Her Master's Courtesan (8 page)

He placed the cold tip of another clamp over my nipple, spinning the purple bead around, securing the clamp tightly. I winced at the pain and fought back tears as he moved to secure the last one. Once he’d done so, he reached down to untie my feet from the chair, but stopped suddenly.  He looked me over and stood up, leaving me alone in the kitchen when he walked into another room. I thought about running, about getting up from this table and finding a way to free myself – but the house was so large, I had no idea where he would be.

When he returned, he held a camera in his hand. “I want to document the experience for you - let you see how beautiful you look. It might help you accept your place when you learn what a jewel you have become. You are highly coveted by men such as me – rich men, powerful men, men of influence within the community.”

Every click and flash of light caused my body to jump in reaction. Not only was I in pain from the clamps he’d attached to my body; but my humiliation was being documented as he added insult to the injury. He stood several feet away at first and I looked at my lap, not wanting my tear-streaked face on film. I should have known he wouldn’t allow that while he photographed me.

“Look up into the camera. Let me see your beautiful eyes.”

I looked up blinking against the flash every time he pushed down on the shutter button. The camera was large and looked professional. It had a heavy grip with which he used to turn it effortlessly to take horizontal and vertical shots. He stepped closer, each time focusing on some new part of my body. Eventually he was within two feet of me and he kneeled down, taking shots between my legs – the flash bouncing off the chain. I looked up when he finally set the camera down on the table.

“Good. I’ll untie you now.”

He removed the rope from around my ankles and wrists and stepped back, allowing me to stand from the chair. As soon as I straightened my body, the chains pulled taut and I groaned at the sensation of the clamps. It was painful to walk, but I took small steps until I stood beneath the iron rack as he’d instructed. There was absolute silence in the room and I closed my eyes and breathed out heavily in fearful anticipation of his next command.

“Raise your hands above your head.” Like smooth silk, the deep baritone of his voice washed over my body and I jumped to realize he stood so close behind me.

I reached above myself and winced again because the motion forced the chain even tighter.  Tears welled at my eyes and I couldn’t blink them back, the sting of the clamps biting at the most sensitive parts of my body. The sensation was too much.

He ran his hands slowly up my arms when he placed me in wrist restraints, connecting the cords to the rack above my head.

“You’ll eventually grow accustomed to the clamps, I believe you will even appreciate them after a while – maybe this evening when I’m done fucking you.”

I felt his hand reach between my legs once again and his skilled fingers rubbed softly along the skin. He poked a finger inside, swirling it in a circle, lightly stretching the muscle. My legs almost gave out beneath me and when my knees began to bend, he caught me around my waist and pulled my back up.

He chuckled and his breath rolled along the skin of my neck and he smelled of mint.  I briefly wondered how that could be, considering he’d just eaten in front of me, but I was pulled from that thought when I felt the thickness of his cock pressed up against me. He’d not removed his pants, but the bulge was blatantly apparent beneath the smooth material.

He was right – what he’d said about the way my body would respond, and that fact slapped me hard across the face. My hips ground backwards into him and the clamps pulled tightly again; but this time, it felt as if the sting had been numbed, the rushing blood awakening the nerves and it felt like an electric jolt traveled between the tips of the three clamps. I felt myself become wet and I shuddered in response.

I felt his hands grip around my hips and he pulled me against him tighter. He released one hand and plucked at the chain stretched taut between my breasts and my clit. Each pluck sent a wave of ecstasy through my body, my knees bending again from the heady sensation.

“Yes my pet, feel the things I can do to your body. Lose yourself to it, let go and feel the pleasure only I can give you.”

His fingers played between my legs again and I moaned when he teased the skin. “Do you like it when I tease your wet pussy? Does it make you hungry for more?”

Hot and sultry, his mouth brushed over my ear and I leaned back into him allowing him to take the weight of my body. The endorphins that rushed through me in response to the pain were making me light headed and I felt like I sank into the warm strength of his chest and arms. He chuckled again and I didn’t really care at the moment that my behavior was amusing to him. I’m sure all the girls he’s
trained
have come to the same point as me and this was nothing new or exciting for him – it was expected. But, that still didn’t make me care.

A feeling of comforting warmth bloomed in my belly, but it started to burn inside me. I felt like a toy that had been wound up tight, each small motion of his finger acting only to awaken the nerves running through my body. Sweat sheened over my skin despite the cool temperature of the room. My lips parted and I pulled in air. I started to shake in his hold and he pressed tighter against my back, his hands working their way up my abdomen to rest at the bottom of my breasts. Like a jackhammer, my heart pounded in my chest and my head fell back against his chest. I felt his lips trail along my neck, his teeth nipping at the stretched skin and his tongue coming out to smooth over the pain.

“I wish I could give you the release you so desperately need. I wish you hadn’t disobeyed me; but I won’t lie and tell you that your punishment won’t be enjoyable for me. I look forward to seeing the marks on your skin – to know that I’m the person who put them there.”

He pulled away from me and I cried out when my legs bent beneath me and I was caught by the restraints around my wrist. I was so close to an orgasm, so fucking close to a release that was building inside me like a volcano. It burned me from the inside out. It left me dizzy and flustered and his words echoed in my head, my comprehension of them made less clear by the heat he’d produced in my body.

Pushing myself up on unsteady legs, I heard him move between the table and the rack, a rhythmic sound growing louder as he approached. He moved around me, allowing me to see what he was slapping against his hand.

“Have you ever seen one of these before? Do you know what it is?”

I recognized the object in his hand from a fetish movie I’d watched with a friend years before. At the time, we’d laughed and grimaced at the odd practices employed by certain people during sex. Now, staring down at the black handle and black straps of the flogger that he carried, I cringed to realize he planned to use it on me.

“It’s a flogger, Master. I saw one once – in a movie.”

His brows rose and the sharp blue of his eyes glowed under the lights of the kitchen.

“It is. I’m impressed and surprised that you know that. I never imagined you as one who would watch a film involving one of these. But then again I did find you in front of a painting depicting the
less common
form of sexual contact.” He stroked his hands along the straps of the flogger and I noticed small metal bits attached to the cords.

“This particular flogger is my favorite for inflicting punishment. The rubber slaps at the skin much harder than other materials and these metal pieces are small barbs that scratch the skin. It won’t create a deep cut, but it can draw blood depending on how hard I swing.”

His voice was emotionless, blank and void of compassion when he explained what he had planned. I started to cry again and I was desperate to stop the flow of tears. I remembered what he’d said to me in the bath, how my tears turned him on and I hated to give him the satisfaction of my fear and pain.

“You will receive one strike for each act of defiance you exhibited early today. I’ll list them for you so there is no confusion after tonight regarding the actions that are not acceptable. You spoke back to me three times – one time in which you accused me of being a rapist. I take issue with that term and if I hear you use it again, I’m afraid our time together will abruptly come to an end.” He paused to allow me time to absorb the hidden meaning behind the threat. He must have noticed the comprehension in my eyes, because he began to circle around me, slapping the flogger against his hand while continuing to detail the reasons I was now being punished.

“You looked directly at me – which, I will admit, you did not yet know is not allowed. However, the issue I am taking is the
way
you looked at me. When you are allowed the
privilege
of looking into the face of your owner, you will do so with reverence and love. Our treatment of you is a gift; we will shape you and mold you into a vehicle of absolute and total pleasure. You benefit from this as well. We provide you with everything you need – food, shelter, medical care – at our cost. You owe us respect each time you are granted permission to look in our eyes.”

I cringed at his words, the muscles along my spine tightening from my disgust. I realized he was mad, completely out of touch with the reality of what he’d done. He’d taken my freedom, my choice and my life without my permission and then asked me to appreciate him for food and a roof over my head? I’d rather be starving and homeless than be touched by him or any other man in his group.

“Your other two mistakes were flinching away and, most importantly, attempting to deceive me by faking an orgasm. Not only is it a lie but it is also an act that questions my intelligence and experience as a Master. I do not react very well to that.”

He was suddenly in front of me again and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at his beautiful face. I hated that I considered him beautiful; especially when I knew that inside, he was vile and revolting. His very soul was tainted by the acts he committed against the women he’d enslaved. But yet, I couldn’t help but admire the way his hair fell like black silk over his forehead and also couldn’t help staring into eyes made bluer by the ink black of his lashes.

I was transfixed and split apart, my mind reeling against his touch while something deep inside me – something primal and instinctual – kept my eyes glued to the way he walked, or the fluid motion of his muscles beneath his crisp, button-up shirt. The way he carried himself, or the way he spoke, his intelligence and his calm mannerisms – all of these were things obviously honed by him for the purpose of enchanting the women he trained. It fucking ripped me in two to realize that, even knowing the monster hidden behind the smooth and effortless surface that I still, on some deep-seated level, was attracted to him.

“By my count, that is six strikes against you. Therefore, I will administer six blows across your ass and your legs; three each in both areas. Once I am done, your punishment has ended. If you are good, if you don’t defy me while I administer the strikes, I’ll make you feel good by granting you the feel of my hands, my mouth…” He stepped closer, his face mere inches from mine. His minty breath brushed across my face when he finished, “…my cock.”

My eyes traveled down the sharp edge of his jaw, the black stubble that shadowed his cheek. His face appeared like it had been sculpted or chiseled by a skilled artist. Every feature on him was distinctly masculine; the deep set of his eyes, the straight line of his nose, the perfect and full lips that I remembered were soft when he’d dragged them along my neck. I shivered at the memory and attempted to shake away the spell it felt like he’d wrapped around me.

“Are you ready, pet?”

I shook my head in response, my lip trembling violently as tears ran over my cheeks. He smiled, reaching up to smooth the tears over my skin with his thumb.

“Are you sure that’s the answer you want to give me?”

His conditioning had already started to set in because I instantly shrunk back in fear, realizing my mistake. “Yes, Master … I mean, no, Master.” I was desperate to gain control of myself, to seize myself back from the blanket of soul consuming panic. “No. That’s not the answer I want to give you.”

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and then opening them again when I breathed out, “I’m ready to be punished.”

My scream didn’t seem real. As the first strike fell over my bottom, the rubber slapping hard against the skin and each barb scraping its way across the flesh already sore from the paddling the night before.

This was worse than the paddling, the combined pain of the rubber and metal, the horrid sound the flogger made when it came in contact with my skin – it was a nightmare come alive and I pulled on the restraints, desperate to shield myself from the next blow.

He waited a moment, allowed the tension in my shoulders and arms to ease before he landed the second blow over the back of my legs. My knees bent immediately and I dropped down. His arm came around like a steel band over my abdomen, picking me back up and placing me on my feet. He moved forward so that I could see him, his eyes following the clipped chain.