Bring Out the GIMP (Girls in Merciless Peril)
Stories


TORTURED SISTERS
OF THE
MINDANAO KEMPEI TAI

By Esso


The narrator, Stan, and his lover Jeanne, whose family had been in the Philippines when it was overrun by the Japanese, have taken on the impossible assignment of freeing the women captives of the Japanese Kempei Tai torture cave. The insane plan is for Jeanne to allow herself to be captured, risking inhuman torture, and to spread the word that a rescue mission of U.S. Paratroopers is on its way and the imprisoned girls are to help as a fifth column. A guerilla named Carlos has shown Stan a hidden tunnel into the cave. Before the mission…

Jeanne stood beside me at the edge of the clearing a few hundred yards from the mouth of our cave, her clear blue eyes searching the valley below. Her gaze froze on the naked woman who had been spread-eagled to the ground and crucified with Jap bayonets.

"From this distance," she said in a tight voice, "I can't be sure that isn't my sister they are torturing. I'm going in, Stan. There's no force on this earth that could keep me out."

I'll never forget the final touch of her hand, the final goodbye as she wriggled into the black tunnel. It was all I could do to suppress a cry of horror.

I tried to rest on the hill but throughout the night every scream which came from below reminded me of Jeanne. I had never realized just how hideous this portion of it was. My mind drew pictures of Itagaki inflicting his tortures on her.

Every time I closed my eyes, visions of the pictures I had seen flooded before me. Even now I knew Jeanne might be hanging suspended from her thumbs as Kempei Tai men flogged her with their whips. She might be kneeling on sharp blocks or being subjected to the vicious water treatment. The idea of a Jap jumping up and down on her naked, swollen belly was too much to bear.

*****

The next day, unable to bear the thought any longer of Jeanne being tortured, Stan goes in ahead of the paratroopers…

I decided it would be best to go in at night. At around noon I heard shouting, followed by a short scream. I left the cave and hurried to the vantage point. Through my field glasses I saw six Japs grouped around a woman kneeling on the ground. That was all I could make out as the Nips blocked my view. Then two of the Japs broke off and walked ten paces to two thick logs the width of telephone poles that rose about seven feet high. A second later two more of the yellow fiends followed, dragging a slim girl behind them. She was struggling wildly but making no noise that carried up to my position. She twisted her head backwards and looked in the direction of the kneeling girl. Now I could see a cloth gag was stuffed between her lips. It distorted her cheeks somewhat and for a few rapid beats of my heart I thought it was Jeanne; she had the same color blond hair and dazzling blue eyes…but she was slimmer and her hair was cut shorter. I swung the glasses to the kneeling girl; although her back was to me there was no doubt that it was Jeanne. And the girl looking back at her for help was her sister Paulette.

It quickly became clear to me they were going to torture Paulette and make Jeanne watch her suffer and listen to her screams. They had reached the poles and turned Paulette around to face Jeanne. One of the Japs pulled Paulette's left arm out and held it steady despite her frantic struggles while another wrapped one end of a long rope around her wrist three times and tied it off. Meanwhile two of the other Japs were doing the same thing to her right wrist. The other ends of the ropes ran through rings high up on the poles and were tied off on cleats below. Paulette's arms were now extended up and out above her head. With her wrists tightly bound and pulled away from her body, her hands could do nothing but open and close uselessly in the humid air. She was helpless and the Japs could turn their attention to her sister.

Jeanne knelt in the dust with her wrists bound behind her back. Two of the Japs held her down by the shoulders, kicking her in the side every time she struggled to rise from her knees to help her sister. I could see that she too had been gagged so that neither of their two beautiful captives could communicate with her sister. Now that Paulette had been securely roped between the poles that would hold her for torture, it was time to take care of her sister.

There was another pole set in the ground maybe three yards in front of Paulette's straining body; Jeanne was pulled to her feet and dragged over. While her two guards gripped her arms, another Jap untied her wrists. He then swept her legs out from under her with his foot so she fell heavily onto her knees. All six Japs took part in binding her to the pole, buzzing around her like a swarm of hornets.

She was pulled back by her arms and legs until her back was pressed against the wood. They tied her ankles first, crossing one over the other and then binding them together with thin rope. While her wrists were being bound in the same manner a tent stake was being driven into the ground a few feet behind the pole, and two others more than a foot outside each of her knees. Ropes went around her knees and they were pulled viciously out until they were forced against the stakes. I could only watch while Jeanne writhed in pain from the obscene stretching of her groin as the Japs secured her knees tightly to the stakes. More ropes were fastened to her bound wrists and ankles. These were pulled back hard until they were as taut as violin strings and tied to the stake behind the pole. This pasted Jeanne's shoulders and back painfully to the pole. Her supple limbs were stretched to the maximum. The stress on her shoulders had to be agonizing, and with her knees pulled wide apart and roped to the outside stakes, her thighs were spread open and strained just as horribly.

She was powerless to move her body but the Nips weren't done. A long rope circled the thick post to bind her hips, waist and stomach to the dark wood. With each revolution it was pulled tight and I could see Jeanne's head jerk back with the pain. One of the little yellow bastards tore open the top of her dress and a second cut away her bra, baring her breasts. Rope went around them pulling her even more tightly to the post, two lines below her breasts and two above, squeezing them painfully from top and bottom. I could see the tears of pain and mortification rolling down Jeanne's cheeks.

But even this degradation did not satisfy her captors. The rope was pulled around the pole and her chest in a figure eight pattern around her breasts over and over until the delicate flesh was trapped and swelled in the grip of three cords of the rough hemp bondage. The heavy knot tied at her cleavage rose and fell with the tormented heaving of her breasts.

One of the Japs grabbed Jeanne by the hair and another removed her gag. She had time for one strangled cry of "Paulette!" before rope was pulled between her lips and her head jerked backward against the post. Three times it circled the post and was forced between her lips, effectively gagging her and locking her head against the wood.

All the time the Japs were lashing Jeanne to the pole, Paulette was pulling frantically at her bonds and throwing herself around in a desperate effort to reach her sister. When she heard Jeanne call her name, her struggles became crazed. I could see flecks of blood around her wrists where the ropes had cut into her skin while she thrashed about in her effort to escape, and I could hear her screams through her gag. She was trying to get to Jeanne; to rescue her, to comfort her…I don't know. And probably she didn't either; she was half out of her mind with terror.

When the Japs stepped away from Jeanne, Paulette collapsed and hung sobbing from her wrists. She had no more fight in her. A few steps in front of her, her sister was on her knees, bare breasted, gagged and horribly bound with her thighs painfully spread, staring back at her with nothing but hopeless despair in her eyes.

No, there was something else in her eyes – pain. Her torture had already begun. The Japs were experts at torture by bondage, of breaking a woman with nothing more than rope. Jeanne's arms and legs, strong and agile, were stretched to the breaking point; her joints screamed with pain. The ropes gagging her sawed into the corners of her mouth and left a track of blood on her chin. They had tied her to the post so tightly that breathing was difficult and wreaked havoc on her breasts, their heaving against the rough hemp bondage leaving red welts on her soft flesh.

But this wasn't what pierced Paulette's soul. I knew what was tearing Jeanne apart and so did Paulette. Her sister could bear the pain; what she couldn't bear was that she was helpless and couldn't save her sister. The bondage was horrible. She couldn't move, not an inch, couldn't even turn her head away. It was the Japs demonstration of their total control over her. There was nothing she could do. Gagged as she was she couldn't even beg for mercy, for herself, or her sister.

The Japs had come back to begin their work on Paulette. She was still weeping and trying to call out to Jeanne. Two of them unfastened the ropes from the cleats on the poles and began to pull. Paulette's arms were dragged skyward. Her attention was suddenly drawn from Jeanne to her own peril. She looked up her right arm, and then swung her head to her left. She stared at her bound wrists slowly rising. In a panic she looked from arm to arm, then down her body. Her feet had lifted clear of the ground. I hadn't noticed before that her feet were bare. They then lowered her the few inches it took for her toes to just touch the earth, which is where they tied the ropes off. I think it was here that she realized what was going to happen.

It was not Jeanne who was going to be tortured by the Japanese, it was she. They had bound Jeanne on her knees in front of her so she would have to watch her ordeal, the sadistic bondage merely a way of emphasizing her helplessness. She had seen the Japs cruelty and knew their reputation for inhuman torment. They would make her suffer in unimaginable ways; her torture would be long and slow, they might keep her alive and screaming for mercy for days.

It was at this moment a Jap in a pith helmet and incongruous short pants appeared . He strode into the group with the authority of the commanding officer, which he was. His name was Itagaki. Every one of his minions had snapped to attention. An aide carried a canvas chair for him. He barked a command in Japanese and sat down to enjoy the show. One of the enlisted men approached Paulette. She now knew her ordeal was to about to start. The soldier reached toward her and she tried to move away from his dirt encrusted hand, but hanging by her wrists made it impossible. All she could do was twist ineffectually at the end of her tether. He undid the top button of Paulette's dress. She threw her head back and looked up at the sky as if searching for help from above. There was none coming.

The Jap worked with maddening deliberation, signaling that her torture would be carried out slowly and carefully to prolong her agony as long as humanely possible. After opening each button he dropped his hands and stepped back as though deciding what to do next before proceeding with the unbuttoning of Paulette's top. In this fashion it took two minutes before her blouse fell open.

Another soldier stepped up with a knife and cut away her blouse. He ran his hand up Paulette's stomach and let his fingers linger at the juncture of the cups of her bra. Then with a quick movement cut the waist of her skirt and let it slide down her legs to the ground.

I moved my glasses over to Jeanne. With the rope distorting her mouth and her body so strictly bound she couldn't even struggle, the only thing that gave away her distress were the tears that spilled from her eyes. She was staring at her sister, arms extended upward to her fettered wrists, her toes stretching out searching for purchase. Even at the torturously slow pace at which the Japs were stripping her she would be nude in a minute and her torture would begin.

But Itagaki was in no hurry. At his order the gag was pulled from between Paulette's lips. Her mouth opened and closed like the proverbial fish out of water. Again Itagaki said something she was given a swallow of water from a canteen.

She took a quick glance at Jeanne and then began to beg Itagaki. "Please," she gasped. Her voice was raspy from the gag. "Please, don't do this to us. Please."

Itagaki ignored her and signaled to the Jap with the knife. He first cut the shoulder straps of Paulette's bra. Her breasts were not as full as Jeanne's but they fit her slim frame and were beautifully shaped. They held her bra in place until the fabric joining the two cups was cut away.

Paulette's begging became more frantic as with each step in her preparation her torture grew nearer. Her pleas were directed at Itagaki in short gasps. "No. Don't. Please don't. No. Please no." I wanted to scream at her not to plead with the monster. He was not going to stop his torture for any reason, especially if you were begging him, which would only excite and inspire him to greater cruelties.

Itagaki stepped forward and slowly slid Paulette's panties down her slender legs until they pooled beneath her bare toes. He had saved this final step in her denuding and humiliation for himself. She moaned loudly. Anyone hearing this and not knowing what caused it would think it was a woman in the midst of lovemaking.

Paulette had a lovely body, not as full and lush as her sisters, but lean and athletic in a totally feminine way. I immediately felt ashamed for my erotic appreciation. In a few moments Itagaki was going use his instruments of torture on that beautiful body; then there would be no mistaking moans for sounds of pleasure; Paulette's screams would tell the story of unbearable pain.

Paulette continued to beg him for mercy. He did not deign to answer, just ran his eyes up and down over her naked body. His gaze was certainly lustful but not with a lust that normal sexual appetites could satisfy. Then Paulette looked over at Jeanne for the briefest of moments and seemed to compose herself.

"At least…at least let me talk to my sister before you kill me," she said in a surprisingly level tone.

For the first time Itagaki laughed. "Kill you? We not kill you soon. You not need talk to sister. Just to scream for her."

Even before he had finished speaking, two Japs were squatting before her. Each took a calf in hand and slipped the noose end of a rope over her bare foot. With sharp pulls the nooses closed around her ankles. Paulette looked down in surprise as the ropes were used to pull her ankles apart, spreading her legs wide and opening up her sex. She cried "No!" and then "Stop!" The muscles inside her thighs stood out as she fought to close her legs. It was no use. The Nips pulled the ropes through rings set into the posts a foot above the ground. They pulled the ropes taut, stretching Paulette's legs until she cried out in pain before they tied them off.

The Japs had demonstrated their appreciation of the finer subtleties of torture. Each step in the preparation for Paulette's anguish had been carried out with patience and a view toward increasing her terror. Binding her, stripping her, spread-eagling her between the upright posts… all had been done slowly and carefully, not only increasing her anticipation of her impending agony, but also signaling that this is the manner in which her torture would be performed, with infinite care and mind scalding slowness.

Itagaki said something and the Japs laughed in appreciation. One of them untied the rope that bound Jeanne's head to the post. She cried out to her sister, "Paulette. Oh God Paulette. I love you. Be brave. I love you."

One of the Japs grabbed Jeanne by the jaw and held her mouth open. It wasn't enough they were going to make her watch her sister being tortured, as a final act of debasement they pushed Paulette's panties into her mouth. Quickly they again roped her head tightly to the pole by running three lengths of rope between her lips and circling them around the pole. Once again her bondage held her head so firmly to the pole she couldn't move her eyes from her spread-eagled sister.

Itagaki stood over her for a moment. "Now you watch sister tortured. Hear screams. Also taste." He laughed. "Close eyes, we hurt quick."

Even as she hung there spread naked and helpless in her bondage, I don't think Paulette had given thought to exactly how she was going to be tortured, but when she saw the torch being lit and smelled the oil and tar burning she screamed "Nooooooo!" and began a futile struggle against the ropes.

The torch was no more than a three foot stick, the end of which had been wrapped in a tar and oil soaked rag. The wrapping was not thick so the flame could be more precisely directed at the tender parts of Paulette's body.

The Jap holding the torch stood in front of Paulette, keeping the flame two feet from her stomach. He just stood there. Paulette had stopped screaming and was silently shaking her head back and forth. It was dead quiet, so quiet that the loudest sound was Jeanne's sobbing muffled by her gag.

I focused my glasses on Jeanne. Paulette's ordeal would be horrible for her as well, not only because she was going to be forced to watch her little sister writhe and scream under torture, but because she knew when they had finished working on Paulette it would be her own turn to suffer at the hands of the cruel yellow bastards.

Then I heard Paulette's cry of "No…don't … please … don't … I beg you … don't …"

He was slowly moving the flame closer to Paulette's abdomen. At six inches he stopped and held it there for a brief moment. The heat was certainly painful, but bearable compared to what I knew would follow. Then he slid the torch around to her hip, maintaining its distance from her skin, then around to the small of her back. Suddenly he dipped it toward the cleavage of her buttocks and the flame brushed her flesh but only for an instant. She gave a sharp cry of pain, and then continued with her moaning and begging. Now her pleas were mostly "Stop … please stop … Oh God stop … stop… stop … stop …" repeated over and over in a neverending litany.

The Jap continued this pattern for ten minutes, teasing her with the fire for long seconds before letting it contact her flesh. It seemed three times as long to me and God knows how long to Paulette. When the flame of his torch began to diminish, he was handed another and continued moving the fire over Paulette's body. Naked and spread-eagled, every inch of her skin was available for torment, and he missed nothing. When he touched her with the flame it was only for a half-second.

The torch continued to move and Paulette's suffering became more evident. She was throwing her body from side to side and backwards and forwards trying to escape the fire. Slowly he increased the time he let the flame contact her skin. She wasn't pleading for mercy as much; it was hard for her to beg as the torture left her gasping for air.

Always moving the torch, he let the flame lick at her skin more and more, slowly increasing her agony. He began to concentrate on her front, letting the fire wash over her belly and abdomen. I think the only reason her pubic bush didn't catch was that it was soaked with sweat. He took the flame a bit further away from her skin as he moved it up her right side, then let it eat at her underarm. He held it there for what seemed an eternity. Paulette threw her head back between her up-stretched arms, her eyes squeezed shut, making the deep growling sounds of an animal in pain. The torch fed on her breasts, even lingering a fraction longer on her nipples. Her head still thrown back with her eyes shut, blood was trickling down her chin where she had bitten through her lip in an effort to keep from screaming. Why, I thought? Why not scream out her agony and take the minimal relief that release would afford her? It had to be to spare her sister from knowing the God awful pain she was in.

The Jap continued to work on her breasts, moving from one to the other, back and forth, not neglecting one inch of the delicate flesh, before completing his circuit under her left arm, pulling it back, then waving it under her armpit two more times.

Paulette had stopped struggling against the ropes trying to pull away from the fire. Her useless attempts to free herself had left her exhausted. She still writhed helplessly under her torture but that was an unavoidable reaction to the pain. She was using all that was left of her strength not to scream.

Then I heard Jeanne scream. Even through her gag it was clear and loud. I looked over at her; her eyes were wide with shock and pain. I heard Itagaki's voice, "Close eyes, Ichiro stick needle under nail."

I had heard the Jap torturing Paulette call out something in Japanese before Jeanne's scream of pain and now two soldiers were walking toward the torture posts. As they walked they were wrapping heavy rags around their hands. The two of them went around to separate sides behind Paulette.

Paulette hung in her bondage moaning with her eyes closed as the torch continued to play across her back. Each of her new tormentors put his hands on one of her buttocks and pulled outward, opening up the cleavage between them, and exposing her anus.

She felt it of course. She tried to look back over her shoulder but the Jap with the torch placed his left hand on her neck and pushed her head forward. The pressure from the other two was not only spreading her buttocks but pushing her forward. She could not move, the pressure from the Japs locking her against the ropes that bound her ankles and wrists.

I knew what was coming but I don't know if she did. What I do know is that when the flame licked against the rosette between her cheeks she barely checked a shriek of agony. As before he quickly moved the torch away but kept the fire in contact with her skin, painting her buttocks with sweeping strokes, then let it play between her thighs so it just touched her perineum.

She was making the most pathetic noises through tightly clenched teeth. Above her grunts and moans I heard Jeanne scream through her gag again. Another needle had been pressed under a fingernail. Her eyes were wide open to her sister's torture.

When the flame began to move up Paulette's cleavage she began to beg, "No. No. Not there. Please no. Oh God … not there." He held it there this time for a full count of three, the flame devouring the sensitive flesh around her anal opening. The pain had to be horrific. Her mouth was wide open emitting yelps and gasping screeches. How she managed to hold back a full scream I will never know.

The Nip with the torch held it a full arm's length away from Paulette. For the first time in almost a half hour the heat was not bathing her flesh. It didn't mean her torment was over – the Japs still held her buttocks spread open and her head motionless. Paulette knew it too; she didn't stop pleading with them to end her torture.

"No more. I beg you, no more. Please … please stop. No more pain. I'm begging you. I'm begging you."

The Japs were masters at torturing pretty young women. They knew that a short pause in a victim's suffering would give her hope no matter what logic might dictate. And when her torture resumed her dashed hopes would be as horrible a torment as the actual pain.

So it was with Paulette. When she felt the torch resume its journey up her spread buttocks she responded with an ear shattering shriek of "NOOOOOOO!" then "WHY! WHY MEEEEEE!" And finally when the flame reached her delicate anal entry and was held there while the two Japs pulled even harder spreading her buttocks further to allow the fire to eat in deeper she broke, shrieking wordless screams at the top of her lungs … she was way beyond words.

She no longer cared about Jeanne, about sparing her the sights and sounds of her beloved sister's ordeal by torture; had even forgotten that Jeanne was hideously bound a few feet in front of her, unable to move, being forced to share her agony while knowing her own pitiless torture was fast approaching. All Paulette knew was she had to vent the God-awful agony and utter hopelessness of her torture.

I couldn't watch any more. I swung the glasses to Jeanne. She couldn't watch either. Sobs shook her tightly roped body and her eyes were squeezed closed. Her tormentor was too engrossed in Paulette's torture to notice.

The Jap pulled the torch away from Paulette and walked away. It took at least a minute for her to stop screaming. Then for another five minutes she hung in her ropes moaning and whimpering. She knew her torture had not ended would not end until she died and was beyond the Japs ability to make her suffer.

It in fact was entering a new stage. The ropes circling her ankles were retied to the rings on the posts, but only after being pulled so tight she cried out in pain, begging them to stop over and over. A new Jap took the place of her last tormentor. He had a similar torch and used it in a similar manner, moving it smoothly over her now tightly stretched body, varying the distance from her flesh so sometimes it was merely painful and at other times unbearable. The difference was that now the flame was kept closer to her skin and moved more slowly, with more attention paid to the more sensitive parts of her body. Still it never lingered too long on one spot, keeping the damage to a minimum while the pain remained excruciating.

He too started at her abdomen, but moved it slowly down to her belly, her navel and her mound. He kept it about two inches from her flesh. Somehow Paulette managed to hold back her screams, gasping out loudly "Ahh … ahh … ahh…" until the flame reached her pubic bush. Steam actually rose for a moment from the sweat soaked hair before it began to burn. That's when she began to scream.

Paulette was pulling with all her strength but the ropes held her body taut. All she could achieve was a slight arching of her back. The Jap had moved the flame to her hip, leaving her blonde pubis to burn. She was screaming non-stop now, suffering the twin tortures of the torch and the burning hair on her mound of Venus.

I tore my eyes away and saw the Jeanne could not watch the resumption of her sister's torture. But of course, being bound so tightly to the pole she could not move her head away, she had to shut her eyes. This time the Jap saw and inserted a needle under her nail, and again I could hear Jeanne's scream of pain through her gag.

Inagaki laughed, "Close eyes again we cut eyelids off." I had heard told of the Japs spread-eagling young women out naked on the ground after that operation had been performed. Then stakes were driven into the earth on either side of their heads so they had to stare up at the sun. They were left there screaming as the sun and jungle insects did their work on them. Perhaps Jeanne had heard the same stories; she didn't close her eyes again.

She had to watch while the Jap torturer slid the torch over Paulette's skin from one side to the other, letting the flame linger for an extra second or two at her armpits and nipples. Over and over he made that circuit before squatting down to torture the soles of her feet with the fire. He seemed to take an eternity on her bare feet, not moving the flame as quickly as he had. I could not see Paulette's soles because of the way she was bound, but her toes were red and blistered.

Then he started the slow climb of the flame up the inside of her long naked legs.

It was not a straight path. For every ten inches the fire moved up her leg it moved down six inches. It took detours to her calves and the back of her thighs. It scorched the hollow behind her knee. All accompanied by her screams of pain. But there was never a question as to the flame's final destination. I knew it and Jeanne knew it. I could see her straining to turn her head away, unable to watch her sister's sex slowly roasted and afraid to close her eyes and suffer the torture of the needles. But the rope that gagged her also bound her head so tightly to the pole it made any movement impossible. She would have to watch this climax to Paulette's torture and degradation.

Surely Paulette knew what the Japs were building toward. The muscles in her thighs corded beneath her bared skin as she tried desperately to close her thighs. Of course it was hopeless and I'm sure she knew it. But the idea of the flame licking at her open sex was too much to accept without a struggle. The filthy Nips had stretched her so taut that all she could move was her head, which she shook crazily from side to side in a useless display of denial.

And she begged, screaming her pleas for mercy between the shrieks of pain when the flame splayed against the naked flesh of her pinioned legs. When the torch was lifted high up between her thighs, the Jap torturer began feathering it against her pussy. It was too much for Paulette, and after one long hysterical scream she fainted.

Cold water was splashed over her unconscious body. When she came to the Jap moved back in, holding the torch between her legs, midway between her ankles and knees. Then with infinite patience he began moving the flame back up toward her sex. Paulette craned her neck forward and stared down at the approaching fire. "Please," she sobbed, "Please not there. I beg you, have mercy on me. Please no more. Please … stop … STOP … STOP!!!" Her voice rose into a high pitched shriek as the heat bathed her groin. And the moment before he touched the burning rag to her sex, she threw back her head and screamed to the heavens, "Oh God let me die! Please God let me die!"

He held the torch to her pussy for two, three seconds while his helpless captive shrieked out her agony. Then he moved the flame away from her and after a few seconds she stopped screaming. Paulette stared with undisguised horror at her Jap torturer who now stood a few feet in front of her. He had called for a fresh torch. He was not done with her and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

She was helpless, her nude body spread-eagled between the two torture poles. Her ankle and wrist ropes pulled her so tightly I could see her stomach muscles fluttering in protest. She couldn't move an inch away from the torturing fire, no less escape. So she tried one last time the only option she had left – begging – but this time for the ultimate release from her agony. "Please. No more pain. No more torture. Just kill me. I beg you … just kill me."

The Jap didn't move, simply stared at her. Then Inagaki was at her side. "You die, but in long time. Slow, slow. No stop torture. Much pain. Slow pain."

I looked at my watch. It was time for me to make my way down to the Jap encampment. It wasn't far but I had to leave at least an hour. I had to approach it from the other side, giving the camp a wide berth and maintaining cover. And I didn't know when my chance to sneak into the tunnel would come; I had to be ready.

When Paulette started screaming again I was already on my way down the hill, but I didn't need to see what was happening; I knew the Japs had resumed her torture. I tried to block out her shrieks of pain and concentrate on my mission. Eventually I noticed her screaming had stopped. Whether I was too far away to hear or they had paused in their torture or she had fainted, I didn't know.

It was about ten minutes before the screaming started again. My first impulse was to hurry but there was no way I could stop the torture without dying myself, and best case, alerting the Japs to the presence of American troops and ruining the paratroops surprise mission. So I listened to the screams of a beautiful American girl under torture and picked my way carefully through the jungle.

*****

The screams were different now. Just as shrill but not as constant, more staccato. They had either changed the way they were torturing Paulette or she had weakened from the unrelenting agony.

Finally I reached the opposite side of the clearing in front of the cave. When I peered through the undergrowth my questions were answered.

Jeanne was still roped to the pole but her wrists had been untied, pulled around the pole and retied so her arms circled the pole behind her. A longer rope had been fastened to her bound wrists and run up to a ring set high on the opposite side of the post. The rope had been pulled as tight as possible before being tied off.

Her knees were still tied to the two stakes set at the sides of the post and her ankles remained crossed and bound to the stake at the rear, opening her thighs as before. The only difference was her dress and panties had been cut away. She, like her sister, was now totally naked.

I instinctively swung my glasses to Paulette. She was still spread-eagled between the two torture poles but was now gagged. I had little doubt that it was her sister's panties stuffed into her mouth. Her eyes were half closed, and even as I looked and heard Jeanne shriek in pain, Paulette barely reacted, simply lifting her head and shaking it once before it fell back on her chest.

I looked back at Jeanne. Her screaming had ended and she was now sobbing and shaking her head "no" as another Jap approached her. In his right hand was a seven inch long needle. Only then did I look more closely at her tightly restrained nudity. There were a score of needles stuck in the soles of her bare feet, six more in each of her upper arms and three more in each of her armpits. That is why they had changed her bondage, to give them easier access to her stretched out upper body, especially her bared underarms and breasts.

She was stretched taut. With her knees and ankles secured to the stakes, her legs were held immobile against the pressure of the ropes that bound her hips, waist and chest to the pole. Even the way they had fastened her wrists to the ring high up on the post was meant to increase the pain of her bondage. With the ring on the opposite side of the column, when the rope attached to her bound wrists had been pulled tight, it not only stretched her arms up but twisted them around the pole.

As I watched the Jap slowly inserted the needle into Jeanne's left armpit. The pain must have been horrendous but she didn't scream. She shook her head back and forth and begged, "No. No. Please not again. I beg you, no more. Not again … not again."

As the needle sunk in deeper, she ground her teeth together and her words were replaced by grunts as she tried to stifle her screams. She was gasping for breath, and with each exhale came a short guttural cry of pain. Somehow she managed to hold back long shrieks of agony.

When about two or three inches of thin steel protruded from her underarm the Jap stopped and reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette lighter. He flipped it open and the red yellow flame was almost lost in the brightness of the late afternoon sun. Jeanne was sobbing out frantic pleas that she had to know were useless. "Not that. Please not again. I beg you please stop. No more. Not again. Please not again. No more. No more. Nononono …"

The Jap moved the flame slowly to the head of the needle. As the steel slowly seared the flesh deeper and deeper in her armpit, Jeanne's words dissolved into the raw shrieks of agony I had heard minutes before. She tried to bang her head against the torture post but she was bound so tightly she could not move her neck more than a few inches.

I had to turn my head away from this beautiful brave woman whose naked body I had held close just hours earlier. She had arched her body against mine, her legs enfolding my hips and her arms wrapped around my back. Our sweat mingled to lubricate our love and she pressed her mouth to my shoulder to muffle her scream when she came.

Now it was torture that that polished her body with sweat and her unbridled screams were of pain, not pleasure. She was as naked as when we had made love but her nudity was not an invitation for my worship but a target for Jap torture. Even though every muscle was etched against her bare flesh, there was no escape from the ropes that bound her for that torture. She couldn't move, not an inch. Not to escape, not to avoid the torture of the needles and fire. When Jeanne screamed again I focused my glasses not on her but on Paulette. Her sister's last scream seemed to have awakened her and she strained forward as far as the ropes that spread-eagled her would allow. Her face was thrust toward Jeanne, tears running down her cheeks. And although I couldn't hear her, I knew she was trying to cry out Jeanne's name through her gag.

I heard Jeanne scream again. I looked back at her. The Japs had started to work on her breasts.

There were two of them now. While one heated the needle he had thrust into her left breast, the other was slowly sinking another into her right. When only two inches were left protruding from her right breast, the process of heating it with the flame was begun; at the same time a new needle was started into her left. In this way both Jeanne's breasts were under constant torture.

Her screams of agony were unceasing now, broken only by the need to take a deep breath. Then she started screaming for me to save her. "Help! Stan help me! Make them stop! I can't take anymore! Oh God Stan make them stop!"

Why didn't she faint? How could she keep screaming like that? I couldn't bear to listen to her desperate irrational shrieking for me to save her, but I couldn't tear my eyes away as they turned her soft perfect breasts into vessels of pain.

When one of the Nips scratched her right nipple with his needle and then touched it gently to its center, her eyes flew open wide and her mouth gaped open for a moment before she screamed "Help meeee! Oh God help meeee!"

The insertion was done as slowly as possible to prolong Jeanne's agony to the maximum. He drilled the needle down into her breast through the center of her nipple. She screamed uncontrollably, thrashing her head violently from side to side and fighting with all her strength against the unyielding ropes.

With this needle the Jap pushed it in as deeply as possible into the soft tissue of her breast until the rounded head pressed up against the bud of her nipple. He stopped and stared down at his victim until she stopped shrieking in pain.

Jeanne starred up at him and once more began sobbing out her hopeless pleas as she waited for him to apply the flame. "Don't. Please don't. Not the fire. My breasts. No more fire. I beg you don't." He simply smiled and began injecting a different needle down the center of her other nipple.

With both nipples skewered it was now time for the fire. With the head of the needle pressing against her nipple, when he heated the metal the flame also licked at the pink bud it had pierced, so while the torturing heat was being carried deep into her breast, the fire was also roasting her poor nipple from the outside.

It was too much for Jeanne, she went berserk with the pain, shrieking madly and throwing herself at her bonds. It did her, of course, no good. The ropes held her fast for more torture and her screams and pleas fell on unhearing ears. And what would her new torture be? I knew the needles would move down her naked body, piercing and burning her stomach, her belly and finally her sex. They wouldn't let her die; the only question was would she be insane when they finished with her.

I couldn't watch anymore and slowly backed away toward the hidden tunnel. There were at least a dozen young captives awaiting a similar fate inside the cave and I couldn't let my personal feelings interfere with their rescue.

When the two girls were out of sight I could still hear Jeanne screaming under the Jap torture. In my mind's eye I could see her bound to the post, unable to move, while she waited for the fire to reach the first needle that had pierced her pussy. And Paulette spread-eagled between the torture poles watching helplessly as her sister suffered.

*****

Volcanic rock cut into my bare back. I cursed the pain and wriggled lower. In sudden panic I felt the sides of the passage grip my chest, holding me in their firm embrace. The more I squirmed, the tighter its grip became.

Then in the next instant, my own distress was forgotten in the blood curdling series of cries which reached me from below. Sweat stood out on my skin, fell in blinding torrents into my eyes. I wondered if this was the way I was meant to die, trapped in the twisting passage listening to the tortured screams of the women.

I wondered about the dynamite sticks I'd tied around my waist. Suppose the powder became soaked with my perspiration. Another shriek of pain reached my ears. I twisted in my rock prison. Then I was descending. My sweat coated body had become slippery as an eel. The passage grew into a tunnel.

Now my feet slid over the slippery rocks. Up ahead the passage widened into a vault-like chamber. Around its walls stood nearly naked women, their arms twisted behind their backs and tied to rings which had been imbedded in the rock. As I watched in horror, the Kempei Tai beasts moved among them, subjecting them to obscene mauling. The women stared back in mute defiance for as long as they could.

But then one of the Jap sergeants lit a cigarette. He stood surveying a bound brunette girl for a moment. With diabolical slowness he dragged on the cigarette until the tip glowed cherry red. With an animal-like grunt he plunged it into the woman's tender flesh. I could see her teeth biting through her lip as she fought the need to scream out her pain. She withstood the burning for another few seconds. But when the smoldering butt seared her delicate skin for the third time, this time on the aureole of her nipple, her head flew back and her mouth opened in a cry of unendurable agony.

The other women stared at her in mute sympathy. But they felt terror for themselves as well. One girl – a redhead of about 20 or so – was cut from the wall and dragged screaming and pleading to a long bench-like table. She still wore the remnants of a white dress which indicated she might have been an Army nurse.

Three Japs held her straining body flat against the table's rough surface as a Kempei Tai guard stripped her naked. His brutal fingers probed her body, savoring her terror. She writhed helplessly in her captors grasp as first her bra was torn from her heaving breasts and then her panties ripped from her hips. She could do no more than arch her back and scream as his hand worked cruel torments between her thighs.

A coil of heavy rope was produced and he lashed her ankles to the bottom of the table, spreading her legs to the point where her hips were very nearly disjointed. Then other ropes were passed over her thighs and waist. Her arms were bound securely to the table top.

Despite the way she was tied, she thrashed wildly when the hose was forced behind her teeth and rammed deep into her throat. The grinning Japs stood at the head of the table watching her abdomen distend with the ever increasing pressure of the water. Her flesh turned a violent purple and I knew it was a matter of seconds before her stomach either burst or crushed her lungs.

One of the Japs yammered something and climbed up on the table. I watched in horror at what he did next. He stomped on the tortured girl's stomach, forcing water to spew from her lips. He did it again and again while she writhed in agony.

Finally the Kempei Tai men began to tire of their sport with the helpless girl who now lay unconscious. They swaggered up to a beautiful blonde nurse who had been chained to the wall by a cruel collar which circled her throat. Quickly they removed the iron piece and began dragging her struggling and screaming into one of the stone passageways.

I touched the dynamite sticks and followed after the Japs. As I passed the other captives they looked at me in consternation. Frantically I put a finger to my lips hoping they would understand the need for remaining silent. One blonde girl lifted her head wearily. "You've come," she cried. "She said you'd come."

"Where is she?" I gasped. "Where have they taken her?"

"Below. Itagaki's private torture chamber. It's too late for her."

Her eyes pleaded with me to unbind her. "I'll be back," I said, knowing that there was no chance of my making it out of the cave.

I moved behind the Kempei Tai, listening to the thud of their boots on the stone floor below. Suddenly I came to the most monstrous scene that could have been devised.

It was a huge room with a tremendous platform which surrounded a bubbling vat of boiling oil. A maze of ropes hung from pulleys in the ceiling. A smirking Itagaki scampered around the catwalk barking orders like a gibbering ape. As my eyes grew accustomed to the bright light, the diabolical purpose of the place was branded on my brain.

The Kempei Tai noncoms hurled the bound girl they had dragged from the ante chamber to the stone floor. She cowered there, aware that her skirt had ridden up around her waist, revealing her shapely hips which were covered only by the briefest black silk panties.

Itagaki cackled with glee. "So American woman thinks Imperial Japan will lose war. We show Imperial Japanese still in charge."

The girl moaned and turned her head aside as Itagaki squatted beside her, grasping her blonde hair in his filthy hands and twisting it. His slobbering lips touched the girl's. She thrashed wildly, but her wrists were still securely tied behind her.

The fiend laughed deep in his throat. "You too good for officer of Imperial Japanese Army. You beg for his mercy. You see."

He clapped his hands twice and one of the non coms reached for an overhead rope. The woman's eyes were wide with terror as she felt the noose slide over her small feet and felt the rope tighten around her ankles.

In sickened fascination I saw her legs being drawn up by the hawser until only her shoulders rested on the catwalk. The non com heaved mightily and her head swung clear of the floor. The woman's dress fell back over her face but was quickly torn from her body. Slowly she twisted on the end of the line, her bound hands offering no protection from the brutal caress of the assembled Japs. Her firm breasts heaved against the bra she wore. Itagaki reached out and grasped the covering in his filthy hands, ripping it from the bound woman, then clawed at her black silk panties until she hung totally nude from the heavy rope.

Now the noncom pulled the line again and the girl was swung upward until her bare feet touched the ceiling. The Jap was a master with the line. He had probably had enough experience torturing young American nurses. Like a man operating a giant crane, he maneuvered the rope until the girl hung directly over the bubbling vat.

Then slowly, inch by inch, the naked beauty began her diabolical descent until her long blonde hair hung into the vat itself. Her screams filled the room and ended in choking gasps as the hellish fumes of the burning oil filled her lungs.

"You boil in oil. You find out what it means to fight Imperial Japanese," Itagaki gloated.

Sweat poured over my body. I watched the glistening form of the tormented nude twisting and turning over the cauldron. I touched the dynamite sticks. Perhaps I could end it all right now for myself, for the Kempei Tai, for their helpless victims.

But before I had time to install the percussion caps my attention was taken up by the commotion on the catwalk. The Japs had dragged another form into the room. She was naked and heavy ropes bound her arms and legs. I couldn't tell whether the woman was conscious or not.

They lowered her to the ground and stood back surveying their handiwork. "Jeanne!" I moaned as I saw her chalk white face. A moment later I saw Paulette's nude body being dragged in behind her.

"These two special," Itagaki smirked. "These we lower feet first. Those beautiful legs will be charred stumps. The hips will blister and blacken. But we will not let them die. They will be an example to all the rest."

Jeanne tried to raise her head. She felt Itagaki groping her bared breasts and belly. He made an obscene remark in Japanese as his torture master lifted Jeanne to her feet and thrust a cruel arm around her throat in a stranglehold while vicious hands tore away the ropes which had bound her. I saw that the needles they had used to torture her had been removed, leaving small burn marks on her naked body, inflamed circles that hardly told of the unholy suffering the red hot needles had inflicted.

The ropes that had bound Paulette's ankles and wrists were untied and now she was hauled next to Jeanne. Each was held upright by a Jap soldier. After the horrid torture each had suffered they could not have stood unaided. It took a moment before they realized what was happening.

The Japs had not forgotten about the young woman they were torturing, but now she was to be used as a prelude to Jeanne's and Pauline's ordeal. She had stopped screaming for the moment as she gasped for air, the noxious fumes from the vat making it near impossible to breathe. When they hauled her up a few feet she started screaming again, the words of "mercy" and "stop" and "oh God not again" barely discernable in her high pitched shrieks.

The two sisters watched in horror as the naked girl was once more lowered head first toward the roiling vat. Again they stopped when her long blond hair broke the surface of the boiling oil, and held her there while she twisted and struggled against the ropes that held her. The hot oil splattered against her bare shoulders and neck, drawing strangled croaks from her throat as she tried to lift her head out of harm's way. Judging when she was about to pass out they once again lifted her clear of the vat and held her there to recover before lowering again.

It was clear that the Japs were going to prolong the girl's torture for as long as possible and Paulette managed to gasp, "Oh God Jeanne. They're going to do that to us."

Paulette and Jeanne were spun around so they faced each other. Simultaneously each moved her eyes down the other's body, taking in her sister's nudity and vulnerability and the burns of her torture, knowing it was mirrored by her own, before looking back up into her sister's eyes and seeing her own fear reflected there. They didn't see the unconscious nurse being released from the rope that had held her over the vat.

The two girls were roughly pushed forward and held there so their naked bodies were pressed tightly together. A halter fashioned from an overhead rope was dropped over their heads. Their wrists were pulled through the noose and the halter pulled up so the tough hemp cut into their armpits and they were forced up on their toes. Then their wrists were rebound behind each other's' back and their ankles first tied together and then roped to their sister's. To complete their bondage, double strands of rope went around them at below their shoulder blades and at their waists, pinning their arms against their backs, and then around their thighs just above the knees.

The final use of the rope was totally unnecessary in binding them together, but served as a last manifestation of their total degradation to emphasize their complete helplessness at the hands of their Japanese torturers; Itagaki tied three lengths of rope around their necks so the girls' right cheeks were pressed immovably against each other.

All the while they were being bound to each other they struggled to be free, but even from the onset with their ankles roped together, their arms locked about each other in an inescapable embrace and the harness pulling them up on their toes, it was worse than futile. Still they couldn't help struggling even though their efforts merely slid their sweat slicked bodies erotically against each other for the sadistic entertainment of their torturers.

Now their writhing bodies were raised off the platform until their bare feet were at eye level with the jabbering Nips. Jeanne was weeping softly and Paulette was moaning her sister's name over and over. At a signal from Itagaki the noncoms chained two hundred pounds of weights around their ankles.

Jeanne's face was turned toward me and I saw her mouth open wide in a gasp of surprise and pain as her joints were stretched to the breaking point by the intolerable burden. The added weight made the rough rope halter saw away the flesh at the girls' tender underarms. I saw Jeanne try to stifle her screams of pain but it was no use. I had heard her shrieking in agony under Itagaki's torture outside but in the cave it was different; her screams were joined by her sisters and the echo magnified their excruciating howls. I covered my ears to try to blot out the sounds of their unbearable suffering. Now there was nothing left to do but blow the place up. The paratroopers, if they ever came, would never find a trace of this cavern torture palace.

I started to prepare the dynamite. I looked one last time at Jeanne. She had managed to stop screaming and now groaned and sobbed in pain together with her sister as they swung them out from the catwalk. Slowly they were lowered toward the boiling oil. When their eyes were level with the catwalk Paulette registered the girl they had seen being tortured just minutes before, sprawled unconscious on the catwalk, still nude and still bound by the ropes, waiting helplessly for another round of torment at the hands of the Japanese sadists.

"Oh God! Oh my God!" Paulette cried as they slowly lowered the two naked girls toward the boiling oil. They stopped two feet above the vat. Sweat rolled off their bodies and the torment of the weights grew even worse than the fire. They were lowered another foot and it was only a matter of moments before the girls' moans and cries became screams of pain as the heat rose to envelop first their legs and then their entire bodies. When the weights dragging their limbs downward were totally submerged in the oil and their toes just inches above the surface the Japs halted their descent. The hot oil bubbles burst and splattered against the sisters' bare feet and calves, drawing horrendous shrieks of agony from their raw throats. They would struggle mightily to lift their feet out of the searing circle of pain, but with their legs bound tightly together, it was impossible to even bend their knees. Then after a full minute they were slowly raised out of reach of the scorching viscous liquid.

Itagaki let them hang above the catwalk for five minutes before he had them swung over toward him. I believe the girls thought that their ordeal was over, but Itagaki had another hundred pounds hung from their ankles, drawing fresh screams of pain as the weight stretched their tortured bodies to the breaking point. He then had them slowly lowered back down toward the vat of boiling oil.

Paulette started begging, promising Itagaki she would do anything if he would only stop their torture. "No more! I beg you no more! I'll do anything … I'll be your slave! Just stop! Oh God please stop!" Jeanne was sobbing to her sister, "Paulette. Oh God Paulette. It's coming … they're going to drop us in."

Then once more they were mere inches above the roiling surface and their screams were shrieks of pure agony.

*****

I still don't know what prevented me from detonating the explosive, but feverishly I raced back over the stones. Then I was beside the chained women, cutting their bonds, barking orders for them to run. With all the Japs down watching Jeanne and Paulette suffer it was their best chance. It wasn't every day they got to watch two naked French beauties being tortured. At first the freed prisoners couldn't comprehend the madness of the situation, but as it dawned on them, they moved forward.

I retraced my steps to the master torture chamber. Before we reached the entrance I heard with horror the blood chilling cries of women in unimaginable pain – they were making Jeanne and Paulette scream again.

The screams I had heard were not only of pain but also of absolute terror; the Japs were rebinding the sisters so as to expose their most sensitive parts to the boiling oil.

A length of bamboo had been placed horizontally between them so it was held in place by the pressure of their naked bellies pressing against each other. Then the pole was tightly fastened with ropes around their waists. The weight was cut from their legs and their ankles retied so each of Jeanne's ankles was secured to Paulette's opposite ankle, so although their legs were still locked together, they could be spread apart. Now the purpose of the bamboo pole was apparent – Itagaki was going to pull their long slender legs full length from their hips and bind their ankles to it. The limbs would be forced into an exaggerated split of more than 180 degrees, and no matter how supple and flexible they were the pain would be excruciating. Worse, when they were lowered it would not be their bare feet that would be held inches above the bubbling oil but the entire length of their outstretched legs, their inner thighs and their exposed pussies.

With skill born of long experience, two Jap soldiers fashioned simple hoists from rope that ran from the bamboo pole to the girls' bound ankles. Then in unison began to purposefully pull the struggling captives' ankles up, opening the sisters' sex for the boiling oil as they split their legs wider and wider.

Paulette started screaming first, shrieking out her pleas for mercy. She was trying to shake her head in denial, but she was bound so tightly by the neck to Jeanne, all she managed to do was add to her sister's torment. Jeanne was holding back her own screams but could not control her loud moans of pain.

When the girls' feet were even with the bamboo pole thin sisal rope was used to bind their ankles to it. This left them pressed in a tight embrace, breast to breast and belly to belly, with their arms tied behind each other's back and their legs spread wide, gasping for air and whimpering in pain and fear. Their calves and the soles of their feet had already been scorched and blackened by the splattering of the boiling oil. Now the more tender parts of their naked bodies would feel the agony of the Japs' diabolical torture.

This was not lost on the suffering girls. When they were swung out from the platform and their bound bodies started on their slow descent to the oil, Paulette started shrieking hysterically to her sister, "Oh God Jeanne, not like this! Make them stop! Don't let them! Not there! Don't let them!"

Even facing this unthinkable torture, Jeanne tried to ease her sister's panic inflamed anguish. She could barely speak, the words coming in pain contorted gaps, "Be brave … it'll be over soon … don't let them hear you scream … don't beg…" But she had to know that it would not be over soon, that the Japs would draw out their torture to the last possible moment. Their excruciating death by torture was hours, maybe days, away.

But even this courageous girl, who had sacrificed herself on a million to one chance to help the captured nurses, had her limit. As they hovered a foot over the oil, their downward path halted by the Japs to let the girls anticipate the torture to come, she started moaning "The heat … oh God the heat." Then slowly the Japs continued to lower the helpless sisters.

Six inches above the roiling oil, the heat was unbearable. Sweat dripped off their naked bodies and lubricated their skin as they writhed against each other in the throes of agony. Paulette was screaming out pleas for mercy again and Jeanne was grinding her teeth together in an effort to keep from doing the same. The bubbles from the superheated oil was snapping fractions below the naked flesh of their stretched legs.

Another inch down and Jeanne broke. The first scorching blister of oil broke against her thigh and she could not contain her howl of pain. The bubbles continued to break just below the helpless girls' widely spread legs, until another seemed to explode into Jeanne's pussy, and she gave up the fight to control her pain. She screamed, first a wordless shriek of pain, and then a torrent of pleas for her torture to stop, "No more! No more! Please stop! I beg you stop!"

Goaded on by their screams, the Jap torturers lowered them until their heels skimmed the boiling surface and their wide spread thighs were an inch above the snapping bubbles that threw searing oil into their open pussies.

The Japs only held them there for half a minute before raising them out of the direct spray of the boiling oil. It took a full minute for their screams to resolve into sobs and moans of pain. Then they began to lower them again.

I watched their slow descent toward the roiling vat and heard their heartrending pleas for mercy. Paulette was shrieking "no no no … oh God not again!" Jeanne had lost the last shreds of her composure and bravery and was screaming hysterical pleas for them to stop her torture. Then they were scant inches above the hot oil and the scorching bubbles were splattering against the bared flesh of their widely spread legs and the vulnerable tissue of their gaping vaginas.

I had to stop the obscene torture of these two innocent girls, but if I attacked now they would drop into the bubbling oil. I racked my brain for an answer but none came. Even a death as horrible as that would be better than the slow torture they were being subjected to. And I had to give the freed nurses the chance to make good their escape.

As I watched they raised the suffering girls up a few feet and held them there. This time their screams and pleas continued unabated. Thy understood. The Japs were going to play with them like this for hours and hours, drawing out their torture, prolonging their agony for days on end, making sure the godsend of death was never granted. Their screams this time were not only of pain, but of horror and absolute despair.

Jeanne started to beg, to plead with Itagaki to stop the torture, promising him anything if he would only release her. Itagaki laughed. It was more than I could bear, to watch the bravest woman I had ever known broken, reduced to groveling before her heartless tormentor. Then I remembered all the yellow bastards were in the cavern unless a couple of guards had been left outside and were missing all the fun. I couldn't let the sisters' torture go on any longer and the only way to end it meant they had to die. I whispered a final farewell to Jeanne before I began to toss the dynamite into the midst of the horrific scene.




Esso Index  |  Bring Out the GIMP Stories Index  |  Back to Forum  |

Story page generator script by the Scribbler --- DaringHeroines.com