Chapter 70 The Carriage Trade
Somehow she had contrived to retain the lovely smile on her face throughout
the long evening. When the party broke up and they climbed into a carriage to
return to George's country home, George, she was sure, had intentionally given
the cabman the wrong directions in order to prolong her suffering as much as
possible. Several times he ordered the driver to stop so that he could point
out some landmark that she had seen dozens of times before. Finally, when the
city was asleep at about two in the morning, George ordered the driver, a
spindly young man of nineteen or twenty, to park the carriage in a deserted
street. Then he had told the driver to join him and Ming-tsu in the back of the
carriage. The driver, puzzled by this strange invitation had demurred at first
but a couple of gold coins had soon convinced him to humor his well-dressed
client.
After the hesitant young driver had climbed into the carriage seat facing
George and Ming-tsu, he realized that George Chan had had him position the
carriage so that pale streams of moonlight shone in through the window on
Ming-tsu's side of the carriage, bathing her face and the bare skin above her
plunging neckline in a creamy glow.
The boy nervously glanced from side to side, trying not to look at the
enticing pair of half-revealed breasts that surged proudly out of Ming-tsu's
U-shaped neckline. But soon, at George's insistent urging, he confessed that
yes, the lady was beautiful, yes, the moonlight enhanced her beauty, and, after
a more stubborn resistance, no, he had never been with a woman before.
When George asked him if he'd like to be with one now, the young driver
looked at Ming-tsu's luscious hillocks of flesh, licked his lips and stammered
his assent.
"Well, why don't you begin by taking off her dress?" the insidious voice
whispered from the far corner of the carriage. "Ming-tsu is very proud of her
splendid body, aren't you my dear?"
The young cabman had difficulty in swallowing.
"Yes," she had breathed, knowing that contradiction could only lead to more
suffering.
The young man's hands had reached for the bodice of her dress and gave it a
gentle tug, but the fabric did not pull away from her chest.
Ming-tsu had looked at her lover imploringly; the fabric had not pulled
away because the scarlet silk had adhered to the drops of blood that had oozed
from her abused nipples. Tearing the fabric away suddenly would be like
stripping a bandage from an open wound.
"Please, George," she had whispered.
"Hush, darling. Not a sound."
A moment later George's husky voice had spoken to the young man again.
"Don't worry lad, it's just the nature of the fabric. Give it a good pull, boy,
if you want to see what she's got underneath that dress."
The driver inserted both of his pale hands in the neckline and pulled down
hard, tearing the blood-stained fabric away from Ming-tsu's breasts as she
gasped in pain.
As the fabric fell halfway to her waist, the boy recoiled in alarm when he
saw the tiny hinged clips that clung to Ming-tsu's pleasure buds; the sapphire
studs were coruscating in the moonglow, even though they were now flecked with
crimson around the edges.
"Don't be alarmed," crooned the diabolical voice. "It's only a few drops
of blood. If you're going to be a man in this world, you'll have to get used to
the sight of blood. Won't he, my dear? " There had been steel in George Chan's
voice when he whispered those words..
"Y-yes."
"Touch them, boy."
A pair of half-trembling, half-eager young hands reached out gingerly to
touch Ming-tsu's moon-lit love-mounds.
"Do you feel how soft her skin is?"
"Y-y-yes, sir." The driver's eyes were wide with awe. Who would have
thought that his last fare of the night would result in an adventure with what
he took to be an eccentric aristocrat -- and the most gorgeous woman he had ever
seen in his life.
"The skin of her breasts is as soft as a baby's bottom is it not?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"And yet her breasts are so firm. Don't you think so?"
"Mmmm, yes. Oh, yes."
Don't just poke at them, boy! You've got a woman's tits in your hands,
not spiderwebs! Slide your hands right under them."
"L-like this?"
"Good lad! Now you're catching on. Give them a squeeze."
"But won't they bl...?"
"She is a woman. You are a man. It is her duty to give you pleasure.
Take it!"
Ouuuuwwww!!
"Good! ... Again! ... Harder still! Excellent! See? Only a drop or
two."
The more the driver sunk his fingers into Ming-tsu's tender breast-flesh,
the louder her moans became.
"Ming-tsu -- Do you wish to please me, tonight?"
"Ooouuooww... Always, sir." What else was there to say?
"The boy ... he's not a bad-looking young man, is he, darling?"
"Aaaaagghhh! ... N-no...."
He learns quickly, does he not? Are his hands as strong as they look, my
love?"
"Eeaiaah!! ... Yes ...AGGH!! Yes..."
"Yeah!" The sinews in the driver's wrists tightened visibly in the
moonlight.
"Oooohhhh ..... Ohhhhhhhwww."
"Ming-tsu, this fine young man has been driving us all over the city for
two hours. Have you enjoyed your evening?"
"Unnngghhhmpphhhh!! The coachman's hands had tightened again. A long
pause, while Ming-tsu tried to regain her breath. "Y-yes, master."
"Good, good, that pleases me." Then, changing the subject, George's voice
whispered the last question that Ming-tsu would have ever expected him to ask.
" Have you ever heard of the principal of leverage, boy?"
The skinny coachman looked at George Chan as if he had asked him to recite
the Twelfth Analect of Confucius.
"N-no, sir."
"Well then, I shall have to explain it to you. Leverage, you see, results
from using an object to increase the power of an action ... Hmmm, I see you
don't quite understand."
The driver, still tightly cupping Ming-tsu's perfect breasts, looked at
George Chan uncomprehendingly.
'You know, lad, they say a picture is worth a thousand words. "Do you see
those pretty blue things hanging from her nipples?"
"Sure. They're really digging in to her, ain't they?"
"That they are, lad, that they are. And they shall teach you about
leverage. Just take one between thumb and forefinger. Hold it as lightly as you
like." George watched as the boys fingers closed gently on one of the
sapphire-tipped clamps. "Do you have it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Excellent. Now give it a little twist."
"Aaauughhh!" Despite the coolness of the night air, Ming-tsu's face and
upper body was bathed in sweat.
"Very nice. Again."
"N-no ... plea.... Aaaaeeeiiaahh!!"
"Again..."
Eaaiaaaahh!!
"Ah, he's a quick-learner, darling. It takes some students hours to
understand the principles of leverage. He has mastered them in a moment."
George Chan smiled the smile of a pleased professor. " Now the other one."
"Aaarrrgghhh!!
"Hush, my dear; you'll wake half the city."
"But, master ... it hurts so ... you don't know ..."
"You're doing very well, boy. Now try both at once."
"AAIEEEAHHH!!
********
Five minutes later Ming-tsu was on her knees in the carriage, still nude to
the waist, her lovely mouth bobbing up and down on the coachman's throbbing
organ while the slender young man, his eyes rolling in ecstasy at the touch of
her lips, twisted the punishing hinge-clamps each time she tried to draw a
breath.
Mercifully the coachman, though blessed with the magnificent potency of
youth, lacked the stamina that comes with experience, and it was but a few
moments later that he felt his seed racing upwards through his randy cock.
"Uhhh.. Ooohhhh. Uuuuhhhhhh !!!"
Ming-tsu sensed the driver's coming orgasm and lifted her tear-streaked
face from his saliva-drenched phallus.
"In her face, boy. Shoot right in her face."
"Yeah, yeahh, YEAHH!!" The first jet of sperm landed just beneath
Ming-tsu's right eye.
"Now her tits, lad! All over her tits."
The coachman aimed at Ming-tsu crimson-tipped love-mounds and proceeded to
empty his fleshy weapon on her perfect breasts, firing salvo after salvo of
viscous man-juice onto the moonlit globes of George Chan's concubine.
********
Later, after they had arrived at his summer house, and sent a cheerful
coachman off into the night, the stocky ganglord had wiped the cream-colored
souvenirs of the cabman's lust from her face and breasts. Then he had undressed
her slowly, and lain her nude body down on the bed before at last removing the
dreadful blue-studded hinges from her brown and bloodied nipple-tips; the
restoration of circulation quickly sent fresh waves of excruciating pain
coursing through her ravaged pain-nuggets.
Ming-tsu had tried to comfort her breasts with her own hands, but George
had pulled them away and replaced them with his own mouth. The younger Chan had
lowered his lips to first one breast then the other, enjoying the crusty texture
of dried blood and the robust, gamy taste of fresh. As she felt his mouth pay
homage to her inflamed pleasure-globes, the beleaguered concubine was grateful
that some beneficent spirit had ordained that the touch of her master's mouth
would prove comforting to her tortured breasts -- and indeed it had.
By the time his mouth had polished every drop of blood from her uptilted
breasts, George Chan's aroused organ was a mighty pole of male flesh. He had
parted her thighs then, and then lowered his heavy upper body onto hers,
crushing her oh-so-tender breasts beneath him before giving his thrice-degraded
mistress as prolonged and violent a fucking as she had ever known.
But true to his word, before the week was out, he had presented his
raven-haired concubine with the keys to the night club -- the very same club
where, months later, on an ill-starred night, it had been Li Chang's bad joss
to stop for a drink.
Such was the strange history of the sapphire-studded nipple-clamps....
