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Introduction:

A young Cherokee warrior finds his Angel Vision!

I love gratuitous sex! Unfortunately for some, I feel responsible to build a plot and introduce characters into my tales. A few folks even prefer them that way. Here's one of my latest, and yes, it is a series. Read on!

The memorable day my Angel Vision was revealed to me, I had been meditating far up in the branches of grandfather oak above our family hunting grounds for most of the night. The first rays of dawn were coming through the branches and I became mentally aware of them. They were the cue I had set my mind to wait for.
I quietly shifted to see if any deer or other wildlife was in the clearing below me. The scene below was dramatic and would change my life from that day forward. The ground fog shifted and I saw her emerging from it just as first light from Father Sun illuminated her hair, face and body.
She was ivory white with warm pinkish tones in her nearly translucent skin where her red blood shone through like the color of a sacred white buffalo calf. The wild mane of hair surrounding her face and shoulders like a halo was the red color of a blazing hot council fire worthy of a hundred family tribal gathering.
Her beauty outshone that of any Angel I could ever have imagined. For a moment I thought she must be White Buffalo Calf Woman, but surely one of the holiest of Lakota religious icons would never appear to a young Cherokee warrior, even though I had just been deep in meditation? Could she be our own Corn Woman? Her beauty had me totally captivated and very emotional whatever her true identity. Had she appeared to me a few years earlier I would have sat there stunned the rest of the day because of the sheer intensity of her beauty!
I wondered for a moment what my grandfathers would have thought, had they encountered her in the woods as I had. My ancestors had often gone on vision quests. Some of my people still do when seeking some revelation from the spirits, and she would have easily seemed the answer to one.
She came into sight slowly and was limping badly and clutching her rib cage on one side, as if she'd been wounded there.
My aerie is in the top branches of a huge oak tree. I appear to be hunting, and at a superficial glance could pass for any of my ancestors back to primordial times. I spend hours there most days observing the forest and recording and sending data to a nearby college database. I’m helping with a census on wildlife for extra credits in one of my high school classes.
My vision, Goddess or mortal, was clearly in distress, so I swiftly logged off and disconnected my laptop computer from its solar panel powered battery source and stashed it in a weatherproof cache, then climbed down from my lofty lookout station. She turned to run as I came near her, but seemed near crippled by her injuries.
"Please Miss, I'm here to help you, whether you are Goddess or mortal!" I assured her. I was prepared to speak to her in my own tribal language next, if she did not understand English, but I’m not fluent in the Sioux. I hadn't considered how my wild appearance might startle her. I don’t appear to be either civilized or friendly, to those who don’t know me and take me only at face value. "What animal in our forest has dared maul you like this?"
The girl turned to look at me with fear in her stunning sky blue eyes. I was only fifteen years old at the time, but I was extra large for my age, as most men of my clan are. I weighed two hundred and forty pounds, and towered over her standing over six feet and eight inches tall. My Doctors predicted, from bone measurements, I would grow to match or exceed my father’s adult height of seven foot in the next few years.
I was dressed in traditional buckskin breeches and a hunting shirt I had respectfully hand made from the hides of some of my kills with guidance from my mother and others of our tribal elders. I wore buckskin most days when in the woods, or simply went naked.
My raven black hair is worn long like my Aniyunwiya ancestors. No, I don’t look like Michael Ansara, a Syrian, who played the Apache chief Cochise on a television series. Sal Mineo was the son of a Sicilian, and I don’t resemble him either. He was famous for portraying us, too. Wes Studi’s stern look resembles me more closely, but then he is one of us.
Calling us Cherokee is acceptable to most of us, though we pronounce it Tsalagi. My hair is grown extra long. Some on the school board consider my hair disruptive. Others point out the importance of my freedom of religion and that my size and appearance are already disruptive, but nothing can be done about them either.
Okay, so sometimes I go overboard with our traditions, but I haven’t yet made fun of your own religion or the lack of one. Trust me, I’ll get around to it when we know each other better. We Tsalagi are fun loving people.
This girl, on the other hand, was more simply dressed than I. She was totally nude except for her long flaming red hair, and the many bruises covering her otherwise beautiful ivory skin, or was her skin alabaster or porcelain? I only knew she is the most beautiful being or entity I’ve ever seen and I was in love. Her nudity increased her resemblance to the Angel I’d first thought of when I’d seen her.
I had noticed the blood from her injured lip, which had run from her chin and dripped as a bizarre crimson contrast onto the otherwise perfection of her rosy pink-tipped breasts. I struggled to avoid rudely staring at her beautiful breasts and the silky profusion of fiery red hair between her glorious thighs.
I quickly pulled my large hunting shirt over my head and shoulders and stepped behind her. I asked her, “Please, Angel. Lift your arms and I’ll drop this shirt over you. What, no wings?” She went into the big shirt as easily as a teepee and it served to conceal most of her much smaller frame. "I'll make you as comfortable as possible," I said, "then I'll contact medical help for you."
"No, you can't," she cried, "they'll kill me if you do!"
I calmly replied, "Trust me, Angel Face, I am a large angry savage, a respected member of a Warrior Society, and after seeing your beauty I am a devoted follower of yours. No person or creature in these forests will dare harm you in my presence! My great-great grandfathers were leading horse and woman stealing raids between the tribes at my age."
"You don't understand," she said, "it's my older brothers. They raped and beat me the first time when I was seven and told me I was their sex slave. I told my mom, and she beat me for lying. I hid under the house and cried myself to sleep. Dad came home drunk and couldn't find me. When he called me I went to him, and he beat me for hiding. I was so bruised they kept me from school for two weeks to keep from being reported. My life's been like that for the past eight years."
“That’s eight years too long then! Haven’t you heard? Lincoln freed the slaves years ago! Some years later, we native Americans were recognized as being human, too. If you are concerned about long term protection I’m available for that, and there was a vacant spot in my heart and arms that has been reserved for my Soul Mate for years. The spot in my heart is now filled to overflowing with your beauty.”
I knew if she believed half of what I was telling her I was leaving myself vulnerable to being hurt, but I also know you don’t play hard to get when you see an Angel! I noticed she was giving my own large body a look. The football workouts and weightlifting keep me toned.
I would have given my roping horse to meet her brothers and her father at that moment! “Come with me, and I’ll put some ice on your injuries and give you a safe place to lie down and rest for a few moments.” The girl was hurt so badly it was painful for me to watch her walk. I asked her, “Would you mind if I carried you there? It would be easier on both of us and you couldn’t be heavy as a young swamp rabbit.”
I scooped her up in my arms before she could answer and she seemed so small and ethereal I had to laugh. “You need a hunter in your teepee, little Angel, to bring meat to your campfire. Do you know what vegetarian means in our tribal language?” I answered my own question. “Lousy hunter!” She may have disagreed, but she was impressed enough by the ease in which I carried her she said nothing, and put her arm nearest me around my neck. I liked that because it pressed her thinly clothed soft breast and pink nipple that much closer in contact with me.
I carried her into a thicket on a nearby hillside. There was a circuitous path with alarms I stepped over and around. No one else had been in my cave in years, perhaps eons. I took her hundreds of feet into the dark cavern, my footsteps were sure as a puma’s in the dark from long practice. A click of a switch gave us light from a solar charged battery, and I sat in a large comfortable chair I’d built and reached for the cooler I’d brought there earlier.
I found a cloth near to hand and wrapped it around some ice and held it to her injured lip. I asked the beauty, “Are you aware you are now my Vision Angel and therefore it is my religious responsibility to adore and protect you?” I didn’t think our tribal elders would punish me if I stretched the truth a little, especially once they heard the girl’s story and met her.
She held my hand and the cold towel to her swollen lip and spoke, “Thank you. I feel safer in your arms than I’ve felt as far back into my childhood as I can remember! I’ve seen you at school. This is my first year there, too. Doesn’t everyone call you Chief?”
I laughed and told her, “There is a story to that, if you’d care to hear it?” She nodded eagerly, and I continued. “Chief Touch the Clouds was a Minniconjou Sioux and a cousin to Crazy Horse. He was said to be around seven foot tall. I’ll show you his pictures on the net. He was an awesome looking warrior. One of our own tallest clan chiefs changed his name to ‘Walks in Clouds’ as a joke on the boastful Sioux, and it’s been our family name since. It’s my luck my father is one of our biggest jokers, both in size and in the success of his pranks. He gave me the first name Chief when I was born. It amuses the elders, so I am a favorite of theirs.”
The girl laughed, then winced as it hurt her mouth. “I’m so glad to meet you, Chief. My name is Rita Riley. Thank you for being so kind to me.” I felt her hand touch my chest and hoped my hardening manhood she was sitting on didn’t alarm her.
I recalled the Riley brothers as two large but pudgy second-string players on our schools football team. They would be at least one and two years older than their sister and me. Neither of them would be a great loss to the team when I hurt them, as I intended to do soon. Where do I play? Our coach says I’m like the 500-pound gorilla in the jokes. I play any place I want to.
This is my first year so I practice with the team, do far more than the weight training repetitions and running my coach requires, and suit out at most games. I read the papers and stay up with our opponents. Any of them with penalties for unnecessary roughness play against me the next time we meet.
I have heard the sportscasters have given me the alias “The Enforcer” but they wisely use it only among themselves. Scouts from college and pro teams and wrestling federation executives are already attending our games. Two famous wrestlers Dad tag teamed with and against have sent invitations to their training camps, as well as their offers to manage me.
“You’re very welcome, Rita.” I told her, “It’s all part of my duty to my Vision Angel. You do know I am in love with you, and intend to marry you as soon as we’re old enough, don’t you? I have always been shy around gorgeous girls, but then I have known you closely for over half an hour now.” Rita did her best to smile up at me, and my poor heart did flip-flops! “After that lovely smile you have to marry me! Oh, and did your brothers catch you on this side of our fence or the other?”
“We were this side. Thank you for your marriage proposal, could you allow me a few hours to answer?” Rita asked sweetly, and smiled mischievously, “I’ll have to run a credit check on you before answering.”
“Oh ho!” I crowed and hugged her to me. “My Goddess has a sense of humor, too, my parents will love you! May I kiss your cheek? That seems to be the one spot you weren’t hit.”
She attempted another smile and tapped the uninjured side of her lips. She said, “Please give me my first kiss right here, Chief. I have never been shown affection, and you are fierce looking but handsome at the same time. My parents have never kissed me or held me that I remember, and my brothers are so gross and vicious. They use me and beat me but have never kissed me.”
I kissed her lips carefully as she asked and then kissed her cheek and forehead sweetly, too. I closed my eyes and licked my lips, as if savoring her sweetness. “Oh, your first kiss is so delicious! I hope you understand your being my Vision Angel gives me a proprietary privilege of all your kisses? Okay, I’m sorry, that’s not quite the truth, and I could never lie to you, Angel. I can only hope and pray you will reserve all your sweet kisses for me? If not, I will surely lose all interest in this life and die a broken man.”
Rita patted my chest and commiserated with me. “Your Vision Angel is pleased with your devotion and honesty, Chief. I will grant your prayer, if you agree to reserve all your own sweet kisses for me?” We sealed our deal with more kisses, of course! I was more than pleased with the steady progress I was making.
“So, what are you going to allow me to do to your brothers? If you don’t want me to call my Mom to send them to prison I should at least be allowed to break a few bones, shouldn’t I?”
“You’re right. I know they don’t deserve either diplomacy or clemency,” she said, “but could you try that first? I’ve threatened them with murder, but they grew up ignoring my threats. I was a little girl, with our parents against me, too. Perhaps you could give them a hint you like me? I have heard them mention you and they seemed to fear you. Perhaps that’s why I fled this direction and came here when they finished with me this time.”
“There was no need for you to ask me for help, Rita.” I confessed. “I fully intend to step in somehow. I’m like Coyote, meddling and intimidation are what I do best, and you don’t deserve their cruelty. I am also like Carcajou, the Wolverine, I have sharp teeth and I hold a grudge. Shoot at a wolverine once and miss and he may track you the rest of his life, fouling your traps and your meat caches. How is your leg? We can make an icepack for that or there is a spring and pool further back in the cave where you could soak it. We also have a hot tub up at the house, or I can take you up there for a shower?”
“I love your cave, and I hope you’ll bring me camping here on our honeymoon,” she giggled, “ but a relaxing warm shower would get their filth off me.” She said. “I’ve been beaten most of my life and I can mentally control much of the pain, and I’m working on that now. Could we backtrack to where I fought them and they tore off my clothes?” She must have felt the rumbling from inside me as I began to growl. I managed to suppress my volume to avoid frightening her. I was very angry with her brothers and parents!
I carried her from the cave while my mind raced. She’d told me earlier they’d kill her, if they were exposed, that meant she thought them capable of it. She was too close to the situation to be objective, but my first instinct was to treat them like rabid animals, before they doomed her or someone else. I had already heard too much viciousness in her relation of their treatment of her.
I’d seen her two ‘brothers’ up close and they looked totally alien in comparison to her. The only vague family resemblance was in their number of arms and legs, and even that was subject to change, when I found them next.
“Rita,” I asked, “Are your dad or mom redheaded, or blue eyed, or any of the other Rileys?”
“No, neither one of them, they’re both dark haired and brown eyed, and heavy, like the boys.” Rita replied. “I’ve never met any other kin of ours. They’ve gone to visit family a few times, but they always left me with a babysitter when I was younger, then alone for the last years. They knew I was too frightened for my life to leave them. That’s been changing with your big arms around me.”
I was increasingly alarmed at the situation, and concerned for her safety! The redhead and blue-eyed genes are both recessive and her mom having had a red headed postman or lover would not explain her indifferent attitude toward her own child being raped and beaten. I felt these people were insane or covering up something incriminating about Ritas real parentage or both.
“What about adoption, Rita?” I asked her. “Have your parents ever mentioned adoption to you that you recall?”
“No, never that I can remember. To be truthful, they only tolerate my presence when I’m cleaning the house, cooking, or earning money to pay room and board for the tiny space in an out of the way corner they allow me. If they spend a nickel on me they let me know they resent it!”
I kissed Ritas cheek again, and she tapped the unwounded side of her mouth. I kissed her there gently and told her, “I will personally cripple anyone who dares harm you in the future, my love.”
“I will wear a short skirt, wave pom-poms, and do cartwheels to cheer you on, Chief!” Rita smiled, “I like being under the protection of a handsome young giant, especially a sweet, charming, gentle one.”
“Get used to it then, Goddess, because I am not smitten, I am in love with you and hope you will be my Forever Love!” As we approached grandfather oak I observed the area and wildlife to see if there were any intruders, then sat her on a log.
“I’ll get my laptop, Rita, I have to message my mom, and see if she can help us solve your mystery. She’s the reservation police chief, as well as a psychiatrist. Your rape occurred in her jurisdiction. This is too serious a crime for us not to report.” It took only a moment for me to climb the tree and climb back down. I opened my laptop and booted it. It connected and I began typing.
My hands only look like weapons, I am a half fast typist, too. I began a list of things I’d learned or suspected since I’d met Rita. I kept up a running dialogue with her. I asked her questions, then typed. Here’s what I typed:

“Please excuse my typ0s, Mom. I’m only a hulking aborigine giant, but you know I am adorable, modest to a fault, and your very own loving cuddle bear and pookie poo.
Found in our north 40 Acres at first light: Rape and assault victim- Rita Ann Riley, date of birth, Dec. 16, 1991. Place of birth, Salt Lake City, Utah. Age, now 15 years.
Parents names, Charles Walter and Thelma Ann Riley. Both parents, 40 years old now.
Incriminating facts: Rita says she was first raped and beaten by both older brothers, Randy Gene and George Robert Riley, at seven years of age. She told her ‘mother’ and was beaten for lying. Her ‘father’ beat her again when he came home drunk. She has been raped and beaten since by both boys at random times every two to three weeks, as she was a few hours ago, inside our fence!
Suspicions: There is no physical resemblance between this girl and anyone else in her family. She is red headed, blue eyed, very fair skinned, and petite. They are large, dark headed, and dark eyed. She has without exception been left with a sitter or alone when they visit other family. She does not recall their ever showing her affection or concern. The parents seem indifferent whether her ‘brothers’ rape, beat, or kill her, and Rita believes they will kill her, if threatened.
Conclusions: These vermin are not her family, Mom!
Suggestions: Search Missing and exploited children database for red headed, blue eyed children born within two years of her date of birth. Check validity or existence of her birth certificate.
Personal: Mom, this Angel is my future wife!”

Rita spoke up, “Tell your Mom we’ll name a girl after her, if she’ll help me stay here with you, Chief! “
I typed, “Mom, Rita, or whatever my future bride’s real name is, says we’ll name our first redheaded daughter Fawn Walks in Clouds, if you can keep Rita here with us. You know I will support her financially. I love her, Mom!”
Rita had become increasingly agitated as I stated my case against her family and typed. I asked her, “Will you let me push the send button?”
She responded angrily, “No, which is it? I’ll do it myself!” She pushed the proper button, and I made certain the message was sent to Mom. I knew she’d see it as a text message on her phone immediately, then she’d go to her computer for more information.
“We’ll have to stay away from your clothes, Rita, they’re evidence in a crime scene now.” I put my laptop into the satchel and the strap over my shoulder.
As I carried her toward our house, she told me, “That’s okay, they always made me wear long sleeves and denims so my bruises wouldn’t show. I don’t care who sees the bruises now.”
“That’s good, Red Bird,” I told her, “because Mom will want pictures of all your bruises for evidence. I think you’ll like her. She is sweet and generous as Mother Teresa, but she will put a crook on the ground in a blink.” Mom was in the back yard waiting for us when we arrived. She was in her blue uniform, complete with her badge and pistol.
“Rita,” she asked, “Do you need anything for pain, Dear? I have a degree in psychiatry, which means I graduated from Med School, so I am licensed to prescribe medicine. We’ll have to transport you in for the rape tests, then I’ll petition the court to release you to me personally for treatment and protection, if you wish?”
Rita began sobbing and reached for mom like she was the only life raft in an ocean of sharks. Mom is a tall, dark, beautiful woman with a body like a model. She’s one of those I’d kill or die for without hesitation. Hollywood would never cast her as a First Nation’s woman because of her height and the commanding look in her face and eyes. They know nothing of our matriarchal society.
One of their major magazines did a scantly clad feature of her college cheerleading team in which she was a knockout! Mom turned down their offers of becoming a centerfold of the month because of the full nudity.
Mom took Rita from me and cradled her into her own strong arms and I could tell she’d idled her police chief and medical professional’s modes and she was 100% maternal care for the moment.
She kissed my Angel’s cheek and rocked her in her arms as she murmured soothing words to her. We all three had tears streaming down our cheeks. Yes, our stoic people can shed tears, we just don’t do it in front of outsiders, instinctively knowing predators attack those showing signs of distress first.
I opened our back door to the house and Mom carried Rita to her office, where her computer was sitting. I helped Mom sit her carefully in a chair and I sat in another. She refreshed the screen and said, “I did as Chief suggested about missing children and there is a probable hit already. We’re only waiting for confirmation, or I would not show you this picture.”
On her screen was a picture of a laughing two year-old baby girl with the reddest hair, palest skin, and bluest eyes imaginable, until you looked at the beauty sitting next to me. Rita and I both stared at the picture in amazement!
Mom told us, “Don’t get your hopes up too much, but the FBI lab has already reopened this case and are waiting on us. They’ll need your fingerprints first, luckily this baby has some on file they took from her toys.” She pulled out her inkpads and had that done in a matter of moments and sent the fax.
I’d been studying the picture and comparing the hair and skin color and almost shouted when I read the baby’s name! “Mom! The missing baby is Angel Melissa Anderson. I’ve been calling Rita ‘Angel’ since I saw her walk toward me through the ground fog as if they were clouds!”
Mom’s eyes widened! “I’ll inform the Council as soon as possible. We’ll have to meet and discuss this. Meanwhile, let’s get her to the hospital.”
Mom had me carry Rita to her car and we headed for the hospital. Mom called ahead and told them we were transporting a rape and beating victim. I was doing my own best to be upbeat about the day’s events and her life and mine being in turmoil. We were halfway there when Mom’s phone rang. She answered, then spoke for a minute, then thanked the caller and ended the call.
Mom parked close to the Emergency Room, then opened her own door and moved to the back seat to hold Rita, too. “Chief, get a wheelchair or gurney for her. We’ll get her inside and put her on a sedative.” Mom’s expression had gone Tsalagi on me and told me nothing about my love’s identity.
I practically leaped from the car and went through the ER door. I told the triage nurse there Mom had the rape victim outside and the nurse signaled an intern to bring a gurney. He assisted her out of the car, onto the gurney, then into a room. I held her hand and saw Mom had buttonholed a Doctor and was tapping his sternum with one of her rigid index fingers with a fingernail like a stiletto at the tip.
I was familiar with that painful treatment from personal experience and knew our patient would receive his immediate attention! Within moments he had her IV hooked up and added the sedative. Mom gave the medication a few minutes to work, and Rita rewarded her with a deep sigh as her pain and tension relaxed. Rita asked, “Was that phone call about me, Doctor Fawn? Please, I have to know now!”
Mom held her other hand and leveled with her, reluctantly smashing everything the girl thought she knew about herself into shards. “That was the FBI’s most reliable fingerprint expert, Dear, and he is 100% positive. I hope you like the name Angel Melissa Anderson, because Chief’s Vision was true, that’s who you are.” Angel’s screams and sobs filled the room!
I kissed her hand and told her quite honestly, “That is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, Angel. I will love you forever no matter your name. I hope you’ll be very happy with your birth family.” She stopped sobbing and looked with sorrow into my own tear-filled eyes and reached with her other hand to caress my cheek. The drugs must have kicked in because her hand fell away from my face and her eyes closed. A nurse came in with a rape kit and I kissed a sleeping Angel tenderly. I was sad beyond belief, thinking that kiss might be our last touch! I left the room and went to the waiting room.
Eyes were on me, and I felt them. I’d been looking for a large chair when I saw everyone looking at me, a half-naked freak giant Cherokee kid. Some people may have thought I had strayed from a carnival sideshow.
I was stunned at realizing her birth family would be here within hours to claim Angel and take her from me. I could not have felt a worse sense of loss had my right arm been amputated. It struck me I’d been such a damned arrogant fool to fall in love with her.
Her family had thought her lost for about thirteen years. They’d probably accepted she was dead by now and mourned her. Now that we’d found her they would surely have high aspirations for her. Even if she did persist in her affection for me they were not likely to accept it.
Mom finished observing the rape test, then came out of Angel’s room toward me. Her first words were, “Look at me, Chief! Are you going into shock? You’re white as a sheet!”
“The meaning of humility is coming to your dense son in his teens, Mother. Angel deserves the life she’ll have now and my seeing her again might upset us both worse. Fasting and meditation in grandfather oak for four or five days may help me find my spirit again if I leave now. I have never been so lost and adrift as I am without her!”
Mom reached up, latched onto one of my earlobes and pinched hard! She led me to a conference room by my ear, backed me up to a chair, and shoved me down.
Mother asked me, “Do you want me to find a stick and chase you through the city streets with you screaming while I beat you?”
“Mom.” I stammered, “I was stupid to believe that beautiful girl could ever love me!”
“Do you disrespect your poor mother so much you think I would carry a giant heavy stupid boy for nine months, then labor for two days on my back delivering him? I’ll give you the same medicinal Tsalagi beating that cured your father of three day drunken binges and womanizing!”
“But, Mom…” Any womanizing Dad had done was a shock to me. He’s the respected head Professor of the Anthropology department at the college I plan to attend. Mom has had him twisted around her fingers as long as I can remember.
“I’ll have to beat him again, too!” Mom sighed. She seemed reluctant about that. “If you’re stupid it has to be his fault! He is an old man now and another harsh beating from me may kill him.”
My Dad, Tall Bear, is seven foot tall, he was thirty-five years old at the time, and his training weight has been a solid three hundred pounds for years. He trains daily for the Iron Man competitions he loves. He’s also been the heavyweight Champion of a wrestling federation, and only retired from that because Mother and I cried for days the last time he was injured several years before. I’ve seen him hold cinderblocks on his broad chest while an assistant broke them with a sledge.
“Mom!” I pleaded with her. “Beat me, if you must, but please don’t beat my father again. The poor man would be laughed at. Our Warrior Society he leads would shun him, and he would waste away from the shame. I will do anything you say!”
My Mom pulled my head to her big soft breasts. “You remember what I tell you then, Chief! Your Dad and I love you with all our hearts and souls. You are everything we could ever want in a son. You are loving, gentle, brilliant, slow to anger, and fight like a grizzly when forced to! I saw your Angel look at you, and you are the friend, the lover, and the protector she’s never had. Her birth parents may shower her with presents, but within the next few days she will ask herself why they did not prevent her abduction and years of rapes and beatings. She will wonder if they were negligent and if they truly treasured her enough to protect her, then or now. You must be there for her to comfort her then.”
“I hear you and adore you, Ma!” I held my Mom close and snuggled my face between her familiar warm breasts. “You are the greatest Mom anyone could ever wish for.” I kissed one of her big soft breasts I had suckled so often as a child, then laughed. “You always taste great, too!” Mom laughed in delight at my impudence in kissing her breast and hugged my face into her cleavage fiercely, then she raised my face to hers between her strong hands and kissed me passionately on my lips.
“If that pep talk doesn’t comfort my precious baby through the next week,” She laughed, “tell Mommy and I will let you suckle my big nipples again! I adore you so much I’d be back in full milk production within a week, and mommy’s milk will cure most things!” My face reddened even darker than usual, and I took her offer as my cue to exit. Her sweet laughter followed me down the hall to Angel’s room.
I noticed from there the waiting room was filling. I figured the news had gotten out. The FBI seemed to be taking their sweet time of getting here, though. I was expecting an agent in charge of a field office to arrive at any moment. Angel was still sleeping and I walked to her bedside, and gently lifted her precious hand and held it to my lips. My world was complete. Angel was taken out of the room once for a complete scan. Mom had shared her suspicions with the ER Doctor the scan would reveal many healed and half-healed injuries from her beatings and Mom wanted to know of them now! I had shadowed her to and from the scan, and had helped them lift and position her for it.
A nurse opened the door and saw Angel was still sleeping. She whispered to me, “Her parents are here and insist on seeing her.”
I whispered back, “Please tell my Mom, Chief Walks in Clouds.”
Mom appeared behind the nurse, and mouthed to me as she nodded, “I’ll handle it.”
Mom entered a few minutes later with an attractive couple I had to assume were Angel’s parents, if the woman’s bright red hair, blue eyes, and pale complexion meant anything. The man took one glance at me and I could see instant dislike in his eyes! I have seen the look often enough to know it. “What are you doing in this room?” He asked.
I was close to asking him what he was doing in her room, when Mom told him, “You promised you wouldn’t wake her. That’s my son Chief you’re being rude to, and he’s the man who rescued your daughter this morning and solved the case of her abduction and identity!”
They had awakened Angel, and from the look on her face her father would regret it! She spoke, “How dare you speak to Chief like that? There are two people in this room who I know love me and will protect me. You are not either of them, Mr. Anderson!” That shut him up, then Angel looked at the beautiful red headed, blue eyed woman. Angel asked softly and sweetly, almost in a little girl voice, “Are you my mommy?” I could tell Angel was near crying and she instinctively reached her arms out to her mother like a child.
The woman came to Angel’s bedside and I was stunned beyond belief when she took one of Angel’s extended hands and shook it. She laughed lightly, and said, “I prefer you call me Melissa, but I don’t expect you’d remember that.”
Angel’s face flushed red with hurt and anger, she withdrew her hands, and she coldly stated, her voice rising in volume as she spoke, “I wanted more than anything to call you two Mommy and Daddy, but you both flunked the tests! No kisses, no tears, no hugs for the innocent child you somehow misplaced to be raised without love and beaten and raped hundreds of times. I cannot believe this! Chief Fawn, would you escort these cold hearted strangers out of my sight before I rip this IV out of my arm and attack them?”
Angel turned to me and I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her as she cried and mourned the loss of her childhood and any parental love she’d ever hoped to have! Mom came back a few moments later. She climbed up onto Angel’s bed, boots, badge, pistol and all and hugged her from her other side. Angel stopped crying and asked, “May I call you Mom, Chief Fawn? I’ve always wanted a real mom.”
Mother kissed a vacant spot on Angel’s face I wasn’t kissing, and told her, “I have always wanted a beautiful daughter, and now I have one! Remember well, Daughter, you owe me a red headed Tsalagi grand daughter named Fawn!”
I laughed and joined in, “I know my duty! If the first few babies are rowdy boys or sweet baby girls born with hair black as Raven, we will have to keep trying!”
“Yes,” Angel asserted, “and anyone who dares look at our precious babies wrong will feel my teeth and claws!”
Dad rapped on the half open door and asked, “Fawn, I heard some of the things you called that couple outside from a block away, but you’ll have to fill me in on why you went Mother Grizzly on them! Who is that beauty you two are hugging? I thought Goldilocks was a blond?”
Angel laughed, she reached her arms out to him and told him, “I presume you must be Papa Grizzly? My name is Angel Walks in Clouds. Mom adopted me. Chief’s going to marry me and we will make beautiful babies, so Mom can dote on them at clan meetings and pow wows and make all her friends green with envy.”
Dad shrugged hugely, laughed, and said, “That sounds like fun to me! My given name is Tall Bear Walks in Clouds, but you can call me Bear, Dad, Pops or whatever you feel comfortable with.”
Dad is the source of my, uh, rugged good looks and size. He has been known to terrify his students until they learn to love him, and even some of his wrestling opponents have admitted they’d feared lest his wild rampages as a bloodthirsty savage were getting out of hand.
He came in and joined in all the fun. It wasn’t fifteen minutes later before Angel was sprawled across Dad’s lap with his huge arms wrapped around her, mixing the Goldilocks fable with Little Red Riding hood and maybe one or two more.
Angel asked, as she slapped his enormous hands together, “Daddy Bear, Daddy Bear, what big hands you have, Daddy Bear!”
Dad replied, “The better to slap the head off anyone who dares mess with my Baby Bears, my Daughter!”
Dad took to Angel as a duck takes to water, and she told us she loved having two giants who loved and would protect her. Then there was Mom. Mom made immediate calls to the two of her sisters who were near as good at making leather clothing as she. She instructed them in the color and texture of doe hides she required and told them the dress was urgently needed. She wanted our Angel to look her best when presented before the Elders.
We were getting to know her and laughing, cuddling, hugging and kissing when the FBI agent appeared. He introduced himself as Agent Kelly, and asked to speak to Angel alone. All four of us spoke in unison as if rehearsed, “No!”
“I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Anderson outside,” Agent Kelly said, “and they told me there were no other family members here.”
Angel spoke up, “You spoke with my sperm and egg donors then. I want to press charges of negligence on those two. When I reached to hug that woman after being missing for years I asked if she were my mommy? She laughed, shook my hand, and told me she’d prefer I call her Melissa! I know they had to somehow have been negligent in my abduction!”
The agent made a note on his paperwork, then asked, “They’ve asked me to obtain a warrant and release you to their custody. What do you have to say to that?”
We all bristled, and Mom, Dad, and I came to our feet! Angel spoke calmly to the agent, but I could feel her emotions! “If you want to be seen on national television dragging a handcuffed kicking, screaming, bruised rape and abduction victim away, Agent Kelly, you are welcome to try it. That is the only way I will go to them, and I will be back with the Walks in Clouds as soon as I escape, which I will do! Neither of those people are as strong willed as I am. They wouldn’t have lived through a week of the torment I’ve survived.”
Mom was talking on her phone and I knew within minutes the town would be filling with some very vocal Tsalagi! Mom spoke to the agent then, “Angel’s last rapes and beatings were on Tsalagi land. She sought us out as a sanctuary and refuge from them. She is now a member of our family, clan, and tribe. She will be formally adopted within the next forty-eight hours. In the meantime there are five hundred pissed off Cherokee headed this direction, if you care to do as her former parents, who allowed her to be stolen, ask of you?”
The Federal Agent saw the wisdom in not taking any action, he said, “I will honor Angel’s wishes and advise all Federal Judges to table her parent’s requests for custody indefinitely. I will also personally review the reports of her abduction and the entire investigation to see if Angel’s charges of negligence can be supported. If so, I will file them!”
Angel rolled her IV stand to the end of her bed and kissed the Agent’s cheek! She told him sweetly, “We Tsalagi are a friendly tribe when everyone is reasonable!” Dad collapsed in his chair roaring and whooping with laughter, while Mom and I held each other up! Angel winked at us and giggled!
“That brings us around to the Riley’s.” Agent Kelly said, he pulled a recorder from his pocket and turned it on. “We have the rape tests in our custody, as well as all four suspects. Could we have your statement against them?”
Angel told him, “I was raped and beaten the first time by both boys two days after what I’d been told was my seventh birthday. I told both their parents and was then beaten by them. I will write down each date I was raped and beaten. They were all committed to my memory and I have never forgotten one out of hundreds, that memory work is what kept me sane! You can check each date against my school absences. I planned to have an indictment against them a jury could not ignore, but it will take days to transcribe them all.”
The agent breathed deeply, then spoke, “I am so very sorry, young lady, and thankful to these people for rescuing you. Should you need a secretary to help you with the transcriptions call me. Here’s my card.” He handed Angel his card, then left.
Angel must have read my mind. She said, “What would you care to bet my book will hit the best seller lists within days of its release? Most of its earnings will go to find missing children, and to post rewards for information, of course. I may name the book ‘I Prefer You Call Me Melissa” to immortalize Mrs. Rich Bitch outside! Have you ever seen a more likely candidate for Negligent Mother of the Year?” I could tell the daytime talk shows would love my Darling! She could do wonders though, in making people more aware of abductions and abuse.
Aunt Naomi and Aunt Bea arrived a few minutes later. After they’d been introduced to Angel and we’d all been affectionately greeted they showed us a white doe skin dress they had made for a woman’s wedding whose beau had since eloped with her. From the description Mom had given them of Angel they’d thought it might fit.
Mom and Angel both raved over the dress and Mom pronounced it perfect! I pulled two hundred dollars out of my pocket, it was part of my rodeo winnings from the week before. Both of my aunts threatened to beat a rude boy with sticks! This was their gift to Angel, they insisted. After they’d left, I handed Mom the money and asked her to spend it on her sisters. She had an answer to that already. “Their propane tank is always low. I’ll have the service add two hundred dollars worth, and they will love it!”
Angel rushed me! “Thank you, thank you, Darling! This dress is the finest thing I have ever owned! Mom, is there any reason I can’t get rid of this IV, take a shower and shampoo, put my new dress on and go meet some of our tribe arriving outside? Chief will wash my back, if I ask him sweetly, I think.”
Mom had the IV out within seconds, she told me, “I will be back in thirty minutes to help her with drying her hair. Our Goddess will have to keep up her image, so don’t get too carried away while washing her cute butt!”
“Mom!” That quote came from both Angel and me! Mom and Dad headed out the door and Angel and I were stripped within seconds!
Angel said, “I suppose we’d better have had a shower and shampoo when Mom gets back, huh?” We headed for the shower and as soon as I saw her naked butt my teen-aged prick went rock hard! “What do you call that big thing, Chief?” Angel wanted to know, “I don’t know much about First Nations lore, but I’ve seen war lances smaller than that!”
We adjusted the shower to warm then Angel poured shampoo in both of her hands. She sat the bottle down and applied her hands to my long hair. I did the same to her, as I watched her gorgeous little breasts jiggle! Angel asked, “See something you like, Chief? Yes, everything you may want from me has been forced on me many times before, but I love you, Chief, I am yours forever and I want you to be my first and only lover!”
“That sweet pussy of yours looks red hot, Angel, with those flaming hairs around it.” I confided to her. “I’ll risk a finger to find out!” I began playing with her clit and she put both hands on my prick.
I bent way down to suck one of her small soft breasts into my mouth, and she began trembling! “Oh, what was that, Chief?” She asked, “Whatever you’re doing please don’t stop!” What I’d done is find her G spot with my longest finger while rubbing her clit with my thumb. I’d learned that from some of the porn books Dad leaves lying around for me to read. He even dog ears some pages and underlines good information, and adds notes about sex he considers important for me to know. Do I have a cool dad or what?
Angel’s face and chest were reddening and she slumped a little. I shoved my big right hand underneath her world class little butt and held her up between my body and the shower wall as I got her off with my other hand. “Oh, oh, oh Chief!” She screamed. “I’m dying, or something, but it sure feels great!”
I asked her, “Do you mean you’ve never had an orgasm before?”
“No, never, not if that was what that feeling was!” She sighed and went limp in my arms. I figured the Riley’s rapes of her must have been so short and one sided and brutal she’d never felt any pleasure from them. So much for some people’s advice about if rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it!
Meanwhile, I was still as hard as a stud horse, and our time was running short, but I was very pleased with Angel’s and my first sex experience. “We’d better rinse off and dry, Darling.” I told her, “Mom and Dad will be back soon.”
“You haven’t gotten off yet, Chief!” Angel protested.
I kissed her, and told her, “You did, though, and there is always later or tomorrow, and I am proud as a peacock right now, my love!” I helped her in drying and into her dress and told her how beautiful she looked.
When Mom and dad got back we found she had gone to one of the local stores and bought Angel a large shopping purse. She dumped the contents on the bed. There was a hair dryer, a smaller purse, a billfold with five twenties mad money, shoes, some items of casual clothing, a dozen pairs of white cotton panties, a dozen pink panties, some sports bras, assorted socks and an assortment of brushes, combs, clips, and skin creams. Our Angel tearfully thanked Mom and Dad.
“You’ve spent more on me right there than the Rileys did in all my years with them!” She sobbed. “I know how to work hard. I’ll find a job and pay you back every cent.”
“You don’t owe us a cent, Angel,” Dad said, “and you don’t have to work at anything, except school and writing that best selling book you’ve been planning as you feel up to it. Fawn says it will be good therapy for you. When you hit the talk shows I’ll be the big guy in the audience with the silly grin on his face saying ‘that’s my kid,’ while everyone behind me screams ‘Down in front’ and ‘take that silly hat off, mister, oh, that’s your head?’”
Mom winked at Angel, “While the big guy had his billfold open I grabbed five hundreds. You and I will be spending quality Mom, Daughter time and his money in the next few days buying you some nice school and dress clothes! If Chief is sweet we may take him along to tote bags.”
Mom sat our grinning Angel in a chair and began blow drying her hair. I pulled my laptop out and booted it up on broadband then clicked on the blog of one of my favorite red headed models, a very beautiful Brit.
I was certain to assure my Darling I thought her more attractive in comparison. I’d only thought her and Mom might get some ideas from the woman’s professional hair styling.
“Mom, look at this one! The woman is awesome, Chief, and don’t worry. As long as I’m getting all your kisses I won’t feel threatened in the least by any woman.” Angel had found the model’s picture I like best. Her hair is teased out and it appears she has a bushel of red hair surrounding her lovely face and lying on her shoulders and breasts.
“If you’d like to try that look we can do that, Angel.” Mom offered. “She is very lovely!”
Dad looked, shrugged, and voiced, “Meh, Angel will look much better than her in that style.” I gave Dad a high five for his super coolness. Mom and Angel both giggled.
“Baby boy,” Dad stage whispered to me, “I suspect you and I will have to watch those two very closely!” I laughed with him. I truly would not trade him for any Dad in the world, be he Prince or billionaire!
Mom finished her hair teasing and arranging and then applied a minimal amount of makeup to Angel’s face, then she had Angel look in the mirror.
“Wow, I’m beautiful!” Angel said. “Thank you, Mom!” We all agreed, she did look a vision.
We gathered everything up and Mom formed us up into a V battle formation like troops to get through the newsmen. “I’m going first.” She said. “Angel, you’ll have a big guy on each side of you. If you see a reporter you want to talk to place a hand on whichever of my shoulders is in their direction, and we’ll allow it. If anyone dares to grab you, scream, and the big guys or Mommy will hurt them. Bear, Chief, you’ve both been deputized, and sworn in, if you have to thump anyone.”
We’d barely made it out the door when Angel shouted loud enough to be heard by us over the crowd. “There’s the egg donor, and she’s doing a photo op with a network reporter. Can we break that up, Mom?”
“You got it, Darling!” Mom led us toward them.
As we neared the reporter he smiled and said, “Here’s Angel Melissa Anderson herself. Do you have anything to say to our viewers after your first visit with your family and day of freedom in over a dozen years?” The monitor overhead went split screen, showing Angel as a laughing baby, and as a beautiful irate young teen.
“Yes, I do! I’m changing my name to Angel Walks in Clouds. I went to the Tsalagi for sanctuary this morning! When I asked Mrs. Anderson earlier if she were my Mommy and reached my arms out for a hug, she laughed, shook my hand and told me, ‘I prefer that you call me Melissa.’ She showed me no affection and no remorse for the hundreds of rapes and beatings I’ve suffered and survived, and all the times I cried myself to sleep while in pain and starving! You can expect my book to be published within a few months and it will describe in great detail how I suffered because those two uncaring people did not protect me from predators!”
Angel looked around and shouted to the spectators, “Be on the alert for missing and abused children, everyone! More of us are out there suffering. I have only one small voice, but I will become a loud voice for them!”
The crowd roared and applauded her statement! Mom told Angel, “You did great, now let’s go find some tail gate tacos and feed you. Where there are this many Tsalagi and pickup trucks there will be tacos and beer!”

Watch for Part two.

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