How Ronny Throckmorton Was Saved From The Indians

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3

Chaper One

Badger Claw peered into the distance, at the cloud of dust coming toward his small band of braves. He could tell it was Yellow Water's band from the careless way they let everyone know where they were. They had been raiding again, even though the chief had told them to cease that activity. Yellow Water didn't listen to anybody, not even the chief. He wanted to be chief himself, but he was too cowardly to challenge Grey Cloud. Instead he complained that Grey Cloud gave in to the white man, that Grey Cloud was a weak leader, that the tribe had suffered since Grey Cloud became chief. He conveniently forgot to mention that the only reason the members of the tribe were still alive was because of Grey Cloud's skillful dealings with the white man.

Yellow Water hated the white man more than anything else in the world ... except perhaps Badger Claw. He hated Badger Claw the same as he hated the white man, because Badger Claw was white. Then he hated Badger Claw a little more than the white man because Badger Claw was a better Indian than Yellow Water was. Everyone said that ... and it made Yellow Water almost insane with jealousy.

Badger Claw had once been known as Ronald Throckmorton Jr, back when he was five years old. He had a couple of very dim memories of a white woman who made him feel warm and safe, and of some of the things the white people used in their lodges that never moved. But that was all. He knew he had been taken from the woman in a raid fifteen summers ago. He had been treated like a slave, which was how all captives were treated. But he had rebelled. He fought anyone who tried to make him do anything, earning many beatings until at last, when he was older, the elders of the tribe got tired of fighting with him and put him into training with the braves.

Then he had to fight them for a place of honor in their society. And when he fought he kicked, scratched, bit and used anything that came to hand to inflict as much damage as he possibly could. His policy was that if he had to fight, he wanted to fight a man only once. Regardless of the outcome of the fight, he wanted the opponent to go away thinking "I never want to fight that boy again." That was how he got his name.

Yellow Water was the first boy he beat in a fight. Yellow Water had hated him ever since. He used to make comments about Badger Claw and spread lies about him. But Badger Claw went to him and challenged him to another fight over a lie he had told. Yellow Water, who had been named for the fact that, as a young boy, when he was frightened, wet himself, could not refuse to fight.

For almost a week after that, Yellow Water peed red instead of yellow. Now he knew better than to say things about his enemy, but he dreamed about getting even. He didn't want to kill Badger Claw. He wanted to embarrass him ... make the other men laugh at him ... discredit him as a member of the tribe. He wanted to crush his hated foe's spirit.

Badger Claw knew there would be trouble as soon as he saw what Yellow Water had done. Yellow Water had taken captives. Two young males, a female a little older than them, and a woman. The soldiers would surely retaliate, and their vengeance would be terrible. Badger Claw had seen what the new weapon they had could do. By turning a crank many bullets spat out of the gun, like hail from a cloud. His people would have no chance.

The raiders rode up to his band, hooting and howling about their bravery. The captives had been tied and then beaten. Badger Claw could tell, because there were no marks on the tied hands. The captives had been unable to defend themselves. Badger Claw frowned. Yellow Water was spreading his cowardice to his friends.

"Let them go" he ordered Yellow Water when the braves had finally quieted.

Yellow River had found whiskey at the farm they had raided. No men had been present. The older woman had killed three braves with her rifle before one had snuck up behind her and knocked her unconscious. Yellow Water had plans for her. "I am no coward like some people I know" he boasted, knowing better than to name Badger Claw as one of those cowards. "I have taken captives, and they are mine to do with as I please."

Badger Claw looked at the captives again. The boys looked alike, as if they were two kernels of corn. They had seen perhaps thirteen summers. The girl had yellow hair, was perhaps sixteen summers old, and something deep inside Badger Claw stirred when he looked at her. She was frightened, and badly enough that she shook with her fear. The woman looked gray and there was blood soaking her left shoulder and back. She would die if that wound was not tended. The girl spoke to the woman.

"Mamma! That one's a white man! Look Mamma! We're saved!"

Yellow Water casually backhanded the girl hard enough to fling her to the ground where she lay, sobbing. There was nothing Badger Claw could do. He took his men and continued to hunt.

Later that night there was a meeting of the council. The elders were not pleased with Yellow Water. They, too, knew that the soldiers would come and many people would die. But Yellow Water was not sorry. He said they had just gone to the farm to ask for something to eat, and the woman had killed like a coward, from hiding. His friend had been killed by this woman.

Badger Claw looked at the others who had been with Yellow Water. All were worthless on a hunt, but they looked unhappy now, as if the truth were not being told. Badger claw's mouth dropped open as he heard Yellow Water boast that he would decorate his lodge with the woman's hair. Their tribe did not take the hair of their enemies, like some people. It was not a worthy or honorable thing to do.

There was murmuring among the council. Yellow Water knew he had gone too far. Badger Claw saw his chance. He stood. "You are a coward, who brings the soldiers down on our people. I say you lie."

There was silence. Such a thing must be challenged. If not Yellow Water would have no honor at all. Badger Claw didn't wait. "I will rid the tribe of this bringer of doom. I challenge him for the right to own the captives. When they are mine I will take them back and release them to the soldiers."

Mouths were open. Such a challenge was rare. To fight for ownership of captives meant a fight to the death. The one challenged chose what weapons could be used, which usually gave that person a distinct advantage.

Yellow Water stood as if frozen. He was almost as pale as Badger Claw. All eyes were on him. "Knives" he said, his voice almost a whisper. "Mine is in my lodge." He turned and left. Badger Claw started after, knowing, just as everyone else, that no person went anywhere without his fighting knife. Yellow Water began running and the whole camp erupted. Yellow Water reached his lodge and ducked inside. There were screams from the lodge. Badger Claw knew better than to use the entrance. He nodded to one of his friends and, together, they slit a tall triangle to one side and let it fall so that they could see inside.

Yellow Water had one of the twins between him and Badger Claw. He had jerked the boy's head back and his knife was laid at his throat. The other boy was tied to the yellow haired girl, who was screaming. The woman had been stripped and staked out inside the lodge, her arms and legs pointing the the four winds. There were unmistakable signs that she had been beaten and bred ... perhaps repeatedly.

Others saw this too, and a hush came over the tribe. No one acted like this! This was not what a real person did, even to captives. Yellow Water would be banished for doing this to the woman. He snarled. "I'll kill them all if you don't leave me alone. Then the soldiers will kill all of you!"

Badger Claw turned slightly away from Yellow Water and reversed his fighting knife. "Get Back!" he yelled loudly, as if he were doing what Yellow Water demanded. Then, fluidly, he turned and threw. His knife blossomed from Yellow water's forehead, just above and between his eyes. Yellow Water dropped like a stone.

There was a general exclamation by the watching tribesmen. By tribal law, the fight had been completed properly, if only technically. Yellow Water had said "knives" and Badger Claw had used a knife.

Gray Cloud stepped forward. "Badger Claw has won these captives with honor. Let no one say otherwise." He turned to Badger Claw. "Hasten away with these white people. I think they are nothing but trouble." He looked at the woman who had been brutalized. "She will want revenge. This could end badly for us all."

Badger Claw frowned. "I will take them to the soldiers. Perhaps they will listen to me, as I look like them. I will tell them that a criminal took them and was punished. I will tell them he is dead. These people will tell them as well." he pointed to the captives.

Gray Cloud nodded hopefully.

Badger Claw watched the last of his fellow tribesmen walk away from what had been Yellow Water's lodge. Then he turned to look at "his" captives. No one had touched them. Yellow Water lay sprawled, staring lifelessly up at the smoke hole. Badger Claw sighed. Weapons first. It would be difficult to get his knife out of that skull.

He knelt and there was a cracking sound as he worked the knife back and forth, widening the hole. He didn't dare move it sideways for fear of breaking the blade. The yellow haired girl cried out each time Yellow Water's bones broke a little more. Finally, with a yank, the knife came loose. He wiped it on Yellow Water's loincloth. He turned to the woman, still tied to stakes of wood driven into the earth. She had been straining to pull those stakes out and the rawhide binding her had cut into her wrists and ankles making her bleed. She was very pale and in bad shape, but the head wound had stopped bleeding. There was a mass of black, crusted blood in her hair. She was bruised and dirty. Yellow Water had beaten her as he raped her. He had also apparently thought it was fun to spill his seed on the outside of her body, as she was splattered with that too. On impulse Badger Claw inspected the dirt around her. None of the others had taken part. There was only one set of footprints around her.

It was too bad. She had been a pretty woman. Now she looked almost dead. He could deal with that later ... if she didn't die. He bent over her with the knife and saw her eyes widen in fear. She thought he was going to kill her. Some dim memory bubbled up and he said the word "No". Her eyes registered and he realized he had spoken her language. He cut her ankles free first, holding out his hand to her, as if soothing a wild horse as he approached it. Then her left wrist. Most people favored the other hand for most things, including using weapons. He paused and they looked at each other. She was breathing hard at the thought of being free. Again he held out his hand and, maintaining eye contact, he cut the last of her bonds. She rubbed her wrists and moaned in pain as the blood came back into lifeless fingers and toes. She had been tied tightly. She did not try to get up.

He turned to the others. The yellow haired girl began keening and he was surprised to hear the woman behind him say something forcefully and the girl went quiet. He cut her loose from the twin and took her arm, pulling her to where she could help the woman sit up. The twin that Yellow Water had threatened, still stood beside Yellow Water's body, staring at it. Badger Claw realized this twin was a girl, and not a boy after all. As he looked at her she rejoined her brother and they stared at him with big eyes. They looked remarkably alike and had pressed against each other, probably for comfort. They were frightened too, but better at controlling it than the older girl. He turned back to the woman. He heard the movement behind him and knew the boy was attacking. He suspected the boy would try for his throat, and so he ducked, letting the youth impact on his back. Then he bent forward and helped the boy fly through the air. He landed on his back in the dirt and air exploded from his lungs. Badger Claw moved and put his foot on the boy's chest as he gasped for air. "No!" he said again, staring down at the boy. His knife was still in his hand. He showed it to the boy and then pointed at the boy's empty hands. "No," he said a last time. He took his foot off and put his knife away.

The woman was sitting up now. She looked weak but determined. He glanced around. Her clothes had been cut off her body while she was tied. All he saw were a couple of ratty blankets, but he picked up one and offered it to the woman, to cover her nakedness. He knew white people thought about nakedness differently than his people. She looked at the blanket, and then at Yellow Water. Then she spoke the word "No", and spat toward the corpse. She would rather go naked than wear something that had belonged to her tormentor.

They made a miserable sight as he shepherded them across the camp to his lodge. The woman spoke to the others almost without stopping as they walked slowly along. They said nothing in return, but they didn't give him trouble. The woman tried to walk proudly, standing as tall as she could, but she shuffled. She was weak. He sighed. She would not be able to travel for a week or more, and the soldiers would come looking for her before that. He didn't own enough horses to take them all back at the same time.

Once he got them into his lodge he picked up his water bag and handed it to the boy. He pointed toward the stream. Surprise and then amazement flitted across the boy's face, but he accepted the bag and left. It was only a short distance to the water and the boy was back soon, holding out the dripping bag. Badger Claw pointed at the rest of them and at the bag, and the boy went to give them something to drink. Badger Claw rooted around in his things and came up with an old pot he had found near one of the houses on wheels the white men used to cross the prairie. The wagon had been burned and there were bones scattered about. He had taken several things he found interesting. The pot was good for heating water, and heated water was better for cleaning wounds. He started a fire, got water from the boy, who had to go for more, and put the pot on. He needed cloth. Thinking back to the rags of the woman's clothing, he motioned to the boy again. He went to the two girls, who were standing close to each other. He tugged on their dresses and pointed to the naked woman, who had lain down on his furs and was resting from her walk. Then he tugged their dresses and pointed at her again. He pointed back toward Yellow Water's lodge and pantomimed the boy going there and picking something up off the ground. A light went on in the boy's eyes and he left. Shortly he was back with the ruined dress, smiling.

Badger Claw smiled back at him.

The water was hot and Badger Claw had torn pieces from the woman's dress. It was getting late. It would take a long time to get the woman clean and make sure her wounds would not fester. He'd need more wood. He held up a piece of firewood to the boy and pointed to all three of the youths. The yellow haired girl didn't want to go and she resisted. She pointed at the woman and folded her arms across her chest, with a stubborn look on her face. Badger Claw didn't want to argue, and he wasn't sure she wouldn't try to run away anyway, so he nodded. The twins left together, holding hands.

He set the pot of water beside his furs. Then he rooted around in his things for his bag of medicine. It was made by an old woman in the tribe who knew plants and healing. All the people used it. He opened it and sniffed the pungent odor of the herbs. He held it to the woman's nose and she sniffed. The woman's eyes glittered in the light of the fire, but she lay relaxed. She knew what he was going to do, and she was going to let him. Her head wound worried him the most, but it would take the longest, so he worked on her wrists first. His pouch of salve was full, and he rubbed that into the raw flesh. He knew it would sting at first, but then the pain would vanish, so her moan didn't come as a surprise. Neither did the bloom of her smile as she looked at the wrist he had just done while he worked on the other one. She spoke to the yellow haired girl, but he ignored them while he treated the woman's ankles.

Then he began washing her body.

For the first time she reacted. As he washed Yellow Water's semen, and accumulated dirt off of the woman's legs and thighs, she jerked to a sitting position and her hands raised, as if to stop him. He looked at her and continued cleaning the leg he was holding. When one of her hands came down and covered the light brown hair between her legs, he got the idea and handed her another dampened cloth. She cleaned herself vigorously there, crying out with pain and then threw the cloth toward the opening of his lodge. He continued, working over her other leg and, as he took an arm and began cleaning it, she let him.

She leaned sideways, suddenly, and then fell backwards, but her eyes were still open. He continued with her other arm and then started on her stomach and chest. Her hands came up to cover the dark tips of her milk bags, but she didn't try to stop him from cleaning the rest of her. It took some time, as he swabbed away the dirt and crusted semen. Her breasts were large and soft as he rubbed them clean, working around her fingers, which she kept in place. These breasts did not fall down to her sides, like an old woman's.

She watched his face as he worked on her. The yellow haired girl said something, and the woman shook her head. Badger Claw cleaned her neck and face next, carefully applying the salve to the angry bruise on her cheek. When he was finished he sat back on his haunches and her arms fell to her sides. Her nipples were still dirty. He soaked another rag and handed it to her. At the question in her eyes he touched one nipple. She flinched, and he saw pain in her eyes, but she took the rag and began very lightly swabbing the tips of her breasts.

Then he understood the pain. As the dirt and scum came off he saw that Yellow Water had bitten the woman's nipples ... hard. The skin wasn't broken, but there was bruising in the half moon shape of a man's teeth. It must be very painful. He scooped out a fingerful of the salve and held it out, over her chest. He expected her to take it onto her own finger to apply it, but she gritted her teeth, closed her eyes and nodded fractionally. He was gentle as his finger swirled the salve onto one and then the other swollen tip. She cried out as the sting took effect, but then sagged back, limp as it took away the pain. Her eyes stayed closed. He leaned back and looked at the yellow haired girl. Her eyes were wide and white in the firelight, but the abject fear was gone. The woman's head wound needed cleansing, but it was too dark inside. He felt her forehead. It was cool. It could wait until morning.

The twins came in with armfuls of wood and dropped it beside the fire. Badger Claw got into his bag of dried meat and handed it around to everyone. He would have to do more hunting. Then he surveyed his stock of furs. He didn't have enough for them all. The woman would need heat to survive the night with her loss of blood. He laid out one fur and moved her to it. He took his largest and laid it on the other side of the fire. He pointed at the twins and then at that fur, making them lie down together. Then he folded the fur over the top of them. Taking his last fur he pointed to one side of the woman and had yellow hair lie there, to warm that side of her. He added wood to the fire and then took off his leggings and loin cloth so his skin would touch the woman's.

He stood naked in the firelight, tall, strong, well muscled, scarred and deeply tanned. His long dirty blond hair was braided down his back. Yellow hair gasped and stared at the long thick thing hanging between his legs. She began to make the mourning noise in her throat, and the fear was back in her eyes. The woman opened her eyes, half lidded and saw him too. Her head turned to yellow hair but she spoke only one word: "Hush". His memory perked up at that word. The white woman he remembered had used that word to him when she wanted him to be quiet.

He lay down, pulled the last fur over the three of them, molded his body to the woman's, and slept.

When he woke it was early. The fire had died down, but there were coals left and as soon as he threw some small pieces of wood on it flickered back to life. He stood to go outside to relieve himself. His penis was hard, as it was most mornings. He saw the glitter of two pairs of eyes watching him. The woman and yellow hair peeked at him over the edge of the fur.

He ignored them and left.

He heard the flap and looked over his shoulder to see the boy following him. He showed the boy where to relieve himself and stood, enjoying the feeling of the urine flushing through his penis and the pain fading away from holding it in.

When he got back to the lodge the others were all up. The woman was heating more water in the pot and she handed the empty skin to the girl twin, who nodded and left to refill it. Badger Claw knelt and drew in the dirt. He drew a circle that was his lodge, and then circles of the lodges near his. He drew the stream. The woman nodded, understanding what it meant. He put his finger on his lodge and pointed all around him. She nodded again. He pointed at each of them and then put his thumb down on his lodge and held it there. He pointed at the other lodges and shook his head. She understood. They were not to go there. He drew a path to the stream and nodded his head. Then he got his rifle and left.

He shot a small deer and field dressed it, leaving its innards for Brother Raven. He took the rest back to his lodge to preserve with smoke. He dropped the carcass beside his outside fire pit. When he lifted the flap he heard a small shriek. The yellow haired one was naked and was washing her body with a rag. The woman had been asleep, but was awakened by the noise. The smell inside the lodge was of unwashed bodies. Clearly they did not know how to bathe. He grabbed yellow hair's wrist and pulled her out of the lodge. She screamed and pulled, trying to free herself from his grip. In the end he slung her over his shoulder, which was still bloody from carrying the deer, as she kicked and screamed like a banshee. The woman came lurching out of the lodge, followed by the twins, but by then he was halfway to the stream. The woman yelled something and he turned around. He beckoned them toward him while yellow hair fought to get off his shoulder. She was crying now. He walked to the stream, to the deep part, and threw her in.

It took him a moment to realize she couldn't swim.

He had to go in himself and hold her head above water by grabbing her hair. She tried to climb on top of his head and he pushed her away. He dove under the water as she sank, flailing, and grabbed her hair again. Then he swam, towing her, toward the sand, where she could stand up. She was coughing and fighting. When he got to the shallow part he stood up as she flailed even more.

"She must be feeble minded" he thought as she continued to drown in water she could stand up in.

He finally reached in, grabbed her waist and stood her up. He heard a noise from the shore and looked to see all three of the others laughing. Yellow hair pushed the hair out of her face. Badger Claw handed her the rag she had been using to wash herself and stepped back, cleaning the deer's blood off his torso and arms. Yellow hair made an angry sound and beat at the water with her fists, while the others continued to laugh. The twins helped the woman in; she was still unsteady on her feet.

Badger Claw took off his loin cloth and leggings, threw them on the bank and washed the rest of himself. Now only the twins had their clothing on. The boy stripped next, and frolicked in the water while his sister said angry things to him. Then she went to the woman and they whispered. The woman spoke, soothingly but the girl resisted. Finally the woman spoke sharply, with authority, and began helping the girl disrobe. Badger Claw saw what the problem was. The girl wore the white people's undergarment, and the normally white cloth was stained dark red. The cloth bulged with the rags that he knew were in them. She was in her bleeding time, like all the women did each month. The women in the tribe didn't want to be touched or seen during their bleeding time. He turned away in respect and finished himself with his back to them. The boy was staring and Badger Claw waded over to him and slapped him once on the cheek, turning his head away from the women. The boy bristled, but there was guilt in his eyes too, and he turned his back, as he clearly understood what he had just been told.

The woman spoke again and yellow hair went to the shore and limped up to the lodge. She came back with a fur and held it at the shore while the woman brought the girl over there. When she was wrapped in the fur she sat down.

Yellow hair tried to cover her breasts, which were truly lovely. They were very white, as if the sun never touched them, with light pink almost invisible tips. The hair between her legs was the same color as that on her head, and she tried to cover that as he looked at her too. Why was she so ashamed of herself?

He couldn't worry about that now. He turned to the woman, who was gingerly walking toward the shore. He beckoned her and she stared between his legs before she came toward him hesitantly. She must think all the people were like Yellow Water, and took sex without permission. He held out his hand and she grasped it instinctively as she tipped to one side. He led her to water where she could sit on the sand, but was deep enough that it would come up to her breasts. He peered at them closely.

Her hands came up to cover the nipples and he batted them away. Yes, they were looking better. He grunted at Yellow Hair and slid his thumb over his two first fingers, like he was rubbing something between them. Then he pointed at the woman's nipples and wrists. Yellow hair cocked one eye questioningly and then gave a blinding smile as she figured out what he wanted. She jumped up and dashed to the lodge, coming back with the bag of ointment. She was smiling, proud, as if she had done something important.

He gave her a smile for a five year old, to make her feel good and she fairly danced with pleasure. Those breasts did interesting things when she jumped. She was pretty in a pale sort of way. His penis began to harden as he looked at her as a potential sexual partner for the first time. She was old enough. Most of the women of his people had a baby already by the time they were her age, maybe two. Perhaps she had babies too, somewhere. The woman made a sound and he turned and saw she was looking at his stiffening organ. She said something to yellow hair and the girl turned pink and tried to cover her sexual parts. White people were strange.

He sat the woman down in the water and began to work on her head wound. He leaned her back, getting the hair soaked and carefully washed the black scabbing away a little at a time. Between dunkings he sat her up. He stood to her side. She kept turning her head to stare at his penis, which was still half hard. That made it hard for him to be careful. Finally he straddled her legs and stood with his penis in front of her face so she could look at it all she wanted while he bent over and took care of her head. She sat very rigidly at first, but relaxed little by little.

The wound hurt, he could tell from the way she tensed when he touched it, but she made no sound. Once he leaned too far over her and his penis pushed into her face. She tensed and raised her hands, but by then he had already moved back to stand up. He was finished washing.

Now for the salve. He grunted at Yellow Hair and rubbed his thumb again. She nodded and threw him the bag, which he caught. When he looked down, the woman was still staring at his penis. She licked her lips and glanced up to see him watching her. Her face blushed and she gritted her teeth. When he bent over her to apply the salve, he saw there were stripes on her back, where Yellow Water had whipped her with a willow branch. When he leaned further to treat those too her face pressed to his groin. She left her hands in the water, but he heard a choking moan.

He finished and held out his hand to help her stand up. She came up and he looked her over. Yes, cleaned up she was a handsome woman. Her breasts were heavy, but not fat. He lifted one to look under it and saw no injuries. She stood, her fists clenched at her sides as he inspected every inch of her body. He put salve on several places and then tried to peer between her legs.

He knew what could happen to a woman who was raped. The skin could tear and bleed. The white man had done this to his sisters many times. Now she became agitated, batting at his hands and trying to cover herself. She spoke, with urgent tone in her voice, turning away from the others. He understood. While his people had no problem showing their bodies, if there was touching or sex involved, it was a private matter. He took her arm and pulled her out of the water. When the others started to follow he held up his hand and said "No!" The woman said something and they stayed there, though they were clearly nervous.

He took her to a small copse, well shielded by thick green bushes. It was a deer sleeping place in the winter, and now that the sun shone hot the grass was thick and soft. He pointed there. She was crying now, so he thought she must be in much pain. He pointed again, more insistently. If she'd just lie down he could treat her pain. Finally she did, crying harder. She lay stiffly with her legs tightly closed. Her hands were at her side again, closed tightly. He put his hand between her thighs, prying and she moaned. One of her hands came up and closed around his wrist, pushing him away. He heard her saying that word he'd remembered "No ... no ... no ... no" but it didn't make any sense in this situation. Surely she needed relief from the pain.

Finally he lost patience. He set the bag of balm on her stomach and put both hands between her legs, palms outward. He was just starting to exert pressure when he saw something interesting happen. The woman had been looking at his face while she cried. Now she looked at what he had set on her stomach. Her eyes opened wide and her crying stopped instantly in a gasp of indrawn breath. Her eyes flashed back to his and he felt her relax. As he pushed her thighs apart, she stopped fighting him and she let go of his wrist. Now she turned that bright pink that usually meant the sun had burned a white person and she moaned again, but this time not with pain. He kept pushing and lifted her knees until they were up by her breasts. He needed her wide open. He saw her crane her head, looking at something ... she was looking at his penis again.

In a matter of seconds he realized what had happened. She thought he wanted to breed her. He raised up and held up his hand, flat toward her, then covered his sexual organs and said "No" Then he held up the bag of ointment and pointed at her sexual organs. She got even redder but slowly nodded her head and said another word that rang a bell with him "Yes."

Now she held her knees for him. It was dark in there, of course, and he had to pull her around until the sun was shining directly onto her sex. She moaned several times. At last he could see. She was torn, though it wasn't too bad. One treatment of the balm should be enough. He dipped two fingers in the paste and began to spread it. She was red and bruised all over, so he rubbed it all over. She made noises that were a cross between sobs and moans and laughter and she couldn't keep her hips still. He knew that it was stinging like fire, but after that the pain would go away and she would feel much better.

Badger Claw had been with girls in the tribe. He had even made two babies, both fine, strong boys of two and three summers, and he knew how to make the young women squeal with pleasure. As he rubbed the medicine onto the woman's sex he recognized some of the movements that the young women made when he was making them very happy. Now he looked at the woman as a possible sexual partner. She was strong and lean, with good hips and she would probably be very nice to make babies with. His cock stiffened at the thought, but he dismissed the idea. She was too sore to do that, and had made it quite clear that she did not want it, either.

He was no rapist. He would simply treat her wounds and if she wanted to thank him later? ... well then maybe they could have some fun.

He was thinking so hard that he didn't realize his fingers were working on her sexually, as well as medically. He had no real notion of what his fingers were doing to Mrs. Julia Posten, widowed a year back, from her husband, Tom, who had been kicked in the head by a horse. She was suddenly left alone, a healthy 32 year old woman in the prime of her life with her then fifteen year old daughter Molly, and the twins, Bobby and Cindy, who had just turned thirteen. They lived on what was laughingly called a "farm" on the plains somewhere east of Denver and south of the wagon trails, far enough that they had seen no visitors since Tom had died. They had been on the farm for three years, and had seen one troop of Cavalry come by a year and a half ago. She had been happy, though concerned for Molly, who was quickly heading toward the age when some would call her an old maid. They were in a valley with good grass and water. It had been difficult after Tom died, but they had all worked hard. They had nowhere else to go and counted themselves lucky to own three head of cattle, one bull, two good horses and a fine dog named Champ.

Then the Indians had come.

She'd fought, as they'd had to fight several times before. Always before the combined firepower of the two adults, with the children reloading, had driven off the raiders. This time there was only her to shoot. The Indians had shot Champ, who had limped away and was probably dead. The horses had been taken by the Indians. The cattle would be fine but would stray. Her few possessions were all that was there. After she woke up, and after that beast had beaten, whipped, raped and bitten her, she'd hoped for a quick death for her whole family. She didn't want either of her daughters to go through what she had endured. She had hoped to find a knife. If she had to be the one to slit their throats ... well then, that was the way it had to be.

Now she wasn't so sure. She knew there had been a disagreement in the tribe over them, and that her current captor, who she would have sworn was a white man, but who acted thoroughly Indian, was the victor. She didn't know what that meant though, except that she and her children were being treated with respect now. She had told her children to be quiet, or do what the man said, hoping not to anger him. Then her advice had changed, and she told them not to worry, that he wasn't like the other one, and that she didn't think he'd hurt them. His tenderness at treating her injuries had made her miss her husband in an anguished way, because Tom had been like that ... strong, but tender and caring. And that potion he used! She'd never seen anything like it. If she had a wagonload of that stuff back East she could retire in a week! And then he slept next to her naked, like she was, but had done nothing other than keep her warm.

She'd had a bad moment when he came back from hunting. She hadn't known he was hunting when she woke up to see him, all bloody and savage looking, dragging her naked daughter out of the teepee. She'd begged him not to hurt her, following as Molly screamed her lungs out. And after all that he'd only meant that she take a bath! It was funny when she thought about it. Especially when he threw her in the water and then had to go in himself to keep her from drowning.

She had also recognized his conscious effort not to watch her help Cindy deal with her menstrual rags. And he had disciplined Bobby for peeking at his embarrassed sister, though usually they ran around half naked anyway. It was as if he was being ... polite!

But then her heart had stopped as he tried to look at her , between her legs, and had then dragged her to a private place where he could ram that truly impressive savage penis into her...

Only to find out that he knew she must have been injured by her rapist. She hadn't had time to think about what that poultice would do to her ... down there. If she had, she would have tried to get him to let her put it on. But her relief in learning that she wasn't going to be raped again had led to his extremely intimate touching of her in places where Tom had only inserted his penis, humped her a few times and then left his seed in her. She had no idea that she could be so excited by a combination of pain, the burning of the poultice, followed by its soothing numbing action.

Except that it didn't numb everything.

The feel of a strange man's fingers made her feel like the top of her head was going to blow right off.

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