Chapter 123 The Pleasure of the Two Tongues
Hans Von Gutmayer had not quite finished undressing when the two island
demi-goddesses had joined him in the bathing room of the bordello. Ever since
the first moment he had seen Ju soaping and sponging Erika Weiss's magnificent
body, images of that erotic bath had lingered in his memory and he had promised
himself that he would partake of similar pleasures at the first opportunity.
Each of the sisters was dressed in brief, belted robes of white terrycloth
emblazoned in red and gold with the same ideograph that adorned the entrance to
the 'House of Pleasure'. Hans von Gutmayer licked at his lips as his steely
blue eyes explored two pairs of golden-bronzed legs while the island girls bowed
to him submissively. Then Leana, the elder of the two, turned slightly, so that
her back was to him, thus allowing her sister to slowly slip the robe from her
beautifully rounded shoulders.
The baron had had a wide experience of desirable women, but he could not
prevent himself from emitting an almost inaudible grunt of suppressed desire as
the white robe drifted down Leana's tawny back. She caught it at the waist
teasingly, allowing him to feast his eyes at will on the flawless flesh of her
back, but giving him only a tantalizing glimpse of the upper inch or two of her
alluring buttock cleft. Then she inched the robe downward, revealing the subtly
jiggling curves of her deep-grooved derriere a sensuous centimeter at a time.
Leana teasingly lowered the robe until it was little more than a white rope
framing the lower edge of her spankably naked buttocks, before letting it
flutter softly to the floor. Then, wearing only a pair of glittering golden
earrings, she turned coyly toward him, her body moving with the practiced grace
of the bayadere she had been in her native land. She posed for him briefly,
confidently, allowing him to examine every inch of her nude body while he
finished removing and carefully hanging the crisply starched uniform that he had
worn while accompanying Erika to the Yangtze Dragon.
Meanwhile the no less exquisite Mahlua had stepped behind her dark-eyed
sister. Smiling demurely at the baron, Mahlua reached up and removed the two
hairpins which had imprisoned Leana's lustrous hair in a shimmering cocoon on
the top of her head, allowing her sister's raven tresses to spill down her
elegant neck and shoulders in an inky cascade.
As he folded his underwear with Prussian meticulousness and placed them on
a chair alongside his gleaming, mouth-polished boots, the baron watched the eyes
of the islanders as they were drawn to the erection protruding aggressively from
its nest of pale blonde pubic hair. And why would it not protrude, aroused as it
was by the prospect of burying itself to the hilt in Leana's mouthwatering body?
Von Gutmayer's blue eyes swept over the curves and hollows of the Ceylonese
beauty's shapely figure, admiring the perfection of her uptilted breasts, which
were capped with nipples that looked like sweet, dark droplets of Swiss
chocolate. The gentle swell of Leana's mons and her sleek-muscled thighs were
no less enticing. Yet it was the skin of her people, which countless
generations of equatorial sun had darkened to a delicious bronze yet left as
moist as the foliage of their tropical forests, that caused him to suck in his
breath with delight.
Mahlua was still clad in her white robe but it had fallen open in front,
giving the baron an exciting view of her alluringly close-set breasts. The
vice-consul felt his cock throb with lust at the thought of imprisoning his pale
phallus between those caramel-colored mounds of pleasure and working it back and
forth between them until it spat gob after gob of Prussian semen onto those
lovely Asian hillocks. But where Leana's eyes and manner were bold almost to the
point of impudence, her equally beautiful sister seemed to shrink from his
amorous gaze, her every movement betraying her diffidence, her uncertainty.
Somehow, Gutmayer guessed, Leana had managed to protect her younger sister from
the worst excesses of men, even in this den of carnal iniquity. It was Leana, he
imagined, who always took the lead, who performed the more depraved acts, so
that her sister might be spared them. Leana's apparent boldness, he reasoned,
might well be feigned, a means of drawing attention to herself and away from her
sister.
While Gutmayer was ruminating about the nature of the sisters, Mahlua had
undone her own glorious mane of silky black hair. Then she pressed her body
against Leana's from behind, and reached around with both hands, so that the
younger sister's slender fingers rested atop her sister's, forming a perfect
double-V atop Leana's dusky mound d'amour. Then Mahlua slid her fingers down,
gently caressing the insides of her sister's thighs, while at the same moment
Leana slid her own soft hands upward, over the gentle protrusions of her belly
and ribs, to caress her inexpressibly tempting breasts.
Gutmayer gave his lust-swollen genitals a pleasurable squeeze as he watched
the sisters play an erotic four-handed concerto on Leana's quivering body.
While her own hands moved freely across her breasts, lifting and fondling the
sun-warmed mounds, Leana shamelessly widened her stance, parting her legs so
that Mahlua's exploratory fingers would have easy access to the innermost parts
of her being. And her younger sister did not disappoint her, deftly parting the
folds of her sex so that one of Mahlua's mouth-moistened index fingers could
slip inside Leana's body while the other teased her glistening clitoris.
Leana gasped with pleasure and closed her eyes to bask in the ecstasy of
the moment. Gutmayer, too, abandoned himself to depravity, fondling his
Prussian phallus with long, firm strokes, until it seemed to him that his
man-shaft was as hard as a Krupp cannon barrel. Then he stepped into the huge,
steaming bathtub and gestured imperiously for the Ceylonese sisters to join him.
Mahlua nodded shyly, casting her dark brown eyes downward and grasping her
older sister by the shoulders and pushing her toward the tub. Strange, thought
Hans Gutmayer, that even after many months at the House of Madame Wong, the
younger sister still retained an almost virginal timidity. He found her
diffidence both refreshing and arousing -- and grew ever more determined to
put it to the test and exploit it with a ruthless born of long practice.
As Leana stepped boldly toward the tub, Mahlua followed along behind
her, trying to use her sister's body as a shield from the baron's probing eyes.
But when Leana climbed into the tub, there was no place left to hide, and
Mahlua, blushing shyly, let her own robe fall to the floor alongside her
sister's near the base of the commodious tub.
The soft, brown body of the younger sister was, if anything, even more
pleasing than that of her sister. She was a little taller, her long, lithe legs
were every bit as pleasing, and her ripe-nippled breasts were perhaps a trifle
fuller. But whereas Leana moved with a confident feline grace, quickly dropping
to her knees behind the baron in the thigh-high water, Mahlua was unsure of
herself, staring at his massive erection with something approaching awe, before
reaching out to touch it rather tentatively
The two women proceeded to bathe him with silky, soapy hands and soft,
slippery breasts. Telling him that for the moment he must keep his hands at his
side, they attended to his neck and shoulders and chest and back first, soaping
and scrubbing him gently, until every synapse in his upper body was tense with
desire. Then they moved lower, sometimes dipping their heads below the surface
of the frothy, thigh-deep water, their black hair streaming and gliding under
the surface of the bath like some rare and exotic jellyfish. The baron's body
tingled with pleasure as he felt Leana's taut-nippled breasts slide caressingly
up the backs of his thighs, while her soapy fingers slid into the crack between
his buttocks and then deeper still, probing inside, cleansing him, preparing him
for the Pleasure of the Two Tongues that Madame Wong had promised. Meanwhile
Mahlua, on her knees in front of him, cupped his swollen testicles in one tiny
hand even as she teased the fronts of his legs with the tips of her own
soap-slick love-goblets.
Their preparations complete, the Ceylonese sisters set to work. The
baron could feel Leana's mouth wet and warm against his buttocks, while her
fingers spread his cheeks. A moment later he felt the first tantalizing touch
of her pink tongue, as it gently began to inscribe un cercle francais around the
sensitive ring of his anus. At that very moment Mahlua encircled the root of
his glans in her left hand, and squeezed it gently while she lowered her timid
tongue so that it could swirl around the excruciatingly sensitive tip of his
cock.
Hans von Gutmayer shuddered with pleasure, but the moment, though
exquisite, felt somehow lacking. The sisters' lovemaking was utterly sensual,
utterly skillful, and yet utterly ... rehearsed. As if the two of them had
played these same roles before, scores of times with dozens of amorous lovers.
As he watched the innocent-faced Mahlua lick tentatively at the underside of his
cock-shaft, he wondered if the diffident younger sister had ever been compelled
to play the role that her elder sister so artfully and ably was portraying.
Surely, he reasoned, as a malevolent grin crossed his face, Mahlua should have
center stage all to herself for once.
The baron gruffly ordered the two sisters to change positions. His
supposition seemed to have been proved correct when Mahlua fearfully shook her
head 'No', clearly revolted by the prospect of inserting her tongue into his
anus however thoroughly her sister had bathed him.
Angry at her reaction, but gratified by the way in which his appraisal
of their roles had been proven correct, the baron reached down and seized the
thick sash from Mahlua's robe and was about to wind it about her slender wrists
when he was struck by an even more intriguing notion. He turned toward Leana
and pulled the older sister, who had been kneeling behind in neck-deep water,
roughly to her feet and then spun her around so that she stood facing him, with
her back to her sister. The tall Prussian quickly encircled Leana's slender
wrists with the sash and lashed her outstretched arms to an overhead spout which
served as a rudimentary showerhead.
Gutmayer, pleased with his inspiration, tore his eyes away from Leana's
dripping body for a moment to seize the sash from the other robe. It would be
far more exciting, surely, to punish the offender's sister rather than herself,
so that while Leana suffered the pangs of the flesh Mahlua would suffer the even
more gnawing pangs of guilt and helplessness.
Madame Wong did not permit truly punitive chastisements of her girls except
upon the occasion of their periodic stints in the Newgate; but the punishment he
had in mind for Leana would most surely invigorate him, while doing no lasting
damage to her. He plunged Leana's heavy sash into the steaming bathwater,
soaking it thoroughly, and then withdrew it, doubling it over in his hands and
then wringing it out carefully, forming the sodden strip of cloth into a tight,
thick braid.
Leana pulled at her bonds nervously as she watched the baron's
preparations. "Why are you doing this, sir?" she asked him in the familiar
high-pitched tones so common on the sub-continent. "In what way have I offended
you?"
As he finished squeezing the water from his makeshift weapon, Gutmayer
drank in the sight of the brown-skinned beauty standing in the soapy bath which
lapped gently at the juncture of her thighs as if it were hoping to taste the
sweetness between her legs. Leana's slender arms had been drawn upward by the
sash-rope, her jet-black pubic hair glistened with moisture, and her uplifted
breasts and her gently curved belly were wet and gleaming, as alluring as they
were vulnerable.
Gutmayer slapped the wet, tightly-wound towel sharply across Leana's
tender belly, enjoying her pained reaction to the first stinging kiss of the
towel.
"It is your kleine Schwester who has offended me," Gutmayer snarled,
pointing irritably toward the younger sister. "And it shall be her punishment to
see you suffer." Gutmayer punctuated his remark by whipping the saturated towel
smartly across Leana's left breast with a resounding WHAPP!! that sprayed froth
and moisture unto her lovely face.
"Owww!" Leana's soft moan was no more rewarding than Mahlua's
grief-stricken gasp of chagrin.
Gutmayer gestured for Mahlua to run a soapy sponge over her sister's
breasts again, so that they the curves of her breasts peeked out of a pale veil
of gossamer bubbles. He had not used a wet towel in this way in a quarter of a
century, and he wasn't sure what had prompted him to do so now, but as he
snapped the towel-whip sharply across Leana's froth-dappled right breast, he
could not have been happier with the result. Not only did the blows leave their
stinging mark on Leana's burnished flesh, but the relative harmlessness of the
weapon allowed him to use his full strength. With canes and whips a man of
normal strength always had to hold back when flogging a pair of young breasts
for fear of tearing them to pieces. But with a weapon like this ...
He waited patiently for Mahlua to anoint Leana's tempting love-apples
again with fresh streams of soapy water and then ... WHAPP!! He unleashed a
ferocious uppercut that ripped into the underside of Leana's right breast, once
again splattering froth into her soft brown eyes.
... with a weapon like this a man could direct all of his strength, all of
his masculine power, against a pair of sensitive young breasts without fear of
ruining them. There was something almost primeval, something that satisfied a
man's deepest, darkest instincts in that knowledge.
WHAPP!! The baron, consumed by an almost barbaric savagery, slammed the
sodden club viciously into the very center of Leana's still-quivering left
breast. The tail of the improvised flogger caught the dark-skinned beauty flush
on the nipple, causing her dusky brown body to recoil in pain.
Out of the corner of his eye, the baron had been watching Mahlua, who
had been kneeling behind her sister, looking on with a guilt-stricken
expression. It was time to press her into service.
In a recess in a wall above the tub there were a number of containers of
bath oils, lotions, and scents, as well as a variety of feminine grooming aids.
Reaching for a bottle of bath oil, he handed it to Mahlua. "Oil her up, little
one!"
Mahlua was just about to up-end the bath oil when the baron saw
something else, buried in a basket of soaps and suchlike at the far corner of
the tub.
"Wait!" he barked at Mahlua. "First, this," he exclaimed as he held up
a beautifully fashioned cake of soap unlike any that he had ever seen. The soap
was black, for one thing. For another it had been carved or molded into the
shape of a man's genitals - a very well-endowed man's genitals.
Mahlua took it from him nervously, staring at the ebony cock-shaft in
disbelief. "Rub it across your nipples!" Grateful that his demand was so
modest, Mahlua closed her little hand around the bulbous soap testicles and
slowly slid the tip of the soap-phallus back and forth across the tips of her
delectable breasts until her moist nipples stood out like stiff raisins.
"Now - in your mouth! Suck it!!"
Mahlua hesitated for no more than an instant, but in that instant the
Baron whipped the towel-rope into the yielding softness of her sister's tender
breasts yet again. WHAPP!! "Aahhh!"
Reacting to her sister's anguished cry, Mahlua took the soap-cock into
her mouth.
"Deeper!" WHAPP!!! He lashed at Leana's succulent lust-globes again,
catching her smartly on the inner curve of her right breast. "Aaiih!"
With tears of sympathy for her sister in her eyes, Mahlua forced the
phallus as deeply into her mouth as she could.
"Gut! Gut! Sehr schoen," the baron snapped. "Now, put it between her
legs."
Trembling miserably, Mahlua pulled the saliva-wet soap-cock from her
mouth, reached between Leana's wide-spread legs from behind, and positioned the
tip of the phallus against her sister's labia.
"What are you waiting for?" the baron fumed as he gave Leana's left
breast a swift, slashing diagonal stroke.
"Stop! ... Please ... I will do it ..." Mahlua implored him piteously,
as she eased the rigid soap-dildo up into her sister's vagina.
"Deeper! Do you hear me? Deeper, I say!"
Leana, hearing her sister's pathetic sobs, whispered, "It is all right,
sister. Do as he says."
But as Mahlua wedged the thick, dark phallus deeper inside her, even the
brave Leana could not suppress a soft groan of pain.
Despite his imperious commands the baron was frankly surprised that
Leana's petite body could take the entire phallus, but at length the phallus was
buried within her, up to its dark, knobby testicles, which were only a few
inches above the water line of the tub.
By now, Leana's lovely face was a mask of suffering and her captivating
eyes were bright with tears.
"Your sister seems a bit uncomfortable, Mahlua. Perhaps the nice bath
oil massage we promised her would do her good."
Mahlua nodded fearfully and retrieved the bottle of bath oil that
Gutmayer had offered her earlier. She poured a liberal amount of oil across
Leana's shoulders and began to massage her shoulders and upraised arms, knowing
that they must be sore and fatigued from her uncomfortable bondage.
Gutmayer watched this process disinterestedly for half a minute or so,
and then barked, "Her belly, damn you! And her tits!"
Nodding fearfully, Mahlua poured oil into her hands and then reached
around to rub her sister's midsection.
"That's it," the baron said approvingly, as Mahlua rubbed the oil over
Leana's enticingly moist belly. From a chemical point of view the oil did not
mix well with the moisture on her sister's body; but from an aesthetic point of
view, the effect was delicious. Soon Leana's belly-flesh and ribcage gleamed
deliciously in the soft light of the room.
"Ja, ja. Excellent! Now her breasts."
As Mahlua's oil-drenched hands eased their way over Leana's sensitive
breasts, Leana's body seemed to go limp with pleasure. The baron watched the
Ceylonese beauty squirm with sensual delight as her sister oiled her treasures,
cupping them and caressing them, until they were as slick as a well-greased wok.
After grinding the soap-phallus a little deeper into Leana's body, Gutmayer
edged behind Mahlua and copied her movements. He seized her golden-brown mounds
in his large hands and oiled them while she oiled her sister's, kneading her
yielding breast-flesh with true Prussian thoroughness, even as the tips of his
fingers trapped and teased her taut brown nipples.
As he worked the glistening bath oil deeper into Mahlua's slippery
love-gourds he inched closer to her, pressing his upright erection against her
buttock cleft and then pulling her body back against him, so that the deep
cleavage of her bottom-globes pressed snugly against his maleness, thereby
enhancing his pleasure.
The three of remained in this position for a few minutes, each of the
women responding with soft sighs and subtle receptive motions to the attentions
being paid to their sensitive breasts, until the baron grew restless yet again.
He stepped away from Mahlua and returned to the other end of the tub so
that he could face Leana once again. Thanks to her sister's caresses, Leana's
soft brown eyes were once again bright with desire.
"Her nipples!" he snapped to Mahlua, who obediently slid her hands
across Leana's slippery breasts so that her thumbs and forefingers could pluck
gently at the tips of her breasts.
"Nein, Dummerchen! Pinch them!"
Mahlua's dainty fingers worked her sister's lust-buds a bit more
diligently, elongating the tasty morsels slightly while the baron gave the
soap-phallus another vicious inward twist.
"Harder! Or will I have to use this?" Releasing the phallus, the baron
reached into the nook which contained the bath lotions and grooming devices and
removed an emery board. Then he slapped Mahlua's hand away and cupped Leana's
right breast and held the rough surface of the emery board against Leana's
swollen nipple.
He was just about to scrape the length of the abrasive emery board
across Leana's still-smarting nipple, when she gasped, "No ... please ... do as
he says, sister."
There were tears in Mahlua's eyes as she took her sister's tender
nipples between thumb and index finger.
"Your nails, verdammt! Use your nails!"
Mahlua repositioned her fingertips, so that the very tips of her
well-manicured nails were pressed against the base of Leana's quivering nipples.
"Very nice," the baron said in a calmer voice. "Now squeeze ...
slowly."
His left hand slid up and down his thick-veined erection as he watched
with undisguised interest as the pretty nails tightened on the tight brown
nipples. "Harder!"
It was only when the skin around Mahlua's fingernails had become pale
from the pressure she was exerting and Leana's breath was coming in short,
tortured gasps that the baron relented.
"Very well. And now you can practice tongueing your sister, you lazy
whore!" the baron snarled, wading through the bathwater to slash the younger
sister across her shapely backside with the stinging towel. "I want your tongue
so far up her ass that she's wriggling like a fish on a hook!"
Mahlua sank slowly to her knees as the baron immersed the towel in the
soapy bathwater again, reloading, as it were, for the next round of target
practice. His eyes never left the indentations that Mahlua's fingernails had
left on Leana's teardrop-shaped nipples as he carefully wrung out his sturdy
weapon and then, as Mahlua pressed her face tentatively against her sister's
bottom, he lashed out at each of Leana's pouting breasts in turn, setting them
aflame once again.
Then, ignoring her whimpers of pain, he abandoned Leana's lash-stung
breasts for a moment in order to dole out sharp blows to each side of her rib
cage, spinning her upper body around even as Mahlua was trying to hold her lower
body in place.
Watching Mahlua carefully out of the corner of his eye as he fondled his
heavy genitals with carnal abandon, the tall Prussian continued his assault on
Leana's succulent mangos.
Whap!! A blistering forehand to her left breast.
Whap!! A downward slashing backhand that left a trail of fire across her right
breast.
Whap !!! After a quick step to his left, he lashed out with a powerful forehand
that punished both of Leana's defiant nipples, drawing her loudest cry of
protest so far.
Whap!!!! He followed up with a quick pivot which gave him the ideal leverage
to launch an upper-cutting backhand that scalded both of her lust-globes with an
almost inhuman ferocity.
Maddened with his own pleasure and Leana's pain, Hans von Gutymayer
delivered blow after stinging blow to the sides of her yielding breasts in a
furious flurry of forehands and backhands that kept the island beauty's
deliciously dark-nippled breasts dancing to a frenetic staccato rhythm that was
accompanied only by her throaty gasps of misery.
Every manly stroke he delivered to the Ceylonese beauty's impudent breasts
was intoxicating and each lash was more addictive than the one that preceded it.
He paused occasionally to give her kneeling sister a stroke or two across her
bare back, but he always returned to his bound, bare-breasted beauty to unleash
another hailstorm of punishing uppercuts, slicing downstrokes and
nipple-stinging broadsides to Leana's froth-covered love-gourds.
Finally he paused to check on Mahlua and, when he had satisfied himself
that the young beauty's had overcome her fastidiousness and that every
millimeter of her pink tongue was deep inside Leana's puckering anus, he undid
the sash that held Leana's wrists and took her place, standing behind her, with
his back to Mahlua. Then he took Leana's tender breast- mounds into his hands
and gave them a heartless squeeze until her cry of pain induced her raven-haired
sister to spread his buttocks apart, and to begin her loathsome task.
Once he felt her tongue teasing the fleshy portal of his anus, the baron
relaxed his grip on Leana's burning love-globes and spun her around and forced
her to her knees so that she could worship his cock, which had been ready to
explode almost since the moment Mahlua had undone her sister's robe.
And so the "Pleasure of the Two Tongues" continued, for the balance of
the time for which he had paid, as the pair of tropical Rhinemaidens transported
the ruthless German baron to a Valhalla of perverse delights that he had rarely
known. When he sensed that his geyser was about to erupt he rudely pulled away
from Leana's diligent lips and tongue and turned around to face her teary-eyed
sister. He grabbed two handsful of her silky black hair and pulled her mouth
forcefully down onto his pulsing member. He had only time for three of four
strokes before he came, but the strokes were long and deep and pleasurable.
Mahlua began to gag and choke just as he fired the first jets of semen deep into
her mouth, but he held her face down on his semen-spitting cock-shaft until he
had emptied his reservoir of lust.
His lust sated, the baron dressed quickly, leaving the two sisters lying
exhausted in the tub, Leana cradling her tender breasts gently in her hands
while the ebony phallus floated lazily in the water alongside her. Nearby
Mahlua was covertly trying to rinse the taste of him from her mouth.
* * *
When the baron strode out of the bathing room a few minutes later, he
was as immaculately groomed as he had been when he entered. As he made his way
toward the portals of the bordello, he paused momentarily in the Newgate
corridor when he heard a plaintive female voice.
"No ... please ... not the nutcracker again ... for the love of Allah
... I'm sorry ... I swear it."
"Well, then, you sluttish little heathen, you shouldn't have called me
that name, should you?" the voice of the heavy-set man replied. "I think
perhaps you'd better cover her mouth again, my boy," he continued, presumably to
his younger companion.
Fatima's muffled cry of anguish was still echoing pleasantly in the
baron's ears when his gleaming black boots touched the cobblestones that lined
the entryway to the House of Madame Wong.
