Her Master's Courtesan

by Lily White

  As soon as I felt the angry hard bone of her teeth puncturing the skin of my palm, I had my free hand around her throat, lifting her from the bed and pushed up against the unforgiving wall. Her hands instantly gripped mine, her nails digging into the skin. I squeezed tighter and she choked, desperate breaths blowing out over the wounds her fingernails were creating.

  She stopped struggling as her mind was deprived of the oxygen it needed and I dropped her down on the bed, the springs squeaking and groaning from the sudden weight – her chains rattling at her ankles. Even in the dark I could see her body hunched over, gasping for air and shaking from what I’d done.

  “Now…” I straightened the sleeves of my button down shirt. “…as I was saying before you rudely interrupted: The first thing you need to accept is that you are now owned. For now, I am your Master. I give orders - you follow them. It’s a simple formula that will keep you alive. Any disobedience on your part will result in punishment, as you have just learned. You have one job and one alone – to be a courtesan. You will refer to me as Master and I will refer to you in any way I please. My satisfaction and pleasure are the only two things that will matter to you. Your life no longer exists, nor does it matter.”

  As I spoke she continued struggling for air, choking and crying on the mattress. I grabbed her by the back of her hair and pulled her face up to look in my general direction. “Do you understand the rules I have given you so far?”

  She didn’t answer me and I sighed out heavily before tossing her back down on the mattress and flipping her dress up over her ass, my hand immediately running down the center of her panties – now soaked with fearful sweat. Gripping the material in my hand, I ripped it from her body. “These will no longer be necessary.”

  She cried out and struggled against me. Forcing her face into the mattress, I silenced her, once again depriving her of the oxygen her brain needed to function. She thrashed, her muffled cries exciting me, causing my skin to tingle and my dick to twitch.

  Like taming a wild animal, I took my time running my hand over her bare ass, teasing the delicate skin of her cunt with the tips of my fingers. I released her head, only slightly, to allow her to breath, but forced her back down again once I knew she’d taken a few desperate breaths.

  Many Masters I’d known openly detested this part of the training process. However, for me, it was the best part. It was the moment when I got to display my intellect and strength as something superior to the women I handled. My cock grew rigid as she continued to fight. I allowed it – enjoying the thrill of breaking down her mind and body, admiring the rough and shapeless clay that I would eventually form into the perfect whore.

  “I see no reason for drawing out the inevitable. I’m going to fuck you now; you’re going to like it and I’m going to enjoy how much you like it. I don’t appreciate tears when I fuck, so if I suspect you are crying – I’ll give you a reason to cry harder.” I lowered my head down so that my lips were against her ear. “Do you understand my instructions?”

  She nodded, the gesture so simple that I wondered if this woman would be easier to break than I’d originally suspected. My dick continued to pulse against the aggravating wall of material that blocked it from sinking within the bitch I held down with my hand. However, I lost some of my excitement when I suspected she would give in entirely on the first encounter. I wondered how far she would let this go without a fight.

  I reached down and ran my hand over the smooth expanse of her skin, smiling in appreciation of the way her body trembled and bucked against me. Fear was such a beautiful scent on the body of a woman – musky and raw – a flavor I would always endeavor to experience. I placed the tip of my finger over the tight pucker of her ass and the most amazing thing happened: she stilled. The fear and realization that I could do what I wanted, whenever I wanted, suddenly settling on her mind like a heavy blanket of horrifying comprehension.

  “Submitting so soon? I would have sworn you had more fight in you than that.”

  And she did. As soon as the unmistakable sound of my pants falling to my ankles echoed throughout the dark room, she bucked against my legs and I hissed at the feeling of my cock being released into the cold air – anticipation of the wet heat of her body, the triumph of taking a woman against her will.

  This wasn’t about sex and it wasn’t about the need to fuck until I spilled out to gain relief.

  No – this was about power, about dominance – about taking a woman who believed she was something to be valued and making her realize she was nothing more than a cunt to be fucked and a body to be controlled.

  She was a tool for my sick fascination – a victim of my sadism and a vessel opening to accept every decadent drop of pain and fear I was willing to grant her. She would thank me when I finished, would push her ass out in presentation for my rigid cock – she would come over the turgid skin and she would demand more – and I would punish her for that demand.

  This wasn’t about her pleasure – it was about mine.

  Slowly moving my fingers down her cunt, I tapped lightly against it, listening to her quiet whimpers, muffled by the mattress pressed up into the side of her face. I’d let her to turn her head to breath, but still had not released the fisted grip I had in the thick mane of her hair.

  “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  She started to cry, her body trembling with her sobs. I smacked her across the flesh of her ass, the strike so loud; it split the silence of the room. “I told you I’d give you a reason to cry harder. Do you want to see how far I’m willing to go?”

  The questions I asked were giving her a false sense of control. I understood this and I intended this. The mind is a delicate thing that needs to be handled carefully in order to keep it intact to retrain it. Giving a woman that false sense of control allows them to keep a small piece of themselves; makes them more aware of the fact that I can take that small piece and bend or mold it to my needs. My job is to break apart that small piece and rebuild it. Shattering it immediately would be the same as smashing a glass with a hammer - the fractured shards left too small and jagged to be placed back together. I wasn’t here to shatter her … I was here to transform her. By the time I finished, she would want the abuse, would see it as something natural and normal for her life.

  To shatter her would be the same as destroying her – and no man would value a worthless bitch who spent more time rocking in a corner than kneeling at his feet, willing and ready to service him in any manner that he chose.

  “Answer me, pet. Do you want me to fuck you?”

  “NO!” She screamed out and I smiled in response.

  Bringing my face down to her, I whispered, “Wrong answer.”

  I released her suddenly, biting against the pain of having to tuck the rock hard length of my cock back in my pants. She scrambled into a corner on the mattress, the springs screaming in protest at the sudden weight. I chuckled at the sound – they would scream louder.

  Once I’d redressed, despite the burning pain the material made against the skin of my cock, I moved to a locked closet on the side of the room. Removing the key from my pocket, I opened the door and searched in the darkness for the cruel instruments I would need to make my point.

  Selecting a thin rope of nylon fiber and a thick wooden paddle with holes drilled into its center, I closed the door and turned to gaze upon her. Still shadowed and hidden from view, I allowed my eyes to adjust fully until the perfect shape of her body came into view. I had one small advantage in the darkness; my eyes were not swollen from crying and I could act as the proper predator, sneaking up to fall upon her when she’d rendered herself blind by her own tears.

  My hands were wrapped around her wrists before she realized I was next to her. She struggled and fought, but her strength was no match to mine. Forcing her hands to the frame of the bed, I bound her wrists with the thin cord and she cried out when I tightened the knot. I grabbed the chains locked with shackles around her ankles and pulled them taut so that she lay
across the bed, awaiting my next move.

  The paddle whistled through the air when I brought it from above my shoulder down across the sensitive skin of her ass. A loud slap of wood across skin and she screamed while I absorbed the symphony of her pain. My cock thickened and pulsed, my head falling back and my body shuddering at the knowledge of how her ass would burn against me when I forced myself inside her.

  Another slap and another, and I heard her screams being muffled by the pillow I assumed she was now biting into. Smart girl.

  Two more slaps and I placed the paddle by her face, the wood touching up against her cheek. “Let’s try this again. Do you want me to fuck you?”

  She whimpered and I gave her a moment to gather her bearings, to consider my question and weigh the results of the answer she would give.

  “Please stop…Aiden…”

  Her voice was cracked and broken and anger danced along my spine like a flame following a line of fuel. My hand wound around the strands of her hair and I pulled her body up, arching her backwards at an angle unnatural to her spine. She screamed again and I placed my hand around her mouth to silence her cries.

  My tone was unforgiving and stern. “Never refer to me by that name again. To do so will result in the loss of your tongue.” I forced my fingers into her mouth and I pinched the tip of her tongue between my fingers, pulling it out from her lips.

  “You’ve now lost your ability to speak and only I can return it to you. Answer my question. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Fuck. You?”

  She nodded yes and I released her tongue and hair, allowing her to fall back to the bed. I grinned wickedly. Lesson number two was about to commence.

  “Wrong answer.”

  Her confusion was apparent in the way she cried out again. I pulled the paddle from beneath her cheek. The first slap had her biting her pillow once again.

  Another three and then I explained, “What I do to you is what I want to do. All that matters is MY desires and MY satisfaction. Therefore, it will be wise for you to remember that what you want does NOT matter. When I ask you what you want – the correct response will be to remember that your thoughts mean nothing. Your answer will be silence. Do you understand?”

  I waited for another sniffle or sob, but when none came I reluctantly replaced the paddle on the pillow. My cock throbbed for release, hormones rushing through my body and mind, driving me to violate the woman tied beneath me.

  It was a cruel way to indoctrinate her into the rules of her new life. I could have simply explained my demands from the beginning – allowed her to understand how powerless she’d become without the need of pain or torment. But what would be the fun in that?

  Slipping my pants from around my waist, I groaned to pull my cock free once again, to feel the painfully tight stretch of skin across the head of my dick. I crawled on the bed behind her, taking my time to rub my hands softly across the swollen and sore cheeks of her ass. She flinched away and I slapped at her playfully, “I wouldn’t do that unless I tell you to move. Now spread your legs.”

  She resisted at first and I reached between her legs to pinch her clit between my fingers. “You don’t want me to have to spread them, do you?”

  She didn’t answer, but her legs fell apart almost instantly. My eyes rolled at the pleasure her submission gave me. But it wasn’t enough, it would take time for her to submit to me completely, to know she is owned and controlled. Submission from the fear of pain was only the first step in the process.

  I grabbed the backs of her thighs, digging the tips of my fingers into the soft flesh, pushing her legs up so that every blessed part of her was spread before me. The chains rattled at her ankles and I positioned the head of my cock at the opening of her wet cunt.

  I would never stop appreciating the mechanics of a woman’s body. Even when her mind didn’t want the intrusion, her body prepared for it – an instinctive response that I used to my advantage. Allowing my cock to slip down where it brushed across her clit, I slipped a finger inside the moist heat of her body, crooking it at such an angle that I massaged a spot barely within reach; the one that would have her moaning out her body’s need.

  Her hips moved and I slapped at the sore skin of her ass again. She stopped immediately and I knew the torture it took for her to remain still when I had my finger pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves inside her body made for a man’s touch.

  I could feel the muscles tighten over my fingers, moving in such a way as to pull my hand farther inside. Her breaths came out in quick pants and I knew her mind would be torn apart if I didn’t walk her through what I would do to her.

  “Your body is a tool. It is flesh and bone created for my touch and for the touch of those I allow around you. It is built for my pleasure and designed to give ME what I want despite your opinions on the matter. I’ll teach your mind to function much like your body.”

  Removing my finger, I left her on the verge of her orgasm, her cunt dripping wet begging for my touch. Pulling my cock back up, I pushed inside slowly, luxuriating in the feel of her hot, swollen skin across the width. She stretched to fit around me, her muscles not used to size of my dick.

  I tsked. “You’ve gone without, pet. No man has used you as you were intended.”

  When I was buried to the hilt, I stopped and allowed her muscles to ripple along me. I pulled out, bringing myself to the tip and pushing forward again, the mattress sinking beneath her body from the force of my stroke. She moaned out, her cunt tightening over me, once again pulling me deeper inside and massaging the head of my dick against the soft walls.

  I lifted her hips higher to give me the perfect angle before I thrust inside her, sinking myself in and pulling back to the point where my head breached the opening before forcing my way back in. Her body responded beautifully; tightening over me, molding to the width of my shaft, gripping at me hungrily when I threatened to remove myself from her.

  She was as decadent as silk wrapped around my cock - my balls thickened and I felt the rush of cum as it tried to force its way up through my shaft.

  I pulled out before allowing that to happen.

  “Wouldn’t want to get you pregnant on the first night, would we?”

  She whimpered again, not understanding what I would do next.

  “That’s what the other hole is for.” I tapped the head of my cock against the tight puckered opening to her ass and she flinched. I dug the tips of my fingers into the flesh of her hips and held her in place.

  “Don’t worry, pet. Your perfect cunt brought me to the point where your ass won’t have to work as hard.”

  Using my finger, I slowly pushed into her clenched ass. Moving it in circles, I loosened the muscles while rubbing my shaft against her wet and slickened skin. When I’d worked the hole large enough to accept the head of my dick, I positioned myself and pushed in slowly, not wanting to rip the tissue from my intrusion. She groaned and I pumped in and out, just past the head of my cock. It wouldn’t have been enough if I hadn’t pushed myself to the edge already, but it was all I needed to spill into her, every muscle on my body tensing in response to my release.

  Pulling free, I left my cum dripping within the fold of her ass.

  I pushed myself up from the bed softly stroking my palm over the skin that was still inflamed and swollen from the force of the paddle.

  “Thank you, pet. You’ve pleased me.”

  She started to cry again and I allowed it. It was to be expected with the initial night. Her body had been abused enough for the time being. I redressed and moved to grab the paddle from the pillow, stopping suddenly when an idea came to mind.

  I left the paddle beside her – a reminder of what becomes of women who misbehave. Deciding to leave her bound for the night, I didn’t speak another word to her before exiting the room, finally to a point where I was spent enough to shower and find sleep.

  Rebecca

  I opened my eyes to discover that I’d been left in the terrifying darkness. Night and day could have passed
and I wouldn’t have known. There was nothing, not even the smallest hint of light dancing through a window or from under a door. My body hurt, especially my wrists where they’d been bound by the thin cord. I felt swollen between my legs and there was an uncomfortable and noticeable stickiness that made my stomach turn and forced bile up my throat.

  I don’t remember being brought here and I’m unsure how he was able to move me without being seen. We’d walked the rest of the exhibit after I met him. He seemed friendly enough –good looking and smart. He had an air about him that spoke of power and prestige, of wealth and influence in the community. I never suspected he could be a kidnapper or rapist. I thought I’d been careful by staying in public with him. We’d gone for coffee, but even then we hadn’t been in any place where we weren’t surrounded by other people. I’d gone to the restroom once and left my drink unattended. That was the only way I could think of how he could have done this.

  He’d been so charming at first, but now, looking back, there were signs of his aggression. If I stepped too far away, he would move closer again, always with his hand resting on some part of my body. I was attracted to him so I was more elated at the gesture than frightened. After an hour of spending time with him, his tone of voice changed. It was stern, forceful in the way he instructed me to turn a certain direction when we walked down the street or to sit once we’d selected a table in the coffee shop. I didn’t think anything of it and I was somewhat turned on by a man who was obviously used to getting what he wanted.

  And then the next thing I know, I’m waking up in this room. The tears were immediate after the confusion had worn off and I discovered the chains at my ankles. In the dark, I was able to surmise that I was on a heavy bed, the metal frame rough and cold beneath my fingers. I called out into the darkness and screamed when the full weight of my situation finally soaked in. Thoughts of my family and friends battered at my mind – I wondered if they knew yet that something had happened to me?

  When he entered the room, I couldn’t see anybody and I was still confused regarding what happened. I tried to remain calm, to remember the stupid advice I’d heard from police shows and talk shows about what to do if you were the victim of this type of crime. I remembered the girls who’d survived were the ones that remained level headed, who’d been cunning enough to escape their captor. I asked for his name and when he answered, I knew the voice instantly. It was smooth as satin, the deep baritone that created gentle waves of ease inside those that heard him speak. The same voice that had seduced me that day in front of a painting portraying a bound woman being fucked from behind.