Chapter 28

Following the dinner, we took the Baker women into the master bathroom. (I still hadn’t seen the room (suite?) Julia said they had for me.) Julia concentrated on scrubbing Charlie — and I mean scrubbing! I thought she was going to take off the poor girl’s skin — while Kate and I worked on Jean. She was even dirtier than her daughter, but was covered with still-bleeding whip cuts.

Remarkably, our working on her still-bleeding body didn’t bother her a bit. In fact, both Kate and I were shocked when she ordered us to scrub her body harder. “You’ll never get me even passably clean this way!”

“But your body... !” Kate protested.

“Being cut and bleeding has been my normal condition for more than fifteen years!” Jean retorted. “Besides ... It’s so much better than last week...”

“Last week... ?” Kate prompted.

“I was ordered to rub salt into all my wounds,” Jean said softly, “while thanking the guys for allowing me to do it, too.”

I saw even Kate swallow hard at that one. Like me, she seemed to be having a problem keeping her dinner down. But we did increase our efforts.

Then I made a terrible mistake. I mentioned the sauna.

“What’s a sauna?” Jean asked.

I tried to duck the question, but I’m not nearly mentally quick enough to pull that one off. After I had haltingly tried to explain what it was, again we were amazed.

“Goody!” Jean exclaimed. “That sounds so incredibly neat! Can we do it?”

“But the scraping... !” Kate protested.

“ ... will get more of the dirt out,” Jean finished.

So we did. As we went out to the little sauna shed, I found myself beside Charlie and received a shock. With her close beside me I realized that she was almost as tall as I was; she was at least five feet nine. Then I realized that the difference was my bulk. She was very slender while I ... Forget about me. The chief slob of Slobovia, remember? That says it all. Later I was truly astounded to learn that she weighed over 150 pounds. I didn’t think it was possible until Julia — who had weighed Charlie on the scale — pointed out that Charlie was all muscle and muscle is much heavier per unit of volume than fat.

Julia went to work on Charlie’s body with a vengeance, while Kate and I still tried to go easy. But that was not what Jean had in mind at all. With both of us scraping, she went through a series of bodily contortions to give us access to every square inch of her body. Was that all? Hah! She had us pull out every single hair in her pubic area ... and insisted that Julia do Charlie the same way.

I have to confess that Jean took it far better than Charlie did. Not only did Jean not make a sound, she didn’t even grimace. Charlie, on the other hand, was a nonstop source of squeals, squeaks and cries. I think we heard from her as every individual hair was removed!

When we finished, Kate did to Jean what earlier I had done to her. She used her tit to go over every inch of Jean’s groin searching for the least little hair. Kate’s nipples are naturally taut at all times anyway but, because of the contact with Jean’s vagina, they became even more so. Then she again copied my actions from earlier in the day: she used her engorged nipple gently to tease Jean’s clit.

This did evoke a reaction. Jean’s eyes widened and she murmured, “What are you doing?” Before either of us could say a word, her pelvis erupted in orgasm; she had her answer. Or did she? “Good grief!” she exclaimed. “What was that?”

“That, dear Jean, was an orgasm,” Kate replied softly.

Jean had been lying on her back on the wooden bench, more than half asleep in spite of our torturing her crotch. She raised her torso up and supported herself on her elbows. “An orgasm?” she said. “I thought only men had those.”

Kate and I exchanged looks. “She was a virgin when she was raped, Kate,” I explained softly.

Kate’s eyes widened. “You poor dear!” Then she slowly shook her head and said, “Dearest Jean, a woman can certainly have an orgasm. Bill keeps me in that condition for over an hour at a time.” Then, while slowly shaking her head, she added, “Why he wants to is utterly beyond me. I mean ... After a while, it’s just the same-old, same-old.”

“But what about you?” Jean asked with her eyes wide.

“I’m so out of it,” Kate replied casually, “I wouldn’t know if it was five seconds or five hours. I’m just shaking myself to pieces with all my sensation — my whole life, in fact — in my cunt. I’m too out of it to be bored.”

It was apparent to me that Kate was going to go further, but she stopped. “But if we don’t get out of here pretty soon, I’m going to be going down the drain,” she declared.

Julia had finished with Charlie by then — tear streaks were running down Charlie’s cheeks and she looked thoroughly miserable — so we shut down the sauna and went outside. Kate, Julia, and even I, jumped feet first into the freezing pool. Somehow controlling my teeth that wanted to chatter like castanets, I said, “Come on in, you guys. It’s a great way to cool down!”

The Baker women exchanged looks and then jumped in the way we did. You know what? I think their screams might have easily been heard in the next county! It was thoroughly delightful.

Kate, Julia and I jumped out and I gave Charlie a hand. But Jean just floated while periodically sinking deeper to immerse her whole head.

“What are you doing?” Kate demanded.

“Oh, Kate! You won’t believe how great this ice water feels on my cuts ... and on my tortured crotch, too.”

Shaking her head in frustration, Kate just reached down and yanked the woman out by her arm. “Come on, lady,” she declared, “there are a few more things to do before I rejoin my lord and master.”

But when she set Jean down on her feet, her legs just gave way and the woman sank down to the pool terrace. With another shake of her head, Kate effortlessly picked the woman up in her arms and carried her into the bathroom, setting her on a massage table. There she lay while Kate proceeded to work on her body using a combination of musk oil and something else.

I asked about the “something else”.

“Oh ... That’s just a healing concoction we put together. It’s supposed to eliminate scar tissue.” She grinned and added, “And in view of Jean’s condition, it will get a real test!”

Boy, she sure had that one right! The woman’s back, particularly, was virtually nothing but scar tissue. It was easy to see where any number of cuts had gone right down to the rib bones beneath. But, remarkably, the liquid seemed to work. I was astonished to see cuts begin to close up while I watched.

“Enough of this!” Kate declared. Giving me the bottle she said, “Now you do it. I’ve got to get back to my lord and master. He should be good and horny by now...” She paused and then added, “And if he’s not, I’m sure I’ll be able to make him that way.”

I continued the work Kate had begun. Meanwhile, Julia had Charlie on another massage table and the girl was still crying over her torn up loins. I passed the bottle to Julia who put some on Charlie’s crotch.

Immediately, the crying stopped. “So good...” the girl murmured

Hmm ... It seems to do more than handle cuts, I thought.

We finished up, and Julia led Charlie hobbling toward her suite. I was about to try to carry Jean — I don’t think she even weighed 100 pounds at the time — but she swung her legs over the side of the table and stood up by herself. She wasn’t too steady, though, and leaned on me for support as we moved out of the master bath in the direction of my suite.

It was truly lovely! Jean just gasped when she got a good look at it. We continued on through the sitting room to the bedroom beyond. While I pulled the spread from the king-size bed, Jean opened a sliding door to the closet. Again she just gaped, but began looking for something.

“Whatever would one do with a room like this?” she asked.

“That’s not a room, silly!” I replied. “That’s a closet.”

“But what’s it used for?” she asked.

“To store things, like clothes,” I answered.

“But...” she stammered, “You mean ... a woman might have more than a dress or two?”

I didn’t reply; I just giggled. Then I asked, “But what are you looking for, anyway?”

“I ... I thought there might be another blanket or something,” she replied softly. “But never mind,” she declared. “I don’t really need one. I haven’t had one for years, and there’s no sense in getting used to such fripperies now.”

I looked at the bed we were to share and couldn’t figure out what she was talking about. There was a beautiful candy-striped sheet set (who would weave such a thing, I wondered?) along with a beautifully soft cashmere blanket.

When I pointed these things out to her, Jean’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed. “Surely you can’t expect me to share your bed?”

“Oh?” I asked casually. “Why not?”

She began to cry. “I’ve said it before, Majesty, and I’ll say it again: I am a whore! Furthermore, I regularly — and lately, exclusively — did things no other hooker would even think of doing! Think of the worst things you can imagine a woman allowing to be done to her. Then multiply by a factor of at least ten! That’s me!” she screamed, then dissolved into tears.

I moved close and took her in my arms. Jean tried to struggle but — surprise! — I was too strong for her. Suddenly, her struggles just stopped. It was far more disheartening to me than were her struggles. She was surrendering to me completely; she was mine to do with as I would. It was scary!

For no good reason — showing off, maybe? — I lifted her up in my arms and gently laid her on the bed. She didn’t move, although tears were streaming unchecked down her cheeks.

“Why is it so cool in here?” she asked shyly.

“Oh! That’s the castle’s air-conditioning system,” I replied. “Isn’t it neat? The humidity was murderous today, but you would never know it here, would you?”

Very gently, I began to caress her body all over. When I got to her bare pussy, she spread her thighs in response to my pressure, but the volume of her tears increased substantially.

“Now what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I was just thinking of poor Charlie,” Jean replied. “She’s been going down on me regularly for years.” Slowly she shook her head and continued, “For months now, she’s been lapping up semen from dogs, horses, ponies ... almost anything on four legs with a cock.” She paused and then continued, “On the other hand, it’s been the only protein she’s had.”

I pulled the covers over us and wrapped Jean in my arms. Then I began to kiss her all over. Initially, she was startled, but when she realized that it was something I really wanted to do, she relaxed ... at least a little. After kissing her eyes, her ears, and her throat, I moved to her lips. They were cold and unresponsive for just a moment, but then she came to life.

“Mattie!” she breathed, “your lips are like sugar.” Jean began returning my kisses with increasing passion. Then she started to form her body to mine. The feeling was unreal!

This continued, with me moving my lips down her tortured body to her slit. Although I had never gone down on a woman, I had had it done often enough in my presence to have some idea of what to do. Realizing that Jean Baker had been torn up repeatedly and had only just had her pubic hair pulled out, I was as gentle as I could be. I guess it was funny, really. Her vagina was flowing as I penetrated with my tongue, but then I used my finger on her G-spot while I licked her clit.

She jumped! Honest to God, she jumped. But I was sufficiently larger and stronger that I could keep her down on the bed while I tormented her clit with the tip of my tongue. Soon, I had her cuming in buckets! I would take her up to a climax, let her down a bit, then take her up to a higher one.

By this time, Jean was sweating buckets to go with the cum she was ejecting in a steady stream. That woman was strong! But I held her down and kept working. Not only was it fun, but her cum cream became sweeter and sweeter as I did. Finally, she reached her ultimate orgasm and just collapsed; her internal circuits had all shorted out.

After thinking for a moment, I lifted her from the bed and carried her to our bathroom. Our bathtub wasn’t as large as the one in the master bath but it was plenty large enough. In ours, a bathtub orgy would have been restricted to four people or fewer, while the master’s tub could have handled a platoon! Anyway, I filled it with warm water and let her soak while I changed the sheets. While Jean had been looking through the closet, I had noticed that there was a spare set on the shelf there.

I changed the bed, then returned to the bath. Jean was starting to make weak-sounding noises by then, so I gently massaged her with musk oil, then lifted her out, dried her off and then carried her back to our room.

Once more in the bed, I cradled her in my arms. She was just so sweet! Finally, she blinked a few times and then realized where she was. At that point, there was a gleam in her eye that I didn’t recognize.

“Mattie,” she asked softly, “are you trying to make up for what’s happened to me over the years?”

To that, I just nodded.

“Well,” she continued in the same soft voice, “I think you could do it ... If you really want to...”

Quickly, I assured her that I would do absolutely anything to make it up to her.

“Anything?” she repeated.

“Absolutely anything!” I assured her.

“Well, then it’s easy,” she said. “Let’s see ... Donald is due here in about three weeks?”

I nodded.

“Okay...” she mused. Then she continued, “Let’s see ... When you had me thrown into the dungeon, we were working on Greek and Latin, weren’t we?”

Suddenly I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. But I nodded.

“Neato! First thing tomorrow, we’ll get going with Aristotle and Cæsar’s Commentaries! Won’t that be fun?”

The bitch! You wouldn’t believe how many dead Greeks and Romans we went through in what turned out to be five weeks. But that wasn’t all! She had me reading plays written by a guy named Shakespeare.

“Actually, they were written by the 6^th Earl of Oxford,” Jean explained, “but playwriting was in ill repute at the time — about 300 years from now — so a guy named Shakespeare has his name on them.”

One of his plays we read was a lot of fun. It was called, “Taming of the Shrew” and the shrew was named Katherine. This caused King Bill no end of merriment, but for some reason Kate was not nearly as amused. In fact, one evening she was preparing dinner while the rest of us — Bill, Jean, Charlie, Julia and me — sat at the kitchen table having our before-dinner drinks and watching her work. Bill again began teasing her about being a shrew.

At that point Kate seemed to interrupt what she was doing and started rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. My curiosity got the best of me and I asked, “Kate, what are you doing?”

“Oh ... nothing...” she replied vaguely.

“It doesn’t look like nothing to me,” I retorted. “It appears that you’re looking for something.”

She turned and glared at me. “As a matter of fact, I’m looking for a special seasoning I have for your entrée tonight.”

“Special seasoning? What’s that?”

“Cyanide!” she replied. “Bitch!”

I’m sure there was really nothing to her comment, but I didn’t eat very much that night. Actually, I’m sure it was just another means she used to keep me on my diet.

But I’m getting ahead of my story. We were in bed after Jean’s multiple orgasms. Even after having a lovely bath, her pelvis was occasionally still shaking with after-shocks. The woman held me in her arms and actually molded her body to mine. That’s the last thing I remembered as we both drifted off to sleep.

The bed was at least as comfortable as Kate’s and I was feeling warm and wonderful as I began to awaken the next morning. Only then did I become aware of a wonderful sensation in my pussy. Looking down, I saw Jean on her knees between my widespread thighs feasting on my cunt.

It was funny, really. Periodically, she would pause and mentally review what I had done to her the night before and then tried to do the same thing with me. All I can say is that she was a very fast learner. She took me from one orgasm to an even more powerful one, over and over and over. She even found my G-spot, even though she didn’t have the slightest idea what it was. That was about the last thing I remembered.