While they had been staking her out, one of the squaws had been busy with Bromley. Cutting his prick off, she carried it over to where Angela was, stuffed it in her mouth and tied it in place with a bit of her ruined clothing.

Leaving the woman in her misery, with ants already crawling over her cunt and the dead prick filling her mouth, the Chief called for Mrs. Bromley.

"Oh no," she cried. "Haven't you done enough with poor Angela? Why do you need me too?"

"Come along now, Mrs. Bromley. You wouldn't want her to suffer alone, would you? You know what they say, 'misery loves company', so get down here and quit blubbering."

Sobbing, Agnes Bromley picked her way down the hill to where the Chief was. Like he had with Angela, he explained in detail what he wanted her to do.

"Oh God, please no!" she wept. "Shoot me, let me join my husband, but please don't strip me of my dignity."

Her begging did no good at all, other than getting her out of having to dance. The squaws had learned how effective the knife was at removing clothes, so she was probably stripped even faster than Angela had been. In less time than it would have taken me to say "Agnes, take your clothes off," she was just as naked as Angela was. And just like Angela had been, she was shown off to everyone in the circle, and then presented to the Chief. Her short, plump body didn't look bad at all. None of those rolls of fat I had expected. She was just a smooth pudgy body with tits and a cunt. Or she would have been smooth if it hadn't been for her cunt hair. Her snatch was thickly covered with the most incredible mass of pubic hair I had ever seen. The curly hairs even covered her lower belly and part of the inside of her legs. It was literally a pelt. Of course the Chief had her spread her legs so everyone could see and feel it. After she had been thoroughly poked and prodded, just to make sure there really was a pussy under all that hair, the Chief addressed her.