Rating
Chapter 13 - The English House
"Ludivine, Ludivine," chanted the crowd of sailors toward the small stage.
They were stomping their feet and clapping eager for the performance to begin.
Every seat was taken and men were standing three deep at the back of the room
waiting for Ludivine to dance. The strong shouldered the weaker aside. Fights
threatened to break out and knives were drawn but the commotion stopped and the
crowd grew silent when they heard the slow pounding of the drum. It was the
signal that the one known as the "Red Whore" was about to dance.
It was a hot tropical night in Toliara, a port town on the very bottom tip of
the island of Madagascar. Toliara was where merchant ships re-provisioned and
repaired damages after crossing the stormy Cape of Good Hope. Often ships limped
into Toliara with tales of incredible storms and sailors swept overboard.
Captain's anchored their vessels in Toliara's protected harbor prior to
undertaking passage through the pirate-ridden Madagascar Strait. The city was
nominally under the rule of a local khan but in fact anyone with a gun and a
strong sword arm was the law. It was a den of every form of iniquity and
perversion. Brothels, gaming houses and opium dens lined the waterfront. Most
mornings found a dead sailor laying in the gutter of Front Street. Drunken salts
returning to their ships were waylaid by cutthroats who stole everything leaving
naked bodies for the seagulls to dine on.
The oil lamps surrounding the small stage had been turned up and the lamps
over the audience lowered. Men strained to see the stage as they wet their lips
in anticipation of seeing Ludivine dance. Sailors unashamedly rubbed their
crotch and a few of the drunker patrons had exposed themselves and were slowly
stroking their member.
There won't be a soft cock in the room after her dance thought Betty. There
never is. I just hope a brawl doesn't break out like last time. It had been
several days since Ludivine and Elena had danced.
Betty was seated at a table between the captain and first mate of the Benjamin
Constant; a trader out of Liverpool bound for Cochin with a cargo of English
textiles. Their table was located near the front of the stage. Both sailors had
a hand under Betty's skirt rubbing the soft flesh of her inner thigh. Betty's
legs were spread as wide as possible to give them access to her sex. Captain
Curry slipped a finger into Betty's cunt then pulled it out and held it up to
his nose and sniffed.
"You're clean of the pox. You'll take on the two of us. Edgar and I like to
share, don't we, Edgar?" asked the Captain. Edgar was his sea wife and slept
with the captain when they were on board. When the Benjamin Constant reached
port, their usual practice was to share a woman at one of the local brothels.
Betty had learned much of the life of men at sea during the time she had spent
at the English House. Sodomy was as much the order of the day as raising the
mainsail. Sailors expected to enjoy each other's holes on a long voyage.
"Yes, all at once, any hole and all of them, whatever you want little Betty
will do it," replied a slightly drunken Betty. Betty and the others were
drinking too much. Their harsh difficult life at the English House coupled with
an unending supply or rum was taking its toll on the captives.
Betty's hands were also under the table each slowly stroking a hard cock.
Betty was intent on making her house quota and avoiding a beating by one of the
Bromleys. Betty shuddered when she thought about the collection of sadists that
ran the English House and were collectively driving her to a rum soaked
existence.
Mrs. Susan Bromley, the person who ran English House, was a massive woman with
arms as thick as a man's thighs and thighs the size of a man's waist. Her
husband Paul was a wastrel who spent his time gambling and bothering the girls.
Refuse to climb under the gaming table and suck off Paul and a girl could have
the flesh whipped off her back. But to Betty, the worst of the Bromleys was
their son, Rodney. Rodney was a dim-witted giant who delighted in causing the
girls pain. Rodney was often tasked to administer the daily punishments for
whores that had failed in some respect to satisfy Mrs. Bromley. Hardly a day
went by without one of the captives being whipped senseless for some minor
infraction. The constant scourging was driving Betty to drink.
The Fortress of Karem Bey was a paradise compared to The English House
realized the captives after their first week in Toliara.
The fifteen women along with Oliver and Ernest had been placed on board the
Polaris and sent south. What occasioned their departure was the arrival of some
twenty young officer's wives who had been captured when their ship was
intercepted in the strait. The brutally raped young women had shown up one
morning and Betty and the others were shipped out that afternoon. The newcomers,
many of them recent brides were appalled when they had been informed of what
would be their fate during their stay at the Fortress.
"Do what it takes to survive," advised Ludivine to the newcomers. The pirates
have already defiled you. You have nothing left to lose. What does it matter now
if you have to spread your legs every day for the guards? The guards are easier
than the pirates and not as brutal. Please them and obey the Princess Aziza and
things will not go badly for you."
The discussions between the older group of captives and the new arrivals had
been cut short by the appearance of Princess Aziza. The Princess separated the
two groups and informed Ludivine and the others that they would be leaving.
"You will start earning your keep now. You are being sent to work as whores in
our brothel in Toliara," said Princess Aziza announcing their departure.
Sir Charles had acquired a large courtyard residence in Toliara and had
brought the Bromleys from London to establish a brothel whose real purpose was
to gather intelligence about merchant shipping reaching the port. The Bromleys
had hired a half dozen of the local thugs to watch over the women and make sure
they didn't escape.
Ludivine had discovered that the brothel's rooftop contained a carrier pigeon
coop whose inhabitants couriered the information gathered by the brothel's
inhabitants to Princess Aziza and Sir Charles Danby. As a result, Sir Charles'
pirate fleet captured only poorly armed merchant ships with the most valuable
cargo.
"They say the red headed whore's dance would get a dead man hard," said
Captain Curry giving Betty's thigh a firm grasp while pressing the heel of his
hand against her sex. The brush of his hand against Betty's exposed clit caused
a spark of pleasure to flow from her pussy to her brain. Betty involuntarily
moved her clit so there was firmer contact with the sailor's rope hardened hand.
The first mate had managed to get a hand inside Betty's bodice and was stroking
his callused palm over its surface rubbing her nipple. The rum and the presence
of so much tactile simulation caused Betty to wish her companions would lose
control and take her on the table right then and there.
"That's true, mate," said Betty clanking her tankard of dark ale against the
captain's before taking a drink. "And after you're hard, the three of us can go
upstairs for some fun."
"You can tell she needs a fucking, can't you Edgar?' said the Captain reaching
between Betty's legs to stroke her clitoris.
"She's an eager whore, all right, Captain. Look at the bud on her, sticking
out hard as sapphire," said Edgar pulling Betty's breast out of her bodice.
"Feel this, Edgar, she's a cut whore, like you'd find in China, she's cut off
her pussy lips so her hole is always open and ready."
Betty spread her legs wider so both men could feel her sex.
"See how she opens up, Edgar, feel her cunt, feel it all over," said the
Captain.
"My God, she's got no pussy lips and her button's sticks out like a cock,"
said Edgar his hand passing over Betty's pussy.
"You got to come to the Orient to find a whore who's been cut. No
self-respecting English doxy would allow herself to be disfigured like that. Old
Betty here has been fixed so she's good for nothing but whoring. Right Betty?"
said the Captain.
"Right you are. A whore I am and nothing more. Just say the word and there's
nothing Betty won't do."
My God the slightest touch of a man's hand against my button and I'm ready to
climb up on the table and beg for a fuck thought Betty her body almost trembling
from the feel of the Captain's hand on her clit. That Chinaman has made me into
a wanton slut who craves a man's cock in her holes thought Betty recalling how
her sex had been modified. At times, Betty found herself unconsciously playing
with the cock-like projection that Master Liu's knife had cut out of its
surrounding bed of flesh. It now dangled a good inch from its former hiding
spot. Betty quickly returned her attention to the business at hand.
"I've got you hard already," said Betty laughing as she slowly stroked the
Captain's member. It was Betty's hope that as soon s Ludivine finished her
dance, the two of them would take her upstairs.
It was the first visit of the Benjamin Constant's senior officers to the
brothel that had come to be widely known as "The English House". The English
House got its name from the simple fact that all the brothel girls and boys were
English. Mrs. Bromley made them dress as English ladies. Most of the other
whores working the docks were native girls.
Since most of the ships that docked at Toliara were from the British Isles,
the brothel had a special appeal to English sailors who'd left port two months
ago. The touts and pimps that scoured the docks for Mrs. Bromley claimed that
not only were all the women English but that some were ladies of quality who had
been captured by corsairs, trained in the art of exotic sexual rights by an
Indian and then forced into prostitution. This partially correct claim along
with the excitement brought about when Ludivine danced enhanced the brothel's
reputation and made it the preferred destination for ship's officers interested
in a night's diversion while their ship was replenished.
"How'd you like to fuck an Earl's daughter or a Duchess's little darling," was
how the pimps stated it when they worked the bars and dives frequented by the
ships' officers. "What better chance had an officer of a merchantman to enjoy
the favor's of a lord's daughter other than to appear at The English House, pick
out a pretty miss and take her upstairs to enjoy as was his want."
In her three months at the English House, Betty had learned every possible way
to quickly separate a sailor from his coinage so she could return downstairs for
more customers. If the small leather purse fastened around each whore's neck did
not contain enough coins the next morning when Mrs. Bromley came around to
collect, a whipping was in order. Betty along with the others had received her
fair share of punishment.
The whores were also tasked to question the officers and find out their cargo
and sailing plans. These too had to be remembered and reported the next day or a
vicious beating ensued.
Sometimes, old Mr. Bromley did the whippings but as of late, Rodney had been
doing the honors. A large strapping lad of dim wit, Rodney was able to quickly
set a whore to screaming as he brought down the thin swamp reeds that Mrs.
Bromley maintained a large stack of in the building's entry way. All of the
whores and the two boys had been whipped repeatedly.
Rodney had taken a liking to sodomizing Oliver and Ernest after he punished
them. He would first whip their buttocks to a fiery red then order the boy to
suck his cock before he sodomized him. Everyone was forced to watch punishments
being meted out. If Mrs. Bromley detected one of the whores looking away from a
particularly brutal punishment, the whore was punished next.
Mrs. Bromley had taken a particular dislike to Betty and made a point of
seeing that she was whipped to the point of hysteria for the slightest
infraction.
Each morning after each girl placed her earnings on the wooden bar, Mrs.
Bromley would determine those who as she called it, "failed to respond to Sir
Charles generosity for allowing them to work there". Those girls would be made
to strip naked in front of all the others and grasp the side of a chair while
Rodney applied a reed to their bare bottom and back. Rodney liked to add a few
blows up between the girl's legs so they landed directly on her sex. Often this
sent the poor girl screaming to the floor, rolling about with her hands
clutching her sex.
If the girl released her hold on the chair arms, the punishment was doubled.
If she did it a second time, her hands were bound to the chair arms and the
number of lashes tripled. On a normal day, at least three of the fifteen girls
would find themselves screaming in pain as Rodney brought the highly flexible
reed across their buttocks and back.
After her beating, the girls were required to kneel before Rodney and thank
him for his efforts. Rodney thought it hilariously funny to make the kneeling
girl hold her position while he turned around, separated his cheeks and
delivered a loud fart directly into their face.
For the girl who produced the least income there was the added indignity of
having to suck Rodney's fat cock until it was hard then pretend to be incredibly
passionate and aroused when he forced himself into a girl's vagina or anus,
sometimes both over the course of the punishment. Then the worst performing
whore would be turned over to the none-too-gentle treatment of the guards for
the remainder of the day. Facial bruises, lose teeth, cuts, and even broken
fingers were often the outcome of a day spent in the guard's quarters.
Betty shuddered when she thought about the time through bad luck or ill
timing; she came up last on what had been a busy night. Not only had Rodney
whipped her until she felt she was going out of her mind then fucked her burning
bottom mercilessly but Mrs. Bromley directed her to lie on the floor face up.
Mrs. Bromley hiked up her skirt revealing her broad corpulent dimpled ass then
she straddled Betty's body and lowered her sex onto Betty's face. Betty was
almost overcome by the rank odor of unwashed flesh.
"Lick it, my dear, lick your Mistress's pussy then beg her forgiveness for
being such an unproductive cunt," said Mrs. Bromley.
Betty choked back the strong urge to gag and licked the unwashed sex of the
Madam until Mrs. Bromley all of a sudden lowered herself over Betty's face
cutting off her air supply. Unable to breathe, Betty began to smother. Her heels
beat against the wooden floor. Finally, just as Betty was about to loose
consciousness, Mrs. Bromley relented and raised herself off Betty's nose and
mouth. Almost immediately, Betty felt and smelled a warm vile liquid land on her
face and in her mouth that was still open gasping for air. Betty accepted her
fate and lay still as Mrs. Bromley sprayed her face with urine then farted and
stood up.
"That's what happens to whores who don't produce," said Mrs. Bromley walking
away leaving a sobbing and sodden Betty lying in a puddle of dark yellow piss.
Betty had spent the afternoon in the guard's quarters being sodomised. One of
the thugs was Malay. He had tied her hands to chair arms and made her watch as
he broke the little finger on each of her hands. Betty had no idea why he did
this other than to amuse himself
"We've got to find a way to get out of here," confided Ludivine to Betty one
day when they were eating in the small courtyard.
"I agree but how," said Betty. "I don't know how much longer we can last.
Rodney beat Louise so badly she couldn't walk for two days. A guard cut her
breasts with knife while he fucked her. The poor girl will have scars. The
beatings are getting worse. Even some of the guards are starting to feel sorry
for us.
"We must find a way," whispered Ludivine.
But they were closely watched and never allowed outside the brothel. Depending
on the number of ships in port, the captives could be incredibly busy. Often
times Betty and the others would lose count of the number of sailors who climbed
between their legs.
Oliver and Ernest were beaten if they didn't dressed carefully and
attractively as women. Betty was amazed at how pretty the two boys were when
they came downstairs each evening in the cheap dresses Mrs. Bromley provided.
The two boys were kept busy by seamen who found the idea of boys dressed as
pretty girls irresistible.
Betty's attention returned to the stage as the music changed to the tune that
played whenever Ludivine danced. As the tempo of the drums increased, other
instruments joined in. A long nude leg appeared from behind the curtain curled
around and a sounded a distinctive clang using tiny cymbals located on the
inside of Ludivine's big and second toe.
Although Betty had seen Ludivine dance countless times, she still found it
erotic and wished she was back at the Fortress with her head between Ludivine's
thighs.
"My God she's tall," exclaimed the Captain when Ludivine appeared. Ludivine
was scantily dressed in a dozen veils that she would discard during the course
of her performance. As the tempo of the music increased, Ludivine increased the
pace of her footwork. Often but not tonight, she danced out into the audience.
Dozens of hands reached out to touch her breasts and legs. There was something
hypnotic in the way Ludivine moved. It was beyond mere grace and skill. Ludivine
would work the audience, pushing her beautiful bottom firmly into their laps,
kissing their lips and offering them her breasts to suckle.
But the sheer eroticism of Ludivine's performance sometimes created problems.
Betty wondered whether the occurrence of three nights ago would be repeated.
Ludivine had been gang raped by dozens of sailors. She had almost reached the
end of her dance. There was a tiny veil covering her sex. Her large high breasts
were exposed. Her darkly rouged nipples quivered as she danced up to each sailor
thrusting her breasts or her sex toward his outstretched hands.
That night the brothel was crowded. There was a large party of rough looking
sailors from an Indian Trader bound for Bombay. At the end of Ludivine's dance
when she was almost naked, she had jumped on their tabletop to finish her dance.
The music was reaching a crescendo. Ludivine's body was a blur as she undulated
her sex toward each sailor in the circle around her. As if on command, they had
grabbed her, ripping off the last shred of clothing. They had thrown her
roughly on the table and one of them had immediately mounted her. Mr. Bromley
had done nothing to stop them other than tell her husband to keep track of what
was owed.
Ludivine had responded to the public rape by wrapping her long legs around the
officer whose cock was pounding into her pussy. Someone grabbed her by the hair
and twisted her face into a naked crotch. Ludivine opened her mouth to accept a
hard cock between her lips. Elena ran out to help her sister climbing up on the
table laying back and offering herself to any watching sailor. Lorraine climbed
beneath the table and used her mouth to pleasure a sailor who had not had his
turn with Ludivine. The sailors at Betty's table had forced her to climb up on
the table and strip naked. They jerked her feet out from under her causing her
to land on her back knocking the wind out of her. They'd bent her double bottom
toward the ceiling and entered both her holes at the same time. Several of the
whores had wound up with cuts and bruises that night.
The evening had ended in a wild melee that netted the Bromley's little income
or shipping intelligence. Broken tables and chairs had to be replaced. The next
day, Mrs. Bromley had blamed Ludivine and Elena. She ordered Rodney to beat the
two women into a state of near unconsciousness using a heavy flogger she had
recently acquired. He had whipped them until they vomited and passed out on the
filthy floor. Then she had allowed the guards to take them to their quarters for
the day. Both women had to be carried back to their beds that night.
Ludivine and Elena had been too injured to entertain for several days causing
an even greater loss of income. Mrs. Bromley was in a constant rage over this
unexpected outcome. When she discovered that Ludivine could not dance, she lined
up all the remaining women plus Oliver and Ernest and ordered them to strip.
Rodney delivered twenty lashes of the flogger to each one. Julia had let go of
the chair arm when Rodney's flogger landed on her sex, the force of the blow
almost lifting her off the floor. The fat little duchess-to-be was tied over the
back of the chair and beaten until she was babbling about her mother and father.
"If there are any more failures of decorum, you'll get forty or even sixty
next time," warned the outraged brothel madam.
That night was the first time Ludivine had danced since her beating. She
planned to remain on stage and not venture into the audience. Something Mrs.
Bromley had insisted upon.
After her dance, Ludivine had stood back stage watching Elena dance until she
felt a tap on her shoulder.
"There's a black upstairs in your room. He paid extra. Go to," said Mr.
Bromley.
Although she was still sore from her beating, Ludivine knew she had to comply
or suffer another beating.
When Ludivine reached the small alcove containing the bed where she so often
accepted the semen of customers into her body it was totally dark.
"Hello, who's there?" said Ludivine into the blackness as she dropped the robe
she was wearing on a nearby chair. She sat down on the edge of the dirty bed and
placed her hand on the naked thigh of the man lying there.
"How do you want it," asked Ludivine.
"I want you to be my queen. It is I, Nabu," spoke a voice out of the darkness.
"I'll be anything you want," said Ludivine not understanding the meaning of
Nabu's statement. She recalled Nabu from that day when her father's ship was
attacked. He had been one of the pirates, the huge proud coal black native whose
cock was just as large as he was. She remembered that it was he who had helped
drag the hawser between her legs and he had been the second man to rape her
after Sir Charles. Still, even if it was Nabu, he was a customer and had to be
serviced or she would pay a horrible price. Ludivine's answer was based on the
fact that at times, customers asked for the whores to answer to the names of
wives or sweethearts.
"My father, the King of the Ibo Nation, has died. I have been sent for to take
his place. I have chosen you to come with me as Queen and rule with me for the
good of my people," said Nabu taking her hand in his and kissing it.
"I cannot leave here. The Bromley's would not allow me. They hold me and the
others as prisoners."
"I have brought enough followers with me to free you," said Nabu.
"You must take my sister, brother, and the others," said Ludivine.
"Only your sister and brother, we will leave the others," said Nabu.
"No, we have all been through much together and they are all my people now.
The Ibo deserve a queen that would never leave her people. It is a matter of
honor," said Ludivine placing her face close to Nabu's, almost brushing his
lips.
"You speak of honor in this place."
"In this place most of all," said Ludivine. There was a moment of silence
before Nabu spoke.
"You are right. You will make a worthy queen."
Ludivine reached down and placed her hand on Nabu's cock and stroked it. Her
lips found his and they kissed.
"I promise that if you save us from this horrible place, I will stay with you
and rule by your side," said Ludivine. "That is the promise of a queen."
"Then it is agreed. My followers are hiding nearby. What should be done?"
"First we will make love then we will plan our escape," said Ludivine taking
Nabu's cock in her mouth and passing her tongue over his piss hole.