prick spearing into the mouth of her womb.
'Agghh!' she groaned, feeling her clitoris tingle with all the urgency and insistence it had ever showed when Henry had been driving his own cock into her cunt. 'Unngghh! Ooohh!'
Gloria writhed beneath the Indian, still trying to get away from him; her efforts to escape his brutal thrusts only succeeded in heightening her response to his assault. The reek of stale sweat, woodsmoke and stale animal grease radiated from his body and she found the gorge rising in her throat. Fighting down the impulse to retch, she struggled all the harder against him. Gradually, however, her writhing efforts to escape took on a rather different 'character. First she clutched at his thick, muscular thighs with her knees, holding him between them; then she began answering his steady thrusts with tentative movements of her hips. As her body grew ever more responsive to his attack the movements became quicker and stronger until at last she was rubbing her pussy against his loins with abandon.
Bound and helpless though she was, she could not keep her lithe, hungry body from growing ever hotter and more finely attuned to the Indian's relentless motions. Shrieking out a despairing cry, she locked her heels together behind his knees and flung her hips upward, driving the mouth of her cunt down the shaft of his prick until her clitoris scraped his belly and slid into the bristly hair growing around the base of his cock.
'Agghh! Aiieee!' she wailed, twitching convulsively and tossing her hips from side to side as her passion mounted inside, knotting her belly into a solid mass of sexual tension.
The Indian paid no attention to her cries, of course. Nor did he seem to be fucking with her benefit in mind. Rather, he simply drove his prick into her cunt again and again, pistoning the meaty rod back and forth in an effort to give himself pleasure. Despite his lack of concern she felt her loins growing warmer and warmer; she felt the hard knot of tension growing ever tighter until it seemed that a gigantic spring was being tightened within her midsection. Suddenly the Indian grunted and lurched forward, driving his prick even further into her body. He snarled out a guttural phrase and held himself close against her; she felt his thick, muscular body quiver and then his cock began spurting out a thick stream of hot gruel.
Her mind registered shame and consternation at finding herself able to achieve such fierce pleasure with a murderous savage but her body knew nothing of shame; her physical self knew only the jolting, pulsating pleasure which exploded within her belly and spread outward in long, rolling waves that left her whimpering weakly. The Indian held himself within her until his prick and balls had ceased to move, then extracted the tool quickly. He wiped the moisture off on her belly, grunting softly as he did so. She looked down, saw the sperm-dampened rod moving over her belly and felt another shudder of pleasure.
'Huhh! Fuck good!' the Indian muttered, nodding his head energetically.
'What? You speak English?' she gasped, startled to hear the words.
'No English,' he growled, shaking his head. 'Fuck good! 'Sta bueno!'
Gloria had already picked up enough Spanish to understand the approval carried in that phrase. She found it no comfort, however; she was immediately overwhelmed with a vast sense of shame at what she had done.
'Oh, you utter bastard!' she whispered, her voice twisted with loathing and self-contempt. 'You've killed my husband and all these men and then you've raped me! And what's worse, you made me come-oohh, I'll look forward to seeing you dead!'
The Indian ignored her as he fastened the breechclout around his waist and settled the sheathed knife into place. Her heart nearly leaped into her mouth when she saw his fingers touch the heavy, fringed scabbard; she exhaled gratefully when she understood that he was merely adjusting its hang. He moved away and whistled for his horse. The shaggy pony came up to him and he leaped onto its back with a single, easy bound. He caught up the rawhide thong trailing from the animal's lower jaw, dug his heels into its flanks and clattered away. Gloria twisted around in an attempt to determine what he was doing but could not follow his path once he had disappeared behind the wagon.
She eased herself back onto the ground, conscious now of the Indian's sperm trickling out of her pussy. Though it reminded her of the shame which had been forced upon her, she could not help remembering the way her belly and thighs had reverberated with her own pleasure. Though it tore at her conscience to admit it, she could not hide the truth: she had come with a full, mighty rush of feeling, exactly as she had done when it had been her own husband between her thighs!
How could you? she asked herself, shaking her head in wonder. A brute, a savage, and you allowed yourself to come just as though it had been Henry! Are you so complete a whore that you can come with any man? Have you no shame at all?
She was not given a great deal* of time in which to contemplate her'fatal' weakness. 'The Indian soon returned, herding several horses in front of him; she recognized the big Morgan Henry had ridden, along with the sturdy bay gelding belonging to Magee. When the Indian swung down from his own pony she saw that he had Magee's pistol and rifle, as well as two bows and a quiver full of arrows. He dumped these into a pile and rode off again. When he returned the second time he carried Henry's shotgun as well as the silver mounted revolver which had been given him as a wedding present; her heart throbbed piteously when she recognized the weapons and knew that Henry was indeed dead.
The Indian now went around the wagons, picking out all the weapons and a few other articles which he fancied, Finally he dumped them all into a pile and began fashioning them into a pack. When he had the bundle securely lashed with a rope he had taken from a wagon he threw it onto a mule, tied it down as tightly as possible and surveyed the scene one last time. It was only then that Gloria saw the scalps hanging from his waist thong: they were only small patches of hair with a piece of bloody skin attached but she recognized them for what they were. Looking closer, she saw that one of them was undoubtedly Henry's; her heart sank even lower when she recognized the rich, curling chestnut hair.
'Wh-what are you going to do.'' she murmured when the Indian came toward her, drawing the knife from its scabbard. 'Oh no, not…!'
Instead of plunging it into her heart, as she had feared, he slashed the thongs binding her hands to the wagon wheel and motioned for her to get onto her feet. Replacing the knife in its sheath, he motioned toward the horses, obviously intending her to mount one of them. She took a tentative step toward the Morgan belonging to her husband and, seeing the Indian's nod, felt a surge of joy.
'Wait a moment,' she said, 'I must repair the damage you've done.'
He growled impatiently but she went to the rear of the wagon and selected another stout cotton dress, rolling it into a compact bundle, and picked out a stout woolen skirt, which she stepped into and fastened around her waist. Having thus covered her naked legs, she went to the Morgan and swung into the saddle. The voluminous skirt made it difficult for her to straddle the mount but she tucked up the skirts so that they afforded her thighs a minimal amount of protection.
The Indian nodded and again pointed to the south, kicking his pony forward as he did so. They set off at a fast trot, then changed into a gallop. The Indian drove the extra horses before him; he had gathered all the mules and horses into a bunch, along with the ponies his companions had ridden. Gloria followed him for a time and then gradually allowed the Morgan to fall behind and edge to one side. Her shift was quickly noticed, however, and brought its own retribution: the Indian steered his pony back toward her, brandished his stone-headed club in a menacing fashion and pointed toward the herd of horses. Gloria nodded meekly, all too aware of his meaning, and kicked the Morgan into a faster pace. The Indian grunted approval when she was again close to the galloping herd.
They rode for the rest of the day, keeping to a generally southerly direction. The Indian made one long detour back to the east; Gloria suspected that this change was to take them well away from Comanche Springs, the nearest settlement. Otherwise they kept their backs to the debacle they left behind. Gloria soon discovered that her skirt was not designed for riding astride; it persisted in hiking up around her thighs and by midafternoon she could feel the beginnings of a sunburn.
The saddle chafed the insides of her thighs. Since she had not taken the time to don any underclothing her naked flesh rubbed against the leather and soon began to complain. Furthermore the load of sperm which the Indian had deposited in her cunt continued to dribble forth, inundating the seat of the saddle and setting up an added irritation. She dared not complain, much less stop. The Indian drove the horses before him with ease and occasionally looked over to make sure that she was keeping up.
By late afternoon they could see a line of peaks rising far to the south. At first Gloria had thought them to be
