Captive Travelers (8 page)

“Tocho, the farmers gave them weapons.” Nashoba tossed it onto the table.

Cici was still sitting with her chubby thighs quivering and her knees knocking. “We were cutting vegetables,” she said quickly, not trying to hide the panic in her voice. She was afraid she would be in trouble for having a knife in front of her. The Indians ignored her.

Kayla was struggling to breathe, and she could feel the man behind her tightening the leather strap around her neck. The glaring savage in front of her reached around her and untied the sashes to her apron. It dropped to the floor. Kayla felt his fingers reach for the buttons on her dress, and she panicked and swept a long leg out at him. “Get away from me, you son of a bitch.”

Tocho’s fingers clenched around her breast and she shrieked, still wheezing breath through the noose. Kayla was getting dizzy, and her few ragged inhales were exhaled in sobs. There was no way to scream, and it felt as though he was ripping her breast off. She stopped kicking at him and focused on trying to breathe.

Tocho kept clutching her breast with one hand while he slipped the buttons open. Kayla was gripping under the leather strap around her throat, trying to loosen it so she could breathe. She slipped one hand free and tried to bat the Indian’s hand away while he pushed the sleeves off her shoulders. The Indian behind her tugged the leash, and her hand immediately rose to pry the constricting leather away from her throat.

Tocho took advantage of the distraction, and he reached behind her to open the button at the top of the skirt. He pushed the top over her hips, and the raven stood trembling and naked with the discarded dress and apron pooled around her feet.

Clara turned her head into Henry’s shirt and cried. “Oh god, Henry. I’m so sorry.” Tocho was wrong. Clara
would
turn the travelers away, next time. She could not bear to watch the Indians claim them, and the punishment to Henry was not worth it. Henry kept Clara’s face buried in his shirt while his eyes narrowed and he focused on Kayla. She was everything Clara was not; lithe and firm, a beautiful young face… and the current object of the warriors’ wrath.
Oh, they’ll have themselves a party with that one.

Kayla screamed again when the Indian grabbed her hands away from the choking leather. She felt her knees giving way and a throbbing pain behind her eyes. The Indian had no trouble securing her wrists tightly. As soon as he released them, she raised them to her throat and continued to try to loosen the noose.
Why is this happening?

Tocho picked up the apron, ripped a piece off the bodice and wrapped it over the raven’s mouth. “We will not listen to more of your insults and lies.”

Finally, the noose was loosened and Kayla inhaled through flaring nostrils. She was so stunned she did not even realize she was nude, until she noticed the Indian’s narrowed eyes fixed on her breasts. Kayla shrieked and twisted when the fierce Indian cupped her breasts and squeezed harshly. He glared into her swimming blue eyes and smiled in sadistic triumph.

Kayla felt the Indian behind her move, and the leather end of the noose slapped down on her bottom. Tocho reached between her thighs, grasped the loose end and pulled it up between her legs. He yanked so that the lead cut between the cheeks of her bottom and smashed against her pussy. Kayla reached out with her bound hands to grab the strap away from him. Tocho merely raised his fist and pulled the tether tighter, cutting into her slit and tightening the noose around her throat again.

Kayla’s frightened gaze searched the room, stopping on the farmers.
Help me. Why aren’t you doing something to stop them?
Henry had his chin on Clara’s head, and his eyes were focused on where the tether was splitting Kayla’s pussy lips open.

Kayla felt her lungs burning, and she looked up at Tocho, pleading with her eyes. Tocho stared patiently, waiting for the raven to figure it out. If she struggled, she would have a very painful journey to the village. Kayla’s hands rose again to her throat to loosen the noose, while she gasped hitching sobs. She finally lowered her bound wrists, and the Indian immediately let the leash go slack.

Aubrey was continuing to struggle in Nashoba’s arms, screaming for the Indians to release Kayla. “Let her go. She didn’t do anything.” Aubrey felt fingers thread through her hair and pull her head back.

Nashoba leaned down, and said, “Silence, Wacasa.”

Aubrey felt the hand clutching her hair loosen and drop to the neck sash of the apron. The white top fell down onto the skirt. The strong arm he had wrapped under her breasts tightened when the belt was pulled free and the apron slipped to the floor. When his hands reached for the buttons at her throat, Aubrey thrashed and tried to pry his arm loose. “Let go of me,” she cried. She could see one of the Indians walking Kayla outside, leading her by the strap threaded between her legs.

“We allow nothing of the white man in our village,” Nashoba said.

“But I
am
white,” Aubrey cried.
Oh god. This can’t be happening.

“You are neither white, nor Indian. You are mine,” Nashoba stated. “Put your hands down, Wacasa.” He turned to Clara. “Tell her who I am, Sahkyo.”

Clara stared at Nashoba. Even after all these years she could never forget the powerful man. “He is Nashoba, the Wolf. He is the chief’s oldest son.”

Nashoba’s black gaze fixed on her. “You remember me.” He dropped his stare and rubbed Aubrey’s temple with his chin, inhaling her scent.

Clara looked into Aubrey’s terrified eyes. “He owns you now.”

“No,” Aubrey screamed.

Clara said quietly, “You have been given a high tribal honor, Aubrey.” Clara knew that the Wehali considered it an honor, but so much more would be expected of the young woman.

“Clara, please,” Aubrey cried. She was frantic, and fighting the Indian’s hold on her while she screamed, “How do we get home? How can we leave here?”

“You can’t.” Clara turned back to Henry’s chest and looked up at him. He was gazing at Aubrey with a look he had not given her since her first year at the farm. It did not matter. Soon, they would face their own punishment. The girls would be led away, and the two of them would manage to heal. It would take longer, but Clara knew that eventually she would be able to sleep without hearing the young women’s screams.

Nashoba whispered, “You will obey me, Wacasa, or you will be punished.”

Aubrey thought of Kayla’s painful restraints as she was led out of the cabin. She trembled and almost collapsed against the Indian’s chest while he returned to his task of divesting her of the calico dress. Aubrey jerked in his arms as each button slipped through the hole and opened. Nashoba reached an arm under the material and cupped one of her breasts while he released the button at the back of the skirt. She heard him hiss when his thumb brushed over a tightened nipple, and Aubrey’s hands flew to cover her pussy when the dress rustled to the floor.

Nashoba nodded to Tocho, and Aubrey pushed back when he approached. Nashoba felt her bottom press into his thighs, and he thrust his stiff cock against her back. Tocho grabbed her hands and tied strips around her wrists, knotting them together. She clutched them over her pussy again when he released them, trying to cover her breasts with her arms. Nashoba continued to hold one lush mound in his palm and he smiled at his friend.

Cici sat at the table and whimpered in fear while she watched her friends stripped and restraints placed on them. When Nashoba motioned, two Indians approached her, and her brown eyes widened in terror. “No,” she screamed. Cici was in complete panic. “No, it wasn’t me. I don’t belong here.” She began frantically slapping at the hands reaching out to her.

Nashoba said, “Remember, she is not to be tired on the way to the village.” The women of the tribe would prepare her, and he did not want her losing more weight. The two men he picked would follow slowly behind the others and care for her.

One of the savages knelt in front of her, and Cici screamed and continued to slap at his hands. “Quiet, Waka,” he said in a calm, deep voice. Soquila was used to taming horses, and working with the cow would not be much different. He did glare at Clara when she wailed into Henry’s shirt after she heard what he had called Cici.

The other Indian gripped Cici’s flailing arms while Soquila lifted the hem of her skirt. He ran his hand down her calf and noticed that there was a surprising amount of muscle. Soquila strapped two thick cuffs around her ankles. There was a one and a half foot tether line between them.

Cici did not have an apron, and she cried when Soquila’s fingers reached for the buttons on her dress. “Please,” Cici whined. “Oh god, please. I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Hush, Waka.” The other Indian stroked steady fingers through her curls.

There was no way to stop the savage from removing her dress, though Cici batted at his hands and pleaded to be left at the farm with Clara and Henry. Aubrey let out a sob when Cici told the Indians they should be satisfied with just her and Kayla. While Cici was stripped, she continued to try to bargain her friends away. Leather bands were attached to Cici’s wrists and a leash was knotted between them. It took both Indians to lift her to a stand.

“No,” Cici wailed, pulling away from them. Her breasts, bottom, and thighs, jiggled with her trembling.

Soquila grabbed the quirt tied to his belt and tapped it against her bottom. He swung harder each time, until she began moving forward. “We will meet up with you at the resting stop,” Soquila said to Nashoba.

Every time Cici tried to pull back or move to the side, the short whip struck her. Softly at first, and then the Indian would swing it harder until it stung and left a pink welt. “No,” she wailed. They were out of the cabin and Cici stared at Kayla. She was naked and sobbing through the gag, while her fingers tried to move the leash from between her legs. Cici realized her own situation could even be worse, though a part of her was beginning to hate Kayla for getting her involved with this.

One Indian mounted his pony, while the other only untied the reins of his own. Soquila led both his horse and Waka slowly down the trail. He had studied her carefully. She was on the lean side, but held promise. Soquila would ask the chief to let him train her.

Aubrey had stopped her useless struggle. The more she tried to pull away, the tighter Nashoba’s hold on her breast became. He kept her pinned against his chest, and Aubrey could feel his stiff cock pressing against her bottom. She felt his free arm moving, and then he lowered a strap over her head. “No,” she screamed, and began to struggle again. She remembered Kayla fighting for air.

“Quiet, Wacasa.” He loosened his grasp on her breast and rubbed his fingers down the side of the soft flesh, trying to calm her. Nashoba placed the leather around her neck while she clawed at his hand. He held the back of the noose, keeping the tether slack so she could breathe easily. Guiding her to the door with the hand on the leash and the other holding her waist, he called to Tocho, “Bring the farmers.”

Aubrey and Kayla were pushed to their knees, with Ahiga and Nashoba standing between them. Nashoba would not get involved with Tocho’s punishment for the farmers. Sahkyo belonged to him, and Nashoba would stay out of this.

Tocho had two Indians tie the farmers’ wrists and tether the binds to long leashes. They climbed on horses and waited. Tocho said, “You are not a spy, Sahkyo.” He had a brief flash of Tokala’s insult at the fire. “I did not leave you here to humiliate me by hiding the travelers. You are farmers. I will remind you of the wheat.”

Aubrey shuddered at the high, shrill yell, and the two horses took off at a lope through the wheat field, dragging Clara and Henry behind them. A few minutes later, Aubrey heard Clara scream. By the time the Indians returned, both Clara and Henry were on their stomachs being dragged. Their clothes were in shreds, and they were bleeding and bruised. Clara was unconscious and it looked as though her shoulder was dislocated. Henry moaned beside her. The Indians left them with their wrists still bound, lying on the dirt in front of the cabin.

Nashoba mounted his horse, and Aubrey gripped the leash with her bound hands to keep the noose from tightening. She did not know that he had tied a knot in it to keep this from happening. The leash was dropped between Kayla’s legs, and she felt a brief respite before it was hanging down her chest again. At least it was no longer sawing her bottom and pussy. Ahiga led her, and although Kayla looked shocked, she kept her hands locked onto the leash.

They were led for hours. Kayla’s stamina from running helped her, and several times Ahiga turned to look at her. His eyes narrowed when he studied her legs, after thoroughly scanning the rest of her body. She was barely breathing hard and was staring into the distance.

Aubrey fell twice and was dragged for a moment before Nashoba stopped his horse. Her knees bruised on rocks while she fought to keep slack in the noose and scrambled her feet underneath her again. Their pace was slow, and he knew that it was her fear trying to immobilize her. She met his eyes once, and dropped her stare. His woman was frightened of him. The power Nashoba expected to feel was turning into an uncertain angry despair over putting her through this. Still, she must be brought to the village as his captive, bound and walking.

They traveled all day, but never caught up to Cici and the other two Indians. Soquila had walked Waka off the path and down to a stream for a drink when he had heard Nashoba’s group coming up behind them. The cow was being moved much more slowly, and he did not want her anxious and trying to catch up to her friends.

“You were easy on them,” Nashoba said. “The bruises will heal in a few days.”

“I don’t know if Sahkyo will try to hide more travelers,” Tocho replied. “But you admitted it might be easier to find them and they will be less likely to be injured if they wait for us at the farm.”

Nashoba remembered how pleased Tocho had been with his captive. “Sahkyo was a good woman for you.”

“She kept me warm through seven winters,” Tocho agreed.