Captive Long Hair Soldier Girl
Copyright© 2016 by Tony Sorrentino
Western Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Life in the hands of bloodthirsty savages for the widow of a U.S. Cavalry officer.
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Slavery Western Spanking Rough Light Bond Humiliation Torture Group Sex Interracial White Female Indian Male Oral Sex Anal Sex Public Sex Violent
Running Wolf never set much store by any kind of female. He was strictly a man's man and a female's foolishness and devious tricks made him too angry for logical words. At least that was his opinion until he came into possession of a young blond Cavalry Officer's wife that that been captured after a battle that resulted in the razing of Fort McDonald from the maps of Indian Territory.
They retired the colors of that defeated unit just to remove the memory of the disturbing loss to a group of uneducated and poorly armed savages with no military training at all. The officer-in-charge was relegated to dusty mention in history books but never again spoken of in the Officer's Mess. There was a fair share of womenfolk and young ones that survived the debacle but they were immediately set upon by the Indian female followers that made a misery of their tattered minds and bodies. The children were sold off to some Mexican adventurers that furnished the Indians with enough repeating rifles to make a difference in the battle even though most of the hostiles were only armed with hatchets and bows. It was the sort of battle where a handy Tomahawk was the weapon of choice when push came to shove.
Running Wolf was not exactly certain how he became saddled with the responsibility for the Long-Haired Blonde female captive but when he awoke from a muddled sleep resulting from celebrating with the captured whiskey from the Sutler's shop, there she was chained to the boulder in the middle of the buffalo hide tent. He didn't remember why she was there or how she had gotten the two black eyes and the cut on her head where someone had started taking her scalp while she was still alive.
His second wife Squatting Beaver filled him in on the particulars with a deep ugly scowl on her usually pretty young face.
"You fight with Soaring Hawk about this stinking creature from the White Man's Fort because he was lifting her hair to punish her for not spreading her legs for him. Now she belongs to us because you are so foolish. The women from his family will never speak to me again and I wanted their son to marry our daughter Singing Raven."
Running Wolf was certain he must have been drunk because he didn't remember any of it at all. The white woman looked at him with her black eyes and he thought she looked more like a badger than any other animal that came to mind. He called her Badger girl from that point on and the others smiled at his little joke because of her funny face looking so sad and serious in the poor light of the overcast rainy day.
He poked her with his walking stick and she hunched down lower protecting her private parts. It made him laugh because he could just imagine the young braves introducing her to the Indian way of captivity and complete loss of any sense of dignity or self-respect. He didn't have any problem with that agenda because it made a lot of sense in the confrontational atmosphere of the American frontier in the mid-eighteen hundreds. The concept of taking captives and punishing them at will was a way of life for all of the Indian tribes and now they were pitted against the dreaded settlers that were trying to steal their lands.
The captives were the slaves that did most of the work around the camp. They were all loose and generally not tied up but this white woman was a trouble maker from the very first night of her captivity. She was not cooperative in spreading her legs and giving comfort to the warriors and she often spoke without being spoken to first. The braves formed a line to punish her for her reluctance and held her down to accept their weight on her back. The wives found it all so funny that they laughed at her wails of despair and beat her with their small sticks with the burrs on the end.
Now he had this skinny white woman package in his tent and he didn't even find her attractive enough to mount with some degree of anticipation. He invited his first wife's brother to sample the girl just to show his wives that he still had control over the situation. It was unfortunate he had the responsibility because it certainly detracted from the harmony in his usually peaceful home.
Grey Eagle bared the girl's flanks and they all laughed at the whiteness of her skin. It was so ugly that some of the little ones slapped her hard with their tiny hands to show their distaste for her existence. She was more offended than injured and when Grey Eagle straddled her hips to take his stance, the girl put her head down into the blanket and hid her face so they couldn't see her disgust. The sound of her training was not at all reassuring to Running Wolf because he didn't stand to gain anything but grief from the girl's presence in his home.
It was obvious to his wives that Grey Eagle was enjoying the tableau a bit too much for their liking and they kicked some dirt on the girl's feet and hands just to show their dislike for her ugly body. Running Wolf began to worry about Grey Eagle's health because the older man was panting from his exertions on the Cavalry Officer's wife's naked backside plumbing her depths like she was some mine filled with the yellow metal that the white men valued so much they were willing to kill each other to get more and more. The old man threw back his head and howled like an animal caught in a trap. He jabbered about how tight the white woman was and he slapped her legs and hips to show his enjoyment of her constant squirming. She lifted her head momentarily right at the moment that he must have fired off his salvo of savage spunk into her gut and looked around for some semblance of sympathy but found only smug satisfaction at her discomfort.
To say the least, it was disconcerting to Margaret Hatcher, widow of the recently murdered Captain Harry Hatcher and she knew her future looked dim indeed.
When Grey Eagle was finished with the captive, he pushed her back into the shadows of the corner and she curled up into a little ball trying her best to hide her blackened eyes and her torn skin right at the edge of her scalp. That was a reminder to her that her cooperation was probably the best way to survive this ordeal and she put aside all of her biases about the Native Americans and did her level best to just see them as fellow human beings even if they did act like insensitive savages with no consideration for female dignity.
Early the next morning, Margaret was sent out with Running Wolf's second wife to collect armloads of firewood to keep some warmth in the small tent. The weather was still filled with the remnants of the harsh winter and she didn't see any respite of the chill anytime soon. She hoped that the wives would allow her under the blanket pile now that she had given the males what they wanted in the dark of the unlighted tent.
Margaret was desperate for a wash in the cold waters of the running stream choked with small chunks of ice floating down from the foothills in the distance. It would be a shock to her system but she needed to clean the vestiges of the capture and her ill use by the male savages on a continual basis ever since they lashed her wrists together with joyful whoops of glee.
Her best friend Molly McGuire the wife of the Sergeant Major was raped right in front of her to show her how bad the treatment might become if she didn't cooperate. Poor Molly was not granted a reprieve because she distressingly overweight and the Indians considered her a burden on their stressful lifestyle. She had two small daughters that were traded to the Mexicans and ever since that moment, Molly had no desire to remain in this world any longer. She certainly didn't want to wind up like Molly and was surprised at her near brush with death because she hesitated to open her knees for a drunken savage with evil intent on his mind. She vowed she would not make that mistake again since it was of no import how many of the savages availed themselves of her worldly flesh just as long as they didn't rob her of her life in the taking.
They found ample heaps of firewood and hustled it back to the camp as quickly as possible because the second wife wanted to make a second trip to insure they had enough for the next few days that promised to be filled with feasting with a supposed "friendly" tribe from land beyond the foothills. She sensed that the wives and most of the men were skeptical of the "friendly" nature of the other tribe because they had apparently been murdering each other only recently and now this shaky union of the tribes was contrived to fight the superiority of the encroaching white settlers from far away.
Margaret did her best to cover her sore tummy and her privates from the beating that the second wife gave her because she was too slow in returning with the second load of firewood. She knew that she had carried at least twice the weight of firewood on her sturdy back and that the smaller woman knew she had met her match in strength and endurance. It was so obvious that even Running Wolf nodded his head in respect for her strength and agility. It was a well-known fact back at the now defunct Fort that Margaret was a fine shot with the long gun and that she was a superior horsewoman.
In the back of her mind, she knew that if she got near a free horse, she would be able to skedaddle so fast that the Indians wouldn't even see her dust. Until that time, she was willing to follow every instruction and do any deed no matter how dirty or depraved that they forced her to do. Her purpose was to survive until she could secure her own freedom because she was certain there was no rescue party being formed anytime soon.
The visiting tribe was mostly male with just a few females taken along to carry heavy loads like pack mares at the rear. Those females were previously captured females mostly of Mexican or Indian origin with only a handful of white women in the group. Margaret stayed clear of them because she knew Running Wolf was looking for an excuse to beat her and then force her to his will as an example for the other captives on proper behavior. She was determined not to give him the opportunity and vowed to be a model prisoner in every respect.
The thing she had not anticipated was that she would be selected to get thrown to the visiting males like a piece of meat to be devoured just to satisfy their hungry loins. In retrospect, she could appreciate the fact that they would not want to offer up their own wives and daughters for nocturnal humping because that would far too demeaning for their reputation.
It could have been worse because she only had to perform for three savages and they were a blur of arms and legs and demanding probing male flesh that gave her no respite for most of the hours of darkness. When she returned to the tent, she was allowed to curl up in the corner and sleep because they all knew the demands of "midnight meat" for the visiting guests.
They were all happy to see the departure of the visiting tribe because there was a sense of unease about their true agenda. Besides, old habits are hard to break and the animosities of the past were hard to forget easily.