Lust is an indescribable hunger in the depths of our hearts, an eternal desire that is never abandoned. Even when the desire has been satisfied, a lustful person still expects a desire to follow. It doesn’t matter who the partner is, what matters to an addict is the lust itself. The story begins in Paris, the romantic capital of the world. From the high class hotels of Paris to the seedy alleys, Olenya pursues her goal: she wants to become a member of the “Big Love Devils”, an off-the-record, hedonist’s paradise. But the rules of the “Big Love Devils” are strict, and while she enjoys the orgasms of her debauchery trials, her taste for sexual adventure is tested again and again.
Chapter 1
The man’s hands were wide and strong, like a pair of bear claws. A shiver of excitement ran through Ou Lingya as his elastic fingers slid over her body, and he aroused her desire. His lips covered hers, his tongue against her warm, soft mouth. Ou Lingya responded passionately, expectantly.
She reached out to stroke the man, she slowly sought out the thick, straight youkai beneath his pants, he was full of sex appeal and another wave of pleasure hit O’Lingya like a wave, she could pin again.
She looked around, hoping no one had disturbed them. As she had calculated, the elevator was safely between two floors, and it would be more than half an hour before the engineers passed it again, a little excitement would be time enough.
O’Lingya released the man’s arms around her and skillfully unzipped his pants as he opened his mouth unresistingly …… O’Lingya thought that a man like this would be used to and comfortable with the way she made love. He then gasped as he felt Olenya’s soft fingers reach into his pants and pull out his already erect penis.
“Bravo, baby!” Olenya yelled down, as she stroked his cock gently and delicately. “You feel good, now let’s see if you can feel even better.”
She looked at her “booty” with pleasure, even though it was not too long, which was fine, because it was thick and straight. She doubted she would have had the energy to enjoy the entirety of this fascinating “trophy” when she had first gotten a mind-blowing experience from it. Olenya’s lips drew close to it, circled it, and he couldn’t help but moan, wrapping his arms around her head, rubbing her hair spasmodically, and uttering unintelligible murmurs.
O’Lingya couldn’t understand his ravings at all, but what did it matter? She wasn’t here to make polite conversation with him. She stuck her tongue out and licked the tip of the young man’s cock, tasting a salty flavor of the cum that was secreted there. As much as she wanted to make at this point, she didn’t want to get it all too quickly. She wanted to have a short, exciting ride with him – enough to drive her crazy and mesmerize her, and had to prepare him adequately for it first.
Her hand slid down his penis and reached a pair of bulbous seminal vesicles, which were pressed between his thighs. The sacs “lay” beautifully in her palm, full and moist, like a tropical fruit. The sensation aroused her, a warm, wet liquid flowed from between her legs, and her pussy convulsed with erotic desire.
Olenya teased the young man for a while longer, wanting to make the man’s desire grow so strong that it would be difficult for him to contain it, while she herself could enjoy herself. Again and again she denied him access to her mouth, despite his attempts to fulfill his own desires and bring himself to orgasm. He was a little annoyed and a little disappointed, but his annoyance and disappointment didn’t stop her, because she realized that the longer the game went on, the more pleasure he would enjoy when she finally had “mercy” on him.
When Aurinia felt the man was a little exhausted, her mouth finally accepted him. She saw that his genitals were backlit, covered in saliva and mixed with his own semen. This crazy spunky Englishwoman wasn’t going to let him get away with that.
“Young man, be spirited!” O’Lingya ordered him. “Look what I’ve brought you.”
Her hands went to her waistline and tugged up her shirt, revealing a pair of red shorts that wrapped tightly around her hips, short enough that even her dark brown curly pubic hair peeked over the edges of the shorts. Eagerly, Olenya pulled down the shorts and stomped out of them. She smiled wryly as her wardrobe pants brushed the edge of the young man’s face, her moist, fragrant bottom in full view. The young man closed his eyes, lost in the scent of the woman in front of him.
“Oh God ……”
Ou Lingya stood with her back against the inner wall of the elevator and her legs apart. One of her hands into between her legs, stroking her labia, clitoris, showing the young male elevator attendant in front of a “blooming flower”, he could not help in the moist wonderful “garden” in the mind. Oleander smiled lustfully, now she was really ready to enjoy her pleasure. ……
The man gave her a lustful, yet less than willing, look as she enticed him to witness her pleasuring herself, and she reveled in it. She knew how much he wanted to throw the brazen, frivolous woman before him to the floor and have her, but it wasn’t hard to guess that something seemed to be holding him back. After all, the young lady was a welcome guest at the prestigious Parisian hotel, and he was nothing more than an ordinary clerk. At the slightest nudge from O’Lingya, the nice young man would have to do as he was told.
Yet, if he could see into her mind, he would think how inexplicable and absurd his fears were. She merely wanted a little physical pleasure from him. Besides, it would be a pleasure to conquer such an opinionated, attractive man. Besides, there was no harm in subjecting such an energetic young man to the temptations of a woman.
Now the poor lad’s eyes were round and a little downcast. He dropped one hand to stroke his lower back, but O’Linya shook her head sternly and pushed his hand away.
“Honey, you can’t do that! Understand? In a moment, you’re mine: I promise you, it’ll make you incredibly happy!”
With her back against the inner wall of the elevator, O’Lingya slid the soft, dexterous fingertips of her other hand over both of her protruding nipples, which she stroked and kneaded and couldn’t help but become aroused again. Through widened eyes, she saw the man gazing at her thirstily, like a dog. Great! Perhaps, it was time!
“Want me, lad?” She smiled wryly. “Come let me get a taste of your tongue first.”
The man accepted its teasing without hesitation, and he eagerly swooped down to her feet, his face pressed between her legs, feeling the warmth and dampness …… already of the evening, his face firm with excitement. A twinge of discomfort made her shudder as his hard, straight cock finally impaled her.
“Lover, be gentle.”
Still, Aurinia reveled in every minute of the pleasure, and she loved the man’s somewhat rough caresses. The young man may have thought he knew his way around a woman, but the truth was that he was just a novice. It seemed he hadn’t been taught how to slowly guide a woman to a better place before, and he didn’t have the skills to do so.
Well, he’d have to be a student and go under the specialized tutelage of O’Lingya.
O’Lingya held his hand, guiding it gently and forcefully, teaching it how to arouse her lust.
“Here – yes, here. Stroke here, with your hand, gently, as if you were stroking the petals of a flower. Now, you put your fingers in …… Oh, that’s right! You bite the tip of my nipple again, but …… oh …… so gently …… ah …… oh ……”
Her student was so desperate she was getting a little light-headed, her orgasm had come so suddenly and dissipated so quickly, it was a shame, she had hoped it would last longer. But that was okay, there would be another chance, in another place, with another man. And, with this man in front of her, she wasn’t willing to let him go home before she’d fed herself.
Thinking like this, Ou Lingya again a burst of excitement, lust followed; waves of desire again in the body rolling, raging ……
“Oh …… yes! Come conquer me ……”
She did her best to spread her legs, her back squeezing against the inner walls of the elevator to meet his sliding tongue. The tip of his tongue vaguely rubbed her labia back and forth ……
“Ah, Ginger Jess!”
She grabbed his head as his lids buried deeper and deeper, pressing harder and harder into her pussy; the pleasure kept going. The wet fluid secreted from her body flowed into his mouth. He sucked hungrily, like a ravenous beast ……
Tiredness came to her along with the afterglow of her arousal, and she couldn’t help but slide down her body and lie down on the carpeted floor, her knees spread wide and her attractive lower body revealed in a flash. Her desire for sex had not yet been fully satisfied, and she longed for a second time, or even a third time, who could say how many, for Olenya was an unusual young woman: a woman who had sold her life entirely to lust.
The floor was hard, and O’Linya didn’t feel very comfortable, yet it was full of unstoppable seduction as her hips touched the wood shavings on the floor. Her pussy received a new stimulus as she threw her arms around Ginger Jess – the young elevator attendant.
“Lover, take me, take me now!”
The young man didn’t wait for her to cry out a second time before wrapping his arms around her waist and supporting her until he had her flat on the floor, her shirt waist-high; her bare ass cheeks squeezed heavily on the hard floor, he was by no means a fashionable sex man; but as he laid her down and attacked her “blooming flower”, he was filled with a primitive, feral longing! He was never a fashionable man; but when he laid her down and attacked her “blooming flower”, it was filled with raw wild desire.
Ginger Jace stabbed at her hungrily, moving in and out, and she let out a pleasant moan …… He was attractive, and she was glad to have had him looking forward to it for so long. He wasn’t supposed to last long, but then again, she was dying. Despite the thoughts that had arisen, even the slightest bit of contact left her mesmerized and shaken.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, responding in time to each of his powerful thrusts. Her hips were bruised by the hard floor, but she enjoyed the slight discomfort, which only brought her newfound pleasure.
“I’m going to cum, oh my God!” Ginger Jace whispered. O’Linya felt his cock growing straighter and straighter inside her. With that, a stream of warm, white semen shot into her cunt and O’Lingya climaxed again, grabbing him spasmodically ……
Just as the climax was slowly fading and O’Reilly was considering what they should do next, the lights in the elevator flickered with the sounds of “kaboom” and “ding-dong”.
“The elevator’s fixed, get up!” Ginger Snaps cooed, leaping up in panic to straighten her clothes.
O’Lingya, however, was calm as she stood up from the floor, waved the dust around, put her lifted shirt down, and took her shorts off the elevator door pull and deftly tucked them into her handbag. With great speed, Aurinia tied her blonde hair back into a ponytail again. There was no doubt that she looked decent and generous. Only her reddened cheeks gave away a little secret: that just a few moments ago, in this elevator, a little something had happened between the elevator attendant and this striking English lady.
The elevator was descending towards the first floor and Ginger Jace was getting flustered. O’Lingya gave him a flying kiss towards his genitals, and suddenly and deftly tucked it into his pants and zipped and buttoned them for him, as if he were a child.
“Just stand here and don’t move!” She laughed. “No one will know, lad, if you don’t want them to.”
At that moment, the elevator descended to the ground floor, and with a squeak, the doors opened. Ou Lingya didn’t even look back for a moment, and went to the hotel lounge. The travelers crowded towards the elevator, with vague questions in their minds: how could the burgundy carpet in the elevator be covered with damp white spots? What was that? That was all Ou Lingya left the crowd with. The elevator attendant followed Ou Lingya.
“Ah, my dear young lady! Everything’s all right. I hate to be sorry about the elevator – such a thing has never happened before! Oh, by the way, are you pleased with your room? I picked it out for you myself. You’ll enjoy quite a view of Paris through the window.”
The waiter’s face reddened a little, and Olenya found him amusing; she was buried in her order for a morning paper, and she wondered if she would have pleased him if she hadn’t been a sexy blonde with blue eyes. Would he have smelled the elevator? It was an intriguing thought, and a small smile couldn’t help but sweep across her face. Maybe later ……
“Oh yes, thank you. The room is really nice, it’s just that there’s a bit of a problem with the shower head in the bath, can you have someone fix it as soon as possible?”
“Of course, ma’am. I am deeply sorry for that. Perhaps I can change your room for you as well.”
“No, thanks; there’s no need for that. Now I’d like to go to my room and get some rest. See you later, sir.”
She stood up and stepped into the elevator again, convinced that her swaying hips had caught the lad’s attention again. The sprinklers would be fixed quicker if he was turned on to her too, of that she had no doubt.
Her room number was six-one-eight, on the sixth floor. The view was indeed good,-a row of fashionable villas outside the window, and the Bois d’Or bridge in the distance-but O’Linya had not come to Paris to enjoy the view. She undressed and lay down on her bed, remembering again the problem that haunted her from time to time, and she made an instant decision …… that she would succeed-no matter how much energy it took.
Although she has a foreign name, Aurinia grew up in England. Her father was French and her mother was English. Her mother died when she was very young and she grew up with her father. His father – Oliver was a marvelous banker. In England he was known as a cultivated philanthropist, but then his acumen in financial endeavors was replaced by another unusual skill: for Olliver was also a very charming adventurer, and everywhere he went, he became a sight to behold chased by the noble ladies and lustful women. Oliver was addicted to this game of chase, and he was no longer the banker he had been when he was honored and flattered by the social world.
In the midst of his seemingly successful life, he has a hidden sorrow: it is the neglect of one person – his daughter, O’Lingya.
Oliver was an arrogant young man, confident that he could do anything. When he heard about the mysterious “Big Love Devils” organization, of which no one has ever openly expressed a desire to become a member, he knew he had to become a member at any cost. -No one has ever openly expressed a desire to become a member of the “Big Love Devils” organization – because everything it does is extremely secretive – but its members are said to be some of the most sophisticated and stimulating sexagenarians in the world. They enjoy it so much that they will go through fire if they have to.
As soon as Oliver discovers the mysterious “Big Love Demon” organization, his life changes forever. He then has a new purpose in life, to pursue the mysterious organization no matter what, and to prepare himself to undergo its grueling trials until he becomes one of its members.
He had been searching for ten years, and finally, his dream became a reality. One night, in North Africa, he was met by a man in a tuxedo, who asked Oliver if he still wanted to join the Big Love Demon organization and gave him seven tasks to complete.
The first six missions he accomplished in a big way, the seventh he didn’t. They dumped him at once, and he has been lost to the organization ever since. Because in their organization, second chances don’t exist.
Oliver was never the same, and some say he later died of excessive grief.
One day, young O’Lingya sat next to her father and listened to him talk about his glorious past and how he almost became part of that organization.
“Dad, one day, I’m going to join the ‘Great Love Demon’ organization.” O’Lingya declared loudly. “I’ll be a part of it, and on that day, you’ll be proud of me.”
But Oliver shook his head.
“Son, you are very brave, but you must dispel this foolish notion. No woman has ever joined this organization.”
Aurinnea’s emerald bright eyes widened as she gazed at her father.
“Then I’m going to be the first.” She declared.
So, ten years later, Olenya arrived at this very luxurious Parisian hotel, anticipating the moment she had longed for. Legend had it that the Great Love Demon organization was headquartered in Paris. Maybe after so many attempts she would be lucky enough to find it, maybe this time she would succeed.
“Wait, watch, and listen.” Her father told her this a few weeks before he died, “Be patient, if you are ready, he will call you. Even if you are not summoned, you must wait quietly.”
Much easier said than done, O’Lingya mused. And again, she was not good at waiting; whenever she saw something she wanted, it was up to her to get it immediately, especially if it was about sex. She admired sex, and since men worshipped her, she was able to follow her hobbies solidly, and for the past few years she had acted as an agent for an international businessman, a business deal that provided her with plenty of time for pleasure. She had a sneaking feeling that she might have to accept a challenge “given” to her by an organization. Why, oh why, had they not contacted her? This was her third visit to Paris in as many months, and still no news.
Luckily, she always had work to do. Tomorrow she was taking another position at a small private art gallery, where she had been offered works auctioned off by unknown painters. But what should she do after that?
She touched herself and couldn’t help but think of the handsome elevator attendant and his mesmerizing body. He was attractive, and how she wished he were beside her right now, wished she could see the outline of his mind-blowing muscles and erect genitals in his pants. He was so good sexually, she wanted to bite him again and relive the scene in the elevator ……
Instinctively, she slipped her hand between her legs and relaxed them. Another wave of pleasure washed over her, remembering the joy of the afternoon in the elevator. Her right hand went to her breasts and began to knead her nipples. Her nipples were extremely sensitive, human and full. They needed to be stroked and kissed, and even a light summer breeze caressed them and they perked up.
Ou Lingya put her finger between her labia and rubbed it for a while, and it became wet again inside ……
Her fingers touched the tiny clit again and it became hard and aroused, ready to be caressed. She wondered what it would feel like to rub her pussy, so she slipped a tiny silver ring into the most sensitive part of her pussy. Her friend had done this and told her it felt so good. Oh, it was all still an adventure she’d never had before. Maybe, when she got back to England she could try it.
Immediately, pleasure shot through her entire body and mind, overflowing her entire body. She was breathing heavily, her fingertips instinctively grinding back and forth against her pussy.
How she longed for an endless night, an endless night of love, and if her lover was cruel, she would still beg for his mercy, she was a horse to be “driven” by her master, night and day.
“May I come in? Miss!”
O’Lingya’s eyes snapped open and she turned her head to see a man standing outside the door. A dark and sturdy man, around his mid-thirties, he was trying to get in, holding the door handle with one hand and carrying a canvas tool bag in the other. He was shirtless on such a hot July day, still wearing a pair of blue jeans underneath.
So the man was the sprinkler repairman! She also squinted her eyes and looked at him from head to toe. Well …… nice, firm hips, broad shoulders, muscular arms. He wasn’t too tall, but the bulge in the front of his jeans showed that he was totally a real man. Perhaps her hedonistic pleasure wasn’t over yet.
“Oh, miss, I’m sorry, if you’re resting, I’ll leave-“
“No, no! It’s nothing, come on in. I’ll show you what’s wrong with the sprinklers.”
She slowly got out of bed, confident that the handsome young Frenchman had ample opportunity to feast his eyes on her naked body – one that Bit had never seen before. She wondered how long he had been standing there and if he had seen her amusing herself. She picked up a bathrobe from the chair and casually draped it over her body. But the robe had no belt, and with every step she took forward it fluttered up, showing off the curves of her breasts, her long, bare thighs and her gold and red rolled-trimmed panties.
Ou Lingya smiled slyly at the mechanic, who was swallowing nervously, his hands gripping the toolbox so tightly that his knuckles were hairy. Ou Lingya couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel if his big, strong hands reached for her thighs.
“In here, sir.” She led him into the single bathroom, which was windowless and somewhat dim. As they passed the door to the bathroom, her silk robe-clad ass flew and squeezed against the young man’s jeans-clad front, and she wasn’t mistaken; his thing was hot, hard, and twitching.
But he was a little formal, and she could sense his fear. Oh well, if she wanted him, she’d have to find a way to break the ice.
She slipped through the bathroom door and reached to twist the showerhead, her silk robe then opening to reveal her golden-brown, well-toned breasts, left over from her frequent sunbathing.
She unscrewed the nozzle, but there was nothing.
“Did you see that? There’s no water, the sprinklers are broken, can you do something?”
“I think …… I’ll give it a try.”
He sat down in a crouch, toolbox in hand, and examined the pipes. Aurinia shivered with excitement as she glanced down and saw a head of curly brown hair, tiny tendrils curling around his brown neck. His shoulders were broad and strong, his body well defined. She wanted to touch him, kiss him, caress him ……
Unable to resist the urge, she reached out and gently slid her hand over the back of his head. His skin was burning hot, dry, and full of vigor, like someone returning to a cool night after an unfulfilled day in the sun and beginning to find pleasure.
At her gentle touch, he was startled for a moment and looked up at her suspiciously. O’Lingya smiled, a strange little flame flickering in his dark brown eyes, and she knew he took her meaning.
The repairman lowered his head again, as if nothing had happened, and continued to check the pipes. Olenya fell into frustration. She wanted to tease him, she wanted to yank off his clothes and force him to make love to her. But everything was screwed up. Maybe he was a prude, but she instinctively sensed that this young man knew a lot about the game of making love.
He explained to O’Lingya, “How do you say faucet …… in English? …… ‘clogged’?”
“Yes, clogged, is the faucet clogged?”
“Yes, so you have no water to use.”
“Can you fix it?”
“Maybe it can …… I’ll try it.”
He stood up and moved to the nozzle, O’Lingya gazed at him with desire, his movements were poetic, his muscles strong and powerful, with such a wonderfully firm back he must be irresistibly seductive.
After a moment, he stepped back and held out his arms triumphantly.
“It’s okay!”
“You fixed it! Oh, thank you so much!”
O’Lingya kissed his cheek gratefully as her right hand slid down his body, taking the opportunity to grope his firm buttocks.
The mechanic shook off her touch and reached down to unscrew the nozzle, and hot water jetted down to the floor. It was hot, O’Lingya thought, and a cold shower might be better, especially since she was burning up at the moment. Besides, she did want to take a shower, and it would be a shame to waste all that water.
She briskly removed her bathrobe, which slid to the floor, and the repairman was shaken dumbfounded by her action, both brown eyes wide and round. He was probably more than twenty-five, but looked like a self-consciously guilty middle schooler, as if he was looking at a woman naked for the first time but was afraid of being caught by the principal.
“I have to try it myself.” She explained.
She stepped into the bath and the repairman stood there staring at her motionless, he didn’t know if he should stay or apologize to her and get out of here. He had never seen a woman like her before.
No one guessed it wasn’t a coincidence, and as her hand reached for the nozzle, she shivered with excitement, and she almost thought she didn’t mean to do it. As she expected, the young tinker took the bait.
“Miss!”
He stood behind her, his hands around her waist, and he shivered. She responded to his touch, guiding his hands.
He murmured in her ear and began kissing the back of her head and caressing her golden-brown breasts. They wrapped themselves around each other and walked toward the deep end of the bath, where he reached out and unscrewed the jets to their fullest capacity, and the stream of water showered them all over their bodies like rainfall from a tropical rainforest.
O’Lingya’s back pressed against his chest and she felt him. She turned to face, at him again, rubbing her fingertips against him repeatedly as he reveled in the pleasure …… she was feeling as well.
Her nipples were hard and bulging, and her pussy was producing mucus again, mixing with the stream of water dripping down ……
She moaned eagerly, “Take off your clothes!”
Reluctantly, he released her and stepped out of the bath. Immediately, she was filled with longing again …… She didn’t turn around, she didn’t want to spoil the fun. She turned her face toward the jet of water coming down and closed her eyes, letting it flow over her full face and breasts.
He came over a few seconds later, and he pulled her over eagerly but gently.
“I want you.” He said sharply.
“Give it to me ……”
He peeled back her hips and she expected his thrusts, but he didn’t. A bar of soap slid between her legs and rubbed back and forth skillfully, the sensation making her heart flutter and the flames of desire wrapping around her entire body ……
“Oh yeah! Give it to me, hurry up, give it to me ……”
He stroked her expertly, one hand caressing her breasts, the other reaching into her pussy and grinding just the right amount, bringing her to the peak of her joy again and again.
She climaxed again, her body spasming as a stream of mucus flowed out of her lower body, the soap inside her sliding out with it and landing in the drain.
Exhausted, she dropped against him and moaned. But he still had enough energy left to deal with her, and her passion invigorated him. He entered her again quickly ……
Ou Lingya moaned with pleasure, letting the pleasure spread through every cell of her body, spreading ……
After all, it was a very soul-crushing day.
That night, O’Reillya lay lazily on the forest floor of the hotel, idly watching television. It was full of costume dramas, game shows, and endless meetings, all poorly dubbed in Spanish. French television programming had not improved since her last visit. The elevator man and the repairman had given her some pleasure, but that had been hours ago. Aurinia was bored, and she longed for a man around her.
That’s when a program caught her attention. It was a program about a local kind of magazine. She turned up the volume and listened carefully.
“Tonight, at the Theater de la Tambre, the controversial hypnotist Mel will take the stage, his performance has reverberated through the major cities of Europe, the show starts at eleven o’clock and there are still tickets left, one hundred and fifty francs a piece ……”
That’s for me, thought Aurinia happily. She turned off the television and got up and out of bed, ready to go straight to the Dratanpur Theater.
Chapter II
The Heart Theater in the heart of the city of Montmartre, Della Tambour, has been filled with excited spectators – young gentlemen and their giggling girlfriends; middle-aged couples looking for another life pleasure; even some very aristocratic gentlemen and their friends. Tambour, has been filled with excited spectators – young gentlemen and their giggling girlfriends; middle-aged couples looking for another kind of fun in life; and even some very aristocratic gentlemen and their beautifully dressed, elegant wives. Mel’s hypnotic performances became the talk of the town in Paris.
After paying her one hundred and fifty francs, Olenya walked straight through the foyer to the auditorium. She was glad that her seat was not too far forward; she had heard that these hypnotists could indeed lure the audience onto the stage. In fact, a friend of a friend of hers had once been dragged out of the audience and confusedly admitted to being a chicken. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought and found a comfortable seat to be born in. She was about flanked by a middle-aged woman and a lean young man in a tuxedo that appeared several sizes too big.
The lights dimmed, the curtain opened, and an obese, sweat-slick conductor appeared on stage, telling a series of boring jokes that elicited a nervous laugh. O’Lingya had the deluded feeling of having walked into an English men’s club. But the clownish character continued to provoke the audience, encouraging people to relax. Soon the room was stirring with excitement. Even O’Lingya developed a strong sense of what this great Mel would be like. A veritable genius, or a charlatan?
Finally, the lights in the room dimmed once more, and Mel appeared under a bright white spotlight on the stage. O’Linya was inexplicably excited. Tall, dark and melancholic, Mel knew how to create visual effects for his audience. It was only then that O’Lingya noticed that more than half of the audience were women. They looked as if they had been pinned down by something; perhaps it was Mel’s unique masculinity.
The program began with a performance of pure mesmerism. O’Lingya gradually became distracted. How had she walked into this filth? It was the kind of show that wanted you to just want to be close to your unmarried aunt!
“And now,” Mel announced, “the moment we’ve all been waiting for – audience participation time – is here. My assistant, Anneke, is about to call out some seat numbers in the audience. Anyone in the audience whose seat number is called, please come to the stage.”
No need to be afraid, thought O’Lingya. If someone happens to call my number, I’ll just sit here as if nothing happened and watch the antics of others.
“G Platoon, French 75-millimeter guns,” announced the lovely Anneke – a petite woman with slightly dark skin, ample breasts, and a charming smile.
From the other side of the theater came a roar of laughter. Ou Lingya saw a middle-aged man being pushed to his feet by his family and friends, red-faced but smiling as he lined up the crowd and walked onto the stage.
Mel has a game to play with his audience. He knew what his audience wanted – nasty, scandalous stuff, and most of all embarrassing stuff. They read some magazines and watched his TV interviews. Well, they still had to wait a little while – but he was sure they would think the wait was worth it. By the time the audience entered the theater, he had seen everyone on television and had chosen his targets with extreme care. He wasn’t going to spoil it for the audience.
Mel effortlessly brought the red-faced man into a trance by having him remove his jacket and shirt, turn his hands upside down and make strange grunting noises. The audience boiled over. They were on the edge of their seats. They knew the good part was still to come. Pressing on, others came onto the stage off and on. One young girl giggled her giggles at first, and after Mel hypnotized her and told her she was a bird ghost, she became quiet. As number after number called, O’Linya became increasingly annoyed and she decided to get up and leave the theater.
“Platoon T, Save the Troubled Goddess,” Annik announced in a human voice, holding up a black card with gold lettering in her hand. For a long moment, Olenya didn’t realize that all eyes were focused on her. When she reacted, several hands had pushed her to her feet and walked senselessly toward the stage.
Mel welcomed her with a devilish smile. When their eyes met, O’Linya lost her self-confidence, her legs went limp, and she almost fell into the hypnotist’s arms. Just as she drifted off into a trance, she felt Mel’s hand on her back, delving deep, exploring, admiring. Pressing the hand away, she stood side by side with him on the stage. She mentally recited over and over again that she didn’t want to be hypnotized, that no one should have control over her mind but herself.
“Relax,” a low voice said from somewhere deep inside her brain. “Relax. You know what to do.”
Greatly marvelous! Those few words immediately reached her heart, and O’Lingya felt an irresistible fatigue surge through her body, making her weak and powerless, but not at all afraid. Suddenly aware that the eyes of everyone in the theater were fixed on her, she squeezed out a highly unnatural smile onto the stage and grew smug at being the center of attention.
“Look at me, Olenya. Look into my eyes.” She stood bewildered, surprised that this man knew her name. Out of instinct, she looked up at Mel’s face. Soon, her thoughts were misty and she tried to look away, but couldn’t. It was as if her vision was pinned to her face and her bones became rigid. Mel’s eyes were ordinary, though, brown eyes – eyes she remembered very clearly, that she’d seen them in a portrait in the foyer. But now, those eyes were like roaring green flames.
As she looked straight into Mel’s eyes, a picture formed in her mind. The images were so seductive that soon, she didn’t know where she was.
She saw a naked woman dancing in front of a tall black man whose genitals were clearly erect. There was no difference between the two images; in the mysterious world of Olenya’s brain, she herself was dancing naked for Mr. Meier. This mysterious world quickly disappeared as her mind was completely occupied by the skillful hypnotist. What secrets, dreams, wishes, was he going to transplant them into her brain? She tried to resist, but to no avail – her body wanted to receive them.
A distant voice speaks to the viewer, as if in another world. A few light years fly by.
“And now, Ms. O’Lingya, an audience member is going to entertain you. This beautiful English lady is about to give you the sexiest show you’ve ever seen, and I hope you enjoy it.”
Aurinia felt the man’s voice resonate – irresistible, fluent, sweet and not cloying. Without needing any reason, she knew she was willing to serve this man and become his plaything. She felt her body disintegrate little by little and fly out of the window.
“Take your clothes off for me, O’Reillya. Just for me, let me have it.”
Even though O’Linya knew she was naked in front of hundreds of spectators, she still felt as if she were alone with Mel. Mel’s one-of-a-kind charisma enveloped her tightly as she removed her jacket and unbuttoned her translucent tight top. Then a sea-green shirt slipped off the stage. All that remained of her was a thirties-style unbleached satin panty shirt. She began to hesitate as a chorus of jeers, ragged gasps, and bragging came to her ears.
“Take it off, Olenya, it’s my greatest wish to see you naked. Show your jade body just for me, okay?”
She did as she was told, so naturally, without guilt or fear. It was as clear as a mirror in her mind. She was undressing for Mel, and he wanted to see her completely naked. That he had that right was beyond question.
Wiping the straps off her shoulders, she strips off her sexy lingerie with extreme grace. Thus, removing her stockings and high heels, Olenya stood fully naked on the stage, waiting for her master to give another order. The colored lights flashed across faces that had longing written all over them, dazzling her, and the voices coming from the audience assured her that people were expecting something.
“Sit in the chair, O’Reillya.”
Her legs touched a wooden chair and she felt a chill. She sat down in the chair with her knees together.
“Spread your legs, Olenya, I want you to show me that fascinating part of you that is gentlest and deeper.”
She parted her knees extremely soberly and the crowd stirred once more. O’Linya was calmly showing off the most private and fascinating part of a woman’s body; pink, moist, and surrounded by a ring of folds.
“Spread it out more, Olenya, I can’t see very well. I can’t see the key parts.”
She spread her legs hard.
“Good, very good, now, Olenya. I am going to put something in your hand. I want you to please yourself with it; and if it pleases you, it pleases me.”
He gestured to his blonde assistant and Anneke handed him the handle of a whip made of a hard leather. This thing had caressed and nipped at the flesh of multiple naked beauties during Mel’s late night performances. Of all the women Mel could remember, he preferred the beauty in front of him; she was an excellent target – receptive and provocative. He could feel the lust within her: basic and intense. This blonde, white-skinned beauty who lacked inhibitions, he was glad he had gone with his instincts and chosen this woman as soon as she walked into the foyer. Intuition told him that by utilizing Aurinnea, he would be more able to express his deepest, most intense desires to the fullest.
He placed the handle of the whip in O’Lingya’s hand, she didn’t seem to know what it was, but she stroked it as if she were caressing the body of a loved one.
“This is the tool that brings you joy, Ms. O’Linya. Use it skillfully for better results. Follow the sensations; it is as if my hands are on you, arousing your desires.”
O’Reillya naturally opened her outer labia, as if unfolding a clenched fist to reveal the gold and silver treasure in her hand. Its pink nucleus shone like a priceless pearl.
An intense desire caused O’Lingya to plunge the handle of the whip into her pussy, and from somewhere in the audience, a man moaned in agony.
Carnal desire quickly took over Aurinia’s entire body, but the voice that was guiding her at times was reluctant to let her get off that easily. Before this, Mel had never had high hopes for this whipping handle, but now he wanted it all to continue; for Aurinia to make him famous not only in Paris, but in the Western world.
“You’re about to have an orgasm,” said a low voice. “Put your finger on your pussy and reach down until it’s smooth and hard and deep, yes, a little closer.”
“Yes, oh yes ……”
In a trance like falling into hell, Aurinia grumbled due to her unfulfilled desires… could a few pokes of a finger in her pussy lead to an erotic high? How cold and heartless Mel was! He just wanted to keep him in a state of sexual starvation.
A clear, sweet liquid flowed out of her body, soiling the chair she was sitting on. Her female parts were so well suited that it felt so good when the whip handle went in and out.
“You can stop now,” Mel ordered. Despite the fact that every nerve ending in her body was crying out for the pleasure to continue, she obediently stopped her hand, and she sat passively, waiting for the next command.
Mel pauses and scans the audience. Not bad, not bad. He saw several men who were obliviously playing with themselves, and even a couple making love right there in the theater seats. The woman was sitting on the man’s lap. Great. At this rate, by the time he and Miss O’Linya finished their performance, they would have the entire audience in raptures. He was suddenly grateful to the young lady whose audacious and hot sexual behavior had made him famous.
“Aurinia,” he whispered close to her, “I want to tell you something about you, would you like to hear it?”
“I …… would …… like to hear it.”
Her voice was so bewildered that it seemed as if it did not come from about two of her lips, but from the fairyland of the Taihu.
“Look, O’Lingya, you’re a whore, okay, tell me, what are you?”
“A whore, I’m a whore.”
“That’s right, Olenya. You are a lowly whore who enjoys her profession, and tonight you will be a most busy whore. You are so welcome and do you know why?”
“I …… don’t know.”
“Here, let me tell you. O’Lingya, you are the most popular whore in this brothel because you are willing to do anything – every single thing your customers ask of you, do you understand?”
“I see.”
“Would you be happy to serve guests? I’m sure there are plenty of guests waiting for you.”
“I do.”
“Are you willing to do anything?”
“Willing.”
No longer asking questions, Mel smiled comfortably. The last obstacle had been removed. Now that he knew for certain that Aurinnea had become a full-blown mating animal, she would take any performance that was asked of her. He scanned the audience once more, for there were others with some potential needed for this one program.
Judging by the exuberant expressions on the faces of the men in the room – and some of the women, of course – there would be no shortage of enthusiastic participants. But he wanted his chosen ones to have the talent to use their imaginations.
He stopped his eyes on a man in the third junk in front of him. The man was trying his best to persuade his girlfriends. His pants were off and he was taking his girlfriend’s hand and groping for it between his legs, while both girlfriends were blushing with shyness and trying hard to get their hands free. What a shame – the lad had a lot of courage, and Mel was sure that O’Lingya would love the lad’s stubborn character.
“Which one of you would like to come up on stage and be my partner?”
A couple of people raised their hands; at the same time there was a roar of laughter that came from a couple of friends or coworkers intent on pushing their highly reluctant partner out of his seat. But Mel was only interested in the young man sitting in the second row who had been rejected by his girlfriend. Pulling out all the stops, he finally got the lad’s attention.
When the lad’s eyes turned to Mel, Mel was sure the lad would be up to the task.
Annoyed by the attempted rape of his girlfriend, the lad stood up and walked quickly to the stage. Didn’t even realize to go back to his seat and put his pants back on.
He climbed the steps and Mel greeted him as warmly as if he had been reunited with his missing son, and took the opportunity to stare into the young man’s eyes and lose some erotic suggestions into his subconscious.
“What’s your name?”
“Well …… Juston. Juston.”
“Well, tell me, Juston, do you often get turned on by erotic fantasies?”
“I …… do.”
“Tell me, what are you going to do with the beautiful Ms. O’Linya?”
Juston hesitated for a moment, but due to the efficacy of hypnosis and the frustration of a thwarted plea for sex, he glanced back at his girlfriend meaningfully and replied, “I want her to satisfy me with her mouth.” The young man was shaking and shaking, but it wasn’t hard to see that it was out of excitement. Behind him, from the audience, came words of encouragement.
Mel turned his attention back to his proudest guest.
“Look, Oleander – this is your first guest. He wants you to please him with your mouth. Do as he says. It is your greatest wish to make him high with, and it will give you pleasure to do so. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
The thought of what it would be like to put the lad’s genitals in her mouth aroused Olenya. She moved her knees and began to kiss Juston’s exposed body. She had been delirious for a long time, just an instinct guiding her mouth and hands. She slipped her hand into the open zipper of Juston’s pants to touch his balls. The testicles were round and weighty, and they tensed as she weighed them delicately in the palm of her hand and stroked them.
She opened her lips and filled her mouth with the youkai, sucking and savoring it slowly. A salty taste of the liquid stimulated her tongue, and she simply pressed her tongue against the root of the man who wanted to add to the swelling, using her mouth to enjoy the same pleasure and excitement of possessing a man.
She sucked with relish, for Juston’s pleasure was her pleasure. His balls swelled and stiffened even more in her mouth as they filled with cum, and O’Lingya felt her own pleasure spreading and expanding throughout her body as well, with a rush of heat in her belly that traveled right down to her hardened pussy core. Finally Juston let out a moan of submission to her and O’Lingya burst into tears of excitement. Her first erotic climax caused her pussy to tighten as Juston shot a stream of white cum down her throat.
All the audience clapped and cheered – except for Juston’s girlfriend who looked at the stage in disbelief.
On stage, Ou Lingya always kneels passively, like a sincere penitent who willingly endures many, many more ascetic lives than one can imagine.
Mel’s other “guests” did not disappoint. The second guest – a German man with a wrinkled face and dueling scars – offered to beat Olenya with the handle of a whip. Olenya knelt before him, and he spanked her back and half of her buttocks until they were red. Yet, with each stroke, she felt an indescribable rush of pleasure.
The third guest asked Ou Lingya to spread her legs again and ride him as if he were her mount; Ou Lingya also wished to take advantage of her excitement and scream it all over again without a care in the world. As Mel watched them, he suddenly grew envious and irritated: Aurinia was his invention, his creation, and why should anyone else come and enjoy his fruits? The thought burned through him, like tongues of fire licking at him.
He was going to possess her. She must ……
“Lower your hands and keep your knees together, Olenya. Let me have you alone, okay?”
“Good. Take it away from me.”
As Mel had instructed, Aurinia lowered her hands and folded her legs together. In her conscious mind, she was a she-wolf in heat, waiting for her companion to take her. Two people having sex together was much more fun than one person pleasuring herself.
Mel eagerly yanked open the button on his pants and pulled out a pair of absolutely stunning yummies – seven inches long and very round testicles. The audience went wild. The ladies sobbed and screamed, begging Mel to give them a chance to do whatever he liked with him. But Mel only had eyes for Olenya.
He entered her quickly and smoothly. O’Reillya felt like she was pressed up against a wolfhound, his cock hard and rough inside her. She squirmed and tried to turn over, but she couldn’t move because of the unspeakable pain. She didn’t want to move, she wanted to live in a dream world forever, to make love to someone without waking up.
Mel rode O’Linya with ease, sending a thousand agitations into her brain with his devilishly attractive dark eyes; he cheated joy from her, and she responded harmoniously, like a violin in close concert with a masterful player.
With a mesmerizing moan, Olenya finally conceded to pleasure. She straightened her back and accepted the boiling life-giving liquid that Mel shot out. As the orgasm tapered off, she went limp on the stage, panting and sweating profusely. And the curtain descended.
She forgot about the audience, about the atmosphere in the auditorium and in the door listening to the gradual climax of excitement. The guests were like a group of slaves encouraged by their masters, completely immersed in sound and color.
Of course, she also ignored the three angry figures in gray raincoats who were making their way to the stage with great fervor.
“Mr. Mayer.”
Mel staggered to his feet, tucked his still-tight manhood into his pants and buttoned them up.
“Well, what is it ……”
“The gendarmerie.”
There was a commotion in the crowd. A man wearing an old blanket hat and holding a gendarmerie warrant spoke up, “I think we’ve seen enough of your so-called show, Mr. Mayer. You’d better come with us to the gendarmerie.” He glanced toward O’Lingya again, “We’re going to take this young lady in for some questions as well.”
O’Lingya was scared out of her wits as she looked at the two uniformed gendarmes who appeared out of nowhere. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders to cover her naked body. The two gendarmes were obviously unable to resist Ou Lingya’s charms, and they took advantage of the search to grope their way up Ou Lingya’s body right in plain sight – a little late, Ou Lingya thought, a kind of contempt for them rippling through her mind.
Doing her best to shake off their pleasurable groping touches, she angrily turned her face toward the older gendarme, “Have you completed your search for me, sir?”
The gendarme’s face turned red and he pretended to cough.
“Shut up! Damn it.” He ordered gruffly. All the while putting on a dignified face to hide his embarrassment. “Take it away!”
What happened after that, O’Lingya remembered clearly. She was handcuffed and sat in the back of the black prison van with Mel – and her first thought was that the man was not alarmed by what was happening in front of him. His smug smile made her think that he was capable of salvaging the situation. After all, he hadn’t fallen into disrepute yet.
Arriving at the station, they were publicly humiliated, and then each was taken to a single room to await their interrogation and training. As Mel was taken away, he turned and gave O’Lingya a soulful smile, “This is a supreme honor, Miss. If you start your career in a professional theater ……”
O’Lingya sat in her single room, looking dejectedly at the empty four walls. What was happening now was unexpected and she had decided to leave Paris. She had planned to spend a quiet evening at the theater, but now she was sitting here and being molested in public – maybe even thrown in jail. She had long heard of some of the heart-stopping things that went on in French prisons. She wondered if there might be a silver lining in seducing the Ombudsman. But the thought was as sudden as it came, and was soon dispelled. There was nothing her flesh could do to free herself. All she could do was wait for the trial.
The next morning she was taken to court and stood before the judge. She wondered where Merle was – and soon realized that he, of course, had bought and gotten away with it. Even the litany of laws had no effect on him. Olenya hated to kick herself a few times for her lack of foresight about the benefits of the age-old bribery tactic.
The judge was a withered, dry, flat man who made no secret of his displeasure at a young woman stepping onto the bench. Of course, O’Linya didn’t get a chance to go back to the hotel to change into a decent outfit. She was still wearing the same stained and wrinkled jacket and miniskirt that she had worn last night. How sexy and glamorous she looked last night; and in the cold light of this morning, she looked like a lowly whore.
She made an extremely flirtatious smile at the judge. But she clearly saw that he was indifferent. The judge stared at Olenya through his thick lenses for a moment and handed down a sentence of five days’ imprisonment. O’Leary was dismayed but not surprised to hear it.
Everything was expected. Just as she was leaving the judgement huddle, on a whim, she turned and threw a long kiss at the judge.
The judge’s jaw dropped; he retracted his earlier sentence, “To aggravate your punishment, young lady. I’m going to sentence you to a month’s imprisonment instead of five days.”
O’Lingya lay depressed on the low pine bench. That was her bed. Prison life was like this, boring and lacking in interest. Many times, she dreamed of the Great Love Demon Organization.
She remembered the way the female guards had looked at her as she was led through the heavy two doors into the prison. One of the female guards – an Algerian with a head full of curly, straw-like hair and a smile at the corner of her mouth – ran her eyes over her body.
“Come here,” the female guard shouted gruffly. “Take off your clothes!”
Oulingya then reluctantly took off her jacket and skirt and shivered in a panty shirt, feeling humiliated and angry. She raised her head and looked at the female guard, pleading for mercy. The female guard, however, rejected her with a merciless stare.
Sighing softly, Ou Lingya took off her pantsuit shirt, and her white-as-grease breasts and thighs asking for her hidden parts were suddenly exposed. The female guards unabashedly and greedily admired her body.
“Go there.” The female guard said, pointing to a door at the back of the room. O’Lingya walked through that door and into a tiled bathroom with a row of showerheads, but no curtains, no barriers, in short, no shelter. Perhaps that was what they were trying to do; they wanted Olenya to make a fool of herself. She couldn’t help but grumble about her fate while thinking about what Mel was doing tonight.
The female guard handed him a bar of soap and a brush, pushed her under one of the shower heads and turned on the faucet. She couldn’t help but shiver: wow! It was cold water, icy cold. The water sprayed on her body like thousands of slender, sharp needles, sticking into her delicate antipodes. She tried to jump away from the faucet, but the guardess pushed her under the nozzle again.
The hands gripped her like iron jaws, clipping her hands behind her back so she couldn’t move. Water cascaded over her face and nipples.
“We’ve heard about your fling.”
“If you’re so fond of catching wind and enjoying it, why don’t you try to prove whether you’re still useful by learning from us?”
“Be sensible, young lady. You’re in our custody now.”
A wild laughter surrounded her; was it the sound of two or three men? It was as if a million hands were groping her body and fingers were searching for the most hidden parts of her body.
She opened her mouth to bite at the back of a soft hand, and immediately an irritated, mixed French and Arabic voice shook her eardrums. She received a heavy slap across her face and was then pushed aside and slammed against the bathroom wall. The smooth tiled wall had no place to grab onto, and her body slowly slid down, finally falling to the floor.
Those hands were on her again, groping around in an extremely unsettling manner.
“Stop! You will stop this at once.”
O’Lingya shook her dizzy head and saw in her blurred vision a tall, broad-shouldered figure, standing by the door.
The female guards quickly moved away from her; slipping away from the Acting Chief Steward like a group of frightened johns.
Without a word, Mr. Davaro approached the bathroom and turned off the faucet. O’Lingya barely struggled to his feet. The acting chief steward handed him a piece of hand.
“Dry yourself off, young lady. While you are a prisoner here, we are not savages. I promise you will not be subjected to that kind of indignity again.”
O’Lingya smiled gratefully at Mr. Davaro, catching a glint of greed in his eyes. Well, good, she thought, he’ll be a favorable ally.
There were only two people left in the bathroom; Olingya and Davaro. She reached out and closed the door to the room, ensuring safety and privacy. Then, with extreme grace, she lifted the bath towel, and it fluttered down to the tiled floor with a rustling sound.
“Miss you ……?”
She placed a finger on his lips as an answer to his quizzical look. Pressing on, she placed her hand on the front of the navy blue pants he was wearing and smiled as she touched the area wrapped around his swollen testicles. His whole body tensed as she unzipped the zipper on his pants, followed by a heavy sigh overflowing with pleasure. For Olenya had freed his entire body of tense muscles from their prison and aroused his full desire.
She knelt before him and took his cock into her mouth to show her deep appreciation for him.
The next morning, O’Lingya was reading an old middle grade novel when she heard the key rattle and the door to the isolation room opened.
“Oleander, get up and freshen yourself up.”
O’Lingya was taken aback. A visitor? No one knew she was in Paris and locked up in a jail cell except for Kris, who worked at the art museum. Her mind raced, wondering if it could be that Mel had come out of prison with a great deal of mercy and was planning to bail her out of this hellhole. No way, why would he save a woman he had temporarily borrowed – not to mention that at the time it was only to please his audience to get himself in trouble?
With puzzlement, she followed the female guard through the shadowy corridor toward the parlor. Two inmates were scrubbing the floor, and as she passed them she noticed that they exchanged furtive glances and whispered and ate and laughed. Did they know about her fornication with Davaro in the bathroom?
The female guard brought Ou Lingya into the meeting room, turned around and took the door of the room with her and went out. She was going to wait outside for Ou Lingya to talk to the visitor.
A blonde, white-skinned young man was seated at a long table in the middle of the reception room. Olenya did not recognize him. He greeted her with a smile.
“Hello Ms. Olingya.” He kissed its hand.
“Sir are you ……?”
“Dinvalen.” He sat down and gestured to the other chair, “You don’t have to know my real name, you can call me Dinvalen.”
“Why are you here? I don’t recognize you.”
“Yes, Oleander, you don’t know me. But I know you.” He paused, “We both know you.”
“You guys?”
“Yes, the ‘Great Love Devil’ organization.”
O’Lingya felt a moment of bewilderment – was it excitement or horror, or both? Finally, she had found the Great Love Demon Organization – but here, at a time when she had offended social mores and was being sent to jail. All in all, such a meeting was incredible.
“I can tell you’re your father’s own daughter,” he said, watching her closely. “Unfortunately, he lost the final duel. But you must understand that the ‘Great Love Demon’ organization has its own discipline that no one is allowed to break. We have been watching your every move, O’Lingya. We are very pleased with what you have done.”
“But that means ……”
“Yes, Oulingya, prepare yourself for the test of the ‘Great Love Demon’ organization!”
Chapter III
“Couldn’t you remove the blindfold from my face?”
O’Lingya tugged hard at the black silk scarf that covered her eyes, but the large, strong hands wrenched her fingers away, so decisively and so gently.
“Be patient, Olenya. I will remove it as soon as we arrive.” Dinvalen assured her, “But if you don’t sit still, I’ll have to tie your hands as well – not that I’m much inclined to make it difficult, of course.”
“You must understand, my lady, that you are now going to the belly of the organization, a mysterious place known only to highly skilled and respected members of the organization. It is your crowning glory to go there. Remember: to be successful, you must be absolutely obedient to the discipline and demands of the organization.”
Aurinia stopped struggling and leaned back against the soft leather back of the chair. Dinvalen had effortlessly bailed her out of prison, but she wondered if she would prefer another form of imprisonment. Though she had dreamed for years of being a member of the Daimons, she had never imagined this would be the case.
As the long black sedan drove through the streets of Paris, Olenya sat quietly between Dinvalen and a masked man who had met them at the prison gates. What puzzled her was that she was completely under their control and they had not the slightest intention of touching her. She was disheartened; after all, she had imagined that the members of the “Big Love Demon” organization were risk-taking, fierce, yet compassionate and sentimental.
After what seemed like hours, the limousine made a sudden, sharp right turn and Ou Lingya collapsed on top of Dinvalen. Dinvalen held her tightly to prevent her from falling over. The hands on her bare arms were so warm and dry that she couldn’t help wishing the contact would continue; she wanted to draw heat from his strong body to chase away the fear. Pressing on, she heard the squeak of wheels rolling over the gravel road. It must have been on the drive to an ornate villa or through a public parking lot.
A few minutes later, the limousine stopped and Dingwallen took O’Lingya’s arm and helped him out of the car. They walked together into the sultry summer afternoon of Paris. After walking across a graveled pavement and up a few steps, they stopped. She suspected that Dinwallen had answered the doorbell, for she heard a faint “ding ding ding ding” followed by the sound of disorganized footsteps coming slowly down the corridor toward them. She felt suddenly hungry and thirsty.
The door creaked open, accompanied by the rattle of the chain lock.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen.”
The voice was so mechanical and lifeless that it was impossible to judge the person’s appearance or character. For a moment, tense and confused, Aurinya snuggled closer to Dinvalen, who became the only signpost in her dark, mundane world.
Dingvalen crossed a threshold with a certain Olingya’s arm. A wave of cool air came to the face. The scent of jasmine and celandine filled the air, and from somewhere faintly came the strains of a clock, and O’Lingya could even hear the rattle of a fountain spraying water. She stumbled forward, her sandal-clad feet making strings of crisp thuds on the smooth, hard floor. When she heard the door click shut behind her, she was terrified, her heart contracting violently. Dinvalen touched her arm, and her fears were allayed. She knew he must have sensed her trembling and had come to stabilize her. What would he think if she screamed out in terror?
“We are here at last, Olenya, and I’m sure you’ll understand our disrespect, for blindfolding is a handicap that must be fulfilled.” He removed the silk scarf covering her eyes. She blinked uncomfortably at the sudden sight of bright light. “Now the game will begin.”
It took a long time before O’Lingya adjusted to the sunlight coming in through the window. She rubbed her eyes and surveyed her surroundings, realizing that she stood in the center of an empty hall. Several long columns towered straight up from the gleaming marble floor into the gilded, rounded ceiling, carved with designs of naked forest gods and nymphs obliviously entwined.
Looking around the hall, O’Lingya looked over her shoulder and saw two uniformed manservants, wearing a red velvet jacket on top, buckskin pants underneath, and wearing wig covers, and was shocked when they came toward her, their faces hidden behind red leather masks, looking like eighteenth-century men – stodgy and grotesque.
Aurinia gave Valen a nervous glance. “What’s going on here?”
“Are you scared?”
“Sure.”
Dingwallen laughed.
“It is quite normal to be nervous.” He gestured at the two manservants who were slowly making their way towards them, “These two gentlemen are going to take you to meet a human figure of the Great Love Demon Organization, O’Lingya, now that the time is up, you go with them.”
In the center of the hall was a spacious, beautifully carved wooden stairwell that resembled old Hollywood decorations, and on the four walls of the staircase hung rows of framed sketches and lacquer paintings, and O’Reilly wondered if every painting she saw was pornographic in a way that she had never seen before: grotesque nudes, charcoal pencil sketches, and heavy watercolors. The owner of this house must be a first-rate collector of famous paintings, and perhaps one of the people she had dealt with many times was an internationally renowned painter. She suddenly realized if she was under the watchful eye of the monitors, and how much did the Great Love Demon Organization know about her?
Two uniformed manservants led her up the stairs towards the second floor where the door was paneled, they knocked on the door and pushed it open to enter, O’Lingya felt a surge of inexplicable excitement that this was finally happening! After how many years of anticipation, how many times she had dreamed, she would finally be able to step into the belly of the organization, her father would be so proud of her.
The manservant stood with his hands down and bowed respectfully as O’Lingya stepped forward into the room and into the darkness.
The door closed quickly behind her, and the room was pitch black. At first, Ou Lingya couldn’t see anything, gradually her eyes began to adapt to the darkness, but vaguely she could only see a bed in the middle of the room. She stared intently and still couldn’t see it, and after the door behind her closed, the last trace of light disappeared. She was left alone, standing in the darkened room.
“Welcome, Oleander, it is an honor to have you here. Tell me – do you think coming to the organization was worth it?”
The voice was so familiar, but she couldn’t remember who it was no matter what, and she tried her best to calm herself down, warning herself again and again that she was no longer a timid little girl, but Ou Lingya.
“I think it’s worth it, sir.” She replied. Pausing for a moment to press on, “My father would think so too.”
The strange man let out a dry laugh.
“Your candor is convincing, Ms. O’Linya. Your father has tried everything to get into the organization, and he had his chance, unfortunately losing out in the final duel. He was a very good candidate, but not the best, so why is it that a young girl like you stands where your father failed with such confidence?”
“Because I never doubt my abilities, sir. Never doubted.”
“I understand. However, you must show me your talents, my haughty lady. Many have tried, yet all have failed, and no woman has ever even managed to penetrate the inner workings of the Great Love Demon Organization.”
“I will not fail.”
“Oh,” there was a hint of teasing in his tone. “I can see you’re the real O’Lingya, the girl who engages in rugby-style sex games in her boyfriend’s dorm room.”
Ou Lingya felt very embarrassed.
“It was a hundred boring Sunday afternoons. There was really nothing to do. How did you know?”
“You’re also the girl who seduced her physics teacher because that teacher threatened to expel you from school.”
Ou Lingya’s eyes widened in disbelief. How did this stranger know all these things? She couldn’t help but think back to that day a long, long time ago – which now seemed like a lifetime ago – when Dr. Atherton had discovered her “inappropriate behavior” and threatened to expel her from school. threatened to expel her from school.
Limehurst College was a boarding school that advocated liberalism, yet Dr. Gillian B. However, Dr. Gillian Atherton is opposed to liberalism in all its forms and at all times. As a result, the ethical physics teacher was shocked to find Olenya in bed in her dormitory one afternoon with two boys – not one – from a nearby public school. He had inadvertently pushed open a hidden door to the dormitory of a senior student, only to see one boy licking Olingya’s nipples with the tip of his tongue, while the other admired them with relish. Atherton Botu could not believe what he was seeing.
“How can you be so depraved?” Atherton lashed out, slamming the door behind him. His fury seemed to shake the house. The two boys slipped out of bed nimbly, trying their best to hide their embarrassment. Olenya, however, returned Atherton’s furious gaze with an extremely flirtatious smile, expressing her displeasure at being threatened and intimidated by this unreasonable advocate of chastity.
It was also on that afternoon that Ou Lingya began her revenge scheme to ……
Dr. Atherton grabbed O’Lingya’s shirt and yanked her by the arm with his other hand and crossed the hallway to his office. O’Lingya was still naked.
“I shall punish you severely, mademoiselle,” he threatened her maliciously. “And then let’s see what Mrs. Tervos has to say about this sordid, convoluted behavior.”
But once the door to the room was closed, it wasn’t O’Lingya who was disposed of, it was Mr. Atherton.
“Put your clothes back on at once, Oleander. Retain a modicum of shame; are you trying to challenge the morality of etiquette by being so unclothed?” Dr. Atherton tossed the clothes into O’Lingya’s arms, his gaze gradually softening.
O’Lingya was unresponsive and ruined the fling by putting on her clothes. She was going to make this hypocrite suffer a little with her naked body. She could see that he was trying desperately to avoid looking at her, so she felt more confident and took a step closer to him, pressing her naked body against his. He tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. She squeezed him tightly against the wall of his own office.
“What the …… hell do you want?”
From his voice, O’Lingya heard the message that she was bound to win.
“You’re excited, aren’t you? Sir.”
“I …… don’t know what you’re talking about! Get your hands off me.”
“You enjoy watching me make love to Pete and Antonio, don’t you, sir?” She pouted delicately and dug her fingers into his tousled gray hair. He was actually quite good looking. “I wonder how long you watched us before you decided to break into the dormitory and create that scene of caught adultery? It was fun, wasn’t it?”
She pulled her fingers back from his hair and unzipped the front of his pants, her boyfriend Alex loved it when she did that.
“Don’t be afraid, sir, I’m just trying to teach you a lesson.” She slipped her hand through the zipper opening and fumbled. He was too tall to embrace her.
He shuddered, “No, no, no!” But every fiber of his being screamed with excitement, “Great!” Olenya paid no attention to his futile resistance, she knew what he really needed. She needed it herself. Having her fling with the two boys disrupted by Atherton, she still longed in her heart for sex with someone.
She groped at him for a while and led him through the office to a gilded piano. The piano was used by music teachers for composing. Atherton stopped resisting, a puzzled light in his eyes. Olenya wouldn’t let him be confused for long – she would soon show him exactly what she needed to do on the ground. She jumped nimbly onto the piano and lay down on the lid.
“There’s enough room for two,” she gasped, crossing her legs and touching her fingertips between them, “Don’t you want me, sir?”
“What – no – I can’t!”
“But sir – the whole school knows that you had sex with Tina, Brett, at the beginning of the semester! Why don’t you want to be with me?”
“That’s bullshit – I don’t even ……”
Oulingya propped up her upper body on one elbow. Her plump breasts were full of temptation and her nipples were full of passion.
“But Mr.-Jocasta. Lange saw you and her in the gym locker room with his own eyes, last Wednesday night, how could you forget!” She guffawed. “Let’s forget about that, okay? Why don’t you come over here and make love to me, sir? You know, you’re good-looking – I’m tired of waiting.”
The fully nude, bold and spirited Ou Lingya was a stark contrast to the hypocritical Dr. Atherton. Finally, he defiantly took off his shirt and pants and climbed on top of Au Lingya.
……
Yes, they composed a beautiful, beautiful tune together that afternoon.
As the memories returned to reality, she stared into the darkness, puzzled and apprehensive.
“Who are you? How do you know so much about me?”
There was no answer, and as a switch rattled, a small lamp illuminated the bed and cast a bright golden glow in the darkness. On the bed sat an older man, wearing a silk Japanese kimono. O’Lingya breathed out.
“Do you remember who I am now, O’Reillya?”
The judge! Was he the old, thin man who had treated her with disdain in the courtroom? Very different: now he sits here with a gaze that burns not with puritanical revolutionary fervor, but with undisguised greed.
“If you wish to be tested, first you must prove your ability: prove it to me. Make me happy, Olenya. Amuse me for as long as it takes – but you must understand that once you fail, you will never be able to set foot in these gates again, for there will be no second chances.”
“What do you expect me to do, sir?”
“I want you to use your imagination to the fullest, young lady. Find the key that will make me happy. You’ll find it an interesting challenge.”
O’Lingya knew it was a test for her. And something she had longed for. When she was a dreamy schoolgirl, she had found exploring her lover’s body a total pleasure.
She took off her thin pullover and skirt with slow, extremely incendiary movements. Because of the heat, only a pair of narrow panties were worn underneath. She hated to be glad that she had finally convinced Dinvalen to let her change into a different set of clothes.
Her bare breasts clearly garnered the older judge’s approval. Yet O’Linya also clearly saw that his body under the silk kimono showed no sign of desire. She removed her panties, walked over to the bed, leaned down, and rubbed her skin against his lids, letting him know the texture of her body’s skin and the smell of French perfume that emanated from her body.
If Aurinia had secretly hoped that the judge would be weak-willed and give in to her, now she was going to look the other way. He allowed her to remove the kimono from her body, then lay on all fours on the bed, not reacting in the slightest to Aurinia’s fiddling.
Olenya looked down at him, hoping to get a hint of encouragement from his body, yet no matter how much she stroked him, the judge remained listless and unresponsive.
She knelt on the bed, her body pressed against his, and licked every part of his body with her tongue, and he remained silent. O’Lingya was shocked at how many men she had attracted over the years with this �style�! Legend had it that the discipline of the organization was to never tolerate weakness. It was her duty to break that discipline, to overcome it with skillful and hot lustful techniques.
Ou Lingya made every effort to awaken the old man’s desire. She was sure she would turn him on. However, his will was so strong. With a firm belief in the organization’s reverence and absolute obedience to its discipline, the judge will surely triumph over Olenya’s mastery.
As the shadow of defeat was about to loom over O’Lingya’s face, she suddenly saw a knotted belt lying loose on the bed, and with a sudden plan, she opened the knot. The belt was moderately weighted and smooth, and she was high with it.
The Judge’s body jerked at the first swat of O’Lingya’s belt, and then became submissive. So she soon found a key to unlock the door to his pleasure. She simply whipped his abdomen with a silk ribbon, not hard, while the spiky tassel on one end of the ribbon ran between his legs and touched his balls. Finally, he couldn’t help but begin to moan softly, and Olenya knew that victory was clear.
“Admit defeat, sir. Don’t cross yourself with your desires.”
She climbed on top of him and rode him like a stallion. Her legs pressed tightly against the sides of his abdomen. To O’Lingya’s surprise, he remained silent. She looked down at his face and saw the half-smile hanging on his lips: he might have acquiesced to the way Ou Lingya dealt with him, but wasn’t going to give in to Ou Lingya yet.
The Judge’s resistance to O’Reillya fueled her determination to defeat him. How much longer could he hold out, and some little strategy should be used to break through his last line of defense.
A thought suddenly flashed through her, and she picked up the ribbon once more and tied a series of knots.
This spanking was no joke, and she whipped the strap hard. Each stroke that landed on the Judge was like being stung hard by a bumblebee. He began to react, his body writhing in agony on the bed.
One at a time she whipped the judge’s body. Starting only on his stomach, then moving downward, hitting him at the base of his thighs. When she whipped his testicles nine times, he let out a scream – like a long, agonizing cry from a severely tortured man on his deathbed. But there was a hint of arousal mixed in with his scream.
Then, Ou Lingya extremely skillfully slipped her fingers with pointed nails between his legs and touched the sensitive parts on both sides of the ninth side of his testicles. His body trembled violently. Ou Lingya pinched his scrotum with her fingernails again with the joy of victory, and this time, his cries were filled with intoxication and excitement.
O’Lingya bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“I told you I would not fail, sir. Olingya will never go back on her word.”
The judge opened his eyes and looked in the direction of there sitting chair, “Personally, I can’t decide if you succeeded or failed, Ms. O’Linya.” He replied.
“What do you mean? You tell me ……” The Judge reached over to the side table table and screwed on another lamp. At once the room was so brightly lit that even some of the shadowy corners were visible.
O’Lingya scanned the room in alarm. To her amazement, she realized that the elaborately carved chairs around the room were filled with masked figures. She turned her face to the judge, “They’ve been watching us when we ……?”
“Yes, baby. That’s for sure. How about letting them decide if you can pass the test?”
“Well, it’s okay. I just want to know – who are they?”
“Oh, they are some of the senior members of the Greater Love Devil Organization. They wear masks so that no one outside the organization can see their faces. They are all very influential people – among them are cabinet ministers, movie stars, Nobel Prize-winning scientists; they have dedicated their lives to the organization. Would you still like to join the Organization, my dear?”
“Of course I will. Do you still doubt my loyalty? As a child, I vowed to be the first woman to enter the organization. At any cost, I’m going to achieve my goal, sir.”
“Her spirit is admirable.” One of the watchers said as he stood up. The front zipper of his pants was open, and Olenya thought he must have been thrilled as he watched her and the Judge perform. He stood straight, tall, fit and attractive. “But I must admit that I remain skeptical that she has the necessary potential to become a member of the organization.”
“Does she have the necessary patience?” A man next to her interjected. “Have courage? Those are qualities that must be present.”
“She’ll also have to prove her sexual prowess,” added the other, who likewise left the front of his pants unzipped, and who looked at O’Linya as if she were a piece of delicious, fresh meat imported from abroad.
She got out of bed and walked confidently toward the group of men. She would not fail now that she had gotten this far. She knelt down and put the testicles of the first man who spoke into her mouth, immediately feeling her strength multiply and the doubts in her head dissipate. Soon, O’Lingya was going to be a part of the Great Love Demon Organization.
“Do you know what you’re going to do in the days to come, Oleander?”
“Know.”
She stood in the foyer of the St. Desmond Inn with Dingwallen, her mind whirling. She could hardly believe what had happened to her a few hours ago. It was like a dream, and when she woke up the dream was gone. Now she was back at the inn, and Dingwallen was here, right beside her. She was still sweat-slick and smelled of perfume.
The honor had cheered her up, and made her want to indulge in the sex even more: to be a pure mating animal. She had already convinced the judges who were there, but now she still had work to do. In any case, she also wanted a chance to prove herself and to use it as the beginning of the process of honing her will. She also wanted to take this opportunity to celebrate.
She slipped her fingers into Dingwallen’s blonde curls.
“Do you want ……?”
Dinvalen smiled and shook his head, “I don’t think you truly understand yet, Olingya. You must build up your strength to be tested. It would be very grueling and take a lot of energy.”
O’Lingya burst out laughing.
“Oh, Dinvalen, after what I’ve been through today, I’m no longer worried that the organization will abandon me.”
Dinvalen patted her hand.
“You are a very brave young woman, O’Lingya, but be sure to keep your wits about you and not forget the lessons of your father’s failures. Remember what I told you: in the coming days you will be tested seven times. You must pass them all. For the Great Love Demon Organization never gives second chances.”
Ou Ling Miscellaneous nodded, “How do I know when each test has begun?”
“Every morning at nine o’clock, a messenger will come to your hotel room. He will tell you what mission you are to perform that day. Good luck, O’Lingya! Perhaps one day we will meet again.” With great regret, Ou Lingya watched the tall, athletic Dinvalen walk out of the hotel foyer, through two doors, and into the bustling street. How regrettable. They had gotten along so well together. But soon his warning was thrown out the window and she even forgot about it. She had begun to have unnatural sexual appetites again – a change that she herself, of course, was unable to detect: she was unwilling to spend any night alone.
Wandering around the reception counter, she found a very clean looking clerk. She plopped down on the desk and teased him with a smile at her while leaving the top of her baggy pullover casually open.
“Hello,” she greeted, “I wanted to ask …… what time do you get off work?”
“Eight o’clock, ma’am. Just ……”
She wrote her room number on the back of a piece of paper and pushed it in front of him.
“Nine o’clock,” she whispered, “I’ll wait for you.”
chap
Ou Lingya yawned as she lay on the luxuriously soft double bed. What a wonderful night it had been! Sadly young Arnold had to leave on time for his morning shift. But she was still in the throes of spring.
She rubbed under the covers for a moment, reliving a scene from last night. What a wonderful tongue young Arnold had! He was not very sophisticated, it was true; but he was certainly a vigorous and gifted student. He sucked greedily at her nectar as if he were savoring a rare and delicious wine. Her hands subconsciously slid to her nipples, which became large and bulging. Maybe she’d just have to amuse herself until she had a shower and breakfast.
A heavy knock on the door reached her eardrums. Oh, oh! It was the messenger! How could she have forgotten him?
O’Lingya slid out of bed, threw on a robe, and hurried to the door.
To her surprise, standing there was not the messenger, but the manager of the hotel, Constant. Mr. Philao. He said awkwardly.
“Is that Ms. O’Lingya?”
“Yes.”
“I …… am so sorry. May I come in?”
“Of course.” O’Lingya stepped back to let him in, then closed the door behind him. “Now, what did you want to see me about?”
“Travelers on the floor below were clamoring about noise coming from this room last night, saying they thought they heard quarreling …… and …… um …… and moaning.”
Of course, thought Olenya. I know I should keep my voice down, but Arnold is so hyper. She smiled flirtatiously at Mr. Philao. There was no way he was going to evict her from the hotel on such an auspicious morning.
“I’m sorry, sir.” She said sharply, “I had a guest last night and we had a little …… you understand, don’t you? It won’t happen again.”
By now, she was walking toward the hotel manager. They were close enough that she heard his short, soft breaths. Her hand touched his groin, seemingly unintentionally, but Olenya knew her intentions. His slight shuddering drummed into her, and she resumed her probing.
She glanced at the table by the wall, the clock on it telling her it was only seven-thirty; she had plenty of time, didn’t she?
“I’m sorry, miss, I’m responsible, but I can’t let the other travelers be disturbed either.” Firau’s voice trembled a little, and O’Lingya knew he was doing his best to control himself and not lose his temper in front of her.
“No need to mention it, sir.” O’Lingya’s eyes lowered mockingly. “Indeed, I should be punished.” She looked up again at the unfortunate manager-who was flushed and nearly broken-and she very calmly touched the front of his pants. He was stunned for a moment, but did not remove her hand.
“I don’t know what I can bring you.” She said sharply. “Can you?”
He swallowed hard as Olenya’s fingers touched his genitals and she stroked and squeezed as it straightened more and more.
Suddenly, he became excited. The next thing she knew, his arms tightened around her and he kissed her frantically, their tongues entwined …….
It had been a long time since he had indulged himself, and his strong desires were being tantalized again. O’Lingya also rejoiced at the lucky star’s arrival.
Firau’s hands stroked and kneaded her …… Though she’d only had a soul-crushing night, O’Lingya was still able to get into the swing of things and willed the messenger who was about to give her a mission to nothing. Everything she had was given to this room, this lustful man.
He loosened Olingya’s belt, and the robe fell open, revealing resilient, light brown skin that smelled fragrant. With a moan of pleasure, Firau lowered his head and kissed her neck.
“Baby, you smell so good, so sexy.”
O’Linya lay limp in the crook of his arm and answered him. Another warm stream overflowed between her thighs, and she wanted a slow, long prelude, because fucking too soon was agonizing torture. Don’t let it break, she thought, for longer.
He began kissing her breasts again, his mouth nibbling on her nipples like a baby sucking on breast milk, his tongue flicking and stirring as he felt them grow hard and full. His hand instinctively teased her, and in an instant it had reached between her thighs, rubbing her pubic hair back and forth.
She longed for him to be firmer, even more savage. She wanted his hand inside her wet cunt, but Phylao didn’t want her to be satisfied too quickly – because he wanted the pleasure to be longer and more intense. He was going to prolong it a little longer …….
“Take me, take me now.”
“Just wait a little while, baby. You’re not ready yet.”
A great wave of heat came over O’Lingya, and she reached out to try to touch him, to tug off his clothes, even to hold him, but he wouldn’t let her. He was in control now, and it was up to him to tell her what to do – and when to do it.
Poor Oulingya was almost fuming with anger. She was alone in this hotel room, at the mercy of the hotel manager, who teased her without letting him satisfy her. Tears of aggravation overflowed her eyes as she remembered how she had tormented the young man in the elevator, remembering the day before.
“Please, oh please! Why are you torturing me like this?”
“The longer it takes the more intense the pleasure will be, and you know it, my baby.”
Of course, he was right. She must not do that with a seductive member of the “Great Love Demon.” She must be strong; but, oh, how hard it was!
By this time, the quick-witted Mr. Firau was on his knees in front of her, his face buried in its belly, his fingertips touching her blonde-red pubic hair. Just when she thought the pleasure was no longer as intense as it had been a moment ago, his lids slid down her belly, his tongue reached inside the roots of her thighs, and his fingers wrapped around her pubic hair, gently at first, then a little heavier, causing him to feel a little – not too much – pain. The potency of this approach was magical, and Olenya went limp. She clutched the doorframe for support, but as her body slowly slipped, her grip loosened.
O’Lingya collapsed into Firau’s respectful arms. He picked her up effortlessly, as if she were a small child, and walked to the bed. Early in the morning, the sounds of the city’s bustle came through the window, and O’Lingya reveled in the pleasure.
She lay on her back and suddenly felt his hand leave its body as he walked away. But soon he returned.
“You are a wonderful woman, young lady.” Firau sighed lowly and gently removed his shirt and pants. “I am indeed so lucky!”
O’Reillya didn’t hear him; her attention was focused on the hotel manager’s body. His skin was bronzed, smooth and firm; for a moment, Olenya almost thought it was a charming, classical knight approaching her.
Her gaze moved from Philao’s black hair and gray eyes to his attractive waist, his toned thighs. From the thick, curly pubic hair stretched a marvelous, straight cock.
O’Lingya held out her hand, waiting for him to make love to her, the torture for her could finally be over.
“Patience, my sweet.” He laughed. “I have to get ready for a while, don’t I?”
Kneeling on the bed, he parted Aurinia’s thighs and moved between them.
This time, his energized tongue pushed deep inside her, and she didn’t expect him to make a surprise attack. A long, unbridled tongue pierced deep into her cunt, grinding up and down, taking her to a wonderland of pleasure. Her hands sank deep into the sheets, accompanied by cries of pain and pleasure.
Her lower body responded rhythmically, her whole body trembling along with it. It felt too wonderful for words ……
Suddenly Firau was off of her and she groaned in frustration, was he really going to leave her like that? “Why? Baby, why?”
Firau bent down and kissed her nipples as she tried to pull him on top of her. She wanted him, she wanted him now.
But Firau smiled and shook his head, then gently wrapped its hands around his waist. To O’Linya’s surprise, he gently turned his head towards her back and began to lick her back, her waist, her hips, then down to her thighs, her feet …… O’Linya’s entire body burned with lust as a stream of mucus flowed out, staining the pink sheets. How much longer would she have to endure this?
Just when she thought he could never want her again, Phylao grabbed her ass and impaled her with a quick, powerful thrust.
In that very instant, Aurinia became the mare beneath him. He knelt behind her and made penetrated her deeply – so deeply that he almost ate her.
“Faster, oh, faster!”
“Shhh,” whispered Philao. “Don’t yell …… We have to keep it down.”
Aurinia tried her best to be quiet, but in vain, and instead of touching her, Firau just tortured her. Was this pain or pleasure? And she had come after the paradise of pleasure.
Filau drove her, attacking again and again, and O’Lingya remembered the past, all the sensations of the past …… She breathed heavily and moaned intermittently as she held on, trying to overcome the most gigantic, and brutal, hurdle of all.
Finally, Filau’s hand slid from her ass to her pussy, playing with the pubic hair and rubbing it gently. Aurinia grew more and more aroused, enduring the torment of her desire as she begged him to touch her most sensitive parts.
“Touch me – touch here.”
He finally noticed her pleading and slid his fingers to her soft pussy, hot and wet ……
With a shriek of uncontrollable pleasure, O’Lingya reached an uncontrollable, unspeakable orgasm. Filau’s cum shot out like a milky pearl strand.
After Filao left, Ou Lingya lay in bed for a few more minutes, then looked at the clock, it was already half past eight! She really had to get up.
The sprinkler head – which had been working fine since that repairman had been here – and O’Reillya took off her robe and walked under it.
She took a painful, soothing shower.
Quickly drying her long blonde-red hair, she didn’t know what to wear. What should you wear to meet a messenger from the Great Love Devil organization? What does he look like? What kind of mission would he be given? What role will she play: slut or lady? Housewife or whore?
She opened her closet to look at the clothes she’d brought with her from London. Wear a cocktail dress? No, definitely not, especially at nine o’clock in the morning. A pair of twill overalls with an open shirt? No, too casual again. Maybe a tight black miniskirt would be more appropriate.
Time passed without her realizing it as O’Lingya picked out her clothes. In fact, it wasn’t until she heard a knock on the door she realized what time it was.
Too late, Ou Lingya yanked up a big, soft bath towel, wiped it on her chest, then wrapped it around her head and rushed over to the door again.
“Good morning, Ms. O’Reillya.”
Outside the door stood a plain man in a gray suit. This must be the messenger from the organization. He’s so incestuous!
“Want me to help?”
The messenger smiled a little and raked a hand through the hair on his forehead. I guess he is, in fact, attractive, thought Aurelia compassionately. But she could hardly believe he was chaste.
“Miss, I think you know who I am, and I have a message for you.”
“From the organization?”
The messenger pressed a finger to his lips, “Please do be careful, my lady. There are some things that only those within the Bureau know. If everyone knew, the ‘Great Love Demon’ organization wouldn’t exist.”
“Will you come in?” O’Lingya asked, leaning against the door, but the messenger shook his head.
“I’ll deliver the message to you right away and then meet you downstairs, I live next door to this hotel.” He opened his briefcase and took out a silver-white envelope, handing it to O’Lingya. “Open it yourself.”
O’Lingya took the envelope and tore it open; inside was a silver-white card with bold, black lettering that read as follows: Your mission is to locate a used sex toy, which is in this hotel, and deliver it to the messenger. You have only one hour.
Ou Lingya almost laughed out loud as she watched. Was this the hardest test they had ever put her through, if it was, she would have gotten it easily.
The messenger turned and walked away.
“I’ll wait to hear from you,” he said. “When you’re ready, you’ll find me at ‘Big Love Devil’.”
O’Lingya placed her hand on his arm.
“No, no,” she laughed. “Actually, you don’t have to go, come wait for me in my room, it won’t take long.”
This time, the messenger didn’t refuse and followed O’Lingya back to his room, where she closed the door and walked behind him.
“Have a seat,” she invited. “You’ll be interested here.”
The messenger sat down on one of the window sofas and placed his briefcase on his lap. O’Lingya grinned at him. He looked like a servant in a bad mood, or a bored stockbroker. She guessed he was probably one of the organization’s errand boys. Perhaps, he was only suited for such errands.
She pulled open a desk drawer and took out a narrow ebony box, exquisitely plated with silver trim, that her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday.
O’Lingya opened the box, which was lined with blue velvet and topped with a sixteenth-century carved ivory con instrument, said by some to have been the treasure of the noble Lady Tudor – some even said to have been for the private use of Lady Elizabeth.
She removed the towel and stood naked in front of Shinobu, who didn’t move or show signs of being impressed by her attractive body – O’Lingya was a bit annoyed. Fine! She’s going to have to show him a couple hands.
One of her legs was leisurely set up on the chair, her stunning full body exposed, and then the lighted con instrument was placed between her pussy lips and then shoved into her soft, hot, wet pussy.
Normally, she’d be thrilled after doing this in front of a man – today she wasn’t. Let’s see, she thought, I was born with a nudity fetish.
“Sir, I like that-a slow long rubbing. You’ll remember that, too, when you see me.”
“Definitely, ma’am.”
She observed his face and there was no unusual expression, was it true?
She indulged even more, holding her nipple between the thumb and forefinger of one hand, while the other hand held the con instrument and rubbed it against her pussy ……
“It’s right here,” she said, and at once a wave of pleasure overflowed her body.
“I’ll bring it right out.”
She reached her climax. But she had to fulfill her duty, and all she had to do now was to dutifully hand the con instrument to the messenger. She fetched it and handed it to him, snickering in her mind.
“Mission accomplished, sir.” She said. “Perfectly in line with the letter. Perhaps the organization should have paid more attention to the wording of the correspondence.”
The messenger took it, placed it carefully in his briefcase, and bowed politely.
“I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow, ma’am. I won’t be late, so please be ready.”
He opened the door and walked out, looking around along the corridor like a young businessman finalizing a deal.
Olenya went to her dresser and combed her hair thoughtfully. If all trials were so easy …… Oh, she couldn’t help but wonder about her father’s failures; perhaps, he was the merely unfortunate one.
She was going to be bored again for the rest of the day! Though she’d always had a job – after all, she’d promised Kris that she’d do her best to scout out some fine pieces for the galleries, and she’d made tentative plans to help out one or two of the galleries in Montmartre and Pigalle this week. Yes, let’s do that, and better yet, use her free time to juggle – and perhaps blend in with the auction houses.
She looked through her closet and picked out a fashionable short shirt and a mini skirt with a pair of high heels. Of course, it wasn’t too hot, so there was no need for stockings. O’Lingya wondered if anyone would notice that she wasn’t wearing panties.
Ten minutes later she appeared in the hotel lounge, and as she passed the locker she saw the American guest she had spent the night with last night, trying his best to act as if nothing had happened, but O’Reillya noticed his hand shaking as he reached for his sun hat.
With a grin, she stepped out, past the double-glass doors and into the street, where the sun scorched the earth and seemed to be turning Paris into a furnace. She looked at her watch: it was only eleven o’clock; some coffee, a snack, and then off to Couturier. It was only eleven o’clock. Louise’s to collect works, there was time enough.
She walked along S. Guiman boulevard and skipped along, then into Couturier. Latin’s narrow streets, past the Hotel Aguillin, and finally squeezed into her favorite coffee shop, where the coffee still had to be brewed, even on a hot July day like this. Conversation in a variety of languages came from all around her, and Aurinia saw a few familiar faces she’d seen at the hotel-conversation she hated.
As she looked around, there didn’t seem to be much to interest her. Instead, there were two beautiful Swedish men who were in the middle of a conversation, and she had little hope of approaching them. The man standing by the counter looked well groomed, but he wasn’t the type she was looking for – too brooding and sullen. Aurinia was getting a little bored, and not for the first time since coming to Paris, she needed a man.
“The “uninhibited” air is not as attractive as it used to be, O’Reillya thought as she sipped her coffee. It was all tourists, officials and honeymooners – hardly any real artists. Nowadays, no one admired the “uninhibited” spirit; it wasn’t fashionable any more. Maybe it’s time to get out of here. Louis.
Just as she was about to get up and leave, the door to the coffee shop opened and another customer came in.
Oh, great, thought Olenya, resuming her seat again and instinctively touching her hair. Perhaps it would be worth it to sit a little longer.
He was young, about nineteen, or, at most, twenty, and as charming and cute as a small animal. He had curly blonde hair, the back of a light brown neck and a well-defined body, wearing a patterned T-shirt on top and a pair of striped jeans underneath; he was perfect!
To O’Lingya’s dismay, he didn’t even glance at her, and went on his way to the counter. She noticed the flat, long package coming from his armpit-it was a painting, wasn’t it?
The young man went to the counter and asked for a cup of coffee and paid the bill as he looked around trying to find a seat. O’Lingya snickered as the only available seat was right next to her table. She straightened her dress, then picked up a morning paper and pretended to read it.
When the young man asked the counter for coffee, she learned that his name was Josh Moore.
Joshimo took the seat and placed his coffee on the table.
“Excuse me …… Miss, help me with the sugar.”
Ou Lingya was looking down at the newspaper when she pushed the sugar bowl over to him. Their hands accidentally touched, his eyelids could not help but slightly red, perhaps sensing that Ou Lingya did not care.
“Business is good here today, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s been great. The coffee at Rodolphe’s has always been good and cheap! That’s important for a student.” His eyes skimmed over the coffee cups to Aurinia, and an electric current traveled through his body. He had honest gray eyes and sensual lips.
“So, you’re an art student.”
He picked up his coffee, a glimmer of doubt sweeping across his eyes.
“How did you guess?”
“It’s not difficult. If I’m not mistaken, that’s a painting you’re pinning. May I have a look at it? I know a few people who collect paintings.”
“Oh, I see nothing wrong with that.” He grinned and shrugged. “Tell you what, you won’t be impressed with it, I’m in Gardin. De. Luxembourg for four hours without being asked. Perhaps it is true that I have no talent-my father used to say that about me.”
He placed the painting on the table and carefully removed the paper wrapped around the outside.
Of course he’s serious, thought Olenya, surprisingly interested in this pretty, perhaps not so bright, young painter, and she wondered if it was an impulse, that is to say, what am I going to do when I see his work?
Buy it just to show that I admire him? Or to tell him that he does have average talent?
Qiao Xi Mu removed the last layer of wrapping paper and displayed the painting in front of Ou Lingya.
She watched in amazement. The canvas was softly colored – a group of people naked and tightly entwined.
“You don’t like it, do you? I’ve known this for a long time. Spacey, not a bit of substance, is it?”
O’Lingya laughed out loud.
“No, no – you’re mistaken. It’s deep and hopeful.”
How to say the painting was good was of vital importance to an unknown painter. She would pay him twice as much or more if he cooperated with her.
“Look, Joshimo, I promise I’m going to love it and I’m going to buy it.”
He looked at her with interest.
“How much are you willing to pay?”
She thought about it for a moment, with a sense of criminality, and then put the painting away.
“A thousand francs.”
He exclaimed.
“That much?”
“No kidding.” She opened her money clip and placed the money on the tablecloth. “Here – do you have any other paintings?”
“There are twelve of them, sitting in my apartment. Due to financial constraints and the canvases being too expensive, I’m thinking of getting rid of them.”
“No! Don’t do that no matter what! At least don’t do it until I see it.”
Ou Lingya summoned the waiter, paid the bill, and pulled Qiao Ximu up to leave.
“But …… where are we going? Miss?”
“To your apartment – where else?”
O’Lingya followed Joshimu until he crossed the last flight of stairs to his dormitory door, where he turned to her apologetically and pulled out his key.
“You see, Miss O’Lingaye, many of the painting’s still live in the attic.”
It won’t take long, she thought, as long as your paintings are as attractive as your person.
She followed him in and was in an open drawing room, with light from the north shining right through the slanted glass roof, and an unfinished nude on an easel in the center of the room, and a stab of jealousy ran through O’Linya. How wonderful it would be if she were that blonde girl, facing the gaze of this painter with a lofty smile.
At once she saw the paintings piled up against the wall-twenty, thirty, forty ……? She lost count.
“There’s plenty more,” Joshimu said to himself. “But they can only be piled up in the attic.”
Ou Lingya didn’t answer. She was busy looking at the paintings, there were landscapes by day, sketches of people, and watercolors. She was shocked. In any case, Joshimu could not escape. She turned to him, her blouse collar automatically open.
“Very well, let’s talk about trading fertilizer, Joshimu.”
Her hands went to Joshimu’s chest and caressed it. the t-shirt was taut against his body and the raised nipples were faintly visible. She removed his t-shirt and kissed his nipples tenderly. His muscles were toned and golden, like bread that had only just been baked, and his chest was full of chest hair. He stared at her blankly, unable to believe it.
Her hand slid to his waistband, pressing to feel the bulge in the front of his jeans, and he snapped back for a moment.
“Deal, ma’am? I ……”
Without a word, she kissed him.
“Trust me, Joshimo, I’m going to make you famous, believe it or not.”
Joshimu kissed her back with a burst of drive, his arms wrapping around her as they rolled to the floor.
“Touch me, Joshimu.”
Involuntarily, he reached for her breasts, unzipped her smock, and caressed her bare, elastic body. Then he unzipped her skirt, and she pushed up so he could pull it down her thighs.
“Touch me, oh ……”
Olingya smiled triumphantly as she was not wearing any panties. Her sexy thighs and mysterious and unpredictable bottom were enough to make any man’s heart sing, and Joshimo was no exception as he leaned down and kissed her all over ……
Then he spread her legs and licked her pussy lips, sucking on them. She excitedly raised her upper body and rolled over on top of Joshimu, spreading her two slender thighs.
“That’s cruel!” He screamed in agony.
“Not after a while.” She replied, then slowly slid down until she was pressed against his straightening cock.
He plunged into her, like a hot knife; then he rolled back into her quickly. Her pussy was hot and wet as their bodies rubbed up and down, both of them lost in a sea of pleasure.
After the incident, Ou Lingya secretly smiled, Qiao Ximu was the special one, different indeed. It seems that today was not spent in vain again.
That evening, after dinner, O’Lingya walked alone on her way to the Mito station, reminiscing all the way. All in all, it had been a good day, and she had met Joshimu – the charming, irresistible Joshimu, who was no worse in bed than he was at the easel.
In the end, of course, she didn’t go back on her word – who would go and tear herself away from someone who had given her so much sexual pleasure? She gave him a handsome honorarium, the gallery got a few more good works, and all in all, no one lost anything. O’Lingya also intends to develop a closer working relationship with her new protege.
Walking, walking, Ou Lingya came to a street corner and saw an old man, holding a dog with mange. If it were usual, she would have turned around and left, but tonight she was in a good mood, not to mention that she had a little bit of wine.
She bent down to pat the dog, and the old man whispered in her ear, “Kiss me, dear lady.”
She tried to push him away, but his hand had reached out and pulled her strongly into his arms and to kiss him. His mouth stank and his clothes reeked of alcohol.
She tried to break away from him, but he held her tighter. Her heart sank, she knew there was no use in shouting, no one cared about a woman shouting in the red light district of Paris.
His hands fumbled over her body, squeezing, sliding up her thighs, reaching down.
“Baby, you’re already wet.”
O’Lingya tried to shake him off, but he was still holding on tight. Her skirt had been lifted up to her waist by him and she tried to pull it off, protecting the last of her dignity.
“Don’t resist, miss.” That old man said softly. A strange light shone in his eyes, and Ou Lingya stopped resisting and heard him say to her, “Today, you’ve been happy enough, tomorrow will be different, Miss Ou Lingya. Perhaps, you can’t always get it so easily ……”
Ou Lingya let out a shriek, then broke free from that old man’s embrace and ran towards the safer, busier streets.
She looked back and the old man and the dog were gone.
Chapter V
“Goodbye, Joshimo.”
O’Lingya kissed Joshimu goodbye and closed the door. He walked gingerly through the hallway toward the stairs.
Joshimu was a great sex partner, O’Lingya thought. She wanted them to do it again.
That day, after she got rid of the old man, she met Joshimu again on the boulevard. He took her to a night club, and the time passed so quickly that she didn’t even think about what the old man had said to her.
She wore lipstick and smiled darkly as she remembered the night she and Joshimo had spent at Club Zola. Of all the clubs she had been to, Zola’s was the most fun. All the “hostesses” wore tight leather suits, leaving the guests to guess who the real women were.
The centerpiece of the club is a terrazzo dance floor, topped with a flamboyant light. At night, the waiters put on a variety of sexual performances. Olenya particularly appreciated the performance of two African boys, code names “J” and “K”, with whom she would have liked to pay good money to have some fun.
But she had Joshimo, and she gradually began to like him. And, while he was young, he was also attractive, and by choosing the Zola Club she was not disappointed.
In the dark area that surrounds the dance floor, guests can do all kinds of games that interest them. In effect, it’s an erotic service. The waiters, both male and female – dressed in tight, translucent leather suits and a foreign idol get-up – weave in and out of the tables and chairs, offering their services to the guests – not for free, of course.
O’Lingya was satisfied and excited, she had never seen a game like this before.
“What’s your favorite, miss?” A pretty waitress asked, “We can provide a variety of services – oral sex, or ……?”
“Oh …… I love chest massages,” O’Lingya gestured, “that feels so good, but I’m worried I don’t have enough energy.”
A male waiter and a female waitress approached, they were smaller, dark haired Eurasian hybrids, like brother and sister. They each wore a leather collar and were dressed in black, both cute.
To Joshimu’s surprise, O’Lingya chose the waitress.
“Add a little more excitement,” she explained, “you should try it too.”
That’s what she enjoyed that night with her two attendants. They teased her politely and attentively, and of course there was her escort, Joshimu.
But no one seemed to care about every move on the dance floor, and O’Linya watched with interest as a young lady lay on her back on the floor, teased by not one, but five people, all in unison.
That night, in O’Lingya’s inn room, she and Joshimu took turns acting out a scene from the club, and they didn’t begin to fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.
O’Lingya wasn’t too sleepy, she just needed sex – a regular, quality sex life – to avoid falling into boredom.
She looked at her watch, it was almost ten o’clock and the messenger would be here in a few moments. She knew she should be a little wary; after all, the old man had warned her about overconfidence. But what did she have to fear? She was capable of dealing with any kind of challenge.
Finally, she waited for the knock on the door, and Olenya straightened her hair one last time (the hairstyle was French) and smoothed out the collar of her short, low-cut shirt. Today, he couldn’t possibly be that cold again!
She opened the door and the messenger was standing outside, still wearing the same gray suit with the ungainly tie.
“Hello, Ms. O’Lingaye, I trust you’ve had another good night. May I come in?”
O’Lingya let him in and he placed the briefcase on the bed. Only finally did he open the briefcase and took out another silver envelope, handing it to Ou Lingya.
“Here’s today’s assignment, young lady, check it out, and I wish you good luck.”
Ou Lingya hastily unwrapped it; inside was a silver card and a subway ticket. Ou Lingya glanced toward the messenger in puzzlement; but he remained motionless. She saw printed on the card, Good morning, Olenya. To-day you must stay on the Paris subway, which begins and ends at the Gare de la Paternoster and the Maritimes.
“But ……?” O’Lingya looked at the messenger suspiciously.
“Turn it over and look at it, ma’am.”
She turned the card over and read, “During your ride in the car, you must have sex with a complete stranger. No failures allowed.”
O’Lingya lowers her head and has sex with a stranger, on the subway! It was too comical! Then another thought turned to the fact that maybe this was an extraordinary experience and feeling.
“I’ll take you to de. Mito station, mademoiselle. Then you’re on your way alone.”
Ou Lingya and the messenger got off the bus at the subway station, and Ou Lingya’s heart jumped into her throat as she repeatedly warned herself that she didn’t need to be nervous. It was the end of the rush hour, and it was crowded, so it would be fine after a while; maybe not a lot of people would notice her on the train. On the other hand, who would she have sex with? Was there such a person?
The letter will be gone soon.
“Do it yourself, Oleander.”
“But how do you know if I’m done?”
The messenger smiled. “We in the organization have our own way of doing things, O’Linya, and one day, if you’re lucky enough to join the organization, you had found out the secret.”
At that moment a crowd of Arabs rushed noisily to the platform and came to the ticket gate to board the People’s Car. The crowd dispersed, and Olenya tried to find the messenger, but he had disappeared.
O’Lingya stood alone on the platform, anxiously waiting for the next subway. She surveyed the lads around her; which of them would be her prey? Or rather, her partner? It wasn’t even a game anymore.
The blonde man standing near the entrance was a good-looking man, and she would have been happy if it had been him.
But had she gotten his attention? A tingle ran through O’Reillya’s abdomen and she thought about sex again. It wouldn’t feel bad to make love to him, that much she knew for sure.
But what if she’s in the same compartment as the old man who coughs and spits? Or with the letter carrier with the yellow teeth and the big belly? No, no, she wouldn’t.
But she knew she didn’t have a choice. She had to get the job done and take the opportunity at the first chance she got – regardless of the other person. And then there was the question of how she could stay unnoticed. Maybe, O’Lingya encouraged herself, where there’s a will, there’s a way ……
She remembered that she had traveled by train from Los Angeles to Cambridge with her student friend Janice to visit Sliver – one of Janice’s boyfriends – who was a medical student. As a gynecologist, perhaps he was brilliant at his job: at no time could you pick out his faults, especially with the female human anatomy.
On that occasion, it was Sunday morning, and the two girls boarded the train slightly drunk, which was not surprising; they had just come out of Janice’s sky-high birthday party and had not yet recovered from it. They hoped for a pleasant journey; they certainly didn’t expect anything to happen on the 8-18 train to Cambridge.
It was an old train, and a musty odor emanated from the vehicle – it was from a pile of rotting logs. The train was empty that Sunday morning, so Janice and Olenya found a clean, empty compartment and lay down on the bench, ready for a good night’s sleep.
They haven’t settled their score with Tom and Franco yet.
Just as they lay down to get ready for sleep, the door pushed open and in walked two young men, one small and dark, the other tall and athletic with blonde hair and blue eyes. They were dressed in college uniforms and holding piles of books, and it wasn’t hard to guess what they did for a living.
“Are there any seats left?”
“Oh …… yes; but is this an empty compartment?”
Even though she had heard their conversation, O’Lingya wasn’t going to get up.
“A platoon of soldiers just got on the train,” the taller student replied apologetically, “and they took up half the train.” He smiled hopelessly. “Let’s sit in the corner, you see if that’s all right.”
“Oh, let them in, Olenya,” said Janice, yawning. “I dare say they won’t eat you.”
But here’s where she’s wrong.
“Let’s take turns sleeping.” Janice suggested as she lay on one of the benches. “I’ll sleep for half an hour, then you sleep.” She had closed her eyes. “Wake me up when we get to Steviecki.”
Euryale looked indignantly at her friend’s sleeping form, and she decided that after a while, she would go back alone. Tom and Franco were already sitting in the chairs across from her, and Olenya pulled out a book.
“Ah–D.H. Lawrence!” Franco said in surprise. “A marvelous writer, don’t you think? Have you ever read The Long Story?”
“Of course.” Aurinia replied (she had read many yellow books and magazines in English, as well as French). “But I think it’s too much – sex is boring sometimes.”
Tom’s eyes lit up with more interest.
“You’re probably a connoisseur, I guess?”
“I didn’t say that. But I think what’s there is there to say.”
“Including lust?”
“That’s natural.”
The conversation went up in the middle, and O’Linya sat back and read the Rainbow. She felt extremely uncomfortable talking to Tom so frankly, it seemed as if Tom’s eyes were always fastened on her; but she would not look up at him. She remembered that Janice was going to wake up, and began to talk again.
“I’m going to the train to get some food,” volunteered Franco after a while. “Anybody want to bring anything?”
After dawdling for a moment, O’Lingya reached into her pocket and pulled out a bit of change.
“A cup of coffee, please.”
“She ……?” He asked, turning his head toward the sleeping Janice.
“Oh, just don’t wake her up. It was her birthday party last night, and she had a ball, and is in need of a good night’s sleep, and I’ll wake her up when we get to Stevenage.”
Disappointed, Franco stepped into the aisle and the door of the compartment slammed heavily shut.
“Want a cigarette?”
Tom handed her the cigarette case, but she shook her head.
“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”
“Not smoking? Hmm?” Tom put the cigarette case back in his pocket and smiled contemptuously at her. “Oh, what a lady! Do you like to take advantage?”
O’Lingya felt a steep reddening of her lids, but she would never be taunted by a student not much older than her. She closed her book and looked straight at him.
“I like sex and am good at it, maybe better than you.”
If she hoped to humiliate him by saying that, she was wrong.
“Oh, I doubt it, Olenya, I’m very good at it.” He paused. “Wouldn’t you like to confirm that?”
Just then, the door to the compartment slammed open and Franco peeked in.
“Conductor!” He declared. “He’s checking tickets and will probably be here in a few minutes.”
“Oh, dear! Didn’t you say they never check tickets on Sunday mornings?” Tom shouted.
Tom looked at Olenya for help.
“Please, O’Lingya – help us, if we get caught again, I’ll have to go to court, and then I’ll be finished!”
“Again?”
“Yeah. Franco and I can only afford one ticket.”
“Why should I help you?”
“Because you wanted to confirm my sex appeal.”
“OK, OK, so what do I do?”
Tom’s lids lit up for a moment.
“Just follow me, you take your ticket and let Janice sleep there, she seems fine.”
Tom and O’Lingya stepped out of the carriage and closed the door. At the end of the carriage was a toilet, and O’Lingya immediately realized where Tom was taking her.
“What for ……?”
“It’s fine here.” Tom replied, pushing the door open, “It’s safe here. If the conductor comes, you’ll hand him your ticket to look at through the doorway below. There’s no way he’ll think there’s another person in here.”
At his bidding, O’Lingya stepped into the restroom and Tom bolted the door.
“Well, Olenya – how are we going to pass the time?”
He reached out and pulled her towards him, his mouth pressing into Au Lingya’s. His tongue did its best to part her lips, though Ou Lingya resisted a bit. His hands slid up her body, feeling the highs and lows of her body. Her nipples were hard and bulging.
He unhooked her bra and lifted the cashmere jacket, exposing her breasts.
“I want you, Olenya. I want you.”
His lips left hers and kissed from her neck to her chest, his hand cupping her right breast. He’s not lying, O’Lingya said in her mind. He is indeed an insider, and I’m no worse than he is.
Space on the train was limited, after all, but Olenya compromised. Tom pinched her nipples as she reached down and unzipped his pants, gently and slowly stroking his cock with one hand and rubbing her pubic hair with the other.
He moaned in pleasure as he responded to her caresses.
Eager for more exciting caresses, Tom slipped his hand under her skirt and gently rubbed the roots of her stocking-wrapped thighs; his fingers slipped into her panties and tested her mysterious pussy.
“You’re ready for it, Olenya,” he said sharply. “You can’t hide it from me.”
O’Lingya rubbed his cock, trying to stimulate him so that he would give him a little pleasure. Her pleasure was in his hands, but he surrendered first.
O’Linga was startled when Tom’s hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a pencil sharpener, casually breaking it open.
“Don’t worry, baby, I won’t hurt you.”
He lifted up her skirt, slipped the knife into her shorts, and with a hiss cut the left side of the shorts, he cut the right side of the shorts in the same way, then pulled them down and rolled them up into a ball and shoved them into his pocket.
“You have an amazing body, Olenya. Do you want it now? Or is it still that ‘no’?”
“Can’t do much here,” O’Lingya countered, “and the ticket checkers are coming.”
Tom laughed, “Check it out, I’ll tell you what we should do.”
He let go of her, bent down and lowered the toilet lid, then sat on it, his erect penis sticking out of the front of his pants, damp and straight.
“You turn your back to me, Olenya,” he instructed her. “Now you sit on me – I’ll come inside you.”
She’d listened, and she’d been longing to make love to a man again. Yesterday’s dance had been so disappointing; all night she’d danced with a bunch of beautiful, young, energetic men, but surprisingly none of them had given her what she wanted-exciting, soul-crushing fucking.
He thrust into her steadily, quickly, rubbing gently. He also knew that the slower they moved, the longer the period of arousal.
“Ah,” Tom whispered. His cock was deep in her cunt, the tip of it touching the cervix.
“Don’t make a sound,” O’Lingya shushed, though she could barely keep from screaming out as well. “The others will hear us.”
Just then, someone pushed on the door and the sound of two people speaking came from outside the door – a woman and her child trying to use the restroom.
“Tell them you’re sick,” Tom whispered as soon as he could, while slowly rubbing up and down against Aurinia.
“I …… – I’ll do it as soon as I can.” Oleander gasped. “I …… I don’t feel so good.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I’ll try again.”
They drew a loose breath.
O’Lingya was so excited she was almost crying, and she felt Tom’s arousal. His hands clasped her thighs, and when she looked down, she saw that his knuckles were white.
Suddenly she grabbed the edge of the yellow cracked tub and she braced herself against it rubbing it up and down as her other hand stroked his sperm sac from between her thighs.
“Faster, faster,” he moaned. Olenya knew that in a few moments he was going to cum, and she would have to wait a while; she took her hand from his sperm sac and began to stroke herself. From the mirror across the room, she saw a scene she would never forget: a girl with a full head of red hair, sitting naked on top of a blonde young man, the young man’s mouth slightly open ……
A knock on the door.
“Ticket, please!”
They were so aroused that the knock on the door didn’t interrupt their lovemaking.
“Ticket, pass the ticket through the doorway at the bottom.” Tom whispered.
Ou Lingya did as he commanded, and at the same time, the pleasure came to her whole body, and she couldn’t help but wriggle her whole body.
Tom was still inside her, and he too climaxed, white jets of semen shooting out, his fingers sinking deep into her thighs, hurting her; but all O’Linya could think of was pleasure, endless pleasure.
The ticket reappeared under the door accompanied by a, “Your ticket, sorry to bother you.”
Afterward, Tom and Olenya returned to the compartment, and the train was about to arrive at Stevens, where Janice and Franco were making out.
“We disturbed you,” O’Lingya smiled sourly, “Did you sleep well?”
The train arrives in Cambridge and the two lads walk to the platform with their books in hand, everyone a little uncomfortable as they may never see each other again.
Unlike usual, the ticket inspector was a man, and he held out his hand to Yom and Franco for tickets.
“All have tickets.”
To O’Lingya’s surprise, Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out a round-trip ticket before handing it to the ticket inspector and offering a polite smile.
“But …… but you always have a ticket!” O’Lingya yelled suspiciously.
Tom smiled wryly, “Yes, I have tickets, what’s not to like?”
“But why ……?”
“My baby – why else would you be making love to me?” He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a pair of silk panties embellished with lace, “These are yours.”
She stood staring at him in bewilderment, and all at once he turned to her and waved happily.
“See you later.”
Olingya’s mouth dropped open in surprise, none of this would have happened if I hadn’t seen you first, she thought.
Although it only happened five or six years ago, O’Lingya thought it had been a long time. Olenya had grown up a lot since then, and she had lost count of the number of times she had looked forward to meeting Tom again, to get her revenge. Now, standing on the platform in Patra, she remembered it all. The blonde young man looked so much like Tom – tall, with an arrogant chin. Making love to him might be like getting back at the bastard who’d toyed with her all those years ago, and she’d already planned how to do it.
The train pulled into the station, and O’Lingya retrieved her thoughts, reminding herself that this was the only chance she had left: she had to take it.
To her horror, the compartment was fuller than she had expected. There were women, children, merchants, and even – to her horror – two gendarmes! It was too much trouble!
The subway pulled out of the station and slowly accelerated to a dark bend, where Olenya began to look for her “victims”. There weren’t many suitable objects: two old men with a curly-haired dog; a young man with pockmarks, who seemed to be a bank clerk, but whose ears stood out too much; and a middle-aged businessman reading an amateur photography magazine.
She chose the middle-aged businessman as her target of attack, and she stood right in front of him. Now, how was she going to get his attention? Luckily, he was sitting in the corner of the compartment, so if she had her back to the other passengers in the compartment, maybe they wouldn’t have seen her flirting with him.
The train came to another curve, and Olenya took advantage of the slight inclination of her body, her leg “accidentally” touching the businessman, who finally raised his head. He was shocked when he saw Olenya’s slightly open shirt and her half-naked breasts.
She had to hurry, the train was already pulling into the first station.
“Lonely? Sir, we can find a place to play for a while.”
The businessman laughed.
“Say that again, miss. But you …… are not the type I want, Irons, get off.”
He turned to the pock-marked lad and the two men stood up. O’Lingya watched in disappointment as they got off the train.
At the first disembarkation station, a large group of Japanese tourists boarded the train, and she couldn’t help but sigh as she was squeezed to the door leading to the next compartment. Holding out hope, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind her.
The view from this compartment wasn’t much better. But Olenya immediately noticed a tall, dark man who was also sitting in the last row. He certainly wasn’t pretty, but he had an elegant nose, expensive and decent clothes, and stylish wavy hair. He wore sunglasses and seemed to be thinking about something.
She approached him and he seemed to sense her approach and looked at her. She hated the sunglasses that were blocking his eyes and she didn’t want to show any expression.
O’Linya struggled to squeeze her way back down the aisle, and no one paid any attention to her until she was standing in front of the man. She was ready to speak, but he spoke first. “You’re like a violet, young lady. A sweet, sexy, summer violet.”
His voice was low and deep, magnetic, and a shiver ran down O’Lingya’s spine.
She bent down and kissed him, and he looked both surprised and pleased. His hands went to the front of her short shirt, no doubt feeling the bare breasts and hard, bulging nipples underneath.
“I want you, sir.”
Her hand went to his thigh and he looked at her. But bit didn’t continue to hold her tight and let go of her short shirt.
“Don’t you find me attractive? Sir?”
He laughed, a strangely mocking laugh. Then pulled her face toward him and kissed her.
“I wouldn’t say that, young lady. Though you do make people feel good.”
“I don’t understand why ……?”
He didn’t answer, which angered O’Lingya. She was going to make him understand, and the other passengers as well, that she was attractive.
She yanked him up and backed him against the wagon. He was breathing hard and she knew he wanted her. All eyes were on them now, but it was as if she didn’t see them. There was no way out, and if she wasn’t done by the time they reached the terminal, then her dreams were going to be shattered for good. He was a challenge she couldn’t resist.
O’Lingya unzipped his pants as fast as she could, and though he still had an arrogant smile on his lips, he seemed happy to be a prisoner under her.
He already had an erection. She bent down and kissed him, played with him ……
“Baby, take me ……”
He groaned as she crouched down on top of him, and they both perked up.
There was a sudden silence in the compartment, not a sound. O’Lingya didn’t turn around, but she knew it was a protest from the travelers behind her.
She lifted her right leg, his hand supporting her under her knee, and as he impaled himself inside her, he angled his head and let out a long groan of pleasure.
Olenya knew the other passengers had become oblivious to her brazenness. Her skirt lifted to her waist, revealing her ass and pussy covered in blonde-red pubic hair. The fact that a dozen people, perhaps more, were watching them inspired O’Lingya to be even more wanton, not caring what the passengers around her saw or thought.
She wanted very much to last a little longer, but the people mover was starting to slow down, and it was going to be the end of the line in a few more minutes.
Torn by longing and wildness, O’Lingya forced herself to move faster.
His hands were dying on her, almost there, almost there ……
She noticed a sound, like the buzzing of bees. She realized it was the passengers whispering, “Here it is, here it is.” Their voices stimulated her, and she felt his cock reach deeper and deeper into her.
They both climaxed ……
Aurinia’s whole body relaxed as she pulled down her skirt and turned to the other passengers. To her surprise, they showed no sign of excitement, they had no sense of what was happening a few steps away. They remained as they were – some were reading the newspaper, some were chatting, and some were looking out the window. Nothing seemed to be happening.
The train would be arriving at Mary Dixie station soon. She straightened her clothes and turned to the man who had created the opportunity for him.
“Thank you,” she said, then kissed him on the cheek.
“I am happy, miss, believe me.” He laughed and stroked her cheek. “It’s not often that a blind man has such an attractive sexual partner.”
Ou Lingya was dumbfounded with surprise. She was surprised she hadn’t felt it, hadn’t seen it! She wanted to say something, apologize to him – though she didn’t know why – but the station had slowly come into her view.
The train slowed to a stop and the doors slid open automatically. O’Lingya squeezed off the train with the flow of people and didn’t realize what she had done until she was standing on the platform. The train pulled out of the station again, and through the window she saw that her brief sexual partner was still sitting in the same seat, with the same enigmatic smile on his face.
“A very fine performance, please accept my best wishes.”
Aurinia looked around and saw a familiar man standing on the platform just behind her. It was the messenger, still wearing the same gray suit, only this time with a folder and a pencil. He was waiting for her at the end of the line.
“So I passed?”
The messenger bowed politely.
“Frankly, I’m not too optimistic about the certainty of your success, Ms. O’Lingaye. You are indeed very brave, and you have done a beautiful job today. But, of course,” he laughed, “this is but an easily accomplished task, and your struggle has only just begun.”
Chapter VI
That evening, O’Leary and Joshua had a delightful, romantic dinner at Rocky’s. They discussed the upcoming exhibition in London, which Chris tentatively titled “The Tender Land”. During the meal, they discussed Joshimo’s upcoming exhibition in London, which Chris tentatively titled “Tender Land”. After the meal, Joshimo had to go back to his studio to continue working, so Olenya had to go alone to a low-class theater in the red-light district, watched a pornographic film, and appreciated the vulgarity of the people around her.
When she returned to the hotel, it was late at night. After kicking off her shoes and collapsing on the bed, she was too tired to even undress. As she reached out to turn off the bedside lamp, her hand came across something; a worn, hardback notebook, locked with a small lock.
It’s her father’s diary.
O’Lingya brought the printed lead book over to her, and in the meantime took another pillow and put it behind her so she could lean comfortably against the wall. She opened the small lock of the diary and flipped to the title page. She didn’t know how many times she had read the few sentences on it, but each time, she was still thrilled.
Saturday, June 5th. This evening the messenger came and gave me an envelope containing detailed arrangements for my next ordeal. I am to go to the French Cinema on the outskirts of Argyle and make love to the first woman who comes to negotiate with me.
At about 7:30, I arrived at the movie theater. A woman in a black leotard with scruffy hair sold me the ticket, and I secretly hoped that this woman was not the first person I would conquer. Fortunately, the woman did not offer me her body, although as she handed me the ticket, she looked at me with extreme solicitude and said, “We are always happy to welcome a gentleman of your style. I’m sure you’ll have a soulful evening, sir.”
Inside the theater, the light was dim and the air was stiflingly hot. There was also a sickening mixture of thousands of smells: cheap wine, garlic, perfume and oil, and I wondered why the owner had not cleaned or repainted the theater. The Holy Lord would not want to patronize such a place.
It’s an old-fashioned theater, sitting rather like hand chairs rather than the usual concave-backed single seats one finds. The two rows of seats were also quite far apart. Well, there were no fleas to speak of. But, at least there was the small advantage of having plenty of room to stretch your legs.
A handsome Arab boy with long, thick eyelashes led me to my seat. As I prepared to sit down comfortably, I felt his soft, girlish hand touch my thigh. For a moment I was mesmerized by him, but then I thought about the instructions I had been given in the letter and shook my head helplessly. I had to keep my head in this life-and-death situation. “Maybe I’ll see you in a bit.” I told him as he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
My stomach convulsed with pain. Honestly, it was hard to take a moment to think about things in this sad place filled with pornographic images. All I knew was that the organization must be planning the location of the next ordeal again. In the dimness I scanned my surroundings, not a single person paid any attention to me, their eyes looked like they were pinned to the screen.
The movie had started long ago, and it was effortless to keep up with the storyline – if it could be called a storyline. On the screen, a not-so-lovely-looking nun lifts her skirt to two horny men, and as she greedily kisses one man between her legs with her lips, the other man pounces on her. The nun wasn’t pretty, just rather seductive as her two scarlet, sensual lips moved over her lover’s body. The two suitors, however, were quite handsome. Despite my conservatism, I soon found myself attracted to the vulgarity of the spectacle.
I raked my eyes over the rows of seating, sure that no one would be able to see what I was doing. Now, with my penis erect and somewhat aching, I simply unbuttoned my pants, moved my stiff body, and masturbated to myself.
I was so engrossed in my personal pleasure that I didn’t notice a tall, slightly dark-skinned woman walking down the aisle toward me. To be precise, I only realized it when she fluttered down beside me.
“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you, sir?”
The gentle San Francisco accent was soul-crushing to me. Not at all harsh like the brown-skinned narrator in the movie, her voice was low, husky, warm and thought-provoking. I couldn’t help but feel my heart fluttering. If this alien-like woman could be my first conquest, then this visit to the movie theater would be a worthwhile one.
The woman was slender and well-proportioned; her ample breasts clung to the strapless, evening gown adorned with metallic discs. The bright red gown wrapped tightly around her beautiful body like a lover’s embrace, her hazel eyes sparkled with passion, and her lustrous black curls cascaded over her tanned shoulders. Truly a wondrous flower blooming in the desert.
“I …… don’t, of course, mind. Have a seat.”
She may have seen me masturbating, but she just didn’t express it out of the blue. I watched her quietly out of the corner of my eye as she pretended to be fully engrossed in the movie, a disguise that couldn’t be hidden from me. Her nipples were large and hard, standing out against the front of her dress, and there were plenty of empty seats in the movie theater, but she had to sit right next to me, and the heat from her body seeped right into my shirt and pants. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her and began to mentally curse my own constraints and the organization’s strict orders. If I wanted to have sex with her, she would have accepted it.
I don’t need to be bothered, this brunette banshee delivered.
“It’s hot, isn’t it, and you wouldn’t complain if everyone was a little more casual?”
I turned my head and realized that the shawl on the outside of her gown had slipped off, and I watched out of breath as she slowly removed the gown that wrapped around her body, her ample breasts revealing themselves bit by bit. It wasn’t until this woman’s hands were on me, unbuttoning my shirt and stroking my breasts with her skillful, strong fingers, that I awoke as if from a dream.
Emboldened, I reached my hand over and touched her thigh and slid it inward a little, her taut, silky smooth skin burning my palm. The intense desire to have her made my hand push up between her legs until it touched her pussy. I longed for my fingers to be buried right here. But to my great disappointment, she caught my hand and moved it away from her thigh. I looked at her quizzically while she placed her hand on my knee and gently patted it, arousing my desire. I must have inadvertently let out a hungry moan because she smiled and put a finger to her lips.
I sat back in my seat in frustration as she swayed my pleasure. She looked indifferent and unresponsive as I stroked her in agitation, and when I was aroused by her, she stopped. Her hands were still on my hungry body, but she had no intention of seducing me. I watched the expression on her face and noticed a wicked smirk resting on her rosy lips.
I couldn’t believe that the demon woman could be so cold no matter what. An agony of frustration caused me to fling her hands away. She still smiled as I frantically tore at the front piece of her strapless gown.
On the flickering screen, a topless nun with long sexy curly hair was in the company of a middle-aged man wearing a bishop’s crown and a bishop’s robe. The actress’s breasts were reasonably attractive, but they couldn’t compare to this woman’s that I was frantically kissing and fondling.
I had never tasted such female flesh; this woman’s nipple was sweet and salty, like the kernel of an imported fruit dried by the tropical sun. I kissed it, bit it, pinched it with my fingers, stroked it, and my lover seemed pleased with my behavior as she smiled and twisted her head to the side, her dark hair sliding down onto the filthy saucy purple carpet.
I wanted her desperately, and kept recalling what the messenger had told me, that this woman had already offered me her body in the shadowy cinema; if the organization permitted it, then I must possess her – but I must admit that the desire for sex had long since outweighed the weight of the task by now. The taste of her breasts had merely whetted my appetite.
She probably saw what I was thinking, so when I was once again about to slip my hand between her legs, she turned her face toward me and spoke. Her soft, husky, low accent mesmerized me.
“I want you, you damned bastard, I want you now-immediately.”
She stood up and I wondered where she was going. Maybe she was going to lead me out of the audience to the dressing room; or out of the movie theater together to some alleyway that the pedestrians coming and going never noticed.
To my great surprise, she just leaned over one of the empty chairs in the front row and began to lift up her skirt. Underneath was only a pair of black French shorts.
Sliding my hand up her thigh and down the side of her shorts, I try to slip a finger between her damp legs, but she shakes her head.
“I want you to enter me from behind,” she commanded. There was an undeniable authority in her soft voice. “Tug the triangular hem of my shorts to one side and then listen to my instructions.”
I did as she said and was soon impaling her. She was hot, like a volcano, making me feel like an inveterate self-masturbator was moving all over me. I slid my hand up her ass and she signaled not to, preferring instead to let my hand touch her pussy. I simply played with her ample breasts to satisfy my greedy hands.
Later, I felt her shudder under me, so I let my cock impale her a few more times.
Busy as I was I glanced at the screen and saw a naked girl backing up helplessly, but coming to a point of joy.
The woman didn’t move a muscle when I pulled out of her, and it was a long time before she crumpled back in her seat, huffing and puffing. Finally she sat up, removed her clothes from her back, turned her lids toward me, and gave me a heartfelt smile.
But she wasn’t quick to remove her skirt, and as she turned her face, I looked over my shoulder and noticed something odd: the outline of a lovely, still erect man’s penis.
Olenya couldn’t help but giggle as she read an account of her father’s encounter with Rosalie. The savvy transsexual knew a thousand ways to please a man with a mouth – and was well versed in a thousand ways to bring a man to orgasm with her backside. To this day, O’Lingya still admires her father’s adventurous spirit. It was a tragedy that he had failed to make it into the organization by failing in his last test. And it was an even greater regret that he died before he had the chance to see his daughter excel in fulfilling his long-cherished dream.
Ou Lingya’s troubled thoughts no longer had time for this. She just wanted to set this history straight and get it over with. She owed her father mostly – and certainly owed herself too much.
“I assure you, ma’am. There will be no mistakes.”
O’Lingya looked at the card again and raised her head to stare at the messenger.
“Do you want me to ……?”
“That’s right, O’Lingya. Your mission is to seduce seven boyars before dawn tomorrow. It’s clearly written, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course. But seven?”
“Seven. The ‘Great Love Devil’ organization made a point of it, I think.”
“I don’t believe you can find seven boyars in all of Paris!” Aurinia exclaimed, not knowing whether to cry or laugh.
“If you can’t finish the job, just say so, Ms. O’Lingya. Is there some difficulty ……”
O’Lingya stubbornly stood up straight and, in a dramatic gesture, threw the card onto the table.
“I promise you: no problem. I swear to you that O’Linya has always kept her word.”
O’Lingya sat grimly on a bench in the Luxembourg Park, gazing at the crowds that passed through it. It was already two o’clock, and she had not yet found a boyish man, but a lecherous one had approached her. She ran through all the tourist attractions – the Bau Peter Center, the Eiffel Tower …… and a long list of places that made one’s head hang down – in short, wherever she could think of In short, wherever there were young people, she’d been. Met a few guys that interested her, too – sadly, none of them were boy-boys.
Time flies.
In the distance, a group of nannies and a few mothers with children were sitting and chatting as their children hunted around for pigeons. It occurred to O’Lingya that the only way to find the seven boy-boys was to go to the kindergarten.
There were two priests walking around as if conversing about something and they were dressed like bats in their black vestments. In a flash, a thought flashed, ST Simon Public Secondary School! The only specialized school for boys in all of Paris. Anyone who knew the place lived like a prison – adapted only to a few boy-men who voluntarily remained chaste. It was run by a group of monks. How could Aurelia get in?
But didn’t she have a cousin, Monique, who used to teach music at an all-boys school under the jurisdiction of the Christian Church?
Standing up and smoothing out her skirt, O’Lingya quickly made her way to the park gates. She was going to get some important phone numbers.
At eight o’clock that night, O’Lingya stood in front of the gates of the ST Simon Public School for Boys, briefcase in hand. As she looked at the heavy black oak doors, it was hard to believe that she was going to get a job in this hellhole. It was devoid of any energy or enthusiasm, like a horror movie’s Castle Angora.
What was to be done? Her heart was in the right place, but she was still deeply disturbed. This time it might be the most incredible thing she had ever done. Of course, this hadn’t come easy, and she wasn’t going to just give up. For the first time in her life, she seriously thought about running away from the situation, walking away, away from the school, away from the ordeal, and away from the organization. But then she thought of her father’s diary and her hopes and dreams for many years, and she found the courage to do it again. I can’t back down, she admonished herself; even if I end up failing, I’ll do my best.
Dressing up as a music teacher was perfect for her, and she couldn’t help but be grateful to Dr. Peterson, who had given her rigorous piano training. She staggered closer to the door.
A bell rang in the distance, and soon a rusty grated window opened. A wrinkled face peeked out, looking at Ou Lingya with displeasure.
“I’m sorry, I’m O’Lingya, the temporary music teacher. I think the head of the school has already called you, it was in the morning ……”
“Oh yes, I know, Father Abbott doesn’t normally allow female teachers in the school, but the head of the school speaks very highly of you. You may come in.”
He opened the aged oak door and Olenya stepped inside. Her cousin looked her up and down with a critical eye, and she was glad she was wearing a gray coverall.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Ducard is ill,” explained his cousin, “but the boys would like the daily piano lessons to go on as normal. I, Ambe, have you teaching some rather gifted pupils this evening.”
I was hoping for that, thought O’Lingya. Seven boyars were found.
With their cousin leading the way, they headed inside the campus.SThe Simon Public School had the usual boarding-school smells-the smell of disinfectant on the pines and the aroma of boiled cabbage-and O’Reillya suddenly felt like she was home. The two of them walked quietly down a long, dimly lit hallway past the principal’s office. Up some stairs and through a narrow aisle, they came to a door labeled “Music Room.”
“All music lessons are here. Be sure to be strict with the students. However, I’m sure you’re up to the task. Our students lead an almost reclusive life, with very little contact with women. Plus, to add to that, their parents want them that way. Remember, when you leave the school, leave the key in Father Abbott’s office.”
After her cousin had left, Olenya pushed open the door to her room. The reception was unexpected; instead of a group of fifth-grade European boys, she was confronted by three exceptionally beautiful boys she had never seen before – a pair of dark-haired twins and an angelic blonde boy who looked like a church choir leader. None of them were older than eleven. Olenya almost despaired that she hadn’t fallen so far as to try to capture babies in their cradles.
Her first reaction was to apologize to the school authorities and turn around and leave the school. Too late, however, one of the little brunette boys ran forward like an adorable puppy and grabbed her arm with both hands, dragging her towards the piano.
“Oh, Miss! It’s so high with to know you! My name is Caesar, and this is Gilbert and my brother, Anton. Play with us, will you? Would you like to hear us play the liturgical pieces? We’ve been practicing them all week at Poe’s with great diligence.”
O’Lingya sighed, then sat down on the stool next to the piano and opened the piano lid. What a long night this was going to be!
An hour and a half later, Olenya walked out of the music room, wanting to get as far away from the school as possible, she glanced at her watch, a quarter to ten. If she could return to the hotel instantly, there would still be time to think of another way out, but first she had to put the key in Abbott’s office.
She panicked as she walked around the campus and ended up going the wrong way, and by the time she realized it, she was lost. Turning into a corner and walking down the silent corridor, she had long been scared out of her wits. At this time in the middle of the night, the entire campus was as quiet as a tomb, and Ou Lingya felt bewildered as to where to go.
There was a sound of footsteps in the distance, Ou Lingya let out a long breath of relief, there was someone nearby, he would help her. However just as the footsteps were getting closer to him, they turned a corner and gradually the footsteps went away.
Well, she should be able to get out of it herself and find her way back. All she had to do was find someone – a concierge, or a teacher who worked late into the night in the office – and ask around. She walked up to a random door, knocked on it, waited for a response, no one was there. Walked to another door, still silent except for her own heartbeat. She twisted the handle on the door and looked in through the crack at the empty classroom. Empty would help her instead, if there was a stairwell she would be able to reach the ground floor.
Just as she turned to check elsewhere, she saw a bolted door at the end of the hallway. Perhaps it would provide provenance.
O’Lingya passed a row of offices and came to the main door. Unlocking the bolt, she tentatively pushed the door open; thankfully there was indeed a flight of stairs that led to a door outside. O’Lingya quickly walked down the stairs and tried to push the door open; miraculously, it was unlocked. Ou Lingya was ecstatic as she walked out of the room and into the flowery night air.
To her dismay, she soon found herself trapped just as she had been earlier, only this time in the backyard of the campus, with a high wall enclosing the school building. She heard a cacophony of vehicle traffic coming from the other side of the urged thick brick wall.
There might be a door somewhere, or a low wall that she was able to get over. She kept walking along the base of the wall, passing a rose garden and seeing a small chapel. Hearing a faint sound not far away, she continued in that direction. If she could run into one of the clerics, she’d have to go on a rant, and at the very least they’d show him a way out of the campus.
As she passed a low stone-and-brick building behind the main schoolhouse, she saw a dim light from a flashlight or carrying lamp coming from the distance. After a few minutes, she discerned that it was light reflecting off the water. And there were voices, young vibrant voices.
In the middle of a forest, Ou Lingya walked in silence, when suddenly, she changed her expression in shock. In front of her, in the leaf-covered swamp, there was a huge artificial lake. In the gusts of night wind, the lake surface rippled in layers.
It was not the lake itself that made Ou Lingya hold her breath in excitement, nor the lights of the tiki lamps spread around the lake, illuminating the whole meadow, but a group of beautiful boys, who were swimming in the lake, and whose agile forms swam about in the water. A few slightly older boys were lying or sitting on the lawn around the lake, their naked bodies as pure white and perfect as classical carvings in the moonlight.
All eyes turned to O’Lingya as she walked across the grass toward them. Her heart was pounding with excitement. She knew it was these physically pure and inexperienced boys with strong desires that she was ultimately looking for. She removed her pullover and skirt and let them slip gently to the ground as the boys’ expressions gradually changed from alertness to curiosity and surprise, and for the first time in their innocent eyes there was a glint of lust.
They reached out to her, inviting her to walk with them into the cool, deep water, and asking her to bring them into the world of men with sweet, skillful skill.
……
O’Lingya slid down the end of the rope and, a moment later, reached the ground. She landed on her hands and knees, sprawled alongside the crowded driveway. Cars and motorcycles whizzed past her, and the drivers were amazed to see the slim young woman, who at midnight had climbed out of the St. Simon Public School’s courtyard wall and climbed out.
Just as she climbed to her feet and turned around. Almost collided with a ragged old beggar-just like the old man she’d met that night, on her way back to the Mito station. He was waving a beer bottle in his hand, staring at her lustfully, and she pulled away in disgust.
“Wait a minute, miss! Is that any way to treat an old friend? How about a kiss, huh?”
No matter how much Au Lingya resisted, he wrapped that free arm around her waist and held her tight. His breath smelled of cheap brandy and putrid goose, and O’Lingya almost vomited when he had to force his tongue into her mouth. He was too excited and frantically squeezed her against the wall. There was no doubt that he wanted more than just a kiss from Au Lingya.
“Come with me, baby, I know a place where no one will bother us.”
As he squeezed O’Lingya’s breasts and huffed in her ear, O’Lingya was ready for action. She slammed her knee into his stomach and he made to lie on all fours on the pavement, coughing hard and covering his abdomen with his hands.
“Hey, hey, Ms. O’Lingya, it’s not seven, it’s ten boy-boys, and you’re accomplishing a great deal – I have to admit I had my doubts about your abilities. We should call you the ‘Great Love Devil’ Elite.”
O’Lingya couldn’t help but feel smug.
“I’ve accomplished my mission, are you satisfied?”
“What I’m satisfied, it’s the organization that’s satisfied. I don’t see any trouble now.” The messenger said as he clipped a note to his notepad. “Now I’m going to leave you alone for the rest of the day. There will be no new trials until tomorrow.”
He turned to leave, and on a sudden whim, O’Lingya grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to turn and face her.
“Don’t be in a hurry, sir. You put me in that horrible position last night, and you’re going to make it up to me.”
She sauntered over to the door and removed the key that was in the lock.
“What on earth do you want, ma’am? I have an important meeting this afternoon; I have to go.”
“I won’t let you go, sir.”
O’Lingya cupped the key in her hand and threw her arm out. The messenger then defiantly went for the key in her hand. She lifted her skirt and very quickly tucked the key into her panties, pinning it to her labia. The cold metal made her shiver, but she felt indescribably cozy.
“How do you ……?”
“You go right ahead, sir. If you want the key, you come and get it.”
“Do you want me to ……?”
“Take it from me. Come up here! I’m waiting.”
“I understand ……”
His gaze was filled with a glow of excitement. Was this the grey-haired, obnoxious, unassuming servant, the foot soldier who consciously, willingly, and faithfully conveyed one of the organization’s instructions?
He took one step at a time towards her until they were very close to each other. She was able to feel the hot air streaming in and out of her face as he exhaled. He ran his greedy fingers over her bare shoulders, then down her smooth neck, then his fingers went between her about legs.
His hands were surprisingly cool on a sweltering night like this one in Paris; Olenya felt his touch even more unexpectedly pleasant at the same time. Maybe he wasn’t the boring type in the first place.
“This is improper behavior, Miss. I think you understand that. Is this fair to me? You’re not bribing me, are you, Oleander?”
A small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “In fact, all I had to do was call the desk and I was out. I’ll tell them you accidentally lost your key.” He put his hand on the telephone on the table next to him. “All I have to do is grab the receiver and dial zero – is that good, O’Linya, or do you want to keep playing your little game?”
“That’s your choice, Mr. Messenger.”
“That’s stupid! Why don’t we play some fun games? After all, it’s too easy for me to stick my finger in your leg and remove the key. Something so light and easy doesn’t interest me.”
Aurinia took a seat in a Louis-era armchair with interest, slowly crossing one leg over the other so that the messenger could clearly see the triangular edge of her pink panties.
“What do you suggest?”
“I propose a game of solitaire. It’s a game of equal opportunity for all, ma’am.”
He opened the briefcase he carried and removed a stack of cards.
“Do you play cards, O’Linya? I think it’s more fun to play poker.”
Olenya took a sip of chilled white wine and lazily leaned back in her chair. She looked very sexy in an Edward VII-era outfit and stilettos, yet Mr. Messenger didn’t seem intent on stripping them off. He was pretty much naked in just a pair of silk boxer shorts. He spread his cards out on the table in front of her with extreme skill, an imperceptible smile on his face.
“Four of the same. Memorize them as best you can, miss.”
“I’m in good hands.” Aurinia said excitedly. “A thousand times over,” she pushed the cards in front of him.
“Look, a five-card flush.”
“But ……?”
“Yes, I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Though you marked the cards with the deliberate intent to deceive me. I hope you had it coming.”
She stood up and approached him. She was going to advance her cozy revenge. The messenger looked hopeless – it was clear that the game he had proposed could not be played.
“I think it’s time to start my game, sir. You must be punished.”
“What kind of punishment?”
“With your body, of course, sir!”
Keys long forgotten, she bent down and licked his bare chest with her moist tongue, his nipples were so hard and prominent that she couldn’t help but bite one. A strong, salty, sweaty odor emanated from him, and it went straight to Olenya’s nostrils, stoking her desire. This long-awaited game had finally begun.
As she arched her back, her ample breasts hung heavily in front of his eyes, like fresh fruit, and he reached out and grabbed them, weighing them to see how ripe they were. His hands were cold and smooth, stimulating Oleander even more. She let go of his nipples and pressed her mouth to his slightly parted lips. They kissed in ecstasy; the messenger began to run his hands over her breasts, rubbing her nipples, and O’Lingya let out a moan of contentment.
She was mesmerized when the messenger took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked gently, rhythmically. Instinctively, she spread her feet apart and lowered herself. Her hands slid over his shoulders, over his upper body, over his waist, over his stomach, and rested on his thighs.
She kept gently tickling the roots of his thighs with her fingers, then stimulating the sensitive parts around his testicles. His breaths grew short and he sucked harder and harder on her nipple while his other hand rubbed her other nipple urgently. She could hardly tell if she was aroused or in pain.
Finally, unable to resist the urge to make love, she wrapped her fingers around the elastic band of his black silk shorts and began tugging them downward.
“You have not kept your word,” she panted, “and you have not compensated me, sir.”
He makes no stop. Who could stop the will of the charming Aurinia, let alone her begging? He groaned and sat back in his chair as she forcefully pulled his shorts down over his hips. His male markings were revealed.
Mr. Messenger looked so weak and helpless. An ominous omen surrounded him — the shadow of that rasping shadow, the shadow of organization, hung over him.
O’Reillya walked dejectedly into the bathroom and went straight to the dresser, which was filled with foreign imported high quality cosmetics, picked up a small bottle of bath gel and poured some into a small glass dish on the table. The messenger watched with disinterest as she stuck a finger into the lotion, and an extremely uneasy desire arose in his abdomen.
Kneeling between his legs, she held the saucer at the heel of his stomach and tilted it to pour the bath over his belly, letting the liquid form a thin stream that flowed between his belly and femur and onto his erect cock.
“Well, gee …… surely if this is the Fall, the Fall is not a bad thing.” He had wisely reported the girl to the highest council of the organization. She was talented, truly talented. Her deft fingers slid over his sensitive skin again and again, rubbing the bath into his taut, yearning flesh.
O’Lingya had enjoyed it once, and indeed she had learned the technique from that experience – at the boarding school her father had chosen for her, in pursuit of sexual freedom and liberation.
Located on the outskirts of town, the Limehurst Public College for Girls is quite admired by the world. O’Lingya shared a room with aristocrats, movie stars, rock stars, and even the daughters of astronauts. Two hundred and fifty meters away from her school, there was another public school for boys, also under the jurisdiction of Limhurst. No student from either school was allowed to sneak into someone else’s dorm room to fool around without the direct approval of Dr. Ahlton.
Once, on a Wednesday afternoon, the girls were having a class on “Physiology and Growth”, which was essentially a sex education class. Her mind wandered, and she remembered the dance lessons on the school lawn, the sketching and sculpting they had learned in the old house by the lake.
But what she thought about most was the massage lesson that she would never forget. Mixing the bath, applying the mixture precisely to her lover’s abdomen, then smoothing it with her fingers to ease the other’s tension or stimulate his arousal. Aurinia’s now skillful and hot technique made no one dare to match it.
Interestingly, it was from this technique that she learned the first sexual experience she cherished most. In the summer of her sixteenth year, her father was out of the country on a business trip, and she was to spend the entire summer vacation in Limhurst. One hot afternoon, on her way back from a trip to town to buy a few bottles of perfume, she met her new music teacher, Mr. Peterson.
All the fifteen and sixteen year old girls were in love with Mr. Petersen. He was a real man: tall and strong, with sexy shoulders and a muscular, straight body. As well as being a full-time music teacher, he loved to play rugby, cricket and tennis, and insisted on swimming twenty miles every morning before breakfast, and then playing a violin like a god-guarded angel.
O’Lingya always thought she was immune to him. She was in a growth spurt and shouldn’t be having sex with a teacher. On top of that, he didn’t seem to be interested in any of the girls. She had suspected that he was a homosexual, and even more strangely, she had dreamed that he was indeed a homosexual.
On this particular afternoon, meeting Mr. Petersen irritated Olenya more than it excited her. She wanted to be left alone, but he was here, too, and chatted amiably with her. Inexplicably, she agreed to take a walk with him. As she walked, her anger subsided, and she couldn’t help but feel smug: if her female classmates heard about the two of them, they wouldn’t know how jealous they would be.
At first, the walk was so boring that she was downright impatient for an excuse to get back to the village and catch a bus back to school. Gradually, she felt so comfortable with him, especially when he suggested sitting down and resting for a while, which she agreed to without hesitation.
They sat down on the sun-dried, warm grass, the tall, leafy beech trees casting a somber shade. In the distance, several racehorses galloped by, their crisp hooves sounding like O’Linya’s violent heartbeat. Suddenly, she realized that Gensen Petersen was sitting beside her, so close, and was touching her arm with his fingers.
“Thirsty?”
The music teacher opened his canvas bag and took out a bottle of mineral water. Ou Lingya took the bottle gracefully and drank greedily. The water was so cool that the bubbles that rose up were like thousands of tiny needles sharp into her tongue.
As Petersen drank, she watched intently as the knot in his throat wriggled, and couldn’t help but feel an irrepressible excitement develop when she saw his bare, yellow shoulders, muscular thighs and golden, short-sleeved cotton sweatshirt and pressed-pleated white shorts.
After screwing on the cap, he put the bottle down, and then, very neatly, grabbed Ou Lingya’s carry bag.
“What’s in it, huh? I’ve always wondered what you girls carry around in your handbags. What’s in it that’s so heavy?”
“Put it down! Give it back now!”
“Let’s see. Tissues, lipstick, aspirin, empty condom bag. What’s this?”
He picked up the perfume bottle, and O’Lingya’s face turned red with anger.
“You’ve never seen a bath bomb bottle before?”
He unscrewed the cap and brought his nose close to smell the scent of the bath.
“Oh. Musky, orangey, and sweet. This perfume is so wasteful for a bath, Olenya. I think it should come in handy for other purposes.”
He poured a few drops into his hand and reached over to apply it to Ou Lingya’s bare arm. Her heart couldn’t help but quake at such an intimate, intentional touch from him.
“Would you like me to show you how this oil should be used, Oleander?”
She didn’t say anything: there was no need for an answer. Her body sang with excitement at Darus. Petersen’s bold touch sang with excitement as his hand slowly slipped inside her pullover and she collapsed onto the soft leather floor, yielding completely to his will.
He skillfully unbuttoned her corset, pushed it upward, and rubbed her breasts vigorously. The warm, slippery liquid made her nipples stand up, and her boxer shorts were soaked with intense desire.
One of his hands caressed her body, while the other began to undress her. She couldn’t help but feel a slight apprehension: right here, in broad daylight, with pedestrians coming and going, they would surely be seen. But an unspeakable pleasure surrounded her again, and Petersen’s skillful work quickly chased her concerns away, and it was as if her whole world was just the sliding palms and the fingertips that touched her.
He easily removed her dress shorts and she lay stretched out in front of him, naked and in high spirits. Her legs instinctively spread apart as he poured the bath over her stomach and began to massage her pussy.
He slid his fingers between her legs, then wrenched her pussy lips apart and poured a few drops of bath soap into them, and as his fingers continued to massage, she couldn’t suppress the excitement in her heart and lost her voice. The sweet, slippery perfume intoxicated and excited her.
His skillful technique brought her again and again to the realm of ecstasy and intoxication, she could hardly suppress the excitement in her heart and prayed uncontrollably that the pleasure would continue forever, he stroked her body as if he were a master artist creating an elegant work of art, she was so excited that she was in tears, and an agonizing sweetness caused her whole body to wriggle.
“Give it to me, give it to me.”
She pleaded with him for grace with moans of desperate desire. Finally, he opened up to her and began to undress, removing his t-shirt and shorts so he was naked. His body was even more perfect than she had imagined. It was obvious that he had repaired the sweaty hair on his body, and the skin on his body was smooth, round, and showed excellent musculature. But most beautiful of all were his genitals, beautifully shaped and toned, with two small balls underneath, nestled in a smooth, golden scrotum, moody and full, as if ready for sex.
He opened the cap of the perfume bottle and poured some out into his hand, letting them flow slowly into his genitals before rubbing them with his skillful hands.
“Now I want you, O’Reillya, will you?”
“Oh, yes ……” she heard herself gasp. “Now, just ……”
He pressed himself against her.
They were bunched together in the warm sun-drenched grass, and above their heads, a beam of sunlight peeked through a gap in the leafy branches.
A rush of hoofbeats galloped by, as if to have a contest with their violent heartbeats ……
Now, instead, she was in a hotel room in Paris, applying her fine perfume to the sensitive parts of the messenger.
He was the object she used to practice on, yet she herself had a strong desire at this point to be touched, massaged and explored – just like that time on the lawn.
As she was lost in her memories, the messenger suddenly pulled her forward and she fell on top of him. His cock then groped to enter her vagina. She smirked as he yanked hard on the buttons on her panties, she struggled and hoped they wouldn’t come off.
With a ripping sound, the button finally came off and the triangular edge of her pink panties ripped open, revealing her red pussy.
Her bottom was wet, and the key slipped and fell silently to the floor; but they had no time to think about it. Neither one of them was interested in thinking about that game anymore.
He wrapped his arms around her so that he could get his manhood between her moist, hot legs.
“Take me!” Olenya sipped loudly. His perfumed cock was already deep inside her.
“Take me, no, don’t stop ……”
……
Chapter VII
“This could get me into a lot of trouble,” the messenger said, before knotting his tie and pulling on his suit. “I must return to my office; I have been enjoying myself with you all day and night, and I hope no one has noticed my whereabouts. This dishonor will only delay our business.”
O’Lingya smiled and curled up on the bed like a cat.
“What’s the rush? We can still stay all day today.”
“I know you want to be the first female member of the organization.”
“Yes, of course; but ……”
“Then you must accept this task for today.”
He opened his briefcase and removed a card.
“You have performed satisfactorily up to this point, Ms. O’Lingaye. I myself appreciate your full enthusiasm. But the organization has set some challenging tasks for you to complete to test your abilities.”
He handed the card to Olenya, who read it with interest, “Today, you must use both your sex appeal and develop a spirit of boldness,” the card went on to say “You have to bring a porcelain statue to the St. Marie’s art gallery and sell it to the owner of the art gallery, whom you must convince by all means.”
O’Lingya smiled at the messenger.
“The challenge was less daunting,” she declared. “I’m a witty, sophisticated salesman. I can sell art to anyone – as long as it’s worth buying.”
The messenger raised his hand to restrain her.
“That’s not to be doubted,” he agreed. “You’re a very sophisticated saleswoman, and this thing you’re trying to sell is a gem – I dare say the only gem. But there are two essential facts you must bear in mind. First, this porcelain statue has a definite erotic component. Second, St. Marie’s art gallery buys and exhibits works of a merely religious nature, and the owner of the gallery, Mr. Testi, is a Christian clergyman.”
After breakfast and a short stroll through the stores, O’Lingya went to Joshimu’s studio, where she found him busy tidying up the paintings for shipment to England.
“Do you think I should send these paintings, or some of them? I really don’t know which ones should go into the exhibition. Sometimes I think none of them are good, and that I really ought to burn them all! What shall I do, O’Lingaye?” He threw up his hands in sorrowful indignation, and then pounded them heavily on the old sofa.
O’Lingya took a look at the extremely frustrated Joshimu and laughed out loud, “Our painters have much the same problem as you do, the vast majority of them would be hard pressed to find half a dozen paintings that they could exhibit. You, however, have many dozen! Did you know that a painter I know once abandoned his entire year’s worth of work out the window and burned them in a fire in his back garden!”
She kissed Joshimu tenderly and sat on his lap, stroking his blonde wavy hair.
“Isn’t there any way to calm you down?”
“Well ……,” he smiled wryly, then kissed her back and placed his painterly hands on her pale blue miniskirt. “I’ll take you up on that.”
O’Linya took off her silk undershirt and Joshimu was on her in a flash, kissing her bare breasts and groping her hips.
His passionate exuberance was exactly what she needed, and an indescribable feeling overflowed her body as she went limp in his arms. Joshimu was different; if he left her for London, she’d go crazy thinking about him. But right now, she didn’t want to think about tomorrow, she just wanted to revel in the joy of the moment. He was so young, so fit, and so passionate, and she laughed out loud with delight when he picked her up and walked her into his little bedroom.
The sheets were dirty and wrinkled, but Olenya didn’t care about that, all she wanted to feel was the fire-like passion of this young man. As he kissed her, she removed his shirt and he wrestled himself out of his jeans, eager to make love to her.
He tried to press himself against her and enter her without going through the caressing stage, but Olenya rolled him off.
“That would feel even better …… for both of us.”
“But I want you right now, Olenya. I want you so badly.”
“I want you too, Joshimu. But I don’t just want you like you did that time at eleven o’clock in the Rodolphe Café, I want you to stimulate me slowly, Joshimu. Real love, here-touch here.”
She took his hand and guided him.
“Kiss me here, Joshimu, and turn me on.”
He got on top of her and parted her pussy lips with his soft fingers. He stuck out his tongue, a little hesitantly at first, then finally kissed her frantically. As he licked her, her fingers tightened around his hair, then slid heavily down his smooth spine, leaving red fingerprints.
“My dear,” she said sharply. “My dear Joshimu.”
And then it all happened. She felt her cunt open wide, like an orchid that blooms only once in a hundred years.
“I’m getting excited!” She called out.
He cried out a little as she rolled up and mounted him. He let out a cry of pain as she pulled out his beautifully erect genitals and plunged them into his hot, wet body.
……
Finally, they lay tiredly in Joshimu’s bed, listening to each other’s breathing, and the noises coming from the street.
“I have to go in a little while,” O’Lingya said while stroking Joshimu’s ear. “You know …… I have business.”
“No, don’t say that. Why can’t you stay here? Baby? Why did you leave me?”
“Simply because I have something very important to do.”
“So you think I’m not important?”
“Of course you’re important, but ……”
“Then stay here, Olenya. I want to make love to you again.”
She admonished herself for having to be cruel and then kissed him silently. She slid out of bed and began to put on her clothes. How she wanted to tell him the truth about her, how she wanted to ask for his help. But she still couldn’t tell him the reason she had come to Paris.
O’Linya turned an intersection onto Keller Road, passing a sliver of milliwatt stores. The china statue was much sounder than she had expected, and she clutched the box containing it tightly, trying not to think of the dire consequences of it falling onto the road.
The St. Mary’s Art Gallery was located between a high fashion store and a religious bookstore. Marie’s Art Gallery was located between a high fashion store and a religious bookstore, and as she walked towards it, O’Reillya’s heart sank. She glanced at it, and true to what the messenger had said, every item on display in the window had a religious theme; she saw some portraits of religious icons, and some sculptures of religious aspects, as well as a pair of Christian rosary beads. Why on earth would Mr. Testi want a porcelain sculpture?
However, a challenge was a challenge after all, and O’Lingya guessed that he must have his own agenda. Perhaps once she walked into this private art gallery, everything became clear.
She rang the doorbell and an old woman’s voice came over the buzzer, “Who is this, please?”
“Ms. O’Lingya.” O’Lingya replied. “I have a very nice piece of china I would like to show your gentleman.”
The buzzer sounded and Ou Lingya pushed open the door and walked in. The house was full of ancient colors. A woman dressed in all black and brown shuffled out of the shadows.
“Miss?”
“I would like to see Mr. Testi. I have something I want to show him.”
“Mister is a busy man, maybe you can show me that thing ……?”
Olenya clutched the case tightly, there was no way she was going to hand over her “Venus of Victory” to this old woman who was all business.
“Oh …… no, thank you, ma’am. Only if the gentleman sees it himself, it’s very important. I’ve been carrying it with me all the way from London, you know.”
“Very well. I’ll ask him for you, but I can’t guarantee he’ll agree to see you.”
Relieved that the old woman hadn’t insisted on seeing its contents, O’Linya hobbled into a house at the back. She returned five minutes later with a tall, middle-aged cleric with dark curly hair and horn-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The old woman walked away curtly and disappeared into the back of the house, shutting the door quietly behind her as she went.
“I believe you have something you’d like to show me, miss?”
O’Lingya swallowed hard.
“I …… that’s …… yes, it’s a porcelain statue. That is to say, a rather interesting porcelain piebald – a little-known eighteenth-century item from the Mason Porcelain Factory.”
She opened the lid of the box, brushed away the shredded paper, and pulled out the porcelain sculpture, which sat on a glowing red hardwood base. Immediately, she froze in embarrassment. How could she have been so stupid as to bring such an obscene object into this religious art gallery?
She placed the porcelain sculpture on the table and stepped back. There was no doubt that the porcelain daisy was extremely obscene, depicting the image of a naked man kneeling in front of a naked woman with his tongue out licking her pussy. Meanwhile, a fierce woman stands behind the man, holding a whip ready to strike his long-bloodied backside.
The gentleman’s mouth fell open, staring at the porcelain sculpture in surprise, and there was a tense silence as Olenya considered how to deal with the situation.
“Well …… oh.” He took off his glasses, wiped them on his sleeve, and then stared quizzically at Ou Lingya. “But, young lady, what makes you imagine that I would enjoy looking at such …… sculptures? I believe you saw that this is a display of the artistic side of religion.”
O’Lingya mumbled, yet she was not to be outdone.
“I’ve heard you have some personal hobbies.”
The statement seemed like a dark arrow, but it provoked an intriguing response.
“I understand.” He stole a glance behind him and opened the door to a back room. Then he walked to the front door and glanced out, then turned back to the “treasure” on the table and said, “This is by no means the kind of work I would normally consider appropriate for this museum, however, it is an exception, and perhaps we should speak privately. Please come with me, I have some personal collections downstairs in the basement.”
He pulled on the wall sconce, and O’Lingya saw a staircase that zigzagged to the basement. She immediately snapped out of it, but she cautioned herself to remain careful for the best. She took the first step with confidence and followed Mr. Testi into the darkness.
They passed through several doors to the basement. Only when all the doors were closed did the cleric pull the light. Suddenly, a thought flashed through O’Lingya’s mind, choosing this place, where the cleric could easily imprison her, alone to admire this piebald sculpture from the Mason factory, and where no one would know what was happening to her, except of course for the Great Love Demon Organization.
“Please place this ‘painting of the living’ on the table, I would like to study it carefully.”
O’Lingya did as he was told, and the cleric studied him for a long time with a magnifying glass. But Olingya wasn’t looking at him; she was surveying the basement, which seemed to hide some secret. A row of glass cases lined the walls, the fronts of which were covered by blue velvet curtains.
“This is a great piece of work,” the cleric said as he looked at the sculpture, taking away his magnifying glass. “And subtly crafted too, look how meticulously the blood on the man’s back has been carved, it’s a winning detail. It’s just that such a non-religious piece …… I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about its appeal to a person, like me.”
Without answering, O’Lingya turned to the column of boxes sitting in the shadows.
“No, miss, I forbid you to look at it!”
But she didn’t even listen to that from him, and pulled back the curtain to reveal the first box. Inside lay a long leather whip, speckled with what Orinia realized at once was dried blood. She turned and glanced questioningly at Mr. Testi. He was standing just to her side.
“It was used by Loyala himself, Ms. O’Linya. The whip is stained with his own sacred blood. Is it not a marvelous sight? Is it not a powerful warning to a guilty man who stands before it?”
He led her to a box below.
“These arrows were used to torture Agonis’ body. You understand, my lady, that without pain there can be no penance. In order to receive punishment, one must first sin. If we want to try the incomparable joys of asceticism, then we must first sin.”
“But isn’t that ……?”
“Oh, my lady. I am at Rasputin’s divine behest.”
She stared into his eyes in panic; she saw madness and obsession. Couldn’t she get out of it?
He took the whip out of its case and, while stroking it with his long, artist’s fingers, stared intently at the porcelain daisy, “Venus Victory,” as if longing for something.
Aurinia tried desperately not to panic. She had been sent here by the organization to conquer him with her sex appeal, not to succumb to the calculations of this inexplicable cleric. No matter what happened, she would not willingly accept the punishment of this whip.
Suddenly, she grabbed the whip unawares, and the handle fit surprisingly well in her hand. She shook the whip triumphantly, and it made a loud “kaboom, kaboom” sound.
Mr. Testi stared at her angrily and stood there motionless, as if nailed down. O’Lingya seized the moment and was ready to put on her show.
“Sinner!” She called out. “Get down on your knees yet, you miserable, guilty impudent. I’m going to watch you crawl on the ground, and I’m going to listen to you beg for forgiveness.”
With a whimper of sorrow and joy, the cleric fell to his knees with a thud.
“I said get down!” O’Lingya ordered. “Get down on the floor in five pieces, like a dirty sinner. I want to see the filth on your mouth.”
The cleric slumped to the ground, his face buried in the ground as Olingya savagely whipped his shoulders with the braid.
“Now crawl for me, sinner! Stick to the ground and crawl!”
The cleric didn’t dare to disobey her order, he groaned and began to squirm hard on the dirty and damp ground. As he crawled, he took a whipping from Olenya.
One lap, two laps, she made him crawl around the basement until finally she got tired of the game herself and she gave up. She decided to give him a new punishment.
In the middle of the basement stood a prayer tablet of God. The cushion used for kneeling was not an ordinary cushion; it was covered with two rows of nails. On the crossbar at the top of the tablets hung a heavy shackle with a chain.
Now that was all right in front of their eyes, and even more dramatically, the key used to unlock the shackles was in the shackles!
“Crawl to the futon. You must be punished for the sinful desires of your heart. How else can you obtain God’s forgiveness for you when you are in heaven?”
The unfortunate cleric did her bidding, with more longing than pain in his heart. Olenya commanded him with interest. He crawled toward the futon mat and she pulled him up and ordered him to kneel on the two rows of nails. She knew the nails under his knees didn’t give him a good feeling, and it seemed to irritate her as well. Never before had she dominated a man’s pain and pleasure like this.
She placed the shackles on the cleric’s wrists and locked them. He did not resist in the slightest, and it was clear that Olenya’s suspicion that he had been moved to evil thoughts was entirely correct. He was happy to accept this punishment, he was a very horny man and he didn’t want to stop committing this sin that could be redeemed by accepting punishment. Well then, Ou Lingya didn’t want to disappoint him either.
She stepped back and gave her victim a long, stern stare. He looked extremely uncomfortable, even a little embarrassed, but there was no sign of extreme pain. She gazed deeply into his eyes, and she saw just a hint of lechery, of a desire that was anxious to be satisfied. Well, pain must be endured before the desire could be satisfied; God’s forgiveness could only be obtained by enduring the torments of hell.
The other glass case held a gleaming, sharp knife. O’Lingya used it to cut open his clothes and flicked the tip of the knife across his skin with reckless abandon, and she was sure Mr. Testi saw and felt it all. But Aurinia was still in control of him, reveling in every ounce of pleasure her prowess brought.
A final cut slashed the last threads of his robe, and Olenya saw that the cleric was wearing a cotton shirt underneath, which she removed. She realized that if she wanted to irritate him and enslave him, she would have to use her mind more.
She rubbed the whip against him, which aroused his pain and desire as she teased him without mercy. As the whip rubbed against him, his cock became straighter and straighter, seemingly begging for her.
“First comes the crime, then comes the suffering for forgiveness.” O’Lingya said eagerly.
“Have mercy on me!” The clergyman’s voice had changed pitch, was no longer so resonant; he was almost moaning.
O’Lingya scorned the weak-minded hypocrite with disdain.
“I’m not going to pity you,” she barked. “I’m going to see just how deep a sin you can commit.”
She took off her jacket and slung it over the back of a clean chair, her eyes resting on the porcelain sculpture on the table. A serious collector, this Mr. Testi, Olenya mused, who was so concerned about his collection that he even made sure none of it was damaged. In the basement, the air conditioner hummed as it provided good air for the art treasures.
The “Venus of Victory” was glowing like fire. It was as if Olenya saw her rubbing the end of the whip against his bleeding back again and again. “His eyes were filled with a strange pain and desire, he pressed his lips to her pussy, and she “She shuddered and allowed his tongue to reach the most mysterious place inside her. Ou Lingya couldn’t help but throw back her head and laugh as she fantasized about the scene.
A thought slowly arose in her mind and she proceeded to undress again. The cleric groaned in agony, and gradually, bit by bit, her beautiful torso was exposed to his eyes. He fought to reach out his hand to caress her gold-smooth skin; but he was restrained by the shackles, he was her captive, and this helpless captive was tormented by lust.
Slowly, one by one, she unbuttoned her short shirt. There seemed to be a lot of buttons, a dozen. The semi-transparent short shirt was wrapped tightly around her body, just like her skin. With the short shirt undone, her upper body was completely exposed.
“My goddess ……,” groaned Mr. Testi.
“Be quiet!”
She stopped him with the whip, which struck him on the shoulder, not too hard, but hard enough to surprise and shake him. He stared at her in anger and fear.
“Not making a sound? Do you understand? I won’t say a word, no matter what I do or how much it hurts. Or out loud it’s you, not me.”
She took off her short shirt and folded it, placing it on the backrest of the chair as well. Excitement filled her entire body and tormented the clueless man. He was like a dog waiting for the fulfillment of his desires.
Then she unhooked her bra, revealing her full, firm, brown breasts. I wondered how he would react if he saw her equally brown belly and ass, and she smiled quietly at the thought.
She unbuttoned and unzipped her light blue miniskirt. She wiggled her hips and wrestled off the mini-skirt that was stretched tightly over her hips, then folded it and placed it on the backrest of the chair as well.
Now all that was left of her was a pair of shorts, a pair of shoes and a pair of stockings. She walked toward the futon mat and stood a few inches away from it, just enough so that he could not construct her. He struggled, longing to touch her, kiss her, caress her; but she wouldn’t let him, and she loved the feeling.
“You spare me,” he begged.
“No!”
The whip lashed him again on his naked body, and this time, his shoulders and back were reddened. He let out a long moan and closed his eyes in pain, but his cock was still straight and glowing, and Olenya couldn’t help but want to kiss it.
In fact, while she was doing so, she was suffering herself. In order to accomplish her task, she would have to keep teasing him.
Finally, she moved forward a few steps so that the small of her back could be pressed against Testi’s face. Then she reached her hands down to her shorts and pulled them down slowly, revealing bare, light brown skin.
She stomped off her shorts, then pressed her wet pussy against the cleric’s face. The cleric opened his eyes and glanced with her, and Olenya was surprised to find him crying. Large teardrops dripped down his cheeks, it was all sinful and yet so seductive.
Aurinia bent down and lifted his lower jaw, making him look into her angry green eyes.
“Kiss me and tease me,” she ordered him. “Show me how you sin. You’d better be serious.” She added, “Or you will be punished more severely.”
She pressed her pussy against Testy’s face, then parted her labia with her hands to let his tongue in. He did as he was told, so eager, so hungry.
He was sophisticated and naturally knew that trick of making love. She was excited, but then she had to force herself to be calmer.
“Oh, oh …… no! Hurry up! You miserable wretch. Watch out or I’ll skin you!”
He obeyed her every command like a little boy. He pleases this beautiful young “teacher” who takes him to a whole new world he has never been to before. ……
O’Lingya was so tormented by desire that it was almost unbearable. She wanted to scream, to sing, to cry, but she had to enjoy it as quietly as he did.
“Deeper, faster. I command you!”
Tristi’s tongue licked her even more frantically, and she knew that she couldn’t control it any longer, so she clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. Olenya forced herself to be calm as she watched the frenzied Tristi, a wave of pleasure came over her, blinding her.
As the burst of pleasure slowly subsided, she lowered her head to see Tristi staring at her dead in the face – thirsting for her.
She walked away, the mucus from her bodily secretions still lingering on his lower jaw.
“Nasty bastard!” She yelled, then picked up the whip and lashed him on both shoulders again. “Is this how you do penance? I’ll see to it that you are taught what true penance is.” She knelt down and brought her face to his lids, his forehead covered with beads of sweat, his hair wet with sweat and hitching and pulling on his forehead. “You say you’re guilty? Asshole!”
“Yes, I’m guilty, ma’am.”
“What is your crime? Confess to me, asshole!”
“I …… have committed adultery, I have moved to evil thoughts, and I deserve to be punished.”
“So how do we punish you? What kind of penance shall you undergo?” It was a question she could hardly have asked, for she already knew how he would answer.
He lowered his head and she saw him trembling as he answered her in a hoarse voice in sincere panic, “I will undergo physical torture as God’s punishment for me and as I deserve. You must torture the part of my body that sinned – purify it through pain and humiliation.”
A smug sneer hung at the corner of her mouth. So, this cleric who liked to collect artwork was indeed a moralistic fellow, she guessed correctly. Well, let’s satisfy him, after all, he brought him physical pleasure as well.
She stepped behind him and raised the whip, this time with all her might, and brought it down hard on his bare back. He cried out in pain, but Olenya stopped him with a stern voice. He clenched the back of his hand, enduring the pain, which at the same time brought him pleasure.
The whip lashed at him again and again as O’Lingya became more and more aroused. She swung the whip with one hand and the other reached between her legs, rubbing her pussy as she reached another peak of pleasure.
Testi tossed and turned in agony to the point of growing agitated. Seeing his straightening genitals thirsting for her, Olenya began to whip his hips, the tip of the whip, which danced like a snake, reaching just between his two thighs and touching his genitals.
“Give in to the pain!”
Finally, Tristi was so tormented that he couldn’t help but let out a howl of agonized fury, and a long string of white cum shot out of the end of his cock, landing in a creamy white puddle on the floor. All of this pleasured Olenya, she pleasured herself as she reached another peak of pleasure.
She lowered her head to look at Tristi, who knelt dejectedly on the futon mat, shivering and agonizing for hours. After a while, he opened his eyes.
“Now you can let me go, miss, and it’s time for you to rest for a while.”
O’Lingya puffed and laughed.
“Not so fast, Mr. Testi. There is another little matter about the ‘Venus of Victory.’ I would very much like to see it displayed in the St. Marie’s art gallery window.”
“But we are a display of religious artifacts here, ma’am. There’s no way I’m going to do that, maybe I could buy it for my private collection, but not for an art gallery! NO! This is incredible!”
“What a pity!” O’Lingya exclaimed. “I originally thought you were a reasonable man. Now it seems I will have to resort to other means.” She turned to the basement door and said, “Now come in, Joshimu!”
The door was pushed open and a man’s profile appeared in the doorway, once, twice, and the blinding flash flashed twelve times in one breath.
“Mr. Joshimu is an excellent photographer,” O’Lingya explained with a smile. “I’m sure these pictures will be enlarged. And, of course, the newspapers and magazines will be interested in publishing this set of photographs of the private life of a Christian clergyman.”
“No, ma’am, you can’t do that!”
“Oh, but I can do that, sir. And I will do it-if you don’t agree to buy the ‘Venus of Victory’ at once, and display it in the St. Mary’s Art Gallery window. Sir, it is too easy to make that choice. You will either be slightly embarrassed, or you will be well disgraced.”
There was a brief silence.
“Well, ma’am,” he said “I have no choice but to accept your request. You are a very persuasive person. But you must promise …… photographs and negatives ……”
“They will be returned to you as soon as you exhibit the porcelain sculptures.” Ou Lingya promised. “I’m as good as my word, and so is Joshimu.”
She nodded at Joshimu and he backed out. O’Lingya heard his footsteps disappear out the door until they were out of earshot, and she hated that Gao had helped her with him-because she’d told him to just listen to her and not give away her whereabouts.
She released the cleric and watched as he picked up a black robe and hastily draped it over his body.
“I’ll be back this afternoon, sir,” O’Lingaye said, as she put on her clothes and then turned to prepare to leave. “If I were you, I’d do everything I’m told. Of course, if you don’t do as you’re told I won’t force you, you’ll be responsible for the consequences.”
With that, she lifted her foot and disappeared into the hallway leading to the showroom, leaving the punished Mr. Testi behind.
Chapter VIII
After spending two hours in the Great Museum, O’Lingya and Joshimu were so envious of Vatilius and Flannery that they decided to find a place to have some fun.
“Believe it or not, I’ve never done anything like this before!” O’Lingya said with a smile. They avoided the watchful eyes of the art museum administrator and slipped into the men’s restroom.
“Don’t be afraid,” said Joshimu, soothingly, pushing O’Lingya into a compartment and plugging in the plug. “I–how do you say–wasted my youth! When you’re a penniless, poor scholar, and there’s nowhere else to go …… Oh, you find ways and means to make a living. I’ve done it like this several times, and it’s guaranteed to be okay!”
“You did it, really?” O’Linya asked with gusto as Joshimo pressed her tightly against the wall. Glad no one else had come to the bathroom. “We’re kind of like wannabes, aren’t we?”
He sort of answered with a silent kiss as she began to unbutton his jeans and slipped her hand down them to stroke his manhood.
“I want you, darling,” he gasped, holding her close. “Want it now.”
“I want you, too,” she murmured. “But I don’t know what we’re going to do-” He gagged her with a kiss and ran his hands over her body encased in a tight cotton shirt and tight skirt.
“Watching you torture that horny old priest …… watching him lick you all over …… that was the funniest thing I ever saw. Where did you learn to do that sort of thing, Miss O’Lingard? Is that what you were taught in the public schools of England?”
She let out a giggle and began to gently stroke his balls while her other hand slipped between his legs and squeezed his scrotum.
“I have worshipped many masters, sweetheart, a thousand times over. I will be your master if you wish.”
“But O’Lingya, why did you go into the basement with him? And why did you want me to take those pictures? You never explained that to me.”
“No comment, Joshimu. But not necessarily. If they fix the problem like I told them to, maybe, I’ll tell you everything, I promise.” She kissed him back and squeezed his prick hard. “Now, let’s put this behind us, shall we? Why don’t we have some fun?”
“Okay, honey.” Joshimu whispered. “No matter what, you’re going to give me an explanation ……” he gathered her close, “and let me have you. Now, I can’t wait a moment!”
He turned to sit on the flush toilet and pulled his jeans down to his knees.
“Sit on my lap, Olenya. Let me come inside you.”
She sat down low and touched it to his upturned balls, which then quickly plunged into her pussy lips and continued deeper inward until it finally rested against her cervix.
“Come on, honey,” Joshimu panted. Olenya then moved up and down to change positions, supported by Joshimu’s arm, which was resting on her waist. She knew she had to keep quiet or someone would realize what was going on in the cubicle. But she couldn’t stop, he was entering it. She couldn’t help but be amazed that this young, inexperienced artist could have the animal-like passion that stimulated and infected her emotions at times.
Joshimu’s fingers slid up and around O’Lingya’s legs ask, bringing her to the peak of extreme agony. She struggled even more to maintain absolute tranquility. Just then, Joshimu groaned cozily as his penis impaled her.
They stayed like that for a long time holding each other; both looking forward to continuing to stay here and doing it all over again.
“I must go,” O’Lingya gasped as she made up her mind decisively. After all, she had trials to deal with.
“I really have to go. I said I’d be back at the art gallery this afternoon.”
With a hundred and twenty thousand reluctance, they separated, each straightening the clothes on their bodies. Ou Lingya looked at Qiao Ximu’s young and charming body and sighed helplessly. It would be good if there was still time. But as an organizational elite, one shouldn’t be distracted from the real goal.
“Can I join you at the art museum? He might hurt you.” Joshimu fastened his belt and picked up his coarse cotton blouse from the floor.
“I …… don’t. That’s very kind of you, baby. You better not go.” She suddenly realized she could get in trouble for telling him mostly. If she revealed the truth about her membership in the organization, then the outcome would be unthinkable. It might even involve Joshimu, and she turned her face toward him and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
Joshimu looked at her worriedly, “Sure?”
“With certainty. Now, how am I supposed to get out of here before someone finds out?”
“That’s good.”
Joshimu pushed open the door to the toilet cubicle and stumbled upon two hooligans in a state of arousal. One of them was touching the crotch of his dirty, dirty jeans. It wasn’t hard to see what they were both up to.
“What a wonderful scene,” the other boy said, unzipping the front of his jeans.
“Yeah,” his companion agreed. “She’s not so bad. Come on, have some fun with us too, honey?” With that, he reached out and squeezed Aurelia’s breasts, so hard that Aurelia flinched backward in pain.
Enraged, Joshimu rushed forward and punched the green-haired little afro hard in the jaw. But soon he received a heavy blow to the back of his head, which turned out to be another young hoodlum standing behind Joshimu, trying to free his accomplice.
“Stop it!” Ou Lingya was furious, but no one paid any attention to her. “Enough!”
She suddenly remembered that at the Limehurst School for Girls, the school administration had offered self-defense classes to the upperclassmen. So a backhand followed by a swift kick to the green-haired hooligan’s lower jaw. The kid’s body spun around and fell to the restroom floor. With his back against the wall, he tried to struggle to his feet, but soon slumped heavily again, a puzzled look on his pimple-covered face.
“God forbid, Joshimu!” O’Lingya urged, as Joshimu’s fists still rained down on the other hooligan, the guy weakly holding his white arm over his face. Before anyone heard and got here, O’Lingya slipped out of the restroom, dragging Joshimu with her. They walked into the museum through the back door. Not a single person noticed them hooking up as they made their way through the exhibit hall and out the main museum doors.
O’Lingya told Joshimu to wait outside the glass tower of the big museum and went herself to the St. Mary’s Art Gallery, where the searing afternoon sun baked her back and she was sweating profusely in no time. She thought how nice it would be to have Joshimu beside her at this point, licking the sweat off of her, or maybe it would be interesting to be able to lick the sweat off of Joshimu’s smooth body herself.
The St. Mary’s Art Gallery is there. Marie’s art gallery was there, and the fine china was still gleaming in the showroom, or had Mr. Testi betrayed his trust and sold it? She kept praying that she would succeed – if she failed this time, she would be completely separated from the organization, and her dream of many years would be in vain.
She stood still in front of the showroom window, hardly daring to open her eyes. Scanning the display quickly, her heart began to sink. There was no china on display and no sign labeled “Venus of Victory.”
She looked again, and the three fine handmade china pieces were surprisingly at the far end of the window. A man had his head buried in the body of a blonde, white-haired, courtesan girl, his eyes closed in ecstasy while a smug Venus lashed his back with a whip. Olenya couldn’t help but laugh as she read the words on the sign in front of her. It read, “The evils of lechery.”
The next morning, the messenger arrived a little earlier than usual, and he raised his hand to knock on the door of O’Lingya’s room.
“Come in.”
He pushed the door open and stepped in, finding the room empty.
“I’m here,” Oleander shouted from the bathroom.
“Ah, I …… uh …… I’ll meet you outside, okay?”
O’Lingya let out a loud laugh.
“Don’t be so old-fashioned. What secrets have we kept from each other since that day? Just come in.”
O’Lingya was in a tub bath, the aroma surrounding her, her body piled high with bubbles. Her hidden body was enough to incite any man who passed by to lust. Mr. Messenger was not immune to this, and he had to turn his face away as Aurinnea began to wash the foam off her body.
“Have a drink, dear.” Olenya said, pointing to a bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. “It’s just been chilled, and there’s some caviar if you’re hungry.”
“Well, it’s a little early, but why not eat?” The messenger poured himself a glass of champagne and pulled out another cracker with caviar spread on it. “By the way, what are you celebrating?”
“What else is there for me to celebrate?” Olenya asked rhetorically, “I like champagne and caviar. And I think Mr. Joshimu and I did a great job.”
“Doesn’t include braving two hooligans in the men’s restroom of a large museum, does it?” The messenger muttered, filling the same mouth with cookies.
“You should know that enthusiasm is essential for a promising Great Love Demon Elite, but you should also be careful as well. Otherwise, you’ll lead to trouble.”
“I know how to hold myself,” O’Lingya shot back. “Living as I please is what I’m all about. I’m proud of my independent life, and of course I take responsibility for it.” She sipped her champagne and stretched her limbs in the tub. “By the way, what does a boy as brilliant as you do in the organization? Surely you should be a high ranking figure!”
The messenger shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Oleander, I can’t tell you about the organization unless you become a full member. If I were you,” he added, “I would learn to be more careful. That boyfriend of yours …… Joshimu, isn’t it? Well, you really shouldn’t have accepted his help on your last mission.”
“I didn’t tell him anything. Can’t I even pretend to be a crazy little girl?” Ou Lingzhi pouted in exasperation.
The messenger looked grave and said nothing.
“Look, Olenya.” He slipped a finger into the foam and rested it on her ample breast, and she shuddered with excitement. “You’re a very strong candidate, but you don’t realize the danger you’re in. You are playing with fire! Didn’t your father ever preach that?”
“He only spoke of organizations he knew; he really looked forward to being a part of them.”
“But in reality …… Ou Lingya, you have to know that the organization is ruthless to those who threaten its interests. Capriciousness leads to failure, you know, and that requires leaving one’s home country; and capriciousness reveals secrets ……”
Ou Lingya’s eyes widened in alarm. For the first time, she felt distracted.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying, O’Lingya, if you value your life, don’t do anything to jeopardize the organization’s safety and interests. Remember my words and don’t take these tests rashly.”
He finished the last sip of champagne and set the glass on the floor. Then pulls an envelope from his briefcase.
“Are you ready for today’s mission, dear?”
O’Lingya took the envelope and tore it open, anxious as to what would be written inside. It contained a silver card and nothing else. The card read:
Congratulations on victory after victory, Olenya. You have succeeded beyond our expectations and you are a credit to your father.
Your task today is to provide a service. At eight o’clock in the evening, a stranger will come to your room. There will be others in quick succession – that is, one guest every hour for ten hours after eight o’clock. No matter how demanding they may be, you must satisfy them. If you can’t do that, consider yourself a failure in this test.
“You must spend today’s day preparing for this ordeal.” The messenger said. “Make the most of it. This evening is sure to hate grueling, so don’t expend too much energy. I suggest you avoid all sexual activity until this evening.”
“Don’t worry – I’ll prepare properly,” O’Lingya said firmly. “No matter how difficult the task is, I will accomplish it victoriously.”
After the messenger left, Ou Lingya sat in her room, savoring what he had said. How should she prepare for the task at hand? Should she take a good rest for the day, or should she go outside and find something to do to forget about tonight’s mission for the time being, a whole day without sex would be tasteless. But if it was in the interest of her success ……
Her hand naturally came across her father’s old, worn old journal again, and she eagerly took it over and unlocked the little lock, hoping to get some encouragement from it. Turning the back page, all that was written was a few years old.
Wednesday, April 8, Today I waited for several hours without any news, so I followed the instructions and went to the coffee house of AL. Akheem, but no one came to contact me. I therefore concluded that I had failed in the test and that there was no need for the organization to inform me.
In desperation, I decided to return to Penson. On the way, while walking on a narrow sidewalk, I was stopped by an old Arab woman wearing a thick veil, who told me she had “many beautiful daughters”. I was discouraged and looking for some physical stimulation when she pleaded with me again and again, so I agreed to go with her to her house. I thought I had nothing left to lose.
Picking open the beaded curtains and entering the room, I found myself as if I were in the inner courtyard of a richly decorated and elegant oriental palace. The walls are hung with colorful tapestries, Zhui carved with exquisite, intricate screen will be separated from room to room, which adds to the beauty and mystery of the women in the boudoir. To my further surprise, they were indeed beautiful. However, I soon realized that I was surrounded by twelve raven-haired beauties who were gazing at me with excited, fiery eyes.
“My daughters are eager to be caressed,” the old woman told me. “Their husbands are out of town and they want a fit, energetic young man to satisfy them.” She laid her hands on me to try my muscles for firmness, and even pressed her fingers between my legs to see if my testicles were large, “Well, not bad,” she declared to her daughters, “Go and make merry with him.”
If this were a purely boudoir, I would have enjoyed it to my heart’s content. But to my surprise, the “daughters” in the room pushed me to the ground like a bunch of hungry vampires. They stripped me of my clothes, ran their hands over my body, licked my skin with their tongues, and squeezed my balls with their cold hands.
I had to make love to them one after the other, as they strongly requested me to do so. By the time they claimed to be satisfied, I was exhausted. They asked me to kiss each of them and to make love to them all over again.
Finally, they stopped. I turned to the old woman, thinking that I could now be allowed to get dressed and leave the room. To my great alarm, however, I turned to see a Negro with a short sword guarding the only exit from the room.
“Ma’am!” I exclaimed, “I’ll pay whatever you want if you want money. For I have spent a happy time in your ‘daughter’s’ boudoir.”
But the old woman gave a horrible laugh, “This is not a place where one may dishonor one’s name at will.” She said to me, “This is the harem of the Sultan, and they are his wives; and he will be furious if he finds out that you have taken advantage of his absence to have pleasure with his wives. I am the Sultan’s mother. He believes anything I say. Ebdo is here as his master’s escort. Do you want me to hand you over to him?”
“No!” I hissed. “Then what do I do?”
“The answer is simple.” She replied. Through the veil I wore, I could see her small black eyes shining brightly, like those of a canary. “You must make me happy – or die. The choice is yours.”
Faced with this difficult choice, I knew what I had to do; here and now, on the carpeted floor of the Sultan’s harem, I began to make passionate love to this ugly, dried up old woman. She sucked what little energy was left in my body, and finally, I felt like I was going to collapse. That’s when she showed her compassion.
“You are a charming devil, heathen,” she said to me, as she put on her veil again. “Because you have fulfilled my wishes and those of my beautiful daughter-in-law, I am going to have mercy on you, and you may leave this house alive.”
“But mark my words. Five minutes after you leave, Alberto will chase you all the way downtown on Main Street. If he catches you, he will kill you, and he has that right. For it is you who have dishonored the Sultan’s wife and his mother.”
I was too frightened to speak; what was I to do? I drew up my legs and ran desperately, and every moment it seemed as if I could hear the footsteps of Abdo, and the whirring of the belt knife.
When I finally reached the relative safety of Penson. Law Retreat Monte, I found a guest waiting for me in my room. He was the messenger I had waited for so anxiously at the Coffee House in Arkham, AL.
“Congratulations, sir,” he said, “you have passed the fifth test.”
O’Lingya closed her diary and sat in silence. She wondered just what kind of things would happen tonight. Would she be able to catch up with her father’s energy and skill? Would she be in danger?
She lay lazily on her bed, listening to the hustle and bustle of the street outside. “Rest well,” the messenger told her, “and get your strength up to deal with what lies ahead.” But what was she to do? She was in a state of arousal, and if she continued to indulge, she would not have the energy for tonight’s ordeal.
Maybe she should find something to do. In Quartier. Radin, she had so many galleries to visit; and afterward, she could visit Joshimu’s studio. Just to talk business, of course.
Just then, a crisp ringing of the phone disturbed her thoughts and pulled her back from her fantasies. She picked up the desk phone, “Hello!”
“O’Reillya, honey! Long time no see!”
“Caroline? What are you doing in Paris?”
“The orchestra is on tour in Europe, and this stop is in Paris. I’m going to organize a strike against those shameless industrialists who want to be show hosts. I’m getting bored, my dear, and I’d really like a few days’ vacation.”
“Why don’t we go for coffee?” O’Lingya suggested. She was thinking of Caroline’s drinking. She wasn’t willing to face the upcoming night with an alcoholic.
“Ah, I have a better idea,” Caroline said excitedly. “The boss gave me the whole day off, so why don’t we stay together all the time. The teenage years ended a long time ago, and it’s not like we’re in Harleth and Sikeston.”
O’Lingya couldn’t help but want to flinch. In theory, spending the day with an old friend who had once shared a room should have been delightful. Yet the memories of their early years together resurfaced in her mind.
“It’s just, I’m kind of busy,” she said hesitantly, trying to find some reason to cancel the date.
“No!” Caroline was extremely upset. “You’re too heavy and always busy. I don’t think I’ll wait until tomorrow. I’ll meet you in the hotel foyer in half an hour. About nine o’clock you can be dressed-I hate to have to deal with these Frenchmen.”
Olenya put down her phone. Thinking about the nasty things she and Caroline had done together in Harleth and Sikeston, she couldn’t help but laugh secretly.
After graduating from an intensive ten-week crash course in secretarial training for young ladies, O’Lingya joins Caroline. Daville to a prestigious publisher. Olenya realized that Caroline was a very scheming girl. One day at lunchtime, she barged into the director’s office just in time to see Caroline taking rapid notes on her boss’s dictation. From that day on, they became inseparable good friends.
She couldn’t help but smile at the memory of the ball Caroline had organized, entitled “The Erotic Art of Ancient Egypt”. It had been an overstuffed affair – too much expense – with a group of men and women in Egyptian costume serving drinks and desserts in the Egyptian exhibition at the British Museum.
Their transparent clothes attracted a lot of attention, and after a few glasses of champagne, the initiator of the ball took advantage of his drunkenness to make trouble with the same boy. It was outrageous! When Frederic. Contini asked a red-faced waiter to unzip his pants, a little-known tabloid photographer in Fleet Street pressed the shutter and captured the scene.
Caroline began to take urgent measures. After all, it wasn’t just Contini’s reputation that was at stake, she had the entire publishing house to look out for, and as if no one else had noticed what was going on, Caroline decided to quietly put an end to the affair.
Finding an excuse to talk alone, Caroline led the photographer through the gallery and found her way to a hidden niche at the back of the hall displaying rare jewelry and tomb excavations. Olenya followed them furtively, hiding behind a display case.
In the niche room, Caroline didn’t lose a moment. The photographer looked at the glamorous Caroline like a tame horse; that’s when the booze came back. He couldn’t help but be turned on. Caroline pressed him against the huge stone statue of Reusmosis III, pressing her full, firm breasts against his chest and her taut belly against his pelvis. He grinned in ecstasy.
“You know, you’re fascinating?”
When Caroline whispered quietly into the photographer’s ear, Olenya was sure that was what she was talking about. It slid its fingers all over his body. Caroline was indeed a smooth manipulator.
“You …… too.” The photographer reached out and grabbed Caroline’s left breast, squeezing it hard.
“You know what I think? I think you spend too much time working for your job,” Caroline began, picking at the poor man’s emotions one step at a time. “I’ve always admired your work immensely.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said, stopping her fingers between his legs to tickle him. He groaned and closed his eyes, leaning back against the smooth stone statue.
“You should get into fine art photography.” She unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his chest with wet lips. “If you’d like to get into that business, I can help you. I know a lot of people, and my uncle is the Duke of Flamborough.”
Looking at her friend’s skillful seduction techniques, O’Lingya couldn’t help but spring; she slipped her fingers into her panties underneath her skirt and felt her lower body roll and dampen; the touch of her own making her feel like she was overcharged.
“Why would a charming girl like you want to help me, hmm?” The photographer asked, opening his cynical eyes in disbelief. It was obvious that he was trying desperately to suppress the fire of lust that was burning in his heart. His camera was still tethered to his waist; he didn’t want to release this story prematurely just yet.
“Because I like you badass, that’s why.” Caroline unbuckled the photographer’s belt. “Haven’t you ever heard that girls just like rough guys?”
He let out a loud laugh and hugged Caroline’s back, lifting her skirt to reveal the black panties she usually always wore.
“Why don’t you believe what I say? Wait and see how I need you.”
The photographer slipped a fat finger into Caroline’s panties and probed between her legs. She let out a soft sigh as his finger squirmed against her pussy.
“Hot and wet,” he whispered. “Just my kind of woman.”
She unzipped the zipper on his pants and slipped her hand inside, and he shivered with excitement.
“Hot and hard,” she smiled, “just my kind of man.”
They kissed passionately, and Olenya saw that Caroline was in high lust. Had she forgotten what her real purpose was?
The photographer moves around a bit and takes a seat on one of the more comfortable stone statues. It was carved into Paro. Ramses II watched without complaint as the pair of lovers embraced and sat on top of him.
She pulled out his genitals and sat Caroline on them, and they squirmed together in silence, but in perfect harmony. Olenya could see the satisfied, happy smiles on Caroline’s and the photographer’s faces. He gently wrapped his arms around her neck as she rode on his lap, leaning back slightly.
Suddenly the photographer’s mouth dropped open in surprise; the strap of his camera came loose, and Caroline very quickly grabbed it, opened the back cover, and drew out the film.
It was a legendary scene. The agonized photographer was remorseful; Caroline was rewarded with a promotion; Olenya was able to have a wonderful evening, and the photographer later served as Olenya’s trainer at the Bond Street Gallery.
Now O’Lingya is a successful art auctioneer in Paris and has enjoyed many recent works of genius through various conduits. Caroline’s career was also good. Her extraordinary drive – the courage to make love to a man even under the dinner table – had made her, O’Lingya had recently heard, a manager of an orchestra of international renown.
This time, she must not let Caroline lead her astray. For once in her life, she was going to go all out to abstain from alcohol and sex. She hoped Caroline would understand. Sighing softly, Olenya grabbed her handbag and walked downstairs to meet her friend.
Walking into the hotel foyer, Olenya saw Caroline sprawled out on all fours in an eighteenth-century chaise longue, flirting with a horny man at her side. She was as flirtatious as ever, as glamorous as ever, and even whiter than in her memories. She was always so attractive. When Caroline saw Olenya standing in the doorway, she immediately rose to her feet and embraced her old friend with gusto.
“You’re finally here! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you! How …… long has it been two years?”
“At the McShot Bowler Hotel in England. Remember the auction?”
Caroline giggled at the memory.
“He was really charming. I eloped with him to a farmhouse in Aizu for five whole weeks. Did I tell you about it?”
O’Lingya shook her head.
“He’s absolutely fantastic in bed, you have no idea – he’s like a horse with how strong his sexual faculties are, but he annoys me too. Open-mouthed talk about ‘increasing his capital expenditure’.”
“What about you?”
“I ended up having to leave him and get on a plane to Los Angeles with a billionaire. That was kind of the glorious history of my life. I was in L.A. for six months and then I met Ekseva and I ended up in the orchestra. That’s all I’ve experienced in those two years. And you, you’re still doing the same job? A friend of yours at the gallery, Chris, told me where you live.”
“Right now I’m working full-time at an art gallery. I signed a contract last year that made me famous.”
“So, you’re traveling this time?”
“Not really ……”
“So we can have a good time together? Just like old times?”
“Oh, no. I’m …… uh …… celibate.”
“What!” Caroline fell into a cloud, “You’re – celibate? Kidding, aren’t you?”
“I’m just trying to build up my energy for future sex,” O’Lingya tried to be as calm as possible. “Temporary abstinence is just to enhance your sex drive.”
“Ah.” Caroline was greatly disappointed. “Then it’s not going to be fun.”
“I can’t play today. But there’s a chance later.”
Caroline’s eyes flashed brightly again.
“All right then. Now, get your stuff and let’s go. I’ve ordered lunch on a yacht. Carlos-oh, he’s a cello soloist-told me they’d be serving creme brulee and champagne.”
They walked together to the river, and O’Lingya felt much more relaxed. In the warm July sunshine, tonight’s ordeal seemed to be thrown out the window. Perhaps she hated being easily influenced, but it was time to relax and unwind anyway.
The boat is anchored at Elma. Marceau Bridge and was preparing to weigh anchor. They hurriedly jumped aboard and stumbled down five or six steps, walking into the dining hear just as lunch was being served. As Aurinia descended the stairs, a very sexy maitre d’ put his hand on her back to help her down, and she felt a sudden hunger in her belly, but not for an omelet.
Just as O’Lingya’s mind wandered, Caroline had begun to drink the champagne and seemed to have no intention of slowing down. Olingya insisted on stirring the mineral water and white wine together and waited until it was well mixed. The boat slid slowly toward the center of the river. A group of Americans talked and chewed loudly, and didn’t bother to look at the scenery on both sides of the river. In contrast to them, a group of Japanese businessmen in blue suits looked out with great interest, and took some pictures from time to time. Caroline is even more left and right, a moment to chat with her old friend Ou Lingya, a moment to turn around to flirt with a waiter who serves drinks.
O’Lingya was annoyed by what she saw, and thought to go on deck to avoid the noisy Americans and the excited Japanese for a while. But just then a funny thing happened.
“Oops, no good! I dropped my pocket knife.” O’Lingya saw a very handsome young merchant sitting across from him, looking nervously at the floor. She was surprised, it was almost like a play.
“Why don’t you pick it up?” She asked.
“Yeah, why don’t you pick it up?” The young man smiled at her. Quickly sliding out of his chair, he got under the dining table. After a moment, O’Lingya felt something touch her knee. She didn’t think twice about it until the contact repeated itself and she realized it was intentional.
She tried to move away, but her legs were wrapped around a pair of hands.
“Don’t be afraid,” a low voice came from under the table. “I just want to get you high with that.”
O’Lingya felt a rush of excitement inside. But at the same time, she realized that she should stop this behavior for the sake of the test. He was handsome and attractive. He wanted her and she wanted him. She could imagine the soothing and comforting feeling of his tongue licking the sensitive part between her legs, and the pleasure she would feel as he completely penetrated her body.
But finally, she shifted her legs to the side.
The hands were removed from her lap, and then she heard the sound of crawling under the table. Soon the lad, red-faced, crawled out and sat back in his chair. He straightened his tie, picked up his pocket knife, and resumed his meal.
“I beg your pardon, mademoiselle,” he said coldly, “I thought you were a warm and cheerful lady, and I seem to have thought wrongly.”
His words stung Oleander deeply. She looked around her, seeking some comfort, when she realized that Caroline was not in her seat. Had she had too much to drink, or had the sweltering heat taken her out onto the deck for some fresh air? O’Lingya pushed her chair back, intending to find Caroline, who would have to be chastised if she threw up on deck.
She hurried through the dining room and up a few steps to the deck. The deck was empty, and only one helmsman was steering the ship. He winked at O’Lingya as she passed him, but she didn’t notice.
O’Linya stood on the deck and watched the scenery slowly chugging by along the coast for a moment, then walked to the cabin to see if Caroline was there. As she approached the stern, she froze in shock.
Caroline was surprisingly on deck. She might be a little drunk, but not much. She leaned forward over the railing and laughed out loud with hinged old glee when one of the waiters – the same guy who had put his hand on O’Lingya’s back and helped her down the steps – made love to her. The waiter, his strong, powerful hands cradling Caroline’s breasts, was thrusting briskly and rhythmically from behind Caroline. Anyone standing on the shore would have thought they were a couple in passionate love, embracing tightly to watch the scenery. Standing behind them, O’Lingya couldn’t help but feel a stirring in her heart as she saw clearly that they were excitedly making love.
Perhaps her footsteps had disturbed them, and she saw the waiter turn his head and smile at her, “Why don’t you join us, miss? Your friend is a very good lover, but I want you too.”
O’Lingya was almost moved. He was so handsome, so charming, and it was his cocky demeanor that attracted her. She looked him up and down again: straight back, surprisingly broad shoulders, blonde hair with a white face; she couldn’t wait to want him, to feel the pleasure of his arms around her, of his hands caressing her breasts, of making love to him happily.
“Later,” she apologized, turning toward the hatch ladder.
Half an hour later, Caroline returned to the dining room, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. The boat slowly docked.
“Did you have fun?” O’Lingya asked mischievously.
“Ah, don’t be like that, Oleander. It’s your own fault for rejecting life, not mine.” Caroline said, taking her powder case out of her handbag and checking her makeup. “Besides, Bernard is so cute again.” She smiled cheekily, “And I have a meeting with him tonight. So now, what are we doing? You should be happy happy too.”
“How about going shopping? Or to an art gallery?” Aurinia said breathlessly. She didn’t want Caroline to make any more jokes.
Caroline sank back, “I’m talking about a pastime, honey!” She pondered for a moment, “Go relax, chase away those pesky stresses and frustrations, and don’t inflict pain on yourself, okay? Don’t you always love massages?”
“What kind of massage?” Ou Lingya said between them with a puzzled face.
“Oriental massage – absolutely beneficial, I assure you. I know a very skillful masseur.”
“Well, I hope it’s all as you say.”
So Caroline and Olenya moved to a small but unique health club in the XVI district.
“I used to come here to relax when I was in Paris.” As they stepped out of the steamy bathroom, Caroline explained, “It makes one’s whole body clear and happy.” She wryly she smiled, “But I can tell you that erotic services are also offered here. You might as well forget all that celibacy crap. How about a massage?”
“It’s cozy.” O’Lingya sighed cozily.
“Well, you wait there. I’m going to go for a little swim. See you at the bar.”
O’Lingya was sprawled out on all fours on the massage table, covered in a white towel. Life was good. She felt relieved and energized as her body unwound from the long exhaustion. She must have dozed off for a few minutes, because a gentle, oriental-flavored voice roused her from her lethargy: “Miss Ou Lingya?”
She opened her eyes and twisted her head to see a tall, middle-aged Japanese man standing at the massage table, clad in a white bathrobe with a belt around his waist.
“I don’t want a guy!”
“You must not be alarmed, ma’am. I am completely at your disposal and I will do whatever you want. I am only massaging you, you see, and I am completely blind.”
She was really taken aback, the dark eyes staring at her were so dull, so lightless. She remembered the blind people she had met on the train, and she realized then that she had never seen eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Did they live in a darkness too?
“With permission, miss, I’ll remove the towel from you.”
Under his skillful massage, Ou Lingya felt indescribably soothed. His dexterous fingers were like butterfly wings, gently tapping, kneading and moving on her body.
“There’s some strain here, and here,” his fingers pressed expertly and gently against her shoulder blades, and she felt an ache. “It hurts a little now, doesn’t it?”
“It is a little bit.” O’Lingya admitted.
“In a moment,” he said. Olenya felt the fatigue in her joints and muscles disappear wherever his hands passed.
Olenya indulged in the massage the masseuse was giving her. The room was filled with a rich scent, and she suddenly wondered, in a rambling way, if he had burned Aphrodite’s herbs. With each breath, O’Lingya felt just a little more soothed and aroused.
“Turn over now, if you will, young lady.”
She rolled over on her back, not worried about her naked body being on display for this blind masseur. His skillful, hypnotic movements excited and pleased her. He caught his fingers on her shoulders and squeezed them a few times, then moved to her ribs and gently kneaded them. She couldn’t help but be shocked when a few drops of cool, fragrant water dripped onto her body, and he rubbed the lotion onto her stomach, her thighs.
“You’re beautiful, young lady. Your skin is as soft and supple as a child’s.”
She sighed comfortably, barely aware of his hand slowly moving to her pussy.
“Let me amuse you, miss. Let me drive away your fatigue.”
“I …… don’t know,” O’Lingya gasped, overwhelmed by his touch. “I can’t ……”
“Relax, I’ll make you happy. Happier than you can imagine.”
He slid his hands down her thighs and stroked her pussy lips before slipping a finger into her cunt.
As his fingers continued to work their way in, O’Lingya couldn’t help but cry out, she should have restrained herself, she chided herself, she shouldn’t have indulged in such pleasure.
“Relax,” he commanded her; she felt immediately limp and weak. “Relax and let me worship your mesmerizing body.”
Her resistance dissipated to nothing, spreading her legs very obediently as she anticipated the masseur’s soul-sucking touch. Her entire body was like a vessel for pleasure, every nerve ending craving it. But soon the joy was replaced by a strange uneasiness: the uneasiness of anticipation. It was like the dark clouds of an unsettled sky before a storm.
“Oh God ……” she gasped, digging her nails into the back of the masseur’s hand. “You wouldn’t understand, you shouldn’t ……” but he wouldn’t listen. He continued to stroke, trying to bring her to the peak of her pleasure.
“You should relax, kid. Follow the joy.”
With a long sigh, she fell heavily back onto the bed. She must cut through the temptation and leave it behind. After a moment of agony, the gentle, muffled voice of the masseur haunted her again, “Have no fear, child. You’ll be happier.”
O’Lingya opened her eyes and looked at him in confusion.
“What do you mean by that?”
He reached into the pocket of his robe, pulled out a vial, and handed it to her.
“This vial contains a magical potion that will stimulate your arousal, young lady. Tell me, do you still have that hot, aroused feeling in your belly?”
“Yes, yes, it’s on fire.”
“The sensation will soon wear off, ma’am, unless you keep rubbing it in. It stimulates you to crave the love of skin. As long as you keep using it, your desire will grow. No one can resist its power.”
“Thank you,” O’Lingya said as she looked at the small bottle she held in her hand. Could this potion really have such magical powers?
“But beware,” the masseur cautioned her, “don’t use too much; if there’s too much, you’ll become horny as hell.”
That night, Caroline went to dinner – and then to bed – with Bernard, and O’Linya had dinner alone at the hotel before returning to her room to get ready. In the shower, she sprinkled a few drops of potion on her body while her mind went over and over what state she would be getting into. Then she put on a black shirt and tight skirt. Ruminating, she poured a few more drops of the potion into the palm of her hand, then rubbed it along with the perfume on her stomach and thighs, and immediately, a burning sensation spread throughout her body.
There was a knock on the door. O’Lingya looked at the clock on her desk, ten o’clock, exactly the time the messenger had told her.
“Right on time,” O’Lingya smiled to herself and walked to the door. “Whoever you are, sir, I’m ready.”
Chapter 9
“Good night, ma’am.”
The man was tall, handsome, and had a cynical look about him. He was wearing a well-made gray suit with a knit shirt underneath. He seemed to be in a bit of discomfort, even pain. O’Lingya looked him up and down, and wondered, she wondered, how many old, rich women he had bedded. Yes, this was a man worthy of a woman’s investment in him.
Now, it seemed the time had come for O’Lingya to relieve his boredom.
She welcomed him in silently, a bit overwhelmed. He threw her a smile, and she said to herself that perhaps it wasn’t too difficult to be nervous. He was a man, after all, and she had never struggled with understanding a man’s needs.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Have a martini, if you have one.”
Her hand actually trembled a little as she held the spout of the bottle against the rim of the glass, and the absinthe slowly trickled into it. She glanced at the clock; it was already past ten. She didn’t want to rush, but this was only the first of ten visitors, and their conversation was going to involve sex before long.
She handed him the martini. He took a small sip, then slurped and looked her up and down with an odd expression.
“I guess you’re thinking I’ll take the initiative.”
Ou Lingya was taken aback.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, if that’s what you think, you can think some more. Believe me, I’ve seen, played with and slept with a lot of women: fat, skinny, old – even the extremely rare beautiful young woman, like you. But you see, they’re all the same to me. No one can excite me anymore.”
“I understand.”
Olenya was taking off her tight black dress, revealing her firm, golden thighs.
“You’re very brave, baby.” He laughed. “But actually, did you seriously think that I’ve never seen a beautiful woman naked before? Do you believe you’ll bring me some new feelings?”
Maybe not, thought O’Lingya, but I have a chance.
She walked over to the dresser and picked up a small potion bottle and unscrewed the drop cap, which the Japanese had given her.
“Maybe you’d like me to give you a massage? My friends say I hate sucking.”
“Massage? With a potion? Oh, that’s so funny!” He yawned and glanced at his watch. “Well, I guess it’ll pass the time. As long as you’re willing, why don’t I?”
He took off his shirt and let Olenya help him out of his pants, then she folded the clothes and placed them on the back of the chair. He was wearing a rose-red silk boxer-sport short suit, which she thought was ridiculous; but he had a great body, especially for a man his age – graceful and firm and attractive.
“Maybe you like lying in bed?”
He slouched on the bed, not seeming to expect much enjoyment from it. Well then, let him try it. Olenya placed the potion bottle early in her hand, letting the precious liquid warm up, before dropping a few drops of the liquid onto his back. What if it didn’t work on him, what if it worked on her only because of the psychological factors at work in her?
“Oh, it smells good,” he said to himself, “like it’s a little sweet-no, it’s a scent, musky. What’s in it?”
O’Lingya didn’t answer and continued to massage him in the same way that the Japanese had massaged her. She believed that the potion had slowly seeped into his skin. Gradually, he began to relax and his breathing quickened. Ou Lingya happily realized that the aphrodisiac in the potion was starting to work.
“Oh,” he murmured. “It feels so good. Hot …… so hot.”
Sensing that he was growing to enjoy the massage, O’Lingya rolled him over to come and put a few drops of the potion on her palm. His arousal was already slowly being stimulated. Great, but it would take a while for the emotions to rise. She ran her palms over his chest and stomach, paying special attention to his nipples, which seemed to be waiting for her massage.
His legs were unconsciously spread, just waiting for her palm, but she didn’t massage his pussy right away; his genitals weren’t fully erect yet. It was best to tease him first and then make love to him when he really wanted her. He let out a yelp when the first drop hit his scrotum.
“What a magic! Ahh! My God! You have such magic in your fingertips, young lady.”
Olenya smiled darkly, knowing that the man’s pleasure was now in her hands. He couldn’t help but moan as she rubbed the potion, drop by drop, into his scrotum, rubbing it long, slow, and delicately.
This stuff really works! Then she massaged his already with old cock, which was like a hard bar of iron in her hand.
“Want me now,” he moaned. “It’s like my thing is suffering on fire.”
In the end, O’Lingya agreed to his request. She knew that if she wanted to, he would have climaxed with a few more massages of her hand. But she didn’t, she wanted to leave him with a deeper, firmer memory.
“Never forget this moment, sir.” With that she crawled on top of him, his cock thrusting deep inside her. “Never forget Olenya.”
The young Arab lad wandered to the door of Oulingya’s room, not knowing whether to be excited or embarrassed. Just now, walking down the street, a man had come up to him and greeted him and offered him a place to have fun and gave him lots of money. But as he stood in the doorway of this room, looking at the half-naked blonde, he couldn’t help but turn and run away.
“Come in, come in, don’t be so scared, I won’t eat you.”
On another thought, O’Lingya, maybe I’ll eat you. She pulled the boy gently into the room, closing the door behind her. He was a wonderful sweet treat: about sixteen years old, eyes widening nervously like a frightened deer.
“What …… do you want me to do, ma’am?”
“Don’t have to do, baby, don’t have to do anything. I’ll do anything, and my only desire is to bring you joy. Please don’t brown me ‘ma’am’-that makes me feel like I’m old! You may call me O’Linya.”
“Why don’t you take off some of your clothes? It’s so hot tonight, you’ll be more comfortable with them off.”
She placed her hand on his and he shivered, as if afraid she might hurt him somehow. The little street urchin was not yet accustomed to these tender caresses. She began to make small talk with him, and to soothe him softly, as one might soothe a child, or a poor little animal that had left its mother. He was a little tiger, a little tiger that was strong, tender, and brave all in one.
“Little tiger, my little tiger.” She cooed as she pulled off his t-shirt, then unbuttoned the front of his jeans.
He muttered something with an odd expression in a dialect she didn’t understand-she guessed he spoke Arabic as well as French-and O’Linya imagined he was talking to her in the language of a jungle-dwelling quadruped. He was so foreigner-like, so wild and cozy. She dug her fingers into his brown curls and he let out a howl of pain and pleasure.
Then she pulled down his jeans and she saw that his cock had become large and erect and his white cotton shorts were already wet. She really wanted to lick him, but she was afraid to risk it, she was afraid of scaring him off.
Very gently, he ran his hand up to the elastic band of his shorts and pulled them down to reveal his vibrant scrotum.
“What a charming little tiger!” She exclaimed. “Let me kiss you and love you.”
But as she reached down to fondle him, a string of white cum shot out onto her body. He cried out in shame and fear and hid his face in his arms. He’s big inexperienced, thought Olenya!
“Oh, ma’am, ma’am.” He was so shy that he almost cried, and he inwardly grumbled at his own incompetence, while at the same time, Aurinia inwardly grumbled at herself in the same way. What if she couldn’t make him as happy as he was, what if he returned to the organization with his head hanging down? She thought of rubbing some aphrodisiac potion on him, but again it was too powerful and she was afraid it would make things worse. No, she had to think of something else.
“Hush, don’t make a sound!” She soothed him; her cold hand stroked his troubled body, and he fell back on the bed at once.
She got on the bed as well, kneeling between his two thighs, teasing him with her soft, deft tongue, and he cringed a little as she wondered if he was feeling pleasure or pain.
His pussy was once again aroused, but not yet erect. Suddenly, Aurinnea stopped tormenting the little boy and she rolled onto the bed with a turn. After a few moments, he too came to, elbows propped up on the bed, staring downward angrily at Olenya with a confused look on his face.
“Mrs. O’Linya, why did you stop? That felt so wonderful.”
She laughed out loud.
“I’m sure it felt wonderful, baby: but I think it’s time for you to tease my body.”
“But, ma’am, I won’t!”
“Tiger, have you never touched a woman before?”
He blushed in embarrassment.
“Mrs. O’Lingaye, I’ve never seen a woman naked before this.”
“So now it’s time for you to learn, is it?”
The boy’s hand trembled as she gently grabbed his and brought it to her nipple.
“Here are my two little roses, tiger. They tell my lover if I’m ready for sex. Do you feel them getting hard?”
The boy nodded out of breath. Despite his less-than-rotten movements, Aurinia’s nipples became harder and harder, jutting out. He is very attractive, she thought. There was a hint of indulgence, a hint of ecstasy, as if the aphrodisiac-laden potion had seeped into the marrow of her bones.
“Yes, that’s it, baby. Gently but powerfully. Oooh! Not so hard. Now I’ll teach you another trick.”
She grabbed his hand again, and this time, she guided it down the small of her back to the thick area of pubic hair, teaching him how to rub against it.
“Yeah, that’s it – right on the money! If you treat your girlfriend like that, she’ll howl like a real tigress. Give me your finger and we’ll both get excited. Here! Look here. Is it open? Like a blooming flower?”
“So wet!” The boy exclaimed, awestruck by the fluids flowing from the most mysterious part of her body. “Like …… like ……”
“Like a rainforest!” Olenya said for him. “The whole jungle is vibrant, isn’t it? Reach inside me and feel my passion, little tiger, and see how the slime is produced by your touch.”
She slowly guided his finger so that it just touched her most sensitive part.
“Caress it,” she whispered. “See how ripe and full it is.”
He obeyed her almost mechanically, in a trance, not believing that it was all true, not believing that he was lying in this luxurious hotel, in this very bed in this very room, next to a beautiful blonde woman.
A wave of pleasure rushed toward her and she took the boy’s fingers out of her.
“You’ve seen it and touched it,” she whispered. “Now you taste it again.”
She pressed his head between her two thighs.
“Lick it, my little tiger. Lick this sweet, fragrant nectar.”
Instinctively he stuck his tongue out and licked her. Seconds later, O’Lingya climaxed happily, his face pressed against her pussy, her endocrine mucus sticking to his lips.
“Ma’am, ma’am!” The boy called out. “I never …… never ……”
He was covered in slime, and she kissed him passionately, obliviously, lost in a sea of unresistable, uncontainable pleasure.
She lowered her head and saw that he had mowed down, so it seemed that all her teaching had not been in vain, and this was just what she needed.
“Take me,” she whispered in the boy’s ear. “Take me, my little tiger, to try your ‘claws’.”
Ou Lingya smiled amiably at the man; then looked him up and down secretly. The man was thin and tall, wearing a set of long black coat and pants. His skin was extremely unnatural since, like a vampire.
O’Lingya thought so absurdly as she welcomed the uninvited guest into her room, praying in her heart that he would not go too far in tormenting her, who had long since grown weary.
The man picked out an armchair and gave birth to it. Then took out a bottle of red wine, uncorked it, and placed it carefully on the table.
“The wine is red as rouge,” he said, without a trace of a smile on his face, “and I am very fond of this rich red …… It reminds me of blood, and of life and death. My work requires me to be able to face death quite openly.”
“What do you …… you do for a living?”
“Oh, dear lady, of course I’m an undertaker.”
He smiled, it was the first time he had ever smiled. Only he smiled a horrible smile, and his mouthful of irregular teeth reminded Olenya of a dead man’s skeleton. Then he added, “And, I enjoy this work of mine very much. It gives me a lot of pleasure, I just wonder if you will give me that much pleasure as well.”
O’Lingya shivered straight away and sat down in the chair opposite her in a flash.
“Bringing you joy is my only goal!” She replied. She thought how false she sounded, how empty and powerless, “Do what you want, just command it.”
He opened his small suitcase and she was stunned when she saw him remove a thick coil of rope. Was he going to hurt her? Was he going to kidnap her? Then she pulled the coiled rope and wrapped it in a loop around his neck, then gently tied a knot in the lower left side of his jaw.
“The position of the knot is important,” he went on carelessly, like a workman explaining the workings of an engine. “If the knot isn’t tied just below the jaws, then the neck can’t be strung quickly enough, and the hanged man can’t die at once; he has to fight death for a long time. How long, of course, that is worth considering.” O’Linya avoided his forced gaze, hoping that he would never hit her.
The man’s eyes showed a suppressed excitement as he added, “You know, it is said that a man on the verge of being hanged will have one of the strongest erotic outbursts of his life. Don’t you think it would be worth dying for such unprecedented pleasure?”
He toyed with the end of the rope, and Olenya saw his face redden with heightened lust.
Suddenly, a thought flashed into O’Lingya’s mind and she realized what he was about to tell her. He wasn’t going to kidnap her with a rope, he wanted her to understand his obsession with death so she could fulfill his desire!
“Take off your clothes,” O’Lingya ordered, doing her best to look authoritative.
The undertaker took off his jacket and paddle shirt with a black silk tie. She helped him out of his shiny leather boots and black breeches; then he stomped off his shorts and stood naked in front of her. He was a ghostly creature, all skinny and bony and pale, as if he had never been in the sun. But his manhood was thick, big and strong, as if it had accumulated all the energy in his body.
“On your knees.”
He did as she commanded. She tightened the rope wrapped around his thin neck until he sighed heavily at the strangulation. Soon, his manhood became harder, and he was breathing faster and faster. Then, changing to another trick, she kicked a small square stool under the dresser in front of him and said, “Bend over and lie down on it, with your hands gripping the stool firmly.”
The belt from the undertaker’s pants became a whip in Olenya’s hand, and she was going to clean up the undertaker as she had done with Mr. Testi in the basement of the art gallery. The undertaker seemed to relish her beatings, and he couldn’t help but moan and twitch as his back and buttocks were whipped into red and purple patches.
Gradually, O’Lingya saw him slowly approaching a climax of pleasure.
“Sir, you are an evil man.”
“Oh yes, yes, very wicked.”
“You deserve to be punished.”
“Punish? Punish me, punish me.”
“Do you think you …… deserve to die?”
Upon hearing these words, an electric current seemed to pass through Mr. Mortician’s body, and he rounded his eyes in extreme horror.
“Oh yes, yes. Death is the best punishment for the crimes I have committed. I must die, and I will die now!”
“Very well, I’ll fulfill you!”
O’Linya raised the bottle of wine above his shoulders and the blood red liquid slowly poured over his head. He let out a scream when he saw the wine streaming onto the square bench. Just then, she threw a vicious whip at the back of his neck, like an executioner’s axe to his body.
“Die, you shameless man! Die!”
He was trembling, his arms eaned and pulled, and all of a sudden he sat paralyzed on the stool. For a few moments, O’Lingya was afraid she had really killed him. She gave him such a heavy blow that his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. But then he began to moan again, gasping for air and writhing around her legs. His cum shot out onto the carpet, mixing with the red wine that had trickled onto the carpet, and she thought that she would have to explain herself to Constant again. Mr. Philo would have some explaining to do.
O’Lingya glanced at the clock on her desk; it was half past eight. The last visitor had left only fifteen minutes ago, and Mr. Messenger was due at nine. She let out a long sigh; if only the undertaker had been her last visitor.
She was ready to enjoy the few rare minutes alone when there was a knock on the door.
With great reluctance she dragged her heels to the door. Outside the door stood a man in a gray uniform, an envelope cupped in his gloved hand.
“Are you Ms. O’Lingya?”
“Come in, come in, come on – there’s not much time!”
She tugged on his shoulder and pulled him into the room.
“What for ……?”
“There’s no time for discussion! You just undress, and quickly!”
The man shrugged and proceeded to undress. He’s got a great body too, O’Lingya thought, and maybe she wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with him, except that they were here now for his pleasure, not hers.
He lay on the bed as she spread his legs with her still aroused thighs, wishing repeatedly that she would succeed in dealing with the visitor before the messenger arrived.
Seconds later, the man was humming happily, and O’Lingya pressed herself into him so wearily that she didn’t even hear the knock on the door.
“My goddess, Olingya – your appetite is truly admirable!”
O’Lingya looked up to see the messenger leaning against the door, a smile piled on his face.
“What do you mean? What’s admirable? I just got the job done, didn’t I?”
The messenger walked into the room and closed the door. The man just beneath her groaned slightly without moving.
“You are indeed admirable, my dear, and I refer to you only now. I would have thought that after a night of indulgence, you’d be about as tired as you could be, and it’s time to take a break and rest. As a reserve member of an organization, you are truly feared and respected.”
“You mean …… you’re saying this stranger wasn’t sent by the organization?” She glared angrily at the visitor beneath her, a happy smile rippling across his face.
“I’m afraid not, O’Linya, this gentleman is merely a letter carrier I hire to deliver urgent mail, and I’m sure he has mail for you around. Ah, yes.” He picked up the bulging envelope that had fallen to the floor and tore it open. “For you, miss.”
She took the envelope looking at it confused.
“A blank videotape? What’s this for?”
“It’s in preparation for your next quest, Olenya, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Why don’t you take a look at the card?”
O’Lingya pulled the card out of the envelope and it read:
“Congratulations, Olingya, you’ve earned yourself the trust of the organization. But tomorrow you will have to face your greatest challenge yet. You must use this videotape to record a scene from one of your erotic performances in a nightclub in Paris. Good luck.”
Chapter 10
“Caroline, now you understand, I need help.”
O’Lingya returned to her chair and gave birth, taking a sip of her juice before looking out at the world outside, at sunset.
“This all sounds too mysterious, Olenya. Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”
“I wish I could tell you, Caroline; but, please believe me, you will be safer without knowing this.”
“Now, let’s get this straight. You want me to help you play a part for your porno show in some nightclub in the red-light district, and then you want me to videotape your performance – do I have the right to do that?”
“Yes, more or less you have.”
“Ah, you’ve got a lot of nerve, Oleander. I thought you were talking about your celibate life – I told you that kind of massage would call you nostalgic, didn’t I? Sometimes I just don’t get you. Well, I’ll say hello to my friend Rien right away. He’s a regular at the club, but I can’t guarantee that he knows anyone really useful. Even if we offer you the nightclub, how will the videotaping work out?”
“What did you say?”
“Videotaping, honey. Do you have a camera?”
“Of course we don’t. I suppose we could rent one.”
“Okay. Rent the camera and who’s going to use it, I’d be crazy to carry it around the red light district.” She thought for a moment and said, “Didn’t you say something about a boy …… named Joshimu? Didn’t he play with the camera?”
“That’s worth a try.” Aurinia said approvingly. “But I don’t know how to explain it to him.”
Caroline laughed out loud and drained her glass of juice in one gulp.
“O’Lingya, you’re such a little dumbass, telling him it’s art! Besides, what man have you ever seen refuse to watch a sex show?”
Later that afternoon, Caroline returned to the hotel with a list of the names of the many nightclubs she had arranged for that evening’s performance. The first club on the list was on Pigallee Street.
“How do I look?” O’Lingya asked nervously. She fiddled with the black corset on her that was a great reflection of her figure.
“Like a dawdling sassy woman,” Caroline answered her sourly.
“That’s good,” O’Lingya laughed. “That’s exactly the effect I wanted.”
“Rien said the place was absolutely nasty, and you need to know that, I just want you to be good, that’s all,” O’Linya said as she listened to her instructions and then stepped towards the entrance of the intimidating Wild Rose nightclub.
“If you’re feeling scared, you can leave now. Everything is fine, and I’ll be on my best behavior.” Aurinnea glanced challengingly toward Caroline, forcing a brave face. Caroline shrugged and replied, “It’s okay, I’m here now and someone will protect you.”
Hearing this, Ou Lingya felt much lighter in her heart.
They knocked on the door for quite some time and there had been no response, they were ready to leave in search of another nightclub when footsteps came from inside the house.
“Excuse me, who are you looking for?”
“Oh, I’m sorry to bother you,” O’Lingya said as she tried her best to put a smile on her face. “We’re here to apply for a job.”
“Applying for a job? We don’t hire here.”
“That’s odd,” Caroline interrupted their conversation. “My friend Mr. Blusson says you need a couple of wonderful girls for your show tomorrow night. My friend, in particular, is very sophisticated in your line of work.”
“I see,” he added, after a moment’s pause, “well, you’d better come in, but I’m not sure our manager will see you. Our manager, Mr. Gulberg, is a very important man.”
After passing through several doors, they were led into the interior of the nightclub by a lanky boxer.
As they passed a string of pink satinwood barred chairs and a couple of small medieval tables, Caroline thought the nightclub was not too literally set up like a nineteenth-century boudoir for a flirtatious woman. A giant plaster parrot slept on the ceiling of the large hear of the dance floor on a gold chain, with a ring of small swings wrapped around the chain, like a trapeze in a medieval circus.
The walls were framed with a large red watered silk, against which hung portraits of nymphs from ancient Greek mythology, shyly displaying their nudity to an inconsequential world.
“Oliver was right,” Olivia exclaimed of this luxurious and whimsical “wonderland”, “this is a great place for fun and entertainment.”
At the end of the hall was a raised stage with a long sidewalk aisle in front of it in the center of the stage, which stretched about ten to fifteen yards into the audience. Caroline nudged O’Linya with her arm and said excitedly, “Strut down the aisle, honey, they just happen to only see your upper body.”
O’Lingya grinned.
“Who cares what I’m wearing on top?”
They came to a pink door adorned with sequins, and the lanky waiter wiped his hand on the door at the entrance of the counter before raising his hand to knock. He seemed a little timid, which was out of proportion for a man of his size.
There was a slight mumble from the door, and it was clear that the owner of the nightclub was not pleased to be disturbed.
“What time is it, Alf? I told you I was busy.”
“Mr. Gulberg,” replied the boxer, “I have brought two very charming young ladies who say they want to be in the show to-morrow night.”
“Tell them I don’t need girls anymore.”
“But sir, they said they were experienced.”
After a long moment of silence, the door opened and a fat, balding man stood in the doorway, he was fastening his pants. O’Linya’s gaze went over his shoulder toward his shadowy office, and she saw at once a blonde in net stockings who was unashamedly removing her skirt.
Ou Lingya smiled flirtatiously at the owner of the nightclub, then said ingratiatingly, “We’ve run around a lot of places, and everyone says that the Wild Rose Nightclub is the one that has the real deal erotic performances.”
The owner of the nightclub looked her up and down with interest, when the blonde had stood behind him, chewing gum and looking at the two uninvited guests with deliberate intent. Mr. Gulberg touched his bald head and asked, “Is it English?”
“Yes, we’re both English,” Caroline answered him hurriedly as she pushed Aurinia in front of him. “As a matter of fact, it was my friend who wanted to apply for the job – she’s more sophisticated than looking in such matters.”
You’re lying again, Ou Lingya said in her heart.
Caroline threw an electric smile at Mr. Gulberg that would have melted hard rock. She pressed on, “It’s absolutely right to have her in your show. In a Swedish nightclub, people call her ‘The English Rose’.”
At that moment, the blonde woman maliciously charged, “English women are cold.” Olenya saw her blood-red lips, and the mouthful of yellow teeth in them. The woman continued, “Gulberg, everyone knows that. You don’t want to hire snobbish Englishwomen who don’t seem to have good intentions.”
“Shut up, Ingrida!” Gulberg growled at her, weighing up the two Englishwomen. “So they’re a couple of snobbish badasses – but they’re pretty and modern. Maybe the gamblers like to spend a little money enjoying their beauty. Besides, they’re not aloof; you can tell they’re not restless-is that right? Two ladies?” He took the opportunity to touch Caroline on the back.
“I told you, only my friends applied for the job,” Caroline interrupted uneasily.
Mr. Gulberg shook his head sadly.
“Oh, what a shame! All we’re missing is just the role of a double act. You two come together, otherwise, we are not interested. Ladies, be my guest.”
Caroline and Olingya exchanged glances.
“There’s no way out,” Caroline said.
“Just say yes, Caroline, for me.”
“Uh-oh.”
“You’ll like it.”
“Maybe I’d like it if it was the Apollo nightclub on Hersman Avenue. But a sleazy place like this one, I’ll never like it.”
“Maybe I should tell her about the night you and Francesco’s husband spent rejoicing on a water-filled mattress at her house.”
Caroline said helplessly, “All right then, Olenya. But you have to promise me that you’ll never mention this again.”
Olenya smiled sweetly at Mr. Gulberg, then pressed her fingertips gently against his lips. Ingrida, who was standing behind him, looked at her with jealous rage.
“Mr. Gulberg, what would you like us to do at your show? We’ll do anything.”
Gulberg turned to his blonde lover.
“Go get Marco and Alexander. Hurry up, I haven’t had any fun all day.”
Ingrida went out with great reluctance, and a few minutes later she brought with her two sturdy lads covered in olive oil, dressed only in tight athletic skivvies, and covered with fine, dense beads of sweat, perhaps from their training.
Mr. Gulberg instructed them both, “Here are two ‘English roses’, take them and do with them what you will.” With that, he pulled over two chairs and gave birth, pulling Ingrida along to sit on his lap, his other hand already reaching for Ingrida’s red polka skirt. “They’re here for tomorrow night’s show. I want to see a little something really appealing.”
Olenya didn’t even need to be told what to do, for these two lads were enough to stir up any woman’s desires; they were tall and strong, and their skin was that natural brown color from the sun that was so alluring! Her hands slid eagerly over Alexander’s body, feeling how smooth, firm and resilient he was. Her lips traced his body, her tongue licking at the salty beads of sweat on his body, and a deep, urgent longing surged through her, and she couldn’t help but drop to her knees and kiss his shorts-clad crotch. She could feel his arousal.
Behind her, she could faintly hear Caroline moaning, perhaps Marco had aroused her pleasure in some mysterious way, but Aurinia didn’t care about that, she only cared about her and Alexander’s pleasure.
Alexander remained as motionless as a statue, and only the hard, firm shaft contained between her lips told her that he was filled with lust.
O’Lingya was determined to conquer this outwardly aloof guy. She undid his gym shorts and pulled them down. His cock was sticking straight upwards, but she didn’t immediately put it in her mouth. To his surprise, she stood up instead and began to slowly undress in front of him. Eventually, all that was left of her was her bra, stockings and garter belt. She knelt in front of him again and tenderly stroked his erect penis as if she were treating a wounded bird. She kissed it sweetly again, then pressed her breasts tightly against his lower back, his scrotum right up against her cleavage. He finally moved, and for the first time he showed his pleasure.
Meanwhile, Marco and Caroline are enjoying themselves ……
Olenya had conquered the aloof Alexander, and she was very happy about it. Her breasts continued to rub against him, and when she sensed his imminent ejaculation, she stepped back from him, and a long string of white, hot semen then shot out onto the floor of the nightclub.
Mr. Gulberg, who was seated in a circular barred chair, witnessed their brilliant performance, and he could not help congratulating them with a hearty round of applause: “Splendid, ladies. No one has ever seduced my Alexander so skillfully and for so long. And your performance was so lively and exciting! Great marvelous!”
Ingrida pouted unhappily and avoided a kiss from Gulberg.
“Gulberg, I don’t think they’re much use – really ordinary.”
“Too bad! Ingrida, because I’m going to hire them both. So you’d better delegate.”
Ingrida gave him a sly, smug smile.
“Well then, Gulberg, you’d better commit yourself as well. If you hire these two English chicks, I’m going to lead the rest of the girls on strike! And the boys, too. What are you going to do, huh? You can’t play your show at all without these actors.”
Ou Lingya sighed. Her plans had been disrupted, things didn’t go as smoothly as she had expected. It would be excusable if you were rejected because you weren’t qualified enough, but to be terminated because your boss’s mistress thought you were too sexy was too much for a girl to bear: besides, it was a waste of her time.
She poured Caroline a glass of brandy and then sat back to watch Caroline drink, stunned by the amount of alcohol her friend was consuming.
“What do I do now?” She frowned sadly.
“Try another nightclub, dear. By tomorrow night, there’s still hope for us.”
“No, Caroline, there is no hope left. Everything has to be ready tonight or it’s over, you wouldn’t understand.”
“It’s so strange! Darling, it’s not like you won’t tell me what’s going on.”
“I hate sorry, I can’t tell you or I’ll hurt you.”
Caroline thought for a few moments before a thought jumped into her mind.
“Tell you what, Oleander. Why don’t we buy tickets for tonight to see the erotic show at Gulberg’s nightclub?”
“What’s the use of that? We can only sit in the audience, it’s not like we can perform on stage.”
Caroline threw back her head and laughed.
“Haven’t you ever heard of audience participation?”
Joshimu leaned back on the bed and took a light sip of the wine in his hand.
“Ou Lingya, you are a woman of distinction and a very mysterious woman.”
Aurinia lay down beside him and stretched out her arms around her lover as she once again craved his caresses.
“Please believe me, Joshimu. If I could have told you, I would have. You don’t know that it’s better for you. Won’t you help me?” She stroked his side, knowing him better than he knew himself. “All you have to do is sit in the audience and point the camera lens at me.”
“Well then, I can’t help but say I’m confused, baby.” He turned his lids to Aurinia, then took her in his arms, his lips covering her eyes. “But I can’t help but say I’m excited, too.”
“Excited?” O’Lingya rolled over onto him in a flash, her breasts resting against his head.
“I enjoyed watching the scene where you teased that cleric; I also enjoyed making love to you in the restroom of the big museum; and I don’t doubt that I also enjoyed watching you slowly undress during the erotic show. You know that when you see your lover lying in another man’s arms, you tend to be aroused by something that stirs your libido as well. You’re a maddening woman, Olenya – but I just can’t get you out of my head.”
“I’ll come back to you,” Olenya kissed him tenderly. “Stay with you forever, darling.”
“I know you will, baby. How could I doubt that?” Joshimo’s hands had skillfully covered her body.
“Make love to me again, Joshimu.” Olenya sighed. It was at this very moment that she longed to lie in a strong arm, to be someone else’s captive, to have someone else please her and tease her. She couldn’t always be so strong, always so charming; sometimes she just wanted to be a little girl who was carefully cared for by someone else, like the timid, innocent heroine of a romantic fiction story.
This afternoon she could relax in the warmth of Joshimo’s arms, but tonight she would revert to being a Huntress.
At night, the Wild Rose Nightclub was even more lively. Outside the door stood a very eye-catching giant advertisement that read, “Live erotic show – absolutely thrilling! Performed by Ms. Ingrida and her sexy sisters.”
Caroline and Ou Lingya walked in after presenting their admission tickets and IDs at the door. No matter how richly decorated this nightclub was, it was after all still a not-so-high-end place of entertainment, with very few female spectators except for a few actresses. Illuminated by a thousand odd colored lights, the nightclub looked even more uncomfortable than it did during the day.
On the stage, naked actresses wearing gilded square tiaras with pink feathers lightly towering over their heads walked back and forth across the stage. Offstage, a group of waitresses in high heels, champagne in hand, were followed by some drunks, and in a corner of the nightclub the waitresses and the drunks teased, laughing and screaming at times at the champagne that the drunks poured over them.
Caroline and O’Lingya found seats and sat down, their seats weren’t far from the aisle leading to the stage, they sat for a while until the audience was full and the show officially started. Ou Lingya looked toward the other side of the nightclub, just in time to meet Joshimu’s gaze, and he nodded. It looked like everything was ready.
As Olenya had predicted, the performance was as lame as the stage art design. Dressed in a short satin dress, a pair of fishnet stockings over her legs, and a blonde wig, Ingrida looked like a third-grade prostitute as she rode in a chair in the center of the stage, pretending to please the male performers who danced around her with her big mouth, and the drunken men in the audience gave a thrilling ovation from time to time, but you could tell they weren’t really thinking about her. Ingrida’s performance is hollow and uninvolving. Meanwhile, her “sexy sisters” were dancing a very simple routine with Marco and Alexander. This is not what Olenya would call “live pornography”. She was sure she could do it better than they could.
Ingrida stood up from her chair and walked towards the end of the aisle, pushing an alcoholic who was attempting to come up and play with her off, she paused for a moment, then undid the clasp on the back of her black satin bra and threw it smoothly into the audience. She didn’t seem to notice her two opponents sitting at the end of the aisle. Just for a moment, with her back to them, Olenya whispered to Caroline, “I think it’s time.”
The handle of Caroline’s umbrella hooked easily around Ingrida’s ankle, and Ingrida had no chance to resist Caroline’s sudden attack; she fell headlong into the clamoring crowd before she could even cry out in alarm.
Mr. Gulberg stands on a swing and watches in amazement as his starlet, Ingrida, is teased by a bunch of crazy drunks. He has no intention of convincing them to give her up, and it’s clear that Ingrida is going to be “hired” by them for the rest of the evening. The show is in chaos, Ingrida’s “sisters” are confused and at a loss, and the handsome actors have no partners.
“Now it’s your turn,” said Caroline. “Walk up in a big way!”
O’Lingya walked up the aisle without hesitation. She looked back in the direction where Joshimu was, and she saw the camera lens flashing through the crowd. She said to herself, Okay, it’s up to me!
Mr. Gulberg’s eyes rounded in surprise as he saw a sexy blonde-redhead walk up the aisle. She was still wearing the same outfit she had worn when she applied for the job, and he recognized her instantly.
“That one is ‘England to the Crown’.”
Alf rolled up his sleeves and asked Mr. Gulberg, “Is it necessary to coax her down, sir?”
“No, let her be, Alf, she saved us from a show that was on the verge of collapsing.”
Oulingya began a long, gripping strip show, and the two representatives of the “Big Love Demon” organization sitting in the audience watched her performance with interest and talked about her at the same time.
“She is an amazing girl.” The Chief commented, “She performs with confidence and her body really is a perfect exhibit.”
“Oh yes, but I’m still not sure that this girl with the last name O’Lingya is a good piece of material for the organization.” The healer sitting next to the officer replied. “She is young and pretty, I agree with you. But I don’t have ample evidence of her ability to seduce men yet.”
Now stripped down to a pair of knee-high boots, O’Lingya was watched lustfully by the gamblers on the stage. She waved a small silver whip in her hand, and whenever the gamblers reached out to touch her, she danced them away gently, then gave the tip a hearty kiss in return.
She teased the male performers who danced with her with her beauty and skill until they were all turned on. The actresses stood and watched her from a distance, realizing that they had encountered a Nemesis.
Finally, Aurinia signaled for audience participation. She scanned all the men, each hoping to be chosen by her for the stage, and was reminded of that night at the Grand Theater in Dratanpur. After a while, her eyes fell on a tall brown-haired man, and there was an uproar in the audience. He’ll be willing, Aurinia thought. In fact the man did want to, and very much so.
The healer moved as he realized that O’Lingya had chosen him, twisted around to give his companion a meaningful look, and then walked up the aisle. Olingya watched him for a few moments, then bent down and pulled him up. A few minutes ago he had been a mere spectator, and now he was taking part in her performance, and it was too much fun for him. In a few moments he was her “captive,” as she had been Lauriput’s “captive.”
If this doctor had been suspicious of her a moment ago, it could only have been a bit of preconceived notions about her, and now, all doubts were dissipated.
O’Lingya tried to focus on the magazine, but she still couldn’t get that night at the Wild Rose nightclub out of her mind.
Everything was a success. When she saw Mr. Messenger, who was waiting outside the door of the nightclub, take the videotape she was holding, she wanted to jump for joy because she had managed to break through again. Young Joshimu was also infected by her enthusiasm and they spent the night yesterday rejoicing. This morning, Joshimu left her and went to London to organize his painting exhibition. There was a vague sense of loss in her heart, and she was going to miss him madly again.
Besides, she had other things to do. Not long from now, she was going to accept the last task. There was only one last task left! Her dream was about to come true. She would not, she should not, and she must not fail. She thought of her father, whom she revered and loved, who had left her so many years ago, leaving her with a long-cherished dream that he had not realized. How she wished he could see her now: he would be proud of his only daughter.
The clock was already pointing to nine o’clock, and she wondered if the messenger would arrive on time. Time passed so slowly! It was like thick, yellow liquid dripping insipidly downward from a spoon. She sat down in the armchair and closed her eyes, trying to calm her troubled mind slowly.
A knock at the door almost made her jump from her chair, her heart beating in her throat as she stood up, smoothing out her wrinkled clothes as they sat, ready to meet the messenger. Her door, which she had locked this morning, she twisted the lock with a trembling hand, and at last it opened.
“Please come with me.” The stranger at the door ordered her. His face was covered in a black leather cloth, showing only his eyes, nose and mouth. He was wearing the same black cloak on his body. For a few moments, Olingya thought he was from another planet.
“But why? ……”
“Nothing,” the stranger answered her, his hand wrapping around her waist. “Today, you’re mine. You’ll do what I want you to do.”
Chapter XI
At first, O’Lingya was too confused to realize what was happening to her. It was only when the black limousine crossed the streets of Paris that she woke up. This is her final test: a crucial exercise that will ultimately determine whether or not she will be able to enter the Big Love Demon organization.
O’Lingya lay still and motionless in the back seat. Blindfolded, she couldn’t tell where she’d been taken, and fear gnawed relentlessly at her heart; the same kind of helpless, lost fear that women in general often had.
The man’s words echoed in her ears over and over again, “You’re mine now, and you’ll do whatever I want you to do. Every moment of today, you will be my slave. The only thing I can’t control about you is your own fear ……”
What do these words mean? Is today going to be some kind of challenge in the way of his own path? As the sedan turned around and sped down a gravel road, O’Reillya’s thoughts traveled back to her teenage years. When she was nineteen, she and some friends had kidnapped a teacher at their school to finance a rave.
Of course, they manage to get their hands on this teacher and can’t help but be ecstatic. The teacher is young and handsome, and especially the way he is scared out of his wits is a big hit with the group of girls who have kidnapped him.
He had been blindfolded, as she was now, and had not been told what would be done with him. Now, O’Lingya deeply appreciated how he had felt disoriented then – unable to see where he was, not knowing who he was with. Perhaps soon, there was even doubt about who he was.
They were going to tell him that it was all a joke, and they really meant it. They were also going to remove his blindfold in a secluded area and supply him with champagne and chocolate until a friend of the head of the school where he taught ransomed him. But it seemed more fun not to tell him the truth, to let him believe he had really been kidnapped.
O’Lingya lay anxiously and helplessly in the backseat of the limo, unable to help but feel deeply guilty. She wanted to tell him everything, but was fascinated by his terrified look. She knew that his whole body was on edge, and that the smallest torture they had inflicted on him had caused his whole body to react dramatically.
You can torture a man into agony with a feather. A real kind of agony. He wept in agony as they zapped his bare skin with the tip of a feather. They licked him with their tongues and nipped him gently with their teeth, making him savor an unbearable pain laced with arousal.
They all made love to him. Even though Olenya joined them because she was deeply disturbed by the sight of a man in agonizing helplessness when he was tortured. He was stunned by what was happening to him and turned to sadness and sobbing. They possessed him as men rightfully possess women. Their only reason was because they were happy. They thought they had done it cleanly and unknowingly throughout. He never knew what kind of girls had kidnapped him.
Then, when someone finally came to “ransom” him, they released him and sent him back to school still blindfolded. He did not tell anyone what had happened on that extraordinary day in his young, ordinary life. Soon after, he left the school and they never saw him again, but then they heard that he got a new job and was fired because he had an inappropriate sexual relationship with a student. O’Lingya often wondered if it was what they did that deeply affected him.
Now, at last, O’Lingya was experiencing all the feelings hidden behind the blindfold. As the wheels rolled over a section of gravel road and came to a stop, she felt that the moment she had been dreading had finally arrived. They had reached their destination.
A pair of strong hands dragged her out of the limousine and pushed her over the gravel road, up a few stone steps, and through a heavy gate that closed quickly behind her. It felt like a church door to her.
The inside of the room was cold and damp, as if no one lived there. What kind of place was it? Was it an abandoned house, or an unoccupied warehouse? A footstep walked into the room; then the stairwell descended, descended, descended, and they reached a damp and cold place. O’Lingya heard the sound of a key in the lock behind her. She felt dizzy and trembling, and realized how fragile she had turned out to be.
“Welcome, Aurinia,” said the same icy and mesmerizing voice, “We are glad to have you here, in the land of your fears.”
“I can’t understand. What does my place of fear refer to?”
“Shut up! Speak only with permission. Violations are punishable by three lashes.”
Immediately, Ou Lingya immediately felt pain like a whip on her back.
Just at the same time, the room filled with a cacophony of talking. How many people? She couldn’t tell, and the talking was so interspersed with echoes that she couldn’t make out a complete sentence.
“Defile her.”
“Pain that gives him pleasure ……”
“Enslave her.”
“Hurt her.”
“Scare her.”
“Please!” Aurinia exclaimed, turning her lids in the direction of the voice. “Please remove my blindfold.”
“Poor, sweet Olingya,” said the man who had first spoken to her in a muffled voice. “She wants us to remove her cloth.” A sinister jeering erupted around Aurinia, and she could not help but break out in a cold sweat. “But my dear girl, that would be detrimental to our experiment and spoil our pleasant atmosphere.”
“Look, O’Reillya, this is the Land of Fear, where you’re going to encounter the deepest horrors, and we’re going to help you turn those horrors into something pleasant, okay? So let’s start now, shall we? You’re going to feel your body on fire, very, very hot, like it’s on fire.”
Immediately, O’Lingya felt a cloud of heat wrap around her, and heard the whistling of flames and splintering pops. How did they have this kind of skill? Were they real flames, or had she been hypnotized by them and hallucinated? The fear in her mind repeatedly declared to her that this was a real fire, and she was about to flinch backward when a pair of large, strong, powerful hands gripped her tightly, and she cried out nervously. She could feel the flames burning on her body, a thick cloud of smoke choked her lungs, and the horrible imagery made her delirious.
“It’s fire, ma’am. Fire’s hell. Do you remember since you were a child you were afraid of fire, and do you remember one day when the straw caught fire while you were being put in a warehouse and you thought in despair that you would surely die?”
“Please, don’t, don’t!” O’Lingya panted and screamed. The heat continued to rise, forcing her to face the memory she had been avoiding. She had hoped that memory would never come back.
“Fire, Oleander. The roaring fire and the gusts of smoke, do you feel the heat?”
Fear was gradually breaking her will when, suddenly, the situation shifted. Something touched her. It was a hand. Something damp and cold against her skin that grew warm and began to slowly heat up until it burned, like fire from friction.
“Feel the tongues of fire licking your body, Olenya. It feels wonderful like staying in hell.”
Hands, hands all over her body, stroking, soothing, arousing and agonizing. She wished she was free from the pain, and yet, she knew she had to endure it.
Finally, as she felt herself about to collapse, the pain disappeared, moving as swiftly as if it had come as suddenly as it did. A moist air invaded her bare skin once more.
“Keep it, Olingya. Stay and feel its power.”
The cuffs were removed from her wrists and something was placed in her hand. She immediately felt what it was and began to shudder not on it.
“Afraid, Oleander? Afraid of vipers?”
“Not afraid, never been afraid.”
She gritted her teeth and forced herself to grip the slithering, twisting thing. The snake wrapped its hot, dry body around her wrist.
“A cobra, O’Linya, a drop of its venom can kill a man, you’re afraid of snakes, aren’t you? You don’t want snakes to kiss your lovely body? Vipers love you, Olenya, and you don’t know how wonderful they feel when they kiss your neck.”
O’Lingya tried her best to resist the temptation. Why were these people so good at exposing the deepest fears of others? At a very young age, she had been afraid of snakes. She had spent many disturbing afternoons with one of its cousins-a very unpleasant boy named Richard-who always made his bedroom look like a zoo. The walls were also lined with containers, large and small. A sickening, rotting corpse stench emanated from them.
At first glance, you’d think the containers were empty. Look closer and you’ll find a coiled or wriggling lizard poking its head under a spreading slab of stone; or a red-backed spider with fat legs covered in a tangle of tawny hair; and, of course, a snake, lying peacefully on a warm bed of sand. Perhaps there will be a locust slowly flying past a green gecko, not realizing that it is on its way to death. All this was for observation. O’Lingya, however, felt as if she was being held in a glass container for viewing, rather than a snake or a spider.
“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Richard placed a green-legged Tarantula venomous spider in the palm of his hand and stroked it gently, like some unmotivated boy stroking his pet’s mouth. “Of course, always be careful when mating them-you can’t leave a male and a female together for too long.”
“Why not?” O’Lingya asked curiously.
“They eat each other.”
He handed the spider to Oleander, but Oleander was too frightened to pick it up. “Don’t be like a frightened kitten,” he scoffed, “it doesn’t bite very hard – well, there’s no need to be so careful.”
“So, what’s this?” O’Lingya asked, digressing and pointing to another container.
“Black viper.” Richard said wistfully, “Want to touch it?”
“No!” O’Lingya loudly refused; but Richard all but ignored her strong remonstrance and reached into the container to grab the fattest, oldest viper.
“Why don’t you wear gloves or something?”
Richard laughed triumphantly, “Gloves are for amateurs. Besides, they don’t bite me. We have a strong friendship, I breed them, and they give me all their love, don’t they, dear?”
He caught a black viper with a smooth body and let its body gently wrap around his wrist, then he gently stroked the head and the snake looked content.
“Here, touch it. You’re not scared, are you? Girls are just timid, you’re so useless.”
This reproach pierced Ou Lingya’s pride deeply, and she reached out her hand to touch the viper’s head. To her surprise, the snake’s head was so hot and dry, not cold and slippery as the ground thought. This encouraged her, and she began to gently pat the snake’s head, which closed its eyes as if intoxicated.
“It likes you, and you can hold on to it if you want.”
“Oh …… well.”
Warily, O’Lingya reached out and took the snake, letting its body wrap around her hand like a large black bracelet. She was not about to let her cousin mock her again. The snake was warm and weighty, and she felt its life pulsing like a giant’s engine.
Soon the snake became heavier and heavier.
“I’m tired. I think you’d better put it back.”
She held out her hand to hand the snake to Richard; but just as Richard put his hand to her, the snake opened its eyes and its gaze was hostile. Richard was too late to remove his hand, or perhaps he was too complacent to ignore the warning signals the snake was sending, and he caught the snake by the head.
Its jaws opened and it drove its sharp fangs into Richard’s unsuspecting arm. He clutched his arm in agony and roared wildly, but O’Linya could do nothing to help.
Then the viper closed its eyes again in peace and fell asleep in O’Lingya’s hands.
The doctors tried their best but it was too late to save cousin Richard’s life. Ever since then, Olenya has had a morbid fear of poisonous snakes.
Now, here she is, wrapping the body of a viper around her arm.
“Let it pet you, Olenya. It wants to explore you, it wants to smell you.”
She knew she had to follow orders. But what to do? How could she endure the fear that a viper’s kiss would bring to him? Soon, the figure of her father came into her mind. His father smiled and placed a strong arm on her shoulder, soothing her.
“You can do everything, Olenya. Anything – as long as you believe in yourself, because I trust you.”
She couldn’t help but be shocked, then easily grabbed the viper and it wrapped itself around her arm. She brought her arm closer to her body and the snake’s head began to lazily explore her entire body. Its smooth, soft, slippery head caressed her abdomen, then moved upward to touch her ample breasts. Every moment she expected the snake to spit out its poisonous tongue and give her a deadly kiss.
But the snake looked contented and lazy, perhaps it didn’t want to hurt her at all. Gradually, Olenya began to feel a strange impulse from the snake’s body touching her skin. The cobra looked so provocative, exploring its partner’s body with as much interest as a lover would. For the first time, she felt an aroused excitement as its warm, dry head slithered against O’Reillya’s skin.
Just as she was rambling, she felt something touch her pussy. A hand? But a little rough. It was a leather-gloved hand, stroking her pussy lips in an extremely rhythmic, and somewhat mechanical, manner. And yet it was so, so soothing to her. She could never have imagined that she could enjoy such mind-blowing pleasures in such a strange and dangerous environment; she felt her belly tighten and the dampness rise between her legs.
“Feel the viper’s love for you, Olenya. Accept its kisses on your belly, breasts and neck.”
“Yes,” Oleander panted as the gloved hand left her pussy and fingers began to reach into her cunt. “Ah, yes.”
“Feel the head of the snake reach inside you.” As she spoke, her fingers were already probing the opening of her vagina and it felt so wonderful that she was soon convinced that it was the head of the viper that was between her legs, making love to her. How great and dangerous love was. Nothing was as closely linked as love and death.
The snake’s head gently and rhythmically stroked O’Lingya’s breasts, and she was a little spellbound as a comforting thought began to seep into her subconscious: perhaps the organization didn’t want to hurt her at all, but was merely scaring her to test her endurance. But if they accidentally killed her, what would they do with the body, people would surely question. No – the snake was safe, no doubt with its fangs removed. She had heard that in zoos or circuses people used to pull out the fangs of snakes. She willingly let the snake caress her body and relished it.
Gloved fingers moved in and out of her cunt, the snake’s head still rhythmically caressing her breasts and occasionally playing with the nipples. She had been so intoxicated that her soul had wandered; had forgotten her shame – she knew that so many horny men were watching her in a dank basement in Paris. She could endure it all, and would surely be able to overcome it.
Just as lust was running high, the fingers were withdrawn from her body. She let out a moan that wasn’t quite good enough yet, and was rewarded with a sharp chorus of jeers.
“It won’t be so easy to let you off the hook, Olenya. It’s not enough, you’ll have to prove your abilities further.”
A strong arm took the viper away from her, and without the warmth of the snake’s touch, she felt lost and alone, cold and shivering. A feeling of unfulfillment also stirred her greedy clitoris, and she couldn’t help but place one hand on her belly, then slowly slide it down toward the soft area between her legs.
“No way! Never allow that!”
The whip lashed against her bare back as an arm roughly yanked her hand away and twisted her arm backwards. The unexpected pain caused her to give in.
“Get permission to do that, understand?”
“I …… am, I understand.”
“What are you, Oleander?”
“I …… don’t know.”
“You are my slave. You are not a thing, and from now on, you will call me master, and I will use you like a slave. Is that clear?”
“Clear, Master.”
O’Linya stood silently before her master’s eyes, unable to see him through the thick blindfold, and so she bowed her head with an air of obedience to her orders.
“Are you afraid of pain, Olenya, my slave?”
“Fear not, master,” O’Lingya said firmly. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“You lie,” the rough fingers pinched her nipple so hard she let out a soft wail of surprise. “There is no one on this earth who is not afraid of pain.” He paused for a moment, “But some of us welcome it, and understand and use it skillfully until eventually it becomes pleasure.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Get permission to speak.” A light slap on O’Lingya’s cheek silenced her.
“Now I am going to remove your blindfold, slave. Do not run away or you will be severely punished. For the rest of the day, you will serve me and those friends of mine, understand?”
“Understood, Master.”
Gloved hands clumsily undid the knots on the blindfold, then removed the silk scarf from Ou Lingya’s eyes. At the sudden sight of light, Ou Lingya blinked with extreme discomfort.
The room was not the crypt of an old church, as she had first imagined, but a ruin in the red-light district. The low, gabled roof and the wavering light from wax candles and flashlights made her fearful and uneasy, as if she were in a place with a Gothic atmosphere. A mound of graves and tombstones hid among the broken stones, and odd human figures on the ceiling grimaced at her.
There were four men in the room, all masked and clad in tight leather – making her feel both intimidated and deeply uneasy. They were seated around a medieval tomb, the top of which was so flat it looked like a dining table, with cups and saucers laid out like a banquet. The hidden identities of several of the men deeply angered Olenya, and in a reversal of her cowardice, she spoke up in defiance of her master’s orders, “Why don’t you show your faces, because I know you, or are you afraid of being found out?”
A thin cane, like a whip, lashed at O’Lingya’s shoulder blades, and she cried out in pain.
“I told you, slave – shut up!”
“Yes, Master.”
“It will not happen again. You are now my slave and will not speak until you have my permission.”
“I understand, Master.”
The guy who had brought her here looked her up and down, then gave a dry laugh.
“No, my angry lady, you don’t know us-any of us. We have never met before, nor will we ever meet again. As fate would have it, we have only met once – but I believe it was also one of the most memorable encounters.” He ran a gloved hand over the red whip marks on O’Lingya’s back, “Don’t you think that this bit of pain just adds spice?”
Without waiting for Olenya to reply, he had turned away, “There is a hidden, transcendent love between us, my dear slave. Soon you will understand a substantial truth: desire is an anonymous, pure need that is constantly evolving and changing. It is not vital to know the partner with whom one makes love; what people do and are is due to desire itself.”
He walked back to the table and continued his insight to the other three guys who had been sitting silently at the table, “The desire for life is a desire, slave. Desire is a deeper, more subtle longing for all of us. Only we all have a lingering patience. Even when our sexual desires are satisfied, our longing for sex remains. Eventually, the desire joins us in death and in the grave. Let’s just explore the limits of each craving until death has plundered us of all our desires, shall we? Sweet slave?”
Olenya stood without saying a word, this speech about death and desire leaving her greatly confused and deeply disturbed.
“Are you willing to explore that desire, slave?”
“Willingly, Master.”
“Excellent.” The master clapped and applauded as he took a seat at the tomb table. “We need a refreshment, slave. You’ll find wine on the floor over there. Pick a bottle and pour it for us.”
Olenya walked in the direction of her master’s finger. It was dark ahead and she bent forward, cobwebs hanging in her hair from time to time, when she realized that here was an altar.
The altar is probably a little larger than a small room, and is intended to hold only an altar and three or four worshippers.
But it can be seen that no one has worshipped here for many years, the dust piled up into a thick layer, the altar also turned into a pile of rotten wood.
O’Lingya walked fearfully into the altar, a wax candle glowed with a flickering light behind the altar, and she saw a whitish object sitting next to it. She picked it up and it turned out to be a card that read:
Desire is the only supreme truth. Worship desire!
She turned nervously, glancing over her shoulder to see the well-arranged bottles of wine standing against the wall, and walked over to rattle the corks, ready to pour some out. It was amazing that these guys knew how to let the wine breathe before the ceremony, it seemed quite civilized!
But which bottle to pick? Obviously this was also a test. Though Olenya was quite proud of her knowledge of good wine, how could she guess what was in her master’s mind? Didn’t he emphasize time and again the fickleness of desire, and if she counseled him, he might change his mind?
She browsed through the bottles. Twelve different wines, not noted for merchant plagiarism, but definitely fine wines. Some were aged for years; some were only just made or even very shoddy. One was a well-sealed, dark red wine, and one was a pale wine that smelled of aromatic herbs.
Finally, she selected a bottle of wine from Villa 86 Bolden. Picking up the bottle, she left the creepy altar and returned to the densely lit room. The master and his friend still sat motionless, waiting for her in silence.
She walked in on them and handed the bottle to the host.
“Did you choose?”
“Chosen.”
“I’m sure that would be a good opportunity for you. You pour the wine.”
The master watched like a hawk as Olingya poured a few drops of the rare liquid into his crystal glass. Then holding the glass up to the light, he sniffed before taking a taste. O’Lingya held her breath, waiting for her master to throw a fit, for she thought he would be unhappy with her choice.
To her surprise, the host put down his glass and nodded, signaling her to continue pouring.
“The wine is very good. Positive color and flavor.”
The comment made Aurinia proud, and she neglected to realize that excitement should also keep her sanity. As she poured wine for her host and his guests, she accidentally spilled a small drop of liquid out of the bottle and onto the leg of a guest wearing leather pants. The guest yells out in displeasure, “Look what was done, you careless heart bitch!”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
“Lick it off, one more drop.” The master ordered.
The guest grabbed Oleander by the head and dragged her to her knees on the floor. She licked the remains of the wine, sure it was clean.
But after her licking, the guest is still not satisfied and he wants to continue to punish her.
Lowering his head, he unzipped the zipper on his pants and pulled out his manhood, then picked up his wine glass and deliberately poured wine all over it, which caked on his testicles like light red dew.
“Lick every drop dry, slave.” Master ordered.
Aurinnea used all her skills to suck on her guest’s special thing. She had to make him happy and not angry anymore.
His youkai tasted good, the strong flavor of the wine and the taste of the semen he produced. She identified his bodily fluids with her tongue, slippery with a starburst of wonderful saltiness. Fear and excitement mingled as Olenya felt a dampness between her legs. She suddenly wished that her guest would pin her down on the floor or table, ride her, and then let his hardness enter her.
To O’Lingya’s amazement, a few seconds later, the guest’s testicles suddenly hardened and squirted some milky white liquid over her tongue. Some squirted onto her face and some landed on the guest’s own black pants.
Soon she realized that several of the men were on their feet and gathered around her, one angry. Her heart constricted in surprise yet mixed with a hint of excitement. She had been reluctant to feel desire, yet here, in this strange and terrifying place, all her guards were lifted, and there were only desires, strong desires to be possessed. These desires broke down the defenses of her will.
“Look what you’ve done, slave!” He snarled as she looked at her master with a complicated look of mingled fear and excitement.
“Punish her, punish her now,” one of the guests screamed, grabbing her by the hair and making her writhe in agony.
“Flog her, or use the cat-o-nine-tails?”
They easily lifted O’Lingya up and made her grovel over the grave, her head bowed obediently.
She had been prepared for the pain when the first swat hit her body and she flinched in pain. Similar to the fear she felt when grabbing a viper and bringing it close to her chest, what was it to endure a few swats.
As the intensity of the spanking intensified and rained down on Olenya, her thoughts went back to making love with Lars in a snowdrift on a mountainside in Sweden. They’d stepped out of the hot, steamy shower and had run right into the snow, collapsing into the fluffy snowdrift. It was like they were on fire. The coldness of the snow and the fire of her body seemed so contradictory.
It was springtime, and the bright sun shone down on the mountainside, as well as pleasurably watching the two of them roll into a ball in the snow. Huffing and puffing, the fit ski instructor had lost himself in the extreme pleasure and discomfort, while O’Lingya was so excited she couldn’t breathe. Her body felt like it was on fire, even though she was so cold, so very, very cold.
Russ entered her gently, skillfully, and she was suddenly wet underneath and hungry for him. This burning became more and more intense as they melded together in harmony, like a sizzling furnace. Finally, she forgot about the cold, the snow, the discomfort, and became completely enraptured by the exciting, magical symphony.
Now, as the nine-tailed cat rose and fell, lashing at her and producing a red mark, she felt a similar burning. A burning that entered the depths of her mind and radiated outward, sensitizing every nerve ending. Her thoughts were confused, no longer thinking of resistance, and she felt as if she were bathing in the rolling waves with a complex sense of excitement.
Voices surrounded her, weaving a web of sound, and she didn’t care. Only joy was actually present; this moment of joy.
There was a sudden new agitation – sharp and keen. In a flash, she simply hadn’t realized what was going on. Soon she learned it was the handle of the cat-o-nine-tails slipping between her legs and touching her sensitive parts. She wriggled to meet the lovely intruder, and moaned with pleasure as her pussy throbbed gently to a kind of euphoric climax.
Happy, ultimately happy.
“So be it, sweet slave.”
Olingya tried to break free, but the chain held her firmly, and iron rings embedded in the old brick walls of the cemetery hoisted her up.
“Struggling is futile, my dear. The chain is strong, and I have put a lock on it.”
“But …… what are you going to do with me now?”
“What disposition, dear? Why, it’s all over! My work is done.”
The host and his guest extinguished their wax candles and flashlights and turned to walk up the steps leading outside.
“Where are you going?”
There was no reply, only the faint light from a wax candle that illuminated the dimly lit room. Finally, the Master stepped onto the last step and turned toward Olenya one last time, “We must face our fears, my dear slave. Utilize them; explore them; enjoy them.”
He raised his hand to extinguish the last of the wax candles and pushed Olenya into the darkness. Fear began to gnaw at her heart as the heavy door slammed shut. He was gone, and she was left alone. Candle and fear accompanied her in the darkness.
Chapter XII
The room was dark and cold; O’Lingya was hearing night insects fluttering somewhere in the darkness. She tried her best to calm herself, to reassure herself that this was all only part of the ordeal, but from time to time a terrible voice came through her body: why did they leave you here? Did they forget about you and leave you in this hellhole to die?
Time passed – she had no idea how long she had been missing. The biting cold wrapped around her and she was covered in goosebumps. She was so alone and helpless, and no one even knew she was here. Had all this been caused by her own ego and greed? Did this pain have to wait until she was dead and rotting to go away?
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn’t let them drip. Oleander never cried, even here, in this place where no one saw her.
A bright light suddenly illuminated her, and she couldn’t get used to her eyes in the face of the carrying lamp.
“Light the candles and flashlights.” A highly unfamiliar voice spoke, and O’Lingya couldn’t help but be torn between hope and fear. Was someone coming to rescue him, or was someone coming to continue inflicting pain on him? Could it be the end of her ordeal?
The candles were lit, gradually illuminating the dark room. O’Lingya realized that there were seven men standing in front of her – ordinary-looking men in suits and ties, as if they were going to a business meeting. O’Lingya recognized one of the officers as a messenger, but the others were strangers.
“Good night, O’Reillya.”
Seven men stood in a semicircle around her.
“Are you going to untie me now? My arms are hanging out of joint.”
“Very good.”
“Have I …… satisfied you that I have passed the test?”
The members of the organization smiled and nodded.
“You’ve done well, O’Lingya. We were deeply impressed by your passion and talent. And, immovable in the face of danger and fear. Your treatment of the cobra, for example – most memorable.”
“But it wasn’t dangerous. You guys pulled out its fangs, didn’t you?”
“No, Ms. O’Lingaye! It’s a cobra that hasn’t had its fangs pulled out, which, of course, won’t happen to you again.”
O’Lingya couldn’t help but want to vomit; she hadn’t realized at the time at all that she was so close to death.
“A member of the Organization should never fear danger, O’Linya – I think your father taught you that. Now, my dear, there is one more challenge you must overcome before we grant you entry into the organization.”
“There’s another challenge? Wasn’t I told I only had to complete seven trials?”
“My dear Olingya, the procedure for entering the organization is closely planned, as I am sure you will understand. All candidates, before they are allowed to enter the organization, not only must their skill, courage and endurance satisfy us, they must also be capable of self-denial.”
“This is your mission, my dear.” The officer explained, stepping out of the shadows and placing his hands gently on Aurinia’s breasts. “We’re going to use all our skills and talents to stimulate your body. But you, my dear, must endure. If you give any indication of desire, you are to die. Are you willing?”
O’Lingya’s thoughts were again in turmoil. What was going on here? How could she still not escape the shadow of death when she had already crossed the border and traveled so far? Fear assailed her. But she knew that she couldn’t fail in this final grind. There was no turning back in the world.
“I do,” she replied, “and I am not afraid.”
Hands reached out to her body, hands with lust on their fingertips. These hands knew any corner of a woman’s body, any route to arouse her. She had nowhere to run, she was powerless to avoid their touch.
Ou Lingya bit her lips tightly, not saying a word until her lips bit out blood, knowing that she had to suppress the desire that surged wildly within her. But the desire flooded like a dike breaking, drowning her and devouring her.
Those words echoed in her head again and again: death or self-denial, death or self-denial.
It was such a cruel, impossible choice that, suddenly, she realized what she should do. She opened her eyes, and in the dimness of the swaying candlelight, she cried out, “Death! If death is the punishment for pleasure, then I choose death! I will not deny my desires!”
At once, the men drew their hands back and removed them from her quivering, yearning body.
“Make me happy before I die! I have a right to ask for pleasure.”
They undid the iron rings that hung her and laid her on the platform of the tomb, and their hands, tongues, and keen fingers fell upon her again, arousing her. She moaned and screamed without fear and loudly. Now she looked forward to the climax of pleasure and desire when she reached it. She truly realized that what the stranger had told her was correct.
Lust – anonymous, pure lust – all here and now, in her. Soon she would have to suffer the evil consequences of her greed, but for now, desire was her true master.
She was so completely absorbed in what was happening to her that the fear of retribution did not hold her back now. All she felt was joy. In a strange way, she overcame her fear.
She lay stretched out on all fours on top of the grave for a long, long time; she was delirious with pleasure. Then, to her surprise, she was gently lifted up and stood on the ground. There was a roar of laughter all around her.
The Chief was the first to speak, “Please accept my most heartfelt congratulations, Ms. O’Lingaye.”
“Good luck with …… What does that mean?”
“Miss, you don’t yet understand the momentous decision you’ve made for yourself. You see, Miss, a true member of the organization always puts desire before denial, even when punished by death. Your father is very proud of you, Olingya.”
“You mean ……?”
“Ah, my lady, welcome to the organization and become a part of it.”
Sitting on the flight to London, Ou Lingya couldn’t help but look back on the events of the past few days with joy.
It had been an eventful week, with everything that she had hoped for happening. Soon, she would land at Hiteslaw, and Joshimu would be there to greet her. It was the happiest choice she had made since her life had returned to normal.
She kept playing with the golden ring she wore on her right hand: the ring of the symbol of the “Great Love Demon” organization. She recalled the last words Joshimo had said to her before he left for his first major exhibition in London: “You’ve taught me so much, Ms. O’Leary. Before I met you, I knew nothing – just a naughty boy. I feel there is much more to learn from you.”
When she remembered these words from Qiao Xi Mu, she couldn’t help but have a happy smile ripple across her lips.
Now that she has the guidance of the “Big Love Devil” organization, O’Lingya will teach Joshimo everything a man needs to know.