Maggie and the Master (19 page)

‘Home, slave.'

‘Home?' Maggie asked in surprise. ‘What do you mean, home?'

‘Your new master is waiting for you.'

Maggie frowned. ‘But I don't understand,' she said, puzzled. ‘What do you mean, my new master? I thought you'd bought me.'

Guido snorted. ‘For that price?' he scoffed. ‘Don't flatter yourself, Maggie. I'd want half a dozen slaves for what he's just paid.'

‘Who then?' she pressed desperately. ‘I don't understand.'

Guido pulled open the front door, and there outside on the gravel drive was a familiar car. Maggie felt her heart tighten in her chest, for Max Jordan was at the wheel, the passenger door open, and in his hand he held her collar. Maggie's eyes filled with tears of relief and joy. It seemed she had found her true master after all.

Maggie lay back on the couch staring up at the ceiling. She was naked, with her arms up behind her head, her legs spread wide.

Max smiled down at her. ‘I want you marked as mine forever, Maggie,' he said. ‘You understand that, don't you?'

She nodded; there was nothing she wanted more, however afraid she was. She bit her lip, only too aware of the balding man working quietly beside the couch preparing his equipment. He looked at Max, who nodded, and with that the man clamped one nipple tight and pulled.

The sensation of the needle passing through the base of the teat took Maggie's breath way and made her cry out in shock and pain, and seconds later he pressed the ring home which made her gasp and then swallow down another cry.

The ring felt cold and alien in her flesh.

‘All right?' asked the man, and Maggie nodded bravely, although she wasn't sure whether he was talking to her or to Max. She looked up at her master and saw the delight in his eyes at the sight of the first nipple ring in place. The rings he'd chosen for her were the twins of those worn by his housekeeper, Mrs Griffin, ornate silver hoops around which was a stylised version of his initials. His first slave and his last both marked in the same way, that was what Max had told her the night before as he handed her the tiny jewellery box as a present to mark their first anniversary. Maggie smiled, unsure that she would be his last slave, it seemed unlikely, his hunger for female flesh was legendary. But even so she was deeply touched, and more than that, the rings marked her as his.

Above her the man clamped and then pulled the second nipple taut, Maggie closed her eyes and this time, knowing what to expect, let the pain pass through her along with the needle and the jewellery. But what was to follow next was the piercing she was really afraid of.

Max took hold of her hand. ‘I love you, you know that don't you, little one?' he said. Maggie nodded; through all he had done to her and the men and women he had given her to, she still knew it was true. Max loved in a unique and terrifying way.

Between her legs the man clamped the lips of her quim apart and taped them back so that she was totally exposed. With a gloved hand he sterilised the area, clamped and then pulled the hood of her clit. Maggie swallowed hard, trying not to panic, trying not to cry out, and then there was searing pain as the needle passed through the delicate flesh. Maggie grimaced and writhed, desperately clutching Max's hand.

‘All done,' said the man, placing the equipment back on the bench.

Maggie opened her eyes and took the mirror the man offered her. She looked amazing; the rings in her nipples looked wonderful, the one in her clitoral hood sensational. Max smiled, and as if he could read her mind, told her, ‘It looks magnificent, slave.'

-oOo-

Enjoy more damsel in distress erotic adventures by Sarah Fisher in Captivation, Dr Casswell's Student and Dr Casswell's Plaything, all also published as eBooks by us at Avid:

Captivation

She heard the soft footsteps moving closer, and then in the starlight caught the glint of dark eyes. Instinctively she drew herself up into a small tight ball. Her unknown visitor moved closer – so close that she could hear his breathing. He was excited, struggling for control.

There was the sudden flare of a match, and in the flickering light she saw the heavy features of the driver who had picked her up earlier in the day. His lips were slack and wet, his eyes bright with excitement. He lit a candle and stood it on the flagstones beside her. His face contorted into a lustful grimace as he took in the details of her vulnerability…

When Alex Sanderson is commissioned to paint a mural on a remote Greek island, everyone is expecting the artist to be a man - not a beautiful English girl called Alexandra. Warned to leave by her mysterious employer's housekeeper, Alex finds herself caught up in a complex game of passion and punishment.

Humiliated, and passed from hand to hand, Alex embarks on a dark journey of self-discovery - a willing participant in her own Captivation.

Dr Casswell's Student

‘By God, you are a temptress, girl. You have the body of a whore and the face of an angel,' he muttered thickly, wiping his lips. ‘That old devil Orme at the Abbey said you would serve me well, and he was right. But you need to be taught who is master here and who the slave; unbroken you are far too heady a drug.'

From beside his bed he pulled out a thin whip, the ornate handle set with jet. ‘I used this to break my favourite horse. How fitting that I should use it next on you.'

When I saw the whip I began to struggle anew and cried out in protest. I would do whatever he asked. There was no need to beat me; wasn't I already at his mercy?

When Sarah Morgan is invited to help her employer, Doctor Casswell, translate an antique journal at his isolated country mansion, she finds herself drawn into the dark and sensual world of medieval slave girl, Beatrice de Fleur.

As past and present meet, Sarah is caught in an intense web of passion and pain, and stripped and bound for Casswell's pleasure, Sarah soon discovers what it is like to be a student of desire…

Dr Casswell's Plaything

Mustafa sneered. ‘You are so defiant. Think yourself better than me, do you?'

Sarah shook her head. ‘No, no,' she murmured. ‘I'm just nervous.' It was true; she was nervous and repelled by him.

Mustafa did not look convinced. ‘Get up,' he snarled. ‘I will show you who is the master here,' and catching hold of her arm he dragged her off the chair. Before she could gather her senses he sat down and pulled Sarah down with him, folding her over his knees.

‘I see you already know what happens to those who disobey,' he said huskily, fingering the bruises and weals that still lingered across her bottom. ‘You should take more notice.'

On the trail of medieval slave girl, Beatrice de Fleur, Sarah Morgan and her enigmatic master, Dr Casswell, find themselves caught up in the exotic surroundings of a Turkish port.

And when their hosts trade Sarah's body as payment for access to Beatrice's diaries, past and present mingle once again as they uncover more of the slave's sensual secrets. Naked, bound, and at the mercy of an unscrupulous museum curator, Sarah understands only too well how Casswell's passion and pain collide.

-oOo-

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