Episode 7: Many Moons

Stacy Puma had locked herself away all day long to sleep off her Reservation gangbang, just needing space by herself for once. In challenging that option, she shut her cell off, trying to avoid the world. The ride home from Iron Wolf was a quiet one. Xander was pretty freaked out about being drugged by her Godfather and local Sheriff Roland Moody. She was too. Yet, she was over it. She loved her Godfather regardless the fact he and some of her friends raped her. All they would have had to do was ask. Still, Roland did charge people online to watch her destruction and the paycheck was fucking impressive.

She had never been fucked by that many guys all at once. It was fun but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she would have done that on her own. Maybe Roland Moody had tried to open her mind more. All she knew was she needed to get on birth control really soon. As in many moons ago. One false step and she would be contemplating baby names. She especially like the name “Nada!”. NADA CHANCE PUMA sounded perfect.

The one true reality was that she had earned almost ten grand since she began her webcam shows. Last night’s show unknowingly put her on the map. Outside of the gangbang at Wolf Call’s her shows were tame, mostly public exhibition. She was quickly realizing that sex shows made her more money therefore the Puma would consider expanding her shows to include more of that. If she did though she swore to herself that it had to not be the same thing over and over. Variety was the spice of life.

Looking at the digital clock next to her bed she inhales deeply and puffs her cheeks. Wide awake at 2:00 in the morning. Her warm beaver blanket was comfy. Pillows cushy. Yet, her sleep was over. Now she was bored as hell staring at shadows on the ceiling. She didn’t want to get online or watch TV. She had showered twice since Iron Wolf. Ate a frozen lasagna microwaved for excellence. Hydrated with lots of bottled water to override the booze in her system.

What was left? Pounding her pillow silly, she sits up in bed and looks out her sole window. It was a full moon out. With a shake of her head to clear the cobwebs she howled like she had all of the night before. Rolling her eyes at no returned howls she got up and lit her daily cigarette. Stepping out onto the backyard staircase into the cool summer breeze coming off the mountains. Hair whipping about with soft gusts, her exhaled nicotine gagged her in refusing to leave her lips. Tapping the dangled ashes into an empty beer bottle to save her leftover Vagina Slim as she called it, the naked as ever Apache goddess simply stared off into the night.

Taking a new drag off of her waning Virginia Slim before it went out, she heard a door open, holding her breath to listen for movement. Someone was in the garage below her attic apartment. Narrowed eyes awaited further hints of activity until she hears the muffled sounds of punching. At this hour? Was Griffin home from work? He was normally on patrol during this time of day. Deciding to investigate she crept down her staircase flicking the cashed cigarette toward her outdoor shower stall where the concrete was still moist. Shuffling along toward the side door she looks in, the light dim from a single bulb dangling from the ceiling.

“Bree?” She opens the door to see her future sister-in-Law jabbing at the large punching bag on a chain hooked to a rafter.

Startled, the almost too thin redhead halts her next strike, “Hey! Did I wake you?”

“YES! WHAT THE FUCK BREE!” She aimed to make Bree feel lousy then just as quickly lightened up with a smirk, “Naaa! Just lazy! Why are you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Figured this might tire me out until Griffin gets home.”

“Working separate shifts has to suck.”

“It does. But it gives us the space we need to keep our relationship strong.”

“I couldn’t handle a real relationship. I’m happy being me.”

“You know. I bet if you tried you might like it. It has its rewards.” Bree taps her shoulder with her fist playfully.

Stacy sneered at her, “You do realize I could kick your ass, right?”

Bree offers an expression of “Oh, really?”

“I’ve boxed with Griffin before, ever since I was fourteen. I know how to fight.”

Bree throws her hands up, “So have I. He’s taught me how to defend myself pretty well.”

“Right! Police training. Even for a Dispatcher. You have a better chance of beating me if you hurled your badge against my forehead like a Ninja throwing star and knocked me out.”

“Want to spar?” Bree again nudges her with her left fist this time. Pushy pussy!

Eying her with a pissed off look Stacy puckers, “On one condition.”

“What’s your wager?”

“First girl on the floor loses. If I beat, you then you go streaking with me right after.”

“Streaking? Stacy, I’m a Cop. I could get fired if I get caught.”

“I knew you were a chicken shit.”

“Alright! If I win you act like a lady more often. You wear clothes more often, even to bed. No more exhibition that will inevitably get you arrested too.”

“Ohhh! So, you get a long term and I get a couple hours. Okay! I’ll bite. But when you lose you can’t wear clothes at home or on the property for a month. If I lose, I’ll wear clothes a month. Deal?”

“What would Griffin think if I started doing that? Come on.”

“He might fuck you in the front yard. This might improve that baby making scheme you got cooking.”

Hesitant Bree knew that Stacy was a fighter. But she felt rambunctious. Holding her breath Bree compromises pointing a gloved fist at her.

“One week, not a month.”

“I’ll settle for that.” Stacy shrugs.

Nodding with a sneer Bree moves into a fighting pose, “What you got?” Bree tosses her a second pair of boxing gloves. Stacy nodded, putting them on using her teeth to help regain a proper fit.

“That’s the spirit, Ginger.”

“Let’s go, Mary Ann.” Bree hops about. “It’s high time I smothered that banana cream pie in your face.”

“No pigtails today but I caught on to the theme. Are you saying I should shut my pie hole?”

Stacy tightened her gloves with a devilish grin then taps her fists together with a menacing sneer. From there the dance began, Bree embracing that sneer with a glint of confidence. Casual taps are blocked by Stacy as the fiery Ginger tried for intimidation, jabbing with a dead serious expression. Surprisingly, Bree wasn’t easily spooked. Although not a mean bone in her body the lanky but luscious redhead concentrated on her opponent. She was determined to win. Just the thought of making Stacy wear clothing against her wishes made her determined to employ defeat.

Puma ran her own scenario through her head. She wanted to piss off Griffin for forcing her hormones to have sex with him. Incest was never on her radar but after he took her upstairs the way he did, that notion of again constantly plagued her temptations. All for the sake of not letting her viewers down. That was one rule she forged when considering her new career. To get the word out there that she refused nobody. She had only one airtight rule. No animals. That just plain freaked her out.

By beating Bree and not letting her renege on her wager would put a strain on her and Griffin. She knew well that Griffin was a stickler for upholding rules, unless they were his own. He was dirty that way. Anyone else though would keep their word or he would put up a wall.

“Getting sloppy there, Ginger Dodgers. I could have knocked you out cold there. Keep your left hand higher to block your pretty little pale face.”

“Watch your own pretty little Pow Wow face. Fat lips will ruin that flirty smile you got going.”

“Worse for you. The Cops will think Griffin beat your ass.”

“He would never do that.”

“Who’s known him longer? You or me?” Stacy infiltrates.

Bree let her guard down hearing Stacy. The Apache Princess took immediate action. A right hook straight to Bree’s left cheek. The impact made Bree edgy, reacting with a step back to shake off the impact. She knew Stacy was only trying to get her thoughts on other things. Griffin would never hurt her. Would he? He was Apache. They were known for short tempers. A few of those tantrums had already been experienced since they had met, furthered their relationship, and spoke of marriage someday. Whenever Griffin finally asked her daddy for her hand that is.

“Full moon Bree. Ready to run with the Puma? You’re so pale you might glow in the dark.” Bree smirks and swings, jabbing Stacy in the shoulder.

“I might have to buy you some new clothes to wear. I bet you would look great in a pants suit. All business like. Maybe even a turtleneck.”

“You and Griffin ever get married, you can bet on the only thing I’ll be wearing is your veil and holding a bouquet over my hot little cunt.” Bree dropped her jaw; she knew Stacy was serious.

“You wouldn’t ruin our wedding day. You love us.” Stacy stops cold and holds her gloves over her snatch like a bouquet.

“Dearly Beloved! Who takes this Apache Bride to be their awfully naked all the time, Slut? To have and to hold down, to pull her hair and spank her sweet ass over and over. Until done with her holes do they part?” Stacy recites pouting.

“You’re a piece of work Stacy.” Bree sneers trying to strike her. Stacy merely steps aside then returns to her wedded pose.

“He does. So does he. Look at all of those groomsmen waiting to sniff my sweet bouquet. I DO! I DO! IDO!”

“Glad I won’t be coming to your wedding.” Bree huffs missing again.

“Never getting hitched. No worries!”

“Here I thought that cute guy in the Pathfinder might be a good match for you.”

“Xander? Not my type. I told you that.”

“So, why date him? Trying to bleed his bank account before you dump him?”

“I don’t need his money. Besides, he’s living off of a college grant. Finishing his Masters.”

“Sounds like a good catch to me.” The dancing resumes.

“So, dump my brother, I’ll set you and Xander up.” Stacy chuckles.

“I love Griffin.” Stacy swings inside, tapping Bree’s chin. The move made Bree rub her chin on her wrist with a narrowed uptight glint in her eye. Having told Bree her vows, Stacy felt badly suddenly. Masked by her expressionless attitude she pondered her own words. Griffin had been in the back of her mind ever since they had sex on webcam. She wasn’t prepared for the feelings of that outcome. Her brother was a beast. A damned good-looking beast. So was Xander, in his own way. She missed him. Not! Well, maybe a little. She was indecisive.

Their battle raged on, clip after clip, blow for blow, they had certainly worked up a sweat. Stacy’s natural American Indian tan was glossy and beautiful, also distracting. Bree although not into women did admire the shimmer all over the warrior cunts flesh. It was so stunning. DAMMIT!!!

TKO!

Stacy landed a blow that dropped Bree to her ass. In awe the redhead slaps her boxing glove on the concrete, cursing up a storm for letting her guard down. Stacy Puma did her Apache victory dance all around the garage, chanting as her ancestors might, titties bouncing madly and proud.

“You suck, Puma.” Bree stands up slowly, dizzy from the punch to her chin. Her cheek tender from the impact. Stinging even! She prayed the blow didn’t inflict a bruise.

“Knew that all along. I suck and suck hard.” Stacy wags her tongue while dancing about in her native swagger. She enjoyed using her heritage as a show. Even if she did in a sense become racist of her own nationality. That was allowed in her tribe!

Bree stands tall stretching her back. Her chest pointing out in all of their exhilarated vigor. She might only have had a 34C set of tits, but they were shapely and perky at the moment. Untethering her gloves, she peels them off to flex her fingers for circulation.

“You got lucky.” She frowned at Stacy.

“Lucky? Always do.” She chuckles and shakes her tits at Bree.

“Does every thought you have need to be sexual?”

“I’m a slut. That’s what we do.”

“Well, I’m not. You can say what you want but I’m going to go drown in chocolate milk. Me thirsty.”

“Great! Let’s go.” Stacy grabs her by the arm, “We can walk six blocks East to the Quickie Mart, and I’ll buy you one fresh.”

Bree narrows her eyes, “I don’t need to go there, I have milk in my fridge.”

“Oh, no! You lost that bet Sister. Strip and let’s Spirit Walk.”

Sneering at her Bree shakes her head, “Cops get donuts and coffee from that convenient store. Besides, I don’t think the Pakistani owners want to see two nude girls walk into their store. Remember their women wear clothing head to toe.”

“Good thing we’re not their women then.” Gloves cast aside the Puma’s paws were catty, fighting with Bree until her shirt is tugged over her arms and beautiful red hair, curls sweaty but stunning. Standing up as Stacy tosses the yellow muscle shirt onto the barbell bench next to them, Stacy winces. “Those nipples get any pinker I’m going to call Sanrio and warn them Hello Kitty just quit and moved to Denver.”

“Not funny!” Bree covers her chest with folded arms. Struggling against Stacy’s advances Bree finds her shorts on the concrete. Forced to go commando herself, Bree stood blushing.

“Dang! That snatch needs some red fur to liven your white ass up. I didn’t know Griffin scalped ya.”

“I shave it because I like it smooth. Stop looking at it.” Bree shivers and attempts to her check herself out. A faint caress of her fingertip over her clit the Ginger hissed.

“Let’s get going. I need to stop by an ATM for cash.”

“Wait! What? ATM’s have cameras.”

“So,” Stacy smirks, “Be right back, running up for my debit card. Don’t you dare bail on me.”

As Stacy races away Bree at least shuts the light off in the garage to hide. In minutes, Stacy returns with her wallet. Seeing the light out she sneaks up on the nervous Bree from the side of the garage. Dancing in step Bree feels Stacy grab her ass cheeks digging in her nails. The redhead screamed loudly.

“You bitch.”

“Takes one to show one, Gingerbread.”

“Uggggggggghhh!” Bree groaned regaining her composure as Stacy left her behind to step out into the street. Looking both ways she shrugged before throwing her hands to her sides.

“No cars. Let’s go.” Squealing, Bree still in her shoes, no socks slowly shuffled out to join Stacy. Stacy then takes her by the hand. Using her other hand to smack Bree’s arm from hiding her body.

“God! I hate you.” Bree shivers uncontrollably.

“At least you’re a woman of your word. I swear I would have honored the bet if you had won.”

“Might need a rematch to prove that theory.” Bree whispers.

Stacy giggles, “Anytime you want Annie CHOKEley.” Oakley!

“Annie Oakley? Why her?”