Another morning and another march

The cruel rapes went on for hours; Lisa lost track of the number of times her body was invaded by the Savages. The screams of the women died down after a while; they all just became numb, accepting the hard cocks of the Indians into their swollen, torn pussies.

Finally, the Indians grew tired of their playthings. The women were dragged closer to the fire, spread-eagle across the ground, and staked down. Lisa knew escape was impossible. The night grew cold. The dying fire gave off little heat. The Indians had gone off to sleep or watch or whatever; Lisa had lost sight of them. A couple of the women whimpered in the dark; most were too numb to even cry. Lisa felt the copious loads of cum ooze from her battered pussy. The night air made the wet mess even colder. Exhausted, Lisa drifted off to sleep.

A hard kick woke her. The sun had now yet come up. The Indians were braking camp. The women were cut loose. The children, still tied in a long line, were led into the camp. They were all sobbing. They were cold and hungry and the sight of the women, some their mothers, was distressing.

The Apache leader picked up some of the tattered clothing the Braves had torn from the women's bodies last night and tossed them into a pile. Lisa reached down and grabbed some of the rags, trying to cover her body as best she could. The other women followed suit, all except one.

The young, skinny blond stood still, her eyes fixed far away. Lisa could see that the young girl's mind had snapped. The Indians began prodding the girl, grabbing her tiny tits and cruelly pulling and twisting the bruised flesh; the girl hardly responded. Lisa stepped forward and took her hand, pulling her into the group of women. The other women picked up a few rags and draped them over the girl. Lisa doubted she would survive another day.

If the Apache leader had been telling the truth, they would reach the town where the women and children were to be sold before sunset. Lisa wondered if any of the captives would survive another day's **** march through the barren wasteland.