Chapter 102 The Eyes of the Kaiser
But the eyes that Erika Weiss had felt on her young body were real, if not
visible. In the adjoining room, a man stood on a low footstool peering
excitedly through two small circular openings that he had cut in the wall and
through hollow eye-slots he had painstakingly carved in the stiff-backed canvas
of the portrait of the German Emperor.
"Grosser Gott!" he had whispered to himself, when the gorgeous young woman
had let the peignoir fall to her waist. In the time he had spent with her, he
had been struck by the blonde's beauty, but it would have been unseemly for a
man in his position to stare too obviously. But now, now, he was free to enjoy
her splendid young body to his heart's content.
She was facing away from him, nude to the waist, with the wide shoulders of
a female athlete tapering to a waist that would have suited a ballerina, her
nightgown bunched around her womanly hips. A lattice-like array of half-faded
horizontal and diagonal streaks added piquant highlights to the otherwise
flawless flesh of her back. Looking past her, into the mirror she faced, the
Watcher felt his manhood stiffen in his tight-fitting dress trousers, as his
eyes explored Erika's very unballerina-like breasts with the guilty but
electrically-charged excitement that only an unseen voyeur can ever know.
Though criss-crossed with half a dozen dark striations, Erika's opulent
breasts were magnificent in a way that her reclining posture on the bed had only
hinted. They were breasts such as he imagined when he heard the voices of
Wagner's idealized Rhine-maidens in his mind's ear, young, pleasingly ripe and
temptingly succulent, with no more hint of sag than an Alpine fir wearing a
light dusting of snow.
The Watcher took in an excited breath almost soundlessly, but as he did so
the blonde goddess covered herself and turned in his direction. But he had
prepared the eye-slits in the painting with great care, and she saw nothing.
The young valkyrie had a haunted look in her eyes as she looked anxiously
around the room for a moment, but then she relaxed and turned to face the mirror
once again, and slid the nightgown over her shapely hips. The gathered
waistband was a little snug, and the peignoir slid only halfway down the
tempting crease of her buttocks before catching a bit, and the tall blonde had
to insert her fingers into the edges of the rolled-up garment in order to wiggle
it slowly down her rounded buttocks, which, like her back and breasts, bore the
thin, dark, traces of a savage beating some days earlier.
He watched, his heart pounding with excitement, as Erika stepped out of the
garment, her long, golden hair spilling over her bare shoulders like
Botticelli's Venus. Then she turned toward the sunlight streaming through the
open second-story window letting the warmth caress the front of her body. Her
body having grown stiff from several days in bed, she lifted herself up onto her
toes and extended her arms high over her head, and clasped her wrists together,
before twisting her upper body slowly from side to side in an attempt to loosen
her sore muscles.
The Watcher was mesmerized by the sight of the light from the afternoon sun
bathing her swaying breasts in its warm glow. The naked blonde basked
languorously in the warmth like a tigress having awoken from a deep sleep. Her
unseen admirer felt a vein pulsing in his forehead as he watched the pink,
pointed tips of her breasts, kissed by the warmth and light of the sun, blossom
and grow like Dutch tulips responding to the first warm days of spring. The
Watcher licked at his dry lips nervously, imagining how those firm, thrusting
nuggets of flesh would feel between his fingers, how they would react to the
touch of his lips and teeth.
His maleness was hard and throbbing now as he studied the voluptuous body
of young Erika Weiss in profile. He had not been shy about taking his pleasures
as he has found them in Asia; the petite, dark-eyed, golden-skinned beauties of
the Orient had thrilled him on numerous occasions, both those who had
entertained him willingly, and those whom he had paid for darker delights. But
he had not seen a body like hers in China and only rarely in Europe, a body with
the long, clean lines of one of Ingres' odalisques, coupled with the voluptuous
curves of a beauty by Rubens.
The Watcher felt his hands beginning to perspire as he imagined himself
standing behind her, pressing her forward until her magnificent body was pressed
flat against the window, while he ran his eager hands freely over her nude,
ripe-nippled breasts, fondling them, stroking them, squeezing them, while
rickshaw porters and shopgirls, beggars and pickpockets gawked up at them from
below. His passion mounted as he pictured himself thrusting into her from
behind, propelling her into an erotic frenzy while passers-by in the crowded
streets pointed upward excitedly toward the spectacle taking pace in the
second-story window.
Erika backed away from the window at an angle, giving the Watcher a better
vantage point from which to view the dark streaks that one or more unknown
assailants can carved into her breast-flesh, and imagined himself in that role.
What a thrill of mastery her cruel flogger must have had as he lashed this
magnificent creature! What primeval pulsings of lust must have coursed through
his veins as he painted stripe after agonizing stripe across the creamy flesh of
her noble back, on the alluring curves of her buttocks, the silky skin of her
well-toned thighs, and the sumptuous slopes of her breasts.
Erika turned to face him then, giving him a tantalizing view of her
golden-fringed mons and her enticingly prominent labia, as she knelt down and
opened several glass containers that were arranged on a table alongside the tub,
opening each to examine its contents. She up-ended the third jar, pouring a
portion of it into the water and then balanced herself against the edge of the
tub before stepping into the tub of warm water. She made a circular stirring
motion with her right foot, and within seconds the bathwater erupted into a
froth of delicate bubbles. The water was still quite hot and Erika lowered
herself gingerly, issuing a long, sensuous sigh when she at last stretched out
in the porcelain enclosure, grateful for the fact that some long-ago consul or
companion had been on the tall side and had commissioned a tub of a size
commensurate with his stature.
The Watcher watched, a bit disappointed as the golden girl's body
disappeared into the sea of bubbles, but brightened as she lifted a well-curved
leg and extended it in his direction, pointing her foot as artfully as if she
had been conscious of having an audience. Then she used an amber-colored sea
sponge to soap the pink skin of her thigh until it gleamed. Erika winced
slightly as she bent her knee double and reached toward her foot. The Watcher
guessed that the lashes across her back made reaching and stretching moments
painful. But as she drew her knee slowly back, so that she could wash her lower
leg and foot, she gave the Watcher an opportunity to peer intently beneath the
surface of the sudsy water in search of her golden gateway.
Just then the Watcher heard the sound of a door opening followed by a
high-pitched voice crying "He-yah! What are you doing there?" The Watcher's
heart stopped for a moment, thinking he had been discovered, until he realized
that the voice had come from the adjoining room.
"Doctor say that you still weak. He tell me to help you with your bath."
The speaker was a petite, vivacious young Chinese woman in her early twenties,
who had come bustling into Erika's room, somewhat incongruously dressed in the
costume of a European maid. The armload of bleached white towels she carried
contrasted starkly with the masses of lustrous black hair that she had woven
into a stylish dark cocoon on her head. "But you not wait for me," she added
with a hint of a pout in her voice.
"I - I'm sorry," stammered Erika in her rudimentary Chinese as she crossed
her arms over her breasts modestly. "I suppose I should have waited, but the
water looked so nice and warm ...."
"No, miss. You no have to speak Chinese. I learn plenty German around
here. Pretty soon I speaking German better than him," the maid confided with a
smile, nodding in the direction of the portrait of a distinctly unsmiling
Bismarck.
"You speak German ... charmingly," Erika replied with a smile.
The maid set the towels down on the bed. "Here, let me take that," she
said, pointing to the sponge. "You been sleeping three days, Miss. The Doctor
- he says you are to relax, and not to trouble yourself. Please ... let me."
"D-danke," mumbled Erika shyly, as she slid down in the tub so that only
her head and shoulders were above the water line, still keeping her arms crossed
over her breasts.
The maid knelt down alongside the tub. "Ah, you like bubbles, too, Miss.
Make girl feel pretty, yes?"
"Yes," Erika, blushed as the maid dipped the sponge into the warm soapy
water, squeezed most of the water out, and then touched the sponge to Erika's
forehead softly, and then down first one cheek and then the other.
Erika closed her eyes and relaxed. The girl's hands were light as a
feather, as she sponged Erika's face and shoulders.
"Now sit up, Miss, and lean forward and let me wash your ... Ayee-yah!
What happened to you? Nasty boyfriend?"
When Erika had leaned forward the maid had seen the striations across her
back. "N-no ... I don't think so. I can't remember. I don't even know how I
came to be here. Or who I am. The doctor decided to call me Lorelei," she
concluded with a sad smile.
"I am called Ju Hua. Doctor laugh when he hear my name. Say he "Ju" also,
but I no understand the joke." Ju continued to let the sponge slide across
Erika's silken shoulders, being very careful not to exacerbate the welts. "My
father name me Ju Hua because it is type of flower ... pretty flower."
"Yes, Ju -- we call it a chrysanthemum."
"Can you turn over, miss? So I can finish your back?"
Erika turned over in the tub, but her soreness caused her movements to be a
bit herky-jerky and the movement of her long body caused the water to splash
upward, splashing Ju's starched white blouse. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"Don't mind, Miss. I no like these tight clothes anyway." And Ju stood up
and unbuttoned her blouse and threw it across the bed, kicked off her shoes, and
then stepped out of her prim black housemaid's skirt.
As Ju Hua knelt back down beside the tub, Erika could not help noticing
that the Chinese housemaid's sylph-like figure was exquisite beneath a brief
camisole and a damp, clinging half-slip. She wondered idly how a Chinese maid
had come by such elegant underthings, and then sighed softly as she felt the
soft sponge curling over her buttocks and then sliding between them.
From his secret vantage point, the Watcher redoubled his concentration as
Ju gently sponged the German girl's whip-streaked bottom, being careful to touch
the dark marks with only the most feather-like of caresses. As the maid
extended her arms, the camisole rose up slightly, giving the man with the
Kaiser's eyes a glimpse of an inch or two of her honey-gold belly.
Meanwhile, Erika had turned over in the bath again, once again crossing her
arms over her breasts as the Watcher fumed in frustration. Ju Hua began sliding
the well-lathered sponge up and down Erika's long sensuous legs with artful
grace.
"Bath not too hot, miss? Your skin turning pink. Pretty pink, though."
"No, Ju, it feels wonderful. The powder the doctor gave me -- it is ...
very soothing."
"Yes miss, I know."
Ju's hands slid the sponge between Erika's legs and the European beauty
blushed shyly at the intimate touch. "You very pretty, Miss. Chinese men
would go crazy to see golden-haired girl like you."
"I - I couldn't say, Ju. But what about you? You are lovely." It was true
-- Ju Hua reminded her of an exquisite miniature. During the course of the bath
Ju had splashed a fair amount of water on herself and her wet undergarment
clung to the shapely cones of her breasts the way dew clings to rose-petals.
But despite her light, carefree manner there was a sadness in Ju's almond-shaped
eyes.
"Have you a husband, Ju, or a young man that you care about?"
Ju frowned as she sponged Erika's belly with soft, circular, strokes.
"Yes, I have husband - but he not young -- and I no love him. My father
arranged marriage with his father." She smiled sadly, "Life of women is hard,
don't you think, Miss?"
"Y-yes. I suppose so."
"Lift legs up, Miss, please."
Erika drew her legs toward her until her knees were pointing at the ceiling
with a movement that allowed Ju to see the lash-marks across the fronts of her
thighs.
The dark-eyed house-maid shook her head sadly. "Why men like to do this, miss?
Hurt women?"
Erika winced as the sponge slid lightly across the most sensitive of the
weals. "I don't know, Ju."
Ju leaned forward confidentially. "Can you keep secret, Miss? I have
lover - right here in this building. And he same way. Like to hit me. Not as
bad as this," she said as she swirled the sponge around the a patchwork of dark
lines high on Erika's left thigh. "But hard; plenty hard."
The Watcher's jaw tightened behind the Kaiser's portrait. But he had
warned the maid well, and she gave no further hints as to the identity of her
"lover". But even this slight breach of confidence warranted a severe rebuke,
and his thoughts turned to the appropriate form of discipline he would
administer for this violation of his trust.
Erika felt a subtle pressure against her forearms, indicating that Ju
wanted her to move them out of her way and she slowly, shyly, retracted her
forearms from their protective crossed position in front of her opulent breasts,
and placed her arms along the upper rim of the tub.
"Ayee-yah, Miss!" Ju exclaimed in wonder at the lushness of Erika's frothy
mounds. "You make me feel like little girl," she added, as she slid the sponge
slowly up across the gentle swelling of Erika's ribcage before diffidently
touching the underside of her left breast.
"Don't be silly, Ju. Most girls in my country, in any country, would love
to have a figure like yours."
Ju Hua continued to soap Erika's breasts with almost worshipful admiration,
moving the soft sponge in seductive spirals as Erika closed her blue eyes and
threw her golden-coiffed head back against the edge of the tub. Somewhat
shamelessly Erika thrust her breasts out, abandoning herself to the wanton
pleasures of warm water, gentle hands, and soft sponge.
The Watcher felt his earlier lust, which had receded slightly when Ju had
barged into the room in such surprising fashion, returning with a vengeance.
There was something incredibly stimulating about seeing the Chinese girl's
slender, golden fingers playing lightly over those big, creamy, pink-nippled
breasts.
Ju seemed mesmerized by Erika's provocatively out-thrust breasts,
saturating the sponge with soapy water time and again so that she might watch
fresh rivulets of frothy bathwater trickle around the contours of the young
German woman's gorgeous globes, before smoothing away the suds with a series of
circular, nipple-teasing caresses.
After another minute or two of this dreamy sensual rapture, Erika's upper
body shuddered uncontrollably and she opened her eyes, smiled warmly at Ju and
removed the tiny hand from her breast. "Thank you, Ju, for the ... bath. But
the doctor told me to get plenty of rest -- and you must have other duties."
Ju's brown eyes were glazed over. "Y-yes, of course, Miss. Let me help
you up."
The beautiful little maid offered her shoulder to the tall blonde, as she
stood up in the tub, and as she stepped out of the porcelain oval, Erika felt
another wave of dizziness come over her and she lost her balance slightly, and
fell into the arms of the much shorter woman. But Ju caught her and, showing
surprising strength for a girl so tiny, propped her upright against a bedpost
which Erika could lean on while she dried her off.
The Watcher observed the scene with interest. The two women were standing
in profile to him now, and in catching her dripping patient against her body,
Ju's camisole had become well and truly soaked. She took one fluffy white bath
towel from the stack she had brought into the room and knelt before the tall
blonde, drying her feet, her ankles and her lower legs with assiduous
concentration. Then she encased Erika's left thigh, the one nearest to the
Watcher, in the towel and, starting at her knee, slowly slid the towel up, up,
up Erika's long, sleek, thigh until the backs of her fingers, pressed gently
against the German girl's blonde-fringed love-nook.
Ju repeated the process on Erika's other leg with loving thoroughness,
being careful not to irritate the horizontal striations, before inching forward
so close that Erika could feel the hot breath of the kneeling girl on her pubic
mound, as Ju dried the damp curves of her hips and derriere, not forgetting to
guide a portion of the soft fabric through the moist crease between Erika's
sculpted buttocks. Then the Chinese girl rose to her feet and turned Erika
around so that she could dry her back and shoulders, which she proceeded to do,
carefully but thoroughly.
Then, evidently feeling that the towel she had been using was now too damp
to dry properly, Ju threw it on the bed and took a second, smaller towel and
reached around to dry Erika's mossy mound of Venus, before sliding the towel up
over her belly, around and around her umbilical nook, and then across the swell
of her ribcage.
As she did so, Erika realized that the Chinese girl had pressed her slender
body so closely against her own that Ju's nipples were sharp little silk-covered
bullets of flesh pressing into her lower back. Meanwhile Ju's towel-encased
hands were busy at her own breasts, drying, squeezing, and caressing all at the
same time.
********
It was at this point that the Watcher glanced at the clock on the wall of
his room and cursed under his breath. The lovely tete-a-tete he had been
watching seemed like it had only begun a minute ago, but in fact the bath and
its aftermath had taken nearly thirty minutes, and if he did not tear himself
away from the erotic tableau in the next room, he would be late for an important
appointment.
He carefully filled the eye-holes in his own wall with tight-fitting plugs
that fit into the plaster so well that they were almost imperceptible to the
naked eye, and then re-hung a framed photographic rendering of an Oktoberfest
celebration over the plugs.
It would be several long hours before the assignation he had scheduled for
nine o'clock that night, but the wait would make his conquest all the sweeter
...
