Close up, wild west - nun,miss,xxx,wild west erotic story
It was a dark and stormy night...
That's a pretty trite way to begin a story, but it's true. The wind was howling like a son-of-a-bitch and the downpour outside was making life miserable for anyone foolish enough to venture out in it. I'd taken refuge in cheap dive down by the harbor where I could drink cheap beer and watch the whores. The whores had all given up on me, but they were fun to watch anyway, as they flashed their tits at the suckers, trying to lure them on. My last beer was about gone and I was wondering if I could con the bartender into running me a tab when Matt Gromley, a sometime acquaintance, was blown in out of the storm. Two other damn fools were with him, but they were so encased in slickers that I had no idea who they were. The three of them took a table in the back of the room and I heard Matt order a bottle.
Matt was about like me, never had enough money for more than a couple of beers, so I figured he must have found himself a real sucker. I was idly trying to decide if it would be worth my while to join them when Matt pulled a stool up beside me.
"Yo Nate. Still hanging around? That beer looks about dry, buy you another?"
I was more than a little taken aback. Matt almost never had any money, and when he did, he never bought drinks. I knew he would expect something in return, but I'd about decided that my chances with the bartender were nil, so I really didn't give a shit. I nodded my assent and a fresh beer appeared in front of me.
"Why don't you bring your beer and join us in back? We've got a fresh bottle," Matt said.
I knew damn well he had a fresh bottle, and my mouth was salivating at the thought of it. I still didn't know what he wanted, but for a crack at that bottle, I was willing to listen to anything.
When I got back there, Matt poured me a drink and then introduced me to his two companions. The first one he introduced as Colonel Broaddus. The Colonel was a tall, slim man, dark hair, silver at the temples. The second one was still bundled up in the slicker. When Matt introduced her as Mrs. Broaddus, I understood why. A woman, especially a married woman, had no business in that den of pimps, whores and cheap liquor. For the life of me, I couldn't understand what she was doing there. We had a couple of drinks and shared several stories, mostly about my adventures leading wagon trains across the plains, but she never said a word.
After about half an hour they left. I was still wondering what they wanted with me, but after I discovered that they'd left better than half the bottle I decided not to worry about it. I had a fine hangover when Matt woke me up the next morning.
"Nate, get your ass up and get presentable. The Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus want to see you."
"Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?"
"The Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus. You remember, those people I introduced you to last night. I think they want to offer you a job, so you better make yourself decent and get on down to the hotel."
"A job? What the fuck do you mean?" I hadn't had a job in so long I'd forgotten what it was like to have change in my pocket.
"Yeah, a job. They need someone to drive their wagons across the plains. I don't know that you're the best, but you're the best that's available. So get yourself together. I'll see you over at the hotel."
I couldn't believe it, a real job. I knocked the dust off of my shirt and had and hurried over to the hotel.
Matt was waiting in the lobby and took me into the dining room where the Colonel and Mrs. Broaddus were having breakfast. The way I felt, I damn near threw up at the sight of food, so it didn't bother me a bit when all they offered me was coffee. I really needed another drink to settle my stomach and clear my head, but I figured that could wait, at least until after the interview.
"Mr. Singletry," the Colonel began. That's me, Richard Nathaniel Singletry, but I go by Nate. I can't remember the last time somebody put "Mr." in front of my name. Son-of-a-bitch or asshole was more what I was used to. "My wife and I are leading a dedicated group of missionaries to convert the heathen Sioux."
That got my attention. If they really planned to take their bible thumping ways to the Sioux, the only thing they were likely to change would be their chances at a long life. I took a long look at both of them. Anybody that fucking crazy, deserved at least that. The Colonel was just as I remembered him -- tall, thin, with a high sweeping forehead. His wife still hadn't said a word, but now that she wasn't covered up with the slicker, I could see her -- at least part of her. She had a good face, strong but not too strong, soft lips and the kind of eyes that made me weak in the knees. Long blond hair hung down to her shoulders, but the rest of her was covered with a black dress, from her neck to her ankles. But even that dress couldn't hide the face that there was a good looking body underneath it. I just felt it was a shame she was going out west to commit suicide. Fortunately, it didn't have anything to do with me.
"Mr. Singletry, Mr. Gromley tells us you're the best wagon master in the business. Somehow I doubt that you're the best, but you are the best we've talked to. We'd like you to lead us to the heathen."
I'd been expecting this, and I was ready. "No Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't do that. When I lead a train I try to stay away from the Sioux. People that don't have a way of winding up dead. And from what you tell me, you don't just want to go across their land, you want to meet up with them. Take my advice. Go back to New York or wherever you came from and leave the Sioux alone. We'll all be happier for it."
I pushed my chair back and got up. "As for me, I'll be on my way. I've got some unfinished business I need to tend to."
Mrs. Broaddus spoke up for the first time. "Mr. Singletry, we're offering five dollars a day, plus meals."
That stopped me. I was used to a dollar a day and having to fend for myself for meals. "What would I be expected to do for this money, Mrs. Broaddus?"
"Just take care of our wagons and horses and lead us across the plains, Mr. Singletry. Mr. Gromley will be along as scout and handyman and the rest of the women will take care of the cooking and cleaning."
I knew what Matt was along for. The only thing he was handy with was a gun. "How many people are in this party?"
"Not counting you and Mr. Gromley, there's twelve of us. Four men and eight women."
I wasn't ready to admit it, but she'd gotten me when she mentioned $5. For that kind of money I'd of introduced them to Sitting Bull. And if the rest of the women looked anything like she did, I might just get lucky.
So it were fourteen of us altogether who made the trek out west to save the heathen Indians. Our leader, Colonel Broaddus, was a civil war vet and still liked to keep the title. I said he was our leader, but if the truth were known, his wife, Angela, made all the decisions. She led him around by the nose and the rest of us followed. I was never sure why the rest of them followed her, but I knew what my motives were. She paid me regular and I kept hoping against hope to get into her pants. If she hadn't been so damned straight laced, I'd of balled her in a second. But we were a month out of St. Louis. I'd given up on getting laid and was just hoping to get a smile out of her, but so far I hadn't even gotten that. I figured it was just one of God's practical jokes -- all those good looks wasted on a frigid, domineering bitch like her.
Their daughter, Susan, had inherited her mothers good looks, but fortunately, not her attitudes, except when it came to sex. Like her dad, she was a Milquetoast. Whatever her mother said, that's what she did. I knew I was never going to get anywhere near her, but at least she smiled at me.
The Colonel's assistant, Major Bromley, was a portly man. Not much good for anything, but he could thump a bible with the best of them. I don't think he'd ever been in the war, but he was the Colonel's assistant, so I guess that's where he got the title. Agnes, his wife, was almost as big around as he was. At least she had been when we'd left St. Louis. But a month on the road was starting to slim her down already, and the hornier I got, the better she was starting to look. To be honest, she didn't really look that bad anyway, but losing another 20 or 30 pounds wouldn't hurt her. Like a lot of heavy women, she had a very pretty face and was really quite attractive, despite her girth. She was Angela's assistant and made damn sure the rest of the women stayed in line.
The rest of the Colonel's following consisted of Ned and Maggie Smith, Bob and Priscilla Parker, and three single women, Mabel, Lucille and Rachel. Oh, and Matt and me of course.
If it hadn't of been for the drab clothes they wore every one of the women, even fat Agnes, would have turned heads anywhere she went. I don't know if beauty was one of the Colonel's prerequisites to join the group or not, but it sure seemed that way. After Angela, Priscilla was my favorite. But Bob was a giant of a man and I was afraid he had a jealous streak to match his strength. At any rate, he was big enough that I didn't want to take the chance. All of them were lookers. It was just too bad they wore those ugly clothes.
It turned out that their ugly clothes were a requirement. The Colonel's brand of Christianity required the women to be excessively modest in everything they did. So they all wore plain black skirts that swept the ground. Their matching blouses had long sleeves and a high collar that fit high around the neck. And no makeup of course. On special days they'd decorate themselves with a bit of white lace.
Matt and I had been picked to join the group at the last minute. Matt because he could speak Sioux and was good with a gun and me because I could drive the wagons and knew my way across the desert and the mountains. But neither of us had ever really fit in. The Colonel and his group were bringing Christianity to the heathen Indians, but Matt and I just wanted to get laid. The two of us had long talks and we'd of both given almost anything to get under some of those skirts, but we also knew it would be worth our jobs to even try.
The closest I ever got to any of them was one afternoon after we'd camped near a stream. I'd snuck away to get a couple hours of sleep while they set up camp, and found a dandy place on a high rock overlooking the stream, but out of everybody's sight. I guess I'd been up there for about half an hour when I was woken up by the women laughing as they walked down to the stream. Curiosity beat out my need for sleep and I peered over the edge of the rock to see what they were doing. All thoughts of sleep disappeared when they all peeled off their black dresses and started washing them in the stream. And they made quite a sight, kneeling there in their white bloomers and stays. The good Christian boy my mamma raised would have backed out of there and never said a word to anyone, but I'd long since outgrown that shit. I just knew that I was finally going to get a chance to see what they really looked like.
It wasn't long before Angela stood up, stripped off her undies and dove cleanly into the water. The rest of them followed right behind her. I knew better than to try and sneak any closer; I'd get caught for sure, and that would mean my job. Even at that distance, I could make out their well shaped tits and the darker spot at the juncture of their thighs. With a fertile imagination like mine, just watching them gave me enough memories to last a good long while.
I just couldn't figure these bible thumpers out. They'd all given up comfortable lives back east, just so they could bring civilization to the heathen Indians. Now here we were, camped at the foothills of the Rockies and the heathens were about to tell us that they didn't want our fucking civilization.
Our camp had been overrun during the night. I'm not sure how, I think Bromley had gone to sleep or something, but I really don't know. Gromley and Ned Smith had both been killed trying to defend the camp, but it had been useless. With those two dead, there were only four of us men against about a hundred Indians. It was over in a hurry, and now we were sitting with our wrists and ankles tied, under the watchful eyes of those heathens we were going to civilize.
Then their Chief addressed us. I was amazed that he spoke better English than I did. He gave us a long speech about how he had been taken east as a child and raised in New York, but eventually he had gotten fed up with the white man's ways and come back to his people. The one thing he did miss though was the burlesque shows. Indian women just couldn't get the hang of it. So he was going to have our women put on a little show for all of us to enjoy. After the show was over, they'd keep what they wanted and the rest of us could go on about our business.
I have to admit, I thought it was a pretty good deal. We were going to get out with our lives and it sounded like we were going to get to see the women strip as well. I hadn't had a woman since we'd left St. Louis over two months ago, and every one of these was a good looker. Even the fat one had started to look better as the trip wore her down. If the Indians kept any of the women, well, them's the breaks. At least the rest of us would still be alive.
Major Bromley, however, was having none of it. He was at his bible thumping best. "No, no," he screamed. "You can't force them to do that! These are good Christian women! They'll die before they'll submit to your bestial demands!"
The Chief nodded at one of his henchmen. One round from Gromley's pistol and Bromley joined Ned and Matt, face down in the dirt.
"Is there anyone else who objects to my program?" the Chief asked.
Needless to say, the Colonel, Bob Parker and I just sat there.
The Indians formed a circle and the ladies were led into the center of it. While we had been sitting there, some of the squaws had been supervising them while they had been getting dressed. And they did look nice -- even in their black skirts. They were all wearing plenty of lace and had on full petticoats. Each one of them looked like she was ready for a night on the town and it wasn't even 9 in the morning yet.
One item of apparel I know wasn't in their bags. They were each wearing a collar with a leash attached and they each had a squaw to lead them around. One quick turn around the circle to show us their finery and they were led to a small knoll overlooking the circle. Out of the way, but they could see everything that went on.
Then the Chief called Mrs. Broaddus to the center of the circle. First he apologized for the quality of the music, but there was only so much you could do with a tom-tom.
"Now do not try my patience Mrs. Broaddus. I expect you to dance until we get tired of watching you. You might have to take all your clothes off."
"All my clothes? Then I'd be naked? Naked? You expect me to strip naked? The Colonel's never seen me naked. No! There's no way that I am going to bare myself for you."
"I didn't say you were going to have to. I only said that I expected you to dance until we got tired of watching, and that you might have to take all your clothes off. I'm going to ask you one more time, Mrs. Broaddus. Are you going to dance for us or not?"
"I certainly am not! The nerve! To think that I would even consider disrobing in front of you..."
The Chief didn't say another word. The squaw dropped the leash and Angela looked around for someplace to escape to. I don't know where she thought she was going to go, but it didn't matter. Two of the Indians grabbed her by the arms and held her in the middle of the circle. Then the squaw grabbed Angela's dress at the neck and literally ripped it off of her. Another rip and her petticoats joined the ruined dress. A screaming, blushing Angela was revealed to us in her bodice, bloomers and stockings.
The squaw had moved so quickly that none of us had had a chance to react, although I'm not sure what we could have done anyway. Despite his bonds, the Colonel had started to jump up, but one of the braves placed a knife warningly against his neck and he quieted back down.
I guess Angela thought they were going to stop there. Most of her clothes were off -- the only thing she had left was her underwear. She was still blushing and doing her best to cover herself, but she was regaining some of her composure.
The squaw took the Chief's knife and menacingly advanced toward Angela. "Kill me if you want, but I won't allow myself to be debased this way! I won't take anymore of my clothes off. I won't submit to your profane desires!" she screamed.
But Angela had misunderstood the squaw's intentions. A few quick cuts and the few scraps of dress that remained were removed. Then the squaw placed the knife against her neck.
Ever the proud stoic, Angela raised her head high, revealing the full line of her throat. "Go ahead, cut my throat. But please make it quick. After disgracing me like this, I can never show myself with decent folk again anyway."
One quick slice of the knife and the bodice fell away. Angela was nude from the waist up. She barely had time to gasp as her breasts sprang into view before the knife was slipped in the waistband of her bloomers. Her proud stoicism vanished like a whisp of smoke.
"OHMIGOd!!" she screamed. "MY BREASTS, THEY'RE NAKED! MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME? WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW? OH NO, NOT THAT! OH PLEASE DON'T DO THAT! NOT MY PANTS! LEAVE ME MY BLOOMERS AT LEAST! LEAVE ME SOME MODESTY. DON'T DISGRACE ME COMPLETELY. PLEASE DON'T TAKE MY BLOOMERS OFF TOO! THEN I'LL BE COMPLETELY NAKED!! OH PLEASE, PLEASE DOOOOOOOOOOON'T..."
The bloomers were gone! And she was absolutely right. She was naked. Butt fucking naked except for her shoes and stockings. And the squaw was busy working on those. In less time than she had spent discussing her unveiling, Angela had been stripped naked and her shredded clothing was piled in front of her. By now, even her shoes and stockings were gone. The only thing she had on was her collar and her leash.
I said she was a handsome woman. I was wrong, she was beautiful. With the two braves holding her arms the way they were she was fully exposed and I couldn't help but admire her. I think I said earlier that she was about 40, but despite her age, her breasts were full and firm with none of that sag that normally attacks women her age. Her areoles were the size of silver dollars and the nipples were already hard from this uninvited exposure. The way her hips swelled out from her slender waist reminded me of a 20 year old. I know it was wrong of me, but I was hoping the Chief did strip her daughter, just so we could compare the two. I rather suspected the mother would come out the winner. Angela was blushing before, but now that she was naked, her whole body was tinged with pink. It made a fine accent for the fine mesh of blond pubic hair which barely covered the lips of her pussy.
Angela was in tears. When the Indians released her, she made a desperate grab for her ruined clothing in a feeble attempt to find something, anything to cover herself with. But the squaw would have none of that. Grabbing Angela's leash, she led her around the circle again, but this time the once proud Angela was doing everything she could to conceal her finery.
If our situation hadn't been so precarious, I'd of had to laugh. But she did look ludicrous -- hunkered over to make herself as small as possible, one arm was shielding her tits, but the nipples poked out anyway, and the other hand was over her crotch. And the way she was hobbling along after the squaw, with her knees held tightly together, I thought she was going to fall over.
But she was determined nobody would see her cunt. About halfway around the circle, the squaw stopped to let some Indians examine her up close. That's when the depths of her predicament became apparent to her. One of the Indians grabbed her ass. When Angela moved her hands to protect her backside, other hands immediately covered her exposed tits and twat, tweaking her nipples and pulling her pubic hair. Angela was starting to go into hysterics when the squaw led her away. Eventually, she ended up in front of the Chief, sobbing hysterically and still futilely trying to cover herself.
The Chief appraised his captive for a few minutes. Then he had the squaw turn her around so he could appraise her rump. Her hands were slapped down and they forced her to stand up straight so the braves were treated to an unobstructed view of her tits and pussy. Angela was blushing before. Under this scrutiny she was really blushing. This was the ultimate degradation, stripped naked and put on public display. But she must have been getting a little excited. It might have been the tweaking they had been subjected to earlier, but her nipples were hard and erect.
The Chief's appraisal went on for so long that Angela was starting to get edgy. Surely he hadn't stripped her just so he could see what she looked like. But it seemed like that's all that was going to happen. It was mortifying, standing there naked while the Chief and his Indians looked at her breasts, buttocks and pubic area, but if that's all that was going to happen she knew she should be grateful. At least no one was touching her anymore. She had expected to be raped, and thought she'd rather die, but she was certain she could endure this. She just hoped that nothing worse happened to any of the other women. Then she learned that being stripped publicly wasn't the ultimate degradation.
The Chief nodded and the squaw forced her to bend over and place her hands on her knees. Her feet were kicked apart and then she was told to spread them some more. Bent over like that with her legs spread, she know that her most private parts, her anus and vulva, were completely exposed to the eyes of her captor. And not only his eyes, but his hands as well. She lost what little composure she had left when she felt his hands on her crotch and his fingers probing inside her vagina. Her skin was crawling and it took every bit of her strength not to scream, even before his thumb invaded her anus. Angela was trembling and almost in hysterics again. The Chief had inserted his thumb in her anus and his fingers were inside her vagina. Other hands were rubbing her buttocks, her breasts and pinching her nipples. From somewhere, other fingers seemed to be mauling her delicate clitoris. Then, as quickly as they had started, the hands were taken away.
"Mrs. Broaddus, straighten up and turn around. I like for people to look at me when I'm talking to them. No, don't bother trying to cover yourself. We've already seen everything you've got to offer, and I like to be able to look at the people I'm talking to as well."
Angela quickly put her hands at her sides and stood there, meekly listening to what the Chief had to say.
"There's another of your customs that I learned to enjoy while I was in New York. Spanking, I think you call it. It's something that's normally given to children, but I've found it to be most satisfactory when administered to a grown woman. You've displeased me so you're going to be punished, and those hips of yours are nice and soft and look like they can take a great deal. But I'm going to give you a choice. Would you prefer a spanking on your bare bottom or would you rather have an Indian whipping given to you by the squaws?"
"You wouldn't spank me! You can't whip me like a child! You've already humiliated me enough without putting me over some man's knee. You've stripped me naked for God's sakes, and done it in front everyone. Hasn't that been punishment enough?"
"Mrs. Broaddus, you haven't been punished at all yet. Now, which will it be?"
"Omigod, you're serious, aren't you? You really do intend to whip me. But why? What reason have I given you to want to whip me?"
"I don't need a reason, Mrs. Broaddus. The fact that I want to is reason enough. Added to that though, you refused to do what I asked. Your refusal and the fact that your delectable rear end just looks like it's begging for a spanking is more than enough reason to give it one."
"Ohhh God. W-w-what is this Indian whipping like?"
"A flogging, Mrs. Broaddus. Given by five of my squaws. I promise you, when they're done, you'll know you've been whipped. And I know you'll be well marked. But at least you won't have to endure the humiliation of being turned over my knee. Now hurry up and make up your mind. You're starting to try my patience. If you don't decide soon, I'll make sure you get both."
"A-a-a flogging!? Oh God, I know I couldn't stand that. If, if I'm going to have to submit to more punishment, I'll... I'll take the spanking. At least with that, I know what to expect. Where are you going to spank me? You... you will take me someplace private, I hope. You won't spank me here in public, will you?"
"Where am I going to spank you? Why, I'm going to spank you on your bare ass, Mrs. Broaddus. Where else does one get a spanking? And if you were wondering where we are going to be while I'm spanking you, we're going to be right here where your husband and everyone else can watch you jump. Might do him some good to learn how to get your attention. Now get over here and let's get started or would you like a flogging as well."
Sobbing in embarrassment, Angela clamored over his lap, her pelvis resting on his right leg and her naked breasts flopping against his left. He carefully positioned her with her ass elevated and turned so that we could see it. With her head down like that, I know she was trying to picture how she must look to us with her ass facing us like it was. Almost involuntarily, her legs and ass cheeks clenched tight and her ass seemed to blush a little more. Then he proceeded to wallop her butt. I was fascinated as the color of her delicate skin turned first to a darker pink and then to bright red. Angela tried to be a stoic about the whole thing, but I was sure that wouldn't last. She did better than I expected though. Up until her ass started to turn bright red she kept her mouth shut and her legs tightly clenched together. Then something broke inside of her and suddenly she was kicking, screaming and wailing loud enough to wake the dead.
SMACK! THWACK! SMACK! "Aiiee! Oh God! You're killing me!" THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! "My bottom, my poor bottom!" THWACK! THWACK! "You're peeling the skin off it, I know..." THWACK! "... you are." THWACK! THWACK!
The Chief sort of smiled at this, but kept right on beating her ass. I don't know if she was aware of it or not, or even if she cared at that point, but the way her legs were flailing around she was displaying all of her innermost secrets. She'd kept everybody but the Chief from seeing them before, but now her cunt and asshole were fully exposed to all of us.
THWACK! "Oh God, I can't take any more!" THWACK! "Please give me another chance," THWACK! "Please let me dance for you!" THWACK!
"You can't strip any more, Mrs. Broaddus. You're naked. Your clothes were ripped off of you, remember?" THWACK! THWACK! "And that's what the dance was all about."
"Oh God, please stop beating me." THWACK! "My bottom is burning so bad." THWACK! THWACK! "I've, I've got more clothes, really I do." THWACK! "Oh, oh, oh please, I'll go put them on and then I'll strip for you." THWACK! THWACK! "I'll do anything you want, really I will."
THWACK! "No, I don't think so, Mrs. Broaddus. I think you're going to do anything I want anyway. Now you just lie here and be patient. I'll be through in a little while."
Angela sort of gave up at that. But she sure didn't quit screaming or flailing about. She'd shown us her cunt before. Now she was showing us the inside of it.
When the Chief finished her spanking, her entire bottom was cherry red and she had been reduced to whimpering and weeping.
Holding her in position, the Chief began massaging the buttocks he had so recently punished. Under this gentle touch, Angela's ass began to move involuntarily in time with his rubbing, but she was really moving it when he ran his fingers down her slit. She was still sobbing and whimpering, but she was grinding her crotch against his leg. "See how responsive she is," the Chief told his squaw. "And look at her snatch. It's dripping and begging me to stick something in it. But not now. She didn't want to play, so now she has to pay. Take her and feed her to the ants. They should keep this twat nice and warm until we're ready for her."
Blushing deeply at the way her body had betrayed her, Angela was led to the edge of the circle where she was staked out, face down in the dirt and spreadeagled. I don't think it was lost on Angela that in this position, her ass was available to them for whatever they might want to use it for, whether it was another whipping or sticking something in it. Nonetheless, I think it was a real surprise when she found out what they had planned for her. One of the Indians had found our supplies and handed the squaw a jar of syrup which she poured down the crack of her ass and rubbed all over her pussy -- "just to sweeten it up a bit".
While they had been staking her out, one of the squaws had been busy with Bromley. Cutting his prick off, she carried it over to where Angela was, stuffed it in her mouth and tied it in place with a bit of her ruined clothing.
Leaving the woman in her misery, with ants already crawling over her cunt and the dead prick filling her mouth, the Chief called for Mrs. Bromley.
"Oh no," she cried. "Haven't you done enough with poor Angela? Why do you need me too?"
"Come along now, Mrs. Bromley. You wouldn't want her to suffer alone, would you? You know what they say, 'misery loves company', so get down here and quit blubbering."
Sobbing, Agnes Bromley picked her way down the hill to where the Chief was. Like he had with Angela, he explained in detail what he wanted her to do.
"Oh God, please no!" she wept. "Shoot me, let me join my husband, but please don't strip me of my dignity."
Her begging did no good at all, other than getting her out of having to dance. The squaws had learned how effective the knife was at removing clothes, so she was probably stripped even faster than Angela had been. In less time than it would have taken me to say "Agnes, take your clothes off," she was just as naked as Angela was. And just like Angela had been, she was shown off to everyone in the circle, and then presented to the Chief. Her short, plump body didn't look bad at all. None of those rolls of fat I had expected. She was just a smooth pudgy body with tits and a cunt. Or she would have been smooth if it hadn't been for her cunt hair. Her snatch was thickly covered with the most incredible mass of pubic hair I had ever seen. The curly hairs even covered her lower belly and part of the inside of her legs. It was literally a pelt. Of course the Chief had her spread her legs so everyone could see and feel it. After she had been thoroughly poked and prodded, just to make sure there really was a pussy under all that hair, the Chief addressed her.
"Mrs. Broaddus got the spanking, Agnes. So you're going to get to show us how the whipping is done."
Agnes' jaw went slack. She'd been speechless ever since they started stripping her, but now she truly didn't know what to say. She was sure she wasn't going to be showing anyone how a whipping was done. Rather, they were going to be showing her. And she knew it was going to be on her body that she was shown. She was already screaming as the braves carried her over to a nearby tree. Her wrists were tied together and the rope was thrown over a branch of the tree. Then Agnes was hauled up until her feet were dangling off of the ground. I hate to admit it, but Agnes looked even better like this. Stretched out the way she was, her body had more shape and wasn't quite so round. Her arms pulled over her head like they were caused her tits to stick straight out. Like I said before, she'd lost a lot of weight since we left St. Louis, but a few more pounds would be all right. I had no doubt that by the time this ordeal was over she would have lost that and then some. Hell, if we ever got back to civilization, she'd probably be a damn good looking woman.
Five of the squaws gathered around her, each one carrying a vicious looking leather strap. First, each of them grabbed a handful of her pubic mat and tugged vigorously, coming away with a handful of cunt hair. Then they proceeded to lash her with the straps until she was spinning around and around. As soon as the rope was twisted tight, then they started lashing her in the other direction. They continued lashing her in this fashion, first to the left and then to the right, until Agnes' body was a mass of welts from her shoulders to the back of her calves. Even her tits and pussy had gotten their share. Her tits were crimson and the only thing protecting her pussy was what she had left of that wonderful pelt.
Finally the Chief had them cut her down and told them to stake her out near Angela. But Angela was on her belly, with her ass in the air. Agnes was stretched out flat on her back.
The Chief sat down beside her and began speaking in a gentle tone. "Mrs. Bromley, earlier you expressed a desire to join your husband. If you haven't learned your lessons yet, you might still get the chance. But I don't think you'd really enjoy that, and it would be a terrible waste of this fat pussy." With that he combed his fingers through her fleece and began diddling her clit. Still speaking in a conversational tone, he asked, "Have you heard of scalping, Mrs. Bromley? Let me explain it to you. It's normally done on a living person, and from what I've been told is not a pleasant experience." With his other hand, he grabbed the dead Bromley and pulled him up by his hair. A quick slice with the knife and Bromley's scalp came away in his hand. "Now Mrs. Bromley, you can either do what you're told, or I'm going to scalp you, HERE!" He tightened his grip on her fleece and laid the bloody knife on the side of her cunt.
Agnes was in hysterics. "OH GOD NO, PLEASE NO, I'LL DO ANYTHING, WHATEVER YOU WANT, ANYTHING, JUST PLEASE DON'T DO THAT."
"Anything, Mrs. Bromley?"
"OH YES, ANYTHING, ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TO DO. JUST DON'T SCALP ME LIKE THAT! I COULDN'T STAND THAT!"
One of the braves strode over to Agnes. Lifting up his loin cloth, he knelt over her face. Agnes surprised us all by knowing just what to do. When the dick was presented to her lips she immediately sucked the thing down. I'm tempted to say she sucked as though her life depended on it, but this time it really did. The first brave was followed by five more and she was just as professional with all of them. There was no question in my mind that she'd done that sort of thing before. And I don't think Bromley had been the only beneficiary. She was far to professional for that.
Before returning to his show, the Chief set the squaw to the task of pulling out what was left of Agnes' cunt hair. "I'd like that pussy to be bald before we turn her loose."
Maggie Smith was next. The other two women had been punished severely when they refused to strip and Maggie was determined that that wouldn't happen to her. She couldn't imagine a whipping, or even a spanking on her tender buttocks. And then to be staked out... She was sure she was going to be raped, but even that was preferable to what had happened to Angela and Agnes. As soon as she entered the circle, she started tearing at her clothes. And it seemed like she couldn't wait to get out of them. Ripping and tearing, her clothing was soon ripped to shreds and Maggie was naked. Exceedingly embarrassed, but butt fucking naked. Standing with her arms at her sides, afraid to cover her cunt or shield her tits, she was sobbing as she listened to the Chief berate her. She had thought that by debasing herself like this, she was doing what was expected. Now she was being chastised for her eagerness.
"I told you I wanted burlesque. If I'd just wanted you naked, I wouldn't have given you anything to put on in the first place." Turning to the squaw he said: "Give her a whipping and then have her bring all her clothes out here. We'll see if she has anything else that's acceptable. If she does, she can try again. If not, well..."
Almost immediately, Maggie was thrown down on her stomach and the squaw was astraddle her back. About twenty or thirty good solid licks to her upturned ass and Maggie was led, sobbing, back to the tents.
Then it was Priscilla's turn. Bob was visibly agitated, even more so than the Colonel had been. He didn't want her to do this, but he knew what would happen to him if he interfered, and what would surely happen to her if she refused. It didn't really matter. Unless he wanted to join Bromley, it was out of his hands.
Priscilla wasn't at all sure what to do, but she was sure she didn't want the same fate as any of the other three. Not even Maggie. She knew she couldn't bear having her bottom whipped, but she really didn't want it whipped in front of her husband. But Bob had always gotten excited when she took her clothes off and showed her naked bosom to him. Maybe if she did the same thing for the Chief he'd let her go. Bob got real excited when she showed him her naked bottom, but maybe she wouldn't have to go that far. If she was real lucky, maybe she could get away with just exposing her breasts.
But Priscilla had never been a stripper. Stripping for her husband and stripping for an audience were two different things. She took her clothes off, but that's the kindest thing you could say for the way she did it. Slowly she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off of her shoulders. Unfastening her skirt, she let it fall to the ground. With a nervous look at her audience, her petticoats soon followed. Putting off the inevitable as long as possible, she sat down and pulled off her shoes and stockings.
Unfastening her stays, she let them drop and her gorgeous breasts were free. I could tell her hands were itching to cover them, but she was afraid to. Naked, except for her bloomers, she walked around the circle exhibiting those gorgeous breasts for everyone to see. I think it was sometime during that circuit that she started to really started to understand what was expected of her. By the end of her parade, she was flaunting her tits, not just exhibiting them. When she ended her circuit she was standing directly in front of me. Ever since I'd met her, I'd envied Bob his good luck. Now here she was, almost naked and so close I could touch her. Glancing at Bob, she mouthed a silent "I'm sorry", and untied her bloomers. Pushing them down over her beautiful hips, she stepped out of them and kicked them to the side.
I could have died. I'd had wet dreams about something like this and now here I was, face-to-face with the most beautiful cunt this side of St. Louis and my hands were tied so I couldn't even touch it. I made myself many promises that day, but one of them was that I was going to get into that box.
And then she started to dance. It still wasn't sensuous, but considering how reticent she'd been before, her dancing was positively scandalous. She swayed and jiggled and twisted all over her dance floor. As a final gesture, she curtsied as she presented herself to the Chief and his Indians. Except for her collar, she was butt naked, and with her hands clasped behind her back she was fully exposed. There was no question about her obedience. She was demonstrating to all of us that she was fully compliant and available for anything the Chief might want of her. And she had done this in full view of her husband. Bob was apoplectic. But the body she was presenting was beautiful. Her tits were well shaped and stood up of their own accord. And the nipples were hard and were sticking straight out. Her waist was narrow and flared out over a gorgeous pair of hips. And her pussy... God what a pussy... Her cunt hair was light brown and very fine. It covered her snatch, but just barely. The pussy lips were plainly visible through it.
Like I said, Bob was apoplectic. He just knew they were going to rape her on the spot. I was sure that was going to happen, but I didn't think it would happen just yet. It was just too bad she hadn't figured out sooner what the Chief wanted.
The Chief proved me right when he announced: "That was better, but it's still not burlesque. You're supposed to dance while you're stripping, not just take your clothes off." Grabbing his limp member, he finished his statement. "Your supposed to make my dick hard." Turning to the squaw he told her to whip Priscilla and then take her back to tents to collect all of her clothes. Like Maggie, if she had anything else that was acceptable, she might be allowed to try again.
"Oh please," Priscilla begged. "Whip me if you want, but let me try again before you do."
"In case you hadn't noticed, girl, you're naked. You don't have anything left to take off. How can you strip again?"
"I... I... When I started to undress, I didn't realize what you expected of me. I knew you had stripped the other women naked, but I didn't think you would expect that of me. Foolishly, I thought if I showed you my breasts, somehow that would appease you and you'd let me keep my pants on. But I know better now, I know you'll never let me go just halfway. Please let me try again. Even without my clothes, I know I can do better." She made a frame around her pussy. "Let me show this off for you. I'm, I'm sure I can m-m-make your d-d-d-dick hard. If I don't," she turned around and bent over, presenting her ass to him, "then whip my fanny if you still want to, but please let me try first."
Shrugging, the Chief said, "Your fanny looks like it's begging to be whipped anyway. Okay, go ahead. But you'd better be good. If I'm not satisfied, you'll be hanging from the tree like Mrs. Bromley was earlier and it won't be just your fanny that gets whipped."
Priscilla spun away and really began to dance. I know she was spurred on by the threat of the flogging, but she really went all out. She was flashing her pussy all over the place and jiggling her tits in the Indians' faces. But Bob turned green when she grabbed an Indian and fell to her knees in front of him. Lifting up his loin cloth she sucked his dick down and did her best to make Agnes look like an amateur. Finishing with him, she moved on to a second, and then a third. She had the third one lie down on his back and she knelt over him, ass incitingly stuck up in the air. Looking back over her shoulder, she patted her fanny provocatively. The Indians didn't need a second invitation. She had five of them in both of her holes before the Chief ordered her to stand up.
"That was very good Mrs. Parker. Now you've made my dick hard. Maybe later I'll allow you to suck it off. But you should have done that in the first place! Go get your clothing. If you have anything that's acceptable, you can dance again later."
Smiling, a naked Priscilla was led off. She had cum leaking from her ass, cunt, and down her cheeks, but at least she hadn't been whipped. And she'd already been fucked more times today than Bob had fucked her in the past month.
There were still four women left. I was wondering which one of them was going to be next when the Chief walked over to where Angela was squirming.
"Ahh, I see the ants are enjoying their meal. Earlier you said you'd do whatever I wanted, but I'm not sure you were serious. Now are you ready to do what you're told, Mrs. Broaddus?"
Angela couldn't speak around her penis gag, but from the way she was shaking her head, it was evident what she was thinking.
"Very well, flip her over. We'll give the ants and the sun a chance at her other side."
Angela was soon reversed and her tits and cunt were coated with syrup. The Chief had just turned to walk away when he seemed to have second thoughts.
Turning back to Angela, he grabbed a handful of her pussy hair. "I'm tired of dallying with you, Mrs. Broaddus." Laying the knife beside her cunt, he said, "I know you saw the little demonstration I put on for Mrs. Bromley. Now, unless you want to know what it feels like to be scalped, you'll do whatever you're told."
Angela was in shock. She'd already said she'd do whatever he wanted, and now he was threatening to cut her twat off. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, but the only thing we could hear was grunts as she tried to vocalize around the prick that was still filling her mouth.
"I think the bitch is trying to say something. Get that thing out of her mouth so I can understand her."
As soon as her mouth was free, Angela whimpered, "Oh please, please, I'll do whatever you say. Anything you want me to do, I'll do. Just take that knife away. Please take it off my vagina. I'll do anything."
Cutting away her bonds, the Chief ordered her to her knees. "The last one made me hard, now I want you to suck me off. But I'm not ready to cum yet. So make me enjoy it, but don't let me cum. And you better be good at it."
Angela went at it with gusto, but I don't think she'd ever sucked a dick before. She obviously didn't have Agnes' or Priscilla's proficiency. But what she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Her hands were all over his ass and balls, pulling him closer to her. And she did her best to suck him all in. She couldn't make it though. He was just too big and she hadn't learned the knack of getting his dick down her throat. It was a good thing he didn't want to cum. She'd of probably gagged if he started shooting his load down her throat. It wasn't long though, before the Chief was pushing her away and the front of his loincloth was standing straight out.
"One more thing. We've stripped you of your clothes, now I want you to finish it off. Just so I won't be tempted to scalp you later, I want you to do it for me. By the time your finished, your cunt should be bald." Throwing his knife to her, he walked back to his place in the circle.
I was sure Angela was tempted to see if she could bury the knife in his back, but she didn't. Dutifully, she spread her legs and proceeded to shave every hair from her twat. Dry shaving is no fun any time, but she endured it, even spreading her legs wide to get the tender skin between her pussy and asshole. She must have been starting to learn something. I was really surprised when she rolled over on her belly, raised her ass in the air with her legs spread wide, and invited her squaw to shave the hair around her asshole. The squaw was really conscientious about it, spreading Angela's cheeks to shave her ass and then rubbing her hands all over her pussy, just to make sure all the bristle was gone.
When the squaw was finished, Angela returned the knife to the Chief and presented him with a gleaming, naked snatch. After examining her to make sure that neither she nor the squaw had missed any of her curly hairs, the Chief had her show herself to the Colonel, Bob and myself. For this exhibition, she was made to bend over, spread her legs, show us, and invite us to feel, every inch of her pussy and asshole. Except for her spanking, I know she was more embarrassed by this than anything else that had happened to her. The Indians violating her privacy was a passing event she could put behind her. But we were her friends and her husband. She was going to have to live with us, and the knowledge that we had seen and touched her most intimate places, for a good long while. The Colonel tried not to look, but his dick was as hard as Bob's and mine were.
While Angela was still displaying her charms for us, the Chief called one of his lieutenants over. She must of been getting inured to this public exhibition. She blushed deeply, but she didn't flinch when he spread her pussy lips to show the lieutenant. After pointing out all her attributes -- tits, nipples, mouth, pussy and asshole -- he said: "Take this one back to your men. She does well with her mouth, but I'm sure these other holes are good too. But I recommend you start out by giving her a spanking." Giving her a pop on the ass, he went on, "Notice how resilient these ass cheeks are. They're perfect for paddling and I noticed before that it excites her when you do that. Better, why don't you let all of your men spank her. She should be begging to get fucked after that."
Impatiently, the lieutenant led her to the other side of the circle. After gathering his men around, he drew her over his lap and proceeded to blister her fanny. After thirty or so licks, just like the Chief had recommended, he passed her off to one of his men. There must have been fifteen men in the group. If she was going to get a paddling like that from each of them, I knew she wouldn't be sitting down for a while. And if the Chief was right about her getting excited when she was spanked, she was going to be real excited before they were done.
Susan begged and pleaded, but he wouldn't give her another chance. She was carried over to the same spot her mother had recently occupied and spread out between the same stakes. Syrup was poured over her tits and cunt, and then she was left screaming as the ants began exploring both of her delightful crannies. I felt sorry for her, but it was nice to see that she had the same blond hair her mother used to have. And the Chief had kept his promise. He hadn't stripped her naked. She'd lost her shoes somewhere, but she still had on her stockings. The only thing any of the other women had been allowed to keep on had been their wedding bands.
Other than Maggie and Priscilla, who we'd already seen, the three single girls were the only ones left. The Chief called Mabel, but one of the squaws stopped him and had a hurried conversation. The Chief smiled and held up his hand for silence.
"I think we're finally going to get some cooperation. I've just been told that there's a new dance from Paris that these last three would like to perform for us. But their costumes require a bit of preparation. So, while they're getting ready, we can amuse ourselves with our other toys. How's Mrs. Broaddus doing? I haven't paid her any attention in a while."
Mrs. Broaddus seemed to be doing just fine. At least her ass wasn't being beat. She was on her back, legs spread wide, with a brave pounding it to her. The squaw who had taken such delight in ripping Angela's clothes off had stripped naked herself was squatting down with Angela's nose buried in her twat. The look on her face seemed to indicate that Angela had learned to eat pussy as well as she had learned to suck dick. And Angela had had plenty of dick. I don't think she had spent more than a minute without one shoved in her mouth or her cunt since she'd been given to the braves. She'd probably had more cock run in and out of her in the last thirty minutes than she had in ten years previous.
"Well, she seems to be occupied. And I wouldn't want to interrupt a girl at work. Especially when she's enjoying it as much as this one seems to be. But why don't you bring her over here where the Colonel can see better? I'm sure it will be very educational for him. In the meantime, I think I'll go play with Mrs. Bromley. She's been neglected long enough."
I'm sure Agnes didn't feel as though she'd been neglected. While we had been otherwise occupied, her squaw had been busily harvesting her fleece. Where Agnes had once had a bountiful pelt, she was now nearly bald. The skin on her pussy and between her legs was raw and sore where the hair had been pulled out.
"That's looking good, Wailing Song. It'll look better when you finish though. Looks like she's still got some hair around her slit and in the crack of her ass. You can take care of that later though. Right now, why don't you untie her?"
While Wailing Song loosened her bonds, the Chief spoke to Agnes. "Have you ever been butt fucked, Mrs. Bromley?"
"W-w-what?" she stammered.
"It's a simple question Mrs. Bromley. Have you ever been butt fucked? You've got a fine looking ass, so I'd be surprised if you hadn't. Has any man ever used you that way? You know, stuck his prick in here?" the Chief finished as he shoved his thumb up her asshole.
"N-n-n-ngggggg! Y-y-yes," Agnes confessed. "That was Joshua's favorite way. He said he liked that hole better than my regular one."
"Good. I hope it was your favorite way too, because you're about to get it again. If it was his favorite way, you should know the best position to be in, so turn over and get in it. Unless you'd rather be staked out again."
Some people might say that Agnes had learned that refusal would just earn her another beating, but I think she just needed some dick real bad and didn't really care who's it was or where it was put, just so long as it was put in her. With no hesitation at all, she rolled over, pulled her knees underneath her and raised her ass high in the air. Spreading her legs as wide as possible, her pussy and asshole were both gaping wide, begging to be used. Her pussy was dripping, so the Chief fucked there first. But after about three strokes, he pulled out, aimed a couple of inches higher, and teased her asshole with the head of his prick.
Agnes immediately started shoving back against him. "Please, please put it back in me," she whimpered.
"What do you want, Mrs. Bromley?"
"Fuck me, oh please fuck me. Don't leave me like this."
"In your ass?"
"Oh yes, my ass, my pussy, wherever you like. Just please fuck me. My ass, oh yes, please fuck my ass."
Shoving forward, the Chief parted her sphincter and buried his well lubricated prick deep in her bowels. Agnes had been giving him a ride when he was in her cunt. When he entered her asshole she went absolutely wild and really started bucking, meeting each of his thrusts and humping hard, trying to get more and more of him inside of her. When he finished and pulled out she was still whimpering, begging for more.
"This slut still wants more. Who wants to see if he can satisfy her?" A dozen of his braves lined up to take their turn at the same hole. It was going to be a while before Agnes could shit or even sit down comfortably, but judging from the way she was waving her ass around, she seemed to be enjoying it for now.
The three women hadn't returned from the tents yet, so the Chief decided to give Maggie and Priscilla their chance. Priscilla was selected to go first and Bob turned green again as she pranced down the hill, her bare ass and pussy both peeking out from under the chemise. He had almost lost his mind when she had danced before. Now it was her turn again and she had promised a better show than she'd given them the last time. I wasn't at all sure the poor man could stand it. The braves had moved Angela to the side, but she was still close enough that we could hear the groans as she sucked and fucked all comers. Bob was sure that even if his wife didn't put out during her show, she would be joining Angela as soon as she finished her dance.
Priscilla went to the center of the circle and struck a pose. Then the drum started. I don't know where she had learned, but in the last couple of hours since she had narrowly missed a whipping she had figured out what to do. She turned and twirled, flashing her ass as she did. As the tempo of the music picked up, so did the tempo of her dance. One of the braves jumped up to dance with her and Priscilla began rubbing against him, climbing all over him. Laughing, the two of them fell backward into the crowd. When Priscilla came up, she had lost her chemise, but she had acquired the braves loincloth. Wrapping it casually around her waist she began to dance around the circle, stopping at each group to feel and be felt. At the first group, she selected one brave and danced him out to the center of the circle. Unfastening his loincloth, she draped it around her neck and fell to her knees in front of him. Pulling him into her mouth, she sucked vigorously until her cheeks were bulging out from his cum.
She continued around the circle in this fashion, acquiring another loincloth at each group, until she reached the group next to where we were sitting. She selected her brave like before, but the rest of them wouldn't let her go. Finally she led three of them to the middle of the circle. Dropping her collection in a pile, she danced around the three of them, tugging and pulling until she had three more loincloths to add to her pile. Then she really went to work, waving her ass and pussy at them, and sticking her tits in their face. She even humped their legs, the way a dog does when it's in heat. Needless to say, she had three hard-ons standing proudly in front of her.
She pushed the first brave onto his back and impaled herself on him. Then she leaned forward and pointed to her asshole. The second one was quick to accept her offer and buried himself in her quivering bunghole. The third one made full use of her mouth. Priscilla was doing three men at the same time and seemed to be loving every minute of it. They all came at the same time and you could almost see the fireworks going off over them.
One by one, the three braves pulled out of her and staggered back to their group. Priscilla seemed to be exhilarated though. She danced around the circle like some sort of fairy sprite, high on some kind of drug. Then she landed in front of me.
"Hello Nate. I hope you're enjoying this. I certainly am. I never realized what I was missing, that fucking could be so much fun. But I've seen the way you've been watching all of us, hoping to see something, ever since we left St. Louis. You were too much of a gentleman though to do anything about it. Well, here I am, and I hope it's more than you ever expected to see." With that, she plopped herself down in my lap and shoved a tit in my face. Then she reached between my legs and grabbed my prick.
"Oh my, so big and hard. Why haven't you done anything about it?"
I tried to explain that they hadn't let us get up, and that this was the closest I'd been to anything since we'd left St. Louis. But with my mouth full of boob, the words just wouldn't come out. They didn't seem important enough to quit sucking that beautiful tit anyway.
"Well, not to worry. I just want you to know, I'm at your disposal -- completely. Oh Gooooood! Talk about keeping a civil tongue in your head. I've never met one more civil than yours, Sir. I know I'll get a chance to reciprocate later. And maybe, after I've had a chance to clean up, I can see if your tongue works as well in other places."
Then she gave my prick a little pinch and a pat and danced away. I just about came in my pants. Her next stop was the Colonel. She rubbed her tits in his face and humped his leg, just like she'd done withe the Indians. I don't know what she said to him, but when she danced away, the Colonel was gasping.
She was on her way over to Bob when the Chief called her. It was probably just as well. The state he was in, I don't think he could of stood his wife sitting in his lap and behaving like a slut in full view of everyone. And him not even getting any. Priscilla gave the Chief the same treatment she had given me, but then he pushed her to her knees. Priscilla knew full well what was expected of her and didn't hesitate a second. Unfastening his breechcloth, she freed his manhood and sucked every bit of it down her throat. As the music ended, Priscilla was on her knees in front of all of us, sucking as she'd never sucked before. This was the second time for the Chief, so it took him a bit longer than before. But when he finally came, it was a gusher. Priscilla's cheeks bulged out and she was gulping frantically while the Chief pumped in and out of her mouth.
As he sat down, he pulled her with him and sat her in his lap. Lucille, Mabel and Rachel were finally back from the tent, so the Chief ordered them up next. Reluctantly he lifted Priscilla off of his lap and handed her over to one of his lieutenants. There was an audible slurp as his dick slipped out of her cunt.
Bob had been right about one thing. The lieutenant took her over near where Angela was. Priscilla was really getting into the swing of things. He didn't even have to tell her what he wanted. She just fell to her knees in front of him, unfastened his loincloth, and slurped his manhood down. After the lieutenant dumped his load down her throat he left her kneeling in the dust. So now the Indians had two sucking machines, ready and eager for anyone who came along. And there were plenty. The two girls were kept constantly busy with a parade of Indians. If they could live off of cum, we wouldn't have to feed them for a week.
The three dancers took their places in the center of the circle. They posed for a few minutes to let us admire their handiwork while they waited for the music to start. And they had really done a lot of work. They were still wearing the same black dresses, but you wouldn't have believed it. The high necks were completely gone and the blouses had been cut low in the back and the front, exposing a lot of cleavage and the upper part of their breasts. The long skirts had been shortened to well above their knees. They each had on two or three extra petticoats, but these had been shortened to the same length as the dress. As short as their dresses were, it was obvious that they were wearing their bloomers, but even these were different. They'd cut the sides out and shortened them, and then sewn bits of lace where they had cut them. High heel shoes and little ankle socks completed the outfit. I tell you, it was a sight. Bare calves and bare shoulders were quite risque. If they hadn't of been preceded by absolute nudity, we'd of all been shocked.
When the drum began, they linked their arms together and started dancing around and around, kicking their legs in unison. They were kicking so high that their bloomers were visible all the way up to their crotch. They had lace sewn there too. It might of been my imagination, but I could of sworn I could see pussy hair through the lace. When the dance was over, they turned around and bent over, flipped their skirts up over their back and exposed the backside of their bloomers to all of us.
It was fun. It wasn't nearly as wanton or sensual as the Chief wanted, but it was fun. And after the show Priscilla had just given us, I think everyone needed a break. I guess the Indians thought so too, 'cause they were all stomping their feet and whooping for more.
The girls had no illusions as to what was expected of them. Their first dance had been a success, but they knew they were going to have to improve on it. They'd seen what happened to Susan, so they also knew that before they were finished, they'd better be naked. But just being naked wasn't enough. So far, all the women had been stripped, but Priscilla was the only one who hadn't been whipped. So they knew they had to be good, otherwise their asses would be the next ones turned up.
When the music started again, they loosened their bloomers and let them flutter to their ankles. Stepping out of them, they kicked up their heels and all three pairs went sailing into the crowd. Then they started the can-can again, kicking their legs just as high as before. This time I knew it wasn't my imagination. Every time they kicked, three hairy slits were visible to all of us. And when they did their finale, it was three gorgeous moons that were facing towards us.
Mabel and Lucille stood to the side and clapped their hands in time to the drum while Rachel moved to the center of the circle. She danced around for a few minutes and then zoomed in on the far side of the group. She danced over to that side and worked those men hard, sitting on a lap here, a quick kiss there, grabbing a crotch and getting grabbed in return. In a few places, she left a petticoat, promising to return for it later. Finally she danced back to the center of the ring where the fire was still smoldering. Grabbing her dress at the bust line, she ripped it off and dropped it on the hot coals. Naked, except for her shoes and ankle socks, she walked back over to the men she had been working and stood there clapping while Mabel stepped into the ring.
The three of them had to have rehearsed their act. Mabel went through exactly the same ritual that Rachel had, except in a different section of the circle. Then there were two naked beauties clapping while Lucille stepped into the ring. Lucille's share of the ring included the section where we were sitting, so naturally the Chief's lap was one of the first ones she sat on. But when she went to get up, he grabbed her dress and jerked it off of her. Another jerk and he had her petticoats. Lucille had to work her men the same as Mabel and Rachel had, but when she sat on our laps, she was fully naked. My only regret is that my hands were still tied and I couldn't fondle her tits and ass in return. Despite that, I know I enjoyed it and from the flushed look on her face, I think she did too.
The Chief called the three of them together to congratulate them and to show them his cock. Miraculously, it was hard again. But he was starting to feel sorry for the Colonel, Bob, and me. Everybody else was getting laid and sucked off, and the only thing we'd gotten had b
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