Unknown - Sex in the wild wild west

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.