Pay In Gold Pt 05

by Richard Williams, copyright 2020.

PAY IN GOLD Pt. 05

Dear, dear Chloe,

Ela/Vhyirmat continued her past life story. As you know, it was offered in a jumble, but I think the important parts must come together. One comment I'll insert: deep inside this chapter you'll desire to be in 1910 Berlin as you come to the juicy parts. And a note: back then they suspected some of the biologic necessities of taking in a regular supply of sex but didn't know exactly how much good that was doing.

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Auntie saw to it that Ela had plenty to do. For example, in modern 1910 Berlin there always were lectures to attend. On one Thursday she heard a Professor Dilthey explain that at the end of the Middle Ages, magical powers were still accepted by leading philosophers of nature. Visualizing the gods and goddesses, that seemed reasonable to her, Vhyirmat, agent of the goddess. And then he tried to explain that it was good to have had that idea fade in the Renaissance!

It was a relief to hear -- at a party that Saturday -- another learned man asserting that Professor Dilthey was terribly wrong about everything. Ela moved closer to him. It turned out that he was a poet who had spent time in Scandinavia and had ideas about the Norse gods and goddesses. Goddess Lofn was one of the names new to her. Ela/ Vhyirmat slipped her way deeper into the circle of listeners around him, curious and also becoming acutely aware that for weeks she had not fulfilled her requirement of having a lover.

"What about the Mediterranean spirit world? Their gods and goddesses?" she inquired. Her voice came out sharper than she had intended. The reactions of the circle around him varied. Some appeared annoyed, some interested. The man looked more closely at her... and blinked.

Vhyirmat recognized the blink. He was visualizing the image she was permitting only him to see, an image of nymphs in Grecian robes teasing him, eagerly tugging at his clothes. Further back in the scene, couples were making love. The vision would completely occupy his mind.

"Uh...." he stumbled over the words. "Your German is good for a... Briton." She learned that he did not have anything against the Mediterranean divinities. The circle began to drift away as his attention focused on Ela/ Vhyirmat. One other young woman remained, trying to gain his attention. Ela/ Vhyirmat looked around the room and spotted two men talking. Again, she focused her mind on an image, this time of the young woman next to her overcome with powerful waves of desire. The man facing them abruptly excused himself and moved to intercept the young woman.

And now it was easy for the agent of the goddess to visualize being on the Stadtbahn train with the poet because they were. He confessed that he could not afford a taxi. He earned little by giving language lessons.

"Where are we going?" the bemused Ela queried.

"The Café des Westens. Next station. There are lots of interesting people there."

And there were. And they talked and talked, apparently trying to get their thoughts out before the rose-tinted sky tipped them off to the time. There were poets published and poets-to-be and men and women who only wanted to be thought of as poets.

Ela/Vhyirmat found many of these people to be charming, but right now her other need was urgent.

"We're on the Ku'damm, aren't we?" Ela/Vhyirmat knew they were, but she wanted Wolfe, as she had learned his name, to think about what a short walk it would be to her aunt's home.

"Yes."

"And the station we alighted at was Savignyplatz, yes?"

"Yes." He turned to the others at the table, saying "We must leave, but I vote for Dr. Freud."

"I didn't catch what you were voting on." It was loud in the café.

"Whether Dr. Freud or Goethe was the more important influence on modern German poetry."

In a few minutes, Ela/Vhyirmat thought, she would become the most important influence on at least one modern German poet. Wolfe's reserve was a frustrating fact, although she had the feeling that he had experience with women. Perhaps he assumed that they had to go out three times and that he must bring her red roses. That would be nice, she mused as they walked the gaslit paving stones. Nice, but the swelling between those strong legs of village girl Ela was growing into a powerful yearning. Nice was being pushed aside by naughty.

At the door of the darkened town house, they paused on the steps. Somewhere a clock chimed three times. Wolfe halfway took Ela in his arms and began a shy kiss. And then he blinked. Suddenly his thoughts were filled with Vhyirmat's, visualizing the two of them entangled in a grape arbor somewhere in an Olympian setting. He crushed her in a tight embrace that thrilled her breasts, her waist, and then sent her clitoris into a seeking frenzy.

Fumbling, Ela unlocked the door and then led Wolfe through the dark halls to her room. Together they flung the bedcovers back and then struggled with the urgent need to find each other's snaps and clasps and buttons. Minutes were too long it seemed. Stretching out on the bed, she wiggled her hips impatiently as he fished in his pants pocket.

"You have no idea how bad I want you right now."

"You wouldn't believe how bad I want you." He murmured. That was the way it should be, Vhyirmat thought.

"No, I don't need the condom. I'll explain later!" He looked at her wet vagina, tossed his pants aside and climbed onto the bed, his growing vigor obvious. Opening to his insistent shaft she invited him into her sacred chamber. She wrapped her Ela legs around him as she felt his swollen head pushing her lips aside. Her heels dug into his back, spurring him deeper. She found herself craving the silver magic of his precum, pleasuring her as his throbbing manhood coated her aching passage with his in and out motion.

Begging, yes naked begging, for his semen, Ela/ Vhyirmat groaned and bucked her hips, driving Wolfe into wild ramming. She looked up into his eyes and saw that tantalizing look of readiness. Too soon, but not soon enough, her man cried out and gave into her tempting wet heat. She felt his penis harden and plunging deep inside he jetted out his gift to her.

Her own orgasm was more a feeling of relief that the creamy white stuff was hers now and soaking into her personality and her imagination. She would be back on the right track for herself and for the goddess. Perhaps the goddess had even selected Wolfe for her.

Wolfe swung himself off of her and they lay side by side, wet with sweat. As his penis relaxed, a last tangle of precum and semen emerged and Ela/ Vhyirmat took it in her fingers and caressed her clitoris with it. Wolfe started a gentle smile, and then sat bolt upright.

"What was that?" was his whispered exclamation. Ela/ Vhyirmat heard a long moaning female voice -- and laughed.

"I forgot to put the plug in the speaking tube. Marie must have a guest... yes it's Saturday night... really Sunday morning... and the admiral's driver has this night off."

The groaning, ghostlike voice from the Victorian communicating tube picked up a rhythmic pace.

"It'll be quiet in a minute." The voice chanted now, in French, demanding that she should be fucked harder and harder.

"Does this mean that they may have listened in on us?" Wolfe realized.

"Yes, perhaps, or perhaps we woke them up." Ela/ Vhyirmat grinned.

Wolfe sighed, half amused and half resigned, and flopped back onto the bed. Ela/ Vhyirmat could see all that because the rose pink light of morning was faintly outlining the shades in her bedroom. Then they both fell into deep, satisfying sleep.

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"It's ten o 'clock, ma'mselle." Marie was shaking Ela's bare shoulder, her eyes however on the naked man cuddled against her.

"You cannot have him, Marie!" Ela teased.

"I'll trade to you my sailor. He has a strong mast."

Wolfe stirred, then opened his eyes and pulled a sheet higher. The two women laughed.

"Some other time you may have him, Marie, but right now we need breakfast."

And they devoured it. This became a familiar part of their lives. Wolfe introduced her to a widening circle of his literary and artistic friends, they made love, and enjoyed breakfasts at Auntie's house. After Ela had asked him to explain Lofn, the Norse goddess of forbidden love, she guided his poetic enthusiasm into inviting Marie into their bed. Marie, Ela noted, did not need a Norse excuse to share pleasure.

With auntie's guidance and her growing knowledge of German, Ela felt more comfortable with "higher" society and learned how to deflect the occasional biting comments about the British Empire. As in other times and places and lives, being an agent of the goddess did not make her responsible for world affairs, she told herself.

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"I think you're ready for one of the special things about Berlin," Auntie asserted. "It's fine to have your poet, but you need to meet some of the Important People."

"But he IS important," Ela/ Vhyirmat thought. True, the goddess must have arranged her move to Berlin for some reason and time was passing. Passing pleasantly, also true, but to what point? Last year -- 1911 -- she and Auntie had gone to some of the parties surrounding the launching of battleships. Paris had decreed an end to whalebone corsets. The summer dresses were lovely, pencil-shaped, easy to shimmy out of as her man eagerly watched, but speeches were boring; there were some little asides about "England" that seemed to come out of the blue. Now it was 1912 and the British and German Empires seemed to be in a regular habit of criticizing each other.

Auntie was going to introduce her to the Zufluchtsort, some sort of resort in the woods at a castle called Wendenschloss where they would meet Important People. Ela/ Vhyirmat noticed that Marie seemed quite excited about it. She seemed to know what to pack, so there was not much to discuss.

They went to the Zufluchtsort together in an old-fashioned carriage with Auntie's old-fashioned driver. He seemed to be excited about it, too, and kept glancing lustfully at Marie, who did not blush. Near Wendenschloss they took a ferry. Vhyirmat was reminded of Chadron, ferryman of Hades, but this man winked at her.

Auntie explained a few things before they arrived. Basically, she was to be guardian and enhancer of all they did there. She explained that social rank would not matter; well, the servants would have their own activities. Everyone would change into the gauzy white gowns and sandals that Marie had packed. If one recognized one of the other guests, one should not admit that. And if one recognized a Royal Personage, they dare not admit that.

"Our Prince was quite successful on his visit here; women lined up for him. They had to pretend that they didn't know who he was. He had his way with his choice of beauties." Ela/ Vhyirmat remembered Mr. Rank back in her village, the railway baggage master, reading in the Daily Mail that the Prince had attended private cultural offerings during his visit with his German relatives.

Ela/ Vhyirmat meandered around the castle's extensive gardens. Just as Auntie had said, everyone was dressed in gauzy white robes. Auntie had not mentioned that not all of the robes were tied tight. Some of the daring young things were barely covered. They laughed, giggled, and chased after each other. Marie waved to draw her attention and led the way with their things to one of the cute little garden cottages where a decorative sign in decorative script read "Ich moechte mehr."

Once they were ready to emerge, Marie excused herself and vanished in the direction, Ela/ Vhyirmat assumed, of the servants' area. The older guests strolled about or sat at shaded tables sipping lemonades or stronger drinks. Auntie seemed to be perfectly comfortable with all of the people, greeting them namelessly, ignoring the men who gawked at Ela. She whispered, "he's an editor, that one is a general, his wife is with him and she has a voracious appetite -- for men."

"But Auntie," Ela/ Vhyirmat, "we aren't supposed to recognize them!"

"I didn't say that," Auntie replied. "I said not to admit that you recognized them."

An older man who recognized Auntie -- and pretended not to -- struck up a conversation with them, but before much had been said, a string quartet began to play, and people began taking seats.

"No games of musical chairs, ladies!" he exclaimed. "You are welcome to join us." He indicated a table for four. "Excuse me a moment," and he disappeared in the direction of the woods.

"He's the managing director of the Marquardt Landesbank." Auntie whispered. "I think he's gone to find his son for us."

The music swelled and with wild applause a woman in a gauzier than anyone else's robe mounted the small stage. She acknowledged the cheers from some and blew kisses to others and then began a sensuous dance to what seemed to be harem music. At first the audience sat transfixed. Then Ela/ Vhyirmat noticed that they were shifting around, moving with the music.

"It's that Dutch woman! Mata Hari!" murmured a few.

Auntie's Managing Director emerged from the woods with his son, who in turn was dragging a blonde young woman reluctantly along. Her robe was opened by a breeze and blonde curls below her mount glistened for a moment when their wetness caught the sunlight. Vhyirmat's experienced eyes caught the wet spot on the son's robe, but the father seemed oblivious. He looked around for an empty chair, made motions of apology as he took one from another table and then settled the couple adjacent to Ela.

The blonde rested her hand on the young man's thigh. Ela did the same from the other side. Mata Hari's dance grew more and more sensual. The blonde began stroking his thigh. Ela did the same from the other side but looked at her Auntie. And at her bank director. And as Vhyirmat she projected a powerful image of the older couple together in the little cabin. They excused themselves and left abruptly!

The erotic exotic dance had done its work on the audience and couples rose to head to their cabins. A group of men huddled around Mata Hari, trying to outdo one another in getting her attention.

"Let us show you around the gardens," the young man said to Ela. The blonde indicated that she did not think that was necessary, reluctantly joining them. In moments they seemed a world away from the Victorian-style of their elders, wandering in a wild maze of giant shrubs and trees. They could hear the voices of others, laughing and then giggling. A couple walking in the other direction approached them and Vhyirmat applied her goddess-delegated powers.

The couple swept the clinging blonde away, teasing her when she looked back longingly. Ela/ Vhyirmat was alone with the young man and there was a park bench. Without a word being spoken, their robes slipped to the ground. They embraced and the hard muscles of his stomach sent a message to Ela/ Vhyirmat as she felt them pressed against hers. He would have power to pleasure her in many positions.

For now, she was on his lap, caressing his eager staff, drawing out the silver fluid and coating her intimate places with the valuable stuff. She shifted her position and he plunged into her without hesitation, gliding into her wet chamber, spreading his own precum to ease the passage of his swollen head. They looked down and watched as her red curls clutched at his brown hairs, as the base of his shaft emerged and then returned in powerful strokes.

In the distance the giggling had turned to heavy breathing and then joyous screams of pleasure, but Ela/ Vhyirmat and her young man did not consciously notice. They were preoccupied with pleasures of their own. She wanted his semen and then she begged for it. Later, she realized that she usually did not do that, but now her mind was focused on one thing. Her deep, guttural moans spoke of the pleasure he was pressing into her subconscious.

Trying to hold back, she knew, would be hopeless for him. Oh! She flooded his mind with images of the nymphs playing on Mount Olympus and he came in a series of creamy spurts. He held her on his lap and kissed her cooling breasts in a way that sent a tremor down to her toes.

"Let's go to the garden house," Ela/ Vhyirmat whispered as another young couple stretched out on the lawn nearby. As they left they could not help but notice the young man slipping into a condom while the young woman wiggled her vagina impatiently.

A bed with fresh sheets waited for them in the garden house. As they cuddled, Ela/ Vhyirmat did learn her man's name (Herman) despite the rules and yes, he was a banker with his father. What was more interesting was that he had strong feelings that because a man was in charge, he had a duty to pleasure his women. This was a novelty for Ela in 1912 Germany, where men explained that because men were in charge, she had a duty to pleasure men and that was the end of it.

As they talked she felt herself warming and she turned on her side toward Herman. Her hot "shame lips" touched his manhood and re-lit the fire that they had enjoyed in the garden. Vhyirmat did not recall exactly what they did, her mind was haze-drunk with pleasure then. She did recall that late in the evening Marie came in to tell them that it was time to go. Ela and Herman could barely keep their drowsy eyes off of each other. Their relaxed bodies glistened with sweat in the light of the lantern that the Frenchwoman carried.

"Interesting," the maid chortled. "May I have your poet now?"

"Yes," Ela/ Vhyirmat slowly agreed. "But let me talk with sweet Wolfe first. And you'll need to help." Marie began to nod, but the attention of both women was drawn to the view of Herman's muscular hips as he bent down to pick his robe off the floor. Marie licked her lips. Ela enjoyed the pleasure-memories of his hips flexing as she had clutched them in frenzied lust.

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A few nights later, Wolfe was visiting. Auntie was off taking the waters at Karlsbad with her bank president staying within reaching distance, as she joked. Wolfe would spend the night.

After dinner they talked about Wolfe's poetry and his new interest in the French writers. For some reason, he told Ela/ Vhyirmat, he had been thinking a lot about them. He had discovered that Marie was taking an interest in poets, too. It puzzled him that she was becoming obsessed.

"Speaking of Marie," the agent of the goddess smiled. "Let me show you something interesting." With the blink of his eyes she knew that he was remembering the times that Marie's flaming red hair had brightened their bed. As she, Vhyirmat, had brought to the front of his thoughts. Ela led him to the periscope in Auntie's boudoir.

"I see the neighbors practicing with their violins." Ela/ Vhyirmat laughed. He adjusted the mirrors to show Marie's room.

"Marie's on the bed, reading."

"Keep watching." Carefully as Wolfe kept watching, Ela removed the stopper from the speaking tube so that Marie would hear them talking.

Marie marked her place in the book and rose from the bed. She looked in the mirror and then turned facing the lens. Button by button, she eased out of her maid's uniform, moving as sensuously as had Mata Hari. She turned to admire her nude self in the mirror, caressing her breasts enticingly. Wolfe stayed glued to the periscope.

Her triangle caught his eye as she turned toward the lens again. Her hands slid from her breasts down to her thighs and then up to stroke her red curls. At first she simply grazed them, then spread to let her clitoris vie for attention. Her eyes half-closed as waves of pleasure shook her lithe body.

"Her sailor is off to China, to Tsingtao." Ela/ Vhyirmat offered this information calmly, as though she was unaware of what was happening. "Perhaps a good dose of poetry would be what she yearns to receive whilst he's away." Wolfe turned toward Ela/ Vhyirmat. He blinked again and again as Vhyirmat struggled to complete the adjustment in his thinking.