6 Mile Canyon, Nevada Territory, 1859
From across the valley, Henry Comstock looked through his spyglass and could see the pillar of white smoke rise steadily from a hastily made fire. Bolstered with green boughs instead of dry firewood, the fire smoldered and sent the acrid smelling smoke along the length and breadth of Six Mile Canyon. But it was not the measly fire that held the mans attention, nor was it the small pack mule tied to a sapling near the fire, but instead the fine form of a young woman, not much older than the age of twenty, devoid of her petticoat and other clothing, standing upon the bank of a small stream trying to wash her body of a hard days journey.
Through the refractive lens of the spyglass, Henry could see the woman’s long legs spread out into the water, her foot splashing the shallow water around as she made playful sounds. As often as he saw the sight, Henry never tired of seeing his daughter’s naked body in its entire splendor. In reality he could see her late mother in her feminine beauty, he could also see the reason their love had crafted such a girl and could not avert his eyes even as a pang of guilt struck him for the lewd thoughts he began to muster.
And then through a small thicket of trees, Henry saw movement. With a grin, he trained his spyglass upon two men working their way down from a small grade. There was no doubt they were the two prospectors him and his daughter hoped to flush from their claim. They were older men, one holding a pick while the other held a shovel close to its neck and peered at the young maiden wallowing in the shallow water.
“You are trespassing upon our claim,” came the older man’s voice as it boomed through the valley and came to Henry’s ears with a commanding tone. Eilley, spun from her position in the water, letting out a little shriek as if she had been spooked, then tried to claim a little modesty by covering her chest up with one arm, while the other dropped to cover her sex.
“I…I…I certainly did not mean to. I did not know anyone was around. I saw the stream and wanted to wash the journey from my skin.”
It was a convincing lie as Eilley stood there; her all but barely covered body fodder for the prospector’s who had obviously not seen such a sight in many, many months. Both were unkempt, their hair pulled back into along bunches as thick as a horse’s tails. Their beards were long as well, as dirty as their denim overalls and giving Eilley an idea of how long it had been since they had last visited civilization.
As they took the surprising sight, Eilley moved towards her clothing. Swooping down to pick up her garments, it was the first time she had turned her back to them, letting them get a glorious look at her buttocks as she bent over. It was a calculated move, for as Eilley stooped forward, she allowed the two men to view the welts that crisscrossed her back.
“You traveled alone?” the second Prospector asked as he nudged his companion and pointed to the heavy lashings that contrasted against her pale skin.
“Yes, yes I did,” she said somberly. “I was prospecting with my father, an evil, evil man, but when I could not shovel the overburden fast enough, he got mad. He gave me a terrible lashing, tying me savagely to a tree like I was that of a defiant horse. I could not take his abuse, his indignity, so three days ago I stole a mule and rode. I rode until I came here and saw this stream. I thought this would be a good place to rest; to start a fire and cook some food and wash the trip from my body. Please, please don’t be mad, because as a prospector’s daughter I know a claim is a claim, and I will rightfully leave.”
“If you plan to cook that rabbit, you should have a better fire than that I’m afraid. Rabbit is lean, to lean to fry in that fire of green wood you have burning there,” the man said when he saw a skinned rabbit sitting just beside the fire. “We have a camp just over the ridge; you are more than willing to cook it upon that, I am just afraid that you will get sick eating half-cooked rabbit, not to mention smoking out our camp with that pathetic fire.”
“Oh sir, I would never mean to impose…”
“I assure you, miss. You would not be imposing,” he said as he turned to his prospecting partner and winked.
Eilley dressed hurriedly, letting the two men steal glances at her frame as her nudity slowly commenced to being fully dressed. She knew her father was watching as well, from high on the ridge, but she did not look his way as she followed the two men, her mule in tow, for fear that glancing in his direction would give his position away.
The camp the miners talked about was vile at best. A meager log camp was thrown together, its logs criss-crossed and in no measurable length. Only the mud clay of the stream kept the cold evening air from permeating the structure, and the vast majority of furnishings were outside the camp itself, the stumps formed in a semi-circular around the front of the insufficient structure.
As the rabbit was cooked and the heat of the Nevada sun began to give way to the cool of the evening, talk around the make-shift log cabin turned to the topic of prospecting. Eilley kept her answers to the carefully choreographed script that her and her father had rehearsed. Under the pretense that her father was also a prospector, the conversation flowed with the jargon of mining, but the conversation never answered the question that Eilley and her father were most interested in; was the mine producing gold.
Eilley was sure her father was listening to every word, their voices carrying into the cool night air at the same time he moved closer under the cover of the darkness. She could not see him in the darkness, but could certainly feel his presence and began to loathe the man. He made it her role in the carefully crafted scheme as clear as the stream in which she had bathed. She was to win their favor at all costs, and Eilley knew all to well the sum of loneliness and opportunity in the wilderness. Even now the conversation was subtly steering towards more personal questions; answers no father should hear about their daughter.
“At twenty years of age, you have never wed, or been with a man?” the older miner added as if she was now a spinster because of her age.
Eilley turned into the darkness, blushing slightly from the question and took a moment to compose herself before answering. The delay seemed legitimate because it was authentic. She had been with a man, several times in fact, but because of the shame of it, she could never admit to any man, for any reason that it had been repeatedly with her father. Instead, Eilley crafted a careful lie.
“I’ve… I’ve been with a man,” she said as if choosing her words with care. “A couple of times. My father, a pig of a man, needed prospecting supplies and we had no money. My use … my services… were traded for a storekeep in trade.”
“My God, how despicable.”
“And to whip you for not shoveling enough overburden? How dare he call himself a father, much less a miner?”
“I was taken back by it, but I slowly learned to tolerate it, to enjoy it almost.”
“Under the right circumstances, Eilley, it can be very enjoyable.”
“At times I enjoyed myself. The storekeep was kind enough. I had no quarrels with him. It was not him that should have refused to barter me, but my father; after all, supplies do cost money.”
“Indeed they do,” the younger miner said, winking to his friend as he said it. “But since you know of these things, and have no destination or money in which to travel, you could camp here, in exchange making this dismal territory hospitable?”
“Are you implying…?”
“Indeed we are miss. And by your own admission, you have done it before.”
“I have, but no one knew. Perhaps in this case, if no one ever knew as well, I could again, but only upon good treatment, not like the treatment my father has given me.”
“Never,” cried the older man as he tossed the remains of his drinking tin into the fire only to hear the sizzle of water hiss and boil away eerily.
“And tonight… tonight perhaps the obligation starts?” asked the other with slight trepidation. Eilley only grinned.
“I just had a bath today gentlemen. There is no better evening than this.”
Even with Eilley’s father waiting just outside of the cabin, Eilley knew she was at the mercy of these two strangers. Her father’s greed and lack of compassion for her fate would never spurn him into action. She also knew there was no need to undress ceremoniously. The men had not slept with a female in many months, and they had already seen her body provocatively displayed down by the stream earlier. Now they wanted something more alluring, more pleasurable, and she stripped quickly out of her petticoat inside the small log cabin.
She felt the weight of the straw bunk compress under the woolen blanket and caught a whiff of the miner’s smell. It stunk. Dank, the miners called it, though in reality it was methane gas that seeped from the ground. She had grown accustomed to it with the smell only offset by the presence of their heavy beards, heavily matted hair, and hard cider breaths.
She felt each one remove their soiled clothing and then felt each in turn sit next to her on the thatched bunk. She jumped when a hand started running up her leg from the right, and another palmed her fleshy globes from the left. She was not accustomed to having two men paw her at once, but she had no recourse but to allow the miners the perverse pleasure.
Eilley jumped again as a large, callused hand caressed her soft right breast and contrasting nipple. Not knowing who they really were, or what they expected from the double-team, had Eilley breathless and she could feel herself tighten up in resistance. One of the hands knew the female form well, and reached the apex of her legs, rubbing it with gentle palms before beginning to probe its depths.
With a gentle push, the miner on the right, McLaughlin, pushed her gently back, moving her so that her legs pivoted around, her back crumpling the hay under the blanket. She then felt someone move to straddle her head as the heavy smell of dank once again filled her nostrils. She felt something trace around her lips, nudging them relentlessly as she recognized the feel. It was the same whorish act her father enjoyed; the feeling of a man’s rigid member, now being stuffed mightily into her mouth.
At the same time, she was aware of another prick rubbing upon her belly, the man’s hand that was located there, slipped in even deeper and she began to rock on the hefty bunk under the ministrations. Eilley felt stretched and full under the onslaught of the miner’s thick and calloused fingers, his digits touching her sensitive spot magically as it sent a thrill through her young defiled body.
The strange hands quickly parted her legs as McLaughlin’s body slid under her trunk, his hands and mouth sucking on her hanging breasts. As he moved, Eilley felt the heat of a man maneuvering under her bottom, his hardness rubbing across her down patch of pubic hair. At the same time, she felt the heat of a man behind her; she was engulfed by another as it touched her lips. Without warning, stiffness entered her hard and fast from behind, making her gasp. As her mouth opened to pleasure the second miner, Eilley barely had time to gasp. As her mouth opened, O’Reilly thrust into it, pushing over her tongue and into her throat. Her nose was tickled as it had never been tickled before as his hips lunged forward into her again and again.
Behind her, Eilley felt the slap of a man’s thighs on her bottom as his shaft sank into her sex again and again. Penetrated in two ways that she never deemed possible, Eilley’s senses were overwhelmed. The double onslaught increased in speed as she was speared from both ends. She could even feel the man behind her welling up, his breathing ragged despite his daily toil deep within the mine.
The miner in her mouth was ready to deposit his seed as well. Her mouth felt so full that she could not speak, only murmur and grunt, a deep pathetic grunt that she was sure her father could hear just outside the cabin. She was glad she could not see her at least, even more so now that the quick thrusts from behind her began to drive her head forward into the man in front. It was a whorish, lewd scene that her body seemed to relish. She welled up inside and then released in a shuddering wave. Feeling her body shake with pleasure, the moans of both men were loud as they simultaneously blasted deep within the vixen that had been mysteriously bestowed upon them in the canyon.
As her vagina squeezed and plundered every last drop from the man within her, the hot, thick discharge of the man within her mouth made swallowing it all the more difficult. Still her father had trained her well, and as the man withdrew from her neither region, Eilley in turn licked a dollop of white seed that oozed from the end of the man’s stubby shaft that withdrew from her lips.
It was a degrading, final act, but one which Eilley was sure would please the two men. With only a gentle kiss to her cheek, they threw another blanket over her and extinguished the whale oil lamp for the night.
The next morning, Eilley waited as the men awoke from their bunks. She waited for one to approach, to take her again as her father had insisted on so many mornings. Apparently they were satisfied with the night’s event, for they quickly ate breakfast as Eilley feigned sleep. Already she was planning her day; a hurried cleanup of her body in the stream, and then a hot cooked diner as an excuse to enter the mine itself. It was the only way she would learn if the mine was producing gold.
Just before noon, Eilley headed into the timbered shaft of rock with a tin of warm biscuits, molasses and corn beef hash for the two miners. As she plunged deeper and deeper, she let the yellowish light of the whale oil candle guide her way into the mines depths. Thankfully she was not alone, for beside her was her father, carrying a charge of black powder.
“I heard your cries of passion last night Eilley. To tell you the truth I was a bit jealous.”
“You know you will have your way with me soon enough father. You have nothing to be jealous of.”
“But you seemed much less reluctant. Do you care to explain your actions?”
“It was merely a show. It was disgusting, but the ends justify the means, now be quiet before our voices carry and they hear us.”
Her father only grinned at her chastisement as they slipping through the labyrinth of corridors. By tracing their way along a ribbon of smooth timbered rail seemed the most logical way of finding the two miners deep inside. Long before they reached the end of the longest shaft, Eilley and her father could hear the two men applying a pick to the headwall and shoveling up the spoils. With a tap to her father’s shoulder, Eilley traveled the last two hundred yards alone.
“I brought you some warm lunch. I thought perhaps it might give you extra strength to find that elusive vein of gold,” she said as the two sweaty men stopped their toil and leaned upon their hand tools. Taking the warm rolls, they ignored their grimy hands and ate the warm food with vigor.
“It’s not that elusive Eilley. It abounds everywhere in the quartz, unfortunately that lies within this blue clay mud. It sticks to our picks and shovels, but we are confident the mud will play itself out and leave us easily mined gold.”
“This gold—is it worth the effort?”
“Oh yeah, very much so. About six dollars to the ton.”
“Then tonight I will have to rub your aching arms for the effort, perhaps with clothing on, perhaps with none,” she added with a grin.
“You know Eilley, you are going to make a miner a great wife someday,” McLaughlin said as she turned to allow the men to continue with their work. Eilley only shook her head no.
“No, because to wed would mean I would have to choose only one of you. I could never do that,” and with a sassy little wave of her hand, Eilley turned her back to them, knowing the two miners’ had just eaten their last meal.
Within minutes, two muzzle flashers emerged from the unlit tunnel. McLaughlin and O’Reilly did not have time to hear the two fatal shots before they felt the stinging lead bullets rip into their torsos. Eilley’s father had meant to take both in the head, but the dim light and a last minute twist at the pick and shovel had sent the bullets elsewhere. Two more shots resounded in the darkened shaft to finish what the first two rounds failed to do. Only then did he speak to Eilley.
“Eilley, grab their ankles and help me pull them through this muck.” Eilley dropped her tin and tried her best to use her meager weight to haul the wet clothed men through the mud and up alongside the headwall of the mineshaft. As her father used the pick to drive a hole deep enough to contain the charge of black powder, the pistol he had used to dispatch the two men, slipped into the mud. Without much fanfair, Eilley picked up the pistol, its barrel still warm from its belching fire, and slipped it into the folds of her soiled dress.
Eilley’s father placed the charge, set the fuse and then ran with his daughter towards safety. They were halfway out when the blast came, a column of wind rushing just ahead of the blast giving the father daughter duo just enough time to seek shelter behind some heavy beams. As acrid, thick choking smoke swirled around them, her father swooned at the sound and sight.
“They are buried forever now Eilley. The mine is ours.”
“No father; you mean the mine is now mine,” she said withdrawing the pistol from her dress and holding it only feet from his forehead.
“Eilley, how could you, I am your father. How could you even consider such a thing?”
“Just as easily as you forced yourself upon me, night after night, only to pawn me off to miner’s in search of the mother lode.”
“But now it’s ours. All ours. The searching, the bedding of miners; it’s all over, now it is ours for the taking.”
“No father, it’s mine for the taking. I believe I have earned it,” and with those final words, Eilley pulled the trigger and watched with open eyes as a plume of blood jettisoned from his forehead and gray matter went spraying across the tunnel wall.