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Trabbian Justice

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Tricia

Governor
During the short drive back, the women sat in silence, each contemplating what they had just witnessed. When they arrived back at the archeological camp they decided to head straight to the dig site, eager to make up for the lost time. As they were walking there, Thura turned to Susan. “What did you think of what you saw, Professor?” he asked her.

“It was shocking, brutal,” Susan replied. “I’ve certainly never seen anything like that.”

Sarah added, “I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that they were students like us who were getting punished like that for smoking dope. I mean all of us have done that and much worse.”

“Aside from the awful pain, they must have felt so degraded, to be naked and completely helpless, strapped to that horrible frame,” Priya said, “I can’t even imagine what that must be like.”

“Have any of you taken Professor Morton’s class on ‘The Philosophy of Free Will’?” Susan asked her students. “I wonder what he would say about this. I mean here you have 2 girls who were autonomous people, students, just a couple of days ago and here they were stripped totally naked, restrained so they couldn’t move and whipped at the whim of the Warden and her guards. What does that say about our nature?”

Jen pondered the question. “I suppose it shows how little different from animals we are. How we can treat our fellow humans with such cruelty, especially when we have power over them.”

“And free will is an illusion, perhaps, that depends on living in a society that doesn’t practice abuse,” Sarah added.

“But, you must surely admit the other side of the argument,” Thura interjected. “Those young ladies will think twice and three times before ever breaking the law again. I am sure they will not forget such an experience for the rest of their lives. And some of their classmates will hear about it and perhaps see their wounds and they will want to avoid such a fate, so they will make sure they obey the law also. Certainly, none of you would want such a punishment, would you?”

“Of course not,” Susan told the Trabbian guide. “Who would want to suffer such a horror?”

At that point the discussion ended, as they reached the dig. The women worked hard to make up for the lost morning and Priya didn’t have any time to think any more about what they had seen at the Punishment Center until later that night. Even then, she hadn’t wanted to dwell on the horrible sights she had witnessed. Tired from the morning’s emotional experience and the afternoon’s hard work in the hot sun, Priya had a shower, put on a fresh T shirt and panties, her usual sleepware for the warm nights in the jungle, lay down on her cot and fell asleep almost immediately. Several hours later, around 1 AM, Priya awoke, her heart pounding, her shirt damp with sweat. She felt as though her body was immobilized and that something awful was about to happen. Coming back to consciousness, she tested her arms and legs and found they could move quite freely. Slowly it dawned on Priya that she had been having a nightmare in which she was strapped to the horrible caning frame back at the prison camp, about to be whipped. Even though she knew it was a dream, she imagined herself in the place of those Trabbian students, enduring the shame of being naked in front of all those people, the strangeness of being restrained, the pain. Would she keep silent, beg and scream, perhaps even faint as the second girl had?

These disturbing thoughts made it hard for Priya to get back to sleep. Perhaps, a walk would calm her down. She got up and slipped on her shorts and flip-flops. As she did, she glanced over at Susan’s cot. The professor was lying on her stomach, seemingly asleep. Priya strolled out into the night. It was the new moon, so it was quite dark, but she could see a dim light from Jennifer and Sarah’s hut and she heard sounds, so she walked over to see if they were awake and up for a little chat. As she came over next to their hut, Priya heard a whistling, followed by a slapping noise and Jennifer’s voice saying, “One”. Priya noticed that there was a knot hole in the wood siding at about knee level. She sat down in front of the hole and heard another whistle and slap and Jen counting “Two”.

“What could be going on in there?” Priya wondered. She felt awful spying on her friends, but her curiosity got the better of her. She peered into the hole and was astounded at what she saw. Sarah was on all fours on the floor, naked, her ass sticking up in the air. Jen, equally naked, was behind her holding a strap that looked like it came off one of the backpacks they had travelled with. At that moment, Jen swung the strap, smacking it down forcefully on Sarah’s butt and announcing, “Three”.

“Oww,” Sarah moaned, “That hurt.”

“Good,” Jen replied, “Maybe next time there is a party, you will keep your hands off that bitch Veronica.” Then, she drew the strap back, ready to deliver the fourth swat. Priya felt ashamed at having seen such an intimate scene, but, even worse, she felt shame that she found it arousing. Disgusted with her dirty mind, she stood up and walked towards the camp kitchen. Still, she couldn’t help wondering whether this behavior of her classmates was their usual habit, or whether it was stimulated by the scene they had witnessed that morning.

After a brief circuit of the camp, Priya hoped that she was over the nightmare and ready to get back to sleep. As she passed Jen and Sarah’s hut on her way back to her own, she was relieved that she didn’t hear and more slapping noises, but only a low moaning. Unable to stop herself, she sat down again in front of the hole and looked in. Sarah was still on all fours, but this time, Jennifer was sitting behind her rubbing her hands over her ass.

“Gently, Jen,” Sarah cautioned, “It’s really sore.

“Oh, stop being such a baby, Sarah,” her lover replied. “That strap is nothing like the rotan that those girls got.”

“God, I bet that would hurt like crazy. I bet even you would cry, Jen.”

“I don’t know, Sarah, but if they were doing that to me I would do my best to keep silent just so as not to give the bastards the satisfaction of hearing me cry. I don’t know if I could do it, but I would sure try.” As she spoke, Jen’s hands strayed down to Sarah’s pussy which was prominently displayed in her supine position. She inserted two fingers inside her lover.

“Oh, fuck, I don’t know why, but I am sooo horny. Would you lick my pussy, Jen? Please? I promise I won’t even speak to Veronica again.”

“Well, OK, Sarah, I think you’ve learned your lesson,” Jen replied, bending her face down to lap at Sarah’s labia, while continuing to fuck her with her fingers. This sight was too much for Priya; illicitly watching her friends reenacting that morning’s caning and then having sex, was making her desperately, achingly horny. She opened the waist button of her shorts and slipped her hand inside her panties and inserted a finger into her pussy, moving it in and out as she listened to Sarah moan in pleasure under her lover’s tongue. It wasn’t long before Sarah announced, “Oh, fuck, I’m coming” and emitted a long low moan as she bucked her ass against Jen’s face and kicked her feet against the dirt floor of the hut.

Priya was sorely tempted to bring herself off right then and there, which would have taken only a bit of pressure on her clit, but decided she would be more comfortable in her own hut, on her own cot. She quickly stood, buttoned her shorts and hurried back to her own hut. Very quietly, so as not to wake up Professor Gelden, she opened the door a crack and peered in. Susan was lying on her belly, as she had been when Priya left for her walk. However, looking closer, Priya was startled to see that her professor’s very delectable butt, also clothed in panties, was rhythmically rising and falling and that one of Susan’s hands was not visible by her side. “Oh my God,” Priya thought, “Professor Gelden is humping her hand!” What should she do? In her heart, Priya really wanted to offer the professor some assistance in reaching her orgasm and perhaps have some assistance from the professor in reaching her own, but, in her head, Priya was far too shy to propose such a thing. Instead, she turned away and sat down beside the door to allow Susan to finish her task undisturbed.

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, Priya could see that Susan was humping her hand at full speed now, and panting for breath. Priya knew it was risky to watch, since Susan could possibly look up and notice that the door was not closed, but the sight of her beloved professor approaching her climax was too delicious to miss. All of a sudden, Susan’s entire body went rigid, her toes pointed straight out, and she emitted a moan, quickly stifled, before going limp.

Priya waited about 10 minutes, struggling the whole time to restrain herself from touching her genitals, since she knew it would take very little to push herself over the edge. Finally, she took off her flip-flops, opened the door and tiptoed to her cot. Susan did not stir, but frankly, Priya was so desperate for her own release that she doubted she could wait any longer even if Susan were awake. She slipped quietly out of her shorts and lay down. Slipping her hand into her underpants, Priya began rubbing herself again, this time focusing on her clit so as to get to orgasm as quickly as possible. She stretched her legs out in front of her, her toes curling with pleasure as she thought again about the 2 girls stripping for their floggings and being strapped to the frame. Priya almost bit her tongue in her efforts to keep silent so as not to be heard in case her mentor was awake. She recalled the guard impassively calling the strokes and, when the count reached 6, the orgasm hit her like a speeding train, causing her legs to thrash uncontrollably and her chest to heave as waves of pleasure crashed through her body.

Finally, as Priya came down from her climax, she glanced over at Susan’s cot. The professor seemed to have slept through the whole performance, so Priya closed her eyes and drifted into a contented sleep.

END OF CHAPTER 2 MORE ADVENTURES TO COME
This never happened to me in my undergrad.
 

Tricia

Governor
Chapter 3: Trouble in Trabbia


Of course, the American women were much too dedicated to their scholarly pursuits to waste any more time away from their appointed tasks. They worked extra hard the next few days to make up for the morning spent observing justice being delivered, until one afternoon when the tropical heat became almost unbearable. Sarah moaned, “God, I wish there was somewhere to swim here.”

Jennifer said, “I know there’s a river about a half-mile away. I wonder if there’s a place to swim and a way to get there without getting lost in the jungle.”

“Let me go ask Thura,” Susan volunteered. She returned about 15 minutes later, smiling. “He says there is a place to swim if you just follow the trail from behind the dining hall. He says it’s technically forbidden, but many people swim there anyway.”

Priya had a bit of a bad feeling. “Are you sure we should risk trouble after that little demonstration we saw the other day? “

“Well, Thura assured me it’s alright and that many Trabbians and foreign guests have been there without any problems, so I don’t see any cause for worry,” Susan replied.

Jen seconded the idea “It’s soooo hot, if I don’t get some relief, I might pass out.” Sarah agreed.

Faced with the peer pressure from her classmates and the approval of her professor, and the presumed permission of their Trabbian host, plus the fact that she too was suffering from the heat, Priya agreed to join them.

“So let’s put on our swimsuits and go down to the clearing by the river” Susan told them. “I’ll see if I can score a few cold beers from the kitchen. I think we’ve all been good and deserve a break.” About 10 minutes later, the women assembled, dressed in 2 piece swimsuits and sandals, each carrying a towel. Susan had her small day pack with 4 bottles of the local beer she had found in the refrigerator. They left the camp on a jungle path, accompanied by the screech of monkeys and the cries of beautiful exotic birds. After a short descent, they reached the edge of the clearing where they could see the water directly ahead, looking very inviting.

Without further hesitation, the women deposited their towels and Susan dropped her pack, and they all plunged into the water, which was blissfully cool, having flowed down from the mountains some distance away. They floated and played, Sarah and Jen splashing each other and hugging. Watching them, Priya felt a strong urge to hug Susan but she felt far too ashamed of her feelings to act on them. After a while, they got out and lay on their towels, able to enjoy the feeling of the tropical sun on their skin now that the water had cooled them off.

“Boy, I’d love a joint right now,” Sarah sighed.

“Are you insane?” Priya asked, incredulous, “After what we saw them do to those 2 for smoking a joint?”

“I’m just kidding,” Sarah replied. “Believe me I wouldn’t do anything that stupid while we’re here. But I would love one of those beer you brought,” Susan.

“Me too!” Jen cried and Priya nodded that she would like one too, so Susan pulled the beer bottles out of her pack and gave each of them one and opened one for herself. They sat happily, enjoying the sun and the quiet of this lovely spot.

As they were relaxing, they heard footsteps on the path and looked up to see 4 uniformed police officers, 2 males, one rather young and fairly tall for a Trabbian, the other older and shorter, and 2 females, both strong and rather dyke-looking, similar enough that they could have been sisters. The officers had their cell phones out, as though they were filming the American women. The 4 cops strode purposefully across the sand to where the women were sitting and stood over them with stern expressions on their faces. The older male officer, who appeared to be a sergeant based on the stripes on his uniform, asked, in good, but accented English, “What is going on here? It is forbidden to be here. The river can be dangerous and people have drowned, so it is not allowed.”

“We are archaeologists working at the Mongha camp,” Susan replied, “And we just wanted to relax. Besides, our host Thura told us it was OK to swim here.”

“I know Thura and I doubt he would say that,” the Sergeant told her, “And even if he did, it’s still against the law.”

One of the female officers knelt and picked up one of the beer bottles and said something to the sergeant. “Is this beer?” he asked the girls. “How old are you?” he demanded looking back and forth between Jen, Priya and Sarah. “Do not lie,” he advised, “It will be very easy to check your passports.”

“I’m 20,” Sarah replied.

“19” Jennifer indicated.

“20” Priya added.

“I see,” the sergeant nodded, “The drinking age in Trabbia is 21, so all of you are too young to drink here. Where did you get these?” he asked.

Susan stood up. “I borrowed them from the camp refrigerator,” she told him. “We have been working really hard and I felt my students deserved a break. We are visitors, not familiar with your laws, so I’m sorry if we did anything we are not supposed to. I will be happy to buy a whole case to replace those bottles.

The sergeant turned to Susan and told her “This is a serious matter under our laws. We have underage drinking, we have trespassing and we have theft of government property. You will have to come with us. Stand up.”

Priya was puzzled and nervous over this show of force on the part of the authorities. She knew that they were honored foreign guests of the Trabbian government, and she imagined that they wouldn’t want an international incident over such a petty matter as drinking a beer and swimming. Then she thought about the 2 young students, their asses welted and bleeding over a couple of joints. “Who knows what kinds of idiotic laws they have in this crazy country?” she thought. “God knows, they might even cane people over something like this.” She shivered despite the heat

Before Priya could speak, Susan, as the oldest and most experienced, took charge, “Look, officers, we are very sorry. We really meant no harm.”

The sergeant took out his cell phone and tapped a few things into the pop-up keyboard. After a moment, it appeared he found the site he was looking for. “I hope you ladies realize how much trouble you are in,” he told the foreign women. “Read this aloud,” he instructed, handing the phone to Susan.

Students receive 6 strokes of the cane for underage drinking,” she intoned.

The sergeant took the phone back. “It’s from the ‘Pranda Times’, an English-language paper in the capital,” he told them. “Do you know what a judicial caning means in Trabbia?” The women nodded. Priya wondered if he knew that they had witnessed two of them. “It is extremely unpleasant, to say the least. You will not like it at all.” The other cops were making swinging motions with their arms and imitating the swish of the rotan.

After a moment’s further scanning on the phone, he announced “Here is another,” handing the phone to Susan again.

“Drunken teen partiers get 10 strokes,” she read. The students all gathered around, reading over her shoulder.

“Three to be caned for trespassing at beach,” read a third. All were dated within the past year. Priya’s stomach was churning. “Could this possibly happen to them? Surely they wouldn’t cane foreigners?” she wondered, suspecting that they might very well.

“This is outrageous,” said Sarah. “We were just trying to cool off on a hot day.”

The sergeant looked down at her, his face showing a mixture of anger and regret. “Maybe in America the authorities are willing to tolerate such behavior or excuse it with a small fine, but here in Trabbia we protect the public order. And don’t think you will escape punishment because you are foreigners. While you are in our country, you are under our laws. In fact, I suspect the judge might even want to make a special example of you because you are from abroad. The law allows up to 18 strokes for these offenses; usually the judge gives fewer than that as you see from the paper, but he might give you the maximum. You ladies are in serious trouble.”

Susan, looking ashen, told the Sergeant in a soft voice that they had witnessed canings recently and knew how horrible they were.

“And don’t think you can be found not guilty; we have your entire little escapade on video,” the Sergeant told them. He touched the screen of his cell phone and showed them the video. They saw themselves swimming, their faces very clear, as was the fact that all of them were drinking from beer bottles. Worried looks passed between the American women. “It would be very much in your interest to make sure that we do not make an official report,” the sergeant warned.

“What do you want us to do?” Susan asked in a nervous tone. “I don’t think any of us have much cash on us back at camp, because there isn’t anything to buy there. We were going to take out money when we went to Pranda.”

“How much do you have?” the sergeant asked.

Susan conferred with her students. “Maybe 50 dollars” she told him. The sum was met with uproarious laughter from the 4 cops after the Sergeant translated. Priya was puzzled by the reaction. Surely this was all a shakedown for a bribe as was common in this part of the world.

“We would be risking our jobs and criminal penalties of our own for taking a bribe. You can’t expect us to let you go for such a laughable amount,” the sergeant explained after his collagues had stopped chortling. “I’m afraid it would require serious money.”

Jen interrupted, “Look, if you take us to the nearest town that has a bank, we could get some from an ATM. How much do you want?”

The sergeant relayed this in Trabbian to his colleagues, who seemed to find it humorous as well. One of the female cops said something that caused all the Trabbians to laugh. The sergeant told the Americans, “Police officers escorting foreigners to an ATM would attract notice. And of course they all have cameras. Anyway, you could only get a couple of hundred dollars at one time from an ATM. For the amounts it would require to make something as serious as this go away, you would have to arrange bank transfers and that would be reported to the financial authorities. I’m afraid that is not possible.”

“So, I don’t know what we can do,” Jen replied with real worry in her voice.

“The only possibility is to offer something other than money. You are all attractive women and I think we could make an arrangement if you were willing to be co-operative.” The officers, both the male and the females were leering at the American women as the sergeant spoke.

Now it became clear to Dr. Gelden and her students what the situation they were facing was. Priya felt a chill run down her spine as she considered the possibility that she would be forced into sex with these corrupt cops. “What are you saying?” she asked nervously.

The sergeant explained-“Just a little harmless fun, some relaxation from our stressful jobs. If you do as we ask, then we will let you go back to the camp and that will be the end of the matter. If you don’t, we will arrest you and take you to the station. It is your choice entirely. Take a minute and discuss it, but then I must have your answer. All of you must agree or we will have no alternative but to arrest all of you.”

The women formed a huddle, looking into each other’s eyes for support. “No way, I’m letting those pigs do shit to me,” Sarah proclaimed in her usual defiant manner.

Susan felt compelled to disagree, “You saw what that caning was like. Do you want that? I mean I know this is disgusting, but what choice do we have?”

“How do we know they aren’t bluffing?” Jennifer asked.

Susan grasped Jen’s arm and looked at her searchingly “Do you think really think they are, Jennifer? Are you willing to risk your butt on that-literally?”

“Susan, I’ve known I’m gay since I was in elementary school. I really don’t know if I could stomach those guys and their cocks in me,” Jen pleaded. “I could do those women if I had to, I guess, though they aren’t really my type.”

“Alright, let me talk to the sergeant and see what I can do,” the professor responded.

“Sergeant, may I speak with you in private?” she asked. He stepped away from his colleagues and beckoned Susan over. They had an animated conversation for a few moments, before Susan returned to speak with her students. “Okay, he’s agreed that you and Sarah only have to take care of the female officers. Priya, you and I will be with the guys, but oral only, no fucking.”

Priya was almost too ashamed by the whole thing to speak, but she knew she had to lay things out, “I really don’t have much experience with, um, sex, so I don’t even know if I’ll be able to, you know, satisfy them.”

Susan stared at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you; just follow what I say and do. I don’t think we have any choice. I think they are quite serious about what will happen to us if we say no. Sucking those creeps off will be disgusting for sure, but having our butts shredded will be worse. I think we have to do what they ask. Are we agreed?” Jen and Priya nodded, looking resigned. Sarah remained silent.

“Sarah, we all have to do this together. Please, you can’t be responsible for all of us getting caned. It won’t be so bad-we eat out those 2 women and that's it. Don't let them shred our asses like those 2 we saw,” Jen implored her lover.

Priya could see that Sarah was having trouble resisting the combined entreaties of her professor and her girlfriend. Sarah muttered, “What fucked up shit this is. Alright, I’ll do it.”

Susan turned around and looked at the cops. “OK,” she said, “We agree. Jen and Sarah will take care of the women and Priya and I will do you and your friend. Then you let us go back to our camp. Deal?”

“Yes, professor, it’s a deal. Now let’s get to work, shall we? Susan, as you are the Professor, I think you should show your students how to provide oral relief in such situations. Please be sure that failure to do a first rate job will result in this party going down to the police station.”

TO BE CONTINUED
An offer they can't refuse.
 

old slave

FELIS RESPICIENS
This never happened to me in my undergrad.

They do a very good postgrad at the University of the Virgin Martyrs, Advanced Torture and Execution Techniques classroom demonstrations (volunteers welcome) then a project in the field (wood provided, bring your own nails). Reduced course fees if you donate your body to the school of anatomy.
 

windar

Teller of Tales
My, Windar, you are an evil writer!!!

Great story!

Yes he is.

The counsel for the defense would like to speak here:

No one was killed in this story. No animals were harmed. No limbs were lost. Yes, there is some permanent skin scarring, but they can always wear a burkini when they go to the beach, as long as it isn't in France. If Tricia reads on in the trilogy, she will see that Priya graduates from Medical School and has a great career with the Dept of Corrections back home. She marries a great guy with a successful IT business. Susan continues her successful academic career and even visits Trabbia frequently to work with their National Museum. I've heard that Jennifer and Sarah are still together. They live in San Francisco and got married a month after the US Supreme Court ruled on same-sex marriage. Jennifer is a gym teacher and Sarah does something or other in tech. They attend the Fulsom Street Fair every year.
 

Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
The counsel for the defense would like to speak here:

No one was killed in this story. No animals were harmed. No limbs were lost. Yes, there is some permanent skin scarring, but they can always wear a burkini when they go to the beach, as long as it isn't in France. If Tricia reads on in the trilogy, she will see that Priya graduates from Medical School and has a great career with the Dept of Corrections back home. She marries a great guy with a successful IT business. Susan continues her successful academic career and even visits Trabbia frequently to work with their National Museum. I've heard that Jennifer and Sarah are still together. They live in San Francisco and got married a month after the US Supreme Court ruled on same-sex marriage. Jennifer is a gym teacher and Sarah does something or other in tech. They attend the Fulsom Street Fair every year.

Almost Pollyanna-ish ;) And they lived happily ever after :confused:
 

Tricia

Governor
The counsel for the defense would like to speak here:

No one was killed in this story. No animals were harmed. No limbs were lost. Yes, there is some permanent skin scarring, but they can always wear a burkini when they go to the beach, as long as it isn't in France. If Tricia reads on in the trilogy, she will see that Priya graduates from Medical School and has a great career with the Dept of Corrections back home. She marries a great guy with a successful IT business. Susan continues her successful academic career and even visits Trabbia frequently to work with their National Museum. I've heard that Jennifer and Sarah are still together. They live in San Francisco and got married a month after the US Supreme Court ruled on same-sex marriage. Jennifer is a gym teacher and Sarah does something or other in tech. They attend the Fulsom Street Fair every year.

Ok diabolical!!!
 

old slave

FELIS RESPICIENS
Where do I sign up?

I claim no influence with that institution.

I believe it was a TH Tree accomplishment, but am willing to confess ignorance under torture if that proves incorrect. The Wraggs put a great deal of money into it in return for significant perks. Prof Barbara Moore has a chequered career there, suffering in the name of science.

Report for interview wearing loose, easily-removable clothing, and bring your favourite manacles and whip. Tell your relatives that if accepted, you may be gone a long time.................
 

windar

Teller of Tales
I claim no influence with that institution.

I believe it was a TH Tree accomplishment, but am willing to confess ignorance under torture if that proves incorrect. The Wraggs put a great deal of money into it in return for significant perks. Prof Barbara Moore has a chequered career there, suffering in the name of science.

Report for interview wearing loose, easily-removable clothing, and bring your favourite manacles and whip. Tell your relatives that if accepted, you may be gone a long time.................

The students get to CHOOSE their favorite (or favourite, if you prefer) whip? You softie...
 

old slave

FELIS RESPICIENS
The students get to CHOOSE their favorite (or favourite, if you prefer) whip? You softie...

In the interests of Health and Safety, instruments of restraint and torture are to be used on one person only. We take our responsibilities to our students and staff very seriously.

Please label all equipment with your name. All personal items will be returned at the end of the course to yourself or next-of-kin.
 

thehangingtree

Proconsul
Staff member
Where do I sign up?
I claim no influence with that institution.

I believe it was a TH Tree accomplishment, but am willing to confess ignorance under torture if that proves incorrect. The Wraggs put a great deal of money into it in return for significant perks. Prof Barbara Moore has a chequered career there, suffering in the name of science.

Report for interview wearing loose, easily-removable clothing, and bring your favourite manacles and whip. Tell your relatives that if accepted, you may be gone a long time.................
inspection 001.jpg
I think she'll get in...
 

Eulalia

Poet Laureate
Staff member
Yes, I'm not easy with this idea of private property.
Certainly applicants should bring whips, manacles and minimal attire,
but they must understand, from the moment they're admitted,
all their former possessions they've brought with them become property of the University,
to be used on any of the students, entirely at the discretion and command of the Administration.
 

windar

Teller of Tales
Does that mean we'll have a PDF of the whole thing?
=== Hope, Hope ===

It is in the story archive, along with the 2 other stories in the trilogy, "Trabbian Justice Comes to America" and "Trabbian Justice Jungle Hell".

Thanks to the great work of Madiosi and Eulalia, all the stories that appear on the site can be found there. Click on "The Forum Archive", just under the banner picture.
 
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