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Chapter 150 Lewd Caresses and Whispered Words
Erika Weiss's horrific ordeal on the
Wooden Lady completed, Tranh, the ship's cook, slipped
a pair of manacles on her pretty ankles and led the otherwise nude and
exhausted sex slave of the Yangtze Dragon
back to the infirmary. Upon arriving there Tranh lit
an oil lamp and placed it near the cot and then quickly bathed and fed his
beautiful beleaguered prisoner.
When Erika had finished
slurping the last noodle from a steaming bowl of pho,
she collapsed on the cot onto her side, cradling her rope-ravaged breasts in
her arms before drifting into unconsciousness. But her moment of peaceful
solace lasted only a moment or two before Thanh revived her by
tugging one of her arms away from her pleasure-globes and passing the foul-smelling bottle of liniment
under her nose.
"Not sleep yet, Missy!" he
had chided her. The wiry little man
directed her to lie face down on the cot as he prepared to give her another
rubdown with the stinging but healing liniment. "Captain want me
to fix you up ship-shape for the general, Missy!" Tranh
cackled as he rubbed the stinging lotion into her shoulders, occasionally
letting his fingertips graze the soft smooth skin on the sides of her
breasts. "Captain like you, Missy. He like you plenty –
I can tell. He think you very pretty girl. And strong too!"
Erika Weiss found more cause for
concern than comfort in these words but she did not resist as the Vietnamese made short
work of massaging his Mekong Lightning into first her shoulders and arms and
then her back and legs.
Tranh slowed his pace noticeably as he worked the liniment into
the curved mounds of her buttocks.
Smiling with lecherous delight, he massaged Erika's resilient
bottom-cheeks with the energy and passion of a man digging for buried
treasure. He cackled softly under his
breath as he dug his liniment-moist fingers into Erika's demi-ovals
and squeezed and slapped and massaged them until they were slick and
glistening. Then, shifting his weight
slightly, he edged her fettered ankles apart and insinuated a bony hand between
her legs and daubed the liquid fire into the sensitive portals which the sturdy
cocks of the Wooden Lady had so cruelly abused.
Erika flushed at the rudeness of his touch, but lay still knowing that Tranh's fiery
When Tranh
had finished attending to her pelvic area, he paused and chirped, "Missy's
titties plenty sore from ropes, I bet!" in his
peculiar high-pitched voice.
Erika's silence was an admission of
the truth of his words. The dreadful
pressure of the Wooden Lady's breast-ropes had left dark rings around each of
her aching love-mounds and her nipples were still sore from Jasper Slegg's punishing grip.
"No worry, Missy! Tranh fix 'em up, you see!"
After glancing at the door warily as
if fearful of an untimely interruption, the scrawny cook scooted Erika's nude
body forward on the cot until her head and shoulders and upper torso extended
well past one end of the crude bed.
Puzzled by the cook's behavior, Erika balanced herself by placing her
outstretched hands flat on the dingy floor of the infirmary.
Meanwhile Tranh had eased himself off the
cot and moved the oil lamp so that it cast its pale halo of light on Erika's
upper body. Then he settled into a
cross-legged position on the floor between her widespread arms. Facing the door so that he could not be taken
by surprise, the grinning cook inched forward until Erika's silky blonde hair
was pressed against his scrawny chest.
It was only then that Erika saw how hungrily the little Vietnamese eyed
her plump breasts which hung downward like over-ripe fruit.
As the little man rubbed his palms together gleefully, Erika
realized that the lecherous cook had positioned her as he had not so much to
treat her injuries, but for his own pleasure.
Licking his lips with anticipation, Tranh poured an ounce or so of the liniment into one cupped
hand, re-corked the bottle with the other and then rubbed his hands together
until they were evenly coated with the liquid fire. His crooked teeth bared in
a wolfish grin, the little man's moist hands reached for Erika's pendant
tit-globes. Stifling Erika's murmured
protests with a snarl, he proceeded to knead her firm young breasts with an
avidity that belied his years, rubbing the liniment deep into her pore of her
gleaming breast-flesh.
Erika gasped when she felt the fiery unguent on her sensitive
mounds, but by now she realized that the awful burning sensation would prove
only temporary. But what was not
momentary was Tranh's assiduousness in working the
tonic into her love-gourds. When the first handful of liquid was all but
absorbed Tranh splashed a second, and later a third
helping of the tonic on his yellowed fingers before attacking Erika's swollen
pleasure-gourds with fresh élan.
As Tranh
continued his carnal caresses, his manhood hardened until it dented his dark
leggings like a tent pole. The ship's
cook could not believe his good fortune.
For all their dark-eyed beauty, the women of his homeland were typically
small-breasted. In his years on the Yang-tze Dragon he and his salacious shipmates had stripped
hundreds of brothel-bound beauties for their manly pleasure. But of all those delectable creatures, only
two or three had been endowed with breasts which could begin to rival the warm,
ripe mounds he held in his cupped hands at that moment. And those had been women eight or ten years
older than this blonde demi-goddess. Those women had still been eminently
desirable, of course, but their pectoral muscles had lost a bit of the
delicious tone of youth, and their skin had been neither so soft nor so fresh as the flesh he now fondled with such unbridled
delight.
As he continued to cast occasional fearful glances toward the
infirmary door, Tranh kneaded and squeezed Erika's
pendulous pink-tipped melons as if he were a man possessed. Becoming more excited by the moment, his
breathing speeded up and a film of perspiration dampened his face and
forehead. The little man mashed Erika's
liniment-slick mounds together and then, pressing her nipples firmly with his
thumbs, pushed them upward against her chest until Erika winced in discomfort.
Tranh paused to wipe the lust-sweat from his brow and then cupped
Erika's pert-nippled beauties again. This time he tugged on them with a downward
motion and then pulled them apart, using his thumbs to flick Erika's tempting
breast-tips until he felt her nipples straining, proud and firm, against the
heels of his hands
"Nice tits, Missy. Nice
tits, for sure," he chortled in his reedy sing-song voice.
As she watched Tranh's
almond-shaped eyes constantly flitting from her breasts to the doorway, Erika
was grateful that the little man was apparently fearful of discovery. For only that fear, no doubt, prevented the little man from
undoing his trousers and forcing her to fondle the aroused maleness that
pressed so ardently and obviously against the fabric of his leggings. A momentary wave of nausea passed through her
body as she pictured herself being force to bring the lecherous Vietnamese to
climax with her hands, or worse yet her lips and tongue, while the little
yellow man manhandled her breasts with such diabolical glee.
As if he had read her mind, the
moist-browed little man muttered a strangled, "Eyah!'
and his left hand abandoned Erika's right breast, and flew to his crotch. Tranh threw another
furtive glance at the doorway, and then opened his fly, liberating his
dark-veined phallus, which bobbed in the air only inches from Erika's face,
quivering in the final throes of arousal.
"Unghhh! Ungghh! Unghhh!"
The Vietnamese grunted as he fisted his swollen erection with urgent
fingers. Handicapped by her awkward
position, Erika tried to pull away, but the little man's right hand tightened
its grip on her left breast.
"Suck,
Missy, suck!" he hissed urgently, as he gripped his
throbbing cock and pressed its glistening tip to Erika's lips. "Now! Chop-chop!
Before somebody come." When
Erika hesitated, Tranh dug his talons into her left
breast with such punishing force that Erika was on the verge of surrendering to
the little man's perverse cravings.
But just then a sharp rap on the door put off, for the moment, at
least, Erika's further degradation. "Tranhie! It's me!"
Erika breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the ancient door
behind her creak open. Meanwhile Tranh unburdened himself of a litany of muttered
imprecations as he hastily stuffed his moist-tipped penis back inside his
trousers and struggled to his feet.
Freed of his grasp, Erika slid her body back onto the bed and
turned toward the doorway in a sitting position, with her back against the
wall. She gripped her shins a few inches
above her ankle-shackles and drew her knees up against her chest defensively.
"Tranhie - did you hear? Did you hear what Slegg's
up to?"
Erika recognized the newcomer.
It was Lucky, the man who had talked Slegg
into giving each of the crewman a minute or two to fondle or abuse her breasts
during the Night of the Seven Torments.
'My God,' Erika thought, as it struck her that despite all that had
befallen her since, she had endured the dreadful Seven
Torments not much more than twelve hours ago.
"How could I hear?" Tranh
snapped angrily. "I tending to Missy. Taking good care of
her."
"Tending to 'er, eh?" Lucky smiled roguishly as he ran
his eyes over Erika's bare legs as she chastely tucked her knees up under her
chin. "Can't say I blame ya, Tranhie. I
wouldn't mind giving her a little "tending to" myself!" he chuckled. "She was a pretty sight on the 'Lady'
wasn't she? The Emperor himself never
had it so good! Slegg's
a prick, but he can sure put on a show, can't he? I swear on my father's honor
that if Slegg had given that shovel handle one
more crank he'd have torn her tits off!"
Erika's naked body shivered uncontrollably, for the Chinese sailor's
vulgar discourse had captured her own sentiments. That was precisely how she had felt when the
breast-ropes of the Wooden Lady had tightened that last, dreadful time.
"Never mind that," said Tranh irritably. "Why you here?
What was that you said about Slegg?"
"Well, Slegg
was up on deck …." Lucky paused and
glanced at Erika doubtfully, and then beckoned to Tranh
to join him in the doorway.
Erika strained to hear the whispered
mutterings of the two men as they whispered excitedly in Chinese, but
could only make out the words "General Wang" and "whip" and
"Slegg."
As Lucky mouthed the mate's name, Tranh
slammed the door panel with his fist and
snarled "the greedy bastard."
But finally the two men turned toward
her and stared at her
thoughtfully. "What
do think, Tranhie?
Think she's up to it?"
Tranh gave
Erika the kind of long, soul-searching stare that one sees in a gambling den
when a player tries to judge whether his opponent is bluffing. The kind of stare that tries to pry into the depths of one's soul. Not knowing the purpose of his inquisitorial
stare, Erika met his gaze defiantly.
After Tranh
had stared into Erika's azure blue eyes for some time, he crossed his arms over
his chest and closed his own eyes. He
stood stock still, swaying almost imperceptibly for another minute or so as
Erika and Lucky looked on in puzzlement.
Finally Lucky, tapped him on the shoulder, reviving Tranh from his meditative state. The ship's cook's eyes fluttered open and he
stared fixedly at Erika again for some moments.
Finally he exhaled deeply and whispered in a voice that seemed to have
been sipped from the well of wisdom during his period of almost mystical
concentration, "Yes, I think she's up to it." He thought for another moment and added. "She has every reason to hate him."
"Should I take him up on it,
then? The amount is considerable."
Tranh stared
into space thoughtfully again before making his decision. "My friend, I
was born in the year of the Rooster.
Last night, when we raced up on deck and cut short this lovely
creature's attempt to escape,
I noticed that the stars were favorably aligned for one of my birth. Very good joss. All will be well."
"Are you sure? If we are wrong…"
"There is no certainty in this life, my friend. And no certainty of a next life either.
Sometimes one must take a chance."
Lucky nodded. "Very well. I shall take him up on it, then." Lucky turned to leave and then turned back
and ran his eyes hungrily over Erika's curled up nudity and winked at Tranh. "How about a quick look, mate? No harm in that is there?"
Tranh, still
preoccupied with his own thoughts, said nothing.
"How about it, Tranhie," Lucky whispered cajolingly. "What are
pals for? Have her spread those pretty
legs for me."
Erika flushed and tried to inch away
from Lucky's prurient gaze, but there was no place to
go, no place to hide.
"C'mon, Tranhie,"
Lucky implored him again, as the Chinese sailor moved closer to the cot. "Are we pals or ain't
we?"
The Vietnamese ship's
cook ogled Erika's nude body for a moment, his momentary brush with philosophy
behind him. "Sure we are," he
giggled, his voice once again pitched high and thin. "Spread 'em,
Missy," he smirked.
Erika shook her head, 'No,' but Tranh hissed, "Do it Missy. Or we'll do it for
you."
As the two men stepped closer, Erika
surrendered to the inevitable and shifted her pulled-up feet an inch or two
apart, opening her legs slightly.
"Wider, Tranhie,"
Lucky whispered as he inched closer. He
was standing at the edge of the cot now directly in front of Erika. He crouched down to improve his view of
Erika's exquisite genitalia.
"Lucky's
done you a good turn today, Missy. Time you showed appreciation. Spread legs for
him," the cook whispered. "Nice and slow."
Still mystified by the two men's
enigmatic conversation, Erika had no clear idea what good turn Lucky might have
done for her, but she did know that only these two, of all the men on the Yang-tze Dragon, had showed her even an
ounce of sympathy. A poor alliance was
better than none at all. Doing her best
to smile at the almost drooling Chinese, she parted her legs a little more.
"What do you think, my friend!" Tranh enthused as he
slapped his crouching comrade on the back.
"Sweet dim sum, you bet!"
Lucky, meanwhile, was transfixed by
the sight of Erika's liniment- moist pussy and reached out and put his hands on
Erika's narrowly-parted kneecaps and spread them further, giving himself an
unobstructed view of Erika's glistening lotus.
"Ai, what a
beauty!" Lucky whispered reverently as his roving eyes scrutinized
the tempting, golden-fringed folds of flesh between Erika's parted thighs. He
wiped traces of lust-induced spittle from his mouth with a filthy sleeve. "Look at it, Tranhie! I bet it tastes as sweet as it …"
Lucky's
simile was interrupted by another knock on the door, this one much louder. "Hurry up, Tranhie!"
growled a voice that Erika couldn't place.
It's lunch time and the men want their
rice."
Lucky glanced at his friend and saw
that Tranh had already begun to move toward the
door. The Chinese cursed under his
breath regretfully, straightened and backed away from the cot.
"Maybe later," Tranh consoled his partner before turning back to wink at
Erika, who had cradled her legs together again.
"You get rest now," he said as he and Lucky made their way to
the door.
"She's going to need it,"
Lucky muttered. "Should I tell
her?"
Tranh paused
in the doorway and thought for a moment. "No, not now. Let her sleep. Like you say, she gonna
need it." Then he stepped back into
the room and seized the oil lamp that had bathed Erika's pink-tipped breasts in
its pale light. Crossing again to the
door he pulled it shut behind him, leaving Erika trembling
the darkness, trying to sift some meaning from her captors' enigmatic words.
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