MODESTY BLAISE

The Adventures of Modesty Blaise

Episode 1 The Lhasa Incident

This pathetic effort is a parody and is only remotely intended to resemble the characters created by Peter O’Donnell. Other than the names and images of some of the characters all work is original and any resemblance to any of Mr. O’Donnell’s works is purely accidental.

Chapter 5 Lhasa

WILLIE GARVIN watched as Modesty strode up the path ahead of him. He cursed under his breath at his stupidity in letting her out of his sight. But how was he to know that the man Tarrant had assigned to accompany them would turn out to be little more than a damned pervert? From now on she would stay where he could keep an eye on her.

Of course, he couldn’t tell her that. If there was one thing Modesty hated it was being coddled and he had been forced to disguise his efforts to help her after she returned. Since she would not speak of what had happened he could only guess what Rawlins had done to her, but it didn’t take much imagination to figure it out. She had returned exhausted, and try as she might she could not disguise her obvious fatigue. Knowing she would not accept any help Willie had spoken quietly to Abhik and gotten him to slow the pace. Fortunately there had been a spate of bad weather the day following Modesty’s sudden reappearance and it had given Abhik the excuse to call a complete halt.

The extra two days of rest seemed to have worked physically, but Modesty had remained moody and uncommunicative for more than a week and Willie knew that inside she was tearing herself up, blaming herself for whatever had happened. But in the days after crossing the Tibetan border had she returned to something like her old self. A true professional, Modesty appeared to have put the incident with Rawlins behind her and was once again completely focused on the mission. It was a welcome change, but Willie watched her anyway, watching for any sign that she might need his assistance.

“Fat chance of that, chum,” he muttered as he quickened his pace. Modesty Blaise was the toughest and most resilient woman he had ever known. The chances that she would need his shoulder to cry on were about the same as his chances of being nominated for sainthood, and Willie hadn’t been to church in decades.

Up ahead the lead Sherpa suddenly halted and Willie quickened his pace, moving up to stand beside Modesty. “There it is,” Modesty said. “Now we just have to find our way to the Potala.”

Willie took out his field glasses and tuned in on the massive palace. Even at this distance some of the damage done to the architectural wonder by the invading Chinese could be seen. “Bastards,” he heard Modesty mutter. “There really is nothing worse than ideological fanaticism.”

There was no need for Willie to comment. He handed Modesty the glasses, and stepped back, holding in a sigh of relief. Her remark was the first time she had sounded like her old self since the incident. It was just as well. Tomorrow they would have to find their way to what had once been the residence of the Dalai Lama.

THEY MADE it to the Potala without incident. However, it had not been easy and the skills Modesty and Willie had developed in half a decade of somewhat shadowy activity had been more than useful. The huge palace was, of course, closed to the public, and was watched over by members of the Chinese army.

The Tibetan capital was a depressing place, still displaying the ruins of the Chinese invasion and with more than ample evidence of the communist skills in running an economy. Willy hadn’t seen so many drab and derelict buildings since the last time he had visited East Berlin. “Not much of a place, Princess,” he murmured.

“No,” Modesty agreed, “but it once was.” She nodded toward the Potala, still magnificent in spite of the damage done to it during the Chinese sacking of the palace. It loomed over them, rising hundreds of feet in whitewashed splendour up the mountainside.

It would have been very convenient if they could have walked straight in, but the palace was off limits to the general population and kept that way by the Chinese army. As a result instead of scaling the series of staircases that led into the structure they were going to have to make their way up the steep slope to a point where they could use their climbing gear to scale the walls. Their target was the Red Hill at the very top of the structure. Once there they would use the map they had obtained from Kozlov and attempt to work their way through the maze of rooms until they reached the hiding place of the Heart of Tibet. It would be no easy task. The map was crude at best and they would have to be careful that their penetration of the palace was not detected.

“Let’s go,” Modesty said. “We’ve got six hours before morning and we’ll probably need all of that time.”

It had taken them several hours to move from the outskirts of Lhasa to their present position below the palace. Now they faced a stiff climb in the dark followed by the task of climbing the sheer walls of the palace. It would have been a daunting task in broad daylight. In addition, they were also hampered by the thin air. They would have to rest frequently if they were not to become exhausted. To help them out both Willie and Modesty carried small cylinders of oxygen. It would be enough, they hoped, to enable them to complete their task.

It took them two hours to work their way up the steep brush-covered slope to the base of the wall. There they rested for a half hour before using the small crossbow they had brought to fire a grappling hook to the top of the wall. They had no idea whether or not that particular section would be guarded, but the odds were in their favour that it would not be. The Chinese had no reason to expect that anyone would be desperate enough to actually want to break into the palace and it was unlikely that the walls would be guarded.

Modesty went first, bracing her feet against the wall and walking her way most of the way up. Only near the last few feet did she have to rely completely on the strength of her arms to finish the climb. Reaching the top, she quickly scouted for guards and then jerked on the rope to let Willie know it was safe to follow.

The central area of the Potala, known as the Red Hill loomed before them. It was a massive architectural masterpiece rising almost three hundred feet above the top of the hill. Inside was a complex maze of hundreds of rooms, but it was not any of these that they were seeking. Instead the crudely drawn map indicated that they were to search the ancient foundations of the Red Hill.

It was dangerous. There was no doubt about that. Just getting into Tibet risked being thrown into a Chinese prison. And the Chinese were incredibly patient jailers. They thought nothing of keeping someone in jail for as long as it suited them; even if it meant the victim of incarceration never saw the light of day again.

But it was nothing that Willie and Modesty had not done before. And in this particular enterprise there was something strongly in their favour. The Chinese had no reason to suspect that there was anything of value in the Red Hill. It was guarded, but more to keep out any former monks who might have escaped the Chinese purge of their members; or any of the Buddhist faithful who might seek entry to the holy sites within the palace. They would not be expecting anyone like Modesty or Willie, and as a result once they were past the guards on the outside of the palace there should be no one guarding the long deserted passages that they sought.

“I’m ready, Princess.” Willie said, after Modesty had waited a few minutes to recover his wind after the climb. “Let’s finish this dash-and-grab and get out of ‘ere.”

Modesty nodded and moved silently toward the bulk of the Red Hill, which could now be seen only as a huge black shadow against the night sky. Moving from shadow to shadow so as to avoid any guards who might just happen to be watching, it took half an hour to reach the immense building and then sneak into one of its many entrances. As Modesty had hoped the building was almost deserted and they did not encounter a single guard as they sought the entrance to the lower levels of the palace.

Slowly they worked their way down staircase after darkened staircase. In spite of the danger they were forced to make use of a needle thin light to find their way, but everything went well and another half hour of skulking brought them to the section of the Potala they sought. They were facing a blank wall at the bottom of a staircase deep in the bowels of the palace. “Interesting that no one noticed this stairway went nowhere,” Modesty commented.

“I doubt anyone’s been down ‘ere for a dog’s years,” Willie commented. He took out a hammer and chisel. “Now let’s see how accurate that map is.” Wrapping a length of cloth around the head of the hammer he placed the chisel against the wall and tapped lightly. With a slight crunch the seemingly solid stone gave way, revealing that it was nothing more than thin plaster. “Right, so far so good.” He tapped with the hammer again, driving a line straight down the wall. Within minutes he had cut a hole large enough for him and Modesty to enter.

Modesty bent forward and shone her light into the opening. It revealed little more than blackness. Modesty took a deep breath. “Well, it’s not far now. In half and hour or so we should know if this map is really worth the millions than Kozlov paid for it.”

“Princess,” Willie said quietly, his voice suddenly tinged with alarm. “There’s a light coming down the stairs.”

“Damn,” Modesty whispered. “It can’t be chance. Someone must know we’re here.” Her Berretta was already in her hand.

“Bloody ‘ell, Princess we’re like rats in a ‘ole ‘ere. We’ve got to chance the opening.”

Modesty saw that Willie was right. Trapped at the bottom of the stairs, there was no way to go but toward the descending light, and they were completely at the mercy of anyone at the top of the stairs if it came to a fight. They would have to chance the hidden passage they had found.

“Quickly then,” Modesty urged. She ducked into the dark opening just as the sound of heavy boots on the stairs sounded above them and the light grew brighter.

Inside the hidden passage they found themselves in a long corridor that ran with a definite downward slope as far into the darkness as they could see. With the sounds of pursuit coming closer they had little choice but to push on, but the thought entered Modesty’s mind that if there was no way out then all their pursuers would have to was wait until they ran out of food and water. Sooner or later she and Willie would have to come out.

“Come on,” Modesty said. “We might as well see where this goes.” It was a little bit of desperation. She had studied the map long enough to remember that the particular passage led to another maze of corridors. Down one of them was the hidden cache of gems, but that was little consolation. There was no way out that she could remember.

Behind them they could now hear shouting and then a crash as someone smashed a larger hole in the plaster wall. A light suddenly shone toward them, but by then they were far enough Modesty doubted that they could be seen. Even so, she and Willie both increased their speed.

They passed by the corridor that supposedly led to the hidden treasure. Modesty knew it was a complete dead end. Their only hope was to get into the maze of corridors and lose their pursers in the twists and turns of the labyrinth.

Suddenly there was a burst of automatic weapons fire from behind them. Someone was firing blind into the darkness. Fortunately he aimed high, the bullets ricocheting off the stone ceiling. Nevertheless, Modesty and Willie lost time by diving to the floor.

There was a shouted command in Chinese and the shooting stopped, but the sound of heavy boots thundering through the darkness drove them to their feet again and on down the corridor. With their tiny light barely lighting the way, Modesty and Willie plunged on. They were now beyond what the map had shown and essentially running blind. Neither of them saw the pit until they were stepping into it.

Modesty landed with a thump. By sheer good luck, the pit was no more than five feet deep, but it was a good twelve feet across and the impact with the floor tumbled her across to the other side, knocking the wind out of her. Willie, who was a step or so behind, fell after her and just missed landing his two hundred pounds on top of her. The air went out of him with a “woof” and he lay beside Modesty gasping for air.

The sound of running boots came closer and then several flashlights shone into their eyes, blinding them. Modesty twisted her body, concealing the map, and stuffed it into a crack in the stone floor. Orders were shouted down at them in Chinese and there was little doubt what was being said, but Modesty held onto her pistol until another voice spoke in heavily accented English.

“Throw down your weapons, English. We know who you are. Raise your hands over your head. You have no chance. Do it now or we shoot.”

Modesty let her Berretta drop. With luck no one would find the map. Beside her Willie did the same, however, he made no effort to rid himself of the several knives he had hidden about his person. Their captors, however, were taking no chances. Blinded by the lights, Modesty and Willie squinted up at their captors, but could make out only dim shadows. It was clear, though that they were in a hopeless situation and as a result when the next command came they had little choice but to obey.

“Take off clothes, now. All of them. Do it fast or we shoot.”

After the requisite moment of hesitation both Modesty and Willie slowly began to strip. They dropped each garment at their feet, hoping that somehow their captors would be stupid enough to allow them access to the weapons hidden in various secret pockets, but there was no such luck.

They finally stood clad in nothing but their underclothes, but that was still not enough for the man giving the orders. “All clothes off!”

Reluctantly, Modesty obeyed. She felt the apprehension within her rise as she let her bra drop and then peeled her panties down her long smooth legs. “Now you come over here. Hands over head,” the man commanded.

Felling incredibly vulnerable Modesty did as she was told. She had to consciously focus on controlling her breathing as she stepped to the edge of the pit. Cold metal met her wrists and there were two sharp clicks as the handcuffs were snapped in place. Then hands gripped her wrists and she was lifted from the pit. Once out of the pit she expected the man who had lifted her to let go, but that did not happed. Instead he continued to grip her wrists holding her arms in front of her while another man circled behind her. Then she felt fingers part her buttocks while she was searched in her most intimate places.

“You bastards.” Willie raged. “I’ll ‘ave yer guts for that.”

“It’s alright, Willie,” Modesty said, keeping her voice calm. “There’s nothing we can do.” Completely at the mercy of their captors, Modesty knew that there only chance was to remain calm and wait for any possible chance to escape. Raging at their captors would not help.

Willie knew it too. He immediately shut his mouth and waited for his turn. It came soon enough. Satisfied that Modesty was not concealing anything within her body cavities, she was pulled to one side and forced to her knees under guard, while Willie was hauled from the pit and given the same treatment. At the same time one of the men jumped into the pit and retrieved their clothing.

“You come with us now,” their head captor said. Modesty could see now that he was a big man, towering over his Chinese compatriots. He had short black hair on a bullet head and broad powerful shoulders. Like the rest of his men he was dressed in the drab colours of the Chinese military, his rank distinguish only by two small red stars on his collar.

Modesty and Willie were allowed to get to their feet, but to make sure they did not try anything a rope was tied around each of their necks, connecting them. Modesty was placed in front of Willie and another rope was tied around her neck and held by a man in front. The same thing was done to Willie, only the man who held his rope walked behind. Tethered both front and rear, escape was impossible and in this fashion they were led back the way they had come.

They climbed stair after stair until they reached a part of the palace close to where they had entered. By the time they reached the end of the climb both Modesty and Willie were sweating in spite of their nude condition. But for Modesty there was more to the long climb than the effort it took. Nude and handcuffed, she felt the eyes of her captors upon her. The fact that Willie had been stripped as well did not matter. She doubted very much that his body held the same attraction to their captors as hers did. She could hear murmured comments in Chinese as the men looked her over, and although she could not understand what was being said, their hand gestures said a great deal. It was obvious that they found her pale skin and relatively large breasts interesting and she could not help thinking of what had happened to her before in similar circumstances.

They were marched to a row of what appeared to be monastic cells. One of these was thrown open and Willie was released from the rope and pushed inside. Then the door was slammed shut and a heavy deadbolt thrown. Modesty expected to be put in an adjoining cell, but the officer commanding her captors shook his head. “Not for you. For you we have something special.”

Modesty had to fight back her fear as the officer spoke. The tone was menacing, and clearly intended to intimidate her, but for Modesty even knowing that he was trying to frighten her did not make matters any easier, and her fear rose as she was led off with the officer in the lead. This time with Willie no longer tethered to her she was paraded between two soldiers, one holding a rope in front and another behind. As before, there was no chance to escape and she was marched through the dark corridors of the palace until they entered a medium sized room.

Modesty shuddered as she looked around her. She had seen places where people had been tortured before and this was certainly one of them. Long chains ending in manacles hung from the ceiling and on a shelf against one of the walls was piled what was clearly electrical equipment. There was a table in the middle of the room on which were several short pieces of rubber hose. On another self were several tools; hammers, pliers, and a number of sharp instruments. Several large buckets of water and a large copper tub were neatly lined up in one corner. The floor was stained with what could have been dried blood, feces, or both. It was a gruesome place and it took all of Modesty’s self control not to tremble in fear.

Modesty was herded to the centre of the room where she was allowed to stand and think about what was going to happen to her. Then the big Chinese officer moved over to her. “I am Lieutenant Chow Lien. I am going to tell you what I know and what I don’t know. I know that you are the British criminal, Modesty Blaise. You are wanted by my government for many crimes and I can assure you that you will be tried and punished for them. I also know that you came here to find the hidden treasure called the Heart of Tibet and I know that you had a map to guide you. What I don’t know is where you hid that map. I expected to find it on your person, but it appears that you either hid the map or memorized it and then destroyed it.

Chow paused, apparently to let all of this sink in, then he continued. “You are going to tell me where the map is or if you have memorized it then you are going to escort me to where the treasure is. If you do not I am going to enjoy forcing you to tell me what you know.”

Chow waited, but Modesty said nothing. Chow had pretty well laid it out. He was going to torture her to make her talk. She doubted that there was anything she could say to make him change his mind, and from the way he had spoken and the way his eyes had traveled over her body she knew he was looking forward to it.

“Perhaps you would prefer that I bring your lover in here and let you watch while I torture him. It would be interesting to see how much pain you would let him endure before you cracked.” As he spoke Chow studied her, clearly gauging her reaction. He was looking for the slightest sign of weakness and Modesty gave him none. In spite of her terrifying circumstances and Chow’s continued threats she acted as if nothing he said had the least bit of influence on her. The threat to Willie affected her deeply, but she knew Chow would act on it at once if he thought it was the key to extracting information.

“You are a cold one,” Chow said. “You care nothing for the one you love?”

“You underestimate me,” Modesty finally replied, her tone dripping with contempt. “Do you really think I would place the man I love in danger? Garvin is my employee, nothing else. A hired mercenary. Do what you want to him.”

Chow silently considered her words, and then nodded. “Then it will have to be you. Do you not value your beauty?”

“My beauty does not matter,” Modesty said. “You have threatened me with torture, but have given me no incentive to tell you what I know other than the promise of further punishment. Perhaps if you agreed to free me I might consider trading some information for it.”

“I make no bargains with capitalist criminals,” Chow answered. “You will tell me what I want to know or you will suffer.”

Modesty had drawn out the inevitable as long as possible. She suspected that Chow probably had it in mind to torture her even if she gave in completely. However, at the last second she pretended to break. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll take you to the treasure. But I want my clothes. I’m freezing.”

The look Chow gave her clearly indicated disappointment, but he nodded. “I’ll give you back your shirt and pants. Then you show me.”

It was apparent the lure of finding the fabled treasure was more important than drawing out the event by torturing her and Modesty was allowed to pull on her trousers. However, the handcuffs were not removed and her shirt was draped over her shoulders and the sleeves pulled under her armpits and tied beneath her breasts to keep it on. It was not what Modesty had in mind, but Chow gave her no other option. “Now you show me,” he ordered. He emphasized the point by turning her toward the door and pushing her in the desired direction.

Modesty feigned exhaustion, keeping her pace slow and gasping for breath. All the while she looked for some chance to escape. She had no real plan, she was just looking for any opening that might enable her to catch her captors off guard. However, she also had to be patient and wait until any attempt might have some chance of success. She guessed that the long flights of stairs might offer the best chance and she was proved correct.

As they descended once again into the depths of the palace, Modesty noticed that her guards were strung out single file. But more importantly, they seemed lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that she had offered not the slightest resistance. She was still tethered, with a soldier holding the ropes both front and back, but they had allowed the rope to go slack and no longer appeared to be holding very tight. In addition, the number of escorts had been greatly reduced. There had been over a dozen men present when she and Willie had been taken prisoner. Now there was just Chow and four others. It should have been more than enough to deal with a lone woman, but Modesty hoped to prove that wrong.

She tripped on the bottom step as she neared one of the landings. Tensing her neck muscles and ignoring the pain of the rope as it tightened about her throat, she jerked the rope from the hands of the man following her. The man let out a curse and tried to recover it, but Modesty was already moving. The slow pace she had been allowed to set had allowed her to recover much of her strength and she launched herself at the two men in front of her.

She struck the closest man in the chest with both of her fists, knocking him from the landing and driving him into the man below him. They both toppled backward in a tangle of limbs, tumbling down several of the stone steps. Modesty was already moving in the other direction, tackling the men above her before they had a chance to use their weapons. Stupidly the guard nearest her had grabbed for the rope instead of drawing his gun. Since Modesty was leaping toward him that proved to be a useless acquisition. She reached out, caught the cuffs of his trousers and jerked hard, yanking his legs out from under him. He slammed down hard on the steps his head cracking like a coconut. Even before he finished falling Modesty was darting past him toward the fourth guard. This man had time to draw his pistol, but he had not time to pull the trigger before Modesty slapped the barrel aside and then drove her cuffed fists between his legs. It had the desired effect. With a scream of pain the man collapsed, clutching at his private parts. Now only Chow remained.

The huge man loomed over her, a grin on his face. Surprisingly although he had more than enough time to draw his gun he had not done so, instead he leered down at her without the slightest race of fear. “So, the English bitch has teeth and claws. This is going to be interesting.”

Modesty crouched before him, breathing heavily. Behind her she could hear the moans and groans of the men she had injured. He attack had gone as planned, almost. She had hoped to catch Chow as well, but it was obvious that he was more than ready for her. What she could not figure out was why he had not drawn his pistol. Was he that arrogant that he thought he didn't need it?" Whatever the reason he was giving her the chance she needed. Recovering her strength she leapt toward him.

Chow avoided her attack easily, stepping farther back and using the fact that he stood higher than her to move out of the way. “That the best you can do?” he taunted. “You won’t get away unless you can get past me, and I am waiting.”

Modesty slowly moved up the steps. Chow was playing with her, but the mere fact that he dared to do so after watching her take out four of his men probably meant that he was confident of his abilities. It wouldn’t do to underestimate him. However, he was right; if she wanted to escape she had to go past him.

Chow continued to retreat until he reached the next landing and there he waited for her. It was a rather small arena, barely ten feet long and six feet wide. There was little room for Modesty to maneuver against her much larger opponent, but she didn’t have much choice. She approached him, balancing on the balls of her bare feet and then launched her attack.

Her handcuffed wrists impeded her, but she still had her feet. She moved toward, feinted with her hands, and then pivoting on her left foot drove her right foot toward Chow’s groin. Like a great cat Chow darted back and Modesty’s foot caught air. She jerked her leg back as Chow’s hand whipped out in an attempt to catch hold of her and then spun in a complete circle, driving her heel into his thigh. The huge man jumped back with a grunt of pain. Her heel had dug into the muscle of his thigh, a possible disabling blow, but Chow appeared to be only limping slightly and clearly on his guard. Modesty stepped back, watching for another opening.

Chow edged his leg slightly forward and Modesty went for it, attempting to sweep his foot as he transferred his weight to it. At the last instant Chow lifted his foot and crashed his body into hers. Too late Modesty realized what he was trying to do. He had her pinned in a bear hug and using his weight he slammed her to the floor.

Modesty just had time to tense her diaphragm enough to prevent the air from being knocked out of her, but Chow now had her at a serious disadvantage. Her wrists were still handcuffed and she could not fight effectively as he shifted his weight on top of her. He grabbed her wrists and forced them over her head and then twisted her arms while rising slightly. Modesty gasped as he threatened to break her arms and twisted as he desired, leaving him on top of her back, his great weight pushing her to the floor. She couldn’t move and her struggles in the thin air soon had her close to exhaustion.

She lay still attempting to figure out what Chow was up to. She could feel him moving slightly on top of her, fumbling for something, and then she felt him shift his weight forward, pinning her wrists tight against the floor. There was the chink of metal on metal and suddenly her left wrist was free of the shackle that held it. But not for long. With the handcuffs unlocked from one wrist Chow was free to rearrange her arms. He pulled them behind her in spite of Modesty’s best efforts to take advantage of the situation and break free and then locked the cuff on her wrist again leaving her arms shackled behind her back.

“Now English bitch I am going to have a little fun with you before I begin the formal interrogation.” Chow raised his body and grabbing Modesty’s arms, rolled her over on her back before settling his weight back down on her.

Modesty stared up at the huge man. He was kneeling with his weight over her hips, holding her helpless against the cold stone floor. She was well aware of the fact that in the struggle her shirt had slipped away, leaving her naked to the waist. Her rose pink nipples hardened in the cool air and jutted up from her rounded breasts. Chow reached down and closed his thumb and forefinger over each nipple and squeezed slowly until Modesty winced. She tried to maintain her composure, but she knew that Chow intended to punish her for her escape attempt and she knew how he intended to punish her. She had no defence against what he was going to do. She could only lie helpless and try desperately not to scream.

Chow shifted his hands to her breasts sinking his fingers into her firm flesh. “Beautiful,” he murmured. He tightened his grip until Modesty grunted in pain and then he released her. Moving his hands lower he began to unbuckle her belt.

Modesty realized her breath was quickening, but she could only control it with a great effort. Her breasts and nipples throbbed with pain where Chow’s fingers had mauled them and she was terrified about what was about to happen. Her loins throbbed, remembering the pain and humiliation when Kozlov and Rawlins had raped her and it was about to happen again. Without thinking she began to struggle, attempting to rise up on her elbows, as Chow opened the top of her trousers and began to work them over her buttocks and down her thighs, while at the same time trying to keep her pinned.

“You wriggle like a fish, and you are going to wiggle a lot more before I’ve finished with you.” Chow said as he slipped her trousers over her knees. He shifted his weight off her so that he could pull them down the rest of the way and over her feet. Modesty responded with a burst of energy as she made a futile attempt to break away. She kicked out at him but he caught her ankles and held her there, and then grinning in triumph he slowly pulled her legs apart and moved between them.

She grunted with the effort to escape as he unbuckled his belt and removed his sidearm and then began to unbutton his trousers. He slipped them over his hips, freeing his engorged member. Modesty could smell the strong male scent as he stroked his thick phallus. “I like the way you fight,” Chow said. “It is going to make this so much more satisfying.”

He pushed his knees against the inside of her thighs and placed his hands on her hips and then drew her to him, spreading her wide in spite of Modesty’s almost frenzied efforts to keep her legs together. Terror drove her efforts, wiping away her usual response, which was to become semi-comatose. Her brutal rape at Kozlov’s hands had shown her that did not work and now overcome by the fear of what was about to happen to her she gave in to near panic, her chest heaving, and her firm breasts quivering as Chow moved to penetrate her.

He eased his way into her, enjoying her frantic efforts to escape as he parted the lips of her vulva. Modesty gave a low moan of pain and terror and then gritted her teeth as he began to slowly thrust in and out of her, each penetrating thrust taking him a little deeper until she was fully impaled. Then he stroked in and out of her, slowly increasing his speed until he was pounding her like a pneumatic hammer. Modesty managed not to scream, but sweat streamed from her body and she panted like a steam engine climbing a steep grade as the brutal rape progressed. Chow seemed inexhaustible and he pounded her until Modesty’s senses reeled from the shock of her ordeal. And then he spurted into her with a loud cry of satisfaction.

Slowly Chow got to his feet and pulled up his pants. He loomed over the beaten woman he had just brutally raped and stared down at her. “That was excellent,” he gasped. “I shall have to do it again. But in the meantime it is only fitting that you serve the men you attacked.”

For a few seconds Modesty did not comprehend what Chow’s words meant, and then she sensed the presence of others behind her. Chow said something in Chinese and Modesty looked up as one of the men she had beaten loomed over her. He was slowly unbuttoning his trousers and behind him were two of the other men, calmly waiting their turn. “No!” she moaned. “No!”

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