Chapter 83 The Nipple Bondage of Chah-lin
Within seconds, Ming-tsu had been positioned between the two pillars,
which, like the walls of Richard Chan's dungeon, were encrusted with bolts and
rings and manacles of every description. Centered between the pillars, whose
facing surfaces were perhaps five feet apart, was a raised pedestal formed in
the shape of a 'U' whose curved side faced the mirrored wall, while the two
straight arms of the 'U', also a-bristle with shackles, extended some two feet
behind the curved base of the 'U'.
The pedestal was some twenty inches high and Ming-tsu was quickly made to
kneel atop it, with her knees at the closed end, and her lower legs extending
backward along the top of the arms of the 'U'. She knelt there, her dark eyes
wild and wrathful, before the heir to the House of Chan, who stood in front of
her with his back to the great mirror.
Chiang Chan, amused by her ire, stroked his chin like a chessplayer
pondering his next move while he admired the sleek lines and contours of his
prisoner's nude body. "I think the Bondage of the Seven Cords might temper our
lovely prisoner's urge to flee, Dao. What say you? Do you know it?"
"Aye, I know it," Dao said gruffly. Feng had taught him well.
*******
Early in his tour of duty as a Scorpion, Dao had watched Feng administer
the daunting restraint of the Seven Cords to Chah-lin, a fresh-faced young girl
of fifteen. A thrice-familiar story -- Chah-lin's uncle, a prosperous textile
merchant, had tried to cheat the Scorpions of their extortion money. Dao and
Feng had lain in wait one night outside the uncle's house and abducted the girl
and brought her back to the Black Pagoda as a hostage until her greedy uncle
came to his senses. Feng, meanwhile, decided that it would be a shame to waste
the presence of such a young and limber captive and had made use of the
opportunity to instruct his apprentice in the rudiments of rope bondage.
By the time her uncle had raised the money to redeem the slim but lovely
creature some eighteen harrowing hours later -- by paying his entire arrears of
protection money, plus three months in advance -- one would have had difficulty
finding a hand's width of space anywhere on her shapely young body that remained
unmarked by Feng's sturdy cords.
Dao had had no idea there were so many kinds of rope, so many kinds of
knots, so many intricate positions. Feng had handled the lithe, limber body of
the innocent maiden with surpassing skill, as if he had been an artist or
sculptor and she had been his model, arranging her body effortlessly,
manipulating her young and flexible form into an infinitely diverting series of
configurations. Her mouth had been filled with one uncomfortable gag after
another; Her wrists, ankles, arms, and legs all came to bear the imprint of
Feng's bondage ropes. Nor did her torso escape -- her slim-waisted stomach, her
flat midsection, her sensitive, sparsely-fringed crotch and even the deep groove
between her girlish buttocks -- all had felt the tightness of Feng's cords.
Even Chah-lin's still-ripening breasts were raw from the coarse hemp by the
time of her rescue. Upon flicking them teasingly with a stiff rope-end, Feng
had noticed that the girl had been blessed with unusually responsive nipples.
Capitalizing on that serendipitous circumstance, Feng had used his ropes to
emphasize the natural beauty of her breast-tips, wrapping a long, thin cord
around the soft curves of her pleasure-cones twice, once just above and once
just below her distended nipples, imprisoning her aroused love-buds in a
moderately snug hempen vise that made them swell most pleasingly.
Then Richard Chan's dungeonmasterr had offered the breast cord to his
gaptoothed apprentice so that he might have the pleasure of tightening it. Dao
had taken the end of the slender rope with all of the gusto appropriate to such
a pleasurable task. He was just about to give the cord a mighty jerk to pull
both strands tight around Chah-lin's breasts when Feng had admonished him that
the effectiveness of bondage depended upon steady pressure, not sudden force.
Acting on that wise advice, Dao had taken the rope and tightened it slowly,
inexorably, around Chah-lin's virginal breast cones, until the tears of pain
streaming from her eyes joined the trickles of drool that escaped from the
rounded corners of her gagged mouth. The twin rivulets streamed down her face
before dripping down on to her breasts, and then continued in slow, silent
pilgrimage down the curves of her love-plums toward the dark, delicious stems
which protruded so brazenly from between the pair of ever-tightening
breast-cords...
