The Captive Flesh (9 page)

She had no answer. He saw too much. Far too much.

With a movement of his hand he dismissed the other women. They ran from the room uttering cries of disappointment but obviously not daring to stay.

‘You too.' He gestured to the chained woman he had led into the garden, now sitting forgotten, her head still bowed in submission. ‘Marietta and Claudine only will stay. I wish them to attend me.'

Marietta stood up abruptly, intending to follow the other women from the garden. ‘You are insufferable!' she said. ‘You may order your harem women about but you will not order me. I am a free French woman. Mistress of myself. I will not stay to witness this act. Claudine, are you coming?'

Claudine hesitated. She looked at Kasim and then at Marietta. Clearly she was excited by the turn of events. Before she could move Kasim spoke.

‘Stop!' he said imperiously. ‘Leyla will suffer more if you do not stay.'

Marietta turned around. Beaten. He had found the one thing that would influence her. Oh, he was clever. As clever as the devil.

‘What must I do?' she said softly, admitting defeat.

Claudine's eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed. When Kasim ordered it, she went to stand next to one of Leyla's bent knees. He gestured to Marietta. Slowly she approached the other knee.

Kasim raised the switch and began laying light strokes across Leyla's taut stomach. She made no sound.
Red lines appeared on her white skin. The switch made a faint whistling noise as it cleaved the air.

Soon Kasim gave his attention to Leyla's thighs, laying the marks neatly across their tops. Leyla's hips squirmed. Her legs shook. The slightly parted lips of her sex were moist. As she thrust her hips back and forth as Kasim beat her, Marietta caught the scent of her sex. It was perfumed with something sweet and flowery, and underlying the perfume was her own heady musk.

‘And now …' Kasim said, his voice shaky, no longer teasing.

He began stroking the plump little sex with the notched tip of the switch. Not too hard, but hard enough for Leyla to begin to moan. It was the first sound she had made. Marietta could tell how she tried to hold back, but could not. Her moans were of pain and pleasure mixed. The sweat broke out on Marietta's body.

Reaching out, Kasim spread Leyla's naked pubic lips with his fingers. He circled the damp bud, which was thrust from its hood of flesh by the pressure he exerted. The tip of the switch teased the pink inner lips, flicking lightly across the quivering bud. Leyla's opening pulsed as if it hungered for the thrust of his fingers.

Kasim bent swiftly and placed his mouth on her sex. His lips worked as he tasted her and Leyla moaned at the unexpected tenderness of his touch. But before she could draw pleasure from the contact, he drew away and began to place light strokes of the whip on the pouting sex. Again he spread the flesh-lips and now the switch went to work on the tender exposed flesh.

Marietta wanted to cry out for him to stop, but equally she wanted him to continue. She did not want
to be here. She wanted to be Leyla. There … she had admitted it. The shaming heat flooded her cheeks, as her sex swelled and grew damp.

‘Ah,' Kasim breathed, absorbed in the sensuality of the punishment. ‘See how the pink flesh glistens. How swollen it is. How strongly erect the little kernel of delight is. It is well developed in you, is it not, my Leyla? What a hungry little bud it is, thrusting out for the caress of fingers and tongue. It is like a tiny cock, a salted nipple. And always thirsty for its punishment. How it throbs and stings when I beat it thus. And thus. Does it burn, Leyla? Does it throb? Do you long to be beaten harder?'

For a while longer he gave his attention to caressing the parted sex with firm strokes of the switch. Leyla writhed under his ministrations but her moans were muffled by the long hair stranding across her face. In a swift movement Kasim turned the switch, handle uppermost. It was thick, ridged with leather bands. He delved into Leyla, working the handle in and out of her entrance until it was shiny with her juices. Leyla's legs trembled so much that they seemed on the verge of collapse.

‘Hold her. Support her under her hips,' Kasim ordered, his breath coming fast.

Marietta and Claudine reached out and did as he asked. Leyla's buttocks were hot against Marietta's shaking fingers, and the luscious flesh trembled. Kasim withdrew the handle and began lashing the parted sex again, increasing the strength of the strokes with careful control, until the tender flesh was red and swollen and throbbing almost visibly. Leyla writhed, whimpering and sobbing, cringing back from the seeking tongue of the lash tip. Her hair lashed the tiles as she twisted her head from side to side.

‘Enough,' Kasim said. His face was flushed, his lips parted. ‘Now, Leyla, I shall solace you.'

He turned to Marietta. ‘See what a benevolent master I am? Only my favourites are treated thus. Is this not the most sublime punishment? The others vie for such attentions, but seldom are they rewarded. A lifetime of living in the harem has turned many of the women into sheep. They do not know how to be disobedient. Leyla here is different. She was purchased in the slave market. I trained her myself, and I shall train you too. That is why you are so special. Why I wanted you the moment I saw you, soaked and shivering on the deck of the ship. Those who have been free, need the firmest, most exquisite chastisement and discipline. Claudine will bend to the yoke before long I suspect. But you, Marietta … Ah, you shall be a triumph. And at the end you will be willing.'

His words filled her with utter dread but she had hardly time to ponder on them.

Kasim had been unfastening his belt as he spoke. He reached down and freed his penis. He held it for a moment, stroking it. Waiting. As if he wanted to savour the moment. When he loosed it Marietta saw that it was engorged, stiffly erect. Dark red, as if it too had been beaten. The stem was thick and ridged with prominent veins. It looked strong, vital. The moist swollen head of it was free from any covering of skin, unlike Gabriel's. The scrotum was dark and firm, like a plum.

The sight of Kasim's erect state stirred Marietta strongly. The stem and testicles were surrounded by thick black curls. Evidently the prohibition against pubic hair did not apply to him. She was glad; the hair made his genitals look more exciting, even a little dangerous.

Marietta envied Leyla. Her hungry swollen nether mouth, tortured as it was, was about to be given comfort.

As if Leyla knew what was going to happen, she whispered to Kasim, entreating him to have mercy. But the lovely husky tones of her voice made the words sound like a plea for more.

‘Kasim, please. I cannot stand it.'

He gave a throaty laugh and bent his knees. The strong thigh muscles flexed as he thrust his buttocks towards her sex. The cock jutted forward and up.

‘You must,' he said sternly. ‘Keep those arms straight. Forget your aching muscles. Bear my weight. It is your final ordeal.'

Even now he was not going to let her up. Her chastisement must go on. Her body, bent into that obscene bow, must now receive her master's phallus. Marietta shivered as Kasim thrust forward, nosing the tip of his cock into the pouting, half-opened little slit. The naked pubic lips opened around him as he thrust at the entrance, seeming to suck him in greedily.

Leyla's lack of pubic hair made her look all the more naked. Marietta could not fail to see every movement of her sex. The little kernel of delight, such a deep purplish-red, so strongly erect that indeed it was like a tiny cock, rubbed shamelessly against Kasim as he worked in and out.

Now he leaned into her and thrust deeply. Leyla's juices bathed his stem and glistened on the dark thatch of his pubic hair. He moved slowly in and out, his eyes hooded, his mouth stretched around his teeth.

Leyla moaned loudly. Marietta felt the muscles of her buttocks moving against her own hand as Leyla pushed forward to meet Kasim's thrusts. Her face burned with mortification. She was outraged that he
had forced Claudine and herself to witness this – act of debasement. She wanted to run from the room, to blot out the sight of Leyla's painfully exposed sex. To pretend that she was not maddeningly aroused by the sight of Kasim plunging into Leyla's willing flesh.

He had warned Marietta that he would punish her in the same way, bend her to his will. But was it truly punishment when one desired a thing, as Leyla plainly did? Marietta too desired it so intensely that she felt her own pleasure mounting unbearably. But never would she admit the fact to anyone else.

The cadence of Leyla's cries changed. Soft wet sounds came from the two joined bodies.

‘Soon, my Leyla, soon,' Kasim said hoarsely.

He placed his hands around Leyla's narrow waist, holding on to her as she thrashed against him now, pubis to pubis. Marietta's arms ached from supporting them, but she dared not let go. Claudine's lovely face wore an avid expression. She bit her lips, not troubling to hide her enjoyment.

Suddenly, Leyla groaned. Her buttocks tensed, and her belly jumped. Kasim stopped dead still. Sweat poured down his face as Leyla bucked against him, sucking her pleasure from the stem buried deeply inside her. He looked wracked by some inner torment and his face wore an expression of exquisite agony. Ah, how much like a bruised angel he looked. Leyla groaned loudly as her spasms faded.

In a moment Kasim withdrew but his cock was hard still and it glistened with Leyla's juice. Marietta realised that he had not spilled his seed. Somehow, with incredible restraint, he had managed to stop at the precise moment of his own release.

Kasim slumped forward, bending over the bow of Leyla's body in a gesture that possessed a singular
grace. His cheek lay against her belly, which was soft and relaxed now. A moment later, he sank back onto his haunches.

‘You may let her go,' he said shortly, as he adjusted his clothing.

Claudine and Marietta let Leyla down gently. Without their support she would have crashed to the floor. She lay on her back for a moment, taking deep shuddering breaths. Then, ignoring the two women, she scrambled up and walked across to Kasim who had seated himself on a divan.

Grasping the toe of his boot she covered it with kisses, murmuring, adoringly, ‘Thank you, my lord. My life. Oh, thank you.'

Still naked, the tears streaking her cheeks, she poured Kasim a glass of sherbet and, on her knees, handed it to him. She assumed the same position of submission Marietta had witnessed earlier – back straight, knees apart and head down. Her black hair flowed in deep waves over her breasts and pooled in her lap, masking the pouting belly with its lash marks and the tender abused sex.

Kasim smiled and cupped her chin, lifting her face to his gaze. With his thumb he wiped away the tears that streaked her scarlet face and tugged playfully at her underlip.

‘And now, my Leyla, I shall give you a task to perform. You are to take Marietta and Claudine and train them. I want them to be perfect in all the arts of entertainment and pleasure. I am planning a banquet for my friends in a few weeks' time. These two will perform for me then. If they fail to please me, either of them, you will be chastised. Mark me well. What you have suffered up until now, is nothing beside what I shall do to you then.'

Leyla gave a delicious little shudder. ‘All shall be done as you wish it.'

Claudine watched in open admiration. When Kasim smiled at her and beckoned her over, she walked meekly to him and sat at his feet.

Marietta could stand it no more. Her womb burned, crying out for the release that she craved but which she denied wanting. Kasim looked up and pinned her with his long black eyes.

‘The first thing Leyla shall do is choose you some beautiful clothes. I do not ever want to see that dress again.'

With those words he had made a gesture of finality. Marietta felt frightened at the thought of being without her stays and boned bodices. It was if by forcing her body to be unconstricted, he would force her mind to follow.

She felt that he saw inside her, knew what was in her very soul. But he would never reach that inner sanctity. She would fight him all the way.

She told herself that with a certainty she did not feel.

Kasim's full mouth stretched in a grin. She saw triumph there, and complete self-assurance. There was nothing she could do.

She whirled around and ran from the garden.

The harem was dark, lit only by one flickering oil lamp. Moonlight streamed through the carved window screens, making lacy shadows that loomed across the tiled floor. Soft snores filled the room. Now and then a string of small brass bells, hanging in a draught, gave out a musical tinkling.

In her sleep Marietta tossed and turned, disturbed by coloured images that invaded her mind. Her eyelids fluttered as her brows drew together in a frown. Her lips parted on a single word.

‘Kasim.'

Her dreams were full of the scene in the garden. She again saw Kasim standing over Leyla as she bent for him into the obscene bow shape. He was looking down on her pale, sweat-slicked body. Marietta stood at Leyla's side, feeling that mixture of intense shame and excitement as she witnessed the other woman's chastisement.

Then the dream changed. Leyla disappeared. Kasim and Marietta were alone. She was naked, and it was her that Kasim was tormenting.

‘Abase yourself,' he ordered. His lean angular features were composed into a frown. ‘On your knees.'

And her dream self knelt meekly before him.

The softly scented air played across her skin. Keeping her head bowed, she dipped down gracefully. Straightening her back, she thrust her breasts forward.

Without being asked to, she spread her knees wide
and felt the lips of her sex part as it was presented to his gaze. Though she was acutely self-conscious she gloried in the act of submission. Her mouth trembled as his dark eyes swept over her body, appraising the curves and contours.