Chapter 8

Although Claudia had made up her mind to leave Jose, she still lived with him in the studio, waiting for the little twist of fate that would bring her a solution to this new and perplexing problem. Always in her moments of doubt and indecision she had encountered some person who crystallized all that was amorphous within her. Claudia was mentally at loose ends. She knew she would leave Jose at the first opportunity.

The artist now rode on the crest of the wave. Fame and fortune were his at the height of his manhood. But life with him became increasingly unbearable for Claudia. His demands upon her grew more and more exacting and peculiar, but fortunately he had little time to devote to his perverted and decadent pleasures.

One afternoon Claudia sat alone in the studio. Jose had gone to a women's club luncheon. He disliked doing so, of course, but that kind of thing was a necessary evil. Claudia sat absently turning the leaves of a book of verse when the antique door knocker sounded. She answered its summons to find herself face to face with a slender young Chinese of medium height. He held his hat in his hand and her first impression as he bowed deeply to her was one of sleek, jet-black hair with a clean white line running exactly through the middle, fine eyebrows and long lashes. And now, as he straightened and broke into a smile, there was an attractive flash of white teeth and his soft brown eyes held a strange appeal to her. He spoke in a smooth, cultured voice with a crisp British accent.

"I'm looking for Jose Vidal, the artist."

"I'm sorry to say that Mr. Vidal is not in at present. I expect him later in the afternoon," Claudia told him.

He made his courteous little bow and turned as if to leave.

"Pardon me." He gave her an intense look. "Are you not his model?" There was a suppressed note of excitement in his tone.

She nodded her head and smiled. "Yes, I posed for Jose."

"Then perhaps I can talk over my mission with you. My name is Lee Moy. I am operating for a syndicate a club which no doubt you have heard of: 'The Chinese Lily.' I was wondering whether we could persuade Mr. VidaJ to do a series of murals for our supper club. We are considering a new fall opening and we wish to decorate our place with something a bit novel."

Claudia was silent for a moment. "Don't you think, Mr. Moy, that for your purpose you might do better with one of your own artists, a good Chinese painter who might depict the scenes of your country with greater warmth and fidelity."

He smiled. "Your point is rather well-taken. However, we have great faith in Mr. Vidal as an artist and his signature upon the murals would be of great value to us in the way of publicity. And, by the way, I will stipulate that you pose for him."

"In the nude?" Claudia asked.

"You would be beautiful in nature's costume or any other," Moy told her earnestly.

Claudia found his ardor intriguing. He was extremely good to look at. His skin was a light beige color and accentuated the whiteness of his teeth and the blackness of his crisp little moustache.

His clothes were unobtrusive perfection. She was flattered by his obvious interest in her and thought him very handsome.

"Won't you sit down, please, Mr. Moy?"

He seated himself with amusing alacrity. "When my club is all completed you must come. You will be my special guest."

"How special?" she smiled.

He showed her his white even teeth. "Very, very special, indeed. In fact I would like to make you my guest before the club opens. Why not this very moment?" He became excited at the idea. "Yes, I cannot bear to think that you will spend such a lovely afternoon in this stuffy studio. I insist that you allow me to take you somewhere for a little drive."

Claudia hesitated, then shrugged. Why not? She was finished with Vidal. This man was obvious interested in her. She liked him very much. The fact that he was Chinese meant nothing to her. It even lent to him a certain romantic touch. He was probably very nice and very amusing. Yes, she told him, she would be glad to go.

They descended the stairs together and entered his expensive motor car.

They got along splendidly from the very beginning. They seemed always to have something of interest to say to one another. If there was a halt in their conversation, it was one of sympathy. They understood each other's silences well. Claudia discovered that Moy had gone to the finest schools in Europe and America and was a power in the Chinese section of Chicago. She found in him a refinement surpassing that of any other man she had yet known. Still, she felt she could detect a deeply buried strain of Oriental cruelty within him, but that only increased the danger. Some women love danger. Claudia was that kind of woman. She resolved to let her acquaintance with Moy run a natural course and to follow where it led.

They stopped at a little country cottage for tea. They were miles from the city and all about them was idyllic seclusion. It took the stiffness out of the pair and made them feel as though they had been friends for a long time. There is something about the country that seems to rub out barriers and inhibitions and to make progress between two persons move along naturally.

They lingered over the teacups and smoked cigarettes, chatting idly of this and that.

Moy said, "You must be leading a most interesting life in your capacity as a model. It must be fascinating to view a man of great talent close up."

Claudia smiled with a trace of bitterness. "Geniuses are not to be lived with. For them there is only seclusion. They should hibernate like the bear and then come out of their dens lean and weak and hungry to devour everything in sight before they go back to the travail of creating. They have no normal life and do not desire such an existence. I am quite certain they are correct in their instincts."

"There are compensations," Moy ventured.

"Perhaps. The only one for a woman would be an all-consuming love. Lacking that, it would be ridiculous to go on."

Moy's hand slid over hers. "I sense that you are suffering."

Claudia was quiet all the way back to town.

When they got there, Vidal had just returned and he and Moy spent considerable time discussing the project. Vidal at last agreed to the terms and the subject matter and Moy took his leave. Claudia was certain that relief lay in that quarter, but for the time being she decided to go along with things as they were.

Jose was too busy to molest her much, and Moy found his contact with the artist a splendid approach to seeing her. Vidal was quite indifferent and Claudia spent many hours with Moy. They were a striking and familiar couple as they haunted the smartest spots in town. Heads turned and necks craned as the inevitable "Who is that?" reached their ears in sibilant whispers. Claudia soon became accustomed to being seen in Moy's company. She knew he burned for her, but he kept himself under rigid control and she admired him for it. He would only yield under the greatest of strains. It was a result of his Spartan training and Oriental philosophy. He possessed an almost feminine delicacy and consulted her wishes about everything.

In the meanwhile, Vidal was progressing with the panels. Moy invited the girl to come down to the club one night, to view a panel Jose had completed. The large establishment was in picturesque disorder during the period of decoration. They had just begun; the half-finished and the completed stood side by side.

The panel, a nude of Claudia upon a background of Chinese landscape, was hung over the world-famous bar. There was a lovely harmony between the golden brown of the gleaming length of bar and the dazzling ivory of the smiling girl poised like some houri out of an Oriental garden of paradise. How well Jose had captured the melting tones of her translucent flesh. He had drawn her standing on tiptoe, her arms thrown backwards over her head and all the glorious curves were highlighted and thrown into greater prominence. Moy's lips trembled as he studied the picture.

"What a feeling for flesh the man has! I suppose living with him has made the thought of another man impossible." He looked at her intently. She gave him the answer he desired. "All Jose's sensuality is expressed on canvas . . . and nowhere else."

He seemed enormously relieved, and continued to stare at the picture of the beautiful woman beside him. Claudia tugged at his sleeve. "You're not going to keep me here all night while you study me in the nude, are you, Lee."

He flushed. "The man is a consummate artist," he said, but he was fooling no one. Claudia knew he was hers if she but willed it. She determined to play out the cards until she was absolutely positive that Vidal had degenerated beyond all repair. That evening she came to an irrevocable decision.

She had made preparations for going to bed and left her room for a moment to get some toilet articles she kept in the bathroom. She had of necessity to pass through the studio. As she entered the large room she saw Jose sprawled over the floor, his face buried in some of her soiled undergarments. He was sniffing like an animal and rolling over and over in strange ecstasy. Now he sat upon the floor and grasped his tumescent penis and was rolling its length with the palm of his hand against his belly-masturbating while he continued to sniff the perspiration-stained underclothes. Claudia was sickened by the sight and forever after she retained that horrible picture of unmanly pollution. Jose Vidal was besmirched for Claudia.

When she rose the next morning she told Vidal that they had come to the parting of the ways. He ranted and raved and staged a spectacular show, but in the end Claudia left him looking after her with dull, expressionless eyes.

She found a pleasant room in a nearby apartment-hotel and managed to get word to Moy. He came to see her almost immediately.

"I am most happy to find you have severed your connections with Vidal," he told her in the rather formal manner he was addicted to. He did not push the matter any further at the moment. Instead, he insisted upon taking her out to the Dells. The well-known nightclub furnished an excellent background for the new mood Claudia was in that night. The gay music and surroundings and a few highballs put her into a receptive mood and she danced with Moy many times. Stiff respect began to thaw as the warmth of her body bore against him and they moved in sensuous rhythms. They both stood about the same height and made a handsome and distinctive pair as they glided over the dance floor, the cynosure of all eyes.

When the dance was over and they walked back to their table Moy whispered to her, "You are intoxicating. Vidal must be a fool to let you go so easily."

Claudia smiled. She had learned that with many men most of the thrill lay in the hunt. Their interest ceased with the capture. Moy did not know it, but he was in for a real chase; only he would be the hunted where he thought he was the hunter. Women are a selective sex.

When they drove home that night through the scented night the fields looked ghostly in the dark. The Lindbergh Beacon cut a sharp path through the murky skies. All of nature had a mysterious touch, like a landscape of Corot. Claudia rested her head upon Moy's shoulder and felt him throb beneath her weight. The scent of her hair set his heart pounding. He could look down and see the lovely curves of her breasts as her crumpled gown hung slackly because of her half-reclining position. The ripe fruit hung from the beautiful bough for someone to pluck and, by the eternal Buddha, Moy was determined to be that someone.

Night after night the little comedy went on. Moy's patience was little short of frightening. One night, however, the break came.

Claudia had suggested they stay in. Moy fell in with her idea enthusiastically. They could have a dinner sent up and spend the evening in Claudia's apartment. The weather was quite threatening, too.

"Let's make it something special," Claudia suggested, and she lit candles instead of using the harsher and more prosaic electric light. They dined in the golden glow of the tapers, facing each other across its tender radiance, which did wonders toward setting off Claudia's beauty. Moy could scarcely keep his eyes upon his plate.

"You sparkle," he said to her in a voice thrilling to hear, "like a beautiful gem on a background of velvet. Your face is round and full and mysterious like a tropical moon that hangs close overhead. Your hair is a soft black casque which frames the ivory perfection of your face. You are like a flower, like . . . "

Claudia stayed his flow of speech with a gesture of her hand. "Are you making love to me, Lee?"

He was taken aback by her directness. "I suppose I am," he said. "What man could do otherwise? If I have offended you . . . "

"You couldn't offend me," Claudia told him.

He smiled his pleasure.

They finished the meal at last and cleared away the little table. Claudia threw open the casement windows which looked out upon the great lake shimmering in the distance. A light rain was beginning to fall like a benediction over the city.

"I think I'll change into something a bit more comfortable, if you'll excuse me a moment. I'll get you a drink when I return, Lee."

"Don't be too long," he told her.

He knew how lovely the girl was, but he was not prepared for the vision that greeted him when she returned in a daring, filmy negligee.

"Here's your drink, Lee," she said in her throaty voice as he held out a trembling hand.

"You look like a proud fairy ship rising out of a frothy sea of lace," he said.

She smiled her thanks and sank gracefully upon a long divan. He dropped easily upon a cushion like a true Oriental and he put his glass to his lips without taking his liquid eyes off her. Her flowing, warmly rounded form made a mockery of the gauzy covering. It only made her person more maddening to the masculine eye. One fine leg was outstretched and one delicious line melted into another until the swelling of her thighs could only be hinted at. Moy ran his finger inside his collar. His legs felt weak beneath him. He finally pulled himself up and nervously began to pace the room. Claudia acted as though they were sitting in a crowded restaurant. Her quick eyes saw the bulging rise of the front of his trousers. Poor boy, she thought. Well, a little suffering wouldn't hurt. It would only make the end sweeter. She would show him that she was not an easy prize to win.

She lay there and smiled, wondering how it would happen. How did an oriental, a Chinaman, make love? It would be a thrill. He was handsome. She had noticed the envious glances of the other women as Moy had dined and wined her as though she had been a princess. A yearning began to grow in her for physical contact with this slender young man who was so obviously all that a man should be. He stood over her and she pretended not to notice that his hands were opening and closing. She moved over a little. "Sit down, Lee, and stop that pacing up and down as though you were a tiger."

He laughed without any amusement in his tone and sat gingerly upon the divan as though he were afraid their combined weight would send them both crashing to the floor.

"Tell me about Chinese girls, Lee," she said lazily.

"There isn't much to tell, Claudia," he replied. "Women are not held in great esteem in my country. But we have no girls in China like you. Over there a woman is a chattela piece of goods-but here a woman commands."

"Can I command?" she asked provocatively.

He fumbled for an answer. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw his hands caressing a piece of her negligee. She moved closer to him.

She pressed him. "Would you take orders from me, Lee?" she asked in a sultry voice. He raised his eyes and she returned the look steadily. They met as on a field of battle. Moy was a worthy antagonist. She saw the color rise in his dark cheeks.

"If I thought you were playing with me . . . "

The masterful sound of his voice sent shivers through her. That was more like it. She was a lusty woman. She wanted poetry and distinction and culture, but above all her system craved virility. She sensed that Lee Moy possessed the latter. At any rate she was determined to find out.

"Then what would you do?" she challenged.

He raised her to her feet and looked deeply into her eyes. The spark flared into a flame. His hands held her shoulders and then slid down to her waist, resting on the sweet support of her hips. They burned through her scanty attire. Her red mouth parted slightly and her teeth gleamed whitely behind their crimson curtain. His lips closed on hers and he drank the honey-sweetness and her body began to ache with desire. They clung together in the silence until all they could hear was the combined beating of their hearts. She beat her hands upon his chest and at last he reluctantly released her so that she could draw her breath. She staggered as he led her to the divan. She had never before encountered so explosive a quality in a man. He snuggled close to her and his hands flew over her body like butterflies. He gave her no peace as he touched the erogenous areas in her body. Claudia gave herself up to the anatomical virtuoso. She brushed his temples and his cheeks with the incredible softness of her full lips until she felt him quiver. He tried to tell her to stop but it was too late. His unruly organ had exploded in his trousers. He was so mortified that he almost rushed from the room. Claudia led him to the bathroom.

"You will pardon me. It has been such a long time since I have been with a woman. The very thought of you has been enough to excite me, but when you kiss me like that I am no longer responsible for what I do. I get that feeling when I close my eyes and your wonderful face appears before me. I must beg one thousand pardons for having acted like a schoolboy."

Claudia watched him as he cleaned up in the bathroom. He took off his trousers and a long slender organ dropped out, driving her insane with desire. It was shaped like a banquet cigar. As he rubbed it with a towel it began to climb once more and the sight of its amazing length was almost more than Claudia could endure.

"You see!" Moy said proudly. "It comes back fast."

They went into the other room again and Claudia reclined once more upon the sofa. Moy showed his temper and his knowledge of female psychology by starting all over again. He understood the cardinal rule which every intelligent man applies to his sex life. A woman must be wooed separately for every sexual experience. Nothing must be taken for granted. Women, even more than men, have a great capacity for self-deception, and given half a chance will make a Romeo out of any buck-toothed cigar clerk. The Tin-Pan-Alley artist who wrote the song with the refrain, "I know you're lying but I love it," knew his women.

Moy was laving Claudia's body with his tongue. He pulled her nipples and sucked them with his hungry thrill-seeking mouth until they glowed like a cherry in the middle of a charlotte russe. Claudia looked down with joy upon her lover. To reach its finest heights the sexual act, like most things in life, is giving and taking. Now a dark slender finger was parting the lips of her orifice and he was rubbing his phenomenal penis upon her thigh. She spread her legs to prepare for love's feast. She raised her left leg to make entrance easy for her partner. He bent over her and pressed his body against her elastic flesh and it molded against his. Who can describe the joy Moy felt at having at last reached his goddess? In how many dreams did he hold Claudia in this same position and awake to find himself wetting the bed like an adolescent, and now he was knocking at the heavenly gates.

He drove his rigid staff into her and she began to move her hips as though someone had put a handful of gravel under them. Farther and farther he sank into her until it seemed he would never stop. She took his sweet length into her until it seemed that his penis would drive into her heart. She felt a choking sensation. She drew back her hips, but he was relentless in his lustful passion. He continued to press her backward until she was an actual prisoner of love. Claudia's ivory limbs joined about his waist and strained him in sweet embrace. He pressed his mouth to hers once more and their tongues ran riot in lascivious caresses. Her hips twirled and he drilled his spear into her with a vengeance. The moist insides of her vagina walls pressed upon his organ sending his brain reeling with delight. Claudia opened her eyes to see the flushed face of Lee above her. She derived an extra thrill when she saw his face almost smoking with sexual fury.

He tried to withdraw his dagger but her frenzied arms would not release his sweet burden.

"Stay with me, darling!" she cried. "Stay with me to the end."

And the end was not far off or long in coming.

The stored-up juices in Lee's sac began to plead for release before the heavy glands should burst beyond mere swelling. Nature's laws are always obeyed. The semen began to squirt into Claudia's love-cup. From an intermittent stream it changed to a mighty boiling gush which threatened to engulf both of them. Claudia released her fluid almost simultaneously and the tremendous flow overran her receptor and sped in rivulets over her fleshy thighs.

They clung to each other during this peak moment in life's flat chart with the desperation of a shipwrecked sailor to a piece of driftwood. When they had both spent so deliciously and completely, Lee allowed his organ to remain in its nest.

Claudia murmured, "Oh, it feels so good. Don't ever take it out."

"Never fear, my little blossom," Lee assured her. "I have found my lover and I mean never to let her go."

They remained wrapped in each other's arms. Their heat rose with the progress of the rain outside which was coming down in sheets. It began to come in through the window in a fine spray that felt delicious to their passion-wracked frames.

"Perhaps you should get up and close the window," Claudia whispered.

"It's not my window," Lee told her. She was already beginning to feel the swelling of his straining organ within her and she decided that a little rain wouldn't do much damage. Anyway, Lee had promised her a new oriental rug.

Her fingers went down to where they were so closely joined in bliss. His object had the hardness of a piece of walnut.

"Do all Chinese possess such long and hard things?" she asked.

He did not answer, for he was otherwise employed-gainfully so, one might add. With marvelously quick recuperative powers he was filling the juncture of her thighs with man-meat once more. Her sensitive insides responded to the touch and agonizing waves of pleasure swept through her. He reamed into her with his prodigious tool as though attempting to touch every nook and cranny in her vagina. He did not miss a sensory area. He nipped at her ears and lips with his amorous teeth; his hot breath titillated her entire being. She pressed his buttocks to her to absorb his offering up to the hilt. They jealously prolonged the act this time to fully savor its keen delight. They hoarded their imaginations like a miser hoards his gold and gave themselves up fully to a perfect rhythmic coitus. For thirty minutes they expended their energies in prolonging the mechanics of the act until human flesh could no longer stand up beneath the tantalizing strain. Nature has provided a fuse, when passion reaches an unendurable poignancy, to prevent the human system from becoming short-circuited. That fuse stood Claudia and Lee in good stead as their safety valves opened and released the warm, soothing orgasmic flow.

That night Lee taught Claudia many things of love. He was almost a satyr in his sexual capacity. It was like a meeting between two voracious animals. Sensation ran riot on the first evening of their carnal acquaintance.

At last they dropped back, exhausted from their exercise, and lay in that twilight state of heavenly lassitude. They asked for nothing more than to lie in each other's arms, half-asleep and half-waking. The rain came drifting in through the window.

The following day Claudia moved into Moy's apartment which was located upstairs of his club. She reveled in the oriental splendor of his home. Colorful silken tapestries hung over the dark teakwood walls; priceless Ming vases and exquisite examples of Chinese art lent a careless air of rich profusion to the entire place.

Moy installed her in his home as though she had been some ancient princess. Claudia could not help being touched by his consideration. For a long time she was happy in her new arrangement. No one could ask for more. Her every wish was anticipated. It was tremendously exciting at first to be thrust right into the heart of Chinatown. Moy introduced her to the mayor and many of the Chinese colony's famous characters: operators of dope dens, brothels and hatchet men. She was caught in a swirl of life few people have any conception of. She became familiar with the crooked little streets and the domino players lounging about the tea houses. Through some mysterious grapevine telegraph everyone in the district seemed to know her and they bowed and scraped as she passed. Lee Moy was a power among his people.

He kept her dressed in the most modest and expensive garments the town afforded. He delighted in showing her off and basked in the admiration she received on their tours of the city. He was known everywhere. The Chinese Lily was one of the show places of Chicago. Now that the club was newly decorated, it was thronged each night with gay and wealthy pleasure-seekers. This was no dine-and-dance for a clerk on his Saturday night off. The supper club attracted the finest clientele in town. A nationally famous orchestra and first-rate entertainment coupled with an excellent cuisine made Moy's establishment the nocturnal center of the metropolis. Here would sit the great ones, chatting, dining, and perhaps gambling until the early morning hours. Like most of the large clubs, Moy ran an elaborate gambling casino in conjunction with his regular business. As a result he was pretty much occupied until the night's activity drew to a close. Claudia had the run of the place and soon began to act in the role of an unofficial hostess when she got bored with lounging about upstairs. She fitted into the hectic nightlife well. When she grew tired she would go back to the apartment and sit before the large window with its French blinds and peer out in the streets, watching the panorama of city life unreel itself. There always was something happening in Chinatown. The blue patrol wagon would speed down the little streets, its bloodcurdling siren going full blast, and pull up before an unimpressive entrance; immediately dozens of Chinese would pour out. Beneath the eternally placid exterior were many subterranean crosscurrents, and not even Claudia ever got to the bottom of these.

Moy was very fond of seeing Claudia in native costume. He lavished gorgeous gowns and kimonos upon her. Slowly but inevitably they began to sink into an alien form of life, at least while they were at home. First clothes, then food, and then companionship underwent changes. They became accustomed to eating from a sitting position on the floor. The venerable elders of the colony became habitual dinner guests. Claudia drifted into a dual personality. But their sex life was as feverish as ever.

They would arise in the afternoon and lie abed toying with each other. That was their best time when they were fully rested and could apply their finest energies to the fulfillment of the sexual congress.

Instead of tiring with constant repetitions of their fleshly performances, they grew avid for variations of the act. Moy, particularly, was fond of watching the process of his organ as it moved in and out of Claudia's vagina. It seemed to afford him added gratification. They employed a narrow table and Moy would recline at full-length as the girl straddled his body with her legs barely touching the floor. From this position she could gradually settle her sections of hot moist flesh upon his rigid phallus until its cushions enclosed the organ completely. She would sit quietly while he felt her inner softness closing about his organ like a sponge. Then she would sway slightly and swing his penis like a pivot within her, sending the sensations reeling. She would look down upon him with her burning eyes and he in turn would reach up and sink his slender fingers into her snowy breasts and watch the blood ebb and flow.

In such amorous dalliance the day would fly by until the late afternoon shadows lengthened and Moy would dress for the business of the evening. Together they would dine later at the club. Claudia was often tempted by some other sleek young oriental, but she kept her head, realizing the fatal consequence of such conduct.

Life flowed on in an even stream until Moy decided to employ a housemaid. He gave the position to a sister of a friend. To be an employee of Lee Moy was regarded as an honor in the colony. Since he was entertaining more and more in his apartment to keep in the good graces of his countrymen, acquiring a servant was a matter of sheer necessity.

The girl's name was Lily. At least that was what Claudia called her, since she could not master the liquid Chinese. Lily was tiny and slender as a willow tree. Her walk was celestial music. Her face was round and bland like a full moon and her long almond eyes shone in her ivory-yellow face. Her glossy black hair gleamed like a dark pool in the moonlight and her voice was the love song of a thrush.

Claudia felt drawn to the silent, soft-moving girl from the first. She had that strange feeling people sometimes get: that they have known each other in some remote past. It seemed to Claudia that she had always known Lily.

So far as Moy was concerned, the girl might just as well have been an article of furniture in his home. The rare exotic beauty of her thrilled Claudia. She found Moy's apathy toward her unaccountable.

She would engage the girl in conversation just to hear the delicious catlike tones of her voice. Lily had a shy way of looking up at Claudia that pierced her. She was a tiny oriental doll.

"Don't you think Lily is the most beautiful thing you ever saw?" Claudia asked Moy one afternoon.

He looked up in surprise. "Beautiful?" he smiled. "You are beautiful, my darling; but Lily . . . " He laughed. "That is something else again. Pretty? Yes. That is all."

Claudia could not understand the depth of feeling she had developed for the girl. She derived far more thrill out of her presence than she did from Moy's. He seemed coarse and crude in comparison with this lovely child. When Claudia stood close to her she felt some strange power impelling her to reach out and clutch the girl in her arms. She wanted to feel her softness against her and smell the perfume in her hair. If she had known Moy was indulging in intimacies with this little oriental flower she could hardly have felt it in her heart to blame him. Rather, she would have been jealous and filled with envy. She meant to possess the tiny, delicate thing if it took her every resource.

It became a kind of fantastic game. Claudia's problem was to see how many times she could get Lily to help her with her clothes on some pretext or other. The girl would assist her shyly, and her fluttery touch would make Claudia giddy with delight. She tried to fight against her infatuation, but it only made matters worse. Now, when she had intercourse with Moy, she could only experience an orgasm by vicarious means, by substituting for his face and body a mental picture of Lily. As for the little domestic, Claudia could not suppose what went on beneath her bland exterior. Everything she did was so correct and calm that it was impossible to imagine this fragile daughter of Confucius doing or thinking acts which were impure. Yet Claudia did not know for certain. It seemed to her that a love so powerful as hers must be reciprocated. It just had to be.

She began to parade her nude figure before the little servant girl, trying to get a reaction. One day the break came.

Moy had left for the club. He rather approved of her newfound attachment to their apartment. He liked what he thought was a domestic quality in her. Now Claudia could spend the entire evening with her tiny companion. She decided upon a ruse. She arranged a mirror near the narrow table she and Moy were accustomed to using in their sexual sport. As she lay upon the table she could look into the glass, which was in a remote corner of the room, and see what was taking place. Everything was in readiness as she bent her strong will to the task of seducing this little oriental flower.

"Lily," she complained, "I've got a pain in my back. I wish you would rub it for me."

"Gladly, Madame," the girl replied in her precise English.

Claudia stretched her pink and white voluptuousness upon the table. She lay upon her back and her rounded breasts, with their pink-red nipples, pointed straight up.

"Don't you think I have a nice body, Lily?" she asked in a lazy voice watching the girl's face in the mirror for any telltale emotion.

"Madame knows she is beautiful like a goddess," the little yellow girl replied, her voice shaking a little. "Will Madame be so kind as to turn over so that I may rub her back?"

Claudia turned over, her splendid buttocks making a pulse-quickening picture. Lily began to rub her nude body to Claudia's great satisfaction. The little oriental's body exuded a peculiar scent which affected Claudia to the roots of her being. As Lily bent over her to minister to her so-called "pain," Claudia watched her face in the mirror as she lay with her back to her adored one, her chin resting on her folded hands. To her astonishment, a change was coming over the tiny one's features! A passionate look of longing and intense desire was imprinted upon her pretty face as her hands were imbedded in the soft, yielding flesh of the white woman. Her eyes glowed like coals in her mobile face. The onrush of emotion was too sudden for her and she began to tremble.

"What's the trouble, Lily?" asked Claudia. "Do you feel sick?"

The girl shook her head and stubbornly continued to manipulate Claudia's back.

"A little towards the side," Claudia told her. And the poor girl began to stroke the wonderful softness which lay before her. Her hands slid towards where the breasts began to swell and rise in triumph.

"That's it! That's where it hurts!" Claudia cried and she nearly swooned at the touch of the amateur masseuse. Lily caressed the skin until it glowed and Claudia felt the first sign of a liquid warmth within her. She turned over with a sigh.

"I've got an ache here too, Lily." She pointed high up on the fleshy pillar of her thigh.

Lily put a shaky hand on the spot and began to knead it with her fingers. Claudia had no need for a mirror now. The girl's face was white beneath her delicately yellow skin. She was a simple book to read now. Her fingers stole up higher and higher upon her lover's thigh until she was touching the glorious pubic section. Her fingers stroked the glossy ringlets which curled Claudia's scarlet gash of sex. That ineffably gentle touch upon her pubic hair was the last straw so far as Claudia was concerned. With a throaty sound she crossed her shapely limbs and imprisoned the flowerlike hand between them. She began to ooze gently inside as she thrashed uncontrollably about the table. The girl gave her a startled look of a trapped animal and fainted dead away. Claudia leaped from the table and caught the other's childlike form as she collapsed to the floor. She carried her like an infant to the couch, where she held her in her arms and nestled her against her breast, uttering little cries of love. She then smoothed the delicate little brow and chafed the narrow wrists of the child of the East. She loosened her dress at the neck and felt the lust surging within her when she saw the tiny breasts with their pointed nipples. She bent over and kissed the firm little apples. Gradually Lily began to come around. Her incredibly long lashes fluttered upward as her ivory lids drew apart and her humid eyes timorously sought those of Claudia. She tried to move, but this time Claudia would not be denied. She held the girl firmly and set about winning her confidence. She knew Lily felt drawn to her.

"You do like me a little, don't you dear?"

Lily blushed and buried her head with childish modesty into Claudia's fragrant bosom. Claudia pressed her close. "You're nothing but a baby," she whispered, and drew back the imprisoned girl's head and kissed her tenderly upon the lips. She felt the girl's body tremble in her arms.

"Tell me, honey, has anyone ever kissed you before?"

The yellow girl shook her head.

Claudia kissed her again and let her moist mouth linger. This time the other girl returned the pressure and her body grew more taut as she felt vague and troubled stirrings within her.

"Do you like to be kissed?" Claudia asked her when they drew apart after their lingering embrace.

Lily's eyes sparkled. "It gives me a strange feeling and all kinds of things seem to run around inside of me. I have a yearning for something . . . I cannot put it into words."

What a child, thought Claudia. How fortunate she was to have this lovely little plaything all to herself! She bounced the happy Lily upon her knee as though she were dandling a baby, and indeed the little oriental was not much larger. There rose in Claudia a nameless and perverted passion. Above everything else she was going to have this girl. She, and she alone, would induct her into the erotic rites. But she would go slow.

Like a decadent old roue who, after a lifetime of libertinism, develops a lust for adolescent girls, so Claudia seethed with a terrible and undeniable desire for this little Chinese sprite. She fondled and caressed the girl gently and in such a manner as not to make the practice seem loathsome and unnatural. She won the child's confidence first. They did not go beyond a mutual exchange of confidences that night. Claudia made it all appear as though she were merely an older sister. In fact they soon adopted the ancient subterfuge of the daughters of Lesbos, that of referring to themselves in some assumed relationship Claudia was "Big Sister" and Lily was "Little Sister."

The game continued, unknown and unsuspected by Moy. He did not know, as he was in transport, that his place in his mistress' heart had been supplanted by another. Claudia was clever enough to simulate a passion which was already dead.

Whenever opportunity afforded, Claudia continued her subtle assault upon her little servitor's untutored passion. She derived a decadent delight from watching the dormant and hitherto unbanked fires within the child begin to smolder.