Courtesan

by S. C. Daiko

  I whimper. Desire and dread course through me.

  He pulls out and my hole clasps shut. Then I feel the smooth slick point of the plug. ‘This isn’t any larger than my fingers. Relax, keep your hands to your sides, and I’ll make it perfect for you.’

  He eases the ginger into me, stretching and filling me, driving it deeper and deeper. ‘Nearly there.’

  ‘Ow…’

  ‘Hush, almost in…’

  ‘I don’t think I can take any more. It burns. It really burns.’ But I don’t tell him to stop. Why? Because, at the same time I want it. That’s why.

  ‘There. You’ve done it.’ A sudden easing tells me it’s fully inserted. I tense the muscles of my pelvis, feeling full, dense. The ginger is hot and both my arse and sheath are on fire. I groan, closing my eyes, the pain heating my desire. I want to climax, I want release.

  Justinian has moved around to the front of me. He kisses my forehead. ‘Do you need to say anything?’ I open my eyes. ‘Say it if you need to. I don’t want to push you too far.’

  ‘I do… need to say… something.’ A fleeting glimpse of disappointment crosses his face.

  ‘Say it,’ he whispers.

  I swallow and take in a deep breath. ‘Fuck me. Fuck me now… sir.’

  He breaks into a smile. ‘With pleasure.’

  Then he’s behind me, gripping my hips, lining up his cock with my quim and forging in.

  I’m bumped up against the headboard. His balls slap my cunny lips and my clit rubs against the mattress. I give a squeal. His cock feels so big inside and the sensation as it presses on the wall of my sheath and nudges the ginger is sublime.

  ‘You like that,’ he grunts, withdrawing and thrusting, withdrawing and thrusting.

  ‘Yes… oh yes, sir…’

  He holds me tight, his stomach muscles slamming onto the base of the plug with each thrust. I’ve surrendered myself to it and a climax is racing my way. It’s beyond my control. Justinian is in command. I pant and struggle to catch my breath. The orgasm has arrived. My legs tremble, my breasts push into the blankets, my whole body shakes.

  ‘Break, Theodora, break!’ He delivers a sudden sharp slap to my right buttock and tips me over the edge. I’m flying, my skin burning, my quim ejaculating.

  ‘Yes, oh God, Theo, yes, squeeze me with your cunt like that.’

  He pumps into me, his hotness spilling into me, and I let out a ragged sob as another spasm seizes me. He thrusts and thrusts, his cock swimming in my juices. ‘Justinian!’ I shout his name in my joy.

  He withdraws and turns me to face him, raining kisses down my face. ‘Are you all right, Theo?’

  ‘That was incredible.’ I slip my hands around his waist and rest my cheek on his chest.

  He kisses the top of my head. ‘We are perfect together.’ His softening cock presses on my belly.

  ‘We are.’ I pause. ‘The plug?’

  ‘I want you to keep it in. I’ll make you a new one every day, each a little wider than the last. I want you to use it. After a while, you’ll be ready for me to claim that final part of your delicious body and make you mine.’

  He’s warm and solid, his embrace comforting. I can’t remember ever feeling this satisfied. And I’m really starting to trust him. A drifting sensation comes over me, and my thoughts float. Somewhere between slumber and awake, I’m aware of Justinian kissing me on my forehead. ‘I love you,’ he whispers. I’m too lost in Morpheus to reply and I’m not even sure if what I heard was reality. Dreams are chasing me, the detached feeling lifting me higher and higher into the night.

  VI

  Early sunshine slants through the open window, high in the bedroom wall. This is the eighth morning in succession that Justinian has woken with Theo in his bed. He feels the touch of her breath and the softness of her hair upon his skin. She’s still asleep. His arm is around her waist, and his leg wrapped over both of hers. He twists a lock of her hair around his finger, lifts it to his nose, and inhales the scent of jasmine. The heady perfume suits her well and he’s made sure she has an abundant supply.

  He’d like to wake her and fuck her, but they’ve agreed that the mornings are too public, what with slaves and eunuchs bustling about. Their nights, on the other hand, belong to them alone. And every night for the past week, Theodora has let him insert an ever-thicker plug of ginger root into her arsehole and spank her until her buttocks turn scarlet. She’s been wonderful. He holds her close, careful not to wake her. Tonight, after he’s presented her to his uncle and aunt, he’ll make that most intimate part of her body his. His balls tighten in expectation.

  Theo’s dark eyelashes flutter and she mumbles something unintelligible. Of what does she dream? He’s never spent entire nights with a woman before. Not even Macedonia...

  A wave of wonder wells up within him. He loves Theo. He really loves her. Deeply and desperately. An intoxicating feeling of desire and exhilaration and the need to cherish and protect her. Does she love him? He shouldn’t have whispered his feelings to her the other night. Too soon. It was just that she’d been so delightful, so giving, so brave. After everything that’s transpired in Theodora’s past, her submission is indicative of strength, not weakness. And he needs a strong woman by his side. But he must proceed with caution, with a delicate balance of give and take. He’ll not allow himself to descend into darkness like he did with Macedonia.

  Theo reminds him of a beautiful wounded bird. He knows what happened to her before she came to him; and that dreadful experience has made her wary of men. He’s not like other men, though. Far from it. She’s learning to trust him, he can see that in her surrender; it’s as if he’s coaxed her to eat from his hand. But if he pushes her too quick and too far, like a bird, she’ll peck and claw and fly away.

  He watches her breasts rising and falling, rising and falling. How is it that she can lose herself to slumber so intensely? He seldom sleeps more than a few hours at the best of times. And lately, with thoughts of Theodora churning in his head, his mind whirling with plans for her, he sleeps even less. Is he being hasty introducing her to the Emperor and Empress? But he’s kept her cloistered too long, with only her sister and friends from the theatre as company as they practise their performances for his celebrations. Theo’s organisational skills are excellent, and he’s immensely proud of what she’s accomplished thus far. He knows he’ll be prouder still of how she’ll conduct herself at Court.

  He draws his arms around her again, and, breathing in her wondrous scent, presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. ‘Sleep on, my sweet.’ He’ll leave her to the ministrations of her slaves, who will bring her breakfast, bathe her, pamper her and dress her before she starts work. He, too, has work to do. He and Narses have a meeting with Cappadocian John. Those bloody taxes! And then they need to watch a military exercise beyond the city walls. The army has to be brought up to scratch if his plans to reconquer Italy are to succeed.

  ***

  Justinian stands with Theodora at the entrance to the Hall of the Nineteen Couches in the Imperial Palace. The place where receptions are held. He wipes a hand across his brow as he remembers the gruesome event two years ago, when blood splattered the white pillars ranged along the walls. The marble heads of emperors long gone to dust watch sightlessly now as they did that night, the night when Vitalian was done to death for the sake of the Empire.

  This evening the Emperor and his wife, Empress Euphemia, sit on golden chairs raised on a dais at the other end of the long room. Justinian steals a glance at Theodora. She’s wearing a figure-hugging dress made of green silk with gilt brocade around the hem; the heavy gold chain he gave her sets if off beautifully. Two long pins studded with emeralds skewer her gleaming coil of ebony hair. ‘You look enchanting,’ he whispers, squeezing her hand.

  Holding her head high, Theo walks with him across the mosaic floor until they’re standing in front of Their Majesties. She prostrates herself, her forehead touching the tiles by Justinian’s feet. He gives a brief bow and w
aits for his uncle to order her to stand.

  The Emperor waves a hand, ‘Rise, girl.’

  ‘This is Theodora, Uncle. She’s helping me organise my celebrations.’

  The Emperor nods. ‘I remember seeing you perform in the theatre, my dear.’ He laughs. ‘You were extraordinary.’

  ‘Thank you, Your Majesty. It’s very kind of you to say so.’

  Justinian glances at his aunt. She outshines every other person in the room with the sheer number of jewels – all rubies – attached to her tiny frame. Her face, which has always reminded him of a woodpecker’s, looks as if she’s swallowed a mouthful of sour milk. The set of her head, together with pursed lips and staring eyes, conveys outraged disdain. Contemptuous silence reigns.

  Bitch!

  Justinian squeezes Theo’s fingers. ‘Come, let me introduce you to Belisarius and his wife Antonina.’

  He’s already told Theodora about the General, a fine specimen of the old Empire as he likes to think of him, the kind of Roman he kept in mind when he talked to her, at length, about his plans for the new forms of government, law and architecture that might renew the Empire’s pride. About how he’ll use Belisarius to reconquer Italy and wrest it back from the barbarians. Belisarius’ wife Antonina, ten years his senior at least, is one of the most forthright women Justinian has ever met. But, underneath her blunt manner, lies a heart of gold.

  Antonina claps her hands. ‘Finally, I get to meet your secret lover. You’ve kept her out of sight far too long, sir. We always thought you preferred men to women.’

  Justinian smiles indulgently; he’s been happy to let the Court believe he was a sodomite. It stopped them from trying to marry him off to one of the simpering patrician women who make up Euphemia’s entourage.

  ‘Antonina was once a dancer like you, Theo,’ he says.

  ‘I only ever worked privately,’ Antonina tosses her henna-dyed hair, crows’ feet crinkling the corners of her eyes. ‘Which means Euphemia has no gossip to fuel her disdain.’

  Theodora sighs. ‘The Empress completely ignored me.’

  Justinian puts an arm around her. ‘Take no notice, my sweet. She has no real power.’ She has power over the Emperor, though. ‘The one to please is my uncle, and I think he liked you.’ But not enough to go against his pig of a wife. ‘The Empress can’t have you sent away. You’re here to stay.’ That much is true. So fucking true.

  ***

  After a sumptuous banquet of saffron-flavoured seafood soup with plump mussels and baby octopi; lamb’s tongues stewed with apples, chestnuts and rosemary; a smoked haunch of wild boar studded with dates; roast peacocks marinated in sweet wine, stuffed with forcemeat, onions and garlic, served with a savoury fish sauce; jewel-like jellies wobbling amid fresh fruits; figs simmered in honey and served with fresh cream; fat golden cheeses; and the best wine, he takes Theodora back to his quarters.

  Here the scent of jasmine doesn’t just emanate from the lovely woman by his side, but also from plants trailing from huge urns dotted about the place, installed at her insistence.

  She removes her sandals and reclines on the bedroom couch with him, facing him, her small feet tucked next to his. ‘I’m glad I only ate a few mouthfuls of each course. So much food! I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  He lifts her foot to his mouth, and kisses her toes.

  ‘That tickles,’ she giggles. ‘Tell me more about Antonina.’

  ‘She was a widow when Belisarius met her. Antonina always maintained she was a good wife to her first husband. Said she’d remained virginal throughout her few years as a dancer. If Belisarius had wanted to marry her later, when he’d been promoted through the ranks, it would have been a different matter. You know the law prevents such marriages?’

  Theodora frowns, briefly. Then, a nudge from that delicious foot. ‘Please tell me about Macedonia.’

  ‘So many questions tonight! Macedonia and I met secretly for many years. She was a courtesan, and I was her exclusive patron. She was a natural submissive and loved pain. And I grew to love inflicting it.’

  ‘Oh? I’m interested as to why that could be.’

  ‘I had a hard upbringing, Theo. My stepfather flogged me to within an inch of my life. It was thanks to my uncle sending for me that I was saved both from him and from myself. I suppose that experience has stayed with me.’

  ‘I see.’ Theo fiddles with the hem of her dress. ‘What happened with Macedonia?’

  ‘One day, she and I got carried away. Macedonia goaded me to escalate the punishments. It was as if I’d reversed roles with my stepfather and was whipping him. There’s a darkness in me, you see, Theo. I’ve learnt to keep it under control. But that day, with Macedonia, it came unbidden to the fore.’

  ‘But you didn’t…’

  ‘Kill her? No. Thank God. She should have told me to stop. I’ve asked myself again and again why I didn’t do so of my own accord. The thing is, she really liked to be whipped and I became a master at doing it, always able to strike a new spot so her skin could heal properly. That day, I carried on when there were no fresh places left on her body to strike. I’ll spare you the details, my sweet. I’ll never lose control like that with you, I swear.’

  ‘I know you won’t, sir. Because I won’t let you.’

  ‘Good.’ He looks her in the eye and she returns his gaze, her regard steady.

  ‘Where is Macedonia now?’ she asks.

  ‘Living in a luxurious villa I bought for her in the countryside with slaves to cater to her every whim. She’s happy enough.’

  Theo nods and he catches something in her expression. Something he can’t read. ‘You’ve liked what I’ve done to you so far, my sweet, haven’t you?’

  She licks her lips. ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘Good. That has been my aim. I want you to trust me fully. And, in order for you to do that, I need you to surrender to me completely. Do you see?’

  She nods again. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Excellent. And remember, you must tell me to stop if I push you too far.’

  ‘I shall. You need have no concerns on that score.’

  He takes her hand, squeezes it gently. ‘Do you trust me, Theodora?’

  ‘I’m starting to trust you.’

  ‘I can see that. Starting is good, but I need more from you. Only your absolute capitulation will bring you true happiness. Remember when you gave yourself to God?’

  She looks thoughtful. ‘The peace that came upon me was beyond all understanding.’

  ‘You trust in Him. Now I want you to trust in me.’

  ‘He is my master in Heaven, fully divine. And you would be my master on Earth, fully human yet just as divine?’

  Her words make him laugh, and the sparkle in her eyes races his heart. ‘An interesting analogy.’ He takes hold of her foot again, and lifts it to his lips.

  ‘I’ve always been my own mistress.’ Her brow puckers. ‘When I was a courtesan I was good at what I did.’

  ‘Of that I’ve no doubt, but did it bring you joy?’

  She pauses in thought. ‘I gave joy to my patrons.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked.’

  ‘Then, no. It did not bring me joy. Not like with you.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. And what joy would you like from me now?’

  She parts her legs. ‘Your beautiful lips on my quim would be nice.’

  His cock gives a pleasurable twitch. ‘And what will you give me in return?’

  She smiles. ‘I believe the ginger has done its work.’

  ***

  We stand and face each other. Justinian pulls my dress over my head and tosses it onto the couch. I’m already stepping out of my undergarment, my pink nipples prickling in anticipation, my body craving his.

  What he’s just told me about Macedonia should worry me. But it doesn’t. I want his darkness, I realise that now. I want it to swallow me whole.

  He points to the bed. ‘Lie down, and I’ll tie you to the posts. The cords will make su
rrender easier for you.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And remember, Theodora. You must tell me to stop if it all gets too much for you.’

  ‘I promise, sir.’

  I lie on the bed and he kneels next to me. Sucking a nipple into his mouth, he takes it between his teeth and bites down, sending a delightful jolt to my warming quim. His fingers slide between my wet folds and find my clit. He flicks it, hard, and I let out a yelp. Dear Lord, it feels so good.

  ‘I’m going to open you with my hands, Theo, and then I’m going to eat your delicious cunt.’

  I make a mewling sound, pulling against my bonds as he gets between my splayed legs. I can’t wait to feel his tongue inside me.

  He flicks my clit again. ‘Your beautiful bud is all swollen and red.’ He slips one finger inside, then two… three… four. Oh, sweet Jesus. My hips lift and I feel moisture trickling into my arse-crack. He pulls out, his fingers making a squelching sound. Oh God, I want more.

  ‘Please, sir. I beg you.’

  ‘Too soon, Theodora.’

  He spreads my folds and brings his mouth down: lips and tongue all over my gaping flesh. He latches onto my throbbing clit and catches it between his teeth. My whole body jerks, but I don’t tell him to stop. I want him desperately. And now he’s nibbling at my cunny lips, then drinking from my sheath, sucking from the fountain of my fluids. Oh, sweet Lord!

  I rock against his face, pushing myself onto him, my quim milking him. ‘Sir, I really want to climax.’

  ‘Not yet.’ And he moves away to untie my cords.

  I let out a whimper of frustration.

  ‘Get up, Theodora. Keep your feet on the floor. Spread them wide and I’ll shackle them to the sides of the bed. Place your hands together, so that I can tie them.’ He kisses me on the mouth, and I taste the musk of my juices on his lips.