Unknown: Sex in the wild wild west

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?"