"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.