Legal Stuff:

The following story contains graphical descriptions of violence, bondage, and non-consensual sex.  If you are not of legal age, are a resident of a state or territory that forbids, or are easily offended by erotic material...Stop!  Leave!  Go away!

The author does not condone violence, kidnapping, or other illegal actions contained in this fictional work.  The author believes all bondage and sexual activity should be SAFE, SANE, and CONSENTUAL.

Characters and scenes depicted are fictional unless otherwise noted by the author.  Many of the characters and scenes portrayed within are inspired by erotic artwork, erotic photography, and erotic fiction found in the public domain.  Any resemblance to actual people or real life situations is purely coincidental.  Any resemblance to another author's fictional work is also strictly coincidental unless otherwise noted. 

This work is protected by U.S. copyrights.  The author gives you permission to post this story on any newsgroup, web page, or other public forum under the following conditions.  1) The story must published in its entirety; 2) The contents of the story may not be altered; 3) you may not charge any money for access to your site, including membership fees or download charges.  AVS services will not be construed as charging for your site.

(c) Copyright 2000 - ygb
 
The author welcomes comments.  Comments may be sent via e-mail to the author.  His address is: 
* your_good_boy@hotmail.com


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Authors note (04/24/2000):  

For "fans" of the Drew Thomas Fantasy Series, this story is similar in context.  The obvious difference is the time setting.  Just for convenience, the author named this character Andrew Thomas.  Just think of him as Drew's great great grandfather.  Afterall, they seem to have similar tendencies.

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For you history buffs, I have tried to keep this story historically accurate.  Southern Wyoming, where this story takes place was divided between the Nebraska and Utah territories.  The California and Oregon trails really followed the path described.  The station names used in the story are actual Pony Express stations.  In some cases, they were also forts or trading posts.  Many were just log cabins with a barn and corral.

The Pony Express only existed for nineteen months in 1860-1861.  The riders weighed about one hundred and fifty pounds.  They rode sixty to seventy-five miles each day.  They carried 1851 Colt Navy pistols (.36 caliber, 5 shot, non-automatic revolvers).  The station houses were armed with Spencer or Sharp carbine rifles.  The riders were to ride as fast as they could and only fight as a last resort.

The Indians that inhabited the region were a little more difficult for the author to pinpoint.  The Utes were the predominant tribe in Utah, just West of this story's location.  The Cheyenne, the Crow, the Pawnee, and the Arapaho appear to be the tribes which would inhabit the areas in question.  The author took literary license to assume the Blackfeet, who would be just Nortwest of this area would conduct raids in this area.  

So much for History 101.  On with the story .....



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The Pony Rider
A Supplement to The Drew Thomas Fantasy Series
Written by: your good boy


Chapter 1 - Hell at Devil's Gate


"Hmmphh!"  I groaned as my butt slammed with bone-rattling force into the saddle.  My horse had landed gracefully as he jumped a tree that had fallen across the trail.  He never broke stride while clearing the obstacle.  Still, I felt a bone-jarring thud as I bounced in the saddle. 

My thoughts rambled as the horse strode at full speed down the trail.  I had become totally frustrated by the fierce tensions that divided our young country.  The South was emphatic that slavery must continue.  The North was just as determined that slavery should be abolished.  The election was only two months away, with "Honest Abe" Lincoln expected to crush the divided Democratic tickets.  Everyone talked of a possible civil war.  I could not take it any more.  Three months ago I left the family farm in Ohio and joined the Pony Express.

I was a Rider.  I was one of the seventy-five chosen Pony Express riders.  It was not an easy sell, getting hired to be one of the seventy-five chosen men.  At six feet tall, and weighing one hundred and eighty pounds, I was the largest Rider.  Most of the others were four to six inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter.  It took a very rugged, special man to ride sixty or seventy miles each day in only six hours.  The ride was not a pleasure trip.  The Riders rode hard for ten miles, changed horses on a running exchange, and rode ten miles more until their sixty miles was finished.  Our route followed the California and Oregon Trails.  The northern parts of the Nebraska and Utah territories were very harsh land.  It was incredible to think that our mail could reach San Francisco just ten days after it had left St. Joseph, Missouri.  We were a very proud, macho group.

Two days ago, I had enjoyed my weekly day of rest at Fort Laramie.  Like all of the forts in the frontier, Laramie was the social center of the area.  The fort had a lively saloon to keep the soldiers entertained.  Several dancing girls kept the saloon bustling until the wee hours of the morning.  But, I liked Fort Laramie because of Andrea.  The lovely daughter of the Army Quartermaster was a tall buxom redhead.  Her physical beauty was remarkable.  Her charm and warmth were her greatest assets.  We hoped to get married as soon as I could save enough money to buy a farm.  I was paid very well, one hundred and twenty-five dollars a month.  I saved most of it to some day buy our homestead.

Yesterday had been a relatively easy stint, as I rode from Fort Laramie through Star Ranch, Cottonwood, Horseshoe, Elkhorn, LaBonte, Bed Tick, LaPrele, Box Elder, and Deer Creek.  The terrain was relatively smooth and the horses ran well.  Today was a very difficult ride.  The trail was very rocky with several streams to ford.  The stations were far apart; North Platte, Red Butte, Willow Springs, Horse Creek, Sweet Water Station, Devil's Gate, Plant's Station, Split Rock, the dangerous Three Crossings, Ice Slough, Warm Springs and finally St. Mary's Station.  If all went well, tomorrow I would ride the equally treacherous route to Fort Bridger.  Then I would start back toward Fort Laramie.

I had been on the trail for nearly three hours this morning.  I had three more hours to go in the late morning sun.  The bright rays of the sun felt warm on my buckskin hat and clothes.  My long brown hair flapped behind me as the wind whistled across my face.  I could even feel the wind rustling through my long, droopy mustache.  Devil's Gate was only another mile up the trail.

Renegade was worn to a frazzle and needed the rest.  He was a beautiful black bronco.  The large black steed was breathing with some difficulty and his hide was soaked with sweat.  His hooves thundered on the dusty trail as he strode forward with incredible determination.  He only had one more mile to run, and his day would be over.  The Pony Express had invested huge sums of money in purchasing six hundred broncos.  They were valuable assets and were cared for as such.  These magnificent horses were taxed to their very limits by the ten to fifteen mile gallops they endured about every other day.  But, they were treated very well at the stations.  

I rounded the final bend and headed toward the station.  I pulled hard on the reigns and Renegade quickly stopped.  The ready flag was not flying.  I did not see the stationmaster standing ready with my next mount.  I glanced around.  There were no horses in the corral.  I saw no signs of movement.  Something seemed very wrong!

I pulled my Navy Colt pistol from my holster and slowly rode into the station.  I guided Renegade to the left and stayed near the woods for cover.  Slowly we approached the rear of the station house.  I saw no signs of life.  I dismounted and tied Renegade to a tree limb.  I cautiously maneuvered to the back door.  Glancing through the door's small window, I saw nothing.

I slowly worked my way to the barn.  The door was open, with a small crack between the door and the frame.  Gently I pushed the door open with my left hand.  My Colt was firmly grasped in my right hand.  The door swung open and daylight filled the center of the barn.

A sickening feeling swept through my gut.  In the stall directly opposite the door was a man's nude body, stretched tightly against the wall in a spread-eagle position.  His hands were tied to the rafters and his feet were tied to tether rings near the base of the wall.

I started to rush to his assistance, then quickly pulled back against the door.  His attackers might still be in the barn.  I carefully checked each stall, looking for anyone.  No one was in sight.  I holstered my Colt.

I slowly walked to Charlie's limp body.  I gasped as the light revealed the torment he had suffered.  The old prospector, turned stationmaster had suffered a painful death.  His torture appeared to be by Indians, but several signs were very puzzling.  Charlie had been tortured in many ways like any other Indian victim, but he had also been sexually tortured.  His tongue was pulled between his lips and lashed by twine between two sticks, keeping him from getting it back into his mouth.  The nipples on his tits had been stretched and pierced with long penny nails.  A broom handle had been shoved into his butt several inches.  His testicles were tightly bound in several wraps of course rope, stretching them three inches from the base.  The rope was bound so tightly that his balls were still swollen and purple.  His penis had a long, rusty nail shoved two inches into the slit.  He had bruises, scratches, and lash marks covering his chest, arms and legs.  He had perhaps had a small amount of "pleasure" in his torture, as dried cum clung to the nail that protruded from his shaft.  Judging from the large amount of blood, he had been scalped while still alive.  Then, after merciless torture, he had an arrow shot through his heart. 

Why did this happen?  All of the Indian nations were honoring their treaties with the government.  What tribe would attack the station?  And, who would sexually torture a man like this?  The markings painted on the arrow's shaft appeared to be Blackfeet.  But, why the sexual torture?  I had never heard of Indians torturing a man like this.

I was due at Plant's Station in 30 minutes.  I could alert the stationmaster of the trouble here.  The horses had all been stolen.  Renegade was exhausted and could not endure a "typical" leg of the run.  It would take at least an hour to get there at a pace he could survive.  The eastbound Rider would not be here for five or six hours. I decided to bury Charlie before I headed for the next station.  

I stood up.  I started to turn around when I was startled by something sharp pressing into my back.  A hateful voice was barking a command in some language I did not understand.  I slowly raised my hands above my head and turned to face the unknown assailant.

I guess assailants would have been more correct.  Four young Indian women stood between the barn door and me.  The nearest woman had a spear pressed against my ribs.  The other three stood several feet away, with bows and arrows aimed at my chest.  I guessed from their appearance that they were Blackfeet.  

Each woman had long, straight, coal-black hair hanging past her shoulder blades to the middle of her back.  They each wore a brightly colored headband tied around their heads.  Their dark, reddish-brown skin was very smooth.  Each wore a buckskin top that revealed ample cleavage, tight fitting buckskin pants that hugged their shapely legs, and over-the-calf moccasins.  Each wore a necklace made of braided or woven rawhide with animal teeth and bird talons dangling from them.  They were all wearing war paint on their faces, arms, and bellies.

The woman with the spear appeared to be in her late twenties. She was very tall, standing about six feet.  A dark red cloth bound her shiny black hair.  Her buckskin top crisscrossed her large breasts and tied behind her neck.  Her face was beautiful, with high cheekbones and full lips.  She was adorned with three stripes of blood red war paint on each cheek.  She had three blood red stripes around each bicep.  She had three more blood red stripes on her muscular abdomen, just above her navel.  Her dark, smooth skin was nearly perfect, except for a huge, wicked scar on the left side of her belly.  She nodded her head towards me.

The youngest of the three warriors set her bow on the ground.  I guessed she was eighteen to twenty years old.  She was the shortest of the group, probably five feet tall.  Her buckskin top wrapped behind her back, around her breasts, and laced in the front.  It had no straps.  It covered her large breasts in a very lovely way.  She had one bright red stripe and one bright yellow stripe on each cheek and around each arm.  Even through the war paint she was a very pretty young woman.

She cautiously approached me.  Her eyes were full of hatred and fear.  She removed my gun belt with my Colt in its holster.  She handed it to the leader, who lowered the spear from my ribs and pointed my revolver at me.  The leader tossed my gun belt near the barn door.  

The young warrior walked to me.  She removed my hat from my head and placed it over her shiny black hair.  The leader said something in Algonquian.  The young warrior smiled with her dark lips.  She placed her hands on the hat and strutted around me.  Then she adjusted the drawstring under her chin and struck a cavalier pose.  A huge grin spread across her face.

The young warrior once more returned to me.  She began to pull my shirt up and over my head.  She brought my arms down to free them of the shirt.  She then pulled my undershirt over my head and off of my arms.  The leader was shouting at me and waiving the gun upwards.  I raised my arms back into the air.  

The young warrior moved away to my left.  I could not see where she was.  Quickly, she returned to my side.  She now had a long coil of rope.  The leader motioned for me to lower my arms.  The younger warrior grabbed my wrists and put my palms together in front of me.  She then wrapped my wrists in several loops, pulling tightly.  After six loops, she tied the rope tightly.  Then, she took the long end of the rope and looped it between my arms three times, pulling the rope very tight.  The course hemp bit painfully into my wrists.  My hands turned a bright pink from the strange blood flow.  Despite the pain and discomfort, my hands did not seem numb.

The young warrior now threw the end of the rope over the rafter above my head.  She fetched the loose end and tied it to the stall boards.  My arms were now stretched above my head.  I was at their mercy.  Remembering Charlie's fate, I was not expecting a very merciful death.

Realizing that I was defenseless, the leader lowered the gun, slipping it in the waistband of her pants.  She raised the spear and gently probed my chest and abdomen with the razor-sharp point.  Each movement of the blade left a light scratch on my flesh.  Her masterful movements never once caused my skin to bleed.  A wicked smile slowly formed on her lips.  She chuckled scornfully as she moved the spear down and prodded the bulge straining against the crotch of my pants.  The other three laughed and mocked me in their strange language.

I was angry with myself.  I was probably going to die a painful, torturous death, and I had a raging hard-on.  God!  What a sick bastard I was.

The two warriors near the door placed their bows and quivers on the ground.  They strode over to me.  They began pulling my boots off of my feet.  Then, they began to pull my pants down; teasing my throbbing cock as they slowly inched the buckskin down my thighs.  One of them continued pulling the pants down my calves as the other deliberately pulled my under pants down one tantalizing inch at a time.  

By the time they had my pants over my feet, my erection was larger than I ever remember.  The warriors noticed my condition as well.  The leader playfully prodded my exposed genitals with the spear, scratching but never cutting.  All four of them laughed playfully as they teased me to further frustration.  They kept pointing at my cock and laughing.  I suspected they were mocking my size more than my excitement.

After a few minutes of prodding and poking, the youngest warrior brought a milking stool to me and placed it in front of my feet.  The leader prodded my feet.  I guessed they wanted me on it.  I did not like the prospects of being off of the ground, but I was in no position to debate with them.  I climbed awkwardly onto the stool.  I now stood with my crotch at the height of their shoulders.  One of the warriors untied the rope from the stall and pulled it tight before tying it off again.  The leader kicked the stool away from my feet.

I now hung by my wrists with my feet about two feet off of the ground.  I felt a rod against the back of my heels.  It must be a broomstick.  My legs were spread apart about four feet and my ankles were tied to the stick.  My thighs strained at being spread so far.  My balls and cock were completely exposed.  I was now completely at their mercy.  And as I have thought before, I would probably receive none.

One warrior, with two green stripes of war paint on each cheek and arm, brought another long piece of rope.  She began in the middle of rope and tied a very tight loop around the top of my scrotum.  She then wrapped both ends in another loop and tied them tightly again.  She continued to tie tightly-drawn loops of rope down my scrotum until my balls were stretched about two inches.  The rope was so tight, I thought my balls would explode with pain.  

There was still about ten feet of rope hanging from each end.  The other warrior, with blue stripes on her cheeks and arms, grabbed one end of the rope while the warrior with green stripes took the other.  They pulled the rope down to the bar that held my feet apart.  They looped the rope around my ankles and pulled.  My knees bent and they raised my feet behind me until my shins were parallel to the ground.  Then they tied the ropes to my ankles.  As long as I kept my knees bent, I felt mild pain.  As my legs tired and my feet dropped, I pulled my balls until I thought the pain would kill me.

Now that I was securely bound, they decided to have a little fun at my expense.  They began to swat my tender nuts with the feathered end of their arrows.  The hits would have been bad enough under any condition, but with my balls stretched and wrapped tightly, the pain was incredible.  They took turns swatting at me, waiting until the pain from the last swat had ebbed.  The "game" continued for some time.  I felt I was ready to pass out from the pain.  Unbelievably, I also was very aroused.

As I slowly regained my awareness, I noticed two things.  First, the youngest warrior was missing.  I had not noticed her leaving.  I wandered, somewhat skeptically, where she might be.

Secondly, about twenty feet directly in front of me, the leader was lying in a bed of straw.  She had removed her pants and was lying with her legs spread apart.  Her hand worked feverishly at the raven patch of hair that covered her womanhood.  She was coming down from an orgasm.  Based on her panting and moaning, it must have been a very intense one.  She was working her way toward another climax, grinning at me as I cringed in pain from the strain on my balls.  Her wicked smile turned into a desperate look as another orgasm crashed through her lean, smooth body.

My attention was suddenly drawn to the barn door.  The youngest warrior opened the door and entered the barn.  She was carrying a small pot and another broom.  As she approached me, I saw the pot was full of lard.  It seemed like a strange combination.  She grinned as she dipped a handful of lard from the pot.  She grinned wider as she smeared the lard on the end of the broomstick.  She began to rub the lard down the stick, almost as if she were jacking it off.

Then it hit me!  My God!  She was going to fuck my ass with that broomstick.  The warrior with the green war paint took a piece of rope and tied it snug, but not tight around my cock head.  She pulled the loose end around my neck.  My cock was now pointed at my chin.  If I shot a load, it would probably hit my chest or stomach.

I felt the stick at my ass.  She gently pushed against my tight opening.  She twisted the stick until it penetrated the opening.  She slowly worked the broomstick into my rectum until it felt like it was two feet inside of me.  She slowly, rhythmically began to pull it out six inches, then force it back in.  I squirmed at the friction, which only caused my legs to pull at my throbbing balls.  She slowly pulled the stick outward, then rammed it forcefully back inside of me.

The young Indian woman continued to brutally rape my ass with the broomstick.  The warrior with the green war paint started to tickle my throbbing balls with a large feather.  The warrior with the blue war paint tickled my cock head with another feather.  The sensations were overloading my senses.  They continued for almost half an hour, driving me to ecstasy.  Finally, I came with a thunderous moan.  My cum spurted onto my stomach in several globs.  My head sank against my chest in exhaustion.  I looked ahead to see the leader crash into one final orgasm.

I hung by my wrists from the rafter.  My tired, cramping legs pulled at my bound balls.  I gasped for air as the effects of the torment and the orgasm drained my body.  The warrior with the blue war paint wiped her finger through my cum.  She gathered a big glob on her finger and held it to my lips.  She shouted something threatening at me.  I closed my lips to avoid the disgrace of eating my own cum.

The young warrior rammed the broom deep into my rectum trying to cause my mouth to open.  I resisted and gasped between my clenched teeth.  The warrior with the green war paint squeezed my balls until I wanted to die.  Still, I would not open my mouth.  The warrior with the blue war paint used her other hand to pinch my nose closed.  She held the cum-laden finger by my mouth as the broom was rammed in and out and my balls were squeezed brutally.  Finally desperate for air, I opened my mouth to breathe.  The cum-coated finger entered my mouth.  I had no choice but to swallow.

The blue-painted warrior wiped two more times at my belly and forced both finger-loads of cum into my mouth.  They all stood around me and laughed.  I could tell by the tone of their voices that they were not being kind.  I could feel my face growing warm, partly from embarrassment and partly from anger.

"Crying Dove called you a cum-eating coward."  The voice spoke perfect English.  The leader stood in front of me.  She was still naked below the waist.  "She thinks we should cut your cock and balls off so you'd look like the pussy that you truly are."  

She brushed a finger across my cheek.  "Snow Wolf wants to know if you eat pussy.  Growling Bear told her that a coward like you would tongue our pussies and our asses if you thought you'd live."  Her other hand grasped my balls and squeezed.  She laughed at my anguished groan.

"I personally think you would suck that dead man's cock if it would keep you alive."  She smirked as she twisted my nuts.  "But we don't have time for that now.  The next Rider will be here in a few hours.  I've decided to take you with us for a while.  If you please me, you might live."

She turned away and reached for her pants.  She wiggled her ass at me as she pulled the tight buckskin pants over her thighs and covered herself.  She sat on the ground and laced her moccasins.  She stood and walked back to me.

"You remain silent?"  She looked somewhat surprised, almost admiring.  "I would expect you to beg for your release, maybe beg for your life."

"Would it make a difference?"  I asked in a raspy, exhausted tone.

"No."  She smiled a very wicked smile.

"May I at least know the name of the beautiful, graceful woman who holds my life in her hands?"

"My full name is Bloody Raven That Kills In The Night."  She chuckled.  "My friends call me Bloody Raven."

"Pleased to meet you, Bloody Raven."  I quipped with the little strength I had left.

She twirled around and jabbed the blunt end of her spear into my gut.  "I said my friends call me Bloody Raven!"  She emphasized each word to make her point.  "I am Princess of the Blackfeet!  I am a goddess to my people!  You will call me Your Highness!"

She spat in my face.  Her saliva slid down my nose.

"You'd better not let that hit the ground.  My spit is sacred.  You will eat it to keep it from falling."

I stretched out my tongue and caught her spittle as it dripped from my nose.  I swallowed it without protest.  My only thought was staying alive.

"Very good!"  She smiled.  It was an evil smile, but at least it was a smile.  "You will not speak unless given permission.  If you speak again, I will torture your tongue until you wish you were dead."

She turned to her charges.  She spoke in their dialect.  The three warriors began to untie the ropes that attached my balls to my ankles.  Leaving the long ropes hanging from the still tortured orbs, they lowered me to the ground.  My legs were still spread very far apart.  They released my ankles from the broomstick.  They removed the rope from my cock and neck.  They pulled my balls behind my legs and tied the ropes around my upper thighs.

I now stood before them.  My hands were still securely tied in front of me.  My balls were stretched and squeezed by the rope, and pulled back between my legs so that each step I would take would pull my nuts in agonizing pain.  The broomstick was still shoved two feet up my ass.  They had cut it off, so the about two feet stuck out.  I could not sit down without ramming the stick further inside of me.  It was inside of me far too deep to force it out.  It would be inside of me until they removed it.

The three warriors grabbed their bows and quivers, slinging them over their shoulders.  Bloody Raven fastened my gun belt around her waist and stuffed my Colt into the holster.  She gathered up my clothes and boots, stuffing them into a pouch.  She grabbed her spear and headed out the door.  Crying Dove, the youngest warrior, grabbed the rope that attached to my wrists.  With a yank of the rope, they led me staggering out of the barn.

The sun was high in the sky, indicating it was near noon.  Bloody Raven went around the station and returned leading Renegade by his reigns.  The rope from my hands was tied to his saddle horn.  Snow Wolf and Growling Bear went into the cabin and returned with four rifles, several pouches full of bullets, and a large pouch of food.

Bloody Raven, with Renegade in tow, took the lead.  I was struggling about twenty feet behind the horse.  My balls were being pulled, and the broomstick was rubbing inside of my ass.  The three warriors loaded their new rifles and followed about ten feet behind me.  Slowly, Bloody Raven guided the procession behind the station and into the woods.  Once we were off of the trail, the chances of seeing another white man was virtually non-existent.




Chapter 2 - Cum Eating Caveman


The small band had traveled about half a mile into the woods when we entered a small clearing. On one edge of the clearing were four ponies, tethered to trees.  The rest of the clearing was filled with six broncos, obviously from the Pony Express station.  They were tethered together with rope.  The first and last horses were tethered to trees.

Bloody Raven walked to a white pony.  I did not see one marking on the animal.  It was pure white.  As it turned, I noticed it had red eyes.  It was an albino pony, fit for a princess, or a goddess.  She attached the tether from Renegade to her pony's rope bridle.  She mounted the glorious white steed and led Renegade and me to the edge of the clearing.  

Crying Dove untied the line of horses from the trees.  She tethered the lead horse to her pony's rope bridle.  She mounted her pony and moved to the edge of the clearing, behind me.  Growling Bear grabbed two of the ponies and headed toward Snow Wolf.  They mounted their ponies and fell into the rear of the procession.  

We had gone northward about half a mile when Bloody Raven stopped the column.  She tied her pony to a tree and walked to me.

"We are going too slow.  You have to go faster."  She showed little emotion, perhaps a touch of frustration.

"I can't go faster with my balls tied up and this fucking stick up my ass!"  I answered in frustration without thinking.

Faster than lightning streaking through the sky, her right hand swung from her side.  She landed an open palm to my left cheek.  The loud crack of the slap echoed through the woods.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that again, you cum sucking white pig!"  Her eyes shone with rage.  "Did I warn you about speaking without permission?  Did I tell you to speak?"  She paused to regain her composure.  "I will forgive your outburst this one time."  The look on her face told me the next time would be very painful.

She knelt down and untied the ropes that pulled my balls behind me.  She pulled them through my legs and wrapped them around my waist.  She tied them together so they would not trip me.  My balls were still stretched by the tight loops of rope, but they were not pulled behind me anymore.

"You should be able to move faster now.  The broom stick stays in your ass."  She grinned in a small smirk.  She turned and walked to her pony.  She gracefully eased herself onto its back.  She gave a small grunt and the pony began moving forward.

The column moved at a faster pace, which caused me considerable fatigue.  It also caused me considerable discomfort with that cursed broom handle moving around in my ass.  

We had traveled for about two hours, maybe five miles, when Bloody Raven slowed the column to a stop.  The sun was in the high western sky, so I guessed it was about two o'clock.  I heard water running.  A creek must be near.  The tall Indian princess led the column over a small mound and into the clear, shallow creek. 

The four Indians dismounted their ponies.  Snow Wolf took the four ponies and Renegade and tied their reigns together.  Growling Bear took the six broncos and held their tethers.  The horses drank the cool water.  They almost acted as if the cool water soothed their aching hooves.

Crying Dove untied my rope from Renegade's saddle horn.  She led me into the water.  She yanked on the rope, intentionally tripping me.  I tumbled face first into two feet of water.  The cool liquid refreshed my dry, sun-baked skin.  My aching feet felt wonderful in the cool refreshment.  But the relief was short lived.

Snow Wolf and Growling Bear led the horses to the shore and secured them to stout tree limbs.  Crying Dove dragged me up onto the bank.  She threw the rope over a thick limb and tied it off around the trunk.  I was on my knees with my arms over my head.  Unlike before, I had slack in my arms.  I could have rested on my haunches if the broomstick was not in the way.

"Would you like the broom stick out of your ass?"  Bloody Raven asked with a devilish grin on her face.

I nodded.

"I give you three options."  She said with a chuckle.  "You can keep the stick in your ass."

"Or, you can suck your horse's cock until he cums in your mouth."  She guffawed as she repeated the choice to her friends.

"Or, you can squat and rock on the stick until you cum."  She chuckled as she let her warriors know the last choice. 

The first two choices were both out of the question.  I eased back on the stick and began to rock on it, hoping for an orgasm.  The lard had lost most of its lubricating power as it warmed inside my body.  The wooden handle was very abrasive to my tender anus.  Still, I had a chance to have it removed.  I rocked for all I was worth.

To my surprise, I became very aroused.  My cock throbbed as it grew.  I could not get the stick to move smoothly.  I positioned my feet around it to hold it in place.  I soon rocked in a lively rhythm with the stick moving in and out about six inches.  I humped the stick for about fifteen minutes before I felt my body tense.  Bloody Raven took my cock in her hand.  I made one more thrust against the wooden handle and shot a load of cum into her palm.

"Well, well.  My little Cum Eater gets the handle out of his ass."  She hissed as she rubbed my swollen balls with her leather-clad foot.  "But you made a mess in my hand.  Now you'll have to clean it up."

She held her palm to my mouth.  Resistance was pointless.  Pride could be deadly.  The only logical choice was to lick it from her hand.  I lapped it with my tongue and swallowed it reluctantly.

Bloody Raven grabbed my chin and raised me to my feet.  Crying Dove untied the rope and pulled my arms high above my head.  I was on my tiptoes.  Bloody Raven grabbed the handle and began to viciously fuck my ass with the stick.  She rammed it in and out for several minutes until her arms grew tired.  She yanked the handle quickly out of my ass.  I felt like she had ripped my bowels out through my rectum.

To my terror, the tall, dark princess walked in front of me and put the soiled end of the stick to my lips.  "Well, Cum Eater.  Are you also a shit licker?  Are you a cock sucker?  Do you want to suck your own shit off of this wooden cock?"

I kept my lips closed.  She had not told me to do it.  She had only asked if I wanted it.  I turned my face from the smelly shaft.

"Too bad!"  She chuckled.  "You might have enjoyed it."

Bloody Raven pulled the revolver from the holster and pointed it in my face.  "We are going to tie your hands behind you.  One move and your dead."

Crying Dove untied the rope from the tree trunk.  She began untying the ropes that encased my wrists.  As soon as my hands were free, she yanked them behind my back.  She placed them palm to palm, placing a slight strain on my shoulders.  She tied them with six loops and wrapped the end between my arms three times.  My hands were tightly, inescapably bound behind me.  There was still about ten feet of rope hanging loose.  She pulled the end up and began tying my elbows together tightly behind me.  I felt like my shoulders would pop out of place.  She gave one last tug for added discomfort and tied the ends of the rope together.  She then produced a long black cloth.  She used the cloth to blindfold me.

"You walk too slowly.  And you see too much of the trail."  Bloody Raven scolded me.  "We will tie you into your saddle.  We have to make better time."

They led me to Renegade and helped me into the saddle.  They tied each ankle to its stirrup.  My balls were still tightly wrapped and swollen.  I was certain they would be smashed bouncing around in the saddle.

Bloody Raven mounted her snow-white steed and the column moved quickly, splashing through the shallow stream.  Anyone trying to track us would never be able to follow our tracks now.  We traveled in the stream for about an hour.  Finally, Bloody Raven turned her pony onto the bank and we started along a steep, narrow trail.  Each step Renegade took caused my body to bounce, driving my swollen balls into the stiff leather of the saddle.  I had been afraid they would fall off from the tight bondage.  Now, they hurt so badly, I almost wished they would fall off.

Three more hours of riding the rough trail finally ended.  I could tell that we were high in the foothills.  We came to a stop.  I heard rustling noises as Bloody Raven dismounted her pony.  Bloody Raven untied my ankles and helped me out of my saddle.  As my feet hit the ground, I stumbled in my blindfolded darkness.  The Indian princess removed my blindfold.  The bright light hurt my eyes, and I squinted for several seconds to relieve the pain.  We had entered a large clearing.  The back of the clearing was a mountainside.  In the mountainside were several caves.  

Growling Bear and Snow Wolf were tending their ponies and the broncos on the edge of the camp.  Crying Dove took Renegade, the albino pony, and her own pony to graze with the others.  The warriors began tethering the ponies and broncos to some trees.
  
"Welcome to your new home Cum Eater!"  The Indian princess chuckled.  "If you perform well and don't try to escape you may live long enough to enjoy it."

The long ride had been very tiresome.  Compounded by the tight bondage and having to walk the first part of the journey, I was exhausted.  I was thirsty and hungry.  My arms were still tightly cinched at the elbows.   My shoulders and upper arms were cramping and very stiff.  My balls had been tightly bound and stretched for six or seven hours.  They were a deep purple and very swollen.  A dull, painful throb pulsed through my groin.

Bloody Raven was giving orders in Algonquian.  I knew a smattering of several Indian languages.  Unfortunately, Algonquian was not one of them.  Growling Bear and Snow Wolf were tending the horses.  Crying Dove, who was still wearing my hat on her head, was rummaging in one of the caves.  

Bloody Raven pulled a long knife from a sheath near her hip.  The blade was long, shiny, and very sharp.  A smirk crossed her lips as she saw the fear in my eyes.  Common sense had long sense left me.  My mind was dulled by fatigue.  Fear and survival instincts were managing my soul.

"It is good that you fear me."  The beautiful princess whispered.  "One wrong move could be your very last."  She raised the knife to my throat.  She chuckled as I gulped in fear.  "I did not bring you this far to kill you so soon.  I plan to use you for a long time before I slit your throat."

The tall, dark beauty walked behind me and quickly sliced through the rope that was binding my elbows.  A sigh of relief escaped my lips as my shoulders eased back into a less-strained position.  The Indian princess returned in front of me.

"Should I untie your balls?  Or, should I cut them off?"  

The wicked grin on her face left me to wonder if she really would.  My memories of Charlie hanging in the barn quickly erased any doubt from my mind.

Bloody Raven slid the knife back into its sheath.  She knelt in front of me and began untying the ropes that tortured my balls.  As the final loop was released, she pulled the rope sharply across my raw scrotum.  The course hemp burned my tender flesh.  I groaned in agony, but withheld any words.  

I now stood before my lovely captors.  I was completely naked, and my hands were tightly bound behind my back.  Slowly, the feeling was returning to my balls.  The pain gradually built to an unbearable level.  The skin of my scrotum burned from the ropes and the lack of blood.  My nuts throbbed with the rush of blood and the bruising from their various mistreatments.  My face was contorted as I battled the pain.

"You do well to hold your tongue.  Otherwise, I would be forced to cut it from your mouth."  Her hand moved past the handle of her knife to reinforce her words.

Crying Dove finally emerged from the cave.  She was carrying a tangled bundle of leather and steel.  Growling Bear and Snow Wolf were finished tending the horses, and both had wandered behind their leader.

Bloody Raven pulled my Colt from the holster and aimed it at my chest.  Crying Dove began untying my hands.  As my hands came free, I moved them in front of me and began rubbing my wrists.  Crying Dove panicked at my movement.  She dove at my legs and tackled me to the ground.  Bloody Raven realized the situation and guffawed loudly.  Crying Dove released her hug on my legs and climbed to her feet.  I was sprawled on the ground with dirt in my mouth.

"You would be wise to not move unless told to do so."  Bloody Raven was still chuckling.  "You may stand up, but very slowly."

I climbed to my feet.  Crying Dove fumbled with the bundle of leather and steel.  She stepped behind me and fastened a wide leather belt snuggly around my waist.  The belt had a large buckle that fastened behind my back.  Two short chains hung from the front of the belt.  The loose end of each chain had a leather cuff with a buckle attached.  Crying Dove moved in front of me.  She fastened a cuff around each wrist.  I could now raise my hands to my chest.  The short chains restricted my movement beyond that point.  She then clipped a one-foot length of chain to a ring on each cuff, further restricting my hand and arm movements.  The young warrior stepped behind me and attached leather cuffs around my ankles.  She then clipped a two-foot length of chain to each ankle cuff.  She then fastened a leather collar around my neck.  To the ring on the collar she clipped a three-foot chain.

Crying Dove handed her leader a large metal ring with about twenty small brass padlocks on it.  Bloody Raven removed a rawhide string from the ring.  It had a small brass key dangling from it.  She used the key to unlock five padlocks and handed them to Crying Dove.  The young warrior returned to me and locked a padlock through small holes in the strap of each leather cuff.  The strap could not be pulled back through the buckle until the padlock was removed.  She used the last padlock to secure my collar in a similar manner.

"You are surprised at our knowledge of leather and steel?  We are not the ignorant savages you wish us to be."  Her face did not show any expression.  "The padlocks are courtesy of some fancy lady from the East.  She was with her husband and two teenage daughters.  They were too proud to travel with a wagon train.  They were very easy targets.  We raided their wagon, stole several leather trunks, and this lovely set of padlocks."  She grinned as she waved the remaining locks in the air.  "We decided not to kill them.  We destroyed all of their fancy clothes.   We had them strip, tied them to the wagon wheels, and left them naked waiting for another wagon to find them.  It was quite humorous."

Bloody Raven scowled at me as she made a great show of placing the rawhide string with the key around her neck.  "Your movements will be restricted.  You cannot move enough to hurt us or to escape.  But, you can move enough to serve us.  As your people enslave the black man, so we have enslaved you."  She waited for a response.  I gave none.  "You will cook our meals.  You will clean our caves.  You will satisfy our needs.  You are our slave."

Crying Dove handed another leather object to her leader.  I could not determine what it was supposed to be.  Bloody Raven slipped my Colt into the holster and knelt in front of me.  She took the leather object and began to apply it to my body.  It had two sections.  The first section slid over my cock.  It was big enough for me when I was not erect.  She tied a leather drawstring around the base of my genitals, firmly holding the small sheath around my cock.  The second section wrapped around my scrotum for two inches.  She tightly laced the sheath down my scrotum with a leather drawstring.  She tied the string tightly.  Then she took the loose ends of the string and looped them between my balls, through a loop on the sheath, and pulled them tightly back to the front of the sheath.  My balls were stretched and separated.  My cock was in a tight, small sheath.

"You will not touch the sheath.  You will wear it as long as I wish. You might wear it forever.  If you untie it, you will be severely punished."  Her face was grave and threatening.  Then a smirk erupted on her lips.  "You will only piss when we remove it.  Of course, if you get excited the sheath will squeeze your pathetic little cock.  I'm sure it will cause considerable discomfort."

The three warriors stood behind their leader.  They were engaged in a heated debate.  I did not know what they were saying, but I was sure I did not like the possibilities.

"The ladies want to give you a name."  She chuckled at the thought.

"I have a name Your Highness.  It's Andrew Thomas."  My voice was weak and raspy.

"I don't remember telling you to talk."  Her look was full of disgust.  I prepared for some blow to come my way.  She didn't oblige me.  "We must teach you to be silent."

Crying Dove swiftly moved to the largest cave.  She returned shortly with something in her hand.  She handed them to the princess.

"Stick your tongue out."  Bloody Raven ordered.

I stuck my tongue out.  She placed two slats of wood around my tongue and squeezed them tightly.  Crying Dove took two rawhide strings and lashed the slats together on either side of my tongue.  I could not pull my tongue back inside my mouth.  Bloody Raven had pulled my tongue out far enough that it hurt inside my throat.

"You will wear this all night.  Maybe by morning you will have learned not to offend us with your noises."  Bloody Raven gazed deep into my eyes and seemed pleased with my look of utter despair.  "You would have had a decent meal and some water.  Now, you will go to bed hungry and thirsty."

Bloody Raven turned to the others.  She asked them some questions in Algonquian.  Growling Bear answered her as the others giggled.  She turned back to me.

"The ladies have suggested a name for you."  She grinned.  "They wish to call you Cum Eating Worm That Crawls In Caves To Lick Pussies."  Her hand moved downward and began fondling my encased manhood.  I moaned in agony.  "I like it!  But, to keep it simple, we'll call you Cum Eater."

I was forced to kneel at Bloody Raven's feet while the four warriors ate dinner.  I remained there while they sat around the fire and told stories.  The sun was long gone into the sunset when I was led into the main cave and put to "bed."




Chapter 3 - The Early Bird Gets The Cum Eating Worm


I awoke the next morning shivering on the floor of the main cave.  I glanced out the cave door.  The sun was rising, but was not over the tree line yet.  The cave door faced the South, so the sun would never shine directly into the opening.

I was still hobbled hand and foot by the cuffs and chains.  My cock and balls were still encased in the leather sheaths.  My tongue was still trapped in the wooden press.  A three-foot chain ran from my collar to a pole near the back of the cave.  I could crawl near the pole and stand up, but I could not go anywhere.  I curled up in a ball and waited.

Crying Dove was the first warrior to awaken.  She had been sleeping near the fire in the center of the cave.  She was wrapped in a decorative woolen blanket.  She climbed to her feet and stretched.  I stared in awe.  She was completely naked.  Her body was very shapely.  Her skin was smooth and reflected different hues of red and brown in the firelight.  She had removed all of her war paint before she went to bed.  The beauty of her face was no longer hidden behind the brightly colored stripes.  She grabbed her blanket and wrapped it over her shoulders.  Then, she reached for my rawhide hat and placed it on her head.

She glanced around the cave.  The others appeared to be soundly sleeping.  She looked in my direction.  She saw my eyes were open.  She grinned.  She slowly crept toward me, with the blanket covering her body.  Only the lower half of her shapely legs could be seen.  She unclipped the chain from the pole and pulled me to my feet.  She held a knife near my chin to threaten me should I have any ideas of escaping.

I stood before her, shivering from the cold morning air.  She noticed my shivering and sneered at me.  I reached my hands near my cock and acted like I was pissing.  She shook her head, denying me the basic necessity.  She tugged on the chain and led me out into the bright sunlight.  The light was short-lived.  

She led me into a smaller cave some distance from the main cave's opening.  She went twenty feet into the cave and turned around.  She gently pushed on my shoulder, guiding me to kneel.  She put her finger to her mouth in the universal signal to be quiet.  She carefully untied the rawhide strings that cruelly imprisoned my tongue between the wooden slats.  She removed the slats and wrapped them in the rawhide strings.  She tossed the bundle onto a stack of crates.

I was very relieved to have my tongue freed from the press.  I wallowed it around in my mouth trying desperately to relieve the cramps and the tingling sensations.  She giggled as she watched my struggles.  She watched in amusement for several minutes until my mouth finally felt somewhat normal.

She turned around and removed her blanket.  I gazed in awe of her beautifully smooth butt and shapely legs.  She spread the blanket on a pile of straw.  She turned back to me.  Her perky breasts bounced slightly above my head.  My face was directly in front of her firm, smooth belly.  Just below my chin her raven colored pubic patch glistened with moisture.  

She grabbed the chain and pulled me to the blanket.  She eased herself onto the woolen fabric.  She laid back and spread her legs.  She pointed at my mouth and moved her tongue around her lips.  She then pointed to her dark patch of hair.  She could only mean one thing.  She wanted me to eat her pussy.

I leaned forward and rested my weight on my shackled hands.  I crawled forward and lay on my stomach.  I positioned my nose inside her glistening slit.  She was already wet.  I began to lick and slowly explore her purplish-brown membrane.  She squirmed under the ministrations of my tongue.  I deliberately teased her until her lust for relief became overbearing.  She grabbed my head and forced me to bury my tongue deep within her.  

Perhaps it was pent up desire from yesterday.  Maybe it was months or years of longing for a man.  Maybe it was the thrill of having a captive white man pleasuring her.  Whatever the reason or reasons, she came very quickly.  The thunderous orgasm racked her body with paralyzing tremors of delight.  She moaned and screamed in pleasure.  

Her trembling began to subside and her heavy breathing became less labored.  I raised my head to gasp for air.  Our eyes met for a long moment.  Her face was relaxed and she looked dazed.  She briefly smiled her approval.  Her hands clutched at my head.  My face was once more driven into the musky depths of her erotic pleasure.

I worked feverishly with my tongue.  I plunged deeply into her womanhood.  The wonderful feeling of giving her pleasure made me feel very good.  I worked still harder.  Soon her body was trembling.  She began to thrust her hips into my face.  She was fucking my tongue.  Her powerful thighs squeezed my head, forcing my tongue deeper into her.  Her breathing became frantic.  She arched her back and her entire body tensed.  She groaned as the waves of each shudder sent her into ecstasy.  It seemed like minutes passed as her body continuously heaved in orgasmic convulsions.  Finally, she collapsed.

I raised my head.  She was smiling at me.  I had pleased one my new mistresses.

She looked at the cave door and giggled.  I turned my head.  The other three Indians stood at the door.  They had heard Crying Dove scream during her first orgasm.  They saw I was missing and assumed the worst.  Each of them held a weapon.  They were completely naked and smiling at the absurdity of the moment.  They all started teasing Crying Dove in Algonquian.  I did not know what they were saying, but it seemed to be good-natured fun.  Finally, having exhausted all amusement from the situation, they turned and left the cave.

Crying Dove gently pushed me back.  I climbed to my feet.  I held out my shackled hands to offer her assistance in climbing to her feet.  She smiled appreciatively as I pulled her up.  She bent down, gathering her knife and her blanket.  She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.  It gaped open in the front exposing her breasts and pubic hair.  

She moved the knife near my groin and playfully poked at my throbbing cock.  I had not noticed my excitement while I was serving her.  My cock was desperately trying to stretch the leather sheath.  My balls were throbbing, partially from the continued bondage and partially from arousal.  I whimpered in frustration.  She laughed and shook her head no.

I was resigned to my captivity.  I saw no way to escape the leather and chain contraptions that prevented my escape.  As long as I avoided punishment, this life might not be too bad.  Granted, it was sexually frustrating to have my genitals bound all of the time.  The women were all beautiful.  Of course, that was a mixed blessing.  They were delightful to watch.  But, the frustration of watching their supple bodies without sexual relief was mind numbing.

Crying Dove had led me to a small stream near the camp.  The other three warriors were bathing and frolicking in the cool water.  Growling Bear said something to Crying Dove.  Bloody Raven and Snow Wolf joined in the heckling.  Of course, I could not understand a word.  Crying Dove appeared agitated by the remarks.  She unwrapped the blanket from her shoulders and tossed it near a tree.  Once again, she was completely naked, except for my rawhide hat that she wore nearly all of the time.  

She gently pushed me down to my knees.  She coaxed me to lie down, which took some time for me to figure out.  I was lying on my back on the dew-soaked ground.  I once again had the terrible urge to piss.  Crying Dove seemed oblivious to my needs.  She stepped over my face.  I looked up directly into her pussy.  She squatted over my face.  I saw a dribble of piss coming from her.  I gasped in terror.  I tightly closed my eyes and lips.  I felt the warm, foul-smelling liquid splattering over my face and hair.  She continued to spray me for two or three minutes.  Finally the spray stopped.  The piss was all over my face.  I was afraid to open my eyes or my mouth.

I felt her foot placed lightly on my throat.  She did not put her weight on it, or I would have been strangled.  She let out a loud, shrill war cry.  The others screamed back in shrill, blood-curdling replies.  

I felt her tugging on my chain.  I was forced to stand or be choked.  Crying Dove began giving me stern instructions, which I could not understand.  She took her finger and pressed upward on my eyelid.  She wanted me to open my eyes.  I resisted.  She grabbed my leather-clad nuts and squeezed very hard.  I screamed in pain and opened my eyes wide.  She stood before me smiling triumphantly.

My need to piss was causing me to cramp.  I motioned to my cock and acted like I was peeing.  She nodded her head yes.  She pushed my shoulder and guided me to lie on my back.  She untied the end of the leather cock sheath.  The end of my cock was now uncovered.  She grabbed my cock and pointed it at my chin.  

"Pees!"  She snarled and put her bare foot underneath my balls.  She pressed her foot into the flesh between my balls and my ass. 

A hot stream of piss gushed from my cock, splashing all over my face.  I had not pissed since early yesterday.  My stream continued dowsing my face for several minutes.  The stream finally stopped.  I opened my eyes.

She rose to her feet and placed her foot on my nuts.  She pressed her toes into my leather-sheathed sac.  She let out another war cry.  Once more her compatriots answered with whoops of approval.  Crying Dove's face beamed with dominant pride.  She had humiliated the cum-eating white worm in front of her peers.  She had also had sexual satisfaction from something other than her own hand for the first time in her life.  She was the proudest Indian in the world.

The young warrior removed my hat from her head and tossed it onto her blanket.  She knelt down.  She untied the rawhide strings that held the leather sheaths around my cock and balls.  She removed the leather pouches and tossed them onto her blanket.  She grabbed the chain that dangled from my collar.  With a less than gentle tug, she led me to the water.  

Just as we had reached midstream, she reached out her leg and tripped me.  I tumbled face first into the three feet of water.  I had not expected to go under water and did not get a deep breath.  She pounced on top of me and held my head under the water for almost a minute.  It seemed like hours as I envisioned being drowned.  She grabbed my long brown hair and yanked my head from the stream.  She yelled something as I sputtered for air.  Quickly, she dunked me again.  After she dunked me five more times, she released my hair and pulled me to my feet.

I sputtered for air, spitting and coughing for several minutes.  When I finally caught my breath, I looked at her with anger in my eyes.  She spit in my face and laughed hysterically.  As the spit rolled down my nose, she stuck out her tongue and pointed at it.  Remembering yesterday's lesson, I reached out with my tongue and caught her saliva as it dripped from my nose.  Reluctantly, I swallowed her spit.  All four of the ladies laughed at my humiliation.

As I calmed down, I realized that all of the piss had been washed from my face and hair.  I was humiliated by being pissed on.  I was humiliated by pissing on my own face.  I was humiliated by swallowing her spit.  I had almost been drowned.  But, at least I had been cleaned in refreshing water.

Crying Dove released her grip from my chain.  I splashed water under my arms and rubbed the dirt and grime from my body.  She allowed me to move freely except for the cuffs and belt restraint.  After a thorough cleaning, I eased myself down onto my butt.  I sat in the chest-high water watching the four lovely warriors clean and play in the water.

Finally, Bloody Raven shouted an order in Algonquian.  Crying Dove grabbed my chain and led me onto the shore where the others had gathered.  They shook the water from their sleek dark bodies.  They squeezed their hair in their hands to remove the excess water.  I stood shivering in the sunlight while my hair dripped mercilessly down my back.  I enjoyed watching the four beautiful bodies twisting in the rays of light.

Crying Dove noticed my shivering.  She draped the blanket over my shoulders.  Bloody Raven started up the path to the camp.  The others followed, with Crying Dove and I in the rear of the procession.  I realized very quickly that I had a delightful view, as I watched the slim, muscular nude bodies climb the trail.




Chapter 4 - Shave and a Haircut


Once in camp, I was led into the main cave with the women.  Crying Dove pulled down on my chain, and I instinctively dropped into a kneeling position.  She smiled her approval and headed toward the spot where her blanket had been earlier this morning.

The women began to dress without seeming the least bit phased by my presence.  Each of them pulled their figure-hugging rawhide pants over their bare legs and tied them around their waists.  It seemed strange that they did not wear undergarments like white women.  They then put on their rawhide tops.  Bloody Raven wore a top that came from behind her back, encased her breasts, crossed her upper chest, and tied behind her neck.  The other three wore tops that wrapped around their breasts and laced in the front.  They each sat down and pulled their rawhide moccasins onto their feet and over their calves.  Each of them stood, pulled their hair behind their ears, and tied their headbands into place.

Bloody Raven walked to me with a leather object in her hand.  She motioned for me to lie on my back.  I struggled to swing my legs out without falling.  I was not successful in being agile, and fell hard onto my back.  It was not the way I wanted to get there, but I was where she wanted me.  She pulled my balls upward and wrapped the leather sheath around my scrotum.  She began tightening the rawhide laces on the underside of my scrotum and tightly pulled my balls about two inches downward.  She pulled a leather strap from the front of my balls to the rear and threaded the laces through the strap.  My balls were now stretched and separated.  The tightness and width of the straps was terribly painful.  She swatted my balls with her bare hand.  I screamed in agony and tried to double up.  She had straddled me in a manner that prevented me from raising my legs.  I writhed in incredible pain.

After allowing me a few moments to whimper, the Indian princess grabbed my chain and pulled me to my feet.  She led me out of the cave and near the fire pit.  She tugged my leash downward, and I fell into a kneeling position.  She stuck her left foot out to me.  I leaned forward and quickly kissed her moccasin.  She growled in anger and kicked the side of my face.  I rolled backward from the force of the vicious kick.   She grabbed my chain and pulled me back into a kneeling position.  She offered me her foot.  I kissed it passionately, licking the rawhide as if my life depended on it.  It probably did.

"If you obey our commands and satisfy our needs and desires with great effort, this will be your clothing."  She raised her foot and touched my cuffs, collar, and ball strap.  "If you fail to serve us, we will add less comfortable attire.  Assuming we don't tire of you and torture you to death."

I leaned forward and passionately kissed her moccasin to show my agreement.

"Do you understand my terms?"  She inquired in a regal tone.  "You may answer."  

"Yes, Your Highness, I understand.  Your every wish is my command."

"Very good."  She smiled as her foot rubbed my swollen balls.  "Now you will remain silent unless asked to speak."

She handed my chain to Crying Dove.  "Crying Dove will teach you to cook and clean.  Listen well and learn quickly."  She spoke to Crying Dove who sheepishly smiled as if she was embarrassed.  "I told her not to be late with breakfast because she loves your tongue in her pussy."

Crying Dove tugged on my chain.  I clumsily climbed to my feet and followed her to the main cave.  She showed me a box of flint rocks.  She held up two fingers.  I opened the box and removed two pieces of flint.  She led me out to the fire pit.  She touched my hand and pointed to the ground.  I set the flint rocks on the ground.   She led me to a woodpile.  She held up four fingers.  I couldn't manage four pieces with my wrists chained.  She held up two fingers on one hand, then deliberately brought up two fingers on the other.  I grabbed two pieces and placed them in the fire pit.  We returned for the other two pieces of wood and took them to the pit as well.  She had brought some kindling to speed up the process.  I arranged the wood and started a fire.

The morning continued with Crying Dove leading me around.  She pointed and grunted and spoke Algonquian.  I usually understood her gestures and followed her lead.  I managed an edible breakfast of rabbit and grits.  I had brewed some kind of herb tea.  Crying Dove had me serve each warrior, starting with the princess.  I was not allowed to eat until they were finished.  I then had to clean their mess and eat their scraps.  Crying Dove said something and barked like a dog.  I guessed she was calling me a dog to emphasize I only got to eat their scraps.

I was cleaning up the mess from breakfast with Crying Dove barking instructions in Algonquian.  Growling Bear and Snow Wolf left camp with their bows and quivers.  Bloody Raven was examining the rifles they had stolen from the station.  She was counting the boxes of bullets.  She walked over to my saddle and rummaged through the side bags.  She pulled out my Bowie knife and a leather pouch full of bullets.  She reached forward and grabbed my holster.  She checked the bullet slots and seemed pleased they were full.  She fastened the holster around her slender waist.  She stood and struck a cavalier pose.  She smiled as Crying Dove laughed at her antics.

A few hours had passed.  Growling Bear and Snow Wolf returned from their hunting trip with several dead pheasants and two dead rabbits.  They made a grand production of presenting them to me.  Crying Dove grunted and prodded me to carry the kill to the side of the camp.  She handed me a knife.  I skinned the rabbits and hung them from a tree to drain.  Crying Dove then showed me the Algonquian method to prepare birds for cooking.  It was too early to prepare dinner.  I wondered what I was to do next.

My question was answered when Bloody Raven appeared in front of me.  She was no longer wearing my holster.  Her only weapon was her knife, sheathed on her left hip.  She grabbed my chain and led me to the small cave where Crying Dove had used me this morning.  She led me to the pile of straw and tapped my shoulder.  I fell into a kneeling position.  She smiled her approval and dropped my chain.

The tall, dark princess walked over to a stack of crates.  She began a slow, provocative removal of her buckskin top.  After a few minutes of teasing, her large breasts were totally free of their restraint.  She tossed the top on the crates.  She then sat on a crate and slowly removed her thigh-high moccasins.  She was so graceful and deliberate, that even this act was erotic.  Finally free of her moccasins, she stood and began peeling her skin-tight buckskin pants from her beautiful ass.  She turned so that her left side faced me as she revealed her butt, then her thighs, and finally her calves.  She turned toward me and smiled.  It was a delicious, provocative, but wicked smile.  My cock throbbed as it pointed to the sky.

She walked to me and knelt.  Her hand began to tease my engorged manhood.  She cooed in my ear as she rubbed her cheek against my stubble-covered face.  She gently kissed my lips.  Without warning, she bit my lower lip and drew a small drop of blood.  Instinctively, I jerked my face away from hers.  She chuckled.

"You will not use that pathetic thing in me."  She squeezed my cock.  "You will not cum unless it pleases me.  I may never let you cum again."  She twisted my member, then released it from her grip.  "I want to test your delightful tongue.  If I'm not pleased you will suffer."

She gracefully eased herself onto the straw.  Her legs were spread wide.  She pointed to her pussy, which had already become wet from her arousal.  I fell to a prone position and crawled until my face was buried into her black patch of hair.  Her smell was sweet.  She was highly aroused.  It only took a short time to tongue her to her first orgasm.  It was a strong orgasm, but I felt she had many more, much stronger ones pent up inside her powerful loins.

She grabbed my head in her hands and forced my head deep into her bush.  Her powerful thighs squeezed my head.  I was gasping for air.  I tried with all of my concentration to lick and suck her wonderful womanhood.  The more desperate my struggle for breath became, the hotter she became.  I labored with my tongue for several minutes, maybe fifteen.  Finally, she began to shudder.  Her thighs constricted around my head.  Her pelvis thrust into my face.  A huge moan of pleasure escaped her mouth as her thighs opened.  She was trembling violently with her awesome orgasm. 

I took several breaths.  I had not been told to stop.  I quickly plunged my tongue back inside her swollen lips.  She pushed me away.  She continued to quake as the orgasm finally began to subside.  Exhausted, she collapsed in the straw.  Fatigued, I collapsed with my head between her legs.  

We contentedly lay there for minutes.  I felt good.  I had pleased my new mistress.  She said nothing, but I knew she was truly satisfied.  A warm feeling flushed through my body.  I truly enjoyed being a sex slave to these lovely women.  I wished I could pleasure them all of the time.

My thoughts were interrupted as Bloody Raven began to rise to her elbows.  She motioned upward with her hand.  I struggled to a kneeling position.  She smiled her approval.  She slowly, reluctantly climbed to her feet.

"You have pleased me well Cum Eater.  But, we need to keep your face smoother.  Your whiskers and mustache are not pleasant to my skin."

I showed no emotion.  I had grown my mustache five years ago, and had never shaved it.  If it pleased her, I would shave it.  It was no problem.

"You have nothing to say?"  She looked at me in a bewildered expression.

"May I answer?"  I asked, fearing punishment for asking.

"You may."

"If Your Highness wishes her slave to be clean shaven, he will be honored to abide by her wishes."  I tried to sound as respectful to her royal position as I could.

"While I am letting you speak, do you have any thing else to say?"

"Your cum eating worm has wondered how his beautiful mistress received that nasty scar."  I said.

"I was sixteen.  I was swimming by myself near our village.  Two long knives ambushed me."  Her voice was filled with anger.  Her eyes burned with rage.  "They pinned me to the ground and shoved a rag in my mouth so I could not scream.  They raped me.  As they turned to leave, I jumped on the back of one of them.  I scratched his face and drew blood.  He turned with a knife and sliced my side.  Then he kicked me very hard, right in the bleeding wound.  While I was squirming in pain, they disappeared.  I vowed no man would ever fuck me again.  Never."

A tear formed in my eye as she told the story.  A sickening feeling surged through my gut.  I loved sex, but I despised rape.  I wanted to hug her, but her look was one of hatred.

"If I were a man, I would be chief."  She was angry.  Her voice was strong.  "I decided to become chief of women warriors.  We will get revenge on the long knives.  My tribe will grow large and be feared by the white bastards."

"Your Highness, all white men are not bad."  I offered meekly.

"No, but long knives kill for no reason.  They rape us any chance they get.  In our land most white men are evil."  Her hatred was intense and understandable.

Several seconds passed as the rage slowly ebbed from her soul.  I knelt silently.  I thought I might have overstepped the permission I had been granted.

"Anything else?"  She asked calmly.  

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Maybe."

"Will I ever be released?"

"Maybe."

"How long are you going to keep me?" 

"As long as you serve us well and don't cause problems.  We will keep you for many seasons ... maybe forever.  We will eventually become tired of you.  If you do not serve us well, you will be tortured to death."

"Are you pleased with me so far?"  I decided to stretch my luck.

"Yes Cum Eater, we are pleased with you."  Her smile turned stern.  "But, don't you push your luck."

I knelt forward and passionately kissed her bare foot.  She patted my head and smiled.

Bloody Raven led me by my chain to a tree at the side of the camp.  She unfastened the buckle behind my back and removed the strap from my waist.  She took the belt and fastened it around a tree limb.  My arms were now stretched above my head.  She barked an order at Crying Dove.   She turned and walked to my saddlebags.  Crying Dove ran to the cooking area and returned with a bowl of water.  Bloody Raven returned with my razor and shaving soap.

"They have never seen a man shave."  The princess smiled at me.  "They will be very amused by this."

Bloody Raven exaggerated each motion as she performed for her band of warriors.  She dipped the soap in the water and lathered my face.  She applied extra lather to my mustache.  She then put an extra dot of lather on the tip off my nose.  She chuckled at me.  She turned to her audience and made a grand gesture toward my face.  The three warriors whooped in approval and enjoyment.

For her next act, the princess brought the blade very close to my nose.  I shuddered in fear as I prepared for a nasty slice to be removed from my face.  She laughed.  She made another threatening gesture to my throat.  I winced as I tried to recoil out of harm's way.  She laughed again and turned to receive the approval of her fans.  

She finally had scared me enough and expertly shaved my face without a nick.  She swiftly whisked the razor upward on my neck and shaved my throat without a drop of blood.  She was more careful as she removed my mustache.  She performed the entire affair without cutting me one time.  She finished the shave by rinsing my face of the excess lather.  She even had a cloth to dry my skin.  The entire effort took about five minutes.  It almost seemed like a waste of time to fasten me to the tree. 

To my surprise, she did not put the razor back in its case or dump the water.  She laid the razor in the bowl of water.  She knelt in front of me and began to unlace the leather ball sheath that had tormented me most of the day.  I was so relieved to have the sheath removed that I did not realize what she was doing.  She laid the sheath aside on the ground.  She reached into the bowl and retrieved the soap.  As she began lathering my genitals, I suddenly realized her plan.

"Please no!"  I begged in a half whisper.  "My God!  You'll cut my dick off!"  I was trembling in fear.

"Did I tell you to talk?"  She snarled softly.  "Do you need to be punished?"  She asked in a calm, quiet manner.

I shook my head.  My body was quivering.  Fear was not a good description.  Absolute terror was overwhelming me.

"Did I cut your face?"  She asked.  "Did I cut your throat?"  She queried as I shook my head.

"Why?"  I whispered.  She placed her finger on my lips.

"Because I want your pathetic little cock to be smooth.  I want your balls to feel every breeze and every feather-like touch."  She rubbed her finger around my balls to emphasize her point.  "If you hold still you won't get hurt.  I'll even promise not to make you wear the ball sheath again."

I tried my best to stop my body from quaking.  She took the razor in her right hand and lifted my cock with her left.  She made each stroke of the razor a deliberate show for her warriors.  Each stroke resulted in a chorus of shrieks and whoops.  She made about ten strokes from the tip of cock to the base.  She smiled at me in reassurance as she grabbed my sac and pulled down.  Ten more deliberate strokes carefully removed the course, kinky hair from my balls.  Each stroke brought more cheering from the women.  Without a scratch, she had removed the hair.  She rinsed the excess lather from my smooth skin.  She dried me with the cloth.

I could feel the breeze on my balls.  Shivers coursed through me as the wind tickled my virgin skin.  Each of the warriors approached me and rubbed their fingers around my cock and over my balls.  They giggled and said things to me in insulting tones.  I was embarrassed.  They all recognized my blush.  The jeering became more animated.

"I hope you enjoyed this one."  Bloody Raven whispered in my ear.  "Starting tomorrow it will be Crying Dove who shaves you each day."

The rest of the afternoon was spent pleasuring Snow Wolf and Growling Bear.  My tongue was very tired, but since my life was in jeopardy, I pleased them well and often.

The evening passed with me fixing dinner, serving the warriors, and cleaning up the dinner dishes.  They sat around the fire telling stories while I knelt beside the princess.  We went to bed in much the same manner as the previous night.  The only difference was my freshly shaved genitals were not bound in any way.

The next morning I awoke on the cave floor.  I was not allowed a blanket.  I was shivering in the cold morning air.  I curled into a ball and waited for the others to awaken.

The first warrior to arise was Crying Dove.  She unfastened my chain from the pole.  She led me to the cooking area.  She fetched a bowl of water.  She had brought the razor and soap.  She quietly began lathering my face.  She noticed my fear.  She kissed her finger and placed it on my lips to reassure me.  I was still scared.

She was very careful and moved very slowly.  She started on my cheeks and managed to get all of my stubble without cutting my flesh.  She then shaved above my lips without drawing blood.  She looked puzzled as she started to do my throat.  She asked something.  I gestured in an upward motion.  She started at the neck and worked up.  She nicked me a few times and winced as the blood spurted from the wounds.  She finished my face and rinsed it with water.  The sudsy water trickled down my chest.  She wiped me dry and held the towel to my neck to stop the bleeding.  The cuts were all superficial.  All in all, she had done very well for the first time.

Small teardrops formed in her eyes as she looked at my groin.  She had been very unsteady while shaving my face.  The thought of shaving my groin terrified her almost as much as it did me.  She held the razor in her hand.  She pointed it at me and said something.  She placed the razor in the bowl and held it out to me.  I grabbed the soap and lathered myself.  I replaced the soap and took the razor.  I carefully shave my cock from the base outward.  I then shaved my balls in several careful downward strokes.  I replaced the razor and rinsed myself.  She refused to let me have the towel.  She set the bowl down.  She toweled me dry with the cloth.  

She spent several minutes drying me.  It was really a teasing hand job.  Once I was very hard and highly aroused, she stopped.  I whimpered.  We both knew a few more strokes would bring me relief.  She shook her head.  I am almost sure she wanted my cock inside of her as badly as I wanted to put it there.  She said something while pantomiming for my benefit.  She pointed to the cave where the others slept.  She raised her hand above her head.  Then she slashed at her throat.  Then she acted like she was a man spurting cum.  I assumed she meant Bloody Raven would slit her throat if she made me cum.

She sighed in frustration.  She put the razor in its case.  She grabbed my chain.  She led me to the kettles.  I began preparing breakfast under her constant supervision.

After breakfast we went to the stream for the morning swim.  Bloody Raven had me lie on my back in the dirt near the stream.  One at a time, the warriors squatted over my face and pissed all over me.  All four warriors had drenched my face and hair.  Crying Dove knelt beside me, grabbed my dick, and pointed it at my chin.  She pressed her foot into my balls and gave me an order.  I immediately started pissing in my own face.  I guessed this was going to be a daily ritual.

To my dismay, Bloody Raven rubbed her foot in the piss until the bottom of her foot was very wet.  She placed her foot on my lips.  Without her saying a word I began to lick the piss from her foot.  When she was satisfied with my humiliation, she motioned for me to stand.

"Tomorrow I expect you to swallow all of the piss.  If you refuse, you die."

With those words, she handed my chain to Crying Dove.  I was led to the stream and allowed to bathe myself.  When the baths were finished the group proceeded back to camp.  Once again, I enjoyed the view from the rear.

Four more days passed.  The daily ritual was fairly constant.  Wake up and be shaved by Crying Dove.  She was much better with the razor.  She had shaved my genitals the last two days.  Once I was shaved, I fixed breakfast with Crying Dove casually watching as she fingered herself.  After breakfast, we went to the stream.  Each warrior pissed in my mouth, and I swallowed their piss.  Then we bathed.  The days were spent with Growling Bear and Snow Wolf trading watch duty.  Bloody Raven feared the long knives were still looking for me.  Throughout the day my cleaning chores were interrupted so that I could please one or more of the warriors.  Dinner would be served and they would sit around the fire and tell stories.  Usually before bed, I had to please all of the women.  Needless to say, I spent a lot of time in the small cave.




Chapter 5 - The Maiden With The Golden Hair


The fifth morning, after we had returned from the stream, Bloody Raven spoke to me.

"For several days the long knives were everywhere looking for you."  Bloody Raven said matter-of-factly.  "Today they will be gone.  We will take the horses to trade with the Utes.  Crying Dove will guard you here at camp.  If you do not obey her, you will be punished accordingly."

Bloody Raven, Growling Bear, and Snow Wolf mounted their ponies.  Snow Wolf tied the tether rope from the broncos to her pony's reigns.  My spirits rose as I noticed Renegade was left behind with Crying Dove's pony.  If I had to travel, I would have a horse.  I also saw Renegade as a sign my freedom might still be a possibility.

My day was spent cleaning the cooking utensils and preparing a dinner for the warriors.  They would be tired and hungry when they returned this evening.  It was my duty to make their return a very pleasant event.

Twice during the day, Crying Dove decided I needed a break from the cleaning.  Both times she led me into the smaller cave.  Both times she had me pleasure her to three orgasms.  Both times she looked longingly at my throbbing cock and shook her head.  I had already developed a terrible case of the blue balls.

The sun was far into the western sky, maybe six o'clock, when we heard the clatter of horse hooves approaching in the distance.  Crying Dove headed for the horses with me in tow.  She was nervous.  I suppose she thought it could be a search party looking for me.  Based on my knowledge of the area, we had five minutes to hide or flee.

The air was pierced by a shrill bird-like noise.  Crying Dove sighed with relief.  She returned the call with an equally shrill scream.  She led me to the center of the clearing and made a stirring motion at the pot.  I grabbed a spoon and stirred the rabbit stew.  I looked up as four ponies and a packhorse entered camp.

Growling Bear was in the lead, pulling the packhorse behind her on a tether.  Snow Wolf was next with her rifle pointing upward from her knee.  Oddly, Bloody Raven was in the rear, mounted on her albino pony, with her spear pointing into the air from her right hand.  She was leading another pony by a ten-foot tether.  

The last pony was unfamiliar to me.  I studdied the new pony carefully.  My mouth gaped in shock.  Perhaps dismay would be a better description.  Draped over the bare pony's back was a young, blonde-haired woman in a long, checkered dress.  Her hands and feet were bound together and tied under the pony to hold her in place.  Her mouth was gagged with a brightly colored cotton scarf.  Her eyes were covered with a black cloth.  Each step the pony took bounced her a few inches in the air.  As her chest and belly bounced on the horses back, she grunted in pain.  In between the grunts she was swearing through the gag in muffled sounds that no one could understand.

I almost thought she was saying, "You can't do this to me.  Let me go."  But then again, it was really "Mmmppphhh, mmmpppphhhh."  And so on.

Bloody Raven dismounted her pony and untied the lead to the other pony.  Snow Wolf and Growling Bear took the other ponies and the packhorse and tied them at the edge of the clearing.  They cared for the ponies, then unloaded the packhorse and cared for it.  As quickly as they could, they hurried to the center of the camp.  Their leader was parading the new pony, and more proudly, its passenger around the grounds.  She did this partly to show off her prize, and partially to let her compatriots join in the fun.  Finally, she stopped the horse in front of me.

She untied the rope that held the young woman's hands and feet together under the horse.  She was now draped over the horse.  Her hands were tightly bound in front of her, and her feet were tightly bound together.  The princess did not dare release her feet.  She was struggling with all of her might to kick.  Of course the ropes held her feet firmly in place.  The princess removed her shoes and stockings and mercilessly tickled her feet, causing the prisoner to flop wildly on the pony's back.  Snow Wolf and Growling Bear pulled the writhing captive from the pony's back.  They stood her a few feet in front of me, holding her arms to keep her from falling.  Snow Wolf removed the blindfold from the woman's head.

The terrified girl ceased her struggles.  Her green eyes stared at me in disbelief.  She saw a white man with his arms chained to a leather belt and his legs tethered a few inches apart.  It took her a few more seconds to realize I was naked.  She quickly glanced at my shaven genitals.  She grunted in disgust and closed her eyes as she turned her head away.  My wardrobe had obviously offended her female dignity.

Bloody Raven stepped in front of the woman.  She stood slightly to the left so the woman would see me.  She raised the knife to her chin.  The point made a light impression.  The woman slowly turned her head toward the princess.  She opened her eyes in absolute terror.  The Indian princess brought her finger to her lips in the quiet signal.  She pressed the knife a little tighter against the woman's chin.  The woman nodded.  Snow Wolf untied the scarf and pulled it gruffly from the woman's mouth.  

The white captive immediately began protesting.  "You won't get away with this!  My father will find me!  He'll kill you for...."

Slapppp!!!!  Her words stopped abruptly as Bloody Raven's open palm slapped her left cheek.  The blow was very hard, jerking the woman's head sideways.  Bloody Raven put her fingers to her lips to tell her captive to be quiet.  The princess had not spoken a word, Algonquian or English, since entering the camp.  I doubt she had let the prisoner know she spoke her language.  I sure was not stupid enough to tell her.

The frantic lady looked at me.  "What in the Hell is wrong with you!  Tell her she can't...."

Slaaapppp!!!!  The woman's head jerked violently as Bloody Raven's palm connected with her jaw.  This blow was much harder than the first.  The woman stopped yelling and burst into tears.

Bloody Raven grabbed the scarf from Snow Wolf and dangled it in front of the hysterical woman.  She put her finger to her mouth again.  She dangled the scarf in front of her.  The woman nodded.

Bloody Raven raised her knife to the throat of her frightened captive.  The threat was obvious.  She lowered the knife to the woman's belly.  She pierced the fabric of the dress and quickly brought the knife upward.  The checkered fabric fell to each side, revealing the woman's undergarments.  Bloody Raven repeated the move, this time slicing through the muslin garments.  Bloody Raven took the knife and sliced the woman's sleeves.  The dress and undergarments fell to her waist.  The woman's breasts now were bared for everyone to see.  They were magnificent.  The orbs were fairly large, and milk-white.  Her nipples were a pinkish color.  The areolas were as large as silver dollars.

The captive white woman was trembling in fear and embarrassment.  She stood tightly bound and half-naked in an Indian camp with a naked man bound in front of her.  Bloody Raven was enjoying her little party.  She reached down between her legs and rubbed her buckskin pants.  I guessed she was soaked with arousal.

The Indian princess began to stroke the trembling shoulders of her prey.  The prisoner quaked with sobs as tears streamed down her face.  With one quick slice of the knife, the dress and undergarments were completely cut through.  They tumbled to the ground at the terrified captive's feet.  She now stood before me with nothing but her underpants.  

Bloody Raven felt the fabric of the captive's underpants. She moved her hand into the writhing woman's crotch.  She cackled loudly as she held her glistening finger in the air.  The woman was aroused in spite of her terror.  Without warning, the knife slashed twice through the air.  The fabric was cut on both sides and fell to the ground.

Bloody Raven leaned over and picked the panties off of the ground.  She smelled the crotch and said something in Algonquian.  She turned to me and rubbed the crotch in my face.  She spoke to me in Algonquian and gave an evil grin that told me to snicker at the woman's desire.  She turned back to the woman and shoved the panties deep into her mouth.  At first the captive resisted.  But, the knife jabbed angrily against her chin resulted in immediate compliance.

Bloody Raven touched the woman's shoulder.  She joined her powerful hands together and placed them over her heart.  She then walked to me and placed her hands over my heart.  She then opened her arms as if she were giving me the world.  She grunted at me and nodded to the captive.

"Bloody Raven, the exulted goddess and high princess of the Blackfeet Nation, has offered you to me as a precious gift from the depths of her heart."  I decided to lay it on thick.  I was enjoying the show, hoping that the woman was a short-term prisoner who would be released soon.  "I must accept her gift.  To refuse a gift from the princess would be a disgraceful insult to Her Highness."  The woman mumbled a stifled protest into her gag.  "If I refuse, she will torture both of us to death.  If I accept, you will be my love slave.  But, at least you will be alive."

The combination of fear and disgust in the woman's eyes forced them to bulge.  She was whimpering.  She was terrified.  She was outraged.  And, despite her protests, she was mine.

I turned to Bloody Raven.  I pointed at the young woman.  I clasped my hands together and brought them to my heart.  I swayed slightly to each side as if hugging my hands.  Bloody Raven smiled at me.  Her face was beaming with pride.  She motioned for me to approach the woman.

My hands were still shackled to the leather belt.  I could not spread them more than a foot apart.  I could not raise them above my chest.  I could not lower them past my groin.  I stepped up to the woman and placed my hands on her waist.  I gazed into her eyes and began talking very softly.

"You have every reason to be scared.  Hell, I'm scared, too."  I attempted to comfort her as best I could.  "She is playing games with your mind.  She's trying to frighten you.  You must be brave.  But, you must not resist them.  I've seen their handiwork.  It is not pretty."

She was sobbing.  Tears streamed from her face.  She collapsed into my restrained arms.

"Listen, you are very beautiful.  Don't do anything stupid.  If you cooperate, you might be released.  If you resist and fight, they will torture you."

Bloody Raven shouted some orders in Algonquian.  Growling Bear and Snow Wolf scurried towards us.  They untied the captive's legs.  They each took one of the woman's arms.  They led her into the small cave.  Crying Dove stayed near the entrance to the main cave.  She seemed upset.  She seemed jealous.  Bloody Raven stepped before me.

"She is very pretty?"  She asked me.

"Yes, Your Highness.  She is beautiful."

"You like my gift?"  She asked in a playful tone.

"Your gift is generous beyond words."  I answered.  "But, why give a gift to a slave?"

"You have pleased me."  She smiled and swished her tongue around her lips.  "Your balls are throbbing.  You are very frustrated.  She will bring you relief."

"How long are you going to keep her?  What are you going to do with her?"

"Growling Bear wants to keep her as a pussy licker.  She could help with the cooking.  She could have your babies."

"Your Highness!"  I gasped in total disbelief.  "She is a beautiful and generous gift.  She is every white man's dream.  But, I cannot rape a helpless prisoner.  If I rape her, I would be no better than the long knives you despise.  You have been raped.  Why would you want to make any woman feel that pain and humiliation?  Take your revenge on the white men, the kind who hurt you."

Her look was one of pain.  She was not angry.  She actually looked sorry.  

"If you want me to have relief, why not let Crying Dove fuck me."  I was pushing my luck, but I seemed to have her consent to continue.  "I know you have seen her eyes.  She wants me inside of her.  She burns for a man.  Look at her.  She is jealous of the yellow-haired woman."

"Crying Dove is a warrior.  I do not need warriors with fat bellies and babies."  She paused.  "We will keep yellow hair for one day."  The princess declared.  "You will sleep with her tonight.  If you have sex it is between you.  She will suck you as often as you wish.  She will lick our pussies until we are pleased.  Then we will take her to Fort Bridger.  Her family will probably wait there until the long knives stop looking for her."

"They're still alive?"  I asked ignorantly.

"I do not slaughter families!"  Rage glistened in her eyes.  She was upset by my suggestion.  "I kill long knives.  I kill men who rape Indian women.  I am not a savage!"

"I am sorry Your Highness.  I did not mean to insult you."  I stammered, fearing that I had destroyed her trust in me.

"Cum Eater was right to not wish harm on the woman.  Bloody Raven is not insulted.  Bloody Raven is pleased she has found a decent man to be her slave."  She smiled at me and rubbed my limp cock.  "Yellow hair will give us much pleasure before she leaves."  She turned toward the small cave and barked an order in Algonquian.

Growling Bear led the trembling nude blonde from the cave.  The warriors had braided her hair into a long, wide mane that fell to the small of her back.  They had cleaned the tears from her face and used berries to stain her lips a sensual red color.  Her hands were cuffed and tethered behind her back with a short chain.  Her ankles were cuffed and tethered with a two-foot chain.  She could walk freely, but could not run or kick.

Snow Wolf grabbed my arm and led me to the tree where I had been bound during my shave.  She removed my belt from my waist and looped it around the tree limb.  My arms were stretched above my head.  I could stand flat-footed, but I could not bring my arms down.  Bloody Raven rubbed my face, frowning at the stubble that had grown during the day.  She rubbed my balls and frowned in a disgusted manner.  She barked an order in Algonquian.  Immediately, Crying Dove scurried to the cooking area and brought a bowl of water and my razor.

The frightened blonde was forced to stand a few feet from me.  She looked on with apprehension as Bloody Raven lathered my face.  Her look changed to fear as the Indian princess quickly stroked the razor down my cheeks, around my chin, and up my neck.  In a few minutes, my face was clean-shaven.  Once again, the remarkable princess had completed the shave without a nick in my flesh.

The captive woman gasped in terror and turned her head when Bloody Raven lathered my genitals.  Growling Bear grunted in the prisoner's ear and turned her head toward me.  The warrior grunted again and touched the white woman's eyes to make her open them and watch the spectacle.  Small tears formed in the blonde's eyes as she watched Bloody Raven playfully, yet masterfully, shave my cock and balls.  Several strokes of the razor later, I was as smooth as a baby's rump.  Bloody Raven placed the razor in the bowl and towel dried my groin.  She cooed and awed as she rubbed her fingers over my freshly shaved manhood.  She smiled at the trembling woman and licked her lips in mock delight.

Crying Dove returned the bowl and razor to the cooking area.  She slowly returned to the tree where I stood incapacitated.  The other three warriors were whooping and shrieking in delight.  They were enjoying the show.  The look on the young warrior's face was anything but gleeful.  She was jealous of the yellow-haired white woman.  She was angry at Bloody Raven.  She was aching in her loins to have this man inside of her.

Bloody Raven grunted.  Growling Bear led the captive woman in front of me.  She placed a less than gentle hand on the woman's shoulder and forced her to kneel in front of me.  Her face was directly in front of my groin.  She closed her eyes and turned her head away.  Growling Bear grabbed a handful of braided blonde hair.  She twisted the woman's face back toward my groin.  She gruffly twisted the fistful of hair.  The woman squealed in pain, but opened her eyes.  Bloody Raven was standing slightly to the side of the woman.  The princess barked an order in Algonquian.  To reinforce the order, she stuck her tongue out and licked at the air.  Bloody Raven pulled her knife from its sheath and placed it against the woman's neck.

The woman momentarily looked as if she would feint.  Then she brought her mouth to my cock.  She licked my cock with her tongue.  It only took a few moments for my member to become fully engorged.  The blonde looked surprised by the growing organ.  I was probably the first man she had ever seen in this context.  She continued to lick my cock, occasionally licking my balls.  She obviously had no idea how to suck a man.  Bloody Raven chuckled at the captive's awkward attempts.  The princess grunted some comment in Algonquian.  She grabbed my dick in her right hand. She grabbed the woman's jaws in her left hand, forcing her mouth to open in an "O".  She moved the woman's mouth over my cock and grunted another command in Algonquian.

The young blonde was quaking in fear and humiliation.  She awkwardly sucked on my cock.  I would be lying if I said it did not feel good.  But, Bloody Raven knew the woman needed to do more.  She grabbed her braided hair and began to move her head up and down.  The woman's mouth was now fucking my cock as she sucked and licked.  Several minutes passed before my belly began to twitch.  The woman stopped sucking for a second.  Bloody Raven barked an order in Algonquian.  She twisted the handful of blonde hair and shoved the woman's face deep into my crotch.  The terrified woman began bobbing her head up and down my shaft as my body convulsed.  Bloody Raven held her head firmly in place as I shot load after load of cum into he lovely mouth.  

When I had finally stopped spurting globs of cum, Bloody Raven pulled the woman's head off of my cock.  The Indian immediately placed her knife at the woman's throat and barked another order in Algonquian.  Bloody Raven licked her lips, made a swallowing gesture, and then hummed in delight.  The woman's eyes bugged in horror.  Her milky-white throat began to move in swallowing motions, and she licked my cum from her lips.  Tears were streaming down her face as she swallowed every drop of my seed. 

Bloody Raven pulled on the woman's hair, and gruffly pulled her to her feet.  She spun her prisoner around to face the warriors.  She yelled something in Algonquian.  The warriors responded with war whoops and laughter.  Growling Bear made sucking and licking gestures.  The embarrassed woman's face had blushed to a bright shade of crimson.

Suddenly, the white woman stopped trembling.  Her body stiffened with resolve.  "Alright, you God damned bitch!"  She shouted in unbelievable fury.  Bloody Raven released her grip from the woman's hair.  "You can have your disgusting fun now. I'll get loose.  And, when I do, I'll cut your fucking tongue out."

Bloody Raven leaned forward and put her face directly in front of the sobbing woman's face.  "I told them you were the worst cock sucker in the world.  I also told them you must be a much better pussy licker."  Bloody Raven grinned wickedly at the bewildered woman.  "And when you try to cut my tongue out, you are in for the fight of your life."

"You speak English?"  The woman gasped as she tried to understand the horrifying day she had endured.  "Why are you doing this to me?  Why won't you let me go?"  The woman began sobbing as her shoulders began to quake.

Bloody Raven reached into her waistband and pulled out the woman's underpants.  She forcefully shoved them into the woman's mouth.  Crying Dove scampered to the small cave and returned with a long piece of cloth.  Bloody Raven tied the cloth around her prisoner's head and forced the panties deeper into her mouth.




Chapter 6 - Sacrificing A Virgin


Bloody Raven dragged the woman near the fire and pushed her into a kneeling position.  Bloody Raven sat next to captive with her legs crossed.  Crying Dove unfastened my belt from the tree and placed it around my waist.  I was back in my standard bondage.  Crying Dove stuck her hand in her pants.  She pulled it out and put her finger in my mouth.  She was very aroused.  She looked at me with a sexy, yet forlorn pout.  She led me to the cooking area and helped me serve dinner.

While the four warriors ate dinner, I knelt in front of Bloody Raven.  The confused, terrified blonde knelt next to the princess.  She eyed me with suspicion.  I knelt until one of the warriors spoke.  I deciphered their wishes and responded as quickly as my hobbles would allow me.  I would then return to my kneeling position.

Bloody Raven looked at the woman.  "Are you hungry?"  The question was asked in a sympathetic tone.  "I would have you fed, but your loud mouth has caused you trouble."  Bloody Raven grinned at her.  "If you promise to behave, you can eat scraps with Cum Eater."

The woman looked at the Indian with an amused look.  You could see the question through her eyes.  She wanted so desperately to confirm what she had heard.  I also saw a desire to taunt me with her new knowledge.  Everything in her expression was asking, "Cum Eater?"

Bloody Raven did not miss the visual exchange.  "Oh, how very rude of me.  Where are my manners?  I did not introduce you."  She chuckled.  She said something in Algonquian to the others.  They chuckled in return.

"I am Bloody Raven That Kills In The Night.  I am Princess of the Blackfeet and goddess to my people."  She nodded to her prisoner.  "That is Growling Bear.  That is Snow Wolf.  And, the jealous one that wants to torture your breasts and pussy for hours before she cuts your throat is Crying Dove."

The blonde gasped at the introduction of Crying Dove.  The young warrior's lust for me was not lost on the others.  Bloody Raven could see her infatuation in her eyes.

"Oh, yes!  I almost forgot."  Bloody Raven continued.  "This clean-shaven young man used to be a Pony Express Rider.  Now, he is our slave.  He cooks and cleans for us.  He drinks our piss when we need to relieve ourselves.  He uses his tongue to please us.  Unfortunately, he is not allowed to use his pathetic cock for anything.  He used to have a name, but we changed it to Cum Eating Worm That Crawls In Caves To Lick Pussies."  She chuckled.

"You are now his slave."  Bloody Raven grinned as the woman gasped behind her gag.  "You will help him cook and clean.  You will drink his piss.  And, you will keep his pathetic cock satisfied so that he doesn't offend us with the scrawny thing."  The woman once more began to sob.  Bloody Raven let out a huge laugh.

"Tisk! Tisk!  Where are my manners?"  A very wicked grin eased across the lips of the Blackfeet princess.  "I forgot to ask you your name.  Since you cannot answer, I guess we will have to give you another one.  I believe Crying Dove had a suggestion."  She turned to Crying Dove and asked something in Algonquian.  

Crying Dove responded with an evil laugh and a hate-filled glare for the white woman.  The others guffawed and bent over from the hilarity of the answer.

"Oh, yes!"  Bloody Raven quipped with a grin.  "She calls you Yellow-haired Whore That Sucks Cock And Eats Pussy Like A Bitch In Heat."  She chuckled loudly.  "Everyone seems to agree it fits you perfectly.  That is how we will introduce you to others.  The rest of the time, we will just call you Yellow Whore."

"It is good that Crying Dove is so fond of you.  Each morning, after she shaves Cum Eater, she will prepare you for the day.  She will braid your hair.  I hope she doesn't pull it too tight.  She will color your face and lips.  I know she likes bright red, which will be perfect for a whore such as you.  And of course, she will shave your pussy to make sure it is smooth and clean.  I would hate to think what she could do to you with a razor if she didn't like you."

The terrified woman began to sob as tears flowed down her cheeks.  From the moment she had been captured, she had been tormented by the Indians.  Bloody Raven was using every mind game she could to keep the trembling blonde near hysteria.

"Do you have any idea how many ways there are to torture a woman?"  She snickered.  "I have a lot of ideas.  Imagine what your pretty face would look like if I cut it and burned it.  You would have lots of ugly scars, just like the long knives did to me."  She pointed at the wicked scar on her left side.  "How would you ever function if I cut off your thumbs and toes.  Think how your breasts would feel if I pierced your nipples with sticks and hung them from a tree.  Think how your ass would feel if I shoved a tree branch in it.  Even worse, imagine a hot poker in your ass.  Just think what fun I could have with knives and sticks shoved in and out of your smelly pussy."

I was amazed that the trembling woman found new heights of terror.  Each time I thought she had reached her limit, Bloody Raven pushed her further.

"None of those things will happen if you obey me."  She smiled softly at her victim.  "You cook and clean and keep us sexually satisfied and we will not harm you.  In a few days you will be a good servant.  You will serve us well for years to come.  Once you get too old, we will decide whether to torture you to death, or just mercifully slit your throat."

Bloody Raven turned to her warriors and spent a few minutes recounting everything she had said in English.  She probably told them what was coming next.  The blonde sat kneeling beside the princess.  Her eyes reflected the terror that filled every inch of her soul.  She had stopped sobbing.  She watched every move Bloody Raven made and cringed at each word she spoke.

"In a few seconds I will remove your gag.  You will not speak.  If you say one word, I will show you tongue torture that you could never imagine."  She gently rubbed the milky-white shoulder of the young woman.  "You may eat with Cum Eater.  Neither of you may talk."

Bloody Raven untied the scarf and removed the panties from the woman's mouth.  The woman wiggled her tongue inside her mouth.  She did not utter a sound.

I climbed to my feet and began clearing dishes.  I took them to the cooking area.  My last trip, I took Yellow Whore by the arm and coaxed her to follow me.  Since her hands were tethered behind her back, I fed her scraps of rabbit meat and let her sip stew from a cup.  Once we had filled our stomachs, I helped her sit on the ground.  She could not help me with her hands behind her.  I cleaned up the mess as she watched. 

We returned to the campfire.  We knelt before Bloody Raven.  I saw Crying Dove carrying several bundles into the clearing.  I saw leather and chains.  I had a feeling Yellow Whore was in for some more "fun."

Bloody Raven climbed to her feet.  She touched my head.  I stayed kneeling in my spot.  She grabbed Yellow Whore by the arm and pulled her to her feet.  Bloody Raven gave her the finger to lips signal as a reminder to not speak.  The two women walked to the pile of bondage equipment.  Bloody Raven touched the prisoner's shoulder.  Yellow Whore knelt.  Bloody Raven touched her again, pushing gently.  Yellow Whore eased her body onto the ground and rolled onto her back.  Her hands were trapped at her side by the chain that ran behind her back and connected the cuffs.

Crying Dove stepped around by Yellow Whore's feet.  The young warrior made a small kicking motion followed by a slash across her throat.  Yellow Whore nodded.  Crying Dove grabbed a four-foot long pole.  She released the hobble chain from the captive's ankle cuffs.  She fastened the bar to each cuff.  Yellow Whore's legs were spread painfully wide.  Her pussy and ass were open to any torture the Indians wished to inflict upon her.

Crying Dove grabbed a long piece of rope.  She tied one end of the rope to the left ankle of the helpless blonde.  Growling Bear pushed the spreader pole upward, causing Yellow Whore to bend at the waist.  Crying Dove looped the cord under the blonde's head and attached the loose end to her right ankle.  Now, Yellow Whore was spread wide open and her pussy was pointing toward the sky.

Crying Dove pulled a bar of soap from a bowl of water near her side.  She lathered the kinky golden pubic hair of her rival.  She took my razor and carefully shaved the golden hair from Yellow Whore's pussy.  After several minutes, Crying Dove rinsed the lather from the woman's legs and wiped her dry with a cloth.  There was not one cry or one drop of blood.  Despite her wishes to do otherwise, Crying Dove had performed her task perfectly.

Yellow Whore squirmed impatiently on the ground.  Her legs hurt from being spread so far apart.  The air across her bare pussy tickled in a way she had never felt.  She had endured the shaving ritual, now she wanted released.  She looked at Bloody Raven in exasperation.  She dare not speak for fear of torture.
  
Bloody Raven stepped between the helpless woman's legs.  She placed her hands on her hips and inspected the smooth pussy.  "Crying Dove has done well.  Your pussy now looks like a whore should."  She lifted her buckskin moccasin and rubbed the pouting flesh.

"I gave Cum Eater a choice.  He could rape you while you are helpless.  That is the way of the white man.  Or I would torture him to death."  She paused as Yellow Whore gasped at the two options.  "Admirably, he chose his own death."  She paused again.  "I will allow you to change his mind.  You may speak to him.  You must beg him to fuck your pussy.  You must beg for his cock like the whore you are."

"Please don't make me do this.  Please!"  The blonde began to beg.  

Bloody Raven pulled her knife from her sheath.  She walked to me and pulled me to my feet.  Yellow Whore watched as Bloody Raven placed the knife against my scrotum.  She turned to look at the hysterical woman that was writhing on the ground.

"God!  No!  Don't hurt him!  Please!  I'll let him fuck me!  Just don't kill him!"

Bloody Raven took my balls in her left hand and eased the knife under them.  "Beg him to fuck you.  Tell him what a whore you are."

"Please fuck me!  Slide your big cock into my pussy!  I'm a whore!  I need you to fuck me!  Oh God!  Please fuck me!"

Bloody Raven smiled as she listened to the woman beg for my life.  I looked at Bloody Raven.

"It seems she wants you to fuck her.  That isn't rape."  She smiled like a cat that had caught a mouse.

"She is only acting under duress.  She doesn't want fucked.  She just doesn't want to be responsible for my death."

"If you thought she truly wanted it, would you fuck her."

"No!  She is very beautiful.  But, I am in love with another.  I have a lovely fiancée.  If I survive, I will marry her."

"You surprise me.  You are not like other white men.  You have honor.  You respect women.  Your fiancée is very lucky.  I almost wish that I could fuck you."

"Your Highness, I'm afraid if you and your warriors ever started fucking me, I'd never want to go back."

"Hmmmmph!"  She replied in disbelief.  She turned away and stepped to her bound captive.

"I'm afraid Cum Eater does not want you."  She smiled as Yellow Whore looked up in disbelief.  "The lowly worm that crawls on his belly to eat pussy does not want to fuck your filthy hole.  The lowly man that eats his own cum to save his own worthless life does not desire your disgusting body.  He thinks you are a filthy, worthless whore.  He says he'd rather lose his cock than be forced to fuck your dirty pussy."

Yellow Whore was bawling hysterically.  Part of her felt scorn that she was not desirable.  Part of her felt relief that she would not be raped.  Part of her was scared that she would be tortured.  Her emotions were completely out of control.  Bloody Raven had won the mind game.  Not that it was ever much of a contest.

Bloody Raven stood over her conquest.  "Well, you are so disgusting that no man will fuck you."  She placed her foot against the bare pussy and rubbed very hard.  "I guess we will have to fuck you some other way."

"Please no!"  Yellow Whore gasped in panic.  "I don't want fucked.  Just leave me alone."

Growling Bear and Snow Wolf both picked up broom handles.  They dipped some lard from a small bowl and lubricated the rods.  Growling Bear approached the helpless woman.  She prodded at her ass with the pole.  She gruffly poked at the exposed anus.  After a few jabs, the pole penetrated Yellow Whore's ass.  The warrior worked the pole in and out until it was buried about eighteen inches inside of the squealing woman.

"All whores love to be fucked in the ass.  Beg her to fuck your ass!"  Bloody Raven commanded the hapless blonde.

"Please no!"  The writhing prisoner gasped.  "Please!  Oh, please!  Okay!  Okay!  Please fuck my ass!  I'm a filthy whore! Please fuck my ass!  Please fuck my pussy too!"

Bloody Raven smiled at Snow Wolf.  The second warrior inserted the wooden handle into the bald, moist pussy.  She shoved it deeply inside of the woman.

"Beg slut!  Beg them to fuck you hard."

"Oh please!  Fuck my whore ass hard!  Shove that wooden cock deep into my whore pussy!  Make me cum!  Fuck me hard!  Fuck me forever!"

I was beginning to wonder how much of the pleading was from fear.  It was beginning to sound more like lust.  The two warriors alternately drove their poles deep inside her and pulled them back.  They smiled as they coordinated their efforts.  One would plunge into her while the other would pull out.

"Oh please!  Make this whore cum!  Fuck me in both holes!  Please fuck harder!"

Yellow Whore was breathing very hard.  She was very close to cumming.  She was screaming at the warriors to fuck her harder.  She was so distracted by her ecstasy that she never saw Crying Dove.  The young warrior saw a chance to further humiliate her rival, while gaining the approval of her peers.  She had shed her moccasins and rawhide pants.  She straddled the writhing prisoner's face.  Just as the young, inexperienced blonde crashed into the first orgasm of her life, the young warrior unleashed a steady stream of piss on her face.  Yellow Whore moaned in ecstasy at the same time that she sputtered from the liquid dousing her face.  Crying Dove grunted something in Algonquian and grabbed the struggling blonde's jaws.  The piss flowed quickly into her mouth, forcing her to swallow repeatedly.

I stared in amazement.  Earlier today, this young woman had never had a sexual experience.  Since that time, she had been kidnapped by Indians and traveled for miles while bound and slung on her belly over a horse's back.  She had been psychologically tortured with threats of rape, physical violence, and death.  She had been paraded around the camp while totally nude.  She had been forced to suck my cock and swallow my cum.  Finally, she had been raped by broomsticks in her pussy and ass while having a woman piss in her face.  I truly expected her to go completely crazy.

My attention was suddenly shifted to a heated debate between Bloody Raven and Crying Dove.  I could not understand them.  The other two warriors were shouting to express their opinions.  Bloody Raven held her hand in the air.  The three warriors immediately stopped yelling.

Bloody Raven walked to me.  She began talking softly, so that Yellow Whore would not hear.  "Crying Dove is very jealous.  She wants to leave Yellow Whore soaked in piss and tie her to stakes in the ground.  Growling Bear wants to bathe her in the stream and have her lick us to orgasms.  I think she has had all that she can take.  I wanted to let her sleep in the small cave with you.  You can comfort her tonight.  We can enjoy her tomorrow."

"Your Highness, you ask me, a prisoner and a slave, for advice on treating another prisoner?"  I was befuddled.  "I would prefer that we both be allowed to sleep in peace and comfort and be released tomorrow morning."

"No!"  Her look was stern but not angry.

"Okay, then a compromise of your wishes might be possible."  I paused to collect my breath.  Let Growling Bear clean her.  Let her pleasure each of you.  Then, she can sleep with me.  I will comfort her and try to make her obey you.  Tomorrow, Crying Dove can shave her and decorate her.  Then, you may all piss in her mouth.  Crying Dove can then bring her back to camp and bind her until noon.  Then she can be cleaned and readied to pleasure you all afternoon."

Bloody Raven stared at me.  "Cum Eater, you are a very wise man.  You know when to talk.  You know when to be silent.  You respect everyone.  If all men could be like you, we might be living in peace."  She smiled.

Bloody Raven turned to the warriors and announced her decision.  Growling Bear and Snow Wolf hurried to the writhing woman.  They released her legs from the spreader bar.  They attached the two-foot hobble chain to her ankles.  They grabbed her by the arms and helped her to her feet.  She glanced at me with a dazed expression as she was led from the camp.

Crying Dove was slowly fumbling with utensils in the cooking area.  Her jealousy was driving her crazy.  She wanted to climb on top of the white man and fuck him until she passed out from exhaustion.  She would not mind sharing the white man with her Blackfeet sisters.  But, she was disappointed that she could not have him.  She was absolutely furious that Bloody Raven had brought the yellow-haired white bitch into camp for the white man.

About a hour later, the two warriors entered the camp with the shackled blonde staggering in front of them.  They had bathed her in the stream and cleaned the piss from her hair.  They had braided her hair in the same style as earlier.  They had also highlighted her lips and nipples with berry juice.  Her face was fresh and clean.  The fear that had gripped her face the entire evening had disappeared.  Her wrists and ankles were encased in leather cuffs.  Her hands were hobbled to her side by a chain behind running her back.  If she moved one hand forward, the other was pulled behind her.  Her feet were hobbled by the two-foot chain.  She wore a beautiful woven rawhide necklace.

The warriors led Yellow Whore to the center of camp.  They forced her to kneel before Bloody Raven.  I was already kneeling at Bloody Raven's right side.  The warriors stepped back a few paces.

"Yellow Whore will use her vile tongue to pleasure Growling Bear and Snow Wolf.  Cum Eater will use his slithering tongue to pleasure Crying Dove.  I must be alone and ask the spirits to guide our tribe."  Bloody Raven walked slowly to the edge of camp.  She disappeared into the woods.  

Yellow Whore was lifted to her feet.  She was led by the two warriors into the main cave.  I do not know what happened in that cave.  Two horny Indian women in a cave with a frightened, shackled white woman.  I believe Yellow Whore's tongue was going to be very tired.

I was kneeling in my spot waiting on Crying Dove.  She remained in the cooking area, where she pouted for several minutes.  She finally sauntered to me.  She helped me to my feet and led me to the small cave.  She pressed my shoulder and guided me into a kneeling position.  She turned and spread her blanket on the floor.  For the past five days, she would have quickly undressed and shoved my face into her pussy.

Tonight was different.  Her feelings were hurt.  She knelt before me.  She gazed into my eyes.  She moved her hands around her face and asked me a question in Algonquian.  I could only guess what she was asking.  I had quickly developed a rapport with her.  It was like I understood every gesture and every command.

"Crying Dove is very beautiful."  I whispered.  I raised my manacled hands toward her face.  The chains stopped me.  "Your face is very lovely."

She smiled as she felt the compliment.  She could not understand the words, but she understood the sound of my voice.  She rubbed her hands on her belly and sides.  She reached for my hands and pulled them to her.  I rubbed her sides.

"Crying Dove has a wonderful body and smooth, lovely skin."  I said.

Again she smiled as she felt my admiration.  She touched my hands and guided them to her legs.  I had to lean over to touch her thighs.  I leaned further to stretch the chains.  I lightly rubbed my hands down her thighs, over her knees, and down her calves.  I lightly touched her skin as I returned upward to her thighs.

"Crying Dove has very shapely, beautiful legs."  I whispered.

Her eyes beamed with delight.  Her smile showed she understood my compliments.  She untied the rawhide laces that held her buckskin top around her breasts.  She very slowly eased the laces apart, showing just a peek of her lovely breasts.  She smiled in a sensual pout.  Her eyes were begging for more compliments.

I raised my hands to her breasts.  I could barely touch them as the chains held my hands to my belt.  She smiled as she gradually eased the top open.  Each little movement revealed a little more of her reddish-brown orbs.  She was teasing me with her actions, and she loved every minute of it.  

She finally finished unlacing the top.  She gracefully spread her arms apart with the top pulling open.  I was staring directly at her lovely breasts.  She flung the top around my head with her right hand.  She caught the loose end in her left hand.  She had wrapped the top behind my head.  She pulled slowly, yet forcefully until my nose was buried between her cleavage.

I nuzzled my face between her breasts.  I moved my head from side to side.  I yearned to tenderly touch her breasts with my fingers.  I raised my hands and the chains stretched tightly as my fingers found their marks.  I gently caressed her nipples in my fingertips.  I tenderly kissed her breasts with my lips and tongue.

She moaned under my touches.  She began to unlace the drawstrings that held her buckskin pants tightly around her waist.  She slid her pants over her shapely rump and down her luscious thighs.  They could go no further as her over-the-calf moccasins impeded their progress.

I slowly moved my hands down her sides as my mouth began a tantalizing migration from her breasts, down her tummy, around her pelvis, and down her thighs.  I began to unlace and remove her moccasins as my tongue tickled her inner thighs.  The longer she waited for her moccasins and pants to be removed, the more aroused she became.  By the time the pants were finally removed, she was nearly insane with lust.

I slowly kissed up her inner thigh until my face was in her soaking wet bush.  I plunged my tongue deep inside her womanhood.  I licked and probed her innermost parts.  Then, I pulled back and began sucking her clit.  In seconds she exploded with an orgasm.  She trembled and quaked as her pussy was engulfed by spasm after spasm.  It seemed like a blissful eternity.  

After a few minutes of post-orgasmic ecstasy, she began to writhe in lust.  She stood up and pulled me onto the blanket.  She rolled me onto my back.  She straddled my face with her head over my groin.  She lowered her pussy onto my face.  I lapped and licked her swollen lips.  I plunged my tongue inside of her again.

I gasped as I felt her tongue lick from the base of my dick to its tip.   I doubled my efforts to please her.  She slowly engulfed my throbbing cock in her mouth.  It seemed as if time stood still.  My mind slowly drifted in the ecstasy.  I probed deep inside of her with my hungry tongue.  She moved her lips up and down my shaft as her tongue delightfully teased me.  The pleasure of giving to someone so dear as they gave pleasure to me warmed my soul.  There was no fear for my life.  There was no thinking of escape.  This young warrior had captured my love.

Her petite, luscious body tensed.  She began to tremble in orgasmic frenzy.  She uncontrollably jerked, forcing her pussy deeper into my face.  Her mouth pulled upward on my shaft.  A desperate moan escaped her lips.  As she tensed for the third wave of ecstasy, I began to spasm.  My cum spurted into her mouth in one, two, and finally a third glob.  She swallowed eagerly.  Her body began to stop trembling.  As she collapsed on top of me, her pussy smothered my face.  Despite her exhaustion, she slowly licked the mixture of my cum and her saliva from my still pulsating cock.

Crying Dove was finally satisfied.  She was satisfied that she had thoroughly cleaned my cock.  She was satisfied that we had climaxed together.  She was satisfied that I did not covet the beautiful blonde woman.  She was satisfied that I found her desirable.  Still, there was a hollow burning in her eyes.  I felt like her eyes possessed an unfulfilled lust.  I realized she still wanted my cock inside of her.  I did not think Bloody Raven would ever allow that to happen.

Crying Dove struggled to lift her exhausted body off of me.  Her eyes looked dazed as she crawled next to me.  She rolled me on my side and pressed her body firmly against mine.  She reached over and pulled the blanket around us.  Within minutes she was sound asleep.  I spent a few minutes admiring her features.  Before I knew it, I was drifting into a deep, peaceful sleep. 




Chapter 7 - The Price Of Freedom


I awoke the next morning to the gentle touch of Crying Dove's fingers tracing patterns on my nipples.  As I opened my eyes, she smiled.  She hugged me fiercely and planted a deep, probing kiss on my mouth.  The kiss continued to grow more passionate.  I could feel her trembling with desire.  

My cock began to grow.  I was now fully erect.  The long, throbbing probe brushed against her shiny black bush.  She was very wet.  I heard her moan in frustration.  A look of total defeat crossed her face.  My cock was pressing against her womanhood.  She knew she could not let it enter.  Then a smile crossed her face.  If she could not fuck me, at least she could have the next best thing.  She slowly rose to her knees and rolled me onto my back.  Once again her pussy was pressing against my face.  Once again, her tongue was teasing my bouncing rod.  The minutes passed with a fury of oral ministrations.  We both came at the same time.  

Crying Dove twisted around and hugged me once more.  We lay together for several minutes.  She finally sighed in resignation.  Her look was very easy to read.  She wanted to stay wrapped in the blanket with me pressed against her.  She wanted to spend the entire day snuggled together.  She wanted to fuck me.  

Instead, she knew we had to start our morning routine.  She climbed to her feet.  She did not get dressed.  She pulled me to my feet.  She led me to the cooking area.  She lathered and shaved my face.  She playfully lathered and shaved my genitals.  She was enjoying our nude romp around the camp.  She continued to rub her silky skin against me as we prepared the morning meal.

We both startled as we heard a muffled sound coming from the woods.  Crying Dove grabbed her bow and an arrow.  She sighed in relief as Bloody Raven stepped into the clearing.  The princess had spent the entire night in the woods speaking with the spirits.  She was tired.  She looked troubled.  She looked at us and a smile slowly eased across her weary face.  The smile revealed her thoughts.  Gazing at the nude warrior, she knew her young protégé had enjoyed her night with the white man.

Bloody Raven asked Crying Dove a question.  Crying Dove sheepishly smiled and answered.  Bloody Raven asked another question.  Crying Dove grinned and answered again.  Bloody Raven asked a third question.  Crying Dove immediately looked angry.  Her tone was gruff, and her answer was emphatic.  Bloody Raven smiled.  The princess spoke to the warrior in a soft voice.  Crying Dove's face erupted in a very happy, mischievous smile.  I looked at the princess with a quizzical expression.  She smiled at me and said nothing.  I was not to know the secret.

Bloody Raven sat on a large rock.  Crying Dove was smiling and humming to herself as she guided me through preparing breakfast.  We heard a series of rustling noises coming from the main cave.  Snow Wolf emerged in her buckskins.  She glanced back at the cave and chuckled.  Several minutes later, Growling Bear emerged fully dressed with Yellow Whore beside her.  Yellow Whore was completely nude except for her wrist and ankle cuffs and her woven rawhide necklace.  Growling Bear had a strange contented expression on her face.  For the first time since I had been captured, Growling Bear seemed happy.

The mood changed quickly.  Crying Dove grabbed the razor and the bowl of water.  She spoke to Growling Bear.  Growling Bear snarled a reply.  The two warriors exchanged fierce looks as they bickered with each other.  Bloody Raven barked an order.  The argument immediately stopped.  There was an eerie silence in the camp.  Bloody Raven angrily began a long speech to the warriors.  Neither Crying Dove nor Growling Bear looked happy with the results.

Bloody Raven grabbed my right arm and walked to Yellow Whore.  She grabbed the trembling woman's left arm.  She took us a few paces away from the warriors.  She gently urged both of us to kneel.  We were facing the warriors.  We were just far enough apart that Bloody Raven could stand between us.

"The discussion concerns both of you.  Crying Dove insists that she be allowed to shave Yellow Whore's pussy.  Then, she wishes to spend the entire day torturing her.  At nightfall, she wishes to send her to a slow and painful death."

The blonde prisoner began to sob.  Her shoulders quaked with each cry.  She was already frightened beyond words.

"Growling Bear is angry.  She wishes to claim Yellow Whore as her personal love slave.  She wishes for the white slut to sleep with her and pleasure only her.  She wishes to keep Yellow Whore forever."

The blonde started whimpering. "I don't want to be a slave.  I don't want to die. I just want to go home.  I want my mother and father."

Bloody Raven touched her shoulder.  The girl continued sobbing but stopped talking.

"Crying Dove has countered with a request that Cum Eater become her husband.  This whole situation presents many problems.  I spent the entire night talking to the spirits."

Bloody Raven stepped in front of me.  She bent at the waist and grabbed my chin in her right hand.  "Cum Eater, the yellow-haired bitch was a gift to you.  You may give her to Growling Bear and she will live with her forever.  Or, you may give her to Crying Dove so that she may be tortured and killed.  Or, you may keep her for yourself so that she may serve you and all of us.  Which do you choose?"

"Your Highness, this is a very difficult situation."  I stated with an uncertainty in my voice.  She nodded.  "Cum Eater is very fond of Crying Dove.  She is young, beautiful, and passionate.  It would be a great honor to belong to her and offer the white whore as a sacrifice to her.  But, Cum Eater is also very fond of the great and beautiful princess and goddess of the Blackfeet.  He would very much like to continue serving both the great leader, Bloody Raven, and still serve the beautiful warriors; Crying Dove, Growling Bear, and Snow Wolf."  I paused to measure her receptiveness.  She appeared content to listen.  "The white whore has done nothing to deserve torture and death.  She is an innocent victim.  She only wishes to be free.  Cum Eater does not wish to offend Crying Dove by denying her revenge.  Cum Eater does not wish to offend Growling Bear by denying her a love slave she desires so strongly. Cum Eater does not wish to offend Bloody Raven by seeming ungrateful for her wonderful, considerate gift.  But, Cum Eater wishes for this poor, terrified woman to be returned to her family unharmed."

Bloody Raven released my chin.  She stepped to the woman and grabbed her chin so firmly that the woman could not speak.  She gazed into the trembling blonde's tear-filled eyes.  She squeezed the tender cheeks a little harder and continued staring into her eyes as she spoke.

"Cum Eater is very noble to wish for the woman's safety and well-being.  Bloody Raven is not offended.  Bloody Raven sees the woman's fear and feels the woman's pain.  Bloody Raven will grant her slave's wish.  Tomorrow morning, the white bitch will be returned to her family."

She released the woman's chin with a painful twist of her wrist.  She stepped to me.  "Crying Dove's jealousy is unfounded.  The white whore did not come here to steal Cum Eater's heart.  I brought Yellow Whore here against her will.  Likewise, Cum Eater does not love or desire the white whore.  He only shows concern for her safety.  Since he wishes to set her free, I give her to Growling Bear until tomorrow."

Bloody Raven turned to the confused white woman.  She grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.  The Indian princess led her to Growling Bear and pushed her into the warrior's arms.  The naked blonde's breasts pressed into Growling Bear's side.  With her arms hobbled at her sides and her feet hobbled about two feet apart, the captive let her weight rest against the Indian's body.  Her trembling had stopped and the fear had left her eyes.  She seemed eager to please her new mistress until her freedom was secured.

Bloody Raven returned to me.  She raised her moccasin-covered right foot to my groin and playfully teased my manhood.  An evil smirk graced her lips.

She spoke softly so that no one else would hear.  "You present me with a much greater problem.  You are so noble and handsome that I desire you for myself.  Crying Dove is terribly smitten by you.  You are supposed to serve all of us.  I now have to be very diplomatic to avoid a violent mutiny."

She turned to the group.  "Since Cum Eater has chosen the safety of the white whore over the pleasure of the tribe, he must be punished."  She repeated her edict in Algonquian.  "He has denied Crying Dove the pleasure of torturing the filthy whore, so he will take the whore's place and be tortured the entire day by Crying Dove.  Once we return from the fort, he will be punished more.  For denying Growling Bear a lifetime love slave, she will torture him for one day.  For denying all of us the pleasure and service of the white slut, he will be tortured the next day by Snow Wolf.  For placing the white slut's safety above the honor of a princess' gift, he will be tortured by me for as long as I desire, possibly weeks.  Then, I will decide if he shall live or die."

During the pronouncement, Yellow Whore's face grew steadily more pale and tense.  She looked at me in horror.  I had put my life in jeopardy to let her go free.

Bloody Raven walked to the stricken captive.   She grabbed her chin and turned her face towards her own.  "The Pony Rider knew he was risking great pain and death to set you free.  You will watch and share his pain.  It is to save your life that he endures great agony."

Bloody Raven returned to me.  She whispered softly, "You are not being punished for your actions.  Your torture is meant to punish Crying Dove for her jealousy of the white bitch.  I make her hurt you a little, but it will hurt her so much more.  Once the white whore is gone, your punishment will be finished."  She smiled at me.  She grabbed my face, pinching my jaws.  She twisted my jaws as she gruffly released them.  

Bloody Raven turned to the warriors and issued a series of firm orders.  Snow Wolf moved to the cooking area and busied herself with finishing breakfast.  Growling Bear led Yellow Whore by the arm and disappeared into the main cave.  Crying Dove stood before Bloody Raven.  The young warrior was still naked except for my rawhide hat on her head.  Her face was tense and her eyes were moist from tears.  Bloody Raven spoke to her in a soft, yet stern voice.  The young warrior nodded.  Her head lowered to the ground in sorrow, the young warrior slowly walked to the small cave.

I spent the next fifteen minutes kneeling in the middle of camp.  Bloody Raven was sitting on the large rock meditating.  Snow Wolf was still attempting to finish breakfast.  The others were in the caves following the orders they had received from the princess.

Growling Bear emerged from the main cave with Yellow Whore closely behind.  The warrior was still dressed in her buckskin top, pants, and thigh-high moccasins.  Her hair was pulled behind her ears by the bright green headband.  Yellow Whore had obviously been cleaned up by her mistress.  Her face had been washed and her hair had been brushed and braided into a long ponytail.  Her lips were darkened with berry juice.  Her nipples also appeared darkened by berries.  Her wrists and ankles were encased in the leather cuffs.  Her hands were at her side.  One chain ran behind her and another in front of her, securing her hands at her waist.  Her feet were still hobbled by a two-foot chain.  She still wore the intricate, beautiful rawhide necklace.  Growling Bear led the prisoner to a small tree at the edge of camp.  Yellow Whore was placed with her back to the tree.  She was bound to the tree with several turns of rope.

Bloody Raven glanced at the small cave and gave a stern command.  Crying Dove emerged from the cave carrying a large bag.  She stopped a few feet outside of the cave.  Her appearance was breath taking.  She was completely naked.   Her long black hair was pulled behind her ears by a bright red headband.  A large feather extended from the headband high above her head.  Her cheeks were streaked with five bright red stripes of war paint.  Her arms were ringed with five bright red rings of the paint.  Her bare breasts were accentuated by a bright red circle around each areola.  Her slender belly was painted with five bright red V's, that pointed to her black pubic patch.  Her legs were encircled by a bright red circle painted above each knee, below each knee, and around at each ankle.

She walked to me and pressed my shoulder.  I struggled with my chains to lie on my back.  Once I was on the ground, she straddled my head.  She unleashed a long stream of piss.  I tried to swallow the yellow nectar, but she was not aiming directly for my mouth.  Her golden discharge thoroughly soaked my face and hair.  She then reached down and grabbed my dick.  She pointed it at my chin and pressed her foot between my balls and my ass.  A steady blast of my piss splattered against my chin, spraying my chest and face.

She reached down and grabbed the chain that hung from my collar.  She gruffly pulled me to my feet.  I was led to the big tree at the edge of the clearing.  Bloody Raven walked to our position and handed Crying Dove the rawhide string with the key to the padlocks.  The five small brass padlocks were removed.  Crying Dove removed each cuff and finally unfastened the collar from my neck.  She laid all of the hardware in a pile to one side of me.  She next reached into the bag and removed a coil of rope.

She methodically wrapped the rope around my outstretched wrists.  She looped five turns, tightly pressing my palms together.  Then she wrapped the loose end of the rope inside of my wrists, cinching the outer loops more tightly into my flesh.  She threw the loose end of the rope over the tree limb and pulled my arms above my head.  She let the rope hang from the limb without tying it to anything.  

Snow Wolf walked to the young warrior and handed her a broomstick.  Crying Dove pulled another coil of rope from the bag.  She looked into my eyes.  Her own eyes were moist with tears.  She bent down and spread my legs about three feet apart.  Using the loose ends of the rope, she tied my ankles to the broomstick using several crossing loops.  The excess rope was wound around the broomstick until it met in the center.  There was still twenty feet of rope in a loop at the center of the stick.  She grabbed the long loop and pulled my legs behind me.  My weight was all hanging from my wrists as she secured the loop to the branch above my head.  My legs were bent at the knees with my shins about parallel to the ground.

The painted, nude Indian gazed apologetically into my eyes.  She leaned down and pulled another coil of rope from the bag.  She matched the ends together and grabbed the rope in the center.  She tightly tied a loop of rope around my scrotum.  She tied another loop, then another, and another.  She had tied six very tight loops around my sac, stretching my balls as far as she could.  The pain was incredible.  The two swollen orbs pushed against the bottom loop of rope.  Several feet of rope hung freely at each end and coiled on the ground.

The pain of hanging by my wrists with my feet behind me was hard to endure.  The pain of the tight bondage on my balls was much more difficult to bear.  But, the young warrior had been instructed to inflict much worse suffering on my defenseless body.  

She reached into the bag and pulled out a sack of flour.  The sack probably weighed two pounds.  She tied the loose ends of the rope around the mouth of the flour sack and gently let it sink toward the ground.  It stopped about a foot from the dirt.  She removed her hands from the sack.  The full weight of the flour was now being borne by my nuts.  The shriek of pain that escaped my lips pierced the still mountain air.  I moaned in agony, a moan that seemed like it would never end.

Despite my pain, I glanced to my right.  Yellow Whore was staring at me in utter horror.  Her eyes bulged in panic.  Tears were streaming down her face.  Her fists were clenched at her side.  Her entire body was trembling in anger.  Bound as she was, there was nothing she could do to help me.

Minutes passed.  The warriors silently watched my struggle against the pain.  The severity of the pain was ebbing, as my nuts became numb.  The battle in my soul had changed to enduring the constant throbbing of my wrists, the cramping in my calves, and the agony in my groin.  

About a half-hour had passed since my balls had been stretched by the sack of flour.  I had now settled into my pain.  I was only half-aware of events that were occurring around me.  I could hear Yellow Whore sobbing hysterically at my torture.  I could see Crying Dove's worried face as she struggled to obey her orders.  I could hear Growling Bear argue with Snow Wolf in Algonquian.

Growling Bear approached me.  She snarled something at Crying Dove.  She glanced at Bloody Raven, who nodded at her.  Growling Bear jabbered at me in Algonquian.  Her insults were reinforced by her swatting of my swollen, purple balls.  Each slap of her powerful hand was rewarded with a shriek of pain from my lips.  She slowly raised her hand to my face and lightly traced swirling patterns across my parched lips.  She smiled seductively as she pulled her hand from my face.  Her smile quickly turned sadistic as she swung her foot forward, violently kicking the bag of flour.  I screamed in indescribable pain for several minutes.  As my shriek of pain faded back into a dull moan, she let out a shrill war cry and raised her arms in the air.

I was left hanging by my wrists.  I reeked of stale piss and was groaning in despair.  Yellow Whore remained bound to her tree, with her eyes closed to avoid watching my torment.  She was silent.  She felt guilty for my treatment.  The three warriors were eating their breakfast that was now more of a brunch.  Snow Wolf ate casually and paid little attention to me.  Growling Bear was eating heartily and chattering boldly in Algonquian.  Crying Dove sullenly picked at her food.  Her appetite had been ruined by the trauma of the morning.  Bloody Raven had taken a small portion to the large rock.  She alternately observed my struggle, the white woman's reactions, and her warrior's actions.  She seemed very wary of Growling Bear and Crying Dove.  Their mutual anger was very near a boiling point.

Time crept slowly, as the mental torment grew increasingly worse.  The sun was high in the sky indicating the noontime hour.  My wrists were bleeding from the course hemp digging deeply into them.  My hands and fingers were red from the blood trapped in them.  My elbows and shoulders were strained from the constant pull of my own weight.  My knees were stiff and my calves cramped from being bent behind me.  I reeked of the stale urine that had dried in my hair, on my face, and over my chest.  My lips were parched and cracking from dehydration.

Bloody Raven approached me with a small pouch in her right hand.  She moved her left hand up to my right hand.  She felt my skin and caressed my fingers.  She placed her hand in my mine.  I squeezed lightly.  She moved her hand to my left hand.  She lightly caressed my flesh and let me lightly squeeze her hand.  My fingers tingled, but I still had warmth and feeling in them.  She smiled and let out a faint sigh of relief.

The lovely Blackfeet princess reached into the pouch.  She pulled several things from it.  She handed the pouch to Crying Dove.  In her hand were two very large hawk's feet and a small roll of rawhide string.  Each foot had three long, sharp talons on the top side and one smaller, but very sharp talon on the bottom side.  She handed one talon and the string to her young warrior.  "Be brave my noble pony rider," she whispered to me.  "The worst pain will not last for long."  

She took one talon in her right hand.  She grasped my right nipple in her left hand and pulled it away from my chest.  She dug one talon into my skin half an inch past my small areola.  The sharp pain caused me to gasp.  I felt a small trickle of blood winding down my chest.  She dug the middle talon into my outstretched flesh.  Once more I gasped, fighting the urge to scream.  Once more I felt a small stream of blood trickle over my breast and down my abdomen.  She gave me a second to absorb the pain.  She acted deliberately, not rushing each new torment.  She twisted the claw and pierced my pale flesh with the third talon.  She flashed a brief smile at me.  She reached for the other claw.   Crying Dove hesitantly placed it into her hand.  She positioned it under my nipple and slowly pierced my skin with each talon.  Each new invasion of my body was met with another gasp of pain.  The two claws now surrounded my nipple.  Bloody Raven reached for the rawhide string and brought it in front of me.  She wrapped the string around the two claws and bound them tightly together with several loops.  She tested her handiwork by grabbing the ends of the claws and pulling upward.  My flesh stretched to its limit.  Six tiny streams of blood wound their way down my side.

Crying Dove had tears streaming down her face.  My torture was truly taxing her emotions to their limit.  I glanced at Yellow Whore.  She had her eyes tightly closed.  Her face was streaked with tears.  Snow Wolf looked at the white prisoner.  She walked to her.  She pressed a knife at her chin.  The terrified woman opened her eyes and stared at me with a dazed glare.  Growling Wolf sat to one side.  She had a very content look on her face.  She was enjoying my suffering.  I had denied her possession of the beautiful blonde slave.  This was her revenge.

I had regained my focus.  My wrists hurt.  My fingers tingled.  My legs cramped.  My balls throbbed.  The hawk talons pierced my right breast with six points of fire.  I had endured much pain.  I had struggled for nearly four hours.  My struggles were not over.  My torment had just begun.

"Your bravery will live in the minds of your people."  The tall princess whispered to me.  "The yellow-haired bitch will tell of you when she is free."  A smile of admiration eased across her lips.  She reached into the pouch and retrieved another set of claws and string.  She methodically applied the claws, one talon at a time.  Six times she ripped my body.  Six times I gasped in pain.  Not once did I scream.  She tested the left claws as she had the right ones.  

The claws were bound together with a small gap between my nipple and the legs.  Bloody Raven now looped a long piece of rope under the legs and tied it together between my breasts.  She gently pulled on the rope.  The hemp pulled the claws outward, digging the talons deeper into my bleeding chest.  She threw the loose end of the rope over the tree limb.  She pulled the rope to a point where my nipples were pointing straight at the sky.  She tied the rope to another limb.  

As a small concession, she untied the rope that held my legs behind me.  My legs were still spread by the three-foot bar.  My toes barely touched the ground.  My body's weight still rested on my bleeding wrists.  The sack of flour still dangled from my nuts without touching the ground.  My breasts were stretched painfully upward with the twelve talons tearing my bloody skin.  I reeked of the stale mixture of urine.  My throat was inflamed from thirst.  My lips cracked from dryness.

Bloody Raven once more checked my hands and fingers for warmth and feeling.  Satisfied that my blood-flow was not stopped, she reached down and fondled my throbbing, squashed nuts.  A smile crossed her lips.  "You continue to suffer in brave silence.  You will not be seriously harmed.  You will endure great pain today.  Tomorrow you will recover with tender care."

In the distance I could hear Growling Bear cursing.  She chanted insults at me.  My eyes met hers.  I stared with icy resolve.  I would give my last ounce of strength to deny her the pleasure of my surrender.  Suddenly, my attention was averted.  Crying Dove had picked up a large stone and heaved it at Growling Bear.  The stone had hit the taunting warrior in the arm.  Furious, Growling Bear rushed toward the young beauty.  Bloody Raven stepped in front of the charging warrior.  Growling Bear slid to a halt.  She shouted angrily at the two squabbling women.  Both offenders bowed their heads in disgrace and headed in separate directions.

The Indians went about their individual chores.  Growling Bear was working in a small cave that I had not noticed before.  She frequently walked to Yellow Whore, who had collapsed from fatigue.  The ropes held her tightly to the tree trunk.  As her legs gave way, the bare skin on her back was being scratched by the tree bark.  Crying Dove was working in the small cave that had been our love nest on a few occasions.  She kept sticking her head out of the cave to see if I was in danger.  Snow Wolf was working in the cooking area.  She seemed bored with the entire affair.  Bloody Raven sat on the large rock meditating.  I think she was talking to the spirits.  Every once in a while she would saunter over to me.  She checked my hands and fingers for signs of proper blood flow.  She checked my balls as well.  At first, I thought she was teasing me.  I eventually figured out that she was worried about my bound parts being damaged from lack of blood.

The afternoon slowly faded into evening.  The four warriors ate their dinner.  Crying Dove still picked at her food and consumed very little.  She realized that it was her jealousy that had caused me to suffer so terribly.  She felt even guiltier knowing that I had not eaten and would not eat again until the morning.  Her eyes constantly glistened from the moisture that frequently became teardrops.  Growling Bear ate quickly.  She had stopped taunting me after the little rock throwing encounter.  She took her plate to Yellow Whore and fed the weary blonde scraps of food from her fingers.  The young white woman was very upset.  She nodded to me.  Growling Bear shook her head and spat in my direction.  Reluctantly, the blonde captive ate the only food she would receive this day.  Snow Wolf ate slowly.  She was now feeling very angry with her sisters for behaving so childishly.  Bloody Raven took her food back to the large rock.  She was still very disturbed about something.

After dinner, the warriors congregated around me.  Bloody Raven walked in front of me.  She checked my hands and fingers.  She untied the sack of flour from my nuts.  A large sigh of relief whistled across my cracked, bleeding lips.  The tight bondage still squeezed by balls unmercifully, but the removal of the heavy weight from the rope made a noticeable difference.  She felt my balls to make sure they were not in danger of permanent harm.  She checked the hawk claws that were tied to my breasts.  She examined the dried blood that clotted around each talon.  She stared deeply into my eyes.  I stared back.  She recognized my fierce determination to endure the torment.  A smile of pleasure graced her lips.

The Princess of the Blackfeet removed the bar that held my legs apart.  Then, she untied the rope that held my breasts upward to the sky.  She left it hanging from the tree limb.  Next, she untied the rope that held my arms above my head.  I lost my balance and stumbled forward into her.  She caught me and held me for the second it took to regain my balance.  I stood swaying on my wobbly legs.  I would not fall.  I would not give Growling Bear the pleasure of seeing me collapse.  Bloody Raven touched my shoulder and guided me to the ground.  I went to a kneeling position.  I leaned forward and meekly kissed her foot.  She pushed my shoulder and I rolled onto my back.

Snow Wolf brought a large mallet and some stakes to her leader.  Bloody Raven drove one stake into the ground a few feet beyond my head.  She stretched the rope that bound my hand and pulled my hands above my head.  She tied the rope to the stake.  She drove two stakes beyond my feet.  She stretched my legs toward the stakes.  I was now tightly spread-eagled on the ground.  My balls were still tightly wrapped in the rope.  She took the ends of the rope and looped them over the tree limb, pulling them until my balls were pulled painfully upward.  Then she pulled the rope that went between my breasts and the claws.  She tied it to the tree trunk with my flesh pulled several inches to the sky.

I turned my head to see Growling Bear untie yellow Whore from the tree.   The fragile blonde stumbled behind the warrior with her hands still bound to her sides and her feet hobbled by the short chain.  The milky-skinned beauty was covered with sweat, grime, and tears.  Growling Bear had a lustful look in her eyes.  Exhausted, or not, Yellow Whore was going to serve her mistress one last night.  They disappeared in the direction of the caves.

Bloody Raven was talking to Crying Dove.  The younger woman was once more upset.  She did not want me bound tonight.  She wanted to comfort me.  She wanted to tend my wounds and ease my pain.  Sobbing in frustration and remorse, the beautiful young warrior went into the main cave.

Bloody Raven stood towering above my head.  "Still you suffer bravely.  Your bravery is very pleasing to me.  If you can endure the night, I will release you in the morning."  She knelt beside me.  She checked my hands and fingers.  She checked my feet and toes.  The checked my balls.  She rose to her feet.  "Everything appears to be just comfy and cozy."  She flashed a sadistic smile.  She turned and entered the main cave.

The morning sun peeked through the trees as it finally crept above the mountainside.  My night had not yielded much sleep.  My arms and legs were stretched to the stakes.  The hard ground beneath me was strewn with little rocks and twigs.  My wrists were cut and burning from the vicious hemp.  My muscles ached from lack of movement.  My balls ached from the tight rope loops that stretched them brutally from my body.  My chest was filled with searing pain.  The stretching of my breasts generated a constant sharp pain.  The twelve talons sunk deep into my flesh, sending fiery impulses through my soul.  I had not eaten in more than a day.  My body begged for water.  My throat was parched.  My lips were cracked and bloody.

I had faded in and out of a mental fog all night.  I had not heard anyone or anything rustle throughout the entire night.  I was surprised to hear a noise.  Sitting on a log several feet away was Crying Dove.  She was naked, with her blanket wrapped around her shoulders.  She was sobbing.  Her punishment was directed at her emotions, and seemed to be exacting a very heavy toll.  I moaned and looked at her.  She started to move.  She looked across the camp and sat back on the log.  I turned my head.  Bloody Raven was sitting on the rock.  She shook her head.  Crying Dove sprung from the log and made a frenzied dash to the cooking area.  She quickly began preparing breakfast while her shoulders heaved in gigantic sobs.

Snow Wolf emerged from the main cave.  She was also naked.  She appeared annoyed at my presence.  She said something to Crying Dove and placed an arm around the youngster's shoulder.  Crying Dove forced a smile and seemed a bit happier the rest of the morning.  Snow Wolf sauntered mischievously toward the small cave where Growling Bear and Yellow Whore had spent the night by themselves.  She leapt through the entrance and bellowed a fierce war cry.  I heard two distinct yells.  Yellow Whore screamed like the frightened woman she was.  Growling Bear roared a retaliatory war whoop.  Snow Wolf jumped back as Growling Bear attacked to defend her home.  Snow Wolf collapsed in laughter as Growling Bear stopped and began grumbling expletives in Algonquian.  A few seconds later the two warriors sauntered naked across the camp with a trembling, nude white woman trailing behind.

Growling Bear said something to Crying Dove in a taunting manner.  Crying Dove retorted in a very hateful insult.  I do not know the Algonquian words for "fucking bitch," but they seemed appropriate.  Crying Dove bolted into the woods with Snow Wolf in pursuit.  Growling Bear grabbed Yellow Whore by the arm and led her to me.  A gruff shove on the blonde's shoulder coaxed her to kneel near me.  Growling Bear straddled my head and buried my face with her moist pussy.  I began licking and sucking in self-defense.  I was exhausted, dehydrated, and ravenously hungry.  I labored through the great adversity to please the angry warrior.  She deliberately attempted to fight her arousal.  It took a very long time to bring her to orgasm.  As the first tremors of her orgasmic earthquake traversed her body, she collapsed with her pussy smashing my head into the ground.  I desperately gasped for air as she relished every shudder that inched through her powerful body.

It seemed like hours before the satisfied Indian lifted herself from my face.  I gasped for air.  She squatted above my face and released a long, forceful stream of piss.  The foul, salty urine burned my raw lips.  Once more, I was soaked in the vile liquid.  As she stood, she turned toward me and spat on my nose.  My day and night of torture, coupled with her final efforts to humiliate me, appeared to soothe her anger.  Of course, her night in bed with Yellow Whore did not hurt my cause.  Growling Bear grabbed Yellow Whore by the arm.  The two began walking toward the stream.  

I realized I was alone, painfully bound, in the camp.  I looked around.  At first I saw no one.  Then, I slowly focused on the large rock.  Bloody Raven sat studying me intently.  She had been watching my every movement and hearing my every moan.  She smiled as my eyes met hers.  She placed her finger to her lips.  I turned my head to the sky and closed my eyes.  Within minutes I was asleep.  

Once more I faded into consciousness.  The women had returned from their baths in the stream.  The warriors were dressed in their tight-fitting buckskins.  Bloody Raven, Snow Wolf, and Growling Bear were sporting their war paint, quivers, and bows.  Snow Wolf was holding the leads of four ponies.  I glanced to the edge of the clearing.  Renegade was tethered next to the pony that Crying Dove had ridden days before.  

Yellow Whore was wearing a frilly ankle-length dress the Indians had stolen from settlers.  The small bumps her nipples made in the bodice revealed that she wore no underclothes.  Her hair was braided into a wide tail that fell down her back.  Her hands were tied in front of her.  Her feet were not bound. 

Bloody Raven grabbed the woman's arm and led her to me.  The Indian princess pointed at me.  "To grant you freedom, Pony Rider has submitted to very painful torture.  While you go free, he will be tortured for many days.  He has suffered his pain with dignity.  You shall tell your people of his bravery.  You shall live every day of your life being thankful that this brave man risked his life for your happiness."

Bloody Raven turned and whisked the woman to the ponies.  A blindfold was placed over her eyes.  She was helped onto the pony and forced to straddle the animal's back in a very unladylike manner.  Bloody Raven checked the revolver that rested in the holster of my gun belt that she wore around her waist.  The three warriors each mounted their ponies.  Each warrior had a rifle in a pouch around her pony's neck. Growling Bear took the tether that attached to Yellow Whore's pony.

Bloody Raven looked at me from her pony.  She turned to Crying Dove who stood near the fire pit.  Crying Dove was wearing her buckskins and my hat.  She looked at her leader.

Bloody Raven spoke to the young warrior in a stern voice.  Then she turned to me.  She spoke in English.  "She knows her duties.  You are to suffer greatly until we return."  She nodded to Yellow Whore.  The beleaguered white woman had tears streaming from under the blindfold and running down her cheeks.  Bloody Raven flashed me a smile.  She was still playing mind games with the captive. 

Bloody Raven turned her albino pony toward the trail.  With a strong command in Algonquian, she led the group from the camp.  I turned my head to watch them leave.  Still sprawled on the ground, stretched between the stakes, I turned to look at Crying Dove.  She watched the ponies disappear.  As soon as they were gone, she rushed to my side.




Chapter 8 - Tender Loving Care


Crying Dove frantically began untying the ropes that bound me helplessly on the ground.  She began by untying my balls.  When the final loop of rope was released, I sighed in relief.  The effects of twenty-four hours of tight bondage could not be foreseen.  Within seconds, the blood rushed into my sac.  My scrotum was raw from the course hemp ropes.  The reddened skin began to burn with an intolerable fury.  My balls had been numb.  They began to throb.  The throbbing became steadily worse until it was excruciating pain.  I groaned in agony.  The humbled warrior once more began to sob at the pain she caused me to suffer.

The next rope to be removed was the one that pulled my breasts upward.  She untied it from the tree.  Then she untied the loop that passed through the claws.  She pulled the rope gently through the claws.  Next she untied the rawhide string that held the claws together and gently pulled each talon from my flesh.  She was being careful in an effort to cause the least amount of pain she could.  As each talon pulled free, fresh blood began to trickle from the hole it had occupied.  Each wound burned like a hot poker was thrust inside of my body.  I gasped at each new flash of pain.

I expected her to untie my hands and feet.  Instead, she reached for a pot of pleasant smelling cream.  She dipped her fingers into the cream.  She rubbed large amounts of the cream across the talon wounds.  Within seconds the burning stopped.  The cream felt cool and soothing.  I squirmed and weakly thrust my hips upward.  She smiled.  She took another handful of the cream and massaged my inflamed scrotum.  The burning and itching in my sac quickly began to subside as the coolness of the cream soaked into my loins.

She then moved to my feet.  She untied each foot and rubbed the cream on each ankle to soothe the rope burns.  She then moved above my head and began untying my hands.  The ropes had cut deeply into my wrists, and dried blood and deep burns encircled them.  She rubbed the cream onto the cuts and burns.  I let her keep my arms above my head while she massaged my arms and shoulders.  It took every ounce of my strength to bring my arms to my sides.  She looked at my face and rubbed the cream on my parched lips.

She looked at me with a deeply pained expression.  She leaned forward and gently kissed my cheek.  She gracefully climbed to her feet and scurried to the main cave.  She returned with a bundle of blankets.  She rolled several blankets into a large bundle.  She lifted my shoulders and placed the roll behind my back.  She gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek and scurried to the cooking area.  She returned again, with a cup of hot broth.  She held the cup to my lips and let me sip the nourishing brew.  When I finished the cup, she scampered to the pot and filled the cup again.  I slowly ingested the second cup.

She looked at my wrists and rubbed the raw skin.  She glanced at my ankles and studied the rope burns that encircled them.  Her face was distorted by a scowl.  She knew I was very weak.  She knew that my wrists and ankles were raw and bloodied.  She knew my muscles were sore.  The idea of restraining me was very difficult for her.  But, she knew if I escaped that she would be in very big trouble.

She scurried to the cave.  She reluctantly approached me with the belt and cuffs.  I managed a weak smile.  The scowl slowly disappeared from her face.  I understood her need to be safe.  I understood her need to prevent my escape.  She laid the shackles on the ground.   She reached for my hand and helped me climb to my feet.  I groaned loudly as my muscles stretched.  She grimaced at my pain.

She smiled apologetically as she reached down and grabbed the belt.  She fastened it behind my back.  She buckled the cuffs loosely around my swollen bloody wrists.  She fastened the ankle cuffs loosely around each leg.  She fastened the collar around my neck.  Each buckle was secured with a tiny brass padlock.  We both knew the key to the locks was miles away, dangling from a string around Bloody Raven's neck.

Crying Dove did not fasten the chain to my collar.  She grabbed my left hand in her right.  She slowly led me to the trail and headed to the stream.  I had to stop several times to rest as my body was weakened from the extended bondage and torture.  She let me walk into the stream and sit down with my head and shoulders above the surface.  The cool water was refreshing.  My muscles and joints relaxed in the gentle current.  Just as importantly, the dried blood, grimy sweat, and stale piss were flushed from my skin and hair.  

I watched her on the shore.  She kept glancing at me.  She looked worried that I would be harmed.  Surely she did not think I was strong enough to escape.  She sat on the ground and removed her moccasins.  She unfastened the buckskin top from her breasts and laid it aside.  She untied the drawstring around her waist and began to peel the tight pants from her luscious legs.  She reached up and removed my hat from her head.  She pushed herself off of the ground and made a mad dash into the stream.

We sat together in the stream.  The cool water rushed over our bodies.  She had suffered great mental pain.  The stress of my torture weighed heavily on both her mind and her body.  She needed to relax and unwind as badly as I needed to rest and recover.  She grabbed my left arm in both hands and snuggled her cheek against it.  We enjoyed the closeness for a very long time.

I guess an hour or more had passed while we soaked in the stream.  She looked at me and asked a question.  She pantomimed putting food in her mouth.  I looked at her.  She had not eaten well as she agonized over my treatment.  I had sipped two cups of broth, but had not eaten solid food for a day and a half.  I nodded.  She climbed to her feet and helped me to mine.  We walked to the shore.  She put my hat upon her head.  She gathered her clothes and moccasins into a roll.  We headed up the trail to camp, pausing often for me to regain my strength.  I let her lead and enjoyed the sight of her magnificent body climbing the rugged path.

She led me to a log at the cooking area and help me ease my weary body onto it.  She laid her clothes on the ground and began gathering fruits and nuts from pots and sacks.  She filled a large bowl with the food.  She reached down and retrieved her clothes.  She nodded for me to follow and headed into the small cave we had enjoyed several times before.  

The cave was different.  She had worked in it yesterday while I was hanging from the tree.  The work had distracted her from thinking of my pain, and her guilt for causing it.  She had used the time to make several changes to the cave.  It now looked like a small home.  She had made a fire pit in the middle.  A large straw bed with blankets was in the rear of the cave.  The crates were all gone and the walls were lined with cookware and food.

She tossed her clothes in a heap against the wall.  She set the bowl of fruit at the side of the bed.  She turned to me and grabbed my hands.  She pulled my body against hers and planted a hungry kiss on my lips.  The kiss lasted for minutes, as neither of us wanted to end it.  Finally needing to breathe, we separated.  She gently eased me onto the blanket and gracefully lowered her body beside mine.

We snuggled our wet bodies together and snacked on the food.  She gently rubbed my shoulders and arms.  She tenderly kissed my chest, carefully avoiding the nasty claw holes in my breasts.  We enjoyed a long, relaxing rest.  I never remember falling to sleep.

I woke up some time later.  I realized she was no longer beside me.  I opened my eyes and searched the cave.  She was sitting on the ground with her legs crossed.  She looked like she was praying.  My rustling caught her attention.  She glanced at me and smiled.  She bounced to her feet and grabbed a small pot.  She brought it to me and held it under my nose.  It had a very pleasant smell.  It was the herb cream that she had rubbed on my wounds.  She eased her lovely body next to mine.

She dipped her fingers into the cream and gently rubbed the soothing mixture onto the talon wounds on my chest.  Her touch was so tender and loving.  She lifted the cuffs from my wrists and rubbed the soothing cream on the rope burns.  She spun her body around and rubbed the cream on my ankles.  Her butt was near my face.  She peeked behind her and giggled as she saw me looking.  She spread her legs apart and let me gaze at her gorgeous pussy.  She looked between her legs and was pleased to see my lustful gaze fixed directly on her womanhood.

She slowly turned around on all fours.  She slowly, sensually licked her lips as she studied my erect staff.  She slowly began to lick my throbbing cock.  She giggled as it bounced and bobbed at the touch of her tongue.  She continued to kiss and lick me as she applied some cream to my raw, swollen balls.  The touch of her fingers and the feel of the salve heightened my arousal.  She grinned at me as her eyes peered up from my groin.

She slowly spread her legs outside of mine.  She lowered her hips and placed her moist womanhood against my throbbing manhood.  She slowly writhed against my loins with my cock trapped between us.  She slowly lifted her hips.  She slowly rolled her pelvis until the tip of my cock was positioned at her pussy.  She very slowly eased herself onto my staff.  She gasped in pleasure as her hot, juicy hole swallowed my dick.  

She sat there without moving for a minute.  She cooed and moaned as she enjoyed the pleasure of having a man inside her for the very first time.  The mild pain of my male pole gently piercing her cherry was barely noticeable to her.  Her inexperience only caused her arousal to be greater.  Just the feeling of the cock inside of her threw her into a tremendous orgasm.  The contractions of her pussy walls teased my engorged organ.  The shuddering of her body trembled through my groin.  Her frantic breathing hissed in my ears.

She slowly recovered from her first orgasm.  She began to slowly rock on top of me.  I was too weak to thrust back at her with much force.  She was a warrior.  I was her slave.  She was on top.  She wanted to control the action.  Each time I tried to thrust, she moved away just enough to thwart my effort.  I stopped my efforts and smiled.  She smiled back at me.  She once more began to rock as she finally found a rhythm that she liked.  For several minutes she rocked up and down with the pace growing a little faster as her breathing became heavier.  Her breathing had turned to desperate gasps and labored pants.  Her hips rocked as fast as she could move them.  Her dripping pussy slid feverishly along my shaft.  Our bones clashed with jolting force each time she thrust downward.  Her vagina began to spasm and her silky walls clenched my cock.  Her orgasm triggered mine.  We twitched and trembled in orgasmic bliss.  Finally, she collapsed upon my chest.

We spent most of the day in the cave.  We took several naps, since we both had a very restless night.  We snuggled and kissed most of the time we were awake.  She wrapped her arms around me in giant hugs.  I could not hug her, as I was still shackled in the cuffs.  Three more times she mounted my face and "forced" me to lick her to orgasm.  Each of those three times, she followed her orgasm by fucking me until we came together.

My strength began to return as the day progressed.  The rest helped me a lot.  She fed me more broth and lots of fruit.  She periodically smeared more of the herb cream on my wounds.  My wrists, ankles, and balls were already healing nicely, although the scabs that formed from the rope burns were very tender.  The twelve talon wounds were also healing nicely.  They were no doubt going to leave some nasty scars.

Dinnertime was approaching, and Crying Dove had dressed and begun to prepare the food.  Her compatriots would be returning soon.  They would be tired and hungry from a long day's journey.  Crying Dove knew I was still very weak and could not cook the meal.  She let me sit on the log and perform a few tasks.  

Dinner was ready and the sun was deep in the western sky.  The young warrior looked concerned that the others had not returned.  A shrill noise pierced the calm of the twilight.  I jumped as I was startled by the suddenness of the call.  I quickly calmed as I saw an impish smile cross Crying Dove's lips.  The beautiful, young Indian answered with her own shrill screech.  Within minutes the sound of ponies hooves filled the camp.




Chapter 9 - The Black Warrior


When the warriors had left camp this morning, there had been four ponies in the procession.  As they entered camp, I was surprised to see the four ponies accompanied by a heavily burdened packhorse.  Crying Dove and I were both surprised when we realized that the fourth pony was carrying a passenger.  Yellow Whore was gone.  The pony should have been without a rider.  Sitting on the animal's back was a very dark-skinned black woman in a cotton dress.  She looked nervous, perhaps a little frightened.  She definitely was not panicked or hysterical like a captive would be.

The black woman surveyed the camp.  She did not see me at first.  Her eyes roamed the perimeter of the clearing.  She focused on the cave entrances.  She saw Crying Dove running to help with the horses.  Then she saw me sitting on the log.  Her eyes grew wide from shock.  Sitting at the side of the camp, she had spotted a naked white man wearing only leather cuffs, a wide belt, and a collar.  Her face quickly changed from shock to fear.  She did not trust the Indians, and she was very fearful of white men.  Then she gazed intently at the shackles.  Her fear was washed away by a giggle and followed by a disgusted chuckle.

Bloody Raven had dismounted her albino pony.  She approached the black woman and assisted her from the pony.  The Indian princess spoke to the woman in soothing tones.  I could not make out the words, but the woman seemed to relax.  Crying Dove ran to the woman with the little pot of herbal salve.  She pulled the back of the woman's dress apart and rubbed the salve on her.  A pained expression distorted the young warrior's face.  I did not see the wounds that were being treated.

Bloody Raven turned her head towards me and grunted.  I assumed she was summoning me.  I painfully rose to my feet and stiffly walked with a slight limp to the princess.  I gingerly knelt before the two women.  I leaned forward and passionately kissed the warrior's moccasins.  I gazed into her face.  She nodded toward the black woman.  I gingerly moved my stiff, aching body to the guest.  I leaned forward and kissed her dusty black shoes.  I finished kissing her shoes and looked up into the eyes of Bloody Raven.  She smiled at me in a satisfied manner.  She firmly touched my shoulder.  I knelt before them, wondering how the beautiful black woman came to be with the Indians.

I waited for instructions.  None were forthcoming.  I occupied myself by studying the newcomer.  The cotton dress and black shoes she wore were very plain and inexpensive.  She was medium height, probably five foot four inches.  Her build was very slender, yet muscular.  Her breasts were small.  Her long, kinky, black hair was tied with a small scarf into a ponytail that fell to the middle of her back.  Her eyes were shiny and black.  Her skin was very dark and very smooth.  She still seemed very uncomfortable having a naked white man shackled and kneeling at her feet.

Bloody Raven placed her hand on my chin and lifted my eyes to meet hers.  "Cum Eater was a Pony Rider.  He is now our slave.  He cooks our meals and cleans our caves.  He licks our pussies until we are satisfied.  If we let him have pleasure, he must eat his cum.  He has been with us only one week.  He was tortured yesterday and is rather weakened from the ordeal.  He will be expected to serve you, just as he serves us."

Bloody Raven turned to the warriors and spoke in Algonquian.  The warriors walked to the fire pit and sat down.  Bloody Raven motioned for the black woman to sit near them.  She turned to me.  "Crying Dove has taken good care of you.  You have healed quickly.  You are not just brave; you are sturdy and strong.  You will now serve dinner."

I leaned forward and kissed her moccasins.  I rose with some difficulty, as my muscles were still stiff and weak.  I served each person, starting with Bloody Raven, then the black woman, Growling Bear, Snow Wolf, and Crying Dove.  I knelt near them waiting for more instructions.  I arose a few times to refill a plate or cup.  When dinner ended I cleaned the mess and ate my customary scraps.  Crying Dove joined me to wash the plates and put away the utensils.  After the cleaning was done, she led me to the fire.

Bloody Raven was talking in English to the black woman.  Snow Wolf and Growling Bear were talking Algonquian.  Crying Dove had me kneel between the princess and the guest.  The young warrior then joined the others and began to chatter in an excited manner.  No doubt, they were recounting the events of the day.

Bloody Raven began speaking to the guest and me.  "We rode to a point one mile from Fort Bridger.  We took the white woman from her pony.  We left her hands tied in front of her.  Her blindfold was removed and put around her mouth as a gag.  She could make noises, but not very loud.  We placed her on the trail to the fort.  Even the weak white bitch could walk a mile.  Then we started back to camp."

"We headed along the river.  As we approached the area known as Three Crossings we heard a woman screaming and a girl crying.  We rode quickly to the noises and looked onto the trail.  A wagon was stopped on the trail.  A nasty white man had Sally tied to the wagon and was beating this girl with a whip.  The man's wife watched with no emotion.  The man's young girl was crying for him to stop.  We rode at them with rifles pointed."

"We freed Sally from the wagon.  We tied the man and his wife to the side of the wagon.  Their chests were against the wood and their backs faced us.  We tore the man's shirt from him and pulled the woman's dress to her waist.  We made him watch as I whipped his wife with ten lashes.  Her smooth white skin became red and bloody.  I did not let the lash bite deep enough to scar her.  We made her watch as I gave him twenty lashes.  I hit him very hard.  The bastard deserves to be scarred.  Then I let Sally give him ten more lashes."

"We tied the girl to the wagon.  Then we loaded food and supplies on their packhorse.  Sally agreed to come with us and be free.  We left the whites tied to the wagon.  Other whites will rescue them.  Sally will stay with us."

Bloody Raven was thirsty from her long story.  She sipped her cup of herb tea.  "Would you like to add anything?"  She looked at Sally.

The black woman appeared nervous.  "Master James was angry.  I didn't get the wagon through the river to his likin'.  He whipped me three times before they showed up."  A tear formed in the corner of her eye.  "I'm not hurt bad.  I've been whipped much worse.  But, it felt good to whip that bastard."  She looked at me.  "You ever whip any of your slaves?"

I looked at Bloody Raven for permission to answer.  She spoke.  "He may not speak without permission," she said to the guest.  She turned to me and spoke.  "You may answer."

"I'm from Ohio.  We were poor farmers.  I don't believe in slavery.  It is cruel and evil."  A lump began to form in my throat as I spoke with passion against the brutality that I abhorred.

The black woman looked at me.  "Then why are you their slave?"

I looked at Bloody Raven.  I had no logical answer for the woman.

"The white man steals Blackfeet land."  The princess began.  "The long knives rape us and kill our men and children.  Cum Eater is white.  He must be our slave or die."

"I didn't like being a slave."  Sally said with a tremble in her voice.  "I'm not sure I want to see anyone else be one either, even Master James."

"Cum Eater is not like most white men."  Bloody Raven said in a distant tone.  "He cares for women.  He was tortured to let Yellow Whore go free.  He is brave, and he has a good heart.  He has changed my heart toward white men.  I still wish to kill the long knives.  But, now I know that there are good ones as well."

Bloody Raven stood and spoke in Algonquian.  The others turned and looked at her.  Growling Bear spoke.  Snow Wolf said something in an agreeable tone.  Bloody Raven spoke again.  The others all nodded.

"Sally, it is our custom to give newcomers a Blackfeet name."  Bloody Raven smiled.  "Since you are now a member of our tribe, we wish to give you your name.  We will call you Black Deer That Runs Like The Wind.  But, for short we will call you Black Deer."

Sally smiled.  She was very pleased with the name.  "I am happy to be one of your tribe."

"Tomorrow we will dress you like a Blackfeet.  We will teach you to ride a pony and shoot the bow."  Bloody Raven told her.  "But, now you will enjoy our slave.  His tongue and his body are yours."

"He is injured.  I don't want to hurt him."  She said in protest.

"He is sore.  He is tired.  His injuries are mild."  Bloody Raven replied calmly.  Then she flashed a wicked smile and glanced at Crying Dove.  "He survived a day with Crying Dove, I see no reason he cannot serve you."

"The only man I've ever been with was Master James.  He raped me several times."  The black woman stuttered.  She seemed embarrassed by her confession.

"I too have been raped, by the long knives."  Bloody Raven told her.  "I find great comfort in making white men eat my pussy.  I get great revenge by mounting them and fucking them."  She placed her arm on Black Deer's shoulder.  "If you are not ready, you do not have to do anything."

"Maybe I should."  Black Deer said as gazed aimlessly toward the sky.  "I will get my revenge on Cum Eater."

"How do you want him?"  Bloody Raven asked her matter-of-factly.  The black warrior looked befuddled by the question.  "Staked out on the ground?  Hands behind his back?  Legs tied to a pole?"

"I don't know."  The nervous Negro replied.  "I've never raped a man before.  What do you suggest?"

"I prefer them staked out on the ground.  I sit on their face and smother them until they make me cum."  Bloody Raven was beginning to breathe heavy just by talking about it.  "Then, if I am pleased, I fuck him.  If I am not pleased, I cut his balls off."

Black Deer started rubbing her pussy.  "I'm dripping wet just thinking about it."

Bloody Raven stood.  She shouted a few orders in Algonquian.  Crying Dove gave her a dumbfounded look and began trembling in anger.  Growling Bear smiled wickedly and jumped to her feet.  She scampered to a cave and returned with several long ropes.  Bloody Raven grunted at me.  I rose to my feet and stood as she unlocked my cuffs and removed them.  She grunted again and nodded toward the stakes.  I reluctantly limped to the stakes.  Growling Bear pushed me to the ground, and I landed with a thud.  She grabbed my wrists and pulled them in front of me.  She wrapped a few loops very tightly around my wrists and tied the rope.  She looped the rope tightly between my palms, then looped it around my wrists again.  She tied the ends in several knots.  I felt the ropes tearing open the scabs from my earlier bondage.  She pulled my hands above my head and fastened the rope to the stake that remained from this morning.  She then moved to my legs.  She pulled hard on my ankles to stretch me into a painful position.  Then she tightly wrapped each ankle in several loops.  She pulled the ropes very hard and tied my legs to the stakes.

Bloody Raven looked at the ropes.  She shook her head.  "You have made a nasty enemy.  Crying Dove would have been much gentler and you would not be stretched so tightly.  Growling Bear binds you tightly and causes you more discomfort."  She knelt down and felt my hands.  She wiped her finger through a small stream of blood on my wrists.  She put the finger to her mouth and sucked noisily until the blood was gone.  "Very tasty!  Perhaps we should spill your blood more often."  She paused.  "If you please your new mistress, you will sleep in the cave.  If you do not please her, you will sleep here with your balls pulled to the tree limb."

I gazed at Black Deer.  She was gingerly pulling the dress from her mangled back.  She lowered the dress to the ground and stepped out of the pile of cotton.  She bent down and picked up the dress.  She tossed it into the fire with a huge smile on her face.  "This is the white woman's clothes.  I was born in Africa.  I was captured as a small girl.  I will wear the clothes of a warrior, not a slave."

She turned her back to me.  "She the scars.  They are many.  See the new cuts.  They are from a white man.  You will pay for his evil."

The naked Negro stood over me.  She was slender and muscular, yet very well shaped.  Her breasts were small, but firm.  Her waist was very small.  Her butt and legs were beautiful.  The most noticeable feature at this point was her eyes, which glistened with rage.

She straddled my head and lowered herself over my face.  Her pubic hair was very wiry.  She had a smell of stale sweat and horse from her long day's journey.  Her pussy was already very wet with arousal.  She began to slide her slit along my mouth.  My tongue began to lick her moist lips.  I tickled her slit with all of my strength.  I probed with my tongue until I felt her hole.  I plunged my tongue inside her.  She gasped in delight.  She began to thrust very forcefully against my face, driving my head into the dirt.  The more excited she became, the harder she fucked my face.  I struggled through my exhaustion and the lack of air.  Several minutes passed as she pounded my head into the ground and my nose into her flesh.  With a loud scream and a long gasp, her thighs squeezed my head, and she trembled in orgasmic convulsions.

Her orgasm finally subsided as she continued to smother me in her pussy.  She straightened her back and covered my face completely.  I began to squirm in panic.  I needed air.  I felt dizzy and sick at my stomach.  I gasped for the precious oxygen.  I tried to thrust upward to force her from my face.  The ropes held me tight and cut deeper into my wrists and ankles.  The harder I struggled, the wetter she became.  To my surprise, the thrill of my struggling sent her into another small orgasm.  The shock of her orgasm caused her to lift herself upward.  I could breathe.  The air that entered my lungs was hot and smelled of juicy pussy.  I gasped for all of it I could inhale.

Black Deer struggled to lift her exhausted body from my face.  She sat on my chest and glared into my face.  Her body was venting years of suppressed rage.  She trembled as her emotions controlled her being.  Bloody Raven watched very carefully.  She wanted her slave to please the new warrior.  She wanted her new warrior to make strides toward a spiritual healing.  But, she did not want her slave damaged.

"I don't want his filthy cock in me!"  Black Deer gasped at her Indian friend.  "I want to torture him.  I want to make him scream.  I want him to beg for mercy."

Growling Bear listened to the black woman's ranting.  She did not understand English.  But, she understood the emotion, the rage, and the revenge in her new companion's voice.  She grabbed another rope and moved her hands to the middle of the long strand.  She knelt between my legs and grabbed my balls.  She began to tie the rope tightly around my scrotum.  She tied off each loop very tightly as she stretched my balls as far as they would stretch.  The seventh loop of rope was tied very tightly against my purple, swollen balls.  She then took the loose ends and threw them over the tree limb that extended above my body.  She did not tie the ends to anything.  She tossed another coil of rope to Black Deer, who had spun around on my chest, placing her ass in front of my nose.  Growling Bear made a whipping motion.  Black Deer smiled.

"Lick my ass!"  The angry Negro shouted at me.  "Lick my shit you cum sucking white bastard!"  

Black Deer tied a knot in the end of the rope and began whipping my balls with it.  Growling Bear was pulling up and down on the ropes, violently yanking my nuts to the sky, then dropping them.  The effect was three distinct forms of pain on my battered balls.  They were squeezed by the bondage, pulled by Growling Bear, and beaten by Black Deer.  I screamed and moaned with my face buried in the sweaty black crack of the former slave's ass.  The beating went for about ten minutes as Black Deer grew more furious and frenzied.  Finally, with a final flurry of lashes to my pain-racked manhood, she collapsed on my chest.

Bloody Raven spoke in Algonquian.  Growling Bear released the ropes and pulled them from the tree limb.  My nuts were still stretched severely by the tight loops of rope.  The pain was shooting through my abdomen so fiercely I cannot describe it.  Bloody Raven spoke again.  Growling Bear shouted angrily at her leader and spat a big glob of saliva in my face.  Bloody Raven scolded her for several seconds and barked orders at her.  

Growling Bear knelt between my legs.  She began to lick my cock.  She spent several minutes sucking and licking my engorged staff.  Bloody Raven watched her with an angry stare.  After several more minutes, I tensed and shot several big loads of cum deep into the warrior's mouth.  She swallowed every drop.

She climbed from between my legs and gave a hateful stare at Bloody Raven.  Bloody Raven lunged at her and drove her into the ground.  She pulled her knife from its sheath and held it against Growling Bear's throat.  The angry warrior was pinned to the ground by the mighty princess.  Bloody Raven began a stern lecture in Algonquian.  I did not understand the words, but it was obvious that the Blackfeet warrior princess had finally had her fill of the jealous bickering between her warriors.  I watched intently.  After a few minutes, Growling Bear nodded.  Several more times the trapped warrior nodded to her leader, as the lecture became more forceful.  Finally Growling Bear burst into tears.  She nodded several times.

Bloody Raven withdrew her knife from her warrior's throat and placed it in its sheath.  She pushed herself off of the sobbing warrior.  She reached out her hand and pulled Growling Bear to her feet.  Growling Bear hung her head and walked to the cooking area where Crying Dove was sitting on the log bawling.  They exchanged soft words.  They hugged fiercely.  After several minutes they broke the exchange and walked hand-in-hand to the fire pit.

In the meantime, Black Deer still lay sprawled across my chest.  She was sobbing from her highly emotional release.  Bloody Raven gently grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet.  They sat on the ground very near my head.

"You have many good instincts."  Bloody Raven said softly.  "A woman should dominate men.  You showed great passion as you punished him.  This will help you heal much faster."

"I can't believe I beat him like that.  I almost smothered him.  I almost broke his balls."  Black Deer was trembling from an avalanche of conflicting emotions.  "I'm sorry I hurt him.  I didn't mean to hit him that hard."

"It is alright."  Bloody Raven calmly said in her soothing voice.  "He is here to serve us.  Your need was to punish a white man.  It is his duty to let you punish him."  She kissed the Negro warrior on the cheek.  "If you are alright, I must talk to my slave."

My nuts were throbbing from the beating and the ropes that still squeezed and stretched them without mercy.  My arms and legs were stretched beyond their normal place.  My body still hurt from yesterday.  Now, it had been tortured even further.

Bloody Raven knelt by my head.  "Are you alright?"  I nodded as I battled the lingering pains that ravaged my body.  "You will be released soon.  Earlier I told Crying Dove that her jealousy toward you was wrong.  You belong to all of us.  She is young.  She will learn to share.  I told Growling Bear that her anger was wicked.  I told her that I would banish her from the tribe if she did not make up with Crying Dove.  You have helped Black Deer begin to heal from her slavery.  I will let you have a reward.  You may sleep with Crying Dove tonight."

Growling Bear and Black Deer were walking together.  They were holding hands and headed into a small cave.  Snow Wolf was gathering things together and carrying them to the main cave.  Crying Wolf began to untie me from the stakes.  She was carrying the pot of herbal salve.  She helped me to my feet.  She grabbed my hand and led me to her cave.  

I was not interested in sex.  The day had been filled with sexual activity.  I was in great pain.  I was terribly tired.  I wanted a drink.  I wanted to piss.  And, I wanted to go to sleep.  The young warrior eased me onto her blanket.  She rubbed the salve onto my chest.  She applied a generous heap to my wrists and ankles.  She rubbed some on my balls.  She set the bowl on the ground.  She lay next to me.  She placed her arm on my chest.  Within minutes we were fast asleep.




Chapter 9 - The Brave Pony Rider 


I awoke to find myself shivering.  Crying Dove had rolled away from me, taking the blanket with her.  I quickly realized that sharing the blanket would be impossible.  I looked around for something else.  I saw nothing that looked warm.  I curled into a ball and gazed outside the cave.  

The moon was bright, lighting the camp with its mysterious beams.  That is when it hit me.  This was a chance to escape.

I rolled away from the young warrior that slept soundly next to me.  I started to push myself off of the ground.  It took every bit of control I had not to scream.  Every muscle and every joint in my body hurt.  The pain was almost unbearable.  I gritted my teeth and forced myself to a standing position.  I quietly sneaked to the edge of the cave.  I glanced into the clearing.  It seemed empty.

I looked at the ponies.  Renegade was tethered to a tree next to the two packhorses.  I could never get his reigns and saddle on him without waking someone.  The sounds of his hooves would be a liability.  It would take two days to get to a stationhouse on foot.  But, it seemed the only logical choice.

I could not sneak through the brush naked.  I needed clothes to protect me from the branches.  I needed my boots to protect my feet.  I needed clothes to keep from freezing at night.  My clothes were just inside the main cave.  I would have to sneak in and fetch them.  The bright moonlight was my ally.  I crept into the cave.  I gently grabbed my clothes and silently crept into the clearing.  I started down the trail for several yards.  

I was far enough from camp to get dressed without being too noisy.  I put on my shirt and pants.  I sat down and pulled my socks and boots onto my feet.  I was fully dressed, except for my rawhide hat.  I guess Crying Dove could have it as a keepsake.  I was unarmed.  I was on foot.  But, I was free.

I decided to get off of the trail.  It would be the first place the Indians would look for me.  I headed east through the brush.  I would try to get to Sweetwater Station.  I had to be careful of the Indians hearing me.  I also had to be careful to keep my bearings.  The sun was not up yet.  I noted the moon.  It would be my guide for at least two more hours.

The ground was very hard and rough.  The underbrush was thick and ripped at my rawhide clothing.  Every step hurt my legs as I tried to recover from the brutal bondage of the past two days.  My arms and shoulders hurt, making it difficult to use them for balance or for clearing my path.  The worst pain was in my balls.  They had been squeezed, stretched, and beaten.  They were bruised and swollen.  Every step sent pain shooting through my groin and into my gut.  If I wanted to be free, I would just have to bear it.

The Indians never woke up before the sunlight lit the clearing.  I had a two-hour head start.  I made every effort to not leave signs of my progress.  If I moved quickly and remained hidden, they would not find me.  They were excellent hunters and trackers.  But, I had the advantage.  They were looking for the needle in the haystack.  If I didn't give them an easy trail, they would not catch me.

My training as a rider was helping me.  I was used to traveling with little food or water.  I was fairly rugged and strong.  Despite the effects of my torture, I was able to endure the quick pace of my flight.  The sun had risen into the sky.  It was close to noon.  I had heard no sounds of the warriors pursuing me.  I found a stream.  I splashed water in my face.  I gulped the liquid refreshment until I was full.  I had to be careful not to make myself sick from drinking too much water.

The mountains seemed far away.  The dense foliage slowed my progress considerably.  I took a few minutes to rest and survey my location.  The Indians had ridden for several hours when they kidnapped me.  We could be twenty to twenty-five miles from Devil's Gate.  That would mean almost forty miles to Sweetwater Crossing.  At my slow pace, on foot through the dense brush, I was probably doing two miles an hour.  I could make it to Sweetwater before noon tomorrow, if I did not get lost.  Or, I didn't get captured.

I guessed that this tiny stream was Devil's Creek.  If I were correct, it would lead me to Devil's Gate.  The sooner I get to a station, the sooner I will be safe.  The stream probably crosses several trails.  I would follow the stream and be careful of clearings and paths.

I followed the stream for about three hours.  I never crossed a trail.  I was trudging through the thick underbrush.  I heard a sound.  It sounded like a horse moving on a trail.  It was more than one horse.  I ducked behind a big tree and watched the woods ahead of me.  The noises became louder.  I saw two figures moving in front of me by several hundred yards.  I eyed them carefully.  

It was Growling Bear and Snow Wolf on their ponies.  They stopped.  I was afraid they had heard my heart pounding.  Snow Wolf was grumbling at Growling Bear.  She pointed to the sun.  She rubbed her belly.  Growling Bear responded by rubbing her own belly.  They turned their ponies around and headed back up the trail.

I glued my chest to the tree.  If they were turning back, I would be clear.  I would wait about half an hour.  I needed the rest.  If they returned to their caves, they would never catch me tomorrow.  I waited for them to leave.  When I was sure they were gone, I sat down and rested.

I finally decided that it was safe to move.  I carefully worked my way across the trail.  I was back in the woods, moving along the banks of the stream.  After about one more hour, I decided it was safe to move out of the woods.  The bank of the stream provided for a much quicker pace.  I traveled another two hours and decided to camp for the night.  I found a nice, well-hidden spot in the woods.  I was about one hundred yards from the bank.  I curled up under a big bush.  No one would find me here unless they stepped on me.

The morning light peeped through the holes in the trees.  I awoke after a good night's sleep.  My muscles hurt more today than they did yesterday.  I had about five hours of travel if I was lucky.  I pulled myself off of the ground.  I carefully made my way to the bank.  I checked the clearing very carefully.  It seemed clear.  I splashed some water on my face.  I gulped several drinks.  I was off.

The morning was uneventful.  A few deer startled me.  A couple of rabbits jumped in front of me.  Each time something moved, I thought the warriors had caught me.  Several hours later, I saw the trail.  Smoke was billowing from the chimney of the stationhouse.  I paused at the edge of the trail.  The corral was full of horses.  Everything looked fine.  There was no sign of the warriors.  I crossed the trail and walked to the door. 

The stationmaster greeted me at the door with a Spencer Carbine pointed at my face.  He knew his predecessor had been brutally tortured and murdered.  He was determined to live, or at least give one hell of a fight.

"I'm Andrew Thomas."  I gasped through my parched lips.

"So?"  He asked suspiciously.

"I'm the Rider that was kidnapped by the Indians."  I replied.

"My God!"  He shrieked.  "You're alive?  We all thought they'd sliced you up and ate you."

"Well, I can't say they treated me gently, but they didn't butcher me like they did poor old Charlie."  I replied.

"You saw him?"  He gasped in disbelief.  "I heard they tortured the old bastard."

"Yeah!  He died an awfully slow and painful death."  I answered.  "Say, I haven't eaten in two days.  You got any food left."

"Hell, I'll fix you a feast if ya'd like."  He mumbled to himself as he turned to the kitchen.  "By God!  He's a friggin' hero."

The new stationmaster, Bill was his name, fed me until I was ready to pop.  He gave me several cups of whiskey.  We decided I should rest there until tomorrow.  We'd send word ahead with the eastbound Rider.  I'd ride the trail tomorrow to Deer Creek.  The next day I'd ride into Fort Laramie.  A few hours later, the other Rider came into the post.  Bill made him wait and gave him the message.  He wouldn't ride on until he had talked to me.

"Andrew!  Ya' old bandit!  Ya' had us plum scarred to death!"  The Rider yelled when he saw me.

"Wally, you little rat!  I wasn't going to let you get rid of me that easy."  I hollered back at him.

"Great to see ya' alive!  Ya' alright?  Ya' still got all your hair?"  He asked in disbelief that I was alive.

"Everything but the mustache."  I replied, running my hand through the tangled mess of long brown hair.  Then I remembered my balls had been shaved.  They did not need to know about that.

"Catch ya' at Laramie."  He yelled as he ran out the door.

Bill helped me clean up for bed.  He gasped at the rope burns and cuts on my wrists.  He looked at the scabs on my chest.  Twelve talon holes left large welts and deep wounds.

"Holy Shit!"  He proclaimed.  "You're goin' to have nasty scars from those.  Musta' hurt like Hell."

"Yeah, but I'd rather not talk about it."  I grumbled.

"Can't blame ya' fer that."  He replied.

We drank another whiskey and talked about our lives.  I excused myself.  I hit the spare bunk.  Within minutes, I was oblivious to the world.

The ride to Deer Creek was peaceful.  I rode at a slow pace.  It felt good to be in the saddle again.  I did have problems with my legs being sore.  The hardest thing to endure was my balls bouncing against the hard leather.  I was still bruised and very sore from the abuse I had suffered.  My suffering was increased by the infernal itching caused by the stubble of my pubic hair growing.  Each stationmaster was waiting for me as I rode into his dominion.  Each one of them wanted me to stop, talk, and drink.  I spent a few minutes each place and mounted my horse.  I reached Deer Creek before the eastbound Rider.  

I spent the night at Deer Creek.  The stationmaster kept asking me questions about the Indians.  He kept trying to get me to confirm his notions about them.  I tried to avoid the subject.  I think I pissed him off.  But, I just did not want to talk about it.  I left Deer Creek early the next morning.

The long trip to Fort Laramie would take all day.  I briefly talked to each stationmaster along the way.  In between the stations, I could do nothing but think of the past week.  Bloody Raven was tall, mysterious, forceful, angry, and beautiful.  Crying Dove was short, loving, naive, gentle, and beautiful.  Growling Bear and Snow Wolf each were beautiful, but I had not grown attached to either of them.  The thought of Black Deer brought a smile to my face.  I hoped her freedom among the Blackfeet would bring her happiness.  A slave that suffered under a brutal master deserved a better fate.  Then, my thoughts would drift to Andrea.  My redheaded beauty would no doubt be waiting for me.

The sun was far into the western sky when I rounded the final turn.  Fort Laramie was still a mile ahead.  I could see the fort as a giant silhouette against the frontier.  Within minutes, a column of cavalry was headed toward me.  As they drew near, they separated.  The officer in the lead approached me and saluted.  It was Captain William Wallace.  We had been friends since I joined the Riders.

"Mr. Thomas, we are you honor guard."  He smiled.  "It would be our pleasure to escort you into the fort."

"I've done nothing to deserve an honor guard, Bill."  I told him.

"Hell, Andy, you've escaped from the Indians.  You defied death.  You're a God Damned hero!"  He chuckled.

He swung his horse beside mine.  We rode through the rows of soldiers.  The squad fell in double file ranks behind us.  We rode through the gates of the fort.  The band was playing "Yankee Doodle" and everyone was out in the commons screaming and cheering.  I thought to myself how silly this was.  If they only knew how I spent my time, they would probably jeer and throw stones.

Colonel Hood stood in front of his office dressed in his best dress uniform.  Major Kelly, Andrea's father stood next to him.  Andrea was clinging to her father's arm.  As soon as she saw me riding toward them, she broke into a dead run.  I dismounted my horse, tossing the reigns to the captain.  I turned around just in time to be met chest to chest by my delirious lover.  She threw her arms around me and kissed me passionately.  She squeezed so hard that her large breasts pressed against my chest.  The twelve talon wounds began to jab me with pain.  She felt my reaction and eased her grip.

"Oh, Andrew, you're hurt!"  She screamed as tears formed in her eyes.  "Those filthy savages have hurt you.  Oh, God!"

"I'm alright."  I softly whispered in a reassuring tone.  "They're just little wounds.  I'll be fine."

She collapsed into my arms as her sobs shook both of our bodies.  It took several minutes to calm her down.  Everyone was cheering.  The colonel stood patiently at attention.  When Andrea finally regained a little control, the colonel marched to me.

"Mr. Thomas, your bravery is a grand example of the American spirit."  He sounded more like a politician than a soldier.  "I would be honored if you would join my staff for dinner."

I accepted his invitation.  I excused myself to spend some time alone with Andrea and her father.  We entered their apartment in the officer's quarters.  Once Andrea quit asking if they had hurt me, we had a relaxing conversation.

Major Kelly took me to the fort's general store.  He and Andrea helped me pick out a nice set of clothes to wear to the officer's reception.  The evening flew by with a flurry of conversations.  Everyone wanted to know the details.  I told them what I thought they needed to know.  I was captured by four renegade Blackfeet women.  They were not squaws.  They were very angry warriors.  Old Charlie was an example of how cruel and angry they could be.  They wanted revenge for the white man stealing their hunting grounds.  They were angry that soldiers had raped some of them many years ago.  They bound me in very painful positions and tortured me several times.  Of course, I left out all of the sexual encounters.  I also never hinted that I cared deeply for my captors.




Chapter 10 - The Final Surrender


The Pony Express gave me a two-week paid vacation to allow my body to recover from the torture I had endured.  They also gave me a bonus of one month's pay for bravery and good publicity.  I put the money with my other savings to some day buy our farm.

I spent the most of the two weeks with Andrea.  She talked about our marriage.  She pondered our future.  How many children would we have?  What would they look like?  Where would we buy our farm?  I listened.  I sometimes would join the discussion.  But, I did not feel the closeness to her that had once stirred the very depths of my soul.  I found myself dreaming of the moments spent with one of the warriors smothering my face with their black-bushed pussies.

The next week, I started riding again.  It felt good to be back in the route, although the bristly stubble on my balls was still driving me crazy.  I rode the three legs to Fort Bridger, then rode them back to Fort Laramie.  I had a new hat that looked just like the old one.  The Pony Express had given me a new Colt, a gun belt, a Bowie knife, and a knife sheath.  The rifles, pistol, horses, and saddle that had been stolen by the Blackfeet had all belonged to the company.

The first week in the saddle had come and gone.  I was in the second week of riding the route.  Tuesday was like any other day.  I left Deer Creek for the run to St. Mary's Station.  I was half way between Sweetwater Crossing and Devil's Gate.  The trail was flat and wide.  There was a plateau on the north side of the trail.  I broke out of the wooded trail and galloped across the large open plain.  I looked to my left and saw prairie grass.  I looked to my right.  I pulled on the reigns and bellowed for my horse to stop.  I sat atop my bronco and stared across the wide expanse to the top of the plateau.

Five shadowy figures sat on horseback.  They were too far away to see their faces.  One of the five was wearing a hat.  The leader of the five raised a spear into the air.  The other four held their rifles above their heads.  They were not poised for an attack.  They were greeting another warrior.  I lifted my hat from my head.  I waved a hearty salute to the Blackfeet warriors.  They lowered their weapons and stood watching me.

I replaced my hat on my head.  I lowered myself in the saddle.  I dug my spurs into my panting steed.  I crossed the vast opening at full gallop.  As I entered the woods at the edge of the clearing I heard a loud chorus of war whoops.  I stopped my horse and turned my head.  The warriors were cheering me onward.  I turned away and galloped toward Devil's Gate.

I said nothing to anyone else about the encounter.  No one else ever mentioned seeing the Indians.  They were excellent hunters and trackers.  They obviously knew my schedule and were making a point of greeting me.  I spent most of my time thinking about the five brave Indians.  They were five brave women living the lives of warriors in a man's world.  Five women who were cruel by necessity, yet each of them had a very tender, nurturing side. 

Friday saw me returning through Devil's Gate.  As I headed for Sweetwater Crossing my entire body tensed.  Would they be there?  Would they greet me?  Would they be waiting to capture me again?  I headed out of the woods into the clearing.  I glanced to the North.

The five silhouettes on horseback were poised watching the trail.  They saluted with their weapons.  I saluted with a wave of my hat.  The chants and cheers rang in my ears as I rode into the horizon.

My mind raced feverishly as I rode into Deer Creek.  I was not good company for the stationmaster.  I was preoccupied in my dream world.  I could not sleep that night.  I continued to daydream Saturday the entire distance to Fort Laramie.

I dismounted.  I let the stable master tend the horse.  I entered the Pony Express station.  The district supervisor was sitting at his desk.  I told him quietly that I could not ride anymore.  He nodded.

"Andy, you were a great Rider.  You were brave, strong, and dependable.  I understand your problem.  We can cover your route.  Good luck boy."

He shook my hand.  I turned in my pistol and knife.  He handed me my final pay.  I walked out of the office and went to see Andrea.

It was difficult to say goodbye.  She cried.  She begged me not to leave.  She could not understand.  She was a beautiful and wonderful woman.  She deserved a husband who loved her with all of his heart.  My heart no longer belonged to me.  I could never give it to her.

Sunday morning I gathered my clothes and my money.  I bought a packhorse and a good bronco.  I bought lots of flour and corn meal.  I bought a lot of fabric and winter clothing.  I also bought five very special gifts.

I rode quickly along the trail.  I wanted to make the trip in one day, but I had to let the two horses rest.  I pushed the horses past the Deer Creek station, but realized they could never survive the pace I was riding.  I decided to push to Sweetwater Crossing by nightfall.  When I made camp near Sweetwater Crossing, the horses were lathered and exhausted.  They had to last one more day.

I was up at sunrise.  I loaded the packhorse and saddled my mount.  We rode to Devil's Gate and turned off of the trail.  I found the trail to the creek and headed northward.  I rested the horses at the creek.  I rode along the creek for about an hour.  I spotted a steep, narrow trail heading North.  I let the horses rest and grabbed a black leather pouch from my saddle bags.  

I removed my razor and mirror from the pouch.  I soaped my face and shaved the two-day growth from my chin and neck.  I pulled down my pants.  My pubic hair had only recently grown to a length that was not prickly.  I lathered myself and carefully stroked the blade around my manhood.  When I rode into the camp, I would be clean-shaven for them.

I headed up the trail with the packhorse laboring behind.  We lumbered along the trail for about three hours.  I knew we were getting near the caves.  I expected to be challenged at any moment.  I could feel someone watching us.  An eerie feeling crawled up my spine.  Why had they not stopped me?  Were they still here?

My horse turned a corner and the clearing was just ahead.  Standing in the clearing were three women.  They were looking at the trail, waiting for my arrival.  All three women had very stern looks on their faces.  The tall Indian warrior standing in the middle was holding a bundle of leather and steel.  Her fierce gaze pierced my soul.

I rode my horse to the center of the clearing.  Growling Bear emerged from the woods to my right side.  Snow Wolf appeared behind me and to my left side.  Both had their bows in hand, ready to kill me if they felt the need.  I dismounted and calmed my horse.  I stepped before the three women and dropped to my knees.  I passionately kissed the moccasins of the woman in the middle.

I looked up at the five stern faces that were now in front of me.  "Your Highness, if you would permit your slave to rise, he has gifts for his mistresses."

A smile eased across the beautiful face of the tall Blackfeet princess.  She motioned with her hand.  I rose to my feet and scurried to the packhorse.  I rummaged through the leather pouches.  I found the items I was digging to find.  I pulled out the first bundle.

I stepped to Black Deer.  "Black Deer That Runs Like The Wind, your slave is very happy that you have become an accomplished warrior.  I have brought you gifts in tribute of your bravery."  I opened the pouch.  I pulled out a leather strap with a long sheath attached.  In the sheath was a pearl handled Bowie knife.  I handed it to her.

The thin, black warrior smiled with her bright white teeth.  She took the knife and belt and pressed them to her heart.  She fastened the belt around her waist.  She reached for the knife and held it to my throat.  She yanked the knife away from my skin and bellowed a shrill war cry.  She placed the knife back in the sheath and stepped back from me.

I returned to the packhorse.  I rummaged some more and pulled another pouch from the bag.  I walked to Growling Bear.  I opened the pouch.  The pouch contained a gold chain with a large red stone dangling from a gold loop.  It was sturdy and very beautiful.  Her eyes grew large as she eyed the jewelry.  She placed it over her head.  I helped her pull her hair over the chain.  She looked stunning.  She grabbed the stone in her hands and clutched it dearly.

I turned a third time to the packhorse.  I pulled out a pouch for Snow Wolf.   I opened the pouch and handed her two gold bracelets with red, white, and green stones embedded in them.  I placed a bracelet on each wrist.  They fit perfectly.  They were not tight, but would not slide around when she was moving her arms.  She hugged me and whispered something in Algonquian.

The fourth package was for Crying Dove.  The beautiful, young warrior's face was aglow from excitement.  I opened the package.  It contained a brightly colored silk scarf.  The bright colors swirled around the cloth.  I placed the cloth around her neck and tied it loosely.  Her shiny, long black hair fell over the cloth behind her neck.  The loose ends hung down toward her chest.  She hugged me fiercely and kissed me longingly on the lips.

I returned to the packhorse for the final gift.  A large, stiff cardboard box concealed the gift for the great and powerful princess of the Blackfeet.  She looked at me with a queer smirk.

"A ladies hat box?"  She asked in disbelief.

"Your Highness," I stammered.  "A mighty princess deserves a crown of glory.  A mighty war chief deserves a bonnet of many feathers.  A beautiful woman deserves a hat that matches her own glory.  A gracious lady deserves a covering that showers her with respect.  You are all of these."  I paused to steady my nerves and catch my breath.  "This lowly worm crawls on his belly before you with a gift that could never honor you as it should.  Your slave only hopes that the great and powerful Bloody Raven will find it in her heart to accept him as a slave."

I opened the box.  Bloody Raven eyed the contents stoically as the others gasped in surprise.  I pulled it out.  The hat stood about six inches tall.  The brim was three inches wide in front and back, and about two inches wide on the sides.  The material was blood-red crushed velvet.  The hat was wrapped in a two-inch mesh band of the same color as the velvet.  Each side of the hat had a long white plume sticking outward behind it.  She eyed it with no emotion.

"May I?" I beseeched her as I reached the hat toward her head.

She nodded without a trace of a smile.  I place the hat upon her head.  The beauty of her face and hair were magnified a hundred-fold.  I gasped in delight.  The others sighed and gasped almost in unison.  They complimented her in Algonquian.  They all reached at her and touched the lovely headgear.

Still not showing any emotion, she looked at me.  "The others seem to like it.  I will have to see it to decide."

I scurried to the packhorse and returned with a mirror.  She cocked her head and looked at herself with grunts and groans.  She twisted her mouth in indecision.  I was beginning to worry that she would be angry with me.

She smiled.  "It is perfect!"  She stepped back.  "Cum Eater has found a gift worthy of a princess, a chief, a beauty, and a lady.  I am delighted."

"Your Highness," I interrupted her revelry.  "Your slave has taken some of his white man's wealth and bought his Blackfeet mistresses gifts.  But, he has also invested the rest of that evil wealth and brought his mistresses food and supplies he hopes will ease their winter."

"Continue, what have you brought?"  She said, trying to sound distant and regal.  Her excitement betrayed her coolness.

"Your worm has brought flour and corn meal for food.  He has brought herbs and spices from far away lands.  He has brought blankets, coats, hats, and gloves to provide warmth in the cold weather.  He has brought you two horses to use or trade as you wish.  He has brought you more rifles and bullets."

"Our slave has done well."  She smiled.  "Did he bring us anything else?"

"He brought the only other thing he could."  I gasped as I prepared to announce the final gift.  "He has brought you that which is most important to him, yet is unworthy of five beautiful, brave, and gracious women.  He has brought himself, to be your lowly slave."

"My slaves do not wear clothes in warm weather."  She said in a cold tone.

I began stripping my clothes from my body.  I stacked them neatly in a pile.  I fell to my knees.  I leaned to her feet, and worshipped her moccasins with my tongue.

Bloody Raven motioned for me to stand.  Crying Dove took the shackles from her leader's hands.  She fastened the belt around my waist.  She buckled the cuffs around my wrists and ankles.  She attached the chain to the ankle cuffs.  I stood naked and manacled before the five warriors.

Black Raven rubbed my clean-shaven balls with her right hand.  "Cum Eater has cleaned himself well."  She smiled as she gazed into my eyes.  "Since you have returned to be our slave, you are now our property.  You have no rights.  You may never leave.  If you try to leave, you will suffer a very slow and very painful death.  Is that your wish?"
 
I gazed upward into her eyes.  I lowered my head and spoke.  "Your lowly worm is here of his own free will.  You may use him as you wish.  He will never leave his mistresses again.  He is your slave forever." 

I fell to my knees and bowed my head.  I felt the gentle touch of the great warrior princess on my shoulder.  A warm glow filled my body.  My soul was finally at peace.



- The end -