Captive Travelers (15 page)

Aubrey lowered the sleeping fur and gasped.
Holy shit.
She vaguely remembered a most pleasurable fullness, but she had been so in heat that she had no real idea of his size. Nashoba folded his hands under his head, and he watched in silent amusement while Wacasa stared openly at his cock. It twitched when her fingers reached for him.

There was already a slick drop of precum glistening on the tip. Aubrey realized Nashoba was just as anxious to feel her, and she filled with a strange sense of pride. He was the chief’s son. He could choose any woman in the tribe that he wanted, but it was obvious by the male signature of his teepee that he had no lover living in his tent. She spread the oozing droplets with her fingertip and looked up at him. “Did you take me because you had to?”

Nashoba shrugged. “The shaman said you were mine. We do not question the spirit guides, though their wisdom does not mislead us. You are mine because it is right and meant to be.”

Aubrey did not understand how they could have unfailing belief in their mystical methods, but she did realize that Nashoba would not question the decision that brought them together. She lowered the furs further down his legs, and her fingertips brushed down his long, thick shaft to the heavy weighted sacks below his cock. She lifted one pouch with her hand and squeezed lightly, while she brushed her thumb across the surface.

Her other hand rested on his hip while she lowered her head to taste him. She felt his hand wrap into her hair, and he pulled the curtain of gold back so that he could watch. The first stroke of her tongue across his broad soft crown made his shaft quiver, and she took her hand off his hip and wrapped it around his cock. Her other hand continued to explore his testicles, while she nipped gently and slid her hand up and down his stiff column.

Aubrey’s tongue teased around the sensitive ridge of his bulbous helmet, and she smiled when he hissed, “Wacasa.” It was a sound she was learning to enjoy and equate with his pleasure. Her mouth filled with his leaking crown, while her hands pumped and stroked with gentle caressing movements. As his excitement and need grew, she felt her own body responding with desire. This was something she rarely experienced when she concentrated on using her mouth and hands to pleasure her partner. She was becoming just as aroused as Nashoba, and she squeezed her thighs together.

Aubrey sucked and licked at the salty fluid tinged with a taste of wild herbs. She felt his hand thread through her hair and he pushed down, forcing more of his length into her mouth. Aubrey felt his balls become tighter and impossibly more full. His cock began to throb beneath her fingers, and she waited until his breathing became raspy and his fist tightened in her hair.

Aubrey found the thin skin beneath his balls and pressed. He gripped her hair in a strong fist and pushed down until his cock hit the back of her throat. Aubrey fought the panic of having him lodge deeper, and she released her pressing fingers. Nashoba groaned when he felt his seed rush from his sacks and into his cock. He had never experienced such a feeling, and he continued to grip her head while he thrust his strong hips off the furs.

The copious fluid filled her mouth, causing her to retch one time as she tried to swallow. Some of the hot, sticky fluid felt as though it spewed directly down her throat. When she finished, she licked his cock thoroughly and knelt up. Aubrey looked down at the face of an extremely satisfied man, and she smiled. Her pussy demanded attention, but she knew that it would have to wait a while.

Nashoba’s face slowly spread to a smile. It was not the cruel visage of the sadistic leers she had seen on the journey. Somehow, Aubrey felt certain this was not a look many people had ever witnessed. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners, and his white teeth shined against his bronze face. His fingers trailed through the end of her hair. “The spirits are
very
wise, Wacasa.” Aubrey gave him a nervous smile in return.

He rose and walked towards the fire ashes, and Aubrey gaped at the tight muscles of his ass and thighs.
Good god, he’s gorgeous.
She fought the desire to grip his ass, and she pictured the muscles flexing when he thrust into her.

“Come, Wacasa,” he motioned without turning. Aubrey rose and knelt beside him by the stone pit. He taught her how to add small bits of cow chips mixed with hay to the dying embers, and blow softly until it burst into flame.

He showed her where he kept different supplies for their food. “My mother will help you learn these things.” After they ate, he retrieved a bone comb and ran it through his hair. Aubrey used it to untangle the knots in her own mane, and she braided the length over her shoulder. Nashoba handed her a small strip of leather to bind it at the end. He was silently pleased that she would not share the full golden sun of her tresses with others.

This was another concern that Nashoba was thinking about. Captives, except in the winter settlement, were kept naked to humiliate them. He was feeling an uncharacteristic jealousy about Wacasa, and he was not sure he wanted the other men of the tribe to enjoy her beauty.

Leotie saw the smoke from her son’s teepee. She waited for a while, and then walked over to the tent. “Nashoba, is Wacasa well this morning?” She smiled when she heard the girl gasp and scramble inside the tent.

Nashoba tied on his breechclout, and he smiled while he watched Wacasa grab a fur. “Join us, mother,” he called out.

Leotie looked around the tent. The girl was untied and sitting by the fire with a sleeping fur wrapped around her. Nashoba was not ordering her to let go of it, and Leotie looked around for signs of the struggle she felt certain the frightened woman would have caused when her restraints were removed. Everything was in place, and there were signs of a recently eaten meal. She looked at Nashoba again. His stern countenance seemed lighter, and she almost gasped when he actually smiled at her.

“I am glad you are here. There is something I need to ask you. Come sit by the fire with us.”

Nashoba sat beside Wacasa, and Leotie watched the girl slip her hand into his. Her eyes were wary, and Leotie smiled when she sat down. “It does not look like you need the spirit women’s help to further your need for my son.”

Aubrey felt her face turn bright red. “No, ma’am.”

“You may call me Leotie, Wacasa.”

Nashoba’s shoulders relaxed. Captives did not call the Indians by informal greetings. “Mother, I need to ask permission to have Wacasa clothed.”

Leotie heard unfamiliar hesitation in his voice.

“I will not let her leave the teepee to do chores until it is granted,” he declared.

Leotie stared silently at him. She had never heard him sound unsure.

“It… it is not necessary… if she is mine… that I allow her to seduce the other warriors with her body.”

Leotie continued to stare. Her brave warrior son was actually stuttering excuses. There was almost a look of panic in his eyes.

“I… I want her…”

“I will lend her clothes until she is taught to sew her own,” Leotie quickly replied. She was completely shocked by Nashoba’s manner. “You will have to hunt for skins, and I will teach her to tan them and stitch them together,” Leotie said. She was speechless at the swiftness of her son’s bonding with the captive.

Aubrey had not considered that she might have had to walk through the village nude. She looked up at Nashoba, and smiled uneasily. “Thank you, Nashoba.” She looked over to the woman who had tormented her. “I will try to learn quickly, Leotie. Thank you.”

“There will be a lot for you to learn, Wacasa. It is important that you follow Nashoba’s orders. This is not the world you are used to, and there are dangers you do not understand.”

Aubrey nodded. She asked quietly, “Will I be able to see my friends?”

Nashoba put his arm around her. “Their path with us is very different from yours, Wacasa. But, just as the spirit guides know that your place is with me, their place will also be right for them. They did not have the benefit of spirit women to help prepare them, and it will take much longer for them to understand and accept their place. I will not allow you near them until they have fitted into the tribe.”

“They won’t kill Kayla, will they?” Aubrey’s eyes filled with tears, and Nashoba felt a tug in his chest at her distress. “What she said was true. Bobby was not a warrior like you. There was no pride or truth in him. I think whatever Indian heritage he possessed was forgotten a long time ago.”

“We know,” Leotie replied.

Aubrey stared at her in shocked surprise. “Then why is Kayla being…” Aubrey felt Nashoba’s arm tighten around her.

“Hush, Wacasa. It is time to concentrate on your own journey with the Wehali, just as your friends must learn their own way with us. It is enough that you know that your friends will have a place with us.”

Leotie stood up and smiled. “I will find clothes for you so that Nashoba is willing to let you leave this tent and let the sun shine on your face again.”

When she left, Aubrey became very aware of the man holding her. She was leaking desire for him again, and figured she had waited long enough. Nashoba watched her green eyes narrow and her tongue slide across her lips. Her passion was building, and he decided to deny her. Eventually, her hand released his and lay casually on his thigh.

“You have no woman’s things in here,” Aubrey said.

“I have you,” he answered.

The tone of his deep voice ended that line of discussion, and her coy attempts at seducing the Indian were getting her nowhere, expect building an even greater need to be fulfilled within her as she thought about his cock slipping inside her. Just as she was preparing to make her attentions more demanding, Leotie returned with an armful of leather.

“These should fit, for now.” Leotie handed them to Wacasa, and turned to her son. “Paytah would like to speak with you and Tocho. I will take Wacasa down to the stream to wash up, and she can go with me to the field this morning.” Leotie was not concerned the white woman would run. Her bigger concern was allowing her to roam through the village until she stumbled onto her friends.

Wacasa slipped on the soft leather shift and pulled on knee high moccasins. Well rested and not quite as frightened, she studied the village in more detail while they walked to the stream. People stared, and she was certain they were talking about her, but no one approached them. After washing at the bank of the stream, Leotie led her to the field and had her help fill a leather sack with dried buffalo chips. Aubrey spent the morning watching the other Indian women make their way across the field to collect fuel for their fires. The work in the hot sun helped keep her mind off her body’s need to be sated, but she still hoped to be alone with the handsome savage soon.

Chapter VII

Cici had spent a comfortable night curled up beside Ganali. As long as she was left alone with the woman and sequestered from the men, she thought she might be all right. Her legs and hands continued to ache, and she did not understand the need for the restraints.

In the morning, Awi filled the trough with the sweet gruel. Cici and Ganali lumbered over to it, and Ganali sat nervously on her haunches, eyeing the mash while Waka began to lap softly. Waka knelt up with a confused expression, wondering why the other girl was not eating. It occurred to her that she was waiting for permission, after hogging most of their dinner. Cici smiled and nodded her head to the food. Ganali exhaled with relief, and bent to begin eating.

The two girls continued to lap up their own sides of the trough, and gradually they moved towards the middle. Their wide hips touched, and Cici felt a twinge of arousal. Their heads were next to each other, and their ears were touching as they got to the last of the meal. Cici swiped at Ganali’s tongue for the last lick the girl had managed to swipe from the bottom of the trench.

Ganali was surprised and began to giggle, and their open-mouthed parry for the last bit of gruel passed the pasty substance back and forth. Awi and Tala watched from the shade of the tarp. Happy cows were productive animals, so the Indians let Waka and Ganali finish playing.

Ganali was led to her milking, and Cici crawled over to the tarp when she saw the other woman being led back to the pen. She did not balk at being attached to the bench, and opened her mouth to accept the sweet potion. There was a small amount of the sleeping juice added. It was keeping her calmed and not yet completely able to comprehend her situation.

Soquila stood behind her, and her bottom quivered until she recognized Awi’s fingers stroking her slit. Waka closed her eyes and found to her amazement that it was Ganali’s face she saw instead of Jenny’s. It was hard for her to bring the vision of her frail lover to mind, and her form kept changing to the voluptuous soft curves of the woman waiting in the pen.

Waka imagined it was Ganali’s tongue stroking her folds and wiggling her clit. Cream slipped out of her passage and she felt a finger reach inside of her. She moaned when a second finger began to plunge, still closing her eyes and sucking the sweet maple fluid from the skin. A thicker fullness pushed into her pussy, while a finger kept stroking her clit. Cici began pushing her hips into the invasion, gasping and moaning with delight. She still pictured Ganali’s soft body caressing her bottom, while her channel gripped the thrusting intrusion. Her heavy thighs quivered and she let out a groan, stiffening her back and raising her bottom against Soquila’s groin.

It was not until after her orgasm that Cici realized the Indian had been plunging his cock into her. Tears of confusion and embarrassment coursed down her cheeks. Awi knelt in front of her and pushed her brown curls away from her face.

“It is all right, Waka. Your duties to the tribe include caring for the younger men, but you will always be penned with Ganali at night. You will never be left alone with any of the braves.”

Cici looked up at the Indian through miserable wet eyes. They knew her secret, but they did not seem to condemn her for it. Awi smiled and continued stroking her forehead. “It will be good that the two of you have each other. Ganali had a difficult owner, and she will appreciate your friendship. You understand we will not let the men hurt you, Waka. You are much too important to our tribe.”

Cici was still confused, and her face turned red when she felt Soquila’s hand caress her bottom. “Do not let the other bucks use her until she is used to me.”

“I think that is best, for now,” Awi agreed. She removed Waka from the milking stand, and noticed a bluish white drop on the end of her nipple. She was producing much quicker than Ganali had done, and she would be providing her first milk within days. It was time to wean her off the sleeping juice or the milk would be of no use.

In the afternoon, Tala and Awi led the cows to the stream to bathe. They tethered Waka’s ankles, released the thigh straps and removed the mittens. “Do not touch the ring,” Awi warned her. “If you do, I will put the mittens back on you and it will be hard for you to wash.”

Waka followed Ganali into the warm, shallow water, and they rolled on the sand on the bottom. The clean flowing water felt good, and Cici was happy to be stretching her muscles. When she sat up, she felt Ganali rub sand on her back. She returned the favor, and it ended up in a splashing contest and the girls played until the Indian women ordered them back to shore.

Cici followed Ganali’s example, and patiently waited to have the restraints put back on. It seemed like a minor inconvenience when compared to some of the other situations she might find herself. The two women slept away the rest of the afternoon in their pen, under the shade of the oak tree.

Across the village, Kayla jerked her head up when she heard the chief and the shaman approaching her. She began to tremble, and she searched the small gathering of warriors for Ahiga. He stood by himself, off to the side, his dark eyes staring at her.

The shaman removed the two skins from inside her. Kayla’s eyes widened. She realized she was left completely aroused, and needing to rub against his fingers. The shaman smiled. It was the same concoction that had been infused into Wacasa. He wanted to make sure the girl would not turn Ahiga away. He reached down to release an ankle restraint, and Ahiga walked forward. “You must wait your turn, Ahiga,” the shaman said. “Tocho has seniority for Urika’s first use.”

Ahiga stood straight and he glared at the other men in defiance. He had never spoken or done anything that was a disruption to the tribe’s rituals, but within his spirit he knew his decision was right. He clenched his fists by his sides. “The raven is mine,” Ahiga declared. “I have brought her to the village and cared for her.” It was the only justification he could think of. His eyes darted nervously towards Chief Paytah. He could be shunned from the tribe by disregarding the shaman’s reading.

Tocho saw his chance to enter the game of the warrior’s deception. “You have let the raven seduce you.”

Ahiga’s fists clenched. “You say I am weak, Tocho?”

“You are not the first warrior she has manipulated,” Soquila baited.

Ahiga turned to the trainer. It seemed that all of the men on the gathering journey, except Nashoba, were going to fight for their right to use his raven. “I do not believe Hehewuti,” Ahiga replied. The shaman had released the girl’s ankles, and Ahiga reached to remove the wrist restraints.

The shaman stood back, and said, “The raven claw was turned towards the knife tip for salvation.”

Kayla felt her wrists freed, and she collapsed weakly onto Ahiga’s chest. He guided her slowly to the ground, and Kayla wrapped her arms around his calf and hid behind him. She was terrified that she would be given to the men. “Please, Ahiga,” she begged in a hoarse whisper.

Ahiga looked down into her beautiful blue eyes. “You are mine, Wyonet.”

The shaman said, “So… you think it is
you
who is the knife, Ahiga?”

“I
am
the Fighter,” he bellowed. His fists clenched again, and he bowed his chest in warning. “Do any of you challenge me for the raven?”

Tocho walked forward.

“You cannot fight for her. You already have a white woman,” Ahiga said.

“I will challenge for her,” Kohana said. When he met with the others who had journeyed to the farm and they had agreed upon the ruse against the Fighter and the raven, he had drawn the long straw for the right to match his strength against Ahiga. It would be a good fight that would earn him notice within the tribe. Even though all of this had been prearranged, the warriors admitted they doubted any of them could win against Ahiga anyway.

Kohana handed his knife to Tocho. The fight would be with fists and strength. Ahiga handed his blade to the chief, and Kayla’s fingers trembled when Ahiga pulled out of her grip to circle around the other Indian. The other man was younger, and he had muscles every bit as impressive as Ahiga’s. Kayla found herself begging silently for Ahiga to win, and she contemplated joining her warrior in the fight to beat the other Indian.

Twice, the younger man swept Ahiga’s legs out from under him; and once a fist landed on his jaw and split his lip. Ahiga had a thin line of blood seeping down his chin. The shaman, chief, and Tocho, watched the raven’s face. She cried silently and watched the fight. It was obvious her loyalty lay with their lonely fighter.

Ahiga landed a sharp blow against Kohana’s cheek, and the young Indian dropped to the ground, unconscious. Ahiga stood tall, his panting rib cage jutting towards the chief. “The raven is mine,” he declared.

The chief nodded. “What will you name her?” Obviously, Urika… Useful to All… was no longer appropriate. He and the shaman had had a good laugh over choosing a most repulsive name… one that would remind the Fighter what was at stake.

“Wyonet,” Ahiga said loudly.
Let them dare to challenge that his raven is beautiful.

Ahiga walked over to Kayla, and he held down his hand to pull her to a stand. Ahiga pulled her tight against his side, and he ran his fingers over the weary wrinkles of her brow and through her black hair. He stared into her eyes and whispered, “Wyonet.” His beautiful raven was exhausted, and he continued to run his fingertips over the strained creases around her eyes. He brushed flakes of dried blood off her chin while the other warriors gaped at the unexpected gentleness from their cruel, vicious Fighter.

Ahiga guided her slowly to the side of the clearing where his horse waited. He swung his leg over the paint’s back, and pulled Kayla up behind him.

Kayla wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head against his shoulder. “Thank you, Ahiga.”

Ahiga felt her lips brush against his back. He let out a trilling war cry, and galloped his horse towards the hills. They rode through the tree line until they reached a small cave. Ahiga dismounted and pulled Kayla down. She waited while he unbridled the horse. “Won’t he run off?”

Ahiga shook his head. “He will wander for food, but he does not go too far.” He took her hand and led her to a shallow pool of water fed from a small waterfall further up the mountain. Ahiga sat on a boulder and watched her gingerly bathe the dirt, sweat and blood from her body. She rinsed her long hair and stood.

Ahiga stared at his captive. He had fought hard to win her, and he was proud she belonged to him. The shaman had never seen the sign of a wife in Ahiga’s casting, but in his youthful folly Ahiga had tried to gain the affection of the woman from the tribe in the south anyway. After her betrayal, Ahiga had never gone to the shaman for another casting.
This time, he saw the Fighter in Wyonet’s future.
Ahiga gazed at her slender body, her beautiful breasts, small waist, and firm bottom. She was his.

Water glistened and shined on her trembling skin. Her blue eyes were wary, and she walked slowly towards his outstretched hand. “Come, you need to eat and rest.” After so many years of solitude, it felt strange to be concerning himself with her. Ahiga’s balls had tightened with lust for her since he had released her from the cleansing poles.

Ahiga led her to his cave. Kayla flinched when he approached her jaw with his knife. He cut through the strip. “This will sting.” Ahiga pulled the thin strip free.

“Oh. Oh, shit that hurts,” Kayla gasped.

Ahiga grinned, and her insides turned to mush. He handed her a flask and she sipped. The liquid burned. “Liquor?”

“Very weak firewater with healing herbs so that the piercing does not get infected.” He pulled the flask away after she took another long drink. His hands cupped under her breasts, and he swung the black feathers hanging from her nipples. “I like these,” he said.

“I guess they look pretty neat. They don’t hurt any more.” Kayla wondered about the other one. She glanced at her lap.

“That one needs to go,” Ahiga decided.

Kayla blushed profusely as she spread her thighs. She grabbed the flask and chugged another drink. “Oh god. Go ahead.” She screamed when he pulled the thread free.

Ahiga chuckled and pulled her against his chest. “All done, Wyonet.

Kayla watched him build a fire, and she was pleased he did not say anything when she wrapped a fur around herself. Instead, he rose and walked towards the back of the cave. He returned and tossed a leather shift and moccasins into her lap. Ahiga had noticed Nashoba allowed Wacasa to be clothed. Kayla looked up at him in surprise, and he said, “They are old, and belonged to my mother. She says she will teach you to make your own when I bring her skins.”

“You knew you would win,” Kayla said as she slipped the dress on.

Ahiga shrugged. “I had more reason to fight. The knife tip is my sign… the shaman knows this.”

“Then why did they put us through this?” she asked.

“The tribe got a good show from us.”

“What?”

“They made their raven suffer and their fighter battle,” Ahiga explained.

“If the shaman knew that I was not at fault, how could my friends and I have been brought to this place?”

“You did have blame, or you would not have been designed by the raven claw and dog. I do not profess to know all of the ways of the spirits, but they knew that you belonged with me as much as they know that Wacasa belongs with Nashoba. Have you not sensed that your future was unsettled, as if your true path was out of reach? It was your meeting with Hehewuti that was the catalyst between our two worlds.” Ahiga handed her some meat he had been roasting over the fire.

Kayla thought about the strange sense the roommates shared that kept them indecisive about their education or forming relationships. “Do you ever wonder about the other world?”

“No.” He shrugged. “We have Indians who have crossed over, and they have told us their history and how the Indians’ land has been destroyed. I am happier to have been born here.”

“Where did the mounds… or the gateway… come from?”

Ahiga stirred the ashes with a stick. “They say it was created from the sorrow of the Trail of Tears. The Earth mother swallowed the teardrops, and she gave us the spirit world to ease our loss. She was not pleased with what the white man did to the protectors of her land.”