Burt's new position is one he doesn't like...
I hope you enjoy the next installment.
Chapter 2
Burt rested his bound arms against the cavern wall behind him.
He looked around taking in his surroundings, and sizing up his captors.
There were six people in the cavern with him.
There was the cook who was off to one side, he resumed preparing dinner after the action had subsided. He never showed interest in Burt even while the others were fighting him, perhaps an ally if Burt needed one.
There was the leader, an old scrawny man. His bald head a stark contrast to his full white beard. He was by far the weakest, but he had by far the most years of outlawing in the band. His clothes were just as old as he was, tattered and worn. He was tending to the gunshot wound he had inflicted on Ricky.
Ricky was one of the young’uns. He seemed slightly more built than the other two. But the injury surely made him less of a threat.
The other two young outlaws were huddled around Ricky, watching, wincing and commenting on everything ‘Old Pops’, as they called him, did. They were not much, Burt could take them with one arm tied behind his back. Unfortunately both arms were tied behind his back.
Then there was the lasso guy. He was every bit more of an outlaw than the other four. His body looked better fed, he was better clothed. He was definitely one of Red Rogers men, the others were just hired guns. He was sitting a few feet away from Burt, watching every single twitch that ‘The Roper’ made. If he didn’t like a movement the six shooter was pulled out with alarming speed.
Burt couldn’t really rely on his body right now, he was tied up. The bonds felt slightly weak, but he couldn’t really tell, with hot stuff sitting right across from him he hadn’t had time to really test the bonds.
Burt would have to rely on his mouth for now.
“How much?” mumbled Burt.
The man’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.
“How much does Red pay you to do his dirty work?”
The outlaw kept a steely gaze locked onto Burt, not falling for his trap.
Burt raised his voice loud enough for the rag tag outlaws to hear him, “How much does Red pay you to break the law? I bet it’s double what you are giving these experienced gunmen.”
The old man looked over. Burt had a glimpse of hope but it was shot down instantly, with the white beard moving up and down as Old Pops laughed. He shouted back, “We aint workin fer coins, we workin for fun. An we aint experienced for horse shit.”
He walked over, leaving Ricky and the other young boys to fuss over his wound.
“Yous can take a walk Slick. I’ll watch the Roper fer ya.”
Slick looked at the old man, and grumbled, rubbing his temples.
Burt was right there was friction, he was just barking up the wrong tree with the money question.
He was soon going to be alone with the old man. Perfect time to work on sowing some discord with his words.
Burts plan was snuffed as Slick walked up to him and using his foot pulled Burt away from the wall and pushed him onto his front in the dust.
Slick was on him in a jiff and Burt felt his ankles being pulled up to his wrists. Slick gave the rope a yank and placed his boot on Burt’s legs forcing Burt’s spurred ankles into his ass, before tying the knot down. Burt was pulled back uncomfortably with the tight hogtie. Slick then added more rope to Burt’s wrists for insurance.
As Slick walked away he grumbled to Old Pop’s, “Gag him Pop’s. This’un has a big mouth.”
Old Pops’ mouth spread into a grin, revealing some missing teeth.
Burt wanted to protest but was able to compose himself not granting his captor any delight.
“You made me shoot my own grand kid you good fer nuthin bounty sack.” As Old Pop’s said this he walked closer and plunged his hand into his pants and scratched his crotch.
He squatted before Burt and smelled his fingers, “That’s the smell of an old Pop. You Roper are gonna have a tough life.”
Old Pop’s pulled the faded blue bandanna that was resting around his neck off. He pushed it into his pants and rubbed his crotch into it.
Burt pulled a slight face trying to hide his disdain but he didn’t manage.
“That’s right boy. Yous gonna taste an old man.” With that he pulled the bandanna out and placed it over Burts lower face.
Burt got the first breath of stinky old man crotch, and he felt his stomach turn over. The normal musty scent of man was combined with an old dusty scent and some other foul smell Burt had never smelled before.
For the first time Burt didn’t care about the façade he was holding up, he pulled his head away, and felt his wrists tug at their rope prison, causing his ankles to pull closer and his knees to bend. He couldn’t get away.
“Hahahaha. I made ‘im squirm” shouted Pop’s to the others. The younger outlaws, Tommy and the other one, walked over joining into Pops’ laughter as they watched Burt struggle to get away from the smell.
Burt felt his emotions take over, he no longer had the calm, cool and collected appearance. He thrashed at his bonds again, moving only inches away from the putrid bandanna.
“You boys do that too, common quick.”
The boys followed Old Pops’ instruction taking their bandannas off and rubbing their crotches with it.
“Good Tommy.” said Old Pop’s as he took the bandanna from the boy. “Now open up Roper. Hahaha.” He was having such a good time.
Burt was having the worst time. He held his mouth shut, but it didn’t last long, the two young men jumped on him, one placing his head in a vicelike grip the other prying his mouth open.
Old Pop’s forced the rancid bandanna into his mouth and Burt tasted the scents he was smelling the past few minutes. It was horrid. In that split second he almost felt sorry for the ones who he had gagged in the past using similar material. But they deserved it, he didn’t.
Tommy’s bandanna was pulled between Burt’s teeth and tied behind his head, keeping Old Pops’ bandanna safe and sound in Burt’s mouth.
“Now yers, Bobby.” Old Pop’s took the red bandanna and folded it up, placing it over Burt’s already gagged mouth. “Git me Ricky’s” Pop’s instructed Bobby.
The last bandanna, a grey one, was also tied around Burt’s head covering his nose and mouth.
Burt tried to let out a protest but his words were reduced to only a slight muffle.
“Mmmmpphhh” He closed his eyes, pulling on his inner strength to get him through the next moments, as he breathed in he smelled and tasted the mixed body scents of four men. If he needed to identify each one to save his life he would fail miserably.
The smells and tastes combined to for a foul tasting concoction.
When Burt opened his eyes, Slick was crouching in front of him.
“Good job Pop’s. I know exactly what’s needed.” Slick pulled off his own black bandanna, and proceeded to tie it around Burt’s head, blindfolding him effectively.
The Roper, once again lost to his emotions and wanted to go into a frantic struggle but the second he put pressure on the ropes binding his wrists, he felt it.
A slight give.
He immediately composed himself and decided to wait it out.
He knew he could get free, all he needed was an inch of freedom, and his training would take over from there.
Now it was a waiting game. Once his captors were all asleep or out, he could free himself and get his revenge.
But the wait would be long and tortuous with that putrid taste and smell he was experiencing.