Gavin's Rock (Chapter 13) - Come Back Home

The Island of VOC.

The VOC Island, often called Trade Island, was a crucial hub just eight hours by ship from the brutal, patriarchal regime of Gavin's Rock. Erin walked through its narrow streets, her heart pounding in anticipation. Freedom still felt surreal after escaping Gavin’s Rock with the help of the BDSM Sisters, but recent rumors gnawed at her — whispers that the sisters had been killed. Despite the tension, Erin had received conflicting information — a flicker of hope that the sisters were alive.

Her feet quickened as she neared a small house on the edge of town. Kevin’s house. Kevin, the only male ally of the rebellion. She pushed through the door, her breath shallow with fear and hope. "Kevin, is it true? Are Silla and the others here?"

Kevin, standing in the dimly lit room, gave her a grim nod. “Yeah, come in.”

Before he could finish, Erin’s ears caught a familiar voice from another room. Her heart leapt, and she ran, nearly stumbling over her feet, as Silla’s voice filled her with relief. She burst into the room to find Silla, alive and standing, a weary but defiant look in her eyes.

“Silla!” Erin cried, throwing her arms around her savior. Tears stung her eyes as she clung to her. “I heard the news about the defeat of the BDSM Sisters... I didn’t believe it. But... you’re alright!” Her voice cracked, emotions spilling over.

Silla’s hand brushed gently through Erin's hair, a calming touch amidst the chaos. “We’re okay,” she murmured, but Erin could feel the weight behind those words. They had survived, but it had cost them.

Madelyn, sitting nearby, gave a weak smile through her bruises. Her face was pale, and her movements careful, still recovering from the injuries she’d suffered in the mission to rescue Dinah. "Yeah, it took time... but we’re stronger now."

Erin stepped back, her eyes wide with curiosity. "How did you survive?" She glanced at Dinah, whose entrance into the room drew her attention.

Dinah's smile was soft, her body still battered but her spirit unbroken. “A mother’s love,” she said with a knowing look toward Kevin. "And Kevin, of course," she added, pointing at him.

Bianca entered the room next, her posture as fierce as ever, though there was a hardness to her eyes that hadn't been there before. She tossed a glance at Kevin, her lips curling into a smirk. "The only male species that’ll survive what’s coming to Gavin’s Rock," she teased, grabbing a banana from the table. With deliberate force, she snapped it in two. "TOTAL EMASCULATION!" she declared, tossing the pieces aside.

Erin’s eyes flickered between them, her heart still racing as Silla began to explain. "Dinah's mother, Emily, had a feeling something was wrong that day. She begged Kevin to sail close to Gavin’s Rock... just to see what was happening. When we jumped into the sea, we were washed to the shore. Kevin and Emily came just in time."

She straightened her back and asked the question that had been burning in her mind since she'd walked through the door. "What’s your next move?"

Silla’s eyes darkened, her determination sharpening as she replied, "We’re going to strike back. Those men won’t know what hit them."

Erin grinned. “Good. I’ve got a piece of news for you. Every woman you’ve ever saved from Gavin’s Rock... they want to go back. They’re ready to fight. We won’t be free until every woman on that island is free. We’ll help you.”

The room fell silent as the sisters exchanged glances. Erin could see the flicker of hope in their eyes.

Bianca was the first to speak. “Then we’ll train you to prepare,” she said, her voice low but firm.

Kevin, leaning against the doorway, crossed his arms and chuckled darkly. “Speaking of training, I think you’re going to find your favorite punching bag here, Silla. Your husband, Alif Rakaprabawa... he’s having a meeting with MANPOWER’s scientists to sell gold.” He paused, letting the weight of the name settle over the room. “Looks like you’re in for a little reunion.”

Silla’s face hardened, a mix of rage and disbelief flickering in her eyes. The name of her betrayer, the man she had once loved, now felt like venom. She clenched her fists, struggling to process the emotions surging within her. But then her lips curled into a cold, dangerous smile. "I’m not his wife anymore."

She straightened her back, her voice fierce and sharp. “Let’s capture him... and kick his fucking balls in.”

Bianca grinned wickedly. "Hell yeah!" The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, their voices filled with a renewed sense of purpose. “CASTRATION. THE BRUTAL ONE!” she was so angry with the men after what happened last time in Gavin’s rock.

The rebellion wasn’t over. It had only just begun.

---

The small speedboat, steered by Wincent, steadily held its course through the rough seas. Alif Rakaprabawa, whose fast career had lead him to become Sebastian's most trusted man, looked pale and nervous. The movements of the boat caused him a severe nausea, and the responsibility of making a great deal for his masters on Gavin's Rock lay heavily on his shoulders. He looked back at the two Watchdogs, Felix and Mark, who accompanied him.

"Ever been to that island before?", Alif asked his guards. "Yeah, sure", Mark replied coolly, combing back his curly brown hair that was ruffled by the wind. "It's one of our main meeting places for secret deals... Closer to the coast than Gavin's Rock." - "I've heard about MANPOWER, but don't know any details", Alif said. "It's more a gang than a company, right?" - "It's basically Henry Redfield's son, Jonah, who formed this gang! His dad supports them financially... They are slowly but surely taking control over Cockville's criminal scene... Drugs, weapons, girls... We think they're a useful contact and ally, but never trust them, they are cunning and ruthless... Never turn your back on them!"

Alif gulped - this information didn't help to fight his nervousness...

When the boat reached the small port of the VOC island, Alif saw several tall, athletic men awaiting them, clad in a kind of uniform: black leather jackets with MANPOWER logo, tight blue jeans, broad belts with a bull-shaped buckle, and heavy combat boots. "They look more like soldiers than mafia or business guys", Alif thought. "Even tougher than most Watchdogs..." He was slightly intimidated, but tried not to show it. After all, he had come as Gavin's Rock's representative, and he had something to offer few men could resist.

"Corbyn Alexander", the vice leader of the MANPOWER introduced himself. "Jonah has some business in Cockville, but he sends his regards! He wanted me to ask how his brother is doing on your island?"

"I think ... he's doing fine... I only saw him a few times... I think he lives in Dr. Koller's house", Alif stuttered. Corbyn smiled. "Yeah... Paul Koller... My old mentor ... He taught me all I know about psychology, strategy and pharmaceuticals... Truly a great man!" - "Yes, of course...", Alif hastened to confirm. "Anyway", Corbyn finished the small talk. "Let's get to business!" He pointed to a couple of big boxes behind him. "Guns, in those big boxes, and material for gas bombs and drugs in the blue ones... Even some radioactive material..." He stopped, and looked at Alif curiously. "Looks like you're expecting to get into trouble?"

Alif shook his head. "We've had some trouble recently, but it's over! A kind of rebellion... Still, Gabriel thinks it's a good idea to invest in security and military power... Gavin's Rock seems to be in the focus of some hostile movements from abroad, recently!" Corbyn nodded. "We've heard rumours about that", he said. "Don't hesitate to hire us if you need support! The Redfields will not let their allies down! We won't forget what Gabriel and Dr. Koller did for us!"

Corbyn’s eyes narrowed as he felt the subtle shift in the air, his instincts sharpened from years of surviving in the criminal underworld. Something was off. His head snapped toward the deck of the speedboat, where the breeze carried an unsettling chill.

“What was that?” Corbyn muttered, eyes darting around, every muscle tensing.

Felix and Mark, the two Watchdogs standing guard, scanned the area, their hands drifting toward the weapons at their belts. But before they could react, four figures emerged from the shadows of the deck. They moved with the grace of predators, stepping forward without hesitation, their black hoods billowing in the wind like the cloaks of death. The hoods were unmistakable—their faces exposed, unapologetically bold.

The BDSM Sisters had arrived.

The two Watchdogs paled instantly. Felix’s jaw dropped, his hand trembling as it hovered near his gun. “No... no way...”

“They’re alive…” Mark whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind, his face drained of color.

Corbyn’s eyes went wide as he took a step back. “The rebellion…? Are they the rebellion?” His shock was clear, his voice wavering as he glanced at Alif, seeking an explanation that didn’t exist.

Alif froze, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes locked on Silla—his wife, or rather, the woman who had once been his wife. Conflicted emotions tore through him. Silla. Alive. Seeing her standing there, defiant and powerful, twisted something deep inside him. For a moment, a flicker of regret passed through his mind. He had missed her, despite everything. The way they ended—it shouldn’t have been like this. But now... he was a high-ranking official, and his loyalty lay with Gavin’s Rock.

“You’re alive…” Alif’s voice cracked as the words stumbled out, filled with disbelief. His heart pounded in his chest, emotions colliding inside him—love, regret, duty. But he couldn’t allow himself to show weakness now.

Silla’s eyes narrowed, and she smiled, her lips curling into a sardonic grin. "Yes, I'm alive," she said coldly, her voice laced with venom. "And now we’re going to finish what we started."

Corbyn’s shock quickly turned to rage. He raised his hand, pointing directly at Silla. “Shoot them! Take them down! NOW!” His voice was sharp, slicing through the tension, but Silla didn’t flinch. In fact, she smiled wider, a chilling, almost amused expression.

“Really, boy? This is my reunion with my stupid husband. Don’t ruin it,” she said sarcastically, her voice dripping with disdain. Her gaze shifted back to Alif, her eyes burning with intensity. Then, without warning, Silla unleashed the full force of her Conqueror Spirit.

It was like a tidal wave of raw power. The air grew thick, almost suffocating, as an invisible pressure weighed down on every man in the vicinity. This time, her spirit was massive—nearly rivaling that of Gabriel himself. Alif staggered backward, clutching his chest as the overwhelming force crashed over him, leaving him gasping for air. His knees buckled, and a sharp, humiliating sensation hit him as he felt his manhood shrink, leaving him limp and powerless.

Felix and Mark didn’t fare any better. Both of them collapsed to their knees, their faces twisted in horror as the energy drained from their bodies. The Conqueror Spirit hit them hard, a debilitating force that left them clutching at their groins, their energy sapped, their strength gone. All they could feel was weakness, their masculinity drained. Felix’s mouth opened in a silent scream, while Mark groaned in agony, his pants visibly soaked as he lost control.

Every man on Corbyn’s side—strong, hardened men who looked more like soldiers than businessmen—was down. They writhed on the ground, faces contorted in humiliation, crying out in agony as they pissed themselves, their jeans darkening with the stain of their defeat. They hadn’t even touched their guns. They couldn’t. The power of Silla’s Conqueror Spirit had rendered them useless.

Only four men left consious: Alif, Corbyn, Mark, and Felix. Corbyn’s face twisted in disbelief as he looked around at his men, limp, crying, and pissing themselves in front of him. “What... what the hell is this?!” he shouted, his voice breaking. He wasn’t from Gavin’s Rock—he didn’t understand what had just happened, but it didn’t matter. His army had crumbled at the feet of these women,.

Bianca didn’t waste any time. In a flash, she leapt forward with the agility of a trained fighter, landing directly in front of Corbyn. Her eyes gleamed with a fierce, unrelenting rage as she looked him up and down, the disdain clear on her face. “You’ve got a dirty business, don’t you?” she hissed.

Meanwhile, Dinah and Madelyn turned their attention to Felix and Mark, who were still crumpled on the ground, struggling to recover from the shock of Silla’s power. The two women shared a look, a silent agreement passing between them, before they moved in.

And then there was Alif, still standing but barely. His eyes remained locked on Silla, a mixture of guilt and disbelief swirling in his gaze. Silla looked at him, her eyes cold and unforgiving. “Miss me?” she asked, her tone mocking, filled with a bitterness that cut deeper than any wound. The conflict in Alif’s heart was clear—he had once loved her, but now he stood on the wrong side of this war, and there was no turning back.

"I... I thought you were ... I heard that ...", Alif stammered, his thoughts totally confused. "Maybe I returned from the dead to seek justice?", Silla said mockingly. "Maybe I'm just a symbol for your conscience, a ghost that will haunt you for what you've done?" She came closer to Alif. "Look what has become of you! You wanted to be a mining engineer, you wanted to raise a family on that cursed island, care for them... And now you're dealing with criminals - drug dealers, women traffickers, rapists... You're using your beloved gold to buy weapons and illegal drugs!" - "I'm just doing what is best for Gavin's Rock ... for our people... It's my job... I have orders...", Alif defended himself. "You're doing what is best for Gabriel and his evil henchmen! You're serving a regime that suppresses, enslaves and abuses girls and women!", Silla shouted angrily. "Come to your senses, Alif! You're blinded by their ideology... their toxic masculinity... I know there's still something good in you! A reminiscence of the man I once loved!" - "I was stupid to ever fall in love with you!", Alif shouted.  "You betrayed me! You became a terrorist! You hurt my colleagues and friends! And you let Rudy Maybank fuck you! Whatever you are, a ghost or a real woman, you won't betray me again!" With these words, Alif took a small batter attached to his belt, and swung it at Silla.

 

At the Same Time

Madelyn and Dinah exchanged a look, their eyes gleaming with a sense of purpose that hadn’t been there before. The fear, the helplessness they once felt—it was all gone, replaced by something raw, something powerful. They had been broken in Gabriel’s mansion, but they had risen from the ashes, stronger, more dangerous than ever. The old versions of them had died in those torturous halls. Now, they were reborn—but with all the fury and essence of the women they had been.

Madelyn’s lip curled into a wicked smile as she cracked her knuckles. "The time where we were overpowered by men... that’s over," she said, her voice low, dripping with a dark satisfaction. "We’re their nightmare now."

Dinah’s laugh was sharp, bitter. "Yeah," she agreed, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Stupid men. They don’t even see it coming."

The excitement coursed through their veins. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they were no longer victims—they were the hunters. The two women felt alive, as if the power surging through them had redefined who they were. Madelyn was still the caring woman she always had been, but there was an edge now—sharper, deadlier. Dinah’s intelligence was still her greatest weapon, but now it was laced with a cold, calculated cruelty she had learned in Gabriel’s brutal world.

Madelyn’s gaze shifted to one of the weapons lying discarded on the ground—a golden telescopic stick. It gleamed in the fading light, as if calling to her, a tool of vengeance begging to be wielded.

Her fingers wrapped around the handle, feeling its weight. The stick extended with a satisfying snap, and she grinned darkly. "You’re going to enjoy this," she murmured, almost to herself. "Thanks for the upgraded weapon." Her original weapon had been lost to the sea, but this one—this one was even better. It felt like justice in her hand, heavy with retribution.

Mark, still struggling to get back on his feet, hadn’t even noticed her approach. His face was twisted in pain, but he was too slow—too weak to react. Madelyn didn’t hesitate. She swung the golden stick with every ounce of strength she had, aiming directly for his groin.

POP. POP.

The sound was brutal, echoing across the deck like the crack of a whip. The force of the blow sent Mark to the ground, his hands instinctively clutching his crotch as he let out a high-pitched scream. His face contorted in agony, his mouth open in a silent cry as he crumpled, his balls shattered beyond repair. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

Mark’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed, his body twitching, his manhood destroyed. He wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon—or ever. The devastation was final, the damage irreparable. “My fuckin balls. You hurt my fuckin balls”

Madelyn stood over him, breathing heavily, her heart pounding with adrenaline. "Lost your manhood," she muttered, her voice dripping with contempt. "Not so tough now, are you?"

“You fucking bitch!” Felix roared, his face twisted with fury as he stumbled toward Madelyn, intent on attacking her.

But before he could take another step, Dinah moved swiftly, her eyes locked on him with deadly precision. She grabbed a crossbow that had been carelessly tossed aside. "Not many arrows left," she murmured, her fingers brushing over the remaining bolts. "But I think I can manage this one."

With a calm, practiced motion, she nocked an arrow and aimed. Felix barely had time to register what was happening before she released the string with a sharp twang. The arrow flew through the air with a deadly hiss, striking its target with pinpoint accuracy.

THUNK.

The arrow buried itself deep into Felix’s dick. The impact was instantaneous and devastating. His eyes went wide, a strangled cry escaping his throat as he fell to his knees, his hands shaking as they hovered over the arrow embedded in his crotch. Blood began to seep through his pants, the shock evident on his face as he tried—and failed—to comprehend the pain tearing through him.

Dinah stepped closer, watching as Felix writhed on the ground, his hands futilely grasping at the shaft of the arrow. "You didn’t think this through, did you?" she asked coldly, her voice devoid of sympathy. "Men like you never do."

Felix’s mouth opened, but no words came out—just a broken whimper as he crumbled completely, his strength sapped, his manhood destroyed in a single, lethal shot.

Madelyn and Dinah stood over the two broken men, their breathing heavy but steady. The thrill of battle surged through them, but it wasn’t just the violence that empowered them—it was the knowledge that they had taken back control. This wasn’t just vengeance. It was justice.

Bianca, however, didn't have such an easy game with Corbyn. He wasn't by far as strong as Jonah Redfield, and not as skilled as Zach Monroe, the best fighter of MANPOWER (except Jonah himself), but there was a reason why he was Jonah's vice!

Bianca aimed a punch directly at Corbyn's groin, but he succeeded to block it. He looked at the other MANPOWER soldiers who were still writhing on the ground. "I don't know how you did that, but I'll find out ... I was Paul Koller's best student! You won't trick us again!" - "Your great Dr. Koller is a fool!", Bianca spat. "My friend M over there almost emasculated him, electrocuted his fucking balls! And reduced him to a brainless horny moron! Male scientists!" She laughed condescendingly. "How can they ever focus on some clear thoughts when their balls force them to think about sex all the time?! I bet D over there will be a better scientist than any man could ever dream of!" - "Ha!", Corbyn shot back while he drew his knife. "Female brains are inferior! Koller has proved that beyond any doubt!" - "I know of his experiments with enslaved girls!", Bianca screamed. Her anger almost let her blood boil. "Many of his victims had permanent brain damage..." She was barely able to dodge Corbyn's next attack. "Damn, he's faster than I expected", she thought. "Aaaaah! Bastard!", she yelled when Corbyn's blade scratched her arm. Only her thick BDSM jacket saved her from being wounded severely. She stumbled back, and fell to the ground. "No match for MANPOWER!", Corbyn sneered, towering over her.

Bianca knew her limits, and this fight was pushing her right up against them. She wasn’t the smartest of the sisters—that had always been Madelyn’s role. Dinah had the tactical mind, the sharp strategy, while Silla had her terrifying Conqueror Spirit. Bianca? She had always relied on brute force. It had been her way through life—fighting, brawling, overpowering her enemies with raw strength and rage. But now, staring into the eyes of Corbyn, the cold, calculating mind of MANPOWER, she knew that brute strength alone wouldn’t be enough.

The fight had started to feel like training, almost mechanical. Corbyn wasn’t just throwing punches or relying on muscle—he was watching her, studying her, like she was some kind of puzzle he needed to solve. His movements were deliberate, his attacks precise. Bianca couldn’t just rely on instinct this time. She had to think.

Her mind raced as she circled him, adrenaline surging through her veins, making every beat of her heart feel louder than the wind whipping around them. Corbyn sneered, his knife gleaming in his hand. He could sense her hesitation, and he aimed to exploit it.

"What?" he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Afraid of me?" He lunged forward, his strong upper body leading the charge, but this time, Bianca didn’t meet him head-on. Instead, she pulled back, her mind working quickly, analyzing him, something she wasn’t used to doing.

Corbyn was stronger than her, that much was clear. His upper arms flexed with every movement, his body heavy with muscle, but there was something else. Something off about the way he moved. Bianca’s eyes narrowed as she studied him, noticing the unevenness in his steps, the slight hesitation in his left leg every time he shifted his weight.

His knee.

Bianca’s mind clicked into place. He has an injury in his knee. She could see it now, how he favored his right leg, putting less pressure on his left. Corbyn was a powerful fighter, but he had a weakness. And Bianca knew exactly how to exploit it.

She grinned, feeling a spark of confidence. This was new for her—thinking, strategizing instead of just rushing in. Her past carelessness had cost them before, but she was evolving. She wasn’t just a blunt weapon anymore. She was learning.

Corbyn noticed the change in her expression and narrowed his eyes, unsure of what she had planned. "What the hell are you smiling at?" he spat, but before he could react, Bianca darted forward, moving faster than he expected.

She slid low, her body dropping into a crouch as she avoided his next strike, and then she punched hard—right into his left knee.

"SHIT!" Corbyn howled, his leg giving out as the pain shot through him like fire. He staggered, his balance lost, and collapsed onto one knee, his face twisted in agony.

Bianca wasted no time. As Corbyn tried to recover, she followed up with a brutal kick to his groin. His knife slipped from his hand as he doubled over, gasping for air, but Bianca wasn’t done. She grabbed the knife from the ground and, with a wild laugh, stabbed it into his left ball, twisting the blade with savage satisfaction.

"Fuck you!" she snarled, her voice filled with bitter triumph as she watched him collapse, clutching his crotch, his face contorted in unimaginable pain.

Corbyn’s body spasmed as he lay on the ground, his hands trembling as they hovered over the wound. The agony in his eyes was undeniable, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps as he tried to process the unbearable pain. He looked up at Bianca, disbelief and fury mingling with the torment in his expression.

But Bianca only laughed—a sharp, cruel sound that echoed over the deck. She watched him writhe beneath her, the once confident and calculating man reduced to nothing more than a whimpering wreck. The tables had turned, and now it was her time to relish the victory.

"How’s that for brains, Corbyn?" she sneered, standing over him.She stepped back, watching as Corbyn continued to squirm, his body trembling as the full weight of his injuries sank in. Bianca had won, not with brute strength alone, but with something more. She had learned. She had adapted. And in the end, that was what made her dangerous.

Alif's hit missed Silla, and he wasn't sure why - it seemed to him he had lost control over his actions to some extent. But instinctively, he felt a mighty aura around her, similar to that he had felt in Gabriel's presence. His arms and legs were shaking more and more, and the batter became useless, and slipped out of his hands. In the chaos around him, he saw Mark and Felix squirming on the ground in agony, clutching their bulges. MANPOWER soldiers lay defeated on the ground - only Corbyn was still fighting Bianca. The second Corbyn fell, however, was the moment where Alif lost all hope. He was caught in a nightmare, and he couldn't avoid Silla's cold stare. She appeared alien to him, like a goddess of revenge who had just assumed the earthly form of his former wife. "What... what is happening here... This... can't be...", he muttered weakly. "You see what's happening to better fighters than you are!", Silla hissed. "And this is just foreshadowing what will happen to all men on Gavin's Rock! Do you want to keep those pathetic organs between your legs, husband? Or should I end them here and now?" Alif was trembling, and to his shame, he peed in his jeans, though he had resisted the first blow of Silla's Conqueror spirit. Silla saw it, and smiled with evil satisfaction. "I knew it! All men are just frightened little boys deep inside!" - "Please... no... spare me... in the name of our past!", Alif begged as she approached him.

Bianca with an intensity that cut through the air. “Bianca, gather the girls who will be training. I have a lesson in mind—a crash course in how to incapacitate men at their most vulnerable, their stupid fucking balls.” Said Silla

Her eyes flickered to Alif, a storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. “Why? Why did you bring me to this forsaken island? Tell me, Alif!” Her voice dripped with frustration as she gripped him, squeezing with an unforgiving pressure.

Alif's voice was a desperate cry, piercing the stillness. “AAAAAAAA AAAAAA! Please, let me go! I love you!” The words tumbled out, laden with panic.

“Love?” Silla’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You don’t love me. Answer my question, or I swear I’ll end the Rakaprabawa lineage right here. It’s so simple—a little pressure, a bit of technique, and your future becomes a memory. How does that sound, Alif?” Her breath was a whisper against his ear, laced with an unsettling power that made his spirit shrink.

The pain was excruciating, both physical and emotional. “I always knew you were the alpha in this relationship,” Alif sobbed, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t take this. My father always said I’m not a real man. I wanted to control you, to mold you into the wife I imagined, but I was wrong. You’ve always been the strong one. Please... forgive me. I just wanted to be a real man... I got carried away.”

Silla leaned closer, her voice low and commanding. “Now you understand who’s truly in charge. You’ll pay for your sins, Alif. You’ll be the punching bag for the women’s self-defense class. Understood?”

The male reader should now imagine to be in Alif's shoes (YES I TALK TO YOU ALL, READER! IMAGINE THE HORROR). You realize you must have passed out, and you wake up on the deck of a ship. You're already standing, someone behind you keeps you in an upright position. You feel your hands are tied behind your back, and you start to panic, disoriented and helpless. You feel a cool sea-breeze on your dick and scrotum, and look down on yourself. You're still wearing a shirt, but you see you're naked below your waist. Your cock and balls are dangling uselessly between your naked trembling thighs. A crowd of girls has assembled around you, staring at you and your exposed manhood. The words "punching bag" echo in your ears, and you start to understand what will happen ... "No! Noooo!", you start to scream, and you try to get free from your restraints. It would be better to jump over the railing into the sea, you think, than to have to endure what would follow now ... But you can't. Then you recognize the cool, merciless voice of your wife... Is she speaking to you? Or to the girls encircling you?

Lol Back to story

The sun had started to set, casting an ominous orange glow across the deck of the ship as Silla, Bianca, Madelyn, and Dinah stood side by side. The weight of the coming battle was heavy on their shoulders, but there was no hesitation in their eyes—only cold determination. Each of them gripped a weapon, ready for what lay ahead. They were no longer victims; they were warriors, and this was their fight. Their time had come to take Gavin’s Rock by storm.

At the far end of the deck, Alif still stood, his bottom half naked and his face a mix of shame and fear. His eyes flickered nervously toward the women, watching as they prepared. He knew what was coming, and the dread gnawed at him like a poison. Felix was under guard, his body trembling as he began spilling the details of the men’s plan for a celebration—a victory party that would bring many of Gavin’s Rock’s strongest men together, giving the women the perfect opportunity to strike.

Bianca stood over Felix, her expression cold and ruthless. “Tell us everything, you pathetic scum,” she growled, her eyes never leaving him as he shakily outlined the locations of the parties.

Meanwhile, Silla moved closer to Alif, leaning in and whispering softly into his ear. Her voice was low, dangerous, filled with the kind of malice that made his blood run cold. “You’re awake, aren’t you?” she murmured, her breath hot against his skin. “We’re heading back to Gavin’s Rock, and when we get there, we’re going to strike. Hundreds of women, ready to fight, will join us. The girls already on the island will rise, and those men won’t stand a chance.”

As her words sank in, she reached down and squeezed his balls, hard, drawing a sharp gasp from his lips. “And you,” she whispered with a twisted smile, “you’re the key, my husband.”

Alif winced, his body trembling as the pain radiated from his groin. He could feel the power shift—he was no longer the man in control. His eyes darted around in desperation, but there was no one to help him now.

“Okay,” Felix finally muttered, his voice shaky and weak. “The party… it’ll be split into two places. The goldminers will be celebrating in the mines, and the Watchdogs will be at Gabriel’s mansion.”

Silla’s eyes lit up with ruthless glee as Felix continued. This was the opportunity they needed. “So, the strategy is simple,” she said, her voice carrying an edge of cold authority. “Erin and Emily will gather the women who are still on the island. While they do that, we’ll hit the mine first. The miners are weaker than the Watchdogs. We’ll take them down, grab their weapons, and use that as our advantage when we move on to Gabriel and his Watchdogs.”

She turned back to Alif, her eyes narrowing with a cruel glint. “Sebastian will be a threat,” she added, her voice dripping with venom. “But we’ll deal with him when the time comes.”

Her hand found Alif’s balls again, and she squeezed, harder this time. He let out a strangled groan as the pain shot through him, his knees threatening to buckle. Silla’s expression didn’t soften. “And you, my dear husband, will be the key to getting us inside. You’re a big shot now, aren’t you? You’ll open the doors for us.”

She grinned wickedly, and without warning, her knee shot up, slamming into his groin with brutal force.

Alif’s eyes bulged, his face contorting in agony as he crumpled slightly, his hands instinctively moving to cover his now swollen balls. “P-Please, babe,” he gasped, his voice thick with desperation. “I love you… stop this. I’ll take you inside, I’ll do whatever you want…”

Silla laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Good. Then we destroy the goldminers and take their weapons. After that… we’ll strike Gabriel and his precious Watchdogs.”

Her voice rose, filled with fierce pride. “GIRL POWER!”

The other women raised their fists in unison, their voices ringing out in determined solidarity. “GIRL POWER!”

Silla turned back to the group of women, all of them newly armed, their expressions a mix of anticipation and fear. This was it—the final lesson before they stormed Gavin’s Rock. Bianca stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as she addressed the group.

“Listen up,” she barked. “First lesson—men are dumb as shit. They’re pathetic creatures who think their muscles make them strong, but they’ve got one weakness.” She gestured to Alif, who was still trembling in pain. “Those stupid, fragile organs between their legs. The testicles.”

She smirked, her boot hovering over Alif’s groin. “You can kick them,” she said casually, before driving her foot hard into Alif’s balls.

Alif let out a choked scream as his body folded, his dick shrinking visibly as he clutched at his crotch. Bianca looked down at him with cold satisfaction. “See? Useless.”

Silla joined in, laughing as she knelt next to Alif, her hand closing around his already bruised balls. “Or,” she said sweetly, “you can squeeze them.” She applied pressure, watching with delight as tears welled up in Alif’s eyes.

Dinah stepped forward, eager to demonstrate the final method. “Or,” she added, “you can use a weapon.” She motioned to Madelyn, who approached with her golden stick. With a vicious grin, Madelyn raised it high and slammed it down onto Alif’s balls, the crack of the impact echoing across the deck.

Alif’s scream was barely a whisper as he crumpled fully to the ground, his body shaking with pain.

Silla stood up, addressing the group of women. “Now, you’ll have your chance to train. When you think you’ve got the basics down, you’ll test it on Alif.” She glanced down at him, her eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. “ATTACK HIS BALLS!”