Chapter 12 Mai-Lee
Meanwhile, Richard Chan had followed Mai-Lee to the doorway that led to the
secret staircase, after leaving George alone with the beleaguered Peony.
Richard, now aflame with a lust ignited by the brutal flogging of the comely
young pleasure-girl, was about three steps behind Mai-Lee as they climbed the
narrow staircase.
Mai-Lee had only reached the fifth step, when without turning around, she
reached down and began to lift the floor-length burgundy nightgown.
By the seventh step the gown was up to her knees, her shapely calves pale
in the torchlit passageway. By the ninth step the gown was at mid-thigh;
Richard, a few steps below, drank in the sight of those long, dancer's legs just
above him, her muscles tensing and relaxing, as her feet came to rest on each
step.
By the twelfth step, Mai-Lee had lifted the silken garment so that it
revealed half of her tempting, twitching derriere. Her bottomcheeks seemed to
do a lewd dance in Richard's face, as he followed her closely, his face no more
than a foot from her churning buttocks. His lover had anointed her body with
the fragrant oil of mimosa this night; the sweet scent of her body freshened the
still air of the dark staircase.
For the next few steps, Mai-Lee deftly raised and lowered the wine-colored
robe, first showing her lord and master half of her deep, dark butt-cleft, than
nearly all of it, then hiding it again save for the lovely place where her
bottom curved into her supple thighs. Richard Chan reached out and touched her
warm, rounded bottom, marveling at the infant-like softness of Mai-Lee's skin,
the result of a daily regimen of pampering and massage.
It was strange, thought Richard. Not two minutes ago he had been flogging
a completely nude beauty in the dungeon. Arousing? Beyond question. But no
more so than the seductive now-you-see-it-now-you-don't sexual witchcraft of his
#1 concubine.
Moments later they had turned the corner of the first landing, and were out
of sight of anyone entering the staircase from below. The Eurasian beauty let
the robe fall as she turned to face her Master.
Her green-black eyes flashed at her lover, as she fumbled with the sash to
her gown. "I've been waiting for you to come to our bed-chamber for hours, Lord
Chan," she exclaimed with a most fetching submissiveness, as she undid the
silken knot, letting the gown fall open, but holding it together at her waist.
The silver-robed ganglord's thin-slitted eyes were drawn magnetically to
the deep, narrow V at the front of Mai-Lee's gown, the inner slopes of her
succulent breasts being frankly revealed to his gaze.
"Please master, you first." Mai-Lee bowed and gestured for him to edge
past her on the narrow landing. Disappointed that he would no longer be in a
position to watch her climb the staircase, Chan frowned but squeezed past her,
feeling the bullet-hard nipples of her breasts pressing against him as he did
so. His cock was as hard as the stone walls on either side of them. Richard
Chan was used to wielding absolute power over his trusted officers and his
thousands of foot-soldiers. But it was pleasant, now and then, to relax and let
Mai-Lee orchestrate their carnal interludes; neither her beauty, her skill, nor
her erotic imagination had ever been found wanting.
Passing her, Richard Chan had climbed three more steps, his back to his
concubine, when he heard Mai-Lee's voice, soft and husky. "Master?" Chan
slowly turned, to see Mai-Lee standing two steps below him, her hands on the
railings of the staircase, the opening in the robe at least a foot wide.
Despite the hundreds of hours he had spent with her during her sojourn at
the Black Pagoda, he still could not get enough of her body; in his days at
university in England he had had occasion to see the ethereal sylphs of
Botticelli, the voluptuous women of Rubens, the frankly sensual nudes of Manet.
But for all their vaunted skill, none of these masters had captured on canvas a
woman more beautiful than the one that stood before him.
She was the answer to a satyr's prayers, a lecher's dream come true. Long,
silky raven tresses cascaded down upon her soft sensuous shoulders. The
flickering torchlight seemed to accentuate the flashing highlights of her
green-black eyes, the prominent thrust of her cheekbones, the confident, knowing
set of her mouth and chin. Her breasts, though not quite so large as those of
the far taller Erika Weiss, were equally fine -- lusciously full, yet blessed
with all of the appetizing firmness of youth. The tastiness of Mai-Lee's
love-melons was enhanced by a pair of smallish brown aureoles, tipped with
nipples as rich and tempting as chocolate chips. The very tips of her breast
buds gave the illusion, as he had noticed before, of being constantly aquiver,
as if gently oscillating to the pulsing beat of some unheard rhythm.
Mai-Lee's torso, longer than that of most Chinese girls, tapered teasingly
to a waist slender enough to please the most stylish couturieres of Paris; her
navel was a deep and dainty invitation to pleasure. Mai-Lee's rounded hips were
rather broad for an Asian woman, and her legs, well-toned by hours of rigorous
exercise, much of it in the bed-chamber, were shapely and athletic without being
overly muscular. Between them was a dark-rimmed feminine treasure that she kept
carefully groomed with a tiny pair of ivory-handled clippers. Her labia were
alluringly prominent, her clitoris was positively glistening with desire.
Such was the delicious sight that greeted Richard Chan when he turned to
face his paramour. But he had only a few seconds to take this vision of
loveliness in, for Mai-Lee's hands were at his waist, tugging at his clothing.
Within seconds she had stripped off his shining robe, leaving the crime lord
standing two steps above her, his ardent cock straining upward and outward on a
sharp angle from its nest of dark pubic hair.
"Ayeee-yah! You are so hard, Lord Chan!" Mai-Lee exclaimed breathlessly.
A split-second later, Mai-Lee's graceful head dove for that swollen prize,
as if she were one of the fabled Japanese cormorant fishing-birds, and his
manhood was the tastiest product of the seven seas. The first touch of her
moist pink lips on his throbbing blue-veined organ was electric, as it always
was. Richard Chan emitted a soft "Ahhhh" of delight and held on to the railings
of the staircase, while the beauteous Mai-Lee, standing just below him,
worshipped at the fleshy altar of his lust.
There were tens of thousands of attractive women in Shanghai; perhaps a
thousand of whom could rightfully be called beautiful -- and the Lord of the
Black Scorpions had had many of them. But there were none, in his experience,
who were blessed with the mouth, the lips, the tongue, and the erotic wizardry
of Mai-Lee Tan. She was a fellatrix nonpareil.
The ravishing temptress seemed to have an almost mystical sense of a man's
nervous system; it was as if she had a diagram of the precise location of every
nerve ending in a man's body, so skillful was she. At first her mouth closed on
just the tip of her master's stalwart organ, moistening it, and then she pulled
back momentarily, letting his proud staff pulse hungrily in the air for a
moment.
"Ahhh. So big-g-g, Master! And so, mmm, mmm, delicious!" Mai-Lee
enthused, with just the right degree of servility, licking her ruby lips with a
moist pink tongue, while looking up at her lord with worshipful jade-green eyes.
Mai-Lee was arrogance personified with nearly every one else in the Black
Pagoda, but with Richard Chan she adopted the seductive persona of a submissive
maiden.
Mai-Lee not only had the mouth of a virtuosa - a mouth that seemingly could
play a thousand tunes of desire on a male organ, but she had the soulfully
submissive eyes of a classic seductress. She had a way of looking into a man's
eyes, while she teased him to tortured ecstacy, that made him feel as if he were
the most handsome, the most heroic, and - especially - the most virile man among
the teeming multitudes of Cathay. Richard Chan had no doubt whatever that those
incandescent green eyes could have seduced the most righteous of monks from the
eight-fold path.
A moment later, Mai-Lee was lifting his throbbing penis high with her left
hand, while her tongue attacked the base of his shaft, at the excruciatingly
sensitive juncture of his scrotal sac. Then cupping his testicles -- so
semen-laden that they had swollen from the size of young Chinese apricots to
that of ripe walnuts -- she laved the underside of his penis with a series of
long, moist, tingling tongue-strokes.
Chan groaned in delight. After a minute or so of that exquisite oral
caress, Mai-Lee released his quivering maleness and his lust-filled balls, and
put her soft hands on the outsides of his naked thighs, and stroked his legs
expertly with the edges of her long scarlet nails while she took him into her
talented mouth again. She swirled her tongue around his mouth-filling erection,
tasting him, licking him, sucking him, as if his stiff manhood were some thick
confection.
The Eurasian beauty's knowing hands had climbed to his ass now, and played
over the muscles of his buttocks, applying gentle pressure suggesting that he
thrust forward at her command. Chan obliged her; still holding on to the
staircase railings for balance, he begin to move his hips forward, in time with
her digital pressure.
Mai-Lee, unaccountably at such a young age, had mastered the art of throat
control; Richard Chan had throat-fucked hundreds of women, some of them willing
partners, most decidedly not. Few had there been who had not been susceptible
to choking on his swollen spear when his lunges had become longer, harder, and
deeper. Which, from the point of view of imposing his will on a resisting woman
was very satisfying; but purely from the point of view of sensual pleasure, he
was grateful that his #1 concubine could take every centimeter of his engine of
lust into the moist warmth of her mouth and throat, and somehow manage to
applying oral pressure and pleasure to every square inch of his cock at once.
The commander of the Black Scorpions was grunting with lust now at each
thrust forward; with her unfailing knack for sensing his point of no return,
Mai-Lee let his saliva-coated member slip from between her lips, lifted it up,
and then dipped forward so she could take his hairy balls into her mouth. She
suckled at them adoringly, rolling them around in the hot cavern of her mouth,
even as one soft hand stroked his penis from root to tip while the other
clutched at his buttocks. A knowing finger inserted itself into his anus, as
she sucked him, gently prodding his sensitive prostrate gland.
Mai-Lee's oral love-making continued for several more minutes, time and
again drawing Richard Chan up to the very edge of the precipice of ecstacy,
before pulling him back. Her left hand was between her own legs now, damp with
her own juices, while her right hand was wrapped around the base of her master's
cock as her teasing tongue tantalized its tip.
Finally, she released him and scampered past him up the stairs. Breathing
heavily, Richard turned around, facing upward. Mai-Lee had stopped and bent
over, her heart--shaped bottom high in the air, her legs spread wide, her pussy
positively glistening with lust.
"Now, Master. Put it in me! All of it!"
Richard Chan was on her in a flash. Standing one step below his willing
sex-slave, The Master of the Black Scorpions inserted his saliva-covered,
blue-veined engine of lust between the fleshy folds of Mai-Lee's inviting
treasure, and thrust inward, burying his lance deep inside her. Mai-Lee Tan
cooed with sensual delight as the criminal mastermind began a series of long
deep strokes, filling her tingling pussy with his maleness.
Mai-Lee was bent over double, her weight supported by her hands which clung
tightly to one of the steps, while Richard drove into her squirming, suctioning,
cunt. He grabbed onto the side rails of the staircase for extra leverage, and
lunged even harder, burying himself to the balls, as her pelvis seemed to move
in three directions at once -- in slow, sensual circles, from side to side, and
forward and back, milking his maleness with a sexual artistry unlike any he had
ever known.
"Harder, Master! Deeper!" Mai-Lee mewed suggestively as she worked her
pelvic muscles, urging Chan to fuck her even more aggressively, which he
promptly did.
After a few more minutes of this erotic bliss, The Lord of the Black
Pagoda, grunting and sweating like a common coolie, erupted inside his exquisite
dark-haired concubine even as she shuddered in the throes of her third orgasm.
The two of them remained welded in that position for a long minute until
Richard withdrew, and they both dressed. They were almost completely
presentable when they heard the door to the dungeon, two flights below creak
omen, signalling George's ascent up the staircase.
They quickly trudged up the remaining two flights of stairs, and opened the
door leading to the main hall of the first floor. Just before they they did so
they heard a piercing whistle. Followed by a rush of footsteps, as if a dozen
people had taken flight.
Which is, in fact, precisely what had happened. Hsien, the plump
house-keeper, had suggested to Dao that they notify the entire household of the
exotic sight to be seen in the doorway of Richard Chan's salon. And for the
last hour or so a steady stream of voyeurs, mostly men, but a few women too,
had filed past the bare-breasted blonde posed so shamelessly in the doorway.
Dao had collected a coin from each one, and a terra cotta urn in the hallway was
half-full with the revenue from Hsien's clever enterprise.
Meanwhile Erika Weiss had been forced to kneel in abject humiliation, a
degraded sexual spectacle served up for the benefit of the seemingly endless
parade of chimneysweeps and cooks, of garbage-haulers and gardeners, of
laundrymen in sanitary white and foul-smelling latrine-cleaners that slowly
filed by. The muscles in her arms and shoulders were screaming with fatigue,
having been held behind her head for over an hour. But that pain was much less
hurtful than the cruel ridicule to which she was subjected.
Every man that passed elbowed his neighbors in line, commenting lewdly on
her taut-nippled, pole-battered breasts, taunting her with the filthiest of
remarks and the most lurid of gestures. One by one they trudged slowly past in
single file, mocking her near nudity, pointing at the rude wooden pole that
protruded from her cunt. Joking crudely about wanting to trade places with that
fortunate broom-handle.
For a second coin, a passer-bye was entitled to give the thick broom handle
a good twist and dozens of men had taken advantage of this once in a lifetime
opportunity to debase a European, some slight solace for the way in which the
alien intruders had plundered their proud land.
Dao had dispatched Hsien to listen at the staircase for the return of the
brothers Chan, and when she had heard the footsteps of Richard Chan and his
concubine, she had issued a shrill whistle, and within seconds, the few
remaining stragglers had dispersed.
When Richard Chan approached the door of the salon, he found Dao at his
station, Yian sweeping at imagined cobwebs high on the plastered walls and Hsien
dusting the terra cotta urn on the small table opposite the entrance to the
salon.
Erika Weiss was as they had left her, save for the fact that the crimson
cheong-sam seemed to have fallen away from her mouth-watering breasts, and tears
of humiliation were streaming down her face.
Moments later, George Chan rejoined them, somewhat winded from as thorough
an ass-fucking as he'd ever administered. Peony had at first been something
less than whole-heartedly appreciative of the younger Chan's thick cock at her
rear portal, but another dozen stripes of the hardwood cane across her sweetly
rounded buttocks had soon induced her to greet the massive intruder with a
little more enthusiasm.
And he had fucked her in the English manner, long and hard, his cruel hands
digging into the tender cones of her breasts while he jack-hammered his way into
her deliciously tight rectal channel. He had left Peony chained, naked, and
exhausted, a thick trail of semen dripping from her lovely ass.
Beaming, as always, George greeted his brother and Mai-Lee, who did not
seem altogether pleased to find a nearly naked Nordic goddess in her lover's
den.
"I hope you enjoyed your stay here, Fraulein Weiss," George chuckled,
enjoying her debasement. "Tell me, -- it was Dao, wasn't it? - did my new pet
obey my command? Did she keep her elbows up and her tits out?"
The ugly guard, remembering the looks of hatred Erika Weiss had given him,
gave her a sardonic style. "No sir. Five minutes after you left, she complained
that she was tired and put her arms down."
Erika shook her head frantically, "Nein, nein!"
Dao went on, "I warned her twice, sir, but she wouldn't listen -- and she
said that you didn't have the balls to punish her." Dao pretending to just
notice Mai-Lee's presence, added "Excuse my language, miss," in a fawning voice.
Erika was seething with rage "Lugner!" She looked about her in despair,
"He's lying. Mein Gott, you must believe me...." But she was greeted with
nothing but stony glares, and quickly her rage melted into fear. "Someone...?
Please...?"
"It is as Dao said, sir," Yian chimed in from the hallway. "I passed by
several times; I am ashamed to repeat the names she called you and the Master."
Yian gave Erika Weiss a wicked sneer, turning her broom as she spoke.
The beautiful blonde, a captive in a cruel world, put her face in her
hands and wept. She had no doubt that George Chan would exact a heavy price for
her seeming non-compliance.
George Chan's face was a mask of fury. He had been made to lose face in
front of his older brother. "So you still have not learned obedience, Miss
Weiss? I can see that harsher measures may be necessary. On your feet! And
cover yourself! Were you intending to show your shameless breasts to every
tradesman in Shanghai on our return journey?"
Then turning to his brother he added, "Richard, I shall see you later
tonight at the meeting of the Council, and we can finalize our plans."
Richard nodded and looked on admiringly as the tall blonde slowly rose to
her feet, pulled the crimson sheath down over her supple thighs and tried to
fasten the buttons on the cheong-sam. It took several minutes, so badly were
her hands trembling in apprehension of whatever cruel fate George Chan had in
mind for her.
