My four years as a sex slave (1)

My Four Years of Sex Slavery: The Maiden of Maine

My master assured me that by the time people read this confession of mine, I myself must have died in extreme agony. He told me that he would insert a round-headed stick into my anus, and then stand the stick (with my body) upright in a mound dug in front of his cottage. He laughed and said that experience had taught him that the stick must not be sharpened or it would puncture my intestines inside my body and cause me to die prematurely due to hemorrhaging. The flat head of the stick would slowly skewer my large and small intestines under my own weight, and might linger for a while when it reached the pylorus of my stomach, when my master would give me a little help: bolting two red bricks to each of my dangling ankles ensured that the stick would enter my stomach and then go up into my throat without any problem.

“It’s almost in the next two days!” My master said. Judging from his experience of more than ten times, a young woman like me would be lucky to die after a day and a half under such circumstances.

My master said that after that he would put the story I was currently writing about myself on an adult website, and then pick one of the pictures of me being raped by him and his men that I had shown the most lewdness in and attach it to it. He said that even my real-life experiences might not be the most interesting on there, but it would probably be worth a look.

I am now kneeling in the master’s spacious study, using the marble tea  table in front of the large cowhide sofa in the parlor area as a writing surface. He brought me a stack of manuscript paper with a dark orchid pattern, white and beautiful: “This is for the female master’s stationery ah, of course, to be more beautiful!” The master’s trusted bodyguard, Achang, laughed heartily as he leaned back on the couch behind me, shaking a wide leather belt in his hands in boredom.

My entire body was still naked from top to bottom of course, as it had been from the day I was brought here four years ago to begin serving my master. A month later my master locked a full set of chains around my body, an iron collar around my neck, a chain with one end tied to this iron collar, and the other end dangling down over my breasts to join the iron ring around my waist. This chain continued downward, splitting into two strands at a height flush with my knees, and was attached to the iron hoops of the shackles that were locked around my right and left ankles.

In addition to these, my leg irons were nearly a meter long, and the chains on my hands were about that long: when I stood up and lowered my arms, the curved bottoms of the chains almost touched the ground. My master told me that these instruments of torture together weighed fifteen kilograms, and were borne by my neck, waist, hands, and feet. “That’s pretty considerate for a rotten bitch like you who deserves to be cut alive.” The master said.

This made me feel very inconvenienced during my first year of working for my master, and by now I’ve gotten used to the restraints. But whenever my master told me to write, he had to put another set of additional handcuffs on me, as I am now. I can only twist my left hand over onto the back of my right hand and move it along with the right hand that holds the pen.

My host sat on the single sofa to my right gazing at my naked body and smiling amiably. He was fifty-three years old, with a lean body and a clean face. Once a farmer who hadn’t finished elementary school, my master was now a businessman who ran an anesthesia farm substance preparation, and a lot of money had made a very big difference in his post-fifty years.

He couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he watched me write the above sentence, and I immediately stopped my hand and lowered my head deeply, staring at my belly, which was bulging high like a patient with edema, as it shifted in my vision, and this was because my whole body was trembling with fear. I was truly afraid of my master, the fear of him had soaked every cell of my body, and at any time or place, even the mere sound of his softly clearing his throat would bring me to my knees trembling to the ground completely instinctively.

“Ah Qing, people who have read books are really different, running anesthesia preparations,” he deliberately read in a strange tone: “I like you such a well-behaved and smart place. From now on, you should be called whatever you want, not just a drug dealer!”

During these four years, the standard term for me was “bitch”, or more affectionately “little bitch”, or of course “whore”. Only when my master was happy would he call me Lin Qingqing, which was my original name. No matter what I was called, I had to agree: “Yes, Master.”

“Here, stand up and show me.”

“Yes, Master.” I obediently stood up and turned toward him.

After these four years of hellish life as a sex slave, my slender limbs were as thin and dry as winter branches, and the depression between one rib protruding from the surface of my skin could almost bury a finger. Strangely enough, my stomach stood out tautly, and I wondered if I was malnourished or had some kind of disease. And hanging from my narrow, shriveled chest were a pair of unimaginable breasts, firm, full, round and heavy, almost like two slightly smaller watermelons, blooming with wisps of green veins, even the dark brown areolas, the size of wineglass mouths, rising to the surface as high as two or three pennies.

It was completely abnormal, my master had tried many bizarre drugs on me: human and veterinary, and I didn’t quite understand what kind of hormones could make a young woman’s breasts look like this. But the tops of both my breasts were nipple-less, and Achan had completely flattened them with a red-hot iron bar about a year ago.

The master looked at her for a while and said, “It’s a bit hard to let go of a well-bred bitch! But look at yourself, what part of you still looks like a woman? You don’t even have a single hair left. How much money do you need to pay before a man will fuck you? It’s useless to keep you!”

On my lower back, from my belly down and along the inside of my thighs all the way across my pubic area was a large brownish-red glowing brand, covered with a smooth bump and crater that had formed from a poorly healed injury. Destroying my genitals was everyone’s favorite thing to do, not to mention the hairy roots of those pubic hairs, not even sweaty pores existed in this area.

These are not the most important things. If I were to spread my legs in front of a man, it wouldn’t even be the hairiness of my private parts that would shock him. There were no soft, round, fat labia covering the female genitalia from my pussy port downward, only two rough, wrinkled scars, sandwiched between a thin, willow-shaped strip of pink, moist mucous membrane, slightly sunk into the body. On top of that, two watery holes, one in front of the other, one in the back, one in the front and one in the back, were cleanly bared, but otherwise all the small and delicate structures of a woman were gone.

This place was my master’s imaginative masterpiece, and he surveyed it with satisfaction. “Step forward again.” My master said, as he reached down and pressed the burning snow whistle he held in his hand against my pubic bone. I clenched my legs in pain, bent my knees and pressed my cuffed hands together hard against my stomach. My master’s rules neither allowed me to hide, much less to push away his hands, nor to scream out when I was being beaten in his house.

He twisted it back and forth a few times and finally got the fire out. I raised my hand to wipe the tears that ran down my cheeks, and followed his gesture to reenter the tea  and kneel down.

My master was very intelligent and, more importantly, very tenacious. As you can see from the large, well appointed study, he had someone re-teach him to read and write after he had achieved considerable success. As I will write later, I even taught him and his men my specialty.

At the age of seventeen, he fled across the border to M with his brother, and their line of business could truly be called life and death. After an unknown amount of bloodshed, he was able to get his feet wet in middle age, during which time he lost his brother.

I tensed my back, and then the strap in Achan’s hand landed heavily on my spinal taper, the end with the brass buckle. In the moment before I closed my eyes, I caught a glimpse of my master rising sharply to his feet.

I was dragged by my hair to the open floor outside the parlor area, a dull, dull pain pressing all the way to my heart as someone kicked me in the ass, flipped me over and then kicked me in the breasts. I can’t get any air in through my open mouth, and the only thought in my head is to never scream out, ever. I balled my hand into a fist and shoved it tightly into my mouth.

By the time I opened my eyes, they had stopped, and I could see four or five pieces of fleshy skin turned up on my thigh muscles, and the blood had dripped painfully onto the floor. I didn’t even know when Achan had smoked my leg. I didn’t dare stand up, and with my hair down I slowly crawled back to pick up my pen.

No matter what time of day or situation, as long as the master’s brother was mentioned, I was bound to be beaten, the difference being only whether it was harder or lighter. This I knew, of course, but there was nothing I could do about it; there was no possibility of avoiding the matter. His brother was arrested by my husband on that side of the border over four years ago and executed ten months later. At the time the brothers were trying to open  a new drug route.

I won’t specify in the following text, but whenever the phrase “the master’s brother” appears, my body must have received two or three more strokes of the belt.

Yes, I am the wife of a narcotics police officer, which is why I was kidnapped and brought here. My master has allowed me to withhold my husband’s real name and title, and I will refer to him from now on by the name “Dai Tao”. He was a young and talented head of the police in that province, eight years older than me, and the older brother of my high school classmates. When I was seventeen years old, he began to pursue me fervently, when he was still a stupid little policeman!

I spent four years in college out of town, messed around with several flirty boyfriends, only to return to my hometown in the province after graduation to register with a police officer in a heartbeat. Maybe it was because I liked to listen to his legend that I didn’t know if it was true or not, or maybe it was because he was very pleasing to my father.

I left home to rejoin the college to renew my master’s degree, and my husband is just along for the ride from here on out. On the one hand, he’s really a very capable guy, and on the other, he’s now the son-in-law of an old cop.

My father was one of the top leaders of the police in that province, second or third deputy in line. After we graduated with our master’s degree we had a very serious wedding with a many-tiered, very tall cake. We had been living together for less than a year.

A few tears fell onto the manuscript paper, dampening my delicate handwriting.

After a year as a slave girl, I stopped thinking about my past and my family unless my master ordered me to do so. Every year before the Chinese New Year, my master asked me to call my husband and my father to, in his words, “tell them I was safe”. The first year I held the receiver and cried my eyes out, choking back tears as I told my husband that I had given birth to our daughter ten days earlier and that my master had been very good to her. Then I looked at the note my master held up in front of me and told him that he was good to me too, and that he let his brothers fuck my pussy at least twenty times a day.

“Fuck my little”, was what the note my master showed me read. In front of my eyes, the Kachin bodyguard, Shivagun, was lying naked on the crimson pure wool carpet with a Marlboro cigarette in his mouth, smirking and squinting at my sweaty, tear-exchanging, ovoid face. I was straddling his bony hips with my feet wide apart, rising and falling my plump buttocks with great devotion, my sensitive flesh squeezing the warm mucus and “plopping, plopping”. Compared to now, I was a pretty girl with a supple, plump body!

Before dialing my husband’s number, I shoved Shivagun’s genitals into my vagina, which my master ordered me to do. Then my husband’s voice came over the microphone and I began to speak to him. The belt followed down to my bare back and someone droned menacingly, “Move, bitch, move, move!”

I said and moved, crying as I did so, making my body, tightly sheathed outside the pillar of Shivagun’s flesh, dance like mad, the chains clanking all over my body. “Move! Bitch!” Layer by layer, his solid, full cock tore through my skin and my flesh and my sinews, and I felt my organs dissolve into a sticky soup to moisten his flesh… I loved his flesh so much that I cried out.

“They’re fucking me, they’re fucking me so hard I’m crying! Honey!” I shouted into the phone. Suddenly my pussy tightened like a vernier card, one time, and then another. I collapsed on top of him crying and throwing up, and in the haze everyone was beating me, but I didn’t feel any pain at all.

I realized that I had stopped menstruating a month before I was kidnapped to come to M. And my belly started to grow after I arrived here in March or April. Until the day I went into labor, Achang and a dozen of them gang-raped me all morning, kneeling on the ground like that and hiding my belly underneath for them to climb up from behind. Afterward, he twisted my two big toes together with a wire and hung me upside down from the doorframe, where I began my labor pains. I don’t think many women in the world have ever experienced the pain of having every bone ripped open.

The first year was the worst year of my master’s torture, and compared to those three hundred days, I can now be considered on vacation. Surprisingly, I still delivered a beautiful four-pound baby girl, and she was still alive, and she cried loudly!

My master really didn’t destroy our daughter as he did me, he found a middle-aged woman from the village to be her nanny and raised her decently on the third floor of the villa. The rules of the game for me were: I was bound to die, sooner or later. If I obeyed, didn’t run away, didn’t kill myself, didn’t fight back, he swore not to hurt my daughter, he would take her as his own, and would even send her back to her country. My master said that he would obey the commandment of M: wash the blood of one man with the blood of another.

There was of course no possibility of my escaping at all, and my only resistance was probably to bang my head against the wall when the guards were not looking, in the hope of breaking it with only one blow, or to suddenly swing the chain in my hand and hit my master in the back of the head from behind. If I wanted to try doing that, my master said, he swore likewise to raise my daughter properly until she was fourteen, and then, treat her as he was treating me now. The hairs on my entire body stood up.

In short, my little girl is a hostage in the hands of her master. Can I trust a drug dealer’s vow of restraint? But I must believe a drug dealer’s vow of vengeance. Seeing that I did understand him, the master allowed me to move freely within certain limits. For example, now let me go to the barracks below to serve the soldiers do not need to bother Achang they follow, just say: “Little bitch, it is time to cross to the self-defense side!” I would obediently walk out of the villa, naked and dragging the iron shackles alone down more than 400 meters of fill dirt road.

Truly, this is nothing, and it is far from being the thing that has humiliated me the most.

I spoke to my relatives several other times, and from the second year onwards I was less agitated, as if I were recounting to some unconnected person something that had nothing to do with myself.

“Dad, this is Qingqing. He let me get stabbed with a stick while talking to you on the phone. Ouch! Ah… Master, slow down… You mustn’t hang up… My master says that if you don’t listen for half an hour, he’ll stuff my daughter’s mouth and her ass with chili sauce. My daughter is now kneeling on the floor and lying forward so that she can pucker her white ass up to the sky! It’s not my ass that they’re going to get, it’s my daughter’s ass hole that they’re going to poke so hard with a very thick stick that it’s going to be really hard. Ouch! Spare your slave girl… Dad, I’m not talking to you. But you don’t have to worry too much. Master has been using your daughter’s ass and belly for the past two years, and your daughter has been forged. Now even this three centimeter thick rod can go in at least ten centimeters, so my daughter can still take it. Ouch, ouch! … Master also wants me to ask you, did you receive the videotape he made of your daughter? …”

That was it, I read the note from my master flatly, interspersed with wails that I couldn’t stand and let out. Truly, I was quickly taught by my master to accept the sad fate of a lifelong sex slave and, sooner or later, to get a cool death sentence when my master got bored.

I no longer see myself as a woman, I am just a condom sewn with double layers of cowhide, the inner layer is used to wrap the man’s prick, and the outer layer is subjected to endless cool beatings. How can I still be qualified to experience shame, shyness, self-esteem, and grief, emotions that only women can enjoy? How can I shed tears for the loving father and lover that only women can have?

I’m afraid that during these four long years, the various orifices of my body have been filled with over twenty thousand strands of men’s semen. Needless to say the master’s twenty or so bodyguards and his nearly two hundred privately armed soldiers know every nook and cranny of my body as well as they know the toilet at the head of their bed at home.

I was once escorted for four months through this mountainous region under the de facto control of my master, naked and shackled. I was made to stay in each village for two to four days, tortured in public during the day and raped by the mountain men at night.

I was once sent to the neighboring country of T to recruit customers for a high-class brothel in a city where the prefectural government was located. What I did was stand on a raised platform all night long showing everyone my interesting female genitalia, and the well-dressed, elegant men enjoyed looking at the real scars and thick chains on my supple body.

I stopped my pen and rested my forehead against the back of my hand and literally cried, twitching my sharp, thin, narrow shoulders pitifully. I would never have done so if my master had not asked me to tell my story from the beginning.

“Okay, okay.” My master leaned over and gently patted me on the back: “Go to the kitchen and bring the coffee pot to make me some coffee, then let Achang comfort you.”

My bare feet tread softly, almost silently, on the cool, polished lucite floor, but the long shackles dragging behind me are as noisy as a whole factory. The spacious corridor that turned from the main study at the back of the house into the front hall was perhaps twenty meters long, with a full wall of bulletproof glass on one side, and outside, in the backyard, was a neat lawn and a small swimming pool. The white pool, with its green water, was where the master had his fun after dusk, and apart from the beautiful dancers he had hired at a high price from the T-country to sing and dance for him, I was the main tool of his entertainment.

Most of the time, my dance partner is the little codpiece snake that is lazily sunning itself in that glass box in the corner of the yard, under the wise guidance of its owner, and it is truly both violent and considerate as it enjoys the tubes and walls of flesh, my plasma and mucus, inside me.

The owner’s cottage was indeed a large house, set back from the mountain on a gently sloping side. Outside the front door an easy road circled down the hillside and led through the modest village cottage further up the mountain. Outside the entrance to the village were two long, wooden houses, and a quick glance told me that they could only be quarters for some sort of group, where my master’s armed guards lived.

The villa was a century or two ahead of its time compared to the pole-and-stick bamboo buildings down the slope. Two Land Cruisers were parked in the garage on the first floor, and the computer screen on the desk blinked brightly. From here my master led his domain, which was about fifty kilometers in circumference. He was a wealthy and generous gentleman in the shire, and he had well-equipped private armies.

Both bureaucrats and county councillors would have liked to have had a friend like that, or at least would not have wished to have an enemy like that. They quickly decided to appoint my master as the administrator of the district, and there was a tradition of ordaining local strongmen in the border areas of M. The local people were very proud of him. As for the local populace, they looked upon him as a heavenly god who would save them from abject poverty. This means that my master can take me to the village below at any time and cut me into pieces in public, and no one from top to bottom will ever say a word.

Bamo, the guard, stared boredly at the television projection screen in the living room that occupied two floors, and Kono, the maid, crossed her arms and stood at attention in the doorway of the work area to one side. They were both of M nationality.

Bammer saw me and yawned widely: “Little bitch, come here and let uncle wash your doggy mouth.”

I walked over and knelt at his feet: “Master told slave girl to come and get something, please uncle don’t let slave girl do it for too long.”

He stood up sloppily, not even bothering to unzip his pants. I unzipped his jeans, plucked the crotch of the bottom pocket to feel out his sweaty, dirty genitals, and straightened out the curly pubic hair from under the elastic band, careful as if I were holding an Italian vase.

This is when the men are most irritable with the women at their feet, kicking me in the stomach at the slightest displeasure. I cupped my breasts with one free hand and acted as lewdly as I could, and God knows what a thin-boned, bloated, wrinkled woman like me looked like when she smiled; I looked forty years old now.

Sure enough, I only licked the root of his scrotum twice before I heard him say, “Okay, put it in your mouth, I’m just taking a piss.” There was no sexual response from his penis at all.

He defecated hotly into my mouth and gave his body a final gentle shake. I hastily gathered my lips together to stroke clean the drops of urine hanging from his glans, which had to be refreshingly and completely swallowed; if a single drop had escaped, a couple of slaps in the face would have been mild at the time, and might have made me hose down the hall floor over and over again for the entire night.

Four years ago this was one of the reasons I was beaten to death over and over again, the heart and unaccustomedness in the beginning not to mention the fact that it took a long time of practice to get it right even if you genuinely wanted to swallow. Because the other person urinates without stopping, you have to learn to swallow without stopping, and it’s easy to build up in your mouth and then spill outside, and when it comes out first class everyone surrounds me and kicks and punches me.

The scariest part was in the barracks below, where soldiers lined up after filling up on beer for me to pick up for them. I knelt down in a large wooden tub and actually managed to drink until my stomach bulged out. Then I threw up in the basin, and when I was done I continued to drink, and the urine drenched my face and body and accumulated most of the basin. I remember finally sitting in the almost waist-deep dirty water and flinching, my mind going blank, no thoughts at all.

The soldiers hadn’t had enough; they tied me to a bench on my back, and a couple of the guys stripped themselves naked, dunked me in a basin of urine, and then whipped me in the stomach with a wooden stick until there was no more water available.

Now I can handle almost ten people in a row and get very clean. My master and one of his youngest wives used to spend months relieving themselves at night without getting out of bed at all, both using my mouth only in bed. It’s even harder to get a woman clean, and it takes a good deal of cooperation from the other person to do it.

My master’s favorite thing was to watch me struggle in all sorts of savage and nasty tortures and ravages, but I knew he also liked to see me working on my knees naked and submissive in front of him, making the chains on my wrists rattle softly, which made him look like a victor in the war with my manhood. I set out the full set of utensils on the tea , ground the coffee, lit the alcohol lamp, and finally brought the tiny coffee cup to my master.

He took a small sip and leaned back: “Were you thinking about your husband when you were so sad just now? Just show us how it’s done here. And, put the handcuffs back on.”

I took a few steps back and lay down on my back on the carpet and closed my eyes. I started at my neck and gradually stroked down to my breasts, “Tao Tao, Tao Tao, come and eat Ah Qing’s milk! Ah Ching’s tits are bigger, so much bigger.”

I mumbled.

I never said that during sex with my husband, except that they liked to hear me say it. But now if it was really Tao kissing and pressing against me, I might actually say it like that, I’ve become so much more, Tao. “I can use my mouth, I can use my asshole, I can use Ah Ching’s bare little , I can make you cum in Ah Ching’s body three times in one night, Tawnya!”

I touched my nipples where they should have been, and now there was only a rough, undulating scar there. My pair of breasts were covered with layers of scars, the skin that had been soft as velvet had turned into dark, hard layers of fibers after one cut and branding, the difficult to read flesh tangled together like earthworms and tumors, while in other places it had never healed, and a two-centimeter-deep hole branded by an iron bar in the tip of my right breast was so deep that I could still stick my middle finger in it until now.

I squeezed my tits out of complete habit, there was no heat that burned my heart or lungs, no throbbing of the-soft numbness that connected to my belly and thighs, the only sensation was the pain of pins and needles.

“My Tao Tao ohh…” It wasn’t screaming in bed anymore, it was screaming in agony. Venus flashed in front of my darkened eyes as I felt heavily downward across my lower back and stomach, unconsciously bending my knees to lift my legs from the ground and stretch them into the air.

“Tao Tao, touch Ah Ching, touch Ah Ching’s little .” I began to gasp as I opened my legs to the two men in the room, exposing my bare bottom clearly.

Between the hard, slippery scars, only the small strip of retained mucous membrane remained cottony and wet, still giving me a little of the sweet touch of being a bride. I rubbed and pinched it hard, felt a little desire and thrust the index and middle fingers of my right hand impatiently into the opening of my vagina, which was dry and sore inside me.

With hot tears in my eyes, I pleaded, “Come in, Xiaotao, don’t be afraid, Qingqing wants you to come in!” I curled my fingers and ferociously pulled them out and back in, again and again. As a female slave who could never escape rape and abuse, torturing my own dry, hard, clenched pussy was the only way I could dream of freedom and indulgence.

At last I began to feel relief, as if I were floating out of a pitch-black abyss, temporarily letting go of eternal pain and humiliation. “O Tawny, O Tawny!” I lifted my back from the floor and into the air, my dirty, cracked bare feet raised high in the air, stomping ridiculously: “Aigoo, a little deeper, aigoo two, a little deeper, my Tao Tao!”

“Ah Ching is not enough! …” I’d been stabbed with a stick that thick for four years, so how could two dried-up, pale fingers be enough? I cried and laughed as my hand felt in my crotch for the thick chain dragging on my wrist. I screamed in ecstasy, impatiently shoving the large, interlocking rings, two by two, into my opening and closing hole… The slippery, lustful liquid flowed like my tears. They balled up heavily and coldly in the depths of my belly and pressed downward to my pelvis.

“Fuck me, Tao!” I cried out in desperation, yanking out with just one hand the strands of metal that had been shoved up to my head as they rolled over the woman’s bright red blood-filled flesh like the wheels of a train! Unspeakably great satisfaction rolled over my whole body at that very second, and my limbs fell back to the floor, my arms and legs spasming like an epileptic seizure.

I poured out a second cup of coffee for my host. The tape was rewound to the head and the projector hit a close-up shot of my lower body on the large screen at the front of the parlor area. My host had been videotaping my torture and rape with great interest, initially to edit out the awfulness of my badgering and torture, and to send a mailbag to my husband when he filled up a tape, but it had turned into an amateur hobby for him. The video head in this room was right above the couch against the wall, and as you can imagine, there was a designated spot for me to masturbate when I followed my master’s orders in order to make sure that I got the best possible display of my sex.

I knelt squarely next to the couch and admired it with them, the lewdness that had just flowed all over my inner thighs was drying and knotting up, and my masters wouldn’t allow me to wipe it off, it was wet and cold.

Achan asked me, “Is it better to have a husband or a chain?”

I said honestly, “Good husband.”

“Are you that much of a wanker for letting your husband poke in?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say your husband was good?” His tone turned cold. Chang had been arrested by the police on the other side of the border, and for four years he had hated me unabashedly.

“Husband… Husband is soft!” I had to reply.

“Hit the mouth!”

I smacked myself in the mouth with my handcuffed hands twisted together, once, twice, three times.

“Stop!” He pointed to the naked me writhing furiously on the screen and said, “Look at that stinking slutty way you’re moving around, and you say you like it soft? Say it again, do you like it soft or hard?”

“Female slaves like it hard.”

“Go yourself and bring your wooden husband.”

“Yes, Uncle Chang.”

The stick they called “Wooden Husband”, which I had been using for four years, was three centimeters in diameter and about thirty centimeters long, with a handle shaped at one end and a thicker rounded end bulging out of the top of the other. Most of the stick was smooth and shiny from my body, and my fluids and blood had turned it a deep black color.

Achang didn’t let me stab myself, he took the stick and gently struck his left palm, and I felt a cold chill rise up my back.

“Is this hard enough for you?” He said with a sardonic smile.

I lay back down on the ground and he sat on my waist with his back to my face, running his hands over the soft inner walls of my hole: “Bitch hole is as bare as a fucking asshole, I’m going to beat you until you swell up like a rotten peach!”

He swung the stick and hit me hard between my legs.

“Aaah… uh… uh… uh…” I let out a half-whisper of horror before my throat was choked by the acid that came up in my stomach. It was as if a large piece of spiked wood had been driven into my lower body, and the pain and swelling were beyond a woman’s ability to bear.

“Shout: husband heavier ah, heavier ah!” Achang said lightly.

I didn’t dare to cry out: “Uncle Chang, ouch… please stop, slave girl…” I didn’t finish my sentence before I received a second blow.

“O husband, heavier!” The third stroke.

“Aigoo, husband!” Fourth, fifth, sixth…

“It hurts! Ah Ching, it hurts… Husband…”

I lay there in a cold sweat, I was in so much pain I couldn’t move. The beast threw away the stick, took both my hands and swung the chain attached to it, smashing it accurately against the protrusion of my pubic bone, and with a loud bang my eyes were filled with a dark silver light, and the silhouette of the man turned into a black shadow. The chain flew up and hit me again, and I couldn’t see a thing.

When I woke up, all I could feel was a fire burning under my navel, painful and hot. My nerves couldn’t find my feet or where my legs were, and it was as if I had become a void below my waist. Achan stood tall next to my neck and kicked me in the jaw, twisting my head back so that I could see my genitals upside down from below.

On the projection screen I could see a hemispherical bruised lump bulging full at the base of my thighs, smooth and translucent, with only a small, tightly squeezed slit above it, pitifully off to one side, containing a large dewdrop, and I couldn’t find my urethral opening anywhere at all. A little above the pussy port was a large black and red bloody bag, and I think the bones inside had been broken by the chains.

It was only now that Cheong began to pull down his pants, and he peeled open my bruised slit to squeeze his organ in brutally… “Papa-yah…” My swollen mass of flesh clamped down on the root of his column of flesh, and I convulsed and contracted in excruciating pain, causing him to roar and yell in excitement as he came on top of me. He purposely pulled himself out completely, then came back and slammed into my injured area; he pressed his hardened bones against my hematoma, rocking desperately from side to side.

“Dad… oohhh… I, I a… gently ah…” I don’t know what I’m saying, and I don’t know how long he’s been inside me.

┅┅

This last paragraph, which I wrote off and on while lying on the floor, I felt like I couldn’t even breathe, suffocating my chest. My stomach was immersed in a large puddle of water, a trip of cold sweat from me. My master said to me that I had written well, and that was enough for today, and that it was time for the other brethren to play with my swollen ones.

“Cheong, get her into your room, and tell everyone to work harder at it, and don’t leave her empty until midnight.” As to whether I should be put through the stake to-morrow, my master said he would have to think about it.

My Four Years as a Sex Slave II: Naked Abuse

Burned with incense, bitch Lin Qingqing writes in a sobbing voice

I’m 6’7″ tall and weighed 50 kilograms the year we got married, but my husband always told people I was 5’0″ to satisfy his vanity. I can see that I’m not really a bony girl, but I’ve always been quite confident in my own body shape, four years ago, I always look in the mirror in the shower to study my own thin, soft, white waist. On the contrary, my breasts had always been small and pointed, and my nipples were always as soft as peach buds, even during orgasms.

My husband is strangely enamored of my ankles, which he says are as thin as a deer’s foot and that he can circle them with just his forefinger and forefinger, which is, of course, coaxing. When we made love, he would bend my long legs back to hold my ankles instead of my thighs. k-town was a mild city, and I liked to wear long floral dresses in the summer, but in order to take care of my husband’s eyes, I always wore my bare feet in slinky slingback slippers and clear nail polish. After I got married, I kept picking fights with him, but when I was alone, I silently looked at my own undulating, crystalline snow-like insteps, imagining Xiaotao’s big hands touching them, and feeling the hot honey stained through the silk lace wrapped tightly around my body under the skirt.

I studied agroforestry and after graduation I joined a tropical field species research institute. I wasn’t a good employee and didn’t do much all day, and there certainly wasn’t much there for us to do. My family background allowed me to have a relatively generous life, or at least not to have to worry about making ends meet, which is just a self-evident fact. It was enough to make my father proud that I didn’t get into bed with lounge bosses or bootleg car dealers like everyone else in the circle.

I commute to work every day in a Japanese car that a friend lent to my husband. The night my current owner did it I was on the ring road, not many cars next to me, when an Audi cut into my lane, a few minutes later it suddenly slowed down, I instinctively hit the brakes and the Mitsubishi Jeep behind me hit my rear end not too hard.

All three cars stopped. If I were a trained police officer, it might have occurred to me that the car in front shouldn’t have stopped. The middle-aged man who got out of the back had a scowl on his face and smiled sweetly at the sight of a saucy older girl. Phila had made it look like the real thing; he was an important cadre of my master’s, a T-Islander. Then he had once been sick enough to torture me for a week straight.

He said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m willing to pay for the repairs.” The man in the Audi laughed and walked up behind me, but I didn’t care. Then I felt a slight jab on my hip, and I was only slightly surprised when I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I was lying on the concrete floor with my hands behind my back. Looking at my naked breasts and the dark body hair peeking out from the edges of my smooth belly, I pretty much assumed that I was having another one of those beautiful dreams! But compared to the dream, the men next to me were a little too real, and they were gazing at my body with undisguised interest. I blushed, this was really the first time in my adult life that I was naked in front of a man other than my husband.

I twisted my body on the ground, my wrists cuffed tightly behind my back, and I noticed that my feet were also locked together with a pair of shiny silver iron cuffs. I began to think of the crash, followed by many news stories of carjackings and killings, and I thought it must be my turn this time, I’d more than likely be raped and screwed up, I was afraid I was going to get killed.

My heart was pounding and my whole body was breaking out in a cold sweat, but I was able to control myself, and I asked with the calmness that a young woman can have in such a situation, “Who are you?” It didn’t really matter who they were, I just felt like saying something.

The old man in the center began to speak, telling me who he was and where I was. For the first time I gazed at the master who would decide whether I lived or died for the next four years.

He spoke of his brother’s arrest in the territory six months ago, and afterward it was assumed that his brother’s men were mixed up with the police.

After that he himself came back to the country to move around and finally decided to kidnap me when he was at his wits’ end.

He told me that he would suggest to my father and my husband that they try to exonerate his brother. He said that he would never hurt me if he could save his brother, and now he just needed my help to make a tape.

The other two men helped me up as civilly as they could and uncuffed me behind my back, the skin on my wrists had been rubbed off in circles and it was the sight of blood that made me feel the pain. They pressed down on the bend of my knees and made me kneel on the floor, which I obeyed, and then someone handed me a copy of the day’s newspaper and signaled me to hold it up on my stomach under my breasts so that I could show that I was indeed alive on this day. The newspaper was not from Maven, my masters were always discreet.

A new man came in and videotaped me with a hand-held camera and made me read a simple message to the effect that I was now afraid and if my father valued my life, please do as my kidnappers asked. The camera made a circle around my naked body.

The iron cuffs on my feet were also unlocked, and only a nightgown was brought, nothing else. I silently wrapped myself in it in front of several men. Here was an empty basement with bare concrete walls, and after walking barefoot up more than ten stairs, a three-story beautifully designed building appeared in front of my eyes.The sun’s rays were intensely bright in M. The sun’s rays were strong and dazzling.

I lived under house arrest for eight days in a guest room on the second floor of the villa. The suite came with a bathroom and a neat change of clothes hanging in the closet. The only person I could see was the maid who brought me my meals, and she even changed my sheets every day. At noon on the ninth day, I was brought back to the basement and ordered by a man who looked like a leader, “Take off your clothes, strip naked!” I later learned that he was Achang.

I felt the blood rush to my face and I didn’t move. Achang didn’t say another word, he just punched me in the stomach and I took two steps back and sat on the ground. Achang stepped forward and kicked me in the stomach without any panic, his face was expressionless, like a machine with a precise rhythm.

I used my hands to block his feet, how can I block! I couldn’t take it anymore, and shouted, “I’ll take it off, I’ll take it off myself, I’ll take it off.” He didn’t seem to hear me at all, and kept hitting me until I rolled into a ball in the corner and stopped.

I stripped myself right there, my entire flat stomach already all blue.

“Shoes!”

I pulled off the flat cloth shoes they gave me as well.

It turns out that this basement has several deep inside the iron door, even a girl like me can tell that the inner room is a place for torturing people. In the middle of the room there was a gleaming silver not  steel countertop, in the side there was a modest gas stove and a few large buckets of water, some chains and hooks hanging down high and low from the roof, and quite a lot of iron rings fixed on the walls and floors as if there was nothing regular about them. The cement floor had just been hosed down and was wet, but the black marks on the walls in chunks and stripes were dried and knotted blood, I’m afraid?

I was so scared, and my stomach and back hurt so much from Achang’s kicks, that when someone said, “Kneel down,” I did so without resistance. It was then that I saw the gloomy old man, my master, who had been sitting in an old wicker chair at one end of the room, and I faced him squarely.

“Your old man is in the hospital. You don’t have to be nervous, he is pretending to be sick, neither answering the phone nor seeing visitors. Your husband also took a long vacation, all the cases in hand were handed over, he also handed in an application to be transferred to another division. My brother has been changed to a guardhouse, got somewhere unknown, and the rolls will soon be transferred to the public prosecutor.”

He slowly said, “Your old man is really determined!”

“Girl, in the past, how many people opened their eyes every morning and the first thing they thought of was how to kill our brothers, but in the end, it wasn’t us who died. Having just gained a little bit of ground… this time my brother is really going to die.” My master paused for a while: “Cheong, come on!”

It was easy for them to drag me up, but they ordered me like a cat playing with a mouse, “Stand up and lie down on the stage by yourself!”

I was a young girl with not an inch of my body on, surrounded by five or six fierce men, what could I do? Maybe I could only cry! I clenched my lips and forced myself to move to climb up onto that countertop, trying not to make eye contact with the people next to me. The steel surface was cold and prickly.

My host later told me that he did admire my composure a little that day: “How many women in that room have not been touched, and she was as noisy as a chicken or a duck.”

They spread my hands and feet wide apart and secured them to the edge of the stage with straps, and everyone began to undress. I tilted my head to the side and closed my eyes — my love!

They groped my body, touched my genitals and pinched my nipples with vigor.

“Little bitch, grandma’s too small!” A naked body pressed up and kissed me on the lips with the heavy smell of cigarette smoke. Down there he slammed into my pussy with little preparation and I fought to wiggle my ass to avoid him. The cock poked around my opening for a while and then backed off as laughter erupted around me.

I felt him pull back the lips of the flesh I was shivering with and try the position of my hole, and then the beast put several fingers together and stabbed them down hard into my hole that was clenching from shame, and he did it with all his strength, only one finger was inserted into my cunt, and the other fingers were jammed up against my delicate opening, and I think he tore my mucous membranes apart. I screamed out loud in pain and anger as he surprised me by curling up the finger that was buried inside me, cutting his nails into the walls of my flesh, and then, and then he pulled outward… I wasn’t a sixteen or seventeen year old virgin, I was married to a woman, and sexual intercourse was a sweet thing for me and for the one I loved, and I wasn’t just willing, I was eager to meander and entwine with Xiaotao all night long on the floor of the even… I had even conceived a little seed in my belly for a man, but I never knew that human sexual relations could be so tyrannical.

I didn’t dare to struggle anymore, and listened as he tried once more with his cock wiggling around. Finally he grunted and his thick organ thrust so forcefully into my end that I felt nothing but pain.

He moved and moved, moaning ugly, and when he stopped, I could feel his burning flesh shaking gently. “Ouch… ouch… out… out!” He screamed louder than my miserable whimpers.

“Throw that shit away, it stinks drier than wood.” He cursed as he moved out of the way.

The second, the third… By the fourth or fifth, the man was halfway down the stairs.

“Koh, your mom didn’t teach you how to get it, did she?”

“This one’s not as big as your mom’s. Can’t find the hole?”

“Shoot it in the bitch’s belly button!”

┅┅

Many voices laughed and cursed nastily.

I opened my eyes slightly, arching my back and crouching over me was a teenager of fifteen at most, his child-like round face reddened and beads of sweat hanging from his tiny chest. My heart softly skipped a beat and I knew something was broken.

This little guy didn’t know anything about it, and he was only halfway through his third down before he was a mess. And he thought that’s what women were like! Those darned old guys noticed right away.

“Come on, the little bitch is in heat!”

“Really, the little things are bucking.”

“I really didn’t see it coming, Wen Wen’s a big girl, and her ti head is sticking out like a little dick!”

“She’s flopping like a monkey’s ass!”

┅┅

Mine Easily put the next column of flesh in and then tightened around it, hard one, one, and then another, I really couldn’t stop ah! I shuddered and wailed out together with the man on top of me, knowing that my lower body was undulating like a wave for this beast. My Tao… Do you know what your little wife, who never invites anyone, is suffering?

How can a woman be so sore, so ashamed, and at the same time so hungry for their flesh?… By the time this man came out, I was already as mad as a hatter, and it took my betrayed body only about ten seconds to destroy the next man who came up, and then I lost most of my consciousness, but I knew that they kept on coming up.

I opened my eyes with a shiver, and a large, cold splash of water was exploding in my face. My windpipe was so sore and painful with all the water that I couldn’t breathe. Then someone said, “It’s almost sold, come down!”

I looked toward the man, dumbfounded as to what that meant half the time. I really didn’t mean to disobey him, I just simply couldn’t react. I watched as the belt in his hand swung up and swept across my breasts, and I watched a crimson cleft blossom across my white flesh, but it was as if I’d just been hit with it, and it didn’t really hurt, and I didn’t feel particularly scared.

I listened as they lifted me up and placed me on the ground, and it turned out that the restraints on my hands and feet had been removed. I crouched limply on my knees on the concrete floor and they grabbed me by the hair again to pull my upper body upward and straight, and it was then that I saw my inner thighs drenched and filthy with man’s semen, dried and slowly running, flecks of it adhering to the grime, and a stream of blood that had parted a couple of forked paths down the belly of my leg and had dissolved unterminally in the goo and turned into a bloodstained filament. There was a tear in my labia on one side, and the soft, gray, thick juice was hanging down from my already closed slit, “snapping” to the floor and pulling out a few shiny strands in my pubic hair.

My master stared at my face, and I think he must have seen something that satisfied him: straggly black hair, dirty sweat and tear stains, and my forlorn, desperate eyes. My mind was distant and numb, and he spoke a sentence that made me shudder in retrospect: “You will be fucked by my men like this every day until you can no longer do it, and then you will die. Unless my brother is released, pray for my brother a few times a day!”

The master stood up from his chair with his cup of tea in his hand and walked out the door. After a moment of silence, Achan lifted my chin and asked, “There are about ten other brothers on shift up there, has your cop husband ever fucked your little asshole?”

I wasn’t finally alone until early the next morning, and before I left, they cuffed my hands together again and nailed a pair of shackles with a very long chain to my feet, the iron bars coiled into the chain rings thicker than my index finger.

I lay on my back on the cold ground with my eyes wide open, my mind blank, thinking of nothing, and didn’t move a muscle for the rest of the morning. A large puddle of sticky, slippery liquid gradually oozed out from under my ass, and I think it was still bleeding at the same time. It was as if a sack of splinters had been stuffed into my belly, it was so swollen, heavy and numb that even if I wanted to move, I had nowhere to use my strength, but I didn’t feel much pain in either the front or the back.

No, my husband didn’t do that. It was probably true that a number of people had peeled off my ass and ejaculated in my colon during the night, but I had no memories of what should have been a very painful first time, and I never fully regained consciousness that day after the erotic climax had passed.

By the time I had finished writing the sentence above, my master coughed his staff, signaling me to stop. As with the last time, he had been watching in fascination as I organized paragraph after paragraph of text.

It’s a new game he’s come up with to insult me and make me write my own story of my misery. The day I wrote a beginning was probably in December, and now they tell me it’s 2001.

The last long day didn’t end until late at night: everyone had been doing their best to torture my swollen pussy from Achan’s beatings. Finally I was dragged through the iron door at the far end of the basement, where there was another twenty square meters or so that the owner used to incarcerate people he didn’t like. One half of the room was divided into cubicles by bars like an animal cage, and the other half had five to six square iron lids on the floor.

Xiao Xu lifted up one of them, revealing a square concrete pit, only about sixty centimeters in length and width, slightly deeper, maybe more than eighty centimeters, with a covered drain on the bottom plane.

I know this pit well, I’ve been in it for a quarter of these four years.

Xiao Xu is now a handsome nineteen year old, and I think he often realizes that my body is his first, which sometimes makes him even harder on me than Achang. He teasingly called me “bare ass sister”.

“Bare-assed sister,” he said cheekily, “you’re going to be living in there for a while, so stick this in there, it’s the only thing that comforts you.” This bad guy even put the “wooden husband”

It’s all brought down.

I took it bending my legs slightly and inserted the stick into my body, my pussy was swollen and aching but still moist and it was not too difficult to get to the bottom. He also had to cuff my hands behind my back.

There are only two ways to live in it: one is to sit on your buttocks and squeeze your legs in front of your chest; the other is to kneel down first and then sit on your heels. Either way, when the iron cover is pressed down, you have to lower your head, and from the side, you can imagine yourself as an “h” or “Z” shape, but the upper half of the vertical part of the h is folded over. Then it’s total darkness, you have no room to move your limbs, you have to stay in the same position until the next time someone opens the lid.

In order to keep light and sound out, the lid was surrounded by rubber mats, and inside, one relied on the cracks in the drain for air, and one would soon be out of breath, and with the hot climate of M, it was really hard to be stuffed in there. Once a day the lid would be opened to give me some water and maybe a few more mouthfuls of food if they wanted to.

I would have died if I hadn’t, but not cleaning the pit wouldn’t have killed me, and in long term captivity it might have been a month before I was rinsed with water, which would have been a bath of sorts in the meantime. One can only imagine what it was like in the hole before that day.

It took until last night to drag me out, and my whole body was so numb that I couldn’t feel anything at all.

In order to watch me write another paragraph today, my master had two of his maids soak me in the bathtub in warm water all night, and then worked hard at massaging me all over my body before my joints loosened up a bit in various places.

It had only been a month or so, and one summer I had been locked up in a cave for six months straight, only to be let out when someone wanted to use my body for pleasure, but of course I had to be desperately cleaned up first.

Under those circumstances, I quickly lost the concept of time, and I didn’t even know if a year or a day had passed in complete darkness. The only thing I had left to hope for was that a man would think to fuck me so that I could stretch my limbs and get some fresh air.

The master said, “Don’t you even remember the first time your shriveled walnut-like ass saw red? Achang and the others were so mesmerized at that time! Use that a few times and think about it!”

Today is Xiao Xu instead of Achang accompanied by the master guarded next to me, at first he let me put that stick into the vagina, whenever I write to the place where I was raped, they said: “stop and stab a few times, so that the writing out of the flavor.”

I held onto the table and barely stood up. It was strictly forbidden for me to sit in public, and I could only kneel with both knees on the floor, and after so many years the calluses on my knees had become as thick as the soles of my feet. Today my master has given me special permission to sit in his chair and use his large countertop, as I have weakened to the point where I can’t kneel very steadily anymore.

I dropped to the ground and raised my buttocks high in the air, twisting my body to insert the stick into my anus, and then muttered as if reciting a sutra, “Ouch… ah… so hard… so fierce… slave girl can’t do it anymore… my pussy is wet… ah… ah… ah… can’t take it… please!”

I’ve played this kind of trick on them I don’t know how many times, but they still look at it the same way, men are so boring in places like this.

Stabbing until the master is satisfied: “Okay, go back to the beginning and continue writing!”

Back to the beginning. After being gang-raped all day and all night, I lay in the basement until mid-afternoon, when I was escorted out of the courtyard of the villa and made to walk naked in broad daylight dragging chains all the way to the soldiers’ camp at the bottom of the hill. In just a few hundred meters, the skin of my delicate ankles was worn off by the iron rings of the shackles, and my delicate feet, which had never walked naked outdoors before, were even more riddled with wooden spikes and gravel.

I’ll spend the night there and be taken back to the villa in the morning.

Up to the tenth day that was every day. My master put a little restriction on his soldiers, scheduling nearly twenty men per night for twenty minutes each, and a party of fifty or more could wheel back and forth over me four times in as many days, and the bodyguards on this side of the villa during the day were left entirely to their own devices.

It was only on about the third day that I had come to the point where I didn’t care about the endlessly pumping cock anymore. I lay down on the bed or on the floor, spreading my legs almost instinctively, and watched in boredom as they climbed up and slid down one by one. Anyone who wanted anal sex, patted my ass for a gesture and I rolled over into a standard position; for oral sex, I climbed up and took him in my mouth. Sex drive and orgasms were of course not even talked about, and the sensation could probably be compared to a daily bowel movement.

It’s really easy to turn a woman into a whore, no matter how sensitive and shy she once was, how well educated she once was. For a woman, after twenty sexual acts with twenty different men, adding another one or a thousand doesn’t make much difference.

In a few days it would be hard to even be a whore, my vagina and anus had been rubbed so much by the man that it was first red and swollen and engorged, then completely festered. The man’s thing stabbed in like a red-hot iron bar and pulled out with my blood and flesh, and it only took three or five strokes for me to pass out from the pain, and he’d continue to work it harder and harder until he woke me up hard from the pain. Luckily, most people would let me suck them out at the sight of that kind of blood, but there were always a few who just liked to do it in the blood and water.

I don’t remember if it was the ninth or the tenth day, but my master announced to the soldiers in the camp that he was going to give a reward to anyone who was still willing to use my vagina and anus. I cried my voice out completely that day and couldn’t make a sound for five or six days.

I probably did everything a woman could do for a man in those days, and in one of the weirdest ways I had not only never heard of or done before, I had never even thought that it was possible to do that, and someone actually thought of it and actually did it by ejaculating in my bladder. He worked so hard to insert his genitals into my urethra, tearing the muscles there in the process, that I didn’t really know my urethra was capable of expanding that far.

It hurt, but there was still a strange sensation of being fucked in the urethra, especially when he pulled out, kind of like holding it in and suddenly releasing it.

At the end of ten days of this, with my front and back bleeding, I was finally allowed to lie quietly for a few days in a cage in the basement, where I was given daily injections of the latest generation of antimicrobials. After this start I never stopped using the medication, and it has continued until now, otherwise I would have been rolling on the floor every day with my skin torn and tattered, and I am afraid that I would have been leaking to the point that even my bones would have rotted into a puddle of pus and blood.

Ten kilometers away from my master’s villa, Rakjin was the administrative center of the district, with a road running through the middle of the town and a total of three brick buildings on either side of the road. One was the office of the district government, and one was a military barracks that housed the other half of my master’s soldiers. There was also a school at one end of the road, which my master had paid for, and all the others were ordinary homes made of bamboo and wood. Theoretically, this is where my master should be performing his duties, but most of the time it is Phila who is here as his representative.

The two-and-a-half-ton farm truck drove on the mountain road for about an hour until it reached the open field on one side of the town, where a number of villagers from various cottages who came to do small business had always gathered in a spontaneous bazaar.

The bodyguards, who had changed into local ethnic clothing, pushed the naked me right off the ground. After a few days of rest, I recovered a little. My hands were handcuffed behind my back, and around my neck was a large wooden sign that read: “I am a female WAGONG, I am a bitch.”

“WAGONG” is an armed political force from the area a little west of here, which was defeated by government forces a few years ago and has now been renamed the WA Self-Defense Forces.

The WA Self-Defense Army had a bad reputation in the area, and there were often rumors of them robbing and killing people. Someone shouted to the crowd, “We are from Mo Yan Zhai. This woman is the concubine of the commander of the third branch of the WAGONG, and we caught her. We’ve brought her to the district to make her suffer a little, so that we can all take it out on her.” I was made to stand with my back against the trunk of a tree and tied straight with a rope in a circle.

To torture a woman, stabbing her breasts is unavoidable, and it doesn’t take anything very thick or hard to stab a woman’s breasts. A girl’s nipples are too keen and tender, and they are ready with fine wire. I can never describe the agony of a young girl’s soft, wet, nipples, like little field things, when they are penetrated by so fine a spike. It didn’t just irritate my skin and flesh, it was so thin and tough that it could slide down a woman’s lactation ducts into the center of her breasts, deep into the lining of my tightly-adherent glands, and then even just turn it around and poke it… If you weren’t a woman, you wouldn’t be able to imagine what kind of pain you were experiencing at that time. I can’t even tell you whether it was pain, itching, or fire, but I felt that my heart, liver, stomach and intestines were all convulsing and twisting together deep inside my body, and I couldn’t even cry out if I wanted to.

“Please, please…” I begged, panting and begging, “Come and fuck me, don’t stab me anymore… I’ll do anything you want! Don’t… I can’t stand it!”

They loved it, the wire pulling out and sticking back in, pulling and sticking again, and just doing this monotonous thing ad infinitum. The delicate muscles in my chest twisted and turned like little worms, first tears, then cold sweat, saliva hung around my mouth, piss flowed from my legs, and then even my cunt twitched and secreted sticky juice.

Back then, I would have done whatever I was asked to do, really, whatever. But no one wanted me to do anything, they just wanted me to be miserable and in pain.

There was a big circle of people standing around and everyone looked like they were watching a circus act. My head hung low on my chest and my eyes were closed. “When is this all going to end?” As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw my small breasts, held tightly by dark, thick fingers, trembling under the wire.

“Stop for a while, dear brother ah, dear uncle ah, aiya, stop for a while!”

They stopped: “Little bitch, how about a new trick?” I just wanted to catch my breath, and I nodded my head desperately.

The new trick was bamboo sticks, someone had already sharpened a handful, two inches long. Holding my breast in the palm of my hand, I stabbed it in so hard toward the areola that only a small tail was left exposed. Take another one, turn it at a slight angle and stick it in again. Four or five bamboo sticks surrounded my nipple in the center. That was just the beginning, I watched as the tiny sticks circled around and stuck all over both of my breasts, they now looked like a pair of bloody little thorns, it was pathetic.

Unwrapped me, I sat under a big tree, want to vomit. Achang held one of my hands to see: “neat and tidy hand is really nice ah, read so many books, never dug cassava, right?”

My nails were so carefully manicured and pointed that they hadn’t been spoiled by them in the last ten days or so, and the iron tongs could hold them very sturdily. Binding one of my white, slender hands tightly to the trunk, the first to be picked was the middle finger of my right hand. As soon as Achan gripped the pliers tightly and pressed outward, I could see the slice of my nail detach from the flesh at its base, flooding it with a half circle of blood. I screamed as Achan shook the pliers and pushed it back again. He pulled again, and all that was left of my fingertip was tender flesh dripping with blood and lifting a piece of fleshy skin.

Achan showed me the nail with the bloody tendons and strands of flesh attached to it, threw it away, and clamped my index finger again.

He didn’t spare a single finger and then told me, “Just wait bitch, it’s your back paw’s turn this afternoon.”

At noon I was forced to kneel alone under the sun, my hands handcuffed in front of me dripping blood from ten fingertips, my breasts full of bamboo sticks resembling two hillocks full of saplings. Two young local boys, wearing nothing at all, kept running up to me, staring curiously at my breasts, and one of them stretched out a finger and touched the bamboo stick stuck right in the middle of my nipple tip, and asked in Mandarin, “Don’t you feel any pain?”

The bodyguards rested and ate in the shade, leisurely preparing for another afternoon of work.

As per Achan’s orders and theirs, I sat down on the floor and straightened my legs forward and tied my hands behind me as the people in town who were fine with it circled around again. The toenails weren’t easy to pinch, but that didn’t bother Bammer, who just stuck an ordinary fruit knife into the crack of my toenail and pried it upward, then was able to pull it off easily with his pliers. He pulls one off and I go “Ouch!” Ouch.

This time he left me with two big toes. He felt around on the ground for a while to find two bamboo sticks left over from the morning, and drove them into the cracks of my toenails with vigor before smoothly sidestepping the poker in his hand to drive them in one at a time, my heart throbbing painfully down my throat. I couldn’t help but open my mouth, and all that gushed out was the sour, bitter water in my stomach.

Now we all chatted and laughed, and as if nothing had happened, we put the thick wire around the root of my big toe that had just had a bamboo stick inserted into it, and twisted the joint up with pliers. It was already tight, but it was still screwed down, loop by loop, until the wire was jammed whole and deep into the flesh, and then it was off to attach the other big toe. In between my own cries of pain, I heard the “chug, chug, chug” of the toe breaking, and wondered if it was the bamboo nail or my bone that was breaking.

The wire joints that had been left out and the twine were wound together and I was pulled up toward the tree, one foot hanging on one side of the limb while the other hung to the other side until the top of my head was off the ground.

The two toes that held my full weight ached as if they were broken, and while my face was red with the blood rushing in, my whole body was chilled, and sweat poured like a stream into my nostrils and eyes. Someone was rubbing the rough palm of his hand vigorously against my genitals, which were spread wide toward the heavens, his pointed nails starting at the base of my thighs in the fat, fleshy slit and scratching all the way down to the underside of the fleshy lips of my middle. I shivered from the bottom of my heart at the sensation of being stroked upside down as they laughed and laughed, and then the belt snapped on it.

“Oh shit!” I screamed, my body twisting and turning, “My foot! Ouch… my foot!”

Followed closely by my second call out.

They stop for a while to let me get a good sense of the pain in various parts of my body, and then pump it up there again when I’m just a little calmer.

Stifling pain, stifling madness, I screamed again.

And so they beat on, beating me until I no longer had the strength to scream out. Incontinent piss roiled out and down into my own mouth, while my stomach juices and saliva soaked all the way to the tips of my hair.

By the time I woke up I was lying on the floor, and I was terrified to see that the knuckles of both my feet had been stretched in half, and I felt that my pussy had split in half down the middle. It wasn’t dark yet, my ordeal wasn’t over, the bodyguards laughed gleefully and told me that the next time would be even worse, but I didn’t even have the strength to be afraid anymore.

This time my two big toes were screwed together tightly on the wire and hung me back upside down again, my head tilted helplessly downward half a meter above the ground, my breasts less than a meter above the ground. Achang lifted his leg and kicked me squarely in the side of my breast, and my whole body swung backward and hit the tree trunk with a dull thud. At the same time, I curved my body upwards with amazing strength: my breasts! My soft boobs that were pierced by a million arrows!

My body swung back toward the standing Cheong and he lifted his leg to kick me again in the other breast.

I spent that night in the Razin barracks. Nothing else counted, the worst part was when the soldiers grabbed me by the neck and pressed me down on the edge of the bed to rape my anus, and my breasts, which were already dripping like rotten fruit, were squeezed so flat in the center that I could feel a dozen or so bamboo spikes writhing inside them at the same time.

I was kept in Lajin for four days in all, and every morning I was brought naked to the market and tortured severely in public for four days. On the second day, I was smashed all over with bamboo slices, and the flesh of my body was pierced with thin bamboo wires that had been broken off; on the third day, I was pressed, one by one, with red-hot iron bars, into the cracks that had been turned over by the slices of bamboo, saying that it was to stop the bleeding.

By the time this night I have become a bloody meatball, no man will still touch me, so pull me up on my knees with my back against the trunk of the tree tightly bound, legs apart on both sides of the tree, in the middle of a small bench stuffed into a small bench, the bench put an alcohol lamp, lit the fire just licked my pussy account, roasted a pair of large labia a one to the outside of the beads of oil, “squeak! “Squeaking” and dripping downward, my forehead layer by layer sweating outward.

It kept me roasting until midnight and dropped me over in the second half of the night, thankfully by then my pussy was only numb and not sore. This time I was made to hug the tree and kneel down facing outward exposing my ass, and after a few moments of adjustments everyone placed the alcohol lamp just where it would burn right up to my anal opening.

On the fourth day Achang sufficed with just a wire brush, which he held and brushed heavily from my skinned chest down to the base of my thighs. stroke, the shiny bristles were covered with strands of broken tendons and shredded flesh, and then Bamo, who was guarding a wine jar, poured more of the locals’ earthy shochu over me. I cried out in pain and rolled A. over A., and several of them could not hold me down, but then Bamo, who was guarding a wine jar, poured more of the locals’ earthy shochu over me. They were able to relax and stab me in every wound with sharp wires and marinate my rotten flesh in the wine.

All I can remember about the latter days is the endless, maddening variety of pain. And on one night, I don’t know which one, I suddenly came out of my stupor for a few minutes and saw a very bright star on the zenith of the sky. It strangely occurred to me that all the scenes of the past few days must have been videotaped by my master’s caller, and if Dai Tao were to see them, I wonder how sad it would make him! “I’m sorry Xiaotao.” I thought so, and fell back into a drowsy haze.

From the videos my owner would later show me, I kept my eyes shut tightly, squirming like a cabbage worm and making a little “whimpering” sound in a vague way whenever the iron was burned on the meat or the soju was poured on my body.

By the time I could remember again, I was lying in the guest room of my master’s villa, and my master had his Dr. Wong treat my injuries very carefully. He barely saved my labia majora with the best burn medicine. When my master came to see me, I struggled to my feet and knelt naked on the floor in front of the bed.

“Get well, Ah Qing.” My master said kindly: “After ten days and half a month when you can walk, then let Achang accompany you to several cottages outside. Lazhen alone is not enough!”

My Four Years as a Sex Slave No. 3: The Naked Show

A hundred lashes later, the bitch Lin Qingqing wrote in severe pain all around her body

Dr. Wong certainly didn’t miss the opportunity to rape me, and he washed me so clean that I belonged to him alone, at least for a while. I didn’t particularly hate him; after all those days of miserable torture, he finally let me lie on the washed sheets when he fucked me, and he more or less touched my body beforehand.

Such lazy days of recuperating from my illness were certainly not to be allowed to pass much longer by my master. When I had just recovered a little of my strength and was able to get up and waddle a few laps around the yard, someone came to tell me that it was time to set out for the various cottages.

I thought I would be shaking in my boots, but when the day came, there was nothing to be afraid of. A few people were busy for a while, locking my whole body with the whole set of chains mentioned earlier, and then hanging the wooden sign that reads “I am a female WAGONG, I am a bitch” around my neck, Achang led five people to take me out of the master’s villa.

In fact, there were quite a few local cottages where you could drive in a car, but my owner wanted me to be driven naked for public display. He wanted me to drag a ten-pound chain with my tender body, barefoot, step by step, all over his territory. The bodyguards were indeed ruthless, and before I even stepped out of the gate of the courtyard, the whips in their hands were snapping on my bare back.

I just slowly crossed the hillside below the Mo Yan Cottage, Achang and the others did not let me stop here. The villagers stood under the eaves of the house gazing at my naked torso with some surprise, these days they knew more or less: my master was taking revenge on a woman.

So do I feel humiliated? Hardly. In the civilized, lawful life to which I had been accustomed in the past, a woman naked in a crowd was a horrible, heretical thing, and just to imagine it made the heart tremble. But in this hot, dirty, barbaric land, where nothing seemed impossible, where a woman could be gang-raped by all and sundry for a whole night, and then beaten to a pulp with bamboo gimlets, it was a small thing to walk around with nothing on in front of men.

Even if my cheeks were more or less burning at first, my attention quickly shifted to my legs and feet. Having only walked up the opposite hill, my abraded ankles and feet were already leaking red with blood, and every step I took hurt like pins and needles. And I couldn’t stop for a moment, the people following me were waiting for me to show a little disobedience so they could have a chance to whip me two more times.

When I walked into a village, I was told to kneel down in a clearing, and they went to the headman of the village to gather the villagers together and tell the men that they could enjoy my body as much as they wanted for the day and night.The people in this part of the country don’t seem to care much about this kind of thing, and in case the townspeople weren’t too enthusiastic because of the mukdangs, the bodyguards who took me would encourage them with some small gifts: wine or bullets. Anyway, in the end, everyone was always happy to get inside me endlessly, just like at a festival.

By the time the next morning rolled around, the man who was still on top of me trying his hardest had no idea how many times he was trying his hardest, and there would even be a mother squatting between my legs with her son, who was only a little over ten years old, encouraging the little boy to be brave enough to do it for the first time.

In the larger walled villages it might go on until the third day, and after making sure that everyone who wanted to do it had cum in me at least once, Achang and the others would hang me upside down with my legs spread apart, whip my already excruciatingly painful pussy, stab me in the breasts with a small bamboo skewer in reverse, then whip me all over my body with bamboo slats, and scald my tummy and thighs with a very thin bar of iron that was placed in a bonfire and burned red hot. What surely won the admiration of the onlookers was the final branding of my labia majora and minora, a shortened version of what I had suffered at Razen, only to a lesser extent, so that I would be able to get up and go on the next day.

This night, if Achang was in a good mood, he might allow me to lie down in the open field of the fortress. That way when the sun rose, though I was tired and sore, I could still barely get up under their whips and fists and feet to walk the next distance.

The sun of Southeast Asia is burning hot above my head, drenching sweat marinating my skin and flesh rolling wounds, Achang special care not to take out the bamboo nails buried in my breasts, I’ve been on the road with them, wait until the next walled village to be tortured and then pulled out, and then on the spot to the skin and flesh wounds to re-stake it back, two or three rooted I have to die of pain in the past time.

I was kindly told not to drag the shackles behind me when I walked, but to lift the chain and hold it so that my ankles would feel better. As I said, the chain I was given to wear on my hand was also very long, and I had to struggle to carry it in my hand as well. The mountain path between one village and another was strewn with sharp gravel, and I was dragging along it with a great deal of iron “clattering”.

In the boredom of the road, the men tried to amuse me in every way they could, the easiest to think of being to tell me to get down on all fours on the ground and crawl forward, and then shove a long wooden stick up my anus. Once I even rode a man up a mountain on my back like this. A crueler idea might have been to pick a large rock and tie it to a wooden sign hanging around my neck, dropping my head all the way down to my chest.

While passing through a cottage, someone found two brass bells for the cows and tied them to the tails of the bamboo sticks that were always stuck right in the center of my nipples. Later my owner liked the idea, which probably brought back memories of his childhood days of cattle herding, and he played with it a little more in my case.

At any moment someone would call me to the side of the road to stop and suck his cock, because I was already covered in bruises and filth, and probably the only time someone would play with my pussy and ass was after telling me to wash my body while wading through the creek. Usually, when everyone was lounging in the shade and no one was still interested in me, Chang would ask someone to cut a piece of a rough branch and hand it to me, leaving me alone on my knees in the sun to torture my cunt in and out.

I was walking like a sleepwalker, with a fag stick probably sticking out of my pussy or anus. A new village surrounded by bamboos appeared on the hillside ahead, and I was finally able to stop my aching, weak legs, only to be followed by a long and furious sexual slavery and beating that I didn’t know whether to rejoice in or fear.

One day of walking, two days of fighting, and another day of walking. The bodyguards who escorted me had rotated four times, and every Friday a car came to pick them up for the weekend, leaving four or five new people behind. I was the only one who spent a whole month naked in the sun and rain in the middle of a deserted village, like a scaly female animal.

The first month of my naked travels ended like this: Achang, who had come back, made me take a bath to keep him company, still thinking about the way I looked at the beginning of the month, and still thinking of ways to make fun of me, when in fact I was already about to collapse. He laid down on the grass and asked me to straddle him, ordering me not to stop or get him out.

But after a cigarette, I really can’t lift my butt, I sat on his waist with tears in my eyes and gasped for breath, but he thought I was deliberately trying to make things difficult for him, so he cursed and flipped me to the ground, and had my feet pressed down tightly, and he drew out a dagger and slashed almost a centimeter deep into the palms of my feet, and horizontally slashed five times in a row, and then smoked my buttocks and forced me to walk forward. I struggled to stand up and walked another two to three hundred meters before I fell headfirst to the ground, kicking and hitting them however they wanted but I couldn’t move.

My master took me back to his villa in his car, and again Dr. Wong treated my wounds, picking out strands of broken bamboo wire from my red, swollen, festering body.

This time I was allowed to nurse for twenty days, and then I was escorted around the mountains as I was for the next month, until I had traveled the last little village in this frontier district, and I was finally pulled back by the car again on my last legs.

It was the fourth month since I was abducted to my master’s house, and my master had completely destroyed my spirit and body in this way. It was then that I began to think, in a trance, that I might have been a slave in M’s country from birth, and that my distant and hazy memories of life on the other side of the border might have been only a remnant of my dreams. At least I was now, and always would be, my master’s slave girl, and I was supposed to obey whatever he did to me. The fact that he wanted me to be naked all day, raped all night, and abused in shackles for all eternity was a sure sign that it was my destiny to be so.

As for my flesh, I’m afraid it will never again have anything to do with being smooth and supple, and the scars that have already healed are tangled together, some rising high above the surface of my skin, others sinking deeper and closing in to form a pit, like the roots of an old tree that has had the soil washed away by the rain, and on top of which new wounds overflowing with blood and bodily fluids blossom and open every day. I’ll never have green fingertips again either; my plucked nails have barely grown some thick, black, hard cuticle, and the tops of my fingers are wrapped into a rounded, smooth mass.

I lived in my master’s villa for some time, and when he was at home as a maid serving him tea, I was required to be at his side at all times, and when he sat down wherever he went to refresh himself and drink his tea, I had to kneel squarely on the ground beside him, and if he took a long nap under the cool umbrellas in the backyard then I had to remain motionless on my knees for the rest of the afternoon.

To be my master’s slave girl there are many rules that must be strictly observed. The first one, two and three are what anyone would expect, that is, I must obey the orders of everyone in the house, I am not allowed to defend myself when I am scolded, I am not allowed to cry out in pain when I am beaten, and so on, and it is also stipulated that when my master speaks to me I must say, “Yes, master,” in full, and to others I must say, “Yes, Uncle Chang! “Yes, Master,” and to others, “Yes, Uncle Chang” and “Yes, Auntie Kono,” and so on.

The legal punishment for me was ten lashes every morning when I got up, and ten more at night before I went to bed, and I had to report the number of these two lashes out loud.

Another humiliating punishment was to kneel outside the gate of the villa’s courtyard after dinner and stab myself in the pussy with a wooden stick, with the stipulation that I had to do it a hundred times and count out loud. The wooden “My Husband” has been with me ever since. After stabbing myself, I have to go to the bungalow on the side of the villa where the bodyguards live and kneel down in front of the door, saying loudly: “I beg my uncles to come and fuck the slave girl.” If no one says yes, I have to say it three times.

Since there were only a dozen or so of them in all, Achang and Xiao Xu, and not every one of them was interested in raping me every night, my master thought that this would not be enough for me. So after Achang and the others were done, someone would accompany me to the soldiers’ quarters below, and of the fifty or so men there, usually one-third would come and do it with me once a day, and it would always take until after twelve o’clock in the middle of the night to get it all over with.

My master is a strict man, the bodyguard who follows me will count the number of times for me, if any day on both sides of the play with me less than twenty men combined, the next day is not to give me food. One time Xiao Xu who brought me in harmed me by deliberately underreporting the number of men, so that I was penalized for three days of consecutive meals, so hungry that I was lying on the ground begging them to come and fuck me one by one, and in the end, I had to cry and beg Uncle Xiao Xu to count them in.

The prescribed sleeping place for me during that time was under the corner of the wall outside the courtyard gate of my master’s villa, in the open air. “Why else would I call you a bitch?” After bringing me back from camp in the middle of the night, I was chained to the wall with a collar placed around my neck, no matter how strong the wind or rainstorm was that day.

If the bouncers that day had let the chains down long enough for me to lie down on the dirt floor, I would have had to thank the God who still cared for me with all my heart. At their pleasure, they could have made me kneel facing the wall and shortened the chains until my face hole was pressed against the bricks of the wall, and I would have had to kneel like that all night.

At that time there was no daughter, and I was kept under very strict guard. In order to prevent me from having the opportunity to kill myself, at night, whether they made me lie down or kneel, they handcuffed the back of my hands behind my back, so that I could do nothing.

At five o’clock the next morning, the bodyguard on watch would wake me up with a whip, and throughout the early morning I was given the job of cleaning the entire yard around the villa, and the other thing I couldn’t sloppily do was to carefully wash myself before my master got up.

Honestly, my master carries me around merely so he can vent his depression and anger whenever he wants.

At that time his brother was still imprisoned on that side of the border, his fate uncertain, and there were conflicting news and rumors everywhere. I can say that every cigar he smoked during the day ended up being snuffed out on me, and it was not uncommon for him to take hot tea from me and splash it on my chest as soon as he lifted his hand.

It was during those times that my fear of him, which seeped deep into the marrow of my bones, developed. My master would lash out without warning in a second, more than a dozen times in a day, and each time had to end in physical pain for me. No girl’s nerves could long endure the ravages of his sudden outbursts of rage over matters that had nothing at all to do with me, and then he would call someone in and whip me non-stop for hours right there in the living room.

It was the fifth month of my pregnancy, and my belly began to protrude noticeably. Another change was that my small breasts began to prepare for breastfeeding, and they gradually became fuller and heavier, like green fruits ripening. But my health was deteriorating, I was sick with a constant fever, and when I opened my eyes every day, the only thing I felt was exhaustion.

I think my master hesitated those days, contemplating just torturing me to death, so I was beaten very hard for a few days. I was already bruised and he still wanted me to follow him every inch of the way, then slapped me and kicked my ass, stomach and pussy almost non-stop. For three days in a row I was hung by my wrists against the wall for the night, as instructed by my master, and under those circumstances I struggled to get up in the morning to survive the two daylight hours. On the third day, when I was untied, I was as limp as mud, so my master ordered me to be hung back up again and told Bamo and the others to beat me hard on my belly with a thin bamboo pole.

I didn’t feel any pain after the beating, just a burst of heart, but all the blood came out of my mouth. I thought this was the end of me, I really didn’t feel scared, even a little grateful to my master, and I didn’t think about Dai Tao and dad.

I was disappointed when I opened my eyes and realized that I was still alive, and that I hadn’t miscarried either, and that my master hadn’t let them go all the way. Phila happened to be at the owner’s cottage that day, and he persuaded the owner: “Let’s wait until she’s a bit bigger to kill her, so we can pull the pups out of her belly and stuff them into her own mouth.”

Phila had a cart, but he rode back to Razen and found a chain to fasten one end to my collar and the other to his saddle. With two hands on my big belly, I stumbled along with his horse for twenty miles up the mountain before I passed out, and they hitched me to the horse for the rest of the way.

Lajin is not like Moyan, which has only a hundred or so inhabitants, and where you meet with such acquaintances morning and night. Lajin is at least the center of a district, where there are stores, schools, hostels run by residents in their own homes, a private doctor’s clinic, and even a video hall. And I’ve been living here for more than a year, naked and chained, back and forth.

To the brown-skinned locals, I’m just a WAGONG murderess who was captured by their amazing defenders and deserves to be held and beaten around the streets like that all day. As for the District Governor’s soldiers not letting her wear clothes, well she’s just as well naked, they just find it amusing and then they get used to it.

As for myself, I had learned to accept whatever fell upon me as my master’s, that is, destiny, and faced all the humiliation and torment with almost a sense of not caring about anything. And if we don’t take feelings into account and just take things as they are, by now, probably three quarters of the men in this entire area have not only seen me naked, but have also seen me with my thighs spread wide open and pinned down by a man, not to mention that maybe half of them have been inside me deep inside themselves, so it seems like there is no reason at all that I need to cover myself up.

As I said, in the first year before the birth of my daughter, my master kept a close watch over me, fearing that I might escape his punishment by committing suicide, and I was always followed by guards. The few foreign travelers who came to Ar-Rajun at that time would have been startled to see me, but they would have thought: in such a haunted place, perhaps this is the way to beat robbers, prostitutes, and even wives! The following year, if they saw a naked girl with heavy chains wrapped around her neck and feet on the central road of Rakjin, and a few local women walking past in a low voice and laughing, they would really be dumbfounded.

By the time the second year rolled around, with my daughter as a hostage, my hosts had allowed me to go on my own, and I would have a little less interaction with the town’s simple residents.

On my first day in Lajin, Phila locked me into his own suite in the small district office building and raped me four times in a row on the tiled floor of the large bathroom, using me in different places, not realizing that he had so much strength for a long, thin man. He gasped and said that fucking a pregnant woman was a particular turn-on for him.

The last time he made me lie on my back, he lay on my already slightly bulging belly and pressed and shook me, and did it for an extraordinarily long time. After I had finished cumming, he smiled and asked me to get up and tango with him, I couldn’t hold myself up any longer, so I begged him to let me lie on my back for a little while longer, so he dragged me over to the sink, yanked me up by my hair and pulled me up to shove my head under the hose, and tied the collar and hose together with a rope from the back of my neck. He then tied my hands behind my back and unscrewed the shower head of the water heater and inserted the hose into my anus, deep.

He laughed and said I’d be swing dancing as soon as he twisted the switch. I cried with my face to the sink and begged him to let go of me as he smoked a cigarette and listened, asking me to sing him old Teresa songs in there. “No more, can’t think of anything else?” Without it he turned on the hot water and I was so scalded that I jumped off the floor with both feet. He sat on the edge of the tub turning it on and off to amuse me, and I jumped and bounced like a motorized toy.

He asked me, “What should I beg?” I shouted, “Ask Uncle Firat to fuck the slave girl’s asshole! A hot asshole… a soft… a hot… asshole!” It was like selling meat buns.

He didn’t untie my neck, he picked me up from behind and poked me in the anus. Anyway, the lower half of my stomach was on fire, so I didn’t feel much as he went in and out. But this time he seemed to have gone soft at the end without ejaculating, and he chained me up in the bathroom, telling me to kneel upright by the toilet when I heard his footsteps, with my head up and my mouth open, to make myself look like a male urinal, and to prepare myself for the possibility that he might come in to relieve himself.

Of course, his week’s worth of piss was in my stomach. After drinking the piss, he said, “Little bitch, wash up.” He put the water heater hose in my mouth and scalded my mouth with seventy to eighty degrees of hot water.

After washing for a while, he said, “Little bitch, it still smells a little bad, do you know what’s wrong?”

I slowly moved my knees to the sides, leaving the center wide open: “Master Fira, it’s the slave girl’s stink, please give the slave girl a hot bath too!”

A week later, he finally let me out to officially start working.

My official job at Razin, of course, is to use myself to satisfy the brethren stationed here as best I can.

The first month was very confusing and scary, I was chained by the neck in an empty room where anyone could walk in at any time and do anything to me. There was nothing in the room, I lay naked on the concrete floor, and when I realized that there was no longer a man’s organ twitching in my body, I crawled into a corner and let myself get lost for a while until the next man kicked me awake. By the end of the day, I was covered in their excreted bodily fluids all over the floor, plus there was a ton of toilet paper thrown around.

While the daily morning and evening whippings could not be spared, my daily masturbation was slightly different. After dinner I was taken out of the barracks and walked all the way to the side of the highway to kneel down and then masturbate to the crowd. The first few days there was a real crowd of spectators, even women, staring together in awe at my hands and pussy, looking at them even with their mouths hanging open. But after four months of me stabbing there every night in the waxing real, no one cared at all after that. As I’ll get to shortly, the people who lived in Lajin didn’t even have to wait to see my naked body.

Following Phila along, Lajin Achang carried a leather whip and sneered as he walked up to me, “Little bitch, how many men have you been fucked by today?” He asked slowly.

I bowed my head deeply, my entire face almost completely hidden in my loose black hair, and I said in a small but still clear voice, “Female slaves have been fucked by thirty-four men today, Uncle Acchan.” After a long period of training, my answer met the requirements.

“Where do they fuck little bitches?”

“They fuck slave girls , Uncle Achang.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I received a whip on my chest.

“Louder!”

“Yes, Uncle Chang. They fuck slave girls!” I repeated out loud.

“Just fuck the little bitch’s ass?”

“And the slave girl’s mouth and asshole, Uncle Acchan.”

This whip on my lower thighs, “Why do not you say together, but I have to ask?” He showed a little cruel expression: “How do they fuck?”

I was momentarily stunned and had to reply, “They fuck in and out.”

This bad guy still won’t let me go: “How many times did they go in and out?”

The people watching were laughing, and with a quick change of heart, I said, “They fucked the slave girl in and out over 2,000 times!”

Now it was his turn to be dumbfounded, and he couldn’t say I was wrong anyway. But the whip was always in his hand, and he turned the whip around in his hand, and put the end of the pole up to my mouth: “Make a show of it with this, how do you fuck your mouth?”

I lifted my face, which had lost much of its expression, “Yes, Uncle Acchan.” I agreed flatly, taking the whipstick into my mouth and sucking on it.

Achan stepped forward and gripped my hair with his other hand full while this hand used its strength to make the whipstick spin around in my mouth. I felt large drops of liquid trickle down the corners of my mouth onto my chest, filling my mouth with the salty taste of blood.

“Alright, let’s get started!”

My stomach ached a little as I stroked it, then moved my knees scraping the ground to the sides. Holding the stick in my right hand, I brought my left hand up between the roots of my thighs to rub my entire genitals. I didn’t need to get it for long, and to be honest, my pussy would rarely be dry in a waxing real barracks. I quickly shook the wooden stick from side to side to get it in, and it hurt every time, because the dozens of men who were there every day wouldn’t stop until I had some blood on my hands.

The surrounding crowd stirred, and someone said, “I can’t see clearly!”

“Make her lie down toward the sky!” They said.

I held my vagina up and got up and lay down towards the back, and one of the soldiers put a bale of straw under my ass, and I cooperated by spreading both my legs a little wider again so that everyone could get a good view.

Then I grunted and moaned and counted clearly, “1, 2, 3…” until I had my orgasm. Most of the time I didn’t have an orgasm at all, but I had to pretend that I did, making myself move more and more intensely, driving the tender flaps and folds of thin skin inside and out of my vagina into a frenzy. They loved it, or else Chang wouldn’t have let me stop, even after a hundred stabs. After a couple months of doing this at Mo Yan, I was able to perform like the real thing.

Around the time of counting to seventy or eighty, I began to turn violently sideways to both sides, using the palms of my feet and my shoulders to support my whole body off the ground facing upwards, falling back and supporting it again, to do this five or six times, while shouting loudly in joy. Next, raise both legs to the top of the stomach, stomp out to the top of the back, at the same time, close your eyes tightly to twist up the muscles of the face, open your mouth wide, at this time in the crotch of the two hands to cooperate with the stick in the vagina to the end. Once Achang is to pick this opportunity to my hands and then gently added a foot, the pain from the ground straight up, tightly covering the small stomach in place jumped a few circles.

When I was finished I lay still on the ground, my vagina had been rubbed to such an extent that even without moving my emotions a lot of mucus would flow out in a purely physiological manner. Achan would tell the onlookers to come up and play with me as they pleased, but this was a small town, unlike those remote villages, and no one ever had the guts to strip themselves naked and perform a rape game in front of their neighbors. Later the soldiers found a couple of bums and probably gave them two packs of cigarettes to do it with me in public a couple times.

One morning when Phila came to the barracks, a large group of men crowded around me and were experimenting with me in an interesting way: first I was mounted on a man, whose penis was of course already inside me, and then two other men pressed down heavily on my shoulders. After that was the most important step, the others took out the rifles and put them in the fire, carefully burning my ass and stomach one by one. With each stroke, I screamed and jumped upward, and the two men above me pressed me back downward with increasing frequency. This is how I screamed and jumped, the irregular twisting and grinding making the man inside me happy, until he ejaculated, then another man lay down below.

Already tried one squad of twenty, now just starting to press me towards the second squad of soldiers. You can imagine what my body has been burned to, luckily the stabbing strip of the gun is so thin that the burns don’t hurt the deeper skin too badly.

Fira doesn’t like this messy scene, remember this is a military camp and this arm of my master’s has the strongest fighting force in the area, you can’t have fifty or so soldiers constantly circling a lousy woman twenty-four hours a day. Even if they were that strong, that would be too unlike an army, and like on my master’s side in Moyan, there must be a time limit for the soldiers to play with women.

Phila had me make him a cup of tea and lit a Marlboro to think. He looked at me kneeling silently in front of him and thought, if I was only allowed to use my body in the afternoons by the soldiers in the camp, and then in the evenings I was allowed to keep a couple of officers company and do odd jobs or whatever, wouldn’t it be too much of a bargain to keep me idle every morning?

He certainly could have had me sweeping and doing the laundry or whatever for the barracks plus his side of the district office, and that would have been enough to keep me busy for half the day. What he was thinking was that these things were too easy for me and not interesting enough.

When the cigarette reached the end, Phyla bent down a bit and shoved the flaming butt into my pussy, I didn’t dare to hide, and I grunted as I bit my lips. I grunted as I bit my lip. Phila could find the right spot without looking, and by the end of the day, I was struggling to get all five butts out of my pussy.

He bent down and was face to face with me, so close that he almost touched my eyelashes. He suddenly stopped there and froze, coming up to kiss my lips: “Ah Qing, your face is really beautiful.”

I was beaten up by them, but they kept this face for me, the most they did was to slap me with their hands, which was mostly taken care of by the master. I know that my face is not beautiful, I am the so-called phoenix eyes with the tips of the eyes hanging upwards, my cheekbones are a bit high, thin lips, and my eyebrows and eyes are put together in a way that can just be called clean! Not long after arriving in M, I knew that the locals were obsessed with my bare torso, which could be seen from their eyes staring at my body, touching my flesh stimulated them to shiver.

The local women are short and sturdy, their skin is black and red, and their legs are short, so I’m nearly one meter seven and I’m half a head taller than all of them. The master’s personal bodyguards, such as Achang, they have traveled extensively and seen the world, but the other local soldiers recruited, probably in their lives have never seen a few like me such a tall, big, delicate and clean girl, not to mention she was stripped naked and thrown at the bottom of their own feet, just how you want to play.

My master wasn’t wrong last time, when they did fetishize my white ass.

I mean another class to them: car and building, delicate hands and feet, both well-educated, and never have to worry about life. This is what they have never had, and I am afraid they will never have, and what they can’t have, they want to destroy, that’s how people are. Destroying and destroying women like me gives them a rare sense of pride, and the opportunity to personally turn a proud and beautiful princess into a shameless and dirty little bitch, everyone will feel that fate is not always so unfair.

Phila himself was well read; he knew how the soldiers felt, as well as mine, and he knew what should be done to aggravate my sufferings.

Achang, who was sitting with Phila, suggested that I be sent to the jade mine in Raktik: “Let her go under the sun and carry stones on her bare ass.”

“Count on it, she’ll only live a month at most that way.”

This created new regulations. For the soldiers, who had to wait until the afternoon each day to receive my services, I worked for them until the end of the day when they all went to bed at ten o’clock at night. The first day went to the room of the first squad, the second to the second, and the third to the third. Just these three squads, twenty men in each squad, and start again from the beginning after one turn.

I was left with a much tougher work schedule, and the sky was only just a little whiter when the soldier with the whip led me out early in the morning. The two of us walked all the way out of the edge of town and up a narrow red clay path to the Monmi Mountains behind the town of Razin.

In Lazhen town backed by the mountain half of the Montmérillon, subtropical green shade hidden in a circle of bright yellow brick wall, here is a Buddhist monastery. this part of the country of M does not accept Buddhism, this is called the temple of Minghui completely my master for a kind of return of wishes to the reasons for the construction of the temple, and also only in his supply to be able to exist. I guess there are quite a few monks in the temple who came from the other side of the border.

I snapped at the red-painted door of the Minghui Temple, and the master who answered the door, Master Yizhi, just folded his hands in front of me, a naked and pregnant woman, as he did every day for the next four months. I went straight around to the main hall behind the fasting room, the other monks have not yet risen, only a few nameless birds in the branches of the tree chirping. A row of three large water tanks with a large wooden bucket thrown in front of the fasting room.

In several places such as the district office and the school in Razen a machine well is drilled for water, and the fires are burned with gas brought back by the owner from more than a hundred kilometers away. But for whatever reason, the monastery halfway up the mountain is in a complete state of ordinary mountain people’s lives, and all the necessities of life have always been taken care of by the monks on their own and alone, for example, by picking up the drinking water for the ten or so of them every day from the small river on the edge of the town of Razen.

That’s the job I’ll be doing from today.

With six months of pregnancy, I couldn’t even bend down, but Phila, the villain, wanted me to carry the water, and the M women carried it differently than they did at home, by tying a rope around the side of the basket or pail, and then holding the weight of the basket or pail with their foreheads on the rope. I don’t know how to do it either way, and I’d only seen working women carrying water on TV before I came to M. I carefully squatted against the barrel, but I didn’t know how to do it. I carefully squatted down against the barrel, strangled the thick hemp rope on the barrel on my forehead, and stood on my bare legs and feet as if in a horse stance, one, two, three! My waist and legs worked together to make myself stand up with the vat. The soldier sent by the team to watch me stood in front of me and grinned, probably because he thought my posture was quite lewd!

During the first few days, the bucket often slid to one side when I stood up, and the rope fell off my head. The soldier lifted his hand and gave me two lashes, one on my chest and the other on my stomach: “Look at how stupid you are, quick!”

It was as simple as that, I was whipped when I made a mistake, and I was whipped when I moved slowly. People under the whip can quickly learn a lot of things, a large bucket full of water on my bare back, in a few days my pampered back by the rough wooden bucket worn like a rag, but I gritted my teeth and stood up, so I still do not think I’m not fast enough, “snap” on my buttocks.

My bare right foot came out from under my big belly and hesitantly materialized on a large outcropping of rock, and I stared at her as she contracted her five toes to gouge the ground, thin tendons protruding. I sank my weight onto this foot to stabilize it, gathered the other foot behind me and stepped forward, so this time it was my turn for my skinny left foot to appear in my field of vision, groping for support on the rock. It was that heavy, one step, then the next.

If it is my turn to guard the soldier is not too polite, he will be in the back with a whip pole barrel my buttocks eye, he stabbed me had to twist to avoid him, the water spilled out just to give him as a reason, and then use the whip to beat me severely. At that time it is best to have a tree next to me, I will hold the trunk of the tree with him how to beat can not let go, or be pumped on a dozen times will be painful to soft to the ground, the back of the whole bucket of water spilled all over the place, it would be white to carry so much of the road.

I soon learned that the three large water tanks at Minghui Temple required me to carry back six buckets of water to fill them. Many days later I realized that although this was one of the most tiring tasks of my day, there was something worthwhile about it, especially when I carried the empty buckets out of the temple, with the smell of the forest filling the mountains early in the morning, and the breeze sweeping over my naked body, my hair floating around, fresh and clean. I walked all the way into the creek to fill a large wooden bucket with water, my bare feet rubbing the rounded pebbles at the bottom of the creek bed, and the was very comfortable. The cold water swirls happily around my calves, and sometimes a tiny fish skims past and I tease it with my toes.

Of course this wasn’t sitting on the little pure wool cushions spread out on the sandalwood floors of my house, lazily trimming my own toenails for fun, and I wasn’t thinking about lazing around for a while longer before I went to get my hair done in that Japanese car. What I was thinking about was getting some brains to seduce this brother who was guarding me today into cumming in my mouth or pussy once after I had lifted the bucket to shore. In my experience over the past few months, men who have physically vented are likely to be a little lighter when it comes to hitting a woman with their hands.

I was subjected to 30 or 40 fucks a day during those months, and this one in the morning was considered to be the one I seriously did for a man. If I had accumulated any experience from being played with by men up to this point, I used it all up here. As long as the guard isn’t too bad, he’ll always show me some favor and allow me to sit on the grass for a while after I’ve done it. The grass was wet, and iridescent dewdrops were glittering everywhere.

It was about eight o’clock when I filled the tanks, and I had already made fourteen trips back and forth across the mountains. Bring me back to the barracks to find the old soldiers cooking old Ding, this time to give me an additional pair of handcuffs, and to the back of the handcuffs to the back. I put the handcuffs tight hands resting on their own buttocks, back on the back of a bamboo basket, dragging the shackles followed the old Ding through half of the town to the market.

In the market, dirty and tattered raincoat shacks were set up in the east and west, and most of those from the walled village were selling vegetables, tropical fruits and tea. Some townspeople were selling aluminum tubs, rubber shoes and pullovers, and it was obvious that they had been trafficked from across the border.

There were three or two people walking around inside, of course, not like the small east gate of K city, but this was the most lively place in Lazhen. Everyone is busy and happy, living a decent life, but there is an extra me next to me, it’s not very decent to walk in there.

I was naked, my bare feet slipping and sliding on the rotten vegetable skins, my big breasts bobbing up and down, my belly trembling from one side to the other when I took a step, and the messy chains that held me jingled from the front of my body to the back of my feet. I was like a big female donkey led by Old Ding as I moved around in the crowd to keep up with him, with the big bamboo frame on my back, and only donkeys don’t need to wear anything in the market.

Old Ding came here to buy vegetables and prepare the day’s meals for the fifty or so soldiers, and he was talking and laughing with the farmers who grew the vegetables, and I just stood by and stared. A big fly landed on my chest, crawling to one side, then to the other. I couldn’t drive it away with my hands cuffed behind my back, so I lowered my head to look at it. This really wasn’t the boobs of the little schoolgirl from half a year ago, and I realized that even my nipples had become so scary, two big black and wet grapes like that, that I might have been able to squeeze some milk out of them. And then down there, four months, five months, the original six months pregnant women’s stomach is the size of this ah, the network of a brown stretch marks, and even the navel will be turned to the outside.

Old Ding turned around and threw a bundle of vegetable hearts into the basket on top of me, which was more or less embarrassing for everyone, and there were more than half women here. The buyers ducked away pretending that nothing had happened, the sellers couldn’t duck, so they pretended that this big naked girl following behind Old Ding didn’t exist. I, too, had to look away from them and pretend to study the fly and myself closely. But let’s say that fat pig-killing mambo behind me, it can’t be wrong to guess that he’s staring at my bare ass from behind!

It wasn’t quite the same as gathering around to watch me stab my cunt every evening, nor was it the same as being whipped and driven around for public display, when I was a woman tortured and humiliated by the powerful, a captive held hostage by violence. To this day it has been like a war, I could cry, I could hate, I could scream, I was suffering. And now I was not only stripped of all the adornment and dignity a woman can have, but I was thrown naked into everyone’s daily lives. Standing around naked leaves you with nothing but a grotesque sense of absurdity that is both stupid and ironic, and you just couldn’t cry if you wanted to. Phila’s ability to direct the sad script of destroying women into hilarity is truly worthy of a highly-talented student at U of T.

Looking at the cheap plastic utensils piled up at my feet, listening to the high and low laughter in the Croatian language around me, the warm rays of the sun… the peace and tranquility of an ordinary life that was all around me, but which was gone forever and ever, my heart ached like a mussel cracking in the water of shame. I shook my body numbly to ward off the flies, knowing that I had become an animal.

Then, of course, we all greeted the beast with, “WAGONG A-Mei, come and sit down, don’t bother with Old Ding.” This is Mambo, at first I didn’t dare to mess with him, I didn’t dare to mess with anyone, I dutifully went around the pork stall and sat next to him. Veteran Lao Ding was old enough to treat me well, he never hit me.

Mambo was selling pork and talking nonsense to me, saying that he often went to the WA village a few years ago and talked to the WA girls: “WAGONG, you’re much prettier than they are.” His hand had already reached inside my thigh and twisted it: “Look, you’re still as tender as a little girl with a big belly.”

I looked at the pork stand in front of me: there were three knives side by side on it, one bigger than the other. It was then that I realized why I had to be handcuffed behind my back, the marketplace was too chaotic, and people like me had to be carefully guarded.

After I got acquainted with him, I stopped paying attention to him and squatted down next to an M woman who came out from the village to sell bamboo baskets and chatted with her in the stuttering local language. She gave me a small bamboo stool to sit on and helped me unload the baskets: “Wagong, you’re really tall, taller than my husband! But your legs are too thin, it’s hard for you to work.”

When I was ripe, the women liked to gather around and touch my belly: “It’s definitely a son.”

It was during that period that I became familiar with the residents of Lajin, who were crowded together all day long. Nowadays, people don’t hide from me, and the men deliberately come to me, pinching my thighs and stepping on my toes to be honest. If he goes too far, I’ll scream, and the women in the marketplace will scold him together, which is quite fun.

“She can’t move with her hands locked and you’re bullying her?”

“Come over here and touch me and give you a big mouth.”

Anyone who told me in K-Town six months ago that I would one day be standing barefoot and barefoot at the farmer’s market getting my pussy groped by vendors would have gotten a big smack in the mouth from me, too. But here I am, standing here, giggling with the women.

Phila would have liked me like this, and at noon he sat in the district governor’s office stripping off his shoes and socks to take it easy and resting his feet on the chair surface. I knelt to one side and licked him from the center of his foot all the way down to his heel, then sucked his toes one by one.

“Lin Qingqing, remember how you rushed out of the HONGDA car that day? Wearing a small purple flower dress, how proud, how pretty, tsk tsk!” He looked up at the ceiling and said, “No one ever told you that you’d one day be standing barefoot at the farmer’s market getting your pussy groped by the vendors, right?”

At last Old Ding turned back, we should go. The women helped me put the already full bamboo frame on my shoulder: “Come back tomorrow.” Fat Mambo didn’t say come back tomorrow, he winked at me, I smiled at him, my face didn’t turn red at all.

Across my right nipple was a crankpin, and underneath hung a piece of cardboard larger than the palm of my hand, on which was written in marker: “I’m a whore, I sell for 15M dollars a time, and I’m across the street from the school at night.”

That’s it, I hand pin this little sign on every morning before I walk out the front door, anyone can see it, Fat Mambo has come to sleep with me several times.

The school, my master’s Reed High School, put me there to sell because it’s on the edge of town, cleaner at night, can’t have johns coming into the barracks to play with me, Phila thought of that for them. There were two of my master’s cadres living in the high school for a long time, so they had nothing to do at night and were able to manage me as a whore.

Phila rented his house from Gogon, the cripple, across the street from the school. Wooden posts held up a circle of railings a meter above the ground, and there was a wooden floor. It was open to the first floor, very airy, with a ladder to climb up to the second floor.

Gogon was somehow convinced that he was going to be rich, and he was always wandering around the mountains alone, dreaming of finding a gold mine, so he wasn’t even home a few days out of the year.

The rest was simple: every day at ten o’clock the soldiers went to bed with their lights out, and someone, usually a nice old dingo with a bit of freedom of movement, sent me to the Gorgon’s house.

Every day to that time I have been the entire squad of soldiers tossed an afternoon plus a night, honestly, simply not human shape, often have to help the old Ding to get up. Old Ding would say, “Alas, sister, take a bath.” He also called me sister after the townspeople at the market.

When I got there, the two officers took me upstairs and put me in a long chain around my neck, so they could play with me if they felt like it, and when they were done, they went downstairs to drink and talk. I was lying on the floor when I heard Fat Mambo’s voice say, “Hey, guys, want a smoke?” I had to get up and kneel down to the stairway to get my guests.

The bamboo and wooden houses of the inhabitants of the town of Razen stretch out in a scattered pattern along the foot of the Monmi Mountains, with perhaps three or four hundred families. There was a grocery store and a doctor’s clinic, but there were no girls openly engaged in the flesh business. The town is too small and is full of honest farmers. Generally speaking, there are a few houses in the town that accept outsiders to stay with them, and the girls in the houses are willing to charge money to stay with the guests. And then there’s: who’s in love with who, but that’s a different story.

Now that I am the first and only licensed prostitute in Lajin, there are not too many customers, but they do come. Let’s say Fat Mambo, whose home is in Sannozhai, some thirty miles away, sets up a stall in Razen and doesn’t go home every day. Let’s talk about Pong, who comes alone from T to sell cheap electrical appliances by the district office. He has a lover here, but he also comes to see me. Then there are the seasonal workers who come through here to collect poppies up there, and when they get paid they will come up in a big group and keep me busy all night. The locals don’t like them, they can’t find another opportunity.

I made me like this, Phila is very happy: “Ah Qing, M country is too poor, with your body, if you sell in the K city over there can be open to a few hundred dollars!” He said to me: “You must know that in many places, if you can’t get a client to work as a prostitute, you will be beaten.” What he meant was that I would be beaten if I couldn’t get clients.

In the corner of the room sits a Dupont paint can filled with my own hand-pounded morning glory chili peppers, the small, green kind. If I didn’t get my fifth man by one o’clock tonight, I’d have to spend the night handcuffed to the wooden pillars downstairs on my knees, with my vagina stuffed full of the fiery chili sauce. And as the neighbors in Gokong knew, I spent the night screaming at the officers, “Let go of me, wash me, my balls are burning! It’s burning! Please, uncles… grandfathers… fuck me…” Before dawn, I was as hoarse as a crow, but I still had to “ga-ga!”

Screaming, shaking my belly, rubbing my back against the wooden posts, the meat was marinating hot and there was no other way.

So, I was very, very dedicated to each and every one of my customers, and my big belly might be a bit of fun, though not necessarily an advantage, and I used every trick in the book to try to get Pong to like my assholes and lick Mambo’s cock like crazy. I thought they couldn’t get on my belly? I just rode up on them with my big belly, they didn’t move, I moved as hard as I could with seven or eight months of pregnancy. I really hope they can come more often, even more bitter and tired than stuffed with a belly of Chaotian pepper better, right?

“Are you willing to pay five people to stay the night today? Oh, Mambo, that’s very kind of you!”

“Oh… oh…” His fat dick filled my lower body to overflowing, pushing me so hard that it hurt, and he was about to come out: “Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… Oh… oh… ohh… Sister is dying… sister… quick, quick… ohh.”

I sat down on the floor between his legs and stretched out my once proud white feet to tease the soft thing that the porker had shrunk into a small ball. It was a full moon tonight, and the great moonlight shone like silver on my bare feet. My second toes are the longest, as thin as the tips of spring bamboo shoots, and whereas half a year ago they were always shyly clustered together, like unbloomed flowers, they are now spread out like a north wind, and spread wide like a little fan. Anyone who climbed Montmérillon fourteen times a day in bare feet would end up looking like this.

I just rubbed this butcher’s scrotum with them and he shivered down there. My pair of bare feet had been honed for most of the year, and the calluses on the soles of my feet were as thick and rough as the mountain rocks I had to tread on every day, and they didn’t care about the rings of the pair of iron shackles I had on my wrists all day long, and my lean tough legs and arms were strong enough to deal with the jagged blades of those tropical field things in the mountain forests. It was a transformative feeling, and I felt like I had become one with the local indigenous women who carried water and chopped wood and were constantly scolded by their husbands. I should be proud of myself that I can now carry a full bucket of water on my back, drag a full body chain, and walk up the mountain for most of the day.

That’s how I’ve been living in Razen for four months now in a regimented way! I can’t say that I’ve fallen in love with the 20 or 30 dirty, sweaty, smelly men in the barracks every night, but I do need Fat Mambo, and I do need Pong. Walking naked down the main road in the town, I wiggled my ass and jiggled my big breasts so hard: “Come and see, my flesh is whiter than your women, my legs are longer than yours, and I have those two tight, bulging, light brown little doors squeezed between them! When you’ve seen enough, come and open her.”

“… I sell 15M coins a time, I’m across the street from the school at night.” Remember when they smoked me and drove me around to show me off? Now I was afraid that the men wouldn’t come to see me! My eyes were staring at their faces as if I could light them on fire.

Now I’m afraid I’m the one stepping on a man’s shoes with my bare feet in the marketplace, right? Pretending to lose my footing, I send my bare breasts into the man’s arms with an “ouch, ouch, ouch”. With all this, I rarely get smeared with chili sauce anymore, but I keep doing it, I can’t stop.

Mambo climbed up and came towards me, his flabby fat belly half as round as mine, his two little meat sausage like fingers hesitantly turned into my slimy wet vaginal vestibule, “Stick it in, this fat guy will be in soon.” I said to myself. I sat down on the floor next to him and rubbed my own breasts to show him: “Aigoo… Fatty… Oh… Fatty… Wagong’s sister is a very slutty whore! Aigoo… Lin Ching Ching has become a very slutty, slutty bitch.” I murmured, my eyes looking out of the window at the palm grove silhouetted against the big moon, and I smiled as a little tear slowly trickled down my cheek.

At the end of the day was my nine-month pregnant belly, which was bulging way too big. Pregnant women have to walk backwards, as anyone knows, but the bucket on my back made it necessary for me to stoop low, squeezing my belly pitifully in the middle. It probably looked so miserable that the soldiers guarding me stopped hitting me so hard when I occasionally hugged a tree trunk on the side of the road to take a break from carrying water.

In this way, half a month before my due date my master took me back to Moyan in his car, and I gave birth to my daughter in his house. As I mentioned earlier, before that day, Achang and the others plus the brothers from this side of the camp had been raping me endlessly, waiting until my amniotic fluid flowed out and hanging me upside down, on which I struggled until the top of my daughter’s plush head showed through the mouth of my wide-open pussy.

Ignoring my heart-rending screams, I was thrown like a dead man outside the gate of the villa’s courtyard, where everyone gathered around me curiously, as if watching an educational movie. No one helped me, I gave birth to the baby myself, and with my last bit of strength I bit off the umbilical cord connecting me to her.

Had I not come to M, a quiet and capricious girl like me, who grew up in civilization, would never have imagined that I had such a tenacious animal-like vitality.

When I woke up again, I was still lying alone in the weeds, and no, there was my tiny little daughter who was as naked as I was. I cradled her to my chest, and for the first time my womanly breasts were taken by the baby between her cooing little lips. After so much tyrannical prodding, I realized that my full, bulging breasts were still producing white milk, not only from the tips of my nipples, but from all sides of the shattered nipples.