"Take the reins!" he shouted, drawing the rifle from the boot. Peggy took the leather reins expertly, looking over at Sam grimly. He was equally grim as he jacked a shell into the chamber.

"We can't let them take us alive," he said quietly. "Especially not you, Peg."

She didn't have to have any pictures drawn for her. She had grown up here in New Mexico, and she had seen what the Apaches left behind when they captured an enemy. The Apaches took a savage, unholy glee in torturing their prisoners, and there was no greater prize for them than a white woman, especially a blonde white woman as lovely as Peggy Wilson. But Peggy was out of luck that hot June day in 1876. Sam had only time for one shot at their pursuers before a lucky shot took him square in the chest. Before she even realized he had been hit, he toppled over the side of the wagon. Worse, he took the rifle with him, leaving his beloved wife to the mercies of the Apaches who suddenly surged around the wagon, jerking the horses to a stop. Peggy was thus helpless and unarmed as strong brown arms hauled her down off the wagon.

She was terrified beyond anything she had ever felt as she beat futilely on her captors, who surrounded her, laughing and poking at her, enjoying the terror of their lovely captive. In a bitter bit of irony, Peggy and Sam had been only minutes away from safety, as she finds out when she is loaded on a horse and taken no more than half a mile along the road to where it dipped down to a creek. There at the bottom is a besieged encampment of blue-coated soldiers.

At first, Peggy thought of rescue, then that hope turned to ashes as she looked around the rim of the hollow. Everywhere were Apaches. Those soldiers down there were prisoners just as surely as she was. Except, she thought bitterly, as she was pulled down off the horse, that some of them could hope to die quickly and escape the terrible fate that these savages had planned for her.

Surprisingly, at first nothing happened. She was given water and left alone with two guards, helplessly gazing down at the tiny figures of the soldiers as they kept guard. The Apaches had evidently killed the horses which pulled the wagons, stranding the soldiers, who were obviously infantry rather than cavalry. The rest of the Apaches engaged in a spirited but unintelligible conversation. The chief of the war band, obvious by his feathers and by the deference paid him by his braves, strode from the group to her side and threw her back against the ground. Strong hands held her as her skirt was flipped up over her face and her drawers were ripped from her hips. The weight of the chief suddenly pinned her to the ground as he thrust between her legs. She felt the hard shaft enter her vagina, where no one but Sam had ever been, and she started to struggle. Then her urge for self-preservation took over as she remembered that there were really fates much worse than rape. Thus, she made herself ignore the smelly savage pressing her back into the rocky ground, forcing herself to lift her hips to meet the thrust of his rampant cock, matching his rhythm, trying to pleasure him in a desperate attempt to live.

But it all went for nothing. Several other braves also raped her, but with her skirt over her face, she could not see them. She tried as hard with them as with the chief, but, aside from a grunt when they shot their spunk inside her, she got no response from them.

They left her alone after that, again giving her water but no food. That filled her with foreboding, since she remembered hearing that sharing food implied a certain status about the captive. Toward afternoon, two braves began to scoop a hole in the sandy soil, about two feet wide and four feet long. Two other braves dragged Peggy to her feet and made her go with them to gather wood. The blonde girl started to refuse, but one of the braves swatted her across the rear with a mesquite branch to get her moving. When all three had their arms full of dry branches and tree limbs, they returned to the crest of the hill and dumped the wood in the foot deep hole that had been finished.

After the dry wood was lit, more wood was gathered, this time green mesquite. This also was thrown on the fire, which was now burning fiercely. Peggy continued to gather wood, encouraged by an occasional branch across the rump, until she was finally allowed to rest. A horrible suspicion had been growing in her bosom as she gathered the wood, and her fear crystallized into certainty as the brown-skinned savages alternated between watching the fire and herself, chuckling with a savage glee. Then she knew with a horrible certainty that the fire was meant for her! Peggy panicked then, understandably so, since no sane person could easily face the horror that now confronted her.

From ten feet away, the heat of the blazing fire was uncomfortable, but soon, she knew, the Apaches would be coming for her, to stake her out on top of the fire or maybe along side it to make her death slower and more cruel. Her sudden spring did not catch the Apaches off-guard; they had played their cruel game many times and were waiting for it. They actually let her spring past them, but they were only toying with her. Hard-muscled warriors caught up with her within a few seconds, forcing her to turn aside from her path down the hill toward the soldiers. When she tried to dodge, they proved much more agile than she had ever been, bending her path into a circle as she tried to flee from the fire.

Now suddenly Peggy found herself herded back where she had begun, beside the fire, panting, sweating, and exhausted. She whirled, looking for a way out, but lean, brown men blocked every point of escape. With a shriek of mingled frustration and despair, Peggy collapsed sobbing to the ground.

Finally, as the sun began to set, the fire had burned down to a bed of coals which completely filled the hole in the ground. When strong arms dragged her to her feet, she was dry-eyed, though tears had streaked the dust on her cheeks. Her soul was hollow as the chief stepped up to her while two of his braves held her wrists firmly by her side. His flat, brown face was totally impassive as his hard fingers grasped the neck of her dress and jerked downward, causing her to stagger as the material split open down her front all the way to her waist. The creamy, smooth skin of her shoulders above her slip was revealed as the shreds of her dress were pulled over her arms. Peggy tried to resist, sobbing in sudden shame, but her hands remained gripped by her side; she might as well have tried to move an oak.

Other hands grasped loose shreds of material, ripping and pulling until her fine blue dress was a tangle of ripped cloth at her feet. Her petticoat was unfastened more carefully from around her waist. The reason was that one brave had a desire to possess the frilly, rustling garment. After he got it off of Peggy, he made a ludicrous sight putting it around his own waist and prancing around. Two other braves quickly unlaced her shoes and took them off, leaving Peggy now clad only in her white silk slip and her thin cloth stockings. The chief was almost gentle as he reached out and slid the straps of her slip off her shoulders. Peggy sobbed in total despair as she jerked vainly at the strong hands holding her wrists, but her struggles caused the undergarment to flutter down to her waist, exposing her large, firm bosom and the fine line of her naked back. A nudge at her hips and it settled to the ground, leaving Peggy completely naked except for her stockings before almost a hundred dirty savages.

They leered and laughed as the stockings were removed quickly. Her drawers had disappeared during her rape, and now she stood trembling like a leaf, her lovely body completely bare. Peggy was only twenty-two years old that terrible day in 1876 as she stood naked and trembling in front of the dusty savages, and she was the epitome of vulnerable female beauty. Her skin was pale and flawless, sprinkled with freckles over her shoulders and the upper sides of her breasts. Her waist was tiny, but her hips were full and womanly. Her flat belly was dotted by the nub of her navel above the swell of her pubis with its lush thatch of pale blonde hair. Her breasts were very large, swelling out from her chest and perfectly formed. They were very broad at the base and drooped not at all, scarcely even jiggling as Peggy was hustled over to an Army wagon that had been captured.

The poor girl was actually thankful that she was not being taken to the fire, but as she was forced up against the large front wheel of the wagon, the small of her back grinding into the rough metal rim of the wheel, little did she know of the Apache's plans for her. She struggled valiantly but to no avail as a rope was tightly wound around her waist and the wheel rim. Then she was bent backward until her shoulders were against the wheel and her arms were stretched high over her head. Ropes went around her wrists and her elbows, drawn harshly tight to securely fasten her to the wheel. Then the wheel was rotated around so that her feet left the ground so that her knees and then her ankles can be bound to the wheel. When they finish, the blonde girl was bent backwards into a downwards-pointing "C," tightly bound to the wheel.

The chief came over to the wagon to inspect Peggy's bindings. He grunted in approval at the cruelty of her bondage, at how tight the ropes were as they dug into her sweet flesh. He waved to the soldiers below and said in passable English, "Now we see how well you die."

"Please," Peggy pleaded, "if you're not going to let me live, at least kill me quick."

The chief snorted in amusement. "Is never quick, yellow hair. You scream for us, scream for blue-bellies too. Scream real good and maybe they come get you."

He grinned in the fading light, striking terror in Peggy. "Not think so. But think you scream real good for us for long, long time!"

One of the braves wanted to scalp her, but the chief stopped him. He gave an unintelligible command, and Peggy's mane of blonde hair was wound a round one of the spokes of the wheel, holding her head firmly against the rim. Nausea churned in Peggy's stomach a the braves gathered about the wagon and lifted up until the wagon could be rolled over to the fire on three wheels without her wheel turning. At the fire, they gave a straining heave, and her corner of the wagon was perched on a pile of rocks with the bottom of Peggy's wheel two feet above the bed of coals. She could feel the waves of heat rising, feeling almost soothing because of the rapidly cooling air. But soon the true horror commenced as Peggy felt her wheel start to revolve.

She strained and grunted as the wheel revolved further. She was bent backwards cruelly, and the weight of her body began to be supported more by the rough ropes than by the metal curve of the wheel. A moan left her lips as she felt her bare feet grow nearer and nearer to the fiercely radiating coals. Her toes wriggled and strained in the searing waves of heat. Peggy bit her lip to try to hold back her cry, but the heat ate at her feet and wouldn't go away!

Soon she had to gasp as her lower legs were rotated over the glowing bed of coals. Her skin twitched as the heat ate at her flesh. The wheel rotated further, and the fire assaulted the smooth skin of her plump thighs. Then her hips followed, bringing the first high-pitched scream from the frenzied captive. She could now look down and see the fire which was searing the flesh of her flat belly. The horror and the pain was equally unbearable, and she gave another soul-curdling shriek which was all too clearly audible to the soldiers below. Her screams were now rousing the trapped blue-coats to a fever pitch as a number of them started to come up the hill to her aid. A hard-bitten sergeant, with twenty years of experience on the frontier, only barely could hold them back.

"There's nothin' to be done for the poor woman. She was dead the minute she was captured by the goddamned 'paches." He spat into the flames of the campfire. "Now," he shrugged, "they'll keep her screaming as long as they can, hoping that we'll come a-charging to her rescue. And even if we don't, they know we won't get any sleep."

The most maniacal shrieks of all were now floating down the hill, and as the sergeant focused his binoculars on the fire up the hill, he could see only the girl's head and her feet above the slope of the hill. That meant that her legs and torso were now halted above the searing flames. He shuddered in horror, wishing that the repeating carbines had the range to reach up the hill and end the suffering of the screaming girl. Now if we just had our old single shot Henrys, he thought, we'd have the range. But not these anemic little Winchesters.

Peggy was rotating again, and it would be hard to tell whether it was worse for the fire to attack a new portion of her anatomy or to stay in one place. But now her large breasts were dangling down towards the flames. The pain was beyond human comprehension, but Peggy's screams dwindled as her lungs refused to suck in the super-heated air which rose off the redly-glowing coals. The Apaches left her there only a moment before rotating the wheel back upward until she was once more laying on her back, face upward toward the uncaring stars, as she sucked great lungfuls of relatively cool air into them. Every inch of her body stung terribly now that it was removed from the fire. She remained like that for several minutes, while the soldiers thought that she had perhaps died. But then the wheel was rotated once again, and her frenzied screams told them that she was all too alive as she once more hung in her bonds above the fire.

Again, the heat seared her from feet to breasts and then back again in a slow movement punctuated by her wails and pleas for mercy. This time, when Peggy was rotated upward after an eternity of screaming, the Apaches did not give her a respite. As she lay naked and helpless on the wheel, panting for breath as her screams descended to gurgling, rasping sobs, she felt a sharp bite in one hip as the Apaches shoved a cactus spine into her stinging flesh. She gave a cry as another spine went into her shapely thigh, bringing a different type of agony to the blonde girl. Both spines went about an inch into her quivering flesh, only to be followed by more. Peggy strained and screamed sharply as a sharp spine went into the side of her breast, another into her sweating armpit, then into the soft flesh of her arms, her breasts again, her flat belly, her legs, into her side between her ribs. Her screams got louder as cactus spines were shoved into the soles of her feet and even between her toes. She suffered terribly as several were shoved into the direct center of each lush, pink nipple and all around the puckered aureole.

Peggy was driven into such a state of agony by the torture of the cactus spines that she did not at first realize when the wheel again began to move. The first realization that her torture was being varied was when her feet were above the coals. The Apaches slowly kept her moving until her large bosom again dangled down toward the hungry flames and she hung completely suspended by her rope bindings. But the wheel continued to move, with Peggy madly shaking her head from side to side, her eyes tightly closed, trying to escape the searing heat which seemed to be peeling the skin from her face.

This time, when Peggy had regained her breath, the cactus spines were lit. They burned quite well until they reached her shrinking flesh, as her hysterical screams and struggles testified. Then even more were inserted in her suffering flesh, each one attended by a mad cry. Her firm breasts suffered cruelly, as did her armpits, her belly, and her lovely legs. Then they rotated her back over the searing coals, accompanied by a further series of rasping shrieks of mortal agony.

As the long night hours passed, Peggy was rotated above the fire every few minutes. The Apaches rubbed pig grease all over her bare body to protect her skin from the heat and allow her to be tortured longer. The grease made her smooth skin gleam in the light cast by the fire, and her piercing shrieks had succeeded in keeping the soldiers from sleeping. The Apaches couldn't get enough of her suffering. There was always a crowd around her as the fire seared her white flesh, despite the need to continue guarding the soldiers trapped in the hollow.

Grease was applied liberally, hard fingers lingering on her soft, feminine charms as the slippery stuff was rubbed over every inch of skin exposed to the fire. And every moment that Peggy was not dangling above the coals, a seemingly unending succession of cactus spines were being slowly shoved into her smooth skin, making her nude body appear to be growing a particularly hellish kind of whiskers. Now when she was rotated above the fire, the grease melted and dripped into the fire. Each small drop burst into flame, sending tendrils of flames and sparks up to actually lick at her squirming nakedness. Some of the hundreds of cactus spines which pierced her skin also burst into flames when she was above the fire, and her tightly bound body was dotted by many small spots of flame as she was rotated back upward. She screamed louder as the fires burned down to and even into her tender flesh. And whenever she stopped screaming, that was the signal to shove more cactus spines into her quivering flesh.

Later, ropes were attached to the spokes of the wheels so that the Apaches could control the position of the wheel, keeping Peggy moving above the firepit. The wheel revolved, exposing her bare body from feet to breasts and then back again, back and forth, keeping her screaming almost continuously. This continued the rest of the night until sunrise peeked above the horizon. The morning sun found the lovely girl burned all over the front of her body, with her fair skin broiled a greasy brown. But Peggy still lived and was capable of much more suffering before she breathed her last.

Peggy was virtually incoherent with agony when she was finally released from the wheel. She was given water to drink, which she drank greedily. She couldn't help herself, her drive to survive was still strong even though her scorched skin would most likely make any recovery impossible. Even the mere touch of a hand on her burned flesh brought a shrill cry of pain. But when she had drunk her fill, the Apaches dragged her over to four stakes pounded securely into the ground. Her feeble struggles were ignored as she was staked out on the ground, face upward, her wrists and legs pulled wide and secured to the stakes by wet rawhide thongs.

One of the Apaches heated his knife in the fire until it was sizzling, then returned to the bound girl. Another held her head steady as she saw the knife approaching her eye. But even closing her eyes did not help her. She felt a burning line traced around the upper curve of one closed eyelid as the Apache used the sharp point of the knife skillfully. Horrified, she watched her eyelid simply peel away, leaving her eye staring madly. Her other eye received similar treatment, and the raw morning sunlight suddenly pierced her eyes like an ice pick.

Peggy was sobbing at her mutilation as one Apache lifted her head so she was forced to stare down the length of her nude body. One of the Apaches approached her holding a scorpion carefully by the base of the tail. The tail jerked and stabbed madly as the scorpion tried to get free. The Apache lowered the hideous creature toward her right breast, which rose and fell with the urgency of her breathing. As the scorpion drew very near, Peggy sucked in her chest until it could go no further. Not daring to breathe, she watched in horror as the next stab of the tail lanced the poison-laden stinger right into the tip of her nipple! Peggy lunged upward with a shriek as molten fire filled her nipple and spread throughout her breast. God, it hurt so bad! And now there was another scorpion hovering over her left breast, and the scorpion obligingly sent its sting deep into her left nipple!

As the naked girl virtually came off the ground with the terrible anguish, she was surrounded by a crowd of Apaches, each with a scorpion or even two, all of which were targeted on her throbbing mammaries. Every sting in her burned skin sent white-hot shafts of pain through her rapidly swelling breasts. Her chest was virtually paralyzed with the pain so that she couldn't breathe, much less scream. The Apaches let her get her breath back for about five minutes, then they returned with more scorpions. They must have been capturing them all night when the scorpions came out to hunt, and now she felt the terrible stingers lance again and again and yet again until the venom coursed through her precious breasts.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the torture of her breasts ceased and Peggy's screams died down to gasping moans. One of the Apaches now returned with the core of a red-ant bed held on a board from the wagon. The maddened ants swarmed all over the board as he carefully placed the ant bed between Peggy's wide-spread thighs. Her legs were pulled wide and the rawhide had begun to shrink, but even so Peggy tried her mightiest to close her legs as a multitude of swarming, biting, stinging ants surged over her inner thighs, the lips of her vagina, and her pubic mound. Her screams began again as the ants began to sting and bite her exposed cunt and its surrounding areas. Another Apache placed a similar ant bed between her swollen breasts. Her screams mounted in intensity as an unbelievable numbers of blood-red, maddened ants swarmed over her scorched, hypersensitive breasts before her madly staring eyes. The pain in her already burned skin was hideous, and the doomed girl could not even move as the bites and stings spread outward from her groin and her bosom.

Her blood-curdling shrieks drifted down to the pinned down soldiers, who could not imagine what horrors could have torn such inhuman sounds of agony from a woman's throat. The soldiers down in the hollow couldn't see the spread eagled girl at the top of the hollow, but her continuing screams were driving every one crazy.

All the while, Peggy Wilson continued to scream and to suffer. Her screams were often somewhat choked by the ants which even swarmed inside her mouth and her nostrils. Ants covered her lidless eyes, eating away at the soft tissues despite the intensity with which Peggy flung her head from side to side. Nothing helped, nothing protected her from the biting ants and the savagery of her Apache captors. By the time the sun was at high noon, the ants had stung and eaten her skin until she looked completely raw from knee to throat. Unable to close her eyes, the horrible insects had also eaten away her eyeballs, leaving her blind in her agony. And still the naked blonde lived and screamed, not even close to death, although her mind was no longer capable of functioning on any level other than that of a pain-crazed animal.

For further sport and to increase the fury of the trapped soldiers, the Apaches finally removed Peggy from the ground. They brushed the ants away, drawing cries of pain at their rough touch on her blistered, raw skin. They dragged her over to two upright poles set about four feet apart and faced her down the hill so that she could be clearly seen by the soldiers. Of course, Peggy couldn't see anything any more. She could only mumble her pleas for mercy through lips and tongue swollen by ant stings. But the Apaches didn't know the meaning of mercy. Her position would allow Peggy's relatively untouched back to provide her captors with further amusement.

Meanwhile, the soldiers in the hollow could now see the bound white girl with their binoculars. The sergeant swore feelingly as his binoculars brought the image of the tormented white girl close enough to get a close look at the terrible tortures she had suffered during the night and morning of hell. He watched them tie her wrists to wet rawhide thongs dangling from the tops of the poles so her arms were stretched wide apart as she was raised up to the very tips of her toes. Then they pulled each foot apart, suspending her from her wrists, following which they pulled each slender ankle sharply downwards. This increased the strain on Peggy's nude body as she was spread eagled in mid-air. Again wet rawhide was used to secure her ankles. Now no part of her shapely body was hidden from the attentions of her merciless captors.

The chief of the war party now started to scalp her, gathering her mane of blonde hair and running a cut around the margin of her hair-line while two laughing braves held her head steady. The pain was terrible as the front of her hair was pulled up, pulling her skin with it. Slowly, the chief peeled her scalp back, revealing the bloody flesh beneath. The red-stained whiteness of her skull showed through the bloody tissue as her long blonde hair was completely stripped free.

Now Peggy's lovely buttocks were the target of a multitude of cactus spines. Her hips jerked and convulsed as each spine was shoved through her tough flesh and deep within the juicy meat inside. She couldn't stop her mindless dance of pain as her hips made all the charms of her bare body dance erotically.

Meanwhile, other Apaches busied themselves gathering greasy creosote bushes. They began to split the wood into thick slivers from four to six inches long and about a fourth of an inch thick. Peggy jerked involuntarily as the first of these were shoved into her wobbling derriere. She was already terribly familiar with the feel of a cactus spine being shoved an inch or so into her body. But this creosote shaft sank four throbbing, agonizing inches into her clenched buttock and still left an inch of greasy wood quivering as it stuck up from her punctured skin. There were probably fifty or so cactus spines in her bottom already, but that left plenty of room for other painful intruders.

The brown-skinned savages proceeded to slowly shove these sharp implements deep within her shuddering and squirming ass. When at length Peggy's posterior was covered with cactus spines and mesquite splinters, the resourceful tormentors progressed on down her plump thighs. They shoved the cactus spines and the mesquite splinters inches deep into her taut muscles. When the helpless girl had been "furred" from her ankles to the small on her back, the splinters were cruelly lit.

As the first splinters began to burn merrily, fueled by the grease permeating the creosote wood, Peggy arched her back with one of the most maniacal shrieks yet. The searing fire licked at her pierced, suffering flesh as more and more splinters caught fire until her thighs and ass looked to be a solid sheet of flame.

After the fire guttered out, Peggy's wretched sobs finally began to subside. But the Apaches were waiting for her to become aware again to continue her torment. One brave held her blistered buttocks wide apart so that the delicate sphincter of her anus could be exposed. Peggy shrieked insanely as a creosote splinter a quarter of an inch thick was shoved into her brown-stained sphincter muscle, a quarter of an inch from the opening of her anus. Blood bubbled from the puncture as the splinter went three inches into the tough muscle of her sphincter and her rectum. Another one was immediately started on the other side of her anus. And after that another and another and another. There were plenty of creosote splinters left to shove into that sensitive orifice until it was virtually hidden from view. And then, of course, the splinters were lit . . .

One of the Apaches now returned with a rare find. His sharp eyes had picked out a wasps-nest where the baby wasps were just beginning to hatch. Peggy was not even aware of their conversation as she was still trying to recover from the searing pain that had burnt deep within her smooth flesh. But the gleeful Apaches lost no time in trying out their idea. One of them pulled Peggy's raw, plump vagina lips widely apart. The ants had even feasted on her inner tissues, as evidenced by the bloody ruin of her inner membranes.

But now the wasps nest was jammed into her wide open cunt. One of the Apaches shoved it further up inside of her with a stick The newly-hatching wasps, finding their exit blocked by moist, tender tissue, reacted as expected. They instinctively lanced their small but quite functional stingers into the quivering membranes of the madly shrieking girl again and again. But the captive girl was totally unable to control her inner flesh to release the maddened wasps, and their stings made her vagina swell, even further trapping the small insects inside her. The spread eagled girl danced in her bonds with struggles that threatened to tear her legs from her hip-sockets with the violence of her struggles.

Gradually, Peggy's struggles slowly diminished as the wasps were smothered inside her swollen and venom-riddled vagina. The savages pried the remnants of the nest out of her. Her head hung down as she existed within a dark world of never-ending pain. She felt a new assault below her bare feet as small fires were lit so that the merry flames could reach up to caress each straining toe. That kept the suffering girl screaming for a while longer. When she showed signs of lessening her screams, kerosene soaked rags were stuffed in her vagina and lit, sending the naked Peggy into convulsions so extreme that this time she indeed succeeded in pulling her hips out of socket, aided by the tension of the shrinking rawhide at wrist and ankle. Even that hardly stopped her helpless gyrations as she lunged against her tightening bonds in a vain attempt to make the flame in her pussy go out.

The Apaches tightened her bonds so she remained stretched tightly. The rawhide was wet down again so that the she was stretched as tightly as possible, even with her dislocated hips. Soon even more pressure was put on her screaming joints as the rawhide dried in the heat of the afternoon sun. Peggy's plump, naked breasts were their next target, still shapely but swollen by the venom of the scorpions and with her skin totally raw from the attacks of the carnivorous ants. Now cactus spines and creosote splinters sank deeply into suffering girl-flesh until the twin mounds are completely pierced. Now the terrible splinters were lit again, and Peggy's frenzied screams and struggles warmed the hearts of the cruel Apaches.

Her screeches rose to a crescendo when her struggles, aided by the tightening rawhide, caused her arms to pull from their sockets with an audible "chonk." Her screams were ignored as the rawhide was again tightened and wet down. The pain as she dangled from dislocated shoulders was beyond belief.

It was late afternoon by now as the Apaches begin to skin Peggy's slim back. They ran parallel slits from her shoulders down past her waist, then they began to pull and slice each strip free until the bloody flesh hung down over her hips and buttocks. She was virtually insane with pain in as her exposed nerve endings were stimulated by a flaming torch laid up against her raw flesh. The torment was increased as the drying rawhide stretched her until her elbows and knees were both dislocated and every muscle in the taut column of her nude body was pulled rock-hard with strain.

With Peggy stretched so tightly she could hardly breathe, much less scream, the Apaches began to butcher her. Two Apaches carefully skinned the pierced and scorched skin from her massive breasts. When her bloody skin had been totally separated from the underlying flesh, they began to carve strips off her raw and bleeding mounds. Two Apaches went to work on each rock-hard thigh, first skinning what flesh remained to expose the raw underflesh. Then they carefully separated out an individual leg muscle at her hip, carefully slicing the tendon free so that they could peel the muscle down her leg to dangle from its other tendon at her knee. Then they found another muscle and repeated the torture . . .

After the first brave had carved on her roasted mammaries until there is nothing left to carve, he looked for further amusement. He took his bloody knife and slowly, gently shoved the point inward on the left side of her belly. Once it had pierced Peggy's abdominal muscles, he slowly drew the knife across her quivering abdomen, leaving a red slit behind that hardly bled because of Peggy's dehydration. The gash went horizontally across her flat belly, right through her navel, opening her up from hip to hip. Grinning at her gurgles of mortal agony, he began to pull out her intestines until they dangled down to her knees. Peggy's mouth was wide open, gasping for air in order to mewl her torment, but she was weakening rapidly.

Several scorpions remained after being used on her nipples and breasts, and these were shoved inside her mouth. Strong hands held her jaws closed as the savage beasts used their stingers wildly. Every sting caused her head and neck to convulse until finally she jerked free of the Apaches. Several scorpions scrambled out of her mouth before falling into the flames beneath her feet. The tortured girl felt a blessed coolness caress each foot for a bare instant as her blackened feet were roasted by the terrible fires. But the coolness was only momentary, as the kerosene that had been poured on her feet burst into flame.

Hideous agony coursed through her mangled legs as more kerosene was poured over her calves until Peggy was aflame from toe to knee. The corrosive effect as the kerosene soaked into her butchered legs was only momentary until her thighs were soon aflame to her hips. The fire moved up Peggy's body relentlessly as the Apaches applied the kerosene with brutal skill. The searing flames moved to her hips, her waist, and up her torso to her mangled chest. The finale came as the Apaches began pouring kerosene over her scalped skull.

Shortly afterward, Peggy Wilson was ablaze from toe to head. She jerked for several seconds in the consuming flames, a horrible monument in the gathering darkness to the savage war between the two races, before finally slumping into the welcome arms of death.