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Chapter 164 The Island of Torment
Bruised and bloodied, Erika Weiss quickly came to terms with the fact that, for the moment, at least, there would be no chance of another escape. There were soldiers in front of her alongside the general’s chariot. At Lieutenant Meng’s direction, his men also took up positions on her left, to her right, and behind her. The result was that each of the dissolute and disheveled young gunmen had a different vantage point from which to view and appreciate Erika’s humiliating nudity.
Her morale nearly crushed by her recapture and her arduous return to the clearing, Erika tried to summon her last bit of courage to face her present predicament. But it was not easy. In the brush and the forest, at least there had been foliage and trees that partially obstructed the views of her pursuers and eventual captors. Now, however, there was only glistening sunlight and shimmering heat waves between her ripe-breasted body and the lust-filled eyes of the misbegotten brutes who constituted the general’s private militia.
The heat, too, seemed more oppressive now than it had been in the woods. Not only was the sun blindingly high in the sky, but the total absence of shade in the clearing and along the winding upward path to the warlord’s castle weighed heavily on her spirits. Erika cast her blue eyes longingly toward the cool waters of the cove, soundlessly imploring her captors to let her throw her sweat-soaked body into the waves lapping gently against the jetty, if only for a moment. But she had few illusions that such a request would be granted. Nor, she judged, would it profit her to ask her captors to allow her to slake her thirst. Better to silently endure, at least for the moment.
The fact was, of course, that the general’s soldiers, if the word ‘soldiers’ could even be applied to such an ill-favored band of cut-throats, reveled in the sight of the streamlets of perspiration dripping down from Erika’s chest and shoulders onto her superb breasts. Her back, too was aglow from her exertions, and the men stationed behind her were perfectly positioned to see the droplets of sweat leisurely making their way down the base of her spine and into the tempting cleft of her rounded buttocks. The traces of dirt and blood on Erika’s nude body did nothing to reduce the enjoyment of the onlookers.
“All right, lads,” Jasper Slegg smirked. “What ‘ave ye done with the princess’s ball gown? Ah, there it is.” The first mate stepped toward the chariot and removed the unusual accoutrement, a collection of buckles and rings and inch-wide straps of sturdy, dark brown leather.
During her flight, Erika had all but forgotten about the evil looking costume awaiting her, but seeing it again sent a fresh shudder through her body.
Having learned from their earlier mistake, Slegg and Tiger began by binding Erika’s ankles together temporarily to dampen any thoughts Erika might have had of trying to break free again. Then they proceeded to try to make the bondage garment, which had been fashioned for petite Chinese women, fit Erika’s voluptuous body.
The front of the garment was anchored by three silver rings, each about three inches in diameter. The upper ring, from which twelve metal studs protruded, spaced like the numerals on a clock, was designed to rest on the tops of the wearer’s breasts and was intended to serve as the hub for five spokes of leather strapping, two of them forming a vee of shoulder straps leading back over the wearer’s shoulders. Another pair of straps extended sideways from either side of the ring so that they would fit snugly across the tops of the wearer’s breasts. A fifth strap led downward so that it could be fastened to the middle ring, also embossed with flesh-gouging metal studs, that fit between and just beneath the wearer’s breasts.
Another pair of breast straps extended sideways from the middle ring. It took Erika only a moment to realize that when the upper and lower pairs of breast-straps were fastened behind her back, the straps would bite deeply into her breast flesh from above and below while the studs pressed hard against the inner curves of her breasts.
Yet another strap of leather extended southward from the middle ring, ending at the lower ring, which, when drawn tight, would press against her pubic mound. From the lower ring, a narrower dark strap led downward between the wearer’s legs, and then up through the cleft in her buttocks toward a larger ring in the center of her back. This last ring was designed to be the anchor of the costume, to which the shoulder straps and the upper and lower breast straps were also intended to be buckled.
At least, that was the way the garment was supposed to function --- as a restricting, titillating costume.
But when Jasper Slegg and Tiger attempted to buckle the straps to the anchor ring, they quickly learned that it would be a difficult task indeed to buckle all the straps on a woman, however slick and slippery with sweat, who was several inches taller and with a correspondingly larger frame than the petite Chinese lovelies for whom it had been designed.
“It’ll never fit,” Tiger muttered irritably as he tried to buckle the crotch strap to the back ring. Erika gasped in pain as Tiger’s exertions pulled the leather strap harder and harder, making it dig more and more deeply into her vagina and buttock cleft
“Bollocks!” Slegg snarled. “We’ll make it fucking fit!”
And, after several minutes of sweating and straining, the two strong men finally secured all the straps and buckles. Erika grimaced in pain as one pair of tough leather straps bit deeply into the tops of her breasts and another cut into the pale, sensitive undersides of her breasts, with the metal studs on each ring jabbing into the inner contours of her close-set love-mounds. Worst of all, perhaps, was the fiendishly tight crotch strap that felt as if it might cut her in two. It was clear to Erika that every step of her arduous journey up the steep grade to the castle would be painful indeed.
Throughout the fitting process, Erika had been looking this way and that, expecting at any time to see a soldier leading a horse, or perhaps a donkey or an ox, that would pull the general’s chariot up the hill. It was only when one of the soldiers produced a sturdy length of bamboo, some three inches in diameter and six feet in length, and Deng-shan the rope-master materialized out of nowhere to bind her outstretched arms to it, that Erika began to understand.
It was she who was going to be the beast of burden.
With a sinking feeling she realized that it was she who would be pulling the chariot up the steep approach to the castle. The general had planned it so that this dreadful task, her nearly nude body on open display to whatever soldiers and crewmen she passed along the way, was to be her initiation into servitude, the first steps of an endless journey into degradation and slavery.
Slegg and the soldiers looked on with excited interest as Deng-shan, using thick coils of rope, bound Erika’s shoulders, elbows, and wrists securely to the improvised bamboo yoke. When he completed his mini-masterpiece of rope bondage, Deng stepped forward and gave a little bow as he proudly presented the results of his labors to General Wang.
“Excellent, excellent,” the warlord, a man not given to undeserved compliments, exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as his marmoreal countenance would allow.
And what man would contradict his judgment? With her arms lifted and outstretched and bound to the yoke behind her neck, Erika’s magnificent, blood-streaked breast-melons threatened to burst out of the leather straps that constricted them.
“Nice, my friend,” Slegg muttered grudgingly to Deng. “But if ye don’t mind, ‘ow about we spruce up those pretty nips?” Slegg bent down and picked up a short length of discarded rope and worked the coarse material back and forth across the tips of Erika’s breasts until her pink pellets became inflamed and aroused by his attentions.
“How’d ye like to chew on those, lads?” Slegg rasped, as he doubled up the rope and thumped each of Erika’s breasts in turn.
To a man, the general’s men ogled Erika’s newly swollen breast buds admiringly. Her breasts were rapidly pinkening as the result of the pressure of the straps, and it seemed only fitting that her nipples be redder and more swollen as well.
It was then that Jasper Slegg noted that General Wang had called Lieutenant Meng some distance aside to discuss something, very likely the dissolute appearance and casual attitude of Meng’s squad. The general, a stickler for military discipline, had to be furious at seeing such ill-trained men in uniform. As the general began to upbraid Meng just out of earshot, Slegg decided to have a bit of fun with the recruits. And who could tell – doing a favor for these disheveled soldiers might serve him well one day.
Using the slender bamboo rod that he had borrowed from Wu in the forest, Slegg flicked Erika’s virtually naked bottomcheeks with a series of quick, compact strokes, directing her to turn and face each of her captors individually so that each soldier could fully appreciate Deng-shan’s workmanship at close range.
The soldiers stood, mouths agape, as Erika was presented to each of them in turn. One by one each of the scruffy band of ruffians was treated to a close-up view of Erika’s superb tit-globes. With her arms outthrust and bound tightly to the yoke, Erika’s pleasure melons stood out high and proud and bold-nippled, without a hint of the sag that often attends full, womanly breasts.
As she faced the first man, an ugly brute with fewer teeth than fingers, Slegg slashed his slender cane unerringly, bisecting the front of Erika’s lovely thighs with an almost soundless THWICK!
Ahhh!!” Erika gasped!
“Quiet, wench!” Slegg snarled in a low voice, fearful that the general would hear Erika cry out and put an end to his fun. “Or you’ll get the next one across those pretty tits!”
Erika nodded glumly. As Slegg had planned, not only did the wicked thigh-stroke leave an angry red mark on Erika’s legs, the force of the blow caused her to lean forward slightly. Jasper Slegg grinned, pleased by the notion of this proud beauty being forced to bow, in a fashion, to this ignorant, nearly toothless lout.
The soldier ran his thick tongue over his lips, practically drooling at the sight of Erika’s superb breasts encased between the tough leather straps. Her pleasure-mounds glistened in the bright sunlight, damp with perspiration and streaked with blood. A pale blue vein, made bolder by the pressure of the breast straps, pulsed faintly just beneath the surface of her creamy skin. Who could have imagined, even a day earlier, that an unlettered brute such as he would soon be ogling such a goddess!
Prodding her bottom with the cane, Slegg presented Erika to the second soldier, a scrawny, unwashed little man whose hair and beard were mattered with a month’s worth of oil and dirt. Erika cast her eyes downward to avoid making eye contact with the soldier, just as Slegg delivered a second cane stroke across her thighs, about half an inch north of its predecessor. THWICKKK!
Erika tried valiantly to stand tall, to resist bending forward slightly to her captors, but the sting of the thigh-stroke was so sharp that she could not prevent her upper body from dipping forward reflexively, symbolically offering her pink-nippled girl-globes to the man with the matted hair.
“What a pair of tits, eh boys?” the man with the filthy hair muttered to his comrades. “I’d give a week’s pay for a crack at those beauties!”
The soldier’s obscene comment was quickly endorsed by grunts of pleasure from his comrades.
Keeping an eye on the general to make sure that he was still distracted by his conversation with a very unhappy looking Lieutenant Meng, Slegg proceeded to present Erika to a third soldier, and then a fourth and a fifth. His wicked cane strokes marched their way up Erika’s thighs an inch at a time, drawing deeper and deeper bows from the blonde beauty.
There were nine soldiers in the irregular circle and each watched spellbound as the escalating power of the cane strokes bit more and more deeply into Erika’s creamy thighs. When Slegg presented her to the seventh man, a burly, big-bellied brute, he slashed her tender upper thighs with such force that Erika fell to her knees in pain.
“Get up, princess!” Slegg rasped. And then, after making sure that the general was still berating Meng, he whipped the cane down sharply across the tops of Erika’s breasts. “I’ve got two more gents ‘ere ‘oo are waiting to make yer acquaintance!”
Her breasts and thighs on fire, Erika was still struggling to her feet just as General Wang strode angrily back toward them. The dark glower on his face made it clear that her tribulations en route to the general’s stronghold were unlikely to be abated any time soon. In the best of moods, the general was a man to be greatly feared. In a foul mood, as he was at this moment, her predicament would be even worse than before. Nor were the shadows of suppressed rage darkening Lieutenant Meng’s face bode well for her future.
“To the castle!” the General barked. “I have many matters to deal with.” As he said those words, the general’s fierce gaze fell on Erika. She tried to keep her nearly nude body from trembling uncontrollably but with little success.
At a nod from the general Deng-shan stepped forward again and secured the reins of the chariot to the bamboo yoke to which Erika’s arms and shoulders were bound. Meanwhile the warlord had climbed into the chariot and opened a vertical cupboard in its inner wall and, after fumbling for a moment, removed a light, flexible coachwhip. When Deng gave the general the signal that the reins were securely fastened, the general gave Erika a stinging lash across her bare buttocks and snarled, “Let’s go. And put your back into it, wench!”
When Erika failed to move at once the general struck her rounded backside with a pair of lightning fast whip strokes before realizing that his captive’s ankles were still bound. Tiger quickly stepped forward to remedy that situation, and then set off up the hill, as did Cho, whose hand was still wrapped in his blood-soaked sleeve.
Trying to put her pain and fatigue behind her, Erika gathered herself and took a step forward, towing the chariot and its whip-wielding passenger in her wake. After a few steps she concluded that the load was heavy, but manageable, on level ground. But she could see that the ground only remained level for about fifty yards, before it began gradually sloping upward.
“Stop dawdling, slut!” Jasper Slegg barked, whipping his cane sharply across her bare thighs, finding the mark left by one of his earlier cane-strokes, and opening a slender cut. “The boys are ‘avin’ a little party with the local girls up there, and I don’t want to miss out on the fun!”
Grimacing in pain, Erika tried not to think about the incline or the distance before her, concentrating rather on simply putting one bare foot in front of the other. But, encumbered by her heavy burden under the stern gaze of the midday sun, she had not taken thirty paces before sweat was once again pouring down her brow and face. And with her arms and hands tightly bound to the yoke, she was unable even to wipe the perspiration away, and it was not long before she was almost blinded by her own sweat. Time and again she paused to shake her head from side to side in an attempt to disperse the streamlets of sweat, and each time the stern-jawed general dealt with her dilatory pace by flicking her shapely bottomcheeks with the carriage whip. By the time she had taken a hundred steps, a sea of sweat had all but washed Cho’s blood from her luscious breasts, leaving only her own thorn wounds to produce beads of crimson from time to time.
General Wang, of course, was more than delighted by the view from the chariot. Erika’s every stride tightened the muscles in her lithe thighs and her eminently whippable buttocks , naked save for the dark strap drawn so tightly between them. As he watched the play of her gluteal muscles, the warlord congratulated himself once again on his new possession. The afternoon journey up the hill would teach the German beauty obedience; in the evening she would begin to learn the meaning of discipline. The warlord flicked Erika with the whip again, for no particular reason, as a malicious smile crossed his face. For tonight the discipline would be very harsh indeed….
Her head down, the muscles in her calves and thighs straining with her every stride, Erika forged onward up the steep hill. It was not long before it became clear that the general’s castle, which had seemed like only a mile or so away when she had begun her uphill trek, was perhaps half again as far away. Its great grim façade had caused her to misjudge the distance.
As she trudged upward, Erika did her best to focus her mind on simply placing one foot in front of the other. But it was impossible to keep fearful thoughts from haunting her. Since being overtaken in the woods by Meng and his men, the indignities visited upon her had been improvised and almost incidental to her capture, yet even so they had been almost unrelenting. Her stomach twisted itself into knots as she tried not to think of what barbaric cruelties awaited her.
She cast her glance upward again at the forbidding fortress overlooking the island. There were dungeons in that grim castle, surely, dungeons where degradation was de rigueur, and despair was inevitable. It had not been so long ago that George Chan had delighted in regaling her with horrifying tales of beautiful young women who had earned the displeasure of his brother Richard and had found themselves imprisoned in the deepest darkest corners of the Black Pagoda. How the Scorpions had raped and tortured the tender bodies of raven-haired beauties in dungeons where night was endless, where the only illumination was flickering torchlight, and the faint glow of coals sizzling in braziers. Where the only sounds to be heard were the crack of the lash, the desperate high-pitched cries of suffering young women, and the deep, pleasurable grunts of the men who abused them in every way imaginable.
Erika shuddered in horror. Was confinement in such dungeons to be her fate? Or would General Wang instead make her his sexual plaything, a delicious delicacy to be shared with high-ranking confederates or lowly minions as the whim struck him? Would she be forced to pleasure five, ten, fifteen men a day, men like the filthy scum who had ogled her naked breasts while Slegg had delivered those withering cane-strokes to her bare thighs? An endless routine of pain and suffering or a regimen of sexual slavery and humiliation? She did not know which fate she feared the most.
CRACKKK!! As the general’s whip seared her naked buttocks again, Erika’s mood sank to into the abyss as she realized that, in all likelihood, both suffering and subjugation awaited her in the castle on the hill.
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Erika’s semi-nude body. gleaming with the perspiration of intense physical labor, provided a visual treat for the rag-tag band of soldiers escorting her. Some trailed behind so that they could enjoy the delicious play of her buttocks, especially when those shapely demi-moons reacted to the sting of the general’s whip. Some of the men marched alongside where they got a wonderful view of Erika’s long, shapely legs and flanks, naked save for the dark brown straps above and below her breasts, and the constricting leather waistband. Others trudged ahead in front of her, along with Jasper Slegg and Wu, taking every opportunity to glance backward to ogle her opulent lust melons, which spilled so enticingly out of the confining straps.
Erika did her best to ignore their salacious leers and their ribald remarks, but it was far from easy.
“What a pair of tits!” one enthused. “I wouldn’t mind licking the blood off of them, Wu!”
“I’d like to make ‘em sweat a bit more first!” Wu exclaimed, forming a big fist with his uninjured hand. And when I was done working those beauties over, I wouldn’t mind chewing on those pretty nipples for a while, either!”
Whether it was the undisguised malice in Wu’s voice that interfered with Erika’s determined efforts to keep putting one foot before the other, or whether she simply lost her footing is uncertain. But what was certain is that as soon as she went down on one knee, General Wang began flicking her shoulderblades with the coach whip while Jasper Slegg went after the leg that had given out, lashing out at Erika’s creamy thigh.
THWICKK! THWICKK!! THWICKKK!!
“Get up! ‘Get up’, I said!”
Three times Slegg’s cane bit deep into her thigh-flesh, before Erika, whose balance had been severely compromised by her yoke-bound arms, managed to right herself.
“I told you I was in a hurry, wench!” Slegg snarled as he swung again, this time aiming for his favorite targets, Erika’s luscious breasts.
Erika tried desperately to turn away from the sadistic first mate, but the yoke hampered her movements and …
THHWIICKKKK!!! Slegg’s cane-stroke found its fleshy targets, biting into Erika’s jutting pain-melons no more than a hair’s-breadth below her taut nipples, atomizing the rivulets of perspiration that had been moistly caressing her perfect breasts.
“AIAGHHH!!” Erika cried out, staggering under the force of the blow and just managing to maintain her precarious balance.
The general’s soldiers looked on, mesmerized by the sight of this golden-haired prisoner being subjugated so cruelly, each man hoping that he, too, might get a chance to assist in the punishment, if not the ravishment, of such a lovely creature.
“Move on!” the general barked in clipped tones, as he flicked Erika’s shapely buttocks yet again. “I haven’t got all day!”
With a tremendous effort, Erika continued onward, the quadriceps muscles in her thighs, already burning from her exertions, now also suffering from the sting of Slegg’s cane strokes. With Erika’s every anguished stride the grade seemed to grow steeper, the sun to grow hotter. And with every stride, she bore not only the weight of the general and his chariot, but the unholy lusts of the men who watched her labor under the blazing sun.
Erika lurched onward, under the watchful and lascivious gaze of her captors, her lips becoming drier, and her throat becoming more parched with every step. Her thirst was maddening, but fearful of what the response might be, she put off asking for water until she was on the verge of collapse. She stopped in her tracks, staggering dizzily, utterly spent from her exertions, and then hesitantly whispered, almost under her breath, “Wasser… wasser.”
Jasper Slegg, who had been whittling one end of his bamboo cane to a sharp point as the procession of pain had made its way up the hill, grinned at her evilly. “What’s that? I couldn’t quite make that out, princess.”
Erika was nearly certain that there would be a price to be paid, but she could not help herself. “Wasser … water … bitte …bitte…”
“Oh! It’s water ye said, is it, princess?” Slegg rasped. “That’s not a bad idea. Well, I’m sure one of the lads ‘ere ‘as a canteen. How about it, boy?”
Taking a canteen proffered by the scrawny soldier with the matted hair, Slegg took a long pull from it, allowing water to stream out of the corners of his mouth as Erika, eyeing the wasted droplets, licked her dry lips enviously.
“That was a good idea, princess,” Slegg went on. “I didn’t realize I was so thirsty.”
“Bitte… please…” Part of Erika hated herself for abasing herself before this dreadful man, but what was she to do?
“What’s that? Oh, *you* wanted some water, too, is it? Well, let’s see what we can do about that, princess.”
With those words, Slegg approached the bare-breasted beast of burden. “Open yer mouth, frowlein. Let’s see that pretty pink tongue. These lads like a girl with a pretty tongue, I’ll bet!”
As the soldiers guffawed, Erika did as she was bidden. Quaking with fear, she parted her dry lips and extended her tongue.
“How d’ye like that, boys? How’d ye like to have that lickin’ the sweat off yer bollocks?”
Slegg lifted the canteen until it was at the height of Erika’s head and slowly tilted the canteen upward so that a few drops of water drizzled down onto the tip of Erika’s tongue.
Erika lapped them up eagerly. “More … please…”
“No problem, frowlein. No problem at all… D’ye think a nice bloke like me would disappoint a damsel in distress?”
The sadistic first mate upturned the canteen again, holding it in his left hand as he moved it from side to side so, so that Erika’s pretty tongue was forced to dart left and right in hopes of catching the trickle of falling liquid. As she did so, Slegg poked her repeatedly in the belly with the newly-sharpened end of his cane, making it all but impossible for her to ingest any of the water.
“Ye’re too slow, ye lazy bitch!” Slegg jeered as Erika’s mostly futile attempts to catch the water in her mouth. “Here I am, pouring you a nice drink and ye’re wasting most of it!” Slegg continued pouring the water as Erika’s dry lips and tongue moved back and forth in pursuit of the slow stream of water, but most of it eluded her and spilled downward onto her naked breasts. She looked down at the well-watered tops of her breasts dolefully.
“If the whore wants a drink, I’ve got a bladderfull of piss she can have!” the burly soldier bellowed, drawing chuckles of laughter from his comrades. “But only if she sucks me off, first!” he roared, eliciting another round of ribald sniggering. “No sense wasting good piss on a whore who isn’t willing to suck a man’s cock!”
“Ah, don’t ye worry, Missy,” Slegg rasped, discarding the empty canteen. “I’ll fix ye up.” The first mate approached her and rubbed his weathered hands all over Erika’s freshly moistened man-pleasers. When his hands were wet with a mixture of water and perspiration, seasoned with just a hint of breast-blood, Slegg ran the front and back of each hand across Erika’s mouth. “Lick it, whore! You said you wanted water and ‘ere it is!”
Erika hated herself for doing it, but even sweat-water was better than none at all. Death was dark and endless; in survival there was always hope. She forced herself to lick Slegg’s dirty hands, front and back.
“She’s got a pretty mouth, don’t she, yer lordship?” Slegg jeered. “And a sweet little tongue.”
The warlord’s minions chuckled again at Slegg’s lewd joke, each of them imagining the golden-haired goddess on her knees before them worshiping their throbbing cocks and swollen testicles.
“Ye didn’t seem to do to well with the water, frowlein. But maybe we could do better with some wine. ‘and me that bottle mate.”
One of the soldiers produced a bottle of rice wine that was protruding from his kit, and after receiving an affirmative nod from the general, offered it to Slegg. The general didn’t know what Slegg had in mind, but he knew that Erika would not enjoy it, and that was recompense enough for him.
“Thanks, matey. I’ll see that ye don’t regret it,” Slegg mumbled as he opened the bottle. “Come over ‘ere, lad,” he motioned to the pig-tailed soldier who had offered him the wine. “I’m going to pour it over ‘er juicy tits, just like I did the water. ‘elp yerself.”
And with that, Slegg began slowly drizzling the wine back and forth, putatively offering his parched victim a chance to catch some of the wine in her mouth, but being cruelly careful to keep most of the wine just out of reach of her mouth, thereby anointing Erika’s luscious pleasure-globes like a chef oiling a wok.
At first the soldier didn’t understand what was expected of him, but Slegg stopped pouring for a moment and caught his arm and pulled him forward until his face was only inches from Erika’s wine-christened breasts. “Go to it, boy! ‘ave a drink on me. Or rather, on ‘er”, he joked crudely.”
The skinny, pig-tailed soldier pressed his mouth against Erika’s left breast and began slurping at the wine that had Slegg had spilled there.
“Suck it, up, lad!” Slegg barked amusedly, as the soldier’s mouth moved greedily over Erika’s swollen mounds. “ ‘ere, ‘ave some more,” he muttered as he upturned the bottle again.
The other soldiers looked on enviously as their young comrade dropped his weapon to free his hands so that he could cup Erika’s magnificent breasts as he lapped at them like eagerly, his lips and tongue moving back and forth over her slick tit-flesh.
“Ah, ye’re missing too much!” Slegg barked as he saw that the soldier was, not surprisingly, more interested in mouth-worshiping Erika’s glorious breasts than in catching all the wine he was splashing down on them. Looking around, he snapped, “ ‘ey, you! Yeah, you, the one with the big nose! Get in there and ‘elp ‘im out.”
Erika flushed with humiliation as a second soldier, fat and foul of breath, stepped forward to lap the wine off her right breast, while the first man devoted his oral attentions to her left lust-melon.
“Suck those juicy tits, boys!” Slegg exhorted the two men. And then, under his breath, “But go easy on the biting. ‘is lordship might not like it.”
“All right, lads, give some of the others a chance,” Slegg exclaimed after he had spilled about half of the wine in the bottle onto Erika’s slippery globes. He waved another soldier forward, a tall, cold-eyed man with close-cropped hair and a four-day stubble of beard.
The new arrival was not as gentle as his comrades had been. While Slegg continued pouring, he placed his big hands of the outer slopes of Erika’s defenseless breasts and mashed them together forcefully as he slurped at the drizzling wine. Erika gasped in pain as she felt the metal studs on the rings of her slave-garment gouge more deeply into her tender breast-flesh. Seeing her discomfort, her tormentor took a breast in each hand and pressed them inward brutally, even as his rapacious mouth slid back and forth between her breasts, sucking her nipples until they stood out firm and proud. Then, still slobbering at her wine-moistened breasts, he took Erika’s pink nuggets between the thumb and third finger of each hand and ground them between his fingertips until the German beauty was gasping with pain.
When Slegg had finally poured the last drops of the bottle onto Erika’s tender breasts, the general impatiently barked, “Enough!” and the soldier sullenly released his death-grip on Erika’s lust- nuggets.
Erika stood before them resignedly, her tongue still searching around her mouth for stray droplets of moisture until the CRACCKKK! of the general’s whip across her backside set her in motion once again.
Jasper Slegg waited until Erika had taken three or four more arduous steps up the hill, before the sight of her big, wine-slick breasts and her aroused nipples got the best of him. Taking up a position just ahead of her on the right, he hefted the whippy cane and swept it forward viciously.
THWICKKKK!!!
The force of the blow found the tender tips of Erika’s opulent breasts.
“Aghhhhhh!” she cried, staggering backward slightly, fighting desperately to stay on her feet, because she knew that falling would only result in more punishment, more brutality. But it was so hard. Her delicate nipples felt as if they had been split open.
“Get a move on, frowlein!” Slegg barked. “Pick up the bloody pace. ‘is lordship ‘asn’t got all day!”
Just to echo Slegg’s point, the general lashed out with the coach whip yet again, skilfully finding the summits of Erika’s rounded buttocks.
Somehow Erika managed to regain her balance and stagger forward yet again, exhausted and bathed in perspiration. For perhaps the twentieth time since her cruel trek had begun, Erika paused to try to wipe the sweat from her brow by pressing her face against her shoulder, but Deng-shan had done his work well, and, despite all of her exertions, her shoulders and arms were bound as tightly to the bamboo yoke now as they had been when she had taken her first difficult step, and all she managed to do was brush her sweat-drenched hair back and forth over her rounded her shoulders.
Her momentary hesitation quickly earned her yet another lash, but this time the general’s whip made a loud CRACCKK!! when it found her hip rather than the gentle pop the coach whip had made..
“Aghhh!” she gasped in pain, and turned her head in time to see that the general had now armed himself with a six-foot leather dogwhip, which had apparently been stashed in the little cupboard along with the coach whip.
Erika’s momentary pause earned her another stroke, this one raking the tempting dimple at the apex of her buttock cleft. Wincing in pain, the statuesque blonde summoned her strength and struggled onward up the steep hill that led to the forbidding castle overlooking the island.
It was then that she heard the first cry of pain ahead of her and to her right.
She was less than a kilometer from the castle itself now but she was only a few yards from the first of a long row of shabby-looking wooden structures that lined the right side of the rutted path. In front of her she recognized crewmen from the Yang-tze Dragon and several more unkempt armed men whose uniforms indicated that they, too, were soldiers in General Wang’s private army, moving in and out of the various structures. Empty bottles that had once contained rice wine were strewn far and wide, and indication that the crewmen had already begun what would prove to be an epic day and night of debauchery.
After a dozen more back-breaking strides and two more cracks of the whip across her bare shoulders, Erika finally pulled abreast of the first barn-like structure. Glancing inside, she blanched at what she saw: no fewer than three of the Malayan crewmen, a woman’s shredded garments scattered amongst the straw and a naked young woman bound in an agonizing position.
The shapely Chinese girl was lying on her back on theround with her wrists tied tightly to stakes alongside where her hips would normally have been. But her hips, or rather her legs, weren’t there. The Malayans had bent the poor girl’s legs so far backward that her knees kissed the floor of the barn on either side of her face; her bare feet were securely lashed to stakes that had been pounded into the ground well behind her head. Grimacing in pain, the flexible young beauty was not only staked out in an excruciating position, she was completely at the mercy of the men who had bound her so cruelly. Crouching above her defenseless body, Umar was thrusting his massive cock downward deep into her vagina, which had already been desecrated by the manly secretions of Mahlik and Rahim. The latter two Malayans were standing on opposite sides of the girl’s head, drinking from bottles of rice wine, letting their spent spears drip their last few drops of semen onto her pretty face, while cheering their comrade on.
From behind her Erika could hear General Wang growl, “Next year, perhaps her thieving father will pay his taxes on time!”
The stern visaged warlord flicked Erika’s nearly nude buttocks with his whip. “Move along! Let us see what the rest of your shipmates are up to!”
It was only after Erika had taken another step or too, that she realized that a second erotic vignette was under way in the next barn. A lovely young woman with long ebony hair was suspended from a rafter by a cocoon of ropes and chains. Her body was perpendicular to the ground, her torso perhaps a foot above the straw-strewn floor of the barn. She hung face downward, her arms bound fiendishly tightly behind her back, her calves lashed securely to her thighs, in what was obviously the work of Deng-shan. A trinity of thick hawsers, secured to a stout rafter overhead, were connected to a chokingly tight leather collar around her neck, her pinioned arms, and an anchor-shaped metal implement that was wedged deep in her anus. The web of ropes lifted her pelvis so that it and her hair were the highest parts of her golden-toned body from which her perfectly-shaped breasts hung, ripe and pendulous. Behind her, Erika could hear the general take a deep breath, so inviting were the sinuous curves of the woman’s body in her cruel bondage.
But the bondage was only half of her problem. Lying beneath her, his crotch only inches from her pretty face, Orang lie naked, his monstrous cock, the largest Erika had ever seen, thick-veined and ruddy.
“Suck it, whore,” the muscular Malayan growled as he grasped the Chinese beauty by her dark tresses and pulled her mouth down toward his pulsing cock. It was all the young woman could do to accept his mighty girth into her mouth, but Orang, of course, was hardly content with such a half-hearted oral caress.
He slapped the pendant beauty hard across the face.
“Suck it! Choke on it!” he muttered again. Then pulling harder on her hair with both hands, he forced her to swallow more and more of his prodigious horse-cock, and then, still using only her hair, he got her suspended body swinging back and forth like a pendulum, impaling her mouth deeper and deeper on his swollen manhood, even as the fiendishly tight collar around her neck, tightened with every swing….
After the general had watched this abusive encounter for a minute or two, he flicked the dogwhip at Erika’s buttocks, the signal for her to trudge forward again.
Her thighs and shoulders burning, Erika saw a handful of the ship’s crewmen streaming out of the little buildings to watch her painful passage, along with a number of soldiers she had not yet seen.
“By the gods, she looks even better on dry land than she did on the ship!” one of the Chinese crewmen muttered, as he squinted in the sunlight at Erika’s nearly nude body staggering under her burden. “What about it, Sleggie? Are we goin’ to get a crack at her?” he muttered in a low voice so that the General couldn’t hear him.
“It’s not up to me, you greedy bastard,” Slegg replied. “Besides, ye’ve got a dozen women to do with as ye like in those barns. Why don’t you forget about this one?”
“Aye, I’ll have some fun with them,” the sailor said. “But I’d trade ‘em all for an hour with her,” he muttered, gesturing toward the golden-haired Nordic goddess whose superb, sweat-sheened breasts spilled so obscenely out of the skimpy leather harness.
************
Not only was it difficult to pull the chariot uphill, it was taxing just to keep it at rest on an uphill slope. Erika was already on the verge of exhaustion but the dark castle was still several hundred yards away, and the path was growing ever steeper. The sun was still beating down mercilessly, and Erika’s nearly nude body was slick with sweat as she drove her aching body a few more yards up the incline toward the third barn. When she lost her footing at one point, she felt the general’s whip wrapping around her breast stinging her nipple yet again.
The scene in the third barn was no less grisly than its predecessors. A naked young woman was spread-eagled, face up, across three hay bales that had been drawn close together, her hands and feet lashed to stakes that her tormentors had driven into the ground. Standing above her at one end of the hay bales and facing her feet, Mongkut was pumping his long, thick cock into her open mouth. At the other end of the hay bales, the squat behemoth the seamen called ‘Buddha,’ standing with his leggings around his ankles, was driving his man-weapon into the pleasure slit of the girl lying on the bales. Meanwhile, Tan, the whore-monger who had longed to try his hand again at breast-whipping ever since he had flogged the Surayaban beauty at the Batavian brothel, had doubled up a length of rope and was lashing the beleaguered Chinese beauty across her pert breasts, targeting her chocolate-drop nipples.
THWACKK! THWACKK!! THWACCKK!!
Erika watched in horror as the rope-whip slammed into the girl’s defenseless lust-mounds again and again even as Mongkut, the well-endowed Thai, face-fucked her vigorously and the grossly obese ‘Buddha’ forced his massive weapon into her virginal nether opening. Erika looked away, revulsed. The sight of that gargantuan beast raping a defenseless young woman only one-third his size turned her stomach.
“Move on!” the general snapped impatiently, slashing his dog whip across Erika’s shapely buttocks.
As Erika strained to pull the rickshaw forward, General Wang observed, “You understand, fraulein, that it is you that are responsible for the rapacity of these men. It is your beauty – and especially the punishments meted out to you - that has raised their lust to a fever pitch.”
Erika winced at the suggestion that she was in any way responsible for the bestial behavior she was witnessing. But in a way the general was right. On board the Yangtze Dragon these men had spent a day or two feasting their eyes on Erika’s voluptuous beauty, relishing every moment of the seemingly endless torments she had suffered, storing up their prodigious lusts. And now those pent up appetites and frustrations were being unleashed on the innocent young maidens of Zhou-shan island.
Erika looked forlornly toward the castle and the long row of barns and cabins lining the right side all along the hilly road. From those dilapidated structures she could hear cries of pain, and the crude laughter and sadistic exhortations of brutal men.
What other horrors , she wondered, lay in store for her along the arduous path to the forbidding castle on the hill?