The Captive Flesh

by Cleo Cordell

  Kasim bent swiftly and placed his mouth on her sex. His lips worked as he tasted her. Leyla moaned at the unexpected tenderness of his touch. But before she could draw pleasure from the contact, he drew away and began to place light strokes of the whip on the pouting sex. Again he spread the flesh-lips and now the switch went to work on the tender exposed flesh.

  Marietta wanted to cry out for him to stop, but equally she wanted him to continue. She did not want to be here. She wanted to be Leyla. There . . . she had admitted it. The shaming heat flooded her cheeks, as her sex swelled and grew damp.

  'Ah,' Kasim breathed, absorbed in the sensuality of the punishment.' See how the pink flesh glistens. How swollen it is. How strongly erect the little kernel of delight is. It is well developed in you, is it not, my Leyla? What a hungry little bud it is, thrusting out for the caress of fingers and tongue. It is like a tiny cock, a salted nipple. And always thirsty for its punishment. How it throbs and stings when I beat it thus. And thus. Does it burn Leyla? Does it throb? Do you long to be beaten harder?'

  For a while longer he gave his attention to caressing the parted sex with firm strokes of the switch. Leyla writhed under his ministrations. Her moans were muffled by the long hair stranding across her face. In a swift movement Kasim turned the switch, handle uppermost. The handle was thick, ridged with leather bands. He delved into Leyla, working the handle in and out of her entrance until it was shiny with her juices. Leyla's legs trembled so much that they seemed on the verge of collapse.

  'Hold her. Support her under her hips,' Kasim ordered, his breath coming fast.

  Marietta and Claudine reached out and did as he asked. Leyla's buttocks were hot against Marietta's shaking fingers, the luscious flesh trembled. Kasim withdrew the handle and began lashing the parted sex again, increasing the strength of the strokes with careful control, until the tender flesh was red and swollen and throbbing almost visibly. Leyla writhed, whimpering and sobbing, cringing back from the seeking tongue of the lash tip. Her hair lashed the tiles as she twisted her head from side to side.

  'Enough,' Kasim said. His face was flushed, his lips parted. 'Now Leyla. I shall solace you.'

  He turned to Marietta. 'See what a benevolent master I am? Only my favourites are treated thus. Is this not the most sublime punishment? The others vie for such attentions, but seldom are they required. A lifetime of living in the harem has turned many of the women into sheep. They do not know how to be disobedient. Leyla here is different. She was purchased in the slave market. I trained her myself, and I shall train you too. That is why you are so special. Why I wanted you the moment I saw you, soaked and shivering on the deck of the ship. Those who have been free, need the firmest, most exquisite, chastisement and discipline. Claudine will bend to the yoke before long I suspect. But you Marietta . . . Ah, you shall be a triumph. And at the end you will be willing.'

  His words filled her with utter dread but she had hardly time to ponder on them.

  Kasim had been unfastening his belt as he spoke. He reached down and freed his phallus. He held it for a moment, stroking it. Waiting. As if he wanted to savour the moment. When he loosed it Marietta saw that it was engorged, stiffly erect. Dark red, as if it too had been beaten. The stem was thick and ridged with prominent veins. It looked strong, vital. The moist swollen head of it was free from any covering of skin, unlike Gabriel's organ. The scrotum was dark and firm, like a plum.

  The sight of Kasim's erect phallus stirred Marietta strongly. The stem and testicles were surrounded by thick black curls. So the prohibition against pubic hair did not apply to him. She was glad. The hair made the organs look more exciting, even a little dangerous.

  Marietta envied Leyla. Her hungry swollen nether mouth, tortured as it was, was about to be given comfort.

  As if Leyla knew what was going to happen, she whispered to Kasim, entreating him to have mercy. But the lovely husky tones of her voice made the words sound like a plea for more.

  'Kasim. Please. I cannot stand it.'

  He gave a throaty laugh and bent his knees. The strong thigh muscles flexed as he thrust his buttocks towards her sex. The cock jutted forward and up.

  'You must,' he said sternly. 'Keep those arms straight. Forget your aching muscles. Bear my weight. It is your final ordeal.'

  Even now he was not going to let her up. Her chastisement must go on. Her body, bent into that obscene bow, must now receive her master's phallus. Marietta shivered as Kasim thrust forward, nosing the tip of his phallus into the pouting half-opened little slit. The naked pubic lips opened around him as he thrust at the entrance, seeming to suck him in greedily.

  Leyla's lack of pubic hair made her look all the more naked. Marietta could not fail to see every movement of her sex. The little kernel of delight, such a deep purplish-red, so strongly erect that indeed it was like a tiny cock, rubbed shamelessly against Kasim's phallus as it worked in and out.

  Now he leaned into her and thrust deeply. Leyla's juices bathed his stem and glistened on the dark thatch of his pubic hair. He moved slowly in and out, his eyes hooded, his mouth stretched around his teeth.

  Ley la moaned loudly. Marietta felt the muscles of her buttocks moving against her own hand as Leyla pushed forward to meet Kasim's thrusts. Her face burned with mortification. She was outraged that he had forced Claudine and herself to witness this - act of debasement. She wanted to run from the room, to blot out the sight of Leyla's painfully exposed sex. To pretend that she was not maddeningly aroused by the sight of Kasim's organ plunging into Leyla's willing flesh.

  He had warned Marietta that he would punish her in the same way, bend her to his will. But was it truly punishment when one desired a thing, as Leyla plainly did? Marietta too desired it so intensely that she felt her own pleasure mounting unbearably. But never would she admit the fact to anyone else.

  The cadence of Leyla's cries changed. Soft wet sounds came from the two joined bodies.

  'Soon. My Leyla, soon,' Kasim said hoarsely.

  He placed his hands around Leyla's narrow waist, holding on to her as she thrashed against him now, pubis to pubis. Marietta's arms ached from supporting them, but she dared not let go. Claudine's lovely face wore an avid expression. She bit her lips, not troubling to hide her enjoyment.

  Suddenly, Leyla groaned. Her buttocks tensed, and her belly jumped. Kasim stopped dead still. Sweat poured down his face as Leyla bucked against him, sucking her pleasure from the stem buried deeply inside her. He looked wracked by some inner torment. His face wore an expression of exquisite agony. Ah, how much like a bruised angel he looked. Leyla groaned loudly as her spasms faded.

  In a moment Kasim withdrew. His cock was hard still. It glistened with Leyla's juice. Marietta realised that he had not spilled his seed. Somehow, with incred-

  ible restraint, he had managed to stop at the precise moment of his own release.

  Kasim slumped forward, bending over the bow of Leyla's body in a gesture that possessed a singular grace. His cheek lay against her belly, which was soft and relaxed now. A moment later, he sank back onto his haunches.

  'You may let her go,' he said shortly, as he adjusted his clothing.

  Claudine and Marietta let Leyla down gently. Without their support she would have crashed to the floor. She lay on her back for a moment, taking deep shuddering breaths. Then ignoring the two women, she scrambled up and walked across to Kasim who had seated himself on a divan.

  Grasping the toe of his boot she covered it with kisses, murmuring, adoringly, 'Thank you, my lord. My life. Oh, thank you.'

  Still naked, the tears streaking her cheeks, she poured Kasim a glass of sherbet and on her knees, handed it to him. She assumed the same position of submission Marietta had witnessed earlier. Back straight, knees apart and head down. Her black hair flowed in deep waves over her breasts and pooled in her lap, masking the pouting belly with its lash marks and the tender abused sex.

  Kasim smiled and cupped her chin, lifting her face to his gaze. With his thumb he wipe
d away the tears that streaked her scarlet face and tugged playfully at her underlip.

  'And now my Leyla. I shall give you a task to perform. You are to take Marietta and Claudine and train them. I want them to be perfect in all the arts of entertainment and pleasure. I am planning a banquet for my friends in a few weeks time. These two will perform for me then. If they fail to please me, either of them, you will be chastised. Mark me well. What you have suffered up until now, is nothing beside what I shall do to you then.'

  Leyla gave a delicious little shudder. 'All shall be done as you wish it.'

  Claudine watched in open admiration. When Kasim smiled at her and beckoned her over, she walked meekly to him and sat at his feet.

  Marietta could stand it no more. Her womb burned, crying out for the release that she craved but which she denied wanting. Kasim looked up and pinned her with his long black eyes.

  The first thing Leyla shall do is choose you some beautiful clothes. I do not ever want to see that dress again.'

  With those words he had made a gesture of finality. Marietta felt frightened at the thought of being without her stays and boned bodices. It was if by forcing her body to be unconstricted, he would force her mind to follow.

  She felt that he saw inside her, knew what was in her very soul. But he would never reach that inner sanctity. She would fight him all the way.

  She told herself that, with a certainty she did not feel.

  Kasim's full mouth stretched in a grin. She saw triumph there, and complete self-assurance. There was nothing she could do.

  She whirled around and ran from the garden.

  Chapter Five

  The harem was dark, lit only by one flickering oil lamp. Moonlight streamed through the carved window screens, making lacy shadows that loomed across the tiled floor. Soft snores filled the room. Now and then a string of small brass bells, hanging in a draught, gave out a musical tinkling.

  In her sleep Marietta tossed and turned, disturbed by coloured images that invaded her mind. Her eyelids fluttered as her brows drew together in a frown. Her lips parted on a single word.

  'Kasim.'

  Her dreams were full of the scene in the garden. She saw again Kasim, standing over Leyla as she bent for him into the obscene bow-shape. He was looking down on her pale sweat-slicked body. Marietta stood at Ley-la's side, feeling that mixture of intense shame and excitement as she witnessed the other woman's chastisement.

  Then the dream changed. Leyla disappeared. Kasim and Marietta were alone. She was naked, and it was her that Kasim was tormenting.

  'Abase yourself,' he ordered. His lean angular features were composed into a frown. 'On your knees.'

  And her dream-self knelt meekly before him.

  The softly scented air played across her skin. Keeping her head bowed, she dipped down gracefully. Straightening her back, she thrust her breasts forward.

  Without being asked to, she spread her knees wide and felt the lips of her sex part as it was presented to his gaze. Though she was acutely self-conscious she gloried in the act of submission. Her mouth trembled as his dark eyes swept over her body, appraising the curves and contours.

  'Good. Good little slave,' Kasim said. His face softened, though his dark eyes glistened with cruelty.

  He reached out and pinched her nipples. Hard. She winced, but did not look up. The tender peaks gathered under his fingertips as he rolled and tugged at them. They became round like berries, seeming to flame into life, throbbing and burning under his touch.

  Then he slapped her breasts lightly, delighting in the way the flesh shook from side to side. He cupped the under-swell, lifting each breast as if weighing the flesh, then holding them in his palms, drawing them upwards so firmly that the flesh seemed engorged. The rosy nipples thrust out pertly, shiny with the inner pressure.

  'Bend your head, Marietta. Suckle at your breasts. I want to see your mouth working.'

  Marietta's dream-self hesitated. She could not do it. It was unthinkable. Kasim waited for her to comply. The pressure in her breasts was disconcerting but not frightening. Kasim's grasp, though hard, was not cruel. Her nipples looked bigger than usual, as if swollen to twice their normal size. They were glowing darkly and tingling. Two shameless cones, begging to be soothed by a soft mouth.

  'Surely you do not refuse?' Kasim said softly. He pulled her breasts a fraction higher.

  She gave a gasp of pain and bent her neck, turning her head slightly to one side to reach a nipple. She opened her lips over the swollen peak and began mouthing it.

  'Good. Suck gently. Is that not good? Now. Lick each one. I want to see your tongue.'

  She did as he asked, forcing herself to the act, glad that her face was averted. The aching pressure in her breasts became centred on her nipples. Though she hated to be watched, she found pleasure in the act. Her nipples were hot and delicious, tingling in her mouth. The skin was so taut over the hard little pips that it was like licking warm marble. Her tongue circled each one until they were shiny, polished with her saliva. The joint sensations of her tongue on her own nipple-flesh and the hard little nubs questing against the roof of her mouth were unique and tantalising. Her breath quickened.

  'Enough,' Kasim said, letting her breasts drop abruptly.

  She almost cried out as her pleasure was interrupted. The nipples were jerked from her mouth. Then she gasped at the bruised and heavy weight of her breasts as they settled back high up against her ribcage. She was painfully aware of them, though he no longer touched them. They seemed swollen still, jutting forward pertly. The soft night air teased her wet nipples.

  She tensed, not knowing what to expect next and kept her chin down, closing her eyes, not daring to look as Kasim trailed his fingers down to her belly. He paused and took the softly rounded flesh in one hand. Squeezing and kneading her belly gently. He teased her navel with his thumb, stroking it with the lightest touch of his thumb nail.

  'What a delightful little flesh-cup this is,' he crooned, softly. His voice was husky with desire. 'Shall I trickle honey onto your belly and let it pool here in this hollow? Then shall I allow the flow to run down over your plump little mound? How the stickiness of it would cleave to the lips of your sex. It would anoint the flesh-

  hood and glaze your kernel of delight. I could bid Leyla suck the honey from you. How I would enjoy watching. Would you like that, Marietta? Would you?'

  She dared not answer. Her mouth was dry with fear and anticipation. Surely he would not do as he said. She imagined herself spread out, thighs wide apart, while Leyla kneeled between them, and Kasim watching, with that hard expression on his face, one finger stroking his full mouth while he gave Leyla instructions. She would die with the shame of it.

  But the thought of Leyla, holding open the lips of her sex, of her hot tongue, lapping at the honeyed flesh, made her bear down. Her womb contracted and her flesh-tube pulsed. The pink inner lips of her sex convulsed. She hoped Kasim did not notice.

  Kasim was silent, intent on stroking her. Her navel seemed to have become a new and unexpected pleasure centre. Her belly trembled as he stroked the firm, soft skin. It was an effort not to draw her muscles in, away from his knowing fingers. Poking a finger into the shallow indentation Kasim gripped the rim of the tiny flesh-cup between finger and thumb and tugged on it, rolling it gently, squeezing it together into a tiny tight slit.

  Marietta's dream-self felt an answering pull, deep in her belly. She was aware of her whole body. It seemed that she was in a state of spreading heat. Her nipples were erect, throbbing from the firm pinching. Her breasts were hot and flushed from the slaps and the squeezing of Kasim's strong fingers. They felt heavy and ripe. The insistent, subtle tugging on her navel, sent little shocks of pleasure down to her exposed sex. She lifted her head a little, looking away from the hand that rested on her belly, trying to bring order to her emotions and to distance herself from his disturbing touch.

  The dream shifted.

  From the corner of her eye Marietta caught
a move-

  merit. A man was standing in the shadow of a fig tree. Watching. He was tall, powerfully built, familiar. Her stomach jigged.

  Gabriel.

  Gabriel, the beautiful slave she had seen chastised in the market place; he who had prompted such devastating emotions in her. How long had he been standing there? The sexual tension was evident in every line of his body. His eyes were intent on her face, as if he understood her inner struggle. The breeze blew his long flaxen hair across his face, masking for a moment the grey eyes which had narrowed and were glistening with desire.

  Marietta was at first appalled that her shame was being witnessed by another man. Then she perceived a kind of justice in it. Had she not watched Gabriel's humiliation?

  A new and heightened awareness swept over her. The thought of Gabriel's eyes roving over her secret flesh, his perfect body a slave to his desire, added an extra dimension to her torment.

  She felt the swelling of her sex-lips, and knew that she was growing damp. Kasim would see. They would both see. The pink inner-flesh would grow ever more slick and the bud of pleasure would become erect and thrust against its tiny hood. Even now it had begun to throb strongly, stirring into life, eager to be rubbed and stroked. She remembered how Gabriel had looked while he was being lashed; the intensity of the pleasure-pain on his face as he spilled his seed before the crowd.

  Kasim's proximity and Gabriel's presence seemed to merge in her vision. She felt surrounded by the heat of their sexual energy. Yet in an odd way she felt in control of them. These two strong and enigmatic men desired her strongly.

  She was at the centre of this tableaux. It was her responses which prompted their joint fascination. Her naked body, her moistly parted sex, which held them in thrall.

  The knowledge stirred within her. Powerfully erotic. In the midst of debasement then, there could be strength. Marietta felt a primaeval flutter deep inside her womb. She found herself growing increasingly excited, and could no longer control the tremors in her thighs. Still, she longed to hide the evidence of her arousal. She was too exposed, too open in the most intimate way. It frightened her. If only she could move her hips a little, clench her buttocks, so that her parted flesh-lips could close together. She felt the moisture gathering. But she dared not move. It would be a sign of disobedience and would prompt Kasim to carry out ever more refined humilations. If Kasim beat her in front of Gabriel she could not endure it. Just the very thought of it sent tingles of anguish down her spine.