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Episode
II Return of the Dragon
Vayasha strained frantically at the bonds
about her wrists. She had to
escape; her sister was about to be raped and there was no one else to save
her. But the pirates had done
their work well. Whatever else
they were they were sailors and tying knots was one of their
specialties. It seemed hopeless,
blood dripped from her wrists as the rough rope fibres abraded her skin,
and then one of the ropes, slick with her blood, slipped
loose.
Ignoring the pain she struggled out of the
rest of the loops. Tearing the
gag from her mouth she took a deep
breath. Should she scream or
not? If she did she might save
her sister, but somehow she doubted it.
It had taken her too long to get out of the
ropes. Shasara had probably already
been violated. And there was
no guarantee that anyone would hear her
anyway. The creaking of the ship
was loud enough to drown out most sounds from the hold and she could barely
hear the sound of the pirates singing as they pulled on the
oars. If she couldn’t hear
them, they were unlikely to hear her.
She would have to rescue Shasara on her
own. But first she needed to
get out of her prison.
Her hands were free, but her neck was still
chained to the wall. Somehow
she had to find a way to pick the lock, an area in which she had very little
expertise. First, however, she
needed to find some sort tool to insert into the lock
mechanism. Feeling about her
in the darkened room she sought something, anything that might be of
use. Finding nothing with her
hands, she began to explore the floor with her
feet. Unable to bend over due
to the restrictions of the chain, it was the best she could
do. Again and again she patted
the floor until finally she was about to give up when her toes encountered
a slight irregularity in the floor.
Carefully she probed the object.
It appeared to be a nail or piece of
wire. Painstakingly rolling it
between her toes she managed after a few tries to lift it and transfer it
to her fingers. She new what
it was at once; a broken piece of silver
jewellery. The pirate who had
come with Weasel had been wearing just such
bangles. In the struggle one
or more of them must have broken and fallen to the
floor.
It was not the best lock pick, but she had
little choice. Inserting it into
the crude mechanism she worked it back and forth, hoping that by some miracle
she would be successful. Ten
minutes later she was still at it, but she curbed her urge to
hurry. A competent lock-pick
would have made short work of the crude shackle, but Vayasha lacked the necessary
skill. She did, however, have
perseverance. With a sharp
“snick” the lock opened.
Now there was just the door.
The heavy oak door promised to be the most
formidable barrier, but to her immense surprise, it opened at a
touch. Incredibly the pirates
who had abducted her sister had not thought to lock it properly, no doubt
believing that she was very unlikely to
escape.
She stepped into the
hold. Somewhere in the darkness,
her sister was at the mercy of two or more
pirates. Hoping against hope
she crept forward. Would she
be in time?
Shasara fought desperately as she was dragged
through the hold, but her efforts were
futile. Weasel and the other
man easily propelled her through the darkened hold to a hatch leading to
a lower deck. The other man clambered
down a ladder to the lower level and then Weasel simply dropped her through
the hatch.
He fall was partly broken by the man waiting
for her, but the impact still knocked the breath out of
her. Gasping for air she was
dragged between barrels and crates until her captors reached a secluded part
of the hold. Here they hung up
the lantern and unshuttering it allowed the light to fall upon
her.
“Now, witch,” Weasel panted,
“we’re going to have a little fun with
ye. We’re going to awaken
ye to the ways of men.”
Gagged, Shasara could not reply or even scream
for help. She would have if she
had been able, although the chances of anyone hearing her above the sounds
of the ship and the sea were very remote.
She was deep in the hold with several layers of heavy timber between
her and anyone else. Trembling
in fear, but trying hard not to quail in front of the two men who held her
she awaited their pleasure.
“Now,” said
Weasel. “Let’s have
another look at ye.” Taking
out his knife, he began to cut through the ties holding on her clothes, slowly
revealing her lithe, ripe young body.
He started with her shirt, slicing through
the laces that held it closed. As
it parted he placed the tip of the knife between her breasts, and grinning
at the look of fear in the silver-haired beauty’s eyes traced a slow
red line over the curve of her left breast ending just at the pink circle
of her areola. Her chest heaved
as she tried to pull away from the cruel
steel. “Don’t worry,
witch,” Weasel breathed, his face just inches from
hers. “I’m going to
play with these awhile before I cut them.”
The man holding her laughed and reached around
so that he could paw her quivering bosom.
He clamped one hand over the tender flesh of her right breast and
squeezed until it bulged out between his
fingers. At the same time Weasel
continued to slice away the ties holding her shirt until it was open to the
waist and then he went to work on her
trousers. He didn’t need
the knife for them, but he used it anyway, cutting through the ties that
held them up. They dropped around
her ankles revealing the slivery triangular fleece between her
legs. While Shasara struggled
he ran his fingers over the slight swell of her abdomen and stroked the feathery
softness that hid her sex.
The Silvani forester fought in grim desperation
as she was stripped and humiliated.
Muffled grunts issued from her gagged mouth as she twisted her supple
body, but she could not shake herself loose from the grip of the man behind
her. As Weasel and the other
pirate arched her over a heavy packing case her struggles became ever more
frantic, and as her legs were spread she writhed in a frenzy of
fear.
Both men laughed as Weasel moved between her
thighs. “Make her scream,”
the other man urged Weasel.
“Show her how a man deals with a
witch.”
Shasara did scream, her cries muffled by the
gag. If was a scream of pure
terror as Weasel prepared to mount her.
She was arched over the packing crate, her head lower than her belly
while Weasel used his weight to pin and spread
her. Her long hair swept the
floor and whipped back and forth as she used all of her remaining strength
to fight off the inevitable. And
then Weasel thrust hard into her.
“MMMmmmpphhh!”
Shasara’s cry reflected
the humiliation and pain inflicted upon
her. No greater dishonour could
be inflicted upon a woman in Silvani society than the loss of her virginity
to an enemy. The shame that swept
over her was devastating. Crushed
by the utter degradation she sobbed, her chest heaving as Weasel continued
to plow into her.
Mistaking her grief for pain Weasel taunted
her. “Don’t worry
witch. It won’t hurt so
much the next time. Ye’ll
be as loose as a fifty year old whore by the time Gorm and I are through
with ye.”
He punched steadily into her, enjoying the
girl’s obvious pain. Gorm
tortured her bouncing breasts, twisting her nipples and squeezing them
mercilessly. Then he began to
remove the gag.
“What are you doing,” gasped Weasel
between thrusts.
“She’ll scream.”
“Don’t worry,” Gorm
grinned. “I’ve got
something else to put in her
mouth.” Holding his hand
over her lips as the gag was removed, Gorm grabbed her hair with his other
hand and then releasing her mouth he forced his erect manhood between the
sobbing girl’s lips.
“Mmmpphh!” Shasara grunted as Gorm penetrated to the back
of her throat. The heavy organ
filled her mouth completely, forcing her to breathe through her nose and
starving her of oxygen. She thrashed
frantically as the double rape continued, droplets of moisture flying from
her sweat-soaked body.
“Enjoying it, witch?” Weasel
jeered. He gripped her rounded
backside and pulled hard, penetrating her to the
maximum. The girl’s only
reply was a muffled cry.
Brutally, the two pirates continued to ravage
their helpless victim, giving her no respite and prolonging their pleasure
and Shasara’s pain for as long as
possible. How long the rape might
have continued was never determined, however, for at that moment a harsh
voice screamed at the two men from out of the
gloom.
“Ye bastards!” thundered the red-bearded
pirate captain. He loomed in
the light of the lantern, several men right behind
him.
“Ye’ve ruined her,” he raged
as both Weasel and Gorm leaped back from their exhausted
victim. “She’s not
worth more that a tavern whore
now.” He advanced on them,
his sword in his hand.
“Seize them,” he ordered, pointing
his sword toward the two men.
Immediately several pirates swarmed forward and laid hold of the two
rapists.
“Wait Valjo,” said
Weasel. “Ye owe
me. I saved yer
life.”
The captain
stopped. “That ye did,”
he agreed. “And a debt is
a debt.” Then he grinned
his teeth gleaming in the reflected light of the
lantern. “Tie their hands
boys. We’ll not be killing
either of these two.”
“Wait,” Weasel
protested. “Ye have to let
me go. Ye can’t be killing
me when ye owe me a life debt.”
“Who said anything about killing?”
Valjo replied, stroking his red beard.
“My orders are not to be
disobeyed. I’ll not kill
ye because of the debt, but I’ll not let ye rob me of my share of my
rightful share either.”
Weasel and Gorm struggled in the arms of the
men that held them. “What
are ye going to do, Valjo? Ye
cannot kill me.”
Shasara watched, temporarily forgotten as
Valjo approached the two pirate
prisoners. Her jaw ached and
her ravaged valley of joy burned.
Slowly, she rolled into the shadows as the drama played out before
her.
“As I said,” Valjo replied, “I
will not kill ye. But I can’t
be having my crew members ignoring my
orders. This is the last time
ye’ll deflower any maidens.”
He turned to one of the men.
“Get some water and a couple of strips of
rawhide.”
“No,” Weasel protested, suddenly
divining what the captain was about to
do.” “Ye can’t
do this. We’re pirates like
ye be.”
Valjo ignored Weasel’s
protestations. “Tie ‘em
up proper,” he ordered.
A rope was placed about the neck of each of
the bound men and thrown over an overhead
beam. Then it was pulled tight
until both men were almost on their toes.
By this time the man the captain had sent for the water and rawhide
had returned. Valjo stepped forward
and removed the belt from the trousers of both Weasel and Gorm, exposing
their genitalia.
This time Gorm joined in the
protest. It had taken him a little
longer to figure out what Valjo was up to, but now he begged for
mercy.
Once again ignoring the protests Valjo soaked
the rawhide in water and then handing it to one of his men ordered it to
be tied on.
Weasel screamed in pain and fear as the wet
rawhide was tightened around the base of his penis, just about the
scrotum. A few seconds later
Gorm copied him.
“The debt is paid,” Valjo
said. “I didn’t kill
ye, nor yer friend. I’ll
be back in a few hours to check on ye.”
Oblivious to their cries for mercy, the captain
peered into the darkness.
“Where’s the
girl?” He spotted Shasara
lying in the shadows. “Ah
there she be. Well, yer ruined
for trade so ye might as well entertain
me.” He reached down and
hauled the dishonoured girl to her feet.
“I’ll take ye to my cabin and then turn ye over to the
crew. It’ll be some compensation
at least.”
A few paces away Vayasha watched, her eyes
clouded with tears. As she had
feared she was too late. There
was no doubt about the terrible fate her sister had
suffered. As the pirate captain
pulled the weeping girl to her feet the signs of her ordeal were clearly
visible on her body. Large bruises
darkened her thighs and breasts and the bite marks on her breasts and the
blood dribbling down her long legs were clear proof of the ordeal she had
suffered.
She also noted the suffering of the two men
who had deflowered her sister with grim satisfaction.
Their screams of pain attested
to the brutality of their punishment.
Had they not been in so much obvious agony she would have taken pleasure
in disemboweling them, provided she had a
knife. Since she was weaponless,
however, and the two rapists were being suitably punished she decided to
follow the pirate captain instead.
The captain had Shasara dragged behind
him. Vayasha followed until the
captain and his men went up the ladder to the main
deck. It would have been sheer
stupidity to follow the captain into the open of the upper
deck. And there was still another
problem. So far her escape from
the room where she and Shasara had been chained had not been
detected. Vayasha had made sure
to securely close the door and lock it as if she was still imprisoned in
the room. With any luck, considering
how their needs had been ignored previously, no one would notice that she
wasn’t there for some time.
She would need that time to engineer some way to
escape.
First, however, she needed to determine where
the ship was. Moving through
the hold she made her way forward until she reached the
bow. Here the anchor cables were
trained through a porthole to the
outside. Peeking through the
opening she saw that the ship was about half a league off the
coast. With any luck she might
be able to swim that distance.
However, she doubted that her sister could and she still needed some
way of getting her Shasara away from the
captain.
She sat down and thought things
through. Somehow she had to force
the ship to move closer to the shore.
It might do that of its own accord if she waited long enough, but
in the meantime her escape might be discovered and the pirates would hunt
her down. And then there was
the matter of Shasara. Captain
Valjo had made it very clear what he intended to do to her
sister. She couldn’t let
that happen.
Getting to her feet she headed toward the
stern of the ship. She had an
idea. She moved cautiously as
this part of the vessel seemed to be more frequently visited by members of
the crew. In the decks above
her were the captain’s quarters and those of other crew
members. Here also were many
of the stores intended for use by the cook and therefore close to the
ship’s galley. Moving stealthily
she shifted her position, working gradually toward the stern using the numerous
packing cases and barrels to conceal her
movement.
It was to Vayasha very similar to moving through
the forests of her homeland, except instead of hiding behind trees and bushes
she used cargo. At this she was
a master. Silent and almost invisible
she moved undetected through the hold until she finally reached her
objective. She stood in the crowded
bay through which passed the heavy ropes that controlled the ship’s
rudder. Each was as thick as
her forearm. She now needed a
knife and so she moved back toward a busier section of the hold and
waited.
It didn’t take long for someone to show
up. A boy came down the ladder
into the hold; probably the cook’s helper as he headed toward a large
barrel of salt pork and pried off the
lid. Vayasha
hesitated. She had not expected
a boy. It meant that she would
have to change her plans a bit.
Like all the pirates, the boy was
armed. A long knife was stuck
into his belt, however, Vayasha did not like the idea of killing a
boy.
She struck him across the back of the neck,
temporarily paralyzing him and then pressed down on the great artery in the
throat, slowing the flow of blood to the
brain. Gradually the boy slumped
into sleep. Quickly she dragged
him to a hiding place among the goods in the
hold. He would remain unconscious
long enough to do what she intended.
Taking the knife from the boy’s belt
she returned to the tiller. She
needed to cut just one of the ropes controlling the
rudder. Fortunately the knife
was sharp and cut through the thick hemp fibres
easily. As the rope parted and
the rudder swung to one side she scampered back toward
midships. What she had done would
certainly attract attention and she needed to take advantage of the confusion
that would ensue. There was,
however, one more act she had to perform before she went after
Shasara. Hanging near the main
hatch she found a lantern and flint and steel for lighting
it. Striking a spark she lit
the lantern and then taking it deeper into the hold, turned it on its
side. She watched with satisfaction
as a pool of fire flowed across the deck.
Now she just had to hope that confusion would enable her to get to
Shasara.
Shasara huddled at the foot of Valjo’s
bed. The violent rape had left
her completely shattered, her spirit crushed as the stain of dishonour tainted
her psyche. Just a pace away
the pirate captain loomed over her, slowly unbuckling his
belt. His intent was plain, but
she was too demoralized to fight back, even if her hands had still not been
bound behind her back. She waited
for him to do what he wanted with her, her head hung
low.
“It’s too bad that bastard ruined
ye,” Valjo said, grabbing Shasara’s hair and forcing her to stare
into his face. “Ye’d
have fetched a right good price in the slave
market. But now yer not fit for
anything but a brothel, so I might as well get me money’s
worth.” He hauled her to
her to feet and forced her down on the
bed. Dropping his pants he parted
her thighs and prepared to enjoy her.
Suddenly the ship lurched strangely, almost
knocking the pirate captain off his feet.
“By the sea gods,” he
cursed. “What in the sea
demon’s name is going on?”
Pulling his pants back on he headed for the door as the ship lurched
again.
Her experience at sea had taught Shasara
something. She could tell from
the feel of the ship that for some reason it had lost way and had turned
broadside to the waves. Valjo
stormed put of the cabin and she heard him curse
again. The door slammed and she
heard the sound of a bolt being thrown, locking her
in.
She made no effort to move from where Valjo
had thrown her; merely tucking her legs up on the bed and adopting a semi-fetal
position. Outside she could hear
shouting and the thumping of feet on the deck as the crew responded to whatever
crisis threatened. A faint odour
of smoke came to her nostrils. It
sparked her curiosity, but not enough to make her
move.
A rasping sound alerted her to the fact that
the bolt on the door was being drawn
back. Whatever was happening
outside the cabin had apparently settled down enough that Valjo was
returning.
“Shasara,” a familiar voice
whispered. She raised her head,
her eyes widening. Closing the
door behind her was Vayasha. She
was holding a long-bladed knife, which she used to cut the ropes binding
her wrists.
“Come,” her younger sister
urged. “We must take advantage
of the distraction to escape.”
Shasara sat up lethargically, rubbing her
wrists. They had been scraped
raw when she had struggled to escape.
“Come,” Vayasha
repeated. “We must go
now.” She was rummaging
through one of the trunks in the cabin.
Pulling out a pair of trousers that were far too large she handed
them to her sister. “These
will have to do. We can alter
them later.”
Shasara did not
move. “You go, my
sister. I would only slow you
down.”
Vayasha stared at her sister in
astonishment. “I will not
go without you. You know
that!”
“I have been dishonoured,” Shasara
replied raising her head. “I
am no longer fit to be your sister.”
“You must come,” Vayasha
insisted. “If you do not
then I too will be dishonoured, because I will not leave without
you.”
This last threat seemed to work. Shasara roused
herself from her lassitude and put on the oversized trousers, tying them
at the waist to keep them on.
“What is your plan?” she
asked.
“We swim,” answered
Vayasha. “I disabled the
rudder and the wind and waves have pushed the ship closer to
shore.”
“I’m not sure I can make it,”
Shasara said. “I will hold
you back. Go without
me.”
Vayasha pursed her lips in
annoyance. “I will not argue
any longer.” She seized
her sister by the arm and pulled her toward the transom window of the
cabin. From the window it was
only a short drop to the sea.
“We go,” she said.
“If you need help I will be
there.”
Opening the window, Vayasha pushed her sister
forward and helped her to the sill.
She waited until Shasara had dropped to the water then she tossed
out the now empty sea chest and followed.
Her sister bobbed in the water beneath the
stern. Pushing the buoyant sea
chest Vayasha joined her. Each
of the girls held on to one of the leather straps and began to kick toward
shore. In spite of her comments,
Shasara seemed to find some reserve of
strength. Slowly they pulled
away from the ship.
As they floated out from under the stern,
Shasara was sure that they would be seen, but something
else seemed to have distracted the crew.
As the distance increased she saw that the middle of the ship was
wreathed in smoke. Suddenly a
lick of flame exploded from amidships, climbing the mainmast and enveloping
the sail. It was obvious that
the pirates would be far too busy trying to save their own hides to pay any
attention to a bobbing sea chest, even one supporting two silver haired
women. Gathering her strength
she kicked out, helping her sister push the sea chest toward the
shore.
Night was falling by the time the chest washed
up on the beach. Exhausted,
Shasara let her sister help her out of the
water. They found shelter in
the rocks at the top of the beach.
Here the sand was dry, and too done in to go farther, the two girls
curled up in each other’s arms and dropped off to a troubled
sleep.
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