Tales of the Odalisque

by Josie Litton

  Except that the thought of him surrounded by nubile beauties falling all over themselves to please him rankled. He was far too indulged, that was the problem. Or perhaps not because, in all honesty, he had an air about him of a man who had known his share of trials and tribulations.

  He was confusing, that at least was for certain. He left her feeling all at sea. She would be over it, of course, once she was away from him. That couldn’t happen soon enough. Never mind the hollow ache inside her. The sooner she was free of everything he made her feel, the better.

  But first, there were a few last hours to get through.

  They began pleasantly enough. The abbess had arranged an early supper before their final preparations. It was served in the parlor where the virgins gathered along with Miss Sheridan to hug, shed a few tears and promise to stay in touch.

  “Feel free to be in contact with me,” Arabella said. “I’ll be happy to put you all in touch with each other. And then, of course, you’ll be invited to next year’s reunion.”

  “There are reunions?” Kathleen asked.

  The abbess’ confirmation was greeted with squeals of delight and even a bit of bouncing up and down. Natalia’s reaction was far more muted, although she did manage a smile. She couldn’t help envying the others just a little, going off to fulfill their dreams and with the prospect of being together as friends in the future.

  Her own path was considerably more precarious.

  Preoccupied with such thoughts, she was paying less than full attention when Arabella hugged them all once again before sending them off for their final preparations. In the private treatment room, Natalia lay face down on the padded couch as the aesthetician directed. Following instructions, she closed her eyes and did her best to relax.

  Music was playing softly. She smelled something pleasant--eucalyptus and jasmine with an underlying note that she couldn’t identify. Massages had not figured in her life prior to coming to the abbey but now she was beginning to get used to them. Certainly, it was pleasant to have the tension eased out of her muscles. She might even have dozed off a little, only to wake with a start when she realized that the masseuse was rubbing a gel into her perineum, the region between her cunt and her ass.

  “What--?” Natalia murmured.

  The only response was a soft request to turn over onto her back.

  With no clear reason not to do so, she complied. Again, the masseuse worked her magic. Natalia was drifting off once more when she realized that a second aesthetician had come into the room. Together, they set about relaxing the tension in her legs and arms.

  She was all but limp when she became aware of a tingling heat growing where the gel had been applied to her bottom. Before she had even begun to focus on that, she realized that more of the substance was being massaged into her nipples.

  “Wait,” she said, alarmed, “what are you doing?”

  The murmured response passed in a blur as the effect of the substance swiftly began to take hold. Staring down at herself, Natalia was startled to see how hard and extended her nipples were becoming as the masseuses rolled them between their gloved fingers, twisting and stretching them. Very quickly, they looked like large ripe berries and ached fiercely.

  But that was hardly the worst of it. Having gently raised and bent her legs, the women began applying the gel to her labia and clit. As they worked, they whispered to each other in a language she couldn’t make out, and laughed softly.

  She wanted to tell them to stop but the words wouldn’t come. Her clit throbbed, every inch of her skin felt hypersensitive and to her shame, she could feel herself becoming wet.

  By the time the masseuses had finished and helped her to her feet, she was enveloped in a haze of sexual arousal. That only deepened as, murmuring to her soothingly, they began to dress her.

  Staring at herself in a full-length mirror, Natalia watched as the women draped a garment, if it could even be called that, over her. Comprised of gossamer thin gold body chains, it extended only as far as her upper thighs and concealed nothing. The globes of her breasts were clearly visible while her swollen nipples stuck out prominently between strands of chain.

  Several of those strands were drawn between her legs and used to separate her outer labia, leaving her engorged clit fully exposed in the gap between her thighs. Her gasp of dismay was ignored by the women, who led her from the treatment room. With every step she took, she was vividly aware of the hot, slick liquid soaking her inner thighs and dripping farther down her legs. When added to the pressure on her labia, her clit and her straining nipples, she felt transformed into a creature of pure carnality.

  Fear darted through her. She had to get control of herself so that when the time came, she could make her escape. But the closer she came to the antechamber where the virgins were to wait before being presented at the auction, the more helpless she felt.

  It was all she could do to wonder if the others were in the same state that she was and what effect that would have on a roomful of lustful men.

  As it happened, she wasn’t to find out. The abbess was waiting for her. She dismissed the women, smiled at Natalia and with a hand on her elbow, guided her farther down the hall.

  Her voice seemed to come from a great distance as she said, “I told Lucius not to have them use so much but never mind. You’re to have a private viewing.”

  As dazed as she was, Natalia could barely understand what Arabella was saying. She wanted to ask but before she could do so, the abbess guided her into a small chamber.

  Her parting words, just before she shut the door, were, “Just do as you’re told and everything will be fine.”

  Even in her befuddled state, Natalia knew better than to believe that. Left alone, she looked around slowly. The room was small but furnished luxuriously with a sleigh bed tucked along one side and a tufted loveseat in the center. However, none of that could hold her attention. She was too absorbed staring at the murals that covered all the walls and the ceiling. They created the impression of being outside in a beautiful garden beneath a cloudless sky. But the view was not unimpeded. It could be seen only through what appeared to be gold bars set at narrow intervals and curving upward to create a domed roof.

  In the grip of torturous arousal, Natalia was startled to realize that she had stepped into a gilded cage.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The crackle of a sound system jolted her.

  “Turn around,” a distorted voice said. “Face the mirror.”

  Slowly, Natalia obeyed. She felt at once in her body yet separated from it, almost as though she was both a participant and an observer. The sensation, strange as it was, had the effect of calming her.

  Staring at the mirror that covered one wall of the room, she was reminded of the abbess’ parlor.

  Who was on the other side? How many men were looking at her? A private viewing, Arabella had said. Natalia had no idea what that meant beyond the fact that she was separated from the other girls, who might at least have offered moral support.

  As it was, she was alone except for the voice.

  “How are you feeling, Natalia?”

  She spoke without thinking. “Good…” How could she not be when all her senses were awash in arousal? The fear--and anger--biting at the back of her mind seemed inconsequential by comparison.

  Her interrogator chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that. You’re going to feel even better, so long as you do exactly as I say. Do you understand that, Natalia?”

  “Hmmm,” she murmured, her head falling back as a coiling wave of desire washed over her.

  “Touch yourself. Put your palms over your breasts. Rub them against your nipples.”

  That was wrong, she shouldn’t do that. She had to get away, had to--

  But her nipples were so incredibly sensitive and it felt good to do as he said. She needed this so badly…

  “Good,” the voice said. “Now, take those gorgeous nipples between your fingers and pull on them. Let’s see just how long they can
get.”

  Pleasure shot through her as she obeyed. She was so hot…so wet… If she could just come--

  “Stop.”

  Startled, she did as he said.

  “Look down at yourself, Natalia. Imagine those gorgeous teats pierced, a gold barbell through each of them. Think of how that would feel.”

  A soft moan broke from her.

  “Good girl, now sit down on the couch, put your feet up on the edge and open your legs wide. Show off that pretty pussy.”

  Embarrassment flooded her but her body had taken on a will of its own. Even as her mind balked, she obeyed.

  “You’re so beautiful, Natalia, and so incredibly fuckable. You know that, don’t you?”

  A low moan escaped her. She wanted to be fucked…oh, god, she needed to be. But she couldn’t think. Nothing existed except hot, remorseless arousal.

  “Touch your pussy, Natalia. Spread those pink, glistening lips wider and play with yourself. But,” the voice warned, “don’t touch your clit, not yet.”

  Her head arched against the back of the couch. Hot, silky juices coated her fingers. The slightest pressure brought her even closer to the brink.

  Her hips were writhing, she couldn’t stay still. Hardly aware of what she was doing, her other hand strayed to her breast and pulled again on the distended nipple. She felt the tug all the way to her cunt where muscles tightened in response.

  “Damn…” the voice murmured in awed appreciation.

  Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. So close…

  “Look in the mirror, Natalia. See what you are. A gorgeous cunt yearning to be fucked. That pearly juice oozing out of you, dripping down your ass, should be all over a thick, long cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Oh, god, yes!” The mere thought of Lucius’ cock stretching her, his big, hard body over hers, filling her--

  She couldn’t stand this. She was going to come--

  “Stop.”

  What? No!

  “If you don’t, I’ll put one of those devilish new devices that you’ve already experienced on to your clit. All those writhing little tentacles will latch on and suck, lick, stroke and squeeze non-stop, just enough to keep you right on the edge but no further. Imagine how that will feel.”

  It would drive her mad; she would never survive it.

  Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes as, once again, she obeyed him.

  “That’s better,” he said. A moment’s pause and then, “I really hadn’t meant to drag this out but I’m finding it perversely pleasant to torment you.”

  She had fallen into the clutches of the devil. She’d suspected it all along and now she was certain.

  “Taste yourself, Natalia. Suck on those lovely wet fingers.”

  Shame suffused her but the temptation was simply too much to resist. Salt and musk, the essence of herself, slipped over her tongue.

  “Very good,” he murmured. “Obedience gets rewarded. Go ahead and touch your clit. I’ll give you one minute to make yourself come.”

  That would be enough, it had to be. She was so close---

  “Forty seconds…”

  Oh, god, she was right on the edge. So close…

  “Twenty.”

  She felt herself teetering, her orgasm about to break…

  “Time’s up. Stop.”

  Gasping, she hesitated.

  “Perhaps you’d rather be locked away in a chastity belt, your clit permanently out of reach, your cunt unfilled. Your mouth and ass would still be available so you could be fucked endlessly but you’d never come. What an unfortunate fate.”

  She stopped.

  “Very good, Natalia. Do as you’re told and you’ll get another chance. Stand up.”

  Her legs were shaking so badly that she wasn’t sure she would be able to but finally she managed to steady herself.

  “Do you see that saddle bench near you? Go over to it.”

  Blinking, she looked around and saw what she had failed to notice before. The polished wooden bench was the kind found in the tack rooms of the most luxurious stables. On it was a saddle in the English style, made of supple, chestnut-hued leather fitted with stainless steel stirrups.

  “Straddle it, Natalia. Rest that exquisite ass in the seat and put your feet in the stirrups…. That’s it, good. Now bend forward and press that dripping cunt of yours against the pommel, move back and forth on it.”

  Her breasts bobbed as she obeyed, feeling at once humiliated and aroused beyond measure. If he would only let her come--

  “Play with your clit, Natalia, stroke and squeeze it. Do that properly and this time, I’ll let you come.”

  With that insidious incentive driving her, she did as he said. Her knees were thrust upward by the stirrups, her legs spread wide. She felt the pressure of the saddle all along her perineum, the entrance to her vagina and further where the gel had made her so acutely sensitive.

  All that goaded her on as her head fell back, her eyes closed, her fingers moving swiftly over the hot, swollen bud…

  Her release, when it came at last, arched from her clit along her spine to explode deep within her brain. Her entire body was rocked by tremors that would not stop. She screamed, the sound torn from her. Helpless to prevent it, she slid from the saddle onto the soft rug covering the floor. Even then, as she lay barely conscious, her cunt continued to spasm.

  She was only dimly aware of someone entering her gilded cage and gathering her up. Wrapped in meltingly soft fur, held in powerful arms, Natalia was carried into the night.

  Chapter Twenty

  Staring down at the woman asleep in his arms, Lucius found himself recalling the old phrase, inscrutable to the modern ear, ‘hoisted on one’s own petard’. It was one of Zhao Feng’s favorites, trotted out whenever a lesson was called for on the perils of having a bomb--the petard--of one’s own devising go off in one’s face.

  Metaphorically, of course. Zhao Feng never stooped to anything so pedestrian as mere explosives. He was, however, a great believer in careful planning. He wanted his sons--foster and otherwise--to learn that lesson well.

  Lucius had; he had planned, he had executed with precision, everything had gone perfectly. And now here he was with an epic case of blue balls--ticking twin time bombs of his very own--as the reward for his trouble.

  How many women had he known in his life? Not as many as some would assume given his line of work but certainly more than his fair share. How many others had he seen who were so dazzling, so sensual that men pursued them madly and laid fortunes at their feet? Hundreds, at the very least.

  But none--not a single one--came anywhere close to Natalia. He would go to his grave with the vision of her humping that damn saddle emblazoned on his mind. With any luck, it would be his final thought. Good thing his proper Chinese family would see to it that he was cremated; otherwise, he would spend eternity grinning like an addled fool.

  And yet for all that, a part of him believed that she deserved what he had done to her. Anyone else who had lied her way into the Odalisque, broken into his office and attempted to steal confidential information would have paid a far steeper price.

  Besides, he could simply have turned her over to Adrian and the tender mercies of British Intelligence. Compared to that, she had nothing at all to complain about.

  Really, when he thought of it that way, he could almost convince himself that he was doing her a favor. Seventy-two hours of the captivity he had planned for her would assure that she told him everything he wanted to know and probably more.

  After that… He would have to see.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Lying on her back, Natalia stared at the dragon leering down at her. It was a Chinese dragon, serpentine and without wings. She couldn’t tell if it was smiling or preparing to belch fire.

  Only gradually did she realize that it wasn’t a dragon at all, not a real one at any rate. It was a carving that covered most of the ceiling in the Mandarin-style enclosed bed where she had awaken
ed.

  She had never seen such a bed before, much less been in one. But she had read about them, enough to know that they were very rare and expensive, passed down in families from one generation to the next. More than a single piece of furniture, it was really a small, portable room, In addition to the bed itself, she could make out an ornately carved chair and a lacquer chest. Lattice windows draped in silk and an open archway looked out onto a much larger, shadowy space.

  Tempted though she was to close her eyes again, something prodded her to awareness. Echoes of a strange, dark pleasure still coursing through her--

  Memory returned in a rush. The auction! The gilded cage. That tormenting voice…

  Abruptly she sat up and swung her legs off the side of the bed. Standing, she swayed a little and had to grab onto the side. Pleasantly warm air wafted over her skin, calling attention to her nakedness. The absence of the chain tunic, or whatever it could be called, was a relief. But it didn’t change the fact that her cunt was still swollen and acutely sensitive while her nipples remained hard and aching.

  At least the worst effects of the gel had worn off even though the results of it lingered. Her cheeks burned as she recalled what she had been made to do. Embarrassment gave way swiftly to anger.

  She had been drugged, robbed of her reason, debased into a creature of purely carnal appetites and made to perform for the twisted pleasure of--

  Lucius Belmont! It had to have been him. Who else would have known about those horrible little sucker devices?

  He had done this to her because…he simply could or because he really hadn’t believed her explanation for being in his office?

  Not that it mattered. In either case, she had to get away at once. Which raised the question: Where was she?

  She was heading toward one of the high windows, determined to get a look outside, when a voice stopped her.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Whirling, she only just managed to stop the silk comforter from slipping off.

  The devil was sitting in a high-backed chair made of dark, carved ebony. Incongruously, given the elegance of the room, he was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. One booted foot rested on the opposite knee.