Chapter 113 The Hook of Gwang-zhou
Once the evil-eyed general was out of the cabin, the Prussian baron
quietly turned the key he found in the lock of the cabin door, and then pocketed
it. He spun around to face Erika, who had staggered to her feet in the center
of the room, her breasts heaving in righteous anger. Her left arm was bent
across her upper body, trying to hold the pale bodice in place. As she felt the
baron's amorous gaze she wished now that Ju had chosen a dress that was not
quite so thin, that did not cling to the curves of her body quite so enticingly.
The Prussian aristocrat appraised her approvingly, having restrained
himself with some difficulty from admiring her too obviously during the bumpy
carriage ride and their walk around the harbor. He had not appreciated until
this moment the full impact of her beauty - the striking face with its lovely
features and sparkling blue eyes, the long, golden hair, such as must have
inspired the Grimms to recount the tale of Rapunzel, and the stunning hourglass
figure which had attracted an eye as discriminating as that of George Chan.
While on an assignment in Athens some years earlier, the baron had once
met Heinrich Schliemann, the archaeologist who had unearthed the ruins of
ancient Troy. He recalled how the unprepossessing, somewhat obsessed scholar
had rhapsodized over Helen of Troy, and how her beauty had changed the fate of
entire civilizations. Gutmayer had scoffed inwardly at such an idea at the
time, but the longer he stared at Erika Weiss, the more he believed such a
thing was possible.
And she was his, if only for an hour. His to do with as he wished. His to
possess, to plunder, to enslave.
But his abducted princess was far more irate than the mythical Helen was
reputed to have been.
"How could you - my own countryman - betray me to this ... this monster?"
she fumed. "Have you any idea of what kind of man he is?"
Gutmayer brushed past her and drew a curtain across the window out of which
Captain McMahon and the general had been looking when they had first arrived, so
that no intrusive eyes could observe their encounter. "Fraulein, it is enough
for me to know that he is a fellow aristocrat and officer - and that you are a
common slut. You deserve everything that you'll get from him - and from me!"
the Baron snarled.
"I am no slut!" Erika hissed, outraged.
"Ah, but you are, fraulein," the baron insisted as he spun around to face
her.
The baron's frosty smile revealed nothing of his earlier musings. "Now I
think it's time that I had another look at that splendid body of yours. I've
looked forward to this moment for some time, you know."
"Another look?? W-what are you talking about?" Erika backed away
nervously as the Baron took a purposeful step toward her.
Von Gutmayer smirked knowingly. "You fool!" he sneered in a voice dripping
with Prussian contempt as he edged closer, his thin lips moist, his blue eyes
riveted to Erika's heaving chest. "Do you imagine that I have not seen that
body, those delicious breasts? From the first time I saw them, when that whore
of a maid was bathing you ..."
"You spied on me? But how?" Erika racked her brain as she continued to
retreat. And then she remembered how, on the day Ju had given her that first
sensual bath, she had felt as if she were being watched. "The paintings," she
whispered almost inaudibly, remembering how the eyes of the Kaiser in the
painting on the wall had, at times, seemed eerily alive.
"Precisely, fraulein! That is how I know that you are a slut. I saw the
look in your eyes when you spread those long legs of yours so that that pretty
chinesische puppchen could slide that soapy sponge between them. She is a
lovely little doll, isn't she, your pretty maid?" The baron's brown furrowed
in pleasurable remembrance, even as his voice dropped a half-tone. "The skin on
her sweet little bottom vibrates like a violin string when I give her a taste of
the strap. Oh, you should see how she dances for me! Very charming, indeed.
But I'm expecting far greater pleasures from you, fraulein!" he added with a
lascivious leer.
Erika's head was spinning, as the horrible revelations mounted, and her
fears multiplied. "So that was you, too! The 'lover' she spoke of, who beat
her!" {Chapter 102} "To think that I suspected Schumacher."
"Yes, it was I," the erstwhile Watcher sneered as he clicked his boot-heels
together and bowed stiffly from the waist, as if he were acknowledging praise
from the Kaiser for a victory over the French. "But do not think for a moment
that our China doll didn't pay for that little slip!" He smiled cruelly,
recalling the electric thrill of power and pleasure he had felt when he had let
the punishing spring-loaded clamps snap shut on Ju's perky nipples. "Schumacher
has an eye for the ladies, it is true, but he hasn't got der Sack," the baron
said, crudely grabbing his testicles, "to take his pleasures where he finds
them, as I do."
"But enough about them," the baron continued, as he inched forward,
backing Erika up until her shoulders were flat against the captain's closet. "I
am much more interested in you, fraulein. Will you do me the courtesy of
removing your clothes?" he snarled. "I am fast running short of time. And
patience!"
"Schwein!" Erika exclaimed as she reached out to push him away, but the
powerful Prussian was too strong. He slammed her trembling body violently
against the closet door, leaving her stunned and breathless while his insistent
hands reached for the torn bodice of her dress.
"You had your chance, fraulein," he hissed. But now I will show you how a
Prussian officer deals with rebellious sluts! Just as I taught the maid who
bathed you!" And with a loud grunt, von Gutmayer seized the fabric of Erika's
bodice in both hands and gave it a powerful wrench, tearing the thin material
from neckline to waist and sending buttons spinning across the wooden floor.
Erika flailed at him furiously, clawing and scratching like a wildcat,
eventually drawing blood from his cheek with nails that Ju Hua had manicured to
a fine edge.
"Arrgghh! You dirty whore!!" he bellowed in anger, and then he responded
by driving a knee upward into Erika's midriff with gut-wrenching force. She
would surely have fallen to her knees had he not slammed her back into the
closet door with bone-rattling violence for a second time. For a few seconds
Erika could scarcely breathe and Gutmayer used those seconds well, ripping and
tearing at the fabric of her dress with plundering hands until he had torn it
completely from her body, revealing an eggshell-white camisole and a matching
under-slip.
The red-faced baron paused for a moment to drink in the intoxicating sight
of the delicate silken undergarments that clung to Erika's creamy skin. But the
primeval urge to see even more female flesh soon prevailed and Gutmayer attacked
the delicate camisole next, tugging the flimsy straps down over Erika's rounded
shoulders in a feverish frenzy to liberate her jutting breasts.
Erika took advantage of Gutmayer's preoccupation with her half-revealed
breasts by launching her own knee upward, aiming at the large lump in his
crotch, but the point of her knee glanced harmlessly off his thigh instead of
burying itself in his swollen genitals. Even so, the Prussian grimaced in pain
and spun Erika around and flung her bodily across the small bed on the other
side of the room.
The force of his throw caused Erika's head to strike against the wooden
headboard, stunning her slightly, and giving the enraged baron time to press his
attack. Grinning evilly, he took two quick strides toward the bed, where the
long-legged blonde lay on her side, her skimpy underslip billowing around her
waist, her shapely legs pale against the bright tricolor of the coverlet.
"You're a feisty slut, aren't you!" he growled, as he unsheathed his dress
sword from its ornate scabbard . Then, with a quick movement that suggested
that this technique was by no means new to him, he leaned forward and bunched
the lacy fabric of Erika's flimsy camisole in his left hand, and pushed her onto
her back so that she lay crosswise on the bed. Then he stepped between her
squirming legs and inserted the tip of his gleaming sword into the
taut-stretched silk of the camisole, and slit it length-wise down the middle
with a quick turn of his wrist.
Von Gutmayer hurriedly tossed the sword aside and threw himself on top of
his wriggling captive, spreading her thighs wide with his weight. His hands
clawed at the gaping panels of her dainty undergarment, and he grunted with
primitive lust upon freeing Erika's creamy, pink-nippled treasures from their
silken confinement. Erika flailed at him furiously, but her strength was no
match for his. She could feel his massive erection straining at his woolen
trousers as he managed to pin her legs beneath his own, while at the same time
succeeding in pinning her wrists together above her head.
Having somewhat immobilized his nearly nude conquest, the strapping baron
changed his grip so that he was able to control both of Erika's wrists with his
big left hand, allowing his right hand the freedom to explore more fertile
pastures.
In less time than it took for her heart to beat, Erika felt the baron's
right hand drop to her left hip, give the tattered camisole another tug, and
then slide up her bare belly like a filthy five-legged spider. She tried to
twist her body away, but there was no escaping the inexorable hand as it made
its way slowly up the sensuous curve of her rib cage, en route to an upthrusting
breast.
The baron groaned with man-pleasure as his hand closed on Erika's pliable
breast, fondling it rather gently at first. But then, as Erika continued to
fight him, kicking her legs furiously, if ineffectually, the groans of pleasure
evolved into bestial growls and he began applying punishing pressure to Erika's
breast even as he tried to mash his marauding lips against hers. Turning her
face from his in disgust, Erika cried out in pain and then, with an almost
superhuman effort, she threw the baron to her right and then eluded his
rapacious grasp by rolling quickly to her left, and falling off the bed onto the
floor.
And then she saw it - the sword! - lying on the floor where the baron had
so casually thrown it. She reached for it and seized it by the hilt just as the
snarling baron lunged across the bed and then flew full length across the floor
in a desperate attempt to retrieve his saber.
Erika had never held a sword before, but the semi-nude blonde brandished it
like a champion fencer as she staggered to her feet, fighting to regain her
breath and her composure. She held the tip of the silver blade against the
crouching baron's throat as she forced him to scuttle backward across the floor
until his back came to rest against the side of the bed, and he could retreat
no more. Feeling slightly ridiculous in them, she kicked off her shoes, letting
them slide across the floor against the bookcase.
"How does it feel to be the prey instead of the predator, Herr Baron?" the
barefoot blonde taunted him, her heaving breasts naked under the shredded
panels of her off-white camisole. "I may die on this filthy boat, but you shall
die first!"
Baron von Gutmayer swallowed nervously, feeling the keen point of his own
sword against his adam's apple as he did so. But then the proud aristocrat gave
the statuesque blonde a look of withering scorn. "So you think you have the
upper hand, do you, fraulein?" he snarled. "Kill me, if you dare! But know
this, you ignorant slut! I gave General Wang the name of your pretty little
maid. If anything happens to me, he will send for her on your behalf. She'll
make a pretty plaything for those cut-throats on deck, don't you think? How
long do you think a petite little creature like her would last, Erika, among
animals like them?"
Troubled, Erika tried to hold her sword arm steady, so as not to reveal her
agitation. She remembered the card the baron had given the general when they
had entered the cabin. Had he really written Ju's name and whereabouts on it?
Or was he bluffing?
More confident now, the baron pressed his advantage. "Do you remember when
we boarded the ship, Erika? Did you happen to notice the sailor with the gold
earrings?"
Erika nodded apprehensively. Who could ever forget the swarthy, wild-eyed
figure who had eyed her with such obvious lust when she had strolled down the
deck earlier?
"His name is Gwang-zhou. Did you observe his right hand?" the baron
continued in a satanic voice.
Even though she had the baron at her mercy, Erika was shaking inside like a
leaf. She tried to force herself to remember, but could not. Hadn't he been
standing behind some bales of cargo ... it all seemed so long ago. "N-no."
"Of course, you didn't. That's because he has no right hand. He lost it
when a whore at a waterfront dive in Batavia betrayed him to a pack of Javanese
thugs. He has only a hook now, Erika, but he hates women, especially beautiful
women." The sneering baron paused for a moment to let that image sink in, and
then he continued on in the same diabolical voice. "Think how he could use that
hook, fraulein, if the general were to bring Ju to the Yangtze Dragon. They
say he likes to etch his name with it. And not just on wood and whalebone,
Erika. On flesh ... soft female flesh. Think of it, Erika! Think of
Gwang-zhou carving his name on Ju's arms, her legs, her pretty little brea
...."
"STOP IT!" Erika screamed.
"What would happen to her precious brat of a child, do you think, if your
little friend Ju were to feel the Hook of Gwang-zhou between her legs?"
Erika desperately wanted to cover her ears, to block out the insidious,
taunting voice, but her need to maintain her grip on the sword made it
impossible. She tried to will herself to think, to breathe, to move, but cold
bands of fear had tightened around her chest and icy fingers of terror seemed to
have drained the blood from her limbs. It was all she could do to hold the
sword steady.
The baron had risen cautiously to one knee, his aristocratic aplomb having
returned. Despite their violent struggle, not a hair on his head, not a thread
of his uniform seemed out of place. "Only you can save her, Erika."
"Monster!"
"Her fate is in your hands. Now be a good girl and give me the sword."
"What if you're lying?" Erika mumbled to herself, hardly realizing that she
had spoken the words aloud.
"What if I'm telling the truth?" the baron countered softly with a sinister
smile. "I'm losing patience, girl. I will count to three, and if you have not
given me the sword, I will summon the general and the others. Then, regardless
of whether I live or die, both you and Ju Hua will feel the hook of Gwang-zhou
-- and Shanghai will have yet another orphan!"
"God, help me!" Erika wailed.
"There is no God on the Yangtze Dragon, fraulein," the taunting voice
intoned. "There is only you and I - and the hook of Gwang-zhou! Eins!" he
counted.
Erika's glanced around the cabin desperately, hoping to find someone to
share the responsibility of her fatal choice. But no matter where she looked,
she saw only Ju's imploring eyes and the outstretched hands of a faceless child.
"Zwei!!"
The sword in her hand trembled like a sapling in an April breeze. She was
alone with the devil, and there was no one to help her. It was up to her.
"Drei!!!"
"All right!! All right!!" Erika stepped back, and with a cry of despair,
she let the baron's sword clatter loudly to the floor.
