The Duke of Yu's Daughter
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“You will do whatever you think best, Master Zhao,” Bo Lien answered. “If you choose to punish me for my insolence after hearing my words, that is your right. I would only ask that you allow me to run the House of Sighs in my own manner while you are away, imposing whatever corrections I think needed, and even from time to time using kindness when I believe that would work best. You may judge me by the results, and if you find anything less than perfect in your house then I will cheerfully accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate.”
Zhao rose to his feet, his face reddening. “You do indeed take liberties, girl,” he growled. “No one has dared to question how I run my own house, and now you would risk the ruination of what I have labored so long and hard to build?”
Bo Lien held her breath. Had she miscalculated and pushed him too far?
Zhao stopped and considered. “It must be admitted, however, that you may possess insights into aspects of my servants that I am incapable of seeing,” he said. “Since you are willing to take full responsibility, I must trust you enough to permit you to use your own methods. I accept your condition. Let us hope for your sake that your experiment is successful.”
Bo Lien smiled. “Thank you, Master Zhao. You predicted that I would not regret my choice of correction and, as always, you were right.”
He stooped to release her collar from the rope, and then carried her to the bed and laid her down. “I have decided not to wait a year to fulfill the marriage contract, as I am satisfied that you will be an adequate wife. We will wed in one month. To celebrate, and to seal our agreement, you will welcome me in your garden gate unless, of course, you have some condition you wish to bring up first.”
Although the final words were spoken half-jestingly, Bo Lien saw that she truly had pushed Zhao to his limit. In any case, the oral assault, and even perhaps the whipping (her breasts still throbbed, although the pain was now only a shadow of what it had been) had aroused her, she realized. She had come to look forward to the combination of pain and pleasure provided by Zhao’s rough brand of lovemaking.
She looked back at him over her shoulder and smiled. “I have two conditions: first, that you take me hard enough to make me beg for mercy, and second that you give me none.” She wagged her delicious bottom at him for punctuation.
Zhao’s rod sprang to new life. He leapt on the bed, seized Bo Lien’s hips in a grip of iron, and pulled her to him. “Little slut,” he roared, jamming his cock into her chrysanthemum. “I accept these conditions as well!”
Chapter Twelve: The Wedding of the Lotus
The wedding of Zhao Hua and Bo Lien was the social event of the season in Qing province. The Lotus of Yu was, of course, famed throughout the Middle Kingdom, and her marriage to anyone would have been big news. But she was not the only reason the event created such a great stir.
Although he was a mere knight and one, moreover, without any distinguished antecedents, Zhao was rumored to be one of the wealthiest men in the province, and was also said to have excellent connections in the Imperial Court. He was, in addition, a man of mystery to his neighbors, who had never been known him to invite anyone to visit his fabulous estate. Zhao could have easily obtained the attendance of practically any member of the greatest noble families in the kingdom, if he had so desired. Instead, he chose to have a comparatively modest guest list.
He did invite the Provincial Governor (Qing was an Imperial province, and the governor was appointed by the Emperor, rather than being filled by inheritance, as in Yu), a man named Ju-Long, and the Emperor’s nephew Wang-Li, the first for business reasons, and the second for personal ones, as Wang-Li was the closest thing to a friend Zhao had. Other than these two men, Zhao had invited only locals including, to Bo Lien’s great surprise, Zhao’s tenants, the peasants who farmed the land on and around the estate.
Perhaps even more surprisingly, he did not invite the father of the bride or any member of her family. He instead instructed Bo Lien to write a message announcing the wedding and explaining that he did not wish to subject the Duke to the terrible road conditions and banditry between Yu and Qing (although in fact the roads were no worse nor the bandits any more obstreperous than usual), and promising to take her back to Yu for a visit in the early spring. To soften Shen-Li’s disappointment, he also sent back the Duke’s promissory note, marked “Paid and discharged”.
Although Zhao had little patience for traditional forms, he acquiesced in certain of the customary practices. The date chosen was selected by an astrologer as the most propitious on the calendar, Bo Lien was brought into the courtyard where the ceremony was to take place in the customary enclosed sedan chair, and her arrival was greeted by the time honored accompaniment of exploding strings of firecrackers.
When she emerged from the sedan chair, Bo Lien was dressed in the red silk skirt normally worn on such occasions and her head was covered with a red toujin (a kind of kerchief), which she removed once she was standing at the side of her husband-to-be. Zhao awaited her on a strip of red carpet, likewise dressed in a red robe embroidered with silver fish, the latter symbolizing wealth and longevity. The ceremony itself was brief, consisting of Zhao and Bo Lien promising the mystical Jade Emperor that they would be forever faithful to each other, and then calling on their ancestral spirits and their guests to witness the marriage.
Then all and sundry adjourned to the great hall, which had been prepared for the wedding banquet. All in attendance were given places at the long tables, even the simplest peasants, who seemed surprised and uncomfortable at being asked to dine with their betters (indeed, most of the peasants who came to the ceremony declined to stay for the feast). An enormous meal was served which included among other delicacies, shark fin, sea cucumber, swift nests and unborn mice in honey.
After the meal, Zhao rose and led his new wife to a raised platform in front of the head table, then raised his hands to call for attention. When the guests eventually were able to tear their attention away from the food, they looked up expectantly.
“My friends, I wish to thank you all for sharing this day of joy with me,” he began. “You all know that the marriage is not complete without the final, and to my mind, most important act of all, the harvesting of the bride’s peach orchard.”
Bo Lien blushed, and there was a soft murmur of surprise from the guests. This was certainly no part of the traditional ceremony. Zhao affected to ignore this reaction.
He turned to Bo Lien. “You are still a virgin, are you not, my Precious Lotus?”
Bo Lien flushed more deeply. “Yes, of course, my dear husband. I have kept myself for you alone.”
“We should let our friends share in the famous beauty of Yu; it would be selfish to do otherwise,” he said. He seized the front of Bo Lien’s dress in both hands, and pulled down and out with all his might. The thin cloth ripped asunder, leaving Bo Lien nude before her wedding guests.
Zhao cast the tattered cloth aside, then said to Bo Lien, who was bent over awkwardly, trying vainly to cover herself with her hands, “Bo Lien, have you forgotten everything I have taught you? Stand properly, wife, lest you shame me with your unruliness before our friends.”
Although she was by now quite used to being obliged to exposing herself before the members of Zhao’s household, Bo Lien had been completely unprepared to be so shamed before a crowd of outsiders on her wedding day. However, mortified though she was, the habit of obedience she had learned was stronger than her sense of humiliation, and she automatically straightened up and placed her hands together on the back of her neck, with her chest thrust out in a fine display of her wondrous round titties, and her legs planted well apart.
The murmur from the crowd grew as they drank in the sight of the blushing naked beauty. Many of them seemed shocked, but no one left.
“Now, as I was saying, the most important act yet remains: the consummation,” Zhao said. “Given the fame of my bride, I can ill afford to leave even the smallest doubt about so important a matter. I would therefore ask
you all to be witnesses again, so that all will know that the Lotus of Yu and I are truly one.”
His hand reached down between Bo Lien’s legs from behind, to cup her sex, and then to spread her and enter her slot. The murmur from the room grew louder.
Tears ran down Bo Lien’s face as she whispered, “Please, my husband, do not do this. You know I will obey your every whim, for you see how I stand here for you when my heart begs me to run, but there is no need to display me so.”
His fingers continued to work inside her as he answered, “The very fact that you would dare to speak so to me is proof that this is needful. For even before our wedding day is over, you already feel free to tell me what I should do. You are in danger of forgetting your place, Bo Lien. I trust that this reminder will stay with you for as long as we remain wedded.”
He pulled his fingers from her and held them up over his head. There was clear evidence of her arousal on them.
“As you see, my friends, Bo Lien is as eager be harvested as I to reap her,” he announced. “Down, wife!” he snapped, turning back to Bo Lien. “Face on the floor, ass up, hands to your ankles.”
Bo Lien flung herself into this by now familiar position, her tear drenched face turned away from the crowd. Zhao did not permit her even this crumb of comfort. “No, bitch, face your guests. They will want to see how well you enjoy the performance of your wifely duty.”
With a sob, she complied, squeezing her eyes closed so that she would not have to see their faces as she crouched naked in this submissive pose.
Zhao expertly manipulated Bo Lien with his fingers until her hips spiraled supplely on his hand and she was panting with need. To her dismay, public humiliation did nothing to dampen the fires of her body; on the contrary, it seemed to make them burn all the hotter.
“Please, please, please…” she whispered as her caressed her intimately. At some point, she did not know exactly when, her pleas for him to stop became pleas for him to enter her. “Please, Master Zhao,” she mumbled. “Take me. I am ready.”
“Say it again, Lotus, but more loudly this time, so that all may hear,” he said. He flicked her stiff stamen for emphasis and she gave a little cry.
“Please take your wife, my husband, make me a woman,” she half-moaned, her lower body now moving bonelessly on his hand.
“Beg me to fuck you, wife, if such is your desire,” Zhao answered.
Bo Lien was lost to all shame. “Yes, I do beg it! Fuck me, Master. I shall die if you do not take me!” She shouted the words without hesitation.
Zhao opened his robe and knelt behind her. As he inserted his great member into her welcoming pouch, he said, “You all shall now witness the plucking of the Lotus of Yu.” He drove into her with a single, mighty thrust.
Bo Lien gave a great cry as her internal barricade was so rudely ripped asunder, and she felt a sharp pain inside. But already she was so near to flowering that this could not delay a mighty outburst, as she climaxed from that first, deep penetration.
“Gods above! Fuck me! Do not stop!” she bellowed, as she drove her hips madly up and down on him, still retaining her grip on her ankles.
“A moment, my wife, and then I will resume,” Zhao said, pulling free of Bo Lien. He displayed his thick rod, which was now clearly marked by a ring of blood halfway down the shaft. “You are all my witnesses, my friends. My honored guests, you look upon the proof that Zhao Hua was the first to enter the Lotus, and that her purity was preserved until this moment. Let now no man claim otherwise.” He dropped back to the floor to re-enter the writhing Bo Lien. “Now we may continue,” he said.
Bo Lien twisted her head around to look up at him. “Ah! Ah! I thank you, Master Zhao. I ask only that you thrust harder!”
Although some of the wedding guests made a great show of disgust at Zhao’s trampling on all respectable tradition, still none of them departed. They stayed on to watch Bo Lien explode in an even more massive orgasm only a few minutes after the first.
Again Zhao withdrew from his wife. “My friends, I must beg your pardon. So caught up was in the celebration of this day that I quite forgot to announce the entertainment I have prepared for you.” He clapped his hands twice, sharply.
Into the room flowed his staff of servant girls, all twenty-three of them, every one of them both young and pretty, wearing nothing but a few wisps of silk and smiles. “Please enjoy to the full my hospitality and use these bitches as you wish. I ask only that you do not permanently damage them. They are trained to please and under orders to obey, and if they fail to satisfy you in any way, you have only to tell me and I promise the difficulty will be cured instantly.”
The servants spread out among the male guests, kissing them, stroking their faces, sitting on their laps. Some of their wives jumped up and left in outrage, but the more adventurous ones stayed on, intrigued by the prospect of sharing such lovely toys with their husbands.
For his two most important guests, Governor Ju-Long and the Emperor’s nephew, Wang-Li, Zhao had reserved a special treat. He beckoned them to join him up on the stage.
“My wife is eager to show her gratitude for the honor you have both bestowed on this house by deigning to attend our wedding, is that not so, my dear?” Zhao asked, yanking her hair to induce a reply.
This was news to Bo Lien, but she knew what answer he expected. “Ah! Ow! Yes, honorable sirs, as ever, my husband speaks no less than the truth,” she replied.
“She therefore asks you to make use of her body for your pleasure, though she realizes that she is unworthy to receive the cocks of such noble gentlemen,” he continued.
Wang-Li, who knew Zhao as well as anyone and shared many of his sexual preferences, was far from surprised by this unusual offer, and judging by the bulge at the waistline of his robe, was nothing loathe to accept it. The Provincial Governor was more reluctant. He did not know Zhao well, had never been in this precise situation before, and was therefore uncertain of the correct protocol for such an occasion.
“I… I thank you, good Zhao… that is, you are most generous, but…” he stuttered.
Zhao eyebrows knitted, his darkening complexion denoting puzzlement with a suggestion of suppressed indignation. “I would take it amiss if you refuse to accept my offer to use my most precious possession, honorable Ju-Long, particularly on this of all days,” he said.
Ju-Long, whose rather inappropriate name meant “powerful dragon”, was short, fat and easily intimidated. Moreover, like many other nobles of Qing, he was in debt to Zhao-Hua and in no position to risk offending his host.
He gulped. “I was so overcome by your generosity that for a moment words failed me,” the Governor of Qing said hastily. “Know that I will accept your priceless gift with the utmost appreciation and pleasure.”
Zhao smiled. “Your words are balm for my troubled heart.” He gestured at the still slavishly crouching Bo Lien. “Please enjoy the gift in the spirit it was given. I request that you enter by her mouth and back door only, as I do not wish to have the parentage of our child in question, should one be this night implanted in her. Bo Lien will be more than happy to accommodate you both at the same time and, although she is too shy to ask it, she prefers that you spank or cane her during the act, as such treatment profoundly heightens her pleasure.” He looked down at his wife. “What say you, Bo Lien? Is this not correct?”
She stared at him, worked her mouth soundlessly once or twice, and then said, “My husband, every word is no less than the absolute truth.” She shifted her gaze to the other two men. “Please allow me to comfort you, my guests.”
This was more than enough of an invitation for the no longer reluctant Ju-Long. He helped Bo Lien up until her hands were under her and she knelt on all fours, and then he opened his robes to release his rampant dragon. Perhaps “lizard” would have been a more appropriate term, for the Governor’s manhood, even at full extension, was a puny thing, less than two-thirds of a chi in length and no thicker than Zhao’s little finger.
 
; He eagerly offered this undersized object to Bo Lien’s mouth, and she serviced it as she had been taught, starting by enveloping his sack, then tonguing it from the base to the tip, and finally swallowing it whole, including the stones, and drawing it in and out of her mouth with careful deliberation. Ju-Long was transported, if his face was anything to judge the matter by. His eyes were closed, and there was a beatific expression on his pudgy face, rather like that of a snake just after it has engulfed a toad.
Bo Lien knew better than to interrupt the attention she was giving the Governor when she felt a blunt object probing at her rear, although she rolled her eyes back as far as possible to see what the Emperor’s nephew was up to. She could see nothing, but it was hardly necessary to see, as there was really very little doubt that he was doing no less than taking Zhao up on his generous offer by entering Bo Lien by her garden gate.
Her sex was still aroused, and Wang-Li was not slow to dip his fingers to find some lubrication, which he smeared onto his manhood before he pressed himself to her. He was, Bo Lien realized, one of the kind of men Zhao had described the day he had opened this way; that is, he had neither time nor thought for preparation, desiring only to bury his manhood inside her as deeply and quickly as possible.