Her Master's Courtesan (18 page)

~ Aiden ~

“Look up, Rebecca. Open those pretty green eyes and see what you’ve become”

A wicked grin pulled at my lips and I adored the initial expression on her face when she saw the photographs. They were magnificent, erotic and the quintessential example of how the human body became art.

Using one finger to pull up her chin, I looked into her face, a mischievous expression obvious in the look in my eye and the smile that stretched across my face. “Don’t be shy, beautiful. When I found you, you were looking at art such as this. You were transfixed as I recall – your cheeks turned pink when I’d first asked you about it.”

Her bottom lip trembled and I grabbed her chin holding that full lip still. My mouth watered and our faces were so close together, I couldn’t help but pull her jaw open and take her mouth with mine. She whimpered against me after I gripped my other hand into her hair. I pulled her back, bending her head backwards with my mouth moving hungrily over hers, swallowing the pain and fear I’d replaced in her body.

When I finally released the kiss, she stumbled in her shoes. I caught her around the waist, preventing her from falling.

“Easy there, pet.” I chuckled at the intoxicated look in her eye. “I want you to show me once again how intelligent you are. You are a lover of art and I’ve made you the thing you love. Tell me what you think of these photographs. How do they make you feel – what emotion do they evoke?”

I paused giving her time to look around at the four walls of the room. Leaning into her, the heat of my breath rolled across her skin when I said, “I’ll tell you what they make me feel. They make me grateful that such a beautiful woman can exist. They make me lightheaded, because they remind me of how thoroughly your body responds to pleasure – and to pain. They make my dick hard because I remember how it felt to shove my dick into the heat of your perfect cunt. You are unlike anything I’ve known, Rebecca – I will admit that.”

When I pulled away from her, the light was no longer covered in shadow. The soft glow in the room shone across her skin, reflecting quickly off the single tear that slowly rolled down her cheek. I watched her shatter where she stood, her eyes opened wide, taking in every single detail of the images of her body – bound, naked and positioned in such a way as to make her realize just how broken she’d been.

I grabbed her arm, forcing her closer to the images, fascinated by her repulsion – her absolute hatred of the reminders of what I’d done.

“You are beautiful, pet. I told you, I wanted you to see what I saw. I wanted you to appreciate how desirable you are. A rare jewel is not as precious as a woman on her knees. A slave to a man’s every desire.”

I looked away from her and allowed my eyes to travel around the room. Most of the photographs were in black and white. There was something beautiful about the contrast of a silver chain against black leather when it was portrayed in true monochrome tones. All the same colors of black, white and grey, but it was the multiple shades that gave it depth – made it into an image so stunning, it stole your breath just to look at it.

There were two or three, however, that I left in color. They were taken from behind when she’d been strapped to the rack with her arms behind her back and her body forced forward. I couldn’t bring myself to have those changed. The red marks across her heart shaped ass and legs were too pretty a shade to be drowned out into nothing but a grey tone.

It was those images that she stared at the longest – the ones that bore the marks of my punishment – that were unforgiving in their detail.

We continued to move through the room, from wall to wall – picture to picture – until finally, we reached the center frame that held nothing inside. The gilded frame stood only a foot off the ground, but almost reached the ceiling due to its size. It was two times as wide as me and it had golden cuffs secured at the top corners. At the base corners were two planks of smooth lacquered wood, just big enough for a person’s foot. Shackles were attached to the planks and when Rebecca looked at the frame, she stopped suddenly. Confusion wrinkled her brow initially, but understanding finally rolled behind the green of her eyes.

I smiled.

“You will be living art tonight, Rebecca. The centerpiece of the photographs and images I took of you the night before. It’ll be an exhibit unlike anything seen in a museum, art brought to life – life made into art. And you’ll be the most exquisite piece of them all.”

Her body quivered in my hold and she breathed so quickly I feared she would hyperventilate. Her skin had lost its color and a fine sheen of sweat broke out over her forehead. She tried to back away from the frame, but I placed my hand on the small of her back, preventing her retreat.

“Tsk, beautiful girl, you’re moving in the wrong direction. Be a good girl and step up on the frame. I’ve had it secured especially to hold your weight. You won’t fall – I can promise you that.”

She shook her head, but the movement was so slight I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been taking in every detail of her fear and hesitancy. I enjoyed watching her eyes grow large when she finally understood my intentions and I enjoyed the several seconds of her confusion that came before. Like a spider, I weaved a web around her, drawing her in with the fleeting idea of beauty, of lust…of love. But every time she got too close, every instance that she dared trust that things would turn out in her favor, she learned that she been caught in my game once again.

“Step up.” I held her hand to steady her, wondering if she’d be able to balance in the heels I’d selected for her to wear. I could have taken pity on her, could have made her more comfortable by allowing her to spend the evening barefoot and not teetering on small bits of wood barely big enough for her foot. But, there was no fun in that. Part of being a courtesan was the ability to seduce – to entice – even in situations where you are uncomfortable and barely able to do so. She needed to be pushed to a new limit. She had to learn what was expected of her – and that her comfort, her dignity and her happiness were not something she could demand.

I knew I destroyed her with the photographs and I knew it would ultimately break her more when the dinner guests arrived. They would walk the walls, judging and remarking on the photos – on her – as if she were nothing more than a beautiful object left out on display for all to observe. She was a decoration, not a person, or a heart or a soul – a thing. A thing that is owned wholly, a thing that has no say in what happens to it or who owns it.

It was time she learned that she is no longer a human being with the rights to her emotions, thoughts or opinions. She was a pet – nothing more or less than an animal a person would own and care for – or not care for. It was the owner’s decision what happened to her.

Her words from the closet came to mind. I’d been in shock initially to hear her admit something so personal; to speak words complimenting a man who’d not only abducted her, but who’d also tortured her into submission. That’s not to say I’d never heard them before; but not so soon. I inwardly questioned the motive behind her voicing them. What was the game she attempted to play back? Was she so brazen, she didn’t think I’d suspect it? I was angry and curious almost immediately after she’d spoken them, but I chose to hide those emotions in order to play my hand.

Judging by the expression on her face now and the tears that slipped down her cheeks to realize what I had planned – it appeared, quite clearly, that I’d held the aces in the game and when I laid down my cards, her game ended.

“Step up, pet. My guests will be here soon and I promised them a masterpiece. You are expected to remain quiet while you are bound – to not flinch if a man wants to touch or taste you – to make me proud and show off the rewards of my hard work.”

I took her hand to steady her and her eyes darkened, dulled to a point where the last bit of light and rebellion that remained in them had been forcefully stripped. She stepped towards the frame, her eyes traveling along the gold detail and lifted a foot to climb up onto the boards that held her feet. I fastened the shackles around her feet and used a chair to climb up and fasten the cuffs around her wrist.

Her knees wobbled, but eventually she found her balance. She was fully exposed. Her legs spread so that it was clear her panties didn’t cover her. Her breasts were pushed up and out by the position of her arms above her head. She rested the back of her head against the wall and she closed her eyes.

I stood back to look at the artwork I’d created. It was mystifying; an object so rare that I knew my guests would take several minutes admiring the graceful lines of her body, the faint marks across her skin.

Now that she was in place, the
‘exhibit’
I’d imagined was finally complete and the bell rang throughout the house indicating that people had arrived just in time.

I ran my hand up her leg, but she didn’t open her eyes. When I reached the junction between her thighs, I pushed my finger up inside, smiling to realize that even while wallowing in the utter humiliation I dealt, she was still wet and ready, the juices of her body glistening on my finger when I pulled away.

She finally looked down at me, tears flowing freely over the pallor of her cheeks. I licked her taste from my finger and smiled.

“I apologize for staring.
You’re beautiful and I didn’t want to look away
.”

She glared down at me, her eyes narrowing in pain to have her words regurgitated back at her.

“Yes, my lovely. I know the game you play and I’m not enough of a fool to fall for pretty words spoken from the lips of a liar.”

With those words I walked away, slowing striding out of the room to greet my guests and lead them into the dining room I’d decorated to draw their attention to the beauty of my slave.

When I entered the foyer, I saw six men and two women in the room. I spotted Anthony first – his black hair slicked-back, his grey eyes bright to see me stroll into the room. He broke away from the crowd and reached out to shake my hand. His other hand clapped me on the shoulder and he smiled a toothy grin.

“Damn good to see you, Aiden. You’ve been hiding yourself away for too long. I’ll admit: I was somewhat surprised to hear from you last week, but when you told me you had an exhibit I shouldn’t miss, I cancelled all my other plans to haul ass over here. I know your work and there isn’t anything in this world that would make me miss it.”

Anthony Glass was a few years older than I am, but he was only considered a buyer and
owner
within the society. The terminology is our own and it’s useful to distinguish the roles of the men who are included in our group. I often wondered why Anthony never trained to become a Master and, quite frankly, if he decided now that he wanted to step up to the position – I’d offer to personally tutor him in the fine art. He has a good understanding of the methodology and his heart is cold enough to take a woman and break her for the purpose of sale. I suspect that he’s afraid to witness those first couple days and nights – when the hand of a Master rips the personality from a woman’s mind and replaces it with the personality of a whore. It’s not an easy task and it takes a special type of person to crush the hopes and dreams of another person. Perhaps Anthony is more intelligent a man than me – one who enjoys the fruits of another man’s labor without having the stain of the destruction of another soul on his hands.

“Anthony – it has been too long. I apologize for my extended absence, but business has been rather busy these past few months. While you are sinking your dick into your courtesans, I’ve been becoming a very rich man. I’m sure you understand the money will always take precedence over my social life.”

He smiled again, nodding his head in understanding. “Of course, Aiden. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

I nodded back and turned my attention to my other guests. Henry, Collin, Xavier and Gail waited patiently to greet me. Seeing that I’d finished my conversation with Anthony, they crossed the foyer, each shaking my hand and speaking their hellos. I smiled courteously and my eyes fell on the two women and the other man that stood in waiting behind them. All three were slaves and each was dressed provocatively, holding their bodies in such as a way as to entice the attention of the handlers in the room.

My eyes fell on the buxom brunette and images filled my head of the days I’d broken her down. She’d been easy prey – a slut in her own life before I made her a whore. If anything, I’d given her a better life than the one she’d led before her abduction. At least in the society, she would be free of disease; she’d have a roof over her head and food to eat. She wouldn’t be scrambling to the bars and strip clubs in an effort to feed the child I knew she had.

I did a favor for that child by taking her incompetent mother and when I tracked the home to which the child was taken – her grandmother’s from what I could gather – I made an anonymous donation, setting it up to appear as if the state granted the money in condolence of the child having been abandoned. I wasn’t surprised when the grandmother readily accepted the cash without questioning the charity from which it supposedly had been gifted.

“You remember Abigail.” Henry pointed back at the girl and my eyes ran down the luscious curves of her body. Days ago my dick would have been hard at the sight of her, the knowledge in my head of just how much pain the woman could take and just how wet she became as a result. But knowing who was currently in my home, chained to a frame on a wall in wait of the party, I had no interest in Abigail. It was as if my dick preferred the innocence of Rebecca – it preferred pussy that hadn’t been spread all over town before it was taken and sold into the society.

“I do. She looks incredible. You have done quite well with her, Henry.”

He laughed and snapped his fingers at Abigail. Obediently, she walked to stand by his side and I reached out to caress the side of her large breast. Even though she kept her eyes down, I could see the lascivious smile peek at her lips from my touch. She’d been fun, I remember that – but it was nowhere near as satisfying as breaking in a girl like Rebecca over my cock.