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Red Dead Redemption 2: At the Aberdeen's Pig Farm.	By : Nickamano Category: +M through R > Red Dead Redemption Views: 8719 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Red Dead Redemption 2 and any related materials are not owned by me. This was created for entertainment purposes only, and I am not profiting financially from the creation of this story.

Chapter List
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Part two.
Bray was still seated at the head of the table and still grinning incessantly when Arthur reached the bottom of the stairs.
"She'll be down in a minute." He muttered.
"Woohoo! That is what I like to hear!" Bray sang. "Hey, now, pull up a chair partner!"
Arthur did so, wondering if his erection was obvious and if there was a pre-cum damp patch. He was glad to have the table under him to conceal his bulging crotch. Bray was still going on all the while. Happy as a virgin after finishing-school.
"That's it. Yeah, just settle in. Make yourself at home."
Still suspicious; though his horniness had thoroughly got the better of him; with hands under the table he flipped off the hammer loops on both his six-gun holsters.
There was another couple of moments of awkward silence; Bray flashing him the constantly excited grin and both of them listening to the creaks and thumps of Tammy's boots on the floorboards above; before she finally reappeared.
"Well hey!" The man-whale’s over-the-top cheeriness continued.
"Hey!" And was reciprocated with just as much volume and passion from Tammy.
The lustrous woman had changed. She had brushed her hair out; adding little curls, probably with strips of linen the way he'd seen Karen do it in camp. And she had applied more make-up - lip colour; rouged cheeks and possibly darkened her lashes, maybe a with a little chimney soot. The dress was crimson satin and edged in what looked like black fur. It had half-length sleeves and a low neckline; plunging in an acute 'V' almost to her navel which of course maintained a bracing show of her mouth-watering cleavage. Though this time she had something on underneath that suggested; though really failed to accomplish; an air of decorum. The visible undergarment was a cotton slip that was so thin as to be close to see-through and the hemline; halfway down her breasts; was lined with a two inches of lace edging that provided extra holes for succulent flesh to be observed through.
"Well ain't this just about perfect... one of them moments you wish could last forever." Bray gushed.
Arthur watched Tammy as she swept around the kitchen and worked briefly over a cooking pot on the stove and then with three white china plates. The blush was still there and the heat and maybe a little nervousness. She only cast him odd heavy-lidded glances but they were still full of desire and maybe a little hesitation. He might have frightened her a little, come on too strong. It wasn't his fault; that was what she brought out in him. But the slight discomfort Arthur felt continued in his gut so he hedged his bets.
"Well, like I said. I can't stay for long." He said to Bray, though his eyes were glued to Tammy.
"Then look at us... like a couple of old friends." Bray said, apparently unconcerned. "Ah, it's a short life but a merry one!"
Arthur turned back to Bray to politely throw him a smile and by the time he had done so; Tammy was at the table with the three plates piled high with some kind of stew. It was steaming and smelled spiced; seasoned and delicious.
"Here we are, all the fixin's." She sang as she doled the plates out. "I hope you boys left some room in your trousers."
The added comment was aimed at Arthur and she held his gaze for a moment, wet her lips, glanced at where his hard cock would be beneath the table. Bray didn't seem to notice.
"Mmmm, that smells delicious..." Bray said, reaching out and grasp his wife's wrist. "...And the food don't smell too bad neither."
"Oh stop it, you!" Tammy gushed, laughing.
The next thing Arthur knew was Tammy getting pulled straight onto Bray's lap. An arm encircling her waist and they both, sitting comfortably, turned to watch Arthur eat.
"How do you like it?" Tammy asked once the first mouthful was shovelled in.
Arthur chewed, frowned, then deliberated before answering.
"It's good... Different."
Tammy pulled herself up off her husband's lap and then went over to the front door where a third dining chair stood. She brought it over and took her seat opposite Arthur.
"Mmm, that meat is so tender." Bray said, stuffing his jowly maw.
He barely emptied his mouth before he began to talk again.
"You know what, this place used to be a pig farm when we was... When we was kids. Before we lost our Ma and Pa."
Bray and Tammy exchanged sad looks. And yet it took another second for the meaning behind the sentence began to dawn on Arthur. His eyes darted from man-whale to the younger slender woman, back and forth, back and forth. 'Our Ma and Pa' Not man and wife, but brother and sister?
"Horrible business." Bray went on, none the wiser to Arthur's aghast expression.
"Horrible." Tammy added before they both slipped into a saddened silence.
Bray cut through it with his expected grin and omnipresent positivity.
"But we still got each other... Ain't that right, honey pie?"
Tammy took up the positivity, laughing at her brother's humour. She whooped her response.
"And we still know how to have a hog-killing time!"
The sickening display of their utterly inappropriate relationship went up another notch as Bray offered a fork-full of the stew to his sultry sister.
"Here, here... that's for you." He said.
"Yeah?"
Tammy's reply was followed by her leaning forward to slide her lips slowly and methodically around the circumference of the fork. And all Arthur could do was image the fork to be his dick. And then; unfortunately; an image of Bray's cock entering his sister's mouth sneaked into his mind.
Tammy suckling at the fork of meat, returned the gesture to her brother and he followed suit, eating Tammy's offering with noisy gusto. The overt exchange ended with the brother and sister slowly turning to stare at Arthur, both licking their lips. Arthur didn't know where to put his eyes. He settled on Tammy's immense cleavage.
His own entertainment was interrupted by Tammy.
"Where're my manners?" She gasped, suddenly. "Drinks!"
She reached over and grabbed the unlabelled bottle of what Arthur assumed to be red wine.
"Yeah, I could definitely use a drink." Arthur grunted.
She poured the red liquid into the tumbler, which was barely larger than a shot glass. Arthur downed it in one. Then slammed the glass back down, giving a little choked roar at the heat and sharpness to the otherwise sweet and heady flavour.
"Woohoo. That stuff'll put hair on your chest!" Bray laughed.
"Oh, I doubt he needs that." Tammy flirted. "Let's loosen you up some more."
She got up, bottle in hand, walked around to Arthur's side of the table and sat herself down on her brother's lap. His free hand went straight to her ass; stroking and squeezing her firm rounded rump with an unmistakably sexual possessiveness.
Tammy didn't bat and eyelid. Instead she refilled Arthur glass.
"Come on honey."
She laughed raucously as the outlaw guest took another drink.
Immediately the second the liquid fire slide down his gullet and settled in the pit of his stomach he started to feel woozy. The colours making up his vision shifted somehow, giving everything a green/orange glow. His view was also moving constantly, shifting in little continuous circles, his focus also shifting in and out.
"Come on, I thought I had a man here, not a boy." Tammy laughed, goading him as she refilled his glass.
She leaned forward; close to his ear. Her up-close cleavage view; right down the front of her dress helped him to focus for a moment. Her words burned into his skull; echoing around in the chasm of his head.
"One more and you and I'll both go upstairs and have a lie down."
Of course, he knew what she intimated by 'lie down', it was the least subtle euphemism he had ever heard and was more than enough to get him reaching clumsily for the glass again.
"Ah, what the hell." He groaned around a tongue that felt swollen too thick for his mouth.
He somehow managed to gulp down the red liquid. And then he toppled sideways, right out of his chair.
The last thing he recognised was the sweet sound of Tammy's voice.
"Oh, about time. Take whatever cash he has on 'im and put it behind Momma."
<><><>
Arthur awoke some time later.
His first recognition of his surroundings was the smell. It was vile, putrid and clawed at the back of his mouth, assaulted his senses.
His eyes kicked in next, he was outside, the blue sky closer to navy now than the cornflower it had been when he'd stumbled across the pig farm in the morning. He wasn't sure how much time had passed but the sun was low on the horizon, so it had been at least a few hours.
He was surrounded by trees, they towered above him, insanely tall. But the smell was the worst of all.
"What the hell just happened?" He groaned, his throat sore as well as clogged by the miasma of putrescence.
He managed to move his eyes and then his head and realised he was in a foul; muddy pit in some woods somewhere. He saw his hat and then beyond it he saw bodies. Human corpses, maybe a dozen of them, maybe a score. He tried to sit up but his limbs ached and there was something on his chest pinning him down.
The pain in his limbs and joints wasn't unexpected, he'd felt it a number of times - the result of snake venom. It didn't bother him; it would wear off.
Had he been bitten in the pit? He wasn't sure. He lifted his head and saw that he was partly buried under one of the foul; apparently partly eaten; partly decomposed corpses. Lubricated by mud and; knowing his luck; slurry, Arthur managed to squirm out from under the decaying body.
It was female still partially clothed, but lacking a head. He scuttled back in a momentary panic, surrounded by the sights and smells of Hell. But then he came back to himself after a number of nightmarish seconds and started to piece together what had happened. His brain worked overtime as he frantically grabbed his hat and then scurried out of the pit, finding a shallower slope and some larger toppled branches to help him escape.
"Those crazy sons of bitches got some explaining to do."
Arthur trampled through the woods; snatching up a few herbs and berries that he recognised were edible. And as he made his way away from the hellish pit, his mind came back into focus and he started to check his person. He was still clothed but his personals; his money; holster rig; pistols and satchel were all missing.
However, he checked his boot and found the two-shot .38 Derringer was still there. He drew it checked the over-under chamber as he emerged from the edge of the woods. A quick look around confirmed a few recognisable landmarks and he oriented himself and then started the march back to the pig farm.
He had figured out from the aching in his limbs that the drink and maybe the food as well; had been laced with rattlesnake venom. Lucky he was resistant to it. Any other type of poison and he would be another rotting corpse in that pit from Hell.
So, they would expect him to be dead and gone. Good. He would reappear like the undead from the grave and dole out his own flavour of cold vengeance, take back what had been stolen from him and then take what he deserved from them in payback.
<><><>
He came across the pig farm from a copse of trees just after twilight and started to sneak around the shadowy side of the two-storey building.
The light was fading fast, the sun already hidden behind the distant mountains and the surrounding patches of the tree line obliterating much of the remaining ambient light.
Arthur headed straight for the front door. This was not going to be any kind of backdoor home invasion followed by a shot or two in the dark. He was going in there as an Old Testament avenging angel and only the front door would cut it.
He climbed up on to the front porch, took a glance through the window overlooking the dining table; where the crime had been committed - and one of many according to the bodies in the pit. There were his belongings; right there in the open on the table.
And there was Tammy; meagrely illuminated by oil lantern and candle light. She was still dressed the same; standing at the table counting through his collection of trinkets - rings and earrings and necklaces that he hadn't got around to taking to the fence in the outskirts of Rhodes yet. Tammy was singing to herself softly while performing a little on-the-spot victory dance.
Arthur cocked the Derringer and then paused, there was a coil of quality oiled rope hooked on a nail on the side of the swing seat. He grabbed it; checked the lariat knot was correct and then stomped straight to the door and kicked it open with a heavy boot heel.
Tammy gave a little squeal of surprise and then paused with shock as she recognised that half-silhouetted bulk filling the doorway.
"You? You ain't..." She stammered with incredulity.
But then he ran straight into her with gritted teeth and a snarl, slamming her down with his weight, knocking her feet out from under her.
"Oh my God!" She screamed as she went down under him.
Before she knew it, Arthur had rolled her onto her front, pinned her with his weight and even though she was struggling like a banshee, was able to get her arms bent back and pinned behind her as he began to expertly hogtie her.
Arthur was good with a rope but he hadn't learned by being a cattle herder in his youth like so many. He had learned it as a skill in restraining people during robberies. It had been one of the first skills Hosea had taught him, even before Dutch had introduced him to the six-gun.
"Oh my God! Stop it, I ain't a damn hog!" She squealed and quivered, her fear and anger an equal mix in her shaking rocking, trussed up body.
In less than fifteen seconds he had her hands and feet securely bound with no chance of her wriggling free. And it had been a lot of fun, the intention of killing her with his knife or a bullet went out of the window during those fifteen seconds. The same couldn't be said of Bray though.
He heard his sister’s ruckus and came to the top of the stairs; paused a second and then; apparently realising her caterwauling wasn't more of her glee at another successful venture, he threw himself into action.
Inexplicably; he stopped halfway down the stairs and looked down over the bannister to see his sister being tied up by a stinking mud-soaked man he believed dead.
"What? How the hell did you..? Oh, it don't matter I'll make sure you're dead this time!" He snarled, the omnipresent positivity finally deceased.
His delay gave Arthur all the time in the world to bind Tammy and be upstanding and ready for Bray as he got to the bottom of the stairs.
Bray had a revolver in his hand, a worn Civilian model Cattleman but Arthur was ready and he calmly put both Derringer slugs into the man's huge belly from barely two yards away. The flash illuminated the meagre candle illumination like full sunlight for a fleeting second. But it was enough for Arthur to see that the two .38 slugs wouldn't be enough, the layers of fat having absorbed enough of the energy to at least delay the man-whale's demise.
Arthur saw the revolver coming up, even as Bray clutched at his bloodied stomach. Sweat was beading on his forehead and his expression etched into a rage-pain grimace.
Arthur reacted, throwing himself backward and to the left, slamming into the table as he heard the Cattleman roar. The .45 calibre bullet whipped past him a foot clear; though splitting the very air of the living room. It cut deep into the wooden boards of the front of the house but the thick planks ended its journey.
While Bray cursed and grunted and cocked the revolver's hammer for his second shot; Arthur moved like lightning, a combination of practice and desperation guiding his hands with life-saving precision. Reaching to the table top beside him, Arthur's hand slipped around the smooth polished walnut grips of his Schofield and without even drawing the revolver he cocked the hammer; angled the holstered muzzle and squeezed the trigger.
Bray went down with a floor-quaking slam; his back against the bannister of the staircase; breaking three of the spindles on impact; before sliding down to slump defeated on the floor with his back to the stairs. He wasn't dead but resembled a puppet with their strings cut. Hands lay inert in his lap, chin against his chest, awkwardly breathing laboured blood bubbles. There was no strength in him any longer.
Coldly, Arthur drew his smoking revolver; thumbed the hammer back again; took two steps until he was standing right over Bray's inert form and then popped a final loud lead slug through the slumped down top of his head.
"Bray! No!" Tammy screamed, still hogtied on her front but with her head up and straining to see her brother.
The killing of Bray broke all remaining decorum in her and she writhed and screamed banshee-like all over again, trying to kick and jerk about against her unyielding bonds.
"You animal! You're gonna pay, you bastard! I loved him like a husband! I'm gonna bleed you dry! Let me go, you son of a bitch!" She raged, spitting venom.
Arthur left her there; ignoring her raging; as he retrieved his belongings from the table.
His cash wasn't with his other things but he found it on the small table beside the staircase. He assumed Tammy had just finished counting it and had put it to one side in order to check over his other valuables. He pocketed his cash and then started to go through every cupboard and drawer in each of the ground floor rooms before heading upstairs to search the rest of the house for more valuables.
He found small items, medical tonics, food, a bottle of gin that always seemed to steady Arthur's quickdraw hand. Also, some cigarette cards he had been half-heartedly collecting. But there was no more cash anywhere and that didn't make much sense to him.
The main upstairs room had been a bedroom, there was a bed frame; a wardrobe and a desk under the window. There was also a painting of the family but the parent's faces had been scratched and slashed out of existence. The room now was little more than a dumping ground for broken stuff and other useless rubbish.
In one wardrobe along with books and folded blankets; he found a collection of cleaned human bones, including a complete skull. It made him shiver despite his tough outer-demeanour. This was probably one of the deceased parents.
"Ugh, you sick sons of bitches." He grunted to himself as he shut the wardrobe again.
A loose floorboard at the stair bannister caught his eye and he used the tip of his bowie knife to prise it upward. There was a bill fold hidden there with twenty dollars in it. Twenty blood stained dollars. He took the cash and then turned his attention to the only other upstairs door. He already knew where that led.
He checked out the other bedroom, where he'd forced his lust onto Tammy before their meal, but there was little else to take. Just Tammy herself, though he hadn't quite decided what to do about her yet.
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Red Dead Redemption 2: At the Aberdeen's Pig Farm.