The Marquis' Book of Pleasure & Property of the Marquis

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “I don’t even know you,” she said.

  “Did you know the others?” he asked.

  “No, I guess not. It’s just that…”

  “That what?”

  She refused to finish the sentence. But shook her head. “You’re right. I didn’t know any of the masters who used me; it seems one is as good as another when it comes to abusing my body to arouse my cunt.”

  He smiled, and she smiled back.

  What she couldn’t say was how different this experience had been from all the others, how different Alex had been from all the other strangers. She wondered if the difference she felt was real, or was her memory tricking her, and Alex was no more special than all those other strange and cruel men? Could there be something about the not-so-humble fisherman that gave her greater pleasure? Perhaps it was because he was the first—the first since Erik died. Perhaps.

  Nothing was clear to her as she rested inside his dominant aura. It was not a good idea to pass judgment too soon; the night was not yet over, and his use of her had just begun.

  Chapter Five

  The creaking boards in the upstairs rooms made her nervous. The bed creaked, too, and the loose shutters slapped against the side of the house with every gust of air. She lay stretched out against an old, blue striped mattress. Alex had thrown back the dusty coverlet, while the sheets had disappeared long before they got there. Lying on her stomach, her hungering body writhed still, unable to stop squirming in the heat of erotic agony—at the mercy of Alex Greenwood. Every breath of air that passed over her scorched skin brought back the sensuous pain and made her pussy seek its pleasure.

  Alex promised to deny her any further pleasure, and make her painfully suffer if she brought herself off without his assistance. So, she prayed for his hand, or better still his cock riding her pussy or stuffed deep inside her ass. She didn’t forget that he’d promised that, too.

  But when the fisherman returned to the room and his bound submissive, he had an entirely different plan in mind. He crawled in-between her spread legs, and after stuffing a pillow beneath her hips, his mouth moved into the steamy valley of her sex. His tongue laved the sweaty skin and Laney lurched, as a fierce spasm of physical joy rent her body.

  “Stop that, or I’ll stop!” Alex warned.

  “Oh, but that’s soooooooo,” she seethed quietly, clenching her fists and willing her body to be still as Alex tongue worked itself deeper, inching its way to her juicy hole and along the dangling clitoris that was now swollen and raw, and so sensitive that any touch… any touch at all…”God yes!” she started to vent.

  Alex mouth moved deeper still as he lifted her ass higher and spread her cleft wide open. But for all her desire to come, and come fast, Alex forced her to wait, withdrawing from her engorged clit just at her moment of crisis. His mouth moved back along her anal crack, to the tight rosette of her anus, and pushed his tongue into her sensitive opening.

  Shocked, she lurched forward again, which brought the man’s palm down firmly on her ass, resulting in a smarting sting.

  “You want me to go on?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. You can’t stop now.”

  “Oh, I sure can, and I will, if you don’t stop jumping around.”

  She quieted one more time so that Alex would continue, working his way back with more bites and sucks and probing from her asshole to her cunt, to her clit and the hole between her legs. A finger inserted in the desiring love hole found her g-spot fast, and this time, she lurched less violently, hissing as she buried her face in the mattress, “Yes, yes, yesssssssssssssss… Oh, please let me come…” before he could object.

  “Oh, you will,” he heard her and replied, then he went back to work.

  He fucked her cunt hole with his fingers, almost a fistful driving her into a frenzy; then he used the handle of his whip, thrusting the thing inside her, reminiscent of an erection. She wished it were his cock. She longed to feel the length of it gliding across her swollen bud and into the depths of her until he struck bottom.

  Although frantic to release, she held back, waiting for permission, panting, shackled fists pounding against the mattress. He pressed his face to her cunt one more time, lifting her ass until her back was stretched like a bow, and dove with his tongue beating at her inner flesh in a regular rhythm.

  He backed off only to say, “Come now!” Then he went back to work, feeling the woman’s body stiffen inside his hands, for maybe sixty seconds of utter bliss.

  She shuddered, her crotch writhing on the man’s mouth and then came—”Oh…my…god…” and immediately came a second time, with spasms surging through her entire body, which was more alive than at any time in the last six months. She opened her mouth for a silent scream, fists still clenched, her ass bobbing on air; then as the fisherman pulled away, Laney’s body fell limply against the mattress.

  Alex turned her over while she was still recovering, his eyes hot, almost raging as his body hovered over hers, naked now, muscled, tanned, a form that fed her lust. His fired up cock pressed against her crotch, throbbing as it slowly dragged up and down against her sweaty skin and he massaged the cunt he’d just brought off on his mouth.

  Gazing into his smoky eyes and his hardened face, she waited for the attack to begin. She expected him deep inside her, coming as she’d come, so she could come again, and remain on that delirious high. She waited, as if this was a man she belonged to and she could relish the moment for awhile; then she felt him lift his ass up and pause briefly. Instinctively she bent her legs, chains rattling, and opened them wide, feeling the head of his cock testing the waters by slowly, teasingly, jabbing at her pussy.

  She remained beneath him in another frantic torment, for minutes on end, waiting breathless for him to fall on her. Then with no warning at all, his body shifted downward into hers, and his cock head pierced her vaginal hole and slid into the velvety richness of her sex. With that first thrust, she bore down, her pussy squeezing and spasming around the thrusting cock. She came again, as if it were the first time that day.

  She cried, jerking against him savagely. Her hands still bound above her and useless for caressing, for a lovingly tease or a thankful touch.

  He was in and out of her too quickly, leaving her with his cock dripping cum down his thigh as he stood above her. She witnessed some compassion in his face, though not enough to draw him back inside the cocoon of her lust.

  “So fast… you moved so fast,” she breathed out despondently.

  “Isn’t that too bad, you coming slut.”

  Impulsively, he climbed back on the mattress, this time straddling her head and offering his cock to her parted, panting lips. She would have been happy with a kiss to end the night, but was satisfied with cleaning his thick erection, flagging now that it was spent.

  In the aftermath, she was left alone in the creaky room to recover on her own.

  The fisherman, Alex Greenwood, left her, the door closing loudly behind him.

  Before he disappeared he’d bound her ankle chain to the foot of the bed with rope, so that she lay helpless on the mattress inside the sweltering hot room.

  When she turned her head to the side, she could just barely see outside one of the tall bedroom windows that went nearly to the floor. She looked for the sea, maybe to get her bearings, or simply to remind her of where she was in the Marquis’ paradise. As she looked out, however, she caught sight of the fisherman, clothed again and walking briskly in the direction of his boat.

  “Alex!” she screamed, suddenly frightened half out of her wits. She knew he couldn’t hear her from that distance. She knew fighting against the bonds was useless, but she did that, too. “Alex! Alex, please come back!”

  When she fell back against the blue, striped mattress, she realized how alone she still was.

  He wouldn’t leave her…no! God please, bring him back… over and over the desperate refrain repeated until her exhaustion finally won out over her hysteria, and she slept.

  Chapter Sixr />
  “Hey there, girl, you can’t stay in bed all day. I gotta head out, get back to port.”

  Laney opened her eyes to a blistering sun, the smell of scrambled eggs—and was that bacon too? —and a sour taste in her dry mouth. Her body wiggled against the mattress, raw and sore, limbs aching. But she wasn’t bound anymore, and at some time during the night a pillow and sheet had appeared.

  She sat upright, pulling the sheet over her breasts self-consciously, and looked at the smiling fisherman with his tray of food.

  “Eat!” he said, thrusting breakfast toward her.

  “What time is it?”

  “About seven. I’m already late for my normal rounds. You have a half hour to eat and get dressed.”

  She looked around still trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes and get her bearings.

  “I suppose, there’s no shower here,” she groaned, having smelled the sweet sexy stench of her flesh.

  He laughed. “’fraid not. But your hotel won’t be far away. You can wash the night from you there.”

  Alex sat the tray in her lap and moved off. “I’ll see you in a half hour.” He nodded to her clothes, now folded neatly on a nearby chair with her backpack sitting beside it. He’d obviously been busy while she slept.

  “Thanks.” She watched him leave, too aghast to say anything else.

  Laney listened as Alex’s feet hit the stairs, and heard him walk across the hardwood floor in the living room below. She looked outside the window, where she’d seen him disappear the night before, and saw him again in her sights, striding cross the sand toward the grassy knoll and the boat beyond. Yes, he had come back for her. She recalled her earlier hysteria with some amusement. Of course, he hadn’t left her.

  Although her stomach was growling with hunger, and smelling the steamy food made her want to dive right in, she suddenly remembered the book, the Marquis’ book. This might be the only chance she’d have to swipe it from the bookshelf in the library. Forgetting the food and her hunger, she quickly scrambled into her clothes and darted down the stairs, quietly—in case Alex might have turned back. As she moved into the library, she breathed a sigh of relief, spotting the book right where she left it after briefly thumbing through the incendiary text. With just a twinge of guilty panic, she grabbed it from the shelf, and moved back through the library to the staircase, returning to the upstairs bedroom. Moments later, both the Marquis’ Book of Pleasure and the strange diary, which she hadn’t yet had a chance to read, were safely stuffed at the bottom of her backpack, zipped inside.

  The eggs tasted delicious to her now that her mission was safely accomplished. She ate quickly, while gazing out the window and seeing Alex returning to the house. The gods of the island had spoken, she smiled to herself. Obviously, they wanted her to have that tainted book and made it possible for her to steal it with little effort. Then again…there had been some effort in her night on Marquis Island. She’d given herself up to a stranger again. Although now, in the light of a new day, the crude sex she shared with the fisherman seemed little more than a dream, part of the shadows lurking at nightfall on this strange island, and the ghosts of those who’d been here before and left their imprint.

  She shook off the image, disturbed by its meaning. She’d think of it later, not now.

  Now it was time to leave.

  “I don’t have all day, Ms. Priestly!” Alex’s voice rang out from below.

  “Yes, yes, I’m coming,” she called to him, and she gathered her backpack and the tray with her half-eaten breakfast and swept down the stairs, smiling warmly.

  ***

  The fishing boat rocked along the waves, moving at a steady but not speedy clip back toward the harbor. Not a word had been said as they trekked down the beach to the boat, and they had barely spoken to each other since they boarded and set off.

  But there were things to say. Laney was sure that Alex Greenwood held the key to finding her ‘owner’, and she would not let the opportunity to discuss her still very pressing need pass her by.

  “You’ll be going out fishing after you drop me off at the dock?”

  “That’s my plan.”

  “It’s a business for you, I guess.”

  “It is. I love the water and the open air.”

  “I’ll be going back home for awhile,” Laney mused absently.

  He nodded, as he steered the boat, his squinting eyes looking toward the horizon over the calm blue water. He wore a faded red baseball cap that shaded his eyes from the blistering morning sun, and like her, the same clothes he’d worn the day before.

  “I’ll still continue my search for the Marquis,” she said.

  “Didn’t learn much for your time and money, did you?”

  “Oh, I disagree,” she objected. “Last night I learned a lot about you.”

  “Really?”

  “You are very guarded about yourself, Alex Greenwood, but I’m guessing that you’re in the Marquis’ circle, whether you want to admit it to me or not.”

  “And why would you assume that?” He turned toward her.

  She laughed. “As if last night didn’t happen.”

  He laughed, too. “Don’t assume too much, Ms. Priestly. I’ve had my moments on that island, but they have nothing to do with secret inner circles of sex addicts, and some mysterious Marquis who lives god knows where.”

  “Really? And why would I believe you?”

  “You can believe anything you want. Truth is, the island is a pretty good place to take a girlfriend for a romantic adventure. It’s come in handy from time to time, which is why I know about its oddities. I’ve rummaged through the cupboards and cabinets; I’ve combed the cellar; I found all those implements of sexual torture you seem to love so much.”

  “Love them?” she tried looking shocked.

  “Oh, c’mon, Laney, I don’t know what else you’d call your performance last night.”

  Performance. Was that what it was to him?

  The sexual mayhem of the previous night was hard to think of now; a subject Laney preferred not to talk about with it still so fresh in her mind. She may have briefly forgotten the details when she awakened in the morning, but since she’d been on the boat, the incident returned to her thoughts in graphic detail, dispelling any suggestion that it hadn’t taken place. But a performance? She would never call her submission and the uproarious sexual release she enjoyed a performance; it was real and wonderful, far beyond expectations or hopes, and intimately personal enough to blush about, now that the subject had finally been broached.

  “I may have displayed myself in an unusually candid manner, but you can be sure that I could never think of last night as a performance. Yes, there is a masochistic side to my nature, that’s obvious, and you seemed very capable of using it for your own pleasure.”

  “That I did.”

  “I guess it shows what an easy target I am for strange men.”

  “I’m still a stranger to you?”

  “You’re stranger to me now than when I thought of you as just a fisherman.”

  “Well, I’d suggest that you keep thinking of me as just a fisherman. There’s not a whole lot more to me than that. Although I am smart enough to see that you’re not a typical female in any way. I hope you find the man you’re looking for.”

  “And, I hope you can tell me where I can find him.”

  “I told you before, the guy that pays me is nothing but a Post Office address in Paris.”

  “You know nothing else?”

  He pretended to search his thoughts for an answer, but shook his head. “Not unless you want to check out every bookstore in the city of Paris.”

  “A bookstore in Paris, really?”

  “Yeah. It’s not much to go on, but the man who called me, the same guy who hired me to look after the island, told me that a Paris bookstore would be in charge of packing up the books in the library and shipping them back to Paris. That was over a year ago and I’ve heard nothing about it since. It’s my guess that no o
ne really cares about the stuff anymore.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you know?”

  “That’s it. Wish I could help you more.”

  Laney grew thoughtfully silent, feeling sure that Alex was keeping something from her, but she had no evidence of that fact, just her gut instincts, which couldn’t help but speculate about the man.

  By the time she awakened from her reverie, the port was in their sights, and she watched as Alex steered the boat into the dock. On disembarking, Laney lifted her backpack to her shoulder, feeling content that she had the two books safely stored there. She’d be searching them carefully for clues about the Marquis that were not forthcoming from her guide.

  Just before she walked off, Laney handed Alex her business card. “You will let me know if you should stumble on any information about our mysterious Marquis?”

  “I’ll do that, Ms. Priestly,” he said smiling, but then his brows narrowed on her, “But you know, if I were in your position, I’d have that thing cut off and go about finding the guy of your dreams who will use you the way you want.”

  “You think I should give up my search?”

  “Just seems to me if this Marquis wanted to contact you, he would have by now.”

  “You might be right,” she conceded. “But I’m not the kind of woman who can let something like this slide.”

  “Well, you just watch yourself.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  He shrugged, “Maybe.” He took her business card and stuffed it in the pocket of his shorts. Laney assumed that was the last he’d see of it.

  Missing from their parting was any hint of the physical intimacy they shared. Alex was the darnedest one night stand Laney had ever had and certainly the best. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he was just a horny guy with enough savvy to take advantage of a half-mad widow and her crazy obsession with an island that would not easily give up its secrets. Maybe he was right, that she should watch herself and forget her pursuit of the Marquis, however, that was advice she’d likely ignore.