From: chfrost@aol.com (CHFrost)
Subject: Indian Attack! - Erotic Horror
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
WARNING! ATTENTION! WARNING! ATTENTION!
*All legal disclaimers apply*
This story is a historical recounting of the aftermath of a battle, set somewhere on the high plains, in the days of early westward expansion. White settlers and their Calvary escorts, often unwisely ventured into the sacred hunting grounds of the American Indians, where they conducting horrific atrocities in the name of God, including unprovoked acts of genocide upon the natives, as well as stealing lands that were not rightfully theirs to take. This historically accurate recount offers the descriminating adult reader a clear view of how the American Indian tribe, known as the Incha, fought back. As such, it contains graphic depictions of abduction, torture, nonconsensual sex, mutilation, death, and soul transference, perpetrated on a solder of the U.S. Calvary by Native American women of the Incha tribe.
If you are under age, or offended by such, DO NOT READ!!
NOTE: This story was revised by a surviving member of the Incha tribe in the latter years of the 1990's. It is of such an extremely explicit nature that you most certainly will be offended. The truth hurts. BE WARNED!
Cray Z. Palmer
.......THIS IS YOUR LAST...STAND.....I MEAN......CHANCE!
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INDIAN ATTACK!
Chapter I -
The Incha Indian warriors attacked from ambush, arrows blazing
through the cool morning sky. The large, westward bound wagon
train, traveling serpentine in the narrow, twisting canyon had no
chance. Bearclaw's chest swelled with pride. He knew that his
father, Chief Running Cloud, would be very pleased with so many
white captives.
At the Indian village, the men and women ran from their shelters,
their jubilant screams almost drowning out the the loud beat of the
war drums; the defeated pale faces were led as prisoners into the
camp. Running Cloud could see the tribe was in a blood frenzy, so
he ordered the female captives stripped. With whooping revelry, the
warrior men tore the clothes from every female prisoner. The
captive white women cried and pleaded for freedom, but Chief Running
Cloud had other, much more pleasurable uses to put them to. But,
that story that will have to wait till later.
Sending the butt naked white women to a large teepee that would
serve as a kind of holding area, he turned his attention to the
Calvary men. The Chief told his warriors to make the white men line
up side by side. The whooping Incha warriors poked and prodded the
men into line using their sharply pointed spears. He would select a
fitting prize to give to the tribe's fervid squaws. So, he first
let the squaws rend and tear at the hated uniforms of the terrified
solders.
Walking the line, he chose the most well endowed of the men to
appease the Incha women; a young, blonde lieutenant from the Calvary
escort. Pulling the prize captive aside, Running Cloud released the
other male prisoners, telling them in English to run for their
lives. Soon, he gave his warriors a signal and they tore after
them, thrilled as they chased down the almost naked whites, and
slaughtered many of them like the beasts they had proven to be.
The remaining Calvary men, who were unfortunate enough to survive,
were recaptured and made, at spear and knife point, to bend over
while the blunt ends of long wooden poles were forced up their
rectums. The men on the poles were then raised high into the air,
as the other ends were slid into holes in the ground. The screaming
men writhed as they slowly sank down, impaling themselves on pikes.
Loud screams and whoops of victory filled the sky. They would move
their camp in the next few days, and leave the humiliated corpses as
a mute specters for the savage invaders to find.
With a wave of his hand, Chief Running Cloud gave the prize
Calvary man to the inflamed squaws. The Indian women sprang on
their prize like a shrieking pack of starving coyotes, tearing the
tattered remains of his blue uniform completely off. They then
chased the naked white man around, beating him with long switches
until he collapsed. He was then dragged to a flat area, on the
opposite side of their encampment, where the Incha women staked him
out on the hard, sun baked ground.
The squaws wrestled the struggling man down onto his back, pulled
his arms up over his head, tied rawhide ropes to his wrists,
stretched his arms out flat, and tied the ends of the ropes to
stakes that they had driven deep into the ground. He tried to pull
free, but three of the Indian women held his body down as two more
tied ropes to each of his ankles. It then took four of the stronger
squaws, pulling on each of the ropes on his legs, to stretch his
legs wide apart, and lift them a few feet off the ground. The ends
of those two ropes were then pulled through holes in two tall wooden
poles staked in the ground near his wide spread feet. Not only were
his legs pulled wide apart and off the ground, but his lower torso
was lifted up by the taut ropes, till his ass hung suspended close
to two feet above the ground.
Lt. Johnson was a proud, able bodied man. As a fearless solder of
the United States Calvary, he had been resolved to face his death
bravely in battle against the uncivilized primatives. But, he
hadn't expected, let alone been prepared, to become their captive.
To be stripped naked and switched, humiliatingly, by the angry
squaws, and then to be staked out, as well as being suspended off
the ground in such a vulnerable way, was unthinkable!
He was then absolutely mortified, his whole body jerking in alarm,
as Lechee, one of the elder women of the Incha, dipped her hands in
a pot of warm bear grease and, with a look of single-minded
determination, walked over between his wide spread legs and started
lathering it over and massaging it into his groin. Many of the
warrior men grinned and snickered as they watched their women
laughingly encourage the skillful Lechee.
Her grease coated, glistening hands kneaded and stroked the
testicles and penis of the staked out young solder. Gritting his
teeth defiantly, he closed his eyes and thought of mother and hot
apple pie. However, cheers erupted from the gathered throng of
women as the lieutenant's prick finally began to harden under
Lechee's ardent manipulations.
The elder squaw hated the white men, with good reason. Even though
the Incha tribe had at first welcomed the newcomers, open-handed as
friends, the settlers and Calvary men in particular, had proven to
her tribe what liars and heartless monsters they could be; raping,
torturing, scalping, and killing the people of her tribe without even
the slightest provocation. So, she took comfort in thinking how her
prisoner's gasps of pleasure would later turn into screams of agony.
This gave her the strength to tease and rub his erection to its
fullest stature in her slick, bear grease coated hands.
After many long minutes of working on him, as she would a long
lost lover, she let out a low whistle as the man's penis grew longer
and thicker, becoming enormously large in her fluttering hands.
Running Cloud had indeed made an excellent choice; the man's cock
continued to grow till it became as long and hard as a tomahawk!
Many of the Incha women gasped, amazed by the length and breadth
that his manly organ attained. They jerringly called the man, Horse.
However, the real man called "Horse" objected. The village was quiet
as they thought of a new name. Suddenly a female voice cried out --
"OOM CHUCKA WILLY" -- which means -- "Thundering Buffalo Penis."
Lechee nodded as she watched the young man's face closely for the
tell tale signs and grimances that would signal his eminent orgasm.
Her tireless hands slid up and down the length of his iron hard,
pulsatingly huge, blood engorged shaft.
Lechee was actually suprised that it took so long for her vigorous
manipulations to bring the Calvary man's swollen erection right up
to the heighth of its sexual stimulation. Her tribal name meant
"Good Milker," because she was highly skilled at the practice at
hand. His staying power pleased her, in that it meant that he would
also last a long, long time under the more severe uses the women
would put his body to.
He finally let out a gutteral moan, began thrusting his suspended
hips, and his already tremendous erection grew even longer and
fatter as an uncontrollable orgasm raced through his quivering, cum
filled balls. Lechee glared coldly at the hulking muscle as it
strained, on the verge of releasing its river of sperm, knowing the
time was now at hand. Just a split second before his ejaculation,
Lechee slipped a thin noose of rawhide down over his massive prick.
Then, just as his balls began to powerfully pump their load of cum
up and out of them, she pulled the noose tightly closed around the
very base of his jerking cock.
Hoots of praise shot out from the gathered throng tribal women as
the white man cried out in agony, his mighty ejaculation hopelessly
restrained by the tight noose choking the root of his penis. Only a
single drop of white semen oozed from the slitted tip of Johnson's
quivering, now extremely bloated dickhead as Lechee pulled the knot
slightly tighter, completely cutting off his release.
With his dick now trapped into an excruciatingly large erection,
the young Lieutenant started to scream as Latchee started to squeeze
his shuddering, cum filled balls. With one hand she rolled his
bulging testicals in her palm, while the index finger of her other
hand found the opening of his anus. Her slick finger slid in fairly
easily, for her, and wormed deftly into his bowels, search for and
quickly finding his prostate. Johnson jerked and screamed and
writhed in his bonds as his need to release the torrential flood of
sperm that was damned up, aching to explode out of his swollen
balls, turned desperate as she massaged his prostate gland. The
noose made that absolutely impossible.
The other squaws knelt quickly down around the staked out man and
started pricking his body with cactus needles. The sharp thorns
pierced his sensitive under arms, the inside of his thighs, and the
soles of his naked feet. Other women poked at his nipples with the
thin cactus needles. Johnson bellowed and twisted vainly under the
horrific onslaught.
A fat old squaw roughly took hold of Johnson's swollen prick and
began to rub away at the bloated head with abrasive sand she had
scooped up from the ground. Still another woman began slapping his
swollen testicles as she pressed a thick, twisted, bramble bush root
into the young man's anus.
Johnson was nearly driven out of his mind as his rush toward orgasm
was engulfed by overwhelming, unimaginable pain. The angry squaws
circled around him like rapacious vultures, spitting and hurling
insults at him, but backed off a few steps to point and laugh and
mock him.
Johnson's tear blurred eyes fought to focus on a figure approaching
him as the croud of women parted. He saw that a lovely, long-haired,
buxom Indian maiden was walking toward him, the tribal princess,
Tatafuku. Coming up to him, she stood between his elevated, wide
spread legs and carefully removed the harse root from his bleeding
rectum. She set a large woven straw basket down beside her, and to
his utter amazement, she pulled the rawhide lacing that held the top
of her dress closed till her dress fell open around her supple
shoulders. Her large, firm mellons bounded out into the warm desert
air, shaking from their sudden freedom. Despite the pain that surged
through him, the sight of her beautiful, swaying mammaries made his
eyes bulge out and his cock ache even more, throbbing visibly between
his spread legs. Her twin, nipple capped orbs were larger than
cannon balls, and a hundred times as deadly in the predicament he
was in.
Fearing the worst, he jumped in shocked dismay as she took a very
soft, damp cloth out of the basket and carefully cleaned off his
enormous erection. She then pulled out a small clay jar of aloe balm
and gently rubbed it into the hot, taut skin of his swollen prick.
Johnson couldn't help from letting out a sigh as the balm gave the
skin of his shaft cool tingles of pleasure. His sigh turned into a
heartfelt moan as she lifted each of her heavy breasts in a hand,
moved forward, and gently wrapped the soft, fleshy mountains around
his throbbing member.
The other women cheered her own as she lowered her head to the
exposed, almost bursting cockhead, and spat her saliva onto it. She
let it run all the way down his shaft, rubbing her breasts around on
its wet length in the most excitingly lewd display he had ever
witnessed, let alone been an unwitting party to. Closing her eyes,
she concentrated as she began pumping his huge cock, wetly in and
out of her ample cleavage. He shuddered again as his hips
involuntarily began thrusting upward, shoving his big cock deeply in
and out of the warm caress of her firm mammaries.
Again and again his cock slid through the soft, flesh sandwich of
her large, heaving breasts. He closed his eyes and groaned, quietly
at first, but then louder and louder as his climb toward orgasm
increased to a fever pitch. Seeing his tightly closed eyes, and
feeling his cock throbbing uncontrollably as an eminent, though
quite restrained orgasm was about to overtake him again, the
beautiful Tatafuku stopped. She let go of his prick, watching it
closely as it wildly shuddered in the empty air, seeking the soft
comfort that had unexpectantly abandoned it, straining like it would
ready to split right open.
She waited a full minute for his lust-filled squirming to subside.
Then she tightly wrapped his desperately swollen cock meat in her
voluptuous breast flesh, and repeated the sensual attack on his
violently rampant erection. He cried, great gut-wrenching groans of
exultation that were in turn twisted into anguish, as the unbearable
assault continued. Extremes of pleasure and pain churned in his
guts like two-headed viper. His scalding cum swelled his balls
larger and larger, unable to surge past the horrible rawhide strip
that was cinched tightly around the base of shaft.
Tatafuku let go of him, once again allowing the pain of unsaited
orgasm to wrack his body. Waiting another minute, she then repeated
her sweet, yet torturous stimulation, bringing him right up to the
precipice of the yawning pit of unquechable orgasm.
She could tell that he was almost ready to cum again, but this time
as she released his huge, quavering dick from the soft chasm of her
large, hard-nippled melons, she began to lightly stroke his enormous
purple-veined organ with the fingertips of one of her hands. Seeing
his tightly closed eyes tear up as he concentrated on the pleasurable
sensations she continued to give him, she knew he was working as hard
as he could to achieve a too long restrained, full blown orgasm. She
continued to let her fingertips lighty run over the entire length of
his "OOM CHUKA WILLY" as she reached down with her other had and
gingerly picked up a stinging bull nettle plant from the ground. He
frantically bucked his hips, wildly jabbing his tumultuous cock with
reckless abandon at the feathery touches the tips of her fingers
grazed him with.
Lt. Johnson was completely oblivious of her real intent, his eyes
closed tightly as he grunted away towards finally experiencing the
gratification that had been forestalled time after time. Tatafuku
smiled as she pulled the hand holding the nettle plant all the way
back, took aim, and waited till she heard him groan as his orgasm
was just beginning to implode within him. As his loud groan escaped
his tightly drawn lips, he jabbed his palpitating, more than Buffalo-
sized penis, as high into the sky as he could. Pulling her other
hand away, the air whistled as she swung the bristly nettle plant
down with all her might, lashing it viciously against his rudely
thrusting prick. His urgent groan of pent up sexual release turned
into a terrible howl of utter agony as she beat the man's shuddering,
wildly surging penis relentlessly with the horribly stinging plant.
Right as a truly resounding orgasm was peaking like an detonating
morter shell, Johnson's eyes rolled back in his head and his whole
body convulsed up off the ground, into mid-air, as a hellishly
burning, stinging sensation tore through the huge, swollen shaft of
his orgasming cock. The tiny hairs of the nettle plant that were
being beaten into his climaxing prick, felt like a thousand
burrowing wasp stingers, pumping their poison into his trembling
penile flesh.
The abrupt shift from unbridled pleasure to stupendous pain was so
intense that as his whole body spasmed, actually forcing foot long
rope of thick white semen to shoot out of his horrifically tortured
cock, despite the tight rawhide restraint! He thrashed wildly, like
a fish out of water, futily attempting to break free of his bonds as
if he could somehow escape from the searing pain that was sucked up
by, and emanated out from every single cell in his horribly erect
penis. He screamed his lungs out, beshatting himself, as the
stinging pain set his member ablaze. His body finally slumped and
became still in the rawhide ropes as he was driven into the blackness
of unconsciousness by the firey agony shooting through his forced
erect cock. Even unconscious, his orgasming cock tried valiantly to
shoot its pressurized reservoir of cum, but only succeeded in
dribbling out another drop.
Seeing the Calvary man lapse into unconsciousness, Tatafuku
dropped the nettle plant to the ground, and grabbed his scrotal sack
in her tight fist and squeezed until the wrinkled skin was drawn
taut around his blue-colored, swollen testicles. She pulled two
thin mesquite thorns out of the folds of her soft leather skins as
she rolled his bloated balls between her fingers like a couple of
ripe chicken eggs. Johnson's addled brain was immediatly kick
started as she gave his sore balls a hard yank. Roused from his
fitful "sleep," his eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he
watched Tatafuku thrust a sharp pointed thorn into the very heart of
each of his bloated testicles in turn. He let out a tremendous
blood-curdling scream as each of his full, oversensative balls were
pierced. If the Incha tribe had thought his howls of agony had been
loud before, the screams he made at that point would have rivaled
the wail of a banshee. Blood and large drops of semen beaded up
around the thorns, and dripped slowly to the hard ground beneath him
as his mind once more swooned into the darkness of the abyss.
The sun was setting by this time, and the warrior men turned and
started to walk away from the amusement. They could see that the
white eyes was in "good" hands. The squaws left him staked out, and
quite unconscious as they went to tend the fires, bragging about who
did what. They took their fill of smoked buffalo meat, and drank
freely of the whiskey they had taken from the wagon train, preparing
themselves for a long, long night.
As a dark, moonless night settled in, the inflamed warriors rubbed
their breach clothed, hardened crotches and made their way to the
large teepee where the white women were being kept. At the same
time, the squaws returned to the staked out prisoner. It promised
to be a much needed, unrivaled night of pleasure for both the Incha
warriors and their squaws.
After leaving the white man alone for a few hours, Princess
Tatafuku once again took charge of the captive, as was her right.
When Johnson's eyes finally craned opened, they blinked and then
woefully feasted on Tatafuku, who was dancing and chanting just a
few short feet away. Noticing his eyes were now wide open again,
and ardently staring at her spinning, twisting form, she pulled at
the leather laces that held her sky blue, buffalo hide dress closed.
As the drum beats increased in tempo, her erotic dance became even
more sexually stimulating, causing the maiden's dress to slip to her
shoulders, down her luxuriant body, and to ground around her slender
feet as she gracefully sprang up into the air.
Johnson's whole body was wracked with the ungodly pain of the
thorns still jabbed into his testicles, by the many other neddles
stuck in various other places on his skin, and by the lingering
effects of the stinging poison that continued to work its way
through his taut, purplish prick. Yet, in spite of all of the
torment he felt, his eyes grew as big as silver dollars as he saw
her naked, voluptuous body gyrating wildly about before him. The
wonderful swells and valleys of her smooth skin were bathed by the
flickering light of a large bonfire that had been built nearby.
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