The Captive Flesh (19 page)

The merchant nearby groaned with pleasure as Marietta's flushed face became streaked with tears. He plunged himself into Claudine's mouth until he climaxed with a hoarse groan. A small group had gathered to watch Kasim chastise Marietta. She heard the sighs of pleasure, the comments on her beauty. The watchers drew away a little as Kasim stood back and lowered his hand.

Marietta sagged. She bent over at the waist as if she could shield her tormented breasts from the sea of eyes. She sobbed without restraint as the warm pain flooded her breasts. Her belly jerked with the force of her distress … but inside her there was a hard peak of excitement. She was frightened by the delicious drowning feeling of submission. It had come stronger this time. Stronger even than when Kasim had lashed her in front of Leyla.

Kasim ran his hands over the vibrantly blushing breasts, squeezing hard and holding them up. He admired their colour. The pink nipples, cresting the dark-rose flesh, were startling in contrast. There were murmurs of approval and admiration from the watching guests. Kasim tugged on the chain attached to Marietta's beautiful gold collar so that she straightened up further and was forced to lift her chin even higher.

‘Keep your head high, Marietta,' he hissed. ‘Thrust out those breasts so that everyone can admire them, and keep those legs well spread. I want all my guests to enjoy your beauty.'

Marietta bit her trembling lips. A final sob was forced from her as she opened her knees wide, pushing backwards until the joints at her groin ached.

‘Good. Good,' Kasim said gently. ‘Now you are obedient.'

He tweaked her pubic curls, rubbing the oiled strands between his fingers, fluffing them up and stroking them back from the exposed and parted sex. Marietta felt herself bear down. Her sex seemed to push out. She managed to stop herself swaying towards his hand only with a great effort. Her sex burned and throbbed, yearning for any contact. It seemed that all her thoughts of rebellion, her wish for freedom, had sunk somewhere below her immediate consciousness. There was only the heat in her breasts, the hungry ache in her belly, the craving for sexual release.

Kasim patted her head then left her and walked over to Claudine. Claudine smiled, anticipating his approval. She licked her lips as if still tasting the merchant's thin milt. She brought her hands forward and placed them on her thighs. The fingers, spread and pointing inwards, drew attention to her hot little sex. As Kasim stopped in front of her, Claudine drew in her belly and looked up at him through lowered lashes. She thrust her hips forward so that the little purse of her naked sex was lifted invitingly.

Kasim's mouth thinned. ‘You are too eager! Hands behind your back,' he said, and pinched her nipples until she gasped with pain.

Hurriedly she clasped her hands behind her back. Kasim slapped her large breasts hard. Once, twice, three times on the outswell of each breast. Claudine's mouth opened with shock. It was plain that she had not been chastised in this way before. Marietta felt sorry for Claudine but her whole body pulsed with pleasure as she watched Kasim slap the rich outer curves. The upperswell and deep cleavage of Claudine's breasts
remained their normal shade of light gold, speckled with freckles, while the outer slopes – pulled taut by the held-back shoulders – were flushed deep rose. The effect was most enticing. Claudine's lovely mouth trembled violently and her eyes watered.

‘You should know better by now. What are you? Tell me.' Kasim's voice was deceptively gentle as he waited for the reply that did not come fast enough. He reached between Claudine's thighs and tapped the parted flesh-lips with two fingers, spanking the tender exposed flesh smartly.

‘Your … your obedient servant,' Claudine whispered, finding her voice. She winced and writhed as he grasped the whole of her sex and pinched the naked lips together. Tremors passed across her belly.

‘See that you remember that at all times,' Kasim rapped, removing his hand. He strode across the room and began speaking to one of his guests.

Claudine stared after Kasim, her face flushed and tear stained. She still looked shocked. Glancing at Marietta, she whispered in a shaky voice:

‘I thought I was special … that after the past few days … But he treats me like a common slave …'

Marietta understood. It seemed that sharing Kasim's bed did not raise one's status. She was inexplicably glad of the fact, but she trembled with fear. Kasim appeared so cold, so detached. What else would he expect of them? Was it not enough that they must display their naked bodies to all those lewd gazes; make their mouths available to whoever wished to use them and be forced to look into the eyes of each lustful guest? Even now she felt the merchants' eyes on her rounded arms and shoulders, on her breasts, and especially between her thighs.

She had heard the many comments and the laughter. Some of the merchants were fascinated by her difference, others were appalled.

‘Have you seen the pale slave? The new girl?'

‘Beautiful, is she not? Such pretty breasts.'

‘Yes. But she has hair on her sex! Disgraceful!'

‘I agree. But it's rather compelling. So pale and fine. One feels driven to feel it. To taste it. What must it feel like to plunge into a sex with hair on?'

‘Ah, yes. Or to bury one's fingers inside that pretty fleshpot while plundering her tight little anus.'

‘You only have to ask Kasim. He'll let you sample the goods. Is he not famous for his generosity?'

Marietta blanched at the last comment. Surely Kasim would not give her over to be used in that way. The thought of being penetrated, of her shrinking flesh sleeving those hard male organs while others watched, horrified and tantalised her. She knew that she would not be able to help showing her pleasure if anyone used her so intimately. How terrible to have to hold herself back as Kasim had ordered. But how much more awful to be viewed with her back arched, her buttocks working shamelessly, and her avid bud grinding against whatever surface presented itself. She shivered with the horror of it.

For though much time had passed since Kasim anointed her with spicy oil, she was still at a peak of intense arousal. The breast spanking had only added to the feeling. How wet and swollen she was. The normally pink flesh must be shockingly red and plump. It seemed dreadful that her open flesh-lips, the mouth of her central orifice, and the tormented swollen bud, were spread so wide to the hungry gaze of Kasim's guests.

Once she had hated the gold cage that masked her
intimacy, now she wished for it back. She did not think she could bear this new humiliation. If only she could crawl into a dark corner and hide. Her rosy breasts throbbed and tingled, but she must still bear the strokes and pinches of the guests. Now and then she must suck an erect cock, or suffer a mouth to cover hers and a thrusting tongue to circle the inside of her lips, questing for the last faint taste of some other's salty emission. And all of this was viewed by so many. Her expertise, her willingness, her physical perfection, everything was commented on. Oh, there could be nothing in the world worse than this.

Then she heard Kasim speak, and knew that she was mistaken.

‘Ah, Selim, my friend, and your entourage. You are late. No matter. You were ever one to make an entrance. Welcome. Welcome. Come sit by me. And I see that Gabriel is with you. Excellent.'

Marietta watched, wide-eyed, as Gabriel followed the jewel merchant across the room.

The tall blond slave was even more handsome than she remembered. His mane of light hair was loose, framing the hard planes of his face and his sleeveless leather jerkin was tight over his bulging biceps. It was laced down the front, revealing his upper chest with its frosting of blond hair. A broad studded belt cinched Gabriel's narrow waist. His full white cotton trousers were tucked into leather boots and he wore broad leather wristbands.

Marietta could not believe he was really here. It seemed so long ago since that day in the marketplace, but every detail of the scene she had witnessed was imprinted still on her brain and senses. Just looking at Gabriel made her long to touch him; to stroke her hands down those strong arms; to kiss his mouth – surely it was too beautiful to have been placed on a man's face. Wicked thoughts rioted through her. She imagined the taste of his skin. It would be salty-sweet, perhaps perfumed with some woody scented oil. Oh, to cup those tight buttocks; to lift herself on to his erect penis …

She tried not to stare; to veil her thoughts. In the marketplace, Gabriel had looked like a bruised angel. Now he looked like a field worker – strong and vibrant, attractive in a different, more earthy way.

Suddenly she was newly aware of her position. What was she thinking of? She was Kasim's slave, displayed
like the object of pleasure she had become. By an ironic quirk of fate, her role and Gabriel's previous role had become reversed. She shrank within herself.

It was unthinkable that Gabriel would now look on her humiliation. Would he pity or desire her? She remembered the sight of his anguish, the appalling sexual tension, and that final jet of seed when he could hold back his pleasure no longer. The sight had stirred her to a shattering climax. Now she was displayed in a similar state of helpless arousal.

But she was not set apart, as he had been – she was accessible to all who wished to use her. Would Gabriel too be allowed to play with her as the others guests were – or were slaves denied such privileges? She did not think she could bear it if Gabriel handled her as the merchants had. What if he should wish her to pleasure him with her mouth? She knew that she would accept his casual lust – her desire for him was so strong that she would deny him nothing – but she wished for so much more. Ah, to have his mouth cover hers. To have his fingers search out her tender places, draw the moisture from her willing flesh. She doubted that Kasim would ever allow it.

Marietta stared ahead as Selim, his women and Gabriel approached Kasim. Perhaps Gabriel would not know her; they had exchanged only the briefest of glances in the marketplace. Her face had been framed by the black hood of the robes of concealment. Would he recognise her as the owner of the stark oval face in which a pair of blue eyes had kindled with desire?

Gabriel glanced across at her and she saw his face quicken with interest. Perhaps he saw only two singularly lovely pale-skinned slaves, chained and arranged in postures of submission. All at once she had to know if he knew her. On an impulse she raised her eyes to
meet his. Deliberately, she smiled. Recognition blazed in his face immediately. A fierce joy raced through her. She and Gabriel held eye contact for what seemed a long time. For just that space, she forgot her humiliating position, the fact that she was little more than an ornament to Kasim. She was once again a free French woman: a woman who could choose the man she was drawn to. She put all the warmth – the naked desire – she felt for Gabriel into that one scorching contact.

Gabriel responded. Deep within his grey eyes a spark burned, just for her. He felt the same. She was certain of it. Her heart seemed to lift as Gabriel's mouth curved in acknowledgement before he looked away and took his seat.

Only then did Marietta look at Kasim. The unfathomable dark eyes glistened as they looked slowly from her to Gabriel and back again. Her blood seemed to grow cold. At once she regretted her actions. She realised now that Kasim had been watching her closely. His face was unreadable, his eyes hard as stones. The well-shaped mouth was little more than a line. Giving no sign of anything amiss, Kasim acted the cordial host, pressing food and drink on Selim.

Marietta watched the banquet progress with trepidation in her heart. She sensed that Kasim was displeased and she knew what he was capable of. Though time passed and nothing amiss happened, still she remained tense. Selim's slaves provided entertainment while everyone ate. The jewel merchant had brought many pretty women with him. Some of them were skilled jugglers, others were gymnasts.

Kasim seemed to be enjoying the entertainment, but Marietta – who was beginning to know him very well – perceived a contained excitement in those lean limbs of his. So casually did Kasim cup his chin and stroke
one long finger down the pale flesh of his cheek. The knuckles of his other hand, curved around the stem of a glass of ruby-coloured sherbet, were white. From time to time Gabriel glanced at Marietta, but she took pains now not to appear too interested. She felt afraid for herself, for Gabriel too, and did not wish to anger Kasim further.

The most beautiful of Kasim's harem women now appeared and handed out sweetmeats, pipes and tobacco. Kasim clapped his hands and musicians appeared. A figure swathed in veils stepped on to the floor.

It was Leyla. Her dancing costume was of aubergine silk, sewn with brass sequins. Under a transparent waistcoat her large breasts were bare, the nipples rouged, berry bright. She began whirling and stamping, marking time with snaps of her slender fingers. Her long ringlets and jewelled skirts flew out into an arc with the momentum of the dance. She batted kohlrimmed eyes at the guests, flirting with them, making suggestive movements with her hips. Stopping in front of Selim, she kneeled back, moving rhythmically until her head touched the floor. As she rose her mouth shaped itself into a kiss. Then she wagged her pointed tongue in an unmistakable gesture.

The guests watching clapped and called out in admiration. As Leyla dipped and swayed amongst them they pulled at her silken skirts, peeling off and discarding the layers. Selim, his florid face shiny with sweat, joined in enthusiastically. Soon Leyla wore only the waistcoat and a wisp of silk worn like a halter, slung low between her legs and tucked into a thin gold chain which encircled her waist.

She leaned forward so that her heavy breasts hung down. Her cleavage was deep and shadowed; the full
globes brushed her thighs as she dipped right over and rotated her shoulders. The shiny black coils of her hair spilled around her on to the carpet. Selim gave a low growl and grabbed for her.