Chapter 125 The Careless Seamstress
Hans von Gutmayer sat back down on the divan and used an elegant pair of
chopsticks to snatch a bit of chicken from one of the covered dishes on the
tray. He nibbled hungrily at the juicy tidbit while Ju unbuttoned her white
blouse and threw it over the back of the divan. Underneath the blouse, Ju wore
only a virginal white camisole which fitted snugly around her small, but
beautifully-shaped breasts. A moment later the dark skirt drifted to her feet,
and the baron felt his excitement rise at the sight of her golden thighs.
Von Gutmayer held the tips of his chopsticks against his tongue for a long
moment while he ogled the bare legs whose softness and suppleness he had come to
know so well. His faux-righteous anger had for the moment been supplanted by a
pleasurable arousal which had resulted in the huge bulge in his well-tailored
crotch.
"Lovely, quite, quite lovely," he whispered sibilantly. "Ach! We shall
have many ... stimulating ... evenings together in the weeks ahead my sweet
little Chineseschen puppchen!"
Ju shivered at the sound of the word 'stimulating' and turned away from him
slightly in order to throw lay her skirt on top of the blouse. The baron
proceeded to stare at the back of her thighs with a puzzled expression. "What
happened to your legs?" he asked, his curiosity piqued by a reddish blotchiness
on her upper thighs. But before Ju could answer, a knowing grin spread across
his face. "Ah, so that's why Fleischmann was sitting in the back at lunch
today," he chuckled. "The randy old bastard asked me about you after lunch, Ju.
He was most impressed by the ... quality of your service. In fact, he asked me
if I could spare your absence one day next week. He wants you to serve at a
private luncheon that he intends to host. You wouldn't have any objection to a
few hours' extra pay next week would you, Ju?" he smirked salaciously.
Ju did her best to conceal a shudder of revulsion, but knew that this was
not the time to protest. "As you wish, Herr Baron," she murmured. But the
thought of being manhandled again by the filthy-minded textile trader and a few
of his lecherous cronies made her stomach turn. Furthermore it was only when
the baron had mentioned his name that she realized that she had been groped and
fondled by none other than the notorious Friedrich "Fritz" Fleischmann.
********
Fritz Fleischmann's numerous textile and garment enterprises in Shanghai
employed many hundreds of young women, most of whom did piecework in their
cramped living quarters, after having fled the impoverished countryside in hopes
of finding a better life in the bustling metropolis.
But few had found a better life sewing the garments that had made
Fleischmann a very wealthy man.
Mrs Wong, the good-hearted woman who looked after Ju's son, had told her
once about a girl named Xiu Mei. Xiu, the pretty but none-too-dexterous
daughter of a Hunanese farmer who could no longer provide for her, had come to
the city penniless, but had quickly found work sewing for one of Fleischmann's
most exploitative jobbers. But during her second week of employment Xiu not
only failed to meet her demanding quota but ruined a bolt of expensive fabric
in the process. The jobber, anxious to satisfy the rapacity, if not the
avarice, of his mercantile master, arranged for her to be summoned to
Fleischmann's office in a grim, seldom-used warehouse near the harbor for an
after-hours evaluation of her progress.
The brief interview had consisted of Fleischmann and his foreman, his
bullying nephew, Otto, ogling their comely new seamstress while they berated her
for the slowness and shoddiness of her work. When they were done cursing their
apologetic apprentice for her ineptitude, Otto dragged the protesting girl to a
secluded corner of the dark, deserted warehouse.
There, while his white-whiskered uncle looking on approvingly, Otto
Fleischmann had used hoisting chains to lift the hapless young woman several
inches off the ground and then used lengths of discarded rope to bind her
outstretched wrists and widespread ankles to the uprights of an empty storage
rack. The unscrupulous old entrepreneur had watched the X-shaped beauty dangle
helplessly, her shapely body illumined only by a portable oil lantern that he
had hung from one of the uprights, while his ill-tempered foreman slowly and
deliberately cut through every stitch of her clothing with an ancient pair of
fabric shears. As the shreds of her clothing drifted to the floor, the old
Thuringian's liver-spotted hands grew bolder and bolder in stroking and fondling
the sweet young flesh that his nephew had exposed.
When Xiu Mei was naked, her every muscle taut and trembling, her slim,
shapely body glistening with fear-sweat, Fritz Fleischmann calmly stripped off
his belt and let it trail down Xiu's naked back and then through her alluring
buttock-cleft, so that she could feel the toughness of its leather. Meanwhile
the younger man struggled with a pair of corroded wire-cutters before managing
to strip a length of baling wire from a musty bale of Indian cotton.
Once Otto had finally cut through the wire and doubled it over twice in
his brawny hand, the malevolent twosome had demonstrated the pace at which they
expected their under-performing employee to work, unleashing a withering
succession of blows to her back, buttocks and thighs. The two man lashed her
alternately, Otto confining the use of his wicked, improvised flail to vicious,
whistling backhands which raked the flesh of Xiu Mei's well-rounded
bottom-cheeks, while his elderly uncle varied his attack, lashing much less
forcefully at the writhing teenager's back, buttocks and thighs. But the old
man's blows were hardly ineffectual; a half-century of meting out stern
discipline to indolent young women had taught the gnarled old satyr the art of
curling a strip of leather around a female body so that more often than not, the
venomous tip of his belt stung a bare belly, a tender breast, or an unprotected
mons.
After each of the men had dealt Xiu Mei a dozen flesh-ravaging blows that
were intended to impress upon their young apprentice the need to improve her
dilatory pace, Fritz Fleischmann set about illustrating the importance of
careful sewing and needlework. He began by flicking and twisting and tweaking
Xiu's pouting nipples until they stood out from her pale aureoles like stiff
brown spikes. Then, by way of demonstrating his own prowess with thread, he
artfully formed tiny nooses from a spool of red thread before knotting them so
tightly around Xiu's nipples that it seemed that the blood-engorged nubbins
might burst.
Only then did he hold up a pair of shiny new needles in front of the
lantern's glow so that the slender young beauty could appreciate their keenness.
With painstaking care the elder Fleischmann proceeded to press a sharp-tipped
sewing needle against the edges of the most livid of the marks that he and his
kinsman had just left on Xiu's body. As he pricked the weals on the young
seamstress's buttocks and thighs with the glistening needles, Fleischmann was
pleased to see that their well-conceived flogging had increased her sensitivity
to pain rather than dulled it. Each time he pressed the needle against Xiu
Mei's flesh her frenzied gyrations tested the tightness of her bonds. But
though her body writhed this way and that, Otto's ropes did not fail.
Then, after admonishing the naked apprentice that 'close work requires
great care,' Fritz Fleischmann pressed the tip of one of the needles against
the side of a left nipple which the loop of scarlet thread had choked into an
eye-catching tumescence. He jabbed the perky bud playfully with the needle
several times before settling down to business and piercing the sweat-moistened
lust-nugget with a swift, almost bloodless, horizontal thrust.
He stepped back and joined his nephew in watching the golden-skinned
temptress struggle in her bonds for another moment or two before stepping
forward and muttering grimly, "Arbeit ist alle!" and reaching for the second
inch-long needle. For all of his seventy-odd years, there was not the slightest
tremor in the old man's wrinkled hand as he took Xiu Mei's other breast in his
gnarled hand and pressed the tip of the needle directly against the tip of its
dark, blood-rich crest. Then, squinting in the dim light to make sure that his
aim was true, he scowled maliciously at the young beauty, and with an effortful
grimace he forced the needle into her be-threaded nipple with the precision of a
jeweler, driving it hilt-deep into her shuddering mound.
Otto Fleischmann had concluded the evening's counseling session by
trapping the base of their victim's skewered left nipple in the jaws of the
rusty wire-cutters and slowly increasing the pressure of the dull blades until a
hysterical Xiu Mei had begged him to take her virginity if only he would spare
her beauty. After his leering uncle had given him an obliging nod, the cruel
foreman had taken the dark-haired nymph where she hung, impaling her girlish
love-slit on his thick Deutschenspeer from behind. The younger Fleischmann
proceeded to plunge his virile erection into the spread-eagled beauty with such
ruthless, upward-thrusting ferocity that when he was done, his hairy chest and
thighs were matted with crimson, and his genitals were dripping with virginal
blood.
During this dreadful assault from the rear, the aging uncle slowly
extracted the skewer-needle from Xiu's left nipple and used it to prick and
gouge the soft skin of her breasts until they were so streaked and smeared with
red that in the dim light one could hardly see where the blood ended and the
scarlet threads began....
