Little Eagle finished her meal and put out the fire. The sun was rising behind the mountains at the horizon. It was a beautiful sight. She would meet her family again, after a long absence. The white soldiers had brought her to their territory, a dead town for the living dead, the soul and mindless people.

She had been imprisoned for one and a half years, for defending herself against a soldier who had tried to rape her at the well. She could easily have killed the brutal beast, but didn’t. Killing a soldier meant a certain death sentence and further punishment on her tribe. But she had made sure that he would never ever manage to force himself on another woman again.

She was a delicate young woman, but strong and skilled in her tribe’s fighting techniques. A clumsy, drunken soldier meant as much harm to her as a mouse did to a bear. Measuring almost six feet and weighing about 140 pounds, with waist-long raven-black hair and a face that radiated both feminine beauty and merciless cruelty, she kept most men at a distance. Except for the stupid or the very brave.

She came without a horse and without any weapons, but a feline will always find ways to catch prey. Little Eagle grew up in this landscape and hadn’t forgotten how to set a trap. Yesterday, at dawn, she had even caught a jackrabbit with her bare hands.

The dark brown Apache-woman undressed and squatted in the stream. The icy cold water washed away the dirt as well as her fatigue. She splashed some water on her small, pointy breasts and sighed. What she needed the most for the moment was a man. She would even settle for a white man, for once in a lifetime. Living in celibacy for such a long time could drive anybody insane. She had seen it happen to several good women who had lost their male companions. Nineteen months without a man, with nothing but her fingers to comfort her, meant that the first man she spotted out here in the wilderness was in for a rough treat, she smiled to herself.

The right hand sank down between her soft and slender thighs. She just had to do something about that tension. As she teased her thick labia with light touches and rolled the astonishingly big and almost black nipples between the left hand’s fingers, there was a sudden roar of pain from the other side of the hill. A male voice, so tormented she couldn’t decide whether it was one of her own kind or one of the other kind.

She ran, or rather climbed, the steep hill as fast as she could. When she reached the top, her eyes caught the sight of a white soldier, naked from the waist down, being beaten and kicked out of his raping mood by three Apache girls. They swarmed the helpless, bleeding man like bees and dished out a cruel punishment.

One of the girls, the one who was completely naked, Little Eagle remembered as a shy and poetic little creature at the age of twelve. That was before her own time in prison. The very same girl had now developed not only a thick black bush around her sex and a pair of dangling, orange-sized breasts, but also great fighting skills. Her firm body gleamed with sweat and stench of the foe’s blood as she spun around and landed a perfect kick that broke the soldier’s already battered nose. She let out a shriek of triumph as he fell to the ground, with sickening dark-red spurts pumping from the bruised face.

They finished him off by kicking him in the head several times, then tied his feet together and his arms behind his back. The other two girls undressed and one of them, a rather fat, mean-looking predator that looked far too sexy for her eighteen years of age, squatted over the unconscious victim’s face.

Little Eagle smiled and picked up where she had left off down in the stream. She watched the girl’s huge breasts and started to stroke her own purple-shining labia. A golden ray appeared from between the stout girl’s mature buttocks and found its way to the man’s slightly parted lips. The fountain of blood had by now ceased. She washed away the dirt from his face with her salty liquid. And she washed his filthy mouth thoroughly.

As the tallest of the three girls sat down and started to piss in the soldier’s face, Little Eagle had a long and wonderful orgasm. Then, as the last waves of heavenly pleasure swept through her naked body, she suddenly started thinking clearly: “Where there’s one soldier, there are at least five other soldiers. They never ride alone, not even in a friendly territory like this. Surely, the girls must be aware of that. So how come they play around like this? Like some careless children...”

Little Eagle heard sparkling girlish giggles as she went looking for the rest of the troops. She moved cautiously, without making a sound. A few minutes later she heard the sound of a horse. And then another one. Naked and unarmed, she hid behind a giant rock, and then crawled around the spot where the noise was coming from, in a big semi-circle, away from the wind’s direction. At least now, they wouldn’t be able to smell her. She waited for a long time, only a few steps away from the camp. But there were no voices. Just the smell of human beings. And blood.

As she had expected, there were six horses, tied to different trees. The moment later, she discovered the corpses of four white soldiers, killed by Apache arrows. Their faces expressed surprise and shock. Two of them had been shot in the back. There was a trail of dried blood in the sand, towards a fallen tree. Little Eagle picked up one of the dead men’s long knives and headed for the wounded enemy.

The uniformed man was lying on the side, with an arrow buried in his chest. He was barely conscious, but managed to reach out his right hand in a pathetic gesture. He was begging her: “Please, please ... don’t kill me.” Little Eagle knew the meaning of those words. She signed for him to be quiet and lowered herself, still with the knife in her hand, to inspect the wound.

It wasn’t as bad as she had expected. He would survive if she started treating him right away. Without thinking about it, Little Eagle had lowered herself over his face, as she paid full attention to his wound. In a desperate attempt to save his own life, the weak and bleeding man reached out his tongue and started licking the crack of the ass of the woman he thought was going to scalp and kill him right there and then.

The tickling sensation when the almost dry tongue swept past her tight rim almost sent her tumbling forwards, towards a certain death for her fallen enemy. But she regained her balance and let him have his way with the tongue. No man, who deserved to be called a man, would lick a woman in the ass. For a second she thought about killing him for his cowardice, but it felt so good, the lively tongue up and down her ass. It felt so wonderfully good every time it ran over her asshole, her filthy hole, her shit-hole, so good!

She knew she should remove the arrow and clean the wound in his chest if she wanted to be sure to save his life, but that didn’t seem as important as his work in her darkest regions. Nothing did.

At least ten minutes later, ten minutes closer to the death of the pale soldier, Little Eagle’s beautiful body started shivering. The orgasm was so strong, so intense, that she almost fainted.

She sighed. Now, it was high time to get to work. She had plans for the pale-skinned wimp.

When William Gates returned to the land of the living, it was in the middle of the night, and he was covered with army blankets. The Apache beauty he thought was going to kill him, but instead had saved his life, was sitting in front of the campfire at his feet, wrapped in one of their blankets, watching him with her dark, observant eyes. The pain in his chest was sharp and made each breath feel like it might be his last. But he somehow felt that he was going to pull through. The Indians knew how to deal with this kind of wound. The moment later, he fell asleep again.

He awoke at the break of dawn when she slapped his face and urged him to sit up and drink some steaming hot liquid that smelled awful. He managed to swallow the bitter-tasting brew and kissed her hand as she helped him to lie down again. With a blurring vision, he watched the naked woman grab one of the army rifles and leave the camp. Then everything went black.

At noon, the smell of grilled rabbit meat brought him back to reality. He was lying in the shade, not far away from the dark-brown nymph by the fire. She was sitting in her normal squat position, shamelessly spreading her thighs and exposing her delicate cunt as she ate. Her labia were remarkably thick and beautiful. Dark red, or was it purple? He remembered licking her ass to persuade her to spare his life and wondered if there were any chances she would let him lick her the way a man is supposed to lick a woman. Probably not. And he should be more than grateful to her. Four of his comrades, possibly all five, had been killed by her tribe. He had recognized the arrow in his chest.

It all started with that imbecile Jimmy Carson, running after some teenage girl they had almost caught hunting in what was known as the forbidden zone. The Indians weren’t allowed to do that in this area, but Carson was the only one making an issue out of it.

Little Eagle noticed the soldier staring at her cunt for several minutes. That was only part of her plan. She walked towards him, sat down really close, and handed him a piece of meat, allowing him a good view of her magnificent breasts, her firm stomach, the slender and strong thighs, and the dark treasure between them. The smell of the meat mixed with the scent of her sex, and she could tell that he noticed.