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Review This Story || Author: Boccaccio

The Jade Pavilion Book II : The Rise of Li Chang

Chapter 115 The Cruel Conquest of Erika Weiss

     Chapter 115  The Cruel Conquest of Erika Weiss
    
    
     "Bitte ...," Erika panted, as she bit her lip in a vain attempt to stifle
the flames of agony that licked at her sensitive breasts.   "Please ... not
again..."
    
     "Nonsense, fraulein. Have you no manners?  We can't leave your rags strewn
around the captain's cabin."
    
     "Please ..."
    
     "The dress!  On the hook!!  Schnell!!"
    
     Erika's hands shook visibly as she took the tattered, once-elegant garment
in her hands.  The baron eyed the ruddy mark the flat of his sword had left on
Erika's succulent breasts with the delight of a connoisseur.  When he had struck
her he had felt a delicious jolt of erotic electricity pass through his
sperm-laden testicles.  He appraised Erika's near nudity with ever-rising
excitement, even as his right hand opened and closed on the sword-hilt,
freshening his grip.
    
     The luscious young blonde was frozen in indecision.  If she reached to hang
the dress on the overhead hook, she was sure that the baron's sword would
deliver a fresh blast of agony to her tender love-globes, which were already
aflame from the first saber-lash.  But if she did not...
    
     "Now, fraulein!  Or shall I call for Gwang-zhou and let you debate with his
hook?!"
    
     Erika shuddered at the thought of the maniacal Chinaman and quickly reached
up and slipped the collar of the garment over the sturdy hook.
    
     But not quickly enough.
    
     "WHAPP!!!  The gleaming sword struck again, flat steel against curved
flesh, crashing into her breast-mounds in a smooth,  up-sweeping arc. The
well-tempered metal found the tender undercurves of Erika's creamy love-turrets
and branded them with a second scalding stripe of pain.
    
     "Eeeaaaaghhhh!!"   Try though she might, Erika could not suppress a scream
as fresh waves of anguish drove her to her knees once again.
    
     "Schweig!  Silence! Or do you want your pathetic whimpers to attract the
attention of General Wang's trusty mariners?"
    
     As Erika cupped her burning breasts in her soft hands, the baron strutted
across the room, pleased with himself.  "Teufel auch!  It feels good to let my
sword breathe again, fraulein!  I can't tell you how long it's been since I've
been able to saber-flog a full-breasted German girl.  My artistry is quite
wasted on these small-bosomed Asian women, you know.  Although I must say that
I've found other ways to amuse myself with them..."  An evil smile passed over
Gutmayer's face as he visualized the Silken Arch, the Lowenbrucke, and the other
deliciously refined torments he had inflicted on Kyoto and some of the other
petite beauties at the House of Madam Wong. {Chapter 76}
     
     The baron stood over the kneeling blonde for a moment and then he slapped
the blade sharply against Erika's upper arm.  "Over there!  Against the bed."
    
     Reluctlantly releasing her somehow soothing grip on her smarting breasts,
Erika crawled on her hands and knees toward the bed, with the Prussian following
her, smacking the sword against her flanks and legs until she had assumed the
desired position - on her knees on the floor, with the backs of her thighs and
buttocks pressed tightly again the mattress of the bed, and her lower legs
extending backward, underneath the wooden bed-frame.
    
     "Knees touching!"
    
     Erika complied, sliding her knees together until a playing card could not
have fit between them
    
     "The panties, fraulein.  Slide them off."
    
     Flushing furiously, Erika hesitated.  But when the baron greeted her
indecision by scraping the blade of his sword painfully across her half-erect
right nipple, she acquiesced.  She slid her thumbs into the waistband of her
lacy undergarment, and eased it down over hips, revealing an alluring triangle
that might have been spun from the purest gold.
    
     "Continue!"
    
     Erika, pushed down on the panties, but with her thighs wedged so closely
together, the garment got hung up in her crotch, and dragging them down her legs
became a degradingly awkward process.
    
     When the pale panties were no more than a pale rope around her knees, the
baron barked out another command.  "Clasp your wrists together behind your
back!"
    
     "B-but...."
    
     SMACKK!! The flat blade of the baron's sword stung the side of a shapely
thigh.  "Schnell!"
    
     Erika, defeated, slid her wrists behind her back, very much aware that even
such a simple motion  would accentuate the proud thrust of her sword-seared
breasts.
    
     The baron eyed the stripes he had imprinted on Erika's pink-crested melons
with satisfaction for a moment, and reached down with his free hand and took her
saber-flattened right nipple between his thumb and forefinger and gave it first
a gentle squeeze and then a more demanding tug, manipulating the little bud
until it firmed and lengthened into a fleshy bullet of desire.
    
     'What a body she had!'  he remarked to himself with awe, as he extended his
hand toward  her other breast.  So beautiful, so responsive, so infinitely
desirable.  He treated Erika's left nipple more roughly, reaching across her
body with his left hand to tweak and twist the puckering pink nubbin until he
could see the corners of his prisoner's azure eyes begin to fill with tears.
    
     When he had teased and tormented both of Erika's nipples into quivering
erection, he took a half-step backward and pressed the tip of his gleaming sword
into the curly blonde nest between her legs.
    
     "Silver and gold," the baron mused under his breath.  "A most appealing
combination, fraulein, wouldn't you agree?"
    
     The kneeling woman held her breath as she felt the razor-sharp tip of the
baron's sword explore her mossy pubic mound,  But so skilled was he, and so
motionless was she, that the blade explored her quivering mons and her delicate
woman-cleft without once breaking the skin.
    
     But after a few moments the Prussian tired of this sport and abruptly
walked over toward the captain's desk.  He seized the armchair that faced it,
and dragged it back across the room and set it on the bare floor, so that it
faced Erika from a distance of some five or six feet.
    
     Then, still holding in the sword in his right hand, the baron took a seat
in the chair, maintaining the same stiff, upright posture that he had adopted
during the carriage ride from the embassy, and extended a dusty black boot in
Erika's direction.
    
     "Clean it!" he ordered imperiously.
    
     Erika looked desperately around the room for a bit of cloth she could use
to clean the baron's boots.  As she did so, she realized why the baron had been
so gracious about allowing her to walk on the planked walkway, while he had
trudged along in the dust; he had known that he would be humiliating her by
using her as a bootblack in an hour's time.  Suddenly, she saw on the floor to
her left, near the bookcase, a scarf-sized piece of fabric that the baron had
ripped  from her dress.  She unclasped her hands and was about to reach for it,
when she felt the sharp tip of the baron's sword again, just below her left
nipple.
    
     "Did I tell you to unclasp your hands, fraulein?" the diabolical voice
whispered.
    
     "N-no, but ..."
    
     ""No, your excellency,' fraulein," the baron corrected her in an irritated
voice as he gave the sword-tip a tiny little flick, drawing a thin crescent of
blood from the lower edge of Erika's left areole. 
    
     "No, your excellency," Erika parroted, wincing in pain. "But you asked me
to clean your boots."
    
     "Ah, but you have tools enough to clean them already," said the Baron with
a sadistic leer.  But before you begin, you are to put your hands behind your
back.   "Yes, that wasn't so difficult now, was it?"  he sneered, when Erika had
followed his directive.  "Can you feel  the wooden rail that runs the length of
the bed?
    
     Erika's hands felt around behind her back and found it.
    
     "You will need to hang on to that rail, fraulein, while you clean my
boots."
    
     When Erika glanced at him quizzically, his lip twisted upward into a 
sardonic, gloating smile.  "Because you are to use your beautiful golden hair,
fraulein, to clean my boots! Quickly!" he snapped as he spanked the outer curve
of her left breast with the flat of his sword.
    
     As Erika leaned forward to comply with his request, Gutmayer felt a fresh
surge of pleasure course through his loins at the site of Erika's mouth-watering
breasts, emboldened by her arms-behind-the-back posture, jutting at him
obscenely, her brownish-pink nipples still distended from his earlier
ministrations.  The visceral thrill of pleasure he had felt when he had
delivered the two blows that had reddened the peaches-and-cream perfection of
her breast-flesh had sorely tempted him to change his mind about turning this
blonde goddess over to the tender mercies of General Wang.  What, he wondered,
would the general say if he were to tell him that he wanted to  keep this
magnificent creature for his own dark pleasures,  rather than selling her to the
Chinese warlord as he had promised.  But the price the General had offered was
much too high to turn down.  A cruel smile crossed his lips as Erika bent her
head to sweep the surface dust from his boots with her golden hair.  It was a
price that in one way or another, Erika herself would have to pay. 
    
     Clutching the bed-rail behind her, Erika knelt before the sadistic Prussian
at a forty-five degree angle with her bare buttocks pressed against the edge of
the bed. In order to clean the baron's boots, she was obliged to bend forward so
that her sword-lashed lust-globes hung from her chest like ripe, juicy mangos. 
    
     As he watched her lean forward, Hans Gutmayer gave a long sigh of pleasure. 
He had always founds the backs of trim young women to be a source of great
beauty.  There was a lovely geometry to be found there, he thought.  The long
sides of the quadrilateral narrowing as one's eye traced the lines of her back
from shoulder tips to waist.  And who could not enjoy the gentle indentations of
vertebrae and shoulder blades and beautifully arched ribs against soft skin?
    
     Erika, of course, was not at all concerned about her own appearance but
deathly fearful of her fate.  Apparently the baron had sold her, like a piece of
meat, to the evil General Wang, who in turn hoped to profit by returning her to
George Chan.  Three black-hearted villains, each worse than the other.  Had it
only been last night that Daniel Kauffmann had held her in his arms?  It seemed
like several lifetimes.  I must be strong, she told herself. I must endure, if
ever I am to feel those gentle arms again.
    
     Steeled to her unjust fate, Erika leaned forward awkwardly from the waist,
holding on to the bedrail grimly so that she would not fall flat on her tender
breasts.  Fortunately the baron's boot was several inches off the ground so that
even with her arms stretched behind her and her legs drawn far back under the
bed, she was just able to maintain her balance.  Slowly, she began to use her
long, golden hair, on which Ju had lavished such great care only hours earlier,
like a feather duster, brushing her tresses back and forth across the baron's
calf-length boots until most of the surface dust was gone.
    
     When she was done, he extended the toe of his boot and lifted Erika's
downcast chin so that their eyes met.  Then he inserted the toe of his black
boot in Erika's navel and slowly dragged it upward, between her close-set
breasts.
    
     The baron seemed to feel the delicious pressure of her breasts even through
the stiff leather, as he worked his foot back and forth in her opulent cleavage,
enjoying the disgust he read in Erika's sparkling blue eyes.  After a moment, he
artfully used the toe of his boot to etch a circle around Erika's left breast,
the tip of his boot never losing contact with her yielding breast-flesh.
    
     Erika thought that the leather games were done when the baron had completed
his circumnavigation of her breast, but in fact they were just beginning.  He
pressed his boot-toe against the very center of her breast, relishing her gasp
of pain when he touched her taut, tender nipple, and then he slid the toe of his
boot back and forth against the pink nugget, smiling evilly as Erika bit her lip
to keep from crying out in pain.
    
     "You have cleaned my boots, well, fraulein," the Baron said grudgingly. 
"Now polish them, if you please."
    
     Biting her tongue to keep from snarling at her tormentor, Erika bent still
further forward so that her pink tongue could just touch the toe-tip of the
baron's boots.  She extended it slowly, feeling more debased than at any time in
her life....



Review This Story || Author: Boccaccio
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