Love Slave (2)

OCR & Typesetting: Zhang

Chapter 3: The Veil of Mystery

O’Willie closed her eyes. Her sleeping hug was removed; her body repositioned so that her head could lie on one’s lap. One hand softly and gently began to massage the peaks of her breasts, while another gently wandered over her legs…

“Wearing this uniform will allow you to make love standing up quite easily.” O’Willie spoke briskly to the two saucy, long-legged girls, plus a handsome man sitting in front of her.

It’s lunchtime at Pepto. This is Ovrie’s office in the center of an upper class residential area of the City of London. An assortment of bags and boxes fill her desk, along with two women’s outfits and the uniform of a male waiter. O’Willey was locking the door behind her for a private meeting, none of which had anything to do with her design business; instead, everything had to do with her cousin Jenny’s new hotel.

“I designed these,” said O’Willey, holding up a pair of pants, “and look, they look more like sailor’s flags without the button flaps; and there are these lovely little skirts, aren’t they?”

The two girls nodded in agreement.

“And these tops are buttoned from the chest; this little scarf doesn’t cover much, but it’s a great way to add glamor, and you can show off your nipples.” O’Willey produced some short skirts cut on the bias, with Peter Pan collars, and tops pinned up, and a tiny scarf with white lace edging against the breasts.

“Put it on and then you’ll find out.”

The two girls removed their pants and shirts, revealing their completely naked, down to their shaved pelvises. The handsome man immediately got hard.

“Look at that, like he can’t wait to fuck you guys.” Ovelie said as she walked over to feel the man’s bulge. “Maybe I should see how you three are doing before I send you on a mission on your backs. Terry, put these pants on and remember to zipper them up.”

The young man took off his jeans and put on the waiter’s pants.

“You have to wear stockings,” Ovelli taught the girls, “and no panties. And here…”

She threw them a pair of black suspenders wrapped in cellophane and these shoes.”

She pulled two pairs of high-heeled, lace-up shoes from some boxes. In a flash, all three were delighted with their outfits.

“Now Jill,” said Owly to the taller of the two girls, “unbutton Terry’s buttons; take his dick out and tease it.”

Orviri watched Terry’s big dick, completely hardening under Jill’s skillful grasp.

“And Mary,” said Orvilly to the other: “lean against the wall.” The girl did as she was told; spread her legs apart and supported herself on the wall with her shoulders. O’Willie continued, “OK, think of this as a quiz; Jill stand back and let Terry fuck Mary. Terry, remember to do it standing up; Mary, pull your skirt up so that everything you are being subjected to can be seen.”

Mary pulled her skirt up high. Terry bent his knees slightly and aimed his dick at Mary’s shaved hillock; then poked his way into her wet pussy with great jutting, straight strokes.

“Awesome!” O’Willie said, and enjoyed the sight of his big guy entering Mary quickly and smoothly.

“Jill, unbutton your buttons; show me your breasts and then you come and start masturbating. That’s right! Very good!

Pull her skirt up a little so I can see her pussy. It’s better here; I like it clean shaven so it looks good; very tantalizing. Do you like it Mary?” “Do you like it? Mary?” Between a sigh and a moan, Mary nodded. “OK. Jill, do you think you could put your hand between Terry and Mary; and molest Mary’s nub?”

“I’ll try.” Jill tried, but found that look very inconvenient.

“It’s okay.” O’Willie said, “Don’t worry about it; keep masturbating for now. That’s very sexy; really very sexy, now go over and lean against the wall next to Mary. Terry, if you can suck on one of Jill’s nipples, do it, OK.”

O’Willey was extremely aroused by the fact that she was single-handedly directing it. All three were young, hard and beautiful; what she saw made her extremely horny. She was wet and tingling between her legs; she wanted to feel a hand running up her thighs and fingers inside her pussy. She loved the idea of making love to Terry even more, of having his dick stuffed all over her; but she resisted any thought that would interfere now. She was going to put herself on the edge of a knife’s edge, reminding herself to keep a hard commendation like this one. Averie sat back in her chair and watched as Terry’s virile dick slid in and out of Mary’s body. They moaned and pushed their limbs from pain as they did so. She watched Jill masturbate with her fingers, her ass jutting forward uncontrollably; her legs trembling.

“That, my God; is exactly what I want to do to Jenny.” O’Willie said. “Make sure you’re on the landing toward the stairwell on the second floor; and that you yourself are a visitor who is planning to dart up there for the big time.”

“This is the best mission of anything I’ve ever performed!” Terry enthused.

“But you must be sure that Jenny will never catch you.” O’Willey appended a second. “She doesn’t have to know what’s going on, you know?”

“Sure,” Terry said and added, “Can I go now?”

“Jill,” O’Willie said as she turned to the girl who was still masturbating. “Can you work it off on your own, or do you want Terry to come over and fuck you too?”

“What makes me deserve to be ignored?” Jill said.

Terry put his hand down to tease Mary, then fucked her until she reached her climax. Then he pulled out, then rammed his rod straight into Jill and took her as well. O’Willie rejoiced in their performance, knowing that they would take Jenny’s business and ravage it. O’Willie was shivering, Jenny and her mother, Pinero, deserved what they got. This is the price that must be paid to teach that beady-eyed bitch to marry Lawrence, thought O’Willie to herself!

O’Verey was once in love with Lawrence. She and Lawrence were first cousins on her father’s side. They had been lovers; and Lawrence had said they could never marry. She had accepted this fact; but when Jenny had appeared and taken her place in his affections, O’Willey had become furious. She was so discreet that no one could see her anger; but she vowed revenge. This desire had not been realized for years; but now, with the opening of the hotel, O’Willey knew she could achieve what she had longed for: the destruction of Jenny. The old-fashioned, stubborn woman will fail, and it will reflect on her stubborn mother.

Jenny’s mother, Pinillo, and O’Willie are engaged in an ongoing war, which hasn’t always been the case. When O’Willie was little, Brunello cared for her as if she were her own daughter, and brought her up as such. But on her eighteenth birthday, everything changed. While she was still in her infancy, her parents, Emily and Boyce, both died in a car accident in the Alps. Little Averie survived because she was in the back seat of the car. Emily’s twin sister, Brunello, immediately rushed to the scene of the accident and returned to England with Orvilly. A few years later, she met Boyce’s brother, Stéphane, whom she married and moved to Paris, and Stéphane is the cause of the bad blood between Orvilly and Stéphane.

Pinillo threw a big party for O’Waverly in their elegant Parisian apartment. Jenny was a few years younger than O’Waverly and was still at boarding school in England. It was the first time in her life that Auverie had been drunk.

She felt so uncomfortable that she found the nearest room and lay down, and, knowing almost nothing about being there, she wrapped herself in a silken dress and lay down in a deep sleep on the double bed of Pinillo’s huge cherry wood.

When she woke up, she found Stephen lying next to her completely naked and deeply asleep.

Stephen used to be an extraordinarily handsome man with deep contours. turquoise pupils as well as a tousled head of black hair. Unlike his other brothers, Boyce-eyed Bedorf, he was thinner; and rich in athleticism.

Averie sat up and stared at him. To her it looked as if he was deeply, deeply asleep.

She looked at his body, and marveled at his physique, and she especially adored his cock. It lay to one side, inactive, but beautiful. Orvilly had a strong desire to touch it, to feel it; to see what would happen if she did. Slowly, carefully, with great trepidation and feathery lightness, she put out a hand, and began to stroke it gently. Stephen was still asleep, but his rod began to tremble. Averie stroked it again. Its foreskin-covered tip poked out from underneath the wrinkles of the accordion-like skin. In extreme ecstasy, O’Willie stroked it again along the backbone of the emerging column; Stephen’s cock continued to shake and grow, and as it thickened and lengthened, O’Willie watched it with a sense of calm imagination. As it became proud and firm, she held it firmly along its main shaft; and guided its head into her mouth. Stephen was still asleep; his breathing never changed. Careful to avoid scarfing to the rest of his body, Averie knelt up next to his waist, up to her waistline. Very visibly, she took his prick in her hands and sucked on its glans. She was so totally caught up in the pleasure of his cock that she didn’t hear the door open when Briello entered; and she still didn’t notice Briello’s presence until the older woman began to scream.

Pinillo throws O’Willie out of the house and follows up by throwing her suitcase out as well. She told Orvilly that she would never speak to her again. Pinillo also literally practiced what she promised and her attitude never changed. Her hostility was difficult to reconcile, but as they were of one family they still had frequent opportunities of having to see each other. Soon after that event the first inevitable occasion arose: at Stephen’s funeral. Pinero treated Orvilly with a cold reticence which at the time aroused some surprise. It was now known that there was a feud between them, but no one knew why. Orvilly had never told any one, and neither had Pinero; and for a time it had aroused Orvilly’s curiosity. Then Orvilly thought that the reason why Pinero had kept her mouth shut was because she didn’t want anyone to know either; her late husband had allowed something to happen that day. Now that she had learned that Stephen had maintained a reputation as a decent, selfless man, and O’Willie knew that no one would believe her, how could she dare to dishonor the memory of her uncle? So she, too, has remained silent. But both women knew the truth, and Pinero hated O’Willie for monopolizing the experience. O’Willie knew that if there was anything that could humiliate her, then the older woman would never regret doing it. O’Willie was always constantly on the lookout, and the rest of the family, though they had little interaction with Pinero, protected her well. Whatever O’Willie did that could hurt Jenny, she knew that it would hurt her mother as well; for she doted so much on her only daughter, and this added to O’Willie’s drive for revenge.

That being said, she was incredulous at what she was currently doing with her after Pinero threw her out that day. The simple act of teasing Steven’s cock had changed her life forever. Now as she watched Terry, Jill, and Mary enjoying each other’s bodies, Orvilly’s thoughts went back to that day; what had happened after her belongings had been left on the sidewalk of Luigi Gaucho.

Still wearing the one-piece women’s dress she had worn to the ball, Owly picked up her scattered suitcases. In a state of bewilderment, she crossed the Ivaradis Road and kept walking along the Tio Micro Road. As if guided automatically, she turned right, left, right, left, and then stopped on a small street behind the Rue Borgne. This was where her aunt Olga’s luxurious duplex apartment was located.

Olga had gone to Hong Kong to do some shopping, which was why she hadn’t been able to make it to O’Willie’s ball. But O’Waverly knew instinctively: whether Olga was there or not, she would be welcome here.

Orvilly reached the tall, elaborate iron gate and pulled at the age-old clock embedded in the wall. She looked at the fat, thin-lipped, thin-haired concierge and trudged across the round gravel path. After recognizing it as O’Waverly, she unlocked the jangling door and let her into the courtyard.

O’Verey walked through this isolated territory, reached the arcade at the far end; and entered the very small and temperamental elevator, which took her up to the second floor. She stepped out, and rang the bell of Olga’s apartment.

The door was opened by Nee, the youngest and prettiest of Oga’s two Vietnamese maids.

“My goodness! Miss, you look horrible!” Nee said.

“Can I stay here?” Averie asked and tried to wipe away the tears that were starting to fall.

“Of course!” Nee replied; taking the suitcase and entertaining her into the elegant and high ceilinged living room. “But Madame is in Hong Kong now.”

“I know.” Ovelie said.

“How long are you planning on staying here?” Nee asked her.

“I don’t know,” replied Orvilly, and sat down in the opulent, but feeling familiar, parlor.

She felt a rush of comfort and relaxation. “Maybe ma’am will call back tonight.” Nee said, “So we can greet her. Now, please let me take you to your bedroll.”

Dressed in her chic maid’s uniform, Nee led Orvilly through the maze of rooms to the guest room located at the far end of the first floor. The second floor was specially kept separate and was for Olga’s private use only. Nee stowed all of Ovelie’s luggage in a tall closet.

O’Verey had not stayed in this apartment before, and at this point gazed with great approval at the tone in which it was furnished. It was set in a theme of cheese-colors, golds, and roses. Heavy, cheese-colored, silk-woven curtains, with a matching pattern of roses, hung above and around the floor-to-ceiling windows. The chevron walls add a deep line of matching pink to match the plasterboard picked out in gold, as well as the cheese-colored soffit and soaring double doors. Everything, including the furnishings, including the king-size bed, was in true French style.

“Miss, whatever happened to you, I think you need to get some sleep.” Nee said, “But first you also need a nice hot bath and something to eat.” She gently walked across the silk woven carpet and polished parquet flooring, and went into the next bathroom to put some hot water on for Orvilly.

Some time later, after O’Willey had become refreshed and put on a pale green silk plain dress, she headed for the kitchen. There, Nee and another slender, small-boned Vietnamese maid, Lea, were preparing food.

“We made you a light casual meal.” Rhea said and smiled at Owerri before quickly saying something to Nee in Vietnamese.

“She said you looked beautiful,” Nee said so to O’Willie.

“Thank you.” Averie replied and took a seat next to the scrubbed table.

Orvilly watched as they washed Penny chicory and bean seedlings, chopped onions and other vegetables; and cut some pork into thin strips, then measured some rice and poured it into an electric skillet.

“We will prepare a meal for you, a meal with the flavors of our homeland.” They said and brought some spices down from the shelf.

“How wonderful!” O’Willie said, not wishing to tell them either; the truth was that she was not very hungry.

“But I’m thinking: how about some Sage first?” Niki said, “Do you like saké?”

“That’s rice wine, you have to drink it warm.”

Nee heated up the Sage and poured it into a small blue and white china cup.

“Drink!” Nee said.

“Drink it all at once?” O’Willie asked.

“Why not?” They said in unison. “There’s plenty more here. It’s especially useful for you if you’re annoyed.”

O’Willey took a small sip, and then finished the rest very quickly. The warmth of its welcome visitor flooded into her like a tide; and a moment later, she held out her cup for more. Nin took the container of Sarge’s and Owerri’s little cup, and put them both on a platter.

“We’ll bring your dinner to your room.” Nee said and brought her a tray of everything.

“But take these with you. It makes a great aperitif.”

O’Willey was alone in her bedchamber with her thoughts when the image of Stephen’s penis came back to her. She lay down on her bed. And with her imagination, once again experiencing the touch of his dick between her two hands and the taste of it in her mouth, had he really been asleep? Did he really not know what she had done? She wanted someone to talk to about all this that was happening to her. But who would listen? Who would believe her?

After finishing a full glass of Sage, she was already very drunk when Nee and Rhea brought brought Ovelie’s dinner to her room. They gracefully placed the dinner on the table near the window. O’Willie stumbled out of her bed and Rhea helped her reach her seat and had the curtains drawn by Nee. Averie ate several bites of meat, pea shoots and rice in quick succession.

“It’s just so delicious.” She said in praise. They smiled and then started to get up and leave the room.

“Don’t go away,” said Orvilly, “please stay with me. As you can see, I need to talk. I must have someone to talk to about what has happened. But you must promise to keep it a secret. Will you promise me that?”

The two young maids nodded together.

“Then bring all the rest of the Saji and then we can drink it together.”

When the two slender young women returned, Orvilly gestured to the bench. They both sat down, and drew their feet neatly together; and made sure that their garments did not cover their knees. Then they sipped, restrainedly, from their little bowls; and listened to the story of O’Willie’s encounter with Stephen. As she finished the rough outline of her story, they began to ask more intimate questions.

“Does he have a very large penis?”

O’Waverly was so young and hadn’t experienced any of this that she didn’t really know if Stephen’s dick was considered big or small. She used her hand to show them the approximate size.

“Does it feel good to touch?” Nee asked as she reached for more rice wine, and…

“Yes.”

“When it’s not hard, how big is it?” Rhea asked, and downed an entire bowl of rice wine in one gulp.

O’Willie also compared them to the approximate size. “Have you guys never seen it before?” She asked.

“No.” They said, and started eating and laughing.

“How old are you guys?” O’Willie asked, surprised by their admission and teasing.

“I’m twenty-four years old and she’s twenty-five.” Nee said.

“Neither of you have ever had sexual experience?”

“We didn’t say that.” Rhea replied.

“But you’ve never looked at it, a man’s actual thing! Never played with, or let it inside your body, have you?” O’Waverly exclaimed.

“Never, and we don’t need this.” Nee said.

“How can you have intercourse without a man?” O’Tuuli asked feeling curious.

“We’ll show you how to do it someday.” Rhea said mysteriously. She tried to get up from beside the table, but she felt her legs shaking straight underneath her. Rhea and Nee came over to help her and helped her onto the bed. There they made her feel more comfortable.

Orvilly closed her eyes and felt herself floating in a wonderful nothingness. She had a dream about two maids, naked, scented and oiled; they began to climb into bed with her. They took off her nightgown and slowly caressed her body.

In her dream, Rhea was kissing her on the lips, while Nee picked up a bottle of oil that Rhea had left beside the bed, and slowly massaged O’Willie’s breasts. Léa also covered both hands with oil, and then let her hands roam all over O’Willie’s immobile body, across her belly, and then on her ass. Rhea gently stretched O’Willie’s legs out, her hands traveling up and down O’Willie’s inner thighs until she touched the tiny point in O’Willie’s tiny black hill. Because of this sudden and unexpected pressure on this all but unknown point; O’Willie’s entire body suddenly came to life again. She began to undulate and roll as the maid’s sensual movements stimulated parts of her that she never knew could be stimulated. Rhea proceeded to climb all over her body with a gentle gulp, resting her head between O’Willie’s legs; and placing her tongue on the tiny black spot on the top of her black curly pubic mound. The sensation was so wonderful that O’Willie couldn’t help but cry out; and began to moan. She continued to let out a series of pleasurable, deeply tinged gasps of satisfaction. Then Rhea’s searching tongue found another, deeper spot; but again, Rhea didn’t want to deprive that little spot of pleasure, so she placed an oiled index finger on top of the tiny protuberance. As Rhea’s tongue and finger moved in and out of her wetness, and as Nee’s lips were caressing her nipple, it caused a wave of weakness to pass through Averie’s hand. That was until she reached out and found their hills and breasts. The three of them lay coiled around each other, entwined and moaning, shaking and quivering; until the moment of total oblivion came. Only then did Orvilly leave the sight of her passion and relax into a deep sleep.

The next morning, she felt so embarrassed that she couldn’t face Nee and Rhea. The dream even made her so ashamed that she could hardly face herself. She was planning to leave the place when Ni blocked her, to go to Thorbont University.

“Madame called this morning.” Nee said.

“Oh!” O’Willie responded, not daring to look the maid squarely in the eye.

“She said she’d be happy to keep you here, and to keep you as long as you like.”

Averie felt a strong sense of relaxation; and dismissed the idea of going to Thoreau State University. She was glad to know that she had a place to come down to. Olga, she was all but in a setting with many maids and a handsome black chauffeur, Drega. She was due back next week, but soon she would be on the road again. On the other hand, Ovrie’s cousin Lawrence will be flying in from Brazil, and she feels uplifted, fluttered and bathed in love from the bottom of her heart.

They met, quite by chance, on the day of his arrival, at a book collector’s house on the Ekole Road, and they both went there for the records of the field objects in question, Lawrence because, as a budding fieldologist, he was, and O’Willey because she was trying to bring the shapes and colors of the local field objects into play for her designer’s eye. Between them, an immediate intimacy developed, and it was only after a coffee at a nearby coffeehouse that they discovered they were related. After a few months, there was no reason to keep them apart.

Their old grandfather was very happy. He was able to keep his only grandson in Paris. He bought him a tiny apartment on the Rue de Fons. It was in one of the rooms there, on an autumn afternoon, that Aurelie lost her virginity.

When Lawrence crept in, Orvilly was at the tall living room window, gazing out at the bright green trees, and the bright red clutter of graffiti on the gray building in front of her. He came up behind her and put an arm around her waist. And kissed her neck gently. It was what O’Willie had been dreaming of for weeks.

Every time she turned around in his apartment she eagerly longed for him to show his feelings, but he never did. To O’Willey, it seemed that Lawrence treated her as if she were his sister. He did not treat her as a young woman because of sexual motives; or notice her desire for sexual favors, specifically aimed in that direction.

She was so deeply immersed in some thought that the gesture was a complete surprise. She responded naturally, wrapping her arms around his neck. And kissed him tenderly on the lips. Within moments, their gentleness was transformed into a frenzy of passion as long suppressed longings burned up. Immediately their bodies seemed to catch fire, every muscle, every muscle member, every fiber spreading the same tearing message into their hearts and minds. They touched each other, and faster and faster.

They tore at each other’s shirts in their haste to feel the naked skin. At the same time, impatiently, they threw their shirts and bras out the window, forgetting where they were. They no longer cared about being careful or gentle. Lawrence stood and lifted O’Willie up, whirling around and quickly lowering her down, impaling her with his cock. Her legs tightened around his waist like a vise. Their genitals and lips joined each other, and they moved with an unparalleled force until, in a moment of tremendous energy, they both climaxed at the same time. Afterward, they collapsed onto the cushions of the floor in uncharacteristic exhaustion.

“You took my virginity,” she said as she slowly stroked his chest.

“What did you say!” He exclaimed, and flung her hand aside. “Are you saying you’ve never had sex before?”

“No.” She said.

“Ugh, is that true?” He said sarcastically.

“Don’t you trust me?” She asked him back and was stung by his tone.

“Sure.” He replied. “If you say so.”

“You don’t believe me!” Ovelie said, as she started to burst into tears.

“For God’s sake!” He was annoyed by her tears. “Look, if you’re still a virgin why did you give it to me so easily?”

“Because I want you. Because every part of my body says that’s a desirable thing.”

“You should have let me wait first.”

“Why?” She asked.

“Because that’s what women do.” He answered her.

O’Willie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. For months she had accompanied him home, and every day she had longed for him to make love to her. She had suppressed that longing until today; but now he was scolding her for something she thought both of them should enjoy. She really couldn’t understand him.

“Didn’t you like it just now?” She asked.

“Of course I like it, that’s great.” He replied calmly.

Averie rolled away from him. She had enjoyed what had just happened, but didn’t like his reaction now. Now, just when she should be feeling happy, she was crying.

“Where are you going?” He asked as she began to dress.

“Go home.” She said.

“I think you have work to do.” He pointed to her sketchbook.

“I’ll do it at Olga’s.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said faintly.

O’Waverly became dumbfounded by this, and she just couldn’t believe his reaction. There was no love, no affection, not even a tender kiss.

“Maybe!” She said and grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

Being extremely deflated, she decided not to take the elevator, opting instead to walk down five flights of stairs via a narrow spiral staircase. It would give her some time to compose herself before walking down the street, or possibly meeting some friends or familiar faces. She quickly left the apartment and headed over towards Germain Street and the nearest taxi parking lot. When she reached Olga’s apartment, she moved like a swift wind.

“Madame will be back this evening.” Nee said. Olga had been in Africa for six weeks.

“About when?”

“Around six.” Rhea said.

“Oh! Do you need any help?” Averie asked, thinking that physical work might stop the thoughts of Lawrence.

“No need.” Nee and Rhea replied in unison.

O’Willie goes back to her room and falls asleep. Above her head, the vacuum cleaner in Olga’s luxurious bedroom is blaring loudly.

“Ovelie, child, my dear baby.” Olga’s proud voice rang in her ears, and Ovelli opened her eyes to Olga standing beside her bed. She was always the same: graceful, dignified and elegant in her demeanor.

“Ne and Lea tell me you’re unhappy again, my dear.” Olga cut her to the quick as usual. “What is it about this time? Is it that old demoness, Biniello, bothering you again?”

“No.” O’Willie laughed out loud. It was so much nicer to hear this breathtakingly beautiful. But it was even better to hear her stern, old-fashioned aunt call someone an “old hag.” Both of them knew exactly how that thing looked.

“So what’s it about? Darling.” Olga inquired and sat down on Owerri’s bed and kissed her cheek.

O’Willie could not remember, originally, whether she had intended to tell her aunt these things. But Olga’s sudden display of kindness and affection had shown her an honesty.

“Lawrence,” she said.

“Lawrence!” Olga exclaimed, “Your cousin Lawrence?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, he is very handsome indeed. What happened between you and him?”

“We made love.” O’Willie said simply.

“You did that? You’re just a fool!” Olga screamed out, however when she saw the tears in Owerri’s eyes she tempered her anger. “My little darling, that was very foolish.”

“I know that now, but I do love him.”

“Oh, dear!” Olga said as she spoke. Side took Ovelie’s hand, and stroked it affectionately. “Darling, tell me how it all happened.”

“I went back to his apartment, as I often do; and then we both worked. And then he kissed me, and then down we… we…”

“┅Fuck each other.” Olga then finished her sentence.

“Yes.”

“Don’t you like that look? Isn’t that nice?”

“That’s wonderful.” O’Willie said. “It was like a dream. But after that…, the problem was after that. When I told him I was still a virgin, he didn’t believe me… and then that was very scary.”

Olga picked up Owerri in her arms and rocked her gently as she cried.

“Honey, honey.” Olga said soothingly. “Come on! Don’t cry. Yes, you are in love with him. But there are many others in this world to love. Don’t give up the others. And, my dear; it doesn’t have to be a man you love.”

“Doesn’t have to be a man? I don’t get it.” O’Willie said.

“Don’t you think Nee and Rhea are very happy?”

“Yes.”

“They don’t have a man to love. Nor do they want to have a man to love.”

“Hmm?” Ovelie still wasn’t sure what it meant.

“Darling, they have each other. They love each other; and they make love to each other.”

“That’s impossible!” Ovelie exclaimed, and then she remembered her dream.

“Wow, but it does.” Olga said, “Now, you and I are going out tonight. First we’re going to have some pre-dinner drinks and I’ll take a shower; then I’m going to take you to my favorite restaurant. We will celebrate something.”

“Celebrate something?” O’Willie asked.

“Anything,” Olga said, “for example, I come back to Paris, we’re alive; alive is a good reason, but rich is better. So we’re going to have a drink, and then… well, we’ll see what happens. Now find some nice clothes and put them on.”

As soon as Olga had left, Owerri jumped up, stripped off her clothes; and took a quick shower and searched her impoverished closet. One by one she discarded an assortment of clothes, none of which seemed to meet Olga’s exacting standards. When Nee came in with a dish of something; she was still standing naked.

“Madame said to drink this first.” Nee said, a very large glass in her hand. “It will perk you up first.”

“What is it?”

“A champagne cocktail.” Nee smiled as she said it and then left.

Averie inhaled the drink, which was very sweet, but immediately it went to her head and sent a wave of dizziness through her. It was obvious that it wasn’t going to help her with the question of what she was going to wear tonight. Averie decided further advice was needed. She thought to see if there was something in Olga’s closet that she could borrow. Slipping on her silk morning gown, and armed with her champagne, Averie headed towards Olga’s room. She heard some noises coming from inside the room, causing her to hesitate before knocking on the door before entering.

“Oh, Ovelie it’s you.” Olga said. “Come in, and sit down.”

Ovelie closes the door before she can figure out what’s going on. Olga was sitting in one of the chairs, sipping champagne, and watching Nee and Rhea make love on the bed.

“They are beautiful, aren’t they?” Olga said, “Look at them, aren’t they beautiful beyond words?”

Orviri couldn’t speak. Nee and Rhea were completely naked, their bodies glistening with oil as they were so and so entwined on Olga’s big bed.

Ovelie started for the door.

“No, don’t go, dear.” Olga said and poured a full glass of champagne for Owerri. “You’re about to see something even more beautiful.”

Averie sat down as she watched Nee and Rhea caress each other. They toweled and touched the other’s breasts, then let their hands cross over their stomachs and hips, finally teasing each other’s pubic bones. Then they looked up at Averie.

“We said we’d show you one day; how we don’t need a man.” Rhea said.

Averie laughed, she had felt embarrassed but now she was nine-tenths drunk and literally seduced.

“Go join them on the bed, my dear.” Olga said, “I assure you, you will enjoy it.”

They all looked so happy and relaxed, making Ovelie feel that it would be rude to refuse. Rhea held out a hand to Ovelie and she hesitantly took it; Rhea then pulled her to her.

“I want you to touch me here.” Rhea said, and guided Ovelli’s fingers between her legs. O’Willie felt the rough, curly, dark pubic hair, then the softness of a woman’s skin and flesh open under her touch. It excited her. O’Willie began to feel a rush of dampness between her legs. “Keep stroking me.” Rhea said, and took Ovelie’s other hand and placed it on Nee’s small breasts. “Play with them, hold the nipple, and rub them with your fingers.”

Because she was immersed in the touch of Ovelie’s fingers, Nee’s nipples hardened. This stimulated Ovelie, and she could feel herself becoming augmented and aroused as well. She lewdly spread her legs apart, and she also craved for touch. Because of the pressure that was gradually increasing inside Rhea, she guessed that Ovelie needed to go and be felt at the moment.

“Now, young lady, you must close your eyes and keep them closed.” Rhea said.

O’Willie closed her eyes. Her robe was removed; her body repositioned so that her head could lie on one’s lap. One hand softly and gently began to massage the peaks of her breasts while the other gently wandered over her legs. Averie felt the touch of another pair of breasts and the sensation of a tight hard nipple sliding along her thigh. Then she felt something thick and moist that was toweling the top part of her legs. She opened her eyes and saw Rhea kneeling in front of her, Rhea’s tongue finding the spot O’Willie had dreamed of. Rhea’s touch was so delicate, and the sensations so wonderful, that almost instantly it was as if O’Willie had been transported to another world: a world of sensuality, sex, and fantasy. Then she remembered the first night she had spent with Olga, and her dream about the two maids. It was over, and now she was in the exact replica of that dream.

Then a thought surfaced in Owerri’s mind. Had those two maids really enjoyed her then while she was in a drunken trance? Perhaps, it was they who had taken her virginity. That was why Lawrence had questioned, her assertion that she was still a virgin. O’Willey had never masturbated, so she had no way of knowing if she was precisely a complete wall. Only recently had sex begun to lurk within her. Her first hint of desire was the sight of Stephen’s penis lying as a half-recumbent mast. This, more than anything else, had intrigued her, and thus inspired her to touch it.

“You see, dear. It’s never necessary for you to understand what grief is.” Olga said, “Look how much they take care of you, how much they love you! Now, come to me.”

Ovelie slid off the bed, and stood in front of Olga; she was naked. Gasping and trembling with excitement. Quietly, Olga appreciated the girl’s well-proportioned, rectified, almost manly body. She rose her eyes and licked her own lips indulgently; then reached out a hand and gathered it into a cup over O’Willie’s perky, rosebud-like breasts.

“What do you want to do now, honey?” Olga asked her, and pulled her to her, stroking her belly. “Do you want to stay here and play; or do you want to go for a walk? Maybe we can find a man for you. Do you like being fucked? Honey?”

Ovelie rocked back and forth making her pleasure even more intense. She couldn’t answer Olga, she couldn’t decide what to do. Olga’s hands tracked up Ovelie’s body and began to tease between her legs. Suddenly she wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist, pulling her closer; and quickly shoveled one finger hard into O’Willie’s eager, lustful, swollen pussy.

“Oh dear; you do have a very wet pussy.” Olga said, and jerked her finger up and down.

O’Willie held her body firm and pushed her breasts forward, inviting Olga to use her lips to fasten and suck on the dark brown nipples. Olga sat proudly as if she were playing with a submissive slave. Averie’s ass twisted and rolled as she turned her head to see what Nee and Rhea were doing. The two of them were lying side by side, head and feet together, tonguing each other’s swollen openings. The sight of them energized Averie’s belly and she made every inch of her muscles tense.

“Now I think we should go out for dinner outside.” Olga suddenly said this and sadistically jerked her hand away.

A sharp sense of disappointment overwhelmed Owerri. “I can’t find what to wear.” She said.

“That’s not a problem, we’ll dress you up.” Olga said and showed her the neighboring closet. They searched along the hangers until they found a black leather jacket.

“Try this one on and see.” Olga said.

The dress is a two-piece. The top half had a low cut round neckline, long sleeves, and two belts that went all the way down to her belly buttons and crossed over the corset to form a “V”. Olga helped Owly into the dress and then zipped it up from the back. It was a completely tight fitting dress.

“Beautiful!” Olga said, and tightened the straps that were over O’Willie’s breasts, enabling her bosoms to be held high, rounded, and wrapped and oozing temptation.

“Now put your foot in your skirt.” Olga said.

This leather skirt wrapped tightly around Averie’s slim waist and hips, then planted diagonally with two very wide slits up to her ankles.

“No panties, darling.” Olga said as she slid her hand up O’Willie’s leg, feeling the black hill at her upper end to make sure she was still wet. “Not tonight. I want you to be easily accessible.”

Olga searched her closet drawer and pulled out a pair of delicate black stockings. “Put these on. It doesn’t need a garter, they’ll stick straight on their own. You’ll also need to apply a little more makeup, as well as wear these heels.”

Ovelli put black stockings on her slender legs, as well as wearing these pitch black, very high heeled shoes. Nee and Leia sat up straight and looked at Ovelie.

“Oh! She’s gorgeous!” They said.

“You two come over here. While I change, you can help her with her makeup and hair. I thought we could brush her hair up so it looks more mature.” Olga said. “And pay special attention to her eyes. They’re a beautiful turquoise color and we’ll make sure that everyone will notice her eyes for sure.”

It was several bells later when the two ladies, who looked stunning, neatly groomed and with attractive hair styles, stood in the courtyard waiting for Ollie’s white stretch limousine to pick them up. Olga wore a black evening gown cut diagonally and draped with decorative lace. It enhanced the sexiness of her bones, but masked her sluttiness. Orvilly, on the other hand, looked mesmerizing, a sex goddess through and through. At Olga’s insistence, both ladies wore only a pair of diamond earrings and no other jewelry.

“I’m going to take you to a very special place.” As the limo pulled up and the driver, Drega, jumped out to hold the door open, Olga said so to Owerri.

“Is it to where?” O’Willie asked as she slid into the back seat.

“The Jekyllan’s.” Olga instructed Drega as she sat down next to Ovelie. Ovelie felt very pleased. The Countess Helleger Jekeland was a very well known social hostess who often hosted parties that were as legendary as they were. Her name was always among the gossip, yet only the very wealthy, and the truly privileged, were invited to her salon.

Owerri sat quietly next to Olga. She wanted very much to ask Olga all sorts of questions, but as usual, she felt mildly intimidated and had to keep those thoughts to herself. “My dear,” spoke Olga, “sit with your body straight and don’t sit with your legs crossed.”

Orviri did as Olga ordered. The thin leather strips of her skirt, parted to fall beside her stocking-clad legs, Olga began to rub her knees, then slowly moved her hands along her thighs.

“Now, put your hands neatly in your lap and don’t move them. Unless I tell you what to do, sit like this. When we get to Jackland’s, remember, your bare arms should be close to the chair without any gap.”

Ovelie felt her face flush, but she was excited by the thought. Olga pushed Ovelie’s legs wider apart, and gently rubbed one finger, along her soft pussy. As Ovelie squirmed and twisted to the rhythm of Olga teasing her body. Her breathing back and forth became rapid and short.

“It sounds as if you’re enjoying this, dear.” Olga said.

“Yes.” Averie gasped and longed for more. She wanted those lost fingers to penetrate her deeper.

“Can you think of a better way to spend a whole night?”

“No. I can’t.” Owerri gasped loudly as Olga continued to tease her. She looked out the window and it was obvious the driver knew the way. He drove quickly and with ease across the Rue de Senne, through the sixteenth arrondissement, and toward the Rue des Pos de Bolognes. After that, in the darkness Ovilly was lost; but at last the car drove into the driveway in front of an impressive flamboyant building.

The hems of Olga’s and Orvilly’s dresses swept over the hallowed steps until they reached the raised porch. Olga took a small piece of plastic from her handbag and read it into a computerized metal plate next to the old-fashioned doorbell. The heavy, massive, blackened doorway swung open. On that side of the raised marble hall was a huge man; built like a bodybuilding champion, but dressed in the uniform of a head servant. He, bowed to Olga.

“Duchess,” he welcomed.

“Good night, Kurt.” She said, “I’m here for the dinner.”

Orvilly followed Olga and the head servant. Through the long, bright, wide corridor, into a soft, bright dining room. It was full of people dressed formally and chatting happily.

The head servant guided them, to a table in the center of the room. This table, too, like everything else, was set up with the most extraordinary decorations. In addition to a pot of flowers, slender feathers of every color were ensconced in a vase, and as they made their way along, men and women of all sorts waved and smiled at Owly.

“Don’t forget what I told you∶naked ass.” Olga reminded as they reached the table.

“And no matter what happens, unless you have been eating or drinking, your hands must be neatly placed in your lap.”

The waiter pulled out the chair for Averie so she could sit down easily. She went to the front of the chair and, unlike her usual practice of first smoothing out her skirt below her ass, quickly pushed the leather to one side, allowing the other diners a quick glimpse of her well-proportioned, bare ass and the tops of her legs in black stockings.

O’Willie was surprised to find that the swan stockings were rough against her bare skin and made her feel itchy. Likewise, there was a longitudinal ridge in the center of the chair that made it difficult for her to close her legs. She then realized that if she sat up straight, as Olga had taught her to do, and let her muscles tense and rock: the velvet and the ridge combined would stimulate her and make her protruding wet pussy lips open even more.

“Comfortable?” Olga asked her and smiled, knowing what Owerri was going through.

“Yes. Thank you.” Owerri replied, wondering if Olga was sitting the same way. The waiter brought an ice bucket filled with champagne. And in their glasses, they poured the foam-filled liquid.

“This used to be a big ballroom.” Olga said, and saw that Owerri was browsing the grunge of the decor.

“Darling, it’s very artistic, isn’t it?”

Ovelli appreciated the glittering glass chandeliers and the swirling shapes painted on the various mirrors, ceilings and walls. “It is indeed very beautiful here.”

“Jekylland used to make some changes.” Olga said, and pointed to a stage at the far end where a small orchestra was playing some classical pieces. She then points to two elevated four-foot high boxes that extend down each side of the main body of the room. Inside the boxes were six couples who looked particularly impressive seated at tables and, like everyone else in the room, were dressed in formal evening gowns. The ladies wore strapless gowns in very bright colors, making them easily recognizable from whatever corner of the room they were in. O’Shaughnessy couldn’t see the bottom half of their bodies because they were covered by a long curtain that hung down from the railing that ran across the box at table height. The curtain went down to their feet, so that Orvilly could see the high heels the ladies were wearing.

The waiter presented them both with smoked salmon.

“No menu?” O’Willie asked.

“Nope. The chef decides everything here.” Olga replied.

By the time O’Willie’s attention was drawn to several dwarves dressed in the uniforms of eighteenth-century Helezian servants, parading below the box and looking up, she had already taken two full bites. Averie wasn’t just intimidated by the height of the group. Each one was less than four feet tall; but also for the fact that, to her, they looked just plain ugly. They were already so ugly that they were almost grotesque and ridiculous. She looked at them for a moment, then seeing that nothing was happening, she continued her meal.

Olga ordered another bottle of champagne. “Is Pierre on duty tonight?” She asked the waiter.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He replied. “But we have a new arrival: Carlo. I thought you would like to meet him.”

“What does he look like?” She asked.

“I’ll send him over.” He said.

The Special One bowed, and after a while a very ugly dwarf in a robe stood up beside Olga with a toothy grin. He stooped his shoulders and winked at Owerri; it sent shivers down her spine. With bulging muscles, thick eyebrows over tiny eyes, a squashed nose and two thick lips, Carlo was a pint-sized and extremely ugly dwarf. But bursting with an energetic, and highly unfair sexuality. He looked so out of tune with the beauty that surrounded them. O’Willie wondered what he could do on Earth that would be most appropriate.

“You’re Carlo.” Olga spoke.

“Yes, Your Highness. I am here at your service, Your Highness.” The man replied in a low rumbling voice.

“I wish you could.” Olga said sternly and unzipped his coat. Olga proceeded to turn the dwarf towards Owerri and her eyes widened at the sight before her. Carlo’s very large, but at the moment limp sex symbols were attached to his hips. Astonished Ovelie also noticed that even in this situation his penis was almost as long as his knees. Olga turned around in her seat and cupped his balls with one hand before encircling his massive rod with the other and began to slowly rub it. O’Willie gulped and squirmed, getting more and more aroused as Carlo’s dick grew bigger and bigger under Olga’s skillful strokes.

“Did Jacqueline pick you?” Olga asked him.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Carlo said.

“She picked well. I’m glad.” She said.

Olga smiled and looked toward the box. Her eyes found an attractive, slender black girl in a silver strapless blouse. She took a long silver feather from a bottle and handed it to Carlo. He took it, bowed, and walked to the box. Olga picked up her table knife and fork as if no trouble had occurred, and proceeded to resume eating.

Ovelie’s curiosity was piqued as she watched Carlo stand beneath the girl, raising his hand that held the silver feather, and standing as if he were cleaning the podium ceiling, “What’s he doing?” Ovelie asked confused.

“He was tickling her pussy.” Olga replied.

Aroused by the thought and imagining that a feather was toweling her, O’Willie licked her lips and gently shifted her hips as the fabric of the chair tickled her privates once more. Olga picked out a black feather and held it out to Owly.

“Put it between your legs.” Olga commanded her. “Don’t play with it, just put it there to towel touch you.”

Ovelli complied with her, placing the feather so its tip rested on her nub. Ovelie smiles at Olga and then browses the room again. She notices various men and women at the table with other dwarves holding different feathers nearby. Each of the ladies sitting in the box at the moment had a dwarf standing under the floor holding a feather the same color as their evening gowns, tickling her pussy.

“But how did they do it?” O’Willie asked.

“There’s a hole under their chairs.” Olga said.

“But…” said Owerri, wanting to know something more.

“Look.” Olga interrupted with a shush.

The head servant appeared and pulled a cord, causing the curtains that had been covering the underside of the box to fall. Orvilly then realized that all the couples on the box were naked from the waist down. They were sitting on the glass so that every part of them was visible to everyone in the room. O’Willie noticed that most of the men’s dicks were already erect, and some of them had partners who were teasing their dicks with their feet.

The head servant made a signal, and then two waiters appeared. From the orchestra came a blast of trumpets, and then slowly, like a dance, the waiters walked past each dwarf, undid their tunics, and removed them. With a wave, the waiters exposed the dwarves’ large testicles, and majestic dicks, as the diners watched in excitement. As they continued to tickle their pussies with one hand, the Waiter discreetly pulled the dwarves’ other hand up and placed it on their own cock; and whispered the command, “Start masturbating.”

As she watched these dwarves rubbing their massive dicks, Ovelie found herself unable to move her ass in circles on her own. She began to slide back and forth over the small protruding ridge between her thighs and became more bloated and wet; intensely eager to touch herself. She hoped Olga wouldn’t notice, but carefully let her hand snake down between her legs.

“No. You can’t!” When Olga realized that Owerri was planning to do something, she stopped her with a voice that carried authority.

Ovelli decided to change the direction of her vision. Turning to look at the ladies on the box. She noticed that they were still eating and talking as if nothing was wrong. Thinking about how she felt when her own pussy was being teased, O’Willie was amazed; and recounted it all to Olga.

“They are trained.” Olga told her speculatively.

O’Verey would have asked further questions, but the waiter brought up mustard or raw mixed beef for them at that moment; the stage players retired, and the lights were dimmed.

When the lights came back on, a redhead, stately as a carved elephant, was sitting on the stage with her legs split. Her neck.

Breasts and arms, all tightly wrapped in a bright red dress. A wrinkled dress wrapped around her hips.

There was a long dark object fastened between her legs, and as she got up, O’Willey realized it was a microphone. The woman began to sing in a low, husky voice.

“Is it an aftershow?” O’Willie asked.

“It’s just the opening.” Olga replied.

When she had finished the first verse, the young lady stepped down from the stage, and began to pass among the diners. Sometimes she bent over the men and kissed their heads; or she would sit on their laps. But as she moved closer and closer to the center of the room, she became bolder and bolder. O’Willie watched as she lifted her leg and placed the high heel of her shoe on the knee of one of the men; and picked up a piece of food from his plate, then dragged it along her oiled pussy lips before popping it into the man’s mouth. Olga saw O’Willie wiggle and lick her lips and knew she was both aroused; and frustrated. She greeted the wench to come to the front of her table.

“Heidi,” she said, “I want you to meet the young lady: O’Willie.”

Heidi coiled one leg over O’Willie’s neck so that her pussy rested against O’Willie’s shoulder; and lowered her head to kiss O’Willie on the lips as a greeting.

Olga reached out with one hand and undid the only button holding the woman’s skirt, and it fell to the floor in response, revealing her naked pussy and her round, plump ass. The other guests applauded. Olga smiled to show that she appreciated the applause; and sat back in her chair and pushed her body slightly so as to fasten the singer’s pubic mound. As she did so, the woman let out a quick gasp. As Olga’s fingers began to slide in and out of the singer’s body, a pang of jealousy welled up in Averie.

“What would Your Highness like today?” The lady asked courteously and with her body swaying back and forth in time with the fingers of the Olga expedition.

“Want to see you get fucked.” Olga said.

Olga poked her body across the tabletop to Ovelie, who was drinking ice-scented chess with her voice.

“Do you like it? Darling. Are we going to see one of these one of these cocks sliding in and out of this pretty, plump pussy?” Olga asked Ovelli. Then she made a gesture to her waiter; “Clear the table and tell Carlo he’s been ordered.”

O’Willie fiddled with her glass and watched as Carlo strutted across the room; his huge dick still bobbing from time to time as he made his way over to Olga. “We’d like to see : you impale your lovely big dick into Heidi’s lovely pussy.” Olga said as she wrapped her hand around his engorged home fire. “But first, I want to see how far my companion can go. Orvilly, I will now allow you to feel him. This is a real dick, a hard dick. Carlo, let her feel you.”

O’Willey set down her champagne glass and hesitantly placed her cold hand, on the crown of his penis.

“You’re no longer a virgin playing with a worker’s rod!” Olga said mockingly, “Rub it.”

O’Willie was suddenly alert: everyone in the room was watching her. The coldness of her fingertips stimulated Carlo to become harder and more erect than the warmth of his cock. Deciding not to listen to Olga right away, O’Willie picked up the glass full of scented water and dipped Carlo’s cock into it. Then she started to rub it. As he began to gasp for air, she took complete hold of his massive balls with her other hand. She took her eyes off his rod and turned them to the half-open, half-closed eyes of the ugly dwarf. His eyes were strangely ugly, but incredibly sexy; it made her wet cunt, tense even more against the feathers and brocade weave of the chair, and twist her body.

“You look as if your pussy is soaked.” Carlo said as he placed his big, fat hands on O’Willie’s beautiful, high and round breasts. She moved faster and faster above the small protruding ridge sitting between her legs as the interplay of taking the midget’s huge dick in her hand and the touch of his hand on her nipple stimulated her.

“She put a feather on the inside of her leg.” Olga said to Heidi: “Let her know a little; when the pussy is tickled by someone else. What it feels like.”

Heidi poked her body over the tabletop and picked up the feather lying between O’Willie’s thighs; and began dragging it along her greedy private parts. O’Willie sat up in the chair with her whole body slack and pushed her breasts hard against Carlo’s massaging hand while arching her hips and tightening her ass. Rubbing against Carlo’s rod and balls and letting the feathers continue to stimulate her even further. She was beginning to learn what real and heightened sexual joy was.

“Now stop and bend over at the waist.” Olga said, pulling the redhead away from Ovelli and pushing her down onto the tabletop. At this point O’Willie noticed that the waiter had not only cleared the table top: he had also moved everyone in their vicinity out of the way. Olga, Averie, Heidi, and Carlo were now standing alone in the center of the room. They were a deft quartet; Olga teasing Heidi’s pussy with her hand, and O’Waverly teasing a big fat cock, and everyone in the room was watching them. Heidi bent her body over so that her round, naked ass could be right in front of the excited and waiting audience.

“Spread your legs.” Olga ordered her. The girl spread her legs wide and her pink swollen pussy was on full display for all to see.

“Carlo, first I want you to suck her pussy.” Olga ordered.

Carlo moved toward Heidi and took his huge dick in his hand; then turned his body in turn toward everyone in the room. He was extremely cocky about his oversized prick and wanted them all to worship it. Some of the ladies gasped at the size of it, which aroused Carlo even more; and rubbed it harder, making it harder and firmer. Then he stepped between one of the lady’s long legs and brought her waiting, wet private parts up to his mouth. He stood in front of her and stuck his big tongue out; and began to lick her very swollen, kinky opening with drooling spurts. O’Willie’s whole body now felt tingling inside her; her private parts opened up and became moist. She was just as eager to be touched and teased.

“Put your hands neatly in your lap.” Olga spoke grimly to Owerri.

Ovelie did as she was told, but Olga’s punishment made her even more lascivious. She glanced slyly at Olga. She noticed that the empty table in the box was now occupied by the guests they had come with. They had all taken off most of their clothes and were having sex. Around O’Willie, she saw some men pulling their cocks out of their pants, while their bare-breasted partners knelt in front of them and sucked on them. Others were playing with the breasts of their female companions, and some even lifted up their companions’ clothes and gently rubbed them between their pussies and buttocks.

At the center of all this sexual activity, Countess Hélène Jacquelin sauntered over to the table in front of Orvélie and Olga and stood next to Olga’s chair. She crossed her arms and reached into Olga’s dress with her hands right next to each other so that she could hold, and twist, Olga’s nipples. Olga reached out a hand and pulled Jackland’s face closer to hers; and planted a deep kiss on Falkland’s plump, bright red lips.

Orvilly is struck by the beauty of the Countess, and learns how she was able to capture the heart of the old Count Hélène within a few days of her arrival in Paris. The old Count quickly marries her. Then, within three months of their marriage, he dies, bequeathing to Jacqueline millions of pounds.

There were rumors that she was Hungarian, but no one could be sure. Likewise, no one could determine exactly how old she was; it was speculated that she was somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five. With a pair of peaches that didn’t need to be lined, and a cream-colored skin, she had absolutely no idea of her age from her appearance. She wore her brilliant blonde hair in soft swirls around her head, and a few strands of it fell to the side of her neck, making her look even more frail. She was tall and slender; dressed in a fairytale European style gown, embellished with lace that flowed all over the blue-green silk. Although the dress slightly covered her nipples, it emphasized her great bosom. The ruffles on the gown, as well as the long slit down the center, were cinched by a rose pinned near her cleavage exposed by the low neckline.

“Jeclan, darling; let me look at you.” Olga slowly pulled back the silk lace; the first thing revealed was the white stockings, and then Jacqueline’s naked and beautiful body. Olga ran her hands over Jackland’s stomach and began to caress her between her legs. Then she lowered her head and licked the Countess’s clitoris, and Falkland began to gasp with pleasure.

“Darling,” she whispered, and looked at O’Waverly: “She’s so completely saintly, everyone wants her.” O’Willie felt a sharp tingle of disappointment, and she desperately wanted to be sexually liberated. Her buds were tingling with the teasing, and the tickled. She turned her attention to the stage above, where the curtains had been drawn. A huge, tilted bed was placed in the center of the stage, covered with a white, shiny satin quilt and a pile of pillows.

“I’ve decided that I’m going to change the order in which the actors go on stage.” Olga said.

“What have you decided, my dear?” Jeclan said and placed a deep kiss on Olga’s lips as she continued to caress her thighs.

“Just wait and see.” Olga replied.

At that moment O’Willie heard a series of loud gasps and screams from one of the compartments above her. She looked up and to her horror: she saw her cousin Lawrence. Beside him, a tall, beautiful black woman was lying on her back on the rail of the box; as he fucked her from behind. His hands were holding her breasts.

O’Willey sat with intent. Sexual jealousy and anger overwhelmed her. Olga noticed Ovrie’s angry gaze; and followed her eyes to the top of the box. Lawrence was doing what he had been doing since he arrived in Paris. Fucking Bedorf’s favored slave, Reyesha. Olga’s eyes caught a glimpse of the man sitting at the table near Lawrence, her ex-husband Bedorf. At the moment Bedorf was as naked as the day he was born. Between his legs there was also a woman whose head was rapidly going up and down his cock, Olga waved to him and he waved back to her. Ovelli noticed Bedorf and also saw the way Olga licked her own lips as Jackland possessively circled Olga’s breasts. Olga smiled at Orvilly.

“This family must love extreme intercourse.” Olga said in a rambling voice and tightened her grip on Jeclan’s ass.

Jacqueline grinned lewdly.

“I want to be fucked.” O’Willie said.

“Oh; you do. Do you want to?” Olga said, “Then you should want to.”

“Are they going to strap a bunch of stuff on her?” Jackland asked.

‘No,” said Olga: “Jekylland, take O’Willy to bed.”

O’Willey stood up, and happily followed Jekylland to the stage. Now that she was there; the room was plunged into pitch blackness as the stage lights trained on the two women. The lights were so intense that it made it necessary for Averie to reach up with one hand to cover her eyes.

“You don’t need to do that.” The Countess said and picked up a strip of blindfold that was sitting next to the bed and tied it over Ovelie’s eyes. She then guided Ovelie to the bed. Jeclan sat her down. And undid the straps on her corset; she placed O’Willie’s hands on her head and tied O’Willie’s hands to a post. She spread O’Willie’s legs apart and tied her ankles securely to a wide rope dangling from the bedside hoop. Then she placed a couple of pillows under O’Willie’s buttocks so that the girl’s brassy, swollen, blood-filled private parts could be fully exposed and given a clear view. Jeclan searched under another pillow for a moment, then she pulled out a tiny vibrator. She twisted it open and held it against O’Willie’s clit. Allowing it to slide into her wet spot. As Ovelli began to lift her hips up. And spread her legs tantalizingly wide, Jeclan nodded to Olga and the stage lights suddenly went out completely.

When the stage lights came back on, Carlo appeared where Jeclan had just been standing. He was sliding a vibrator over her clit with one hand and stroking his big, firm rod with the other. Then, when he changed positions, the bed turned and tilted downward so that O’Rollie’s head was facing the bottom of the stage.

A slim young woman is tied to a bed with ropes; between her legs stands an ugly midget that looks like a demon and has a donkey’s penis hanging from it; the midget is also facing her private parts. The sight sends waves of lustful sensations into the viewer’s mind.

“Fuck her, fuck her!” The room began to scream continuously.

In the light, Carlo didn’t towel any other part of O’Willie’s body, just ran the crown of his huge dick up and down along her honeyed pussy lips. She tensed her muscles, spread her legs wider, and raised her hips to meet him. Slowly, so that everyone in the room could see, Carlo turned sideways and followed his path into O’Willie’s waiting pussy. With each little jab, O’Willie let out a deep gasp and longed for more, for more intensity. Suddenly he came with a quick jab that began to resemble a possessive man riding her, and a cheer went up from all over the room. Averie didn’t know what slammed into her, but she accepted him, including every inch of him. Her ass lifted higher and higher so that she could meet each thrust of his cock. Until she was twisting and turning her body, moaning and gasping and writhing so and so. She had long ago lost track of whether she was just about to come in; or if she was just about to leave.

Out of the darkness a hand reached out and gripped her breasts tightly, a cock emerged and went into her mouth; another mouth sucked on her toes. When the stage was fully illuminated, everyone could see a group of dwarves standing on the bed and feasting on O’Willie; they waved their huge rods against her body, extracting every bit of her essence. O’Willie responded furiously, enjoying every minute of the moment.

The lights dimmed again. When the lights came back on, Ovelli was sitting alone on the bed with the cloth over her eyes removed. She was met with loud applause all around her, and she smiled with satisfaction. Then the ugly dwarves came up to the stage in groups and bowed; and for a moment the smile disappeared from Ovelie’s face. Had they scarfed her? Had these ugly dwarves just made love to her? Was that the man who penetrated her? She wondered. From the depth and width of that cock, the man was probably Carlo. When the lights dimmed, she slid off the bed and made her way toward where Olga and Jackland were sitting.

“Who was it? Was it one of those horrible dwarves who fucked me?” Ovelie asked, almost crying.

“Is it important?” Olga asked.

“Yes!” O’Waverly said, “You know full well that I wish it was Lawrence who owned me.”

“Lawrence!” Olga called out. “But darling, you’ve had him once today, now it’s time for you to discover other guys, and you just seemed like you could enjoy yourself. You enjoyed that look, didn’t you?”

“Aurelie, answer me honestly: “Do you like it?”

“Yes…” said Owerri, having to admit the frightening truth.

“Very well.” Olga said, “Now it’s time to go home.”

O’Willie noticed that most of the guests had already left.

“We look forward to welcoming you again.” The Countess said, and kissed Owerri on both cheeks.

Ovelie smiled weakly.

“I think she’s exhausted.” Olga said.

“She should be.” Jeclan replied, “You had a wonderful experience making love, darling.

Remember, now that you are inducted; you can come here and bang anyone you want. Man or woman; we don’t care. Our only rule is that everything is out in the open on the stage. But we don’t tell outsiders. Have we told anyone else? Honey?”

“Never.” Olga echoed. “We’ve never had secrets from each other either.”

Jeclan kissed Olga goodbye and the head servant led them to the door. Outside, Olga’s car was already waiting.

“Ma’am, was it a success tonight?” Drega, the driver, asked as he opened the door.

“Absolutely!” Olga replied. She grinned like a cat before turning her head to Ovelie and adding, “By the way, Drega is my personal property. On some rare occasions, when I want a man, I want him. No man is allowed to touch him, understand?”

A few weeks after Olga and Orvilly had become lovers, when Olga told her that it was Carlo who had fucked her that first night; an enraged Orvilly, even though she often fucked Lawrence and the male members of the salon. Also privately taking advantage of every opportunity. Secretly fucking Drega as a way to return the favor to Olga.

From her recollections, O’Verey went back to her office in London, and the trio of bodies before her, yes, she thought to herself; and if Bignolo had not thrown her out that day, she would never have discovered that sex could be so varied. Nor would she ever have become Olga’s lover; a regular visitor in the Jekylland salon; a part of Olga’s and Bedorf’s sect; or, through her share in the Ovation Company, a very rich woman. But none of these, however, lessened O’Willie’s thirst for revenge.

When Terry reached his climax, he cried out; then he went limp. The two girls looked pleased with themselves.

“Very good.” Orvilly said eagerly. “Now you must agree that wearing these clothes will make you very handy.” The girls nodded. “All right, get changed.” Jill and Mary put back on their original own clothes. “You said: she will interview you on Monday?” They nodded again. “Okay! It’s important that all three of you get the job. Now she is known as Miss Chastity and is very formal and meticulous; don’t let her get suspicious. You must begin little by little, but wait until her middle-class clientele is well established.”

“Are we going to molest each other if Terry isn’t around?”

“Yes, but make sure you’re always seen. The faster her inn closes down, the bigger your reward will be.” Averie said.

“Does Bedorf know?” Terry asked.

“Bedorf knows every single thing that happens to every member under his command.” O’Waverly said speculatively, thinking that she had to be careful with Terry. If Bedorf found out what she was doing now, it might jeopardize her position in the church. “Call me on Monday and let me know if you guys got that job yet.” She looked at the clock with a side order. It was almost two o’clock now. She opened the door for Mary, Jill and Terry to walk out into the sunny street. Averie heard her staff return and she retreated to her own office. After clearing her desk, she picked up the phone to call her husband.

The phone was occupied. She puts down the receiver, cruises around her empty office, and smiles. Pepto & Co. had once been just a dream, and with Bedorf’s financial help, she and Bedorf’s ex-wife, Olga, had made it come true.

Ovelli and Olga practiced benevolent dictatorship at Pepto, which, almost unexpectedly, gave them an indispensable background in Russian management. When they started the business, they had a very clear set of concepts, which they have retained. This is a relatively young company, and so far it has been very successful. This is not only due to the good design of Orvil, but also to their management strategy. They have made the business work without a hitch. Waste of any kind: time, telephone calls and stationery are kept to an absolute minimum.

Their weaving factory in France employs only married women with children and provides their workers with childminders, a doctor and a nursery. Their headquarters in Paris, as well as Ovrie’s office in London, were staffed by unmarried women under the age of thirty. O’Willey and Olga offered better than average salaries and gave them an excellent system of private annuities. But they never paid Christmas bonuses, or gave them staff cars; or anything else to put on a pedestal. All calls were timed and a detailed record kept; any personal calls were billed at the end of each week. If there were too many personal calls, employees were warned. Two warnings and they were fired.

All paper, envelopes, pens, ball-point pens, and photocopies were to be paid for; and theft, even of the most trivial things, was not permitted, and this meant immediate dismissal. Employees were paid from nine o’clock in the morning until six o’clock in the evening, and every member was required to be at work at nine o’clock sharp. Employees are also not allowed to stay in the building after six o’clock. If an employee was late once, their pay was deducted by the number of minutes they were late. If they were late twice, they were fired. Olga and Owerri’s reasoning is that people are never late for flights to catch their holidays, so if they are late, they must basically be fed up with their jobs, and it’s time for them to leave. All employees are given two hours at noon to eat lunch so that they can eat comfortably and do any necessary shopping. The offices and factories were completely closed between twelve and two o’clock, and the only-people allowed to stay in their rooms were Ovelli and Olga.

O’Waverly dialed Gary’s number one more time, and all the extensions remained occupied. O’Willie put down the microphone, then walked over to the filing cabinet and pulled out some documents and samples of different weavings. She picked up a pencil and began to doodle as she went along. She thought about the top secret program she was working on right now. If she could finish it beautifully, it would mean a lot of money for her and Olga, as well as the entire Pepto Corporation. It was a program that involved her husband, but he knew nothing about it. That was why she had married him.

Ovelli and Gary met at an air show in Goebbels. It happened after the death of a Greek millionaire named Quarks. The man owned a fleet of luxury airplanes; and so the two of them went there to try to forget their grief. Pepto & Co. had the contract to refurbish the airplanes, but when Quarks died, his daughter immediately sold the fleet, and of course Pepto & Co. lost the contract. Now Olga and Orvilly are desperately trying to find replacements. It’s not an easy job, and people are closing down businesses in droves, not opening them.

Gary has long been in love with O’Willey, and when they both return to London, Gary wastes no time in approaching her. She takes some interest in him, as rumor has it in the city that his father, Mr. Henry Ho, is about to start a new airline.

“This could be the answer.” Olga told O’Willie this one night as she and O’Willie lay in bed together in O’Willie’s small apartment overlooking Reagan Park.

“You must find out if it’s true, dear.” She appended, and slowly stroked Averie’s naked form. They had been lovers of each other for several years now.

“How?” Owly asked.

“Let him take you out.” Olga suggested and kissed her neck. “Then you’ll figure out a way.”

And O’Willie did figure it out. She decided to put in Gary’s apartment. Bugging the various light fixtures around the perimeter. She monitored all the conversations between him and his father and found out that the rumors were indeed true.

“What shall I do now?” O’Willie inquired of Olga when she later visited Paris.

“You must marry Hejeri.” Olga answered her.

“I can’t.” O’Willie said.

“You’ll do anything for business.” Olga countered her. “And you must never fail in order to become Mr. Henry’s daughter-in-law. It is a prize, my dear, a great prize.”

Their reward, if successful, would be a contract that would include soft furnishings and carpets for Mr. Henry’s planes, as well as the rights to design lounges in all the airports where he had landing rights.

“My God!” Ovelie said. “Olga, it’s one thing to make love to someone, but it’s another thing to marry someone! I don’t want to get married, and I’m very happy with you. I’m also very happy to be part of the Church. I can just make love to whomever I want, when I want; and I can walk away when I’m done. In any case, how could I possibly marry him? I know a lot of women want him.”

“My dear,” the high-spirited, aristocratic, elegant Olga answered her. “It’s easy; first you have to understand men. You don’t need to fuck him; at least not for a long time. Men like to go after it; and the harder they go after it, the more they want it. Gary will think that if you don’t make love to him, you won’t make love to anyone else; you’re pure. They all want their brides to be pure. All you have to do is get him to come in front of you and close your legs together; very tightly, and then he’ll marry you. Next thing you know, the contract is ours. You’re a very good designer, but the reason Pepto & Co. will win over all in; is because you’re Henry’s daughter-in-law.”

Ovelie hugged Olga and got the meaning of what she was saying.

“Is everything true? Olga?” She asked. “Will men still want virgins?”

“Oh, sure! It’s ironic, isn’t it? They don’t even know what they’re getting!”

“No,” O’Waverly agreed, “they’re buying without looking at the goods!” She laughed. And then she married Yireh.

“You’ll always be able to find a reason to divorce that man after we get that contract.”

Olga had told her so.

And that, in a nutshell, was exactly what O’Willey was trying to do right now. He had begun to move the next stage in her plan; but first she must get that contract. The competition was so fast and furious, and she knew that Mr. Henry moved quickly. She also knew that the outfits shown by several specific design firms were permanently combinable. She’d spent many days planning her designs and briefs, now she was just waiting for the news to go public.

The only shadow before her eyes now was that morning, Gary’s strange demeanor. It haunted her; nothing could go wrong at this juncture. She picked up the telephone, and dialed his number again.

His new secretary told her he was in a meeting that couldn’t be interrupted; it was the third time all day that he had refused to take her call. She thought back to that strange incident that morning: he’d shaken her awake, then slapped her hard on the ass, then left the house without saying a word. No “Good morning.” Not a kiss; not a thing.

Orvilly calls her father’s secretary, Caroline, and asks her what’s going on. Orvilly was sure that she and Caroline were coexisting peacefully, even though the secretary had proudly told her that Caroline had made love to Gary not long before their wedding. If Caroline wanted to make O’Willie feel jealous, she had unfortunately miscalculated. O’Willie couldn’t have been more indifferent, so she tried to maintain her friendship with Caroline.

She had her trust; at least that’s what O’Shellie thought.

Caroline told Owly that there was nothing troubling as far as she knew. Gaydon had a series of meetings to attend that day, but from what she could tell, he would be alone in his office right now. Very worried, Orvilly sits back and tries to figure out the reason for his strange demeanor.

Gary had been so happy when he came home the night before that he wanted to have sex, but she didn’t want to. He’d tried to stir her up by talking about his fantasies, but it hadn’t worked for her at all. Why should she listen to him when she had already mostly put her desires into action that day? Besides, she was exhausted. Between making love to Bedorf’s latest beginner and working hard on her newsletter, she’d been drained of all her energy.

But now, in her office; her touch reached out. She knew she had upset her husband.

Although she gets bored with him, now is not the time to give him reason to walk away, after all. She experiences the need to do something quick to see, or else her whole marriage disguise will be useless. She had to use her sexiness to save, whatever it was; yes. Gary had been telling her fantasies about another woman in their bed, and in order to hide her own desire for a woman, she’d been pretending to be shocked by what he was talking about every time. But that wasn’t the only reason she was pretending; she didn’t want Gary to find out that she was part of her Uncle Bedorf’s cult. Gary had also spoken of his desire to see her being fucked by another man. Maybe she should have agreed with all that and suggested they do the same. The phone suddenly rang beside her, and she didn’t answer it. After a moment her secretary told her; it was her cousin Jenny on the line.

“Ask her to leave a message telling her I’m out.” Ovelli said.

Jenny! Now there was a good meal tonight. She had always had the ill-intentioned suspicion that Jenny had a crush on Gary. It would be very interesting at this point if she got the two into bed. Then, as soon as the contract became hers, she could take advantage of Gary’s fling with Miss Chastity and divorce him. It was a good idea to think over carefully. Various combinations of lovemaking swirled around in O’Waverly’s mind; but only the idea of Chastity and Gary making love could make O’Waverly’s mood a little better. She began to do a piece of work that she had left over from the afternoon, and stopped caring about Gary’s strange behavior.

She had already thought of another alternative.

Long after her staff had gone home and she had gone back to work, her personal phone rang: it was Gary inviting her out to dinner.

O’Willey changed out of her overalls, jeans and sweats, took a shower and put on her latest Parisian collection: an ornately cut, hand-twisted silk dress in a pale yellowish-green color. It complimented her color and her figure perfectly. She brushed her hair until it shone and applied makeup. Ovelie was equipped with every piece of equipment at her disposal; she was ready to go to war.

(End of chapter 3)

(to be continued)