Chapter 126 The Baron's Dinner ...
"Don't turn up your nose at such an opportunity, fraulein," the baron was
saying with a twisted grin, as Ju re-focused on his words. "Herr Fleischmann
knows the garment business." Then the baron added with a licentious smile, "In
fact he told me that he would design and produce a special maid's costume for
you to wear for that occasion."
Ju felt an icy shiver course through her body. Such a costume, designed by
such a man, could only be a prelude to depravities beyond her imagination.
"But enough of Fleischmann. It is our night tonight." The baron's thin
lips curled into an imperious sneer as he voiced the words that Ju had been
dreading. "The drawer, Ju! You know the one. Bring me what you find there!"
Trembling, her thoughts still plagued by the thought of being subjected to
the obscene attentions of Fritz Fleischmann, Ju turned toward the cabinet in
the bookcase which the baron had chosen as the arsenal for his implements of
correction. She was conscious of the baron's eyes on her skimpily-clad behind
as she walked toward the cabinet. As she opened the dreadful drawer her heart
sank.
For the instrument she found there was the one she feared most.
The rattan cane.
The sharp-tipped, flesh-cutting cane that had left reddened trails of fire
across her bottom on her last visit to the baron's office.
Remembering the baron's rigid rules of protocol, Ju picked up the flexible
instrument of discipline and, holding an end submissively in each of her
upturned palms, turned back toward the baron with eyes properly lowered. To her
surprise, he had moved closer and was now standing alongside the desk.
Taking the cane from her hands, the Baron, flicked it through the air
twice, testing its whippiness. Finding it eminently satisfactory, he barked,
"On the desk!"
Ju felt the baron's blue eyes ravishing her petite body as she reluctantly
hoisted her girlish backside onto the desk. The baron used the tip of the cane
to poke her in the side forcing her to slide toward his left, until she was
seated, facing him, about a foot or so from the end of the desk.
"Auf die Knie, Fraulein!"
Ju swallowed and dutifully pulled her lithe body up until she was on her
knees atop the gleaming surface of the desk that she had polished to a sparkling
shine that very afternoon.
"Spread your knees!" the baron snapped. "Further!" he hissed, when Ju was
slow to comply, whipping the cane smartly across her left thigh.
The beautiful maid winced at the blow but blushingly parted her legs,
trying to ignore the fact that the baron's blue eyes were fixed on the thin
panties which only half-veiled the sweet treasure between her thighs.
"Further! Further apart, I said!" and Gutmayer snapped the cane down
smartly again, leaving a second burning line alongside the first. Gritting her
teeth against the pain, Ju spread her thighs until her knees were as far apart
as her shoulders and then she sank back onto her haunches submissively.
The baron poked his cane into the hem of Ju's camisole and lifted it up a
few inches, licking his lips slightly at the sight of Ju's ivory-gold
bellyflesh.
"The camisole. Take it off!"
The almond-eyed housemaid obediently slid the noodle-thin straps of the
camisole down over her bare shoulders and held the flimsy garment against her
cone-shaped breasts.
"Off, dummchen. Off!!" and the rattan from the Bismarck Archipelago flashed
through the air again before biting into Ju's bare thigh-flesh a third time, no
more than a centimeter from the other two marks.
"Oooouuw! I will, Herr Baron, I will," Ju grimaced, as she eased the
camisole downward over her pert breasts until it was a circular band of silk
just south of her neatly-notched navel.
Standing slightly to one side of her Von Gutmayer extended the cane so that
it pressed against the underside of Ju's teardrop-shaped nipples, as if he were
a conjuror holding a magic wand. And sure enough, the delicious brownish buds
responded to his erotic sleight-of-hand by springing to life, lengthening and
thickening nicely as he sawed the cane back and forth against their undersides
with almost imperceptible pressure.
The baron, pleased with his efforts, gave Ju a quick belly-flick with the
cane before setting it down. "Now, fraulein, we shall dine together," he said,
in much the tone of voice he might have used to a countess. Then the baron
strode over to the dishes on the table, and uncovered them quickly, glancing at
their steaming contents before hurriedly replacing the lids and then carrying
the entire tray, along with the elegant pair of chopsticks, across the room and
placing it on the right side of the desk, as he faced it, within easy reach.
Amused by his playful reversal of their servant and master roles, he gave
Ju a charming smile. "First, I think, a glass of champagne. I am sorry, but we
shall have to share a single glass. It was very thoughtless of me, I'm sure.
You will forgive me, I trust?"
He gave Ju an inquiring glance, but when she merely stared at him blankly,
his smile darkened. "As you wish, madame," he said through tight lips. The
baron picked up the bottle of sparkling wine, glanced at the label approvingly,
and proceeded to loosen its pressurized cork. It was only when the cork was
about to burst free that he turned back toward the kneeling beauty and fired the
loosened cork at Ju's left breast from a distance of only a few feet.
The baron had practiced this form of target-shooting on more than one
occasion in the past and his aim was admirable. The cork exploded out of the
bottle and struck Ju's breast just below the nipple with almost ballistic force.
"Aaaiaaahh!!" Ju cried out in pain and rubbed at the red mark on her
breast. Meanwhile the baron quickly slid the flute under the foaming bottle,
and held it there as he moved toward her. The glass quickly overflowed with
bubbly froth and dripped down onto Ju's thigh.
"How careless of me, fraulein," the baron exclaimed with an insincere
smirk. "Here, perhaps this will cheer you up," he said, offering her the glass.
Ju took the glass from him with trembling hands and sipped at it while Von
Gutmayer's lips lapped at the champagne he had spilled on her bare leg.
Then he reached up and took the half-full glass from her lips, took a sip
from it himself, and set it back down on the tray. Then he glanced down
thoughtfully at the champagne cork which was lying on the floor where it had
fallen after cannoning into Ju's cushiony breast. He bent down, picked it up
and placed it neatly on the dinner tray.
Ju was still wondering at the baron's fastidiousness when he asked her, "Do
you like prawns, fraulein?" as he inched the cover off of one of the dishes.
"I ... I do not know, Herr Baron. I have never had one. They are very
dear."
"You must try one. Here." Taking up the chopsticks, the baron slipped
them under the lid of one of the serving dishes, allowing a jet of steam to
billow out. He snatched a large prawn expertly and held it in front of her. Ju
reached for the chopsticks, but the baron pulled his hand back.
"No, my insolent little housemaid," he said with a cryptic smile. "It is I
who will serve you dinner tonight. "Clasp your hands together behind your neck."
Trembling uneasily, Ju did as she was bid. The tall Prussian eyed the
uptilted tips of Ju's tempting breasts as if they were the most delectable of
hors d'oeuvres, and then extended the steaming prawn toward the maid's waiting
lips.
"Try it, please," he said with a feigned gentility.
Ju did, biting into the golden-brown prawn and tearing off half of it with
her teeth, allowing its succulent juices to trickle down her chin. Despite her
anxiety, it was impossible not to be taken aback by the taste of the succulent
prawn, whose seasoning and texture were indeed fit for a heavenly feast.
"Are they not delectable? They are river prawns - the finest in the world
- cooked in the kung pao style. Have you ever tasted anything so flavorful?"
"It ... it is wonderful, Herr Baron," Ju confessed truthfully, wondering at
the strange whims of this connoisseur of cruelty and cuisine.
"Yes, but they are even better when freshly basted with sesame and garlic.
Here, let me show you."
The baron reached toward the tray and took up a tiny metal pitcher with a
wooden handle, pulled back the lid and dipped the tip of the remaining half of
the prawn into sesame oil seasoned with garlic and other spices. "Koestlich!"
he murmured. "Delicious!" after biting off the very tip of the prawn, and
licking his lips. Then he frowned. "But unfortunately our lengthy ...
conversation ... has permitted the sesame oil to cool. But that is easily
remedied."
Ju watched, mystified, as the Baron strode over to the low table and
retrieved one of the candles she had noticed earlier. He placed the short, squat
candle on the desk, between her wide-spread knees, and then, lifting the pitcher
carefully by the wooden handle, he held it over the flame for half a minute or
so.
"That should do it," he whispered, tapping his finger tentatively against
the base of the pitcher to make sure the oil had been heated to the proper
temperature. "Ow!" he muttered softly before pulling his finger away from the
hot metal. "Yes, that should do nicely."
Then, taking up the chopsticks which held the prawn in his right hand and
the miniature pitcher in his left, he raised his hands in front of Ju.
Ju, feeling unusually vulnerable with her fingers interlaced behind her
neck, expected the baron to dip the prawn into the oil-cruet. But instead the
baron upended the tiny pitcher and poured a small quantity of the sizzling
concoction onto the upslope of Ju's right breast.
"Aaahh!!" Ju flinched as the hot oil began to trickle down her breast, but
the baron quickly reached out and swept the end of the prawn across her
love-mound, mopping her glistening aureole with the tasty crustacean. He had
popped it into his mouth before Ju could react to the near-scalding oil by
unclasping her hands and bringing them forth defensively.
"Hands behind your head, fraulein!" the baron snapped, angered by Ju's
disobedience. Moving with lightning-like quickness, he entrapped Ju's distended
left nipple between the midpoints of the two chopsticks, adjusting the grip of
his fingers along the wooden sticks so that he was in a position to apply
nipple-crushing pressure almost instantaneously. "Our meal has only just
begun."
Eyeing her trapped nipple fearfully, Ju obeyed, leaving the baron free to
continue his banquet of flesh.
There were five remaining prawns in the serving dish, and the baron, in the
grip of a generosity steeped in depravity, shared them with Ju, letting her take
the first bite of each. Five times the metallic pitcher upturned, and five
times the baron poured a steaming rivulet of hot garlic-oil onto the tops and
sides of Ju's reddening breast, each time using the prawn as a dainty serviette.
When they had consumed the last of the prawns, the baron, after cautioning Ju to
remain utterly still, reheating the few remaining drops of the seasoned oil
until she could hear them sizzling in the bottom of the metal pitcher.
Guessing his intention, Ju shook her head despairingly. "No," she
murmured. "Please ... No..."
But the baron met her pleading glance with a sinister smile before pouring
the dregs of the near-scalding dipping sauce directly onto the aureole of her
left breast, enveloping her sensitive bud in a lake of liquid fire. He watched
Ju's upper body vibrate in misery for a few seconds before bending forward and
licking her garlicky breast-bud clean.
By now, the repeated applications of the hot oil to her tender breast had
caused Ju's soft brown eyes to fill with tears of pain.
"Too hot, my dear?" the baron asked mockingly. "How clumsy of me!" He
picked up the champagne and held the chilled bottle against the breast on which
he had spilled the hot oil.
"I trust that you are grateful for my consideration?" he asked as he slid
the cool girth of the bottle back and forth across the curves of Ju's breast.
And indeed Ju was grateful to feel the chilled bottle against her tortured
flesh, and she nodded thankfully. Gutmayer then held the bottle to her waiting
lips and turned it upward, letting Ju drink until her mouth and throat were full
and the overflow of champagne began coursing down her chin and neck and throat
and onto the upper slopes of her breasts.
"Ah, such gusto! And now, fraulein, it is time for your second course."
Von Gutmayer set the half-empty bottle back on the tray and opened the buttons
of his fly with his left hand, liberating his stiffening penis, while he reached
sideways with his right.
Ju's eyes were not on his hands, but rather on the baron's veiny cock which
seemed to leap toward her from a nest of pale blonde pubic hair.
"Bon appetit!" Gutmayer said gruffly, as he placed his hand on Ju's dark,
silky hair and pulled her head down toward his waiting erection.
Ju's neck and shoulders stiffened in protest, but a quick, searing slash of
the rattan cane, with which the baron had just rearmed himself, across the outer
curve of her left breast and then its jabbing pressure against her nipple once
again crushed her resistance, and she let the baron press her head down toward
his thrusting organ.
"The tip. Just lick the tip with your pretty tongue for a moment. Ja, Ja,
that's it. So how you do like the taste of my schwanz tonight, madchen, now
that the champagne has cleansed your palate? You may use your hands now, wench.
Wrap your hand around it. Ahh, sehr schoen. Stroke it right down to the root.
Ja, langsam, langsam ... nice and slow. You're doing well, fraulein. More
tongue, now..."
There were tears of humiliation in Ju's eyes as she abased herself paying
oral homage to the vice-consul's blutwurst. Her tiny hand could barely encircle
his blood sausage, which had thickened as if the touch of her lips had given his
manly corpuscles new vigor.
When Gutmayer saw that his sexual servitor could not get at his throbbing
testicles properly, he undid his trousers and slid them down his legs along with
his underwear. He stood before her, incongruously well-dressed above the waist
and obscenely naked below, so that one of Ju's tiny hands could fondle his
hairy, sperm-laden balls while the other slid easily up and down the length of
his thick-knobbed member.
"Ahhhh, your hands are warm, fraulein. And your lips are sweet! Teufel
auch! I have trained you well, puppchen. Ja, ja... Don't stop, wench," he
groaned with pleasure as the pressure of the tip of the cane against Ju's breast
encouraged her best efforts. Essen ... essen. Eat your fill!"
As Ju stroked and licked at the baron's towering penis, she came to
realize that the baron had picked up the chopsticks and was once again sampling
bits of meat and vegetables from the various dishes, thus satisfying both of his
robust appetites at once. He seemed to find the idea of dining en fellatio most
amusing and the bare-breasted Asian beauty was compelled to labor over the
baron's virile genitals for several minutes by the Neuchatel clock, while he
nibbled on succulent bits of chicken, crisp snow peas, crunchy water chestnuts,
and Chinese dumplings that seemed to melt in his mouth.
After a time, he set the chopsticks to one side and leaned forward,
thrusting the length of his cock-shaft deep into Ju's mouth. He groaned with
man-pleasure as he reached out with his long arms and slid his hands along the
soft flesh of her back, as if his questing thumbs were tallying the attractive
protrusions of her vertebrae. Then he reached further still, slipping his
fingers inside the waistband of Ju's pale white panties, and then slowly rolling
the undergarment down, baring the enticing groove between her rounded buttocks.
He lunged forward slightly, burying his thick phallus even deeper into Ju's
throat while he savored her yielding bottom-cheeks. His hands roved freely over
the springy globes, fondling and kneading every inch of her nicely-curved
derriere from the base of her spine to the almost imperceptible crease where the
gentle curve at the base of her buttocks melded into the inexpressibly soft
flesh of her upper thighs. Throughout it all he ignored Ju's increasingly
urgent gasps of half-strangled discomfort as his marauding member explored every
corner of her saliva-drenched mouth.
Finally Ju, desperate for oxygen, used her hands to push the baron's
genitals away, so that she could take an unencumbered breath.
"I warned you not to stop, fraulein," Gutmayer scolded his panting
sex-captive as his fingers raked her ass-flesh. "And yet you dare to push me
away? You will come to regret such impertinence."
"No, please ... " Ju gasped, "It was only for a moment ... I...I could not
breathe ...." she pleaded, taking a last unfettered breath before lowering her
mouth to the baron's rutting organ.
"Too late, puppchen." Then, an evil smile stole across the baron's flushed
features as he seized the chopsticks and reached toward the dish from which he
had fed her the prawn earlier.
Out of the corner of her eye Ju could see that he had speared one of the
fiery dark-red chilis that had given the prawns their unmistakable 'kung pao'
flavor.
Suddenly Ju felt a powerful hand digging fiercely into one buttock cheek.
And a moment later she felt the unseen chili being rubbed against her puckering
anal opening.
"NGHMPHH!!" she screamed, or tried to, but the baron's hard- pumping
Deutschenschwanz stifled her terror-stricken protest.
"Hold still, verdammt!" the baron raged as he used the ends of the
chopsticks to wedge the chili into Ju's resisting rosette. In doing so he
ruptured the tough outer skin of the chili pod, allowing its acid-like flesh and
juice to seep out and set the walls of her delicate rectum ablaze. Holding on to
her silky black hair with one hand, Gutmayer pressed Ju's mouth back down on his
organ, even as he used the chopsticks to screw the chili even deeper into her
body. "For fighting me, you shall have another!" he grunted as he reached for
another inch-long chili, and, after a brief but intense struggle, he managed to
insert the second pepper alongside the first.
"NGMPHGHFHH!!" Ju moaned again. It had only taken a few moments for the
capsicum in the chilis to begin its devilish work and she began to wriggle her
pelvis in misery. Ju's agonies were compounded when the baron took the thick
champagne cork that he had so carefully preserved, swirled it around in the
beaker of chili paste to lubricate it, and then plugged it deep into her anal
opening, imprisoning the burning chilis.
Then, feeling himself nearing a climax and wishing to prolong his pleasure
for as long as possible, the baron pulled his saliva-wet cock-staff away from
Ju's tearful face. He watched her pelvic and abdominal muscles churn for a
moment, as the fiery chilis breathed their dragon's breath in the entryway to
her sensitive nether-passage. "I thought you might like a brief interval
between courses, my dear," he said gloatingly, as he lifted the chopsticks to
Ju's lips with his left hand as he reached downward with his right.
"A little later you shall have the rest of the dessert I promised you, my
sweet little thief. But for the moment I wish to dine in comfort. And you shall
be my table. Bend backward, fraulein! Until your shoulders are parallel with
the desktop!"
Since she had first climbed onto the desk, Ju had been sitting on her
haunches, with her thighs spread, save for when she had leaned forward to take
the baron's genitals into her mouth. But now she was being asked to lean
backward, so that her body would be perfectly horizontal a few inches above the
surface of the desk. She slid her hands behind her, hoping to use them to
maintain her balance.
"Nein! Nicht so! Hold on to your ankles, puppchen, and bend backward from
the waist!" the baron growled as he reinforced his words by slashing at her
satiny upper thighs with the cane he had just grasped with his right hand.
Ju yelped in pain but seized her slim ankles firmly and leaned back slowly,
feeling the muscles in her thighs tighten as she did so. The baron had rolled
her panties down while he fondled her bottom and now, she knew, her dark
triangle and the fleshy petals of her feminine flower were wantonly displayed.
********
As Hans von Gutmayer watched Ju's lithe, perfectly-proportioned body
trembling from the strain of trying to bend backward while maintaining a
white-knuckled grip on her ankles, the well-traveled Prussian nobleman was
struck by the thought that the Chinese were, in some respects, the most athletic
of all the peoples he had come to know. He had seen Chinese acrobats, men and
women alike, perform prodigies of balance and strength and skill that defied
belief. Europeans tended to dismiss them as worthy opponents because of their
small stature, but he had found that the people between the two great rivers had
a wonderful capacity for concentration and self-discipline. Not to mention a
remarkable stamina, he thought with a cruel smile, as he watched Ju's slender
young body straining to adopt the required position.
"Further!" the baron snapped, stripping away the camisole that was
bunched around her navel before striking Ju sharply across the right thigh with
the rattan. "Do you expect me to dine on an uneven table!"
His son had written him not long before of running into a dreamy young
intellectual named de Coubertin at a rowing competition in Europe. One night
over drinks the Frenchman had told his son of his dream of bringing the youth of
all the nations of the world together for an international athletic competition.
It was a fanciful notion of course, which would probably never come to pass.
But if by some chance it ever did, Baron Hans von Gutmayer had little doubt
that, despite their unprepossessing stature and unimposing physique, the Chinese
would acquit themselves very well, once they had accustomed themselves to the
athletic disciplines of the west.
Ju's was a gymnast's body in the truest sense of the word, he mused,
recalling that that word's Greek root meant 'to train naked'. The ancient
Greeks, who were otherwise so creative, so brilliant, had, so far as he knew,
quite overlooked the exciting possibilities of training the bodies of their
young women. Of driving them, with stern, Spartan-like discipline, to the
limits of their stamina and beyond, until their young supple young bodies were
capable of providing the last ounce of pleasure to their virile trainers. As
Ju's thigh muscles grew taut and the flesh over her smooth belly tightened, the
baron's lips formed themselves into a secret smile. Yes, it would be a signal
pleasure to train this limber, naked beauty, to force her to submit to his every
cruel demand....
