<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Ginny_07a.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Virginia 'Ginny' Mary Lou Whateley<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Whateley Family<br/><strong>Date:</strong>July 18th, 1874 (Two years before game start.)<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Late Evening, One hour later<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Basement of the Sheriff's Office<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Closed, John Templeton<br/><hr/><br/>The good Lord had a funny way of answering prayers.  First, it seemed as if He didn't care even as those green Whateley eyes, full of wild terror, lingered on the thick cock that Townsend displayed.  While it wasn't her first time seeing such things, it was still a bit of a shock as she shied away even as he forced her legs apart.  Wildly, she tried to kick at him, unable to contain herself or stop herself even if it got her into more trouble.  Panic was really settling in as it looked like a raping was going to happen any second.<br/><br/>The purple head stared at her like a poisonous rattler as Ginny reached the end of the Psalm with no savior in sight.  Surely goodness and mercy seemed to be in a short supply at the moment.  Silently, she offered a curse instead between a mouthful of her own undergarb even as she could feel her tears still rolling down her cheeks.  It was now hard to breathe, her nose running a bit and her mouth packed full, as she gave a very unladylike snort to try and get air and jerked as her wrists bled a bit even as she could feel the heated skin of John Templeton's cock draw down her stomach and press close to her womanhood.  Feeling the devilish heat radiating from his throbbing member even as she pulled as hard as she possibly could, and bit into the cloth as much as she could.  No doubt this was the Hell the Father had always spoke about from the pulpit.  In a singular instant, she was about to have her rights as a woman brutalized and ripped away from her.<br/><br/>Such a deep, black silence, befitting of what was about to happen.<br/><br/>Then, someone came.  And for an instant, Ginny's heart leapt even as she cried in the gag, shouting at the top of her lungs and sobbing in relief that someone had come after all.  Making sure that she go to the confessional twice this week if this was someone who could save her.  Hoping that it was someone who would be able to stop the monster, yet half-terrified that this person would act like so many in Gomorra did.  Tuck their head under their hat and act like things weren't any of their business.<br/><br/>And thankfully, this mysterious stranger didn't leave though it also seemed as if his efforts were in vain and even foolhardy.  For Ginny had wanted a savior, an angel of light, full of righteous fury, come to deal out punishment to the wicked.  Instead, she had gotten a pasty, fairly thin man who looked like every inch of an unblooded greenhorn.  More suited to the books and utterly awkward in his manner compared to John Templeton who had been raised out west and lived a hard life.<br/><br/>The wolfish grin from Townsend told her all she needed to know.  Unless her eyes deceived her, her so-called rescuer would soon be lying on the ground unconscious and things would proceed as they had already been laid out.  So as the men began to slowly circle one another, Ginny wanted to yell at the other man to get out.  To get away!  To get help!  Real help!  What did he think he could do?  John Templeton, swarthy and muscular, would chew him up and spit him out in a matter of seconds.  A bit of self-righteous indignation rose in her breast at this other man, his good will and charitable noble actions not overly respected.<br/><br/>For such things mattered little unless they could alter the result.  Still, his appearance had its benefits.  Like helping Ginny get her tears and terror under control even as she gulped for breath.  Her eyes were still streaming and she still couldn't really take a good breath without first blowing her nose, but she at least wasn't hysterical.  Because even as bad as this milk-faced northerner was, it was better than being alone with Townsend.  If only by a smidgen.  And so, Ginny did what she did best.  She resourcefully gathered herself and waited for her chance, her spine once again stiff and hard now that Townsend's fat rattler was tucked out of sight.<br/><br/>He didn't think her a threat.  And it was right; she wasn't.  But Virginia Whatlely would be looking for her chance to trip up the bigger man if possible.  If John Templeton got a bit too close, then she could use her legs and try and cause him to stumble.  If it worked then all the better.  If not, then it wasn't as if anything else was going to happen to her that was worse than what already was going to happen.  It was barely nothing, but Ginny would be damned if she didn't take some form of action to try and save herself!<br/><br/>The Father in heaven above knew no one else present was capable of doing so.