 |
|||
|
|
Chapter 152 Whipped by the
Warlord
The creaking hull of the Yang-tze Dragon shuddered noticeably as it breasted a wave in the
suddenly choppier sea. But despite the
freshening wind, the merciless noonday sun continued to beat down on the
foredeck of the Dragon,
and on Erika Weiss's nude body as she struggled against her bonds. Her long blonde tresses tossed lightly in the
breeze as Erika tried time and again to tear her wrists free from the leather
thong which bound them to the top of the crude iron grating. But time and again she failed. Her struggles, however, had not been for naught,
at least so far as the excited crewmen of the Yang-tze Dragon were concerned. For the strain of her exertions had bathed
her taut-stretched body in a perspiration whose
inviting glow contrived to enhance the perfection of her matchless physique.
A stride or two aft of her left shoulder, the menacing
figure of General Wang feasted his eyes on the succulent curves of Erika's body.
His right arm, poised to strike, held the venomous-looking cat o' nine tails
which the girl on the grating had been forced to fashion with her own soft
hands. Arranged haphazardly behind him, the
sailors of the Yang-tze Dragon, to a
man galvanized with voyeuristic lust,
milled around their voluptuous prisoner like a pack of wolves, each man jostling
his neighbor in
order to improve his line of sight. They
jabbered excitedly in a babel
of Asian tongues as they waited for Captain Andrew McMahon to give the signal
for the flogging to begin.
"You there!" There was a
steely ring of authority in General Wang's voice. "You! The big one!"
Yim, the
ungainly giant who had strapped Erika to the grating moments before and still lingered nearby, pointed his thumb at himself questioningly.
The
general nodded irritably. "Yes, you! Her hair – move it out of the way."
Yim nodded
dimly and moved back toward the grating. He took the long mane of blonde hair
that spilled over Erika's rounded shoulders and parted it with his big hands.
"Remove
it from her shoulders, you fool!" Hsi Fong snapped impatiently. "So that it does not become entangled in
the general's lash.!
The
oafish collier glanced at him uncertainly and then threw the long pony tails he
had created over Erika's shoulders, partly obscuring the proud jut of her breasts.
"Hey,
dummy! What are you doing? We want to see those juicy tits!" Erika cringed at the brutal callousness of Khasar's voice. The Mongol
had taken a stance to one side, so that he could enjoy to the fullest
the one-sided duel between Erika's inexpressibly soft breasts and the
unforgiving roughness of the bars of the grating.
Yim
scratched his chin stupidly for a moment or two before arriving at a solution
to his dilemma. He placed his meaty hands
under Erika's uplifted arms, letting them rest for a moment on the subtly
sensuous protrusions of her ribs. Then, realizing that the sea breeze had begun
to cool the metal bars, the giant slid his hands forward, wedging them into the
narrow gap between Erika's chest and the grating. With his thick fingers just touching the
undersides of Erika's splendid he eased his fingers slowly upward over the sweet swell
of her breasts before brushing her honeyed tresses away from her swollen
globes. Then, pleased with his accomplishment,
Yim slid his big paws back under Erika's lush mounds and
cupped them with greedy hands while he ogled Erika's tempting backside. He kneaded and squeezed Erika's tantalizing tit-flesh
in his sea-weathered hands for several cock-pleasing seconds before being
called to task.
"Out of the way, Yim!"
Deng-shan called out in half-joking Chinese from near the front of the pack . "Do you
think you're the only one who wants to see that sweet ass!"
The hulking Malayan scowled
and answered the ear-ringed handyman with a gruff rejoinder and an obscene
gesture, but after giving Erika's puckering nipples a parting pinch, he backed
away and crouched down on one knee so that those behind him could get a better
look at Erika's ceaseless struggles to free herself from the grating. Some of the men, among them Froggy and Khasar, had edged to
one side so that they could catch a glimpse of her thrusting breasts, which she
strove mightily to keep clear of the rough-edged bars of the grating. But the cruel twosome and their neighbors on
that wing had little doubt that a few well-applied strokes of the whip would
soon drive the coral-brown tips of Erika's tempting mounds into the cruel
metal.
But
most of the sailors of the Yang-tze
Dragon were quite content to remain in the irregular semi-circle of men
which had formed behind Erika, a vantage point from which they would be able to
savor to the fullest every twitch of her back muscles, every oscillation of her
shapely buttocks, every tremor of the sweet, soft flesh between her creamy
thighs.
"Drummer! Man your drum!"
Ribald cheers from the men of the Yang-tze Dragon greeted the booming voice of Captain Andrew
McMahon.
"Aye! Give the wench some
music to dance to!" Froggy croaked.
"Hang on tight, Missy!" Jasper Slegg taunted Erika in a mocking voice. "But wiggle that pretty arse all ye like! Right, boys?"
Another raucous roar of approval washed across the foredeck
as a blush of humiliation cast a rosy glow over Erika's glistening back and
buttocks.
Slegg clenched his fist
exultantly. He could scarcely believe
his good fortune. He had cleverly finagled
Tranh and Lucky into accepting his bet that Erika Weiss
could not endure twelve strokes of the whip without screaming for mercy. The fools! He had had to give heavy odds of
course. In fact, he had had to stake his
share of the profits from the Night of the Seven Torments. But General Wang's skill with a whip was
known from
"Drummer!" McMahon
bellowed again impatiently.
Raka the drummer was
one of the Malayans who had manhandled Erika in the passageway outside the
infirmary following her abortive attempt at escape. The squat little man had been eyeing the
inviting groove separating Erika's shapely buttocks with such rapt
concentration that he had not heard the captain's first command. But when his
accomplice in the prior evening's assault elbowed him sharply in the ribs he
snapped to attention and saluted the master of the ship. Then, responding to a curt gesture from
McMahon, the broken-nosed islander began to beat out a pagan tattoo on a crude
drum whose wooden frame and tight-drawn skin had been cut from the flora and
fauna of a Javanese jungle.
Erika's well-toned body tensed with trepidation as the
pounding of the drum slowly grew louder.
Glancing over her left shoulder she saw that General Wang had drawn
still nearer, his demonic visage ablaze with cruelty. His fingers stroked the knotted strands of
the whip with perverse pleasure while his soulless eyes ravished her sun-kissed
nudity.
"The preesoner will coont the straiks!" boomed the
stentorian voice of Andrew McMahon over the pounding of the drum.
The pulse-pounding drumming had all but silenced the
raucous crowd of seamen, and so it was that when McMahon gave Raka the signal to cease, the deck of the Yang-tze Dragon was, for an instant, as
silent as the ocean floor.
But only for a moment. As Erika steeled herself for the lash, the
momentary silence was interrupted by the dry hiss of the cat as it cut through
the air and then shattered by its explosive impact against the soft skin of
Erika's bare shoulders.
WHFFTTT!! CRACKK!!!!
The
spread-eagled blonde answered the sharp smack of the whip with a muted groan of
anguish. Erika's naked body shuddered against the grating, the soft planes and
hollows of her upper back having been wrapped in a blanket of fire. As she
squirmed, the lecherous crewmen whose eyes were glued to her nudity gave voice
to a excited shouts of approval.
"A good 'un, that was, yer
honor." Slegg's
gravelly voice cut through the boisterous catcalls with little difficulty. His
smirking, gloating tone was almost as difficult for Erika to bear as the pain
of the lash. She fought back the tears
that had begun to fill her eyes and tightened her jaw, praying that she could
find the strength to endure the twelve strokes of the cat without crying out.
For if by some miracle she could manage to do so, she could cheat Slegg of the blood money he had earned by exploiting her in
the Bird Cage.
As the general drew back the slithering tails of the whip,
he studied the lurid imprint the cat had left on Erika's creamy flesh. The
corners of his mouth curled into the satisfied smile of an artist pleased with
a skillful brush-stroke. Earlier that
morning he had been primarily an observer during Erika's frightful ordeal of the gauntlet. How
stimulating it had been to see the blindfolded beauty stripped to the waist and
forced to stagger through the withering crossfire of blows delivered by the
crewmen of the Yang-tze Dragon! Even so, it was far more thrilling it was to
see her naked body twisting and turning in response to his
own lashes.
The wicked warlord had delivered the first blow at only
three-quarters strength, but even so Erika's hourglass-shaped torso seemed to
rise up slightly against the grating, as if the sensuous stretching of her body
could somehow soothe her suffering. In
actuality, however, her wanton movements were driven by a desperate impulse to lift
her heaving breasts away from the rough-edged metal of the framework.
But in her haste to spare her breasts,
Erika had forgotten the conditions of her flogging.
"You have forgotten to count the blow,
fraulein. Shall I begin again?"
"No! Bitte…" Erika gasped. "Eins … eins."
"I know little of your barbarian tongue, fraulein, and
these ruffians," General Wang paused to indicate the bloodthirsty
semicircle of sailors with a wave of his hand, "know even less. Be so good as to
count in Chinese, so that your admirers can follow the progress of your
flogging."
Panting breathlessly and trying to ignore the flames
searing her shoulder blades, Erika mumbled an almost inaudible, "Yi"
– the Chinese word for 'one'.
At a nod from the captain, Raka
began beating his drum again, slowly and softly at first, and then, by degrees,
increasingly louder and faster, with
each beat of the drum bringing Erika Weiss a heartbeat closer to new
agony. When the swift percussion had reached its crescendo in volume, McMahon
silenced the drummer with a glance, and the general's ghastly whip took flight
again. The cruel warlord aimed the second stroke at the creamy, unmarked skin
just below Erika's reddening shoulder blades.
WHFTTT! CRACKKK!!!
The
nine claws of the cat tore at the blonde's bare flesh, clinging to it for a
dreadful instant in time, before sliding down her torso, leaving an irregular trail of fire
across her naked back.
"Urgghh!!" Erika groaned again, still softly, but louder than
before. The force
of the second blow, like the first, had driven her upper body into the
rough-burred grating and once again her defenseless breasts felt the abrading
kiss of the bars.
Wang
watched the pale body writhing against the crude iron grating with mounting
excitement. Erika's efforts to keep the
front of her body away from the bars of the grating had forced her to bow her
back outward slightly, enhancing the natural curvature of her body. Her beautifully shaped buttocks, cleft by a shadowy
groove that promised forbidden pleasures, undulated in sensuous circles as her
body reacted to the shock of the lash. What an addition to the harem of sex-slaves at
his island fortress this blonde demi-goddess was
going to make!
The
general's shaven skull glistened in the sunlight as he waited a few seconds for
Erika to tally the stroke. He was
scarcely surprised that the searing pain had caused her to forget her
obligation to count each lash aloud.
"You disappoint me, fraulein.
Yet again you have forgotten to count the blows. A slave must learn obedience," he
whispered softly, as he slashed at her again.
The knotted strands of the cat revisited Erika's upper back, scalding
flesh already ravaged by the whip.
WHFFFTTT!! CRACKKKKK!!!
Having had no prolonged drumbeat to brace
herself, Erika was taken by surprise . Her head recoiled in suffering, her golden
hair bouncing gently on her whip-reddened shoulders. Her long, low moan of anguish, while not
loud, testified to
the power of the general's stroke. " 'Er',"
she gasped. And then
"'san'".
"No, fraulein. Since you did
not count the second stroke, I will not count it either. I implore you not to be so careless
again."
Jasper
Slegg chortled under his breath and threw Tranh a gloating glance.
The extra lash the general had delivered was bound to make the success
of his wager even more certain.
As Raka started his frenzied drumming anew, the general
noticed that the second stroke to Erika's bare shoulders had broken the skin in
several places leaving perceptible pinpricks of blood. He glanced down at the whip and noticed that
a few of the knots were stained with fresh scarlet. An excellent whip, he admitted grudgingly, to
break the skin after only two strokes to the same location.
As
the drumming grew louder, Wang eyed the sweet vertebral indentation that
bisected the peaches-and-cream flesh of Erika's back. When Captain McMahon's stern nod to Raka produced an eerie silence, the general swept the
nine-tongued whip across Erika's mid-back with purposeful savagery.
CRAACCKK!!
"Enngghhhh!!"
Erika grunted through clenched teeth, suppressing her agony. The soft skin lining her spinal column felt
as if it were a bridge of flesh across a lake of fire. Once again the force of the blow drove the
tender tips of her breasts into the rough edges of the grating. As she struggled to pull her torso away from
the framework, the look of unbridled blood-lust in Khasar's
eyes was proof that the abrasive burrs had encrimsoned
her tender breasts.
Out of the corner of her eye, Erika saw that
the general had lifted the whip again.
She remembered just in time. "San!" she gasped breathlessly, counting the third stroke
again. "San!"
As Raka once again took up his drum, General Wang's crony, Hsi Fong, ogled
Erika's unintentionally lascivious writhings against
the iron grating with a lecher's amorous eye.
Although the sea had grown decidedly more choppy in the hours since her
ordeal on the Wooden Lady, the mid-day sun still bathed Erika's remarkable body
in a warm glow, casting a patina of perfection on her flawless flesh: the
muscles of her long, shapely legs, stretched taut by her bondage; the tempting
clenching and unclenching of her sumptuously curved buttocks; her ripe-nippled breasts driven by the withering whip-strokes to
play peek-a-boo with the onlookers with every torment-tossed twist of her
body. What a lust-arousing contrast
this sensuously shaped European posed to the exquisite, but more petite charms
of his slender, shorter Asian concubines. He had envied the Englishman, Slegg,
earlier when the libidinous first mate of the Yang-tze Dragon, had used the threaded
shovel handle to wreak havoc on Erika's superb breasts, and he envied his old
comrade-in-arms now as Wang lifted the whip to rake it across her back once
again.
It
was remarkable, Fong thought, how this exhibition of erotic cruelty had
restored his spirits. When they had come
on deck that morning both he and the general had been green from a night of
violent seasickness brought on by the sea-churning squall of the night before. But even though the sea was growing rougher
now, the sight of Erika Weiss's nude body wriggling against the grating had swept his miseries
away like a sea breeze from the south.
As
for his old friend, Hsi Fong mused, the black-eyed general seemed to have
sipped from the fountain of youth.
Earlier that morning, he had moved like a man of his years, a man of
middle age. But now, inspired by the
beauty of the blonde temptress lashed securely to the grating, the general's eyes were bright, his step was
light, and he was delivering each stroke of the lash with the vigor of a man
half his age.
Pom!-Pomm!-Pommm!-POM!!-POMM!!-POMMM!!! The drum
thundered and then, when it suddenly fell silent, Hsi Fong's fellow-sadist struck
again. Grunting furiously, General Wang
lashed Erika across the small of the back with a ferocity that sent her narrow
waist and billowing hips into a paroxysm of suggestive squirming that warmed
the blood of every man on deck.
WHFFFTTT!! CRACKKK!!!
"Nggghhhh!" Every fiber of Erika's being longed to
release some of her suffering with a primal scream so loud that it would
reached the mainland she feared she would never see again. She might well have given into the impulse if
Jasper Slegg had not found that moment to taunt her
anew.
"Look
at the way the wench wriggles that sweet arse! She likes a bit of the whip, like the tart
she is!" Jasper Slegg's
rasping insinuations added a brush-stroke of humiliation to Erika's canvas of
woe. But it reinforced her determination
to keep him from profiting from her agony.
Erika's
fortitude could not, however, still the agitated side-to-side tossing of her
rounded hips which so inflamed the ardor of her virile audience. "Si…" she
groaned, remembering to count 'four' … "si."
"Would
ye look at that, boys?" Slegg rasped to his
fellow crewmen. The bloody whip's improving 'er memory!" The mate fingered the bandage over his aching
eye as he watched the sensual undulations of Erika's behind with mixed
emotions. He was delighted to see her
writhing in agony, but he was still furious that his attempt on the prior
evening to cram his randy cock into the sweet suction of her churning rectum
had been cut short by her attempt at arson.
Worse, he was beginning to grow concerned that his wager, which until
now he had regarded as nearly a sure thing, might possibly be at risk.
"Give 'er another, yer honor," he blurted
to General Wang. "And lay it on
hard! The boys want to hear our golden
canary sing, don't ye lads?"
Erika
trembled in despair as many of the sailors voiced their support for Slegg's incitements to even greater savagery.
"Right! The wench tried to set the ship on fire,
didn't she? She could have killed us all!"
"Aye!
No mercy for the slut!" The throaty
croak of Froggy's voice was unmistakable.
"Whip
the whore! Make her pay!" As was the cavernous bass of Khasar the
Mongol.
Erika
tried to take solace from the fact that a tiny handful of the crewmen, among
them Tranh and Lucky, did not join in. But in her heart of hearts she knew that
their seeming clemency had more to do with their wager than her welfare.
She
glanced over her lash-reddened left shoulder and saw that General Wang was
glaring at Jasper Slegg as if the mate, in
questioning the force of his blows, had insulted his manhood. As the general's right hand tightened its
grip on the menacing whipstock, Erika knew that she
would pay the price for his irritation at Slegg's
insolence.
As Raka re-commenced his dreadful drumming, Erika struggled
anew at her bonds, twisting and turning her wrists frantically, trying to free
them from the thong which imprisoned them.
But Yim had knotted the thong well and the
provocative gyrations of her well-toned body served only to season the appetite
of the diners at this maritime banquet of flesh and flagellation.
Pom!-Pomm!-Pommm!-POM!!-POMM!!-POMMM!!! The drum
bellowed boldly into the breeze, before suddenly falling silent once
again. Every muscle in Erika's body went
tense. She was a vision of blonde,
taut-fleshed loveliness as she waited for the next blow to fall.
The
general's face was a mask of fury as he drew the whip back. He took dead aim at
the base of Erika's delicious derriere and swung the beaded whip-knots at her
deep-cleft buttocks at blinding speed.
WHFFTTT!! CRACCCKKK!!!
"Nrrgggghhhh"
Erika's guttural groan was that of a wounded animal. For the general, irritated by Slegg's insinuations and sorely tempted by so luscious a
target, had finally struck with his full strength. "Funf!"
Erika sobbed softly. The terrible knots
had bored deep into her buttock-flesh and driven her burning pelvis into the
ridges of the grating for a lacerating second or two. It was only after she
tore her upper thighs free from the framework that she remembered to translate
the count into Mandarin. "Wu!" she gasped in a voice racked by
suffering. Wu!"
No sooner
had she stammered out the count, than Raka began
pounding on his drum anew. Each cycle of drumming was faster and louder than
the one before, making sure that Erika's fear and terror were unceasing.
Although
half-blinded by tears of pain Erika could sense the lust-crazed seamen pressing
closer. Many of the Chinese sailors,
their dark queues trailing partways down their
slender backs, were huddled closely together on her left, their intense gaze
fixed on her nude body. A cluster of
sun-bronzed Malayans encircled Raka the drummer. Their eyes bright with jungle passion,
several of them danced lightly on their feet in rhythmic accompaniment to Raka's percussion.
The men in both groups jostled their neighbors constantly, each man
anxious to get a better view of the lurid streaks the thief's cat had painted
on Erika's churning bottom-ovals. Erika
tried valiantly to contain her reaction to the prior blow, but from her
high-strung wrists to her wide-spread ankles, her succulent young body
shuddered in pain and her derriere wriggled in protest.
Pom!-Pomm!-Pommm!-POM!!-POMM!!-POMMM!!!
The
rising, racing crescendo of the drums promised new horrors and the muscles in
Erika's arms and back and legs once again tensed defensively. But there was no defense, for when the drums
fell silent, the general's strong right arm struck again, whipping the knotted
cords into the ripest curves of her behind.
CRACCCKKKK!!!! Once again the report of the whip on soft
female flesh reverberated across the deck of the tramp steamer like a rifle
shot.
"Ngggghhhhhh!! Mein Gott!!" The lowest strands of the cat had overlapped
the previous blow, exacerbating Erika's agony and dotted her quivering lower
buttocks with specks of crimson. "Liu," she groaned, counting off the
sixth stroke. How, she wondered, how
could she endure another six strokes from the hellish lash she had been forced
to fashion?
The
violent shock of the last two blows had rewarded Froggy,
Khasar and the others who had positioned themselves
at right angles to Erika alongside the grating.
For each blow had been delivered with such force that Erika's mouthwatering
breasts seemed to leap upwards from her chest in tantalizing fashion before
crashing into the rough edges of the grating.
The cooling breeze had taken the heat-sting from the metal bars, but the
jagged burrs that pitted them still greeted Erika's bare breasts with claws of
iron.
With
the barbaric punishment only half completed, General Wang wiped at the sweat on
his brow. An unimaginative whip-wielder
might have delivered a dozen strokes in ninety seconds or so; but a man of his
experience well knew how to expand two minutes of exquisite pleasure into
twenty.
The
sun was almost directly overhead now, both glowing witness and accessory to
Erika's torture. For the heat of the
noon-day sun on her whip-ravaged body only added to Erika's misery.
And
to the onlookers' delight. Thin rivulets
of perspiration, spawned by the cruel conjunction of sun and savagery, but
unable to keep pace with the rhythm of Raka's drum,
dripped down Erika's back at a glacial pace, commingling with faint streaks of
crimson. Together the blood and sweat
decorated the most beautiful canvas imaginable – a nude female body, writhing
under the lash.
As Raka approached his seventh crescendo, General Wang drew
the whip back, his soul-less eyes once again fixated on the plump curves of
Erika's backside.
Pom!-Pomm!-Pommm!-POM!!-POMM!!-POMMM!!!
WHFFTTT!! CRACKKK!!!!!
The hiss of the whip was followed by the violent smack of the nine tails
against the tops of Erika's huddling bottomglobes,
etching yet another trail of fire into her burning buttocks.
Erika's
long, low groan, muttered through teeth bitterly clenched in the hope of
cheating her tormentor of satisfaction, seemed to linger in the sea air for
some time. With each blow it was
becoming more difficult to pull her crimson-smeared torso away from the
lacerating bars. Out of the corner of
her eye she saw that Wang had lifted the whip again. "Gi!" she
gasped belatedly, remembering her obligation to tally the strokes.
But it was too late.
The nine-tailed cat had already again taken flight.
WHFFFTTT!! CRACKK!!!
Wang's
lust-swollen testicles throbbed with virile pleasure as he jerked the whip
back, unveiling the livid weal the punishment stroke had left on the back of Erika's left
upper thigh.
The
sex-crazed assemblage was once again treated to the sight of Erika Weiss's
shapely backside churning against the grating, her sweat-moist gluteal muscles clenching and unclenching spasmodically as
she suffered the ravages left by the penalty stroke. "Gi," she
gasped again, recording the seventh 'official' stroke.
General
Wang let the rising rhythm of Raka's drum continue
longer than usual before the next stroke, allowing the ominous clamor to build
and build and build before unleashing a horrific side-arm blow that drove the
leather knots deep into Erika's quivering buttock-flesh yet again.
WHFFFTT CRACCKKK!!!!
"Nggghhhh!!" It was all
Erika could do not to scream her suffering to the sea and the sky, and to whimper for mercy like an abject slave. The latest stroke, searing anew flesh which
had already been raked by the lash, left her nude body clawing against the
grating, as she fought to contain the cry of agony on her lips. "Ba!" she muttered grimly through tight-clenched lips,
mouthing the Chinese word for 'eight'.
Once again Erika's involuntarily sensuous
writhing provided a feast of voyeuristic pleasure for the men who had planted
themselves nearest her. Froggy, Khasar and their
neighbors devoured her every salacious movement, every jiggle of her luscious
breasts and every wriggle of her golden mons with
ever-deepening delight.
"She
felt that one, didn't she?" Froggy
gloated.
"Aye, that she did! Look
at her wriggle like the whore she is!" Khasar
countered.
"Ooohhhhhhhh!" Erika moaned softly as the pain searing her
scarlet-streaked buttocks continued to mount. She tried to force herself to
lift her body free of the abrasive ironwork, and was able to do so for a moment
before her strength failed her and her body slumped forward against the
grating. But to Jasper Slegg's dismay, her lips had
still not parted with the cry that would line his wallet. And there were now but four strokes to go.
While
the general, who seemed intent on prolonging Erika's suffering as long as
possible, paused again, ostensibly to wipe the sweat from his brow, Jasper Slegg considered his situation. As he pressed the back of his hand against
the throbbing cut above his eye, he could see that suffering and fatigue had all but stripped the
vitality from Erika's sky-blue eyes.
Clearly on the verge of exhaustion, if not collapse, she no longer had
the strength to keep the front of her body away from the rough-edged grating.
But
along with the exhaustion, he thought he saw the hint of a sly smile in the
eyes of the proud prisoner. Somehow, he
felt certain, Erika Weiss had gotten wind of his ill-considered wager and was
determined to see him lose it, no matter how much it cost her in pain and
suffering. He knew that the blonde vixen
hadn't taken it upon herself to swallow her agony as part of some mystical personal
challenge; it was the treacherous wench's way of getting back at him.
Slegg
cursed himself for offering the heavy odds he had ventured, but who would have
believed that this golden-haired temptress could have endured five flesh-searing strokes of the cat,
much less ten, across her bare back and rounded buttocks without screaming
bloody murder. Especially
after having undergone the rigors of the gauntlet, and the triple impalement on
the Wooden Lady.
Jasper
Slegg cast a glance at Tranh,
who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously. 'The yellow bastard!'
Slegg raged under his breath. He had a hunch that the
wily ship's cook, had found some means of tipping off the blonde whore whose
blue eyes glared at him so contemptuously.
He had grown more suspicious when Tranh,
normally a chatterbox, had been so uncharacteristically silent while the men
had bellowed their encouragement to the general. And now, since the crafty ship's cook seemed
to be avoiding his glance altogether, he was sure of it.
But what to do about it? With only four lashes to go, how to turn Erika's pretty
mouth, with its mocking half-smile, into an instrument that would proclaim her
suffering to the world? If it was up to
him, he would have Yim untie Erika's ankles from the
grating and twist her around on the rack so that the front of her body could
taste the full fury of the lash.
Jasper Slegg
recalled his incredibly vivid dream of the night before, and the intense remembered
pleasure of whistling the thongs of that braided whip across the ripe curves of
Erika's breasts. Blood, the rich, raw
blood of male mastery, surged through his swollen genitals as he pictured
himself clutching the cat, clenching his jaw, and slamming those
scarlet-spattered leather pellets into Erika's naked breasts.
Or
maybe he'd have Yim hang the sexy slut from her
heels, lashing her ankles to the upper corners of the grating. "Bloody hell!"
Slegg cursed under his breath, as another wave of
pain coursed through the wound over his eye. How he'd love to grip the whip and
exact his revenge by targeting the soft, warm folds of flesh between Erika's
creamy thighs! THWACKK! THWACKK!!
THWACKK!!! In his mind's eye he
envisioned Erika's smooth thighs quivering, her belly muscles contracting
spasmodically, her superb breasts oscillating enticingly as the cat's terrible
tails ravaged her sensitive vulva and clawed at her moist clitoris.
Unfortunately,
as Jasper Slegg was well aware, there was a better chance of the Yang-tze Dragon colliding with an
iceberg in the warm waters of the
Slegg
wiped at the lust-sweat that had collected on his brow and scowled as he watched General Wang
conversing with Hsi Fong in low tones.
The two men took in with gloating smiles the sight of the magnificent
young woman suspended from the grating, her body alluringly taut, the
well-toned muscles in her arms and legs stretched to their limits. Their feral grins hinted at the nature of
their conversation, which surely had to do with the depraved pleasures they
would extract from their blonde slave once she was a prisoner in the general's
island citadel. Slegg
glared at them enviously. What he
wouldn't give to have such a plaything as a slave to his own dark desires!
********
For
his part, General Wang was indeed enthralled by the beauty and stamina of his
new slave. He had interrupted the
flogging briefly to whisper to Hsi Fong that their erstwhile host and sometime
rival, George Chan, had certainly trained her well. Most of the women of the male-dominated
realms of east Asia, were of a docile nature, their
soft brown eyes accustomed to the downward glance of submission. But even though Erika was poised at the very
brink of exhaustion, a fire, a fierce inextinguishable fire, raged in the
bright blue eyes of the long-legged blonde who was pinned to the grating like a
beautiful butterfly. It was almost
inconceivable that a woman of Erika's beauty and spirit could fail to have an
ardent nature, a nature that would make possessing her in every way imaginable
an even greater pleasure.
His
passion roused to a fever pitch, the grim-faced general inclined his head
toward Hsi Fong as the latter, whose stern visage was fixed on Erika's nude
body, complimented him on his dexterity with the whip. The general bowed to his crony and then turned,
whip in hand, and approached the grating
once again, just as another cresting wave buffeted the Yang-tze Dragon, knocking him slightly off stride.
The
general quickly righted himself though and Erika's body tensed noticeably when
she felt his hands on her hips.
"No… " she protested vehemently,
stiffening in revulsion when he inverted the handle of the whip and pressed it
between her legs, cramming its knobby end between the soft petals of flesh
guarding her vagina.
"Do
not let it drop, fraulein," he warned her sternly. "Or you will have cause to regret
it."
When
her glistening eyes fired blue daggers at him, the general worked the whip
handle deeper into her clutching sex and whispered, "Foolish wench! Do you think that such maidenly displays will
repel me once you are on my island?"
As the
evil warlord, his hands now freed, seized Erika's whip-warmed buttocks in his hands, she willed
her vaginal muscles, which under the stern tutelage of George Chan had been
trained to please a man in every way imaginable, to clutch the whip
firmly. Meanwhile Wang squeezed her
bottom-cheeks roughly, his talons gouging deep into her springy derriere, while
the men of the Yang-tze Dragon looked on with vicarious delight.
"Soft
as a baby," the general murmured appreciatively as his fingers spread over
Erika's behind like spider legs, fondling every square inch of her ass-flesh
lasciviously. He stepped closer and
moved his hands to her hips, and then pulled her bottom subtly against his
swollen erection. Then he clutched her ass-cheeks
again, pressing his thumbs into the rounded flesh on either side of her butt
cleavage, and spread her shapely demi-ovals apart, so
that he could inspect the winking rosebud between them.
The
shaven-headed warlord emitted a sigh of pleasurable anticipation as he admired
the inviting orifice whose elasticity his lust-engorged manhood longed to test. Grinning wickedly, General Wang spat on his
middle finger and pressed it firmly against Erika's muscular ringlet. Finding her nether passageway as tight and
resisting as a virgin's, he pursed his thin lips and whistled softly. O what orgies of depravity awaited him at his
island citadel!
"Du Schwein!" Erika's abject humiliation caused the insult
to escape from her trembling lips before she could summon the good sense to
suppress it.
"You
have more spirit than sense, wench," the general replied with a cruel
sneer, roughly jerking the whipstock from her pussy
just as another cresting wave rocked the Yang-tze
Dragon. Stepping back angrily, he signaled for Raka
to take up his drum, while he eyed Erika's taut-stretched body and the
scattered traceries of scarlet that dappled her sweat-soaked back and
buttocks.
Pom!-Pomm!-Pommm!-POM!!-POMM!!-POMMM!!!
Erika's
wrists tugged on the leather thong as she tried to brace herself for the whip,
but there was no way to prepare naked flesh for the fiendish WHFFTTT!! CRACKKKK!!! that
resulted when General Wang slashed the blistering beads of the cat into the
already rosy base of her buttocks.
"Yesss!!!" he whispered exultantly as he felt the
delicious sensation of recoil a whip-wielder feels when he lashes the one
female backside in a hundred that is superbly rounded, springy and resilient. A
jolt of manly pleasure traveled up his arm, down through his shoulders and
chest and belly before finding its way to his throbbing manhood. His mind raced as he pictured his insolent
captive bound in a dozen provocative poses, each more shameless than the last,
in his
As
for Erika the flames of anguish that the general's punishing whip-stroke had
send coursing through her spread-eagled body finally outstripped
her heroic stamina. But even in
mid-faint from the cumulative shock and pain of her ordeal, she managed to keep
from screaming, gasping out only a pitiful, strangled 'jiu'
to tally the ninth blow. Then a final
paroxysm of suffering swept through her hourglass-shaped torso and her nude
body slumped against the grating as she succumbed to the sweet solace of
unconsciousness.
Still
furious at being insulted, and anxious to continue the taming of the
traumatized temptress, General Wang turned to Andrew McMahon inquiringly to see
if British naval custom or tradition held that an unconscious prisoner was to
be spared further punishment.
"Are
ye daft, mon!" thundered the captain. "If preesoners
knew that fainting would spare 'em a thrashing,
they'd swoon like a schoolgirl after the first stroke. I ordered a dizzen,
by God, and a dizzen she shall hae!"
"I
quite agree, Captain," General Wang replied baring his teeth in a wolfish
grin as he let the scarlet-smeared beads of the whip trail through his fingers,
testing the knots carefully to make sure that they had lost none of their
tightness, none of their sting. "Firm
discipline is the cornerstone of leadership."
As
the general strode menacingly back in the direction of the sweat-drenched body
on the grating, Slegg's mind raced as he tried to
conjure up a way to extract a wager-winning scream from Erika Weiss without
incurring the wrath of her new masters.
Luckily Erika's fortuitous collapse suggested a means by which he might
yet win his bet. But it was imperative
that the final lashes be delayed until she had regained consciousness. He had to act quickly to buy some time.
"Beggin' yer pardon, yer lordship!" Slegg called out, directing
his comment to General Wang who had paused once again to confer with Hsi Fong.
"What
is it?" General Wang's voice positively
dripped with disdain. He was not used to
having his conversations interrupted by men of Jasper Slegg's
station in life.
"Just wanted to say, your honor, that a bucket or
two of water – nice cold sea water – would revive the prisoner before you can
say Jack Robinson. Ain't that 'ow we usually do it, sir?" Slegg
asked, turning toward the red-bearded captain. "Five shillings
'll get you seven that the wench is
play-acting anyway."
Ignoring
Slegg's proposition, Andrew McMahon extracted a
pocket watch from the recesses of his threadbare blue jacket, and then glanced
at the position of the sun in the heavens to confirm the time. "Aye, Slegg. Ordinarily I'd let the preesoner
come to on her ain.
But in the interests of time – and seein' as hou we hae
a fourth count still to come, ye may proceed."
" 'ave Yim lower two
buckets!" Slegg rasped to Deng-shan. "And tell 'im
to be quick about it."
Within
a minute or two, the ape-like sailor and a companion had lowered two
four-gallon buckets over the side, filled them near to the brim with sea water,
hoisted them back up on deck and manhandled them over near where Erika's
lividly-lashed body still lay motionless against the grating.
"This'll
wake 'er up, yer honor," Slegg
explained to General Wang. "Sure as
sunshine." He strode forward and
seized a handful of Erika's golden hair. He pulled her head back hard, hard
enough to cause Erika to moan softly but without fully regaining
consciousness. Then, stepping back so
that he held her upturned head with a fully extended arm, he signaled for Yim to empty the first of the two wooden pails.
Yim
hoisted the first of the two brimming buckets as if it were no heavier than a
thimble and emptied it over Erika's upturned face. The icy torrent of cascading sea-water revived Erika
instantly and she spluttered profusely as she tried to move her head out of its
path. Slegg's grip on her blonde mane was rock-solid,
however, and
she was forced to endure the entire four gallons splashing down onto her head
and face.
It was only a heartbeat later when Erika felt the first
sting of the salt as the water poured down over her shoulders. Every muscle in her body went taut as she
began to feel the sea-water seeping into every abrasion and every laceration on
her whip-ravaged shoulders and back.
The dreadful brine found her breasts, too, and coated her shapely
love-turrets, pinpricked in a dozen places by the burrs in the iron bars, with
its saline venom.
"Aiiiiaahh!!"
Erika gasped softly as she was seized by a convulsion of agony that left her
naked body quivering from outstretched wrists to spreadeagled
ankles. "Ooh….Oooohhhh! Mein Gott!
"Aye. That woke the little faker up right and
proper, your lordship," Slegg snarled. The Englishman stepped back and joined the group
of men standing nearest the grating and nudged Froggy's
elbow triumphantly as Erika continue to thrash against the iron meshwork. Slegg ogled the enticing
shimmying of Erika' s whip-reddened buttocks with
lustful eyes, but his salacious pleasure was tempered by the knowledge that he
still had yet to come up with a scheme to extract a wager-winning scream from
the suffering blonde
As the numberless particles of salt seeped into her wounds, Erika's
moist-dripping body continued to shudder violently against the grating. Her frenzied contortions caused the iron
framework to rattle noisily against the bulkhead against which it was propped,
and to slip downward ever so slightly from its nearly upright position.
As Jasper Slegg watched the
grating sliding down to a less upright, somewhat unstable-looking angle, his
eyes were drawn to the pool of brine on the deck beneath it, and a sly smile
creased his thin lips. For an idea had come to him, an evil, twisted idea,
which might yet win his wager. He reviewed his plan quickly – yes, with Froggy's reputation for clumsiness – often induced by
alcohol -- and Yim's painfully obvious slow-wittedness, he just might pull it off!
Slegg glanced around
surreptitiously to see if anyone was watching and then, confident that all eyes
were on Erika's luscious body, he whispered a few hurried words of instruction
into Froggy's ear. At first Froggy
looked doubtful, his lip curling in disfavor, but when Slegg
added some whispered words of explanation, not to mention a share in the
profits, Froggy's frown brightened into a cunning smile.
"Here, let me straighten that thing!" Froggy announced loudly as he limped forward in an ungainly
fashion, seemingly intent on returning the grating to its former upright
position. But as he approached the
framework, he seemed to lose his footing on the brine-soaked deck, and timing
his slip perfectly he fell forward clumsily, his left foot striking the bottom
of the grating and dislodging it from its precarious perch.
Erika gasped in horror as she saw the grating begin to
slide downward, and did her best to brace herself, but a moment later the iron
frame slammed into the bepuddled deck with
bone-jarring violence. With a supreme
effort of strength and will, she had managed to protect her head and face from
the worst of the impact. But her efforts
could not stop the force of the collision from sending waves of pain shooting
through her outstretched limbs. Worse by
far, the grating's swift descent had left her defenseless breasts, which had
already suffered so much, to absorb the brunt of the impact.
Erika's coral-tipped treasures exploded with pain the
instant the grating hit the deck. The
metal framework, which she had fleetingly thought might cushion the impact of
her fall, seemed almost to exacerbate it.
Her misery was heightened by the realization that the sailors of the Yang-tze Dragon had once again greeted
her groans of anguish with enthusiastic cheers of delight. For even though Erika's mouth-watering melons
were crushed against the unforgiving lattice and largely concealed from their
view, the most myopic man on deck could see that the impact had sent fresh
waves of pain coursing through Erika's half-concealed breasts. Thirty-odd imaginations raced with virile
pleasure as they pictured the instant Erika's ripe-nippled
treasures had slammed into the abrasive bars of the grating and the havoc the
rough-edged metal must have wrought on her sumptuous pleasure-globes.
Meanwhile Froggy had righted
himself after narrowly escaping the falling framework and he gestured for the
muscular Yim to help him return the grating to its
former position. Froggy
muttered something under his breath to the slow-witted giant and then the two
men, after sliding around rather comically on the wet deck managed to return
the grating to its upright position.
But with one dreadful difference.
The framework was now inverted, with Erika's bound wrists
perhaps a foot from the deck and her spread-eagled ankles forming the upper
vertices of a 'Y' that would have tempted the chastest
monk in
"Ye bloody fools!" Slegg began, hoping
to disguise his part in Erika's erotic inversion. "Set 'er up
proper."
Froggy and Yim
put their hands on the framework as if to return it to its original
orientation, but they were waved off by an imperious gesture from General Wang.
"Wait!" he hissed, in a voice whose malice sent icy
chills through Erika's defenseless body.
"Leave her as she is."
Knowing that the humiliating parting of her thighs exposed
her sex to the General's menacing stare, Erika struggled anew to free herself
from her bonds. But even the grating's
violent collision with the deck had failed to loosen the thong around her
wrists.
"Excellent!"
whispered the General in a satanic voice.
Why was it, the warlord wondered, that female skin looked so inviting
when wet? A thousand droplets of water
clung to Erika's creamy body lovingly, as if they hated to release their
fragile grasp on her girlish flesh. The immutable laws of gravity had taken
hold and the circlets of water which only moments earlier had been sliding
toward her ankles had now reversed their course and slid down her newly
inverted body in red-tinged streamlets, slithering slowly across the smooth
planes of her shoulders and back. Two
tiny rivulets, more lascivious than the others, trickled down her inner thighs,
and joined together in a brief embrace at the juncture of her legs, before
finding the delicious fissure of Erika's buttock cleft. The miniature river seeped into that sweet
riverbed, anointing her anus and perineum with its brine while the men of the Yang-tze Dragon looked on with envious
eyes.
The
shaven-skulled general eyed the involuntary clenching and unclenching of
Erika's moist-glistening buttocks for a long moment, savoring every tremor of
her shapely demi-ovals. The saltwater had washed the streamlets
of crimson from the shallow lacerations on her behind, leaving her rosy,
deep-cleft buttocks fresh for new whip-strokes.
At a
signal from Captain McMahon Raka the drummer began again, his sparkling eyes focused on
Erika's backside, his dark hands furiously spanking the taut-stretched skin of
his tambour, which was such a resonant but lifeless substitute for Erika's alluring
backside.
Pom!-Pomm!-Pommm!-POM!!-POMM!!-POMMM!!!
Raka's hands were a blur as his frenzied drumming reached
its crescendo. When they fell silent the
General struck again, his right arm moving with such swiftness that the
nine-stranded whip was almost imperceptible as it knifed through the sea air. But the near silence ended the moment the
whip's progress through the air was halted by its collision with Erika's
shapely derriere.
WHFFFFFFTT!!! CRACCKKK!!!!
The
sixty-three knots struck at once, exploding against the moist film of seawater
glistening on Erika's bottom.
"Ngggghhhhhhh!!" Erika had done
her best to brace herself for the force of the lash, but falling as it did on
flesh already reddened by the whip, the blow was excruciating. Her body recoiled in a paroxysm of agony and
continued to quiver uncontrollably as the pain radiated through her pelvis like
an electric current. The general's
whip-stroke seemed to have atomized the cooling moisture of the brine while
leaving its salty venom behind. The
smooth skin on Erika's backside was ablaze as a thousand microscopic grains of
salt clawed their way into the abrasions left by the whip and began filling
them with their poison.
"Scream,
you fucking whore! Scream!!" Jasper Slegg
ordered the tortured blonde telepathically, as the thongs of the whip, more
than a few of them tinged with fresh scarlet, fell away from Erika's quivering
backside.
But
the only sound that escaped Erika's lips was a choking, sobbing,
"Shi!" as
she tallied the tenth stroke in a strangled voice. Two more, she thought. If she could only endure two more
flesh-searing strokes of the whip without crying out, she could take some
slight revenge on the villainous first mate who had
caused her so much suffering.
But Jasper
Slegg had one more card to play.
"She's
got a pretty puss, yer honor," Slegg muttered insinuatingly. "I bet the boys'd
like to see it wriggle." He turned
toward the frenzied crewmen of the Yang-tze Dragon. 'ow
about it, lads? 'ow'd
ye like to see 'er cunt dance a little jig for us?"
A
chorus of cheers greeted Slegg's words, with only
those who had taken Slegg's heavy odds withholding
their approval.
The
general gave Slegg a peculiar glance, resenting his
effrontery in suggesting a course of action to a man so far superior in rank
and privilege. And yet
…
The general's shaven skull glistened in the sunlight as his
snake-like eyes were drawn to the delicate folds of flesh between Erika's
legs. He smiled evilly as he draped the
nine-tailed whip over Erika's delectable feminity and
let the blood-smeared knots slither over the sweet slit of her sex.
"N-no… please …." whispered Erika in a tremulous
voice.
"Let 'er 'ave it, yer honor!" Slegg whispered
satanically. "ave ye forgot that she set the ship on fire? We're lucky to be standing 'ere. She could 'ave sent
us all to the bottom of the bloody sea!"
The general threw Slegg a
piercing glance. There was a mysterious
dynamic at work on the deck of the Yang-tze
Dragon, some unknown agenda that had made the feisty first mate even more venomous
than usual.
"I… I never mean to hurt anyone," Erika murmured
truthfully enough. She had only sought
to escape Slegg's brutal anal assault.
"Let 'er ave it," Slegg repeated. "Right between those pretty legs!"
Erika's body shivered uncontrollably as the shaven-skulled
general drew the tails of the knotted whip through her crotch with infinite
slowness, allowing the beaded pellets to reconnoiter the fertile valley between
her legs. Erika gasped under her breath
as the felt the tough knots of the whip scraping across the delicate folds of
her flesh, probing her femininity, seeking its most sensitive and vulnerable
regions.
"Look at the whore wriggle," Slegg
sneered as the deep V formed by Erika's wide-spread thighs quivered in response
to the strokings of the whip. "Give 'er what she wants, yer Lordship!"
As the General considered Slegg's
prompting, his thin-slit eyes feasted on the delicious view afforded by Erika's
inverted spread-eagle. Her sleek,
brine-moistened thighs and golden-fringed genitals sparkled in the brilliant
sunlight. The soft, pink folds of flesh
trembled invitingly as he pulled back the whip and slapped it lightly against
Erika's delectable vulva, drawing a muted gasp from his helpless captive. Erika's labia were still rosy from her
harrowing ride on the Wooden Lady, and their blush deepened in response to the
touch of the whip. General Wang's
stone-hard erection grew even more obdurate as the talented muscles that lined
the portals of Erika's vagina performed an involuntary but sensual dance that
made her exquisite love slit wink invitingly at him.
As the sadistic warlord drew the lash toward
him again, the knots seemed to cling to Erika's prominent clitoris, as if
reluctant to part company with the succulent sentinel
they had aroused with their touch.
"Do not worry, my little friends," the general admonished the thongs
of the whip under his breath, "your reunion with your pretty hostess is
not far off."
General
Wang's arm shot up and the nine-tailed whip leaped skyward. But just as the grim-faced officer's arm
began its swift descent, the Yang-tze
Dragon was buffeted by a swell dispatched by a merciful god of the sea and
the ghastly CRACCKKKK!!! of the lash ravaged the
delicate flesh on the inside of Erika's left thigh, missing her girlish
treasure by the narrowest of margins.
Even
so, the pain was nearly unendurable, and Erika drew blood from her lip in
trying to suppress a scream of anguish.
The intense vibration of her legs and abdomen rattled the grating so loudly
that she feared that the framework would crash to the deck once again.
But
still she did not scream. "Shi yi," she
gasped, tasting blood as she tallied the penultimate stroke.
Jasper
Slegg silently cursed the wave crest which had caused
the general's usually unerring aim to falter.
"Bad luck," he rasped encouragingly to the suddenly
queasy-looking general. "Easy does
it, your honor. Take a deep breath or two and ye'll
be fit as a fiddle." 'And split the
bloody whore in 'arf with the next one,' he muttered
under his breath.
As
the tails of the whip fell away from the defenseless V of her crotch, Erika's
long, lovely body shuddered in a final paroxysm of dread, for she knew that she
still hovered at the gates of hell. With
her head inverted, she could see only the eerie shadow of the whip as it
described an arc across the brine-wet deck.
For an instant the ghastly shadow seemed to be moving in slow motion as
the general continued his slow backswing, and then the shadow hesitated for a
portentous moment as her tormentor extracted another moment or two of virile
pleasure from this final stroke.
"C'mon,
yer lordship, give 'er a good 'un! Right atwixt those
pretty legs."
The
viciousness of Jasper Slegg's goading words stiffened
Erika's flagging resolve, and in the instant the shadow began its forward arc,
she bit down again on her bloodied lip and prepared herself for the final
clawing of the cat.
The
General's heart was pounding with excitement, and his testicles were charged
with erotic electricity as he swept the whip downward toward Erika's defenseless
crotch. As the whip flew through the
air, the luscious blonde's pelvis jerked spasmodically but this time there was
no merciful swell of the sea.
WHFFFTTT!!! CRACCKKKK!!!!
And the whistling cat o nine tails found the
very core of her womanhood, raking her clitoris with hellfire.
All
but a handful of the men of the Yang-tze Dragon roared with obscene gusto as
Erika's enticingly crimson-smeared buttocks jerked once and then again. All but one of the sailors exulted at the
sight of her tantalizing body writhing so sensuously against the grating as she
tried to soothe her suffering.
But there was one man who, for the moment was taking little
joy in Erica's misery. For, despite the
fevered writhings of her body, Erika had managed to
suppress the screams of anguish which would have doubled his profits, even as
her silence had stolen them. When he saw
Tranh and Lucky striding toward him, an amused
expression on their faces, a sullen Jasper Slegg
slammed his fist against the ship's rail and cursed the golden-haired beauty
who had thwarted his schemes once again.
A few minutes later, after an irritable Jasper Slegg had paid off the men who had out-witted him, he was
distracted by a rustling sound overhead.
Slegg glanced up and saw that the noise had
come from the noose dangling from the forbidding gibbet overhead. {see Chapter 151). The
gibbet whose presence on deck he and the other men who had been so mesmerized
by Erika's 'dizzen at the grating' had all but
forgotten.
The thick circlet of rope tossed ominously in
the sea breeze, just a few feet above the wooden rail which Deng-shan had affixed
to the hull of the ship. Slegg stared at the instruments of flagellation hanging therefrom {Chapter 151} and grinned
a ghastly grin. For one count of Erika's
guilt still remained to be punished.
Slegg had
been mystified when Captain McMahon had sentenced the blonde temptress to a
cryptic 'Flogging of the Bells' {see Chapter 147}. But given Andrew McMahon's taste for feminine
chastisement, and from the look of the gruesome implements of discipline
hanging from Deng-shan's hooks, he sensed that he
might soon have a chance to make good his revenge.
|
|
|