Beach House from Hell Ch. 06

"NOOO. Oh god. FUCK! OHHHHH. AAAAHHH. Oh my god. Oh-my-god. Oh-my-god-fuck! AHHHH! Oh-fuck-oh-please-please! OH!! PLEASE STOP! It's too much!! OH FUCK!"

When the first orgasm hit her, Kannika felt as if someone was erasing all the thoughts in her brain and branding it with white-hot ecstasy. She convulsed and screamed as the most powerful climax of her life surged through her young body. The men continued their relentless assault. She whimpered and just tried hold on.

Meanwhile, Apinya adjusted her torso to block her younger daughter's view.

"Don't look, Achara." She glanced down sadly at Achara, knowing that although she might block out the awful sight of the girl seeing her older sister brutally raped, there was no way she could close the girl's ears to block out the telltale sounds of sex -- or Kannika's appalling pleasure. Achara's eyes clenched shut. She had seen enough, but a tiny part of her felt mesmerized and wanted to sneak a peek back at the obscene sight of the threesome. Mother and daughter stared at each other now instead, terror plain on both women's faces. Apinya leaned forward, resting her head atop her daughter's.

"It's okay, sweetheart. We just have to stay strong. Just close your eyes, baby. It's going to be okay."

But Achara thought to herself 'No, mother, it's not. It's never going to be okay again,' and the tears glistening in Apinya's eyes gave the lie to the mother's claims of comfort.

*****~~~*****~~~*****

TWO AND A HALF WEEKS LATER...

"Today, Assemblyman Niran of the Thai National Assembly resigned from his position. Referring to 'family and personal reasons', Mr. Niran declined to go into any further details on what prompted his decision, other than to state his 'disillusionment' with politics and that he needed time to be alone with his family. According to recent reports, he and his family have now chosen to relocate abroad. The New Reform Party has already nominated another member to take Mr. Niran's vacant seat. The special election will be held later this month. In other news, at a press conference at the palace, the King--"

Prime Minister Sumate turned off the TV with a grim look. He was standing at the end of a long, perfectly polished mahogany table in a boardroom overlooking much of Bangkok. The man standing on the other side of the table wore sunglasses, a dark suit, and sported a goatee. It was Mishimura.

"Is there no other way?" Sumate said with a sigh. "Niran is a good man. He is one of the Party's rising stars."

Mishimura's eyes narrowed. Master Daisuke was on speaker, his disembodied voice coming through Mishimura's cell phone.

"There is no other way, Prime Minister, and you know it." Daisuke's voice rumbled on. "He poses an unacceptable risk."

Prime Minister Sumate scratched at his five o'clock shadow with dismay. "I could have stonewalled his anti-corruption bills. I had it under control."

"For now, true enough...but for how long?" Daisuke countered. "He was only a few votes short of passing the anti-corruption law despite your behind-the-scenes opposition. No, there is something different about Niran. You and I both know this. He has the charisma and the connections to effect actual change. You might have stonewalled him for the time being, but he was restless -- impatient, and worst of all, zealous to a fault. He would not have been contained. He would have continued his crusade, and it would have brought everything we have built together tumbling down around us. Is that what you want?"

Daisuke's dark tone made the Prime Minister flinch. Sumate thought about all of the girls Daisuke provided him with, all of the campaign contribution money he received from Daisuke too, especially the money the crime boss laundered for him from dozens of shadowy and illicit sources. There was a reason that the New Reform Party of Thailand had coffers brimming with cash and an unstoppable war chest with which to campaign. The truth of it was, the New Reform Party was all about reform...except when it involved the very corruption that had brought it to power...and that would KEEP it in power.

That was a different story.

So the Prime Minister sighed again, this one heavier than the last. He hated to lose a good man, but he hated the alternative even more. Sometimes one had to make sacrifices.

'Forgive me, Niran,' he thought. But now he ventured to open his mouth, licking his lips with a tongue gone dry.

"What...what will happen to Niran? What are you going to do with him and his family?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. Then, just a steel-edged reply.

"That is not for you to know, Prime Minister. The fate of one retired politician and his family are not your concern. Do I make myself CLEAR?"

Prime Minister Sumate wavered. This was wrong. It was one thing to do business with questionable people, with a criminal syndicate, and quite another to let that criminal syndicate make one of your colleagues simply vanish. Yet as frightening and appalling as Master Daisuke's drastic action here was, it didn't make him wrong. Niran HAD been a dire threat to their symbiotic, mutually beneficial arrangement...and didn't the future good of the Party, and of the nation, outweigh the loss of one unfortunate man and his family, no matter how regrettable?

The consummate politician slowly rationalized the betrayal in his mind, nodding slowly.

"Yes, Mr. Daisuke, you are most clear. I will leave matters best left unmentioned...to you."

"Excellent. Mishimura, please show the Prime Minister how much we appreciate his cooperation. Have a nice day." Mishimura swiped off the phone call at his Boss's command. He then strode to the doors, knocking twice. The doors swung open and two gorgeous Thai girls, neither older than 20, stepped into the boardroom. Both were as naked as the day they were born.

Sumate felt his cock jerk upright in his pants, and to his shame he forgot all about Niran's plight.

'I'm sorry, my friend.' Saying a silent, final thought for his former political ally and protégé, the Prime Minister gaped at the two girls sauntering toward him. Boonsri and Hathai were their names. Hathai, the skinnier, darker-skinned girl, knelt down and began to unbuckle the Prime Minister's pants, letting them drop. She pulled down his briefs as his cock flopped into view.

"Oh, such a big cock you have, Sir. I can't wait to feel it in my pussy," she purred seductively, kissing the tip. Meanwhile, her companion, the paler and more curvaceous slave girl named Boonsri, approached him from behind, her arms sliding along his chest, starting to unbutton his shirt. Her breath was hot and sultry along his neck as she whispered in his ear.

"Me too."

The Prime Minister's aging heart began pounding loudly in his chest. He looked down, his cock jerking to its full length as Hathai's tongue did teasing twirls around the tip. She looked up at him with a slave girl's devotion. That cute face sent lust racing through his loins like fire.

"I'll leave you to it, then, Prime Minister," Mishimura murmured. "Enjoy."

Daisuke's loyal associate shut the door to the boardroom as he departed. The Prime Minister's strangled groan of pleasure trailed behind him.

*****~~~*****~~~*****

MEANWHILE, A SHORT TIME LATER, SOMEWHERE ON MASTER DAISUKE'S PRIVATE ISLAND...

The landing strip didn't look like much. Then again, that was partly by design -- not that the prisoner could enjoy the view from the air to even see it. Niran had been cuffed, with a black bag placed over his head, for the duration of the flight -- and who knew how many hours it had been.

Niran had plenty of time, though, to reflect on what had happened.

These past two and a half weeks had been a hellish blur. He had been on his way to what he thought was a pleasant time with his family for a beachside vacation, but something had bothered him. As he had driven along the isolated road, he had thought back to his conversation with Apinya on the phone, and something in her tone just hadn't seemed right. He had been about to call the local police, just to have them send a car to the address Apinya had given him to check things out, when two range rovers had burst from the bushes on either side of the road, boxing him in.

Men with masks and assault rifles had taken him prisoner, blindfolded him. Then he had been given a stark choice over the course of his lone captivity in the days ahead: Make a video-recorded announcement resigning from his position in the Assembly, and following a carefully worded script. At first, he had refused, but the leader of the men holding him, a tall, scar-faced, tattooed, and muscular brute named Akihito, had dangled the ultimate prize in front of him.

"Do this, and I will reunite you with your wife and daughters. Don't do it, and you will NEVER see them again."

So finally, he had capitulated. Now he could only sit, feeling claustrophobic with a dark sack smothering his vision, as the plane landed with several jarring bounces, then gradually came to a halt. Men roughly dragged him off the plane and thrust him into an SUV. An hour passed, and finally he found himself dragged down several flights of stairs, and the black bag over his head abruptly ascended.

He blinked, disoriented, his eyes adjusting to the fluorescent light.

"Welcome to Hell, Niran." He blinked at his captor, Akihito, and the three goons the man had with him. The scar-faced Japanese man had tattoos above both eyebrows, one of a stylized phoenix, the other of a stylized Chinese dragon.

"Come, did I not tell you that you would be reunited with your girls? I keep my promises. This way."

The man in the crumpled suit found himself led down a long corridor with cinderblock walls and concrete floors, which sloped downward even further. At the end of the long corridor, a heavy iron door loomed out of the shadows. Akihito stepped forward and banged his fist loudly on the door, barking some kind of code word. Moments later, the door creaked open, and Akihito's men ushered him through.

But Niran could not have been less ready to see what he was about to witness.

They were in a large rectangular hall which looked like a dungeon converted into a den of hedonism, or vice versa. Chains dangled from the ceiling and barred cell doors lined the far side of the chamber. A dais bisected the length of the spacious room right down the center, and on that dais sat a series of spacious beds, racks complete with sexual and other torture devices, or other instruments best left unnamed.

There were men and women throughout the dungeon chamber. Some lounged on couches, drinking, others cavorted in shadowy corners. But his gaze slid right away to an obscene sight, toward a vaguely familiar figure. Niran saw a beautiful naked Thai girl leaning over, her neck and wrists thrust through what looked like a crude medieval device -- wooden stocks. The wooden apparatus forced the girl bent over, her holes fully exposed, naked and helpless. Behind her a long line of naked men, Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Cambodians, and almost every nationality, stood to await their turn. One man of Nordic stock, his body perfectly muscled, was thrusting into the poor girl from behind, fucking her with wild abandon, his balls slapping against the backs of her thighs as the mighty smacks of their joining bodies rent the air.

An identical line on the other side of the stocks was for men who wanted to use the girl's mouth. The sexy Thai girl's disheveled hair temporarily obscured her face as a Chinese man throat-fucked her roughly from the other side. She made pitiful gurgling sounds as he slammed his cock between her lips, grunting as he fucked her face with no thought to her own well-being.

"UHHH!! Take cum, bitch. Take it all over your face!" the man roared. Pulling out, he spewed all over the girl's forehead, nose, and lips. Clearly, he hadn't been the first to do this. The girl's cute face was already awash in slimy cum. Now, as the man stepped back, fully satisfied, Niran finally caught a glimpse of the girl's face. His eyes locked with hers, and hers with his. Even with the layers of cum distorting her facial features, he knew that face.

It was Kannika, his 19-year-old daughter.

"Daddy!" she screamed, her pitiful voice tearing into him like a mouthful of broken glass, "please save us!" But the next cock filling her mouth cut her plea short, her face obscured by a man's crotch and his jostling testicles. Meanwhile, a Cambodian man stepped up behind her, positioning his shaft before plunging deep into her well-used cunt. Spit-roasted at both ends, the sexy girl could only produce a series of muffled wails and groans as her horrified father tried to absorb what he was seeing.

"What have you done?!" Niran bellowed, outraged. "Let her go!"

His wrists were cuffed in front of him, and now he tried to struggle. But two muscular men shuffled him along toward the other end of the dais.

"Save your energy, Niran. I said I would 'reunite' you with your family, and that's exactly what I'm doing, per my Master's orders. Aren't you curious about your youngest daughter and wife too?"

Niran stammered in disbelief as Akihito's goons dragged him forward until he saw the two largest beds on the dais. Both were king-sized four-post beds, and as the goons dragged him up onto the dais proper, he saw a nightmare unfold before his eyes:

A naked fat man lay back, his arms pillowed behind his head. He had a dark, silver-pocked beard and goatee, a shaved head, piercing midnight eyes, and a bulbous nose. The man called out to him.

"Welcome Niran. I am Master Daisuke, and you are now a 'guest' in my Dungeon of Delights. As you can see, your girls are some of the prime attractions here. Since they are now my property, it is only right that they entertain me...and my many associates. Now, as you can see, your daughter Achara knows how to work my cock with her young pussy. She has become quite the pro."

Niran's jaw dropped as he watched Achara, beautiful, precious, petite 18-year-old Achara, straddling the fat Japanese crime boss's lap, fucking him. Her cunt fully impaled, she pumped back and forth on his cock, her palms flat against his chest as her breasts jiggled in tandem to her impalements. The girl's tiny body straddling his thick bulk looked so obscene. The girl's pussy repeatedly engulfing that thick shaft, humping up and down, was just too much for Niran to bear.

"Let her go, you sick bastard!" Niran tried to struggle free again, and Akihito back-handed him across the face for his trouble. He staggered to his knees. His gaze slid to the bed beside the one where his youngest daughter was fucking. There he saw his poor wife. Apinya was in a similar predicament. She was straddling a muscle-bound Russian brute, her cunt pumping up and down his gleaming shaft in the same exact position as her youngest daughter on the bed beside her. She looked at him sadly, but there was also anger and a sense of betrayal leaking from the expression on her face. 'You did this!' it seemed to say. 'You should have protected us! You failed us!' And, much to Niran's dismay, inside he had to admit it, he HAD failed them. He had gone up against the most corrupt in Thai society without fully appreciating the awful power they might bring to bear...without appreciating the consequences.

His gaze flicked back to the sight of Achara. His cute daughter looked at him sadly. She clenched her hands up on her rapist's chest and slid her cunt half-way up his shaft, only to bring it crashing back down as she fucked him hard, just the way he liked, slapping their bodies together, her cunt lips smacking against his crotch.

"Achara!" he cried out. "I'm going to get you out of here, sweetie. Hang in there!" But he could already taste the emptiness of his vow, just desperate words flung out by a panicked and despairing mind. Worst of all was the way Achara looked at him. She didn't even say anything. She merely acknowledged him sadly, then turned back toward her tormentor, humping the cock of the man who owned her, body and soul.

Master Daisuke groaned, watching the petite teen's breasts sway as she fucked him.

"Your daughter is a well-trained pussy, Niran. She has built up her stamina too. She can fuck like this for hours, can't you sweetie?"

Achara nodded dully, resignation mixed with feigned eagerness. "Yes Master," she chirped. "This slave lives to serve you." Daisuke turned toward Niran just as Niran's eyes bulged with a new realization. As the father's gaze lingered on his daughter's breasts, he realized that they seemed to glint in the light.

"What have you done to her??! You...you've disfigured her!" he shouted in outrage.

Niran had finally noticed the nipple piercings adorning Achara's beautiful tits. Two silver barbell piercings glinted on Achara's chest as she fucked on her Master's lap.

Master Daisuke's eyebrow arched with amusement.

"You call this 'disfiguring'? Fool, I have only enhanced your daughter's beauty. Speaking of which, now that you are here, it is only right that you see me enhance her beauty yet AGAIN." He nodded toward Akihito, who in turn nodded to a swarthy, squat man made of pure muscle.

"Sei, go get the branding iron. Use the English version."

Branding iron? What was he talking about? Niran's mind was still spinning.

"It is customary," Master Daisuke resumed, "for me to brand my slaves to show to all that they are MY property. It enhances their beauty to me while also being quite functional. I have waited until now...because your girls had to earn the right to be given the brand, and because well, to be honest, I wanted you to be here to witness it." A cold smile slid across his face. "It appears that now is the perfect time."

The man named Sei came back with a branding iron, red-hot at the tip. The end of the iron formed the shape of a stylized 'D' for Daisuke. Master Daisuke often branded his slaves with kanji instead, but he liked variety, and sometimes he preferred to use the ornate English lettering instead. Achara looked over her shoulder in terror as Sei approached. The branding iron loomed in his hand.

"Please Master, don't!" Achara cried. Even as she continued to pump her sex up and down his shaft, massaging his cock with her damp heat, her strident pleas echoed through the dungeon.

"Please Master, I've been a good slave! I've tried to learn! Please don't hurt me!!"

"This is just a little flash of pain, slave. Nothing more. This is a great HONOR, little cunt. Accept the honor I offer you or you will make me angry. Do you want to see your father tortured in front of you?"

"N-no Master," Achara said.

"Then do what I say. Prepare your ass for branding."

Yanking hard on the chain leash attached to the girl's collar, Master Daisuke pulled Achara down to his chest. With one hand cradling her head, and the other hand cupping her lower back, he held her flush against him, her smooth ass cheeks presented perfectly for branding. Meanwhile, Achara's tiny hands clutched to her Master, her breathing rapid as her heart thundered in her ribcage.

"Please Sir...please don't," she whimpered as Sei loomed over her, the branding iron descending slowly towards the girl's perfectly sculpted right ass cheek.

"You sick son of a bitch! NO!" Niran roared. He tried to surge to his feet, but hands held him fast, forcing him to just kneel there and watch. He stared, completely helpless, as his daughter, bent over on her rapist's lap, with his cock still embedded in her pussy, awaited to be marked as his property -- as an object rather than a human being.

Master Daisuke meanwhile felt the delicious anticipation as he hugged the girl to his chest. He felt the tantalizing build-up of fear in the sexy girl as Achara anticipated the excruciating pain of the branding iron. Sei lowered it further and further, until it was about to press against the girl's smooth and unblemished skin. Then it pressed right into the girl's ass cheek--