Chapter 23

The preparations were a remarkable experience. First, as Marion and Karla were leaving the table, Barbara rose and told the Duke that she was going to prepare him for the evening, too. Since Karla had commandeered the master bath, Barb took Donald to hers which was nearly as large.

Now the two women were in the bathtub together. Filled with water, there was a layer of musk oil floating on the surface that Karla gently worked into Marion’s body. For her part, she was floating on her back being supported by Karla just enough to keep the top surface of her body out of the water. Although her body was still ripped with lacerations, ever since Susie had worked on her there had been neither any bleeding nor any pain. Still Karla used the greatest delicacy in working the oil into the length of the lacerations to try to avoid scarring.

“Am I hurting you, Mother?” Karla asked softly.

“My darling daughter!” Marion whispered. “You can’t hurt me. But what you’re doing feels so utterly marvelous.” Then she gently pulled Karla’s face toward hers.

Seeing what she wanted, Karla just melted her lips to Marion’s. The instant their lips touched, Karla experienced a sensation totally different from anything she could remember. It had the same overwhelming love and grace she always had with Barb’s kisses, but there was something more. Tears came to her eyes as she realized she was truly kissing her mother, and it had been so many years since that had last happened.

Marion, too, had the same sensation. Reaching out, she pulled Karla closer and gently caressed the back of her neck. The girl moaned in her arms and hugged her tightly.

When they parted, she looked into Karla’s eyes and realized the girl was crying. “What’s wrong, my darling?” she whispered. “Did I hurt you?”

Karla couldn’t speak. Instead, she just shook her head and held Marion even tighter. Finally regaining control she said, “You really are my mother! I can’t believe it. Mom, I love Barbara Sloan more than any person alive, except for maybe Doug. But with you, it’s different. For you I have a daughter’s natural love for her mother. And your kiss was so incredibly wonderful!”

“Are you finished yet, daughter?” Marion asked. “Or are you just playing? I’m supposed to get fucked sometime tonight, after all.”

“Mommy, could I ask you one more thing?”

“Sure, darling,” Marion responded. “What’s the ‘one more thing’?”

“It’s with Doug,” Karla replied softly. “I’m doing something wrong. When I’m sucking his cock, try as I might, I can’t seem to get him to hold back.”

“He cums right away?” Marion asked. “Is that the problem?”

“Not right away. He keeps me in orgasm for thirty minutes sometimes, but when I’m going down on him, after only fifteen or twenty minutes, he cums!”

“There’s no warning?”

“Oh, sure!” Karla replied. “I mean ... Well, he’s screaming, pounding the bed with his fists and begging for release. I change my tempo, the pressure ... everything! But he cums anyway.”

“Are you doing anything else when you give him a blow job?” Marion asked, now trying to control a grin.

“Oh, sure,” the girl replied. “I’m molding my mouth to his cock while I’m sucking as hard as I can; I knead his balls ... Boy, does that ever cause him to scream. I lick its head like an ice-cream cone. And his cock keeps getting fatter and longer. But what am I doing wrong?”

“One more question: What happens when he finally does cum? What do you do then?”

“I squeeze his balls hard in rhythm with his pulsations. He just cums and cums ... There must be quarts of his luscious juice. And he usually cries. But then,” she added sorrowfully, “it’s all over. I mean ... And he’s not even empty. I don’t think I’ve gotten more than 75 percent of his cum out ... Ever! What can I do?”

The two women climbed out of the tub that was more like a pool. To Karla’s surprise, Marion put her on the massage table and began to massage her body. Continuing the conversations she said, “Darling, have you ever gone down on a man before Doug?”

“Only the Russians in prison. But I really didn’t know what was happening. All I knew was that I was getting some respite from the constant whipping. Each stroke was like a white-hot wire cutting into my body. Guys were sticking their cocks in my mouth but all I could think of was that I was avoiding those wires for a few more minutes. But why did you ask?”

“Because, my darling, you gave Doug Whitfield the finest blow job in the history of the world! My God! Never in a million years could I do what you’ve been doing to him and get the same results.”

Karla was lying on her back while Marion gently worked more musk oil into her skin. Then she asked, “Darling, why didn’t you ever ask Barb? She’s your sister, after all.”

“Because she might have laughed. Or teased me about it unmercifully.

“But what about me? I could tease you, too, you know.”

“But you won’t,” Karla responded flatly.

“And why won’t I?” Marion asked, raising an eyebrow which caused Karla to giggle girlishly.

“Because you’re my mommy,” she replied simply. “Mommies are supposed to answer their daughter’s dumb questions. And they’re supposed to keep a straight face. Or try to, anyway.”

“My darling, I can’t tell you what you’ve just done for me,” Marion said. “I run my fingers over your body and all I feel are incredible muscles—”

“Isn’t it awful?” Karla interrupted. “For a woman to have bulging muscles, I mean...”

“Your muscles most certainly do not bulge, Karla!” Marion exploded. “They’re just there. And covered with the most perfect satin-smooth skin.” Then she shook her head and added, “I truly believe that you are one of God’s most perfect female creatures.”

Then she grinned at Karla, shook her head again and asked, “However ... Aside from holding the world record at 400 meters, being the savior of your country, being the most beautiful, most loving woman alive ... What have you done lately?”

Karla’s brow furrowed as she thought for a moment. Then with a grin she said, “I cooked the saddle of venison tonight. Doesn’t that count?”

Marion looked up at the ceiling and put her forefinger against her chin. Then she cocked her head to the left, then to the right. “Oh, well,” she said finally, “I guess everyone’s entitled to have an off day once in a while.”

Then seeing a question in Karla’s eyes she asked with feigned exasperation, “Now what?”

“Mom, do you think ... maybe sometime ... I mean ... Could we ever invite Anna and Maria to visit?” Then with her words tumbling over themselves she added, “They’re really no trouble! I mean ... they cook, and clean. They’re very neat...”

“Might you be referring to Maria, la Duchesse du Bourgogne, Marquessa de Toledo, and her sister, Anna, Marquise de Flandres, Contessa di Pavia? That Anna and Maria?” Marion asked skeptically. “I mean, take Maria, for example. Do you really expect your dad to invite every jumped up knight-errant who happens to be riding around? I mean ... Really! Good heavens, girl! Her title is scarcely 1,000 years old. Heaven only knows what will happen to the family over the next millennium.”

“Mommy, are you teasing me?” Karla asked with a suspicious look in her eye.

“Moi? Tease my only daughter? Good grief, child, you must be kidding.” Then she paused and continued, “Take that other one, Anna. Aside from half of Belgium and the industrial portion of Italy, what does she bring to the party?”

Then she paused and appeared to think some more. “Oh, well, since they have a lock on the Nobel Prize for Physics this year, I suppose we might make an exception just this once. And they are your sisters, too, aren’t they?”

“Oh, Mommy, they will love it here! There’s nothing like this in all of the Czech Republic.”

“Nothing nearly so desolate, you mean?” Marion asked with a grin. “And I mean ... there’s so much to do here, too. You can count the heather blossoms on the moor, I suppose, but that’s only in August. You can watch the sheep graze. I mean, that’s nearly as exciting as watching paint dry or grass grow.”

“How about breaking in the torture chamber?” Karla suggested. “And since they’re the same size, you wouldn’t even have to change the manacles. And besides,” she concluded, “there’s nothing like noble blood to properly season the whips, is there?”

While she was finishing, she was climbing off the massage table. “Mom, that was utterly super. But it’s your worn-out body that I’m supposed to be working on. Now get up here.”

With that they changed places. Karla gently worked more of the expensive oil into the lacerations all over Marion’s body, then she worked it into her cunt. Turning her over, she had her kneel and bend over so she could gently open her anus. “Do you take men in the rear?” she asked.

“All the time, darling,” Marion replied.

Her voice was muffled by the mattress of the massage table and she was almost asleep from the wonderful lassitude Karla’s massage had created in her muscles. Finally the job was completed. Karla helped her off the table, guided her into the bedroom, and helped her up onto the bed. As she completed the final touch of putting tiny white carnations in her pubic patch and behind her ear, Barb entered the room while leading the Duke by his erect cock.