by Sarah Fisher
Starn snorted and refilled his wine glass.
Simon Bay looked across at him through slightly blurred eyes. ‘You have something to say, Mr Fettico?’
Starn leered drunkenly. ‘If it were me,’ he waved a finger unsteadily in the air, ‘I’d punish her for being so bloody clumsy, not let your trained tigers lose on her. She’s bloody enjoying herself. She should be whipped!’
Simon Bay nodded. ‘Patience, Mr Fettico, patience.’
As the men spoke Alex felt a flash of pleasure lighting in her belly. The black women knew exactly where to touch her. A long tongue slithered over the engorged ridge of her clitoris, caressing the silver ring on its journey through her labia, while strong hands glided up over her thighs. Simon Bay would have had no worries now; Alex could already feel the wetness forming deep inside her. The two women encouraged her to let them take her weight. She leant further and further back against the giantess behind, opening her legs so that the woman crouched between her legs could have greater freedom to kiss and caress her. Long fingers pressed deep inside, exploring the moistening contours with surprising tenderness.
Alex felt the tension in her spine begin to fade. The instant she began to relax her unlikely seducers seemed to sense the change. The woman behind grabbed her ribs. The woman at her feet grabbed her thighs, and they unceremoniously picked her up and threw her face down onto the table amongst the remnants of the dinner.
Alex shrieked. A strong pair of hands grabbed at her legs and jerked the beautiful evening dress up around her waist. Alex began to struggle, but she hadn’t bargained on the tenacity and strength of Simon Bay’s two black slaves.
One of them mounted the table with feline agility, held Alex’s arms before she had time to respond, and pinned her down against the wine soaked cloth. To Alex’s utter horror she could feel the seeds of arousal that had formed in her sex now glowing white hot - screaming for release. She swooned under the treatment of the two women.
She heard Simon Bay laugh arrogantly. ‘Perhaps this is more to your taste, Mr Fettico?’
A few moments later something hissed through the air and a lightening strike exploded across her naked buttocks. Alex screamed in astonishment. The woman tightened the grip on her shoulders, and Alex realised that in a strange way that touch was meant to reassure. An instant later the whip struck again. This time the blow was harder. The sensation was so intense that every cell in her body seemed to register it; the sensation swept through her like a volcanic blast, driving away every thought, every shred of consciousness that could not be registered as feeling.
Blow after blow detonated across her naked back and buttocks until she couldn’t tell where one stroke ended and another began. She thought she might lose consciousness, her mind driven into a corner by the pain, and worse still, the terrifying knowledge that the same pain and feeling of humiliation fed the dark creature Peter Tourne had created in her.
Suddenly the hands on her shoulders rolled her over onto her back. They manoeuvred her effortlessly until her sore bottom was perched on the edge of the table and her legs dangled towards the floor. She closed her eyes, unable to face the gaze of the assembled diners and their slaves.
All she could hear was the ragged sounds of her own breath, and then she smelt something that made her gasp. She knew immediately what it was, and then she felt the brush of warm flesh against her cheek and lips. Someone was straddling her shoulders. She opened her eyes and saw the gaping quim of one of the slaves. The musky smell of the woman’s sex was almost overwhelming. Before Alex had time to protest or resist a hand lifted her head up towards the folds of dark wet flesh.
Alex trembled as she breathed in the unmistakable scent. Her body seemed to be covered in a blanket of the female perfume; the odour flooded her every sense. To her horror her mouth began to water. In the instant before Alex pressed a tentative kiss to the woman’s body, another tongue opened her own quim and slid effortlessly over the swollen bud of her clitoris.
Alex mewled, the noise buffeted and echoed against the closeness of the woman crouched above her.
Peter Tourne was absorbed by the tableau being enacted in front of him. The two amazons looked as if they were eating Alex alive. They crouched hungrily over her prone body, both facing her feet. The one whom Alex was tonguing had her finger’s buried deep in her companion’s sopping sex, who was in turn lapping enthusiastically at Alex’s unprotected quim. Beneath them their victim was gasping and twisting wildly from side to side, her whole body and mind caught up in the intensity of the moment.
Simon Bay, standing now between Alex’s open legs, looked on in triumph. The English girl’s cries were getting more and more instinctive as pleasure and passion unseated pain and reason. He dropped the riding crop he’d used on her, opened his trousers, and unceremoniously drove his cock into her dripping sex. Alex arched herself to take him, while his slave’s long pink tongue lapped at his shaft as it slid home.
On the far side of the table Starn Fettico grinned slyly. Moving closer, ignoring both his slave girls, he too unfastened his trousers. His cock jutted forward like a scimitar. As the coloured girl squatting over Alex’s face moved, her quim opened and closed like a gaping scarlet mouth. Starn gripped her broad hips and pulled her a little closer. Climbing onto the table he guided his shaft into the hot wet depths of her body, his hands sliding along her sweating torso to cup her pendulous breasts.
Peter Tourne saw Alex hesitate for a moment as the coloured girl above her wriggled back a fraction to allow Starn Fettico to drive deeper. He imagined the thoughts and sensations going through her mind as she felt the contours of Starn’s knarled cock sliding over her tongue, the brush of his balls against her forehead and closed eyes, and the smell of his body; he could imagine it all.
Alex suddenly let out a long guttural screech of pleasure, and her whole body stiffened and convulsed as the first waves of orgasm ripped through her. As she began to writhe those around her were caught up in its wake. Like a house of cards the lovers began to quake and fall way - all sated, all pleasured.
Peter Tourne smiled, topped up his brandy balloon, and settled himself back in his chair; Alex Sanderson had surpassed anything he could have expected of her. He was certain that Simon Bay would feel the same way.
When she emerged from between the coloured woman’s thighs, Alex’s face was flushed, her lips slick with the juices of the dark beauty, her sex pink and moist from the attentions of the other slave and Simon Bay’s orgasm. She blushed furiously as she realised Peter Tourne had been watching her. He extended his hand and she took it without a word. He pulled her close and kissed her, relishing the taste on her lips. She looked around nervously as the others began to tidy themselves.
‘Can I go to the bathroom?’ she whispered, her colour intensifying as she spoke.
He nodded. ‘Don’t be long,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll be waiting for you.’
When she’d gone he went over to the ice bucket and poured three glasses of champagne - after all, he had something to celebrate.
Chapter 9
Alex hurried from the dining room, still trembling from the events that had taken place under the cool eyes of Peter Tourne. She was certain she’d passed the test that he’d set her. Her whole body hummed from the intensity of her orgasm. She glanced left and right, struggling to regain her composure and get her bearings. There was a cloakroom in the main hallway. She scurried downstairs - a trickle of semen already running onto her thighs.
As she passed Peter Tourne’s office she realised that the door was open - and in the lamplight she saw the phone on his desk. An idea took shape in an instant, and before she really had time to consider any possible consequences she hurried inside, picked up the receiver and tapped in a London number.
To her immense relief Laurence Russell picked up the phone on the second ring. She sighed and thanked God that her agent was a
famous workaholic who seldom left his office before midnight. Glancing anxiously over her shoulder she whispered, ‘Hello?’
Laurence coughed. ‘Hello? Who’s that? Is that you Alex? Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried about you.’
Alex felt a lump form in her throat at the sound of his familiar voice.’Laurence,’ she said unsteadily. ‘Please listen to me. I haven’t got the time to explain. You have to come and get me. I’m still at the villa KaRoche.’
‘What’s the matter? Can you speak up? I can barely hear you, Alex. Is there a problem at the villa? You sound different.’
Alex looked up, catching sight of her reflection in the enormous picture window that overlooked the sea. Her skin was glowing her eyes alight with the after-effects of pleasure. The lamp on the desk reflected in the chain that linked her nipples - She most certainly was different.
‘I can’t talk to you now,’ she whispered hurriedly. Where would she begin even if she had the time to explain? ‘Please, Laurence, just come and get me. Something has happened.’
‘All right,’ comforted Laurence. ‘But I - ’
Alex jumped and squealed as a pair of hands grabbed the receiver from her fingers and slammed it back into the cradle. She spun round, her expression taut with fear. Mario leered at her.
‘Who do you ring?’ he snapped, gesticulating towards the phone.
Alex felt her colour drain. ‘No one,’ she said, backing away from the desk. ‘I couldn’t get through, that was... that was... the operator.’ Alex cringed at her own feeble answer.
Mario’s face contorted into a sickening grin. ‘I tell Mr Tourne,’ he said flatly.
‘No!’ snapped Alex, holding her hands up to keep a distance between them. ‘Please don’t, Mario. I’ll do anything you want - anything. Please - just don’t tell Mr Tourne.’
Mario looked her up and down. His fingers snaked forward to cup her sex. He snorted, rubbing the fabric of her dress up into her quim. ‘You’re very wet - how you say, very horny.’ He sniggered. ‘They all fuck you, already? You save a little for later. I and the boy - we want our share.’
Alex reddened as the driver pulled his hand away and sniffed his fingers.
‘What’s going on in here?’ Peter Tourne’s voice from out in the hall made Alex jump again. Mario grinned at her, and then turned to face his employer.
‘I catch her here,’ he said nodding towards the phone. ‘She going to ring someone.’
Tourne stared past him at Alex. ‘Is this true?’ His expression was stony.
Alex knew that Mario had already lied for her and that she was now beholden to the brutal driver.
‘Well?’ snapped Tourne. ‘It is true, Alex?’
Looking down, Alex struggled to conceal her guilt, and nodded miserably.
‘Yes,’ she mumbled. She could sense his displeasure. When she finally looked at him she realised he was more disappointed than angry.
‘How could you defy me, Alex? I instruct you. I show you your true nature. I invite one of the world’s most respected masters to come and examine you,’ he stopped and shook his head. ‘And yet you still try to escape?’
‘Oh, Mr Tourne,’ Alex said softly. The tears that had threatened earlier when she’d spoken to Laurence Russell trickled down her face. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.’ She paused. ‘I’m afraid of what you make me feel.’ It was true. She was afraid of losing herself in the maelstrom of emotions that Peter Tourne had shown her; afraid that in submitting to her darkest instincts she would lose everything.
Peter Tourne sighed and touched her face. ‘Afraid? Oh Alex, what is there to be afraid of? Haven’t I told you this is a game - a complex charade that feeds the pleasures of those who lead and those who follow.’ He paused. ‘Trust me, Alex. Let go and relish the pleasure.’
Alex pouted. ‘But you’re going to sell me. That’s why Mr Bay is here tonight, isn’t it?’
He nodded. ‘That is true. Another games master, another game.’
‘But I don’t want to be a slave.’
He smiled wryly. ‘Are you so certain of that?’
She felt a flicker of panic. ‘But what if - ?’
‘When you tire of the game all you have to do is walk away. But I don’t think you will; you like what I’ve shown you too much. Something you have to understand is that I’m your master because we have an unspoken agreement that allows me to dominate you. To teach you. To show you all that can be shared. You just have to trust me, Alex.’
She stared at him, trying to grasp what he was saying, but sensing that he was right. Didn’t her whole body glow whenever she obeyed him? Hadn’t the greatest moments of sexual satisfaction she’d ever experienced come when she gave up her whole mind and body into the hands of this man? Didn’t she relish the fact that he took what he wanted from her without question?
Tourne stroked her hair with surprising affection. ‘Simon is prepared to sell you at his auction. He’s invited us to his villa for a party tomorrow.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘At the end of the week I’ll hand you over to him. You have a day, perhaps two, to finish the mural.’
Alex felt sick. ‘Another games master?’ she whispered.
He nodded, indicating the phone on his desk. ‘Or if you prefer you can walk away now. The choice is yours.’
Alex struggled to make sense of the tumult of feelings that bubbled inside her.
Mario, still standing at his employer’s shoulder, leered at her. Voices from outside the office broke the tension, and Tourne turned away to greet Simon Bay and his entourage.
The guest of honour again looked Alex up and down before he spoke, though his remarks were directed towards his host.
‘I wondered where you’d got to, my friend. Your houseboy is ready to serve more coffee and liqueurs, and your friend Starn is anxious to show off his latest toys.’
Tourne nodded. ‘I’ll be there in a second or two Simon.’
Simon Bay’s eyes hadn’t left Alex. ‘Trouble?’ he asked.
Tourne shook his head. ‘Not really, is there, Alex?’
She had to make a decision. Swallowing hard, she shook her head. ‘No,’ she stammered. ‘There’s no trouble.’
Simon Bay slapped his friend on the back. ‘Oh come on, Peter. Why don’t you let me take her with me tonight? It’d solve everything. Let me have her for a day or two extra.’
Tourne held out a hand to guide his illustrious guest back upstairs. ‘No, thank you, Simon. It’s a very generous offer, but she has to finish the mural first.’
As they left he turned back to look at Alex. ‘When you’ve been to the bathroom come back upstairs and join us. Don’t be long.’
Alex nodded. Mario grinned. She knew that the sophisticated game of passion Peter Tourne had taught her was lost on Mario - and she now owed him.
She hurried to the downstairs bathroom and turned the taps on full. Splashing her face with cold water helped restore a sense of balance. When she returned to the dining room Starn’s latest acquisitions were staging a lesbian exhibition. Despite their writhing and moans Simon Bay looked thoroughly bored. The beautiful little Asian girls were self-conscious and ill at ease as they went through the stilted routine Starn had obviously taught them. Despite their beautiful bodies and sinuous curves, it was far from stimulating.
Alex took her place at Tourne’s feet and rested her head in his lap while the girls stroked and whispered their way through a mockery of true eroticism. Starn however was delighted, and had no hesitation in joining them, making love to one while tonguing another. Finally, breathlessly, at the point of orgasm he sunk his teeth into one of them. For the first time Alex felt the shriek of pain that followed was close to the reality of sensations that Peter Tourne had so cunningly taught her.
Her eyes felt heavy, and she was surprised when the next thing she saw with any clarity was his face not more than an inch or two away from hers.
‘They’ve all gone home,’ he whispered. ‘It’s time you were in bed.’
With a yawn she uncurled and stretched her knotted limbs. She rubbed her eyes and looked around for Mario. He was nowhere to be seen. No doubt he was lurking somewhere outside, waiting to extract the price for his silence once they had reached her cell. To her surprise Peter Tourne extended his hand and helped her to rise.
‘Come with me,’ he said softly.
Tenderness was the last thing Alex expected.
Silently he led her into a part of the villa she’d never seen before. At the top of what seemed like an endless flight of stone stairs, double doors opened onto an enormous vaulted chamber. The room was lit by candlelight and appeared to have been carved out of the hillside the centre of the room was dominated by a huge bed. He turned to her as they stepped inside.
‘Until you leave here you are my slave, and mine alone.’
Alex nodded and followed him into a marble lined bathroom. Set in the floor was a bath already filled with steamy aromatic water. With trembling hands Alex set about undressing the man who had initiated her into the dark game. As her fingers struggled with his clothes she realised that in all the time she had spent at KaRoche she had never seen him naked. The thought made her stomach flutter with anticipation. She wondered if there was some way she could convince him that she ought to stay with him at the villa. She could be everything he wanted.
Every touch was an act of worship - she unbuttoned his shirt, slipped off his jacket, undid his dress tie, all the time aware that he was watching her. As she pushed his shirt back off his broad shoulders she pressed a kiss to his dark hair trimmed nipples, her tongue paying homage to him, like a supplicant at an ancient altar. She knelt down to unfasten his trousers, eyes chastely lowered to the floor.
