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Swish,
Thwack!
Thwack! The
second blow lashed her upper thigh raising a welt almost as large as the
first. “That’s it,”
approved Fujima, “A few more like
that.”
Thwack! The
third blow crisscrossed the first weal.
Larra gasped in pain. She
was completely helpless. Her
statuesque body was stripped naked.
Her wrists had been tied in front of her with coarse hemp rope and
then lifted up, over and behind her head.
From there a length of hemp fiber stretched from her wrists down her
back, passing between her tight buttocks and then cruelly between the lips
of her labia and up between her heavy breasts to her neck
again. Another rope had been
tied to her wrists and thrown over the overhanging branch of a leafless
tree. It had been pulled tight
and tied to the trunk, forcing her onto the tips of her
toes. The arrangement left her
body arched and completely vulnerable to the beating she was now
receiving.
Thwack!
Larra almost squealed in painful
surprise. That blow had come
from the front. A second man
standing to her side was using the same sort of willow switch and had delivered
a blow to the front of her thighs.
The next blow came from behind, striking the middle of her perfect
back. Then she received a blow
across her midriff. After that
the blows alternated, front and back.
Other than that there was no pattern to
them. They struck both high and
low, from her shapely calves and rounded thighs to her perfect
breasts. Each blow in itself
was not particularly hard. The
willow wands rarely broke the skin, but offered stinging pain each time they
made contact. And they never
seemed to stop.
Thwack!
“Twenty,” thought
Larra.
Thwack!
“Twenty-one.”
Thwack!
“Thirty!…
Thirty-one…Forty!”
Larra gritted her teeth. How
much longer would they keep this up?
Her breathing now came in ragged gasps, and her body dripped perspiration
in the cool autumn air.
“OHH!” That stroke had caught her across
her erect nipples, sending an excruciating jolt of pain through her swaying
breasts. Her torturers noted
her response. It was the first
indication that she had given that she was experiencing any
discomfort. After that they targeted
her breasts, attempting to elicit the same
reaction.
At the 53rd stroke Larra
whimpered. The pain seemed to
rise in her like water overflowing a
well. She couldn’t hold
out much longer. The suffering
she experienced was becoming all consuming, blotting out everything around
her. Desperately, she tried to
find a way out of her predicament.
She reached deep within herself.
Drawing on the hidden reserve of strength that had served her so well
in the past. Slowly she blotted
out all external stimuli, forcing herself to
relax. It was something she had
done before under equally trying circumstances, a desperation move when she
judged that her situation was hopeless.
In the trance-like state she would be free from all pain, barely aware
of her surroundings, but she would also be unable to escape should any
opportunity present itself.
At first Major Fujima did not notice what she had
done. He continued to watch as
his underlings bloodied the helpless
adventurer. Rivulets of blood
were now flowing down her body from the cuts where her torturers had struck
a little too hard. In a short
time she was bleeding so profusely that it looked as if someone had thrown
a bucket of red paint over her.
Finally, he noticed that she was not moving.
“Damn,” he exclaimed.
“The European bitch has
fainted. Cut her down and revive
her.”
His men jumped to do his bidding.
One of them , the medical orderly came running over to
him. He bowed respectfully.
Fujima grunted, indicating that
the man should speak.
“Honorable Major. The white
woman has not fainted. It is
something more. We cannot wake
her up.”
Fujima frowned his displeasure.
Pushing the orderly aside he went over to
investigate. It was as the orderly
had said. The foreign bitch’s
breathing was very shallow. Perhaps
he had overestimated her ability to withstand
punishment. That was a shame,
he would liked to have tortured her a bit
longer. He drew his pistol and
pointed it at her head. Might
as well get rid of her now. His
finger tightened on the trigger.
“Honorable Major,” wait!”
It was Lieutenant Takei.
Fujima scowled at the man.
If the lieutenant had not been from a high-born family he would have
struck him.
“I do not think that the foreign she-devil has
fainted. It appears that she
may have placed herself in a state of deep
meditation.”
“How can that be so?” Fujima replied,
doubtfully. “That is an
Asian art. Westerners do not
know of it.”
“Nevertheless, I think that is the
case. Note the position of her
body and her controlled breathing.”
Fujima took a closer look. Then
he crouched beside the body of the unconscious
heroine. He gestured to the
orderly. “Hold her nose
and mouth shut. We will see if
that elicits any response.”
The orderly hurried to do as he was told.
He pinched Larra’s nose closed and clamped his hand over her
mouth. For a full minute nothing
happened. Her breathing seemed
to stop altogether. Then her
chest began to heave as she sought to take in
air. Her body twisted and her
head turned as she tried unconsciously to keep from
smothering. Then suddenly, he
eyes fluttered and popped wide open.
With a powerful jerk, she wrenched her mouth free of the orderly's
hand and she took in great gulps of air.
Larra looked wildly around her. For
a few seconds she did not remember what had happened, then the pain of her
flogging and the sight of the Japanese soldiers around her reminded her of
her predicament.
Fujima seemed to be studying her, his narrow eyes almost disappearing as
he squinted in concentration.
“You are full of surprises,
He turned to Lieutenant Takei.
“Take her over to the hitching post and tie her legs to the top
of it. I think we should target
a different part of her anatomy.”
Larra groaned slightly as the soldiers laid hold of
her. A few feet away was a low
slung building with a wooden hitching rail for horses in
front. The soldiers dragged her
across the ground; her arms still bound cruelly behind her
neck. She almost screamed as
her lacerated back was dragged through the dirt and small stones of the
road. When they reached the hitching
post one man took each of her long, shapely legs and spread them as far apart
as possible. Using the same sort
of coarse rope that bound her arms, they lashed her ankles to the far end
of the hitching post. Then they
raised her body and roped her thighs to the top of the rail, so that her
legs were spread-eagled on top of the horizontal wooden
rail.
Larra suppressed a moan. She
was painfully bound in an extremely exposed
position. Her previous situation
had been frightening enough, but this was even
worse.
Fujima nodded.
“Continue,” he ordered.
Larra whimpered slightly as the willow wand cut into the inside of her thigh,
cutting into the tender flesh and raising a large
welt. Another blow landed next
to the first. She clenched her
teeth against the pain, but she could not hold out for
long. The willow wands came down
again and again, turning the soft sensitive flesh of her inner thighs into
a bloody mass of pain.
She endured until the 43rd
blow. Then, she
screamed. It was a long rending
shriek, born of terrible pain and complete
hopelessness. Fujima
smiled. It was a sound he had
long been looking forward to. But
the beating did not stop. It
continued until she was screaming
continuously. Blood flowed from
her legs to her belly and then across her quivering breasts and onto the
ground.
By now she would have told her inquisitors anything they wanted to
know. Unfortunately, she had
already told them everything she knew.
Since she was not withholding any information, there was nothing she
could say that would make them stop beating
her.
Suddenly, the beating stopped. It
took Larra a few seconds to fathom that she was no longer being
whipped. Major Fujima approached
her. “Are you ready to answer
our questions? My men are a little
tired, but I have others to replace them.
We can keep this up for hours if we
wish.”
Nearly fainting from the pain, Larra was unable to
reply. “I will let you think
about it for a few minutes,” said
Fujima “Then we will
continue.”
Strangely, Larra’s thoughts drifted back to the origins of her present
situation. After her emotionally
and physically exhausting adventure in
Lord Takeda had been most impressed with the three women who
respectfully presented themselves
to him. Unlike most Japanese,
he was willing to accept new attitudes toward the place of women in society;
even to the point of allowing them to engage in activities traditionally
reserved for men. He regarded
the trio of beauties who had prostrated themselves before him as prefect
specimens of their race.
Like Larra, Katie Reddel and Amy Price had presented themselves to him in
traditional Japanese costume. And
like Larra both women featured spectacular breast development especially
in Katie’s case. The stately
honey blonde stood five feet seven inches tall and weighed in at about 140
pounds. Larger in the bust than
Larra, her figure was astonishing by any
standards. She had gained several
pounds of muscle since meeting Larra and undertaking a vigorous training
routine. American born, she carried
herself with an air of authority that was greatly aided by the almost perfect
features of her beautiful face.
Amy was of a more slender build than either of the other two
women. Still her five foot nine
inch frame packed 130 pounds of muscle spread over a magnificent
physique. She had gained about
10 pounds since undergoing Larra’s stringent exercise and martial arts
training regime. Her most striking
features were her amazing green eyes and waist length blazing red
hair.
Each woman on her own would have been a vision of perfect
femininity. Together they turned
heads everywhere they went. It
was difficult for most men to make up his mind as to which one to focus
on.
Part of Larra’s reason for bringing the two women with her to Japan
was that she had taught them about as much as she
could. They now needed the
accumulated wisdom of her old master to finish their
training.
Lord Takeda had granted Larra’s
request. He had undertaken the
training of Larra’s two colleagues.
For six months they had trained assiduously under Lord Takeda’s
skilled tutelage. During that
time period all three women had recuperated from their brutal ordeal in
She immediately went to Lord Takeda with her
discovery. Presenting herself
to her sensei she prostrated herself before
him. “Rise my child,”
he said. “Sit by
me.” He clapped his hands
and a young woman wearing a kimono
entered. “Bring us
tea.” He turned to
Larra. “Show me what you
have found.”
Larra presented him with the copy she had made of the document she had
found. The archivist at the palace
would not permit the removal of the original.
Lord Takeda perused Larra’s copy.
“Much of this is in Mandarin.
Can you read it?”
“Yes, sensei,” Larra replied. “Would you like me to
translate?”
Lord Takeda nodded.
“It is a document that was discovered in
“And you would like to search for this tomb without waiting for your
friends to complete their training?”
“Yes, I would like to leave them
here. They have been through
quite a bit. I would entrust
them to your care.”
“And what of you? Did you
not suffer as they did?”
“I am stronger than they are.
I have recovered.”
Larra cast her eyes down.
Lord Takeda looked directly at her.
“I do not think you are as strong as you
believe. But I see that your
mind is made up. I will care
for your friends. They are promising
students. Your initial training
of them was excellent.”
Larra found herself blushing at this unexpected
praise. But she was most gratified
that Lord Takeda had given his consent.
“I thank you my lord,” she
replied. A month later she was
in Japanese-occupied
Larra had left her son, James in the care of her maid
Sarah. The attractive African
woman had been with James since he was born and she was like a second mother
to him. Larra knew that she would
miss her son, but did not expect to be away for more than about six
months. And so she set off alone
with only a letter of introduction from Lord Takeda to help her on her way.
All went well until she neared the border with
“This letter from Lord Takeda only protects you from those who are willing
to accept it. You should understand
that Lord Takeda is accorded great honor among most of his
countrymen. But the officer in
Guyang is Colonel Hondo. He regards
Lord Takeda as his enemy. You
may find that you do not get a friendly reception in
Guyang.”
Larra had thanked the officer for his advice, but she had come too far to
turn back so close to the Mongolian
border. She pressed on to
Guyang. Just outside the town
she ran into another checkpoint.
She was met there by Major Fujima.
He inspected her letter carefully.
“I cannot accept this without authorization from my
superior. Will you please excuse
me the time needed to contact him by
phone?” He bowed low as
he said this.
Larra realized that this was a rhetorical question, but nevertheless consented
graciously. Major Fujima
went into a small building and cranked on the
phone. He spent some time conversing
with his superior officer; an entire hour in
fact. Larra wondered what could
require such detailed discussion.
Eventually Fujima emerged from the telephone
hut. “You may proceed, but
I will have to take you to see my
superior. Please allow me to
escort you.” Fujima was
all politeness and smiles, but there was something about his manner that
Larra found slightly disturbing.
She did not, however, have much choice, so she climbed into his staff
car for the ride to his headquarters.
The ride lasted only about ten minutes.
They got out of the car in front of a rather rundown rural compound
of the type common in
Larra felt slightly disturbed at this
request. To hand over her sidearm
would leave her defenseless, but she decided that she was already in too
deep to back out now by refusing.
Fujima might interpret such a refusal as an act of defiance and she
was in the middle of hundreds of Japanese soldiers under his
command. Reluctantly, she drew
her Browning .45 and handed it to the
Major. He bowed again
“Domo
arigato,
Stepping aside, Fujima ushered her into the
courtyard. Inside, Larra’s
stomach knotted in fear. There
were over a dozen armed Japanese soldiers in the courtyard, and they all
held rifles pointed directly at her!
Larra whirled to find Fujima pointing her own pistol at
her. “You have been most
cooperative so far
What Fujima saw was a stunningly attractive white woman dressed in a khaki
shirt and pants. She wore a fur-lined
leather jacket as protection against the chill October air and fashionable,
but functional black boots. On
her head was a slouch hat. Her
long hair was contained in a long braid that hung down the center of her
back to her waist. Her eyes were
a stunning violet, something that Fujima had never observed in a
woman. High, almost Asian cheekbones
and a perfect straight nose above full, pouting lips, completed a picture
of exotic beauty. Fujima began
to formulate a cruel plan for this tall, overconfident
female.
Fujima gestured again with the Browning.
“Please remove your jacket.
I would like to ascertain that you are not concealing anything
there.” Larra lowered her
arms and shucked the jacket loose.
It fell in a heap at her feet.
“Please keep your hands up,” Fujima
cautioned.
“Is this necessary?” Larra
asked. “I am not your
enemy. I was born in
“Silence,” Fujima ordered.
“I do not take orders from a
woman. You should learn your
place. Now do as you are told
or you will be severely punished.”
He gestured with the Browning again and Larra slowly raised her hands,
aware of the fact that her prominent breasts were even more strongly accentuated
by this position. She could see
Fujiya’s eyes fixing on them.
“Remove her belt.” ordered Fujima, and one of the soldiers came
forward and unbuckled Larra’s gunbelt, taking her bowie knife with it
as well.
Larra wondered what this was all about.
She now comprehended that she was in serious trouble, but she was
not sure why. Could it be that
this was all part of the feud between Lord Takeda and Colonel
Hondo?
“Take off your shirt,
“You do me a great dishonour,” Larra replied
defiantly. “I will not do
such a thing. Where is your superior
officer? I demand that I be taken
to see him.”
Fujima laughed grimly. “I
suggest you do as I ask,
“I cannot believe that an officer of Imperial Japan would order a woman
under the protection of Lord Takeda to
strip. I refuse to
obey.” Larra doubted that
Fujima would order her to be shot.
If he had wanted her dead he would have done that long
ago. Perhaps she could bluff
her way out of this.
Fujima lowered the barrel of the Browning toward Larra’s
legs. “Do it or I will shoot
you in the thigh.” Larra
could see his finger actually tightening on the
trigger.
“Alright,” she said, moving her hands to the top button of her
shirt. Acutely embarrassed, Larra
fumbled with the buttons on her heavy cotton
shirt. One by one they were undone,
slowly revealing her torso.
Eventually she finished and was forced to drop her shirt to the
ground. All that
she wore above her narrow waist was a light cotton
undershirt. In the cold October
air, Larra could feel her nipples
puckering. A blush slowly suffused
her neck and face.
“
Turning to one of the soldiers he waved the Browning toward her
again. “Tie her wrists in
front.”
The soldier advanced and took Larra’s left wrist in
his. Quickly he looped a length
of coarse hemp rope about it and then lashed it tightly to her right
wrist. Larra clenched her fists,
attempting to enlarge her wrists slightly so that she might be able to work
the rope loose later. The soldier,
however, did a very good job, looping the rope about her wrists several times
and each time pulling the rope tight.
It would be difficult to work that rope
loose.
“At least they are tied in front,” thought
Larra. “I should be able
to work them loose eventually.”
That happy thought proved short-lived,
however.
“Get on your knees,
Larra did as she was ordered, dropping to the floor of the compound with
her bound hands in front of her.
Fujima himself, now took charge.
He had something special in the way of bondage planned for
her.
Larra was dismayed when Fujima seized her bound wrists and pulled them over
her head and then forced her hands behind her
head. Taking a short length of
rope he tied her wrists to her neck, so that she could not move them from
behind her head without tightening the rope about her
throat. The coarse hemp rope
chaffed against the delicate skin of her graceful
neck.
“Hold her in that position,” ordered
Fujima. Two soldiers came up
and took hold of Larra’s arms, holding her in the kneeling
position.
Larra felt her temper rising.
“What the Hell do you think you are doing?” she demanded,
“I am under the protection of Lord
Takeda. I have the sanction of
the Japanese imperial government.
You have no right to treat me like
this!”
Fujima struck her heavily across the
face. “Wrong response,”
Larra thought. Indignation was not going to get her out of this
situation.
She tried a different tack.
“What do you want of
me?” Why have I been tied
like this?”
Fujima struck her again. He did
not like the attitude of this arrogant white woman. “I will ask the
questions,” he replied and he slapped her
again.
Larra tasted blood where the inside of her mouth had been cut by being forced
against her teeth. She was beginning
to suspect that Fujima simply wanted to torment her and had no real questions
to ask. She tried
submissiveness. “I will
answer your questions. What do
you wish to know?”
Fujima smiled. The foreign bitch
was learning some manners. He
had no idea how she had managed to obtain such influence with Lord Takeda,
but Colonel Hondo had assured him that if he treated her as a spy his actions
would be fully appropriate. Since
Fujima hated and despised Europeans on principle, he did not need much
encouragement to treat them as cruelly as he
could.
Fujima seized Larra’s long braid, pulling her head back so that she
was forced to look up at him. A
small trickle of blood oozed from her bruised
lips. “I want the truth
from you this time. Why have
you come here?”
Larra gave the same answer that was supplied by the information in Lord
Takeda’s letter. “I
am on an archeological expedition to
This time Fujima struck her with his fist, the blow landing just below her
eye. Larra had expected it, and
although it snapped her head back viciously, she did not cry
out.
“Answer me truthfully this time,” shouted
Takeda. “Why are you
here?”
“I am telling you the truth. I
cannot answer any other way,” Larra
protested.
Instead of striking her, Fujima gripped her by the throat, squeezing so hard
that he bruised the elegant flesh.
“Your story is ridiculous.
You are a white woman in a
Larra did not answer. She knew
that nothing she said would satisfy
Fujima.
Fujima let go of her throat and hair.
“If you will not answer then we shall have to find a way to make
you more cooperative.”
Reaching down Fujima took the front of Larra’s filmy undershirt in his
hands and slowly ripped it in half.
Her heavy breasts, only half covered by her brassiere, were now open
to the cold Manchurian air. Pulling
hard on what was left of her undergarment, he tore the tattered fragments
from her body and let it fall to the
ground. Fujima stepped back to
admire his handiwork.
Still held by two of Fujima’s soldiers, Larra remained on her
knees. Her breasts rose and fell
majestically, thrusting half out of her bra. Already, her arms, forced awkwardly
behind her neck, ached from the contrived
position. Fujima licked his lips,
anticipating what he planned for her.
“Lift her up,” he ordered.
The two soldiers dragged her to her feet.
Fujima pointed to two other
soldiers. “Take off her
boots and pants.”
Larra tried to break free of the two men holding her, but they were expecting
such an attempt and held her fast despite her vigorous
struggles. As the other two soldiers
closed in she tried to kick them, but the awkward position of her arms and
the grip of the two soldiers made any coordinated effort
impossible. Her breasts bounced
erotically, almost flying out of her bra as she heaved her body against their
restraining arms.
Larra almost wept with despair as her boots and socks were yanked off, followed
by her trousers. Only her bra
and panties afforded her any privacy from the obscene stares of the Japanese
soldiers. “Put her on her
knees again,” said Fujima.
As her almost nude body was pushed to the ground, Fujima crouched on the
ground with her. Taking his time,
Fujima ran his hands over the gorgeous dark-haired beauty’s
body. Approaching her breasts
from below, he ran his thumb under the cups of her brassiere, and lifted
the garment from her quivering breasts.
As Larra’s pink tipped demi-globes
fell free, he tightened his grip of the material of her bra and tore it from
her body. Then he moved his hands
down to the thin gauze of her panties.
The filmy material was so translucent that every detail of her public
area was clearly visible. With
a quick tug he tore the remaining garment from her
loins.
Fujima stood up. He had another
length of rope in his hands.
Stepping behind her, he tied it to her wrists and then pulled it hard
down to her bare buttocks. As
her wrists were pulled down, Larra was forced to arch her back thrusting
her prominent breasts even farther out in front of
her. Then Fujima ran the coarse
hemp rope between the moons of her sensitive buttocks and brought it up the
front, parting her labia with it as he pulled it as tight as he could before
tying it around her neck. Larra
gasped as the bristles of the coarse cut into the soft flesh of her derriere
and her vagina.
“Take her outside,” Fujima
commanded.
The cold October air flowed over her skin, but Larra was sweating
profusely. With each step the
coarse hemp rope cut into her vagina and rasped into the flesh of her
buttocks. The soldiers dragged
her to an open area outside the compound.
In the middle of the open space was an ancient tree, long since dead,
but still standing leafless and gaunt.
Fujima was carrying another length of
rope. He tossed it over an upper
branch of the tree so that it hung down both sides of the
branch. Larra could guess what
was about to happen, and she redoubled her futile efforts to
escape. Ignoring her struggles,
Fujima tied one end of the rope to her wrists, which were still secured behind
her neck. Then, grabbing the
free end of the rope he pulled it taut forcing her up on her
toes. He tied the free end of
the rope to the tree truck so that she was required to remain in that
position. And then he stepped
back to admire his efforts.
After a few seconds, Fujima went over to a large willow tree and cut off
a few of the branches. He purposely
chose light thin withes. He wanted
to inflict maximum pain with minimum
damage. He had other plans for
that extraordinary body and he did not want her
mutilated.
Handing out the withes to two of his soldiers he stepped back to watch and
the beating began.
Larra slowly drifted back to
reality. In recalling her predicament
she had gone into a sort of trance that freed her from the pain of her
dilemma. But now she felt hands
loosening her legs. One of the
soldiers was untying her from the hitching
post. Rough hands seized her
and pulled her to her feet. She
stood in front of Fujima, supported by the two soldiers that held
her. She could no longer stand
on her own.
Fujima was speaking to her again.
“Have you reconsidered
Larra looked at him through half-closed
eyes. She was having trouble
focusing on what he was saying. His
voice seemed to come from the top of a well, and she was at the
bottom. Larra saw Fujima grimace
angrily. “Wake up you white
bitch!” His hand slapped
her hard across the right side of her
face.
The blow snapped her back to reality.
Suddenly she was aware of the biting pain of the coarse rope that
was cutting into her vagina, and the agony of the bloody welts that covered
her body. With a faint groan
she straightened her legs, trying to relieve the biting tension of the
rope. The movement sent waves
of pain through her body.
Fujima slapped her again, this time with his right hand, catching her on
top of the bruise on her left cheek.
Larra gave a gasp of pain.
“Are you awake now?
Answer my questions!”
For all his talk about having as much time as he needed, Fujima was not a
patient man. He was becoming
irritated at what he took for stubborn resistance on Larra’s
part. He wanted answers
now.
“Tell me what you know!” he insisted.
Larra made no response. What
could she say? Any reply she
gave would either be a lie or would probably infuriate Fujima even
more.
Fujima seemed to lose control. He
rained several open-handed slaps on her already battered face, and then balling
his hands into fists drove his knuckles into her exposed
belly.
Larra struggled for breath. His
surprise punch had knocked the breath out of
her. She wanted to double up
in pain, but the men restraining her prevented
it. All she could do was gasp,
attempting to draw air into her lungs.
Fujima cursed. “Resume the
beating,” he ordered.
The two soldiers holding her dragged her over to the tree and tied her in
place again. Then they picked
up the willow withes. Unable
to sand, Larra slumped in helpless agony waiting for her painful ordeal to
begin once more. And then a shot
rang out. And then another
shot. And then an entire
fusillade. Bullets ripped the
open area where Larra’s body was
displayed. The flying lead came
from all directions mowing down the assembled Japanese
solders. Panicking, the remaining
soldiers took refuge in the inner compound of the
farmhouse. Somehow, Fujima managed
to be one of them, running faster than the majority of his
men.
From all sides came the sounds of galloping
horses. Firing as they came,
a dozen or more Mongol warriors swept into the
farmyard. One of them, a huge
man riding a giant black stallion, thundered up to
Larra. In his right arm he held
a curved sword. A quick sweep
of the sword severed the ropes suspending her from the tree, and then reaching
down with his other hand, he swept Larra up and across the stallion’s
neck. Wheeling the horse around
he spurred it away from the return fire that was now coming from the
farmhouse. Within a few seconds
the powerful animal had carried them safely away from the area of
danger.
Larra bounced along on the stallion’s shoulders, held in place by the
powerful Mongol warrior who had rescued
her. The entire episode was a
confused blur to her. She was
barely aware of what was happening.
She only knew that she was being subjected to a jarring ride that
further aggravated her injuries and pounded her cruelly bound body with every
stride the powerful animal took.
Her head began to swim and black spots danced before her eyes as she
slowly fell into the sweet and relieving realm of
unconsciousness.