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The Jade Pavilion Book II : The Rise of Li Chang

Chapter 91 Breast-whipped by the Scorpions Part II

     Chapter 91      Breast-whipped by the Scorpions  Part II
    
     Hearing Lin's insane cackle of glee, Ming-tsu beseeched her pain-wracked
shoulders to pull herself up high on the Korean Cross once again, until Dao
acknowledged with a predatory leer that her luscious, pain-wracked
pleasure-gourds were presented to his satisfaction.
    
     Dao had armed himself with a new weapon, a heavy, studded strap, similar to
the one Chiang Chan had used earlier, but heavier and lined with small,
evil-looking rectangular studs.  He ran a big hand over the hard rubber studs
lovingly.  "Don't know how I overlooked this one when I was whipping your ass,
wench.  But that's OK. It'll work even better on your juicy tits."
    
      Dao studied the amber-hued, sweat-dripping perfection of Ming-tsu's
shuddering breasts for a long moment, waiting until a trickle of moisture had
congealed into a tiny bubble that clung lovingly to her right nipple.  Then he
grunted with pleasure as he unleashed a murderous backhand that sent the studded
strap ripping into the soft outer curve of Ming-tsu's breast, vaporizing the
delicate droplet into oblivion.
    
     THWOCKK!!  "NNnnnnnnnnggggghhh!  Please ..."
    
     Dao felt a virile current of electricity pump through his rape-ready
genitals the moment his blow made contact with Ming-tsu's yielding breast.  
    
     Chiang Chan let the tortured Asian beauty sway gently back and forth on the
cross or a few moments.  There was something soul-satisfying, something that
fulfilled a man's deepest, darkest longings, about dominating one's father's
mistress.  Especially a mistress so young, so wanton, so starkly sensual.  He
remembered the seductive naughtiness of Ming-tsu's expression when he had
covertly watched her pose astride his father's desk, leaning back on her elbows,
her silken hair spilling enticingly over her shoulders, her naked legs pointing
toward the corners of the ceiling with shameless abandon.  The Unfolding Lotus,
his father had called it.
    
     She was a taunting, teasing slut then, and she's a slut now, Chiang Chan
concluded, as he stepped forward and whipped his strap across the pouting
nipples of his father's whore.
    
     CRACCCKK!!
    
      Ming-tsu's body thrashed violently on the bar as the strap bit deep into
her sensitive pain-melons.  "Oooh ... ooooohhhhhh,"
    
     Still wielding the familiar breast-stinging whipcord, Lin the Drooler wiped
at his mouth and lashed at the side-slope of her left breast with a ferocious
roundhouse swing.
    
     CRACCKK!!   "Nnngggghhhhh... please ... help me ..."
    
     "Boss, you got those needles ready? We got her on the run.  She ain't going
to hold out much longer!" Lin the Drooler chirped gleefully.
    
     The Ox, forsaking his punishing paddle, took up one of the black
hose-strips again, and dealt Ming-tsu a vicious chopping stroke that seemed to
cleave her left breast in half.
    
     THWOCKK!!  "Uuunnngggghhhhhhh!"
    
    
     Dao stepped in front of her again, brandishing his black-studded strap.   
The demonic dungeonmaster gave her a satanic jack-o'- lantern leer, and motioned
for her to present her breasts for the whip yet again. "There ain't nothing like
working over a nice pair of knobs, is there, boys!  And baby, they don't come
much nicer than yours."
    
     When the ebony-haired enchantress didn't respond to his unspoken command,
Dao stepped forward and grabbed a handful of her fine pubic hair and gave it a
violent wrench.
    
      "You know the drill, slut.  Stick those tits out!"  When Ming-tsu had
tremblingly complied, Dao shoved his strap in her mouth and ran his big hands
over her rosy-gold man-pleasers again, enjoying the feel of the deep
indentations the whip-studs had left on the inward slope of her right breast. 
He glanced backward over his shoulder at his colleagues.  "They're warmin' up
real nice, boys!" 
    
     Then he turned back to his softly moaning prisoner.  "Talk, slut!  Or
you're going to get the next one's right across the nips!"
    
     When his directive was met by silence, the ill-favored thug ripped the
strap out of her mouth with a violent wrench.  "Stubborn whore!" he roared, and
then he attacked Ming-tsu with a slicing, downward-angled stroke that landed on
the crisp brown tips of her sweat-gleaming tit-globes with a horrendous
CRACCKK!!
    
     "UNNGHHHHHHH!! Please... no more ..."
    
     The blow from the studded strap spun the Chinese beauty around so violently
that she lost her bearings.  It was Chiang Chan's turn, surely, but he was
nowhere to be seen.
    
     Suddenly her eye was drawn to a movement in the mirror and she saw the
grim-faced Scorpion leader, standing about a dozen feet obliquely behind her,
holding the longest, blackest whip she had ever seen.
    
     When Dao looked at him questioningly, Chiang Chan snaked the fearful whip
across the blood-encrusted floor of the dungeon as he explained. "This is a
slightly smaller replica of the bullwhip used by American herdsmen.  A handful
of strokes with a leather bullwhip would cut through her breasts as surely as
shrapnel, but my uncle's latex version supposedly carries nearly the same sting,
but, used properly, should not break her skin.  We shall see."
    
     Ming-tsu watched in disbelief as Chiang Chan took several practice strokes,
judging the height of the room, the distance from the nearest pillar and so
forth. Each time the slender tip of the whip flew through the air faster than
the eye could see, before exploding like a rifle-shot just before it wrapped
around the column he was aiming at.
    
     When he was satisfied that he was capable of making a good stroke with the
unwieldy whip, Chiang Chan took a few steps to his left so that he stood almost
directly behind his nude prisoner.  Then the squadron-leader drew the elongated
snake-whip back behind him dexterously and then with a smooth motion of his
shoulder sent it rocketing forward.  A split second later Ming-tsu felt the tail
of the fiery lash curl painfully around her soft shoulder before detonating on
the upper slope of her right breast with a thunderous CRACCKKK!!
    
     It was as if the typhoon god had shot one of his bolts of lightning through
her tender breast. Ming-tsu rocked forward gently on the cross, to the extent
that her bondage would permit, hoping against hope that that timeless maternal
motion might somehow quiet the scalding pain in her burning love-mound.
    
     "Not bad for a first try, boss!" Lin applauded in his maddening
high-pitched voice. "Hey, wench!  You're not concentrating."  Ming-tsu noted
with alarm that now Lin the Drooler was slapping one of the fearful strips of
black rubber hose against his skinny thigh.  "Your nips are starting to soften
up again, honey. We're gonna have to fix that, aren't we?"
    
      Then, while thrusting one hand between her legs, and fingering her cunt,
the leering, saliva-flecked Lin took her tasty right breast in his mouth, and
nibbled and sucked and bit and chewed, and gnawed at her nipple until he was
satisfied that the sensitive bud was once again as hard as a cherry pit.  When
it was, he took a step back and then slammed the hollow baton directly into her
tender brown bud.
    
     The slim-waisted concubine exhaled another tortured groan.
    
     Zheng the giant, meanwhile,  had armed himself with a four-thonged whip and
he swept it down violently in a great arc, tomahawking the lushness of her right
breast, his blow descending from on high like a lightning bolt, and landing with
a resounding THWACKK!! on Ming-tsu's soft flesh.
    
     Dao, once-again wielding the familiar knotted whip, continued the fusillade
by crouching down and delivering a slicing, slashing uppercut into the tender
undersides of Ming-tsu's breasts.
    
     When she finished spinning around, Ming-tsu saw that Chiang Chan was
standing at a forty-five degree angle to her, with his feet firmly planted, at a
distance of about a dozen feet from her, the horrendous bullwhip trailing from
his right hand.
    
     "N-no ... please ... not with that ... not from the front ... you'll kill
me."
    
     "You heard my uncle, Ming-tsu," Chiang Chan said with a sardonic smile in
his iciest tones.  "Our research is not yet complete."  He uncoiled the whip and
drew it back behind him.  "The diamonds, woman!  The pearls!  Where have you
hidden them?"
    
     "N-nowhere ... I-I swear it ..."
    
      Chiang Chan cursed and tightened his grip on the black whipstock.  His
dark eyes ravished Ming-tsu's frontal nudity, the lushness of her whip-reddened
breasts, the gentle pressure of her ribcage against the flesh of her torso, the
inviting hollow of her stomach, and the seductive narrowness of her tiny waist. 
Her supple, golden thighs, her womanly hips and the dark-fringed grotto of love
that he and his men would plunder in short order.
    
     "Lying whore!" Chiang Chan lifted the bullwhip and then flung it forward,
his eyes glowing with sadistic resolve as the blacksnake cut through the murky
dimness of the dungeon like an evil knife, its cruel trajectory aimed directly
at Ming-tsu's encrimsoned breasts.
    
     CRACCCKK!!! the whip sliced into Ming-tsu's defenseless, dark-tipped
love-apples with shattering force, etching a corrosive path of pain that ran
from the top of her left breast to the undercurve of its rounded twin.
    
     "Eeaaggggghhhhhhhhhhh!"  Needles or no needles, Ming-tsu could suppress her
pent-up agony no longer.  The four Scorpions watched excitedly as her upper body
shuddered in a violent paroxysm of anguish.  
    
     "Aaaaghhh!  Aauughhhhh!!" she coughed, spluttering up the terrible pain
that her small frame had absorbed and absorbed until it had reached its limit
and she could bear no more.
    
     "Your needle, boss!" Lin cackled cheerfully.
    
     Chiang Chan selected the next blue pin from the box and fingered it
briefly, letting the torchlight reflect off its gleaming point while he stared
deep into Ming-tsu's luminous, tear-filled brown eyes. "I think I'll keep this
one in reserve for the moment, Lin.  Carry on."
    
     "Whatever you say, boss," Lin grinned as he eyed the lurid mark the
bullwhip had left on the concubine's sweat-sheened breasts.
    
     "N-no more ... please ... I can't ...'
    
     CRACCKKK!! Lin's backhanded slash with the doubled-up whipcord creased her
tender breast-flesh yet again and sent the cross careening erratically through
the foul air of the dungeon.
    
     As her swinging slowed, Ming-tsu saw that the Ox had armed himself with the
plet, much the heaviest of all the whips.   The czar's executioners had used the
original leather version of this dreadful weapon on the bare backs of sturdy
Russian convicts.  Surely its thick and punishing thongs had never been used on
the bare breasts of a woman ...
    
     Zheng slapped the five broad thongs, gently against his leg as he moved
closer.  He stood above her like a towering troglodyte, his face primitive and
impassive, but his eyes vengeful.  His left arm, like Ming-tsu's breasts, had
grown redder with each passing minute and small patches of skin had begun to
fester.
    
     "Zheng's turn, now," he mumbled in his deep voice as his powerful right arm
swung the plet forward, lettings its five fearful thongs splash against
Ming-tsu's jutting breasts with a frightful CRACCKKK!!  inundating her
pleasure-globes in a scalding wave of fire that stretched from tit-strap to
tit-strap.
    
     "Aaaiiiiiaaahhh!!"
    
     "That's it, honey!  Scream your guts out!  You've won the next needle, Ox!" 
    
      A soft, pitiful moan escaped the lips of the captured concubine. Then,
knowing that she had lost again, her courage gave out completely, and her body
shook with uncontrollable sobs. And the once-proud vixen was reduced to abjectly
imploring her captors for mercy.
    
     "No more, please. Please, I can't take any more.  No more needles. Please,
if you have ever loved a girl ... a woman ..."
    
     "We've loved many a girl, haven't we boys?" Dao guffawed as he grabbed his
crotch crudely.  "And we're gonna give you some lovin' too, in a bit, don't you
worry."
    
     Meanwhile Zheng,  pleased with his triumph, and deaf to Ming-tsu's
plaintive pleas for mercy, calmly took another scarlet-tipped needle from Chiang
Chan's little box of horrors.
    
     The Drooler,  was not shy in offering his advice - "Hey, Big Fella --Why
don't you take that needle and hold the torch to it.  Get it good and hot.   If
you ask me, it'll serve the slut right for waving that torch around!"  
    
     Chiang Chan held up his hand to silence his excited comrades. "The reason I
set my needle aside a moment ago is because I thought it might prove
entertaining to perforate her lovely breast from both sides at once.  What say
you all?"
    
     Lin's rejoinder was hardly in doubt  "Two needles at once!  Yeah!"
    
     The lecherous glint in Dao's eyes was proof of his assent and, the Ox was
staring at Ming-tsu's tempting papayas with a rapacious glare.
    
     "N-no..."
    
     "You seem to be outvoted, Ming-tsu," Chiang Chan sneered.  "Shall we
proceed, gentlemen?"
    
     "But be sure to bake those needles first, boss," the Drooler offered, "I
want to see her tits sizzle!"
    
     Ming-tsu looked on in utter horror, as Lin hurried to remove a torch from
one of the sconces.  Chiang Chan and Zheng the Ox each held a needle to the
outer edges of the ardently burning flame, being careful to hold it by its
over-sized pinhead.  The tips of the needles were glowing by the time they
removed them from the hand-held torch. 
    
     Dao, slightly disappointed that it was not he who was wielding the red-hot
needles, made himself useful, by gripping the stiff mahogany crest of Ming-tsu's
left breast.  With Dao holding her breast stationary,  Ming-tsu was helpless as
the needle-bearers approached.  Chiang's left hand found its way   deep into her
cleavage, his needle poised to stab the inner curve of her breast; Zheng had
positioned his smoking pin opposite Chiang's.
    
     "On three, "  Dao instructed his two comrades.
    
     "One!"  Ming-tsu struggled desperately to pull away, but Dao's grip on her
dark nipple-crest was inescapable.
    
     "Two!"
    
     "C'mon!  Do it!  Do it!"  Ming-tsu felt Lin's breath's hot on her neck as
he peered over her shoulder.
    
     "Three!"  In that very instant Ming-tsu felt the sizzling needles bore into
the rounded curves of her naked breast from either side, Chiang pressing his
inward from the midpoint of the inner slope, and Zheng from the center of the
outerslope. 
    
     "Aaaaaarrgggghhhhhhhh!!"
    
      It was only a moment or two before she felt the hilt of Zheng's needle
pressing against the side of her breast, signaling that the needle was fully
embedded in her flesh.  Chiang took much longer, whether by design or whether it
was because he was using his left hand.  His flesh-scalding nine o'clock needle
seemed to take an eternity to bury itself deep in her breast-flesh. Although the
fine needle-points cooled very quickly after being removed from the fire,
Ming-tsu felt as if her breast was impaled upon some infernal spit, for the
pleasure of her hellish tormentors.
    
     After releasing his blue needle-hilt, Chiang Chan noticed that Zheng's
normally impassive countenance seemed a little downcast.  It took him a moment
to understand that the behemoth was disappointed that the two pins had not quite
met in mid-breast, notwithstanding the fact that Ming-tsu's gyrations clearly
indicated that, to her at least, the appalling tandem tit-piercing had been most
effective indeed.
    
     "Don't worry, Ox," Chiang patted the man with the brain of a child on the
back consolingly, "we've got some longer pins in the box."
    
     At those words, Ming-tsu's insides twisted themselves into dry ropes; she
hung on the bar desperate and despairing. Why, why had she not let herself fall
into the Whipping Pit to be devoured by the flesh-eating fish below?  Her death
would have been horrible, but quick.   She could not have imagined that the
Scorpions would have put her - the favorite concubine  of George Chan - through
such a harrowing and nightmarish ordeal.  Suddenly the room seemed to begin
spinning and she closed her eyes in order to alleviate her dizziness.
    
     Chiang Chan stood over his glassy-eyed prisoner; for the first time almost
convinced that the tortured beauty did, in fact, know nothing of the jewels. 
But how could that be?  There were no other survivors of the Night of the Tiger. 
Perhaps, he thought to himself, degradation and rape would succeed where torture
had failed.  But first, they would have to restore her to her failing senses. 
But that was easily done.
    
     "Lin!"
    
     "Yes, boss?"
    
     "Our guest seems to be quite exhausted; perhaps a quick shower would
re-invigorate her."
    
     "Should I fill the bucket, then?"

     "Aye, fill it good and full."
    
     As Lin hurried out to fill the bucket they had dumped on Ming-tsu earlier
after knocking her face-down in the damp passageway, Chiang noticed that Dao and
Zheng were whispering to each other.  He didn't know what they were but there
was little doubt but that their conversation boded ill for their naked captive.
    
     Ming-tsu hung from the Korean Cross as if she were in a trance, her breasts
rising and falling gently, the flesh tones of her upper body resembling the
intermingled reds and golds of autumnal foliage, her cheekbones wet with tears,
her body bathed in a glistening dew of perspiration.
    
     "She's a tough one, ain't she boss?" Dao exclaimed.
    
     "She is indeed, Dao."
    
     "She must have taken couple of dozen across the tits before she broke.   I
never thought she'd last that long," the homely Scorpion said grudgingly.
    
     "Don't forget, Dao -- she still has told us nothing that we want to know."
    
     Just then Lin came staggering back down the passageway that led to the well
outside, struggling with the heavy pail of water.  When he reached them, he set
the bucket down for a moment and rubbed his aching back.
    
     "We didn't send you for water to set it on the floor, boy!  Wake the slut
up!"
    
     Lin made a face and hoisted the bucket to shoulder height.  He was just
bout to up-end it when they heard the door that led to the staircase creak open
noisily.
    
     "Chiang Chan!"  The familiar silver-robed figure stood in the doorway.
    
     "Yes, uncle?"   Out of the corner of his eye, Chiang noticed that Lin had
set the bucket down.
    
     "Your father insists that it is time that you met General Wang; Hsien will
be serving tea in my study in five minutes."
    
     "I will be right there, uncle."
    
     Chiang Chan waited until his uncle had begun making his way back up the
stone staircase before turning to his three henchmen.  "Boys, I'm not sure how
long I will be; she's all yours.  Have fun."  Chiang Chan reached down to touch
Ming-tsu on the side of the face.
    
     Feeling his hand on her face, alertness and life began to return to
Ming-tsu's dark brown eyes.  "W-what are they going to do to me?" she stammered
nervously.
    
     "Whatever they like, Ming-tsu, whatever they like.  For as long as they
like.  Until we have the truth."
    
     "Lin!"
    
     The skinny, pock-marked youth struggled to lift the bucket to shoulder
height, lurched, recovered his balance, and then emptied its contents over
Ming-tsu's head, inundating her with water.
    
     "Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" she cried out in shock as the cold water cascaded
down over her head and shoulders, drenching her body.  Strangely though, the
coldness felt good on her inflamed breasts.
    
     Chiang Chan's eyes took in her dripping nudity for a long moment before
sighing.  "I must ago. Have fun, gentlemen," before stalking off in the
direction his uncle had taken. "I will try to return shortly."
    
     When the door to the staircase closed behind him, Dao's fingers began
racing over the complicated network of knots that bound the beautiful concubine
to the Korean Cross.
    
	"Cheer up, honey.  We're letting you loose," the gaptoothed thug
announced with gusto as he undid the final knot, letting Ming-tsu's perfect
body, its youth and strength sapped by hours of abuse, slump to the floor at his
feet. Ming-tsu lay there on her side for a long moment before attempting to
right herself, gingerly raising herself to her haunches.

	Then Dao seized a handful of her sopping hair.  "Boys," he exclaimed
loudly as he pressed Ming-tsu's lovely face against the black fabric that
encased his lust-swollen genitals. "It's party time!"



Review This Story || Author: Boccaccio
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