The Adventures of the Jade
Dragon
Episode 7
Chapter
14
Jahlen’s Nightmare
Jahlen fought against the pair of handcuffs that held
her. She had rubbed most of the
skin off her wrists, but they were as tight as
ever. The cuffs had been locked
on so that her palms faced away from one
another. Such a position made
it almost impossible to shed the cuffs, or even tinker with the
lock. Not that she had anything
she could have used as a lock
pick. The utility belt
she had worn had been taken from her before she had been thrown into the
truck. All of her burglary gear
was in it. She had nothing
else.
She strained again against
the metal restraints. It was
useless. She was so frustrated
she could have wept. Her only
chance of escape was to get away before the truck reached Zhuang’s
headquarters. Once he had her
there he would be able to do anything he wanted with her, and she could just
imagine what that might be.
She cursed the foolish notion that had entered her
head. Why had she tried to
double-cross him? She knew
how clever and alert he was. She
had been stupid to believe that she could deceive
him. She could see that now,
but she had been so tired of being the slave of the Chinese
crimelord. It had been her chance
to escape and break out on her own, but she had blown it and now she would
be punished.
Beside her the two heroines slept
quietly. Only the sounds of their
soft breathing even revealed that they were in the truck with
her. It was pitch black in the
cargo compartment and she could see
nothing. She wondered why the
two heroines were still sleeping.
The effects of the gas should have worn off by now, but neither woman
showed the least signs of waking up.
They slept as if they were totally
exhausted. Perhaps they
were. She remembered the scene
when she had first entered the room.
The two heroines appeared to have been used badly.
The truck was slowing down. She
fought again against the handcuffs, knowing what probably awaited
her. She had seen what Zhuang
did to those who betrayed him. She
herself had been part of that punishment, using her inquisitorial skills
to inflict pain. She heard the
bay doors of Zhuang’s garage open and intensified her attempts to escape,
but the cuffs held. She felt
a trickle of sweat dripping uncomfortably down her back as the truck slowed
down and stopped. There were
footsteps. The door was flung
open and Jahlen blinked stupidly in the glare of
the light. Chen stood
there. “Take the two sleeping
beauties to the cells,” he ordered.
He grabbed Jahlen’s arm and jerked
her forward. “This one comes
with me.”
“I’m really looking forward to this,” Chen said as he dragged
Jahlen
toward
Zhuang’s
quarters. “You have no idea
how much entertainment value you are going to
be.”
Jahlen remained silent.
Her high-cheekboned face showed no
emotion. She knew that nothing
she said would infuriate Chen as much as her
silence.
“Quiet one, aren’t
you?” Chen continued.
“It’s going to be fun hearing you
scream. You’re going to
make just as much noise as the victims you
tortured. And I’m going
to enjoy being the one to do it.”
He pushed open the door to Zhuang’s
quarters. Inside the crimelord
lounged upon his divan. As usual,
he was stuffing food into his face.
“Why did you do it, Jahlen?” asked Zhuang,
as she was dragged before him.
“Did I not give you a high ranking position in my
organization? Did I not care
for you and give you a place to stay?
Why would you betray me?”
Myriad thoughts ran through Jahlen’s
mind. Should she try to talk
her way out of the situation? She
doubted that she would succeed.
Zhuang had already rejected her feeble
explanation. Maybe she should
throw herself on his mercy. She
almost smiled at that. The man
had no mercy.
At least none that she had
noticed. Perhaps it was
best to just tell the truth.
“I intended you no insult, lord,” she
said. That at least was the
truth. With any luck if she had
gotten away with her scheme, Zhuang would have never
known. “I merely sought
to move out on my own. I am grateful
to you for what you have done for me, but I must be my own
mistress. I cannot serve anther
forever. Not even one as great
as you.” There she had said
it. Now she would let Zhuang
decide.
Zhuang shook his head
slowly. “I find your betrayal
most disturbing. When I found
you, you were nothing. I raised
you up. I gave you a position
of importance. And now you betray
me. Well, you will perform one
final task for me. You will serve
as an example of what happens to those who turn against
me. You will be punished, and
most severely. Before I am through
you will beg for death. But you
will not receive it.
Not until I am satisfied that the lesson has been
learned by all who serve
me.” He nodded to
Chen.
“Begin. Perhaps the
first place she should visit is the
guardroom. Leave her there for
a day or so and then bring her back here.
Oh, and make sure that she is not too severely
damaged. I want something to
play with when she returns.”
Jahlen held herself straight as Chen led her
away. At least she knew what
awaited her.
The
guardroom. Well, she had
been raped before. She could
stand up to it. And Zhuang had
ordered that she not be too badly beaten.
She would survive, and perhaps escape.
“I can’t see
why I shouldn’t give you a little preview,” Chen said as he closed
the door to Zhuang’s quarters.
“It’ll be my way of warming you
up.” He turned off the main
corridor into a side room. It
was empty except for a large desk and a filing
cabinet. “This’ll
do,” he said. Pushing her
ahead of him, he bent her over the desk.
A wave of images overwhelmed her mind.
They went back twelve years to a girl of
thirteen. It had been her first
time and the client who had paid five hundred dollars for her virginity had
taken her in the same way, bending her over the bed in the tiny cubicle that
was her room.
Her mother had been a whore, and she had been raised in
brothel. She had never known
her father, but almost certainly it was an American or British sailor on
leave in
She did not remember that name of the man who took
her. She did not even remember
his face. She only remembered
being confused and frightened. Even
then she had been very tall by Chinese
standards. And the client who
purchased her had commented on it, referring to her as “the horse,”
and laughing about how difficult it would be to mount
her. The woman who ran the brothel,
“Madame Chin” she called herself, had taken her to a small
room. “This is yours,
Yue Wan,” she
said. “You will wait
here.”
And so she had waited, trembling as she contemplated
her
fate. She wondered what it would be like
the first time. Madame Chin had
offered her opium, but she had refused the drug, remembering what it had
done to her mother. Heart pounding,
she had sat on the bed watching the thin wooden
door. Finally it had opened and
the man who had purchased the right to her first time
entered. She remembered thinking
that he was very old, although probably he had only been in his
thirties. She had stood when
he entered, and he had turned and made the “horse” comment to Madame
Chin. She heard her laugh and
then the door closed and she was alone with her
customer. He had closed the door
and ordered her to turn around.
Then he had pushed her face down on the bed.
Madame Chin had dressed her in a thin silk
robe. She wore nothing
underneath. Lifting the hem of
her robe he exposed her trembling
backside. He placed his hands
in the small of her back and then slid them up under the robe until he reached
her shoulders. He briefly massaged
her smooth white flesh before slipping his fingers under her armpits and
cupping her small still developing
breasts. By Chinese standards,
however, her bust was more than adequate and the man had grunted in
approval.
She remembered the man pinching her tiny nipples and stretching them out,
and then his hands had withdrawn.
She could hear him behind her.
He was breathing hard and fumbling with his
pants. Then his hands were between
her legs, pushing them apart. His
hands went to her hips and raised them
slightly. By now she was breathing
hard in anticipation. She had
asked the other girls if it would hurt, but they had replied only with knowing
smiles. She had tensed
herself. There was a gentle probing
and then a sudden stab of pain.
She had not cried out. Her only
reaction was a quick intake of breath.
It did not hurt much.
Certainly not as much as she had
feared. And it did not
last long. The man finished her
quickly, and had slumped panting heavily on top of
her. She could remember wondering
how he could be tired when he had done so little
work.
She had not moved from her position until the man climbed off
her. Finally he had moved to
one side. He had rolled her over
and stripped off her robe revealing her still maturing
body. Tall and thin, her hips
were narrow, not having reached the full maturity of
womanhood. He had kissed her
on the mouth and she had responded awkwardly, pursing her lips and placing
them against his. This had continued
for several minutes, with his kisses traveling over her
body. Finally he had shed his
pants and lying on the bed beside her had demanded that she revive his flaccid
penis with her mouth. She had
refused.
At first he stared at her uncomprehendingly, and then he had stormed from
the room and demanded of Madame Chin that his whore perform as
instructed. He was so upset that
he did not even remember to put on his
pants. Nevertheless, Madame Chin
had returned, and in a polite tone informed her that her duty was to please
the client. But she had been
adamant. She would submit to
intercourse, but she would not perform
fellatio.
She had been beaten, of course.
And many times after
that. But it had made
no difference. Eventually Madame
Chin came to regard her as a
troublemaker. She sought to break
her by having her service several men at
once. But she would not submit,
no matter how often she was brutalized.
Finally, more than a dozen men were set upon
her. They raped her until she
fainted from exhaustion. It was
her final act as a whore. Left
to recover by herself she had managed to slip away from Madame Chin’s
watchful guardianship.
Finding herself in the streets she had changed her name to
Jahlen.
It had no special meaning, but it had an elegant sound that she thought
suited her. Then she turned to
a different profession. She had
become a thief, and a good one. It
seemed that she had a natural affinity for criminal
life. By the time she was seventeen,
she had her own criminal gang, and a reputation for ruthlessness that rivaled
that of any other
Her fledgling organization had been no match for
Zhuang’s. An attack on her
headquarters had resulted in her capture.
But Zhuang liked to torment his victims before executing
them. She had been the
exception. Impressed by her courage,
her strange beauty and her intelligence, he had “invited” her to
join his organization. Faced
with a painful death as an alternative, she had agreed, but she had never
forgotten Zhuang’s brutal extermination of her gang members or the screams
of those he had tortured to death.
She especially remembered the female members he had given to his thugs
to do with as they wished before they were
killed.
And so she had decided to strike back.
“And now,” she thought, “I’ve come full
circle. Back
to where I started.”
Since running away from the brothel she had disdained all advances
from men. But now she was bent
over in the same position she had been in when she had lost her
virginity. She swallowed and
took a slow calming breath. Chen
was fumbling with the drawstring that held up the loosing-fitting black pants
she had worn during her foray into the Black Leopard’s
lair. He tugged it loose and
with a quick yank pulled her pants to her
knees.
Chen gave a low whistle. “So
that’s what you’ve been hiding from us,” he said, “giving
her right cheek a pinch.” He
slid his hand inside her black silk panties, until he could touch her vulva,
and used his fingers to part her nether
lips. “Tight for a whore
aren’t you? Well, I’ll
loosen you up and then we’ll see what Zhuang’s guard can
do.” With a quick motion
he ripped the flimsy silk from her loins and pushed her down
harder. She heard the scrape
of leather on metal as he unbuckled his belt and the shuffling as he dropped
his pants. Then something very
large and hard was pushed against her vulva.
“I’ve been raped before.
I’ve been raped before,” she told
herself. To her every act of
intercourse that had been forced on her was a violation of her
body. She had never had consensual
sex. Chen would be just one more
rapist. But she had not been
taken in more than twelve years.
Chen grunted as he thrust into her.
Jahlen could not hold back a gasp as his
large member parted tissues that had not known a man for more than a
decade. She was almost virginal
in her tightness. Her back arched
as the huge staff slid into her.
Chen’s hands, which had been on her hips, steadying her for his
assault, moved under her black pullover and cupped her
breasts. He pushed aside the
lace brassiere and squeezed the tender flesh until it bulged out between
his fingers. And then moving
his hips harshly forward, drove his entire length into
her.
Jahlen did not cry out, but her entire body was covered in
sweat and her breathing was heavy.
It took all of her self control to hold herself
still. As Chen picked up the
pace her ruby lips parted and her chest
heaved. “How do you like
it, whore? I’ve wanted to
do this ever since Zhuang took you
on.” He pinched her nipples,
squeezing them between thumb and forefinger as hard as she
could.
Jahlen’s breathing quickened, but that
was her only response. “Have
it your way, whore,” Chen said
angrily. “But you might
as well enjoy this, you’re going to get a lot
of it.”
Chen raped her for a good
hour. Finally, grunting from
exertion, he shot his thick seed into
her. Wiping off his penis on
her pullover, he pulled up his pants and then grabbing her arms he shoved
her out of the room with her pants still around her
ankles. He forced her down the
hallway, past several smirking guards until he reached the
guardroom. Booting open the door
he pushed her through it. Inside
more than a dozen heads turned in their direction.
“Here she is boys.
Your entertainment for the next few
days. Don’t worry
about being too gentle with her, but just remember that Zhuang doesn’t
want any broken bones or disfiguring
injuries. As you can see, I’ve
got her ready for you.”
Most of the dozen or so men got to their
feet. Zhuang was strict about
not allowing the men who guarded his headquarters to have any access to
women. This was a rare treat,
and the men were vocal in showing their
appreciation. Chen pushed
Jahlen to her
knees. There were two clicks
as he removed the shackles from her ankles and two more as he unlocked her
manacles. He pushed her
forward. “She’s all
yours. Just remember, no permanent
injuries.” With that Chen
exited the room and closed the door, leaving Jahlen
alone with the roomful of leering thugs.
With her loose fitting black pants still around her ankles and her thighs
stained with blood from her bleeding vagina Jahlen
struggled to her feet. She was
completely surrounded by Zhuang’s
guards. She considered resisting,
but realized that she would merely be inviting a
beating. Most of Zhuang’s
men were highly trained professionals, skilled in the Chinese martial
arts. Her proficiency as a street
brawler, learned in the slums of
The encircling men simply
stared at her for a few seconds.
Before them was Jahlen,
Zhuang’s feared
inquisitor. Her ruthless cruelty
and efficiency was legendary amongst Zhuang’s
followers. Her peculiar cat-like
eyes stared at them with their usual mesmerizing
power. Then their eyes went to
her lower anatomy and the blood dripping down her long
legs. She was just a woman after
all. And women were to be
used. “Time to deal with
this bitch,” said one of them, and they came at her with a
rush.
Jahlen was swept off her feet, her pullover, boots, pants,
and underclothes ripped from her body.
She was slammed down on top of a table in the centre of the
room. She was spread-eagled,
one man holding on to each of her splayed
limbs. She waited, while the
men around her argued about who was going to be
first. In the end it was resolved
the way it always was. The bigger,
stronger men shouldered their way to the front and waited their
turn.
“It’s just my
body,” Jahlen reminded
herself. “I can stand
rape. I’ve stood it
before. When it’s over
I’ll still be alive. Then
I can escape.” She repeated
these thoughts over and over again as the first man moved to take
her. She recognized him. He was
a thug called Chung, one of Zhuang’s
enforcers. He moved between her
legs and without ceremony unbuttoned his trousers and thrust into
her.
She was surprised at how much it hurt.
Chen had torn her vagina badly when he had raped her on the
desk. The second time, with
Chung’s penis rasping against her bruised flesh, hurt much
more. But she stood up to it,
her eyes fixed on the face of her
assailant. She would make sure
that she remembered him.
Chung noticed her hard stare.
“Evil eyed bitch,” he
cursed. Without warning he slapped
her face, whipping her head to the right, and then smacked it back the other
way with his backhand. For a
second Jahlen’s senses
reeled. Then her vision
cleared. She tasted blood inside
her mouth where her cheeks had been smashed against her
teeth.
“Keep you eyes to yourself,” Chung warned “or I’ll make
you wish you’d never been born.”
Chastened, Jahlen tried to find another place to
look. Surrounded on all sides
she finally fixed her gaze on the
ceiling.
Chung continued to pound into her, urged on by his
comrades. They wanted a turn
too and were less than patient about their
demands. “Come on Chung,”
one shouted. “You’ll
screw her ass off and leave nothing for us.”
The thug quickened his pace almost savagely, rocking
Jahlen’s body with every thrust, while the
other men fondled and pinched whatever part of her body they could
reach. It took him only a few
minutes to climax, spurting his ropes of sperm into
her. Immediately, another man
took his face. This one
Jahlen did not know, but she had learned her lesson,
she averted her gaze from his while he raped
her.
By the end of the sixth rape she was in acute
agony. Her body was covered with
sweat and sperm. Her ravaged
vagina was bleeding badly and every thrust was
excruciating. Bruises covered
her breasts, thighs, arms, and
buttocks
One after the other each man took her in
rapid succession until she had satisfied every man in the
room. But her ordeal was only
beginning. Another dozen men
entered the room as the shift changed.
They were eager to get at the haughty woman who had held them in such
low regard, and each man raped her as brutally as possible.
At the end of six hours her rapists had come full
circle. She had lost track of
the number of men who had ravished her.
She did not even remember the faces of more than a
few. Each man was now just a
blur. And then Chung was back, anxious for more, but this time he wanted
her in a different way.
He hauled her off the table.
Jahlen was so beaten and exhausted that
none of the men bothered to hold her.
He dumped her onto the floor and grabbing her hair, pulled her face
toward his dangling phallus.
“Suck it, bitch,” he
ordered.
Beaten, battered, humiliated, and close to fainting,
Jahlen shook her
head. “God damn it,”
Chung swore. “I said suck
it.” He seized her jaw and
forced her mouth open. The glans
of his penis parted her lips and thrust past her
teeth. Without hesitation, she
bit down, clamping like a bulldog onto the tip of his
manhood.
“Ahh! You goddamn
bitch!” Chung screamed.
Jahlen would not let
go. He struck her with his closed
fist, knocking her across the room.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch!” screamed Chung as he booted her
semiconscious form, each kick almost lifting her off the
floor.
“Easy Chung,”
yelled one of the other men, grabbing his arm and jerking him
back. “Chen said no broken
bones. You’re going to kill
her.”
“To hell with Chen,” Chung
roared. The bloody bitch bit
me. I
am going to kill
her.”
“Someone call me?” Chung
whirled; his face suddenly pale.
There in the door stood Chen’s massive
form. “What’s the
problem?” he continued.
“The bitch bit me,” said Chung
sullenly.
“That’s right,” said another of the men,
laughing.
“Should have heard him
holler.”
Chen walked over to the form crumpled on the guardroom
floor. He picked
Jahlen up like a rag doll and dumped her on the
table. A low moan escaped her
lips as she slowly regained her senses.
“Did you bite him, whore?” he
asked. He grabbed her by the
throat and pulled her into a sitting
position. His other hand clamped
over her left breast and squeezed it like a
vise. “Answer
me. Did you bite
him?”
Jahlen choked and inclined her head
slightly. With a contemptuous
shove Chen let her fall to the table.
“Well,” he chuckled, “a whore with
scruples.”
He turned to the waiting
men. “Fuck her everywhere
else, but leave her mouth alone.
And if I find anyone kicking her again, I’ll cut off his
balls.” A few seconds later
he left the room, but within five minutes was back
again. In his hand he held a
silver hypodermic needle.
By this time Jahlen was once more the centre of
attention, although in her barely conscious state, she hardly knew what was
happening to her. “Get off
her,” Chen ordered the man who was impaling
her. Rolling her over, he stuck
the hypodermic into her backside and emptied the syringe.
Jahlen felt an incredible euphoria flood through
her. All her pain disappeared,
to be replaced by a wondrous sensation of
floating. She had never felt
anything so good in her life. But
tinged with the rapture was a feeling of
disquiet. She knew that she had
been injected with morphine or heroin.
She wondered at Chen’s motive in relieving her
suffering. And she remembered
what had happened to the girls in the brothel who turned to drugs in desperation
as a way to ease their sordid existence.
And then she was past caring, as she was carried away on a cloud of
sleep.
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