Message-ID: <3786eli$9709062204@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/3786.txt>
From: gentclub@hotmail.com (Stroker Ace)
Subject: Beyond Chiang Mai - A Bangkok slaver story - Chap 4 - NC, mf
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <341683c5.118402292@news.gate.net>
Beyond Chiang Mai
A Bangkok Slaver Story
WARNING!
Contains sex and violence forced upon a woman by both male
and females. The story is for mature adults who can
maintain a distinction no matter how vague, between reality
and fiction. It is intense. You have been warned.
(c) 1997, Stroker Ace
Beyond Chiang Mai
Chapter -- 4, Jungle Vipers
We had been bouncing around in an ancient pick up truck
for hours. Long ago someone had decided to saw off the top
turning it into a razor edged convertible. Colleen, half
asleep, was wedged between Slash and myself on the torn
seat. There was not much room, she had to sit with a leg on
each side of the hump. In between gear shifts he rested his
hand on her exposed sex. I could not do anything about it,
both of my hands were handcuffed to a bar where the glove
compartment used to be. Like me, Colleen gripped the bar to
keep the steel handcuffs from digging into her wrist. We
had at most, an hour's sleep before Slash had appeared at
the door. He threw some clothes at us and told Colleen to
wash the gunk off, we would be leaving in five minutes.
The clothes were not much. Shorts and an oversize T-
shirt for me, a plain black dress, more of a sack, for her.
My new Nike's were gone, replaced by scandals made from cut
down tires for both of us. After we cleared the town and
headed into the hills, Slash took the tarp off and let us
join him up in the open cab. The sun beat down on us,
drenching us in sweat. Colleen's bare bottom stuck to the
torn vinyl seat, her dress bunched up at her waist. Her
pink bra with a strap cut, hug from where mirror should have
been. Another bump launched us completely off the seat. As
I watched she opened her legs wider, perhaps to brace
herself, but I suspect, for his hand.
The sun had fallen behind the trees, as we crested yet
another hill. Below was a village. Si Racha, he called it.
Slash parked the old truck in the brush and told us to cover
it branches.
"Whatever for?," Colleen wanted to know.
"Do you think there is valet parking out here? Think of
it as insurance. Listen, Chiang Mai is just over that hill.
Officially it is a government run re-education camp for
whores. Something they can point to when Sixty Minutes
comes calling. The rest of the time it is a playground for
Army brass. I heard what the generals have done to Thai
girls." Slash shook his head. He pointed to a huge
backpack. I staggered under its weight. "Do you realize
what those SOB's would do to a sexy redhead?"
"Is that where you are taking us?," she asked. Colleen
rubbed at her wrists, glad to be free of the handcuffs as we
headed down the hill. "To sell me to the generals?"
"Unfortunately, they don't pay for their pussy. You
wanted to find that girl, Sarah. For that we have to go
beyond Chiang Mai."
"Where too?," I asked.
"No name. It doesn't exist. Always moving, just beyond
the border. But first we spend the night at Si Racha. I
know some people there."
Colleen had fallen behind as we climbed over a fallen
tree trunk. She saw her chance and bolted, running like mad
up the hill, to the truck. "Shit." Slash ran after her,
dropping his pack along the way. "Should have hobbled the
dam bitch." She had the truck started but only the balky
gear shift kept her from getting away.
"You are not taking me anywhere. I won't be your
prisoner anymore. I won't" In her anger she failed to see
the determination in Slash's face. She was locked to the
steering wheel by the time I got up the hill. Slash was
back in a moment a bamboo pole in his hand. He gagged her
screaming and cursing with her own pink bra and without a
word slid the pole between her strapped arms and legs. I
had caught that look. When he pointed, I did not wait. I
hoisted the pole over my shoulder holding it with both
hands. It was surprisingly easy, perhaps because I had her
feet. She was screaming into her bra. "I am not taking the
cuffs off. Lock your feet around the pole. It will be
easier on you," he advised.
As we neared the little village, the children called out
running to escort us. Into the village we strode. Colleen
swayed by her hands and feet with each step. Looking over
my shoulder, I could see her pussy for the dress fell to her
waist and hung from her like a tent. The children were
running around us pointing at her red pussy hair. Women and
old men gathered around examining the curly red hair.
"Once I saw yellow hair. On a mother and daughter." A
native girl with dark hair, straight and long, was speaking.
"But never red. What next? Green?" She wore a flowered
sarong for a skirt, wrapped tightly around her and tucked
seductively at her waist. She reached to feel the tight
curls, "Feel strong, springy like a wild boar. It means she
can fuck for a long time." Sanya was a young woman, her
body small and compact. Older women were quiet when she
spoke. "You look surprised that I speak your language. I
taught myself. From tapes and television."
In the clearing was a little satellite dish. A sign of
the times. I wondered why so many others had a problem
speaking proper English. We lowered the poles to waist
level, putting Colleen's back in the dirt. The children
laughed as their pet pig stuck his wet snout to her snatch.
"This is Sanya, she is kind of the mayor, medicine man
and witch all rolled into one. She runs this place, " he
explained. "I am taking this pilgrim and his ungrateful
bitch upcountry. She's a runner," he warned. Colleen was
jerking violently and moaning into her bra, but the pig
continued to grunt sloppily, into her.
"It is late. The soldiers do not come after dark," Sanya
looked to the darkening sky. "We can use the market."
It was nothing more than a bare wooden platform to keep
the food out of the dirt. A monkey, excited by the
approaching villagers, chattered and ran until his chain
snapped him back. A young girl gathered the furry animal in
her arms, while an old man, grinning and toothless, unhooked
the leash turning to fasten it as I watched, to my wife's
neck. He went about converting Colleen from a hung beast
to a tethered pet as if it was routine.
"This is a way-station in the pipeline," Slash answered
my unspoken question. "For what?," I asked, but he only
smiled. "Tip the man," Slash ordered. "For his work," he
was looking at Colleen, who was just now realizing what it
means to be chained to a post, by your neck.
"With what? You took everything."
"Listen pilgrim, she was your woman. I took her and she
will obey me. Out here there are two types of women, those
who have proven to be equals and the rest. You understand
me, boy?"
I understood, "You want me to give her to him?" The old
man grinned his toothless grin at me, his hand holding his
jewels.
"Hell no. Just a tip. Point to her mouth or cunt and he
will understand. Hurry I feel like a little tip of my own."
I could not do it. Not to Colleen. Could not bear the
thought of this ragged ancient rice farmer, in Colleen's.
No. She was pulling at the lock, each pull harder, more
frantic. She turned and yanked the chain with all her
might. It did not budge. She was furious, now, but also
tired of screaming. Still she tried, to scream my name. I
was looking at her, but the others didn't even turn their
heads. I nodded at her. That was what the old man was
waiting for. He grabbed her chain pulling it hand over hand
working Colleen towards the pole. With a quick movement he
pulled something from his black pajamas shoving it below her
waist. It was a little stun gun made for women's self
defense. Colleen jerked, her arms flying wildly. I cried
out, but Slash put a restraining hand on my shoulder. The
man guided the slumping woman against the pole. Her hands
were pulled up and swiftly lashed above her. Standing back,
his legs on either side of her sitting body, he pulled his
gown up, while all around children played, the old women
chewed their sugar cane and watched. I could see Colleen's
face, she was just coming around. The man circled her face
with his cock each time across her tightly clenched lips it
grew straighter, more red. Against her eyes he pushed, then
pinching her cheeks with one hand he forced her tight lips
apart. Colleen had regained some control of her body. She
was yanking her arms her unsupported breasts shook, her
dress was hooked below one tit. The man stuck a piece of
bamboo between her teeth and followed with his erection. He
was a moaner, not much thrusting, working the stick in her
mouth he controlled what she did, hands at her head ensured
that my wife pleased him, moaning in pleasure, all the time.
Mats had been arranged, the elders lit scented tiki lamps
around the stage. Others were serving from deep bowls. I
sat down one of the young village girls squeezing in beside
me. The old man was finishing up on stage to the joyous
hoots and hollers from the local women. The girl beside me
scooped rice on to my plate, pouring steaming thick sauce
with chunks of meat and vegetables over it. It was good, I
didn't ask. On stage young boys were darting in at Colleen,
snatching at her dress, trying to expose her other breast,
before running back to the others, safe from her kicking
legs. The girls ignored her. I noticed that there were no
young men in the village.
The boys were getting bolder. Unable to expose her other
breast they ran at her in groups, trying to tear the dress
from her. Her kick caught one, sending him sliding off the
platform. He was still for a moment before dusting himself
off and rejoining the attack. I brought a plate to her,
sending the boys running. She was filthy, her face streaked
with drying cum. As mad as she was, she was still glad to
see me. I undid her hands and tucked her back into her
dress.
"Those pigs! How could they, how could you?," she
demanded of me.
"Colleen, honey, I will get you out of this, somehow.
Just endure it for a little while longer. Think of the
insurance money. Think of how grateful Old Man Bodwell will
be. Think of how much the old geezer will pay."
"I will not endure being chained like a," she searched
for a word.
"Like monkey?," Sanya, supplied the word. Colleen's face
turned crimson. She tore again at the lock at her throat.
"Get me oooouuuutttt !"
"Give me your shirt," I told Sanya. "To wipe her face."
Seeing Sanya taking an order calmed Colleen down but did not
stop her rage. I had the topless Sanya feed her before she
went ballistic again. She knelt at arm's length feeding her
with chopsticks. Her breasts were tiny cones on her chest
almost no aurora around dark brown, nipples. I could feel
myself stirring. To do her here. In front of the entire
village. Perhaps even her family. In front of my wife tied
and helpless, the taste of a stranger's cum still on her
lips, her back raw from a fierce beating and a cunt so
thoroughly fucked. I thought of Colleen servicing the
emperors, "he will give you a chance to be a man again," the
words rang in my ears. I was bursting in my pants. I
thought of the moaning old man with her, in her. I had to
have her. To take her. Here. Now.
Thin and light as a feather, she spun around in my arms,
hastily she shoved the bowl aside. The girl was no stranger
to love. Sanya was under me, arms around me, I sought her
mouth with mine. Sweet, darting probing tongue. We tore at
each others clothes, there was nothing under the sarong. I
paused to pull her farther away from Colleen's kicking legs.
There was a lot of zestful hooting and hollering from the
villagers all around us. I blocked them out. Concentrating
on one thing, one goal. And it was there in front of me. A
triangle of curly dark hair, her thighs thin and opened for
me. She reached up with delicate arms. My body found hers.
Her folds, resisted, again and my head barely entering, all
the while her moans a delight in my ear. Again I pushed,
wetter now, her body yielding to my assault, flowing around
me, taking me. Her pussy was her body. I pushed and she
slid higher on the platform. Pulling back brought her head
down, not a word spoken only delightful cries of a building
orgasm. I grasped her head in my hands and pumped my hips
against her, my cries mingling with hers. Her cunt seized
me, clutching, fluttering, imploding. I exploded into her
orgasm. Draining myself her body squeezing every gush from
me. Far away others were talking but we shut them out. She
hugged me to her and together we rested at my wife's feet.
++++
"It is good that you came, it loosens you up," Sanya, the
mayor sat beside me. Around us, the villagers laughed as
they ate. Slash was busy flirting with a flock of juvenile
girls, trying to get them to flash their breasts.
"You needed that, I could see your stress. American?
Canadian? No matter, you can never understand how different
it is in the hill country. More elemental. It is better."
The pack of boys came back, the tallest one asking
something of Sanya in their pubescent sing-song speech. She
glanced at me, "But you have to adjust." She nodded her
head and the boys giggling like girls ran off. "Man or
woman, a whore is treated like a whore. A bitch is a
bitch." She paused to hand me a cup. "Foreigners never
understand."
The boys had re-gathered at the platform, swarming around
my scowling Colleen. Like a practiced pack, those in front
of her distracted her, grabbing at her feet, snatching her
sandals away while behind her, another undid the monkey's
chain. They did not waste any time. With three boys on the
chain they yanked Colleen to her feet. Her hands flew to
the crude collar around her neck to prevent choking.
Screaming in anger she ran after the leader, but he easily
stayed ahead of her, the chain dragging in the dirt behind
him. Seeing the futility of it, Colleen stopped but the
boys were having too much fun. They gathered on the chain
pulling Colleen around the village market place. Up and
down the street, Colleen at first crying out, hollering at
me, at Slash, cursing everyone then becoming quiet, resigned
to be pulled in circles by these kids as the villagers
laughed and pointed. The boys were becoming bolder, darting
in to tear at her black dress. A small rip under her sleeve
grew with each tug. Seeing this they grabbed the black
cloth from both sides tearing her only piece of clothing
from her body in the middle of the street. The village fell
silent at the sight of her bruised back. Colleen stood
naked, out of breath, her breasts heaving in the light from
the fires. The boys, respectfully tracing the purplish
marks of the emperor's strap, down her back, across her
rump.
++++
Moonlight from the window shone on Sanya's body. She had
fallen asleep, her head resting on my crotch, long hair
falling over my balls, between my legs. In the next hut,
Slash was doing two girls. One was making slurping noises
while the other moaned. I had checked that Colleen was
safely resting, again chained on her platform. Sanya's
words echoed in my head as I fell asleep. "Foreigners never
understand."
---
continued in chapter 5
Stroker Ace
gentclub@hotmail.com
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /