index


Message-ID: <34645asstr$1010740207@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: boonthailand@hotmail.com (Boon)
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
NNTP-Posting-Date: 11 Jan 2002 05:50:41 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Repost John Argus "Thailand Torture Toy"  (Part 1)
Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 04:10:07 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Wendy leaned forward over the rail and stared at the water flowing
past. Actually they were the ones moving. The water wasn't going
anywhere, she thought, just being shoved aside a little as the yacht
slid through it.
	There was little wind so the boat wasn't moving very fast. Wendy kept
wandering on deck to see if the wind might have picked up a little.
Her father refused to turn on the motor and she was eager to get
ashore somewhere, anywhere. She was sick of this boat.
	Oh, it had sounded great at first, cruising through the South Pacific
on a hundred foot sloop, just basking in the sun and relaxing. But
after weeks of it she was bored, bored, bored. She'd gotten enough sun
to last her forever, and enough ocean to last her longer than that.
	Besides which there really wasn't all that much interesting to see,
even ashore. If they'd been cruising through the Mediterranean or
maybe along the coast of Europe things would be different. What was
there out here anyway?
	Singapore was the only place that had looked half civilized. Ever
place else was banana land. They'd just left Malaysia, a crummy
looking place that wouldn't know what a good disco was if one dropped
out of the sky. It, like all the other places, was filled with icky
little brown and yellow people, almost none of whom could speak
English.
	They all seemed to live in crummy looking huts made of sticks or
grass, or worse yet, made of cardboard or corrugated tin. The
Philippines had been a dump that seemed to have the largest collection
of prostitutes in the world.
	To make matters worse, her sulking wasn't having much effect on her
father. She'd thrown tantrums and pouted around the boat for days, all
to no effect. She was still stuck here in the middle of nowhere with
nothing to do.
	She was seriously considering having an affair with one of the cruddy
deckhands, and making sure they were discovered by her father, just so
he'd get so pissed at her, he'd send her home for sure then. Not that
he had any illusions about her virginity, she supposed, but doing it
with a common sailor type would drive him crazy.
	She'd been waving her ass around in front of him for the last couple
of days, much to his annoyance, but so far wasn't willing to get
drastic. She had taken to wearing a tiny thong bottom that was little
better than a G-string, and a top that she'd found after boarding was
a couple of sizes too small.
	Now as she moved away from the rail and wandered down towards the
back of the boat, she knew that every one of the men she passed stared
at her with lust filled eyes. She could have any one of them if she
desired it. So far she didn't. Like her father, the thought of her
rolling around with some commoner type was rather nauseating to her.
	Her tastes ran to the more sophisticated, even effete type of men. So
much so that several times they'd turned out, much to her disgust, to
be gay. She'd even tried to turn one around, thinking that any man,
even a queer, would respond to her womanly arts and guile, and
especially, to her body.
	She had no illusions about her body's effect on men, not since she'd
been twelve years old and had developed an hourglass figure almost
overnight. Her body had only gotten better since then, in the care of
her masseuse, her exercise coach, and her almost daily body waxes,
nail jobs, and the indulgence of special and ultra-expensive body
oils.
	Now her skin and hair shone with health and beauty, was perfectly
shaped and disciplined, and helped her get most anything she wanted in
life. Her hair, thick, lustrous golden wave, flowed around her
shoulders and over her breasts to her belly. It framed her small,
exquisitely delicate face, with it's pert, upturned nose, thick,
sensuous lips,  and wide, bright green eyes.
	Her body would male a centerfold jealous, with wide rounded hips, a
tiny waist, smooth belly and high, firm, round breasts. Her buttocks
were an flawless, and precisely sculpted, and her legs were long and
smooth and tapered smoothly into trim ankles and tiny feet.
	She had taken great and malicious delight in displaying herself
around her father, knowing that he, like any man, could not avoid
lecherous thoughts around her when she was half naked. She'd even
tried to go around topless, but he'd put a quick stop to that, despite
her arguments.
	She was just waiting until she turned twenty-one, and got control of
her trust fund, then she'd make sure she got into one of those mens
magazines in her birthday suit. That'd show him, and everyone else of
course. She had a great body, and didn't care who knew it.
	When she'd been younger, she'd been a real whore, mostly so she could
show off her body to her lovers and see the appreciation and lust in
their eyes. She'd had scores of adult lovers when she'd been in her
teens, most of them her teachers, people who worked for her father,
servants, that sort of thing. She'd had few affairs with boys her own
age, considering them immature.
	That was still pretty much the case. Most of the men she went to bed
with now were a decade or two older than her. They knew how to treat a
woman's body, didn't squeeze and grasp her so she was left with
bruises. She liked her sex slow and easy, like on a plush rug before a
fireplace, with aged brandy or champagne, preferably with her on top.
	She sighed and moved down the stairs into the narrow corridor that
ran the length of the boat, or ship as her father insisted on calling
it. She smiled coyly at one of the crewmen as she sashayed past him,
feeling his eyes bore into her round bottom.
	She reached her room, or cabin, going inside and closing the door
behind her, then dropping flat on her back on the big bed and picking
up the remote control unit. She turned on the TV and VCR and then
turned up the sound of the music video.
	There were hundreds, in fact, thousands of tapes on board, but she
was bored with watching TV. Still, there wasn't much else to do. She
slipped off her top and then slid her bottom down her slim legs,
kicking them off into a far corner and lying there in the nude.
	She slid her arms up behind her head and watched the musical,
sniffing critically as the bimbo who was dancing to the music showed
her cleavage. A tit job for sure, she thought. She moved forward and
popped the tape out, then reached beneath her bed for another one, not
one from her father's collection.
	It slid in smoothly and she lay back again on her bed watching. This
tape was one of the ones she'd gotten Jimmie, one of the servants at
the New York home, to buy for her.
	 The image stabilized and she watched a huge black man walk forward.
Muscles rippled all over his frame, bulging out his arms and legs as
he approached a young, small, pretty blonde girl. His cock was
semi-erect, already incredibly thick, and long.
	The girl looked up at him through wide blue eyes, blinking and
looking fearful. She was wearing a schoolgirl's uniform, not unlike
the one Wendy wore at the prep school she attended. The black man
moved purposefully forward, his bald head gleaming in the camera
lights.
	He reached the girl and grabbed her hair, jerking her up against a
wall. His hand came around her throat and held her tightly as his
other hand casually stripped her. The girl sobbed and whined as he
tore her clothes off, but didn't put up much of a fight.
	Wendy watched cynically, though with some interest. She drew her legs
up a little and spread them apart. She slid her hand down over her
pussy and began to rub her clitty as she watched.	 The girl's breasts
were revealed, huge and fat, with giant brown nipples that Wendy
thought were really gross, especially compared to her own small pink
ones.
	The black man threw her back on a bed then climbed in on top of her.
He knelt over her face, his cock swaying back and forth, brushing
against her lips. He cuffed her hard, knocking her head to one side,
then gripped her hair and drove his cock into her mouth.
	Wendy fast forwarded a little, not really liking blowjobs. She
stopped to watch with a sigh of appreciation when the black guy got
the little blonde to swallow his entire cock. Wendy knew from personal
experience how difficult that was, especially with a cock that long
and thick.
	The black guy face-fucked the blonde for long minutes as the cameras
closed in, watching the seemingly unending length of black cock-meat
as it slid relentlessly past her lips and down her throat, then
reappeared, wet and glistening with her spit.
	Wendy curved her finger and slipped it into her pussy, driving it
down her tight pussy hole. She was rubbing and lightly squeezing her
breasts with her other hand as she stroked her fingers over her clitty
and fingered herself.
	The black guy had enough mouth and pulled out, then picked up the
little blonde's legs and shoved them way back against her chest,
jamming down her ankles until they were actually pressed against the
side of the blonde girl's head. Her puss was gaping wide and open for
the camera's eye.
	The slit, with it's pink, wet flesh, lay revealed and vulnerable as
the black guy jabbed his cock at it several times, finally catching
and forcing the round helmeted cockhead into her.
	Wendy watched with anticipation, rubbing herself harder and sliding
two fingers in and out of her pussy. The black man simply threw his
hips down and forward, skewering the little blonde, forcing his thick,
long cock down into her with a single brutal thrust.
	Wendy heard the girl's gasp and cry of pain and knew that was no act.
You couldn't take a cock that size, that fast without pain. She rubbed
harder at her clitty, grinding her hips in slow circles on the bed and
humping upwards against her fingers.
	The black man began to hammer his cock down into the little blonde
without any restraint at all. He fucked her furiously, savagely
ramming his muscular body down into her, rutting his cock in and out
of her pink pussy-slit with unrestrained force and velocity.
	Wendy had never been fucked like that and never really wanted to. She
had fantasies about it though, as did every woman and girl. The
fantasy about being brutally taken by some handsome, muscular beefcake
type, just... USED for his pleasure, like a whore.
	Her eyes were locked on the screen as the black man pounded down into
the little blonde. She heard little grunts then that weren't coming
from the screen and felt her awareness of the picture slipping as her
body's reactions began to obscure her other senses.
	Her body hummed with sexual energy. She felt her belly churning and
tumbling and her crotch burning and steaming with need. Her breasts
were hugely swollen, and shot fire into her chest every time she
tweaked one of her hard little nipples.
	She was bouncing her bottom up and down on the mattress now as the
black guy really gave it to the little blonde. He was bouncing his
whole huge, heavy body up and down on her folded, doubled up body. His
cock was tearing in and out of her like a pile driver.
	Wendy stuffed three finger into her own pussy, ramming them in and
out as she imagined herself under a huge, savage black man, imagined
him rutting down into her with his giant black cock, imagined him
squeezing and kneading her tender breasts.
	She moaned low in her throat, her fingers dripping wet as they jammed
deep into her box. She could feel her arousal deepen, feel her
excitement mount. Her body was afire with sensuous lust which was
growing more and more intense.
	On the screen, the black guy finished fucking the little blonde and
the screen abruptly changed images. Now the blonde was bent over the
black man's lap, his hand came down hard on her upturned buttocks,
slapping with a loud crack and leaving a big red hand mark.
	He began spanking her heavily as she sobbed and bawled and kicked her
little legs up and down. Then he rolled her off and forced her onto
her hands and knees, kneeling behind her. His hard cock thrust into
her pussy and he began to fuck her like a dog.
	Wendy never allowed her lovers to fuck her in that position,
considering it demeaning, but now it increased her excitement as her
pussy sent shockwaves of hot pulsating lust rippling through her
shuddering body. Her fingers were sliding in and out of her sopping
pussy-pit almost as fast as the black guy was fucking the blonde.
	She felt the prelude to orgasm and rubbed harder still over her
clitty, then grabbed her left breast in her hand and squeezed her
fingers down hard, sending a hard biting blast of heat into her chest
and belly. She came then, bouncing her hips up and down on the bed as
wave after wave of sexual release rolled through her.
	Her mouth opened in a soundless cry of ecstasy as her back arched,
her chest jutting upwards, her bottom rising off the bed and her
weight coming down on her shoulders. Then she fell back exhausted to
the mattress, laying there spreadeagled, her chest rising and falling
rapidly as she regained her breath.
	She puffed a breath off air up to knock the hair out of her face,
then reached up with her hand and shoved and pulled the mass of
tangled blonde hairs away. She lay there for a few minutes, then sat
up, turning off the VCR and getting out of bed..
	She wandered into the bathroom for a shower, thinking about how best
to annoy her father at dinner that night.

	Dinner on the High Finance was a formal affair, with her father and
his two male guest wearing dinner jackets, and their wives wearing
designer dresses that cost enough to have fed a small nation for a
year.
	Besides her father, there was his current wife, a sleek looking
brunette with big breasts and a mindless stare. She wasn't much older
than Wendy, much to the latter's disgust. Her name was Cindy, and she
was her father's current showpiece.
	The other two women were of similar ilk, one a long legged brunette
with big breasts, the other a short redhead with big breasts. All
three were clad in tight fitting, low cut dresses that revealed all
their charms. Wendy considered all of them to be little better than
whores.
	She herself dressed much plainer. She wore a very simple short, white
dress. It covered her chest demurely, but the hem descended no more
than a half inch below her buttocks. It was incredibly tight,
revealing every detail of her body's musculature, from her flat belly
to her high breasts and round hips.
	She wore no bra or underpants, since those would have showed through
the material. She had the smug pleasure of seeing her father's two
partners eye her with carefully discrete interest as she approached.
She was, she knew, much better looking than the sluts they had brought
with them.
	"You're looking... lovely tonight, dear," Cindy said, frowning
slightly.
	"Why thank you, Mother dear," Wendy said, all wide eyed. Cindy's
frown deepened.
	"Don't get snotty, Wendy," her Dad said.
	"Who? Me?"
	"Oh, leave the poor child alone, Alfred." Mrs Young said, bobbing her
twenty three year old head. "You're always arguing with her."
	"Girl has no respect," her father grumbled.
	"Aren't you about ready for college, dear?" Mrs. Young, asked,
smiling sweetly.
	"Aren't you?"
	Mrs. Young glared. Her husband guffawed, slapping the table and
throwing his arm around his "wife", hugging her tightly. "Young" was a
good name for Becky Young, since she was a good thirty years younger
than her husband. She drew in a deep breath, accentuating her large
breasts.
	"Don't be fresh, Wendy," her father snapped.
	"Well excuse me. I was only asking a question," Wendy said.
	The other woman, the little redhead, Holly, kept her mouth shut. She
didn't want to get into any kind of conversation with Wendy, not after
the girl had caught her sniffing a line of coke that afternoon. Her
husband was a big time anti-drug campaigner who advocated locking up
all drug users on a deserted island.
	"Young people today simply have no respect," Holly's husband, Roger
said.
	"Is that why you married a child?" Wendy inquired acidly.
	"Wendy!" her father snapped.
	"Oh fuck off, Daddy," Wendy said. "I'm not going to act like the
charming little girl for your friends and their whores."

	Which was how she came to be in her room, while the others ate
dinner. Like I care, she humphed to herself, munching on caviar and
sipping straight champagne from the bottle. She was, she decided,
going to jump ship at the next stop and use her credit cards to get
her on an aeroplane home, even if she had to fly coach.
	She stripped and put on the top of her black satin pyjamas, then sat
on the bed to watch a movie. It was something about some bigshot
business guy who was cheating on his taxes and got found out and sent
to jail.
	 Wendy allowed herself the luxury of imagining her father going
through that, though she wouldn't want that to happen for real as long
as she needed to live off his money. Another two years, four months
and eleven days, though and she'd be twenty-one and free.
	The boat heeled over sharply and she fell forward on the mattress,
spilling her glass all over the silk sheets. She pushed herself back
with an angry curse, then slammed the glass down on the night table
and rang the bell for a servant.
	She cursed her father, the boat, the crew and the ocean with equal
impartiality, staring sullenly at the door so she could give whoever
showed up a real nasty tongue lashing.
	Then the boat heeled far over in the other direction and she fell
back with a startled squawk.
	"What the fuck is going on?" she snarled, patting her hair back into
place as she tried to stand up.
	She hung onto the side of the bed to steady herself as she walked
towards the door.
	The boat heeled over again and she staggered across to the door,
hanging onto the handle to keep from falling. She started to open it,
then grimaced and looked back to the bed, where her robe lay. The tops
of the pyjamas barely covered her naked rump and were thin and flappy
in any kind of breeze.
	There was shouting and yelling coming from above her, very loud
shouting. Then there was a series of loud bangs and screams. She
blinked in confusion, her instincts to go out and yell at somebody
suddenly being overcome by the realization that something could be
seriously wrong.
	She jerked open the door and yelled at a crewman who was running
past. The man stopped abruptly and turned to stare at her.
	"What the fuck is going on?" She demanded, thinking as she did, that
he didn't look at all like the perfectly groomed and manicured crew
members she'd seen so far. In fact, he was an oriental and she
couldn't' remember there being any orientals on the crew.
	Instead of answering her he lunged forward, throwing his arms around
her and knocking her back through the doorway until the back of her
legs hit the foot of her bed and she tumbled back into it. He fell
atop her, his hips between her spread legs as he gripped her hair and
tried to kiss her.
	She spat and cursed, outraged that he would dare touch her, trying to
claw his face, and succeeding in leaving deep furrows down one cheek.
	He yelled loudly, in some ignorant language and then punched her in
the face. Wendy's head was knocked back to the mattress and her
yelling stopped as she blinked up at him in pain and astonishment. No
one had ever hit her before.
	His lips mashed down bruisingly hard against hers and his hand
squeezed her breasts through the thin top. He mumbled and hissed in
whatever language he owned and ground down against her sex. Wendy was
petrified and frozen, unable to react to something that was completely
outside her range of experiences.
	The man jerked his rough trousers down and brought out his cock,
erect and angry looking. He grinned nastily at Wendy, and placed the
head against her blonde fringed slit, then lunged forward, driving it
into her body. He shoved his hips forward, forcing the cock deep into
her soft, tender tunnel as his hands tore open her top and latched
around her breasts.
	Wendy was whimpering and staring at him in shock, not daring to move
for fear of being struck again. The man's cock ploughed down deep into
her sheath, filling her with it's male hardness as he humped furiously
against her.
	His lips came down on hers again, pressing roughly, hotly against her
own. His tongue jammed into her mouth, whipping around inside her oral
cavity as he lunged back and forth on top of her, pounding his cock in
and out of her dry sex.
	Wendy could vaguely hear screams and yells from far away, but paid
them little heed as she lay there, wide eyed beneath her rapist. His
hands were savagely squeezing and twisting her breast meat, bringing
pain to her chest and more tears to her eyes.
	She began to cry openly, sobbing and bawling as the man rutted into
her. He cuffed her roughly, the back of his hand knocking her head
aside. Then he gripped her hair, pulling it back as he held her face
still and brutally crushed her lips with his.
	His hips and belly rode back and forth against her inner thighs. Her
legs were splayed wide and unmoving as he took her savagely. He lunged
forward again and again, driving his cock into her with short,
furiously fast strokes.
	He smelled of fish and oil and his hands left a slimy trail of sweat
wherever they touched. They fastened around her soft white buttocks
then, squeezing tightly, digging into the smooth flesh as he grunted
and groaned and mumbled in cruel pleasure above her.
	His cock rutted into her like a mad dog, sliding back and forth
between her taut pussy-lips as he rode her for his own satisfaction.
She was a tool for his enjoyment, with as little importance as a dog. 
He used her body to jerk-off in, pounding furiously in his eagerness
to come off.
	The man groaned and stuffed his cock deep inside her, holding still
as his eyes narrowed and his mouth gaped open. Wendy felt his cum
spitting down into her belly as he came, his hands roughly squeezing
her breasts and pulling her hair.
	Then he bounced off her, as if suddenly in a terrific hurry. He
grabbed her by the hair and jerked her up after him, dragging her out
of her room and down the corridor to the rear of the boat. Wendy
yelped and whined and sniffled as she hurried after him.
	She heard more of the explosions and realized now they must be
gunshots. She couldn't understand that, couldn't see why anyone would
be shooting guns on the High Finance.
	The man threw her forward and she staggered into the arms of another
Asian man. He glared fiercely at her and jerked her forward again.
There were half a dozen others there, all of them throwing things off
the stern of the boat into a smaller boat tied up to one side.
	All of them crouched low, and Wendy realized why when a man gave a
grunt and fell forward, a gaping, bloody hole in the back of his head.
She stared at it in stunned horror, watching the blood bubble out.
	Then someone shoved her forward and another man lowered her into the
arms of a man standing in the boat below. He threw her across the deck
where she fell onto her side by a pile of fur coats.
	The other men began dropping over the edge of the High Finance, then,
shooting behind them as they did. Another man gave scream and fell
forward into the ocean, not surfacing. The boat's motor gave a growl
and they moved rapidly away from the yacht.
	Wendy watched its lights recede into the darkness with a growing
horror and fear. She looked around her at the rough looking Asian men
who were crouching below the sides of the boat, keeping low as the
occasional bullet thumped into the rear.
	She suddenly longed desperately for her boring little cabin on the
yacht and began helplessly whimpering again as she thought about the
terrible ordeal she would soon be going through. For she had no doubt
whatsoever that these men would rape her, and then probably kill her,
maybe throwing her into the sea to drown.
	The lights of the yacht disappeared and the men began talking and
then getting to their feet. They ignored her at first, pawing through
the goods they'd stolen from the High Finance. There were loud
arguments, apparently as they divvied things up.
	Then they all turned and looked at Wendy, crouching in a corner, her
torn pyjama top held tightly together by her white knuckled fists.

The men began talking to each other in low voices, the tone snide and
sneering as they looked at her. One of them reached down and dragged
her up by the hair, ignoring her cries of pain and protest. He stood
behind her, pinning her wrists tightly together high up behind her
back, pulling her head back by the hair to thrust out her chest for
the leering group of watchers.
	The pyjama top came apart, gaping open to reveal all her charms for
the men, who looked on admiringly, talking and chattering amongst
themselves in their singsong voices. They were all incredibly ugly,
Wendy thought, and smelled terrible, like they hadn't bathed in
months.
	The man behind her frog-marched her forward until they came up to a
wooden crate of some kind. He shoved her belly-down across it, and
kicked her legs apart. Wendy shuddered as she felt his hand slam down
on her buttocks, gripping her bottom in a tight squeeze as the man
said something to the others in a loud, jovial voice.
	They all laughed. Then Wendy felt something press against her soft
pubic lips, and roughly push up inside her. She whimpered louder, then
bit her lip to keep quiet, afraid they'd hit her. She recognized
fingers ramming in and out of her pussy. They were withdrawn, and then
something thicker and softer pushed against her.
	The man thrust forward, driving his cock into her pussy from behind.
Wendy could do nothing but hug the crate as she felt his organ drive
up into her belly. She stared down at the surface of the wooden crate,
horrified and miserable with pain and humiliation.
	The other men were all gathered around her as the man hammered his
cock into her sex. His fat belly slapped against her buttocks,
grinding her hips against the sharp edge of the crate, knocking her
bare knees into the side. Wendy was petrified, unable to do anything
but lay there and take the terrible abuse of her most private centre,
whimpering as her pussy ached more and more deeply.
	The man's cock was thick and long. It pounded in and out of her pussy
with fearsome thrusts, ripping back and forth between her sensitive
pubic-lips with agonizing speed. Her pussy burned and shot fiery
stabbing pain signals up her spine as the man brutally raped her. The
second rape of the night, she thought dazedly, but only the beginning.
She was about to be gang raped. The words had often invoked dark
arousal and excitement when she'd fantasied about them, or even when
she'd heard about other girls who were victims.
	She'd often read stories of girls who had been gang-raped, and
fantasised about how lewd and nasty and wicked the event must have
been, imagining herself at the center of a wild group of lust crazed
men - all gorgeous and well-bathed, of course, all wildly admiring of
her beauty and sensuality.
	The reality was far different, as her body was pounded from behind
again and again, the hard prick slicing in and out of her as the man's
hips slammed powerfully against her bottom and a pack of wild Asian
men howled and screamed in glee as she was raped right before them,
all crowded in to cheer on her rapist..
	She was getting splinters in her tender breasts as the man jerked her
body back and forth, ramming her thighs and hips into the sharp
corners of the crate. His cock sawed back and forth inside her as he
grunted and cursed and laughed.
	Wendy moaned, her tear filled eyes closed as she hugged the crate.
She felt the man jam his spike-like cock high into her belly, then
grind his pubic bone from side to side against her sex, shoving hard
against her as if he sought to force her body into the crate.
	She cried out with pain then as her soft flesh was mashed against the
hard wood of the crate. This brought a harsh snarl and an open hand
cracking down against the side of her head, making her ears ring.
	He slapped her bottom, then, the crack loud and sharp on the night
air, rising even above her helpless cry of pain as the sharp sting
burned into her. He pulled his cock out suddenly, apparently sated,
then stepped away. At once, another man stepped into place behind the
miserable teenager, and she felt another cock press against her tiny
entrance.

	Back on the High Finance things were just starting to sort themselves
out. Half a dozen crewmen were dead, and several others wounded. None
of the passengers were harmed, having been quickly moved into a
forward storage area away from the pirates.
	Captain Newman took the reports from his first mate, looking grimly
around him and then shaking his head with resignation. He nodded and
turned away, going over to Mr. Crane and pursing his lips anxiously.
	"Sir, I'm afraid I have some very bad news," he said.
	"What? Is my daughter all right?" Crane demanded.
	"Sir, I'm afraid Miss Wendy is not in her cabin. She isn't anywhere
on the ship."
	"What?"
	"Oh My God!" Cindy said, her hand covering her mouth.
	"What are you..."
	"I'm afraid one of the men saw a blonde woman being forced over the
side into the pirates' boat, sir."
	Crane's face darkened angrily.
	"You're saying my daughter has been kidnapped by those scum!?"
	"I'm afraid it very much looks like it, sir."
	"Well turn around and go after them, Dammit!"
	"That's pointless, sir. We don't know what direction they went and
even if we did.." he shrugged helplessly.
	"We aren't made for speed, sir. They'll easily outdistance us."
	"I'm not going to just leave her with those... those..."
	"Sir, all we can do is get ashore and contact the authorities. If
they hadn't destroyed our radio.... but anyway, we don't know how many
others there are out there. We should get ashore and get help."
	"And meanwhile my daughter is in the hands of those fucking scumbags,
who are doing God only knows what to her!!"
	"It's all we can do, sir." The Captain shrugged.
	Crane turned away and gazed furiously out to sea, as if he could find
the fleeing pirates with his eyes alone, despite the dark and
distance.
	"I will hunt those little fuckers down," he said.
	"No matter how long and how much it costs, I'm going to get them and
see them all dead!"

	Wendy's eyes were half closed, exhaustion lay heavy on her body. One
after another the pirates had raped her against the crate, their hard
male cocks slicing in and out of her soft, pink tunnel, their hands
mauling her soft flesh. They seemed untiring as they pleasured and
amused themselves with her body, and she wondered dizzily if it would
ever end.
	Now she was on her knees on the deck. Even the poor covering of her
torn top had been taken from her and she was completely nude. Her
flesh gleamed in the moonlight as she bent forward over the Asian
man's crotch, bobbing her mouth up and down on his cock.
	Her wrists were tightly bound behind her with a strip of leather hide
that was so tight she'd already lost all feeling in her hands.
	She recalled the many times she'd engaged in light bondage games, the
hot, steaming heat she'd felt when bound, and marvelled that now she
was experiencing the real thing, yet felt nothing but cold terror,
pain and humiliation.
	Her breasts hung down heavily beneath her, bruised and aching from
being squeezed, twisted, slapped and roughly fondled for so long.
	Her round bottom stuck up vulnerably and as the man sitting in front
of her squeezed her hanging left breast, another man knelt behind her
and forced her legs apart. She moaned into the cock stuffing her mouth
as she felt her raw, aching pussy penetrated yet again.
	The man started fucking her with long casual strokes as the man in
front slapped her head to remind her to work on him. She bobbed her
head up and down, up and down, her lips pulled tightly around his cock
shaft, her tongue working hard to bring him off as she sucked.
	Anything less than energetic work earned her a hard slap in the face
or on the head or breast. He gripped her thick tangled hair in both
hands and jerked her roughly up and down on his cock, his cock-knob
rapping hard against the back of her mouth each time, making her gag
repeatedly.
	The men were drunk and getting drunker as they sat and stood around
guzzling the High Finance's expensive brandy and whisky. Their
comments were loud and crude and obnoxious and Wendy was just as glad
she couldn't understand them.
	Cum spurted up into her mouth and she swallowed quickly, her tongue
slipping all around the man's cock as she cleaned him off and gulped
down his juice. The man sighed in satisfaction and let go of her head.
He shoved her back and stood up.
	The man behind her slid his hands under her chest and grabbed her
breasts, hauling her upper body upright and back against him as he
rutted mercilessly into her pussy-hole. Her breasts were painfully
twisted, mashed and kneaded as he kissed her throat, biting and
chewing at the nape of her neck.
	Another man sat down in front of her and she was jerked  forward
again, swallowing another cock as the man behind her began to fuck
into her in earnest. His cock sliced back and forth as his hands
encircled her waist and drew her back against his forward thrusts.
	It was all she could do to keep the cock in her mouth from sliding
out. Then it did slide out and the man snarled and slapped her face
hard, pulling her back down by the hair until his cock filled her
mouth again.
	Her jaw ached from overuse. She'd lost track of the number of cocks
she'd had to suck on and hardly had any strength left in her jaw and
tongue. Her back ached, her crotch and inner thighs were rubbed raw,
her pussy was a burning wound and she had a blazing headache.
	The man fucking her spent himself, dropping his load in her belly,
then withdrew. Another man knelt behind her and another cock drove
into her pink velvet tunnel. He humped furiously against her for
almost two minutes before spewing his gunk into her sex.
	The man Wendy was sucking pulled her off him and shoved her back onto
a pile of thick ropes on the deck. He fell forward atop her, between
her instinctively spread legs, and drove his hot, wet cock down into
her pussy.
	He grunted and growled as he rutted into her, lifting her legs and
shoving them wide apart as he rutted into her hole. Her back and
buttocks were being rubbed raw on the thick coarse rope as the man
ground himself down into her.
	Her arms ached, pinned beneath her by both their weights. He shoved
her legs further back, pounding his loins into her greasy, cum filled
pussy with renewed force. Wendy's mind was a blurred daze. Her jaw
hung open as she looked up blearily into the crazed eyes of the
fisherman atop her.
	She saw no remorse, no regret, not a trace of sympathy in his lust
filled eyes. If the man thought what he was doing was in any way
wrong, no trace of that appeared on his face. He shoved down on her
legs, bouncing her crotch up to meet his hard thrusting member.
    She grunted as it drove into her again, the cock-head  boring a
deep tunnel through her elasticised pussy tunnel. In and out, in and
out, in and out it pumped, his hips moving like a jackhammer as he
stabbed into her again and again, her body shook and vibrated there,
her buttocks jiggling, her groin burning.
	She cried out, the sound an animal moan of mindless pain, as someone
grasped a handful of her thick blonde hair and yanked her head off the
carton. A man stood on the other side, sneering down at her, and as
her glazed eyes looked upwards he thrust his cock into her open mouth,
cursing at her and twisting her hair to force her to suck.
	Yet she could not. Wendy was too dazed from too many blows, from too
much shock and pain. The previously spoiled and cosseted young woman
hadn't the strength to cope with such cruelties visited upon her, and
so her mind retreated, leaving her body largely alone. A harsh slap
did little than draw a grunt, and so the man thrust himself forward,
the rounded head of his cock forced past the back of her throat and
down her gullet.
	Wendy's body heaved and writhed, but weakly, and instinctively
protesting the blockage and discomfort in her throat. The man held her
easily, thrusting the long length of his cock down her slender throat
as the other pirates looked on and laughed in glee.
	On and on it went, for the poor teenager, as the boat rolled through
the waves and made its unsteady way back to land. As each man finished
another took his place, and her mind slipped into numbness, distancing
itself from the pain and humiliation being visited upon her.
	And then something dark crept forth, something ancient, something
amoral and animalistic, a creature of the distant past and her own
darkest fantasies. And there, surrounded by leering, shouting,
laughing men, treated like an animal creature of sex, her body began
to slowly warm to its own abuse.
	Wendy's straining pussy skin grow warmer with the repeated fast
stroking of the long thick yellow cock. A dark heat began to spread
into her belly, then upwards through her body and out into her limbs.
	Her body, previously stiff, shocked and cringing from her fear, was
now largely free of her mind's control, of the concerns of pride and
inhibitions which governed her. It began to respond to the stimuli
being inflicted upon it, as it was designed to do in the dawn of man,
when the female was a wild and feral creature to be subdued and ridden
roughly to produce succeeding generations.
	The warmth became heat, a heat that burned into her lower belly like
a fiery white hot poker. She moaned dazedly, her body twisting from
side to side. Her eyes fluttered as further confusion and twisted
sensations of pleasure rippled through it. It was like a terrible
yearning inside her lower belly, a yearning which more and more
terrible.
	The glazed eyed girl began to gasp and pant around the cock thrusting
into her mouth, the sensations oozing through the pores and along the
veins of her body, setting her trembling and shaking. She had no real
idea what was happening, knew only that she was being further
tormented from some unknown agency, in some unknown manner.
	Her head dropped far back and she moaned long and low, a strange keen
of mindless pleasure and exhaustion. Her eyes closed and her body
jerked convulsively, even as the fisherman continued to pound their
hard prongs into her.
	Her body flared with heat, the sensuous energy ripping through her
like an electrical charge. She grunted mindlessly, jaw slack as the
pirate before her thrust himself cruelly back and forth through her
open lips. She couldn't breath, couldn't see, couldn't think.
	Her body was a bestial thing, a carnal instrument, a receptacle for
hard driving cocks and hot, wet, salty white semen. She screamed
soundlessly, a cry of ecstasy and protest, of wonder and confusion,
her entire body shaking furiously from a blast wave of overheated
sensory data.
	She stiffened as much as she could with her body crushed beneath the
men's round use, then her eyes rolled back in her head and she
collapsed into a semi-conscious delirium.

	It took more than a day for High Finance to reach a port. There the
attack was reported to the local authorities, who sympathized and
promised to try, but who were obviously overloaded and under-equipped
to do anything.
	Crane had no intention of relying on a bunch of third world bozos to
get his daughter back. He went to the American consulate and, by way
of political connections, managed to see the consul general.
	He too offered sympathy, but no action.
	"You have to understand, Mr. Crane," the consul general said. "These
waters are infested with pirates. Most of them are fishermen who use
piracy as a kind of second income. They're utterly ruthless and leave
few witnesses behind. There are thousands and thousands of little
boats out there and knowing which are pirates is damned near
impossible."
	"They must have some kind of base."
	"No. That's just it. They go out fishing from some nothing little
village. Nobody knows what they do. They come back with fish. The
things they steal are hidden or sold elsewhere before they even reach
home. Unless they are actually caught with the loot, or in the process
of robbing some boat, how can we tell they're pirates?"
	"Somebody must know them!"
	"I repeat, they aren't for the most part, organized. It's just a
ship's crew, and they aren't going to talk, and if they do it's to
some other villager who sure as hell isn't going to come in to us and
rat on their friends."
	"What about my daughter?" Crane demanded.
	The Consul-general sighed and shook his head.
	"The most we can do is try and put it out to the underworld here that
you'll be willing to pay a big ransom for her return. But even that
isn't going to be much good since the people who took her are probably
headed for some tiny village somewhere on the coast. Hell, they might
not even be from this country."
	"You're saying I'm not going to get her back?"
	"Mr. Crane, I'm sorry. The brutal facts are that most female captives
are raped at sea and then tossed over the side. These people are
heartless. Remember the big Vietnamese boat lift? Whole little boats
loaded with dozens of people were attacked and sunk. Girls as young as
eight or nine were raped and then had their throats cut."
	Crane stared at him angrily and the man shrugged again.
	"The only hope, and a very very faint hope it is, is if they're from
Thailand and bring her back there."
	"Why is that a hope?" Crane demanded.
	"Well, as I said, it's pretty faint, but... well... Thailand has a
very active trade in young females. The entire country is a sewer for
sexual slavery. It's possible that your daughter, being white and thus
very valuable, might be sold to some dealer there. They're much more
organized and would probably be willing to part with her for enough
money. The slave traders, that is. I could put word out there for you,
for them to keep an eye open for a blonde girl."
	Crane sat silently, shaking his head slowly in revulsion.
	"I warn you, sir." The Consul said, "these female captives are not
treated well. If she is sold there, it will probably be to a brothel."
	"I don't believe this!" Crane snarled, jumping to his feet and
staring furiously down at the man. "An American girl is forcibly taken
off an American boat. You say she's going to be fucking well SOLD as
some kind of sex slave. And there's nothing that can be done about
it?!!"
	The man held up his hands helplessly. 
	"What would you have us do, sir? If we knew where she was, we'd try
very hard to get her back. We just have no way of knowing. The trade
in slaves is too widespread and secretive."
	"You said they have a slave market."
	"Well, yes. Ostensibly the young people, and we're mostly talking
about pre-teens and adolescent girls, are for work, not sex, but
everyone knows differently. Your daughter wouldn't be at the open
market though. Being white, they'd assume someone was looking for her
and keep her sale more secretive."
	"Well I have a great deal of faith in the American dollar, Mister,
even if not much in the American government. I'll find her and I'll
find the fuckers who took her if it costs me a hundred million dollars
to do it!"
	Crane stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
Official channels were not going to get him anywhere. He'd have to
find someone who knew his way around this part of the world, someone
utterly ruthless. He went back to his hotel and placed along distance
call to Washington, to a man who would know just where to find people
like that.

	They were at sea for three days. Wendy was constantly raped, slapped,
kicked, fondled, manhandled and abused. The pirates also expected her
to cook and clean for them. And made their displeasure known at her
lack of culinary abilities.
	But worse was when they were sated, and they had time on their hands,
for they appeared to hate her, and took great delight in punishing her
in order to satisfy that hatred. After the long night of rape Wendy
was thrown into the bilge below decks, her ankles pulled back
painfully so that her spine threatened to snap, bound tightly to her
wrists. Six inches of filthy sludge rolled back and forth across her
body as the little boat churned through the waves, and Wendy coughed
and sputtered helplessly, her own tears often adding to the moisture.
	She was dragged above decks when no other traffic was nearby, and her
wrists untied, then retied in front of her.
	Then she was thrown over the side by the laughing, snickering
pirates, who watched in amusement as she was dragged through the waves
behind the boat. The water buffeted her bruised body, as she twisted
and turned like a fish on the end of the line, her head and shoulders
barely above water - and then only before smashing into the next wave
as the boat dragged her along.
	She was dragged back aboard, gasping, heaving, coughing, dripping
wet, and frozen, to be swarmed again by the lust-filled men. Their
hands mauled her body and then their cocks drove into her pussy, mouth
and anus. For two hours she was raped, then as their lust was
satisfied one of the men gripped her still damp hair and bound it in a
loose braid at the top of her head.
	As the others looked on, he bound a strong cord to it, then said
something which drew gales of laughter.
	Wendy was shoved back against the ship's mast, her hands rebound
behind her back - and then lifted.
	The pain as her hair was pulled jarred her somewhat out of her
numbness, just as the "swim" had, and she sobbed and cried out,
begging them to stop as needles of pain dug into her scalp. The
needles became spikes and daggers, and then she shrieked as the cord
lifted her off her toes to dangle there in mid-air.
	The man laughed and pointed, apparently much amused, but Wendy could
feel only the agony in her scalp. The boat continued to plough through
the waves, and she began to swing from side to side.
	As she swung she was pulled higher, the pirates pulling on the stout
cord to lift her several feet, then a dozen, then twenty feet into the
air.
	A nightmare of pain gripped her as she swung wildly, now far out over
the water, now back over the boat and far over the other side. She
spun in circles, gagging and coughing, and only its completely empty
state prevented her belly from turning over.
	She grunted in pain as her body slammed into the mast, the wind
knocked out of her, then swung back out over the water again. Again
she slammed into the mast, then swirled and twisted back out over the
other side.
	She had no conception or measure of time, barely conscious now, even
of the pain tearing at her scalp. She was aware only vaguely of being
lowered back to the deck, of the flood of relief as the pressure was
removed from her hair. Then she was hoisted upwards once more, this
time by one ankle.
	And there she spent the night, swinging back and forth.
	The next morning she was lowered to the deck to be gang raped once
more, on all fours, an insensible animal barely alive. Then she was
thrown into the bilge again to spend the daylight hours.
	Buckets of cold sea water were thrown over her, but she barely
noticed. Rough hands twisted and turned her, rough rags scrubbing the
worst of the filth from her body. Slaps and cuffs and yanks on her
hair raised the girl who had once been Wendy to her feet, and a rope
around her throat was pulled tight as she was half dragged, half
carried up onto the deck.
	Mindless, the dripping white girl was led down the narrow plank and
onto the narrow wooden dock. The naked girl caused no little interest
as the men, arms laden with booty, moved through the almost entirely
male assembly. She was numbed to feel anything so common as
embarrassment as she was pulled through the men. Hands grabbed at her
bottom and breasts as she passed but she barely noticed them.
	She was not the only woman. Here and there were other females, mostly
even younger than her. Most of them were also naked, or barely
dressed. Not far away, a string of a half dozen pretty young
Vietnamese girls were held together by ropes around their throats.
They were all naked and had all been well raped before being brought
here.
	This place was not on any map, and indeed, did not exist except for
short periods of time. It moved every few days, but it's clientele
always knew how to find it. For this was where their booty could be
sold for cash.
	 For the most part the booty was cheap Asian goods and pretty Asian
girls. Few of the pirates were daring enough to hit a western boat. A
year back one boat had actually hit an ocean going freighter and
robbed it though.
	That was one of the few exceptions. Mostly they preyed on other
fishermen and the helpless refugees dared the oceans and seas to
escape tyranny or poverty. There weren't as many of the refugees as
there once was, but there were still enough to turn a profit in the
flourishing Thai flesh trade.
	Wendy was hauled along behind the jovial men until they arrived at a
small hut. There the leader of the pirates met with a well dressed,
pot-bellied man and the two talked, both turning to look at her often,
both gesturing in her direction.
	The pot-bellied man and the pirate were both gesticulating as they
yelled at each other. Then the argument abruptly ceased and the
pot-bellied man handed the pirate a small wad of bills. The pirate
shoved Wendy forward and then turned with a grunt, walking away.
	The rest of the pirates followed and the pot-bellied man pulled on
the rope around Wendy's throat, jerking her into the hut. She fell
down in the dirt and stayed there, her head bowed as she fought to
keep her eyes from closing. She had had no sleep, of course, since her
capture.
	There were other girls in the hut. Three of them. They were Asians of
some kind. She didn't know or care where from. She ignored them and
they ignored her, each of them too wrapped up in misery and
exhaustion.
	They were there the rest of the afternoon. Wendy fell asleep almost
immediately. When she was roughly shaken awake, she saw that two more
girls were in the hut, both Asians in their mid-teens. All six of them
were hauled to their feet and shoved and slapped until they left the
hut.
	The sun was starting to set as the six were led to the shore and put
on a small fishing boat. They were shoved through a narrow hatch and
down into the belly of the boat, then the top was slammed shut,
leaving them in foul smelling, pitch black hold.
	The boat left shore, rocking unstably in the waves as it groaned
along. Time passed, though it had no meaning for the girls in the
hold. Eventually they fell asleep, one by one.
	The light woke them, that and the voices cursing and yelling at them.
They roused and stumbled to their feet, moving quickly as their
captors prodded them with sharp sticks. They climbed up the steep
stairwell, not an easy task with their hands bound behind them.
	The boat had docked. There were no lights as the girls were led up
the gangway and onto the dock. There was a panel truck there and they
were ushered inside. Then the doors were slammed and they were left in
the darkness once again.
	The truck bounced worse than the boat had, the roads hereabouts being
in less than perfect condition. They rode for an hour before stopping.
Then the doors were opened and they were led off and into a building.
	None of them got a look at the outside as they hurried down a cold
stone stairwell. At the bottom was another corridor, then a turn and a
series of cell-like rooms. Each girl was thrust into a separate room,
and bowls of rice and water were placed on the dirt floor.
	Wendy stared dull-eyed at both, then bent forward, moaning and
whimpering in pain, and began to slurp at the rice, licking it out
with her tongue and gulping it down desperately. When it was all gone
she licked at the bowl, then turned her attention to the water,
lapping and slurping that up as well. When she had finished she lay
back and fell almost instantly asleep.

	 Crane flew to Thailand the next morning, then checked into the Chez
Bangkok and waited impatiently in his room for the man he'd been told
would come and see him. According to the people he'd spoken to,
Thailand had no lack of people willing to do anything for a buck. The
place was a dumping ground for, among others, ex Vietnam war vets who
couldn't or wouldn't go home.
	There was a knock on the door and he nodded to Jasper, one of the
servants, who moved to it and opened it. The man there was hardly the
normal type of visitor to Alfred Crane's illustrious company,
nevertheless, Jasper let him in.
	Crane looked up at him appraisingly. The man was in his late forties.
He was wearing a very poorly made sports jacket over faded, torn
jeans. He was tall and thin, with too-long blonde hair and a day's
growth of beard. His eyes though, were cold and intelligent as he
instantly fixed them on Crane. He moved forward and sat down on the
thick, plush chair facing Crane.
	"You're Jefferson?" Crane asked.
	"Yeah."
	"You know what I want?"
	"Somebody's got your kid and you want her back."
	"Yes."
	"Not gonna be easy."
	"I'll pay whatever you ask."
	Jefferson looked offended.
	"You'll pay through the nose, but that ain't got nothin' to do with
whether I find this kid alive or not. There's a whole hell of a lot of
places she could be right now, including the bottom of the ocean,
which, you'll excuse me for sayin' it, is the most likely by far."
	"But if she's alive..."
	"Then she's most likely in Thailand somewhere. There's a good market
for white flesh here. Most of them are imported from overseas, whores
for the most part, sold by their owners in the states or Australia,
but nobody here is gonna quibble about how someone came to own a tight
white gash."
	"What?"
	"Nobody gives a shit whether she's here willingly. There's more
whores per-capita in Bangkok than anyplace in the world."
	"My daughter is not a whore!" Crane steamed.
	"She is now. If she's alive, she's alive as a whore. She ain't got no
choice in the matter. I don't care if she's a convent school virgin,
she's gonna be a whore now."
	"A woman who is raped is not a whore!" Crane snapped.
	"Raped? Shit..." Jefferson smiled tiredly and shook his head. "You
don't know how things work here, do you? Listen up, Crane, to these
people she's just a piece of merchandise. You know how they keep
themselves stockpiled in girl meat here? They mostly buy it, though
sometimes they steal it, usually when the girls are eight or younger.
These kids are brought up as whores and are as much slaves as niggers
in the old Louisiana plantation."
	"Wendy was not brought up as a whore."
	"Don't matter a damned. They take girls allatime. Sometimes it's just
that some slaver will run across some particularly good looking girl.
Sometimes some guy's enemy will grab his daughter and sell her. Then
there's the Vietnamese. They're just grabbed off the boats and sold as
is."
	"Why is this allowed to continue?"
	"Hell, this is a corrupt country, Crane. Besides which, girls just
aren't considered very important over here. That's why their parents
are willing to sell them for the equivalent of a few dollars.
	"The girls who are taken against their parents will... well, there's
a very strict moral code here. If you're not a virgin, you might as
well forget life, at least for an unmarried girl. All the slavers need
to do is rape a girl.
	"Once that's done, they can't return home because they're unclean.
They'd never find a husband if they did. Nobody would marry them, and
their parents would probably run them off or kill them. "
	"That's ludicrous!"
	"Yeah, I know. That's the way the rural folk and Vietnamese think
though. As for the city girls, they're not much better off. The
slavers put them through the mill for a few nights and then keep them
chained up. That's what's gonna happen to your kid."
	"What does "through the mill" mean?"
	Jefferson shrugged. 
	"It means that they get gang-raped for a while until their spirit's
broke. After that they'll do as they're told. If not, there are more
painful measures."

	Wendy wasn't allowed to sleep for long. Her captors didn't want her
to be particularly alert as they began her training. She was hauled
out of her cell after a few hours of exhausted sleep and then dragged
down the hall to a small room where several small oriental women
waited.
	She looked around numbly as the man who'd brought her handed her over
to the women. They were all about twenty and giggled as they looked at
Wendy, chatting to each other in their high-pitched voices. They
encircled her, cooing and clucking sympathetically as they unbound her
hands at last.
	The returning circulation caused her to sob with pain as she was led
across the room to a large tank, not unlike a crude bathtub. It was
filled with water and the girls pushed and pulled her until she
stepped gingerly into it.
	The water was warm and she sat down, grateful to have a chance to
wash off some of the smell she'd gotten in the last few days. She sat
down slowly, letting the water creep up over her hips and engulf her
to the belly button, wincing as her many cuts stung.
	The girls had been wearing small slip-like garments, but they
stripped naked now, appearing not the least shy or worried about it,
even in front of the man, who stood with his back against the door,
watching interestedly.
	One of them pulled Wendy's head back and then poured some soapy
smelling liquid into it. The other two knelt on either side of the
steel "tub" and began to pour more soapy stuff on her chest. Their
small yellow hands began to rub away at her chest, smearing the soap
around and around.
	Wendy winced in pain as the soap made her many cuts sting even more.
The girls continued to chat merrily to each other, now and then
directing some comment or other at an uncomprehending Wendy. She
didn't understand and didn't care. She was too content at getting a
bath to care about anything else. She had always liked baths.
	The girl behind her pressed her forward then, bending her far forward
until her face was underwater and her soapy hair was rinsed clean.
Then she was hauled back again for a second wash. Meanwhile the other
two continued their giggling, pulled her feet high out of the tub and
washed them and her legs almost to her crotch.	They'd found some
sponges and were using those to rinse the soap off. The girl behind
her shoved her head forward again, and again her hair was rinsed out.
Then they pulled at her arms until she stood up in the tub. They
murmured and cooed until she spread her legs apart and then they began
rubbing at her legs and inner thighs.
	The girl behind her was scrubbing her back and going down to rub soap
into her buttocks and in between her legs. Her little hand slid right
underneath Wendy, her soapy fingers sliding in and out between Wendy's
pussy lips.
	Again she winced in pain, for her pussy was the rawest part of her,
having been scoured raw by her multiple rapings. Yet she did not even
think to resist. The absence of punishment was all she sought, and
obedience was the most direct route.
	There was a low sort of table at the foot of the tub and when the
girls had finished soaping her and rinsing her off, they chatted and
cackled at her, pulling at her arms again until she leaned forward on
her knees and bent herself across the table.
	She was still in the tub and her bottom was sticking up in the air as
the girls spread her legs apart. Then she felt something at her pussy.
It felt like rubber or plastic.
	She turned to watch incuriously as a long, thin tube was pushed
gently into her pussy tunnel. She felt it slide deep up inside her.
Once it would go no further, the girl turned a knob and she felt the
flow of warm liquid as it moved into her pussy.
	She held still, glad to be free of new pain, though confused about
what was going on. She didn't like the hose in her pussy, but didn't
put up any resistance. The girls easily held her down. The flow of
liquid continued and grew greater, the liquid flooding down into her
and then bubbling back out of her pussy around the hose.		 The girl
slid the hose in and out a little, twisting it around inside her.
Whatever the liquid was, was very slippery. Wendy could feel her pussy
all slimy and oily from it. The girl behind her slid the hose back out
of her and then knelt down in the tube behind her.
	Wendy felt her fingers at her pussy, felt a finger wiggling easily
into her pussy tunnel through a coating of oily, perhaps soapy liquid.
The finger pumped in and out of her easily, not in a sexual manner at
all, more in a purposeful way.
	A second, then a third, then a fourth finger joined the first, the
girl kneeling Wendy's legs further apart. One of the other girls that
stood beside the tub knelt and pulled Wendy's right leg over so she
was more open. Wendy grunted as she felt the pressure against her
pussy lips increase.
They were pulled further and further apart by something large seeking
to enter her. She tried to jerk away but the two girls held her
tightly, cooing and patting her head  as the third pushed against her
tight opening.
	 It was her hand, Wendy realized. She was trying to fit her whole
hand into Wendy's pussy. Wendy accepted the knowledge without fear or
alarm, or even the kind of wonder she might once have felt.
	The little hand pushed harder, sliding through her pussy lips bit by
bit until the widest part with her heel and thumb, slid through and
then the hand narrowed, allowing the outraged, stretched out pussy
lips to close slightly.
	Wendy felt the girl's wrist inside her pussy entrance. Felt her
pussy-lips gripping tightly around the small wrist as the girl's hand
slid around in a slow circle inside her, twisting completely around,
then back again.  The girl twisted her hand back and forth inside
Wendy, her fingers still bunched together in the tight sheath of her
pussy tunnel.
	Then she slid her fingers into her heel one by one until her hand was
a tight little fist, a hard bony ball inside her, the knuckles digging
indentations in the malleable pussy walls. The girl slid her hand in
deeper then, shoving her fist deep into Wendy's belly as the other two
held her down.
	The girl's fist reached the deepest pit of Wendy's cunt-hole  and her
knuckles were pressed tightly against Wendy's cervix. The girl began
twisting her hand around then, twisting it fully around one way, then
back the other, then the other way.
	 Wendy had the odd notion of the girl cleaning out an old coffee cup,
shoving her hand inside and rubbing all around. The hand kept twisting
back and forth, then finally stopped. Then it began to slide out - but
only about six inches before sliding back in.
	The girl gave her a sly leer then as she began to slowly work her
fist in and out of Wendy's pussy as though she were matter-of-factly
cleaning her out. Her fist slid back and forth, back and forth, making
slow twisting motions as it moved.
    Then the girl's other hand reached under Wendy's slit and began to
rub against her clitty. THIS was not a casual thing. The little
fingers deftly manipulated the confused, tired girl's clitoris as she
pumped her fist in and out of the tightly stretched pussy.
	Bereft of inhibitions and in the first comfort it had felt in days,
Wendy's insides began to turn to mush. She closed her eyes slowly as
the pleasure mounted in her belly and gave off soft whimpers of joy.
	 The girl expertly worked the fist in and out of Wendy now, her
movements steady and slow, her fist sliding deeply into the blonde
girl's pussy-tunnel, then sliding all the way out until her fist
started to force the pussy-lips open further.	Her fingers alternated
between a deft caressing of Wendy's clit, grinding it between her
knuckles or nails, and simply pressing the clit against her wrist and
forearm as she pumped her hand back and forth. Wendy groaned into the
table top as her entire belly grew warm and charged with excitement.
    "Ahhhhhhhh..." she gasped. "Ooooohhhhh!" 
	Her breathing was coming in hurried pants and gasps.
	"Uhhnnnngg!! Ghhhhohhhddddd!" she panted. 
	She turned to look through bleary eyes as the girl thrust her fist
deep, and saw she had almost her entire forearm up within Wendy's
body. Wendy trembled, dark lust seeping through her tired mind, then
turned her head about to see the man staring at her with cold eyes, as
if evaluating his recent purchase.
	The girl increased the force of her pumping motions, her fist
pistoning back and forth in Wendy's small pussy tunnel, grinding and
mashing her tender flesh and hammering against her cervix.
	Her breath snorted out through her flared nostrils as her mouth
opened wide and her eyes shut tightly. Instinctively, her body began
to thrust her sex backwards, pushing back against the pumping fist.
She began to jerk and shake and tremble madly, her body going into
convulsions as the hard little fist inside her burned it's way into
her belly.
	"NNGHH! NNNG! UUUUUHH! UNGH! UNGH! UNGH! UNGH! UNGH!!!!" she grunted,
her body straining furiously, her head lashing from side to side and
then banging down against the table. Her loins thrust back feverishly
as her clitty sparkled and spat like a live electrical wire.
	Her vision clouded and her eyes rolled back in her head. She was
aware of nothing outside herself, only the pounding of her heart, the
roaring of her blood and beyond it the faint sound of the two Asian
girls giggling in amusement as her body twisted and shook and trembled
in the throes of orgiastic ecstasy.
	Then she collapsed, her eyes small slits, her mouth drooling onto the
table top. The two girls were still giggling merrily. One of them
patted her head as the other, the one behind her, slowly withdrew her
hand from Wendy's pussy. Wendy groaned as the hand slowly pulled free.
It was like giving birth as it spread her tortured pubic-lips even
wider than they now were before slipping free.
	Then her pussy and groin were washed off once more and she was
allowed to sit back in the tub again. They washed her once more, then
helped her stand shakily erect.
	None of the three came past her shoulders but they were all far
stronger than her, now anyway. She was as weak as a puppy as they
helped her out of the tub and across to a chair. She thumped down on
it as they dried her off and then began working on her hair.
	 One produced a blow-dryer and began to send hot air shooting through
her long, soaking tresses as she brushed them out. Exhausted and
bewildered, Wendy was glad for something familiar, visions of her time
at the sleek beauty salons of Europe appearing from nowhere.
	They manicured and pedicured her nails, which she was glad of since
she hadn't had them done since leaving home, then spread sweet
smelling oils on her body, making her sigh as she lay there barely
awake.

	Jackie Jefferson, or JJ as his friends knew him, moved easily through
the streets of Bangkok. He'd spent a lifetime in Southeast Asia,
starting with Vietnam, going through Cambodia and finishing up in
Thailand. He'd met few men he liked and few women he didn't.
	 He was a strange man to be trying to free a female whore who was
probably in the grip of one of the brothels. In fact, when he wasn't
working, which was usual, he could normally be found in one of
Bangkok's seamier bars or nightclubs, and had seldom gone a day
without a sleek, thin, sexy young girl in his bed, most of them bought
and paid for.
	And why not? Whores were cheap in Thailand. As long as you know who
and what to ask for, and didn't act like a damned tourist, you could
usually get em' for a couple of bucks. White girls, of course, cost
extra. Still, he knew more than a couple of guys who could supply them
on demand.
	First he recruited some help. He picked up Mickey Jorgenson and Danny
Sims at the Ball-Buster bar, then he began making the rounds of his
favourite brothels and whorehouses, looking for a new white girl for
sale. He didn't figure it'd be too difficult. After all, the old man
wanted her back. The people who had her wanted money. Shouldn't be too
difficult to arrange a trade.
	He carried his old Army colt under his left arm. He'd had to pay for
it when he reported it stolen years ago, but hadn't wanted to part
with it. He considered it a kind of talisman. After all, he'd killed
over twenty-five gooks with it. That had been when he'd been a tunnel
rat in 'nam.
    Mickey Jorgenson was a knife man. He had a wicked switchblade in
his pocket, two short throwing knives he kept up his sleeves, and a
foot long army commando knife on the back of his belt. Mickey was
nuts, in JJ's opinion, and in a lot of other people's minds too. In a
way, that made him worth having around. Nobody wanted to fuck with
him.
	Danny Sims didn't carry any weapons, but then he didn't need any. He
was another nut, as far as JJ was concerned, a real gung-ho Kung-Fu
nut. He could bust heads with a single blow. Of course being seven
feet tall helped in that regard. He was another intimidating looking
soul.
    When the three of them went around asking questions, few people
wanted to get them mad. Answers were easy in coming, but not very
helpful. Nobody had heard about a new white girl on the block. But
then, the auction wasn't for a couple of days. After that, the new
girl should appear in one of the higher class brothels.
	Wendy's hands were tightly bound in front of her in large metal
shackles. She shuffled along, the tallest, fairest skinned girl in
along line of naked, cuffed, shuffling females. The girls were being
herded slowly down a long narrow corridor. At the end, when she
finally reached it, her hands were raised above her head. There was a
bar there and hanging from the bar was a sharp hook, like a meat hook.
The chain holding her wrists together was slid across the hook, even
though it required the men there to lift her off her feet.
	She grunted in pain as the metal cuffs dug into her flesh, but did
not protest. Not only did she not speak their language, but she had
learned how little use and how much pain came from protesting
anything. She hung there unmoving, her lean, slender frame stretched
out by gravity.
	Her head was pushed forward between her arms and she had difficult
looking in any direction but down. Then the man standing there pushed
her forward. The hook slid along the bar and around a corner, then
downward into a noise and smoke filled room.
    The bar arched downward so she slid down it into the midst of a
crowd of men. She didn't stop until her body thumped into the naked
body of another girl in front of her. She blinked her eyes against the
harsh, bright light that lit up her naked white body.
	There were a lot of men moving around in front of and behind her but
she could only make out forms as her eyes narrowed to slits. She was
pushed along further, the bar moving deeper into the room and then
curving around against a wall.
	Now she hung unmoving, only a few inches away from the girl in front
of her. One by one the girls were turned on their hook until they
faced the men, who stared them up and down impartially and
unemotionally. Some made notes in little books, others talked
together, now and then motioning at one or another girl.
	Another naked girl slid into place on her other side and was turned
around, her dull eyes looking out at the crowd of men. A man moved
closer to Wendy and pinched her jaws, forcing them open. He looked
into her mouth as if he were inspecting a horse, then nodded and moved
away.
	There was a loud voice, one coming over a loudspeaker, it was
constantly talking, talking fast. Wendy couldn't see where it came
from at first. Slowly, she was moved along on the row of girls until
she found herself hanging in an even brighter light, looking out on a
row of yellow faces.
    The man who was doing the talking was standing next to her now. He
talked to the watchers, motioning constantly at Wendy. He slid his
hand up and down her belly as he talked, then cupped her right breast,
squeezing it lightly. His hand slid between her legs and cupped her
pussy.
	Then men in the crowd began shouting back at him, short, one syllable
words that Wendy knew must be bids. She was being auctioned off, she
realized, astonished at the very thought finally piercing the veil of
numbness which had lain across her mind for days.
	Rape she'd thought about, what girl hadn't? Being sold at some kind
of auction though, had never entered the dimmest reaches of her
imagination.

	"Look at all this fuckin' pussy," Sims grinned, shaking his head. 
	"Just keep your eyes open for the blonde bitch," JJ said.
	"Yeah, yeah. It'd be hard to miss her," Sims replied.    
	"All white chicks look the same to me," Mickey said, his black skin
glinting in the reflection from the overhead lights.
	"There ain't gonna be many white girls here," JJ said.
	"Whatever."
	"Lookit that little bitch there," Sims said, pointing at a young
teenage girl with huge breasts hanging from the rail.
	"You always were a tit man," Mickey said.
	"Fuckin A, man."
	"Look for a blonde while you're up there," JJ said.
	"You makin' fun of my height again?" Sims growled.
	"Yeah."
	"Fuck you, man."
	"And you too. Just keep your eyes open."
	"I don't see her."
	A new batch of girls started sliding down the rail then and the three
of them watched carefully. All were orientals.
	"I'm gettin' a boner," Sims said.
	"Keep it in your pants for Christ's sake."
	"You white boys," Mickey sighed, shaking his head.
	"Shit, I oughto buy one of these." Sims grinned.
	"For what? You can fuck any of em' you want for a couple of bucks."
	"Yeah, that's true. Wouldn't want to disappoint the rest of them."
	They stood around in the crowd for more than an hour, watching the
stream of girl flesh moving past. Finally Wendy appeared. JJ spotted
her first and nudged Sims, who turned his gaze away from the big
breasted girl then being sold.
	"Hey, man! That's fine stuff!" he sighed.
	"Yeah, bring a nice price," Mickey agreed.
	"Wouldn't mind buying that myself," Sims said.
	"She's white, asshole. She'd cost a fortune."
	"So? Imagine owning a white girl."
	"I do, all the time," Mickey smirked.
	"Fuck you, coon."
	"Eat me, pin-dick."
	"You two fuck-heads shut up," JJ glared.
	They followed her progress around the room until she came up to the
auctioneer.
	"See here this young white girl," the man said, sliding his handover
her belly. "See her fine smooth skin?  See how it shines? No blemishes
at all. She was raised in a fine family overseas. She has no family in
Asia and no known relatives... "
	"Lying little fuck," JJ muttered.
	"Almost a virgin, only fourteen years old with a clean, tight
love-hole and good solid breasts," the man lied.
	He tweaked her nipples then and stood away.
	"What am I bid for her?"
	Bids started coming from several areas of the floor, all from the
richer merchants. JJ moved into position to top the highest bid. This,
he thought to himself, could be the easiest money I ever made.
	Then a tall, bald headed Thai man wearing a five thousand dollar suit
pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He was surrounded by a dozen
men in sunglasses, all of them with bulges under their armpits.
	"Twenty-five thousand Baht," he said, his voice a low growl.
Instantly all other bids stopped. The auctioneer didn't hesitate at
all.
	"Sold to... uh, this gentleman, for twenty-five thousand Baht," he
said, his voice disappointed though eager.
	"Oh piss," JJ said.
	"Outbid him. That's only a thousand bucks," Sims said.
	"Are you nuts, tall boy?" Mickey hissed.
	"That's General Ho. We'd never get out of here alive if we outbid
him."
	JJ sighed. They watched as the girl was handed down to one of the
General's aides. She was walked out among the crowd, one of the
General's men on either side, holding an arm.
	The three of them followed at a distance, watching as the girl was
placed, still naked and cuffed, into the back of the General's
limousine. Then the big black car slid out through the open garage
door, followed by three others filled with bodyguards.
	"So that was Ho," Sims said. 
	"He's got balls coming to Bangkok like this."
	"And the little white girl's gonna feel em'." Mickey snickered. 
    "Fuck off, you moron," JJ snapped. "Shit! This would have been so
fuckin' easy if he hadn't showed up."
	"What we do now?"
	"I dunno. I ain't goin after that fucker unless we get more money,
though."
	"The Thai government's got a half million Baht reward on his head and
he's still walking around," Mickey replied.
	"The Thai government is a bunch of crooked assholes. I think we can
take him."
	   "Maybe," Mickey said, dubiously. "Better not wait long. Once he
gets back into the jungle he's got an army to protect him."
	"I know. I know."

	Wendy sat with her hands in her lap, looking down. The car moved
smoothly and quietly along through the packed streets. It was all so
incredible. It was as if this were some kind of everyday happening, as
if this went on everywhere.
	 She gasped as her hair was pulled and her head jerked up and back.
The big man beside her stared into her face, his own face a sneering
mask of contempt. He held her fluffy blonde hair with his left hand,
then slid his right up and down across her rounded breasts, then
shoved it down between her legs and stabbed two fingers into her
pussy.
	She grunted and strained against him, her legs opening as his fist
ground between her thighs. His fingers dug into her pussy flesh and
thrust far up inside her, then wiggled around inside her belly fora
moment before withdrawing. He let her hair go and sniffed in disdain.
	Wendy sat there, looking down again. Her hair and pussy hurt but she
didn't dare move to ease the pain. The car moved along for long
minutes, then turned in at a driveway and went through a tall gate and
in among trees and gardens before stopping before a large, comfortable
house.
	The man got out and slammed the door behind him. The car then drove
around behind the house and the door opened again. A man bent and
peered in, then motioned her out. She slid across and got out of the
car, then was led indoors.
	She moved along a deserted hallway, then stopped. The man touched
something at the wall and a section of wall slid away, revealing a
stairwell leading down. He inclined his head with a sharp jerk and she
started down. The stairs were all stone and were cold on her bare feet
as she padded down the dimly lit, narrow staircase.
	After about fifty stairs they finally reached bottom. The man pushed
her along an expensively furnished corridor. There were beautiful
paintings and antique chairs lining the oak walls. He led her to a
doorway, opened it, and shoved her inside.
	The door closed behind her and she saw she was in a small cell.
	The walls were stone, not fancy oak. There was a small cot with a
thin blanket. There was a hole in the corner which smelled badly.
There were rounded metal rings set into the walls at various places,
at the head of the bed, up high on one wall, in the corner by the
hole.
	She sat down on the cot and stared at the wall.

	"How much money do you want then?" Crane demanded.
	"Look Crane, I ain't trying to hold you up. This guy is a big time
drug lord. He's got thousands of soldiers in the jungle. We're gonna
have to take a hell of a risk to get her away from him."
	"I'll give you a million dollars."
	JJ blinked in surprise.
	"How much?"
	"You heard me. A million dollars when my daughter is returned home."
	"For that I'd steal Ho's own daughter."
	"And I want you to find the bastards that attacked my ship and kill
them."
	"What for? Oh, well, all right. I can subcontract that if you don't
mind."
	"I don't give a shit who does it, I just want them dead."
	"Shouldn't be too hard."
	"How long will it take you to get my daughter back?"
	"This week or never. Ho is supposed to be a real fuckin' sadist. If
half what they say about him is right she won't live more than a
week."
	"I want this Ho fucker dead too."
	"Whoa. That's gonna be hard. The Thai government's had a contract on
his head for years."
	"I'm not the fucking Thai government."
	"Okay, okay. I'll see who I can find. There's a few Vietnam nuts
still around. It'll cost you, though."
	"I don't care about money. I want that fucker."
	"You got it man."

	Wendy sat on the cot for a while, then she lay down for another
while. Everything was silent around her save for the sound of
machinery far away. The hours passed and she fell into a tired fitful
sleep.
	She jerked upright suddenly, wondering what had woken her. Then she
heard it again, a long terrible scream of agony. She shuddered at the
sound of it, hugging herself as she listened in fear. There was
another horrible scream, then another even louder, suddenly cut off in
the middle.
	Her eyes were wide as she stared at the door. Minutes passed, then
there was the sound of a bolt turning. The door opened and a blank
faced oriental man came in. He looked at her, then jerked his head
towards the door. She looked back at him in terror and didn't move.
	He frowned at her, then moved in further. He gripped her arm and
hauled her to her feet, then shoved her towards the door. He half
pushed, half pulled her along the corridor until they stopped at a set
of double doors. He knocked but there was no answer so he pushed one
of the doors open and shoved Wendy through.
	The room was empty but for the two of them. Wendy gazed around her in
growing fear as the man undid her handcuffs and then led her across to
a counter. There were thick leather and steel bands on the counter.
Each had a small metal ring sticking out from one side and a lock on
the other.
	He began to place them around Wendy's wrists and ankles, carefully
locking each into place and then tugging on the ring to make sure they
were set firmly. Wendy looked around the room at the various strangely
shaped articles there. It looked like a medieval torture chamber,
except for all the electronic devices.	There were chains, handcuffs
hanging from the ceiling, long tables with restraining devices, ropes
and pulleys and whips. The entire wall held wide metal rings set at
various places, and in the middle of the room was a metal table.
	 The table was about six feet long and three feet wide. It had
restraining cuffs at the corners and several metal arms that moved and
bent. There was a deep gutter set along the edges and red liquid lined
the bottom.
	Her wrists and ankles were now tightly encased in the leather bonds
and the man led her to the other side of the room where all the rings
lined the wall. He pushed her back up against the wall and spread her
arms and legs wide. Her wrists were snapped into rings high above her
head, and her ankles snapped into rings near the floor.
	 She was held in a straining X shape, unable to move even an inch.
The man nodded, his expression dour, then moved across the room and
went out, closing the door behind him. She stood there for long
minutes, shivering in the air-conditioned cool, her back even colder
against the stone.
	Then the door opened again. Another man came in. She recognized him
as the big man from the car. He wasn't wearing a suit now. He wore a
leather, well, Wendy didn't know what the hell it was. It was like a
G-string, all black and shiny.
	 But it didn't cover his cock, instead his cock stuck out through the
thing, pointing menacingly up at her. It seemed to be very tight as it
hugged his shaft near his balls and she surmised that it helped keep
his cock hard.
	His fat belly jiggled as he walked over and stood before her. His
eyes slid up and down her body and he nodded with a slight smile. She
looked back up at him fearfully.
	"American?" he said.
	"You... you speak English?"
	Her eyes widened in surprise at the familiar words.
	"Oh yes. I speak English." He smiled.
	"W-Will you... let me go?" she whispered.
	 He smirked. "You will be... free eventually."
	"My father is rich. He'll give you a lot of money."
	"I have more money than I can spend," he said.
	"What are you going to do with me?"
	He smiled again.
	"Can't you guess?"
	"You... you're going to rape me?"
	"I am going to kill you," he said simply. 
	Her eyes widened in shock.
	"Creatively of course, slowly, leisurely, painfully, until you beg
for death, until that pretty white body of yours is a bloody ruin."
	She gaped at him, unable to comprehend. At first she thought he must
be joking, a cruel sort of joke, but still a joke, but the look in his
eyes told her he was telling the truth.
	"B... but why?" she whispered.
	"Because it amuses me," he said as he smiled. "I get so few
amusements these days."
	His hand came up and he fondled her breast casually. "I will be slow.
I think I shall save the worst for a while yet. It will destroy your
beauty."
	He smiled again, his smile that of a madman. "Still, there are many
things I can do that will not detract from your loveliness."
	He moved away then and went over to a counter. There he picked up a
thick black metal rod about a foot and a half long. He moved back in
front of her as Wendy stared at the thing in fear. It didn't look
sharp, but it seemed to buzz somehow.
	"You will sing for me, my dear," he said with a cruel smile. 
	Wendy's eyes were glued to the tip of the slim metal rod as the man
moved it towards her goose-bump covered flesh. He pressed the end into
her right armpit and she felt it's coldness against her skin.
	She looked at him uncomprehendingly, then a flashing hot pain stabbed
her in the armpit. It tore into her chest with horrible, overwhelming
force, knocking her brain out of order with it's awful agony. She
cried out in startled shock, then agony, her body torn and whipped by
furious rippling pain.
	"Louder my dear," the man said, pulling the rod away and then
touching it to her right nipple. Her nipple screamed and burned, pain
searing into her breast, then into her chest.
	 Her body writhed and thrashed there against the wall, her buttocks
slapping and grinding against the cold stone, her head twisting and
flailing from side to side. Her scream was a high, warbling howl as
her body erupted in convulsions that threatened to tear her apart.
	He pulled the rod away and the pain almost instantly eased, then
disappeared but for a hot burning in her nipple. Her body stopped its
frantic thrashing and hung still, her chest rising and falling quickly
as she panted and gasped for breath.
	 "Such a sweet voice," he sighed, then touched the rod to her right
nipple.
	Again pain slammed into her like she'd hit a brick wall. Her body
shook violently as her voice gave cry to her agony. She shrieked and
howled against the firestorm of pain whipping through her.
	Her head slammed back against the wall over and over, almost knocking
her senseless. Her vision coloured over and she felt her heart giving
a lurch. Then the rod was pulled back and she hung there slackly
again, staring down at the floor.
	 "Very nice. Very nice indeed... for a start. Let's see what else you
can do."
	She didn't even look at him, but then felt the rod push against her
pussy. She had only enough time for her mind to cry out in denial
before the pain shot into her. Again her body shook furiously, her
limbs contorting against their bindings, her head jerking from side to
side, and her bottom slamming back into the wall with terrible
violence.
	 The pain ebbed and she hung still again. Her formerly cold body now
glistened with sweat and her hair dangled around her face in a mass of
sodden clumps. She felt the rod push against her pussy again, but it
wasn't followed by the pain, not right away.
	Instead it forced her pussy lips aside and pushed up into sheath. She
felt it drive up into her and knew at once what was coming. She tried
to brace herself but it was hopeless. Tears spilled from her eyes but
she could not gain enough control of her tongue to beg.
	The fat man forced it high into her belly, then her insides exploded.
	She felt like her internal organs were all whipping around inside
her, the pain was indescribable. She howled in agony, her body
thrashing maniacally as the pain rippled up and down her spine. Her
breathe caught in her lungs, almost stilling her shrieks, turning them
into a long stuttering gurgle.
	Her guts twisted and jerked and rolled in turmoil as the rod shot
it's terrible pain into her belly. The fat man simply stood there, a
twisted smile on his face as he watched her agony. Finally he pulled
it out of her and she hung limp, barely conscious.
	"Merely the start," he said. "Merely the slightest of starts for you
my pretty one."
	He put the rod down and bent forward, unfastening her ankle bands
from the rings, then rising and undoing the ones on her wrists. She
would have fallen, and indeed, did fall forward, but he bent and took
her belly across his right shoulder, then rose and carried her like a
sack of oats across the room.
	He threw her down on a wide table. Her head banged painfully into the
wood, sending stars to her eyes. Without hurry, he positioned her in
the center of the table and spread her arms straight out to her sides.
The ring on the leather cuffs clinked as they were locked into place.
	 Then he spread her legs wide, shoving her legs up and back, forcing
them out to either side of her torso as she groaned in pain. He shoved
her legs straight out to either side, parallelling the edge of the
table, then locked them into place there. Her thigh tendons strained
and pulled tightly, sending terrible pain into her groin.	 She did
nothing more than whimper however. The pain was almost nothing
compared to the horror she'd just gone through with the metal rod and
her body was still trembling and shaking from the aftereffects.
	He moved away, then came back holding something in his hands. She
blinked through her sweaty hair and saw that he held a pair of pliers.
He clicked them together as he smiled down at her. Then he pushed the
open teeth down at her sex. She braced herself for the terrible biting
pinch.
	Instead though, the pliers closed around one, just one, of her
tangled pussy hairs. He pulled back slowly, extending the hair to it's
limit. She winced in pain as the pressure mounted until finally the
hair was pulled loose.
	 The pliers descended again, seizing another hair, again pulling it
taut until it too pulled loose. Wendy bit her lip as he did it again,
then again, then again, each time pulling slowly on just one hair,
stretching out both the hair and the pain until the hair finally tore
loose.
	She began to cry, her tears flowing down the sides of her face, her
chest heaving through the deep, gut wrenching sobs of misery. Her sobs
were interspersed by short sharp cries of denial and pain as each new
hair was pulled and then jerked loose.
	She had no idea how long it went on. He seemed to have infinite
patience, and unending fascination for causing her pain. When he was
finished, or bored, her entire crotch was a livid red mass of pain.
Her pussy didn't look any different either. He'd probably only pulled
out a hundred or so and there were plenty left for his future
amusement.
	Then he bent over the moaning girl. She looked up to see his mouth
descending onto her still burning right nipple. His tongue came out, a
long wide wet pink strip. He licked slowly across the center of her
breast, right over the nipple.
    He licked several times, then closed his lips over her nipple and
suckled gently like a baby. His other hand came down around her left
breast, squeezing and kneading the soft, pain filled flesh. He lay
half atop her for long minutes, suckling, just suckling and running
his tongue over her wounded right nipple.
	He finally pulled back, then placed his cock against her sex and
drove into her. He buried his cock-pole in her tight pussy-tunnel,
then began to slowly fuck her.
	He was in no hurry and did not seem particularly aroused. His cock
slid back and forth inside her lower belly as his hands caressed the
flesh of her belly and chest.	He encircled her breasts with his
fingers and squeezed the malleable meat together, plumping the twin
mammaries up into little mushroom shaped balls of flesh. His cock
moved in and out of her in slow but full strokes, using up every inch
of pussy-tunnel and cock.
	His face was calm and relaxed as he fucked her and Wendy lay therein
pain and wondered what kind of a man he was and how she could get him
to stop hurting her and just fuck her. It was amazing to her that she
was even thinking like that, not worried at all about him fucking her
any way he wanted.
	All she cared about was not being hurt anymore. If she'd been free
and he'd wanted her to, she'd have shown him all the eagerness of a
demented sex-starved nymphomaniac, anything to keep him happy just
fucking her.
	His cock pumped into her for a long time without him cumming. She
wondered if the leather thing around the base had anything to do with
that. Her pussy started to lubricate in response to the steady
fucking, and her juices eased his passage and coated his prick.
	"I am your master," he said. "Do you understand? You belong to me."

	He slapped her face.
	"Say, yes Master."
	"Yes Master,"  she whispered.
	His cock continued to slide easily in and out of her small pussy.
	"You like me to fuck you, don't you?"
	"Yes Master."
	"Maybe I'll have all my men fuck you. Would you like that?"
	"Yes master," she whimpered.
	"You are a piece of dirt. You are a cheap American slut! Aren't you?"
	"Yes master," she sobbed.
	He pulled his cock free of her pussy then and stood back. It was
still hard and bounced up and down as he backed away. He moved across
the room to a shelf and pulled out a belt. It was long and wide. He
doubled it and moved back to her.
	She stared at the belt, anxiously.
	He moved into place beside the table, looking down at her splayed
legs and wide open crotch. "You must be punished then." He smiled.
	 He raised his right hand into the air and brought it down, the belt
whirling through the air and cracking down against her mons. She
howled in pain, her loins bucking and jerking on the hard table. He
raised it again and again brought it lashing down to strike directly
against her soft pussy.
	She shrieked and cried out in pain, her head lashing from side to
side as she pulled mindlessly at the bindings holding her in place.
Her legs sought desperately to close, jerking spastically, her muscles
clenching and unclenching.
	"Do you think this is pain?" he chortled. "Wait until you taste the
crop and the whip, slut."
	Again and again the belt lashed down against the center of her groin,
cracking against her slit and pubic-lips with cruel, brutal force. By
the time he stopped her pussy was  nothing but a flaring, throbbing
pain that burned relentlessly.
	He put the belt down and then drove his cock between her tortured
pussy-lips, filling her sex with it's rubbery hardness. He began to
stroke again as he had before, his cock sliding in and out of her
ravaged lips with slow easy movements.
	Wendy felt his hard erection up high inside her belly as it pumped in
and out. The fat man's fingers were roaming over her, squeezing and
fondling her breasts, fingers digging deep furrows in her fleshy
malleable meat.
	His cock slid in and out of her parted pussy lips. Ho had no thoughts
of giving her pleasure of course, but her body was built with this in
mind, and her mind, was a dazed, bleary muddle, unable to constrain
her body's natural reactions to the pleasure of Ho's sawing prick
shaft.
	Her pussy, a burning mass of tortured nerve endings, absorbed this
new feeling, these new sensations, slowly, as if reluctant to open
itself to what might be new pain. But her clitty, despite the beatings
of the cruel belt, began to awake with the steady stroking of his high
speed prick.
	She groaned, the groan not different from the many that had proceeded
it, but signalling something new. Her body was heating up, igniting in
sexual fervour as Ho continued to fuck down into her. Her throbbing,
pain-filled breasts began to swell with pleasure.
	Her eyes, narrow slits, peered down the length of her body at her
splayed legs and her vulnerable pussy opening. She watched his thick
yellow cock driving in and out of her body, her eyes glued to her
entrance as she watched herself being stabbed repeatedly by the man's
hard erect organ.
	Ho was groaning with pleasure himself, and when the girls' groans
increased, he recognized the tenor. At first he was angry, but then he
felt proud that even through her pain, his mighty prong had aroused
her. He sneered down at the naked teen, hammering his cock down into
her wet, rubbery sex.
	"Whore!" he hissed, throwing his hips forward cruelly. "Slut!" he
shouted, pounding his hard yellow staff down her silky tube.
	His hands enveloped her breasts, crushing the aching meat between his
fingers. Soft pliable flesh oozed out between his fingers as he fucked
harder into the body before him. He grunted in time as he changed the
speed of his strokes.
	He pulled back slowly, then held for but a moment, just the head of
his sceptre inside her, then threw all his weight forward, driving his
hardness deep into her belly with a terrible, brutal thrust that made
her cry out in pain.
	He drew back again and repeated the act, then again, and again, each
time rocking the table with the force of his thrust, each time making
her breasts bounce and jiggle as she grunted and groaned.
	His excitement mounted and he began rutting into her with a flurry of
desperate strokes. Then the girl moaned and began babbling
deliriously. She jerked against the bindings, trying to push herself
back at him. Her mouth opened wide and she arched her back as she
jerked and convulsed in pleasure.
	Ho drove his pole up into her with vicious power and felt his balls
blowing, felt the wads of cum juice flying down his tube and shooting
out the end and into her silky depths. He sighed in relief, yet
narrowed his eyes as he leered down at her. His cock was still hard
and he intended to continue until the girl gave out.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+