Captive Travelers

by Candace Smith

  “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.

  “Why did you trade her to the farmer?”

  Tocho shrugged. “It was a good horse.”

  In truth, Tocho had noticed the farmer becoming despondent and angry, and it was beginning to show in the wheat. While the Wehali had control over the field, Tocho was responsible for the crop. Henry had threatened to burn the field, if he was not given a woman. Tocho was left no choice but to give him Sahkyo. He had insisted on taking the farmer’s finest horse to convince his tribe he had traded her.

  Tocho had returned a few times to be with her, glaring at Henry and pulling her to the barn. The passion was still there, and he had never searched for another woman. The last time Tocho was with her he returned the next day and found her covered in bruises and welts. She finally admitted that Henry beat her after Tocho would visit. The farmer was angry, because she denied him the pleasure she shared with her Indian. The shaman’s casting had predicted the separation, but it was hard for Tocho to understand. He could not allow Henry to beat her, so Tocho had not been back to her for many years.

  They rode in silence until just after dark, and they stopped in the small clearing with the tethering bough. When Aubrey tried to walk back to Kayla, Nashoba snapped her leash. “Wacasa,” he scolded. “Stay away from her.” He yanked on her leash and Aubrey stumbled. The man snapped it again, and he pulled her to the opposite side of the circle. He sat down and pulled her next to him. Nashoba noticed that these two girls had a very strong bond that would be difficult to break. Waka seemed to be the easiest to separate, as she was primarily interested in herself.

  Kayla sat on the ground between Ahiga and Tocho. Neither she nor Aubrey missed the cruel looks from the Indians. She had tried to cover her breasts with her arms but the Indians knocked her hands away. Now, her wrists were tied together behind her back.

  When Clara said that the Indians would humiliate them, Aubrey thought it would be with names and words. She was beginning to realize how much Clara left out. Aubrey had stopped trying to hide her breasts after Nashoba had pulled her hands away twice and she saw Kayla’s hands tied behind her. She managed to kneel in such a way as to tuck the golden curls of her pussy between her thighs. Aubrey was exhausted, and she stared at the ground, silently crying.

  The Indians lit a small fire and spoke in their strange language. They would laugh occasionally, and look at their captives. Usually, Kayla was the brunt of their joking. It was an hour later, when the other two Indians arrived… alone.

  “Where’s Cici?” Aubrey cried out. “Oh god, what did you do with her?”

  Nashoba gripped the noose and dragged her face towards his. Their eyes were inches apart, and Aubrey gasped. “You will be silent, Wacasa.” His deep voice was low, his eyes intense with warning. She felt his fingers caressing her hair. “Pleasing me is your only concern.” He released her, and she stared at the fire with tears shining her cheeks.

  The Indians began speaking in their strange dialect again while they ate. Neither Aubrey nor Kayla was offered anything.

  “Waka is hobbled?” Nashoba asked Soquila.

  “Yes, and we put sleeping juice in her dinner. She was very tired, anyway. She has a lot of muscle beneath the fat.” Cici would be kept drugged at night so she would not be disturbed by sounds from the camp. She was on the other side of the small stream.

  Kohana glanced at Kayla, and cupped his groin. “What about the raven?”

  Nashoba shrugged. “The shaman says she cannot be used until he cleanses her, but the capture party has first rights to her.”

  “I hope to be busy with Waka,” Soquila suggested.

  “You wish to tame her?” Nashoba asked.

  “I will ask your father. She will have a lot to offer, I think.” Soquila was fairly certain that if he delivered her not much leaner than when she was collected, Nashoba would speak for him.

  Nashoba spread his legs and pulled Aubrey between his strong thighs. He gripped the back of the noose and dragged her head back to his chest. Aubrey gasped and made a futile attempt to bring her folded legs together. She had no chance to straighten them, and she remained in a kneeling position with her toes resting under her bottom, brushing against the Indian’s soft leather breechclout. With the awkward angle, she could not manage to bring her knees together. Nashoba fondled her breasts while her pink slit lay spread and exposed to the other savages. She quivered and tried to push away from him, but his grip on her breasts tightened and held her still.

  “Taunt the deceitful raven,” Nashoba ordered. “You may not claim her until she is cleansed, but there is no reason her journey should be made in comfort. Let her feel the yearning she has imposed on the warrior she misled.”

  Aubrey did not understand the words he had called out to the other savages, but she saw them moving towards Kayla. “No, please. Please don’t let them touch her. She didn’t do anything wrong,” Aubrey begged.

  Nashoba looked down at her chest, watching her breasts rise and fall quickly with her frightened, panting breaths. His grip softened until he was merely holding the weight of her generous mounds in his hands, and his thumbs stroked over the taut nubs of her erect nipples. Their rosy color darkened with tightening response to his light brushes, and the pads of his fingers pinched gently, lengthening the swollen knobs.

  Aubrey’s tear-filled eyes widened and she tried to pull away from him. His grip on her breasts tightened in warning, and she forced herself to lean back against his chest again. His hands resumed their gentle massages and stroking over her nipples. A flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks, when she felt her body responding to his caresses. Her pussy spasmed with his earthy masculine scent, and her cavern lubricated with creamy arousal of need. She was shocked and confused with her unwanted desire of the savage.

  Nashoba felt her trembling, and he smiled in satisfaction. He kept his deep voice low, and whispered, “I was told you were passionate, Wacasa.”

  “Stop,” Aubrey gasped. She raised her bound hands to push him away. “Please stop. Tell them not to hurt Kayla.”

  Nashoba answered, “You are mine, Wacasa… and you will be punished if you speak of the raven again.” He brushed her hands away. “Lie still.” He punctuated the threat by twisting a sensitive nipple until she gasped and let out a small cry.

  Aubrey closed her eyes when Kayla began to muffle frightened shrieks through her gag. She trembled against Nashoba’s chest with silent sobs, until his talented fingers began to cause quivers of another sort. Aubrey pulled her shoulders back into his tight chest, trying to stop the seductive brushes and rolling pinches on her nipples. His hand scooped up a breast, and he squeezed massaging fingers into the flesh before returning his attention to her tightened tip.

  While Aubrey was lost in building sensations, Kayla lay sprawled on the ground. Tocho held her arms over her head while two more savages gripped an ankle and kept her legs spread. Ahiga, the man who had been leading her, knelt between her thighs. His fingers spread her dark curls and exposed the liquid heat seeping along her slit, to the cool night air.


  Men were mauling her breasts with excruciatingly slow caresses, while Ahiga ran a finger up and down her soaked crevice. His gaze never left her cleft, and he watched, as despite her fear it was not long before her hips responded and pushed up into his hand. Kayla cried in exhaustion and humiliation. There were too many hands gently caressing and coaxing, until her body gave up the struggle to ward off her aroused feelings.

  Two long fingers began to plunge inside her in a slow, educated dance that was accompanied by a thumb strumming her clit. Kayla closed her eyes and felt her mind become light, and she washed into the sensation. As soon as her channel began to convulse around the thrusting fingers in climax, the Indian removed them. Kayla felt a sharp slap against her sensitive folds. Her eyes opened wide and she shook her head while she shrieked behind the gag. Ahiga stared into her tearing blue eyes, slapping her pussy until her spasms stopped, and then the Indians began the torture all over again.

  “You deny our warrior in the other spirit world… so you shall be denied here.” Tocho glared down at her. Three more times they brought her to climax, only to slap her pussy before she could enjoy fulfillment from her orgasm.

  At last, the Indians finished their game, and when Nashoba lifted Aubrey back onto her knees, Kayla was once more sitting between Ahiga and Tocho. She looked shocked and humiliated, and her eyes were red from crying. Aubrey continued to kneel between Nashoba’s legs, glancing over at Kayla occasionally. Heeding Nashoba’s threat for the most part, Aubrey tried to force herself to stare into the fire.

  The Indians were frightening. They moved in a fluid, stalking, silent grace that was unnerving for men their size. It reminded Aubrey of when Kayla reached her ‘zone’ in the race and ran with unwasted movements towards the finish line.

  Since Aubrey stopped speaking, Nashoba ignored her. The soft leather of his breeches brushed against her arms when he reached for more jerky or water. Aubrey felt Nashoba’s hand slip over the surface of her braid a few times. His touch was so light that she did not know if it was intentional. Aubrey was still confused that during the terrifying, exhausting ordeal, her nipples peaked and her pussy spasmed whenever the savage touched her. She could not understand her sexual attraction to the Indian… but she also could not deny it.