Chapter 39 Soft skin, Hard Labor and Burning Buttocks
Chapter 39 Soft skin, Hard Labor and Burning Buttocks
When Chiang at last pulled Ci-ci's head up, Dao could see that a few more
tiny but no doubt irritating thistle spines were lodged in her breasts. Three
fresh pin-pricks of claret attested to the sharpness of the tiny thorns.
Chiang Chan moved to her side, and Ci-ci felt his strong hand slide under
the cocoon of ropes that pinned her wrists to her ankles. Moments later she
felt that masculine hand slide along the back of her leg, beginning at
mid-thigh, and then inching higher, exploring her soft flesh as he did so.
And remarkably soft it was; had not the The Master of the Black Pagoda
himself had been enthralled by the the softness of her skin? Particularly the
silky-smooth flesh of her bottom. The Lord of the Scorpions had loved to cup
those infant-soft cheeks in his hands as he reclined beneath her, while she
bounced with all the unflagging energy of youth on his thrusting pole of
man-flesh. Richard Chan had confided to his brother more than once that he
viewed Ci-ci as a remarkable synthesis of the ages of feminine beauty. The
sensuous baby-soft skin, the pleasingly girlish face framed by a comely pair of
dark nymphet-like pigtails, and her ever-maturing body, which had seemed to
blossom at his every touch during the months that he had bedded her. At each
meeting her breasts seemed to have grown bolder, her hips fuller, her inviting
labia more pronounced.
The elder Chan had loved to spank her soft bottom, smacking her resilient
cheeks -- so round and firm and well-muscled under their deliciously soft layer
of girlish skin -- until they were blushingly pink. The spankings were not
really painful to Ci-ci; in fact at times they were almost pleasurable, in that
they sensitized the numberless nerve-endings of her pelvic area. Richard Chan's
enthusiastic but not unduly painful spankings had given her no inkling of her
master's true nature.
Chiang Chan continued to grope the ripe buttock curves, and then he slid
his fingers into the cleft of desire between them, testing the tight ring of her
anus briefly before sliding downward to the portals of her feminity. He could
feel the envious eyes of his men on him as he stroked her love-nook, and then
guiltily decided that it might be best if he were to begin sharing his carnal
pleasures with his comrades
"Boys, our pleasure-girl has been cooped up inside all night. I think she
needs some some exercise and some fresh air; what do you say, lads?"
"Aye! and a bath, too," exclaimed Dao. His greedy eyes devoured Ci-ci's
nubile curves. When he had first seen her at the Black Pagoda a year or so
earlier, she had been a pretty, but rather shapeless fifteen-year old. But she
had developed very nicely indeed in the intervening year. She still wore her
hair in those twin pigtails that, combined with the marvelous softness of her
skin, gave her the appearance of a girl younger than she was. But her body gave
the lie to that delightfully pubescent face. Her breasts, though at her young
age perhaps not quite fully mature, were already of a ripe-nippled lushness that
would have teased the eye, stirred the red blood, and inflamed the manhood of
any man; and her hips were now the hips of a woman, no longer those of a girl.
"And that she shall have, my friend. A nice ... hot ... bath."
A bath sounded exquisite to the beleaguered Ci-ci; the sweat and stink and
spunk of a dozen men clung to her body like the foul miasma of the swampy
marshlands upriver. But there was something in the way the one who seemed to be
their leader had spoken those last few words that made her shiver.
"Untie the wench!" Chiang Chan ordered, and while the Ox foraged for a
fresh bottle of rice wine among the largely alcoholic stores of the barracks,
Lin and Dao set about liberating her from her agonizing captivity. She silently
thanked them for releasing her from her backbreaking bondage, even though their
four hands explored every intimate curve of her body as they freed it, stroking
her shapely thighs and delving rudely into the fleshy slit between them. The
manly hands fondled her buttock-cheeks roughly and they squeezed her
dark-nippled breasts so hard that tiny pearls of crimson formed at the edges of
two of the thistle-cuts.
When they had finished undoing her ropes, and stood her up, Ci-ci's legs,
their muscles weakened by an hour or more in the confining hog-tie, could barely
support her. Dao and Lin held her up as their eyes took in the deep indentations
the coarse ropes had left on her arms and legs.
"Very well. Now you shall prepare your bath," Chiang Chan ordered. "So
that the bath water can be heating while you ... take some exercise," he said
as he winked to his three comrades.
"First of all we will need to build a fire to heat the water," Chiang
announced, as he turned toward the far end of the building. "Bring her back to
the stove."
A grimy black stove stood at the rear of the Pit which the Scorpions used
for heat during the cold months and for cooking all year round. It was at this
very stove, in fact, that hot oil had splattered the bare breasts of the
Ceylonese sisters, Leana and Mahlua, while they cooked for their captors during
their month-long sojourn at the Scorpions' barracks. Chiang Chan ordered Lin to
start a fire, but there was only a tiny bit of coal in the stove; clearly more
would be needed to heat any amount of bathwater.
While Lin set about igniting the fire, and the Ox passed the newly-opened
wine bottle around, the others marched the weak-legged girl toward the back of
the building. When they arrived there, Chiang Chan ordered her to take the
large shovel that was propped against the wall and use it to carry shovelsful of
coal from the black mound in one corner of the room over to the nearby stove.
Ci-ci had begun that endless day and night a strong and healthy girl, but
by now her strength had largely been spent. She began by lifting the heavy
shovel and shoving it weakly into the great mound of coal.
"No! Fill the shovel full, you lazy wench!" directed Dao, when the naked
girl turned to carry the first partial shovelful across the room.
Disconsolate, Ci-ci turned back toward the great black pile, and used her
bare left foot, as she had seen ditch-diggers do, to force the blade of the
shovel more deeply into the coal. She filled the capacious bowl of the shovel
to overflowing and then, staggering under the awkward weight, started to cross
the short distance toward the stove.
Chiang Chan nudged Dao with his elbow to get his attention. "See that you
don't spill any, girl! You'll get a lash for each lump you drop!"
Chiang Chan's loud order itself startled the coal-carrying maiden, and her
sudden movement caused two ebony lumps to teeter briefly on the brink of the
shovel before falling to the floor. After Ci-ci had dumped the shovelful into
the stove's coal hopper, she started back toward the coalpile hoping that no one
had noticed her error.
"Are you trying to escape your just punishment, wench?"
"N-n-no. I just..."
"Lean the tip of the shovel against the mound of coal."
Still holding onto the handle of the shovel, Ci-ci did so, turning the
shovel over, so that the tip of its tapering blade seemed to be wedged securely
in the black pile.
"Now, holding on to the handle, and using the tip of the shovel to support
your weight, move your feet back."
Holding on to the tip of the shovel handle, Ci-ci's feet inched backward
away from the pile.
"More!"
Ci-ci backed up a little more, and when Chiang yelled at her yet again,
still more. She quickly came to realize that as she moved her feet further and
further away from the mound in which the shovel was buried at a forty-five
degree angle, her upper body was forced to bend more and more from the waist.
"More!" the imperious voice bellowed again. "And you are only to hold on
to the end of the handle."
When she could back up no more, without letting go of the spade handle or
pulling it out of the coal-pile, she realized that her forward-leaning posture
had positioned her shapely bottom perfectly for whatever nefarious pleasures the
Scorpions had in mind.
"Look at that ass!" the Ox exulted. But he wasn't the only one aroused.
All four Scorpion cocks were standing at attention, saluting the rounded
perfection of Ci-ci's spankable bottom. At some point Ci-ci had managed to wipe
away the evidence of her earlier rapes. And now the fleshy lips of her prominent
labia beckoned to them, as did a few sparse tendrils of girlish pussy-hair.
But it was not just her pleasure nook that fascinated her captors. Each of
her assailants yearned to spread her deep, dark buttock groove, and place his
man-weapon at the tiny entrance to her tight-clenching rectal channel, and
force his cock into that resisting passage until it was in up to its testicular
hilt. Feng had claimed Ci-ci's fine young ass for his own, Dao remembered.
But Feng was no more. And Dao for one wouldn't mind being the first to make the
little wench squeal when she felt his rock-hard pole between her asscheeks.
"Look at it, nothing -- feel those cheeks!" Dao's big hands groped her
buttocks, squeezing the firmness of her bottom-ovals. And then there were more
hands, caressing, kneading, squeezing her derriere which was still warm and
tender from her cruel beating at the Black Pagoda. Ci-ci's shame was even
greater when licentious fingers probed between her legs, pawing intrusively at
her moist, pink pleasure-nook. The tell-tale giggle of the Drooler betrayed the
identity of the groping culprit.
"She dropped two lumps. Who'll go first?"
"I'll teach the slut to dirty our floor!" the Ox said gruffly, blithely
ignoring the fact that the slovenly domicile of the Scorpions was already strewn
with all sorts of debris; it had been weeks since the dingy barracks had been
cleaned by a woman's hand.
Zheng the Ox strode quickly over to his cot and removed a thick brown razor
strop from the small chest which held most of his belongings. Then he stripped
off the top of his Scorpion costume and threw the dark shirt on the cot.
Chiang Chan looked at the huge man in awe. The Ox's chest was massive and
hairy but it was Zheng's shoulders that were truly remarkable. Chiang
remembered the hunchbacked Professor Leung telling his class once that the
ancient Greeks believed that a giant, whom they called Atlas, had been condemned
by the gods to support the world on his shoulders. They had even named the
great ocean of the Europeans, the Atlantic, in his honor. Zheng the Ox was
truly a latter-day Atlas, with shoulders that seemed to have been carved from
the impenetrable rock of the Manchurian quarries. Tthe muscles in his arms, his
triceps and his biceps, were no less prodigious than those of his shoulders..
Chiang smiled to himself at the thought of the delicate body of their shapely
young captive being at the mercy of this weak-minded brute.
The human behemoth lumbered slowly back to where Ci-ci struggled to
maintain her awkward position, as his comrades enjoyed the provocative
oscillation of her derriere. Zheng let the dark strap play over Ci-ci's girlish
but shapely pleasure-cheeks briefly, acquainting her splendid lust-ovals with
the breadth and thickness of the leather that would soon be visiting them at
lightning speed.
The cool, emotionless voice of Chiang Chan was next to speak. "Ask him to
whip you, girl, as punishment for your carelessness."
"But I..."
Chiang Chan gave an almost imperceptible gesture and Zheng nodded. Dao
felt his balls tense with a primitive blood-lust as he watched Zheng's mighty
muscles grip the strop tighter. Then the giant gave a roar of exultation as he
unleashed a mighty CRAACCKK!!! ripping the strop into the very base of Ci-ci's
buttocks. "Aaaaggggghhh" Ci-ci cried out in pain. The force of the blow caused
the handle of the shovel to twist around in her hands and she lost her balance
and fell headlong into the coal pile.
"Aahh!" she exclaimed as she fell forward, and then a split-second later
she emitted a louder "Aaiiiiieh!" as she landed heavily on the base of the huge
pile of irregular black lumps.
"Up, wench!" It was the deep laconic voice of the Ox.
When she did not stir immediately from her prone position, CRAACKK!!
Zheng's strop burned into the backs of her legs as she lay miserably amid the
coal-pile. Her struggles to rise seemed only to bring an unending cascade of
the black mineral sliding down on her. "Up! Like you were!"
Ci-ci tried to pick herself up, biting her lip to fight back the pain. She
had tried to brace her fall with her hands, but the coal pile was loose and
amorphous, and her hands could not keep the entire front of her body from its
violent collision with the lumpy mass. When she had regained a kneeling
position, she looked down, half expecting to see herself covered in blood, but a
thin layer of coal dust obscured whatever abrasions there were.
"Get up, girl! And back in position." This time it was the voice of the
leader.
Ci-ci struggled painfully to her feet and once again lodged the blade of
the shovel as securely as she could into the coal-mound, and assumed her
infinitely vulnerable position.
"I will tell you once again. Ask my over-sized friend here to whip you,"
Chiang Chan repeated in an icy voice.
"Pl-pl-ease... whip me..." Ci-ci whimpered, "for dropping the coal."
"That's better. Zheng, why don't you oblige the young lady."
"Aye, boss." The burly Scorpion drew the strop back again. While it was a
fearful weapon indeed, as wide as Ci-ci's wrist, it looked like a toy in the
Ox's huge paw. Zheng's muscles bulged and the veins in his arms protruded,
attesting to the intensity of his effort as he swept the lash viciously in the
direction of Ci-ci's plump bottom rounds that were still smarting from the
whipping she had endured that afternoon at the Black Pagoda. The blow landed
with a fearful CRACKKK!!!
"AAAIIIIAAAH!!" Ci-ci felt as if her buttocks had been sliced by a
pirate's saber. The strop had left another broad red stripe across her bottom.
"Good one, Zheng! Look at her wiggle that ass!" It was the high-pitched
voice of the Drooler.
His words shamed her, but Ci-ci realized that they were not untrue. Her
buttocks had wriggled involuntarily in a futile effort to minimize the sting of
the strap. Her gyrations may not have soothed the burning in her bottom, but
they provided much enjoyment for her tormentors.
"Yeah, baby. Shake it for us!" It was the Drooler's excitable nasal tenor
voice again. The voice took a harder edge moment later. "Make her dance, Ox!"
"Ask for the next one, girl."
"Please ... mercy ... I have done noth..."
CRACCKK!! The strop burned into her baby-soft buttflesh again. "AAAGHH!!"
"They don't count, girl, unless you ask for them."
Utterly defeated, Ci-ci murmured, "Please ... whip me... for dropping the
coal."
The Ox paused, and his brow wrinkled, as if he were seeking to recall some
bit of ancient lore or contemplating some marvel of human imagination. Chiang
Chan watched the bare-chested giant smilingly -- so this is what it looked like
when the Ox 'thought'. Then it was if a dim light had turned on in the giant's
feeble brain, and he smiled a thick-lipped smile. "Call me 'sir', wench. And
ask me to whip you harder."
"For my carelessness," Chiang Chan added in a frosty voice.
"Please s-sir," the lovely young housemaid repeated as she choked back a
sob, knowing that it would do little good to protest, "w--whip me harder for my
carelessness."
"Much better!" Chiang Chan muttered cynically. The Ox studied Ci-ci's rosy
cheeks, so beautifully positioned for the lash, and then, biceps bulging, he
scorched the delicious concavity of her bottom with another violent CRAACKK!!!
"Aaaaiiiiieaaaaaaahhh!!
Dao felt his cock throb with renewed lust at the sight of the leather
embedding itself deep in the honey-gold flesh of Ci-ci's fuckable ass, before
her springy bottomflesh recoiled with the sensual resilience of youth.
Somehow Ci-ci had absorbed that horrible butt-cutting blow without losing
her balance again. But her relief was cut short quickly when she was ordered to
take up the spade again. For more trips to the coal bin, more too-heavy
shovelsful of the the dusty black mineral, and despite her best efforts, more
lumps of coal tumbling from the heaping shovel. By now, fed by the newly-added
coal, Lin's fire was beginning to burn briskly. As the temperature rose, and
Ci-ci toiled away, she began to perspire more and more heavily. Each time she
thrust the shovel into the great mound of coal, the black dust rose in a dark
cloud, some of it settling on and clinging to her sweat-sheened nakedness.
With each trip to the coal pile, more and more of the coal dust came to
settle on her body. Her captors did not fail to notice that her nether cheeks
were unusally alluring in that they were virtually the only part of her body
that was free from the clinging coal-dust. No sooner had the dust settled on her
ivory-gold bottom-globes than she was condemned to receive another
skin-cleansing lash or two for the lumps that had fallen from the shovel.
It took Ci-ci six trips to the coalpile to load the stove to Chiang-Chan's
autocratic satisfaction. During those trips an unlucky thirteen lumps of coal
fell from her shovel. And thirteen times Ci-ci was forced to entreat her
herculean tormentor to whip the soft curves of her burning bottom-globes even
harder than he had before. And the Ox was happy to oblige. Each crack of his
strap was more violent than the one preceding it and landed on blushingly pink
skin that was already aflame with pain.
When the fire in the stove was at last burning brightly, Chiang Chan spoke
again. The leader of the Scorpion squadron gave Dao a quick wink. "Now that
the fire is well-started, girl, you will need to fetch the water," he ordered."
Chiang Chan pushed Ci-ci in the direction of the door, as each of the
Scorpions drank in the sight of their pleasure-girl's bottom, and the wide red
stripes that spanned the deep groove that separated her burning buttocks.
