Message-ID: <59435asstr$1254305409@assm.asstr.org>
From: Shon Richards <shonrichards@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Mars Needs Texans" 
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Date: Wed, 30 Sep 2009 06:10:09 -0400
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<1st attachment, "MarsNeedsTexans.doc" begin>

This erotic story was written by me, Shon Richards.  Please do
not reprint on your website, blog, love letters to your lover etc
without asking me first.  I have yet to refuse a reprint but
let's just be polite about it, okay?

You can write to me at shonrichards at yahoo.com.  I will be
delighted to hear your comments.

Find out what I am up to at http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com/
as well as read my more current work. 


"Mars needs Texans"
By Shon Richards


It was a hot summer night in eighteen sixty something.  The small
town of Reddirt was asleep except for the good for nothings and
loose women at the only saloon in town, 'The Whiskey Dame'. 
Those rough men and softer women were carrying on with their sins
of gambling, whoring and frequent taking of the Lord's name in
vain.  Some people say that the terrible sins they were
committing was what got the attention of the damn invaders in the
first place.

The first we heard of our weird encounter was a loud CRACK in the
sky like God letting off a fart.  Good people awoke from their
bed and went outside while not-so good people tore themselves
from their drinking, whoring and gambling to see what the fuss
was about.  The whole town of Reddirt came out and we all saw the
damnest thing.

It was like a giant silver mining pan, except it was spinning in
the air.  Bright yellow and red lights shimmered off the Flying
Pan like gold dust in water.  The strange contraption flew over
us and landed right in the middle of the street!  Well, it didn't
exactly land.  It just sort of hovered there, like the way Madam
Dixie Blossoms's tits hang in the air when she jumps.  

Anyway, a door opened up in the flying Pan and out walked the
strangest fucking critters you had veer seen.   There were a
dozen of them.  They were four feet tall, and they had big giant
brains on the outside of their heads.  Worse than that, they were
green!  Now I lost a brother to the red man's arrow once, and I
lost a sister to a black man's cock once, but I had no idea just
how awful a green man could be.

"Puny human scum!" the leader of the green men yelled.  "We have
come to take you to our slave mines. Your males will process ore
while your females will serve as pets!  Drop your weapons now and
proceed into the ship!"

Right about then I knew these fellows were from out of town.  You
see, ain't nobody going to tell a Texan that he's going to be a
miner and he sure as hell ain't going to let his women be some
sort of pet.  The good and bad men of Reddirt didn't even have to
talk about it.  All at once, they drew their sidearms and we were
about to have a bloodbath.

But here was the thing.  The green men drew *faster*. Quick as a
virgin in his first saloon girl, those Green Men whipped out
these funny looking guns and fired at us.  Instead of bullets,
strange purple light came out of the pistols.  All twelve green
men drew and lickity split, they had shot all thirty four of the
armed menfolk.

Now that sounds like a massacre, don't it?  But listen here, when
those purple beams hit the menfolk, it's didn't punch a hole
through them.  No, each man that was hit got this big ole smile
on their faces and they shuddered and shook.  Their pistols fell
to the ground and the men fell to their knees as helpless as
babes.  I saw grandpa fell right into a nap right there on the
street.  

You see, those light beams had somehow made their bodies react as
if they had just gotten to know someone in a biblical way.  Or be
a little crude, the light beams made their bodies shoot their
loads in their pants.  

Now, Greg 'Mountainman' Daunders got right back up.  He was six
feet tall and all muscle.  He was breathing hard and his gun hand
was shaky, but a man's man like him wasn't going to let one
little moment of joy slow him down.  

That shot his poor ass six times before he fell back into the
dirt.  They say that it took him three months to get his pants
clean again.

Things were looking a bit bad at this point.  The menfolk had
came and went if you get my meaning.  The very shameful nature of
the green man's weapons made the more decent folk hesitate.  They
didn't want to be slaves and pets but Jesus Christ and his boy
Peter, no one wanted to be so rudely violated by the strange
weapons.

Except for one girl.  Texanah weren't like the other gals who
worked at the saloon.  Some women become whores cause they needed
the money.  Some women become whores because they have no
families.  Some women become whores cause they were raised
Catholic.  Texanah was different. She was a whore because she
told people she liked it.  Imagine that, a woman who liked sex! 


Texanah had a fine body for her profession.  She had breasts as
big as cowboy hat with nipples the size of a sheriff's badge. 
Her ass was so plump she didn't need a saddle to ride a horse. 
She had long curly blonde hair the color of river gold with lips
that could suck the red out of an Indian.  There wasn't a
prettier whore in the entire valley.

So Texanah, who by the way was named that by her immigrant
parents cause they loved Texas so much, she wasn't having any of
this nonsense.  She picked up old Felseworth's Smith and Wesson
and aimed it right at the Green Men.

"Ain't nobody making a pet of me without paying first!" she
yelled.  

Before she could squeeze off a single shot, one of the Green Men
shot her with his light gun.  PHEW! That purple beam hit Texanah
right between her Grand Tetons!  Texanah shook, shuddered and
then gave off an unlady like scream.  It sounded almost happy.

"Yee-haw!" she yelled.  Then she shot the Green Man right between
his big yellow eyes.

"That all you got?" Texanah said.

Those Green Men started firing all crazy at her.  PHEW! PHEW! Two
beams struck her right in the hidden valley between her legs. 
Texanah's knees shook.

"Yee-haw! I could get to like that!" she yelled.   While the
Green Men looked at her all stupid, she returned fire.  BAM! BAM!
And there were two more dead Green Men.  

"Pick up guns!" Texanah yelled.  "We outnumber them!"

Some of the womenfolk tried.  Ellie Smith, the school teacher,
picked up a rifle.  One of the Green Men shot her and she ran
screaming from the town.  Rumor has it she took up with a Navajo
tribe.  One of the other whores, Pauline Lantick, took one purple
beam and fainted right there in the street.  It was almost like
if a woman could come like a man.  No one else was brave enough
to try,

That didn't slow Texanah none.  She grabbed a second pistol and
was firing away like a cavalryman.  The Green Men always hit
first but Texanah didn't mind.  In fact, she started to wait till
they did hit her with their sin inducing beams before she would
plug another in their big green heads.  Texanah kept moaning and
screaming the whole time.  She even started taking off some of
her clothes, as if daring them to take better shots.  Some of the
men folk say she did that to scare the enemy but I don't know. 
Texanah was smiling a bit too much.

After Texanah killed half of them, the Green Men went back into
their Flying Pan and flew off.  Texanah kept firing.  We reckon
those Green Men went to go pick on easier prey like Boston or
Deadwood.  The women took their men home and pretended it never
happened.  The few women who were struck by purple beams were
taken home and given cold baths.  

The next day, everyone went to church and it wasn't even a
Sunday.  The preacher warned about the Devil testing us and how
demons come in all shapes and sizes.  We all said our amens and
promised to live better lives before going back to 'The Whiskey
Dame' for more courage.

As for Texanah, well, she was never the same.  She tried to hang
around but she said things were just too dull.  One of the women
at the saloon said that Texanah had one of those weird light guns
and that she shot herself with it every night.   We could hear
Texanah yelling her head off at the oddest hours. 

Maybe that gun ran out of juice because one day, Texanah was
gone. She had packed her bags and traded Charlie the blowjob of
his life for a horse.  We hear stories now and then about her,
riding the West and riding whatever she comes across.  Maybe if
something strange happens to your town, Texanah can help you like
she helped us.  Or least give you a good handjob for your
troubles.  

The end.

If you enjoyed this story please drop me a line at shonrichards
at yahoo.com.
Or visit my blog at http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com/




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