**Paquita’s Bad Day on the Prairie**

I’d been running for hours when the horses finally caught up. My legs burned, my breath came in ragged gasps, and the dry prairie wind stung my sunburnt face. The bastards had been hunting me since I lifted that damn gold from the stagecoach. Stupid me—should’ve known a lone woman on the frontier would stick out like a sore thumb. Now, the six of them had me cornered, their grimy hands dragging me down into the tall grass, their laughter rough and mean.

“Look what we got here,” one of them sneered, his grip tight on my wrist. “Little thief thinks she can just take what she wants.”

“Maybe she’s just real good at takin’ things,” another chuckled, his fingers already yanking at my trousers. I kicked, twisted, but there were too many. Hands clamped down on my arms, my legs, pulling my clothes apart like I was nothing but a sack of grain.

The first one—tall, with a scar down his cheek—leaned in, his breath hot and sour. “You got two choices, sweetheart. Die slow, or spread them pretty legs and take what’s comin’. Might even let you walk away after.”

Like hell I believed that. But I wasn’t ready to die.

So I stopped fighting.

The second I went slack, they were on me. My shirt ripped open, my tits spilling free, nipples hardening in the cool evening air. The men groaned, pawing at me like starved dogs. I bit back a scream as dirty fingers pinched and twisted my nipples, another hand shoving down my pants, baring my cunt to the open sky.

“Fuck, she’s already wet,” one of them laughed, two fingers shoving inside me without warning. I gasped, my hips jerking as he curled them deep, rubbing that spot that made my thighs shake despite myself.

“Spread her,” the leader growled, and rough hands yanked my legs apart. The first cock was out before I could blink—thick, veiny, already leaking. He spat in his palm, smeared it over his length, then lined up against my pussy.

No warning. No mercy.

He slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust, my back arching as my cunt stretched around him. I gasped, the pain sharp and sudden, but the bastard just groaned like I was the best thing he’d ever had. “Tighter’n a damn glove,” he panted, pulling back before driving in again, his hips smacking against my ass.

The others cheered, jostling each other for their turn. One grabbed my hair, forcing my head back as another shoved his cock into my mouth. I choked, saliva dripping down my chin as he fucked my face, his balls slapping against me with every thrust.

The one in my pussy came first, his grip bruising on my hips as he emptied himself inside me with a ragged groan. I barely had time to recover before the next man shoved his dick in, still wet from the last guy’s cum. My pussy ached, but the sick shame of it made my body clench around him, drawing a curse from his lips.

“Fuckin’ loves it,” someone muttered, and a hand snaked between my legs, fingers rubbing my clit hard. I whimpered, my body betraying me as pleasure twisted through the pain. The bastard in my cunt laughed, his thrusts turning rougher.

“C’mon, whore, let’s hear you.”

I didn’t want to. But when the third man took his turn, his cock thicker than the rest, the stretch burned so good I couldn’t stop the moan that tore from my throat. They took that as permission—hands everywhere, cocks in my mouth, my cunt, one even pressing against my ass, spitting before forcing his way in.

I came like that, impaled on both ends, my body shaking as they used me. The leader leaned down, his mouth on my ear. “That’s it, take it like a good little thief.”

They didn’t let me walk away.

But I didn’t die either.

And when I finally crawled out of that prairie at dawn, my cunt sore and leaking, my clothes in tatters, I made myself a promise.

Next time, I’d be the one holding the gun.