The sun had been straight overhead by the time Korak had painstakingly hauled that hefty trunk back to the centre of the compound. From first light that muscular minder who had beaten the hell out of him had been on his back. Snarling, cursing, lashing out,
Cursing for any brief break Korak needed to snatch his breath. Ever ready with the cane to punish him back to hard work. Korak stood in the compound doubled up, hand on knees, catching his breath. He’d just realised what he was building here. And the consequences for him later. Building his own torture frame.
The minder’s women had inveigled him to stay. He was the man of the moment, they wanted to bathe in his fame. Get out of the heat, they implored. Come to the hut. Eat. With a lewd suggestion of spicier things to come. He’d earned it. He deserved it.
Resentful the two other guards had to accept their lesser role. No rest for them. Back to the sweltering forest with the foul desecrator.
HIS work was far from done. The swine still had more trunks to cut down. Korak’s minder could enjoy the extra spice the women were offering the tribe’s darling when he’d finished the food. But pitiless he’d ordered the two guards to keep the evil violator at it. In the height of the day, back to the humidity of the forest … they were expected to work the perpetrator into the ground. While he got his rocks off.
They resented that duty. They resented what the tribe’s darling was doing while they were sweating it out. And they made their feelings felt. Stinging lashes across his arse to drive him back to the forest. The swine looked like he might dare curse them back. Both laid into him to make sure he changed his mind. Canes biting across the muscled back. Racing his violator’s hide back to his work.
Sweat was running off Korak as he swung his axe. Flies pestered him. Mosquitoes were drawn to the gooey sweat clinging to him the sharp axe took another bite out of a sturdy tree. Reverberations jarred in tortured muscle. Shocks to his body awakened the gods’ evil goo still burning him up inside. There was no letting up.
Not until a girl arrived. Bare to the waist. Temptation incarnate. Generously equipped with a large gourd of strong liquor. The guards welcomed the sight .. compensation for the tribe’s champion treating them so mean. With the girl they retired to the shade .. grabbing equally for the guard and the girl .. snarling at the perpetrator to get on with it, no slacking.
The idea occurred to Korak when two of them retreated into the trees. The bold girl and one of the men disappeared into the undergrowth …… with some other rigorous activity in mind. After the minder had left them to work this violator into the ground ….. they reckoned they deserved something too. One was already feeling the girl up as they rushed into the undergrowth. Leaving the other guard knocking back the liquor from the gourd and bawling at the desecrator-swine to put his back into it.
Was Korak’s brain working slow? Or was he too shattered to put the idea together? The pair had returned before Korak’s head could see how he could take advantage of their being only one guard. His heart lifted, though …. the second guard took the girl by the waist and sniggering somewhat drunkenly …. He insisted it was his turn.
Again only one guard was keeping an eye on Korak. There’d not be a second chance. The guard had half dozed off .. from liquor, from the satisfaction in his loins. The axe nearly chopped his thigh in half. His screams brought the other running. Naked, still half-hard and distracted, he managed to swerve from the axe head once. But the axe-head caught him on the head next swipe. Korak knocked him out.
The screaming from the wounded thigh had to be stopped. Korak didn’t give him a second thought. And Korak justified punching the girl’s lights out. It went against the grain. But she had to be silenced. And anyway …… she had probably screamed like the rest last night. When he was being brutally beaten .. she’d been there with the rest. Screaming for his hurt.
And Korak wouldn’t get a second chance …….