Tribal Tranny Gang Bangs 50 Men Ch. 02

(This is the sequel to "Tribal Tranny Gang Bangs 50 men.")

We're in an Army wagon on our way to my village. I just look over at him and swoon. My heart melts. When I asked the elders about giving the Army the Gatling gun they approved right away. I want him to see our camp. We've been in love for over a month now. Fierce, intense lovemaking every night.

We get there, and small children are playing on the Gatling in the middle of our camp. He's a bit upset. I rub my hand on his inner thigh. Then I lean over and kiss him. A lingering kiss. The women are gossiping. The men with smiles, they're happy for me. The elders approach, frowning. I jump out. I make sure they know it was all me, not him showing any disrespect.

I introduce him, and he treats the elders like Army Generals, or Governors even. Of course they like him, because I like him. I love him. It's obvious. In town we cannot be this public. I won't allow it for his sake. After a special dinner, we make love in my teepee. Where I've slept my whole life. I'll be giving it up after tonight.

He takes the gun back alone. But, escorted by two warriors to prevent theft. I explain to him I'm going into the woods, just for a few days. I need the solitude to think. What I don't tell him is what I'll be thinking about. It's "What is best for him?" He is all I care about. As he feels the same for me.

I go into the woods. When I return after a week. The elders have the worst news for me. Delivered to the village by a special army messenger.

I give the eulogy. Most unusual because I am a woman and because I am Indian. I don't want to do it. But they insist. It's brief. 5 minutes. It ends truthfully with how I have to fight every moment not to join him.

His commanding officer actually hugs me, kissing my forehead. He honors me with the widow's flag.

They all knew. The town. His army. Because inside ourselves, our love was too bold. We could not hide it. And I was foolish to think we were. He had no other family, besides me. No surviving siblings. His mother also passed early, something we shared. Lots of males in his family dying in battle.

My love was on patrol. Mentioning two army privates. One on his very first patrol. They were ambushed. He used himself as a distraction so they could both escape and make it back to the fort. Later, his dead body was found.

I return to my village to mourn. It's the ten-year-old granddaughter of the fallen warrior who lives in my small teepee now. She suggests we share, and I agree. She's quiet. Likes her solitude too. But she attaches herself to my hip. I don't go into the woods alone. I welcome her company. Most of the time we don't talk. She is as comfortable with silence as I am.

But sometimes, in the woods, she catches me weeping uncontrollably. She either leaves me alone. Or sits at my feet, meditating. Her mother brings us food. But the daughter explains we don't need it. I can see the great love she has for her mother, and it makes me remember my parents.

After a few weeks, I am more myself. Wounded deeply. Scared inside. But healing.

Before returning to town. I hug her. Hug her tight. She knows she has a second mother.

I'd gotten to know the brothel madam. We seem to be kindling spirits. Our fierce independence. I go to visit her. The sadness on her face at my loss. All the girls are grieving with me. He used the brothel before, and each spoke of his kindness and respect. And he happened to be generous, tipping lavishly, showing his respect with money too. The madam makes me an offer, and I accept, at least temporarily.

She was renting a room in the back. It has a separate entrance. I think about it. Their main kitchen, clean towels. And I like the girls. I like sitting with them just listening. Madam and I talk together often. I ask only one amendment to her offer. She negotiates my fees and holds my money. I don't know my worth, and I trust her like I'd trust my mother.

Mostly, it's very pleasant. I adapt to the clients' needs. What a lot of these men want is GFE. A girlfriend experience. Like I'm their girlfriend, or wife, or mistress. It's fun. I don't mind. I enjoy it. Get into it. I see maybe 4 tricks a day. It can be taxing. It takes energy. Thinking about the needs of men I don't especially care about.

Some tricks ask me about the rumors of what I did. If I feel they're disrespectful, I never see them again. I also tell Madam, just so she knows. If they disrespect me, they could disrespect one of the other girls.

But even when they don't ask, they know. They enjoy the novelty of fucking me. Also, my penis and my pussyass. Madam tells me that's why it's more leisurely. Which actually takes more effort on my part.

The girls talk about wam-bam-thank-you-mam. The whole affair takes ten minutes. Blowjob, ram the pussy, cock cums. They love it. Get that money. Mine are a half hour, an hour, or even longer. It surprises me that a lot like sucking my cock.

I begin making it with women. It starts with one of the girls. It can just be so warm and loving. The girls' hearts are all so hungry. Even without sex, I do love them all, in my own way.

I lose myself in sex. The tragedy of losing my parents. My dear captain. The fat woman. The elderly ax woman too. I grieve. Weekly, alone, I hold a ritual ceremony in their honor. I have to.

My favorite bed partner is Wendy. An African American woman. She wasn't making as much money as the other girls. Just because the pigment in her skin is different? I think it's better. Her skin is so dark. Her body so perfect. Lush breasts with huge nipples. I suckle them. When teased, her tits give something. I don't know if it's milk. But I love it. It's warm and comforting. I love going down and eating her hairy pussy. It's such a pleasure to trim her pubes too.

The other girls tease us. We're always kissing. Snuggling. Madam says Wendy has opened up. She is more herself and is even getting more clients. Who wouldn't want to be with her? I admit I love eating her after a client leaves. Eating their sperm from her hot pussy! Clients find out and hire us together now. Madam loves it. Wendy and I often just sleep together. Holding each other. She says I have nightmares sometimes.

The army comes to me. They know who ambushed the Captain, my love. They know where they are. They're about a dozen men. The number can fluctuate as they go out committing their ongoing individual crimes.

Several are escaped convicts. These are the worst criminals. Rape, child murder, murdering their own wives. Total bottom feeders. They care about nothing and no one. One murdered his mother for $13. Another murdered his sister and brother-in-law and their children. Two murdered their own children.

The army could overrun them with overwhelming force. Do that easily. But their government needs the leader alive. So, they want me to bring him out. Then they'll take care of the rest.

It sounds insane to me. They believe this man was the shooter. They're honest about that. But they need information only he has. So, they expect me to save him? Don't think so. Also, they want me to create the overall plan. Help him escape their assault.

Instead, I make my own plan. I have Madam negotiate the fee and the contract. Contract with the U. S. government. She does it with glee, warning me to be careful. A warning she should know better than to have to give me.

There's an army messenger with me. The same one they sent to our camp. Their fastest. Four warriors are following us. But he doesn't know that.

One of the four warriors is middle-aged and respected. He's their leader. The two youngest are the two I stopped from castrating the dead bodies.

The fourth is Wizard. For 40 years he's been the tribe's authority on torture. He has his own tools. I asked him only one question. "How do I know the murderer is telling the truth?" He replies that he will know, and he is never wrong.

Traveling with the messenger, he is surprisingly good company. He talks and talks and talks. I learn a lot about whites and their culture. When I need to, I just tune him out or ask him to be quiet, despite how frustrated he is at that request.

The long nights together. Just the two of us. The campfires. I decide to make it with the messenger. He will be my first non-client male. An important distinction for me.

I have to seduce him. He's chatted about never being with someone like me. The fact is, he's been to the brothel. But otherwise, nothing. He's certainly never kissed a girl like me.

The warriors are still hidden, watching over us. He and I are alone. The night air is warm, the campfire making it even hotter. I touch his arm. Then his thigh. He looks at me. I approach for a kiss.

He's still. Then at that moment, I stick my tongue out, the tip just touching his lips. I'm lightly running my moist tongue tip around his lips. The Captain and I used to do this to each other. I feel him smiling down on me, maybe even laughing. I feel him always.

I move my hand to his groin. He's getting hard. I dive in. Locking lips with him. First softly. But soon my tongue is aggressively inside his mouth. He's mostly passive. Letting me kiss him. But he keeps getting harder and harder.

I tell him to stick his tongue out. I touch our tongue tips. I lick his tongue like I'm licking a cock. Then he puts his hand on the back of my head, pulling me to him. He kisses me deeply. He pushes me back on our blanket. I look up at him. He's stripping off his clothes.

It's going faster than I may like, but I'm sure not going to stop him. He strips all the way down to his drawers. There is a good-sized budge.

He exposes my breasts. He's playing with them. Fondling my lil titties. It feels so nice. Now he's sucking my nipples. Licking them. Sucking and pinching them. I'm looking at him crying. This is so emotional for me.

He kisses away my tears. He strips the rest of my clothes off. I'm bare-ass naked. I feel so open and vulnerable. I love it. Need it.

I take his hand and quickly suck on his fingers. He gets the idea. He touches my cock. So small and soft. I've played with it but haven't cum in so long. Even Wendy sucking me, I can't get hard and cum.

After rubbing my cock and balls for just a minute. He goes down. He takes my cock in his mouth. I'm sobbing. He's licking and sucking my penis and balls. Then he raises my legs and spreads open my cheeks. He's attacking my asshole with his mouth.

Fuck. It feels so fucking goooooood! His tongue in my ass. After a few hot minutes, he releases my legs and goes back to my cock. Sucking me. My whole puny cock inside his warm mouth.

With my horny cock fully inside his hot mouth. His tongue is extended. He's licking my perineum. It's such a sensitive area. His tongue is really hot and horny. He's a horny young fucker.

After licking my ass I kiss him. I stand him up. I slip down his shorts.

Really nice-sized cock. Maybe nine inches. Thin. Perfect for sliding into my asshole.

I suck him, just getting it wet. I let his cock gag me, generating saliva to coat his cock. His prick is just so fucking perfectly beautiful. Fuck, I need it. I need him in my fuck hole.

I usually like missionary, but this time I get down doggy. My face touching the blanket. The air is hot, but I'm shaking. I feel my love in heaven smiling.

His cockhead is on my anus. He forces in. It hurts slightly. That good pain. I need it bad. I rock back on him, violently engulfing half of his length. I'm screaming at him to fucking use me.

He does. Ramming into me violently. I'm trying to stay with him. I'm weeping uncontrollably, which surprises me. All the while I'm imagining the Captain. It's his cock inside me. He's the one fucking me. Then it's clear why the tears.

After a good long while of fucking like this. I push him off. I get on my back. Raise my legs. Hands on my thighs, rocking back. He reenters me quickly and easily. He is really a good fuck. This brings me to earth. Back here. He just makes me feel good. Real good.

We're fucking together so fiercely. It's a hot night. Sweat pouring from us. Fucking and fucking and fucking. He's ramming me so hard and mercilessly that I'm almost rolled up into a ball.

Then I feel something in my loins. My little balls. Just then he rams fully into me and stays. His huge balls on my puny ones. My sack is now feeling the heat of his massive balls cumming.

And my little pud is spurting. My dick is shooting all over me. I open my mouth and catch a little. But it's mostly landing on my chest and stomach.

This as he unloads his balls deep into my ass. Floods and floods of hot sperm. His cock is nine inches inside me. But he's cumming so much I feel it flowing back over the length of his shaft and out my asshole.

He leaves me, and I feel the gape in my hole. Now he's licking up my cum! It's watery. A clear liquid. But he's lapping my chest and stomach like my ball juice is the most precious. Cleaning me completely. He then attacks my ass. Using his lips and tongue. Sucking my fuck hole. Licking it lovingly. He's so beautiful, with his nine-inch cock.

He's sucking his cum out of my ass, and I'm crying only because of the here and now. His tongue and mouth working my ass like a water pump. Sucking every drop of his own goo from my asshole.

His turn now. I attack his cock with my mouth. I lick his balls. His thighs. I suck his cock deep. Gagging. Choking. I get his cockhead in my throat and make him throat-fuck me.

His rock-hard cock all slimy, he then fucks me doggy for, I swear, half an hour.

He cums again, and I reach between my legs, cupping his cum and bringing it to my mouth.

I work my magic mouth on his cock. Sucking him hard, making him cum a third time. We melt in each other's arms into a blissful sleep. Tomorrow we'll be at the enemy's cabin

These fuckheads go a bit into the woods to shit and piss. I patiently wait. One comes out. After he's done. I pop out, seeming surprised. I'm naked except for something over my tits. "What kind of wild slut are you?" I'm staring at his cock. It's getting hard. "You speak english?" I shake my head.

He points to his manhood. "You like it, though, huh?" I nod, licking my lips. He approaches. I back away, still ogling his cock. It's rock hard now. Sticking straight out like a flagpole. It's a nice, normal cock. Maybe six inches. Good girth. It does look delicious.

He drags me to the cabin. Aggressively holding me by my arm. Just as the door opens, I wrench his hand off. He sees I'm not fleeing. "Look what we have here!"

The messenger is now waiting with the warriors. I told them it might be a while. But to keep one watching.

Yup, a dozen of em. Fucking ugly spirits. That shows on their faces. Tough, unpleasant lives, and they now enjoy passing their pain onto any innocent people that happen by.

But they're not my problem. They're the white man's problem. I am only interested in one. Only him. Alone.

They're aggressive. Almost like they're competing against each other.

I suck the first one. Licking him. I can see the others striping down so I deep throat him quickly. "Fuck! This fucking wench can suck cock!" I let him face fuck me. His cockhead at my throat. He cums all over my face.

One grabs me, and standing, enters me from behind. I hump with him. He unloads in me quick.

The leader drags me into the bedroom. This is the fucker I want. This scum. He has no idea what this day holds for him. Caressing his thighs I lick his cock. He guides my head for me to blow him. If these dummies had any patience they'd enjoy it more. I want him defenseless and relaxed with me.

I give him head. Good head. Sucking him fast. I feel he might cum so I stop. Bending over I offer him my ass. It's quick. He cums. He slaps my buns then just walks out.

Three enter the room. The rest wait outside or are watching. It's hot so they're mostly naked. I might as well enjoy this, and I do.

They're quick. I wonder have they ever made love? But it is what it is and I enjoy it as fast fucking. I like their cum. I've always loved sperm. Hot, creamy, horny fucking sperm. It's delicious.

They all cum. Then again. They take me for granted. I'm nothing but some wild slut. They don't pay attention to me. That's good. It's so easy to slip them the knockout potion.

The warriors and messenger arrive. We bind all their ankles and wrists. Empty the cabin of all weapons.

The younger apprentice of Wizard and the middle-aged leader will keep an eye on the cabin from the woods. As soon as the army arrives, they'll disappear. I send the messenger back to his fort. Kissing him good-bye. We don't want him to see that we're taking the gang leader for a little side venture.

The army doesn't have to execute his gang. They can take them back into custody. Thanks to my better plan. It's their choice. Those men will be at the mercy of white man's justice.

But not this one. This one is mine. He stays with me. He will not escape by making a deal with his precious information. I am not leaving this one at their discretion.

He took my beloved.

We're in a special clearing Wizard took great patience to find. Wizard and his apprentice are meticulously preparing.

I take this time to chat at the useless slime who stole my life. I'm enraged, but I speak in a monotone. I explain what he did. How the Captain and I were committed. Looking forward to decades of happiness. Maybe children.

Children? He smirks. It's obvious he isn't scared of us. A crazy-weirdo slut. A punk kid. And a crippled old man. What's there to be scared of?

So I ask him. "Was it you that shot the army captain?" "Yeah, I did it. Fuck him and fuck you, slut." I patiently tell him I don't care what else he's done. How many he murdered. How many dreams of happiness of others. What happens today is only because he pulled the trigger on someone I love.

He just continues smirking. Then he spits at me. I resist slapping him. Because today there is not multiple tortures. There is only one.

He's on the ground. Locked in place. His ankles and wrists tightly bound. I sit back and watch. I want to remember this. I trust our gods will forgive my dear Captain, forgive him for my earthly need.

Wizard carefully cuts a small slit in his gut. Just barely enough to get his special tool in. He then pulls out a small length of his intestine. Over the screaming, he gradually and very carefully pulls it further and further out.

Those screams are music to me. They are like the sweetest melodies. But this is only the beginning.

Carefully and patiently, the old man continues slowly pulling. Stopping and then gradually pulling ever so slightly again. Extremely careful not to break or even strain this delicate strand.

He leads the intestine just a few short feet to a hill of army ants. He expertly searched for these specifically. These murderous ants then crawl up the intestine's length into his gut. They'll feast on him. The death could take several hours or even days.

It's exquisite. It's masterful. I marvel at the skills and knowledge.

He stands over the screaming man with a knife. Implying he'll cut off the suffering. He simply asks over and over. "What is it their white government wants to know? What is the secret?"

A good hour later I have all that I need. We also have the information.

The ants are still eating him from the inside. His eyes are wide. He screams less. He looks like a shell emptying. The ants are happy. Wizard wants to slit his throat.

Then I hear him begging for death. I look at the apprentice. He offers to stay until the natural end. I look over and see the horror on the fucker's pleading face. Pleading at me. Then I nod at the apprentice my approval.

As we ride off, I hear some last pleading and screaming. I look back for a final enjoyment.

As we ride, I consider what I noticed. Wizard takes no pleasure. This is simply his duty. His place in the tribe.

It's his apprentice who can't hide his glee. He's smart. Observing carefully. Following instructions exactly. But watching the murderer suffer, he is more than passionless. He is happy.

Around our campfire I ask the old man about this. He agrees. The young one is not like him or the man who taught him decades ago. They were never like that. But Wizard does not pass judgment. He does offer me this counsel. This young one comes from a very dark place. He, as a person, is someone more comforting to have as a friend than an adversary. In fact, in this harsh world, he could be a valuable friend.

Madam contacts the Army for payment, adding the government gets the information after we get the agreed-upon payment. The contract was technically fulfilled. She's actually laughing when she tells me that full payment was approved and received within a week. The government never complained about the information. Wizard was right.

I go back to entertaining clients. I think about it like that. It's performance.

I grow to love the girls more and more. Wendy and I are still special friends. We have a bond. But we sleep with other girls. Wendy dates a man. A Black who has been free for generations. I like him. His spirit is clean.

Life is routine. Several months. Everything is going very well. I finally relax. Then.

Why do those I love die? My parents. The Captain. Maybe worse, this.

A renegade faction of another tribe kidnaps the ten-year-old. They keep her alive and intact until they decide. 'Do we sell her? Give her to our chief? Or use her ourselves? She has great value; that's obvious.' They have her bound but unwatched. She frees herself. But she knows if she runs, they'll catch her. Tragically, she chooses ritual suicide.

Why do our gods insist on me using my worst side? Me being my ugliest? I have no choice. She and her mother must be avenged. Her mother, hearing the news, joined her to take care of her in the afterlife.

I need the two young warriors. Their devotion to me is unquestioned. Wizard passed on to heaven or hell; given his occupation he'd better hope there is only one place. Because of my nature, am I headed to the same question?

She was grabbed during a trek in the woods. It pains me to think about her spirit captured.

The kidnapper named himself Top Hat because he always wears a black top hat he stole from the first white family he murdered. Before that, he murdered two members of his own tribe in fights they didn't realize were deadly. His tribe is not a good one, and he is by far the worst of them.

His gang is just four men. But they're bitter, angry half-breeds. The worst of the worst. This gang is selective in their crimes. They like money.

Top Hat is infamous. He wants that. Our elders know of him. As do I. Especially now. He is all I think about.

Our two young warriors easily find Top Hat's hideaway. They also recover her body and bring her back to our camp for honored cremation, as her mother was. But their spirits will not rest until avenged.

The two young warriors were both students of Wizard. I need them because they carefully follow my instructions. They accept my leadership. And they're good with tasks independent of me. They're a good pair. They're friends.

But I use this time traveling with them to confirm my observation. And their difference becomes certain.

The older one, even a year older than me, is the dark one. His soul is lost. While the one younger than me. His spirit is greater parts light.

I decide the younger will guard and scout. Only the older one and I will torture. I see the fatal pride on the older one's face. And the fallen face of the younger. But time proved me correct.

The younger mated with an equally beautiful spirit. They raised four loving and useful children.

Good women were scared of the older. So, he concentrated on his chosen path. And he becomes much more powerful than Wizard. He grew into a skinwalker.

Am I becoming like the warriors who avenged my parents? With their excessive violence that I internally criticized.

Is it just a coincidence that I nicknamed the torturer Walker? He does love to walk. And he loves the name I gave him.

Now, right now, the now-bound Top Hat can't stop screaming and yelling. Shouting insults and threats. I find it amusing. But Walker cuts his tongue out. Then he makes him swallow it.

Soon enough we're at a small clearing. I send the younger one out to stand guard and watch out.

The younger one gone. Walker cuts two patches of skin in Top Hat's thighs. He peels them back. Carefully slicing the skin from the meat.

I keep slapping Top Hat to keep him awake. I don't want him passing out. I also know he won't last long. His spirit is weakening. I would have prolonged this.

Walker slices off a small toe. Then a small finger. Showing Top Hat both. Walker is sucking on them and spitting the blood onto Top Hat's face. I cut off one of his ears. Walker makes him swallow it. Choking, Walker tilts Top Hat's head back and massages the throat to get it down.

Walker offers me his knife. I cut into his ball sack. Walker coaxes the balls free. He holds the testicles in front of Top Hat taunting him if this is what if takes to kidnap a ten year old girl?

I see him begin to pass out, so I slice his cheeks. I'm punching his face repeatedly until his nose breaks. Expressing my rage. My anger. I kick his bleeding groin. I kick it again. A disgusting gurgling sound comes from his mouth.

This enrages me. I bend a straight finger back towards the back of his hand until I hear the crack. I do another. Then I break a third more easily. I cut the leather strap binding his hands.

Then I twist that arm, using my foot on him as leverage, until I hear his arm crack.

His body topples over. Muffled groans as he reaches with his good arm, trying to grab my ankle. I kick his head. I kick his head some more. Then I flip him on his back. Walker plunges a knife through the palm of his good hand straight into the dirt.

I make Top Hat look up at me. His face is horrified. Then I stomp on the edge of his rib cage. I love it. I love hearing his bones breaking.

Walker pulls me off. He examines Top Hat. Then he asks if he should try and revive him. I shake my head no.

Walker takes over. I sit. My head in my hands. I'm looking down towards hell. Will I be joining him? Thinking about that sweet girl, I start bawling.

Walker strings him up. Low, his feet touching the ground. Then Walker cuts his calves and forearms to the bone. I tie his hat to his head so satan recognizes him. He's vulture food. They have to eat too, so maybe it's the most useful thing Top Hat has ever done. Around his neck we hang a sign. "Top Hat. Child Murderer." Walker puts his own name to it.

Just hours ago I was in Top Hat's lair. I fucked them all. Sucking their cocks. Taking them all in my ass. Their dicks were small. Is that why they were so mean? It was easy to knock them out with the medicine man's potion. A potion he has now taught me how to make myself.

Leaving Top Hat's mutated body, we clearly see the black smoke from their cabin burning afire. Like the hell that awaits them. And maybe me too?