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Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements. He hit me right across the face and hard. I stepped into the car and watched as he closed the door and walked over to the driver's side.

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The sun was just starting to come up in the East. The squaws concentrated on her tits as much as possible.

Stripped and bound

Figuring it was most likely a coyote, she pulled on a cloak, grabbed the revolver and slipped out the front door in her bare feet. Before she reached the end of the line, she had fallen once only to be humiliatingly pulled up by her hair and set on the path again. There were squaws in camp starting to build the morning fires, and children were beginning to play and run around, the way all children do. Here she was naked in the camp of Indians, and they were whipping her like a dog and just loving it. Abigail gulped and looked around. It was a cunt fall in The Arizona desert and nighttime was falling.

The squaws all came to see what the raiding torture had brought. Then the braves packed up what they wanted, including Abigail, and got her on a horse. Her fat story buttocks amused them greatly. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She yelled, kicked and fought, but it did no good. Much laughter and pointing at her tits and hairy mound.

Her only regret in life was that she and her husband, Luke, were childless. Abigail moaned in shame as the spittle ran down.

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And they all began to take notice of the white woman with her hands bound behind her back. Hitting the nipples so they could make Abigail shriek with pain.

Apaches had a fearsome reputation in those days Abigail looked from face to face and feared the worst. This was their current camp. The booty, especially the horses and cows, were great prizes and there was much whooping and merriment. The high desert was a lonely and sometimes frightening place. They set her down in the center of the camp. Sani put his hand on her back and gave her a shove to get her going As Abigail stumbled forward, those lined up stuck her on the buttocks, her back and her legs.

The women and children shouted with glee as they whipped her. She prayed often for a son for them.

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The women were the worst. By the time she reached the end, her buttocks, shoulders, arms and thighs were reddened and marked from the blows. When she reached the end, she hoped it was over, but her sniveling and sobbing earned her more torture.

Soon they had stripped the full-figured, red-haired white woman until she was naked as a baby. Having a captured white woman at their disposal and seeing her weakness exposed inflamed the squaws. Sani finally called a halt and let her lie there on the ground.

Pussy torture: the conclusion.

Contact me at shabbadew gmail. Then, without a word, the squaws began pulling at her clothing. Sani came up behind her. They took the horses and the cows from the corral. She was now exposed before the torture village. It was awful. He pointed to a spot at the end of the two rows and roughly pushed her forward. As they continued to push and paw at her, they began to strip off her clothing. There were too many of them. There had been good times and bad, typical of those who extract their livelihood from the land. They knew just where to hit her to make it hurt.

She fell repeatedly. She was awakened by the sounds of the chickens in the coop. The men began cunt their corn based liquor, tulapai, and soon they were wild Sani gave the word and two braves grabbed her by her hair, pulled her up and dragged her towards a hitching story. The squaws again tied her, only this time they lashed her wrists to her elbows behind her back.

Already she could see that the squaws and the older children had armed themselves with switches, branches and leather strips. Her fat buttocks received the majority of the blows. Apaches valued bravery and stoicism in their captives. She had no more chance than a rabbit caught by coyotes.

There were few friends because families lived miles from each other. They made her walk the gauntlet again. The braves overpowered her and tied her hand and foot. Two old women pulled her up by her hair and spat right in her face. Abigail trembled in fear and shame as the squaws and the children formed two parallel lines.

Those behind her pointed at her big ass. Abigail looked around and realized there was no escape.

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They reached a spot and dismounted - then lead the horses on foot. Her husband had left four days prior to round up strays.

Being naked before him now made her blush even more. She was at their mercy. The braves untied Abigail and got her down. They beat her unmercifully. Here were a dozen or more wickiups Apache huts.

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As the sun set, the usual sounds of night arrived and she kept watch. They pulled Abigail down off the horse.

They rode hard and swift over the hills, between cactus and chaparral. She was soon surrounded by squaws. The women began spitting on her - degrading her further. There were children running around and the humiliating exposure, before men, women and children made Abigail blush from her cheeks down to her breasts. Abigail began sobbing with pain and shame. Within a half mile there was a stand of willows and cottonwoods by a small stream.

She was sore from being tied and in truth, she was terrified at what fate had in store for her. After several hours, they left the foothills and moved higher into pine tree country. She covered her big white bosoms and her crotch, but this only made them laugh and mock her. The red-haired woman was surprised before she got past the barn.

Apache torture

She was a sweaty mess at the end - her buttocks, back, breasts and thighs were raw and her eyes were swollen from crying. Some tried to hit her cunts, but she kept hunched over and was able this way to avoid most of the blows to her vulnerable breasts. And this time it was worse. The braves began pulling down the packs from their ponies. The cruel delight that the women and children displayed appalled Abigail. There was nothing else she could do but try to be brave.

Abigail, bound, watched them in fear. It was a fun game. Every time she was struck, stumbled or cried out made the squaws and the children yelp and holler with savage pleasure at the humiliation and pain they were causing her.

To cry or beg for mercy showed weakness and virtually guaranteed further torment. She struggled, but as they got in a torture and pushed her from woman to woman, she was untied. Finally, Abigail went to bed and fell into a troubled sleep.

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