Captivation

by Sarah Fisher

  Moaning and twisting, with Starn supporting her, Alex surrendered herself totally to the feelings Gena lit in her. All restraint and all embarrassment was pushed back by her body’s single-minded struggle for satisfaction.

  Suddenly Alex knew she couldn’t resist the spirals of excitement any longer. She screamed, letting the heat of the climax engulf her. As though in a dream she heard Starn laughing softly, still holding her tight. Even before the last waves of pleasure had crashed through her she heard Tourne say:

  ‘Very good, Gena. Now come to me.’

  Alex opened her eyes in time to see the luscious blonde crawling towards her master. As she reached him she lay her head in his lap.

  He looked up at Alex whilst he ruffled Gena’s hair playfully - it looked as if he were stroking a kitten.

  Alex watched, mesmerised, as Gena began to undo the zip of his trousers. Before she could free his cock, he tipped her head back and kissed her full on the lips. Alex shuddered, imagining the salty taste of her own juices on Gena’s mouth.

  Behind her Starn relinquished his grip. His voice was thick with excitement.

  ‘Take off your dress, bitch,’ he said huskily. Alex looked over at Peter Tourne in desperation.

  He merely smiled arrogantly as Gena ran her expert tongue along his engorged shaft. ‘Do exactly as Starn tells you,’ he said quietly.

  Alex thought about the night before. Hadn’t he said that she would learn to obey him? She could hear his voice in her spinning head: ‘you won’t need to ask me what I want, you will know instinctively. You will be available for everything I desire. All the time, night and day’. Was this what he meant?

  Alex pulled her dress up over her head and dropped it to the floor. Naked, she turned to face Starn.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said, and sneered victoriously. ‘Now come closer.’ She did as he ordered, trembling as he lifted her right breast to his lips and lapped at the bruise Mario’s bite had left. Cradling her breast in his fingers he closed his lips around her nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth. Below, he delved into the fragrant moist confines of her body. Her sex, so close to orgasm, tightened around him. Starn grunted appreciatively.

  Eyes alight with sexual hunger, he guided her back towards a sideboard. Resting her weight against the edge, he slipped his hands under her thighs, lifting them to encircle his waist. With one hand he unzipped his trousers, letting them slide towards the floor.

  His cock was slim and arched towards Alex with a single glistening drop of moisture clinging to its tip. He let the swollen helmet nuzzle between her throbbing lips. The sensation made her shiver. He sneered again as he saw her reaction, and then pulled her forward roughly so that he could slip into her.

  As her body closed around him, his face contorted into an expression of pure victorious pleasure. She glanced down and was shocked by the image of his slim phallus sliding into her, her naked sex gathered and puckered around the junction were their bodies met. Above his cock, the little bud of her clitoris throbbed, revealed and then hidden by each of Starn’s eager thrusts.

  Alex could sense it wouldn’t be long before Starn lost control. Across the room Peter Tourne watched their coupling dispassionately, despite the ministrations of Gena. In his lap her red lips closed again and again on his erect penis. Only a slight tightening around his mouth and jaw gave lie to the sensations the blonde was lighting in him.

  Alex held his stare, watching every nuance of his expression, whilst Starn forced himself deeper and deeper into her. His thrusts were wild and ragged now, making her already aching body feel sore and beaten.

  From across the room, perched as she was on the ornate piece of furniture with Starn thrusting maniacally at her, Alex watched Peter Tourne swallow hard. He seemed to momentarily lose his concentration, and she knew he too was losing control. In his lap Gena moaned as she swallowed, lapping against the pulsating ejaculation of his phallus.

  The sound of Gena’s muffled little cry was enough for Starn. He lurched forward. Deep inside Alex felt the energetic throb of his orgasm breathlessly he leant against her, his heat seeping through into her naked skin. She gasped and trembled again as she felt his seed fill her to the brim.

  Peter Tourne pushed Gena away, letting her collect her clothes, whilst Starn stepped away from Alex, his spent cock trailing its juices onto her thighs. He grinned lazily at her, his eyes glistening.

  Peter Tourne stood up, still holding Alex’s gaze.

  ‘I want you to begin the preliminary sketches for the mural today,’ he said, as if they were both stepping away from a consultation meeting. ‘Perhaps you would start after lunch. I’m sure you could now do with a little rest - after all your exertions.’

  Alex nodded, ‘I’ll begin this afternoon,’ she said with equal coolness, and stooped to pick up her dress, slipping it easily over her shoulders. She followed him to the door, her expression as impassive as that of the man she knew she would learn to relish; the man she knew could guide her to the dark heights of ecstasy.

  Back in her cabin Alex showered quickly, her mind desperately trying to blot out the exotic images of Gena crouched between her legs. She turned the water to a roaring bore to drive away the smell of Starn’s body and the warm glow that still pulsed from deep within. Naked and still damp, she threw herself onto the bed and dragged the quilt up and over her body. Seconds later she fell asleep, her dreams alight with the new sensations Peter Tourne’s tuition had awakened in her.

  When Alex awoke the afternoon sun was streaming into the comfortable bedroom. Outside in the cabin’s sitting room someone had opened the French windows and left a tray of food on the table outside on the terrace. The tray was complete with a bowl of tiny roses. Alex stretched, feeling the aches and pulls of the exertions of the last twenty-four hours.

  As she dressed she caught sight of herself in the bedroom mirror - her shaved pussy gave her whole body a strange alien quality. She stopped for a few seconds to examine her reflection. Her eyes glittered, fresh from sleep. Below on one breast were Mario’s teeth marks, like a livid blue badge. Lower, below her waist, her body ached, but even so it was still only the exotic naked lips of her sex that really marked the changes that had taken place.

  She slipped on a light Indian cotton smock with sandals, deciding - in view of Peter Tourne’s apparent tastes - that it might be better to leave her underwear off. After she’d eaten she collected her shoulder bag, picked up a sketchpad, pencils, and her tape measure, and then set off into the garden to begin work on the site of the mural.

  The long gallery was deliciously cool. It was thrown into deep shadows, and it didn’t take Alex long to find a comfortable spot to contemplate her new commission. She chose not to consider what lay beyond the door at the end of the gallery.

  In Vernis restaurant she had painted a banqueting scene, showing wild revellers in beautiful medieval costume. The overall effect had been rich and colourful, not unlike a tapestry. But what would she create for Peter Tourne?

  She smiled to herself - a Bacchanalian orgy would be most appropriate, she thought darkly, as she began to make a few preliminary sketches.

  On the ceiling of the long gallery the reflections of the swimming pool below shimmered and glinted. She stretched, enjoying the luxurious setting and the quietly calming sounds of the water. She didn’t hear Peter Tourne’s soft footsteps as he came in through the archway, and she jumped when he appeared in her field of vision.

  He smiled at her discomfort. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  Alex shook her head, glancing up at the enigmatic man who had discovered the way to set her body alight. ‘I was miles away, thinking about what I could do with this.’ She lifted her hand to indicate the blank walls.

  He moved a little closer his eyes were dark and mischievous. ‘How quickly your mind moves onto other things - I’m impressed.
May I ask what you have decided to paint for me?’

  Alex sighed. ‘That isn’t exactly how this works. You’re the client, you tell me what you want, and then I do it.’

  He stared at her. ‘An arrangement I approve of.’

  Alex blushed and lay down her pencil. She could feel his eyes on her body. She stood up to face him, feeling the little flurry of excitement and fear returning in her belly. He lifted a hand and ran it gently over her breasts. Her nipples hardened at his touch. Lower still he stroked at the contours of her sex. She moaned as his knowing fingers traced her heavy outer lips. He smiled at her, like a dark and dangerous wolf, and then stepped back as if satisfied.

  Alex was astounded by the intensity of feelings he lit within her, realising too that he had been exploring her to see if she was wearing anything beneath the smock.

  ‘I like my pupils to be ready for my lessons, whenever I want to instruct them.’ His voice dropped to a low purr.

  Alex shivered.

  Tourne glanced towards the door at the end of the gallery.

  Alex laughed nervously and tried to tear her mind back to the mural. She focused unsteadily at the blank gallery wall. ‘What do you imagine when you look at this wall?’ she said as lightly as she could.

  The question seemed to break the spell. He stepped forward to touch the smooth white plaster. ‘A forest,’ he said. ‘A magical, wild, green place, full of angels and devils and exotic mythical beasts.’

  Alex nodded it was an idea that smacked of sheer genius. The gallery, with the water below and its backdrop of tangled rich green creepers, would be an ideal setting for his fantasy forest.

  ‘That’s a wonderful idea!’ she said enthusiastically. ‘Do you want people in your magical forest?’

  Peter Tourne looked back at her, his eyes alight and glistening. ‘Oh yes,’ he murmured. ‘What would fantasy be without people to enjoy it?’ He touched the wall again. ‘Lost souls playing games in amongst the trees.’

  Alex looked at him levelly. ‘Lost souls?’ she murmured.

  He shrugged. ‘Players then, lost souls is not quite what I mean.’ He paused and stared at her. ‘What I am striving to create here at KaRoche is a game,’ he said softly. ‘A dark magical compelling game.’

  Alex swallowed hard and forced her eyes to hold his, knowing that somehow they had strayed away from the mural and back into the electric desires of Peter Tourne’s mind.

  ‘And what do you want me to do with your mural, Mr Tourne?’

  ‘I would like you to reflect my intentions,’ he whispered. ‘Hint at the magic that can be had if you just submit to it; lay yourself bare to its enchantment.’

  Alex felt her colour rise. ‘And if your players submit themselves to your magic?’

  He moved closer, his fingers returning to the hard puckered buds of her nipples. ‘Then they can choose how long their enchantment lasts. Some will choose to stay in my wood forever. Others will leave and plant a fantasy of their own.’

  Alex shivered, but did not resist as his lips pressed to hers. His fingers on her breasts became rougher, twisting and nipping at the sensitive buds. Alex moaned, feeling the heat rekindling between her legs. She pressed herself to him. Instantly he froze and pulled way, his eyes darkening into unfathomable pools.

  ‘Let us not forget, Alex Sanderson, who the master is here, and who the pupil is.’

  Alex blushed. ‘But I thought...’

  He ran his hand down over her belly. His touch was totally possessive.

  ‘There is no need for you to think, Alex, I will think for you. You have chosen to stay, now you must realise that you have joined my game and you will play by my rules.’ He let his hand drop away and walked back towards the archway. ‘I will see you at dinner.’

  Alex nodded instinctively and picked up her drawing pad, clutching it like a touchstone against Peter Tourne’s dark enchantment. After he left she stood staring at the blank wall of the gallery, her mind reeling with erotic images that he conjured in her mind, and a peculiar sense of frustration.

  It took time for Alex to regain her composure. Despite Peter Tourne’s unexpected intrusion she knew she had to get on with the sketches and lay her tape out to measure the walls. A residue of excitement glowed in her belly with an intensity that both surprised and unnerved her. Her hands shook as she scribbled down the measurements and then some ideas for the mural. The words ‘dark enchantment’ appearing again and again on her list. Finally she sat down by the poolside and began to sketch.

  Drawing was like an addiction to Alex. Its magic pulled her in so that it was easy to forget everything else - or at least, almost everything else. She worked single-mindedly until the fading light made it impossible to continue. Glancing at her watch she realised with surprise that most of the day had gone. She lay the sketchpad down and collected her pencils together. As she took one final look at the pictures she had drawn she realised that every man’s face bore an uncanny resemblance to that of Peter Tourne.

  She stared at the drawings as if she was seeing them for the first time: Between two trees a nymph was tied and blindfolded, awaiting the attention of her master, her pert breasts pressing through the gossamer of her robe, her sex open and exposed. On the adjoining page a second girl lay spread-eagled. She struggled and fought, her hips lifting instinctively, while the satyr who crouched above her looked on with a riding crop in his hand. On the next sheet, in a shady woodland glade, two women embraced, one kneeling before the other, her tongue deep in the other woman’s quim, while their master looked on with pleasure. Alex reddened furiously and snapped the sketchbook shut. Stuffing it into her shoulder bag she hurried back to the cabin in time to change for dinner. Back at the cabin Alex quickly got ready for dinner. Sitting by the dressing table, adding the final touches to her make-up, Alex wondered if Gena would come to call for her again. She leant closer to the mirror, adding a final touch of lipstick. The soft coral pink complemented her light tan. As she drew the stick across her lips she thought about Gena’s mouth pressed close to her sex, its contours working on the delicate folds of her body, bringing her closer and closer to the moment of release. The intense images brought a flush to her cheeks. How was she going to face Gena or Starn after the earlier events in the sitting room?

  Meeting Peter Tourne had changed her life forever. Trying to dismiss the erotic thoughts she picked up her bag and turned off the lights. Standing in the darkness she wondered for a moment what other lessons he had in mind for her. Outside, the night closed around her like black silk, adding to the sense of expectation. She nibbled her lower lip; was it possible to live so close to the edge? With every minute that passed something seemed to make her think about passion or pain. As Alex reached the doors to the villa she hesitated, hearing the sounds of voices from within. She wondered what she might discover inside.

  The doors opened before she touched the handle. Peter Tourne’s housekeeper stood in the hallway, her dark eyes expressionless. Alex nodded her thanks, wondering whether the old woman’s tense demeanour was one of excitement or anger.

  ‘They waiting for you upstairs,’ she snapped and hurried away into the shadows.

  Alex climbed the stairs and found Gena and Starn sitting on one of the long leather sofas in the sitting room. They were each cradling a glass of rich red wine. Alex felt herself blush even before anyone had a chance to speak.

  Starn nodded towards the next flight of stairs that led up to the dining room. ‘Peter is waiting for you, he would like you to go up to him.’

  Alex went without hesitation, relieved not to have to make polite conversation with her two morning lovers.

  Peter Tourne was standing by the window speaking into a mobile phone.

  ‘Yes, it’s working out fine, we’re just about to have dinner,’ he said, watching Alex’s progress as she crossed the room. ‘In fact she’s here n
ow, would you like a word with her?’ He handed her the phone. ‘It’s your agent.’

  Alex felt a sense of relief; Laurence Russell represented normality and real life. While in London he’d always seemed a little disturbing, on D’arnos even the sound of his name lifted her spirits. She glanced at her host, and immediately realised he had no intention of leaving. ‘Hello?’ she said.

  ‘Hello, Alex. I thought I’d give you a day or two to settle in. How’s it going?’

  The tension in Alex’s stomach eased with the sound of Laurence’s familiar voice.

  ‘I hope Mr Tourne’s treating you well. He’s a very important client of mine.’

  Alex swallowed hard, staring at Peter, who was standing beside her.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve started the first sketches today.’ She imagined Laurence in his London office. He often worked late, and as he made enquiries about the job she visualised him seated behind his impressive oak desk, his grey eyes flashing. Odd, she thought, until she’d met Peter Tourne she’d always found Laurence Russell intimidating. He had an upright, military bearing that made her feel uneasy, and sometimes she sensed, when she looked up at him, that he’d been watching her. She had wondered several times whether his interest in her was purely professional. Now she was just relieved to hear him - a voice of normality and reason amongst confusion. Laurence Russell’s artistic empire couldn’t be further away from the events at KaRoche.

  As Alex spoke Peter Tourne lifted the hem of her dress. She shivered.

  ‘The only thing is that they were expecting me to be a man,’ she said.

  Laurence laughed dryly. ‘Really?’ he said. ‘Perhaps I ought to have warned Mr Tourne that you’re all woman. It hasn’t caused you any problems, has it?’

  Alex felt strong fingers seeking out the folds of her sex. How on earth could she answer Laurence’s question? ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘I think he’s quite pleased with me.’