GOLDEN TRIANGLE Copyright reserved 1999 by Verywierd This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Chapter One "Lower! Lower!" yelled Ralph at the pilot of the helicopter, waving his arm as if to thrust the machine downwards. "I want to capture that shot with the sun coming through the trees!" he shouted, slapping on the pilot's helmet. Annoyed, the pilot turned around and shoved Ralph in the chest, causing him to lose his balance and fall over backwards, landing painfully on top of some camera gear. The rest of the passengers sniggered, as Ralph struggled to extricate himself from the tangle of straps and tripods. Grinning, the pilot turned his attention back to flying the chopper. He looked out of the canopy just in time to see that the aircraft had drifted far enough off-course for the leafless stem of an old coconut tree to intersect with the humming disk of the main rotor blades. His scream was drowned out by the tremendous "Whang!" of spinning metal meeting very tough and flexible wood. The entire machine staggered in the air and then began shaking harder and harder like an airborne earthquake. Before the passengers could join the pilot in screaming, the helicopter slammed into the tops of the trees that surrounded the large clearing where Ralph had intended to start filming. The unfortunate occupants were flung about like the washing in an insane tumble dryer, with similar results. The pilot might have been able to reduce the mad spinning by cutting the throttle except that a fragment of the smashed rotor blade had penetrated the cockpit and smashed into his skull like an axeblade. His dying hand locked on the collective sending the machine crashing into the trees at full power. Tropical rainforest is terrifically dense and even the force of the tumbling aircraft was soon absorbed by the endless branches, vines and tree trunks. As the aircraft slammed to a halt, Joanne remembered thinking "Thank god this isn't a Hollywood movie where the plane always explodes dramatically." Then everything went black. Chapter Two Joanne awoke with a bright light shining into her eyes. She also had a splitting headache and numerous aches and pains throughout her body. "These S&M movies are a real bitch." she thought, trying desperately to remember if she had any lines to say at this point. Then she realised that someone was shining a torchlight into her eyes and saying "Can you hear me Miss? Do you feel any dizziness or nausea?" "No, doctor, I feel OK." replied Joanne automatically, trying to sit up. "Doctor?" she thought to herself. Then it all came back to her. The helicopter! That asshole Ralph! They had crashed in the middle of the jungle! Joanne groaned, lying down again. She remembered now. Ralph had approached her and another model with an offer to do some semi-softcore video and calendar work, to be set in the jungle in the famous Golden Triangle. Both the models were to be natural blondes. "Golden Triangles get it?" enthused Ralph. Joanne had hit him with a magazine for the awful pun. Now she wished she had used an axe instead! It turned out that Ralph had managed to get a bunch of free tickets to Thailand and an offer of free accommodation from an old buddy who had settled in that country. "Look, " pleaded Ralph, "it will be a paid holiday for all of us. Three days of video work in the bush and I can sell the shoot to this magazine guy I know. It will be great!" Business had been slow lately and the only other offer of work had been from a porno film maker who wanted to do an animal sex video. She had told him where he could stuff his tame crocodile and had been sitting at home for the past week, broke and bored out of her skull. A paid holiday to the tropics sounded like just the thing and Ralph was even a decent film maker, so Joanne had agreed. She had met Ralph and the other model at the airport. To her surprise, she recognised the other girl. Ruth was a tall busty blond with a very pale complexion, a soft girlish voice and the personality of a small friendly white mouse. The funny thing was that she came across on film as really butch and sexy. The photographers were constantly putting her in leather with whips and things, which always made Joanne laugh when she saw men drooling over the shots in the magazines. Joanne's vision slowly cleared and she got a better look at the torchlight wielding man. It was pretty obvious from his unshaven face and t-shirt that she was not in hospital. From the looks of the crude wooden roof above her, she was not even in a city. Realising that she sounded like a TV cliche, she said "Where am I?" "You are in my home," replied the man in a gentle voice. "Your helicopter crashed in the jungle a few kilometers from here. We happened to be nearby and brought you home." He spoke with a slight accent and his features did not look completely Caucasian. "My name is Paul." Suddenly, Joanne remembered the rest of the crew. "My friends! Where are they? Are they hurt?" she demanded, gripping his wrist fiercely. Paul winced, then replied, "Your pilot is dead. So is the other man, Mr. Ralph er, Crossfield." He was holding up some crumpled passports. "However, the other woman in your group, Miss Harmon, is alive, but badly hurt." "Ruth is hurt? Where is she? I want to see her!" cried Joanne, sitting up. Her head throbbed painfully and there were several spots on her body that felt badly bruised, but there did not seem to be any broken bones or deep wounds. "She is just over there on the other bed." Wobbling slightly, Joanne made her way over to where Ruth lay. She was awake, although she had a large bandage around her head. She smiled wanly at Joanne. "I don't feel so good Jo." she said softly. Joanne sat down on the mattress beside Ruth and took her hand, patting it comfortingly. "You will be just fine. Don't worry, I'll have you in a hospital in no time and then we'll go home." Ruth nodded trustingly and closed her eyes, falling asleep. Joanne carefully rose and went back to Paul. "What's wrong with her?" she asked softly. "Apart from concussion, I think that she may have a ruptured spleen. It's hard to be sure without any equipment and the proper tests." he replied. Looking him up and down, she asked bluntly "How do you know? You don't look like a doctor." Paul shook his head, sadly. "I'm not. Not anymore. I was struck off for malpractice. I used to be a plastic surgeon and a good one. I messed up on a breast implant operation and the patient died." "She died from a boob job?" asked Joanne incredulously. Almost all her friends and fellow models/actresses had had implants, often as a contract requirement. "The breast became infected and had to be removed. She killed herself." said Paul simply, as if he had told this story many times; which he probably had. "And you are living in the middle of the jungle because of that?" "No. I am here because the lady who died was the mistress of an important military officer. He took it upon himself to have me struck off in a more permanent fashion." explained Paul, smiling bitterly. "Oh!" said Joanne, unsure of what to say. "Never mind that, can you take Ruth and me to the nearest town? I want to get her some proper treatment." Paul shook his head again. "I am afraid that I cannot do that Miss. The area we are in now is controlled by a local drug warlord. The military only come here in force when putting on one of their anti-narcotics sweeps. The rest of the time it is a sort of no-man's land. The militia tolerate me because I am a doctor and not fussy whom I treat. If I leave this area the soldiers would shoot me on sight." Joanne stared at him in horror. "OK, never mind that. Lend me your car and I will drive myself there." Paul explained that he did not have a car and that there was no road to drive one on anyway. "Apart from helicopters, the only way in or out of this place is to take a boat down the river." "Then lend me your boat!" cried Joanne in frustration. "There are many branches and turnings in the river that would get you lost or stranded in the shallows. Also, parts of the river have strong rapids or lead to Militia outposts. Unless you know the way, the boat would be smashed or you would be killed by the Militia guards. Only I, or my wife could guide you out." Joanne suddenly remembered that Paul had said "we" earlier. "Yes! Your wife! She could take us out. I will pay you for your help. Ralph's money is in the hotel. I can reward you if you get me there" she said eagerly. "I have already told you that I cannot go out" said Paul heavily. "Then your wife ..." "My wife will not help you" interrupted the ex- doctor, shaking his head. He went on to explain that his wife, Mai, had been sold to a brothel at the age of thirteen. This was not unusual in this area, but Mai had the bad fortune to be sold to a "house" that catered to female sadists. They supplied their clients with young girls and boys whom they could mistreat as they liked. For a hefty fee, of course. Mai had lived and worked in that living hell for five years, during which time she had been subjected to every form of torture that the fertile minds of the clients could devise. Finally, one client had gotten too rough, ignoring the flowing blood as she raped Mai with a steel pipe. The broken girl had been brought to Paul, who had risked travelling down-river on the desperate pleas of the girl's family. He had managed to save her life although she had remained very weak and near to death from the infections caused by the rusty pipe for over a month. He had lied to the brothel keepers, telling them that her sex had been so badly damaged that she could be of no further use to them. After she had recovered, Mai had stayed on with him, clinging to the only kindness that she had ever known. "My wife hates white women. She would never help you" he said, concluding his tale. "She is a good, kind person" said Paul defensively. She helped me bring the two of you here despite her feelings, but she considers her duty done, having done so much." "But Ruth could die! She needs to get proper treatment." exclaimed Joanne in frustration. Paul smiled wryly. "Mai has touching faith in my medical abilities. After all, did I not bring her back from the brink of death?" Glancing over at the sleeping Ruth, Joanne felt tears running down her face, knowing that she was helpless to assist her friend. Chapter Three. Paul had brought them food and drink, then had gone out to see some patients in a nearby village. Ruth was unable to eat very much. Joanne sat in the darkened room, her mind swirling with fantastic and hopeless schemes to get aid. "Joanne?" groaned Ruth. "When are we going home?" she asked in her little girl voice. "Soon, Ruthie, soon." she replied. A sudden determination filled her. "Soon!" she repeated, getting up. Joanne walked down the hall to where she knew that Mai's bedroom was located. She knocked on the door. A young woman's voice replied "Go away! I will not help you." "Please, Mai, listen to me. You must help or my friend will die. I will pay you." she shouted desperately at the door. "I do not want your money, white woman." replied Mai's voice, sounding disgusted. "I will give you something that you do want, Mai!" yelled Joanne. For the longest moment, there was no reply. Then, curiosity seemed to gain the upper hand. "What can you give me that I would want, foreigner?" said Mai's voice, angry. "Revenge." Chapter Four. Mai faced Joanne across the table. "So. You say that you will let me treat you like those rich ladies treated me for so many years." "Yes" confirmed Joanne. "As long as you get us to the town and I am able to take Ruth to hospital, you can do anything that you like." "Maybe you think that Mai is kind and that Mai will not hurt you" said the girl. "Maybe I use this!" she continued, reaching into a drawer under the table and pulling out an object, which she dropped on the table top with a "clank". Looking down, Joanne saw that what Mai had placed on the table was a length of rusty steel pipe. It was about one and a half inches in diameter and its ends were jagged with rust and corrosion. In horror and pity, Joanne realised that this was the implement with which Mai had been tortured on that night before she had been brought to Paul. "Yes, white woman. Mai get fucked with this. Mai strong. Can even fuck with this if customer want to see. But that time, woman too strong, too angry!" Mai made hard, thrusting motions with her hand and arm, like someone thrusting home a bayonet. "Much pain, much blood." Faced with the horrific dildo, Joanne almost gave up. However, that stubborn streak that had gotten her into so much trouble in the past, combined with the sad, pale image of Ruth, refused to let her back down. She picked up the pipe-dildo and handed it back to Mai. "If you help us, I will let you use this on me." Mai took the pipe back, her eyes locked with those of the model. "You strong woman. Maybe we see how strong." Joanne sighed in relief. She knew that she had a deal. Now she only had to carry out her part and survive! Chapter Five. Mai told her that they could only start out in the morning, as navigating the various hazards of the river at night was not possible if they wanted to stay afloat. The thought of Ruth having to wait a whole night and most of the next day before getting help made Joanne want to insist on attempting a night trip anyway, but she realised that the risk of drowning or being shot was even greater than that of a night's delay. She also knew that Mai was waiting for her "payment". Joanne reluctantly agreed to the delay and then asked Mai what she wanted to do in the meantime. She knew that she was taking a terrible risk, as Mai was not a sadist in the sexual sense. Joanne had done a number of "underground" S&M videos and she had a pretty good idea of her own limits and ability to bear pain, but there was a good chance that Mai would get carried away and just beat her to death. "Remember," said Mai as she closed and locked the door to her bedroom "you must make Mai happy. I no tie you up or force you do anything. I say do, you do. If you say 'No', then deal off and your friend die." "I understand" replied Joanne in a carefully respectful tone. "Just tell me what you want." She could feel a trickle of sweat run down the middle of her back as they talked, and she was not sure whether it was due to the heat or her fear. "You take off clothes" ordered Mai, sitting down on an armless chair. This part was no problem for Joanne, for whom undressing in front of strangers was an everyday affair. She unbuckled her belt and let her jeans slide down her thighs. Slipping her feet out of her sneakers, she kicked the whole bundle aside. Then came her blouse, which joined her jeans on the floor. In only her bra, panties and socks, she paused for a moment to let Mai look. From experience, she knew that most men and women found her body attractive to look at, no matter what their sexual orientation. After a few seconds, she unhooked her bra and let it slide down her tanned arms. Finally, she tugged her panties down, pulled off her socks and stood completely naked in front of the watching girl. Mai motioned her to come closer and Joanne complied, stopping within arm's reach. The pale yellow strands of her pubic hair were level with Mai's face. Joanne usually shaved her pussy hair, but had let it grow back for this shoot in order to go along with Ralph's "Golden Triangle" concept. Reaching out with her right hand, Mai ran her fingers through the golden curls. "Open" ordered Mai, slapping at Joanne's thigh. Taking this to mean that she was to spread her legs, Joanne shuffled her feet apart until the gap at the join of her thighs was wide enough for Mai's hand to fit comfortably between them. Expecting the other woman to finger her sex, Joanne tried to relax the muscles of her vagina to allow easier access. "You no move" warned Mai. Taking a firm grip on a bunch of yellow hair, Mai began pulling downwards. She did not jerk hard, but steadily increased the force that she was using, stretching the skin of Joanne's pubis painfully. Slowly, as Mai pulled harder and harder, individual strands were torn from their roots, sending sharp points of pain shooting up into Joanne's groin. Rocking her hand back and forth, she gradually ripped the entire tuft of hair out, leaving a small bare spot. Mai waved the results of her efforts mockingly in front of Joanne's face, then blew them away with a puff of breath. Mai continued her plucking, concentrating her efforts on the hairs that grew lower down, on the plump bulge of Joanne's outer labia. Since Joanne had more than once cleaned up her bikini line by waxing, the slow plucking of her vulva was uncomfortable, but far from being really painful. She bore the sharp pricking pains with only a slight wince as each bunch of curls was ripped out, shifting her hips to assist Mai's searching fingers. Finally, her mound was cleared to Mai's satisfaction and she eyed the reddened skin of Joanne's vulva thoughtfully. Reaching behind her, Mai picked up a bottle of cologne and unscrewed the cap. Pouring a generous amount into her palm, she splashed the astringent liquid over Joanne's pussy, slapping her mound vigorously. Joanne gasped as the alcohol and menthol burned fiercely at the sensitive skin between her legs. This pain was not only sharper, but longer lived, creating a throbbing ache in the whole area. Some of the alcohol made its way between her lower lips to sting the delicate mucous membranes that lined the inside of her pussy. "You like?" asked Mai maliciously, "Just like high class barber in town, eh!". She grinned at Joanne's expression. "Now I give massage. Very good service!" she declared in mock subservience. Joanne suspected that this massage would not be very relaxing and awaited developments suspiciously. She knew that this was only the beginning of what would be a long and painful night. She hoped that she had the stamina and endurance to see it through. Mai resumed her slapping of the model's pussy and upper thighs, painting the pale skin with red finger marks. Her upward slaps jolted Joanne's sex painfully, stinging both the outer skin and the more delicate inner areas. When she had achieved a satisfactory level of redness, Mai began the next stage of her "massage". Taking a firm grip of a fold of skin between finger and thumb, she pinched hard, twisting the crushed skin and flesh from side to side. The edge of her thumbnail cut deep into Joanne's flesh, leaving a dark red crescent when Mai relaxed her grip to move on to another spot. This treatment was acutely painful and Joanne's fists clenched hard, turning her knuckles white as she fought to absorb the punishment without moving. She did not try to hide the effect of the pinches from Mai, as any show of stoicism would only drive the girl to increase the harshness of her punishment earlier. Mai did not miss the model's reaction and decided to add to her humiliation. Pointing at Joanne's clenched hands, she asked innocently "You want to help Mai?" With a sigh, Joanne nodded. "How can I help you?" "Mai want to massage you nice here" she replied, pointing at Joanne's pussy "but you so shy, not show Mai you nice pussy." It did not take a genius to guess what Mai wanted. "I'm not shy" she said. "I will show you the inside of my pussy if you like." "Mai like." answered the girl, nodding. With the skill of much experience, Joanne reached down between her legs to spread wide the outer lips of her pussy, drawing the fleshy petals apart so as to bring her inner labia and clitoris into sharp prominence. Pushing upwards with her thumbs and to the sides with the tips of her fingers, she managed at the same time to draw back the hood of her clit and spread her labia to expose her vaginal opening. "Very good!" applauded Mai. "You like very much to show off your pussy eh! I know you are not lady. You make money by show pussy to people. Now you show Mai!" Mai resumed her "massage", this time working on the exposed insides of Joanne's pussy. Joanne's mouth opened in a silent "O" of pain as Mai ruthlessly pinched and twisted the model's labia and the tiny bud of her clit, drawing hisses of pain from the tortured blonde. Finally, Mai grew bored of her game and pushed Joanne away. "Yuk! Pussy make Mai hands smelly. I go wash. You wait." Sniffing her fingers with an expression of disgust, the girl walked over to the bathroom. Chapter Six. When Mai returned, she was carrying what looked like a bunch of bamboo rods in her hands and Joanne assumed that she was in for a caning. She was only partially right. "New game!" declared Mai happily, dropping the bunch of rods and other items on the table. Reaching out, she grabbed Joanne's nipples, tweaking them playfully. Turning back to the table, she sorted through the items and selected two rods and some rubber bands. Joanne realised that the rods were actually the two halves of a single bamboo rod, split lengthwise. She watched as Mai re-united the halves and bound them at the centre with a twisted rubber band. Mai held her creation up proudly. "You like?" she asked Joanne. Holding up her hands like crab pincers, Joanne made snapping motions in the direction of her nipples, her eyebrows raised. Mai nodded happily. Stepping closer, she gripped one end of the device and spread the halves apart. "Put titty in here." Her face scrunched up in anticipation, Joanne carefully pushed her nipple into the wooden jaws and waited. Mai let the halves close, the sharp edges gripping the nipple at its base. She completed the job with another rubber band at the end. Joanne's nipple was now firmly trapped by the two lengths of slightly bowed bamboo. This process was repeated with the model's other nipple, leaving her wearing the rod and rubber bands like some bizarre fetish ornament. On its own, the device did not hurt very much, but Joanne had to be very careful not to slide her nipples sideways or she would risk being cut by the razor-like edges. The finishing touch was a length of string, which was looped and knotted on the rods between Joanne's breasts, leaving two long strands dangling to the ground. Mai was now ready to begin. "Bend your body, like bowing." ordered Mai. When Joanne obeyed, the girl tied one length of string to each of Joanne's knees. The model was now fixed in her bent over position, unable to straighten up without cutting her nipples. One more piece of string joined Joanne's wrists loosely together behind her back, preventing her from freeing her breasts. The thin, whippy cane cracked across Joanne's buttocks like a flash of lightning. She cried out in shock, and again when she reflexively tried to straighten up. Her nipples felt like they had nearly been torn from her chest and tiny drops of blood welled up from the hair-fine cuts made by the bamboo. Mai slashed at the model's upturned buttocks six times in quick succession, drawing deep red lines in parallel across the twin globes. The shock of the blows staggered Joanne, who lost her balance, toppling forward. For a second, the model thought that she was going to smash her face on the floor. Then she felt Mai's hand grab the cord at her wrists, pulling her back and wrenching her shoulders painfully at the same time. "You want stop now?" asked Mai. Gasping in pain and terror, Joanne had to pause to catch her breath before she could reply. The pain was something she could deal with, but the fear and uncertainty of being at the vengeful girl's mercy ate at her resolve. "There had to be another way out." she thought. Maybe Paul was wrong and Ruth would feel better in the morning. Joanne shook her head from side to side like a dog coming out of water, flinging her golden hair about in a cloud of silken strands, moistened with her sweat. She knew that her mind was lying to itself in an attempt at self preservation. "No. Go ahead." she replied firmly, bracing her feet and thrusting out her buttocks again. Whack! Whack! Whack! The cane rose and fell rhythmically, thudding into Joanne's buttocks raising swollen weals. If Mai had bent over to look at Joanne's face, she would have been surprised. Freed of the need to show her fear and suffering to the girl, the model's eyes stared ahead of her, clear and unblinking, her face calm as she concentrated on holding her position. The muscles of her face twitched at each agonising stroke, but she was determined to last out the session, telling herself that this was just another modelling job. After an eternity of pain, the blows ceased. The cane that had been cutting at her flesh dropped to the floor with a clatter, and Joanne saw Mai's legs move around her to the table. She heard some rustling of paper and what sounded like the striking of a match. Then the smell of tobacco confirmed that Mai had stopped to take a cigarette break. "You want smoke?" asked Mai. Joanne shook her bowed head, surprised at the offer. "No thanks, I don't smoke." she said. "You right!" said Mai. "Paul always tell me stop. Maybe I stop now, but no ash-tray here." she continued in a puzzled voice. Joanne's heart sank. She realised that Mai had been cruelly teasing her. Mai was going to burn her with the cigarette! She jumped when she felt something tap her on her buttock, but it was just Mai's finger. "You shy again!" declared Mai. Joanne knew what Mai wanted. Her pulse raced as she stretched out her bound hands. Before her courage could fail her, Joanne gripped the cheeks of her buttocks and spread them apart, exposing her crinkled asshole. "Aarghhh!" screamed the model, the cry tearing out from the depths of her throat as Mai carefully ground the glowing tip of the cigarette into the centre of her anus. This time Mai did not catch her as her knees buckled and Joanne toppled to the floor, writhing in agony. With a quick motion, Mai slipped the rubber bands off of the bamboo rod trapping Joanne's nipples. Freed, the model straightened out, writhing on the floor from the throbbing pain radiating from between her buttocks. When she saw that Joanne was capable of understanding her, she said "OK. That is enough for tonight. In morning we take boat. You bring friend. Mai bring this." In her hand was the terrible jagged pipe. Released from her bondage, Joanne dressed and staggered back to her room. Kneeling down beside the bed of her feverish friend, her knees wide apart to reduce the pressure on her singed anus, she whispered "We're going home Ruthie. I've bought the tickets." "Home?" murmured Ruth sleepily. The model stroked the hot damp brow of her friend, nodding in the darkness. "Home" she replied firmly. Chapter Seven. The boat trip was surprisingly uneventful, peaceful even as they motored slowly down the river. Mai was as expert as advertised and they had no trouble making their way through the various hazards. They were shaded much of the way from the blazing tropical sun by the abundant foliage that overhung the river. Finally, Mai brought the boat to a halt at the bank of a quiet stretch of water and announced "One hour more we see town." Unspoken was the final payment for the trip. Joanne did not hesitate. Checking to see that Ruth was still asleep from the shot that Paul had given her, Joanne stripped off her jeans one more time. Lying down on the bench that ran along the length of the boat, she spread her legs wide. Eyes wide in a horrid kind of fascination, she watched as Mai approached with the rusty pipe in her hand. As she neared, Joanne spread open her pussy lips, preparing her vagina for the entry of the jagged, ripping metal. Mai stood over her, the end of the pipe aimed to rip upwards into her vaginal passage. Mai's arm flashed and Joanne watched in amazement as the pipe flew in a flashing arc over the side of the boat and splashed into the river. "You brave woman. You give everything to help friend. Mai no use pipe. Pipe bad thing. Make Mai like women who hurt her in brothel." said Mai to the surprised model, who was still holding her pussy spread wide. "Mai still no like white woman." She grinned. "New deal. You put this on here until Mai say OK to take off. Deal?" 'This' was a small black metal clip, the kind used to hold documents together. 'Here' was Joanne's clit, which Mai tapped with her finger. "Deal!" replied Joanne gratefully. The rest of the trip was a painful one for Joanne, the stiff clip crushing her delicate clit under her jeans. Mai had tied a piece of string to one of the handles of the clip, which protruded from the waistband of her pants. As they neared the dock, Mai helped Joanne carry Ruth onto dry land and even spoke to the officials to arrange for an ambulance. The trio sat silently waiting until the ambulance drove up and the attendants loaded the drowsy Ruth into the back of the vehicle. Joanne turned to Mai. It seemed to the model that some of the burning hate had faded from the girl's eyes, discarded like the pipe. Mai grinned suddenly. "Still no like you." she said, bowing respectfully. Joanne walked over to the ambulance, paused and turned to face the waiting girl. "Deal!" she said loudly. The ambulance attendants watched in amazement as the beautiful blonde seemed to stagger, then rip a length of string from under the waist of her jeans and toss it at the local girl standing beside the dock. Something black and shiny flew through the air, trailing the string. The local girl caught it in her hand and bowed again, grinning. The beautiful blonde woman turned gingerly as if feeling some hidden pain. She smiled at their confusion. "Home!" she said, climbing into the ambulance. "Home." The End.