by Lily White
Unlike Aiden, Anthony had been soft and tender the first time he took me. Over time, he’d taught me so much about myself sexually that I’d never known. Through his efforts, I’d learned to enjoy small bits of pain and the heightened sensation that came with it as well as the loss of my senses. He would take my ability to see and hear sometimes, and in others, my ability to feel anything but what he wanted me to feel.
The car arrived at the private airport quickly and Anthony escorted me onto the waiting plane as his staff loaded our bags and readied us for flight.
“I suggest trying to get some sleep, beautiful girl. This will be a long flight, as I’ve told you before. I need to get some work done and won’t have time to entertain you.”
My body tingled at the thought of his entertainment. “Okay. I’m exhausted anyway from being in the sun all day.”
I slept well the entire flight and was refreshed by the time we landed in France. It was nighttime and the full moon hung over the sprawling beauty of the land around us. I wasn’t sure what part of the country we’d landed in and I knew that Anthony would never divulge our exact location. I was always kept in the dark as to such details, but in truth, it never really mattered.
Another car took us to a large estate. Anthony informed me that it was a chateau and had been owned by the family for centuries. The long driveway took fifteen minutes to travel and my eyes widened at the sight of the main house. It was absolutely breathtaking in its beauty. From what I could see by the light of the moon and stars, the house was as large as Anthony’s but from it rose cylindrical turrets that reminded me of a medieval castle. The ivory color of the outside walls appeared rough from whatever material they’d used to construct it.
We reached the large wooden entry doors and Anthony didn’t even have to knock before a beautiful woman opened them and welcomed us inside. Her long brown hair swished back and forth across her back as she led us through the large entry way and into a waiting room. Her clothes were modest yet seductive, a simple green silk dress that hid nothing of her figure, but still covered her skin. Once we were settled, she excused herself from the room and I waited to meet the man who owned the estate.
Anthony’s phone rang as we waited and he excused himself from the room to answer it. By the time he entered again, he had a forlorn expression on his face.
“I apologize for doing this to you, but as your Master, I must.”
My body instantly tensed and my heart fluttered in my chest. I was anxious about not knowing what was about to happen. Never having seen Anthony so concerned before, it scared me to think about what could cause his unease.
“We are in another man’s house, Pet, and also in his country. He has offered us his hospitality, but has asked for something in return.”
Understanding sat heavily on my thoughts. I knew exactly what the man had asked for: he wanted me.
After taking a deep, steadying breath, I nodded in acknowledgment of what he was telling me.
“What would you like me to wear for him?”
Anthony smiled with pride. “That’s a good girl.” Reaching down, he patted my cheek softly before grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. The beautiful woman returned and escorted me from the room, through the large house and to another room that served as a dressing area. After giving me clothes, she allowed me a moment to get ready.
I struggled to hook the tight red corset around my abdomen and breasts, but eventually I fastened hundreds of tiny buttons that ran up the front. There was no underwear in the set of clothes she gave me and I sighed heavily while sitting down on a chair to pull on the white silk stockings, fastening them in place with the clips that hung down from the corset. Taking one quick look in the mirror, I smoothed my hair back away from my face and rolled my shoulders back, intent on making Anthony proud.
He’d been so good to me that I actually felt a sense of desire to return to him a performance of which he could feel honored. I wanted to please him just for the simple fact that he’d done everything to please me. He’d been kind and gentle when I’d needed it, but seductive and strong when I was no longer an empty shell.
Stepping from the room, I followed the other courtesan through a maze like set of halls before she finally opened a door, motioning for me to go inside.
I wasn’t surprised to find that it was a playroom, however the different beds, large pillows and benches meant it was one intended for pleasure as opposed to pain. In the center of the room hung a large swing. I eyed it for a minute before crossing the threshold, wondering what it would be like to be suspended in the air.
“Please take a seat on the bed. I’m going to blindfold you and bind your arms and legs. Don’t be alarmed. I promise my Master will not hurt you. He is very good to us and loves beautiful women.” Her French accent was divine and I fell in love with her calm and demure mannerisms. I couldn’t quite understand what her Master would want with me when he had a woman as stunning as her.
She moved about the room silently, the motion of her body making her appear to float rather than walk. Returning to the bed with tethers and a silk scarf in her hand, she asked, “Will you please stand up? You’ll be bound to the posters of the footboard.”
I did as she asked and was left in the room blindfolded with my outstretched arms bound above my head and my feet held apart by a spreader bar. Before closing the door she turned on some soft instrumental music that was eventually joined by a female singer with the most soulful voice I’d ever heard.
Falling into an almost trance like state, I didn’t hear the door open. A hand caressed my breast and I cried out in shock at the sudden touch.
“Shhhhh….”
With his lips pressed to my ear, he shushed me in a deep and hypnotic voice. Except for that sound, he didn’t speak again.
Another hand slipped down beneath my legs, the fingers exploring the slick skin. I grew wet from my anticipation. All I could hear was the tranquil music in the background and his hands ran over my body, freeing me slowly of my corset. I breathed deeply once it was free. My arms pulled at the cuffs where they were bound when his mouth was on my breast, his teeth nipping softly at the hardening tip.
His other hand massaged my breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. With hips swaying out of instinct, I silently begged for him to touch me again.
Releasing my breast, he trailed his fingers down my stomach and the muscles of my abdomen twitched beneath his soft touch. Hooking his hand between my legs, he pressed down firmly on my clit, massaging the bundle of nerves with this thumb, while pushing two fingers up inside me. I cried out instantly, my head falling back as breathless moans rolled from my chest.
I felt the familiar sensation of my orgasm building inside me. Starting deep in my core, it blossomed out, heating my muscles and setting my nerves on edge. Every part of my body was hypersensitive because I never knew where he would touch next or how he would touch. His teeth granted bits of pain, but the bites were soothed instantly by his tongue. His hands were rough and gentle, gripping into the fleshy parts of me, before sliding softly across my skin.
My breath came in quick gasps, my heart beating frantically as the seductive tension inside grew to a point where I thought I would shatter apart. With skilled hands, he drove my body to a point of absolute need, the feeling so strong that it was painful as much as it was pleasurable.
Just as I crested the peak of an orgasm, he stopped, pulling away entirely and leaving me blind to where he stood in the room. The air that left my lungs rushed out of me on a single, solid breath and I felt empty as a result of it.
“Would you like to fly?”
I jumped and cried out, not expecting him to be so close that he could whisper in my ear. My body trembled and the chains to the cuffs hit against the posts of the bed. He chuckled as he released my arms, picking me up and carrying across the room to position me in the swing.
Smiling, I allowed him to bind my hands to the swing and attach the spreader bar so that my legs w
ere pulled up above. I lay against the swing, allowing my head to fall back. His mouth fell hot and heavy between my legs and his tongue worked me to a point of frenzy. With his hands, he stilled my trembling legs, bringing me back to the beginnings of my release.
Then he was gone again, but only for a few seconds. When he touched me again, it was to grab the backs of my thighs and position the head of his cock at the opening of my body. I trembled, writhing my hips in desperation for him to push inside.
I couldn’t take anymore and I begged for him to finish. “Please…”
He chuckled, releasing one of my thighs to reach up and pull away my blindfold. I didn’t open my eyes at first, didn’t want to ruin what I was feeling by seeing the man that was driving me so quickly to ecstasy. Curiosity, as usual, got the better of me.
Lifting my head up, I peered out from beneath the fall of my lashes and my heart stopped, my thoughts raced, and my lungs refused to take another breath.
He pushed inside just then, when my body was paralyzed in shock. I didn’t want to look away, but I couldn’t help my body’s reaction to him. My head fell back once more and he moved the swing, positioning himself perfectly so that I slid over his length, the muscles at my core gripping and rippling over every inch of him.
I came quickly, not caring how loud my screams were. Tears broke free of my eyes and sobs erupted in my chest. I couldn’t help but cry. The emotion inside me was too much.
When he had his own release, he pulled out of me before freeing the spreader bar from where it was hooked, removing it from my ankles altogether, then freeing my arms. Lifting me up, he wiped the tears from my eyes, the green in his own sparkling with mischief and elation.
“Hello Pet. I’ve missed you.”
I reached up, cupping his cheeks in my hands, feeling his skin to see if he was really there. I’d lost my damn mind. It couldn’t have been him, I thought I was delusional, but the heat of his body warmed the palms of my hands and I knew he was standing there…alive.
On a trembling breath, I finally broke the tense silence between us.
“Oh my god…Holland.”
Epilogue
Aiden
I am a Master…
…and I am, in no way, a good man.
I will not change and I will never appease the masses by finally developing some sense of morality.
That is not who I am.
Money is what is most important to me and beneath that is control. I control all things: the women I train and the owners to whom they are later sold.
That is the part of my role that you didn’t understand. You see, this story was never about training Holland or even Claire for that matter. It was about gaining control of one particular owner who, years prior, had attempted to deceive me.
It’s horrible to admit, but the pain, the heartache, the abuse and the anguish of everybody involved was nothing more than a means to a very satisfying end.
Gail Carlisle was that end…and he is now buried beneath the willow tree outside my office window next to his son.
I’ve always hated him and if it hadn’t been for the amount of money I made off him, I wouldn’t have worked with him. The man was wealthy and stupid with his money, always willing to pay a higher price because I demanded it.
I still hated him.
As did Rebecca.
You can imagine how it felt to learn that he’d abused the poor, innocent girl when she wasn’t even old enough to defend herself. He’d plotted with his teenage son, Trenton, to play with her heart, to strip her of her innocence and to use her foolish decision in trusting his son to torture and torment her for years. I believe that, in a roundabout way, Gail was the reason for Rebecca’s mindset when I met her; welcoming of the abuse, but never able to fully submit. She enjoys receiving pain almost as much as she enjoys inflicting it. The terror of what he and his son did to her fractured her psyche long before she ever met me.
For that, I hated him more.
When Gail first approached me about training Holland, I’d initially refused. However, upon further consideration, I realized that there would come a day when Gail would attempt to deceive me again. I knew I would be able to use that deception as an excuse to end his life. In essence, I was keeping my enemy close in order to catch him and expose him for what he was.
It was a shot in the dark, I must admit, but it worked. He is now dead and I am once again a wealthier man…because it all comes down to money.
As for Holland, I grew to like the kid while training him. He would never be a great Master and given his part in the deception committed by his stepfather, he would never again be an active member in the society. I never intended to kill him, simply because he’d agreed to assist me in the death of his stepfather. Only he and I knew the truth the entire time and we’d orchestrated the conversation about Claire’s order that day in my office in order to fool Rebecca.
Nobody could know what we were doing because it was of the upmost importance to fool Claire. She wasn’t an easy target and for that, we had to operate under the assumption that anybody could ruin our plan.
After deciding on the woman that he couldn’t resist owning, Holland convinced Gail to order a woman matching Claire’s description. Gail had no problem breaking the rules of the society for a man he believed would later be his own personal Master, one he could use to abduct and train woman who would be kept off the society’s radar. You see, that was the one thing I always hated about Gail. I could read him like an open book and I knew that, someday, he would take his perversions too far, potentially leaving a trail of bodies that led right to the society’s front door. Why else would he be so intent that one of his sons become a Master, if not for a growing need to gain women who couldn’t be tracked?
As for Claire…well…that was an example of training at its finest. Both Holland and I knew she would be difficult, if not impossible, to break down and rebuild into a courtesan. She was too smart to fall for the mind games we normally played that led a woman into believing the life we gave her was the one she actually wanted.
Claire knew the symptoms of psychological abuse, she knew the tricks that abductors used, she was aware of how separation from the world and small bits of torment mixed with kindness could slowly lead a person from resistance in their submission to becoming the perfect whore.
She listed those steps during the lecture in her class…and yet, they still worked against her.
I’ll admit that Holland and I had to get creative. We had to rip her world apart and rebuild it so many times that it was impossible for her trace her memory back to who she’d been before. Really, it wasn’t a brilliant new method that we’d thought up. It was simply a game of good cop and bad cop.
We started slow at first, small bits of kindness on Holland’s part that counteracted my abuse. Eventually, he revealed personal details about himself. He planted the seed in Claire’s head that he could be another potential victim of the same monster and I cemented that belief in Claire’s head by abusing him as well. Once she believed they were united in their victimization, it was time to separate them.
Holland wasn’t aware that I would do that, but it was necessary that he become as fearful and downtrodden as Claire. It was the only way she’d believe him because she was smart enough to tell if he was lying. However, I decided to keep him in the dark about the remainder of the events just because I thought it was amusing. I won’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy the constant look of suspicion and surprise on his face.
I am a Master. I manipulate every person, every situation and every thing. It is what I do… even Holland was not immune.
By sending Rebecca away, I was able to utilize the uninterrupted time to torture Claire into giving up what she thought were their secrets.
Poor girl. She carried the guilt of betraying Holland only to be led into carrying the guilt of causing his death. I think that might have been the final straw, the thing that fractured her entirely and readied her to be rebuilt. Once she be
lieved she was the cause for Holland’s death, she hated herself enough to let go of the personality she’d so rigidly held onto. I separated her from herself by creating animosity within her against herself.
Anthony was a good Master to choose for the next part of her training. His soft hand and gentle mannerisms were enough to gain her trust while at the same time rebuilding her into exactly who she needed to be. A woman’s psyche is a fragile thing and needs to be handled with care in order to keep from shattering it completely. His home served as a refuge of sorts, a place where she could recover from the trauma I’d inflicted and accept her new life without being broken apart completely.
Once that task was accomplished, she was returned to Holland; fully trained and without the concern that she would one day escape and potentially expose the society.
So you see, everything I do serves a purpose and every move I make is calculated to lead to a specific end. Holland was stripped from a society in which he didn’t belong. Rebecca learned to respect my rules by her time with Edward. The week she was gone also provided me the opportunity and freedom to break Claire apart so many times that it was impossible for her to put the pieces back together.
In the end, it was a winning situation for everybody involved, despite the pain they had to endure for me to play it out fully.
Rebecca got her revenge against Gail Carlisle.
Holland got his Courtesan.
Claire was none the wiser about Holland’s part. She was delivered into a life of love and luxury…
…and I got the amusement and satisfaction of orchestrating the entire thing.
All in all, the process was a learning experience for me because Claire was not only her Master’s teacher, but due to the difficulty of training her…
