The Duke of Yu's Daughter
Page 11
So, although she had become somewhat inured to being used in this fashion by Zhao (but not to the extent that the act did not involve painful stretching each time), she could not keep herself from crying out in pain around Ju-Long, or from asking Wang-Li to kindly enter her more gently. “Eeeee, ahhh ohhhh ahhhhh!” she mumbled, meaning “Please, not so fast!”
If he understood, he gave no sign of it, unless his redoubled efforts to force open the barrier might be consider such. He pulled Bo Lien’s hips to himself with maniacal strength, while simultaneously bearing down with his rod. The difficulty was that, while Wang-Li was not endowed with unusual length, indeed he was somewhat shorter than Zhao, who was Bo Lien’s only point of comparison, the dragon of the Emperor’s nephew was notable for its girth. He was perhaps half again as thick as Zhao, who was anything but small himself. Thus, although the Lotus did her utmost to master her body, commanding her rear aperture to relax and allow Wang-Li’s manhood free access, this was not enough.
“It is like trying to storm an impassible fortress,” he complained to Zhao who stood nearby, watching with interest, when his initial efforts were defeated. “I have never before encountered so tight a hole. How do you get into the little bitch?”
Zhao handed him a crop made of leather wrapped around a core of whalebone. “Try stroking her with this as you press downward,” he suggested. “Perhaps that will open the door.”
Wang-Li snapped the rod down to score on the outside of Bo Lien’s thigh, drawing a muffled scream (and incidentally providing a delightful sensation for the Provincial Governor), and leaned into her, putting his full weight behind the head of his organ.
This broke the impasse. When Bo Lien drew in the breath to scream, her besieged muscle opened in the very smallest degree and this was enough for Wang-Li. He used the moment to its full advantage, driving half his length through the opening in an instant. Bo Lien shrieked again as her chrysanthemum was obliged to accommodate itself to the unaccustomed thickness of Wang-Li, expanding itself agonizingly around him.
These last calls of pain proved to be all that was needed to bring Ju-Long to his peak. He exploded.
“Ah! Ah! That was… very fine… indeed,” he panted, red-faced and sweating, “…and I th… thank you… for it… my lovely hostess.”
The Lotus, who would have normally fashioned a gracious reply, was at that moment too preoccupied to observe customary practices. For Wang-Li with a great effort had at that very moment, managed to force the remainder of his ramrod into her narrow passage, a most uncomfortable experience for Bo Lien.
She screamed lustily. “Eeeee! Eeeee! Please sir, if only you would permit me… ahh!... a moment or…. two, to accustom myself… oh!... to the size of your noble organ… eeeee!...”
Wang-Li paid no attention. He looked up at Zhao and said, “By Pangu’s balls, the little slut grips me as if she means to tear my cock from my body!” he exclaimed. He ignored Bo Lien’s pathetic groans as he drew his organ back. “It is as if I was being squeezed in a fist,” he marveled.
“Yes, I thought you might find her to your liking,” Zhao said, nodding. “But you have not yet sampled the delights of the Lotus of Yu in full, my friend. I recommend that you fondle her pouch, if you wish to learn something of her true capacities.”
“Thank you, I will,” Wang-Li replied. He slid his hand down between Bo Lien’s thighs and sought out her love button. He was surprised when he found it as hard and slick as polished jade, but not nearly as surprised as he was a moment later when, after he seized the little protuberance, the girl beneath him erupted in a colossal orgasm. She moaned, screamed for him to go deeper, writhed like a snake and clenched his dragon even more tightly.
Wang-Li had already been close to erupting. When Bo Lien flowered so emphatically, this caused him to explode. His thick stalk pulsed inside her tunnel, spurting his male essence into her.
For Bo Lien, who had thought that she was beyond shame, this was a new and painful kind of humiliation. It had been degrading enough when Zhao had taken her virginity before the assembled wedding guests, and even more when he had offered her to two strange men on her wedding day, but to be made to climax while being publicly taken this way (even if it was by the Emperor’s nephew) represented a new low in her existence. As she lay prone beneath the sweaty form of Wang-Li, Bo Lien wondered if there was any limit to the sadistic imagination of her new husband.
Zhao was not thinking about his new spouse. He was standing with his arms folded across his chest, surveying the great banquet hall to see if all was proceeding satisfactorily.
It was. The remaining guests were not slow in taking advantage of the sweet feminine flesh offered to them. Xiu Mei and Shushun had been tied up with the strips of silk, which had been her inadequate clothing, and were now each entertaining a pair of male guests with their front and rear holes. Zhao saw that the chief of the local school of astrology was sharing little Nuan Lui with the town fortuneteller, the former in her mouth, and the latter by either her back entrance or in the conventional fashion (it was impossible to tell from his angle). This was notable for two reasons. First, the two men were long-time personal enemies and professional rivals, and second because they were both such staid, respectable and venerable figures that Zhao would not have expected them to ride the little maid with such youthful vigor, or indeed to be interested in futtering young women at all, at their age.
He nodded. The affair was a success, he decided. No one who attended was ever likely to forget the wedding of Zhao Hua and Bo Lien in the House of Sighs.
Chapter Thirteen: Mistress of the House
In after years, Bo Lien proved to be the ideal mate for Zhao, both in the bedroom when he was in residence and as his majordomo during his frequent and often extended absences on business. She ran the estate in her own way, using both love and fear to maintain discipline so well that Zhao never found anything to criticize in the service when he returned from his journeys.
For the Lotus was both lovely and lovable, and no servant, male or female, could resist her when she made the effort to charm them. They would go to extraordinary lengths simply to win a smile from the mistress of the house. They were also aware that Zhao would hold her responsible for any slackness and would punish Bo Lien severely, so they made doubly certain there would be no cause for complaint.
But Bo Lien also learned to use the rod to keep the household in harmony. Her punishments were issued less frequently than Zhao’s, but they were no less rigorous. Every servant learned that there was steel behind her lovely exterior, and to a man or woman they respected her quite as much as they did Zhao himself, and they responded to her orders even more zealously.
Chao-Xing remained Bo Lien’s special friend and bedmate when the master of the house was away, and the more time the two girls spent together, the hotter the flame of their passion burned.
“Dearest Bo Lien,” Morning Star said as they lay together in bed one morning, their slender limbs intertwined, “may I tell you of as wonderful dream I had last night?”
“You may tell me whatever you desire, my beloved,” Bo Lien answered, kissing her lightly on the lips. This led to other activities which precluded Chao-Xing relating her dream, and it was not until after a considerable time had passed, and both girls were flushed and perspiring from their exertions, that she was able to speak coherently again.
“In my dream, you were the sole mistress of this house, and we lived together with one purpose only: to make ourselves happy,” Morning Star said. She sighed. “It was wonderful.”
“And, in this dream, what had become of Master Zhao?” the Lotus asked.
“I do not know. It seemed to my dream self that he had simply never returned from one of his journeys, and I knew no more,” she answered.
Bo Lien’s face grew stern. “It is most disloyal for a servant to speak in such a way of the death of her master, my honorable husband,” she said. “I shall be forced to punish you, to correct such outrageous behavior.�
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She swung her legs around to dangle over the side of the bed, and ordered Chao-Xing to lay herself across her lap for her punishment. After twenty strokes, the erring girl’s bottom cheeks were glowing redly and were warm to the touch. Chao-Xing looked up at her mistress and tearfully begged for forgiveness.
“If you feel you have learned your lesson, then of course you are forgiven,” Bo Lien said graciously. “Let us make up the matter.” She opened her arms and Morning Star embraced her, and their bodies pressed together as passionately as if they had not made love only a short time before. For a long time after, there could be heard only the soft sounds of kisses, whispered words of love and girlish sighs of pleasure.
Did Morning Star’s dream ever come true? Certainly, Zhao’s profession was a dangerous one, with bad roads, bandits, strange wild beasts and deadly diseases and other threats to his life on trading trips to the barbarian lands, so it is not unlikely that he eventually failed to return from one of his long journeys. We do not know for certain, for no tale of the later years of the Lotus of Yu has come down to us, so we do not know whether she finally found happiness with her true love, Chao-Xing. In the end, we must believe whatever our own heart tells us is true.
The End