Re: More Shot Indians


Posted by vorgous on April 16, 2005 at 10:15:02:


Here's the second half. I hope you like it. I would be interested in what parts work and what parts do not. Not sure where to take it from the end. Cindy's post has given me an idea of the possibility of some cowgirls gathering and making a pre-emptive strike and final assault on the Indian camp. I can see possibilities of sentries and scouts being taken out by the cowgirls prior to an all-out battle. During the first group of stories I proposed the possibility of a collaborative email effort, a sort of collaborative back and forth way of creating a story, one side from perspective of the nearly always victorious cowgirls and the other (me) from the perspective of the over-confident, but ultimately utterly vanquished, humiliated, and eviscerated "Wile E Coyote"-style indians. In other words, one person might start a scene from the indian perspective and stop, leaving the next person to move it along a bit, and then the first person, take up the effort again. If there was interest in pursuing it, contact me at vorgous@yahoo.com and I could explain further. In any event, here's the second-half of this politically incorrect effort.

------------------

The indians below were incensed by the events. Three of the five braves on foot began scaling the mountainside in an effort to reach the ridge above. Squinto commanded the other two braves, who,as he, had muskets, to begin firing them up towards the ridge. The two squaws also began firing arrows to the same location. All were firing blindly. Meanwhile, Viper Fangs had spotted the entrance to the cave. She told Gargtomo, who, in turn, told her and Squinto to check the cave out.

Above, Jill and Chrissy cautiously left the cave. Jill made her way to where Cow's Ears castrated body lay and picked up his bow and quiver of arrows which lay nearby. Creeping towards the edge she was able to see the array of redskins below. Spotting a target, she let loose an arrow. It found its mark, right between the full breasts of one of the warrior squaws. Her heart pierced, she fell backwards and was dead before she hit the ground.

Chrissy, too, made her way towards the edge. She noticed the three indians scaling the mountainside. She pushed the corspe of the nearly naked brave that she had shot in the neck towards the edge. To an observer she may have done some unnecessary stroking of his still engorged member during this maneuvering. Nevertheless, after positioning him just right she pushed against his buttocks sending the corpse over the edge. The corpse bounced against the steep mountainside. More significantly, the dead weight struck one of the indians climbing, causing him to lose grip and all fall. A second of the indians scaling the mountain also was unable to avoid the now two falling figures, and he also lost his grip. All three landed at the bottom in a tangle of flesh. Each of the two dislodged indians had been mortally wounded, the back of one broken, the neck of the other. For a few minutes there would be a bit of twitching flesh in that tangle of bodies before that carrion heap would be silent.

Jill, meanwhile, had killed an indian brave with bow and arrow. The first arrow striking the indian in his naked stomach, and as he cluthed that, the second arrow entering through his left eye. That indian had staggered for a moment, then fallen over the far slope, tumbling several yards before coming to a stop. Putting aside the bow, Jill used her rifle to dispatch another brave, one of the ones with a musket, hitting the savage in the chest.

Chrissy fired her pistol, not at the indian scaling the mountainside who had nearly reached her, but at some rubble ten feet above him. Her aim was true, and caused rocks to dislodge and begin a bit of a landslide, the debris engulfed the redskin, causing him to fall. As he tumbled in a mass of increasing rock, dirt, and dust, his loincloth ripped off his engorged nether region. Battered and bruised, the naked erect redskin landed, amidst rubble, on a boulder at the bottom. The force shattered his spine, and he lay naked sprawled over the boulder face up, not yet dead, but unable to move.

Squinto and Viper Fangs had been making their way through the cave. They reached the top at this point and exited the case. Squinto aimed his musket squarely at Chrissy. "I've you dead on, one move and you're dogmeat," he called out in a venomous, oily voice.

Jill and Chrissy froze, unsure of the situation. "Turn towards me slowly," Squinto continued. Jill and Chrissy turned to face the voice and found themselves facing a dwarf half-breed and a statuesque indian warrioress. Viper Fangs approached Chrissy, and took her firearms, all the time staring intently into Chrissy's eyes. Before leaving Chrissy for Jill, Viper Fangs spit in Chrissy's face, then kneed her in the groin. Next, the warrioress took Jill's weapons from her, then slapped her face. Squinto motioned the cowgirls to the cave and yelled to the indians below that they were bringing the captives down.

Jill was first into the cave, followed by Chrissy, who Viper Fangs pushed roughly into the cave. Viper Fangs went next, her arms loaded up with the cowgirls' firearms, to be followed by Squinto.

Squinto had not noticed Rex, who had been some yards away sitting and gnawing on his bloody souvenir. As Chrissy entered the cave she whistled a brief "weewoowee." This was a signal to the alert Rex and he reacted. Seeing the half-breed, Rex rose up and ran, lunging at Squinto from the rear. The force pushed Squinto off-balance, and Chrissy gave Rex a command to attack Squinto full-force. As the dog starting growling, clawing and chewing at the half-breed, Chrissy turned on the startled Viper Fangs and started gappling with her, knocking the guns to the ground. The indian and cowgirl fell to the dusty, dirty ground. In the dimly-lit cave they clawed, beat, and scratched at one another as they rolled about and down the cave's steep inclined pathway. Chrissy's layers of clothes and coat provided much protection. The barely clothed, muscular redskin was unprotected from Chrissy's blows, and the surroundings. As they fought fiercely, Viper Fangs' sparse remnants of leather and animal hide soon ripped from her body, leaving the metal armbands as the only things on her body.

Meanwhile, Rex was savagely attacking the dwarf half-breed. He begged Jill to stop the attack. Jill gathered up the weapons, holstering her pistol and pocketing Chrissy's and slinging the rifles over her shoulder. After kicking Squinto's musket well out of reach she called on Rex to stop his attack. The half-breed, bleeding from several wounds lay exhausted. He slowly raised his head. As he did so, Jill forcibly kicked his head with her solid boot, rendering him unconscious. Turning him over, Jill directed Rex to chomp down on one of his feet and start dragging the dwarf down the cave to the lower exit. Squinto was then pulled face down, dragged along the hard, rocky cave floor. Jill then turned her attention towards the two battling women, who by now were well down the cave.

Below, Chief Battle Scars, Gargtomo, two remaining braves, and one squaw waited eagerly for the victorious return of their colleagues. They had no idea of what had befallen them in the cave, and thought only of the slow torture the killers of their tribespeople would be put through. All five were aroused by the what they viewed as a final triumph, and the blood celebration that they believed would follow. While they expected that the final, painful deaths of these women would take place back at the camp, their revenge would begin here. Gargtomo suggested to the chief that Gargtomo would ride down the trail a bit to make sure that there were no other whites skulking about. The chief agreed, and Gargtomo rode off.

In the cave, the naked Viper Fangs was bruised and battered from her fierce battle with Chrissy. Her flesh unprotected, she had been dragged across the hard floor, thrown against the ragged cave walls, pummelled with fists, and kicked and stomped upon with heavy boots. As Jill caught up to them, along with Rex dragging the unconscious dwarf, the two women were rolling down a winding rocky, dusty slope. When they stopped the nude indian was on top. She pulled her torso away from Chrissy, raised both fisted hands high in the air, and with her face twisted with a savage glare was trying to bring her fists down hard into Chrissy's face.

Unfortunately for her, Chrissy was able to shift her weight and throw the redskin off balance. Chrissy then brought her left knee up hard into the redskin's naked gut. Chrissy pushed so fiercely against the indian that she fell backwards off of Chrissy and landed on her back on the hard cave floor. Chrissy got to her feet and walked over to the indian sprawled out on the ground. Chrissy stood between the indian's spread legs and pressed her boot against the squaw's furry cunt. Viper Fangs glared; she was weakened and in intense pain. Her naked flesh was a mass of scrapes and bruises. Yet her hatred of the cowgirl was so bitter that she was as aroused as her nipples were stiff. Jill walked over. She handed Chrissy her pistol, which Chrissy holstered, and her rifle. Chrissy pressed the cold steel barrel of the rifle into the indian's stomach. "Get up, redskin bitch, and give me a reason to plug you," Chrissy said.

Viper Fang looked at the cowgirl, feeling the pressure of the rough boot against her crotch. Slowly she pushed herself up, and as she did, Chrissy gradually eased the pressure of the boot. When Viper Fangs finally stood up, Chrissy roughly pushed her about and prodded her with the rifle barrel to move forward.

As they neared the cave entrance, the naked Viper Fangs in front, prodded and pushed every few feet by Chrissy, Jill following, and Rex dragging the unconscious Squinto in the rear, the cowgirls wondered how to deal with the rest of the indians. "I reckon they assume we're the prisoners," Jill said, "but they'll know the truth soon and we don't know how many of them will be waiting." "True enough," Chrissy said, "we'll probably have to ready ourselves for a bit of a fight. We also have to be careful in case any of them decided to enter the cave."

As they spoke they were nearing the cave entrance. Viper Fangs pretended to stumble, then the wily indian twisted quickly pushing the rifle away from her. Unfortunately, the sudden action caused the rifle to fire towards the ceiling near the cave's entrance. Suddenly, rumbling sounds could be heard.

Chrissy struck the indian hard with the rifle barrel, knocking her to the ground. "Damn," Chrissy said, "we gotta get. Rex, Jill, let's go." Rex left the dwarf and ran to the entrance, as did Jill and Chrissy. All three made it out and darted for cover too quickly for the surprised indians too react.

Viper Fangs got to her feet and attempted to flee the cave as well. However, just before she got to the entrance ceiling debris began to fall, and the entrance was begining to be sealed by rock and debris. She decided to try to make it through the debris and dust filling the air as she tried to climb over, she was on her back trying the squeeze through and out.

She almost made it. As she was halfway out of the cave and halfway in it and about to make a final push to freedom, a large piece of ceiling dislodged. It landed squarely, and heavily, on Viper Fang's naked midsection, both crushing her and pinning her. On her back, her head and upper torso were outside the cave, slumped downward, with arms hanging limply from her sides. As life slowly drained from her twitching body, her eyes stared blankly at a world upside down. The lower half of her body, with legs spread apart and on top of debris was pinned inside the cave, with gravel and grit in every crevice.

Outside, Chief Battle Scars, the two braves, and one warrior squaw stared in disbelief, unable to react. Rex, seeing the horse, with the chief on it, decided to take action. The German Shepherd, barking loudly jumped out and semed to lunge at the horse. Spooked, the horse reared up on its hind legs. Jill, adding to the confusion, fired a pistol once, purposely just missing the horse. The steed bucked, throwing the chief off the horse, and began to bolt. Unfortunately for the chief, his hand was caught in the reins. As the horse ran the chief was caught beside him, and sporadically kicked by the horse's hooves. In the horse's bucking rampage, encouraged by Rex's continued barking, the chief lost his feathered headdress, as his nearly naked body flew about, being flung in the air and battered against rocks, trees, and other vegetation. Soon, the chief's screams grew silent as his battered body continued to flop to and fro like a rag doll.

Their leader destroyed, the remaining redskins were unsure of what to do. Jill and Chrissy came out in the open, firearms pointed at them. Chrissy motioned them to surrender. The indians dropped their weapons. And Chrissy motioned them in the direction of the cowgirls' wagon, some thirty yards away. As she led them their she stepped around indian corpses, and walked past the boulder where one injun lay, dead and still erect. "Gotta do something about that," Chrissy thought. At the wagon, Chrissy motioned the indians to climb in the back, then she took a coil of rope from the wagon and proceeded to bind the indians together so that they could not flee.

Gargtomo, about a quarter mile away, had heard the gunshots. He turned his steed back towards the rest of his group. Jill, not realizing that there was another indian, had started after Rex who was near the far slope and still barking at the chief's horse. The chief's horse had calmed down and was trying to dislodge the dead weight that hung on its side. The horse's effort consisted of swinging the chief's limp body, interspersed with a kick every few seconds that landed more often than not in the chief's groin. "Calm down fella," Jill said as she approached the horse and started to disentangle the chief's body from him.

So involved were Chrissy in binding the indians and Jill in unbinding the chief that neither heard Gargtomo rapidly approach.

Inside the dark cave, Squinto was stirring. He awoke in the dark to unbelievable pain. The dwarf tried to, but could not stand on the bloody stump that had been a foot. He saw a few rays of light ahead of him and crawled along the cold cave floor in that direction. Soon he could see well enough to make out what appeared to be rocks and something that appeared to be flesh. When he reached the entrance, he realized that the flesh was the lower half of a nude female. He had little doubt that it was Viper Fangs. He grabbed hold of one of her legs in an effort to pull himself up. Grabbing a tuft of her flesh higher up he pulled himself further up, his fingers literally reaching in her private area to get a handhold. Pulling himself up, he could not resist his face rubbing along her recently dead flesh. Having gotten himself up, and half laying on her, Sqinto tried to dislodge fallen debris and create a wide enough hole to escape. Pushing some depris, Sqinto was able to dislodge a small space. As he pushed himself through, his pants tore away. The nude dwarf continued to try to squeeze through the opening. On the far side he grabbed hold of what he could to pull himself. And what he grabbed first was the full mound of one of the dead warrioress' large breasts.

From a distance Gargtomo saw the cave entrance and half a naked female hanging out. From the golden bands on her arms, glistening in the sun, he knew this was Viper Fangs. His loins surged with a renewed blood lust. Then he spotted Jill by the chief's horse and galloped towards her.

Jill was focused on assisting the chief's horse. She had picked up a rusty knife held between a fallen injun's flesh and rawhide strap belt, and used it to cut through the reins. With some work, the rusty blade cut through and the chief's body dropped to the ground, and because it was at the slope's edge, the corpse tumbled down the slope for several yards before coming to a rest.

As Jill was about to drop the crude knife she heard a "whoosh" and felt herself grabbed by a rough, large hand. In one swoop, Gargtomo lifted her off the ground, and continued riding down the slope towards the river bank. Unable to move much, Jill had time to secrete the knife in her boot. Down near the muddy river bank the indian threw Jill hard to the muddy ground. Then the towering, bald redskin quickly dismounted, and approached the half-dazed Jill, and pressed himself against her, removing her pistol and flinging it off to the side. Through her daze, Jill could feel the injun's breath and, even through her clothes, sense his muscular massive flesh. The look in his face told her foggy brain that he was about to rape her.

Squinto, meanwhile, was still attempting to escape the cave by squeezing through the rocks and debris. Using Viper Fang's large breast as a handhold had excited has loins, and notwithstanding his extreme pain, he was firmly erect. He was almost out, just inches to go. And, then it happened. He had pulled his legs though, and lay flat against the rocky debris. He was about to let go and drop to the ground, when the debris shifted. Unfortunately, when it shifted his erect member had been in a crevice, and the shift of rock and debris filled the crevice, crushing against his engorged penis. Not only was Squinto suffering intense pain, he could not pull himself from the crevice. Nor could he let go, because the his entire weight would be pulling against the trapped penis. He could do nothing but continue his tight grasp of Viper Fang's dead breast and use his other hand and feet to press himself against the debris -- and scream. His cries were heard by Rex who ran over and started jumping at and trying to paw Squinto's backside in an effort to pull him away from the cave. They were heard by Chrissy, who looked over and laughed. Unfortunately, Squinto's cries also obscured the attack taking place down by the river bank.

Having disarmed the half-conscious Jill, Gargtomo moved his body slightly away from the cowgirl, and pushed aside the flaps of Jill's coat. Pushing her legs apart, he straddled the cowgirl, then ripped open her shirt. Jill sensed this, thinking, "not another ripped shirt," as the recollection of the attack by the campfire only a few days earlier roused her to conciousness.

Looking up, Jill saw the redskin giant with hateful lust in his eyes. The indian drew a gleaming bowie knife from his waistband and menacingly displayed it in Jill's face. "l'm going to have my way with you white bitch," the redskin swore, "and then you'll pay for what you did to my mate."

Jill said nothing. Gargtomo moved the knife slowly down the middle of the cowgirl's chest and between her breasts. Jill could see a swelling in the indian's groin. Then the indian brought the knife down to his rawhide belt, and cut it to release his loincloth. The indian took hold of his loincloth and tossed it aside, showing his complete nakedness.

Jill could not believe her eyes. She was astounded at the size of the erect member that she saw. She wondered how so massive a man as this redskin could be so small. She almost laughed at Gargtomo's tiny engorged penis, but was able to control herself. The naked indian was oblivious to Jill's reaction; he raised his body slightly off of the cowgirl and was ready to pull down her trousers. The lust within him so great; he felt as though he could barely control his erection.

And then it happened. Jill was able to move her hand to her boot and withdraw the rusty knife. She was able in one quick motion to swing her arm around and thrust the knife deep within the brave. The rusted knife imbedded itself to its hilt right next to the injun's own penis.

Gargtomo was startled. He dropped his own blade and looked down. There, jutting out of his body appeared to be two penises -- his own and the handle of a blade. He grabbed the knife handle in agony and his large hand curled around both the knife and his own member. As his penis felt the flesh around it, it jerked, and the indian orgasmed, ejaculating into the air. Jill felt some of the stickiness and reacted violently, pushing against the indian.

Gargtomo tumbled off the cowgirl, and onto the mud on his back, still holding his own penis as he spasmed on the ground. Jill, meanwhile, let loose a string of obscenities, "Damn, fucking injun bastard, goddamn torn shirt and scum on me. You stupid jerk-off. God-damn you stupid fuck. You tiny prick." As Jill spewed these obscenities she stood up and kicked the indian a few times. Then, as she pulled her torn shirt to cover her breasts, she spat on the dying injun a few times. She picked up the indian's knife and walked away from the dying indian who still was holding his own penis. "God-damn fucking bastard, at least I'll have a decent knife, stupid little prick," Jill continued as she walked towards the slope and up to where her and Chrissy's wagon was.

At the top of the slope, still cursing, Jill noticed Rex pawing at something by the former cave entrance. Then she looked towards the wagon. As her eyes scanned over, she saw Chrissy. Chrissy seemed to be atop something and rocking up and down. Jill started towards Chrissy and then realized what the cowgirl was doing. "Oh, fer cryin' out out loud," Jill exclaimed, "I'm fighting for my life and you're humping a dead redskin."

Chrissy looked over with a sheepish grin. She was atop the the indian who had landed on the boulder face up and erect. Jill walked past her and towards the wagon. She looked over the three bound indians, all tied together. "Some trip," Jill griped.

Jill then strode over to the cave entrance where Squinto still clung in futile desperation. "Help me," he pleaded, "please help." Ignoring the dwarf, she lifted one of Viper Fangs' limp arms and examined her armband. "Not bad," Jill observed, "perhaps not a total loss." Jill pulled the band off the corpse. Then she directed her attention to the other arm and took that one as well. She remembered that Gargtomo had also worn gold bands and started back towards him.

"Please free me," Squinto pleaded. Jill turned back, and peered over the naked half-breed to see how he was trapped. When she saw his engorged penis stucked in the rocky debris she observed, "Gosh little man, you're bigger than the bald-headed injun was, but Ican only see one way to free you." "Please do it," Squinto pleaded. "All right, but you best close your eyes because it'll hurt a bit," Jill sighed.

When Squinto closed his eyes, the cowgirl drew the knife she had recovered from Gargtomo and with one quick slash, severed the penis of the unsuspecting dwarf. He let go a piercing scream as he released his tight grip on Viper Fangs' dead breast and, with blood gushing about, he dropped to the ground. Shocked by the blood Rex ran off. Jill too walked off, leaving the multilated dwarf writhing about on the ground.

Jill headed down the slope back towards the dead would-be rapist, his dick still in his hand. Then she removed one the bands from his other arm. Finally, prying his hand off his penis, he removed his second. Then she put his hand back around his penis. "No sense disturbing the dead," she thought.

Walking back up the slope, she yelled, "Chrissy, time to clear out." "What about our gold cave," Chrissy replied. "Guess we can put some brush to cover up the entrance down here," Jill suggested, "and then take the trail that leads to the upper ridge to clean it up." "Fine by me, you take care of this one and I'll be ready," Chrissy answered.

Jill sighed, and went to the wagon to get a shovel. Then she returned to Viper Fangs' naked corpse. Squinto was still squealing in agony. Jill grabbed the castrated dwarf and tossed him aside. Then she dug up some dirt and threw a few shovelfuls over the dead squaw. After that, she cut some bushes and other vegetation and draped them over the dead indian. Soon the corpse was pretty well obscured. Chrissy arrived just as the work was done. "We'll need to move the indian corpses out of the way so no one passing by will look here too closely," Jill suggested.

Jill and Chrissy began clearing the area of the dead injuns. Before that, though, they picked up the still squirming dwarf carried him over to the swope and threw him down the slope. Then they pick up each of the other corpses on the trail and piled the dead flesh atop the half-breed dwarf.

Soon they were done, called Rex back to the wagon, and began to drive off, with the chief's horse tied to the wagon and following behind. As they rode towards the path winding up to the higher ridge, their prisoners with them, they noticed little movements in the injun pile and heard the muffled squeals of the dwarf.

Once at the upper ridge they quickly concealed the cave entrance there, then began to wonder what to do about their prisoners.

"What are we going to do with two braves and a squaw?" Jill wondered. "Got me," Chrissy replied, "maybe target practice." That don't seem right," Jill mused, "actually, I'm kind of tired of all this killing. Maybe we should just them go." Chrissy was unsure, and suggested that they best give that a bit of thought. "All right," Jill said, "but let's ride a bit, per haps into the desert." "Fine by me, " Chrissy replied, "but best fill up our water pouches first."

Jill drove the wagon down to the river, not too far from her earlier fight with Gargtomo, and began to fill the water pouches. Chrissy saw Gargtomo's body and walked towards it. The naked corpse lay in the mud, bugs and worms had started roaming the giant redskin's flesh. In the distance, the muffled sound of the dwarf could be heard from under the pile of dead flesh. Chrissy knelt over Gargtomo's corpse, wondering about his size. She pried open his hand and let his arm drop to the side, then she pulled out the rusted knife and dropped it in the mud.

Gargtomo's small penis flopped to the side. "Gosh, so tiny for such a large savage," Chrissy laughed, cupping it in her hand. She fondled the dead flesh for a moment, all the time belittling the dead indian.

Meanwhile, back at the wagon, Jill was considering washing Gargtomo's scum off her body by taking a dip in the river. In the wagon, the captured indians had been quiet, but busy trying to untie themselves. And, with Jill and Chrissy occupied, they had been successful, even with the dog who was now resting on top of them. They were waiting for the right time to make their move. The thought that they would be sucessful where the others had, plus their naked flesh flush against each other, filled them with excitement.

Unsuspecting, Jill turned away from the wagon and removed her long duster coat. She also removed her boots and started towards the river to feel how cold it was. The indians saw this as their chance. The three would jump and disarm Jill and then overcome the other cowgirl. They pushed the tired Rex aside and ran towards Jill. As they reached Jill, one of the two half-naked two braves jumped Jill from behind and both tumbled to the ground. The warrioress and other brave jumped on top of them. Jill fought against the pile of flesh trying to keep control of her pistol. Although upset by her predicament, she realized that it was a good thing that one of the redskins had not picked up her rifle from the front of the wagon.

Chrissy heard the commotion, and headed back from Gargtomo's corpse. She was concerned that if she fired a weapon she might hit Jill. Jill, meanwhile had managed to keep control of her pistol. Sliding it out of its holster she fired once and prayed. She heard a load grunt and was glad it was not her own voice. Meanwhile, Chrissy had reached the scene and had thrust the barrel of her rifle hard in the flesh of one of the indians. "Best stop," Chrissy commanded.

The struggling stop. The squaw stood up as did one of the braves. The other one lay across Jill, not moving. Jill pushed the dead indian off to one side and stood up herself.

"That's it," Jill said, "I've had it. You want to fight -- fine, but not me." She pointed her pistol towards the indians. "You savages are going to fight each other," Jill continued, and she pushed the squaw at the brave. "Now," Jill yelled, exasperated, and fired at their feet, fight, now, or die." Then she pointed the gun at each of their heads. "Fight," she repeated, "now."

The muscular, buxom squaw faced the bronzed brave. Each wondered what the other would do. The warrioress made up her mind. She tightened her face and suddenly lunged at the brave's midsection with a headbutt, catching the brave offguard.

The brave fell back and lost his balance. As he fell, the squaw jumped upon him pounding him in his barely-covered genitals. The brave was in agony, but managed to knee the squaw in the groin, then pushed her off and threw her up and over him. She landed on her back in the river, her leather vest flying open exposing her ample breasts and erect nipples. Rubbing his pained genitals, the brave stood up. Through the pain, the thought of grappling with and conquering the half-naked squaw filled him desire.

Chrissy, pointing to the bulge in the brave's loinclth remarked to Jill, "Not bad, huh." Meanwhile, the squaw stood up, water dripping off of her and turned towards the brave. He came at her and the started grappling, both standing knee-deep in the flowing stream. They fell over, making a big splash, and started clawing on another. As they struggled, they moved a bit deeper in the water.

The brave pushed the squaw's head under the water. She struggled mightily, waving her arms about. One of her hands grabbed onto the front flap of the brave's loincloth, and she pulled hard. The result was excrutiating pain to the brave's genitals. He released his grip, and she was able to bring her head above the surface and breath. Having gotten some air she purposely ducked down in the water and again grabbed the brave's genitals throught the loincloth. She squeezed hard and twisted her hand. Jill and Chrissy watched the brave's expression of overwhelming agony and heard him scream loudly. Still grasping and squeezing and twist, the squaw surfaced for more air.

The brave reached for the squaw's neck in an effort to choke her and stop the pain. Clasping her throat, he started throttling her. She released her grasp on him brutally clawing and tugging his loincloth. As a result, his engorged penis became uncovered. She reached up with her hands to stop the choking. Both lost their footing, The brave, to try to steady himself reached out, catching hold of the squaw's vest. He grabbed it with such force that the vest ripped off the squaw, fully exposing her large, erect breasts.

In the water, the two indians continued to claw at one another savagely. The brave, though, began to get the upper hand. He came up behind the half-naked warrioress, brought his arm around her throat, and, holding his all but naked body against her tightly, began squeezing the life from her. The squaw could feel the brave's uncovered hard, erect throbbing and thrusting penis against her backside as life drained from her. She was helpless. Suddenly, however, the brave's grasp relaxed and he fell backwards away from her.

Jill had decided to take things in her own hands. She had thrown Gargtomo's knife, triking and imbedding it squarely and deeply in the brave's lower back immediately paralyzing him, as well as robbing him of his victory, his orgasm, and, shortly, his life. The squaw, upset at the brave for having fought her, turned about and grabbed him before he floated away. Bending forward, she brought her mouth over his erect penis sticking out of the water. The dying brave watched helplessly as the squaw took his engorged penis in her mouth, bit hard on it, and violently shook her head about in an effort to rip it from his body. For twenty or thirty seconds she ground her teeth into his flesh, jerking to and fro. The dying brave, unable to move or even make a sound, stared eyes open, his mind imagining every agonizing moment of the squaw's enraged mutilation of his manhood.

For what seemed an eternity, the squaw bit and ground her teeth, and then in a mighty jerk she pulled her face away in victory. Her face ironically expressed the same satisfaction Rex had displayed hours earlier. And in her mouth she held and shook the same type of souvenir Rex had hours earlier -- the bloody, ragged stump of a brave's penis.

Blood spurted over the face and chest of the squaw. She removed her souvenir and thrust it into the brave's open mouth. Secretly, she reached under the brave and withdrew the knife embedded in him. Then she let go of the brave and allowed the current to carry him. His paralyzed body drifted downstream a few yards and came to rest against the shore, stuck in muck.

The squaw held the knife behind her back and strode towards the shore -- not trying to flee the cowgirls. She used the knife to cut her skirt off as she waded through the water.

As the squaw stepped from the water, her skirt fell away -- leaving her completely nude. Once on the muddy shore the naked squaw stood defiantly before the cowgirls. Then, in a swift motion, and as she said, "there no nothing for me," she brought the knife to the front and, holding it in both hands, she raised it high in the air over her head. Befor either cowgirl could react, she brought the knife down in front of her in an arc, and then thrust it hard up into her cunt. She let go of the handle, and the knife remained embedded in her.

She staggered in the muddy river bank, the knife grotesquely jutting out of her. She said, "Me no got nothing. Me no let you. Me decide."

"Gosh," Chrissy sighed, "we were going to let you go." "Yep, that's right," Jill said.

The naked squaw stared in disbelief. She staggered about as life drained from her. Then she started to weaken and fell face forward dead in the mud, her buttocks sticking up. Chrissy walked over, and with her boot turned the squaw over on her back. She lay, mud and muck encrusted, spread-eagled, on the ground. "She can have the knife," Jill said resignedly.

The cowgirls went back to the wagon. They called Rex, who had been sniffing and pawing the dead, castrated brave, over and drove away.

As they drove off they could still hear some faint, muffled sounds from within the dead indian pile under which Squinto lay dying and squirming. For several hours Squinto, the half-breed, castrated, naked dwarf, lay pressed against on all sides by the dead flesh of his indian colleagues. Before taking his last breath, their naked bodies and his began to be explored and nibbled at by all sorts of crawling vermin. Helpless, Squinto endured the agony of crawling, biting, stinging, and feeding of ants, worms, flies, mosquitoes that roamed across his battered flesh and in his orifices and boody wounds. The naked flesh of corpses of formerly vital indians pressed against Squinto's naked flesh. The half-breed was in a sea of flesh. Those corpses could not feel these vermin as they and, later, animals came by to dine on their flesh -- but Squinto could.