Her Master's Courtesan

by Lily White

  She swallowed the information down with difficulty, speaking softly once again. “I have many questions. I’d like to know why I was taken, if you plan on killing me and why you are doing this to me.”

  I didn’t fault her for her inquiries and I understood them to be the standard thoughts that ran through a woman’s head when she was beginning to fully grasp the weight of her new position.

  “You were taken because you fit the description of the woman my client was seeking: Tall, blonde, not too heavy and not too skinny, seemingly intelligent, and one who comes from a wealthy family. I followed you for three days after discovering you studying with friends in a park. Your hair caught the sunlight in such a way that I couldn’t help but notice you. From that point on, you were destined to become a courtesan; you just didn’t know it yet. I do not plan on killing you because that would cost me money and time. However, it is not something that will be avoided if you continue to rebel against me. I’m already quite wealthy and there is nothing I need, therefore losing my client’s deposit won’t destroy me or affect me in any way. Still, I have a reputation to uphold – and killing you would only serve to tarnish that image, so I will do my best to ensure you are still breathing by the time you leave my house. I am the best in my field and I was trained by the best. We pride ourselves on keeping women alive – on transforming them into the perfect pet. And there is no answer for why I am doing this to you; it is just the hand you have been dealt by fate. Had you not been in the park that day, and had you not tossed your hair in such a way that it caught my eye, you would not be sitting here at this very moment. There is not always a specific reason for the way our lives turn out; sometimes it’s simply a matter of timing and chance. Does that answer your questions?”

  She nodded, swallowing hard once again as she processed the cold truth of my words. “Yes, but I have one more if I’m allowed to ask it.”

  I breathed out heavily. “You may ask it if, and only if, you think about how you just answered me and why it was wrong. Rephrase what you just said and I might answer your last question.”

  She closed her eyes, her bottom lip trembling from the tears she fought to stifle. The tip of her nose was red and she sniffled. Her voice cracked when she opened her eyes, speaking again while staring down at the floor. “Yes, Master. May I ask another question?”

  My eyes rolled and I bit back my annoyance that she hadn’t asked if I wanted her question. For now, the fact that she called me Master would have to be good enough. “Yes.”

  “What is a courtesan? Why do you keep referring to me with that word?”

  “That’s two questions. I only gave you permission for one.”

  Fear and annoyance flashed across her expression at my correction and it amused me, so I continued.

  “We are a secret society that has existed for over 150 years. Fathers eventually introducing their sons to the practice, which keeps the society in existence. I was trained by one of the most successful Masters; and I am the only student to whom he imparted the secrets of his success. These men have the same needs and desires of most men; however, their tastes sometimes dabble on the darker side of sex. Some keep their courtesans within their own home, while others choose to marry and have a normal family while keeping their courtesans at another property. Much like people collect cars, art or exotic animals to demonstrate their wealth and power, these men are also collectors – only they collect the rarest commodity of all: human slaves. That is what you now are, pet – a slave. The men who started this group disliked the defeated nature of that word. It messed with their egos to stick their dicks in pussy that was not considered high grade - and that is how the word ‘slave’ made them feel. They used the term ‘courtesan’ to feed their own egos, to make their ownership and use of the women seem less sordid than it really was.”

  She nodded again and I could tell that a thousand more questions flooded her beautiful head, but she didn’t ask them. Satisfied with her silence, I stood again and returned to the stove to remove the food from the heat and place it on two plates. Moving back to the table I placed it on the table, moving her chair so she faced the food; but not releasing her binds to allow her to eat. I pulled a chair from the table and sat down with my own plate, placing a napkin on my lap and grabbing the fork and knife to cut my food. I took a bite and moaned at the flavor that had been seared into the meat – it was light, yet the perfect complement to the meat. I stabbed a spear of asparagus and raised it to my lips. Biting off the tip I slowly chewed while watching her stare at her food. Her stomach roared loudly in the quiet space and I smiled.

  “Had you not defied me today, you’d be eating that meal currently. I guarantee you, it’s amazing. It’s a shame you won’t be able to enjoy it. You must be hungry considering how long it’s been since you’ve eaten.”

  “May I speak Master?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  She locked her eyes with mine and I grimaced. “Another rule you have to learn to obey is that you are not allowed to make eye contact with your owner unless it is specifically ordered. I won’t hold it against you this time because there is no way for you to have known that, but you’d be better off looking at your feet while speaking to me.”

  She complied immediately and I answered her question. “You have been here a little over a day and I must admit that, despite your issues in the bath, I’m pleased with your progress. Yours was a quick order and I only have six more days to prepare you for your new home. He’s not a Master within our group, simply a buyer, but he will be the one to handle you once I’m finished and I expect you to make me a proud man when I hear praise about how well you behave for him.”

  Her bottom lip trembled more at what I was telling her.

  “Why does that make you upset? No man in our group is a monster. We don’t slaughter women for fun and we’re not savages. You will be cared for. I can’t promise you that your Master will remain the same throughout the duration of your life, but I can promise you that as long as you obey, you will remain above ground, so to say. Tell me why you are upset.”

  “You’ve just told me my life is over. That I am now a slave and will be traded around between strange men, used for their amusement and tossed aside like nothing more than property. I think I have a right to be upset.”

  I grabbed her chin and she yelped at the pressure of my fingers. Tilting her eyes to meet mine, I said, “That is where you are wrong, pet. You have no rights any longer. Your life belongs to the man who owns you. You will obey, and you will react with pleasure and thankfulness for the things your owner gives you. Your right to anything and everything has been stripped – your thoughts, your emotions, your choice, and possibly even your life – none of those are yours any longer. And you are not a slave, you are a courtesan. It would be best that you learned the difference.”

  Releasing her chin, I pushed my plate away and stood up. The wood leg of the chair scraped loudly against the tiled floor and she looked up at me, obviously having forgotten what I told her about where her eyes should be trained.

  “I’m done talking and I’m done eating. Your punishment will start now. If you take it like a good girl I promise you, I will make you feel good afterwards.” Flipping the rest of the silk up, I exposed the flogger, leash, restraints and clamps. There was also a tube of lubrication, a tub of balm and several condoms. I selected the clamps and approached her chair, dragging mine behind me as I walked. Taking my seat in front of her, I held the clamps up for her to see.

  “Do you recognize these?”

  Her eyes followed the length of chain, noticing the three thin beaded clamps at the ends. She shook her head. “No, Master.”

  “They are nipple clamps. Most chains only hold two clamps, but this one has a third for your clitoris. You will feel some discomfort at first, but eventually you will learn to love it when a man brings these out. They are intended for your pleasure and if you’ve earned them, you know you have pleased your o
wner. Because this is your first time however, these will hurt like a bitch and I’ll use the initial discomfort they’ll cause you to my advantage.”

  Placing the clamps on my lap, I brought my hand up to lick my fingers before reaching out to take the tip of her right breast in my hand. Rolling the nipple between the wet skin of my fingers, I enticed the tip to push out, long and thick. Her left breast reacted as well and I noticed how the weight of her breasts swelled in response to my touch.

  “I love the way your body responds. I noticed it the first time I fucked you. Even with your fright, anger and scathing hatred, you climaxed over me three times. It was extraordinary and I’m sure if I felt between your legs now I would find that you are wet. You have no idea how useful that is to a man like me.”

  Reaching down with my free hand, I ran my finger along the slick skin. It was wet – just as I’d assumed it would be. I slipped my finger inside, teasing at the tight outer rim of her core. Her hips bucked at my touch and I grinned. She was highly responsive and would please the man to whom she was being sold. I was going to enjoy the time I had with her and I would see how far I could push her body and how badly I could warp her strong mind.

  “I wish I could fuck you now, but you don’t deserve my cock until you’ve shown me how good you can be when I punish you.”

  She whimpered and I smiled. “Shhhhh. Don’t be afraid, it will hurt, but it will go a lot smoother if you relax and accept it.” I worked my finger farther inside her, using my thumb to rub over her clit, the tiny red bead peeking out in response to the stimulation. I removed my hand and grabbed the clamps, placing the first one on her clit and turning the small ball so that the thin clip tightened down. Her expression changed almost instantly, and I knew I’d caused pain by securing the clip on her clitoris first. This was punishment however, and I continued forward, not concerned that I was causing her unnecessary pain.

  “I am going to attach the nipple clamps and release you from your binds. Once I’ve done that I want you to stand up and move beneath the iron pan rack that is hanging from the ceiling. You will face the wall and wait for my next instruction when you’re beneath it.”

  She didn’t vocalize her response and I reminded her, “When I give you an instruction, you’re to answer me.”

  I yanked on the chain of the clamp and she winced before responding, “Yes, Master.”

  “Excellent. I hope we can get through the punishment quickly. My cock is pushing quite painfully against my pants and I’d prefer that it be buried in you.”

  Rebecca

  The clamp between my legs hurt. I wanted to cry, to move my hips in an attempt to free myself of the beaded tips that squeezed over my clit. But I feared he’d hurt me more if I resisted him.

  He placed the cold tip of another clamp over my nipple, spinning the purple bead around, securing the clamp tightly. I winced at the pain and fought back tears as he moved to secure the last one. Once he’d done so, he reached down to untie my feet from the chair, but stopped suddenly. He looked me over and stood up, leaving me alone in the kitchen when he walked into another room. I thought about running, about getting up from this table and finding a way to free myself – but the house was so large, I had no idea where he would be.

  When he returned, he held a camera in his hand. “I want to document the experience for you - let you see how beautiful you look. It might help you accept your place when you learn what a jewel you have become. You are highly coveted by men such as me – rich men, powerful men, men of influence within the community.”

  Every click and flash of light caused my body to jump in reaction. Not only was I in pain from the clamps he’d attached to my body; but my humiliation was being documented as he added insult to the injury. He stood several feet away at first and I looked at my lap, not wanting my tear-streaked face on film. I should have known he wouldn’t allow that while he photographed me.

  “Look up into the camera. Let me see your beautiful eyes.”

  I looked up blinking against the flash every time he pushed down on the shutter button. The camera was large and looked professional. It had a heavy grip with which he used to turn it effortlessly to take horizontal and vertical shots. He stepped closer, each time focusing on some new part of my body. Eventually he was within two feet of me and he kneeled down, taking shots between my legs – the flash bouncing off the chain. I looked up when he finally set the camera down on the table.

  “Good. I’ll untie you now.”

  He removed the rope from around my ankles and wrists and stepped back, allowing me to stand from the chair. As soon as I straightened my body, the chains pulled taut and I groaned at the sensation of the clamps. It was painful to walk, but I took small steps until I stood beneath the iron rack as he’d instructed. There was absolute silence in the room and I closed my eyes and breathed out heavily in fearful anticipation of his next command.

  “Raise your hands above your head.” Like smooth silk, the deep baritone of his voice washed over my body and I jumped to realize he stood so close behind me.

  I reached above myself and winced again because the motion forced the chain even tighter. Tears welled at my eyes and I couldn’t blink them back, the sting of the clamps biting at the most sensitive parts of my body. The sensation was too much.

  He ran his hands slowly up my arms when he placed me in wrist restraints, connecting the cords to the rack above my head.

  “You’ll eventually grow accustomed to the clamps, I believe you will even appreciate them after a while – maybe this evening when I’m done fucking you.”

  I felt his hand reach between my legs once again and his skilled fingers rubbed softly along the skin. He poked a finger inside, swirling it in a circle, lightly stretching the muscle. My legs almost gave out beneath me and when my knees began to bend, he caught me around my waist and pulled my back up.

  He chuckled and his breath rolled along the skin of my neck and he smelled of mint. I briefly wondered how that could be, considering he’d just eaten in front of me, but I was pulled from that thought when I felt the thickness of his cock pressed up against me. He’d not removed his pants, but the bulge was blatantly apparent beneath the smooth material.

  He was right – what he’d said about the way my body would respond, and that fact slapped me hard across the face. My hips ground backwards into him and the clamps pulled tightly again; but this time, it felt as if the sting had been numbed, the rushing blood awakening the nerves and it felt like an electric jolt traveled between the tips of the three clamps. I felt myself become wet and I shuddered in response.

  I felt his hands grip around my hips and he pulled me against him tighter. He released one hand and plucked at the chain stretched taut between my breasts and my clit. Each pluck sent a wave of ecstasy through my body, my knees bending again from the heady sensation.

  “Yes my pet, feel the things I can do to your body. Lose yourself to it, let go and feel the pleasure only I can give you.”

  His fingers played between my legs again and I moaned when he teased the skin. “Do you like it when I tease your wet pussy? Does it make you hungry for more?”

  Hot and sultry, his mouth brushed over my ear and I leaned back into him allowing him to take the weight of my body. The endorphins that rushed through me in response to the pain were making me light headed and I felt like I sank into the warm strength of his chest and arms. He chuckled again and I didn’t really care at the moment that my behavior was amusing to him. I’m sure all the girls he’s trained have come to the same point as me and this was nothing new or exciting for him – it was expected. But, that still didn’t make me care.

  A feeling of comforting warmth bloomed in my belly, but it started to burn inside me. I felt like a toy that had been wound up tight, each small motion of his finger acting only to awaken the nerves running through my body. Sweat sheened over my skin despite the cool temperature of the room. My lips parted and I pulled in air. I started to shake in his hold and he pressed tigh
ter against my back, his hands working their way up my abdomen to rest at the bottom of my breasts. Like a jackhammer, my heart pounded in my chest and my head fell back against his chest. I felt his lips trail along my neck, his teeth nipping at the stretched skin and his tongue coming out to smooth over the pain.

  “I wish I could give you the release you so desperately need. I wish you hadn’t disobeyed me; but I won’t lie and tell you that your punishment won’t be enjoyable for me. I look forward to seeing the marks on your skin – to know that I’m the person who put them there.”

  He pulled away from me and I cried out when my legs bent beneath me and I was caught by the restraints around my wrist. I was so close to an orgasm, so fucking close to a release that was building inside me like a volcano. It burned me from the inside out. It left me dizzy and flustered and his words echoed in my head, my comprehension of them made less clear by the heat he’d produced in my body.

  Pushing myself up on unsteady legs, I heard him move between the table and the rack, a rhythmic sound growing louder as he approached. He moved around me, allowing me to see what he was slapping against his hand.

  “Have you ever seen one of these before? Do you know what it is?”

  I recognized the object in his hand from a fetish movie I’d watched with a friend years before. At the time, we’d laughed and grimaced at the odd practices employed by certain people during sex. Now, staring down at the black handle and black straps of the flogger that he carried, I cringed to realize he planned to use it on me.

  “It’s a flogger, Master. I saw one once – in a movie.”

  His brows rose and the sharp blue of his eyes glowed under the lights of the kitchen.

  “It is. I’m impressed and surprised that you know that. I never imagined you as one who would watch a film involving one of these. But then again I did find you in front of a painting depicting the less common form of sexual contact.” He stroked his hands along the straps of the flogger and I noticed small metal bits attached to the cords.