Captivation

by Sarah Fisher

  Tonight she was Peter Tourne’s handmaiden, his body slave, and every cell of her mind and body relished her submission. His cock was magnificent; broad and curved it sprung into her fingers like a sword. She ran her tongue along it, pausing to kiss the engorged scarlet crown. He moaned softly, stroking her hair as she lapped and caressed his shaft. Lifting her hands to cradle his balls she drew him deep into her mouth. She felt the tension growing in his body, and smiled.

  ‘No, not yet,’ he said in a husky whisper. ‘I want you to bathe me.’

  Denied her prize, Alex nodded and moved aside, reluctantly letting go of him.

  His body was quite beautiful; slim and muscular, his skin had a soft golden glow to it that made her mouth water. There was nothing she wanted more than to service him, to feel him deep inside her, to give him whatever pleasure he demanded. She trembled, ripples of desire forming and reforming in her belly.

  He smiled at her and stepped down into the water. Alex slipped off her evening dress and hurried to join him. With gentle hands she soaped every inch of his glorious body; every touch, every single gesture confirming his status as her lord. He closed his eyes and lay back in the warm water. Alex felt almost overwhelmed by her tenderness towards him. The feelings were so intense she thought she might cry.

  When they were done, he allowed her to wrap him in a thick towelling gown and pour him a glass of wine from the tray arranged on the sideboard in the bedroom. Alex noticed that beside the tray was a finely tooled leather strap with a split end. She bit her lip, momentarily touching the cool leather before carrying the wine to him, eyes humbly downcast.

  Naked and still wet from the bath she curled at his feet, awaiting his instructions. Tourne set the glass down on the arm of his chair.

  ‘You’ve forgotten something,’ he said.

  Alex shivered; she knew what he meant. Struggling to control her racing thoughts she rose and brought him the leather strap. He took it from her and ran it thoughtfully between his fingers, his eyes working up and down her naked body. She felt the anticipation in her belly growing under his undisguised examination. Her body was already crisscrossed with the weals from the beating given by Simon Bay - but what filled her mind was not the painful marks, but the ever growing sense of expectation. She tensed as he got to his feet and swung the strap back.

  ‘Come here,’ he ordered, indicating the rug in front of him. She stepped closer. ‘Put your hands on top of your head.’

  She did as he said - and closed her eyes.

  The first blow hit squarely across the tensed peaks of her breasts. She shrieked, astonished that he could still be so cruel. The second blow hit her across the belly, lifting a broad red plain of tender flesh. The pain from the strap was different from the whip; the sensation was more diffused, dissipating through her like molten magma. The third stroke caught her sex, exploding across the ring that pierced her labia.

  Her mind flared - hadn’t she already proved she was his slave? Hadn’t she already given herself to him completely? Why did he still have to punish her? The answer was as obvious as the question; it was all part of the game. She was his to do with as he pleased, and if she wanted to partake in the pleasure of submission she must never forget that truth.

  The fourth and fifth strokes hit her low on the buttocks, making her gasp.

  ‘Open your eyes,’ Tourne said.

  Alex stared up at him. His eyes flashed with desire and pent-up emotion. He threw the strap to the floor, crossed the room, and lay on the bed. She hesitated, wondering what he wanted next. He glared up at her.

  ‘Come over here and give yourself to me, Alex. Show me what a good slave you have become. Show me that you understand the rules of the game.’

  She swallowed hard. In some ways, after the beating, she knew this would be the ultimate test; to come willingly to her tormentor, and to surrender unquestioningly to his desire. She walked towards him as gracefully as her trepidation would allow; aware that with every step she was getting closer and closer to losing herself forever in his passion. His eyes remained dark and devoid of emotion.

  Slowly she climbed onto the bed and straddled his calves, touching herself as she did. She could feeling the moisture forming in the innermost recesses of her sex.

  Tourne glanced down at her fingers. ‘Are you wet?’

  Alex nodded.

  He smiled. ‘Good. Now show me what you’ve learnt. Give me the undivided devotion and pleasure I deserve.’

  Trembling, Alex crouched over him, crawling up over his warm muscular body, fluttering kisses over every inch of his frame. Her tongue lapped at his balls, caressing and stroking the intimidating curve of his shaft. Her lips closed around its head. She ran her tongue around its edge, then across to kiss the single moist eye. Whatever else happened to her, Peter Tourne was her first master and every thought that formed in her head was concentrated on giving him pleasure.

  Eagerly she drew him deeper, sucking and lapping, willing his approval. When she sensed he was ready she moved over him, replacing lips and tongue with her hands as she lifted herself up to guide him into her. As his cock parted her delicate inner lips, as she felt the sheer strength of his need, their eyes met. He looked into her mind. His gaze was suffused with tenderness.

  Without hesitation she impaled herself on him, drawing him deep into her throbbing quim. For the first time she saw a look of pure uncomplicated joy on Peter Tourne’s face. She began to move up and down, giving herself to him entirely, her feverish grinding taking them both to the edges of madness. He groaned. Unable to hold back any longer he thrust into her. His face contorted and his movements became wild and instinctive. Alex cried out, feeling the rush of an ancient passion that exploded inside her mind and her body, as they fell into the abyss of orgasm. Down and down they both tumbled, twisting and turning, gasping for breath, until finally it was over and they were still.

  Peter Tourne pulled her close to him, his lips brushing her forehead. She sighed - exhausted and completely spent. She was pleased with herself. She curled up under his arm and slipped effortlessly into comfortable sleep.

  The next day was the strangest Alex had spent at the villa KaRoche - strange because of its normality. She woke up still beside Peter in his bed, got dressed in her own clothes which were brought to her by the housekeeper, and then after a breakfast they shared on the terrace she went to work on the mural. Peter spent the morning with her, sitting in a garden chair and reading. He even joined her makeshift picnic lunch.

  He was a wonderful companion. For once he was more lover than master, but even so Alex could still feel the subtle strength of his power as they chatted and laughed. He was still her master despite appearances, of that she had little doubt. Finally, as the long hot afternoon began, he dismissed her.

  ‘Go back to the guest cabin and rest,’ he said softly. ‘Tonight, at Simon’s party, another phase of your education begins.’

  Back in the guest cabin Alex stared at her possessions. Everything was exactly as she’d left it. It seemed so long since she’d unpacked her clothes and arranged her toiletries in the bathroom. She glanced up at the open door, imagining that Gena would appear at any second. She stared sadly at the void - was Peter letting her have one day of freedom before handed her over to Simon Bay? He’d told her it would be at the end of the week, but the way he now looked at her and the gentleness with which he was treating her made her suspect that he might have changed his mind.

  Outside in the raw heat of the day the cicadas were buzzing. The fragrances of the exotic flowers wafted on the warm breeze from the garden into her room. She slipped off her clothes, lay down on the bed, and closed her eyes she was intoxicated by the heat and the strange sense of expectation.

  She wished there was some way that she could persuade Peter to let her stay. She couldn’t imagine anything she wanted more than to be with him Pulling a she
et up over her shoulders she felt the ache of the bruises on her back - that only served to feed her hunger.

  Chapter 10

  As soon as Alex awoke she was aware that someone else was in the cabin. She opened her eyes and was astonished to see Peter gazing down at her. Aware of her nakedness she instinctively tried to cover herself. He smiled.

  ‘How enchanting. I shall miss you very much, Alex.’

  She stared up at him. A wave of grief fluttered through her. ‘Can’t I stay here with you?’ she pleaded. ‘Please, I’ll do anything you want, just let me stay.’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I’m afraid that’s impossible. I have always seen my role as a teacher; a mentor. Here, I want you to wear this for the coming evening.’ He handed her a large flat dress box he was carrying.

  Alex crept across the bed and undid the ribbon. Inside the box was a long copper coloured dress. She held it up. It looked like something from a medieval painting, with a richly embroidered buttoned yoke and long thin sleeves. The bodice had a low square neckline, below which the body of the dress hung in soft folds. She ran a finger over the silk. It must have cost a fortune, and was very much like a gown she’d painted on one of the figures in the mural. It was a fairytale costume, and certainly unlike anything she had expected.

  Peter Tourne nodded towards the box. ‘At Simon’s party there will be every extreme pleasure you can imagine on offer. His girls and the girls of his guests will be dressed as slaves - in leather, in furs, naked. Only you will be presented as you truly are - a mythical princess amongst slaves. Isn’t that what you painted for me in the gallery?’

  Alex swallowed hard. ‘It’s beautiful. Are you leaving me with Mr Bay tonight?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not tonight - but very soon. Now get ready. Would you like me to send my housekeeper to help you dress?’

  She shook her head; she needed to be alone.

  Later that evening Peter Tourne’s limousine purred along the hilltop roads. Alex stared out into the fading light at the rocky landscape and the sea far below. How easy it was to forget that there was another life outside the villa KaRoche. Sitting beside her in the back seat her current master seemed preoccupied. Before they’d left he’d snapped a fine chain leash onto her collar; a sharp reminder, even a mythical princess could be tamed by the right man.

  Alex couldn’t take her eyes off the scenery. Olive groves and tiny white houses clung to the steep hillsides. Here and there groups of men meandered along the roads on the way to their local taverna. All these things had eluded Alex until now; she hadn’t stepped outside the walls of the villa KaRoche since her arrival. It seemed impossible that life continued normally outside her prison.

  Down and down the car went, swinging left and right along the steep roads, until finally below them Alex could see a string of bright silvery lights twinkling through the encroaching darkness. She knew without being told that this was their destination: Simon Bay’s luxury seaside villa.

  ‘Ah, at last, Peter. I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind about coming tonight,’ Simon Bay welcomed his friend as they made their way up onto the enormous terrace that skirted the villa. Between the palms and neatly clipped hedges music was carried towards them on a soft breeze that blew up from the gently rolling sea.

  Alex glanced around. She had never seen such a beautiful house or such a breathtaking setting.

  ‘I should have known you’d arrive fashionably late, even when pleasure is available in abundance. I see you’ve brought your little protégé. Good, several of my regular customers are here this evening. Come in, come in, everyone else is here already.’

  As Simon Bay guided them towards the main party Alex’s attention was drawn to the other guests nearby. On the terrace an Arab Prince in long flowing robes sat on a chaise longue. A double ended chain rested in his long fluid fingers, securing two blonde girls at his feet. They were naked except for tiny loin cloths. Behind them, Starn Fettico stood with his two new Asian girls - they too were naked. By the double doors into the main villa a plump well-heeled woman in a sparkling evening dress was being served by a subservient teenage boy clad only in sandals and a mask. As the boy moved Alex could see that his foreskin had been pierced, and a single diamond drop hung from the sensitive skin; it matched those hanging from the woman’s ears.

  Simon Bay led them through the doors, chattering to Tourne the whole time. Alex was stunned by the number of people in the main reception room there seemed to be a mass of bodies. Some were dressed in opulent splendour, while their slaves were dressed in every erotic and exciting variation of clothing the imagination could create; some in leather, some in harness, some naked except for a bauble or chain. Most of the slaves were masked; rendered anonymous so that only their bodies and their obedience remained on show.

  Simon Bay directed his friend towards a small group of people standing by the stairs. Alex found it difficult to concentrate on what was being said as the group exchanged the social pleasantries. The room around them was full of guests and slaves of every hue, shape and nationality. She had no idea that Peter’s game had so many players.

  A discreet tug on the leash from him brought her attention back to the small group who surrounded them. The Arab she’d seen earlier on the terrace had joined this inner circle. His two girls crouched at his feet.

  ‘And so this is your latest find, Peter?’ purred a statuesque blonde holding a champagne cocktail in one elegant hand and a cigarette with a vivid smudge of bright red lipstick on the filter in the other. Her accent betrayed a soft, cultured American burr. Her clothing, a sleek black evening dress, discreetly whispered wealth. ‘We’ve been hearing so much about her.’ She pouted her red lips suggestively towards Alex.

  Tourne nodded. ‘That’s right, Monique. She’s an artist.’

  The woman laughed and proudly swelled her generous bosom towards the beautiful topic of conversation. ‘An artist is of no use to me whatsoever, my dear. And why is she dressed like that? What is it you’re hiding?’ ‘I’m hiding nothing I can assure you. It’s just that I’m growing a little tired of naked flesh.’ Tourne replied as he sipped at the drink Simon Bay had given him.

  Monique dismissed this comment with a derisory wave of the hand that sent silvery cigarette smoke curling up towards the high ceiling, and then she nodded towards Alex. ‘May I?’ The request was directed towards Tourne.

  He nodded politely. ‘Of course, be my guest.’

  The woman gave her drink and the cigarette to a nearby waiter, and casually unbuttoned the bodice of Alex’s dress. She slipped a hand inside in a manner that told Alex she was a woman who was used to getting exactly what she wanted. Alex felt her colour rise. The woman squeezed her breasts as though they were ripe fruit. A long fingernail traced the rings that pierced her nipples and the little chain that linked them.

  ‘Very nice,’ she breathed and ran her tongue over her full lips. ‘Very nice.’ She glanced back at Tourne. ‘Not growing tired of marking your conquests then?’

  He shrugged. ‘Just a trade mark, my dear.’

  Alexs’ humiliation and colour intensified as the woman rolled her nipples speculatively between her fingertips. In seconds they hardened into tight peaks. In spite of the shame Alex felt a lovely ripple of desire that unnerved her.

  The American woman continued. ‘She’s quite lovely, and very responsive, but really far too fragile for my tastes. I like them coarser. Bigger tits, bigger bones. Something with a bit more meat on it. It’s a pity, I’m in the market for another girl. This one might break if you played too rough.’ Her last comment brought a flurry of polite laughter from the other guests.

  As her hands dropped away Alex felt exposed and vulnerable. The open bodice of her dress framed her breasts, her tight pink nipples, and the little rings and chain that glittered as she trembled under the group’s undisguised examination. Monique waved a hand to
wards her. Alex knew what the American wanted, and slowly began to inch her skirt up over her legs. Her hands shook as the silky material brushed her thighs, exposing the naked contours of her sex.

  The Arab lifted an eyebrow thoughtfully, and then indicated that he wanted her to lift the dress even higher. Alex silently did as she was told.

  The Arab nodded his appreciation. ‘Very good. She is almost boyish. I have a cousin, Ahmed, who might like her.’ He smiled evilly and ran a hand over her creamy flank. ‘Soft skin too. Ahmed has a liking for boys. Perhaps I might put a bid in for her - I could buy her as a present for him.’

  Alex shuddered, her strongest urge was to turn and run. As the thought passed through her mind she felt the leash tighten and glanced at Peter. His expression revealed nothing.

  The prince turned one of the heavy rings on his long fingers. ‘I presume we may sample the goods before we make a serious offer?’

  Simon Bay nodded. ‘Of course, my dear Mustafa. I may not have trained her myself, but our normal house rules apply. Would you like me to have one of the servants take her to your room now?’

  Monique stepped forward holding a fresh champagne cocktail and cigarette. ‘Whoa, hang on just one minute! If anyone should be trying her out it should be me! I was here first, remember? I really can’t believe you men sometimes!’ She looked at Tourne. ‘I didn’t say I wasn’t interested, Peter, just that she wasn’t to my usual taste.’ She smiled as though contemplating disgustingly naughty thoughts, and her eyes returned to Alex’s exposed body. ‘Mind you, they do say a change is as good as a rest... now don’t they?’ She pouted sexily and ran a cool hand down Alex’s flat stomach to the soft folds of her quim. Alex shivered.

  The brash American grinned. ‘Sensitive... I like that.’ Her fingers slid provocatively into the crevice between Alex’s outer lips. Her fingertip brushed the long ridge of Alex’s clitoris, and before she could stop herself, Alex let out a soft moan. The American smiled knowingly, and then pressed her finger deeper still.