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THE GEORGIA PEACH III - The Steel Dove

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Fossy

Tribune
Chapter 12 – Entering the Chickasaw Camp, early evening 30th May 1865


They had entered a natural bowl at the end of the canyon with well over a hundred tepees stretched around its perimeter. This was more than just a small band of off-reservation renegades. The Chickasaw warriors and squaws had filtered into two single lines to observe the small party enter onto their land, noting with particular interest the almost naked, bound girl sitting astride the pony.

Kate looked down towards the ground, over her swollen breasts, crimson from the sun … she needed to look anywhere but at these warrior-savages, she was terrified.

Several braves held coup sticks adorned with scalps, or lances trimmed with feathers, and they all carried knives or tomahawks slipped into the waistbands of their brief loin cloths or full then buckskins.

Behind them, peeping from within the wigwams were the women and children. This was a fully-fledged Chickasaw camp!

Kate could feel the perspiration running down her back, soaking the grubby, thin cotton of the almost translucent drawers … her only item of clothing, the cheeks of her bottom slippery on the saddle.

As the three mounts progressed, the lines of braves closed in behind them, encircling the small party, trapping them until they reached the warrior who was clearly the Chief.

He stood, arms folded, a grave look on his face, flanked by other, lesser Chiefs. The ambiance was tense.

His flowing head dress almost touched the ground, clearly manifesting courage and his chiselled, reddy-brown face bore a fierce, proud expression.

His eyes were moving between the white men and their nubile captive.

“Why do you bring the she-devil here?” Kate looked up – this Chickasaw Chief clearly knew who she was. He moved to where she was mounted and looked up at her.

“You kill Chicksaw braves, my warriors and rip away their manhood … you are she-devil.”

Kate swallowed hard. She wanted to yell that she was being raped by ‘his brave’ and that she had not killed the first two herself. But that would have done no good, she knew that.

He reached out, grabbed her forearm where it disappeared behind her back and pulled. Kate fell with a yell and a thud to the hard, dusty ground.

She lay sobbing in a heap, as the Chief turned his attention to the Sheriff.

“Answer my question. Why you bring her here?”

The law man looked earnest, tipped his wide-brimmed hat higher onto his head and took a breath.

“Chief Wolf, we want to trade her for peace. You have her so that you can take your revenge and lay the spirits of your dead warriors to rest, in return for which you leave our town and our cattle and crops alone for the remainder of this summer and autumn.”

The sheriff knew that was as much as he could barter for. Chief Jonas Wolf, who had lived for a short while on the Government reservation before leading the renegades free, was a hard, battle worn warrior.

… And now he laughed.

“You bargain with us when we could just kill you both and rape the girl for nothing?”

The sheriff gulped. He had hoped against hope that this wouldn’t be the way that things turned.

But Chief Wolf laughed again. “Go, white man, you have your deal. We will leave your people until the snows set in …’

The sheriff knew that he was as good as his word, and this would buy them the time that Marion Town needed.

Without a further word, the two white men turned tail and galloped their horses away from this Chickasaw Canyon as fast as they could go, leaving the poor, hapless and extremely frightened Kate sobbing on the dusty ground …


Chapter 13 – Chickasaw Captive, 30th May 1865


Chief Wolf’s heart began to beat a little faster as he imagined the beautiful she-devil tightly bound to a torture frame. Leaning down and looking into the girl’s frightened eyes, he called for a blanket, and quickly covered the beautiful, already scarred, back to prevent his prize captive from getting any more burned by the hot sun than she already was. He wanted her flesh to feel the full sting of a whipping from the stout, whippy willow branches.

After studying her body, the slender legs, beautiful features and well-proportioned breasts, Chief Wolf closed his eyes and pictured in his mind’s eye, the girl hanging from the frame.

“Leash her,” were his brief but very clear words. He meant for her ordeal to begin without delay!

“Pl … please, no …” Kate had never felt so afraid. With the soldiers, especially with Uncle Billy around, she never really feared for her life, despite feeling as if she wanted to die on more than one occasion as they abused her. But here, now, surrounded by revenge-ridden savages, almost naked as she was, her imagination told her exactly what they were going to do to her.

“Silence she-devil. You kill Chickasaw warriors, so you must be punished.” She was glistening with sweat, all defiance gone from her demeanour, as Chief Wolf approached her.

The small vignette, with Kate in its middle, flourished as a growing crowd of warriors, young boys, and women appeared. The sight of the almost naked girl brought cries of glee accompanied by the exchange of knowing glances and sneers. Some of the elders already seemed to be making plans and giving orders to gather materials.

Kate began to flex her stiffened body, and the Indian blanket was flung aside as rough hands gripped her arms and pulled the girl to her feet. Her upper body heaved as she quickly surveyed the scene. Kate’s breasts remained thrust forward with provocative sensuality as she tested the carefully knotted rough rope that still held her wrists behind his back.

“Oh God, please no, don’t …” the bound girl pleaded, but to no avail as the grinning Chief tied a leather leash around her neck and jerked her forward.

“Arrggghhhhh …” came her cry, much to the delight of the watching natives, as Kate was also urged forward by the point of a war lance prodding at her back. The curious crowd parted for her. She looked at the faces, some angry, and some almost sympathetic, others obviously admiring, as every pair of eyes roamed slowly over her body. Rarely had they been blessed with such a fine captive.

Buckskin pants, and skimpy loin cloths began to tent as cocks hardened in anticipation. Women even drew aside their modest coverings to touch themselves in customary declaration of their intent. This was not about man to woman, this was an asexual thing that meant an enemy of the Chickasaw was about to be punished, and all of the natives wanted to be a part of that.

“I beg you,” Kate was sobbing openly now as she was forcefully pushed by the lance and pulled by the leash. The natives wanted to reach out and touch for themselves the beautiful, naked girl being paraded before them.

Chief Wolf was very possessive of his captives, but on this occasion the whole tribe knew that the women would take their turn at torturing this she-devil … Chickasaw squaws were infamous for their own methods but they took note of the way Chief Wolf looked upon THIS one!


To Be Continued ...
 

Attachments

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
This time it seemed unlikely that Kate would be able to use her charms to barter the girl down, so six dollars it was.
Dont jump to premature judgements
“Well Miss Kate Clarke, it’s your lucky day because I’m gonna scrub your back!”
See what I mean?
As she said this the hotel girl leaned in and, taking Kate completely by surprise, kissed her lips.
Oh, yeah!

Sorry I'm getting so far behind. With limited time to read, I'm savoring every word.
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Without clothes, belongings or weapons Kate was sitting astride the saddled horse wearing nothing but a threadbare set of thin cotton drawers. Her hands were tightly roped, and so as they set off, she had nothing but her knees with which to maintain her balance.
Looks like all that sex she traded for the Winchester and the Colt were wasted (well, not exactly wasted)
she had been present at the deaths of three of their warriors?
Kate was a hell of a lot more than "present" at the death of the third!

I'm getting dizzy with all the twists! :rolleyes:
 

curtis3.roots

Onlooker
It seems at the end of the chapter Kate is fully naked, so, when/how she looses her thin cotton drawers? (sorry if I misunderstood something).
 
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Fossy

Tribune
It seems at the end of the chapter Kate is fully naked, so, when/how she looses her thin cotton drawers? (sorry if I misunderstood something).
It's a good point Curtis - she actually loses her drawers in the next post ... so if anything, the pictures were a little premature ... and the reference to her as naked referred only to the almost full exposure of her body. My apologies - you didn't misunderstand anything my friend.
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
Whew! It appears all is over for Cat or Kate, or the she-devil, whichever name she chooses.

No hope except a last-minute Presidental pardon arranged by Jeffrey. Oops!:oops: Wrong Story! I doubt that President Andrew Johnson would be intervening on her behalf.

So long, Kate. Try to endure it as long as possible for our enjoyment!:cool:
 
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Fossy

Tribune
Chapter 14 – The Chickasaw Torture Frame, May 1865


Even though the tribeswomen were most adept at making a captive suffer for days, Chief Wolf had decided, once he had laid his eyes on the beauty of this girl, that at least for the early stages of the torture, he wanted her to himself.

Having been paraded through the encampment, Kate was led beyond several tepees in order to watch a number of braves constructing a large square frame consisting of hastily cut timbers, which were being lashed together by hemp.

One rather muscular brave stepped inside the frame, and placing his large hands around the timbers, attempted to test their strength. He nodded to the others, suggesting that the straining of the girl’s delicate body would not be enough to harm the structure in any way.

As she was painfully cajoled nearer to the point of her impending torment Kate fell to her knees. Her legs had crumbled and she could not bring herself to stand.

“Move …” The Chief grabbed Kate’s hair in his fisted grip and pulled her up to her feet.

“Move away, give room …” The whole tribe seemed to be speaking in broken, pidgin English and so Kate was able to understand every cutting, painful word describing their intent.

The excitement of the crowd subsided as Chief Wolf ordered everyone to stand back. He approached Kate with a lascivious grin playing upon his already drooling mouth.

“Please. I did not murder your warriors. I was being raped, it was only …” The Chief raised his hand and slapped Kate hard.

“Silence she-devil.”

Kate gasped and then slowly lowered her head in resigned acceptance of her fate. “I am innocent and so torturing me is not going to release the spirits of your braves …” She whispered quietly.

The crowd shouted its approval of the slap. Chief Wolf looked down upon Kate as she cowered before him.

“You very brave, she-devil-girl.” He placed both of his hands on Kate’s firm and well-rounded breasts and began to squeeze them. She pulled away from the twisted pain, her expression a mixture of pain and disgust … but also with the return of a little more defiance, and summoning up the energy she spat in the face of the Indian Chief.

“Hang her up! Stretch out the devil bitch!” The braves who were already holding Kate were ably assisted by more warriors who manhandled the girl to the frame. She strained and struggled, but was subdued even more by a blow to the head.

Kate remained dazed as her wrists were unbound and she was hurriedly positioned at the torture frame before she could attempt further resistance, the tips of her bare toes scraping along the dry dirt during the short distance over which she was pulled. In practically no time at all, the braves had Kate tightly stretched in the frame by bands of rawhide secured around each widespread wrist and ankle. It was not tied too securely in order to maintain proper circulation and with it her continued consciousness. Her entire body was exposed, but right now it was her backside that faced the Chief.

Kate looked forward towards the horizon and directly into the grinning faces of lust-fuelled braves and mocking squaws.

There was no point in her begging or pleading now, the situation had moved beyond that. She needed to save her strength for whatever the imminent ordeal held in store for her.

Chief Wolf demanded that Kate’s drawers be ripped away in order to expose her firm, tight buttocks, leaving her now totally naked.

He moved to her, relishing the fear in her eyes and the way she held her breath as his finger slowly traced the path of her scarred flesh.

“Devil-girl has known pain before, but she never knows pain like now.”

A warrior approached her front and secured a rawhide thong around each of her breasts, tying them tightly, squeezing the flesh so that the gathered mounds were pushed outwards, beginning to turn purple in no time at all.

“No, fuckkkkk, arggggghhhhhh!!!” Kate screamed as the rawhide was pulled tight, and the two pieces tied together. A third strand then secured a heavy iron pot that pulled its heavy weight downwards taking her poor breasts with it.

Acutely aware of the discomfort her situation presented, Kate began to moan. The Chief added a stone to the pot. He wanted more stones added during the torture in order to increase the suffering of their nubile captive, whose sexually tactile body was now once more glistening in the hot sun.

“So, she-devil, where is your anger and insolence now?” Kate’s muscles flexed enticingly as she began to test the bonds. If she had been facing Chief Wolf’s, Kate would have seen that loincloth was already pushed outwards. His intent was to ensure that her suffering would give him days of pleasure and release, and there were many other warriors feeling the same way, judging from the reaction of both the men and the women, who were busy preparing the switches for Kate’s whipping.

Willow branches were very pliable when stripped of their leaves. They could easily raise an angry welt on bare flesh when wielded with determination. About two dozen switches were now ready and distributed to several braves who lashed the ends together to make them easier to hold and swing.

As the braves took their positions around the hapless captive girl, the Chief smiled at the sight before him. A gorgeous white girl captive, stretched taut on a sturdy torture frame, every sinew tense and flexing, her beautiful face still expressing a little defiance, which the Chief liked to see. He looked between her wide spread legs and saw the pot hanging there, and he imagined how distended her stretched and squeezed chest would become. It made him even more erect.

“Fucccccck!” Kate now realised that the rawhide was wet. It had been soaked in water to make it pliable. It would not take long for the sun to dry it and make it shrink, causing even more pain to her already tortured body.

As the switch wielders took their positions, Chief Wolf gripped his swelling penis and shouted, “ALA!”

Kate knew that meant ‘begin’.


To Be Continued ...
 

Attachments

Fossy

Tribune
Chapter 15 – Whipped in the Frame, May 1865


“Ala, Chief.”

An eager brave handed Chief Wolf the switches he had been holding, and the tribal leader approached the stretched-out captive from the rear. There before him was the slender back, a perfect and sensual target already displaying scar tissue that would soon be opened again.

His arm swung and the switch met its mark. Kate tried to arch away but now she understood the role of the iron bowl tied around her breasts. In addition to the pain it caused, its presence meant that the bound girl could not move her body in the way she naturally wanted to. It added to her agony … it was a simply ingenious addition to her torment.

“Arrgghhhhhh!” Kate cried out much to the delight of the watching Chickasaw. A reddened welt was already rising.

Chief Wolf struck again … and again. Kate cried out, trying in vain to pull upwards and forward away from the lashes, which only made her arms strain and her cramped back muscles flex. She began to emit soft guttural sounds, manifesting her desperation, which served to excite the Chief even more.

In between the strokes of the willow lash, the Chickasaw leader began to stroke his manhood, which was starting to reach a rampantly erect state. But he touched himself only lightly so as not to orgasm, and in order to savour the suffering of this beautiful young girl.

It was time to see her truly hurt, and he grunted his instructions bringing several other warriors into position as he drew attention to Kate’s firm ass, and peachy buttocks … they would be the next target.

The tribesmen assumed their position. “Hit legs too. Back and inside. Hurt her.” His pidgin words were still very clear to Kate, who groaned anew when another large stone was dropped into the pot tied to her chest. He body fell forward which pushed her bottom further outwards presenting the perfect target.

A young squaw became impatient and ran from the crowd to where Kate’s body was spread open, and sank her jagged finger nail into her blood engorged, stiff and swollen nipple.

“ARGHH! Oh fuck!” the young captive moaned, but quickly stifled the response and bit her lower lip. The squaw grinned with satisfaction seeing the grimace on Kate’s beautiful face. She was sure that her nipple had been sliced off, which of course it hadn’t.

“Leave me alone you bastards!” Kate found her defiant voice, but the insolent outburst was greeted by several fresh blows from the switch, initially across her slender back, then her upper thighs and finally her tight ass.

Kate shook in the bonds. Her shining, sweat covered body now heaving with pain and exhaustion. When another stone was added to the pot she cried out once more as the tub pulled her body downwards towards the ground.

“Please, please, please …” she sobbed, much to watching warriors delight.

Chief Wolf gathered a small group of braves around him giving directions and making gestures occasionally casting sadistic leers at Kate. With a wave of his hand, they scattered into the brambles and brush that surrounded the camp.


Chapter 16 – Breast Torture at the hands of the Chickasaw, May 1865


Kate stretched her stinging body as best she could in a vain attempt to relieve the aching cramps that were beginning to set in. There was a lull in proceedings, which the girl knew was an awfully ominous sign.

She could feel the dried-out rawhide thongs tied around her breasts biting deep into her flesh as she hung suspended. Her heavy, glazed eyes glanced to the side where a substantial forest of saguaro cacti with their white flowers, thick spiny stems, and trunks stretched towards the sky.

Even in her dazed condition, Kate suspected that her captors might want to use those cacti as the basis for another inventive torture. She knew of the ingenuity of the Chickasaw’s brutal methods … the heavy iron tub tied to her purple, swollen breasts bore agonising testimony to that!

Her muscles were screaming out but she tried her damnedest not to let it show, because Kate knew that the more she manifested her pain, the more the savages would enjoy it. But her arms felt as though they might dislocate at any moment, her breathing was restricted by the torment being applied to her chest, and her sinewy, slender back was suffering endless distress. If she hung in the bonds, her upper body was in excruciating pain. If she stretched upwards to relieve her suffering, her thigh and calf muscles would flex in agony and the pull upon her tied breasts felt like the flesh was being torn from her body.

Kate was also thirsty, very thirsty. Many of the Chickasaw tribe’s people had dispersed during this short hiatus. The girl was licking her dry lips as the thirst she felt took over her addled mind. She needed to drink …

“Water. Please.” Kate repeated her plea several times, and each time the pleading moan sounded more like she was begging. This excited Chief Wolf, who once again began to stroke the burgeoning erection from under his loincloth.

Kate needed desperately to drink. Chief Wolf nodded and waved his hand, instructing one of the nearby braves to offer the poor girl a drink from one of the hanging water skins.

The ill-fated girl gulped at the offering until the skin was suddenly removed.

“Not too much, my beautiful she-devil. Just enough to keep you aware and hurting. Does it hurt? In time you will scream like a squaw giving birth. And in a little more time, you will beg for me to kill you.” The Chief grinned his sadistic pleasure into her watching face.

Kate tried to remain stoic, but she was having difficulty breathing. The iron tub hanging from her breasts now contained many stones and was pulling at her chest with a considerable weight.

In her short life, even with the horrors of last year, Kate had never known such prolonged discomfort, but she knew that the worst was yet to come. The Chickasaw had a beautiful, naked girl upon which they wished the heap their vengeance, and they were going to make the most of the opportunity.

Chief Wolf walked towards the front of Kate.

“Please … no …” she whispered. But with a lust-fuelled grin he picked up a switch from the dry ground, and proceeded to lay another stroke on the beautifully stretched, nubile canvas before him. This time across the tied, squeezed, purple, swollen mounds of her breasts.

“Fuckkkkkkk! Owwwwwwwww fuccckkk!”

Kate tried to yell out her agony but the ferocity of the lash took Kate’s breath away. The second blow lacerated her left nipple, which exploded in pain. Chief Wolf made sure that an even number of blows fell across each stretch of Kate’s swollen body that appeared before him.

He changed his arm position to lay horizontal strokes across the aureoles and teats, which pebbled and stiffened even more upon impact. Rivulets of red dripped onto the dusty ground from her bleeding body … The beaten girl’s head jerked from side to side, her grunts the only sound her dwindling consciousness could muster.

Then Chief Wolf stopped abruptly, gasping for breath.

“Feel the kiss of the switch, white bitch!” The Chief mocked his victim. “Yes She-Devil, you make good torture.”

He then turned and walked to the tub of buffalo skin strips soaking in brine. He reached in and retrieved several in his fist. After examining each and selected two of the longer ones. He gazed back at his captive, measuring with his hawk-like eyes.

Apparently satisfied, he walked back to Kate and roughly seized the girl’s left nipple. He carefully made a loop-like noose and tied it to the stiff teat, repeating the same action then at the other end of the strip over her right nipple. The second length was then knotted to middle of the first and pulled downwards before being secured to the stone filled tin pot.

“Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” Kate yelled. She thought that the pain in her breasts and chest could not get any worse. She had been wrong!

As he finished the task, the Chief picked up yet another stone and held it before Kate’s eyes grinning.

“You suffer well!” He then dropped the stone from a height into the tub, producing another feral cry from the poor girl.

Tugging on each tortured breast like it was a leash, Chief Wolf toyed with his captive, looking into her closing eyes. Then, out of nowhere, Kate found a little resilience and spat a thick wad of saliva into Chief Wolf’s face.

With a bone-chilling stare, he merely wiped the slime from his nose and cheek maintaining his grip on the girl’s breast-binding. He then pulled it extra tight and, stretching it as far as he could, made Kate yell until she had nothing left inside her.


To Be Continued ...
 

Attachments

Fossy

Tribune
Chapter 17 – An itch that cannot be scratched, Chickasaw Camp, May 1865


Chief Wolf nodded to an elderly white-haired squaw. Sun Deer had lost one of her three sons to this she-devil, and she was out to take her revenge. She was the mother of Chucalissa, the warrior whose penis Kate had bitten off. In her hands Sun Deer held an earthenware bowl in which she had been busily crushing nettles reducing them to a pale green sap-like juice.

She rose, her face a mask of hate, and walked towards Kate. She looked down, over the large pot pulling at her flesh, and at the tight dry slit between the bound girl’s thighs.

Using a deerskin rag to protect her hand, she applied some of the juice to Kate’s mound, and then deeper between her labia. Kate grunted as her body opened, she had neither the energy nor the mental fortitude to respond in any greater manner.

The old woman grinned a toothless grin, clearly enjoying her work, rubbing the juices in generously. Kate’s abdomen writhed as the stinging sensation from the nettles began to build.

Once Sun Deer had stepped away Kate stared at the ground. She knew what had happened and her throat dried completely leaving her unable to even cry out as the small nettle hairs left in the pulpy juice began to itch.

The infernal bite began slowly, first along the tender exposed labia, then inside the pussy itself. Unbearable itching and burning gradually spread and intensified making Kate’s clitoris swell as her body became unwittingly, and painfully, stimulated.

Kate began to squirm and writhe, movement that only added to her bound agonies. She wanted relief but this provided none. She flexed every muscle actually causing the frame to shift just as little, so fraught was her need.

“Oh God, oh please … what … have … you done … to me …” Deep, feral groans, punctuated her words, and Chief Wolf grinned broadly at the sight and sounds before him.

The Chickasaw camp did not afford many areas of shade, but Chief Wolf was able to find one such area. Though it was small in size, he knew that he would be able to linger there and observe the suffering of his prize captive. Nearby was the small blanket that had covered the back of the young girl when she had first arrived and he had dragged her from her mount. Chief Wolf placed the blanket on the dirt, sat down, and prepared himself to enjoy the torture.

Sun Deer, the elderly squaw, Chucalissa’s mother, had hoped the braves would capture this bitch, and she had imagined her to be pretty and worth torturing. But now she had seen her in the flesh, the devil-girl was actually far more beautiful than she could have ever hoped for! Kate’s strength and splendour only enhanced the elderly squaw’s sadistic urges.

The nettle juice continued to work its magic on Kate’s struggling body, and struggle she did! Her slender back was now painfully bent forward as the rawhide strips binding her breasts and holding the iron pot, continued to shrink in the sun, and the willow switch welts stung from the lashing she had received, which only intensified the pressure on her breasts from the almost full pot which remained, hanging from her stretched and tortured breasts. Chief Wolf’s right hand reached for his groin and started to caress his considerable erection.

The girl’s sweat-soaked body was a sight to behold. Her moans and grunting getting louder as the torture continued.

The itching and burning of the nettle juice was driving Kate to the point of madness. Her body twisted and writhed deliciously, which was causing Chief Wolf’s heart to beat faster as he continued to fondle his solid cock.

And then it happened. Kate’s contortions had pulled the impossibly tight rawhide strip away from her left breast. Chief Wolf rose quickly from the blanket, ran to his captive, and removed the length of rawhide from her other breast too … he did not want her maiming this early in the process of her torment.

Momentarily Kate felt some relief and then the blood began to flow back into her chest … and she screamed like she had never screamed before, until she hung limp in the frame, exhaustion having taken every movement, no matter how slight, away from her bound body.

“So, my she-devil. I said your time to taste the torture would come. This was only a test to observe your endurance … akaka.” Chief Wolf stood over the bound girl and watched for a reaction that was not forthcoming.

The Indian leader motioned to several young braves, indicating that they should prepare a large wagon wheel. The Chief could already imagine the she-devil spread-eagled and securely tied to its rim. The hub would rest uncomfortably in the small of her delicate back, pushing her abdomen forward. He could hardly wait to hear the girl whimpering in this position which would then offered a variety of tortures to the sadistic Chief.

Once the assembled tribe saw what their Chief intended, they went wild. Shouts of “Torture … Akaka-bitch … slowly” and “Make she-devil scream” were heard, as Chief Wolf joined the two braves in cutting the rope securing Kate’s limbs away from the frame, before she found herself being dragged to the wheel. With fresh panic feeding her fear, Kate tried to resist and pull away, but to no avail.

“Leave me alone! You’re nothing but savages!”

“Please …”

“I can’t take any more!”

“Please!” Kate’s pleading cries could barely be heard as attention was suddenly focused on the wheel, which was about to clasp a nubile young victim to its rim.


Chapter 18 – The Wagon Wheel, May 1865


The jeers of the watching warriors and the feeling of blood rushing back to her limbs gave Kate a strange sense of renewed energy, enough for her to resist every pull on her arms and legs as the grinning braves dragged her towards the ominous wheel. Kate’s apparent bravery and her youthful body, drew some cheers, but the captive girl’s helpless appearance also brought a plethora of lewd and derogatory comments too. She cursed to herself and grimaced as the wheel hub with its wooden rim and metal core dug into the small of her back.

Kate’s arms were pulled out to the side and dragged harshly backwards as her skin was drawn tightly over her stretched body. Her abdominals took on heightened definition as did her tortured breasts, now pulled wide on her chest, still sporting the deep biting marks of the rope and the swollen redness from being engorged with blood … and Kate’s hard nipples jutted out straight in their unfettered state.

Chief Wolf supervised every movement.

“Bind her slowly. Let her feel the thongs slowly tighten about her body!”

Kate opened and closed her fists with an ever-increasing desperation as the ties were looped through the opening of the rough wood of the wheel, then around her delicate wrists, before being threaded back through around the rim, and pulled securely tight. The girl’s shoulders were pulled back, thrusting her pert and firm breasts out towards the avaricious crowd.

With a savage cry and a delighted whoop, the young braves seized Kate’s slender legs, and spread them in a wide ‘V’. She caught a glance of the Chief’s grinning face, arms folded, erection pushing at his loin cloth. With a simple wave of his hand he was brought the remnants of Kate’s cotton drawers, torn asunder … ripped from her body. He moved towards the elderly squaw, Sun Deer.

“For you old one. A trophy of this day! The she-devils covering! Akaka will die naked.”

Kate almost threw up!

Chief Wolf cackled with perverse glee as he handed the garment to the squaw. Sun Deer accepted the offering, inhaling the musky scent from the thin material. She set the drawers down, picked up a knife, and began carving the fabric into pieces, a ritual in memory of her fallen son, entreating the great spirit to give the she-devil an excruciatingly agonising death.

Secured spread-eagled to the large wheel, and on display for all to see, Kate flexed her ankles and wriggled her toes. The leather thongs bit deeply into her body, lashed as she was to the rim of the wheel. Her inner thigh muscles twitched as she felt the cool air blowing through the parted folds of her labia, still swollen from the nettle pulp. Kate raised her head high, looked into the sun for a brief second and blinked. Her long dark hair fell over her forehead. She threw back her neck and screamed, “Fuck you all, you savage bastards! FUCK YOU ALL!”

Her ferocious growl of defiance excited her captors.

Chief Wolf could feel the sticky drops of precum anointing his inner thighs as his cock continued to stiffen. His young, nubile torture toy was spread tightly, vulnerable and helpless. Every curve of her perfectly proportioned body was on erotic display, and openly available to him.

The tribal leader picked up the basket filled with cactus needles and moved to the place where Kate was bound. He gazed into her dazed eyes, seeing the fear and anguish that lie within her. Placing the basket on a nearby rock, the Chief’s large hands reached out and touched Kate’s breasts, his fingers slowly exploring the nubile expanse of firm flesh. His ran his digits through the rivulets of sweat that glistened in the widened valley between her sensual curves. He caressed and embraced her, cupping, inspecting … thumb flicking at the already hardened nipples.

Kate groaned and turned her head to one side, looking away, and so she did not see when Chief Wolf turned his own gaze to the nearby basket of evil looking spines. He took out several. Some were longer than others, long spines culminating in points so fine as to almost vanish from sight, while others flared wider to almost knife-like blades. All broadened at their bases.

The Chief as he sifted through the basket contents. Mixed between the cactus needles were some finely honed pieces of deer antler that were shaped like crescent moons, coming to sharp points at both ends.

He looked up and saw the smile of pride on Painted Horse’s face. The young warrior was very skilled. He wanted so badly to play a role in the torture of his people’s enemies, and carving the antler shards was the way that he did it.

“Please, whatever you … do not …” Kate still pleaded, but she already knew that whatever she said and anything she implored them to consider, was not being listened to.

Chief Wolf nodded his approval, much to Painted Horse’s delight, and lifted up one of the crescent carvings for all to see. Nods and sounds of endorsement emanated from the tribe’s people. Their leader turned back to regard the bound girl, who now pulled wildly at her bondage, the awful realisation of what he was about to do, filling her head with a terror the likes of which she had never before known.

Using his thumb and index finger he gripped Kate’s right nipple and placed the point of the deer bone at the areola. He pressed the point into the flesh, feeling the entire breast tense. He pushed it further watching it enter until a droplet of blood appeared.

He looked into Kate’s face. She stared back at him, her breathing ragged and deep in an attempt to control the pain that was flowing freely around her body. But she could not do this for long and when he pushed the sharpened bone deeper and up through the resistant flesh behind the nipple … Kate screamed.

Chief Wolf then shifted its direction to arch downward and with a final thrust, the bone emerged from the other side of her nipple, piercing the surface of the areola.

Kate’s scream died out and left her gasping for desperate breaths. The area around her nipple was already swollen and bruised as blood gathered under the surface.

Chief Wolf moved to her other breast, the left one. He gripped and, twisted having visualised the progression of the cruel bone through the young girl’s beautiful chest and in two short thrusts achieved the same design.

Once again Kate’s whole body tensed and drew in a large gasp of oxygen. Then a piercing, feral-like scream rent the air as she yelled out her appalling agony. Her nipple swelled and blood dripped. Chief Wolf wiped the red drips with his fingers, mixed it with the perspiration from her body and licked it from his hands.

He gestured to Painted Horse and the boy moved nervously forward. Chief Wolf put his arms on the boy’s shoulder and pushed him to face Kate.

“See boy! Your skill has adorned the breasts of the white captive. Her body now tastes the skill of Painted Horse.”

The young Chickasaw beamed with pride and stared at the firm breasts now decorated with the downward sloping crescents of his sharpened deer bones. Kate closed her eyes and let her head drop.


To Be Continued ...
 

Attachments

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
This was only a test to observe your endurance
Only a test????
"This was only a test. If it had been a real emergency, you would...."
“Leave me alone! You’re nothing but savages!”
That's the way! Try to connect sympathetically with your captors to get them to be gentle with you.
“Fuck you all, you savage bastards! FUCK YOU ALL!”
I repeat, interesting strategy.
“Please, whatever you … do not …”
It might be too late for that. See above.
Using a deerskin rag to protect her hand, she applied some of the juice to Kate’s mound, and then deeper between her labia.
Note to Chief (and all males here): you might want to reconsider any plans of dipping your tool in her honeypot!
 
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