Message-ID: <3786eli$9709062204@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: 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: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: 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 | \ .../assm/faq.html> /