Snakebite: A Futa Western

Story by Sajukno

Snakebite: A Futa Western revolves around the adventures of Samantha Wise, a female bounty hunter in the Wild West who's packing more than just six-shooters, as she plys her craft in the rough-and-tumble town of Snakebite, Arizona in the heyday of the Wild West.

The "snake" here is, of course, of the trouser variety. ;)

Samantha is 5'9" tall, with long brown hair that she wears in a ponytail, and has blue eyes. Her E-cup breasts are barely contained by a black leather corset, over which she wears the traditional leather cowboy jacket. She has a revolver on each hip, in fine leather holsters, held together by a belt. Sam wears brown leather chaps that, through careful garmet design, manage to totally conceal her massive cock, which is a foot long when erect. She wears heeled leather cowboy boots with spurs. On her head, Sam wears a typical cowboy (cow-futa?) hat which she loves more than anything and never takes off, not even during sex (and believe me, Sam will be having a lot of sex in this story!).

It was a slow day in the town of Snakebite, Arizona. But then again, it was always a slow day there. The gold rush had come and gone, but Snakebite had not gone the way of countless other boom towns, somehow finding a way to keep itself alive after all interest in the area had gone. The dry, hot desert winds whipped through the near-empty street, rattling the shutters of the wooden buildings that lined the only road in town. Snakebite was the last desolate stop before Mexico, a few dozen miles to the south. All manner of outlaw, fortune seeker, and traveler had traveled through this desolate town, but none were quite like the figure who slowly approached on horseback, the gentle clopping of hooves against the sand and the tinkling of guns in their holsters being the only sound coming from this new arrival. The few people out and about looked on with a mix of fear, suspicion and curiosity as this stranger rambled into their town. Out of the small, ramshackle sheriff's office came Snakebite's resident sheriff, an old man with a fading badge and a gray beard. Timidly, he approached the stranger.

"You new in town?"

The figure on the horse only nodded.

"I seen your guns and I just want you to know that we don't want no trouble here, lady," the aging sheriff said timidly.

"I don't get any trouble, I won't give any trouble," the woman on the horse said gruffly. "Now where can a woman get a drink around here?"

The sheriff pointed a finger toward the other side of town. "Saloon's over there," he gulped. "We don't want no trouble," he said, immediately regretting that statement as he was shot a look more damaging than a hundred bullets. The mysterious woman headed over to the saloon, hitching her horse outside. She walked up to the double doors and swung them open, her eyes adjusting to the dusty darkness of the dingy saloon, taking in what little there was to take in.

The saloon was a small, two-story affair, with rooms for rent on the second floor. The first floor contained a bar, behind which sat many dusty, most likely empty bottles, and a number of tables, the majority of which were empty, save for one which appeared to have a poker game going, and another in a dark corner at which sat a man, shrouded in darkness. Nodding to the man in the corner, the woman approached the bar, sitting down at one of the stools, her spurred boots digging into the wood. Tipping her hat low, the woman called for the barkeep, a lovely young woman wearing a faded red dress, her black hair done up in curls.

"What'll it be, stranger?" the barkeep asked disinterestedly, idly cleaning an empty lowball glass with a white rag.

"Whiskey," the woman said gruffly. The barkeep started to reach for the bottle before stopping, a revelation having just come over her.

"I know that voice," the barkeep said, grabbing the mysterious woman's hat and pulling it off her head, revealing her face. "Sam!"

Samantha Wise grabbed her hat back, hastily placing it back on her head. "Not so loud, okay?" Sam said, keeping her voice low. "So, how are things for you, Ms. Emily Scannelini?"

"You made my sister join a nunnery, you bitch," Emily scolded, her brow furrowing. "How do you think things are for me?"

"Hey, it's not my fault she can't appreciate a good time," Sam grinned, trying hard to not focus on Emily's heaving breasts.

"I know you can't go public with your whole...secret, but you can at least try to undo the damage you've done!" Emily said, leaning on the bar. "Your little stunt back in Baltimore traumatized her and she took the vow and joined some nunnery up in New York! I had to move down here just to get away from it all!"

"And you expect me to go to New York and, what, rescue her? It's not my fault she can't handle a little...you know," Sam said, reaching over the bar and grabbing a bottle of whiskey for herself, muc

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