Captive Travelers Read Online Free Page A

ignoring his antics while they built a rough campsite and fire.
    “They love to humiliate us,” Clara’s voice echoed in warning. “I think they like that, more than the other things.” Clara had spent eight years as a captive to an Indian.
    Rebecca lifted her tearing eyes and she studied Tocho. She remembered Clara’s gasp of recognition, and she realized that he must have been her captor. Tocho felt her looking at him, and he stared directly at her with absolutely no expression or emotion. Rebecca quickly dropped her eyes, thinking about the painful punishment Clara had endured. You’re wrong, Clara. They like the ‘other’ things, too.
    Rebecca sat in silence, her breasts bared to the savages and her large brown nipples tightening in the cool air. The Indians gnawed off bites of jerky and drank something from a leather flask. They were still talking about her, and several times they looked over. Many of the times the glances were accompanied by laughter, and her face flushed deeper in shame.
    Tokala stood up and walked over to her again. Rebecca panicked and kicked him once, and then she tried to push back against the tree. “Ganali, let me see what it is I now own.” His eyes narrowed, and she began screaming behind the gag. Tokala grabbed the material at her waist, and he pulled.
    The thin material ripped easily, and Rebecca realized that although he was not as big as the others he was still very strong. She kept kicking and screaming, batting and clawing with her hands, while he pulled the dress from her. The Indian kept smiling his cruel leer and clucking excitedly until she was naked.
    Rebecca tried to curl her big thighs up to cover her pussy. There were six men staring at her. Some were laughing, and some looked as though they were getting aroused. Oh god. It’s a dream. It’s all some crazy nightmare. None of this is real. No matter how she tried, her fear would not allow her to claim the shocked numbness she was begging for.
    “Ganali, up,” Tokala demanded, and began pulling on the leash.
    Rebecca shook her head wildly, knocking off her cotton cap. Her hair was a mass of short, bleached, blonde curls. A heroine in one of her novels wore sassy blonde curls, and Rebecca decided it would suit her. Tokala pushed his fingers through the strands and pulled. There was a look of disgust on his face. “Why did you shave your head?”
    Was it not bad enough that the shaman had announced he had pulled the bit of ox tail with the tooth of the fox? Tokala was proud to be a rare warrior with a white woman of his own, even if she was an ox… but her shaven hair was an embarrassment. He took this as another insult to a warrior, as if she had planned it.
    Rebecca shook her head, terrified of the Indian and trying to push him away, while he gripped her hair and forced to stand. He dragged her to the fire, with her feet giving way and her knees buckling. Tokala stood straight, keeping his fingers threaded through her short hair. “You see my ox?” he bragged. “This is Ganali.”
    Tocho studied her for a moment. Like most his friends, Tocho did not understand why the shaman cast the fox tooth when so many warriors did not have a captive. He did not question the shaman’s reading, though the spirits had once more proven their signs were mysterious. He threw a small twig on the fire, and said, “You have a bald white ox, Tokala. She is a big beast for a fox.” The other Indians laughed.
    Tokala’s eyes narrowed. How dare they make fun of me? Tocho is the only one of them to be honored with a white woman of his own. He bowed out his chest. “She is mine.”
    “Easy, Tokala, we know Ganali belongs to you,” Tocho placated. He knew he had stepped over the line by suggesting the man could not handle her. Tokala was very strong and fast… for his size.
    Tokala reached between Rebecca’s legs. Even with her thighs pressed together there was a generous mat of dark brown curls for him to grab. “Besides, she is