Choice of Submissions

by Terri Pray

  Go through with this. I've come this far. I can do the rest.

  “Beautiful.” His voice little more than a low growl. “You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever known, Celeste.”

  She swallowed hard and tensed as she felt the bed move. His presence on it one she couldn't ignore. Her inner thighs felt slick. The pain and his control over her being all combined and left her wanting to much more from him, more than she dared give life to.

  He reached between her thighs, cupping her mound, teasing her lower lips apart.

  “Slick and wet, little slut. You know what is coming, don't you?”

  “Yes... ”

  He pinched her swollen sex lips, forcing a yelp into life. “Yes what?”

  “S..Sir.” She wasn't ready to call him Master, not yet. Not now.

  “That will do, for now.” He eased up on his grip on her sex, sliding one finger between her sore lips. He teased, slowly, into her sex fully with one finger. “Such a tight, wet little cunt. You haven't lost any of that in our time apart, have you Celeste?”

  “N— no Sir.”

  “Good, its best you keep yourself that way. It's more pleasing. No man wants a loose woman.” He slid his finger slowly in and out of her core, teasing her senses with each new thrust. Her inner walls rippled about his finger, holding it within her body, not wanting to feel him draw it out only to then have no choice as he did as he pleased. “You'll be ready for me soon.”

  She was ready for him now.

  “Punishment will have to be meted out in parts.” He slipped his finger from her sex. “I don't need you left with too many questions from others, that would make our arrangement more than a little difficult for you. You might even try to find a way to avoid it.”

  Arrangement? What arrangement? This was a one off thing. Not something that she was supposed to be a part of on a regular basis. Or had she missed something? I don't care right now, I need him.

  “You're hungry for me, aren't you, slut?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Soon.” He slipped his hand free from between her thighs and brought his damp hand down with a crack on her welted ass.

  Celeste gasped, her hips rocking sharply with the blow. Heat claimed her inner walls. She couldn't shut out how she felt, or how she wanted him. It had been too long. Too long since she had enjoyed his touch, felt helpless with him and writhed in the arms of the only man who had proven he was able to control her very soul.

  “I can smell your desire on the air.” He lifted his hand up and brought it back down on her welted ass.

  Celeste gasped, a rock playing through her hips. She groaned, trying to take control of how she felt, but it was pointless. He wasn't the sort of man who would ever allow her to be in charge when he was in the room. She knew that. Understood that about him. She loved that about him...

  Loved?

  No, she didn't love him— it wasn't possible. He had hurt her, taken her from everything she knew, she couldn't possibly love a man like Davien Blood.

  Could she?

  “Beg for my touch, Celeste.”

  “P— please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Take me,” her breath caught in the back of her throat.

  “Where, on a walk?”

  “No.” She choked, how could he tease her like this, it wasn't right! “Please, you know what I want, Sir.”

  “The tell me.”

  “Fuck me, please, god, please just do it.”

  He moved, not speaking another word as he pulled his trousers open, not even bothering to strip fully. Davien settled in behind her fully, his pants half down around his thighs, his hard cock pressing between her legs as she tensed, waiting for him to claim her afresh.

  His. It didn't matter how she tried to lie to herself, or hide what she felt, she belonged to this man and always would.

  The head of his cock pressed fully between her thighs, but he didn't thrust in, not yet. Her core clenched. She groaned, trying to lift her buttocks a little higher, needing him within her being. She'd begged him to fuck her, so why wasn't he doing it?

  He thrust fully into her core, claiming her, spreading her inner walls around his cock until she had no choice but to cry out in joy. Her hips tipped, rocking with his thrust only to push back against him, seeking his touch again.

  “You have missed this.”

  “Yes!”

  “You need this!” He growled in her ear, leaning over her welted back. “You crave it. It's in your heart, your soul. You can't shut it out. You couldn't even if your life depended on it.” He pulled back from her body, giving her little more than a moment to realize he had moved before he thrust back into her tight, clenching, core.

  She groaned, closing her eyes as she surrendered herself to his use.

  Sweat beaded across her breasts. Her nipples hardened points that dragged against the bedding with each full thrust into her welcoming body. Time lost all meaning. She had no care for herself, only for what was happening.

  Her thighs tensed. Pressure built in the pit of her being. She needed him deeper. Filling her. She pressed back against him, grinding her hips, trying to set the pace, but he wasn't going to let her do that. His hand slapped hard and fast against her ass, forcing a cry of pain into life.

  “I am in command here, not you, remember that slut.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She nodded and swallowed hard, the pain only adding to the hunger in her body. “Please, fuck me. Don't stop, please.”

  He laughed, and dug his fingers into her hips, holding her steady. Small points of pain blossomed along her hips. She groaned and buried her head into the soft pillows. Her back arched, her bottom lifted as high as she could manage it. She wanted him deep. Without mercy and that's what she got.

  Each new thrust threatened to send her to her belly. She tensed, expecting to fall, but his grip held her tight, in place, against his body. Her core rippled. She groaned. His balls slapping against her ass with each new move.

  “I can feel it. Your need. Your hunger. It's burning, pressing on me, demanding my attention. It matches my own.” His voice little more than a growl, breathy, hot, animalistic against her back. “Come for me, slave. Come for me now!”

  She screamed, her throat raw from the sound, her body tight, clenching fully on his, her hips rolling, bucking back against him as she let the emotions, the pleasure and pain, take her to the edge of sanity and back again.

  “More!”

  She didn't have any more to give him.

  Chapter Nine

  How wrong she had been. Her body ached from the use she had been put through but, as she had expected, she'd woken up alone. He'd gone, sometime in the hours after she'd collapsed on the bed, but not until he'd seen to the welts on her body. Bathing them with a damp, cool cloth, a habit he had obviously not lost.

  With a low groan Celeste rolled out of the bed. The welts. She could feel each and every one of the welts left by the belt. He'd never been easy on her when it came to a beating and hadn't been this time either.

  Her face throbbed. He'd hit her? Yes, she remembered that. He'd slapped her across the face and knocked her to the bed. Had he left a mark? She darted to the mirror and peered at her reflection. There it was. A small, red mark on her cheek. Not a full fledged bruise but there was no denying it was there. How was she going to hide that?

  Make-up?

  Did she own any? Yes, there was a small pot of powder and a brush, it wasn't much but she could cover, or tone down the mark a little. God, what had she gotten herself into?

  His arms, his bed, his control...

  “No, this can't be allowed to happen again.” She searched through the draws in the small dressing table, finally finding the pot of powder. She needed to wash, bathe, do something to wash away the smell of his body, her body, the passion they'd shared, before she dressed and tried to hide the mark, but that meant calling in a slave, or servant with water.

  How was she to do that without stepping out of
the room? There had to be a bell, or...

  The simple rope hung in the corner of the room. She'd seen something like that before in her time in the great houses. Celeste grabbed her robe and frowned, seeing that her robe was torn. What was she going to do with the damaged clothing? Between Davien and Tearlach she'd already lost a dress and a robe. She didn't have much more she could afford to lose.

  She tugged the rope and settled down to wait for the slave. Clothing, she'd have to earn the money for that, which meant using the herb skills she'd begun to learn whilst on the ship. Was it enough to earn a few coins, or would she find herself in trouble for being without real funds?

  She tried to recall what she had read on the laws of the Island, she didn't need to pay for her keep, food and board, etc., but clothing she would have to pay for herself. She knew the basics of healing herbs, enough to make teas that would help someone sleep and the books the Captain had left her would help her learn far more.

  Just enough to eke out her life, and she knew how to sew, so repairing clothing shouldn't be a problem.

  A soft tap on the door drew her from her thoughts.

  “Mistress? You required help?” The soft voice called through the closed door.

  “Yes, some bath water and clean towels.”

  “Anything else, Mistress?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Yes, Mistress. I'll return soon with the water you requested.” The slave hurried away from the door, leaving Celeste to return her attention to the damaged clothing. The robe would be easy to repair. The dress? No, that looked like it was beyond repair, not unless she wanted to make it into something far more revealing.

  That was a possibility. It would come in useful the next time she had one of the guards join her.

  A slight smile tugged at her lips, heat brushing her cheeks. Yes, she could see how it would be appealing to the eyes of a man. Cut short, and then deep over her breasts, yes, it would cling to her form and beg for the touch of a man, or a woman.

  Heat rippled through her core and she uttered a curse. She'd had sex only the night before, why would she crave it again so soon?

  Davien's training. He'd made her this way. She couldn't shut down what she'd become, and a part of her didn't want to.

  “Damnit, what have I become? A whore? A slave? Something else? I don't know anymore, truly I don't.” She muttered and folded the torn dress over the back of a chair, she could see to that later. Whatever she now was this wasn't the time to deal with it.

  The knock on the door warned her that the water was there. Celeste stepped back and let the slaves in with the steaming buckets of water. One of the slaves pulled the tub out and uncovered it before the others poured the steaming water into the bath.

  “Are you sure there is nothing else we could offer you, Mistress?” The soft spoken raven haired woman eased to her knees at Celeste's feet. “We are here to serve you.”

  Celeste faltered. What was so wrong in using the slaves? They were here to serve, to please. She sucked in her bottom lip, letting her gaze linger on the dark haired slave. “You can stay, the others will leave.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” The kneeling woman replied as the others filed out of the room and closed the door behind them. “Thank you for permitting me the honor of serving you.”

  “You will not speak of what happens in this room. If you do I will see you dead. Is that clear, slave?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Good, lay out the towels, and a clean robe.” She turned her back on the slave and walked over to the steaming water, stripping off the torn robe she had pulled on.

  The slave gasped as she looked at Celeste. “Mistress has been hurt?”

  “Yes, but I'll heal.” She climbed into the tub and closed her eyes. “The soap and sponges slave. Clean me. And be gentle about it.” The last thing she needed was the slave to be rough with her. Her body wouldn't be able to take it. Not only that but she'd end up punishing the slave.

  No, all she wanted to do was relax and enjoy the woman's touch.

  The slave moved slowly around the tub and settled herself on her knees at the side. “May I know what happened, Mistress?”

  “No.” She didn't snap, but kept herself calm. “Just do as you have been told to, slave. Or I will send you down to the guards for being displeasing.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” She trembled and dipped the soft cloth into the water. “I'm sorry, Mistress. I'm new here and still learning the rules.”

  “Understood.” Learning the ways of a new place was never easy. She knew that all too well. Hell, she was still trying to learn, to come terms with what she had to do, and what would cause her problems on the Island. “How did you come to be here?”

  The slave eased to the back of the tub, sliding her arms down around Celeste, caressing across her breasts with the soft, wet, cloth. “My father sold me to the Island, Mistress.”

  “Why?”

  “Too many daughters, Mistress. He couldn't afford to marry me off, and reckoned I was spoiled goods being this old and unwed.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty, Mistress.”

  Celeste nodded, the slave was right, old for an unwed woman, even the rich normally married off their daughters before they turned twenty one. For someone from the farms, or trades, an unwed daughter was a burden, unless she worked like five men. “I'm sorry he did that to you.”

  “I hoped that I'd be able to find a good man, even thought about running away, but my Dad, he put me up for sale. I didn't know until it was too late and they snatched me to bring me here. I've been here about two weeks now, Mistress.”

  “And you've been trained to obey?”

  “In some ways, yes. I don't like being with men that much though, Mistress. They aren't that— well they're rough. Women are better to be around. They don't try and just— well— brutes.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean.” Celeste sighed and relaxed under the woman's touch. Her soft caress with the cloth helped to ease some of the pain she was still in. “Women can be gentle, even tender. In this place I doubt you are allowed that type of company very often. The men here outnumber the women by quite some amount, from what I've seen.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “You seem— unhappy, slave.”

  “Yes, Mistress. I know when this service is over I will be returned to the hall and the guards will be looking my way.” There was a hitch in the young woman's voice that caught her attention.

  “It's part of being a slave here.”

  “Yes, Mistress, but if I could find a way to serve that would mean I'm not in the hall so much, it would be easier.” The slave murmured.

  Celeste almost smiled. Yes, she knew, full well, what the slave was trying to do and it wouldn't work. “However anyone who tried to shelter you would find themselves facing the wrath of Jamezen. Not something a free man or woman would desire to experience. So, you will have to enjoy the moments you have here, and survive through the rest. It's not nice. It's not fair. But it is the life you have been consigned to.”

  “Yes— but if... ”

  “There is no but on this, slave. You obey, you serve, you accept it all and move on.” She opened her eyes and watched the play of the slave's hands over her breasts. The touch was soft, welcoming and something she could easily enjoy. Her nipples hardened, her breasts tightening. It was so easy to sink into the delight of the slave's touch but she knew she had to keep her thoughts in order. The slave had already made it clear she was interested in being with Celeste to avoid the hall and she couldn't permit the slave to take advantage of her.

  “Mistress, I could please you in any way you so desired.”

  “You will do that regardless.”

  “Yes, Mistress. I'm sorry.”

  Celeste nodded. Who ever this slave was she would have to be watched, closely. Intelligent, and dangerous. The sort that would manipulate men easily if given the chance. Or women, yes, especially women. She could hear that in the
voice of the slave. In the way she tried to change things. The warm water had done the job, her muscles weren't so tense now and the pain in her body had eased. If she stayed in the water much longer she'd end up being distracted by the touch of the slave. “Enough, bring the towels.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” she rose with an easy gait that told Celeste that the woman had at least paid attention to how to move as a slave. The slave picked up the towels and brought them back, opening one for Celeste. “Mistress?”

  Celeste nodded and stood, slowly, lifting herself out of the tub. She stepped into the warmth of the towel and wrapped it about herself.

  “You have a beautiful body, Mistress.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I could please you... ”

  “No, not at this time. You'd be using it as a way of avoiding the service required of you in the hall.” Celeste replied calmly.

  “Mistress, please, I'm begging you don't send me back down there just yet.” The slave lowered to her knees and pressed her lips against Celeste's feet. “I could be so good for you. I could please you in ways you've never known before.”

  “You've no idea what I've enjoyed before, slave. You're presuming you know my life, you don't.” Her voice turned cold. “Stand up.”

  The slave stood up slowly, her head bowed. “Please... ”

  “No.”

  “Mistress I can't... ”

  “You will leave, now. I don't want to see you near my quarters again. You've shown you do not, as yet, understand that it's not your needs that count.”

  “I can learn, please... ”

  “Not with me, you won't. Now leave.”

  The woman didn't move, not for several long minutes. “I don't believe you will... ”

  Celeste had had enough. She lashed out through the air, smacking one hand hard and fast across the slave's face. The slave stumbled back to the floor with a cry of pain. Blood touched the slave's lips.