Chapter 75 Stripped for Torture
"Hey, Boss! How about we get rid of this?" Dao fingered Ming-tsu's
delicate black chemise. "I don't think she'll be needing it anymore," the thug
chuckled as he slid his hand inside the waistband of his silken-haired
prisoner's panties and groped between her thighs, while Ming-tsu writhed n
revulsion and gave the gaptoothed thug a look of withering contempt. The front
of her wispy undergarment was threadbare indeed now, having been nearly shredded
when Lin had driven her painfully into the ground and during her ensuing
struggles to escape his rapacious grasp.
"No, let's clean our beautiful guest up, first. Lin! Ox ! fetch some
water."
As the Scorpions hurriedly scurried away, Dao stepped up behind Ming-tsu
and pressed his virile body against the taut, tremulous body of the beautiful,
bound concubine. Ming-tsu felt his massive cockstaff pressing firmly into the
silk-covered groove that separated her sumptuous buttocks. Gaptooth seemed to
enjoy this embrace de frottage immensely as he ground his body against hers.
But for Ming-tsu it was humiliating in the extreme.
********
George Chan, that fancier of French wine, French lingerie and French sexual
techniques, had explained to Ming-tsu once that the French had taken a term for
a minor art form -- frottage, the act of rubbing a crayon over a piece of paper
that had been placed over a highly textured object, like a leaf or a headstone
-- and applied it to a sexual practice: the act of clandestinely rubbing one's
sexual organs against another for the purposes of sexual gratification.
Dao, of course, knew nothing of frottage, nor of France, nor of art, but
the hulking thug knew that sliding even a cloth-covered aroused male organ
against a woman's tender love-slit, or into the inviting valley between her
deep-clefted buttocks was perhaps the most pleasurable thing a man could do with
his clothes on. He pressed his aroused body even more closely against
Ming-tsu's firm-fleshed derriere, as he slid his throbbing cock through her
butt-crack until he thought he was going to explode before pulling away, primed
and ready. What an afternoon this promised to be!
Ming-tsu grimaced in disgust, as she felt Dao's fleshy weapon press hard
against her secret places. Then she winced in pain as her tormentor's grasping
hands found their way under her chemise once again, lifting it upwards so that
he could paw her splendid breasts, kneading the warm, fleshy globes roughly
between his clutching fingers. "Mmm... Nice tits! Nice fucking tits!" the
homely thug muttered under his breath through clenched teeth. "You're gonna pay
for those stunts with the torch, girl," Dao growled sadistically as he clawed at
Ming-tsu's tender nipples. "And us Scorpions know just how to make you pay!" he
snarled, as he gave her opulent tits a final vicious wrench as Lin and Zheng
returned, each carrying a metal pail of water.
"Is it cold?" Chiang Chan asked, indicating the two containers.
When Lin nodded in the affirmative, Chiang smiled, "Good." Then the
dark-eyed squadron leader gestured with his hand. Lin nodded and struggled to
lift the heavy bucket up to chest height before righting himself and throwing
half of his four-gallon bucket of water into Ming-tsu's beautiful face.
Ming-tsu's body jerked in shock as the cold water struck her squarely in
the face and shoulders, but in a small way she was grateful that the forceful
shower had at least washed away the muck and the clinging cobwebs from her
features. On the other hand the coldness of the water was like an electric
shock to the tips of her breasts, which pressed against the flimsy silken top
with shameless audacity.
Ming-tsu shook her newly drenched face and hair from side to side. Far
below her she could hear the water running into the drain, and then dripping
down, down, down, before making a faraway sound not unlike raindrops falling on
a distant lake. Was there an underground cave beneath the Black Pagoda?
Chiang Chan turned and gestured to Dao, and the other three Scorpions
watched with undisguised lust as their gaptoothed comrade's horny hands slid up
Ming-tsu's arms and came to rest on the thin straps of her chemise. Dao decided
to torment his aroused comrades by drawing out the stripping of the lovely
concubine for as long as possible. Moving at a snail's pace, he proceeded to
inch the slender straps of the flimsy garment down over Ming-tsu's rounded
shoulders.
"Oh, yeah," The Drooler cheered the falling straps, as each pleasurable,
slowly-passing second brought more and more of Ming-tsu's delicious cleavage
into plain view. The livid red marks that Chiang Chan's whip had left on her
honeyed mounds seemed to glow in the flickering torchlight. "Let's see some
more! Look at those fucking tits, Ox!"
The deep, bestial sound that came from Zheng's mouth was more animal than
human; despite her best efforts not to display any signs of fear to her
verminous tormentors, Ming-tsu felt wave after wave of cold, unreasoning panic
sweep over her body, causing it to tremble uncontrollably.
"You pigs! One George Chan learns that I am innocent, you will rue this
day!"
"You haven't been innocent since you were twelve, whore!" Dao snarled.
Ming-tsu's ill-featured valet had an evil leer on his face as he slowly,
teasingly, eased the filmy bodice of the chemise down over Ming-tsu's luscious,
slightly damp, mahogany-tipped love-turrets. When her swollen nipples popped
into view, as dark and as rich as chips of chocolate, Lin elbowed the Ox, "Oh,
shit!! Look at those fucking nips, big guy." The Drooler wiped the back of his
hand across his foaming mouth before addressing the defiant concubine. "Oh,
baby! We're gonna have some fun with those!"
When Dao had lowered her top until the chemise was little more than a rope
around her waist, Chiang signaled to Lin. Dao was forced to step back quickly
as the excited teenager blasted Ming-tsu's nude, honey-gold, lust-melons with
the rest of the water in his pail.
There was something magical about a wet, naked woman, Chiang Chan thought
as he studied the way the droplets of water clung lovingly to Ming-tsu's curves.
By some optical illusion, the watery dousing seemed to have drawn her already
close-set breasts even more closely together, into two luscious, dripping
spheres of girl-flesh. The cold water gave her love-nipples a delicious pucker;
the well-chilled, reddish-brown nuggets seemed to surge provocatively toward her
tormentors in the glimmering torch-light.
The Ox elbowed his young sidekick delightedly; Lin merely stared at
Ming-tsu's stiff-nippled treasures in awe-struck silence, his prick an iron
girder pressing against his dark trousers. Ci-ci and Peony had surely been very
pretty girls with lovely figures, but Ming-tsu ... she was one in a million, a
goddess of carnal delight.
A dripping, golden-hued, dark-nippled, demi-goddess of desire who dangled
helplessly, all but naked, from a sinister hook in the dungeon of the Black
Pagoda. What could they not do to her luscious body? What perverse lusts, what
barbaric cruelties, what blasphemous outrages could he and his comrades not
perform on this divine princess who was totally at their mercy in Richard Chan's
underground Temple of Torture?
