Prisoner of the Island

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Prisoner of the Island Page 3

by Terri Pray


  “Why? Are you afraid to hear the words, or do you worry that they will let loose the fears from your heart?” Celeste watched him closely, taking in every small reaction. “Calm yourself, Steven, I have no intention of announcing your fears to the world.”

  “You'd best keep your assumptions to yourself, Celeste because I would not take kindly to you spreading them around the island. I'm not the weak fool you seem to think I am, you'll find that out soon enough. I'm a dominant not a submissive. I have no desire, or need to submit and the sweats are merely signs of a chill I have been fighting for these past few days. Nothing more.”

  Denial, she'd seen this before, just not over something like being submissive. Then again her introduction to this world had been through Davien. And Steven reminded her more of Tearlach than anything else. He was a proud man, the type that wouldn't admit to the weaknesses in his own mental and emotional make-up.

  He'd learn, eventually, but at what cost?

  Well, she wouldn't be around for that, or would not be the one to show him the error of his ways.

  “Your tea will be here shortly, Celeste.” Steven pushed up from the chair, shaking his head as he did so. “I will be back in a little while, our conversation is quite stimulating but I have some small matters to take care of.”

  “Did I chase you away?” She couldn't help but smile as she watched him take a step back from the chair, his steps uncertain despite the calm smile he kept in place across his face.

  “No, not at all. I've had this appointment set up for several days now and as much as I would enjoy spending the time with you I don't want to disappoint my appointment, it wouldn't be good manners.” He flashed a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

  “Well then, I'll be here, no doubt, for a short while as yet. Unless someone comes along to show me around the fortress in that time.”

  Steven opened his mouth to protest then shook his head and turned away without speaking again. There was something almost annoying about the man, but her curiosity threatened to get the better of her and she knew that wouldn't be a wise idea. Celeste forced herself to turn her attention away from Steven as he retreated through the throne room.

  Men like Steven and Tearlach, were one's she needed to stay away from. They had no care for anything in their lives other than their own delusions and needs, she'd learned that part all too well.

  “Mistress, may I bring you something to eat or drink?” The naked woman at her feet spoke softly.

  Celeste hid the frown as she looked down at the woman, the only thing adoring her flesh was the heavy iron collar about her neck. She knelt with her thighs spread, her flesh oiled and her body offered in a way that left Celeste battling between hunger and pity.

  “I thought he had ordered a drink for me, but it appears he did so only in his mind.” It didn't surprise her, he'd made no move to leave the chair until he excused himself, so just how could he have told someone to fetch a drink? “Tea, with a little milk and sugar.”

  “Yes, Mistress, is there anything else I can bring for you, or a way I can serve your pleasure?” She peered up at Celeste, the tip of her tongue snaking out over her full, swollen lips. “I would be delighted to serve you in any way you might desire of me, Mistress.”

  “I'm sure you would.” Celeste kept her voice cool, but her body tightened at the slave's words. Her nipples tightened, her sex rippled in hunger, she'd already felt the touch of a woman between her thighs once and it would be something she would enjoy again. Here, on the island, she could do that, she'd already figured that out. The slave would follow her through the fortress on her hands and knees, ready to please her with that sweet tongue, all Celeste had to do was tell her to obey and the slave would have done so.

  “So may I Mistress?”

  “Not this time, just the tea, I still have to learn a little more about the island.”

  The slave nodded and crawled away for several steps before she pushed to her feet and hurried out of sight. Celeste sighed and rubbed her fingers against her temples. Temptation everywhere, but she'd also be expected to enjoy some of that from time to time.

  Would that be so wrong?

  She had needs, hungers that Davien and Tearlach had both awakened, she wasn't the innocent anymore and at least with a woman she knew how to dominate them. Or had a good idea how to. She'd only had the chance to dominate men on the ship, now she wanted to spend time with a woman. One with a soft touch, gentle lips and the willingness to be submissive. At least here the slaves had no choice but to obey, they'd not fight back, she was aware of that, and she would be able to enjoy the time with them.

  This isn't right, I know what it's like to be a slave, to be forced into these situations, so why would I take advantage?

  Because she wanted to, needed to and desired the touch of a woman's soft fingers and lips. Was it so wrong to want to be touched in a way where she wasn't the submissive one?

  The slave walked back into line of sight, carrying a cup of tea on a delicate saucer in her hands. Her hips swayed, her long hair slipped over her body, caressing her naked flesh, her nipples hard and rosy as they begged for someone's touch.

  Do it, enjoy it, take what the slave is offering. Better me than someone else who might not be so gentle with her.

  But she didn't want to be gentle with the slave. She wanted to make her cry out, even scream, and that knowledge shocked her to the core.

  “Mistress, your tea.” The slave sank to her knees at Celeste's feet, parting her thighs wide and lifted the cup up toward Celeste.

  “Thank you.” She retrieved the drink, her gaze lingering on the woman's nude form. Her body tightened a little further, her thighs pressing tightly together beneath her dress. What good did it do her to deny herself the pleasure of the woman's body? It was almost expected of her to use the slaves and as long as she kept her dominant position no one would think any less of her.

  “Mistress? You look almost distressed?” The slave spoke quietly, her soft lips parted in a gentle smile. “Is there anything I can do for you? Something to ease you?”

  There were many things she could do to ease Celeste's tension. But did she have the courage to give the order? Celeste took a sip of the tea and watched the kneeling slave. The woman was attractive, and there was a subtle level of hunger in her eyes.

  “Yes, you can serve me. But first I want to finish my tea, until then, kneel there, hands behind your back, head bowed.”

  The slave obeyed instantly, what other choice did she have unless she wanted to be punished.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Celeste smiled as she led the way out of the throne room, and down a flight of steps. It hadn't taken long before she had been able to find someone who could explain to her just where the play rooms where, and what she was allowed to do with a slave that belonged to the island. Which basically amounted to anything she wished, just as long as she didn't leave any permanent marks, or kill the slave in question. Killing a slave, or leaving them unable to serve, wasn't something she had in mind, so there wouldn't be a problem there.

  The stairway was well lit, as the entire fortress appeared to be, and it led down into the bowels of the building. A thick wooden door, bound by black iron, barred the way only long enough for Celeste to push it open and order the slave inside. The sight that greeted her sent a shiver of delight through her being.

  Torches burned along the walls. Tools of restraint, pleasure and pain decorated the walls and tables. Floggers, canes, whips, restraints, leathers, pincers, clamps, her gaze wandered over the collection, her heart pounding against her rib cage. Here she could experiment, learn more about herself and unleash the need to dominant without anyone attacking her for it.

  No Davien, or Tearlach to stop her, or use her for amusement.

  Which is exactly what she needed in order to relax and enjoy. The tension eased from her shoulders and the slave girl followed her into the dungeon without a word.

  She wasn't sure just what she would do with the slav
e, but the ideas were slowly forming. If she was careful, if she pushed at just the right times, then she'd be able to enjoy herself and discover a little more about her needs as a dominant— as a Mistress. God, if Davien could see her now he'd fume.

  But why?

  He'd have no reason to be angry with her, he didn't own her any longer, nor would he again if she had anything to do with it. She was free of him, of everything he had done to her and now it was her time to take control.

  “Where do you want me to go, Mistress?” The slave looked back at Celeste, her eyes wide, a soft tremble claiming her voice. “Is there something you want me to do, or say?”

  “Go to the whipping post, put your hands into the loops and wait for me.” Celeste took a deep breath and tried to push back her doubts. She had to get those under control if she truly wanted to go through with this, the slave couldn't be left just standing at the post either, she had to take care of that and make it look as if she knew what she was doing. “I'll be there in a moment to secure you in place, but if you're not in position then this play will quickly turn into your punishment, is that clear?”

  “Yes, Mistress, I understand and won't disobey you, please— I'm begging you to give me a chance to prove myself to you.” The slave's voice shook as she hurried to the whipping post, looking up at the links, the chains and the supports that waited there for her, without another word she slipped her wrists into the waiting loops and pressed her naked body against the post.

  Good, at least the slave was obedient, that would make things easier or so Celeste hoped. The woman arched her back and looked over her shoulder at Celeste. Her gaze lowered quickly, her thick lashes brushing over her pale cheeks. For a moment Celeste could almost believe that the slave was afraid of what would be done to her, but the glint in the naked woman's eyes told a different tale.

  She wanted the painful delights she hoped Celeste could offer her. She waited for the touch of pain and pleasure from Celeste's hand, or an instrument Celeste might use. And if she kept her waiting much longer her interest in Celeste would wane.

  Instruments of pain and domination lay waiting for Celeste on the table, ranging from crops to canes, floggers to whips, clamps and more, but where to start? She traced her fingers over the handles of the floggers and canes, before picking up a heavy flogger and shaking out the tails. A smile tugged across her lips at the feel of the leather wrapped handle in her hand.

  “Mistress?”

  “Silence, slave.” Celeste growled. Fine, she had to keep control of her emotions whilst she did this. She set the flogger down long enough to walk over to the slave and secure her to the whipping post fully. With the chains locked in place about the woman's waist and the manacles fastened about her wrists, the slave would be unable to move away from the post without being released.

  The flogger felt right in her hand, heavy without being uncomfortable. Good. She'd be able to use this easily enough on the slave.

  “Mistress, I beg you, let me please you.”

  “You will, trust me, you will.” A cool wall settled about Celeste's heart as she snapped out the tails of the flogger. “Before this is over you will be begging for me to stop.”

  “Mistress, I hope you are right, for no one has been able to make me beg for that before.” The look in the slave's eyes triggered a silent roar in Celeste's heart.

  “That is about to change.” Celeste let her gaze range over the woman's back before she lifted the flogger and brought it down against the pale, unmarked flesh. The blow light this time, not because she didn't want to hurt the woman, but for other reasons.

  The slave smiled and turned to face the pole, little more than a soft hiss passing through her lips from the light caress of the heavy leather tails. Good. She wouldn't expect the later blows to be heavier. Slowly but surely Celeste worked the leather flogger over the woman's back, her gaze intense, focused on the naked flesh before her. And that was flesh that slowly turned pink under the caress of the leather despite the lack of concern that the slave appeared to show at what was going on.

  “You're thinking this is all that is going to happen to you, a woman with a flogger, gently striking you, nothing too intense as I obviously don't know what I'm doing, correct slave?” Celeste kept her voice low, the rhythm of the flogger never changing, her tone non-threatening as she watched the slave's shoulders tighten.

  “No, Mistress— please— it's nothing like that, I swear.” The panic in the woman's voice evident as she twisted to look back over her shoulder. “Mistress, I'm begging you, believe me— I wouldn't think such a thing about you.”

  “Yes, you would, given half the chance.”

  The slave shook her head, sucking in her bottom lip, her teeth sinking into the full, red flesh.

  “Lying isn't wise in a slave.” Celeste snapped the flogger through the air, letting the ends of the tails bite into the slave's ass with a sharp hiss. “You will learn to be honest with me.”

  The slave cried out, arching onto her toes as she lifted away from the blow, her lips parted in a soft o. “Mistress, I'm not like that!”

  “Yes, you are.” Celeste shook her head and hid a smile, she could almost hear the slave's thoughts, the protests and soft pleas just to play the role, but she was in for a shock. “I'm no fool little slave, I can read your body, your thoughts on this, you don't seem to realize that those earlier blows were nothing more than a warm up for me.”

  “A warm up?”

  Celeste tried hard not to growl, the question and the tone in the slave's voice told her far too much about the lack of experience the men and women who called themselves dominants in this place truly had. “You'll learn, in time, if I permit you to be the target for my attentions again.”

  Confusion flashed across the bound woman's features. “I don't understand, Mistress, just what is a warm up?”

  “The way the flogger has been used on you is a warm up. It permits your body, and mine, to be prepared for what is to come. This way you will be able to take a lot more pain before you finally collapse.”

  The slave didn't speak for a moment, her brow furrowed, a small pin prick of blood touching her lips from where she had chewed them. “Is that normally done, Mistress— it's just that no one has ever mentioned it before.”

  “It is when the scene is not for punishment, but for play, or so I was taught.” Celeste watched the young woman closely. “But it's becoming clear that such a thing is not common within these walls.”

  The naked woman looked away quickly, little more than a soft whimper passing her lips now. A full body shudder ran through her exposed form, her hands clenched into fists and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she tried to control her reactions to Celeste's words.

  Celeste waited until a count of ten before she lifted the flogger again, giving the woman the chance to mull over some of what had been said to her. Her jaw set into a tight line as she lifted the flogger and focused on the woman's back.

  I don't have to do this!

  Yes, she did. She wanted to and needed to all rolled into one. She lifted the flogger, shifting its weight in her hands before she brought it down across the slave's back with a harsh slap. A scream tore from the woman's lips as she arched onto her toes, shifting her weight quickly.

  Celeste no longer needed to think about it. She brought the flogger down hard, fast and without mercy across the woman's back time and again. Pink skin turned into deep red, each slap of the leather teased a cry of pain into life. The slave twisted against the pole, her hands tightly wrapped about the chains. The woman gasped, whimpered, her body tight, muscles knotting across her shoulders and back as she danced from one foot to the other. If the slave had held onto any doubt that Celeste knew what she was doing, it had ended with how the flogger was now being used on her back.

  How long she kept up the play of the flogger against the slave Celeste couldn't be sure. But when her own arms began to ache she knew it was time to ease down, or change tactics. The slave whi
mpered when Celeste turned away from her bound form and tossed the flogger down, she didn't have time to check the tails just yet, but the small voice at the back of her mind reminded her she'd have to do that after she finished with the pretty piece of property.

  Did the woman think Celeste had finished?

  Well, she was about to find out just how wrong she was.

  The cane, with its wrapped leather handle, felt comfortable in her hand and Celeste turned, swishing it through the air with sharp snaps on the walk back to the bound woman. The slave looked back over her shoulder and paled, fully.

  “Mistress, please— the cane will hurt.”

  “Yes, it will.”

  “Mistress, I'm begging you, don't.”

  “This isn't about what you want, slave.” Celeste smiled and tapped the tip of the cane against the woman's bare backside. “This is about my desires, my needs and my wants, not those of a piece of property, an animal, who has no say in what I will do.”

  “Mistress!”

  Celeste wasn't about to argue with the slave, and brought the cane down, hard and fast, against the woman's buttocks with a snap that broke through the air of the dungeon. The slave screamed. The sound teased a smile from Celeste as she watched the welt spring into life across the slave's naked flesh.

  The next strike of the cane demanded a scream from the slave, her hips jerked, she tugged at the bonds that held her tight against the pole but still she couldn't escape from the pain that the cane offered her. The welt that rose on the woman's bottom only begged for more to join it.

  Something she was more than willing to do.

  Each fresh touch of the cane brought with it a new welt and a fresh scream from the slave, the sounds and dance that the woman made were enough to spur Celeste on until the slave's buttocks were well lined and welted from the use of the cane. Each new cry did something to Celeste that she hadn't been expecting.

  It aroused her.

  Her inner walls tightened, rippling the hunger to have something pressed between them. Slick heat slowly coated her intimate walls. She shivered, trying to control her hunger. She couldn't give into this. Not until she was ready, completely ready for the consequences.

 

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