SEX IN THE WILD WILD WEST (Author Unknown)

PART ONE -- Missionaries

It was a dark and stormy night...

That's a pretty trite way to begin a story, but it's true. The wind was howling like a son-of-a-bitch and the downpour outside was making life miserable for anyone foolish enough to venture out in it. I'd taken refuge in cheap dive down by the harbor where I could drink cheap beer and watch the whores. The whores had all given up on me, but they were fun to watch anyway, as they flashed their tits at the suckers, trying to lure them on. My last beer was about gone and I was wondering if I could con the bartender into running me a tab when Matt Gromley, a sometime acquaintance, was blown in out of the storm. Two other damn fools were with him, but they were so encased in slickers that I had no idea who they were. The three of them took a table in the back of the room and I heard Matt order a bottle.

Matt was about like me, never had enough money for more than a couple of beers, so I figured he must have found himself a real sucker. I was idly trying to decide if it would be worth my while to join them when Matt pulled a stool up beside me.

"Yo Nate. Still hanging around? That beer looks about dry, buy you another?"

I was more than a little taken aback. Matt almost never had any money, and when he did, he never bought drinks. I knew he would expect something in return, but I'd about decided that my chances with the bartender were nil, so I really didn't give a shit. I nodded my assent and a fresh beer appeared in front of me.

"Why don't you bring your beer and join us in back? We've got a fresh bottle," Matt said.

I knew damn well he had a fresh bottle, and my mouth was salivating at the thought of it. I still didn't know what he wanted, but for a crack at that bottle, I was willing to listen to anything.

When I got back there, Matt poured me a drink and then introduced me to his two companions. The first one he introduced as Colonel Broaddus. The Colonel was a tall, slim man, dark hair, silver at the temples. The second one was still bundled up in the slicker. When Matt introduced her as Mrs. Broaddus, I understood why. A woman, especially a married woman, had no business in that den of pimps, whores and cheap liquor. For the life of me, I couldn't understand what she was doing there. We had a couple of drinks and shared several stories, mostly about my adventures leading wagon trains across the plains, but she never said a word.

After about half an hour they left. I was still wondering what they wanted with me, but after I discovered that they'd left better than half the bottle I decided not to worry about it. I had a fine hangover when Matt woke me up the next morning.

"Nate, get your ass up and get presentable. The Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus want to see you."

"Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?"

"The Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus. You remember, those people I introduced you to last night. I think they want to offer you a job, so you better make yourself decent and get on down to the hotel."

"A job? What the fuck do you mean?" I hadn't had a job in so long I'd forgotten what it was like to have change in my pocket.

"Yeah, a job. They need someone to drive their wagons across the plains. I don't know that you're the best, but you're the best that's available. So get yourself together. I'll see you over at the hotel."

I couldn't believe it, a real job. I knocked the dust off of my shirt and had and hurried over to the hotel.

Matt was waiting in the lobby and took me into the dining room where the Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus were having breakfast. The way I felt, I damn near threw up at the sight of food, so it didn't bother me a bit when all they offered me was coffee. I really needed another drink to settle my stomach and clear my head, but I figured that could wait, at least until after the interview.

"Mr. Singletry," the Colonel began. That's me, Richard Nathaniel Singletry, but I go by Nate. I can't remember the last time somebody put "Mr." in front of my name. Son-of-a-bitch or asshole was more what I was used to. "My wife and I are leading a dedicated group of missionaries to convert the heathen Sioux."

That got my attention. If they really planned to take their bible thumping ways to the Sioux, the only thing they were likely to change would be their chances at a long life. I took a long look at both of them. Anybody that fucking crazy, deserved at least that. The Colonel was just as I remembered him -- tall, thin, with a high sweeping forehead. His wife still hadn't said a word, but now that she wasn't covered up with the slicker, I could see her -- at least part of her. She had a good face, strong but not too strong, soft lips and the kind of eyes that made me weak in the knees. Long blond hair hung down to her shoulders, but the rest of her was covered with a black dress, from her neck to her ankles. But even that dress couldn't hide the face that there was a good looking body underneath it. I just felt it was a shame she was going out west to commit suicide. Fortunately, it didn't have anything to do with me.

"Mr. Singletry, Mr. Gromley tells us you're the best wagon master in the business. Somehow I doubt that you're the best, but you are the best we've talked to. We'd like you to lead us to the heathen."

I'd been expecting this, and I was ready. "No Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't do that. When I lead a train I try to stay away from the Sioux. People that don't have a way of winding up dead. And from what you tell me, you don't just want to go across their land, you want to meet up with them. Take my advice. Go back to New York or wherever you came from and leave the Sioux alone. We'll all be happier for it."

I pushed my chair back and got up. "As for me, I'll be on my way. I've got some unfinished business I need to tend to."

Mrs. Broaddus spoke up for the first time. "Mr. Singletry, we're offering five dollars a day, plus meals."

That stopped me. I was used to a dollar a day and having to fend for myself for meals. "What would I be expected to do for this money, Mrs. Broaddus?"

"Just take care of our wagons and horses and lead us across the plains, Mr. Singletry. Mr. Gromley will be along as scout and handyman and the rest of the women will take care of the cooking and cleaning."

I knew what Matt was along for. The only thing he was handy with was a gun. "How many people are in this party?"

"Not counting you and Mr. Gromley, there's twelve of us. Four men and eight women."

I wasn't ready to admit it, but she'd gotten me when she mentioned $5. For that kind of money I'd of introduced them to Sitting Bull. And if the rest of the women looked anything like she did, I might just get lucky.

***

So it were fourteen of us altogether who made the trek out west to save the heathen Indians. Our leader, Colonel Broaddus, was a civil war vet and still liked to keep the title. I said he was our leader, but if the truth were known, his wife, Angela, made all the decisions. She led him around by the nose and the rest of us followed. I was never sure why the rest of them followed her, but I knew what my motives were. She paid me regular and I kept hoping against hope to get into her pants. If she hadn't been so damned straight laced, I'd of balled her in a second. But we were a month out of St. Louis. I'd given up on getting laid and was just hoping to get a smile out of her, but so far I hadn't even gotten that. I figured it was just one of God's practical jokes -- all those good looks wasted on a frigid, domineering bitch like her.

Their daughter, Susan, had inherited her mothers good looks, but fortunately, not her attitudes, except when it came to sex. Like her dad, she was a Milquetoast. Whatever her mother said, that's what she did. I knew I was never going to get anywhere near her, but at least she smiled at me.

The Colonel's assistant, Major Bromley, was a portly man. Not much good for anything, but he could thump a bible with the best of them. I don't think he'd ever been in the war, but he was the Colonel's assistant, so I guess that's where he got the title. Agnes, his wife, was almost as big around as he was. At least she had been when we'd left St. Louis. But a month on the road was starting to slim her down already, and the hornier I got, the better she was starting to look. To be honest, she didn't really look that bad anyway, but losing another 20 or 30 pounds wouldn't hurt her. Like a lot of heavy women, she had a very pretty face and was really quite attractive, despite her girth. She was Angela's assistant and made damn sure the rest of the women stayed in line.

The rest of the Colonel's following consisted of Ned and Maggie Smith, Bob and Priscilla Parker, and three single women, Mabel, Lucille and Rachel. Oh, and Matt and me of course.

If it hadn't of been for the drab clothes they wore every one of the women, even fat Agnes, would have turned heads anywhere she went. I don't know if beauty was one of the Colonel's prerequisites to join the group or not, but it sure seemed that way. After Angela, Priscilla was my favorite. But Bob was a giant of a man and I was afraid he had a jealous streak to match his strength. At any rate, he was big enough that I didn't want to take the chance. All of them were lookers. It was just too bad they wore those ugly clothes.

It turned out that their ugly clothes were a requirement. The Colonel's brand of Christianity required the women to be excessively modest in everything they did. So they all wore plain black skirts that swept the ground. Their matching blouses had long sleeves and a high collar that fit high around the neck. And no makeup of course. On special days they'd decorate themselves with a bit of white lace.

Matt and I had been picked to join the group at the last minute. Matt because he could speak Sioux and was good with a gun and me because I could drive the wagons and knew my way across the desert and the mountains. But neither of us had ever really fit in. The Colonel and his group were bringing Christianity to the heathen Indians, but Matt and I just wanted to get laid. The two of us had long talks and we'd of both given almost anything to get under some of those skirts, but we also knew it would be worth our jobs to even try.

The closest I ever got to any of them was one afternoon after we'd camped near a stream. I'd snuck away to get a couple hours of sleep while they set up camp, and found a dandy place on a high rock overlooking the stream, but out of everybody's sight. I guess I'd been up there for about half an hour when I was woken up by the women laughing as they walked down to the stream. Curiosity beat out my need for sleep and I peered over the edge of the rock to see what they were doing. All thoughts of sleep disappeared when they all peeled off their black dresses and started washing them in the stream. And they made quite a sight, kneeling there in their white bloomers and stays. The good Christian boy my mamma raised would have backed out of there and never said a word to anyone, but I'd long since outgrown that shit. I just knew that I was finally going to get a chance to see what they really looked like.

It wasn't long before Angela stood up, stripped off her undies and dove cleanly into the water. The rest of them followed right behind her. I knew better than to try and sneak any closer; I'd get caught for sure, and that would mean my job. Even at that distance, I could make out their well shaped tits and the darker spot at the juncture of their thighs. With a fertile imagination like mine, just watching them gave me enough memories to last a good long while.

I just couldn't figure these bible thumpers out. They'd all given up comfortable lives back east, just so they could bring civilization to the heathen Indians. Now here we were, camped at the foothills of the Rockies and the heathens were about to tell us that they didn't want our fucking civilization.

Our camp had been overrun during the night. I'm not sure how, I think Bromley had gone to sleep or something, but I really don't know. Gromley and Ned Smith had both been killed trying to defend the camp, but it had been useless. With those two dead, there were only four of us men against about a hundred Indians. It was over in a hurry, and now we were sitting with our wrists and ankles tied, under the watchful eyes of those heathens we were going to civilize.

Then their Chief addressed us. I was amazed that he spoke better English than I did. He gave us a long speech about how he had been taken east as a child and raised in New York, but eventually he had gotten fed up with the white man's ways and come back to his people. The one thing he did miss though was the burlesque shows. Indian women just couldn't get the hang of it. So he was going to have our women put on a little show for all of us to enjoy. After the show was over, they'd keep what they wanted and the rest of us could go on about our business.

I have to admit, I thought it was a pretty good deal. We were going to get out with our lives and it sounded like we were going to get to see the women strip as well. I hadn't had a woman since we'd left St. Louis over two months ago, and every one of these was a good looker. Even the fat one had started to look better as the trip wore her down. If the Indians kept any of the women, well, them's the breaks. At least the rest of us would still be alive.

Major Bromley, however, was having none of it. He was at his bible thumping best. "No, no," he screamed. "You can't force them to do that! These are good Christian women! They'll die before they'll submit to your bestial demands!"

The Chief nodded at one of his henchmen. One round from Gromley's pistol and Bromley joined Ned and Matt, face down in the dirt.

"Is there anyone else who objects to my program?" the Chief asked.

Needless to say, the Colonel, Bob Parker and I just sat there.

The Indians formed a circle and the ladies were led into the center of it. While we had been sitting there, some of the squaws had been supervising them while they had been getting dressed. And they did look nice -- even in their black skirts. They were all wearing plenty of lace and had on full petticoats. Each one of them looked like she was ready for a night on the town and it wasn't even 9 in the morning yet.

One item of apparel I know wasn't in their bags. They were each wearing a collar with a leash attached and they each had a squaw to lead them around. One quick turn around the circle to show us their finery and they were led to a small knoll overlooking the circle. Out of the way, but they could see everything that went on.

Then the Chief called Mrs. Broaddus to the center of the circle. First he apologized for the quality of the music, but there was only so much you could do with a tom-tom.

"Now do not try my patience Mrs. Broaddus. I expect you to dance until we get tired of watching you. You might have to take all your clothes off."

"All my clothes? Then I'd be naked? Naked? You expect me to strip naked? The Colonel's never seen me naked. No! There's no way that I am going to bare myself for you."

"I didn't say you were going to have to. I only said that I expected you to dance until we got tired of watching, and that you might have to take all your clothes off. I'm going to ask you one more time, Mrs. Broaddus. Are you going to dance for us or not?"

"I certainly am not! The nerve! To think that I would even consider disrobing in front of you..."

The Chief didn't say another word. The squaw dropped the leash and Angela looked around for someplace to escape to. I don't know where she thought she was going to go, but it didn't matter. Two of the Indians grabbed her by the arms and held her in the middle of the circle. Then the squaw grabbed Angela's dress at the neck and literally ripped it off of her. Another rip and her petticoats joined the ruined dress. A screaming, blushing Angela was revealed to us in her bodice, bloomers and stockings.

The squaw had moved so quickly that none of us had had a chance to react, although I'm not sure what we could have done anyway. Despite his bonds, the Colonel had started to jump up, but one of the braves placed a knife warningly against his neck and he quieted back down.

I guess Angela thought they were going to stop there. Most of her clothes were off -- the only thing she had left was her underwear. She was still blushing and doing her best to cover herself, but she was regaining some of her composure.

The squaw took the Chief's knife and menacingly advanced toward Angela. "Kill me if you want, but I won't allow myself to be debased this way! I won't take anymore of my clothes off. I won't submit to your profane desires!" she screamed.

But Angela had misunderstood the squaw's intentions. A few quick cuts and the few scraps of dress that remained were removed. Then the squaw placed the knife against her neck.

Ever the proud stoic, Angela raised her head high, revealing the full line of her throat. "Go ahead, cut my throat. But please make it quick. After disgracing me like this, I can never show myself with decent folk again anyway."

One quick slice of the knife and the bodice fell away. Angela was nude from the waist up. She barely had time to gasp as her breasts sprang into view before the knife was slipped in the waistband of her bloomers. Her proud stoicism vanished like a whisp of smoke.

"OHMIGOd!!" she screamed. "MY BREASTS, THEY'RE NAKED! MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME? WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW? OH NO, NOT THAT! OH PLEASE DON'T DO THAT! NOT MY PANTS! LEAVE ME MY BLOOMERS AT LEAST! LEAVE ME SOME MODESTY. DON'T DISGRACE ME COMPLETELY. PLEASE DON'T TAKE MY BLOOMERS OFF TOO! THEN I'LL BE COMPLETELY NAKED!! OH PLEASE, PLEASE DOOOOOOOOOOON'T..."

The bloomers were gone! And she was absolutely right. She was naked. Butt fucking naked except for her shoes and stockings. And the squaw was busy working on those. In less time than she had spent discussing her unveiling, Angela had been stripped naked and her shredded clothing was piled in front of her. By now, even her shoes and stockings were gone. The only thing she had on was her collar and her leash.

I said she was a handsome woman. I was wrong, she was beautiful. With the two braves holding her arms the way they were she was fully exposed and I couldn't help but admire her. I think I said earlier that she was about 40, but despite her age, her breasts were full and firm with none of that sag that normally attacks women her age. Her areoles were the size of silver dollars and the nipples were already hard from this uninvited exposure. The way her hips swelled out from her slender waist reminded me of a 20 year old. I know it was wrong of me, but I was hoping the Chief did strip her daughter, just so we could compare the two. I rather suspected the mother would come out the winner. Angela was blushing before, but now that she was naked, her whole body was tinged with pink. It made a fine accent for the fine mesh of blond pubic hair which barely covered the lips of her pussy.

Angela was in tears. When the Indians released her, she made a desperate grab for her ruined clothing in a feeble attempt to find something, anything to cover herself with. But the squaw would have none of that. Grabbing Angela's leash, she led her around the circle again, but this time the once proud Angela was doing everything she could to conceal her finery.

If our situation hadn't been so precarious, I'd of had to laugh. But she did look ludicrous -- hunkered over to make herself as small as possible, one arm was shielding her tits, but the nipples poked out anyway, and the other hand was over her crotch. And the way she was hobbling along after the squaw, with her knees held tightly together, I thought she was going to fall over.

But she was determined nobody would see her cunt. About halfway around the circle, the squaw stopped to let some Indians examine her up close. That's when the depths of her predicament became apparent to her. One of the Indians grabbed her ass. When Angela moved her hands to protect her backside, other hands immediately covered her exposed tits and twat, tweaking her nipples and pulling her pubic hair. Angela was starting to go into hysterics when the squaw led her away. Eventually, she ended up in front of the Chief, sobbing hysterically and still futilely trying to cover herself.

The Chief appraised his captive for a few minutes. Then he had the squaw turn her around so he could appraise her rump. Her hands were slapped down and they forced her to stand up straight so the braves were treated to an unobstructed view of her tits and pussy. Angela was blushing before. Under this scrutiny she was really blushing. This was the ultimate degradation, stripped naked and put on public display. But she must have been getting a little excited. It might have been the tweaking they had been subjected to earlier, but her nipples were hard and erect.

The Chief's appraisal went on for so long that Angela was starting to get edgy. Surely he hadn't stripped her just so he could see what she looked like. But it seemed like that's all that was going to happen. It was mortifying, standing there naked while the Chief and his Indians looked at her breasts, buttocks and pubic area, but if that's all that was going to happen she knew she should be grateful. At least no one was touching her anymore. She had expected to be raped, and thought she'd rather die, but she was certain she could endure this. She just hoped that nothing worse happened to any of the other women. Then she learned that being stripped publicly wasn't the ultimate degradation.

The Chief nodded and the squaw forced her to bend over and place her hands on her knees. Her feet were kicked apart and then she was told to spread them some more. Bent over like that with her legs spread, she know that her most private parts, her anus and vulva, were completely exposed to the eyes of her captor. And not only his eyes, but his hands as well. She lost what little composure she had left when she felt his hands on her crotch and his fingers probing inside her vagina. Her skin was crawling and it took every bit of her strength not to scream, even before his thumb invaded her anus. Angela was trembling and almost in hysterics again. The Chief had inserted his thumb in her anus and his fingers were inside her vagina. Other hands were rubbing her buttocks, her breasts and pinching her nipples. From somewhere, other fingers seemed to be mauling her delicate clitoris. Then, as quickly as they had started, the hands were taken away.

"Mrs. Broaddus, straighten up and turn around. I like for people to look at me when I'm talking to them. No, don't bother trying to cover yourself. We've already seen everything you've got to offer, and I like to be able to look at the people I'm talking to as well."

Angela quickly put her hands at her sides and stood there, meekly listening to what the Chief had to say.

"There's another of your customs that I learned to enjoy while I was in New York. Spanking, I think you call it. It's something that's normally given to children, but I've found it to be most satisfactory when administered to a grown woman. You've displeased me so you're going to be punished, and those hips of yours are nice and soft and look like they can take a great deal. But I'm going to give you a choice. Would you prefer a spanking on your bare bottom or would you rather have an Indian whipping given to you by the squaws?"

"You wouldn't spank me! You can't whip me like a child! You've already humiliated me enough without putting me over some man's knee. You've stripped me naked for God's sakes, and done it in front everyone. Hasn't that been punishment enough?"

"Mrs. Broaddus, you haven't been punished at all yet. Now, which will it be?"

"Omigod, you're serious, aren't you? You really do intend to whip me. But why? What reason have I given you to want to whip me?"

"I don't need a reason, Mrs. Broaddus. The fact that I want to is reason enough. Added to that though, you refused to do what I asked. Your refusal and the fact that your delectable rear end just looks like it's begging for a spanking is more than enough reason to give it one."

"Ohhh God. W-w-what is this Indian whipping like?"

"A flogging, Mrs. Broaddus. Given by five of my squaws. I promise you, when they're done, you'll know you've been whipped. And I know you'll be well marked. But at least you won't have to endure the humiliation of being turned over my knee. Now hurry up and make up your mind. You're starting to try my patience. If you don't decide soon, I'll make sure you get both."

"A-a-a flogging!? Oh God, I know I couldn't stand that. If, if I'm going to have to submit to more punishment, I'll... I'll take the spanking. At least with that, I know what to expect. Where are you going to spank me? You... you will take me someplace private, I hope. You won't spank me here in public, will you?"

"Where am I going to spank you? Why, I'm going to spank you on your bare ass, Mrs. Broaddus. Where else does one get a spanking? And if you were wondering where we are going to be while I'm spanking you, we're going to be right here where your husband and everyone else can watch you jump. Might do him some good to learn how to get your attention. Now get over here and let's get started or would you like a flogging as well."

Sobbing in embarrassment, Angela clamored over his lap, her pelvis resting on his right leg and her naked breasts flopping against his left. He carefully positioned her with her ass elevated and turned so that we could see it. With her head down like that, I know she was trying to picture how she must look to us with her ass facing us like it was. Almost involuntarily, her legs and ass cheeks clenched tight and her ass seemed to blush a little more. Then he proceeded to wallop her butt. I was fascinated as the color of her delicate skin turned first to a darker pink and then to bright red. Angela tried to be a stoic about the whole thing, but I was sure that wouldn't last. She did better than I expected though. Up until her ass started to turn bright red she kept her mouth shut and her legs tightly clenched together. Then something broke inside of her and suddenly she was kicking, screaming and wailing loud enough to wake the dead.

SMACK! THWACK! SMACK! "Aiiee! Oh God! You're killing me!" THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! "My bottom, my poor bottom!" THWACK! THWACK! "You're peeling the skin off it, I know..." THWACK! "... you are." THWACK! THWACK!

The Chief sort of smiled at this, but kept right on beating her ass. I don't know if she was aware of it or not, or even if she cared at that point, but the way her legs were flailing around she was displaying all of her innermost secrets. She'd kept everybody but the Chief from seeing them before, but now her cunt and asshole were fully exposed to all of us.

THWACK! "Oh God, I can't take any more!" THWACK! "Please give me another chance," THWACK! "Please let me dance for you!" THWACK!

"You can't strip any more, Mrs. Broaddus. You're naked. Your clothes were ripped off of you, remember?" THWACK! THWACK! "And that's what the dance was all about."

PART TWO

"Oh God, please stop beating me." THWACK! "My bottom is burning so bad." THWACK! THWACK! "I've, I've got more clothes, really I do." THWACK! "Oh, oh, oh please, I'll go put them on and then I'll strip for you." THWACK! THWACK! "I'll do anything you want, really I will."

THWACK! "No, I don't think so, Mrs. Broaddus. I think you're going to do anything I want anyway. Now you just lie here and be patient. I'll be through in a little while."

Angela sort of gave up at that. But she sure didn't quit screaming or flailing about. She'd shown us her cunt before. Now she was showing us the inside of it.

When the Chief finished her spanking, her entire bottom was cherry red and she had been reduced to whimpering and weeping.

Holding her in position, the Chief began massaging the buttocks he had so recently punished. Under this gentle touch, Angela's ass began to move involuntarily in time with his rubbing, but she was really moving it when he ran his fingers down her slit. She was still sobbing and whimpering, but she was grinding her crotch against his leg. "See how responsive she is," the Chief told his squaw. "And look at her snatch. It's dripping and begging me to stick something in it. But not now. She didn't want to play, so now she has to pay. Take her and feed her to the ants. They should keep this twat nice and warm until we're ready for her."

Blushing deeply at the way her body had betrayed her, Angela was led to the edge of the circle where she was staked out, face down in the dirt and spreadeagled. I don't think it was lost on Angela that in this position, her ass was available to them for whatever they might want to use it for, whether it was another whipping or sticking something in it. Nonetheless, I think it was a real surprise when she found out what they had planned for her. One of the Indians had found our supplies and handed the squaw a jar of syrup which she poured down the crack of her ass and rubbed all over her pussy -- "just to sweeten it up a bit".

While they had been staking her out, one of the squaws had been busy with Bromley. Cutting his prick off, she carried it over to where Angela was, stuffed it in her mouth and tied it in place with a bit of her ruined clothing.

Leaving the woman in her misery, with ants already crawling over her cunt and the dead prick filling her mouth, the Chief called for Mrs. Bromley.

"Oh no," she cried. "Haven't you done enough with poor Angela? Why do you need me too?"

"Come along now, Mrs. Bromley. You wouldn't want her to suffer alone, would you? You know what they say, 'misery loves company', so get down here and quit blubbering."

Sobbing, Agnes Bromley picked her way down the hill to where the Chief was. Like he had with Angela, he explained in detail what he wanted her to do.

"Oh God, please no!" she wept. "Shoot me, let me join my husband, but please don't strip me of my dignity."

Her begging did no good at all, other than getting her out of having to dance. The squaws had learned how effective the knife was at removing clothes, so she was probably stripped even faster than Angela had been. In less time than it would have taken me to say "Agnes, take your clothes off," she was just as naked as Angela was. And just like Angela had been, she was shown off to everyone in the circle, and then presented to the Chief. Her short, plump body didn't look bad at all. None of those rolls of fat I had expected. She was just a smooth pudgy body with tits and a cunt. Or she would have been smooth if it hadn't been for her cunt hair. Her snatch was thickly covered with the most incredible mass of pubic hair I had ever seen. The curly hairs even covered her lower belly and part of the inside of her legs. It was literally a pelt. Of course the Chief had her spread her legs so everyone could see and feel it. After she had been thoroughly poked and prodded, just to make sure there really was a pussy under all that hair, the Chief addressed her.

"Mrs. Broaddus got the spanking, Agnes. So you're going to get to show us how the whipping is done."

Agnes' jaw went slack. She'd been speechless ever since they started stripping her, but now she truly didn't know what to say. She was sure she wasn't going to be showing anyone how a whipping was done. Rather, they were going to be showing her. And she knew it was going to be on her body that she was shown. She was already screaming as the braves carried her over to a nearby tree. Her wrists were tied together and the rope was thrown over a branch of the tree. Then Agnes was hauled up until her feet were dangling off of the ground. I hate to admit it, but Agnes looked even better like this. Stretched out the way she was, her body had more shape and wasn't quite so round. Her arms pulled over her head like they were caused her tits to stick straight out. Like I said before, she'd lost a lot of weight since we left St. Louis, but a few more pounds would be all right. I had no doubt that by the time this ordeal was over she would have lost that and then some. Hell, if we ever got back to civilization, she'd probably be a damn good looking woman.

Five of the squaws gathered around her, each one carrying a vicious looking leather strap. First, each of them grabbed a handful of her pubic mat and tugged vigorously, coming away with a handful of cunt hair. Then they proceeded to lash her with the straps until she was spinning around and around. As soon as the rope was twisted tight, then they started lashing her in the other direction. They continued lashing her in this fashion, first to the left and then to the right, until Agnes' body was a mass of welts from her shoulders to the back of her calves. Even her tits and pussy had gotten their share. Her tits were crimson and the only thing protecting her pussy was what she had left of that wonderful pelt.

Finally the Chief had them cut her down and told them to stake her out near Angela. But Angela was on her belly, with her ass in the air. Agnes was stretched out flat on her back.

The Chief sat down beside her and began speaking in a gentle tone. "Mrs. Bromley, earlier you expressed a desire to join your husband. If you haven't learned your lessons yet, you might still get the chance. But I don't think you'd really enjoy that, and it would be a terrible waste of this fat pussy." With that he combed his fingers through her fleece and began diddling her clit. Still speaking in a conversational tone, he asked, "Have you heard of scalping, Mrs. Bromley? Let me explain it to you. It's normally done on a living person, and from what I've been told is not a pleasant experience." With his other hand, he grabbed the dead Bromley and pulled him up by his hair. A quick slice with the knife and Bromley's scalp came away in his hand. "Now Mrs. Bromley, you can either do what you're told, or I'm going to scalp you, HERE!" He tightened his grip on her fleece and laid the bloody knife on the side of her cunt.

Agnes was in hysterics. "OH GOD NO, PLEASE NO, I'LL DO ANYTHING, WHATEVER YOU WANT, ANYTHING, JUST PLEASE DON'T DO THAT."

"Anything, Mrs. Bromley?"

"OH YES, ANYTHING, ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TO DO. JUST DON'T SCALP ME LIKE THAT! I COULDN'T STAND THAT!"

One of the braves strode over to Agnes. Lifting up his loin cloth, he knelt over her face. Agnes surprised us all by knowing just what to do. When the dick was presented to her lips she immediately sucked the thing down. I'm tempted to say she sucked as though her life depended on it, but this time it really did. The first brave was followed by five more and she was just as professional with all of them. There was no question in my mind that she'd done that sort of thing before. And I don't think Bromley had been the only beneficiary. She was far to professional for that.

Before returning to his show, the Chief set the squaw to the task of pulling out what was left of Agnes' cunt hair. "I'd like that pussy to be bald before we turn her loose."

Maggie Smith was next. The other two women had been punished severely when they refused to strip and Maggie was determined that that wouldn't happen to her. She couldn't imagine a whipping, or even a spanking on her tender buttocks. And then to be staked out... She was sure she was going to be raped, but even that was preferable to what had happened to Angela and Agnes. As soon as she entered the circle, she started tearing at her clothes. And it seemed like she couldn't wait to get out of them. Ripping and tearing, her clothing was soon ripped to shreds and Maggie was naked. Exceedingly embarrassed, but butt fucking naked. Standing with her arms at her sides, afraid to cover her cunt or shield her tits, she was sobbing as she listened to the Chief berate her. She had thought that by debasing herself like this, she was doing what was expected. Now she was being chastised for her eagerness.

"I told you I wanted burlesque. If I'd just wanted you naked, I wouldn't have given you anything to put on in the first place." Turning to the squaw he said: "Give her a whipping and then have her bring all her clothes out here. We'll see if she has anything else that's acceptable. If she does, she can try again. If not, well..."

Almost immediately, Maggie was thrown down on her stomach and the squaw was astraddle her back. About twenty or thirty good solid licks to her upturned ass and Maggie was led, sobbing, back to the tents.

Then it was Priscilla's turn. Bob was visibly agitated, even more so than the Colonel had been. He didn't want her to do this, but he knew what would happen to him if he interfered, and what would surely happen to her if she refused. It didn't really matter. Unless he wanted to join Bromley, it was out of his hands.

Priscilla wasn't at all sure what to do, but she was sure she didn't want the same fate as any of the other three. Not even Maggie. She knew she couldn't bear having her bottom whipped, but she really didn't want it whipped in front of her husband. But Bob had always gotten excited when she took her clothes off and showed her naked bosom to him. Maybe if she did the same thing for the Chief he'd let her go. Bob got real excited when she showed him her naked bottom, but maybe she wouldn't have to go that far. If she was real lucky, maybe she could get away with just exposing her breasts.

But Priscilla had never been a stripper. Stripping for her husband and stripping for an audience were two different things. She took her clothes off, but that's the kindest thing you could say for the way she did it. Slowly she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off of her shoulders. Unfastening her skirt, she let it fall to the ground. With a nervous look at her audience, her petticoats soon followed. Putting off the inevitable as long as possible, she sat down and pulled off her shoes and stockings.

Unfastening her stays, she let them drop and her gorgeous breasts were free. I could tell her hands were itching to cover them, but she was afraid to. Naked, except for her bloomers, she walked around the circle exhibiting those gorgeous breasts for everyone to see. I think it was sometime during that circuit that she started to really started to understand what was expected of her. By the end of her parade, she was flaunting her tits, not just exhibiting them. When she ended her circuit she was standing directly in front of me. Ever since I'd met her, I'd envied Bob his good luck. Now here she was, almost naked and so close I could touch her. Glancing at Bob, she mouthed a silent "I'm sorry", and untied her bloomers. Pushing them down over her beautiful hips, she stepped out of them and kicked them to the side.

I could have died. I'd had wet dreams about something like this and now here I was, face-to-face with the most beautiful cunt this side of St. Louis and my hands were tied so I couldn't even touch it. I made myself many promises that day, but one of them was that I was going to get into that box.

And then she started to dance. It still wasn't sensuous, but considering how reticent she'd been before, her dancing was positively scandalous. She swayed and jiggled and twisted all over her dance floor. As a final gesture, she curtsied as she presented herself to the Chief and his Indians. Except for her collar, she was butt naked, and with her hands clasped behind her back she was fully exposed. There was no question about her obedience. She was demonstrating to all of us that she was fully compliant and available for anything the Chief might want of her. And she had done this in full view of her husband. Bob was apoplectic. But the body she was presenting was beautiful. Her tits were well shaped and stood up of their own accord. And the nipples were hard and were sticking straight out. Her waist was narrow and flared out over a gorgeous pair of hips. And her pussy... God what a pussy... Her cunt hair was light brown and very fine. It covered her snatch, but just barely. The pussy lips were plainly visible through it.

Like I said, Bob was apoplectic. He just knew they were going to rape her on the spot. I was sure that was going to happen, but I didn't think it would happen just yet. It was just too bad she hadn't figured out sooner what the Chief wanted.

The Chief proved me right when he announced: "That was better, but it's still not burlesque. You're supposed to dance while you're stripping, not just take your clothes off." Grabbing his limp member, he finished his statement. "Your supposed to make my dick hard." Turning to the squaw he told her to whip Priscilla and then take her back to tents to collect all of her clothes. Like Maggie, if she had anything else that was acceptable, she might be allowed to try again.

"Oh please," Priscilla begged. "Whip me if you want, but let me try again before you do."

"In case you hadn't noticed, girl, you're naked. You don't have anything left to take off. How can you strip again?"

"I... I... When I started to undress, I didn't realize what you expected of me. I knew you had stripped the other women naked, but I didn't think you would expect that of me. Foolishly, I thought if I showed you my breasts, somehow that would appease you and you'd let me keep my pants on. But I know better now, I know you'll never let me go just halfway. Please let me try again. Even without my clothes, I know I can do better." She made a frame around her pussy. "Let me show this off for you. I'm, I'm sure I can m-m-make your d-d-d-dick hard. If I don't," she turned around and bent over, presenting her ass to him, "then whip my fanny if you still want to, but please let me try first."

Shrugging, the Chief said, "Your fanny looks like it's begging to be whipped anyway. Okay, go ahead. But you'd better be good. If I'm not satisfied, you'll be hanging from the tree like Mrs. Bromley was earlier and it won't be just your fanny that gets whipped."

Priscilla spun away and really began to dance. I know she was spurred on by the threat of the flogging, but she really went all out. She was flashing her pussy all over the place and jiggling her tits in the Indians' faces. But Bob turned green when she grabbed an Indian and fell to her knees in front of him. Lifting up his loin cloth she sucked his dick down and did her best to make Agnes look like an amateur. Finishing with him, she moved on to a second, and then a third. She had the third one lie down on his back and she knelt over him, ass incitingly stuck up in the air. Looking back over her shoulder, she patted her fanny provocatively. The Indians didn't need a second invitation. She had five of them in both of her holes before the Chief ordered her to stand up.

"That was very good Mrs. Parker. Now you've made my dick hard. Maybe later I'll allow you to suck it off. But you should have done that in the first place! Go get your clothing. If you have anything that's acceptable, you can dance again later."

Smiling, a naked Priscilla was led off. She had cum leaking from her ass, cunt, and down her cheeks, but at least she hadn't been whipped. And she'd already been fucked more times today than Bob had fucked her in the past month.

There were still four women left. I was wondering which one of them was going to be next when the Chief walked over to where Angela was squirming.

"Ahh, I see the ants are enjoying their meal. Earlier you said you'd do whatever I wanted, but I'm not sure you were serious. Now are you ready to do what you're told, Mrs. Broaddus?"

Angela couldn't speak around her penis gag, but from the way she was shaking her head, it was evident what she was thinking.

"Very well, flip her over. We'll give the ants and the sun a chance at her other side."

Angela was soon reversed and her tits and cunt were coated with syrup. The Chief had just turned to walk away when he seemed to have second thoughts.

Turning back to Angela, he grabbed a handful of her pussy hair. "I'm tired of dallying with you, Mrs. Broaddus." Laying the knife beside her cunt, he said, "I know you saw the little demonstration I put on for Mrs. Bromley. Now, unless you want to know what it feels like to be scalped, you'll do whatever you're told."

Angela was in shock. She'd already said she'd do whatever he wanted, and now he was threatening to cut her twat off. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, but the only thing we could hear was grunts as she tried to vocalize around the prick that was still filling her mouth.

"I think the bitch is trying to say something. Get that thing out of her mouth so I can understand her."

As soon as her mouth was free, Angela whimpered, "Oh please, please, I'll do whatever you say. Anything you want me to do, I'll do. Just take that knife away. Please take it off my vagina. I'll do anything."

Cutting away her bonds, the Chief ordered her to her knees. "The last one made me hard, now I want you to suck me off. But I'm not ready to cum yet. So make me enjoy it, but don't let me cum. And you better be good at it."

Angela went at it with gusto, but I don't think she'd ever sucked a dick before. She obviously didn't have Agnes' or Priscilla's proficiency. But what she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Her hands were all over his ass and balls, pulling him closer to her. And she did her best to suck him all in. She couldn't make it though. He was just too big and she hadn't learned the knack of getting his dick down her throat. It was a good thing he didn't want to cum. She'd of probably gagged if he started shooting his load down her throat. It wasn't long though, before the Chief was pushing her away and the front of his loincloth was standing straight out.

"One more thing. We've stripped you of your clothes, now I want you to finish it off. Just so I won't be tempted to scalp you later, I want you to do it for me. By the time your finished, your cunt should be bald." Throwing his knife to her, he walked back to his place in the circle.

I was sure Angela was tempted to see if she could bury the knife in his back, but she didn't. Dutifully, she spread her legs and proceeded to shave every hair from her twat. Dry shaving is no fun any time, but she endured it, even spreading her legs wide to get the tender skin between her pussy and asshole. She must have been starting to learn something. I was really surprised when she rolled over on her belly, raised her ass in the air with her legs spread wide, and invited her squaw to shave the hair around her asshole. The squaw was really conscientious about it, spreading Angela's cheeks to shave her ass and then rubbing her hands all over her pussy, just to make sure all the bristle was gone.

When the squaw was finished, Angela returned the knife to the Chief and presented him with a gleaming, naked snatch. After examining her to make sure that neither she nor the squaw had missed any of her curly hairs, the Chief had her show herself to the Colonel, Bob and myself. For this exhibition, she was made to bend over, spread her legs, show us, and invite us to feel, every inch of her pussy and asshole. Except for her spanking, I know she was more embarrassed by this than anything else that had happened to her. The Indians violating her privacy was a passing event she could put behind her. But we were her friends and her husband. She was going to have to live with us, and the knowledge that we had seen and touched her most intimate places, for a good long while. The Colonel tried not to look, but his dick was as hard as Bob's and mine were.

While Angela was still displaying her charms for us, the Chief called one of his lieutenants over. She must of been getting inured to this public exhibition. She blushed deeply, but she didn't flinch when he spread her pussy lips to show the lieutenant. After pointing out all her attributes -- tits, nipples, mouth, pussy and asshole -- he said: "Take this one back to your men. She does well with her mouth, but I'm sure these other holes are good too. But I recommend you start out by giving her a spanking." Giving her a pop on the ass, he went on, "Notice how resilient these ass cheeks are. They're perfect for paddling and I noticed before that it excites her when you do that. Better, why don't you let all of your men spank her. She should be begging to get fucked after that."

Impatiently, the lieutenant led her to the other side of the circle. After gathering his men around, he drew her over his lap and proceeded to blister her fanny. After thirty or so licks, just like the Chief had recommended, he passed her off to one of his men. There must have been fifteen men in the group. If she was going to get a paddling like that from each of them, I knew she wouldn't be sitting down for a while. And if the Chief was right about her getting excited when she was spanked, she was going to be real excited before they were done.

Susan begged and pleaded, but he wouldn't give her another chance. She was carried over to the same spot her mother had recently occupied and spread out between the same stakes. Syrup was poured over her tits and cunt, and then she was left screaming as the ants began exploring both of her delightful crannies. I felt sorry for her, but it was nice to see that she had the same blond hair her mother used to have. And the Chief had kept his promise. He hadn't stripped her naked. She'd lost her shoes somewhere, but she still had on her stockings. The only thing any of the other women had been allowed to keep on had been their wedding bands.

PART THREE

Other than Maggie and Priscilla, who we'd already seen, the three single girls were the only ones left. The Chief called Mabel, but one of the squaws stopped him and had a hurried conversation. The Chief smiled and held up his hand for silence.

"I think we're finally going to get some cooperation. I've just been told that there's a new dance from Paris that these last three would like to perform for us. But their costumes require a bit of preparation. So, while they're getting ready, we can amuse ourselves with our other toys. How's Mrs. Broaddus doing? I haven't paid her any attention in a while."

Mrs. Broaddus seemed to be doing just fine. At least her ass wasn't being beat. She was on her back, legs spread wide, with a brave pounding it to her. The squaw who had taken such delight in ripping Angela's clothes off had stripped naked herself was squatting down with Angela's nose buried in her twat. The look on her face seemed to indicate that Angela had learned to eat pussy as well as she had learned to suck dick. And Angela had had plenty of dick. I don't think she had spent more than a minute without one shoved in her mouth or her cunt since she'd been given to the braves. She'd probably had more cock run in and out of her in the last thirty minutes than she had in ten years previous.

"Well, she seems to be occupied. And I wouldn't want to interrupt a girl at work. Especially when she's enjoying it as much as this one seems to be. But why don't you bring her over here where the Colonel can see better? I'm sure it will be very educational for him. In the meantime, I think I'll go play with Mrs. Bromley. She's been neglected long enough."

I'm sure Agnes didn't feel as though she'd been neglected. While we had been otherwise occupied, her squaw had been busily harvesting her fleece. Where Agnes had once had a bountiful pelt, she was now nearly bald. The skin on her pussy and between her legs was raw and sore where the hair had been pulled out.

"That's looking good, Wailing Song. It'll look better when you finish though. Looks like she's still got some hair around her slit and in the crack of her ass. You can take care of that later though. Right now, why don't you untie her?"

While Wailing Song loosened her bonds, the Chief spoke to Agnes. "Have you ever been butt fucked, Mrs. Bromley?"

"W-w-what?" she stammered.

"It's a simple question Mrs. Bromley. Have you ever been butt fucked? You've got a fine looking ass, so I'd be surprised if you hadn't. Has any man ever used you that way? You know, stuck his prick in here?" the Chief finished as he shoved his thumb up her asshole.

"N-n-n-ngggggg! Y-y-yes," Agnes confessed. "That was Joshua's favorite way. He said he liked that hole better than my regular one."

"Good. I hope it was your favorite way too, because you're about to get it again. If it was his favorite way, you should know the best position to be in, so turn over and get in it. Unless you'd rather be staked out again."

Some people might say that Agnes had learned that refusal would just earn her another beating, but I think she just needed some dick real bad and didn't really care who's it was or where it was put, just so long as it was put in her. With no hesitation at all, she rolled over, pulled her knees underneath her and raised her ass high in the air. Spreading her legs as wide as possible, her pussy and asshole were both gaping wide, begging to be used. Her pussy was dripping, so the Chief fucked there first. But after about three strokes, he pulled out, aimed a couple of inches higher, and teased her asshole with the head of his prick.

Agnes immediately started shoving back against him. "Please, please put it back in me," she whimpered.

"What do you want, Mrs. Bromley?"

"Fuck me, oh please fuck me. Don't leave me like this."

"In your ass?"

"Oh yes, my ass, my pussy, wherever you like. Just please fuck me. My ass, oh yes, please fuck my ass."

Shoving forward, the Chief parted her sphincter and buried his well lubricated prick deep in her bowels. Agnes had been giving him a ride when he was in her cunt. When he entered her asshole she went absolutely wild and really started bucking, meeting each of his thrusts and humping hard, trying to get more and more of him inside of her. When he finished and pulled out she was still whimpering, begging for more.

"This slut still wants more. Who wants to see if he can satisfy her?" A dozen of his braves lined up to take their turn at the same hole. It was going to be a while before Agnes could shit or even sit down comfortably, but judging from the way she was waving her ass around, she seemed to be enjoying it for now.

The three women hadn't returned from the tents yet, so the Chief decided to give Maggie and Priscilla their chance. Priscilla was selected to go first and Bob turned green again as she pranced down the hill, her bare ass and pussy both peeking out from under the chemise. He had almost lost his mind when she had danced before. Now it was her turn again and she had promised a better show than she'd given them the last time. I wasn't at all sure the poor man could stand it. The braves had moved Angela to the side, but she was still close enough that we could hear the groans as she sucked and fucked all comers. Bob was sure that even if his wife didn't put out during her show, she would be joining Angela as soon as she finished her dance.

Priscilla went to the center of the circle and struck a pose. Then the drum started. I don't know where she had learned, but in the last couple of hours since she had narrowly missed a whipping she had figured out what to do. She turned and twirled, flashing her ass as she did. As the tempo of the music picked up, so did the tempo of her dance. One of the braves jumped up to dance with her and Priscilla began rubbing against him, climbing all over him. Laughing, the two of them fell backward into the crowd. When Priscilla came up, she had lost her chemise, but she had acquired the braves loincloth. Wrapping it casually around her waist she began to dance around the circle, stopping at each group to feel and be felt. At the first group, she selected one brave and danced him out to the center of the circle. Unfastening his loincloth, she draped it around her neck and fell to her knees in front of him. Pulling him into her mouth, she sucked vigorously until her cheeks were bulging out from his cum.

She continued around the circle in this fashion, acquiring another loincloth at each group, until she reached the group next to where we were sitting. She selected her brave like before, but the rest of them wouldn't let her go. Finally she led three of them to the middle of the circle. Dropping her collection in a pile, she danced around the three of them, tugging and pulling until she had three more loincloths to add to her pile. Then she really went to work, waving her ass and pussy at them, and sticking her tits in their face. She even humped their legs, the way a dog does when it's in heat. Needless to say, she had three hard-ons standing proudly in front of her.

She pushed the first brave onto his back and impaled herself on him. Then she leaned forward and pointed to her asshole. The second one was quick to accept her offer and buried himself in her quivering bunghole. The third one made full use of her mouth. Priscilla was doing three men at the same time and seemed to be loving every minute of it. They all came at the same time and you could almost see the fireworks going off over them.

One by one, the three braves pulled out of her and staggered back to their group. Priscilla seemed to be exhilarated though. She danced around the circle like some sort of fairy sprite, high on some kind of drug. Then she landed in front of me.

"Hello Nate. I hope you're enjoying this. I certainly am. I never realized what I was missing, that fucking could be so much fun. But I've seen the way you've been watching all of us, hoping to see something, ever since we left St. Louis. You were too much of a gentleman though to do anything about it. Well, here I am, and I hope it's more than you ever expected to see." With that, she plopped herself down in my lap and shoved a tit in my face. Then she reached between my legs and grabbed my prick.

"Oh my, so big and hard. Why haven't you done anything about it?"

I tried to explain that they hadn't let us get up, and that this was the closest I'd been to anything since we'd left St. Louis. But with my mouth full of boob, the words just wouldn't come out. They didn't seem important enough to quit sucking that beautiful tit anyway.

"Well, not to worry. I just want you to know, I'm at your disposal -- completely. Oh Gooooood! Talk about keeping a civil tongue in your head. I've never met one more civil than yours, Sir. I know I'll get a chance to reciprocate later. And maybe, after I've had a chance to clean up, I can see if your tongue works as well in other places."

Then she gave my prick a little pinch and a pat and danced away. I just about came in my pants. Her next stop was the Colonel. She rubbed her tits in his face and humped his leg, just like she'd done withe the Indians. I don't know what she said to him, but when she danced away, the Colonel was gasping.

She was on her way over to Bob when the Chief called her. It was probably just as well. The state he was in, I don't think he could of stood his wife sitting in his lap and behaving like a slut in full view of everyone. And him not even getting any. Priscilla gave the Chief the same treatment she had given me, but then he pushed her to her knees. Priscilla knew full well what was expected of her and didn't hesitate a second. Unfastening his breechcloth, she freed his manhood and sucked every bit of it down her throat. As the music ended, Priscilla was on her knees in front of all of us, sucking as she'd never sucked before. This was the second time for the Chief, so it took him a bit longer than before. But when he finally came, it was a gusher. Priscilla's cheeks bulged out and she was gulping frantically while the Chief pumped in and out of her mouth.

As he sat down, he pulled her with him and sat her in his lap. Lucille, Mabel and Rachel were finally back from the tent, so the Chief ordered them up next. Reluctantly he lifted Priscilla off of his lap and handed her over to one of his lieutenants. There was an audible slurp as his dick slipped out of her cunt.

Bob had been right about one thing. The lieutenant took her over near where Angela was. Priscilla was really getting into the swing of things. He didn't even have to tell her what he wanted. She just fell to her knees in front of him, unfastened his loincloth, and slurped his manhood down. After the lieutenant dumped his load down her throat he left her kneeling in the dust. So now the Indians had two sucking machines, ready and eager for anyone who came along. And there were plenty. The two girls were kept constantly busy with a parade of Indians. If they could live off of cum, we wouldn't have to feed them for a week.

The three dancers took their places in the center of the circle. They posed for a few minutes to let us admire their handiwork while they waited for the music to start. And they had really done a lot of work. They were still wearing the same black dresses, but you wouldn't have believed it. The high necks were completely gone and the blouses had been cut low in the back and the front, exposing a lot of cleavage and the upper part of their breasts. The long skirts had been shortened to well above their knees. They each had on two or three extra petticoats, but these had been shortened to the same length as the dress. As short as their dresses were, it was obvious that they were wearing their bloomers, but even these were different. They'd cut the sides out and shortened them, and then sewn bits of lace where they had cut them. High heel shoes and little ankle socks completed the outfit. I tell you, it was a sight. Bare calves and bare shoulders were quite risque. If they hadn't of been preceded by absolute nudity, we'd of all been shocked.

When the drum began, they linked their arms together and started dancing around and around, kicking their legs in unison. They were kicking so high that their bloomers were visible all the way up to their crotch. They had lace sewn there too. It might of been my imagination, but I could of sworn I could see pussy hair through the lace. When the dance was over, they turned around and bent over, flipped their skirts up over their back and exposed the backside of their bloomers to all of us.

It was fun. It wasn't nearly as wanton or sensual as the Chief wanted, but it was fun. And after the show Priscilla had just given us, I think everyone needed a break. I guess the Indians thought so too, 'cause they were all stomping their feet and whooping for more.

The girls had no illusions as to what was expected of them. Their first dance had been a success, but they knew they were going to have to improve on it. They'd seen what happened to Susan, so they also knew that before they were finished, they'd better be naked. But just being naked wasn't enough. So far, all the women had been stripped, but Priscilla was the only one who hadn't been whipped. So they knew they had to be good, otherwise their asses would be the next ones turned up.

When the music started again, they loosened their bloomers and let them flutter to their ankles. Stepping out of them, they kicked up their heels and all three pairs went sailing into the crowd. Then they started the can-can again, kicking their legs just as high as before. This time I knew it wasn't my imagination. Every time they kicked, three hairy slits were visible to all of us. And when they did their finale, it was three gorgeous moons that were facing towards us.

Mabel and Lucille stood to the side and clapped their hands in time to the drum while Rachel moved to the center of the circle. She danced around for a few minutes and then zoomed in on the far side of the group. She danced over to that side and worked those men hard, sitting on a lap here, a quick kiss there, grabbing a crotch and getting grabbed in return. In a few places, she left a petticoat, promising to return for it later. Finally she danced back to the center of the ring where the fire was still smoldering. Grabbing her dress at the bust line, she ripped it off and dropped it on the hot coals. Naked, except for her shoes and ankle socks, she walked back over to the men she had been working and stood there clapping while Mabel stepped into the ring.

The three of them had to have rehearsed their act. Mabel went through exactly the same ritual that Rachel had, except in a different section of the circle. Then there were two naked beauties clapping while Lucille stepped into the ring. Lucille's share of the ring included the section where we were sitting, so naturally the Chief's lap was one of the first ones she sat on. But when she went to get up, he grabbed her dress and jerked it off of her. Another jerk and he had her petticoats. Lucille had to work her men the same as Mabel and Rachel had, but when she sat on our laps, she was fully naked. My only regret is that my hands were still tied and I couldn't fondle her tits and ass in return. Despite that, I know I enjoyed it and from the flushed look on her face, I think she did too.

The Chief called the three of them together to congratulate them and to show them his cock. Miraculously, it was hard again. But he was starting to feel sorry for the Colonel, Bob, and me. Everybody else was getting laid and sucked off, and the only thing we'd gotten had been a few feels. So he told the three of them to take care of us -- to relieve our tensions. Lucille went to the Colonel, Mabel went to Bob, and Rachel wound up in my lap. Our hands were still tied and we still had our pants on, so I wasn't quite sure how this was going to relieve our tension, if anything, it was making mine worse. But Rachel was an inventive lady. Besides that, I think she was just incredibly horny after all the fondling she'd gotten. Before I quite knew what was happening, she had my pants down around my ankles and was stuffing my boner up her hairy twat.

Lucille and Mabel must have been just as horny as she was, 'cause the Colonel and Bob were enjoying a similar experience. There was fucking and sucking everywhere. The line behind Agnes' asshole had gotten longer and Angela and Priscilla were still on their knees, taking on all comers. Besides our women, most of the squaws had stripped off their robes and were getting a workout of their own. I guess the Chief was getting bored. Rachel and I were just getting into it when he called Maggie to perform. It's not that we weren't interested in watching her dance, it's just that we were otherwise preoccupied.

Maggie couldn't believe what was expected of her. She wasn't quite sure what to do and she had even less of an idea how to get anyone's attention with all this sucking and fucking going on all around her. The last time he'd called her, she'd ripped her clothes off. Stripped herself naked and gotten whipped for her pains. She was determined not to get whipped again. She stood there quietly with her head bowed for a few moments.

Then, when the drum increased in intensity, she squared her shoulders back and began to dance. I don't know what came over her, but God, what a dance it was. It got all of our attention, no matter what we were doing. I know she'd never learned those steps in the proper schools she went to back east. It might have been some primordial knowledge, something buried somewhere back in her instincts, or maybe she was just a natural slut. I don't know what it was, but she was awesome. She twisted and turned and undulated around the circle. Whenever she stopped, she would kick her legs high, causing the french panties to gape open and expose her pussy.

As if by second nature, she seemed to sense when the Indians were ready for more. She gripped her chemise by the hem and smoothly pulled it over her head. She completed the motion by throwing the chemise into a group of her most ardent admirers. And then she strutted, literally strutted around the circle. When she had stripped before she had been shy and nervous, a wilting flower.

And it had been obvious. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what had happened to her, but this was not the same woman who had torn her clothes off earlier in a futile effort to please the Chief. Now she was turned on, proud of her body and proud of the way she was arousing her audience. Her nipples were fully erect and she made sure every man got a good look at them. Even the women were watching her. I was sure I saw Angela and Priscilla both licking their lips.

When she bent over and pushed her panties down in back to expose her ass there were ooohhhs and aaahhhs from everyone. I know Rachel was juicing more than I would have expected. Her fingers were busy busy working her clit while she squirmed on my prick. Maggie stood there for a few minutes, bent over and twitching her ass cheeks in time to the drum. It wasn't long before everyone joined in and was clapping their hands in time to her ass twitch. I don't know what she had, but it was something special. She was dancing for everyone, but she made everyone feel that she was dancing just for him.

After the ass twitching she pulled her panties back up tight into the crack of her ass and her slit. Then she straddled the tree stump and started humping, I know that every man there felt like she was fucking him and him alone. When she climbed off of the tree stump she still had her panties on, but they were sopping wet. I can't speak for anyone else, but I know the rod I had shoved up Rachel's cunt was harder than any I'd ever given anyone before. And Rachel was appreciative of it. She was grabbing my balls, squeezing my dick, and humping me harder than I'd ever been humped in my life. And then I came, shooting what seemed like gallons of cum deep into her womb. After that, everything seemed to be anti-climatic. Maggie wasn't dancing anymore and I was about to pass out. So the two of us just sat there, relishing the closeness the two of us had shared, with my prick still buried in her and her pussy twitching around it.

The Chief had taken the place of the tree stump was fucking Maggie. As many times as he had cum, I was surprised that he could still get it up, but there he was. She was flat on her back with her legs in the air and he was pounding in and out of her. And she was loving every minute of it. When he finally climbed off of her, she was begging for more. And the Indians were eager to oblige her. Brave after brave filled her eager hole. Then they flipped her over and went to work on her backside. I never got a chance at Maggie, but the way the braves were going after her, fucking her must have been just as special as watching her had been. I made myself a promise that I would fill that gap in my experience as soon as possible.

I think it was exhaustion more than anything else that finally caused everyone to start settling down. We'd been fucking and sucking since early in the morning. We hadn't even stopped for lunch, and now the sun was starting to settle behind the mountains. They raided our supplies and added a couple of deer they had to them, and pretty soon the squaws were preparing a wonderful stew. By Indian custom, the women served the men first. As hungry as I was, anything would have tasted good, but this stew was delicious. I don't know what they put in it, but it didn't taste like anything we'd brought across the plains with us. And of course, being served by willing, naked women made the meal even better. Naturally, our women were still naked, but the squaws hadn't gotten dressed either. The contrast of naked brown and white bodies flitting back and forth as they brought us plates of food was a memory to treasure.

After the meal, three of the squaws sucked off the Colonel, Bob, and myself. The Chief said it was their desert, but I think it was a pay back. They'd been enjoying our women all day, so he wanted to give us a chance at theirs.

They had untied Susan in time for her to share the meal. I know it was her own fault, but I had to feel sorry for her as she limped over to where we were sitting. The ants had been busy while we were fucking around all day. Her pussy and tits were covered with bites, but at least the syrup had been cleaned off. I think she learned her lesson though. While the squaw was blowing me, I noticed that she was getting her desert too. The Indian who had whipped her earlier had her kneeling between his legs. Her head was bobbing up and down, and this time she seemed to be doing it properly.

As exhausted as we were, everyone was soon drifting off to sleep. Rachel tried to snuggle up next to me, but two young braves came by and found her. They carried her out in the firelight and she was soon thrashing and kicking and generally doing her best to satisfy both of them.

It was just as well that she had been carried away. She was still thrashing around out by the fire when the squaws who had sucked us off earlier came back. They didn't speak any English, but after a lot of hand signs we figured out that they felt that since they had sucked us, it was only fair that we suck them in return. We felt that it was our diplomatic duty to oblige them, so the Colonel, Bob and I buried our faces in squaw cunt. And you know, no one is ever satisfied with just eating pussy. After you eat it, you just gotta fuck it, so we did our best to pound their asses into the sand. I guess we did all right. They seemed to be three very satisfied young ladies as they wandered back to their tents.

I was just getting to sleep again when a warm body cuddled up against me. "Oh Nate," Priscilla whispered. "I know you've been busy, but is that magic tongue of yours still available? I got a chance to wash up, so my pussy is all fresh and clean for you."

How could I refuse a request like that, especially coming from this lady. In no time at all I had reversed my position and the two of us were locked in a sixty-nine embrace. I was chewing on her clit and she was sucking my balls when suddenly a shadow fell over us. Priscilla went rigid and I looked up to see Bob standing there in the moonlight.

"Oh God," I thought. "The son of a bitch has lost it now for sure. It doesn't matter that she's probably sucked or fucked every Indian in camp, this mother fucker is going to kill me."

But he was surprisingly calm. "Don't stop what you're doing Priscilla. I know how long he's been wanting it, and I'm sure Nate's getting a real charge out of this. I just want to try some of what I've been missing all this time. Three years we've been married and it's just now I'm finding out you've got two other holes."

Without letting her take her mouth off my dick, he rearranged Priscilla so that she was positioned just like she had been earlier. On her hands and knees, sucking my dick with her legs spread and her ass stuck up in the air. With all the butt fucking she'd had that day, Priscilla was already stretched and well lubricated. With one stroke, Bob was buried up to the balls in his wife's asshole. Priscilla hadn't been alone in her fucking. Bob and I had been busy too, so I figured it would take a while for any of us to cum. But surprisingly, in just a few minutes, the three of us reached our climax together and Priscilla was getting filled in both ends.

Then Bob had us switch positions. "You can use her asshole if you want, Nate, but I think she'd like some straight fucking. I've been fucking her for three years, and this is the horniest I've ever seen her. Her pussy's so wet, it's gushing. I can guarangoddamntee you, she knows how to use it. If she doesn't make it snap on you, whip her ass till she does." Sticking his dick in Priscilla's face he said: "Priscilla, I don't know where you learned all those tricks we saw today, but I think you should show them to us. While you're showing Nate your snapping pussy, you can show me how your mouth works. Up till this afternoon, I thought the only thing it was good for was talking and eating."

Priscilla eagerly ran her tongue over his balls and dick while I moved into position behind her. Almost automatically, her legs parted to welcome me. Her pussy was winking at me, begging me to come on in. This was a scene from one of my fantasies. First she had sucked me while her husband had buggered her, and now she was sucking him while I was getting ready to fuck her. Just to make sure, I grabbed her crotch. Bob was right. She was dripping and so horny she tried to fuck my hand. With one stroke, I was buried up to the balls in her exquisite quim.

So there she was again, sucking and fucking at the same time. But this time, at least, she was getting her a proper fucking. Long, slow strokes. And the way she was moving her hips, I know she was loving every one of them. And she really did know how to use her twat. Like Bob had said, it was a snapper. Every time I tried to pull out, it snapped hungrily at my dick, sucking it back in. I don't know how many times she got fucked that day, but I'd like to think she liked my fucking the best.

After that we kind of passed out. I was spooned up on one side of her, nestled against her ass and Bob was on the other with his head snuggled in her tits. I can't speak for the two of them, but exhaustion overtook me. I was out till the following morning.

***

When I came to, the sun was up and the camp was a buzz of activity. My first reaction was disappointment that Priscilla was gone. Bob was still there, but the space between us was empty. Then I saw her. She was with the rest of the women, preparing the morning meal. The Indian women were clothed of course, but it was no real surprise to see that our women were all still just as naked as they had been the night before.

After breakfast, the Chief gathered everyone into the circle again. Bob, the Colonel and I were back in the same places we'd been in yesterday, but this time they hadn't tied us up. Lucille, Mabel and Rachel were sent over to join us with an admonition to make sure we were entertained. I don't know where Lucille and Mabel had spent the night, but they weren't in to the swing of things yet this morning. They shyly approached the Colonel and Bob with their hands over their pussies and sat on the ground beside them. Rachel, on the other hand, wasn't a bit bashful. I knew where she'd been at least part of the evening and she was ready for more.

She plunked herself down in my lap and wiggled just a little to get herself comfortable. When she'd done that to me the day before, my hands had been tied, but now they were free. I immediately grabbed a handful of bare tit and a handful of cunt. It seemed like as good a way as any to wait to see what was going to happen. Then the Chief told the rest of the women to find a place wherever they would be most comfortable. Angela and Priscilla were both torn between pride and desire. They knew that the Colonel and Bob expected them to join them, but by this time Lucille and Mabel had overcome their modesty and were in the men's laps. The women knew they'd have to share their husband's dicks, but if they chose a brave, they'd have as much as they could handle. Finally, their sense of propriety overcame their jealously and they joined us, Angela between the Colonel and Bob, and Priscilla between Bob and me.

PART FOUR

Maggie didn't have their problem. She'd had so many dicks the day before that she couldn't make up her mind which one was her favorite. After some consideration, she selected a particularly strong looking brave and curled up on the ground beside him. I was only a little surprised when Susan found her Indian, the same one who had abused her rear end and then made it up to her by letting her suck him off. But I was really surprised by Agnes. She went trotting off to a group of half a dozen braves, flopped down on the ground with her knees under her and raised her ass in the air, ready for whatever they might throw at her.

I wasn't at all sure what was going to happen, but I was sure this couldn't last. So I felt like I better take advantage of the good times while I could. And I was in an enviable spot. Rachel was doing her best to occupy all of my attention, but Priscilla was close enough for me to reach. Bob took care of her right tit while I took care of her left. Everybody was getting into the swing of things. Susan had a dick in her mouth and Agnes had one up her butt. I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like Maggie had one in all three holes. Our little group wasn't doing anything yet, but that was only because with five naked women and only three men, we hadn't figured out what to do. Then the Chief started to talk again.

"Yesterday, three of these women missed their opportunity to dance for us. So if the three of you will present yourselves to us, we'll see about giving you another chance."

Reluctantly, Agnes and Susan separated themselves from their dicks and joined Angela in front of the Chief. They had learned something from Priscilla, so they curtsied properly and then stood. The difference in appearance was the fact that Susan had blond pubic hair. And Angela, of course, had none. Even Agnes was looking good. For a fat girl, she looked good anyway, but all that ass fucking had really made her glow. I had never had a chance to butt fuck very much, but if I got the chance, I was going to make sure that chubby butt was well reamed.

"Okay ladies, none of you danced yesterday, so now is your chance. I don't think Susan is ready to put clothing over her ant bites and sunburn yet, so she can entertain us while the two of you fetch your clothes. You can get dressed if you want, it really doesn't matter. Just make sure you bring the rest of your clothes out here with you. All of them."

Angela and Agnes scurried off to the wagons while Susan stood there.

"Please, Sir," she said. "It's not that I don't want to dance, but I really don't know how. Maybe if Maggie or Priscilla could give me some instruction? Really, Sir, I could dance much better for you then."

"Give her another whipping," one of the squaws screamed. "She learned how to suck cock that way, she can learn to dance that way too."

"No," the Chief said. "At least she's honest. So we're going to give her the chance, with both of them. Maggie, Priscilla, get up here. Show this girl how to dance. But I don't want either of you to do anything. Just show her how, it's her dance."

I don't know if Maggie and Priscilla were eager to be the center of attention or if they had finally learned what would happen to them if they were slow to respond to the Chief's wishes. But they were up there in a flash. They took Susan over to where a group of squaws were sitting and there was a great deal of conspiratorial whispering. Then Maggie approached the Chief.

"Begging your pardon, Sir, but I'd like to request some leniency for my student. It's not that she's reluctant to perform -- as a matter of fact, she's eager -- it's just that she doesn't have any idea what to do. We're working on a plan which I believe will surprise you, but it's going to take us a few minutes to get it together. If you agree to this, then either Priscilla or I could entertain you while she's getting ready."

"But if one of you is entertaining us, that will make it just that much longer before she's ready, won't it?"

"Yes Sir, it will. But we felt we should present it to you as an option."

"Well, I don't find that option acceptable. But I don't think it will matter. Here comes her mother and Mrs. Bromley. They can entertain us until she's ready."

Angela and Agnes were sashaying down the path with a couple of squaws behind them, carrying their luggage. I don't know where they had gotten their dresses, but I was sure they weren't on the Colonel's approved list of clothing. I took one look at him and I knew they weren't. Lucille had his pants open and was chewing on his rod, but even that didn't distract him. He was livid.

Both women were dressed to a "T". Angela was wearing a full length, red velvet evening gown, cut low over her breasts and revealing a lot of cleavage. If we hadn't already seen her naked, I'd of thought this dress was scandalous. The front of the skirt was cut in a wide "V", showing off a lacy, white underskirt. She had on a matching hat with a wide brim, a long white egret feather, and a black lace veil.

Agnes was dressed identical to her, except that her outfit was emerald green. And they were both carrying matching parasols.

They sashayed up to the Chief and curtsied low, spreading their skirts wide. "With your permission, Sir," Angela said, "we would like to perform for you and your men."

The Chief nodded his approval and the two of them rose to their feet. Twirling their parasols, they sauntered around the circle. It was really a promenade, shoulders back, breasts thrust out, and hips swaying from left to right. And as they paraded around, they looked at and smiled at their audience. They'd learned the value of eye contact. Every man there had the feeling that they were showing themselves off just for him.

And they were showing off. They were flaunting themselves for the whole tribe, but they were also flaunting themselves to each individual. Then they started to dance, twisting and swaying, their skirts flowing gracefully behind them. As the music picked up, they began spinning, their skirts billowing up around them and exposing their legs. And the Colonel got another surprise. It wasn't the plain, white cotton bloomers they were exposing. Their legs were encased in long stockings that came half way up their thighs and were held in place by red garters. And if that weren't enough, their legs were topped off by sexy french cut panties, just like Maggie had work earlier. I figured it was just a good thing for him that Lucille was where she was and doing what she was doing. The poor man's blood pressure would have probably gone over the top if she hadn't been there to relieve it.

Agnes started doing a funny little dance step, similar to what the girls had done earlier with their can-can number. Angela soon joined her, but added an embellishment. She grabbed the front of her skirt and lifted it up to her waist, baring herself from the waist down. Agnes followed suit, and the two of them were dancing, decently covered in back, but only shielded in front by the skimpy panties and long silk stockings.

The danced over to where we were sitting, Agnes intruding on the Colonel's blowjob and Angela interrupting the mutual grope that Rachel and I were indulging ourselves in. After flouncing their skirts at us for a few seconds, they turned their backs on us so they could show off their legs to the Indians. Then I heard Angela whisper over her shoulder. "Unfasten my dress, would you please, Nate? I was afraid to let one of the Indians do it. They'd of just ripped it off of me."

While I could sympathize with the Indian's attitude, I understood where Angela was coming from. The dress was far too pretty to turn into a pile of rags. As carefully as I could, I unfastened the buttons that ran all the way down her back. Lucille was still sucking away, but the Colonel was doing the same favor for Agnes. When the buttons were undone, the dresses fell away and the ladies stepped out of them and we all got another surprise. They were both wearing those new fangled contraptions, brassieres I think they're called, over their chests. These were the first I'd ever seen, but I really think the idea might catch on. They really looked nice, all lacy and such. But what was best was what they did for the tits. They held them out, sort of presenting them to us, rather than squashing them flat like a bodice does.

Twirling their parasols over their shoulders, they dropped their hats on top the dresses and danced across their stage, twisting and swaying like they had before. Except that this time, the skirt wasn't flowing behind them. It's funny how it works. Their tits and asses were still covered, but somehow they were more enticing with just the brassieres and panties than they had been when they were fully naked. Apparently I wasn't the only one who felt that way. Even the women who were helping prepare Susan stopped what they were doing to watch.

Rachel and Priscilla had gathered up their dresses and put them behind us. When the brassieres came off, they threw them to Priscilla who put them back with the dresses. Now that their breasts were bare, the dancing got more frenetic. With tits swinging to and fro, I was afraid they were going to hurt themselves. And I was sure that Agnes was going to give herself a black eye. But somehow, they pulled it off.

Angela had the crowning movement though. Standing on her tip toes, she raised herself up as tall as she could, tits sticking out proudly. Then she suddenly bent forward at the waist, and slipped the panties down over her hips. Twirling about, the panties fluttered to her ankles. With a little dancer's kick, she stepped out of them and stood to the side. The change that had come over her was nothing short of amazing. Yesterday when she had been stripped she had hunkered over, and used one hand to shield her bush while the other vainly tried to shield her tits. Now she was standing straight, shoulders thrown back and legs slightly spread, proudly displaying her nakedness while she waited for Agnes to catch up. And today she didn't even have a bush to hide.

Agnes knew she could never emulate the way Angela had removed her last veil, so she didn't even try. But while her method wasn't nearly as spectacular, it was just as effective. Pushing her panties low on her hips, she danced up to the nearest Indian. Rubbing her groin in his face, the Indian had little choice. Gently, he rolled her panties down and pulled them off. And when she turned around, we had another surprise. While she and Angela were in the tent, they had trimmed her cunt. After the way her hair had been pulled out, her pelt had been looking pretty ragged. But now it was neat and clean. The only thing left of her luxurious pelt was a neat little heart, centered directly above her slit.

The two women danced their way over to where the Chief sat. Keeping her legs straight, Angela's spread them as wide as she could and bent over, touching her hands to the ground. Looking back at the Chief, she said: "Please, Sir. Would you fuck my ass?"

"Have you ever been butt fucked, Mrs. Broaddus?"

"N-n-n-no," she quavered.

"Then I think you should offer that prize to your husband. After he's broken you in, come back and I'll oblige you. And while she's doing that -- Mrs. Bromley, why don't you introduce Nate to the joys of sodomy?"

Agnes pranced right over and waved her cute little heart in my face, so close that I could have stuck out my tongue and licked it. "Hello Nate," she whispered. "I've been wondering when I was going to get a chance at you." She twitched her hips and shoved her snatch a little closer. "You remember yesterday when the Chief was worried about me feeling neglected? Well, Agnes is fine. With all the attention I've been getting, I don't feel neglected at all. But my poor little pussy -- she feels like an orphan. Nobody's been paying any attention to her at all. Everybody wants to go up my backside. Please don't misunderstand me. I want you up there, but would you give me a good hard fucking first. Then you can use my asshole all you want."

I had to admit, it did look good. Of course, as close as she'd gotten, the only thing I could see was cunt lips and clit. I kissed, dead in the middle of her twat, licked her clit, and pushed her away. Poor Agnes. One touch from my tongue and she was a quivering mass of jelly.

"Agnes, I promise to take good care of your little orphan for you. I see what you mean, she does feel neglected. But right now, I want to watch Angela. So why don't you kneel down and keep me entertained while I see what the Colonel does. I seem to remember you showed considerable talent with your mouth too. But don't let me come. As soon as the Colonel's done, it'll be your turn, and I want to be sure and have enough spunk left for both your nether holes."

With no further invitation, Agnes fell to her knees and went to work. I was in heaven. Naked female flesh was all around me, I was about to watch Angela lose her anal virginity, and I was getting the best blowjob of my life.

Where Agnes had been eager, Angela was mortified. Fucking and sucking, even publicly, didn't seem to bother her anymore. And I don't even think the prospect of giving up her rosebud bothered her too much. But giving it up to the Colonel was another story. He was a Milquetoast and had always done whatever she told him to. But she knew that once she let him use her rectum, those days were gone forever. She'd never have that control over him again. Particularly if he was the first one to get into her ass. But she knew better than to refuse. Whatever the Chief wanted, that's what he got. Unless she wanted to be whipped and fed to the ants again. Reluctantly, she danced over to the Colonel, presented her backside to him, and made a similar request. I said similar. With the Chief, she'd asked him directly to fuck her ass. With the Colonel, she couldn't quite get the words out.

"Homer, would you... would you please..." she whimpered.

The Colonel was already feeling his new power. Patting Lucille on the head, he pulled her face out of his crotch and pushed her gently to the side. "Would I what, Angela?"

"Oh please Homer. W-w-would you p-p-put your thing in my..."

"Would I put what thing where, Angela?"

"Oh Homer, please don't embarrass me this way. You know what I mean, don't make me say it."

"No Angela, I don't know what you mean. Now are you going to tell me what you want and why you want it, or should I send you back to the Chief?"

"Goddamn you, Homer. Fuck my ass. There, I've said it. I need to get laid. You saw me just now. I tried to give up my asshole, but he said you had to do it first. So would you please shove your prick up my asshole and fuck me? I'll suck you or whatever you want after that, but please fuck my ass first."

I don't think he would have sent her back to the Chief. When he stood up, he was sporting a hard-on to be proud of and I know he had to have someplace to put it. But making her beg like he did was good. I think her begging changed their relationship more than the butt fucking ever could. Placing the head of his dick on her sphincter muscle, he rammed it home -- and Angela's anal cherry was history.

Homer (I made myself a promise never to call him "the Colonel" again) was pounding away at Angela's ass. I don't know if he thought he might never get a chance to fuck again, or he was making up for all those years he had been subservient to her. Whatever it was, he was giving her asshole a first-class reaming. And Angela had changed too. When he first entered her, she had cried and begged him to be gentle. But now she was eagerly meeting his thrusts and screaming for more. It looked like she was on her way to becoming as enthusiastic an ass fucker as Agnes was.

Finally Homer dropped his load. Angela seemed to want to slump down on the ground and rest, but Homer would have none of that. Taking her hand, he led her back over to where the Chief was waiting. After thanking the Chief for letting him have her cherry, he gave her to the Chief and then returned to a still willing Lucille. If her begging and ass fucking had left any doubts in Angela's mind as to her new status, being given away like this should have dispelled all of them. She was property -- to be used and exchanged as we saw fit. She barely whimpered as the Chief spread her out on her belly with her ass in the air. And her asshole was reamed again, and again, and again. After the Chief was finished, he had half a dozen more of his henchmen make sure her cherry was really gone.

***

In the meantime, I turned my attention to Agnes. I pulled her off of my dick just in time. If I'd waited another minute, I'd of filled her mouth and that would have been it for fucking for a while. As it was, my dick was twitching and begging for release. But I wasn't ready yet. I laid her on her back and spread her legs wide. No one had fucked her and I'd promised to take care of her pussy first, so right now seemed like a good time for some hair pie. I'm not a prude, but when it comes to eating, I prefer to go where no man has been before, at least recently.

One touch of my tongue and Agnes spasmed on me. And she kept right on spasming. As my tongue probed deeper, she wrapped her legs around my head. I thought she was going to crush my skull. I know she cut off my air. I had to eat in order to breathe. Finally, with a shuddering orgasm, her legs flopped loosely to the side. For a minute I thought the woman had passed out. I don't think she'd ever been eaten before. She'd obviously given plenty of blowjobs, but I doubt that anyone had ever returned the favor. But I'd promised to take care of her pussy and that's what I intended to do. Eating was only half of it. What she needed was a good fucking. I slid up her body, and her pussy welcomed me in. I couldn't believe the way she bucked. I thought she was going to throw me off, but she wrapped her arms and legs around me and pulled me in deeper. It just proved what I'd always been told. Don't ever turn down a fat broad. They're more appreciative than the skinny ones.

Eventually, she collapsed again and I rolled off. But Agnes was all over me, kissing and sucking, my balls and my dick. She even stuck her tongue up my asshole. Then she sat up and smiled.

"Nate, that was the best ever. I thought I'd been fucked before, but I've never had it like that. I don't know what's going to happen to us, but... but if it works out and they let us live, please let me stay with you. I know I'm fat and you'll want someone else for a wife, but please keep me. I'll be good to you, Nate. Just keep me around as a concubine or something." Rolling over on her stomach, she stuck her ass up in the air. "Now please, shove that wonderful prick up my butt. You can stick it anywhere, anytime you want, but right now your concubine wants it in her ass."

This was a new twist. I'd never had a woman at my beck and call before, but a willing one like this didn't seem like too bad an idea. But I thought I'd check out her sincerity before I went any further. I'd noticed a mark on some of the squaw's rumps and I knew a little of this tribes customs. And if they let us live, I thought I knew a way to keep her.

"Agnes, do you understand what you're saying? You know a concubine is really no more than a slave, except she's a sex slave. Do you really want me to enslave you?"

"I never really thought about it before, but I guess you're right. They really are no more than sex slaves, are they? Oh yes Nate, that's what I want! Oh, please fuck me hard. I'm getting horny just thinking about it."

"I grew up in the south. Before the war, my father and Joshua both kept a couple of girls around to use and abuse whenever and however they felt like it. And I know, use and abuse meant sharing the girls with all of their friends and whipping them, sometimes just because they wanted to. Sometimes they used to invite their friends over and the girls would be there, with nothing on but their undies. I can just imagine, you having a big party back east. And me serving the food and drinks, with nothing on but my bloomers and bodice. Or maybe with nothing on at all, just like I am now. Yes Nate, that's what I want. Use me all you want, share me and humiliate me all you want, even whip me all you want. Just please fuck me once in a while. Now please, stick your prick in my ass. Butt fuck me, Nate! Show me you want me!"

Now came the test. As I slipped my dick up her chocolate channel I told her my idea. "If I'm going to enslave you, Agnes, we're going to have to do it with the Chief's blessings. Otherwise, he'll probably take you with him when he goes and leave me here alone." Agnes grunted her agreement with this, so I went on. "I don't know if you noticed or not, but this tribe does keep slaves. And their slaves are branded. If the Chief were to agree to this, I'm sure he would insist on your being branded as well."

Agnes' head snapped up at this. "Branded!" she exclaimed.

"Yes Agnes. Right here!" I slapped her on the ass cheek to mark the spot. I could see the thought playing around in her head as she ground her ass back harder on my rod. I don't know what I had expected, but she didn't seem to be nearly as repelled by the idea as I had anticipated.

At length Agnes spoke again. "If-if I'm branded, I'll be marked forever as your slave. You could still sell me or give me away, but I could never deny what I was. If someone took me, or even if I just ran away, as soon as I took my pants off, whoever saw me would know. And as passionate as I am, I know I couldn't keep my pants on for long. Oh Nate, then I'd really be yours. Can we ask him now, Nate?"

I was still sawing in and out of her asshole. I know that if she was my slave, I could do this anytime I wanted, but for now I was only concerned with the short time. "Certainly not now, and not until after Susan does her dance. Let's make sure he's in a good mood. For now, you can be my temporary slave. Now show me what you can do with this asshole. I want to know what I'm getting."

"Yes Nate, whatever you say. I already feel like your slave. The Chief will just make it official. But, but even if he doesn't brand me, will you mark me later?" With that, she really started to grind her ass. Agnes was a natural fuck, and she gave fantastic blowjobs, but her asshole was where her talent really was. In no time at all, I was shooting my load deep into her bowels, but her sphincter kept gripping my prick, as if it were trying to milk it of every drop of come.

Bob had overheard our conversation, and seemed to be very interested in its outcome. As soon as I was finished, I passed my new slave on to him. "Do whatever you want with her, but give her back when you're done."

He returned the favor by handing Mabel to me. As she sat in my lap, she leaned up and whispered in my ear: "Are you really going to make her your slave, Nate? That sounds so, so decadent."

"Why not? She seems to be taking well to it. Besides, if the Chief allows it, it might be the only way any of us get out of here. From the way he's been acting, I think he'll let the men go. I'm hoping he'll let us keep our slaves. Only thing is, you women are going to have to declare yourselves. What Agnes doesn't realize, is that slaves don't belong to one person. She'd be my slave first, but she'd really belong to my whole tribe. And if we stay together, then you're my tribe."

"You mean... You mean she'd belong to all of us? But what if I declared...? Ohhh Nate, that ideas not decadent, it's positively scandalous. But deliciously scandalous. Think you could get this thing hard again? I can't believe how wet I'm getting, just thinking about it."

"Well Mabel. I might be able to, but you'll probably have to talk me into it."

Rachel had been listening intently to this conversation. "You mean, if we don't declare ourselves to be your slaves, they might take us with them to their camp?"

"Well, there's no telling what they might do, but that's a pretty good bet. Indians have a healthy respect for property, particularly if they feel like they've given it to you. They might let everyone go, but then again, they might decide to enslave, or even kill all of us. There's just no telling." I knew I had put some thoughts in both their heads. It was too soon to tell where they might go with them, but life just might prove to be very interesting.

Mabel had just slipped off my lap and taken me in her mouth when Susan made her appearance. She was stunning. That's really all that needs to be said, but I'll try to describe her anyway. The Indian women had given her some of their clothes -- a pair of moccasins, aprons (similar to a breech cloth, but without a covering through the crotch), and a vest. The vest was too small and kept falling open so that we could see that her nipples had been heavily rouged. And they'd given her a bath and makeup -- dark eye shadow and lipstick. Her hair had been cleaned, brushed and tied in a long pigtail. She'd been beautiful all along. Cleaned up and made up, she was gorgeous.

When the drum started, she started to dance. The squaws had taught her a few Indian steps and she was doing a pretty fair imitation of a Sioux war dance. Or more likely, a mating dance. She really wasn't very good, but she was exquisite; and she tried hard. And the braves were appreciative. She was doing her best and they knew it. She didn't even need to take anything off. With every step, the vest flashed open, showing off her tits, and every time she turned, the aprons would expose her ass or cunt or both. Speaking of which, Maggie and Priscilla had taken care of that too. Her cunt hair had been trimmed up, just like Agnes' and the little bit that was left had been darkened to show it off better. Then they had accented her pussy lips with rouge. She was a virgin when she started, but I didn't think she'd still be able to claim that by the time today was over.

One of the braves jumped into the circle and started dancing with her. Then he threw her to one of his friends. She was passed around the circle like this, each one grabbing a feel before he passed her on. By the time she landed in front of the Chief, she had lost the vest and the aprons. The only thing she had left were the moccasins and her collar.

Bringing herself to her knees, she looked at the Chief beseechingly. "Sir," she began. "I'm entirely at your mercy, but would you do me the favor of ridding me of my virginity?"

I think even the Chief was surprised by this request, but he handled it well. "Which virginity did you have in mind?" he asked.

"All of them, Sir. My vagina and my anus. Or as Nate would put it, my asshole and my cunt."

I resented that. Never in my life had I talked to her like that. But she was right. It would never have occurred to me to use those other words for her two nether holes.

After due consideration, the Chief answered her. "My dear, I don't know if you were watching or not, but I just participated in your mothers anal deflowering. As desirable as you are, it will take me a few minutes to recover. Pick your partner for your formal deflowering. After that's been accomplished, we'll see to your other hole. Now run, go get him and bring him back here."

Happily, Susan jumped up and ran off. Lots of men, to include me, had hope, but I don't think anyone was surprised when she came back with her big Indian buck.

But if she thought she was going to lose her hymen in private, she had a surprise coming. A couple of squaws took over and led her into the center of the circle, calling for Maggie and Priscilla to help. They laid her down on her back and then one of them grabbed her ankles and bent them back over her head, spreading them wide while she did it. Maggie was given one ankle while the squaw held the other. The other squaw took a jar of buffalo grease and spread it liberally all over her cunt and asshole, making sure she got plenty inside of both holes. Then the Indian was brought into the circle. Priscilla was placed on her knees and instructed to make sure he was good and hard. Our bashful Priscilla went at it with gusto, tongue and lips everywhere. When he was finally deemed ready, she stood back and the Indian knelt between Susan's outstretched legs. One thrust and he was in. One scream from Susan and she was eagerly thrusting back at him. And she was screaming again, but they were different. Now they were eager, encouraging screams as she struggled to pull him deeper and deeper into her cavity.

The brave no sooner emptied his load and pulled out, than his place was taken by the Chief. He'd had Priscilla and Angela both working on him ever since Susan started getting screwed, so now he was more than ready. Judging from her reaction, Susan thought he was more than ready too. Maggie and the squaw pulled her ankles down which canted her asshole up higher, but Susan could still see the Chief approaching between her outstretched legs. From her perspective, it looked like he was carrying twelve inches of rock hard flesh that he was fixing to ram up her defenseless butt.

And then the Chief was upon her. She let out one fearful whimper, but other than that, she was quiet, waiting for the onslaught. It took a bit of poking and prodding, but finally, with the aid of the buffalo grease, he parted her sphincter. With a mighty shove, punctuated by an earsplitting scream from Susan, he buried himself deep in her rectum. And it was done. Susan had lost all her virginity, her mouth, her pussy, and now her asshole. When he finished, the two women turned her over on her belly and left her kneeling in the dust, ass turned up and legs parted, readily available for everyone's use. A line of men, eager to try out this fresh stuff, quickly formed. I know, I know, I'm a son-of-a-bitch. I was number two in line.

Well, Susan got her share of dick that afternoon. She certainly didn't get as much as Maggie or Priscilla, but I think she got more than any of the other women. While we were waiting in line, the Chief had Maggie and Priscilla going up and down the line, making sure everyone stayed hard. He took care of Angela himself, alternating between having her suck him off and shoving his dick up her ass. He might of used her cunt once in a while, but her asshole got the brunt of it. Finally he called a halt to our use of Susan and the poor girl sank to the ground, exhausted but still willing.

THE END