Chapter 142 Assault in a Passageway
If the evening before Erika's trial had been a nightmarish physical
ordeal, the long hours before dawn were to test her spirit to the fullest. At
Slegg's direction the two Malayan sailors who had pulled her to her feet soon
led her toward an aft stairwell that led down to the infirmary below. Erika had
breathed a soft sigh of relief when Captain McMahon had given orders not to
molest her further, but her respite from abuse was to prove ludicrously
short-lived. Her virile escorts, whose unfortunate lot it had been to have been
on duty throughout Erika's cock-stiffening exhibition in the Bird Cage, wasted
little time in making up for their previous bad luck.
Erika's bare feet were still on the bottom rung of the ladder-rail when
the thug who had preceded her down the ladder wrapped his hands around her naked
thighs and pulled her roughly into his heavily tattooed arms. "C'mon, Raka," he
growled in pidgin Chinese, "let's have our own little party with this wench!"
Erika cried out in surprise and struggled to free herself from his
grasp, but the well-built Malayan quickly cupped a brown hand over her mouth to
silence her. Thrashing furiously in his arms, Erika tried to bite at the hand
that gagged her and was repaid when the tattooed man seized her right wrist,
gave it an agonizing wrench, and then crushed it into the hollow between her
shoulderblades. Moments later, Raka, his companion, a short, squat,
broken-nosed deckhand, scrambled down the ladder and helped his comrade drag the
hammerlocked blonde into a dark corner of the narrow passageway.
Once there Erika could only flail away ineffectively with her left arm
as the ugly little man's hands reached for her naked breasts. The islander gave
vent to a series of amorous grunts as he attacked Erika's soft, creamy mounds
with unbridled enthusiasm, first using his nimble brown fingers to measure the
warmth and weight of each of her luscious breasts and then roughly mashing her
tender mounds together. Grimacing in discomfort, Erika slapped clumsily at
Raka's lust-contorted features again but succeeded only in angering the
diminutive seaman. Snarling angrily, Raka cocked his thumbs and drove them into
the tips of her breasts as if her pinkish-brown nipples were the stubbornest
of thumb-tacks.
As tears of pain formed in her eyes, Erika tried again to fight her
tormentor off by aiming a knee at his groin, but her blow glanced harmlessly off
his leg. The stocky sailor quickly retaliated by crushing his sweaty body
tightly against hers. While Tattoo jammed her imprisoned wrist into her spine
with back-arching pressure, Raka slid the slender fingers of his left hand
underneath an impudently upthrust pleasure-mound, and lifted it toward his
descending mouth.
Growling with carnal pleasure, he buried his broken nose between her
succulent breasts and attacked them with his mouth as if they were over-ripe
fruit, laving them with sweeping swipes of his tongue and lavishing them with a
series of sucking, slobbering kisses. Once Erika's superb pleasure-globes were
dripping with lewd saliva, he concentrated his attention on the glistening, half
erect tips of her breasts, which still bore the faint creases left by three
bouts with Jasper's Slegg's nipple-cords. Raka trapped each of Erika's tempting
love-nuggets tips between his yellowed teeth in turn, first tugging them gently
into full erection and then closing his teeth even more firmly around the tender
buds.
As he ground his teeth into Erika's tender left nipple, Raka reached
down and felt between her legs, giving her mons a virile squeeze before
thrusting a pair of fingers into her defenseless vagina. His plunging fingers
seemed to re-kindle the fire in the nuoc-cham, the red chilli paste Tranh had
swabbed on her genitals.
Erika doubled up in pain and revulsion only to feel the insistent
pressure of Tattoo's erection against the cleft of her buttocks. Writhing
furiously, Erika fought again to break free from the man whose tattooed arm was
clamped so tightly over her mouth that she could scarcely breathe, but it was no
use. The two men continued to manhandle her until they were startled by the
sound of footsteps clattering down the metal ladder, followed moments later by
the rasping voice of Jasper Slegg. Cursing the mate's interruption under his
breath, Tattoo let Erika slip from his grasp, while he stuffed his newly-freed
man-weapon back into his trousers. Meanwhile Raka backed away from her too,
wiping at the corners of his mouth.
As Slegg came around the bend in the passageway he eyed the two men and
their teary-eyed prisoner's saliva-covered breasts suspiciously. "Didn't you
blokes 'ear the cap'n! 'e said 'No more rough stuff,' " Slegg snapped, the
sharpness in his voice belied by the malicious smirk lurking at the corners of
his mouth. The ill-tempered mate gave Raka an amused glance -- the chunky
Malayan appeared to be oblivious to the fact that he was running his pink tongue
over his lips like a gourmet who had just sampled the most delectable of
tidbits. Snorting to himself, Slegg eyed the fresh indentations in Erika's
delectable areolae with ill-concealed interest.
But having been dressed down in no uncertain terms by Captain McMahon
less than a quarter of an hour earlier, Slegg contented himself with letting his
eyes wander over Erika's body admiringly for a moment or two before barking,
"Ye were supposed to take 'er to the infirmary, not turn 'er into a bloody
sandwich! Step lively, now!"
The Malayans, muttering inarticulate imprecations under their breath,
quickly muscled their comely prisoner to a half-opened door at the end of the
passageway and threw her roughly inside. Slegg watched from the doorway as
Erika landed face down across a foul-smelling cot in the small dark room.
Fearing another assault, she quickly turned to face her assailants, pulling
herself up on her haunches, pressing her legs tightly together and crossing her
fisted arms defensively over her heaving breasts.
Visibly trembling, she glared apprehensively at the Malayans as they
gave her sensuous body, seductively half-illuminated by an oil lantern hanging
in the passageway, a last lingering glance. Then, at a gesture from Slegg, they
sullenly followed the mate out of the little room. A moment later the door
closed, thrusting Erika into darkness, the ominous click of a latch informing
her that patients in the infirmary of the Yang-tze Dragon were not at liberty to
leave.
