Captive Travelers (3 page)

Tokala stared down at her, and fisted the torn neckline of her dress when she tried to pull back. The Indian narrowed his eyes to a malicious glare, and he lifted his mouth on one side. “It means ox,” he sneered. “There is a lot of meat on you.”

Rebecca was too frightened to be embarrassed. Tokala grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed, pulling her over to a tree.
Oh… oh, god.
No amount of trying to move her mind to another place and time worked when his thin fingers bit deep into her soft flesh, mashing her nipple. She was completely in the current moment, surrounded by savages, and feeling the painful explosion of Tokala’s grip on her breast. “Aaah.”

Tokala smiled at her muffled scream and the panic in her eyes. He was truly a great warrior to have been rewarded with a captive of his own. Tokala was determined to show his tribe how much she feared him, and how well he could control her. He tied her leash to a branch, and returned to unbridle his horse.

Rebecca had barely managed to keep from sliding into hysterical panic. The relief of dulled shock seemed to cloak her mind again, and to push back the fear. She sat down and looked at the bruise forming on her breast. The shock slowly dissipated, allowing her terrified thoughts to return to what the Indian had done to Clara. Rebecca panicked and wailed behind the gag, trying to close her bodice with her shaking, bound hands.

“Ganali,” Tokala yelled angrily. Her eyes snapped up, and he shook his head. He put his hands in the center of his naked chest and pulled them apart. His meaning was clear: he wanted her to open her dress.

Rebecca dropped her hands to her lap, and one large breast sagged out of the ripped material. She stared at it and watched her tears fall on the bruising while muddied thoughts of churning butter, eating ice cream, watching Henry…
Oh, god.

“Ganali,” Tokala demanded. He made the same motions with his hands, but she could not move. He stormed back over to her, and reached down. Tokala gripped the material in both hands and ripped it to the waist. He pushed it back so that her bountiful breasts were exposed, pushed together by her arms, and seeming to explode from the torn calico. Rebecca was naked from her neck to her navel. She screamed and kicked out at him, and he looked down and laughed at her. Tokala stared proudly at her massive breasts for a moment. He puffed out his chest and walked back to the others, but they were ignoring his antics while they built a rough campsite and fire.

“They love to humiliate us,”
Clara’s voice echoed in warning.
“I think they like that, more than the other things.”
Clara had spent eight years as a captive to an Indian.

Rebecca lifted her tearing eyes and she studied Tocho. She remembered Clara’s gasp of recognition, and she realized that he must have been her captor. Tocho felt her looking at him, and he stared directly at her with absolutely no expression or emotion. Rebecca quickly dropped her eyes, thinking about the painful punishment Clara had endured.
You’re wrong, Clara. They like the ‘other’ things, too.

Rebecca sat in silence, her breasts bared to the savages and her large brown nipples tightening in the cool air. The Indians gnawed off bites of jerky and drank something from a leather flask. They were still talking about her, and several times they looked over. Many of the times the glances were accompanied by laughter, and her face flushed deeper in shame.

Tokala stood up and walked over to her again. Rebecca panicked and kicked him once, and then she tried to push back against the tree. “Ganali, let me see what it is I now own.” His eyes narrowed, and she began screaming behind the gag. Tokala grabbed the material at her waist, and he pulled.

The thin material ripped easily, and Rebecca realized that although he was not as big as the others he was still very strong. She kept kicking and screaming, batting and clawing with her hands, while he pulled the dress from her. The Indian kept smiling his cruel leer and clucking excitedly until she was naked.

Rebecca tried to curl her big thighs up to cover her pussy. There were six men staring at her. Some were laughing, and some looked as though they were getting aroused.
Oh god. It’s a dream. It’s all some crazy nightmare. None of this is real.
No matter how she tried, her fear would not allow her to claim the shocked numbness she was begging for.

“Ganali, up,” Tokala demanded, and began pulling on the leash.

Rebecca shook her head wildly, knocking off her cotton cap. Her hair was a mass of short, bleached, blonde curls. A heroine in one of her novels wore sassy blonde curls, and Rebecca decided it would suit her. Tokala pushed his fingers through the strands and pulled. There was a look of disgust on his face. “Why did you shave your head?”

Was it not bad enough that the shaman had announced he had pulled the bit of ox tail with the tooth of the fox?
Tokala was proud to be a rare warrior with a white woman of his own, even if she was an ox… but her shaven hair was an embarrassment. He took this as another insult to a warrior, as if she had planned it.

Rebecca shook her head, terrified of the Indian and trying to push him away, while he gripped her hair and forced to stand. He dragged her to the fire, with her feet giving way and her knees buckling. Tokala stood straight, keeping his fingers threaded through her short hair. “You see my ox?” he bragged. “This is Ganali.”

Tocho studied her for a moment. Like most his friends, Tocho did not understand why the shaman cast the fox tooth when so many warriors did not have a captive. He did not question the shaman’s reading, though the spirits had once more proven their signs were mysterious. He threw a small twig on the fire, and said, “You have a bald white ox, Tokala. She is a big beast for a fox.” The other Indians laughed.

Tokala’s eyes narrowed.
How dare they make fun of me? Tocho is the only one of them to be honored with a white woman of his own.
He bowed out his chest. “She is mine.”

“Easy, Tokala, we know Ganali belongs to you,” Tocho placated. He knew he had stepped over the line by suggesting the man could not handle her. Tokala was very strong and fast… for his size.

Tokala reached between Rebecca’s legs. Even with her thighs pressed together there was a generous mat of dark brown curls for him to grab. “Besides, she is not bald,” he laughed. He used her pussy hair as a handle, and she felt him deliberately rip out a few hairs. She shrieked while he pulled her towards a large bough stretched off the ground and lashed to boulders on the ends. “Come see my ox hole,” he taunted to his friends.

Tocho jumped up, and he pulled some leather strips from the pouch on his waist. One of the other Indians picked up a thin branch, and the other three followed his example. Apparently, Tokala was going to thank them for making the journey with him. As she was only an ox and belonged to Tokala and not the whole tribe, it was his right to share her.

Tokala hopped over the bough, leaving Rebecca on the other side. He began pulling the leash. She was sobbing and confused, and she tried to lift a leg to climb over. It was too high without the use of her hands. She felt the bark press into her thighs as he kept pulling until she began to bend forward, leaning her over the bough.

Oh please.
Rebecca wailed and begged muffled sounds behind the gag. She was terrified and in pain, with her breasts swinging on one side of branch and her wide ass facing the approaching Indians. She stared at the ground, watching shadows of the men stretch towards the boulders and trees in front of her, lengthening and disappearing into the darkness as they walked up behind her.

All her weight was on her belly, and it flared to the sides of the wood cutting into her soft skin. Rebecca felt a tugging on her wrists, and she managed to lift her head just enough to see Tokala tying her leash to the tree. She was stuck in the uncomfortable position, folded in half. Her head sagged and she stared at the ground while the men began to laugh again behind her. She continued to shriek and buck in terror.

“I think I will have fun taming my wild ox,” Tokala said. He slapped her bottom on the way over the bough.

Oh god. What are they doing? Oh god.
Rebecca tried to turn her head. She felt leather being wrapped around her ankles and she attempted to kick the hands away.
No, oh god.
She hung her head and wailed, looking under the bough and between her thighs while the Indians spread her legs and tied the ankle restraints to stakes in the ground.

Something hit her bottom and she shrieked. It burned, and felt like it had shredded her skin. She arched up, with her arms stretched in front of her. The strain on her back from lifting her breasts was agonizing.

The Indians liked the way her wide buttocks jiggled and the white skin marked up from the switches. Eventually, their cocks overrode their interest in lashing her. The white cheeks were quivering, but stilled in apprehension when Tokala stroked over the new pink welts. Rebecca began bucking furiously, as if trying to toss his hand away.

“She will give me a good ride, I think.” Tokala was rewarded with another shriek.

Rebecca felt his hands pull her fleshy labia open, and rough bony fingers dug into her slit. Her hips pumped wildly against the branch, scraping her belly against the bark. Two fingers pinched her clit, and the man said something to the others. She could imagine what he had told them, because even that nub had grown with her bulk. It was the size of the end of a thumb and severely sensitive. Rebecca was horrified when Tokala plucked at her clit and her body began to respond. Soon, she was wailing in embarrassment and trying to rub against his fingers.

“She flows with passion for me,” Tokala laughed, holding up his slick fingers for the others to see.

Oh, someone. Oh please, someone help me.
Rebecca felt his hands return to her cleft, and two fingers probed until they found her channel. The man plunged them in and out of her, keeping her juices running and lubricating her. One of his hands gripped into the flesh on her hip, while the other moved his breechclout aside and he centered his cock on her hole. Tokala pushed inside of her with two long thrusts, and she tightened her pussy around him in a vise and screamed.

His arm reached beneath them and he strummed the large nub. That had been a welcome surprise, and Tokala was no longer worried about her hair. That would grow, over time. He would make sure the tribe noticed her protruding bud. Her clit was an easily accessible bundle of nerves she was obviously compelled to acknowledge.

Tokala first, and then the rest, lifted their tented breechclouts and rammed their cocks into her pussy. Each plucked and rubbed her clit, bringing her to the edge of climax and laughing while her wide hips pumped in frustration. They did not let her orgasm, but kept her in aroused heat. Cum drooled down her thighs.

Rebecca was in such a heightened state of passion that her thoughts and nerves were consumed with the need to climax. She listened for the moccasin padded feet to whisper through the sand as a man approached, and anticipated talented fingers strumming her swollen bead. The elusive orgasm never washed through her, though she had a measure of relief squeezing the stiff hot cocks pushing into her.

Hours ago, Rebecca had let her mind drift to her favorite fantasy. It was the one she thought of when she used a nameless boy at school to cure her itch. It was the fantasy where she was beautiful and popular, and bound helplessly to be pleasured by good looking men. In her mind, the faces of the college studs and favorite actors were slowly replaced by the dark, handsome Indians. They began to blend together, and all of them were Tommy Windsong, proudly wearing his Indian leathers. Lost in the dark abyss with her fear and terror, was the face of the lean, cruel savage who owned her. The screams in her mind had finally ripped the fabric of her sanity.

Between her fear and the pain of being trussed up all night, and her coaxed, denied passion, she let her mind continue to drift and finally remain in the place of her dreams. Rebecca was finally the desirable one, and all the mysteriously handsome men who were Tommy, chose her. They were insatiable in their need to pleasure her, and she anticipated the touch of their hands. Throughout the night, the Indians fulfilled her passionate fantasy, and they used her whenever they woke up.

By dawn, she was sagging, and all she could do was whimper and flinch every time she was touched. Her blue eyes remained flat, and when Tokala removed the gag, she ate in silence. He pulled her behind his horse, the rest of the two-day journey to the village.

When Rebecca was led through the shallow stream beside the settlement, she was naked, filthy, and shocked. She still believed herself to be irresistible and beautiful. Rebecca’s mind did not accept the sight of the teepees and stretched hides tanning in the bright sun, and she barely heard the children laughing at Tokala’s white ox.

Chapter I

Down the hall, Aubrey heard the rattling of keys in the lock and the sound of the apartment door opening. She cocked her head and waited for the solid thud and metal slides and clicking, assuring her it was being locked again. Neither Kayla nor Cici were supposed to be coming home tonight, but apparently one of them had had a change of plans and returned from their date early.

Probably Kayla.
Aubrey knew her roommate’s relationship with Bobby was heading south. The inevitable breakup was coming soon, and it was Cici’s turn to listen to Kayla’s tirade and excuses.

Aubrey froze for a minute, staring down at Mike with her finger to her lips to keep him silent. Searching through the dark room, she scanned the top of her desk and let out a relieved breath. She had remembered to leave her purse hanging from the outside bedroom doorknob. It was the signal between the roommates, when one of them had company.

Aubrey heard Kayla walk down the hall, and a few seconds later her bedroom door closed. She listened for a moment and, satisfied that Kayla was not going to interrupt her, she stared down into Mike’s excited eyes and smiled mischievously. She was kneeling between his thighs, letting her finger trace from his neck, down his chest where it meandered to circle his nipple and scrape lightly across the tip, and down over his belly. It was tight and all ready quivering. Aubrey reveled in this sense of control, and she let her fingertips brush across to his hipbones, lingering on their journey before finally sifting and plowing through the mat of black curls towards his cock.

Mike sucked in a gasping breath of anticipation.
Fuck, yes.
He had met Aubrey in lit class. For two weeks he had stolen glances at her, and turned red with embarrassment when she caught him. Her soft green eyes crinkled in a welcoming smile, and Mike finally got up enough nerve to sit next to her.

Aubrey always dressed casually, wearing minimal makeup and her long blonde hair twisted in a braid she slung over her shoulder. It rolled over nice tits and rested on her desk. When she stood to leave class, Mike was relieved to discover he was a few inches taller than her. At five seven, he was sensitive about his height. He knew he did not look bad, but he was certainly no competition against most of the guys.

Through high school, he was not considered much of a catch, and he wound up sinking into his studies to avoid facing a pathetic social life. The jocks made him feel inadequate, so he avoided sports. The geeks made him feel like an outcast or a weirdo. College was more of the same, but with so many students no one noticed him. He
had
managed to go on a couple of dates, but it had taken until the end of his freshman year to get laid and the few girls he dated soon found excuses to move on… until Aubrey. Damn, just the thought of her gave him a boner.

They were assigned as partners for a project, and somehow it had blossomed into something that had nothing to do with their composition. They spent an hour studying and finding excuses to lean closer and brush up against each other. Invariably, the research was forgotten and they wound up in bed, or on the floor, or a table… and once behind a thicket of bushes on the edge of Hanson Memorial Park.

Aubrey stared at his face, absorbing his pleasurable agony. A light from the parking lot showed through her window, dulled slightly by the sheer curtains. Aubrey could barely make out the shine of his eyes staring at her. His fists were already clenching the sheets while his cock quivered in anticipation. Her tongue darted out, swiping across her lips. The soft skin of his cock was stretched and straining under her finger, and she traced the pulsing vein.

Aubrey could not remember when she discovered she liked sucking cocks. At first, she thought it was the feeling of control that it gave her. Now, she knew that she really got off on how much pleasure she could deny or provide. Her hand curled and stroked down his length, while the other gently cupped his balls. His shaft jerked and a droplet shined on the tip.

Mike had enjoyed several of her blowjobs. Hell, he was half-convinced that if he described them in a paper for Professor John he would excuse him from the composition. There was no way to concentrate when as soon as he saw Aubrey his mind and cock became obsessed with the thought of her mouth on him. She was hands-down the best he had ever had, or probably ever would.

Aubrey liked to drag it out until he was almost insane. Just thinking about her lips around him drove him crazy. Every time they got together, he planned to tell her this time they really needed to work on the lit paper. Invariably, he would look at her mouth and watch her either lick her lips or nibble the tip of the eraser on her pencil in thought. His cock would bolt up and demand attention, and the composition was once more put on the back burner.

Aubrey circled his cock with two fingers, and she began sliding them up and down his shaft. She roamed over the drips leaking from his V-shaped slit and used the warm slick fluid to glide more easily. Her other hand continued to gently squeeze his balls.

“God, Aubrey. Oh, shit.” Mike pumped his hips impatiently a few times.

Aubrey bent over, and more droplets spilled out. Mike was
so
appreciative of her talent. She licked across his velvety crown and blew warm air across the wet surface. His cock trembled in her hand. She began a full-fisted pump, tightening and then loosening her grip.

Aubrey licked up and down his cock while she ran her thumb over his tip and slickened the surface with his juice. Mike glanced down at the top of her head. Her long golden hair was spread out around her and tickling his thighs and abdomen.

When she fitted him into her mouth she heard him gulp, and she felt the sheets tighten in his grip. She bobbed slowly, sucking and stroking with her tongue. Aubrey always caressed his balls while his cock was trapped inside her mouth. Lavishing his cock with her warm tongue, she sucked him into her mouth and slowed her motion when she felt him close to coming.
Easy, guy. Don’t rush this, now.

Mike did not have the control some men had, and Aubrey recognized the two quick pulsing throbs. The hand on his sack moved to the tender strip of skin in front of his anus, and she pressed hard for a few seconds. His hands flew from the sheets to tangle in her hair. He gave three impatient thrusts while he held her head, and she released the pressure from her fingers.

“Oh god,” he gritted out, lifting his hips off the bed. Cum exploded painfully up his cock, spewing into her waiting mouth. “God that hurts so good,” he ground out.

Aubrey continued to lap his cock clean, and she finally sat up and licked her lips. Satisfied with the result of her endeavor and certain that she had worn him down to an exhausted mess of passionate fulfillment, she lay down in the cradle of his arm. They would sleep for a while, and then it would be her turn.

It would be his easy, predictable fuck that seemed to be the preferred method of most of the boys she had met. Kayla and Aubrey had laughed and joked that the college boys had watched an orientation tape, instructing them to slow down after their groping clumsiness of high school. Aubrey had never found a man who did more than a few licks of her pussy and then plunged in as soon as he felt she was wet.

Only a couple more weeks, Mikey. Then, the semester ends, and it’s ‘Bye bye’
. It would be time to search for a new conquest among her next semester classes.

Aubrey had what she considered a healthy sexual appetite. Kayla said that she was insatiable.
Whatever.
Aubrey
knew that Kayla was not being judgmental. Her strange beliefs from the way her mother had raised her were so ingrained they would not allow her to be. Besides, Kayla had her own promiscuities. Her seductive looks captured the cocks… if not the hearts… of many young men on campus.

Kayla was tall, with strong, tanned, lean legs that provided the track scholarship she needed to make it to college. Running kept her trim, and she could easily pass as a model for the skimpy silky shorts and tightly stretched sports bras she wore when she practiced. She kept her jet black hair in a ponytail, and it would swing behind her while she ran. The startling contrast with her bright blue eyes turned heads on the rare occasions that her perfect figure failed to get noticed.

It was the determination on her face while she ran that gave her competitors the uneasy feeling Kayla was not even struggling or paying attention to the race. The faraway focus and set of her jaw was Kayla’s visage to outrun her private demons… the ugliness only Aubrey and Cici knew about. Kayla had been running since stepfather number four, her mother’s conquest when Kayla was twelve years old.

The past had not swayed Kayla from enjoying her sexual conquests until they began to resemble a relationship. Back home, she was on loser stepfather number six, and according to Kayla’s mother, number seven was all ready in the picture. Kayla was not even sure which, if any of the men, was her father. What she had learned from her mother’s unstable situations was that the chase was fun until it was turned into the reality of day to day living. Kayla had no time for the petty squabbles her flirting behavior invariably caused and, just like her mother, Kayla would move on to her next target.

This time, she had found an Indian boy whose dangerous good looks aroused her. She had actually coasted through some unpleasant times with the man. “That son of a bitch,” she muttered.

Kayla had seen Aubrey’s purse on the door when she got home.
Damn, the nerd’s here.
She really needed to talk to one of her roommates, and she knew that Cici was spending the night at Jenny’s again.

“Damn you, Bobby.” Kayla tossed her purse onto the chair in her bedroom after grabbing her cell phone. Maybe Cici and Jenny were watching a movie or something. Somewhere in her mind, Kayla was aware that Cici and Jenny were lovers. Sex with a woman made no sense to her though, so she did not give their relationship the same precedence that she did to Aubrey’s infatuations or her own quick liaisons.

Aubrey, Kayla, and Cici had become inseparable through high school, and thanks to Kayla’s track scholarship to State, Cici and Aubrey zeroed in on the same school. They had no problem filling their scholastic grants with student loans, and had shared an off-campus apartment for two years. All three of them were still struggling with the decision on which direction and degree to pursue. They touched base on ‘girls night’ over marguerites, laughing over their game of what they wanted to be when they grew up.

They were close to deciding on third year courses and the game was not quite so funny any more. A year ago, they had all discussed the same strange feeling that some big change would alter any steady plans they made. When they tried to focus on a career, they pictured themselves in the future, detesting their choice and locked into a life that made them miserable. The indecision reflected in their choice of classes, and they wandered through obligatory courses and unusual electives.

This impending sense of change was so real that none of them had even bothered to enter into any serious relationships. After six months of steady dating, Cici had come the closest with Jenny. Despite her statements that their friendship was building to a more permanent arrangement, both Kayla and Aubrey could tell that Cici was on a learning expedition. She never mentioned a future with Jenny or discussed moving in with her, so Kayla and Aubrey knew that it was the weird feeling affecting Cici, with the inability to make a commitment.

Where Aubrey and Kayla shared the same measurements, even though the breasts and hips seemed a little fuller on Aubrey’s shorter stature, Cici was completely different. She was as tall as Kayla, but she had the stout figure from her German heritage. Huge breasts, wide hips, and heavy thighs… but she still looked in proportion. She kept her curly brown hair cropped at her shoulders, and she never left the house without a full mask of carefully applied makeup and her nails polished to a shine. Out of the three of them, Cici was the one most adamant about her appearance. She had a stubborn, willful nature, and she had learned to be a bit selfish to keep from being teased about her size. That… and her apprehensive acceptance that she thought she was a lesbian.

Cici switched on the bedside light when her phone rang. She turned to Jenny, “Go back to sleep, hon. It’s Kayla. She’s probably had another fight with Bobby.” Cici answered with a yawn, making sure that Kayla got the message.

“Oh, shit, Cici. I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cici felt Jenny kick her under the blankets.

Kayla spent twenty minutes on her ‘Bobby Bitch’, as the girls had come to name her calls. When Cici finally hung up and turned out the light, Jenny rolled over and whispered, “I’m awake.”

Cici rose and leaned over her. She smiled, and lowered her lips onto Jenny’s. “I’m sorry. Kayla will be up all night if she can’t get this stuff off her chest.”

Cici had met Jenny at the diner by the campus. She was a small, frail, nervous woman, and Cici was immediately attracted to her. Cici had only a few dates in high school, and she decided she had no real interest in boys. Luckily, she was five foot ten and almost two hundred pounds, so she was not exactly fighting off dates.

Cici held a secret about her sexuality that even her roommates were unaware of. Although she enjoyed sex and the relationship aspect of being with a woman, sometimes Cici drove to a bar on the edge of town, hunting for a man to fuck. She would lie about her name and specifics, never leaving a legitimate phone number in the unlikely event that the stud of her choice decided to call.

The problem was Cici’s turn on, which was the need to be in control. If her partner was demanding, she was completely turned off and left unaroused and unfulfilled. She had convinced herself that men who wanted a ‘super-sized’ woman expected her gratitude and would demand her submission.

Cici always searched for a small, quiet man, and on the few occasions she had misread her ‘date’, she left. Once, the man was still thrusting frantically inside her dry passage, squeezing her big breasts until all she could feel were his bony fingers and digging nails. She rolled him off her so hard that he landed on the floor beside the bed. Cici ignored his curses while she dressed, stared once at his thin, stiff cock, and shrugged her shoulders before walking out.