The Captive Flesh (15 page)

‘Yes,' she said hesitantly, thinking how dreadful it was to display oneself in that way.

At a word from Kasim, Leyla began kissing his leather-encased thighs. She rubbed her chin cat-like against his leg. Without changing position, she took the fabric into her mouth, biting into the flesh of his inner thighs. Her tongue drew wet trails across the leather as she licked and sucked at it. Slowly she worked inwards to mouth the bulge at his groin. Keeping her hands clasped behind her back, she leaned forward, working over his tumescence. Up and down, her busy wet mouth moved. Her open lips slid over the hidden cock-stem, unable to surround it but biting gently, teasing the swollen head which was clearly visible through the thin leather.

Then Leyla bent her head to nuzzle Kasim's testicles. She opened her mouth wide, her tongue snaking out to spread heat and spittle around the firmly encased bag. She lifted the balls on the point of her tongue, stroking firmly up the centre division and dipping beneath his thighs to lap at the root. A spasm passed over Kasim's face and he stroked Leyla's loose hair. She began again to slide her lips back and forth over the leather-covered bulge. The cock-tip jerked as Kasim pressed towards her mouth. Leyla nosed at the opening of the loose trousers.

Kasim shuddered and pushed her head away. ‘Not yet, my Leyla. Soon,' he said.

He hooked her under her armpits and lifted her, bringing her up his body. She stood on tiptoe as he bent his head and began biting her nipples. She squirmed, thrusting out her backside and clasping his thigh between her legs. He worked his mouth up her neck and placed biting kisses along her jaw. She turned her mouth towards him but he twisted away laughing, and bit her sharply on the earlobe.

Leyla gasped and sagged against him, her head falling back to reveal the long white sweep of her throat. Her hands were still clasped behind her. She did not bring them forward but closed her eyes and leaned into Kasim as he probed between her parted thighs.

‘Open wide to me,' he ordered.

Leyla spread her legs, bending her knees slightly to allow him greater access. Kasim plunged his fingers inside her, while she moaned and rubbed her pubis against his knuckles. When her buttocks began to flex and release, he withdrew his fingers.

‘Before you reach your peak of pleasure you must earn the right to your release,' he said. ‘You know what you must do? You will obey me? Let me hear you say it.'

‘I will obey you gladly, my lord. Always,' Leyla breathed.

Putting her from him, Kasim walked over to Marietta. Leyla stood with her chin down, breathing hard, waiting for his command. Kasim leaned close to Marietta. She could smell his breath; it was scented with cinnamon and lemon.

‘This wicked slave must be chastised. What shall we do with her?' Kasim's voice took on a harsher note.

Marietta tensed, ready for his touch. The scene she
had just witnessed had affected her strongly. Leyla's lovely body, bent in obeisance, the graceful way she had used her mouth and tongue, could not fail to be arousing. Watching her, Marietta had found her own desire mounting. She also found herself wondering what it would be like to be in Leyla's place.

When Kasim stroked her face she smelt Leyla's musk on his fingers. He rubbed his fingertips over her mouth, smearing the moisture and perfume into her skin. When he took a step back, she waited, her whole body cringing, for the expected slap to her breasts or buttocks.

The touch, when it came, was gentle. Kasim lifted the heavy mass of her hair and laid it to fall over one shoulder. For just an instant, so brief that she thought she imagined it, Marietta felt his lips touch the back of her neck, just under the leather strap. He kissed the prominent nubs of her spine, licking the places where the skin was stretched thinly over bone.

‘You refused to chastise Leyla, thinking to save her. But it was of no avail. She accepts her punishment gladly. And know this: she will never show you the same mercy.'

Kasim reached for a thin pliable switch. He ran it down Marietta's backbone and trailed the end of it into the cleft of her buttocks.

‘Spread your legs,' he ordered. And when she did so, hesitantly, he probed with the switch, tickling the still-sore flesh of her thighs and teasing the abused little bottom-mouth. She gasped as the pliable end probed between the slightly parted sex-lips, stroking the tender flesh with a delicate touch. Kasim flicked the notched end lightly from side to side, easing the moist lips more open with each stroke and reaching up so that it licked against the flesh-hood.

‘Wider. Bend your knees. Embrace the pillar between your thighs.'

Marietta bit her lip. Awkwardly, she bent her knees and spread her legs. The marble was cold, soothing against her glowing thighs. As she pulled downwards, her wrist bonds tightened, exerting pressure on her arms and forcing her underarms into prominent hollows. At the same time her breasts were pulled up tightly, the underswell was lifted and the slim pillar was pressed between her cleavage, so that one breast was forced to either side.

‘Part your buttocks and push down so that your flesh-lips open and your bud is laid directly against the pillar,' Kasim said, probing ever more deeply with the switch-tip.

Marietta felt the tip enter her body as she bore down on to it. Her vulva convulsed at the invasion, but she dared not lift herself up. Kasim moved the switch, very gently, so that it rubbed against the moist flesh-walls of her vagina.

‘As your buttocks are stroked, I wish your kernel of delight to be punished too,' he said. ‘It will learn discipline, as you will.'

Marietta felt completely vulnerable. The switch-tip moved inside her body with a subtle scratchy pressure. It made her long for the thrust of something thicker, something that would fill her and force her to contract and become liquid with juices. She trembled inwardly while the muscles in her over-stretched calves and thighs ached and burned.

It did not seem possible that she could maintain the position. Only the bonds at her wrists kept her from over-balancing.

Kasim withdrew the switch-tip. He ran it up her arms and flicked lightly at her armpits, rifling the
golden curls. Then he stroked up and down her ribs and circled the taut muscles of her belly. He teased her nipples, flicking the undersides, snapping each one upwards until it throbbed and tingled. Marietta clenched her teeth against the pain. She tensed, knowing that this was just the beginning. Her whole body seemed to be waiting, dreading the moment when he would begin lashing her.

But Kasim handed Leyla the switch.

Understanding now what was to happen, Marietta pressed more closely against the pillar. She felt a sort of desperation. Only now did she begin to see that there truly was no escaping the punishment. She knew that she would be unable to bear the lashing with dignity. Already her buttocks were so sore. At least her belly was protected by the pillar, but her legs were wide open, so that the upper and undersides of her buttocks were vulnerable to the lash.

She prayed that Leyla would not lash her too hard. She shifted against the ache in her arms and legs, hating the position she had been forced to assume and loathing the fact that Leyla could see her like this. New colour scalded her face.

‘Begin,' Kasim said. ‘Do not stop until I order it.'

‘Yes, my lord,' Leyla said meekly, stepping close to Marietta.

Slowly she raised her hand and lashed the switch back and forth across Marietta's already reddened flesh. Marietta cried out at the first contact. She tried to thrust forward, cringing away from each stroke. Her belly and pubis rubbed against the pillar, the contact forcing her heated sex to awaken once again. She writhed and sobbed, her buttocks bucking and jerking. Gripping the marble with her thighs, she pressed herself close to its cold surface. Each stroke of the lash
forced a cry from her as the warm pain radiated through her bottom and seemed to find a throbbing echo in the erect little nub that rubbed against the marble.

Marietta longed to toss her head from side to side in her distress, but she could hardly move her head. The leather collar ensured that her chin was forced to stay high. Her cries seemed to force their way out through her stretched lips, sounding thin and high.

Oh, it was unbearable that they should watch the way she worked her hips, thrusting and rubbing against the pillar like an animal in heat. The marble began to grow warm between her legs and as her juices began to flow, she slid her pouting sex up and down. Her breath came fast as she panted and groaned, twisting this way and that, unable to escape the switch which tormented and tortured, even while it prompted her abused flesh to new and undreamt-of sensations.

Leyla flicked the switch upwards so that it stroked the undersides of Marietta's thighs and buttocks. Now and then the flexible leather made contact with her valley, slapping at the tender inner cheeks. Marietta's frantic sobs filled her ears. She could no longer tell whether she was longing for the smarting pain or trying to escape from it.

Leyla began laying the strokes up the sides of Marietta's body. She beat her armpits, where the muscles were cruelly stretched. Then she gave her attention to the sides of her breasts, until Marietta felt that the whole of her body was on fire. Perspiration beaded her forehead, tears bathed her face and dripped off her chin. She tasted salt on her lips and let out a shuddering groan of complete surrender. It was as if something in her body gave way.

She seemed surrounded by waves of pain and
pleasure, mixed. Her body thrummed as if the whole of it was a musical instrument that gave out a prolonged and perfect note.

She realised, only gradually, that Leyla had stopped lashing her. The weals covering her body burned and stung, but no more came.

‘Enough.' Kasim's voice seemed to come from very far away.

Marietta gave a final sob and would have collapsed, but for the wrist bonds. Then she felt gentle hands on her.

‘Hush, lovely one,' Leyla whispered.

Marietta gasped at first at the agonising touch on her reddened flesh, then she felt a soothing coolness as scented oil was applied to her buttocks and back. The soreness and pain receded somewhat, but the disturbing heat remained in her flesh. Between her sex-lips her clitoris throbbed. Her womb pulsed, thirsting for release. She was again helplessly aroused. Her flesh stirred to a point of sexual excitement, but was given no chance of a final climax. She writhed in frustration, rubbing the strongly erect bud against the warm slick marble, wanting to put an end to her torment.

Kasim drew close. He turned her face towards him and licked the tears from her flaming cheeks. His hand strayed to her sex and played lightly over it. She leaned into his hand, yearning for the thrust of his hard fingers, but he laughed and pulled away.

‘Ah, not yet. There is to be no release for you until I wish it. You are not yet obedient enough. Your climax must wait.'

She felt his knuckles brushing the curls between her thighs as he touched the marble pillar, rubbing his fingertips in the patch of seepage.

‘How your body weeps for love of the lash,' he said.
‘This is something you cannot conceal from me. Or from yourself.'

He carried his fingers to his mouth and licked them. Then he smiled tenderly and kissed the tip of her nose. She felt her heart turn over at the unexpected kindness. When he kissed the corner of her trembling mouth, nibbling gently at her underlip, she tasted herself on his mouth.

‘And now,' he said in a deceptively sweet voice, ‘we make progress. You shall spank Leyla, no?'

The tears poured down her face, and, aroused past the point of no return, she nodded.

‘Good.' He reached up and unfastened her wrists. Rubbing the chafed wrists, he raised her hands to his mouth and kissed the open palms.

Marietta shuddered. The slightest touch from him sent a riot of sensations through her. It seemed that her soul, as well as her body, responded to him. It made her afraid. She could not allow anyone to have such power over her, but at the same time a sort of warmth was spreading outwards from her centre. All she had to do was embrace those feelings, give in to them. As Leyla had.

She lowered her eyes, not daring to meet his. His hard face looked like a mask of shadows in the candlelight. A small satisfied smile curved his mouth. It prompted her back to reality. She felt a surge of disgust at herself. Was it so easy to win her? At the first real testing she had been ready to give in, to welcome him as her master.

Now she raised her eyes and let him see the defiance that blazed there still. He laughed, the sound low and husky.

‘Ah, Marietta. How valiant you are! You warm a man's blood.'

He turned to Leyla. ‘Ready yourself.'

Marietta stepped away from the pillar. Her legs felt shaky. Each step brought a little shiver of sensation from her bruised flesh. She advanced on Leyla, knowing that she would do as Kasim ordered. There was no alternative. Besides, Leyla had beaten her without restraint.

She watched appreciatively as Leyla, breathing hard from her exertion, tossed back her ringlets of black hair. A few tendrils clung to her damp forehead. Her shapely body was covered in a sheen of sweat and the skin looked a soft peach colour in the candlelight. Leyla's full red-tipped breasts rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath. She smiled tremulously at Marietta and held out the switch. Marietta raised her hand slowly and reached for it, but Kasim stepped forward.

‘No. Use your hands only. You will spank her. Wait …'

He opened his velvet tunic and began to unbuckle his belt. ‘You will spank Leyla's buttocks while I allow her to pleasure me.'

Leyla threw herself at Kasim's feet and gripped his booted ankles. She rested her forehead on his feet. ‘Thank you, my lord,' she whispered.

Kasim stroked Leyla's bent head and looked into Marietta's eyes. His expression was eloquent. One day you will thank me for allowing you to pleasure my body, it said. Marietta allowed her lip to curl with disdain. A long, slow smile spread over Kasim's handsome face. He walked to the platform and laid down on the divan.