that he lost at the poker game. I didn’t think anything about it as I put the necklace on Gretchen and admired it.

We were walking through camp and Preacher Jeffers saw us. When he spotted the necklace, he went crazy, calling Gretchen a minion of Satan, and he struck her with his riding crop. I slapped him and he struck me. Willi charged him and tried to fight him, and he hit Willi.

Then he went on a rampage, trying to beat Gretchen with the riding crop. Willi fell on top of her to defend her and take the blows. I came back at him and he grabbed my blouse and ripped it right off, while he lashed me over and over. I dropped on top of Willi and then you came to our rescue,” she hiccupped.

“Megan, I don’t mean to hurt you, but I have to put alcohol on your wounds or they’ll get infected. It’s going to hurt bad,” I warned.

Megan nodded and braced herself for the pain that was coming. I poured moonshine liberally on my kerchief and then gently began dabbing Megan’s wounds.

She continued to jerk and flinch when the alcohol made contact. She moaned her pain and I spoke in a low calm matter trying to console her. I ordered her to keep drinking the moonshine hoping it would anesthetize some of the hurt.

I applied the salve, dipping a finger in the gel and tracing over the welts. Megan began trembling at my touch. I thought how I had longed to touch Megan, and now under circumstances I wish I hadn’t.

“I wish you knew how I been wanting you to touch me, Zeb. I spent every night dreaming that you would touch me, hold me, kiss me, make love to me,” Megan slurred her tearful words as the moonshine took effect. I dressed the wounds with cotton gauze when Megan passed out. Then I sat vigil over her, ready to do whatever I needed to do to help the woman I loved.

Kate relieved me in the morning over my protests. Herman Kohrs’ wife came by with some soup for Megan. Slowly, I became aware that every woman that had disparaged Megan and Kate had now accepted them in friendship. There was a constant barrage of visitors assisting Megan’s needs. I was shunted to the side while Megan mended.

Herman Kohrs decided that the wagon train would need to spend an additional week in camp to continue the repairs on the wagons. That was all right by me. It allowed me to go hunt for much need supplies of meat to replenish our larder.

I was back fishing when she came to me. I was sitting on a large granite slab downstream from the waterfall, enjoying the residual heat of the rock. Megan sat by me and then nuzzled up to me.

“You look better,” I said with a lump in my throat.

“I feel better. I just had to get away and find you!” she said, looking up to me.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I dropped my fishing pole and by mutual unspoken consent we moved together and kissed. We continued kissing. I was conflicted because I really wanted to touch her and caress her body but I didn’t want to cause her pain from her injuries. Megan decided that issue when she took my hands and placed them on her tits. She watched my face to see how I would respond.

I began to softly rub and squeeze those glorious mounds. She brought her arms around me and pulled me tight to her. “Make love to me,” she gasped.

Our passion continued to mount as I furious kissed her and nuzzled her neck. I gently bit her earlobe, and a soft moan of pleasure erupted from her. I moved my position, my hands eased her legs open and I stroked them.