Chapter 4

I also shared her with my Korean business partners. We were in the habit of meeting to split the drug take and talk about the next shipment about once a week. But it wasn't just a business meeting. No, Lee and his dozen relatives had to take their measure of me. Like I said, they were a clannish bunch. So I had to get drunk with them each time. They figure that they don't really know - or trust- a man until they have gotten drunk with him. I had to drink their local stuff, their sojhu, until we all were throwing up drunk. Now I went their hospitality one better, bringing Amanda to our meetings to entertain them. Letting them use her as their whore. They were very appreciative. They'd never had a Western woman before. But it was more than just sexual novelty with them. For them it was a sort of payback. They figured that the American Army had been fucking them for 40 years- taking their land, turning their prettiest women into whores and their men into houseboys. Now was their chance to fuck the American Army- in the long, tall person of Major Amanda Thompson. It was quite a sight.

She couldn't understand a word they said to her, but she understood what they wanted from her. I saw to that with a simple bit of stick and carrot- my quirt and her pipe. I thought it was fitting to dress Amanda like a cheap Korean whore- a tight dress which barely covered the vee of her sex, some cheap jewelry, and a pair of cheap plastic, " fuck me" high heels. Lots of makeup. No need to bother with underwear; I knew that she won't be wearing it long enough to matter. Nor did I bother with keeping her tied up once we inside the house. There was no place to run in that tiny main room. Unlike the soldiers, the Koreans wouldn't share her. They took her one at a time according to a strict family pecking order running from old to young. Lee, the patriarch of the family- the grandfather, I guess, was always first. He must have been in his sixties at least. He could still get it up, but it took a lot of help. As I and the rest of the family watched more or less respectfully, Amanda would have to work to get his withered old cock hard enough to let him cum and get it over with. She would strip for him- awkwardly and with great embarrassment- and play the part of a whore. Just as I ordered, Amanda would stand in front of the old gizzer, caressing and cupping her breasts and moving her hips as she mouthed the usual whore's come on- " You wantee fuckee... I fuckee good...". Sometimes that was enough. Usually, Amanda had to kneel before him and use her hands to get him hard, to handle his withered balls and cock until he was hard. Some nights, she had to suck his shriveled up old cock for 10 or 15 minutes until she could get him hard enough to fuck. Then she would assume the doggy position and guide him inside her. He would pump away at her, gripping her hips and thrusting in with everything he had until he would finally empty himself into her warm, not yet sloppy, cunt. He was a pleasure compared to the young ones. It was like mating with a wolf pack with them. While one of the younger ones fucked, the others watched and shouted what I guess was advice or maybe insults between drinks. The more brutal the way they took Amanda, the more "face" they gained among the others in the family. They were a pretty conventional group, most were big on the missionary position. But they made up in fury what they lacked in imagination. They preferred to take the nude, moaning Amanda on her back, pounding into her with all the strength of their wiry young bodies, not just raping her but literally attacking her sweaty, quivering body with their cocks, trying to beat her into submission with their dicks, to stab her to death with their hard cocks, to impale the Western bitch. But it was her breasts which really fascinated them. They loved to abuse those large mounds of Amanda's, to slap them hard just to see them bounce, to twist her nipples until they were white, to squeeze her breasts like they were kneading dough. All while they were on top of her, fucking the shit out of her, screaming into her face in Korean, their spittle mixing with Amanda's sweat and tears. Her breasts would be sore for days afterwards, as would her cunt.

Like I said, the younger Koreans fell on her like starving wolves- drunken starving wolves. Any one of them would have fucked her to death if I'd let them. But I won't let them go that far. In a strange way I'd become Amanda's protector as well as her tormentor. She had no one else to look to for protection. She no longer had any control over her own body. I had the control! She was mine! So, I kept them from hurting her too much while at the sametime I let them rape her strong, womanly body. But they didn't show me whatever it was I was looking for either. What I was doing to her- the abuse - just wasn't enough any more. I needed to subject Amanda to something more. And I needed something more from her, something more than her silent submission.

I finally found the key to what I had been looking for right under my nose. I'd brought Miss Rhee, the camp whore who Amanda - back when she was still Major Thompson- had run off, back to the club to keep those assholes occupied on nights when I didn't feel like sharing my Major Slut. She didn't have any business those nights I brought Amanda to the club. The men totally ignored her on those nights when they had their Major to use, but she was still there, a petite, short haired woman watching from her regular place at the corner of the bar. She was the only woman there except for Amanda. The club was awash with testosterone on those nights. You could smell it in the stale, smoky air in the club. That rutting horde could have been all over her in a minute, and I won't have helped her... But still she stayed. It didn't take long to figure out why. I could see the excitement in her eyes. And eventually each evening, I would see one of her tiny hands disappear under her short skirt and between her crossed legs as she watched the men roughly rape Amanda's face and asshole, her face frozen in a sneer but her eyes fixed on the Major's suffering body. Even after two or three hours when I would call it quits for the night, Miss Rhee would still be there, watching. By then, I could almost smell her sopping wet cunt from across the room even over the smell of the sperm covering Amanda. From the bar, she would watch me as I counted the pennies lying on the table beside Amanda and those stuck to Amanda's skin by the sweat and the cum, each of them marking a penetration of the Major. The pennies were my way of keeping score. I saved them for Amanda. I kept the pennies- over two hundred of them by now- in a big glass jar by the bed. The pennies had long ago outgrown the bag around Amanda's neck I had used at first. But I still had them where she couldn't avoid seeing them. Boring being left in bondage for hours at a time. So, I allowed Amanda to fill in those empty times by counting the previous night's pennies. I would put the nude Amanda into a hogtie, her hands and feet bound tightly together behind her back, leaving Amanda trapped in a painful U-shape for hours. I would pile the previous night's pennies in a large pile by her face. It was her job to count the pennies- many of which were covered in dried man cum- as she used her lips, teeth, and tongue to move them from my pile to the penny jar on the floor beside her. An incorrect count was, of course, punished severely. I figured this gave Amanda something to think about during those empty times. Miss Rhee wouldn't leave until I finished my count and carried Amanda's unresisting body off to our room- to a long shower and then my turn with her exhausted body. One club night, I called an early halt to the festivities. After I counted the pennies- twenty three incidentally- I picked up Amanda's unresisting, nude, cum soaked body and slung it over my shoulder. I stopped by the door and called Miss Rhee over to me. She came reluctantly, but she came, unable to resist a closer look at the object of her fascination, Amanda's tall, strong, and battered nude body. Miss Rhee was short, like all Koreans, not even coming up to my shoulder and barely reaching Amanda's. Her body was slender but with a bit more heft than Koreans generally have. I figured that she was half American, the daughter of her predecessor as camp whore and some nameless G.I, which tended to make her lower than dog shit to the other Koreans. She couldn't have weighed over a hundred pounds on her best day. Her skin was a little darker and her lips a bit fuller than any Korean I'd seen. Probably had a Black G.I. for the proud daddy. Good looking in a doll like way. Jet black hair, cut in a wedge around her round face. Heavy makeup. Somewhere in her early twenties, she looked about sixteen to an American. Until you looked at the eyes. Then she looked forty. Her English was not very extensive; she'd never needed much more than " You wantee fuckee me?" and " ten dolar". Or maybe she understood English better than I did and only spoke in pidgin English because the G.I's expected it. I didn't know or care. She understood me well enough when I said, " You wantee fuckee Major Slut?"