Although they couldn't be seen in the mirror, she sported brown, rubber-sole boots laced half-way up her calf. She also wore a black sleeveless tee-shirt with the word 'CUNT' artistically arranged in the middle of it, but it wasn't that which annoyed her mum. It wasn't her fault if the old cow couldn't keep up with fashion, but Bunny knew that if you didn't flash the gash in this neighbourhood you were fucking nobody, girlfriend! And it wasn't as if she shaved it like some tarts. She kept the hair long enough so you had to get real close to be sure you could see the lips and clit and all. And her inner lips didn't drop out like some fucking inner tube like some sad bitches."Don't be back late!" yelled her mum, as Bunny slammed the door behind her and made her way out of the estate, past the graffiti on the walls and discarded needles and rubbers in the gutter, towards the spot by the park where she and her gang would meet for their night out. And there they were, or at least some of. .. Abigail had been changed by her capture. Through systematic abuse , they changed Abigail into an obedient slave. Always tormented by guilt feelings because of her abundant sexuality, she had become convinced that God had sent the devil to punish her for her ?sins?. So, one part of her was prepared to accept the extravagant torments the Indians visited on her. In her mind the Apache`, a savage godless people, had become Satan’s tools sent by God to punish her for her sinful nature. In her mind, she was in hell because she was a ?bad? woman. A female who ?sinned? by experiencing sexual pleasure. In her mind, broken and twisted by torture, Abigail Hart had begun to embrace her degradation. In the weeks and months ahead, this would be noted by her captors, who considered her submissive acceptance of what they did to her as more evidence of the white woman’s disgusting weakness and their superiority. CHAPTER 5: THE MARRIED WOMENOne night, in a smoky wickiup, several squaws.
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