The Captive Flesh

by Cleo Cordell

  He thought that Marietta must almost hate him, but the knowledge did not distress him. Leyla had once thought that way.

  They were almost at his rooms. He slowed a little, savouring the last few moments of the journey. He allowed his mind to wander back a little. Marietta had looked so desirable spread out on the -divan for the massage. He had meant only to watch her being prepared, but the sight of her lying naked and relaxed had prompted him to lay hands on her. He smiled as he thought of her outrage when she discovered that it had been he who had oiled her body, spread her bottom-cheeks, and plunged his thumbs into her tight little anus.

  How she had turned on him when he revealed himself. Her anger was delightful to him. The prospect of chastising her had him hard immediately. And when he slapped those creamy thighs and felt the firm flesh grow hot under his hand, the sweet ache in his cock-stem had seemed almost unbearable. Her little gasps of pain were music to his ears. That lovely face, all anguished and tear-stained, aroused him further.

  Ah, how she twisted and writhed, yet her knees had remained far apart, displaying the delicate pink folds surrounded by that fleece - never had he seen such pale pubic hair. Though she longed to, she had not drawn her knees together. That pleased him. She had begun already to learn obedience.

  He had felt an almost uncontrollable urge to bend and mouth her pretty sex and then to plunge his cock deep inside her; ride her, until she cried out for mercy. But it was too soon. Penetration - that most intimate contact - would be her final reward - his too. He trembled at the thought of what would come to pass. It was only a matter of time. One day she would be willing to open her body and mind to him, to abase herself completely, then . . .

  But for now, such a rebellious slave must be treated harshly. Tenderness must wait. And, though she did not realise it, the waiting would be an equal ordeal for him. He had kept his face impassive, in the hammam, while his cock-tip stirred against his belly, weeping salty moisture into the dark hair that grew thickly there.

  He was pleased with himself for thinking to bring her back to his apartments. He had shown admirable restraint up until now. It was time to enjoy himself a little.

  Now, leading Marietta behind him, he made his way across a courtyard and entered another corridor. He was erect still, the swollen cock-tip rubbing maddeningly against the thick leather belt at his waist. It was sweet torture to contemplate the many delights to come.

  For what could compare to the delight of seeing her flesh awake under his expert touch? How she fought him, even when she knew that there was no hope of escape. He respected her spirit. What a soldier she would have made! And what a prisoner of her own flesh she was.

  He had sensed early on that she set restrictions for herself. But this seemed to be a thing she was unaware of. It was as if she was two people. For, certainly, her body knew things that her mind did not. When his thumbs explored the mouth between her buttocks - so tight and hot it was - he had felt the reluctant pulsing of her flesh, the trembling of those parted cheeks. She had been shamed by her responses, hiding her face in her hands as if she could deny her pleasure, her moans held in by the fingers pressed to her mouth.

  How different Marietta was from Claudine. He smiled as he remembered the other French woman rolling and grinding in complete abandon against the slave woman's hands. There was no need to hold back with that one. He would take his pleasure with her soon. There was no need to prepare her further, or to punish her. An opportunity missed, sadly. For Claudine was a creature born for pleasure. He anticipated how it would feel to have her luscious body writhing under him. He felt eager to try her.

  But somehow he did not burn for her as he did for Marietta.

  Ah, they were here. He stopped at the entrance to his apartments. Behind him Marietta came to an abrupt halt. He heard her breathing falter. His cock jerked. Little tremors of sensations ran up his engorged stem and gathered in the swollen tip. With a small smile playing about his hard mouth he stepped into the room.

  Marietta lifted her knees and stepped out smartly across the enormous room. The stiff leather collar kept her chin high and her head pointing forward, so that her vision was filled by Kasim's broad velvet-clad shoulders. The room smelt of incense and orange blossom. She felt the softness of thick carpets under her feet. As Kasim led her to the far end of the room she glanced to one side and took in details of her surroundings. This was his private place. Though she was afraid, she was intrigued. The walls were panelled with screens of carved painted wood, gilded and set with precious stones. Many candles gave the room a soft glow and deepened the colours of carpets and tiles. It was a beautiful room, but she felt threatened by its cold richness. It seemed to her that it reflected Kasim's personality to perfection.

  Kasim led her over to an alcove where marble pillars framed a platform which was draped and covered with cushions. Stained glass spilled coins of colour on to the rich silks and satins. Kasim stopped. Gripping her shoulders, he positioned her so that she faced the centre of the room. In front of her, a few choice pieces of furniture were arranged around a large carpeted area. They seemed to have been placed so that guests could watch entertainments.

  Leyla came to stand beside Marietta. She tried to catch her eye, but Marietta avoided looking at her. She kept her eyes downcast, red-faced with humiliation as Kasim secured the lead to one of the slim pillars.

  'Lift your arms,' he ordered.

  Marietta did so. She fought the urge to struggle. It would only be worse if she angered him further. He secured her wrists to a hook, so that she was pressed face-forwards against the pillar. She felt the cold marble against her breasts and belly and leant against the pillar as if it might offer comfort.

  'Leyla. Come,' Kasim said.

  Marietta pressed her burning face to the marble. She looked around fearfully as Leyla walked across to the platform but Kasim seemed to have forgotten her for the moment. She knew him well enough already to know that her respite would be brief.

  Leyla's face was flushed, her full dark lips were slightly parted. She looked eager, excited. She still wore the flimsy bath-robe. Her damp hair was wrapped in a gauze cloth. One strand of her night-black hair had come loose. The heavy coil of it hung over one shoulder, reaching down past her waist.

  In contrast Kasim was dressed all in black. His tunic was velvet and the loose trousers, tucked into his boots, were made of softest leather. Kasim drew one long finger around Leyla's jawline, then cupped her chin. He put out his tongue and licked her full underlip. Leyla drew his tongue into her mouth, suckling greedily.

  Kasim drew the bath-robe from her shoulders and let it fall at her feet. The head-cloth slipped off as she let her head fall back. The night-black ringlets cascaded down to her hips. She stood facing Kasim, arms at her sides. Waiting. Grasping her heavy breasts Kasim squeezed them, teasing the rouged nipples until they stood out as hard as little stones.

  Leyla gasped as he mouthed her breasts, biting at her nipples, slapping the up-swell gently so that the breasts quivered. For a few moments he toyed with her, licking the deep cleavage, pressing the breasts together so that he could suck both nipples at once. Then he pressed down on Leyla's shoulders, so that she sank to her knees.

  She dipped her chin and arranged herself into the submissive posture, linking her hands behind her back, straightening her shoulders so that her breasts jutted forward. Then she arched her back, and parted her knees widely, displaying the naked sex-lips and moist inner flesh.

  'Are you watching, Marietta?' Kasim said softly. 'I want you to take notice. Whenever I order it, you will assume this posture. Wherever you are, whoever is present. Understand?'

  'Yes,' she said hesitantly, thinking how dreadful it was to display oneself in that way.

  At a word from Kasim, Leyla began kissing his leather-encased thighs. She rubbed her chin cat-like against his leg. Without changing position, she took the fabric into her mouth, biting into the flesh of his inner thighs. Her tongue drew wet trails across the leather a
s she licked and sucked at it. Slowly, she worked inwards to mouth the bulge at his groin. Keeping her hands clasped behind her back, she leaned forward, working over his tumescence. Up and down, her busy wet mouth moved. Her open lips slid over the hidden cock-stem, unable to surround it but biting gently, teasing the swollen head which was clearly visible through the thin leather.

  Then Leyla bent her head to nuzzle Kasim's testicles. She opened her mouth wide, her tongue snaking out to spread heat and spittle around the firmly encased bag. She lifted the balls on the point of her tongue, stroking firmly up the centre division and dipping beneath his thighs to lap at the root. A spasm passed over Kasim's face. He stroked Leyla's loose hair. She began again to slide her lips back and forth over the leather-covered bulge. The cock-tip jerked. Kasim pressed towards her mouth. Leyla nosed at the opening of the loose trousers.

  Kasim shuddered and pushed her head away. 'Not yet, my Leyla. Soon,' he said.

  He hooked her under her armpits and lifted her, bringing her up his body. She stood on tiptoe as he bent his head and began biting her nipples. She squirmed, thrusting out her backside and clasping his thigh between her legs. He worked his mouth up her neck and placed biting kisses along her jaw. She turned her mouth towards him, but he twisted away laughing, and bit her sharply on the earlobe.

  Leyla gasped, and sagged against him, her head falling back to reveal the long white sweep of her throat. Her hands were still clasped behind her. She did not bring them forward but closed her eyes and leant into Kasim as he probed between her parted thighs.

  'Open wide to me/ he ordered.

  Leyla spread her legs, bending her knees slightly to allow him greater access. Kasim plunged his fingers inside her, while she moaned and rubbed her pubis against his knuckles. When her buttocks began to flex and release, he withdrew his fingers.

  'Before you reach your peak of pleasure you must earn the right to your release,' he said. 'You know what you must do? You will obey me? Let me hear you say it.'

  'I will obey you gladly, my lord. Always/ Leyla breathed.

  Putting her from him, Kasim walked over to Marietta. Leyla stood with her chin down, breathing hard, waiting for his command. Kasim leaned close to Marietta. She could smell his breath. It was scented with cinnamon and lemon.

  'Now. This wicked slave must be chastised. What shall we do with her?' Kasim's voice took on a harsher note.

  Marietta tensed, ready for his touch. The scene she had just witnessed had affected her strongly. Leyla's lovely body, bent in obeisance, the graceful way she had used her mouth and tongue, could not fail to be arousing. Watching her, Marietta had found her own desire mounting. She also found herself wondering what it would be like to be in Leyla's place.

  When Kasim stroked her face she smdt Leyla's musk on his fingers. He rubbed his fingertips over her mouth, smearing the moisture and perfume into her skin. When he took a step back, she waited, her whole body cringing, for the expected slap to her breasts or buttocks.

  The touch, when it came, was gentle. Kasim lifted the heavy mass of her hair and laid it to fall over one shoulder. For just an instant, so brief that she thought she imagined it, Marietta felt his lips touch the back of her neck, just under the leather strap. He kissed the prominent nubs of her spine, licking the places where the skin was stretched thinly over bone.

  'You refused to chastise Leyla, thinking to save her. But it was of no avail. She accepts her punishment gladly. And know this: she will never show you the same mercy.'

  Kasim reached for a thin pliable switch. He ran it down Marietta's backbone and trailed the end of it into the cleft of her buttocks.

  'Spread your legs,' he ordered. And when she did so hesitantly, he probed with the switch, tickling the still-sore flesh of her thighs and teasing the abused little bottom-mouth. She gasped as the pliable end probed between the slightly parted sex-lips, stroking the tender flesh with a delicate touch. Kasim flicked the notched end lightly from side to side, easing the moist lips more open with each stroke and reaching up so that it licked against the flesh-hood.

  'Wider. Bend your knees. Embrace the pillar between your thighs.'

  Marietta bit her lip. Awkwardly, she bent her knees and spread her legs. The marble was cold, soothing against her glowing thighs. As she pulled downwards, her wrist bonds tightened, exerting pressure on her arms and forcing her underarms into prominent hollows. At the same time her breasts were pulled up tightly, the under-swell was lifted and the slim pillar was pressed between her cleavage, so that one breast was forced to either side.

  Tart your buttocks and push down, so that your flesh-lips open and your bud is laid directly against the pillar.' Kasim said, probing ever more deeply with the switch-tip.

  Marietta felt the tip enter her body, as she bore down on to it. Her flesh-tube convulsed at the invasion, but she dared not lift herself up. Kasim moved the switch, very gently, so that it rubbed against the moist flesh-walls of her vagina.

  'As your buttocks are stroked, I wish your kernel of delight to be punished too,' he said. 'It will learn discipline, as you will.'

  Marietta felt completely vulnerable. The switch-tip moved inside her body with a subtle scratchy pressure. It made her long for the thrust of something thicker, something that would fill her and force her flesh-walls to contract and become liquid with her juices. She trembled inwardly while the muscles in her overstretched calves and thighs ached and burned.

  It did not seem possible that she could maintain the position. Only the bonds at her wrists kept her from over-balancing.

  Kasim withdrew the switch-tip. He ran it up her arms and flicked lightly at her armpits, rifling the golden curls. Then he stroked up and down her ribs and circled the taut muscles of her belly. He teased her nipples. Flicking the under-sides, snapping each one upwards until it throbbed and tingled. Marietta clenched her teeth against the pain. She tensed, knowing that this was just the beginning. Her whole body seemed to be waiting, dreading the moment when he would begin lashing her.

  But Kasim handed Leyla the switch.

  Understanding now what was to happen, Marietta pressed more closely against the pillar. She felt a sort of desperation. Only now did she begin to see that there truly was no escaping the punishment. She knew that she would be unable to bear the lashing with dignity. Already her buttocks were so sore. At least her belly was protected by the pillar, but her legs were wide open, so that the upper and under-sides of her buttocks were vulnerable to the lash.

  She prayed that Leyla would not lash her too hard. She shifted against the ache in her arms and legs, hating the position she had been forced to assume. Loathing the fact that Leyla could see her like this. New colour scalded her face.

  'Begin,' Kasim said. 'Do not stop until I order it.'

  'Yes, my lord,' Leyla said meekly, stepping close to Marietta.

  Slowly she raised her hand and lashed the switch back and forth across Marietta's already reddened flesh. Marietta cried out at the first contact. She tried to thrust forward, cringing away from each stroke. Her belly and pubis rubbed against the pillar, the contact forcing her heated sex to awaken once again. She writhed and sobbed, her buttocks bucking and jerking. Gripping the marble with her thighs, she pressed herself close to its cold surface. Each stroke of the lash forced a cry from her as the warm pain radiated through her buttocks and seemed to find a throbbing echo in the erect little nub that rubbed against the marble.

  Marietta longed to toss her head from side to side in her distress, but she could hardly move her head. The leather collar ensured that her chin was forced to stay high. Her cries seemed to force their way out through her stretched lips, sounding thin and high.

  Oh, it was unbearable that they should watch the way she worked her hips, thrusting and rubbing against the pillar, like an animal in heat. The marble began to grow warm between her legs. As her juices began to flow, she slid the little pouting sex up and down. Her breath came fast as she panted and groaned, twisting this way and that, unable t
o escape the switch which tormented and tortured, even while it prompted her abused flesh to new and undreamt of sensations.

  Leyla flicked the switch upwards, so that it stroked the undersides of Marietta's thighs and buttocks. Now and then the flexible leather made contact with her flesh-valley, slapping at the tender inner-cheeks. Marietta's frantic sobs filled her ears. She could no longer tell whether she was longing for the smarting pain or trying to escape from it.

  Leyla began laying the strokes up the sides of Marietta's body. She beat her armpits, where the muscles were cruelly stretched. Then she gave her attention to the sides of her breasts, until Marietta felt that the whole of her body was on fire. Perspiration beaded her forehead. Tears bathed her face and dripped off her chin. She tasted salt on her lips and let out a shuddering groan of complete surrender. It was as if something in her body gave way.

  She seemed surrounded by waves of pain and pleasure, mixed. Her body thrummed as if the whole of it was a musical instrument that gave out a prolonged and perfect note.

  She realised, only gradually, that Leyla had stopped lashing her. The weals covering her body, burned and stung, but no more came.

  'Enough.' Kasim's voice seemed to come from very far away.

  Marietta gave a final sob and would have collapsed, but for the wrist bonds. Then she felt gentle hands on her.

  'Hush, lovely one,' Leyla whispered.

  Marietta gasped at first at the agonising touch on her reddened flesh, then she felt a soothing coolness as scented oil was applied to her buttocks and back. The soreness and pain receded somewhat, but the disturbing heat remained in her flesh. Between her sex-lips her bud throbbed. Her womb pulsed, thirsting for release. She was again helplessly aroused. Her flesh stirred to a point of sexual excitement, but was given no chance of a final climax. She writhed in frustration, rubbing the strongly erect bud against the warm slick marble, wanting to put an end to her torment.

  Kasim drew close. He turned her face towards him and licked the tears from her flaming cheeks. His hand strayed to her sex and played lightly over it. She leaned into his hand, yearning for the thrust of his hard fingers, but he laughed and pulled away.