Gavin's Rock (Chapter 6) - The Harpoon Incident

 

It had been a week since the daring mission at Gabriel’s mansion, a week since Bianca joined forces with the girls to form the BDSM Sisters. They had carved out a small sanctuary in the basement of the general kitchen, where Bianca had taken on the role of mentor, guiding the women through a grueling combative training regime. In just seven days, the girls had shown remarkable progress, their initial hesitations slowly giving way to determination and strength.

“Bring up your knee! Imagine that’s your husband’s balls!” Bianca’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding, as she watched Silla practice on the punching bag. Silla’s eyes narrowed, the image of Alif’s smug, handsome face flashing in her mind, his legs wide open in arrogance. She drove her knee into the bag with a force that startled even herself.

At the same time, Madelyn hesitated, her movements faltering. “Oh my God. I can’t do this!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration and fear.

Bianca, not one to coddle, turned to her with a stern expression. “Lady, you need to keep practicing. These men are vicious. They’re going to eat a pretty girl like you alive if you’re not ready!” she said, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

Madelyn’s face flushed with anger. “Can we just take a break?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to maintain her composure.

“Taking a break is for the weak!” Bianca shot back, her voice as hard as the training she demanded.

Madelyn’s control snapped. “You think I’m weak? I’m married to Chase Routledge. I handle his shit every single day. Don’t you dare call me weak!” Her voice trembled with pent-up emotion as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the basement. Dinah watched the exchange with quiet eyes, taking in the tension between the two women. Bianca sighed deeply, rubbing her temples in frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

Silla leaned in closer to Bianca, her voice soft yet firm. “It’s okay, I’ll talk to her.” She followed Madelyn into the common room, where Madelyn was sipping water from her bottle, trying to calm herself down.

“I know she’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t give her the right to boss me around,” Madelyn muttered, her voice thick with emotion. She didn’t look at Silla, her eyes focused on the floor, lost in her thoughts.

Silla sat down beside her, gently pulling Madelyn’s head to rest on her chest. “Mads, we don’t really know what she went through in that basement, the hell she endured alone. You’re strong, I know that, but living in isolation, without hope, it changes people. She’s trying to prepare us the best way she knows how. The Watchdogs are vicious, and she’s right to push us hard, but your feelings are valid too. Just don’t let this divide us, okay?”

Madelyn’s resolve softened as she nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Bianca, who had been watching from the doorway, stepped back, her expression a mix of regret and determination. “Madelyn is a sweet lady, she’s really in touch with her feelings,” Dinah observed quietly, her eyes meeting Bianca’s.

Bianca nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just want us to be safe… all of us.” The weight of her words hung in the air, and Dinah could see the struggle from both perspectives, understanding the tension but also the necessity of it.

Silla and Madelyn returned to the training room, their earlier tension eased by their brief moment of understanding. Madelyn offered Bianca a small smile, and Bianca returned it, the unspoken apology accepted between them.

“So, Dinah, how’s our progress?” Bianca asked, redirecting the conversation to their mission.

Dinah’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “I spread 100 posters of ‘Beware of the BDSM Sisters’ everywhere. Damian and Lucas are scared out of their minds—they’re trying to hide it, but it’s obvious. Our propaganda is working better than we hoped. The idea of releasing Gabriel’s picture with an X over his groin was genius. I’ve heard some women talking about it already.”

Silla smirked, a spark of satisfaction in her eyes. “Chase is working overtime. He’s desperate to figure out who the BDSM Sisters are.”

Bianca smiled, a rare moment of pride showing through her usual stern demeanor. “Next, we strike at the soul of this island... the gold mine.”

The room fell silent, the weight of their next target sinking in. The gold mine was the heart of Gavin’s Rock, the source of its wealth and power. Striking there wasn’t just about disrupting the economy—it was about sending a message. They were ready to take their fight to the very core of the island’s patriarchy.

Damian, Lucas and Yello were sitting together in the Koller's living room, each in his own thoughts. Damian had one of the posters with the BDSM Sisters' slogan on his lap, and looked at it puzzled, but also with disgust and a little bit of fear (that he tried to hide from the other two boys). But his cousin and his friend felt uneasy, too. Dr. Koller, Damian's father, had given them the order to support the busy Watchdogs, and search for the posters in the island's center to remove them. "As few people as possible should see this abominable work of destructive propaganda!", Koller had told them. "Especially girls and women - they are so easy to influence!" Feeling that Dr. Koller, whose usual attitude was that of cool superiority to the level of arrogance, was nervous and apparently clueless, let the boys get even more worried and irritated. They reminded of a small herd of young bulls, huddling together while some danger was approaching them. "BDSM Sisters! Such a fucked-up nonsense!", Damian cursed. "Must be those bitches in costumes who attacked us when we wanted to pick up Dinah..." - Yello nodded, and looked even paler than normally, while Lucas tried to hide his fear behind his anger. "And who attacked Gabriel's lair! Look at that picture! They're mocking the greatest living man on this island! Threaten him! Have you heard what they did to Taz?!" The other two boys had heard rumors about what had happened, and had heard Dr. Koller talking to his colleague Hodenberg about it. "It seems we were still lucky when they just beat us up...", Yello mumbled. Damian turned to his cousin. "I'm not afraid of them! Next time we'll be prepared for them, and fuck those bitches! We will show Gabriel that we're real men who protect our society!" After this promise, Damian looked at the poster again. "What's 'BDSM' anyway?" - "Bondage... Dominance ... Sadism... that kind of stuff...", Yello said. Damian stared at his cousin in surprise: "Where do you know that from?!" Yello blushed: "Uh ... don't know .... I guess Jonah told me about that ..." Once again he was surprised how naive and uninformed the boys on the island were, in some aspects, compared to the Cockville City boys. "I wonder what Jonah would say to all this ... wish he was here with us", Yello thought, and shivered slightly.

Meanwhile, in their new, still a bit unfamiliar house, Silla flinched when she heard Alif's voice before the entrance door, and the voices of other men. She had been deep in thoughts staring at the mask of her costume. Now she hurried to hide it under one of the cushions of the sofa on which she was sitting. Just a second later, Alif and his new friends entered the living room. Silla noticed angrily that they didn't put off their dirty shoes, and ruined the floor of the living room she had just cleaned up an hour ago. "Could you please...", she started, but before she could continue, Alif lifted her up with ease, kissed her on the mouth, and showed her to his friends like a puppet or a pet. "Look, this is my little wife! Isn't she cute when she's angry?"

The two tall blond caucasian guys who had accompanied him laughed in amusement. "Really! Like a little doll you could play with!", Micky Van De Ven, one of the two, said with a broad grin, ogling Silla's body.  He was a tall blond guy with short blond hair and a winning smile, but a menacing, ironic look in his eyes. Drew was also a blond athletic guy, who looked a bit younger and slightly less dangerous than Micky.

"Silla, these guys are ... Micky, my supervisor in my new job in the mines ... and this is my buddy Drew! Say hello to them!"

"Hello", Silla said with a reserved tone. "Could you now let me down, Alif?!" Her anger grew, as she felt exposed and ridiculed, but she decided to play her role as a devoted housewife - for the time being. "Maybe you can prepare a little snack and a little drink for us, while we go down to the gym and test some of our new exercise machines!" It was clear from Alif's tone that this was not a polite question to his wive, but an order, even though he smiled at Silla, and blinked his eyes.

Silla had heard the rumors, the whispers of how Micky Van De Ven had taken it upon himself to teach Alif the ways of Gavin’s Rock, its dark customs and twisted culture. Madelyn had also warned her about Micky, calling him one of the most dangerous Goldminers on the island, only second to Sebastian Giraldo, the fearsome leader of the Goldminers. Silla knew she had to be careful around him, but she also knew how to use the information to her advantage.

As she observed the men outside the gym, Silla noticed them stripping down, preparing to change into their gym clothes. Their discarded underwear, jeans, and casual attire were left carelessly in a heap by the entrance. Her eyes immediately locked onto Alif’s jeans, knowing that this was a rare opportunity. Alif, usually so careful, had finally let down his guard, leaving his key unattended.

With the key securely in hand, Silla slipped away, making her way to the bedroom where Alif kept the safety box. She moved quickly but cautiously. Her hands trembled slightly as she inserted the key into the lock, the click of the tumblers releasing almost too loud in her ears. Opening the box, she found the remote nestled among Alif’s other valuables, the device that had controlled her every movement .

Silla carefully lifted the remote, turning it over in her hands as she examined it closely. She found the wire she needed to cut, the one that would render the device useless. Taking a small knife from the drawer, she sliced through the wire with a steady hand, the collar around her neck now nothing more than a meaningless accessory.

But she wasn’t done yet.

Silla carefully placed the key back in Alif’s jeans, making sure everything was exactly as it had been before. Then, with a mischievous smile, she retrieved a small jar from her pocket—a mix of hot cream and itching cream she had prepared earlier. She dipped her fingers (with gloves) into the concoction and smeared it along the inside front of each man’s boxer shorts, right where it would make the most contact with their dicks.

 She finished her task and quickly retreated to a hidden spot nearby, waiting for the men to finish their workout. She wanted to see their reactions, to watch as they experienced the burning, itching sensation she had so carefully orchestrated. It’s the warm up she needed

Silla took up her role as an obedient housewife again, and prepared some burgers for the men. But taking three bottles of cold beer from the fridge, the mischievous smile on her face returned when she heard Alif and his buddies coming up the stairs, boasting and laughing. "I will enjoy this show so much", Silla thought, trying hard to look innocent and earnest. "Yeah, that's what we need now!", Alif said when he entered the kitchen, seeing the burgers and the beer bottles. Unvoluntarily, he was already moving a bit strangely, as if something on his crotch disturbed him, but he hadn't fully realized it yet. His friends followed him. Micky was still in a great mood, but Drew touched his bulge from time to time, and coyly scratched it. Just when the men sat down and reached for their beers, the full effect of Silla's cream set in. Alif's Asian eyes widened comically as if a wasp had suddenly stung him. "Whaaa...", he cried in surprise, pressing his hand on his crotch. Also the other two men's faces looked shocked when the itching on their genitals fully started. "Aaaaah shit!", Drew shouted, and tried to pull down his tight jeans. Nervously, he fumbled on his belt, but couldn't open it as fast as he wanted. "What's up, Alif?", Silla asked in feigned astonishment. "Anything wrong with the beer? Why is your friend Drew trying to undress in our kitchen?" Alif didn't answer, and tried to soothe his itching bulge desperately, while Micky slid his hand in his pants, touching his dick. "Aaaah, that burning ... what is that?! It's getting worse and worse..." The tall blond guy suddenly looked very pathetic as he whined and complained about that stinging, etching sensation on his manhood. Drew had finally managed to pull down his jeans and underpants, and examined his big cock and heavy dangling balls, which looked red and sore. "Alif, what the hell is going on! This is our house, not your sauna club!", Silla protested, biting on her lips to not burst out in laughter. Now also Alif opened his jeans, and took out his dick. It looked sore like Drew's, and to Alif's embarrasment, it started to get hard when Alif touched and rubbed it in pain. The men looked at each other, now all of them with their pants down in front of Silla. She noticed that Micky had by far the biggest manly endowment, but now it looked like a pathetic red worm while Micky scratched it in a frenzy. "It seems that our new exercise machines caused some allergic reaction?", Silla proposed an explanation. "I will complain to the company where we ordered them! My poor darling!" She looked at Alif, and now she couldn't hide her mischievous smile anymore.

“Alif, just sit, please,” Silla said, her voice laced with mock concern, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Alif’s face contorted in agony as he fell to his knees, clutching at his crotch. “It’s hurting! MY DICK IS BURNING!!!” he screamed, tears welling up in his eyes. He desperately tried to rub the pain away, but each movement only seemed to intensify the searing heat. “SO HOT!” he cried, his voice cracking as he continued to writhe in pain.

Nearby, Micky wasn’t faring any better. “FUCK THIS SHIT!” he roared, his face twisted in a grimace as he sprinted to the kitchen. In a panic, he grabbed a jug of water and poured it over his genitals, hoping for relief. Instead, the water only exacerbated the reaction, spreading the cream further and igniting a new wave of unbearable burning.

Micky’s eyes widened in shock, his usual cocky demeanor nowhere to be seen. His mouth opened in a silent scream before he bellowed, “IT’S BURNING! IT’S BURNING EVEN MORE! AHHHH HELP!!!!” The big man, usually so full of bravado, crumpled to the floor, clutching himself as if to protect what little dignity he had left. His face was a mask of pure agony, sweat pouring down his brow as he rocked back and forth, his muscular frame now reduced to a pathetic, trembling mess. The sight was almost pitiful—almost.

Silla couldn’t help but relish the sight of Micky, the man who thought his towering two-meter figure would make any woman swoon, now brought low by a simple cream. His eyes were wild with panic, his lips quivering as he mouthed silent pleas for the pain to stop. His once arrogant expression was now twisted into one of sheer desperation, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he tried in vain to soothe the burning sensation.

Drew wasn’t faring much better. “It’s getting worse!” he shouted, his voice filled with disbelief. He began to move his hips back and forth, trying to find some relief from the relentless pain. “Why is it getting worse? What the hell is happening?!” His voice cracked with each word, the panic evident as he looked around for answers that weren’t there.

Micky’s frustration turned to confusion as he groaned, “It’s like someone set fire to my balls! What the fuck is this?!” He gritted his teeth, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an explanation, or better yet, an escape.

Silla, barely able to contain her satisfaction, finally stepped forward and offered a solution. “I’ll call Dr. Hodenberg’s office,” she said, feigning concern as she reached for the phone. After a brief conversation, she hung up and turned to the men, her expression carefully neutral. “The clinic is filled with injured Watchdogs,” she said, her voice tinged with false sympathy. “I’ll drive there to get the medicine, but unfortunately, women aren’t allowed to drive.” She let the words hang in the air, watching the realization dawn on their faces.

Alif, still writhing on the floor, shouted in desperation, “Take the car keys! DRIVE NOW!! GET THE MEDICINE, BUT NO ONE CAN KNOW YOU’RE DRIVING!” He fumbled with his pocket, tossing the keys toward Silla, his face a mix of pain and fear. He knew he was breaking one of the island’s strictest rules, but the agony left him no choice.

Silla caught the keys with a smirk, savoring the moment. “Don’t worry, Alif,” she said sweetly. “I’ll make sure no one knows. Just sit tight. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The next day, the three humiliated men met at the gold miner's favorite bar "The Harpoon", where Sebastian wanted them to celebrate the successful business year with his leading co-workers. "That was something, yesterday!", Micky growled. He was still holding a grudge on Alif, thinking it was Alif's fault that they had been exposed to some kind of allergic shock in his gym. Drew was sitting next to him, and it seemed he was still suffering a bit (he touched his crotch from time to time, making a miserable face). "I wonder what has taken your wife so long to get Hodenberg's medicine?"

 "She told me that the doc's office was crammed with injured men, many of them Watchdogs!", Alif replied. "She had to wait, thinking our case was not so urgent ..."

"Not so urgent??", Micky roared. "That itching and stinging on my dick almost drove me crazy! It's still ... uh ... anyway ... why were there so many injured men? I don't get it!" - "I don't know...", Alif muttered. "It's really strange!" - "I've heard there was some trouble at Gabriel's mansion!", Drew interjected. "One of my friends is a Watchdog ... he told me something about a big fight with some intruders in awkward costumes ... but he couldn't tell me more!" - "A fight ... at Gabriels's place? That's impossible!", Micky was sure. "That would never happen! It's the best-guarded place on the island!" - "That would never happen, huh?", Drew asked back. "And what about those posters you see everywhere around?" - "What posters?", Alif asked. He and Micky hadn't seen them. "Doesn't matter", Drew said. "The Watchdogs and some school boys already removed most of them! Just some silly protest by one or two crazy bitches!" - "Protesting women? Here? You're really talking a lot of bullshit today", Micky snorted. "Archie, pour us another drink!" The barkeeper hurried to provide his best customers with some fresh glasses filled with Jack Daniels Whiskey. Just then, Sebastian started his speech. "A toast to the best gold miners of the planet!", he shouted, and the crowd of miners cheered. "Behind us lies the best year we could ever celebrate so far! We brought many tons of gold to the daylight from the Phallus Rock, and discovered many more veins of gold! And the biggest vein was found by our best buddy sitting over there ... Micky and his team!" Micky straightened proudly, and his friends patted him on the shoulders and congratulated him.

across the bar, and the crowd of miners roared in approval, their fists pumping in the air.

Sebastian looked out over the sea of men, all clad in flannel shirts and blue jeans, their belts cinched tight, and boots scuffed from long hours in the mines. They were rough, they were tough, and they took pride in their work. To them, they weren’t just laborers—they were the lifeblood of Gavin’s Rock, the ones who brought wealth and power to the island.

“And we also owe a big thanks to Alif!” Sebastian continued, his gaze shifting to the young man. “He’s a smart one, using a method that’s found us new veins. With Micky on leadership and Alif on the brains, we can do anything!”

Alif forced a smile, acknowledging the cheers that followed Sebastian’s words. The truth was far less glamorous—his success was more a stroke of luck than any real skill. Back in engineering school, Alif had barely scraped by, more interested in football than in his studies. But here, in this room, surrounded by men who saw him as a hero, he wasn’t about to reveal the truth. He simply nodded, playing the role they expected of him.

Sebastian’s voice rose again, cutting through the noise. “And now, let’s welcome…the entertainment!” He gestured toward the entrance as a group of female slaves was led into the room. The atmosphere shifted instantly—the rowdy cheers grew louder, more primal, as the men turned their attention to the women. Their gazes were hungry, predatory, as if the women were nothing more than prey brought in to satisfy their basest desires.

Sebastian, observing the scene, allowed himself a satisfied smile before addressing the room one last time. “Sadly, I can’t join you all at this party tonight… There’s an urgent meeting of the Triumvirate, thanks to Koller and Chase’s stupidity. But don’t worry—I’ll see you all again soon!”

With that, Sebastian gave a final wave and turned to leave, his footsteps echoing as he exited the bar. The men barely noticed his departure, too caught up in the festivities that were now fully underway. The room buzzed with the sound of clinking glasses, loud laughter, and the leering comments directed at the women who had been brought in for their entertainment.

The slave girls were all very young and inexperienced, but seeing the crowd of men going wild, they realized what would happen to them. Some of them couldn't help but start to cry, while others just accepted their fate, and sacrificed themselves, knowing it would just make the men more cruel if they resisted. They were all wearing tight bikinis and collars around their neck. Some younger miners couldn't hold back anymore. They started to rip or pull down the girl's bras and panties, and the prominent bulges in their jeans showed how much Sebastian's gift aroused them. Alif had never imagined the party to take such a turn. "This island is crazy! A real paradise for men! This is the place where we can let our animal instincts out ... without having to worry about the consequences!" A surge of excitement flooded through him. Three of the most beautiful slave girls were brought to Micky, Alif and Drew. "The Asian one for you, Alif?", Micky asked, grinning. Alif smiled viciously. "Thanks, but I have that at home! I'll try the blond one with the big boobs!" - He blinked his eyes to his friends. "Men need variety, always try something else!"  "Okay, then I'll have the Asian bitch!", Drew agreed. Micky, meanwhile, pulled a Latina to him. "Babe, I have something nice for you! Wait ... Archie, hand me that bottle of champagne!" He took the bottle, shook it, said "Uuuh, baby, it's coming!", pointed the bottle at the girl, and abruptly removed the cork. The champagne sprayed into the girl's face, and she let out a suppressed shriek. "Hahahahaha!", Micky laughed. "Love to cover their faces with my juice! - Enjoy it, babe, it's expensive ... and almost as wholesome as my own juice!"

Alif laughed, too, while he touched the breast of the blond girl next to him. "I love them, babe... they're fantastic!" The girl felt desperate, and tried to enforce a smile while Alif pulled down her bra, and kissed her right nipple. For a second, he thought of Silla, but he immediately suppressed the idea. "It's just us men having fun! We earned it! She gotta get used to it ... maybe I can convince her to have a threesome some day! Having two girls ..." The thought made Alif even more horny. "I love this island!", he cheered internally.

Silla peered through her binoculars from the shadows outside The Harpoon, her heart sinking as she caught sight of Alif inside. He was leaning in close to a blonde girl, he was in heaven. Silla clenched her fists, her anger boiling beneath the surface. Tonight was supposed to be about liberation, but seeing Alif indulge in the very culture they were fighting against made her resolve even stronger.

Dressed in her black hoodie and the signature BDSM Sisters attire, Silla adjusted her mask as Bianca made a few last-minute tweaks to her own outfit. The dark, form-fitting clothes were designed for stealth and intimidation, blending them into the shadows as they prepared for the strike. Madelyn, sensing the tension, moved closer to Silla, her voice low and concerned. “Is Alif inside? Do you want to get him out before Dinah throws the smoke?”

Silla’s eyes hardened as she shook her head. “No, he needs to learn,” she replied, her voice cold with determination. The girls were ready, each of them armed not only with their weapons but with the fury of the oppressed. “I just need to adapt with limp dick husband, lol. Well’s he’s stupid so I’m looking forward to his reaction when he knew he couldn’t have his precious erection anymore..”

Inside The Harpoon, the atmosphere was thick with toxic masculinity. The Goldminers were in high spirits, their voices raised in a rowdy chant:

“Manly Goldminers, diggin’ deep and true,

Through the Phallus Rock, where the gold runs blue.

Sweat and steel, the island’s finest breed,

We break the earth, and the earth does bleed.

No time for fear, we’re the island’s pride,

Strength and brawn, we never hide.

Whiskey in our veins, gold in our hands,

We rule this island, we own these lands.”

The chant grew louder, the men banging their fists on the tables in rhythm. Micky, caught up in the revelry, roughly pushed a Latina girl onto the couch, his eyes gleaming with predatory intent. “You’re such a delicate little girl,” he sneered, his hand moving to touch her as if she were nothing more than an object for his pleasure. Micky’s giant penis ready to penetrate her.

Alif, oblivious to the world outside, was readying himself to join in on the "fun" when suddenly…

BOMB.

A deafening explosion rocked the bar, and within seconds, thick white smoke began to billow out, filling the room. It spread rapidly, curling around the legs of the tables, swirling in the air, and seeping into every corner of the bar. The smoke was dense, almost suffocating, as it wound its way through the crowd. The men’s boisterous chants turned to confused shouts as they struggled to see through the haze.

“What the hell?” Alif coughed, his eyes watering as he tried to wave the smoke away. But something was wrong—he could feel it immediately. The familiar sensation of arousal that had been coursing through him just moments before was suddenly, inexplicably gone. He looked down in shock, realizing with horror that his dick was limp, completely unresponsive.

Micky, who had been just as eager moments before, felt the same horrifying realization dawn on him. His hands went to his crotch, a look of disbelief spreading across his face. “What the fuck?!” he gasped, trying desperately to will his body to respond, but it was no use. Panic spread quickly through the room as other men began to notice the same unsettling phenomenon—every last one of them was suddenly, humiliatingly, impotent.

“What’s happening?” one of them cried out, stumbling through the smoke, his voice tinged with fear. “Why can’t I…?”

Another man, his face pale, shouted, “I can’t feel anything! What’s going on?!”

The room was a chaos of confusion and desperation, men clawing at their pants, trying to make sense of what was happening. The once-powerful and boastful Goldminers were reduced to a panicked mess, their bravado shattered in an instant.

And then, through the swirling smoke, four silhouettes emerged, standing tall on top of the bar. The smoke parted just enough to reveal them—four women, in black, their faces obscured by masks, their voices distorted by voice changers. But there was no mistaking who they were.

“Hello, Goldminers,” Silla’s voice cut through the chaos, calm and deadly. “What a party. Did you think these women were your prey? We’re not prey. We’re human. We will fight, and we brought you a little present.”

The men stared up at them in shock, the reality of the situation slowly dawning on them as Silla continued. “Well, boys, the thing I just threw is a ‘deerection bomb’. You’ve already felt the effects, right? It cuts off blood flow to your precious dicks and inhibits testosterone. You can’t get an erection, no matter how aroused you are. So, say goodbye to the ‘enjoyment’ you were planning.”

The panic in the room escalated as the men realized the full extent of what had been done to them. They were powerless, their greatest weapon against women now rendered useless.

Bianca stepped forward, pulling out a bag filled with weapons and tossing them to the female slaves who had been cowering in fear just moments before. “Women, let’s fight back and make sure these Goldminers never touch us again!” she called out, her voice filled with righteous fury.

The women, emboldened by the sight of their captors’ vulnerability, grabbed the weapons with newfound strength. The tables had turned, and the once-feared Goldminers were now at the mercy of those they had sought to dominate

Sebastian had been very generous: There were more slave girls than miners in the bar, so that the best of his men could have two girls for his amusement if they wanted. Now that generosity formed the basis of a disaster. More and more girls took clubs or batters from Bianca, encouraging the remaining girls to join their fight. "Smash it between their legs!", Bianca advised every girl who took a weapon. "Those impotent bastards won't have use for their balls so soon anyway!" But many of the girls were not used to fight, and they hesitated, facing the muscular miners. Bianca realized she had to convince them to join the battle. "This is our chance! Those idiots are busy worrying about their limp cocks! They're confused and baffled! Attack them NOW!" With those words, she grabbed a batter, and slammed it right between a young miner's legs who was examining his unresponsive dick, crushing not only his nuts, but also some of his fingers. "AAAAARGHHH! OUUUW! UAAAAH!", the guy screamed as he crumpled on his knees, and cried and puked at the same time. Some of the older miners, however, were not so easy to bring down. They punched some girls out of their way before they could attack them. "It's a rebellion!" - "A slave rebellion! Get them!", some men shouted, while others used bar stools or broken bottles to defend themselves. Archie, the barkeeper, reached for a gun he kept in a drawer below the bar, but Dinah noticed it before he could fire it. She saw the half-emptied champagne bottle Micky had left on the bar, grabbed it, and smashed it into Archie's balls from behind, letting the barkeeper make a choked, pathetic sound, and collapse on the floor holding his crotch. "Bingo!", Dinah cheered. She decided she had earned a reward for this successful strike, and drank the rest of the champagne from the bottle. "Cheers to the BDSM girls!", she toasted. Then she picked up Archie's gun from the ground. "I'll better take that! You boys can't handle such things!"

 

At the same time, across the chaotic room, Madelyn spotted Drew Starkey. A sly smirk curled her lips as she recognized him immediately. Drew had been her classmate at Gavin’s Rock Prep School, and he had always harbored a crush on her—the so-called princess of Gavin’s Rock. But Drew had never stood a chance against Chase Routledge, the man who eventually claimed her. Now, here he was, looking every bit the frightened boy she remembered, though his eyes were wild with a mix of fear and anger.

“You’re all crazy!” Drew screamed, shoving an Asian girl aside as his frustration boiled over. He was ready to lash out, to reclaim some semblance of control in a situation that had spiraled far beyond his grasp. His fist flew toward Madelyn, but she was faster. With a swift, practiced swing of her stick, she struck Drew right between the legs, her aim precise and devastating.

“Ah, Drew, right?” Madelyn’s voice was taunting, almost playful as Drew doubled over, a look of sheer agony spreading across his face.

“ARGHHH! BITCH!!! What the hell... arghhhh!” Drew screamed, his voice cracking as the pain radiated from his groin throughout his body. He staggered, his hands instinctively moving to clutch his aching crotch, his face contorted in disbelief and suffering. “Fuck you! How do you know my name? Arghhhhhh!” His voice was tinged with both panic and confusion as he struggled to process what was happening.

The pain in his balls was unlike anything he had ever felt—a sharp, debilitating ache that brought him to his knees. His vision blurred, and for a moment, all he could do was focus on the intense, burning pain that pulsed with every beat of his heart. His legs trembled, barely able to support his weight, and his mind raced as he tried to understand how the situation had turned so quickly against him.

“You crazy slut!” he spat out, though the words were weak, lacking the venom he had intended.

Madelyn chuckled darkly, twisting his arm behind his back with a smooth, effortless motion, rendering him helpless. “Sttt, shut up. Don’t blame me. You tried to hurt that girl. BDSM Sisters are your angels of death,” she whispered, her voice cold and merciless as she leaned in closer.

Drew winced, his face a mask of pain as Madelyn applied more pressure, forcing him to the ground. “You crazy ass bitch!” he groaned, struggling in vain against her grip.

Madelyn’s smile widened, filled with a sadistic glee. “Don’t call me a bitch. You’re the bitch here, Drew. Just bitching and can’t fight back. What? Those balls not giving you the strength you thought they would?”

With a quick, calculated movement, Madelyn pulled Drew’s legs apart, forcing him into a vulnerable position. She grabbed him by the collar, dragging his trembling body across the floor with surprising ease. Drew’s attempts to resist were feeble, his strength sapped by the pain. Without hesitation, Madelyn slammed his groin hard against a column in the center of the bar. The impact was brutal, a sharp thud echoing through the room as Drew let out a guttural scream “AAAAAAAAAAAA”

“Is it hurt, boy?” Madelyn sneered, watching with satisfaction as Drew’s face twisted in agony, his eyes wide with a mixture of pain and terror. He was powerless, completely at her mercy, and there was nothing he could do to stop the onslaught

Drew felt as if he was choking on his own balls. "Ourghh... you bitch ... who are you ... we will find you ... the Watchdogs will find you, and your friends ... torture you ... ruin your cunt ... AAAARGH!" Madelyn had pulled on his legs again, and his already bruised balls were flattened on the column that was, ironically, often used to display some tied girls on them during a party. "Shut up, moron! You never learn, huh? This time it's US who ruin YOUR genitals!", Madelyn sneered. "I wonder how much more your cracked eggs can take before they burst!" Feeling the column crushing his balls for a third time, Drew started to tear up. He cursed himself for his weakness, but he couldn't help it. His sight blurred, and he felt like throwing up. "No... stop... please...", he begged. "You're lucky that I have a lot to do today!", Madelyn smiled, and pulled on his legs a fourth time, as hard as she could. Drew had no energy to cry anymore. He just moaned weakly, and he passed out.

Alif stood amidst the chaos, still no girl had attacked him. He had the blond, naked girl next to him in a wrestling hold, and slowly retreated behind the bar. To his surprise, he suddenly saw Dinah there (without recognizing her in her costume, of course), holding a gun. But before she could point it at him, he grabbed her arm with his free hand. She struggled, but he was too strong. "Let go off me, you bastard!", Dinah hissed, but Alif bent her wrist painfully, and she was about to lose the gun. "Girls are no match for a miner!", he claimed. "See, I can fight you with just one arm!" He turned to the blond slave girl. "And you, don't move, or I'll break your neck!" Right then, another costumed figure approached him, but it looked small and fragile, and didn't even carry a weapon. "I can also take on three of you!", the athletic man boasted. Finally, Dinah gave in, and dropped the gun. "If I get it now, I'll be the hero of the day!", Alif realized.

Silla knew what her husband was capable of. Alif might have been stupid, but his ego was a volatile force that could make him dangerous, especially when he felt cornered. As the chaos unfolded around them, Silla slid across the floor and kicked the gun out of Alif’s reach, sending it skittering across the room. Without hesitation, she followed up with a powerful uppercut aimed right between his legs, her fist connecting with a sickening thud. “D, take the gun!” she shouted, using the initial to keep their identities hidden amidst the turmoil.

Alif’s grip on Dinah and the blonde girl loosened instantly, his hands flying to clutch his groin as he doubled over in pain. Dinah didn’t waste a second, diving for the gun and securing it in her grip. Silla stood over Alif, watching him struggle, his face twisted in agony. He was pathetic, a far cry from the man he pretended to be.

“ARGHHH!” Alif screamed, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He glared up at her with a mixture of pain and fury. “You bitch…” he growled, his voice trembling. “I’m gonna fuck you!”

Silla’s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at him. “Using what?” she taunted, her voice dripping with contempt. “Your dick couldn’t even get up. You’re just a useless man. You can’t do a thing, can you? Am I right? You rely on your manhood, but you’ve lost it. You can’t get an erection for the rest of your life. You’re just a useless blob of muscle.”

The words were a lie, but they had the desired effect. Panic flashed across Alif’s face, his anger boiling over into desperation. “TURN IT BACK! BRING BACK MY ERECTION!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he lunged at her, his fist flying.

Silla saw the punch coming and easily dodged, her movements quick and fluid. She jumped onto the bar table, her boots landing with a heavy thud as she moved to higher ground. Alif, fueled by rage and pain, tried to follow, but his body betrayed him. The agony in his groin was too much, and he stumbled, nearly collapsing to the floor.

Breathing heavily, Alif struggled to stand, his flannel shirt now unbuttoned, revealing the sweat-soaked undershirt beneath. Silla stared at him, but this wasn’t her husband anymore. The man before her was a pathetic shell, stripped of the power he once wielded over her.

“You’re just a useless man without your manhood,” she spat, her voice filled with a venom that even surprised herself. “I hope your wife knows how useless you are. I hope she realizes she has all the power to castrate you while you sleep. Yes, Asian boy, I’ll spread my message across the island, and who knows—maybe your wife is one of the girls who gets my message. I’ll plant it in her mind, your weakness. I can already hear her mocking you, asking why you can’t get it up. Maybe she’ll satisfy herself with a machine, because even a dildo could perform better than you. She’ll laugh at your limp dick, and maybe, just maybe…CREZZ, she’ll cut that limp dick off and shove it into your mouth.”

The fury in Silla’s voice was clear, fueled by the betrayal she felt, not just because Alif had cheated on her but because of how he had harassed the blonde girl. Her words cut deep, and Alif’s face twisted in fury and fear.

“SHUT UP! KNOW YOUR PLACE!” Alif roared, his voice shaking as he tried to regain control, but there was nothing behind his words—no power, no threat.

Silla’s anger only grew. She stepped forward, raising her foot and driving her boot into his groin with all the force she could muster. Alif let out a strangled scream, his body crumpling under the assault. But Silla didn’t stop there. The rage that had been building inside her for years took over. She punched Alif square in the face, her knuckles connecting with a satisfying crack, then drove her knee into his balls twice more, each blow harder than the last.

Alif’s eyes widened in terror, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. He was completely at her mercy, and for the first time, he realized it. As Silla raised her knee to strike again, she caught sight of the sheer terror in his eyes. His body shuddered violently, and in his utter humiliation, he lost control, wetting himself. The dark stain spread across his jeans, the smell of urine mixing with the sweat and smoke in the room.

“Pathetic,” Silla muttered, the disgust evident in her voice. She pushed him away, watching as he collapsed into a pitiful heap on the floor. For a moment, something flickered inside her—a sliver of the love she once had for him. But it was quickly snuffed out by the overwhelming anger and disappointment that now defined their relationship.

Maybe, deep down, she still cared for him, but that didn’t matter now. The man lying before her was no longer the husband she had once known. He was just another broken man on an island that thrived on the illusion of strength, and Silla had finally seen through it.

Alif teared up, realizing how humiliating his defeat had been, and also because of the panic about his allegedly lost ability to get an erection. He felt emasculated and broken. The blond girl he had harassed had watched his fight with Silla silently, almost without an apparent reaction, and now she bent over him, spat in his face, and walked away without uttering a single word. Alif covered his wet bulge with his hands, and turned his face away from the girls, wishing he could just vanish from the earth's surface. Archie, the barkeeper, had meanwhile recovered from the worst pain in his life, and tried to get up from the ground with shaking legs, holding on to the bar. Silla noticed it, took the empty champagne bottle from the table, and slammed it casually on Archie's head. "We didn't ask for another round", she told him, and that was the last thing he heard before he mumbled "Okay, Miss", and passed out.

Of all men, Micky's reaction was the fastest. He figured immediately that Bianca was distributing the weapons to the slaves, and that he had to stop this to bring the situation under control. He ran towards Bianca, agile like a professional football player, but unstoppable and reckless. Towering over almost everyone else in the room, he sent several fighting or fleeing girls down with a hard punch or kick when he passed them. From one of them, he snatched a batter, and pointed it at Bianca while he came close to her. "You! You will die! I will put an end to this!", he roared.

Micky Van de Ven towered over everyone in the room, his height and bulk making him an imposing figure. But Bianca, undeterred, simply laughed as she reached for another whiskey bottle, smashing it against the edge of the bar to fashion a crude weapon. The jagged glass glinted dangerously in the dim light, but her smile was even more dangerous. “You’re a big boy... but I’ve seen worse. I’ve seen the worst of men, and I know no man deserves to keep his manhood,” she sneered, taking a step closer to the towering Goldminer.

Micky’s face twisted into a snarl as he tightened his grip on the bat in his hand. “I’m MICKY VAN DE VEN, GOLDMINERS! YOU’RE NOT GONNA SURVIVE!” he roared, his voice echoing through the room like thunder. With surprising speed for a man of his size, Micky swung the bat at Bianca, who barely managed to dodge the initial blow. But he was quicker than she anticipated, and his next swing caught her on the left side of her body, sending her crashing into a table.

Bianca gasped as pain shot through her, the force of the impact knocking the breath out of her lungs. Micky loomed over her, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. He grabbed the broken whiskey bottle from her hand, his grip crushing the glass until it cracked further under his strength. “Little girls shouldn’t play with Goldminers,” he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. “Let’s see that pretty face of yours.” He reached down, ready to rip off her mask.

Bianca’s mind raced, the fog of pain threatening to overwhelm her. She had underestimated him—months of captivity had taken their toll, leaving her weaker than she had been before. But as Micky’s hand moved toward her face, something inside her snapped. She forced herself to take a deep breath, steeling herself against the pain. She remembered the agony Gabriel had put her through, the countless nights of torture, and the deep wells of resilience she had discovered within herself.

If she could survive Gabriel, she could survive this giant.

Just as Micky’s fingers brushed her mask, Bianca struck. Her hand shot up and grabbed his crotch, her fingers closing around his balls with a vice-like grip. Micky froze, his eyes widening in shock. “Bigger the balls, easier to grab,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice low and deadly. And then, without a shred of mercy, she squeezed—hard.

The bat fell from Micky’s hand, clattering to the floor as his body went rigid with pain. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his hands instinctively moving to pry her fingers away, but she only squeezed tighter, her nails digging into the denim of his jeans. Micky’s knees buckled, and a strangled cry finally escaped his lips as the pain became too much to bear.

“What’s the matter, boy? Scream!” Bianca taunted, her voice filled with a savage satisfaction. She twisted her grip, her knuckles turning white from the force. Micky’s face contorted in agony, 

But even in agony and without a weapon in his hand, Micky was still dangerous. Focusing on his wrath, he tried hard to ignore the pain in his squeezed soft man eggs, and lay his hands around Bianca's throat. "We will ... see ... who will... go down ... first", he groaned, and madness flickered in his eyes. Bianca gasped, struggling for air, and her grip around Micky's testicles lost a part of its deadly strength. Her eyes bulged out, and her mouth opened for a strangled cry for help. "Break ... his nuts ... I must ... crush them ... my only chance", she said to herself, but fighting for her life, she didn't have enough power in her hands anymore. She also lost control over her legs, and a dark layer seemed to cover her eyes, due to the lack of oxygen. She saw a blurred version of Micky's grinning face, and nothing else seemed to matter at that moment.

Bianca let go of Micky’s balls, her hand trembling slightly from the effort. Micky, though momentarily paralyzed by the pain, wasn’t done yet. With a furious growl, he surged forward, ready to end her, but Madelyn, quick on her feet, shoved him hard. The force sent Micky stumbling backward, It doesn’t enough to knock him out but enough to make him let Bianca go.

“That man is crazy strong!” Madelyn panted, her voice a mix of awe and frustration.

Dinah, seeing the danger, quickly pulled Bianca out of Micky’s reach. “B, stay with me,” she urged, checking Bianca’s breath, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against Bianca's skin.

“I’m still here,” Bianca replied, her voice steady despite the exhaustion that threatened to overtake her.

“Take a rest, we’ll handle that gorilla!” Dinah reassured her, determination hardening her features as she turned to face Micky.

But Micky wasn’t about to go down easily. With a roar, he charged at Madelyn, his massive arms swinging with deadly force. Madelyn tried to dodge, but Micky’s reach was too great, and he slammed her to the ground with a sickening thud. By sheer luck, Madelyn landed on the unconscious body of another man, cushioning her fall just enough to avoid serious injury.

“How come a strong man like him wasn’t a Watchdog?” Madelyn gasped, struggling to catch her breath.

Micky laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. “Hahaha! The Watchdogs wanted me, but my goal has always been to be a Goldminer. We’re the strongest. We take Mother Nature’s virginity to steal her gold. It’s the most manly job possible. WE FUCKING RAPE MOTHER NATURE!” he boasted, his chest puffing out with pride. He raised his foot, ready to stomp Madelyn into the floor. “Die, you bitch!”

But before his foot could come down, Silla slid in, grabbing Madelyn and pulling her just inches away from Micky’s deadly stomp. Instead of crushing Madelyn, Micky’s boot landed squarely on the chest of one of his own unconscious employees, causing a sickening crunch. “DON’T RUN! FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!” Micky bellowed, his face twisted with rage.

Dinah rushed to help Silla, and together they launched an attack on Micky, their fists flying. But Micky, despite his size, was surprisingly agile. He dodged their punches with ease and pushed them away with brutal strength, sending both women staggering back. “Now, the two of you…” Micky sneered, his voice dripping with menace. “I can’t fuck you, but I can kill you. Now... who’s first? I’ll break you slowly until you tell me HOW THE FUCK I CAN GET AN ERECTION AGAIN! YOU WOMEN DON’T KNOW THE SACRED THING ABOUT ERECTION! THAT IS MEN’S PRIDE” Micky’s voice was a primal roar, his desperation and fury melding into something monstrous.

Bianca, watching her friends struggle, felt a surge of determination. They needed her—she couldn’t let them down. Each of them had faced their own battles, their own struggles in a world dominated by men who thought they ruled everything. Women born in war, in the light of cities, on isolated islands—all had faced cruelty, hardship, and the suffocating weight of a society that valued their subjugation. But they were strong, each in their own way, and now they were united. It was a beautiful thing, being a woman, and it was time to show Micky just how powerful that could be.

With a burst of energy, Bianca pushed herself up and grabbed a bat lying nearby. She charged at Micky, her resolve burning hotter than the pain in her body. “HOW CAN YOU STILL MOVE?!” Micky shouted, his voice tinged with disbelief. No man had ever recovered from his attacks so quickly, let alone a woman. But Bianca was undeterred. She pushed through the pain and slammed the bat directly into Micky’s balls with all her might.

The sound of the impact echoed through the bar, a sickening thud that seemed to freeze time for a moment. Micky’s eyes bulged in their sockets, his mouth gaping open in a silent scream. The pain was excruciating, more intense than anything he had ever experienced. It was as if his entire body was being crushed from the inside, the agony radiating from his groin and tearing through his nerves like fire. His legs buckled, and the giant of a man crumpled to his knees, his hands trembling as they hovered helplessly over his crotch.

“Girls, finish him off!” Bianca shouted, her voice fierce and commanding. Micky was down, but he wasn’t out yet, and they couldn’t afford to give him a chance to recover.

Silla moved swiftly, darting behind Micky and wrapping her arms around his thick neck, choking him from behind. With Micky now on his knees, she had the leverage she needed to cut off his air supply. Micky struggled, his hands clawing at her arms, but Silla’s grip was unrelenting.

Dinah, seizing the opportunity, grabbed the broken whiskey bottle she had been eyeing earlier. With precision and fury, she slashed it across Micky’s arm, the jagged glass cutting deep into his flesh. Blood poured from the wound, but Micky’s struggles only grew more desperate as the pain intensified.

Madelyn, not to be outdone, swung her stick with all her strength, smashing it into Micky’s mouth. The force of the blow shattered his teeth, sending blood and shards of teeth spraying across the room. A gurgled cry of pain escaping his mangled mouth.

Micky was immobilized, his once-mighty frame now reduced to a broken, bleeding shell. He was a man who had prided himself on his strength, his dominance, and now he was utterly defeated.

“Fuck it, Van de Ven!” Bianca spat, watching as the giant trembled under their combined assault. Silla, her breath heavy but controlled, managed a grim smile.

“Squeezing has always been the best method,” Silla said, her voice dark with satisfaction. “You can feel his balls in the palm of your hand, it gives you power, the pain seems lasting... B, squeeze his stupid giant balls.”

Bianca’s smile returned, a fierce glint in her eyes as she looked down at the now-neutralized giant. She didn’t hesitate—she reached down, grabbing Micky’s already battered balls, and squeezed with all the strength she had left. The sensation of his flesh yielding under her grip, the way his body convulsed in agony, filled her with a cold, relentless satisfaction.

Micky's eyes welled with tears, desperation etched on his face. "Please... I’m sorry," he pleaded, his voice cracking with anguish. Silla's laughter echoed coldly in the room. "All men are the same," she scoffed. Bainca's ruthless strike landed with a sickening crunch, causing Micky to cry out in agony. "ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" His scream pierced the air as pain nearly overwhelmed him. Blood splattered across his jeans, a brutal testament to his suffering. As Micky writhed, Silla seized a shard of the broken whiskey bottle. "Let's send a message to all the men," she declared with a menacing grin.

Rudy and Cole were the first Watchdogs to show up at the "Harpoon". A mysterious call for help had reached them, but the person who had called them, probably a miner, was apparently interrupted, and the connection was lost. Now the two men entered the bar, and were stunned by the horrifying scene they saw. Dozens of miners were lying on the ground, not a single man was standing, not even the barkeeper, who was unconscious, and lay curled up behind the bar. Some men were rolling around, holding their groin, but most of them were lying on the floor like dead bodies. Rudy gulped. "Must've been a hard bar fight! I know miners are like this, beating up each other when they're drunk, but I never saw it escalating to this!" He turned to Cole, who was shivering uncontrollably, and now was even biting in his finger. "Cole? Man, what's up? Never seen any blood? C'mon, I know you're a tough guy, it's just a bar fight, although it got out of control, it seems ..." - "No... no... the women ... the Rock Witches ... BDSM ... the Sisters ... they've done that!", Cole stuttered, sweating and shaking. Rudy tried to calm him. "No way, man! How can two or three bitches beat up all those big guys like this? Come to your senses!" - "I don't know ... I don't know ... maybe you're right ...", Cole whispered. Then they heard one of the miners groan: "He's right ... it was ... a slave rebellion ... women in ... strange costumes ... with masks ... came and gave them weapons ... they attacked ... our manhood ... a gas bomb ... no erection ... urghhh..." The miner passed out again. Cole stood there for a moment, and then a deafening scream came out of him. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!", the traumatized Watchdog yelled, and ran out of the bar like a rabbit chased by a pack of wolves. "Cole! Damn ... Come back here!", Rudy shouted, but his colleague was out of his mind, and already a hundred meters away. Rudy sighed. "It's getting more and more crazy here! Have to inform Chase and the others..." He still couldn't believe what he saw when he looked around. This couldn't be true - all this done by a bunch of women?! After a while, he recognized the giant lying on the upper end of the bar: Micky! He had blood on his face ... on his crotch ... and ... Rudy almost puked when he came closer. Micky's was naked above the waist, and there were some letters of blood, carved in his impressive abs: "FREE ALL WOMEN OR LOSE YOUR DICKS". Rudy's face was now white, and he wished he had run away like Cole before he saw this. Staggering, he had to hold on to the bar. "I wonder what Gabriel will say to this", he thought.