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Chapter
29 Jungle
Torment
“Damn,”
muttered Melissa as her torch burned out.
She and the Suruani warrior were now in pitch
darkness. Well, there was nothing
to do but wait. The warrior she had sent back for more torches would be back
in a few minutes and then everything would be
alright.
Boom! In the confines of the narrow passageway the explosion
of the gun going off and the bright flash from the muzzle were both deafening
and frightening. For a second
Melissa was too stunned to realize what had happened, the gun had gone off
no more than a couple of yards from her position and was followed by the
scream of the bullet as it ricocheted down the stone
passage.
Melissa’s companion gave a shriek of
fear, and without waiting bolted back the way they had
come. Melissa jumped to her feet,
but as she did so, a heavy body knocked her to the tunnel
floor. Hands fumbled at her body
and then a fist struck her square on the
jaw. It was probably a lucky
punch, but whatever it was, it did the
job. Her legs turned to spaghetti
and she dropped to the floor. Then
before she could recover her senses, her arms were forced behind her
back. She felt her shirt being
pulled out of her pants and then there was a ripping
sound. As she struggled to clear
her head, her wrists were bound tightly
together. “Got you,
bitch,” came the sound of Featherstone’s triumphant
voice. “You make it so damned
easy.”
Fully awake now, and driven by terror, Melissa
fought to escape. This could
not be happening again, but even in the dark, Featherstone had done a superb
job of immobilizing her. Her
wrists were well tied, and before dragging her to her feet, he hobbled her
so that she could not kick. She
thought about screaming for help, but apparently Featherstone was thinking
the same thing, because before she could open her mouth some sort of rag
was stuffed into it and tied in place.
Not only did it make it impossible to scream or make much of a sound,
but it also hampered her breathing.
“Alright, princess,” Featherstone said, “now you are
mine again. I’m looking
forward to getting reacquainted.”
He turned her down the tunnel, and exerting firm pressure on her from
behind, directed her into the darkness.
Featherstone could hardly contain his
excitement. Capturing these stupid
bitches was ridiculously easy and a sure sign of the natural superiority
of men. He was looking forward
to delivering another lesson, and this time he was going to make it as drawn
out and painful as possible. He
shoved Melissa ahead of him. He
wasn’t too careful about how he moved down the
tunnel. If he encountered any
obstacle the girl would run into it first, and so he pushed on at a steady
pace. Fortunately for his prisoner
they did not come to any unexpected barriers and made good
time.
Melissa constantly tested her bonds, but they
held fast. Strangely, she wondered
where Featherstone had gotten the ropes to tie
her. Did he travel everywhere
with bondage equipment? Then
she understood. The bottom of
her shirt was missing. Featherstone
must have torn off a strip of material and used it to bind
her. But it did not matter how
he had done it, her main concern was to try and escape or delay Featherstone
so that Larra or someone else could rescue her.
She stumbled deliberately, allowing herself
to fall flat in the tunnel. She
could not cushion her fall because of the position of her arms, but she made
sure she fell to her knees first so as not to injure
herself. “Bitch,”
Featherstone cursed. Grabbing
her by the hair, he yanked her head back and delivered several hard slaps
to her face. For a second
Melissa’s senses swam, but he had not hit her hard enough to knock her
unconscious. She felt his hands
groping her breasts as he hauled her back to her
feet. He gave them a painful
twist, causing Melissa to gasp in pain.
“Don’t try that again, bitch, or I’ll twist these
off.” He finished by pinching
her nipples through her shirt with such intensity that her eyes
watered. If she had not been
gagged she would surely have screamed in
pain. Giving her a shove her
directed he down the passage again.
This time she made sure not to
stumble. She had learned her
lesson.
For about anther fifteen minutes they continued
to stumble through the dark and then the passage began to get
lighter. It no longer sloped
down, but had leveled out so Melissa had no idea of how deep underground
she was. As the light brightened
she saw that she and Featherstone were approaching the end of the
tunnel. As they neared the end,
Featherstone took the lead, pushing his way past
her. He peered out cautiously
and then with a grunt of satisfaction came back and took her
arm. “My luck just seems
to get better and better,” he said.
“This tunnel leads right outside the
city.”
Melissa saw that the tunnel ended in an overhang
about thirty feet from the ground.
It was so sheltered from both above and below that anyone looking
for it would have to know exactly where it was in order to find
it. She wondered if any of the
Lelawabi even knew it existed. The
passage that she and Featherstone had walked down did not appear to have
been used for years.
It was a bit of a trick getting Melissa to
the ground without falling, but Featherstone managed it by holding on to
her as they negotiated a narrow and poorly maintained path to the
ground. They were standing on
the edge of the rainforest that surrounded the Lelawabi
capital. Featherstone wasted
no time in hauling her out of sight.
A few feet into the forest they picked up a trail that appeared well
used and followed it through the dense
vegetation. Melissa noticed to
her surprise that Featherstone was taking her in the direction of the Suruani
city. Almost as if he was reading
her mind, Featherstone explained his choice of
routes.
“You and your bitch of a boss have, really
screwed up my plans. So I guess
I will just have to finish what I came here
for. Somewhere beyond that city
of women is what you and
He took out his revolver for emphasis, pointing
at Melissa’s head.
“I’d much rather screw your ass, but if I have to I’ll
blow your head off to get what I want.
Let’s hope that I don’t have to do
that.”
Melissa
swallowed. The look on
Featherstone’s face and his words were enough to make her almost tremble
in fear, but she would not give him the satisfaction of letting him see how
frightened she was. She set her
jaw and tried to remain calm.
Featherstone seemed tired of boasting and said no more for the next
hour. Instead, he marched her
steadily deeper into the forest, always choosing a trail that led farther
and farther away from any place that might offer
danger. Eventually they were
deep within the rainforest.
Finally, when he seemed sure that he had shaken off any pursuit he
stopped.
“This looks like a good
place. It’s time to begin
your training. My first lessons
obviously did not make a deep enough impression on
you.”
Melissa knew that by “lessons”
Featherstone was referring to the way he had raped and tortured
her. As she stood there in the
forest, alone with a man she could only regard as a psychopath, she
tensed. He heart beat wildly
within her chest and she feared that she might be
sick. Featherstone read her like
a book.
“Not quite so brave now, are
you? Your girlfriend is not around
to protect you and you are almost wetting
yourself. Well go
ahead. What I am going to do
to you will have you doing that soon enough.”
Grabbing Melissa’s arms, he moved her
in between two saplings and then with a single powerful tug he ripped open
her shirt. Melissa reddened as
her prominent breasts were exposed.
She would never get used to being forcibly
stripped. For a few seconds,
Featherstone stood in front of her savoring the sight of her naked
bosom. “You have one of
the sweetest set of titties I’ve ever laid eyes
on. Seems almost a shame to damage
them, but then again it is so much
fun.” He tweaked her nipples
again, gazing into her frightened eyes to fully enjoy the
experience. Melissa tried to
stare defiantly back at him to show that she did not care what he did to
her, but she was having a hard time disguising her
fear. Despite having been through
two brutal ordeals, she was almost trembling at the thought of what Featherstone
might do to her.
Featherstone moved his face close to hers,
a leering grin on his thin features.
Melissa could tell that he had seen through her thinly disguised attempt
at seeming indifferent to his attentions.
She could feel sweat beginning to trickling down her back, while feeling
strangely cold as he brought his face
closer. He pulled her close to
him, his hand in the small of her back.
“So beautiful," he murmured “and so
helpless. He moved his mouth
to her earlobe and took it between his
teeth. Melissa cringed, fearing
that he might bite it off, but he merely bit down a little before releasing
it and pushing her away from him.
“Time to get started,” he
said. The menace in his voice
was unmistakable.
Melissa saw that he had taken out his hunting
knife. “Maintain control,”
she thought. “Don’t
panic.” But her gut twisted
as the razor edge of the knife was placed against her
neck. To her immense relief,
but also further humiliation, he did not cut her but instead began to slice
through the material of her shirt, cutting it along the
seams. It took him only a few
seconds to remove the remainder of the garment, leaving her torso completely
nude. Gently he placed his hand
between her breasts and ran his fingers over the beads of sweats of sweat
that sparkled on her body.
“Getting warm, Miss Gallant?
Well, it is a rather warm
day.” He was clearly enjoying
the fear that he was causing her.
“Well, the upper story passes
inspection,” he said.
“Let’s have a look at the ground
floor.” Quickly he unbuckled
her belt, then bending, he cut up the seam of her trousers on both legs and
threw the tattered rags aside.
Melissa was now completely naked except for her boots, and he soon
removed those.
Featherstone placed his hands just under her
breasts and ran them down her body, finishing with his fingers between her
legs. Smooth as silk,” he
said. Then, while Melissa squirmed
he cupped her mons veneris and inserted two of his fingers between the folds
of her vulva. “I would have
thought you’d be as loose as a
Melissa slowly took a deep breath as Featherstone
ripped more of her shirt into shreds and used the lengths of cloth to tie
her ankles to each of the two saplings on either side of
her. Since each tree was about
five feet apart, she was forced to spread her legs wide in order to keep
from falling. She stood there,
her legs akimbo. Larra had trained
her in martial arts by having her stand like this, but she had not done enough
of it to build up the necessary muscles to hold the position for
long. Soon her legs were trembling
with the strain, and to make matters worse, Featherstone continually tormented
her by running his hands over her body.
By now Featherstone was sporting an immense
erection. It rivaled anything
he had ever had before. As he
fondled Melissa’s supple skin, he felt as if his organ was about to
explode. The girl had amazing
muscle tone, but was yielding in all the right
places. Speedily, his breath
coming quickly, he dropped his trousers and moved behind
her. Placing his hands on her
abdomen he pulled her toward his ready lance.
Still gagged, Melissa gave a muffled grunt
as Featherstone penetrated her from
behind. As before, he thrust
into her hard, ripping into her vagina without waiting for
lubrication. She arched her back
as he drove deep into her, ravaging the tender membranes of her love
canal. “That’s it
bitch,” Featherstone mocked, “enjoy
it.”
“Uugghh!” For Melissa the experience was far from enjoyable,
and her grunt of pain showed it.
Each thrust caused her breasts to bounce, and Featherstone soon cupped
them, squeezing hard on the soft globes and twisting the tender flesh
unmercifully.
“Mmmmpph!”
Melissa
protested. Her belly was thrust
well forward as Featherstone leaned into her, using all of his strength to
bend her body like a bow while he continued to ravish her nether
region. Sweat ran in rivulets
down her body and her hair whipped wildly around as she twisted her body
in an effort to escape the pain and humiliation of the
rape. Soon she was sobbing with
pain, rage, and the frustration of being used by the brutal
Englishman.
“Getting hot yet, bitch?” Featherstone
continued, as he began to methodically pump in and out of
her. She was so tight that he
could hardly believe that only a few days ago he had taken her
virginity. Her sobs excited him
almost more than the physical sensation of the
violation. Faster and faster
he plunged in and out of her, his breath coming in hoarse gasps, and increasing
in intensity until with a groan he ejaculated, spilling his seed over her
naked backside.
Featherstone staggered back, from the weeping
girl. That had been most satisfying,
but he was just getting started.
Rebuttoning his pants, he took out his knife and moved over to a vine
he had seen growing earlier. It
was perfect for what he wanted; about one inch thick, pliable, and studded
with cruel inch long thorns. He
smiled as he cut off a four foot length.
Melissa rolled her eyes as she tried to see
what he was up to. She knew that
brutal as the rape had been, it would not be sufficient to satisfy the English
spy. She did not have to wait
long. Coming up behind her, he
removed the gag from her mouth.
“I am going to enjoy hearing you scream, Miss
Gallant. And you will scream,
long and loud. What you have
experienced so far today will be a picnic compared to what I have
planned. I have no idea how you
managed to heal so completely, but this time I will leave a mark on your
body that will not disappear.”
Melissa took a deep
breath. For the first time in
hours she could breathe normally.
She glared at Featherstone with from a tear-stained face, but she
no longer sobbed. She had regained
control as soon as Featherstone had stopped raping
her. The pain of the rape had
been bad, but it was not the reason she had
cried. It was the humiliation
and frustration of being at the mercy of an insatiable brute that had brought
tears to her eyes. She now channeled
her anger toward the Englishman into a defence mechanism that bolstered her
defiance.
“You’re a tough little bitch,
aren’t you?” asked Featherstone, seeing the look on her
face. “But we’ll see
how long you stand up to this.”
He brandished the thorn-studded vine in front of her
eyes.
Melissa forced herself to remain cool, practicing
the relaxation exercises that Larra had begun to teach
her. She doubted that she would
be able to hold out for long, but she was determined to put up as bold a
front as possible. She kept her
face calm and emotionless, even though she was absolutely
terrified. She was also about
to collapse. Her splayed legs
could no longer support her weight.
But as her legs buckled, Featherstone found a way to help her
stand. He untied her wrists and
then pulling her erect, tied each of her arms to the same saplings that her
legs were tied to. Now her weight
was supported by the cloth ties that bound her
wrists.
Melissa grasped the ties, holding herself
up, and relieving the tension on her
legs. “That’s it, Miss
Gallant,” Featherstone mocked.
“Keep a tight grip on
yourself. Now let’s see
what you are really made of.”
Melissa cringed as she heard the rush of the
vine as Feartherstone swung it at her
back. She gritted her teeth hoping
that she could hold back her shriek of
pain. She lasted until the third
blow. The thorns of the vine
first cut into her back, leaving a brutal welt that was studded with
cuts. The second ripped the tender
flesh of her backside. Both blows
were excruciatingly painful, but Melissa bore up under both of
them. But the third time Featherstone
struck her; he brought his primitive lash down across her
breasts. Melissa’s cry of
pain was so sharp that for a second the noise of the rainforest was
stilled. After that she screamed
each time the lash struck any part of her
body.
Featherstone kept up the merciless assault
until the girl was pleading for mercy.
Melissa lost rack of the number of times she was flogged.
“Aagghh!” she
screamed.
“Stop!
Stop!
Stop! Please
stop!”
Featherstone ignored her cries for mercy,
stopping only when his throat was dry from the exertion and he was dripping
with sweat. When he was finished,
Melissa’s tall, full-breasted body was crisscrossed with bloody welts
and she hung limply from her bonds, no longer possessing the strength to
hold herself upright. She was
still conscious, but just barely.
Her breasts were badly lacerated, and were her buttocks, and
thighs. And gory weals decorated
her back and belly. Only her
shallow breathing indicated that she was still
alive.
Featherstone stepped up to her and lifted
her chin. Melissa was scarcely
able to focus her eyes on her torturer’s
face. “Not so high and mighty
now are we Miss Gallant?”
Melissa’s only reply was a low
groan. She hardly knew what was
happening to her. Featherstone
let her head drop. “I’d
like to pleasure you one more time before I leave, but it is time for me
to be off, and I don’t want to bloody my
clothes. But first, something
to remember me by.” He strode
over to a nearby thorn bush. It
was a particularly nasty species.
Taking care not to scratch himself on its four inch barbed thorns,
he snapped off a handful. Returning
to the semi-conscious girl, he jabbed several into each breast, piercing
her areola several times. Then
he went to one knee, and folding aside the lips of her vulva, pierced her
labia majora as well. This assault
on her most private areas got the desired
response. Melissa’s eyes
snapped open, and she began to whimper.
Grabbing the back of her head, Featherstone placed a tongue filled
kiss on her mouth, biting her lower lip as he pulled
away. “Good bye, Miss
Gallant. I have enjoyed our brief
acquaintance.” He turned
away from her and headed off into the
forest. There was no point in
killing the moaning girl. Already
the ants and other scavengers were
gathering. It would take her
quite awhile to die. And being
eaten alive was more painful than anything he could
devise.
Larra hurried through the
forest. It had taken her awhile
to pick up the trail left by Featherstone and
Melissa. She had sent a message
for Sawatis and Lemaire to follow her as soon as they were able, but she
could not wait for them. Her
meeting with the vengeful Takla had taken longer than she would have
liked. The Suruani queen was
bent on revenge and wanted to slaughter every single Lelawabi male, right
down to the smallest child. Only
the fact that Takla regarded her with a mixture of awe and superstition had
given her the moral authority to prevail upon her to change her
mind. She had expected
Melissa to show up soon after she had left the thoth’s lair and when
the girl had not materialized, she had set off to find
her. When she learned that she
had followed Featherstone into the maze of tunnels beneath the stadium, she
had hurried after her.
Melissa’s trail and the terrified testimony of the Suruani warrior
who had gone with her enabled Larra to determine what had happened to her
friend. Featherstone had captured
her again, and there was no telling what that psychopath might do to the
inexperienced Canadian girl.
Larra moved at a jogging
pace. She was hot and tired and
the sweat from her exertion stained her clothes, but she had to move as fast
as she dared. Even a few seconds
might be the difference between saving her friend or finding her
dead. She might have been a little
more cautious if she had realized that as she moved rapidly between the giant
trees of the forest over a score of eyes watched her
progress.
Desari had barely escaped with his
life. Only the fact that he knew
of the secret passageways beneath the city had allowed him and a few of his
warriors to escape the city. His
empire and his life were in ruins, but he still
lived. Once out of the city,
he and his men had moved into the forest and then moved as quietly and quickly
as possible away from his conquered
capital. None of the men talked
and they listened constantly for the sounds of pursuit, but for the first
hour or so they heard nothing. Then
came the sounds of footsteps as someone moved at a trot through the
forest.
At first Desari nearly panicked, but then
settled down once he determined that the sound was made by only a single
runner. Motioning to his men,
he had them move back from the trail and watch concealed as the runner
approached. Desari’s eyes
widened in astonishment when he saw the tall dark-haired demon jog into
view. Apprehensively he watched
the demon jog toward him. He
had a morbid fear of the power that the white strangers possessed, but he
noticed that this one was armed with only a
spear. Perhaps the demons could
be beaten after all. It
seemed impossible that the strange woman could be alone, but it was clear
that there was no one with her, and it took only a few seconds for Desari
to signal his mean into action.
Larra was not aware of her danger until three
Lelawabi warriors stepped into her path.
Her reaction was immediate.
She was carrying a spear and her martial arts training had prepared
her well for such a weapon. Holding
the spear like a staff, she prepared to meet the
attack. She did not see the seven
warriors that came at her from the sides and behind until it was too
late.
Even so, they paid a
price. She parried the spear
thrust of the one to her left and ripped open his throat with a slash of
her spear. Then without stopping,
she struck the warrior to her right between the eyes with the
shaft. Still a third warrior
went down as she sidestepped his attack and ruptured his groin with a front
thrust kick. But that still left
seven attackers, and at such close quarters she could not avoid them
all. A spear pierced the muscles
of her right arm, and another took her in her left
side. The latter would have been
a fatal had she not caught part of the thrust with her left
hand. But the two injuries were
enough. Her right arm was useless,
the muscles cut through. And
the pain of her other wound made her gasp in
agony. Immediately the remaining
warriors closed in for the kill.
“Wait!”
Desari shouted. “Take
the demon alive and bind her.”
Larra attempted to avoid being captured, using
her single good arm to strike out as her foes closed on
her. But there were simply too
many to take on all at once. Her
spear was knocked aside and her arms
seized. Although she was taller
and probably stronger than any of her foes, collectively they simply overwhelmed
her. She gritted her teeth as
her injured arm was forced behind her back along with her good
one. She was pushed to her knees
to prevent her deadly feet from striking out and a short length of wood pushed
behind her back. Her arms were
bent around it and tied in front and then at the elbows so she would not
be able to slide the wooden shaft out.
Then she was hauled to her feet and a length of rope tied about her
neck. It was tied in the middle
so that a warrior could hold it on either side and prevent her from moving
any direction except the one her captors
wanted.
“Quickly,” Desari
ordered. “Take her away
from the main trail. There may
be others following behind her.”
Larra almost fell as she was jerked
forward. Her escort moved at
a slow run, forcing her to jog in order to keep
up. They moved a few hundred
feet farther into the forest before halting.
“Stop here,” said
Desari. “This should be
far enough for now. But just
in case, make sure she can’t scream for
help.”
While Larra stood helplessly, her captors
tore a strip off her shirt and fashioning a crude gag, stuffed it into her
mouth. Desari looked at the strange
women who had caused so much trouble for
him. Crushingly defeated, he
could think of no one else to blame other than the paled-skinned demon who
had come so unexpectedly into his
kingdom. He was determined to
punish her, but first he wanted her to experience the humiliation of a gang
rape. “Strip her,”
he ordered.
His men needed little
urging. Larra’s shirt had
been torn open in the fight revealing a good deal of her sumptuous
bosom. In a few seconds they
removed what was left of her shirt and then unbuckled her
pants. Larra struggled to escape
from the humiliation of being undressed, but she was already weak from loss
of blood. Her arm had not been
tended to and the large gash in it had bled steadily ever since her
capture. Her weakness made it
easy for her captors to strip her naked.
As she struggled Larra cursed her headstrong
stupidity. She was mortified
to have fallen yet again into another
ambush. It seemed that she never
learned. And yet, she had not
really had a choice. With Melissa
missing and obviously kidnapped by Featherstone, she had been forced to throw
caution to the winds. The problem
was that she was now probably in the same predicament as Melissa and of no
help to her friend at all. Once
again she tried futilely to break free, her breasts jiggling as she tried
to kick her captors as they removed the last of her
clothing.
Desari watched, fascinated by the erotic
display. He had captured a
demon! And soon he would be doing
with her as he chose. He licked
his lips in anticipation as he observed the white woman’s weakening
struggles. He would never have
believed that a woman so pale could be so perfectly
formed. But he also saw that
his victim was close to fainting from loss of
blood. That would not
do. Motioning to one of his warriors
he ordered that the gash in her arm be bandaged and that something be done
about the lesser wound in her side.
Larra winced as cloth torn from her own shirt
was used to bind her wounds. Her
captors were none too gentle about how they applied the bandages, but at
least the bleeding was staunched.
Now she only had to worry about being raped and
tortured. She knew now that she
was in the hands of the Lelawabi monarch, having recognized Desari from his
more elaborate regalia. That
did not bode well for her. She
knew from the look that Desari had given her that she could expect little
mercy from the defeated king.
Desari stood in front of her, his hands on
his hips. Bloodied, bound, and
defeated the demon stood with head held
high. He had to admire her
courage. She reminded him of
Takla before her humiliation. At
the thought of the Suruani queen his face
darkened. He had thought her
defeated and yet she had miraculously managed to rise from the ashes of defeat
to drive him from his city. His
eyes narrowed as he looked at the helpless female in front of
him. It was certain that the
demon had in some way been responsible for his defeat and
humiliation. He would take his
revenge and it would be as long and painful as he could make
it.
He moved
closer. “You will pay for
siding with the Suruani, demon. You
will die screaming before I am through with
you. And your death will not
be a quick one. I will hurt you
like you have never been hurt before.”
“Spoken like the coward you are,”
retorted Larra. Her voice was
calm and clear and gave no hint of the pain and discomfort she was
feeling.
Desari’s eyes went wide with
surprise. He had not expected
the demon to speak, much less in his own
language. Unsettled by the reply
he took a step backward. A quick
look around showed him that his men were as taken aback as he
was. Then his face darkened once
more. The demon had shamed him
again. It was time she was
punished.
Larra knew that her single comment had made
quite an impact. She had insulted
Desari in front of his own men and she was not surprised when he stepped
forward and with clenched fist struck her across the
face. The blow rocked her back
on her heels and she would have fallen if two of the warriors guarding her
had not caught hold of the wooden pole that bound her
arms. “White bitch!”
Desari snarled. “I’ll
teach you not to attempt to shame a
king.” He unfastened the
white kilt that covered his loins revealing a proud
erection. Gesturing to his men
he indicated that they should spread the legs of his victim, and then he
stepped forward.
Larra grunted in pain as Desari drove into
her. He was not especially
well-endowed, but he had made no effort to lubricate his member before raping
her, and the penetration was difficult and
painful. Helplessly Larra endured
the pain and humiliation of being raped yet
again. She was held by four of
Desari’s warriors. Two held
her arms and two others spread her legs.
They held her off the ground so that Desari could take her from a
standing position. This made
it easy for him to squeeze and fondle her breasts as he raped her, and he
was not gentle about it. She
clenched her teeth and tried not to think about what was being done to
her. After a few minutes, however,
her breathing became labored and she had to fight hard not to show her
distress. She never got used
to being raped, no matter how many times it happened to
her. She almost cried out as
Desari took hold of both her nipples and pulled and then twisted
them. Closing her eyes she arched
her back against the pain. It
was an involuntary action, but Desari
smiled. It was the reaction he
had hoped for. Shifting his grip
to her tight buttocks, he thrust in as deep as he could and was rewarded
by a slight grunt from his victim.
But Larra made no other sound after that, not even when he leaned
forward and sank his teeth into her left
breast. Angered, but finally
climaxing, Desari ejaculated into his victim and then
withdrew. Now it was the turn
of his warriors.
Larra lay breathing harshly, helpless to prevent
what was happening to her but seething with anger, much of which was directed
at herself for falling so clumsily into Desari’s
clutches. The remaining warriors
dumped her on the ground and completely surrounded
her. Then the gang rape
began. One warrior situated himself
between her legs and entered her quickly.
Another straddled her neck, removed her gag and forced his thick phallus
into her mouth. Larra tried to
bite and suffered a series of blows to her face as a
result. Chastened, she allowed
her assailant to have his way, almost gagging as he forced his rod right
to the back of her throat. Hands
seemed to be everywhere. Fingers
were inserted into her anus; her breasts were squeezed, pinched, and pulled;
and fists punched her hard enough to drive the breath from her
body. Her ravishers wanted not
only to humiliate her but hurt her as
well. To them she was more than
just a captured enemy. She symbolized
the centuries long enmity that had existed between the male dominated culture
of the Lelawabi and the female dominated culture of the
Suruani. Both sexes commonly
brutalized the warriors they captured.
But Larra was more than that.
She also represented an invader from beyond their
world. Someone who was strange
beyond belief with her white skin and unnatural
height. And being strange meant
that she was to be feared. And
those that were feared were to be humiliated and
punished.
Somewhere about the fifth or sixth time she
was raped – Larra had lost track by this time – one of the warriors
ordered her to be flipped over.
Then he spread her buttocks and attempted to enter her tight
anus. Larra clenched her sphincter
muscles, denying her ravisher entry.
“The demon bitch still fights!” exclaimed one of the
warriors. She must be beaten
to end her resistance.”
“No,” said
Desari. “I have a more painful
lesson for her. Bend her across
this log.” He pointed to
where a large tree had come down in a recent
storm. Its trunk was about a
foot thick and it was about a two feet off the
ground. Helpless to stop her
violators, Larra was dragged over to the tree and bent into
position. She wasn’t sure
what Desari had in mind, but she was certain it would be
painful. She could hear the sound
of someone, probably Desari hacking away at some
tree. The chopping sound stopped
and was replaced by the distinctive sound of wood being
shaved. With sudden horror Larra
realized what the king was up to.
“Let’s see how well the demon resists
this,” said Desari. A quick
glance behind her confirmed her worst
fears. Desari was holding a crude
dildo in his hands, really nothing more than a sharpened stake about a foot
long and two inches thick. Desari
made sure she saw it, and then with a cruel grin, he approached
her. Larra felt her buttocks
tighten even before her reached her, but it was not her backside he went
after, at least not at first.
Instead he shoved the wooden stake into her
vagina. Despite the fact that
the ejaculations of a half dozen men had lubricated her love canal, the intrusion
of the wooden phallus within her was still very
painful.
Larra gasped, a frightened moan escaping her
lips as the dildo was thrust home.
Pain flooded through her as her nether region was suddenly and viciously
penetrated. Even the coating
of seminal fluid within her could not shield her from the agony of the wooden
monstrosity. Desari made sure
that the pain of the brutal intrusion was maximized by twisting the dildo
as it penetrated deep within her.
She was almost sobbing in pain by the time he was
finished. And then she screamed
long and loud, as without warning Desari switched the target area, removing
the dildo from her vagina and driving it forcefully into her
anus. Lubricated by the blood
and sperm of her vagina the cruel instrument ripped through her defences
with excruciating agony.
Larra had known what the Lelawabi monarch
was up to; even expected it, but that in no way lessened the aguish she suffered
as her tight anus was drilled like a
well. She screamed again, and
so loudly that Desari ordered her gagged.
After that she made less noise, her muffled cries punctuating her
frantic efforts to escape. Desari
raped her backside for a good hour before he was satisfied with his
efforts. During that time
Larra’s muted shrieks never ceased during the entire
ordeal. Then, pleased with the
results of his improvisation, he pulled out the dildo and let his men have
their way with her once more.
This time Larra did not resist when her assailant
attempted anal intercourse. Too
brutalized and exhausted to resist she sobbed quietly as they finished her
off. By that time many of the
warriors had regained their erections and a second round of rape
began. It lasted for another
two hours. Then, tiring of the
sport, Desari called his men off.
He dared not remain in the area much
longer. It was very likely that
the victorious Suruani might stumble upon his
men. It was necessary that he
leave as soon as possible. But
he had no intention of taking the white demon with
him. He would leave her behind
as a warning to those who dared oppose
him.
Larra groaned as she was jerked to her
feet. The pain between her legs
was so great that she found it impossible to move and she had to be dragged
to where Desari wanted her. She
watched silently, her terror mounting as she saw what Desari’s men were
up to. A sapling about four inches
in diameter had been cut down at a height approximately that of her
navel. The bark had been stripped
from the trunk and the top had been sharpened to a
point. Its phallic shape was
obvious and Larra had no doubt of its
purpose. Her body went cold at
she was dragged toward it and lifted into the
air.
As the point of the tree trunk parted her
vulva she whimpered in fear and no small degree of
pain. She was about to suffer
a cruel and horribly painful death.
There was only one chance for
survival. As she was lowered
onto the stake she tightened her ravaged
vagina. It did her little
good. Her captors made sure that
she was well and truly impaled before tying her in place so that there was
no chance she could remove herself from the brutal
stake. Ropes were tied to each
of her arms and fastened to trees on either side of her and her ankles were
tethered to the bottoms of the same
trees. Only Larra’s superb
conditioning enabled her to survive for more than a few
minutes. With every bit of her
remaining strength she clenched her vaginal muscles, preventing the stake
from penetrating her vitals. But
her endurance was almost gone. It
was only a matter of time before gravity won out and she died in frightening
agony.
Desari settled down to watch her
death. “Can your powers
save you now, demon?” he taunted.
“I see now that you are no more that a feeble woman, helpless
before your true master.” To
further show his content he stepped to within a yard of the struggling women
and spat in her face. “You
are nothing to me,” he continued.
“I am going to enjoy your death
screams.” At that moment
a noise from the forest caused him to turn his
head. Almost as one the king
and all of his warriors turned toward the
sound. A look of frustration,
followed by a sort of grim joy swept over his
face. “So,” he
said. I will not be able to watch
you die after all. But I suspect
it will be even more horrible than I
imagined.” He signaled to
his men and they jogged off into the forest.
Larra
was now alone. Her body trembled
with the effort of holding her body where it was, and yet, she could feel
her body slowly settling onto the stake.
A millimetre at a time she was slowly sinking to her death and as
she did so the excruciating pain in her vagina increased
exponentially. Six inches of
the tree trunk were now deep inside her.
He body slipped another inch.
She was weakening. With
a sob, Larra realized that she was only minutes away from a cruel and degrading
death. And then she too heard
the sound that had sent Desari packing.
It was actually a number of
sounds. A kind of snuffling grunting
mingled with growls and the sharp crack of branches being snapped off as
heavy bodies moved through the forest.
In a haze of pain she looked toward the
sound. The undergrowth parted
and several monstrous forms emerged, smashing small trees out of their way
with ease. Now Larra knew why
Desari had fled. It was the
thoth! An entire family of
them!
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