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Her Master's Courtesan

Page 8

by Lily White


  “No beautiful girl, I have so much more I want with you tonight. You’re not letting go yet.”

  I had to move her some place where I could have full access to her body. I’ve never needed the feel of a woman’s skin against me as much as I did now. I wanted to see her mouth open with her lustful moans; I wanted to look in her eyes as I dominated every aspect of her. I wanted to watch when I took her mind as easily as I’d taken her body.

  I pulled out and we groaned in unison at the loss of contact. I smoothed my hand over the smooth, round perfection of her ass. “It’s okay, pet. I’m only taking you down from the rack. You’ll be back to riding my cock very soon.”

  Deftly, my hands worked her out of her restraints; releasing from the cuffs before catching her, lifting her into my arms and carrying her down the hall to a spare bedroom I’d designed specifically for sexual training. Kicking the door open with my foot, I flicked on a switch that lit the gas candle sconces on the wall. The room was bathed in dancing shadow which provided an ominous feel – an atmosphere of danger and domination – a place where she could escape into the fantasy of being the slut she wanted to be.

  Rebecca

  I didn’t know where he’d taken me – and I didn’t care anymore. After being forced to my knees, after being degraded and hurt and humiliated, something had snapped inside me. I recognized the truth in his words, my desire to be a whore, to be blindfolded and bound like that woman in the painting. It had been my favorite – he’d been right about that. It touched something inside me I didn’t know existed; it reached out and excited a part of me that needed to be fed.

  I wanted him to make me his whore. I wanted him to fuck me like no man ever had. I wasn’t a virgin and I wasn’t new to the touch of man. But what I was new to was the feeling of having my body totally consumed by the feel of a man’s hand, the brush of his skin against mine – the sheer ecstasy of his tongue against my core. He was skilled in seduction, demanding in his domination, and haunting in the hedonism of his desire.

  He laid me down on the black silk sheets spread over a large mattress. My hands gripped instantly into the cool feel of the cloth. He stood above me, his eyes burning down, shadows and light dancing across the dark lust in his expression. His shirt hung open and for the first time, I was able to see the shape of his body. I sucked in a breath at the smooth contour of his chest, hard and strong where it needed to be and dipping down to a sculpted abdomen. He was naked from the waist down and his wrapped dick still stood in front of him, taunting me with the pleasure he driven through my body just moments before.

  I felt drunk. My head swam from the emotions that had been forced through me over the time I’d been with him.

  “On your knees, pet.” the deep tone in which he spoke vibrated through me. His words burned at places inside me I didn’t know could be touched by nothing more than the sound of a man’s baritone voice.

  I pushed my tired body from the bed and onto my knees facing him. I watched the light reflect off a bead of sweat that rolled over the sculpted curves of his chest and my tongue flicked out to run across my lip in desperate need to taste the salt of his skin. I don’t know what was happening to me and I considered that maybe he’d been correct – maybe, inside, what a woman really needed was to be controlled, to be brought to her knees by the strength of man; only to be pushed above a dangerous edge that left her mind swimming is ecstasy and seduction. Every fucking part of me felt alive and I was hyper aware of the air against my skin, the silk sheets beneath my knees, the heat of his large body rolling over me from where he stood.

  “I’m going to let you touch me because I want to feel your hands on my skin. This is not something you can normally do without permission. You need to remember that. But, for now, I want the feel of your palms on my chest and your nails across my back. I want everything that’s primal inside you; I want you lost to everything but the feel of my cock, and my mouth.”

  He grabbed my chin forcefully, kissing softly along my jaw but stopping when I turned to try to force his mouth to my lips. My eyes opened and shot to his face to see that he’d pulled away, grinning at me.

  “No, pet. You don’t force me. If I want my tongue shoved down your throat, I’ll put it there when I’m good and fucking ready to do so.” He paused, staring down into my eyes while the warning of his words rang through my mind. “Spread your legs for me, beautiful – but stay on your knees.”

  I spread my shaky legs, looking at the sheets. He grabbed my face again and forced me to look up at him. Lust burned behind his eyes when he reached between my legs to play with the swollen flesh. My legs shook harder and I tried to look away from the intensity of his stare. The tips of his fingers dug into my cheeks and he shook his head at me when I finally peeked up at him from beneath the fall of my lashes.

  “Watch me when I take you. Watch me when I make your body mine. Let yourself go in the knowledge that you have no choice, no opinion, and no responsibility besides turning me on. Keep your fucking eyes glued to mine, beautiful, because I want you to see me when I fuck you.”

  My breath was forced out of me by the callousness of his commands. My head started to swim again with the hormones that raced through my veins. The room started to spin with the dancing shadows created by the ensconced flames throughout the room. My skin felt sticky with a sheen of fine sweat and when his skilled hands worked over the slick skin between my thighs, my head fell back. He pulled my head back to him by gripping his the hand he’d just had on my cheek into my hair.

  “Keep your fucking eyes on me.”

  It was too much – the sensation of his hand and the blinding stare of his eyes. He saw through me; I could feel him inside me, toying with my thoughts, pushing at buttons that sent waves of exquisite heat rolling through me. He had one finger tucked inside me while his thumb continued to play over my clit. I started to climax and I could feel every muscle inside me attempt to grip around the teasing motion of his fingers. My breathing came in short bursts and my heart tapped a steady, yet quick, rhythm against my ribs.

  Finally, with one more flick of his thumb against my swollen nub, I came long and hard over his fingers, each wave of pleasure inside me announced with a guttural moan springing from somewhere deep inside. I heard him laugh, short and wicked and I knew how much he enjoyed playing with me like a child would a favorite toy.

  “Stand up and remove my shirt.” His words were broken over the gruffness of his voice. Almost spoken in a growl, his command spurred me to move my sated and spent body forward until I could step down from the bed. When I stood, I was dizzy and his arm snaked around my waist to catch me from falling. Finally steadying myself, I slowly placed my hands on the hard and defined muscles of his stomach. They rippled beneath my delicate touch when I moved them up and over his skin. His nipples were hard and erect beneath my palms and I shuddered when I finally felt the steel beneath the skin of his shoulders and chest. His raw strength was intoxicating and I swam in a wash of hormones that I’d never known before.

  The shirt slipped from his shoulders and fell to the floor behind him. He stood completely naked before me and I became wet again despite having orgasmed just moments before. I could feel my desire leak from between my legs and I wanted nothing more but to have this man inside me, pushing me to the brink of madness in the most carnal manner possible.

  “I’m going to lie down. When I do, I want you to straddle me.” He brought his head down to whisper against my ear. “I want you to ride my cock.”

  I nodded my head to let him know I understood his instructions and he moved around me, his hand sliding along the skin of my hip when he went to lie down. Before climbing onto the bed after him, I took a moment to look over the perfection of his body. His chest and stomach matched the chiseled quality of his face and I wondered how it was possible for a man to be as beautiful as the one laying across the black silk sheets of the bed.

  He held out a hand to steady me as I climbed over him, positioning the opening of m
y body over the head of his thick cock. His hands were immediately around my hips and he pulled me down on him slowly. I could feel the walls of my pussy stretch to accommodate his size and my head fell back again, my hair tickling my ass as the air was forced from my lungs. I started to move over him and I placed my hands on his chest, pumping up and down, setting the rhythm as we fucked.

  This wasn’t about love or companionship or warmth. No. This was something darker – more primal and raw. It was something illicit, yet natural. Something that would have me spilling the juices of my body over him again.

  Warm and strong, his hands traveled up my body to cup the weight of my breasts and when he pinched the nipples between his fingers, a tear fell from my eye at how easily my body responded to him. I was on fire, the heat of my skin contrasting sharply against the slight chill of the room.

  His head fell back against the pillow and his eyes were half closed when he yelled, “Fuck, pet! You are so fucking sweet.”

  Before I could process what he was doing, I was on my back, my legs spread apart and bent up at the sides of my chest. Sweat trickled down his forehead and the iron-slat headboard beat against the wall from the force of his thrusts inside me. His hands held my legs open wide and his eyes focused on his cock as it sunk inside me, over and over again.

  My body felt like it would split apart and I couldn’t keep my eyes open despite my fascination with the way his body moved above me. Every muscle rippled over his chest, his biceps and his forearms. Beads of sweat rolled like diamonds along his skin from the light that reflected against them.

  My mouth opened and the sound that came out of it wasn’t recognizable. I thought I’d been pushed to the edge and that the world around me would fracture … break apart … leaving me floating within a void of ethereal film. But he wasn’t done yet.

  His hands were suddenly beside my head and his mouth traveled over my neck. His tongue lapped at my skin while his teeth grazed and nipped, delivering small shocks of pain that were gone as quickly as they’d occurred. I felt the heat building inside me again and I shook my head, clenching my eyes against a peak that I feared was too high for me to handle. The pleasure he gave became sweet torture - my body trembling beneath him, taken over by the storm of his lust for dominance and control.

  And then it happened again – he drove me to another release and my head fell back, my mouth opened; but this time, when the scream spilled from my throat, his mouth was on mine. He swallowed that scream when he claimed my lips and I felt his body tense over me, thrusting one last time. His tongue forced its way over mine and he tasted like mint and the salt of his skin. Small aftershocks erupted through my body and I could feel his cock twitch inside me. He pulled out quickly and released the kiss before resting his forehead against mine.

  I collapsed against the mattress as his weight fell on me, his chest pounding as if he’d just run for miles. Our heavy breath eventually slowed and I enjoyed the feel of him over me, the heat of his skin and slick with sweat. I was lazy beneath him, drifting from the rush of blood through my head.

  Neither of us spoke or moved for several minutes, so I was surprised when he suddenly cursed under his breath and pushed himself off me. He stood up from the bed and walked toward the door grabbing the handle before turning back to me. “Stay on the fucking bed. You move and I’ll beat you for it. Do you understand?”

  A chill ran over my skin partly from the loss of his body above me and partly from the razor edge of his words. His anger confused me and I was startled from the floating sensation that had consumed me only seconds before.

  Slamming the door as he left, I pulled my bent legs to my chest, fear and anticipation crawling over my skin. What had I done to upset him? And would I be able to handle what came with his anger?

  Once again, I was left torn in two by this man – shocked and almost destroyed by his abuse, but then brought to my knees by the way he could make me body feel. It seemed like it took hours for him to return and when he did, he was back to the emotionless and completely controlled man that I’d known before he brought me in this room.

  “Let’s go, pet. You’ll have a busy day tomorrow and you’ll need sleep to be presentable.”

  Another fucking tear escaped my eye and I was frozen on the bed, confused and speechless at how quickly his moods shifted. From lustful, to angry to cold – how could a person hold on to their own sanity while vacillating between such strong emotions in such a short period of time? Without considering the question further, I realized I’d answered it already. He wasn’t sane – no sane man could take an innocent woman and subject her to the abuse he’d already committed against me.

  “I suggest you get up now. I’d hate to see what happens if I was made to force you.”

  He’d redressed from the waist down – the charcoal grey of his pants, hanging perfectly off his waist. My eyes followed the shadows that danced along the sculpted lines of his chest and abdomen and I fought back my attraction, forcing myself to remember everything he’d already done. Standing slowly, I made my way to him on weak legs, stumbling over my feet and quickly realizing that my body hurt from his pleasure and his pain.

  He walked me down the corridor without speaking another word and locked me into the dark room once again. When he was gone, I allowed the tears to flow freely again when I wrapped myself up in the thin sheet he’d provided me, crying myself to sleep in the cold, lonely and desolate space.

  Aiden

  “I’ll need more time with her – she’s stubborn. I’ve had to mark her several times just to get her under control. She won’t scar, but it may take some time before she’s presentable again.”

  “You’re not destroying my property are you, Aiden? If a bitch is going to be marked, it’ll be my brands across her back and ass, not the reminders of another Master.”

  I laughed. This asshole was trying to pass himself off as a Master within our circle. I knew differently, knew that only 20 true Masters existed – only 20 men who knew the fine art of breaking a woman down and rebuilding her for seduction and lust.

  “You’re not a Master, and if you care anything about your life, you’ll correct the assumption that you are allowed to use that title. It is something that is earned and considered valued by the members of our society. Refer to yourself with that title in the wrong company and you will die with your dick shoved down your throat.”

  He laughed, not believing the seriousness of my words. Certain men believe that their extraordinary wealth and induction into our group gave them the right to act as they pleased – made them feel invincible and abnormally powerful. But that wasn’t the case and I’ve seen many men slaughtered for attempting to be something they most definitely were not.

  “When the bitch is in my home, I’m her Master; but, fine, Aiden, we’ll go with your definition of the term. I’m nothing more than a member or a buyer, however you want to refer to me – it doesn’t matter. I know how to properly use a bitch. I’ve been through enough of them.”

  His words intrigued me. He hadn’t been in the society that long from what I remembered being told by the member who’d referred him to me. How had he had time to trade women? Each buyer preferred to hang on to their sluts for several years at a time, at least until they’ve grown bored and looked for something new or exotic for their collection.

  “You trade quickly. How many women have you been through, exactly?”

  His chuckle was sickening – it dripped with twisted perversion, even more than the natural inclination of the group.

  “Let’s just say, it takes a strong woman to handle my form of punishment. If they push me too far, I bury myself in them before I bury them in the ground. I’ve had a few women who survived it, but they’re not quite right in the head any longer, if you understand what I’m saying.”

  I breathed out a deep breath, my skin crawling from the hint of depraved carnage carried in his words. But, it was not my place to demand leniency on behalf of his slaves. Each man was allowed th
eir desire – no matter how dark or morbid it might be. It was his money to spend as he pleased and if he had enough to replace the women he killed, there was nothing I could do about it. He wouldn’t be banished, but he would be watched. Even though we were far from ordinary or decent men, we still prided ourselves on civilized and intelligent behavior – we didn’t need a psychopath’s actions chancing the discovery of the society we’d worked so hard to keep secret all these years.

  “Two months. That will be the total time I’ll need with her. If that is too long to wait to get your sick fix, then go to another Master to acquire your whore. I train slaves to be truly subservient, to give up not only their body but their mind as well. And some take longer than others, I’m afraid. I don’t need to torture a woman to get her to take my dick.”

  Yes. That last statement was a stab, but I refused to remain respectful with a man who was obviously corrupted by a thirst for blood.

  His laugh was loud and boisterous.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing, Aiden. There isn’t anything more divine that fucking a woman as she dies. I get off so hard on that last breath and then fuck them again once they’re cold.”

  I winced at his words.

  Had I killed? Yes.

  But it wasn’t what turned me on.

  “Two months, Duke – and then she’s all yours.” I ended the call and tossed my phone on my desk. Staring out my window, I watched as the morning sun was starting to rise over the horizon, painting the sky with multi-hued layers of fire across the clouds. My office was bathed in dynamic light and images of Rebecca, bound and begging, flashed across my mind. Just the thought of her body, of the responsive need and the storm of desire that obviously lay dormant inside her for far too long, made my cock twitch against my pants and my mouth water at the thrill of making her mine.

  Nevertheless, for as much as I wanted her, I realized I needed to remain distant and prevent myself from becoming lost in the feeling of owning her – of controlling her. When I’d fucked her the night before, I’d become absorbed in her body – the way she dripped in anticipation, the way her muscles gripped at me with desperation and need. It was intoxicating to say the least and when I’d made the mistake of kissing her on the mouth – a mistake I’d never made before, I became angry with myself. A large part of my job is to remain distant, to mold the girl into the perfect whore and then send her on her way to live a life with her new owner. I’ve never kissed a courtesan before – not on the mouth – and most certainly not with the passion that I felt when I finally tasted the sweet bite of her lips and tongue. Everything about her was exquisite and I had to get away from her as soon as I realized my mistake. I wouldn’t allow it to happen again – I couldn’t allow it to happen again. In two months’ time, I’d be handing her over to a man who would most likely kill her and I didn’t want to concern myself with her fate.

 

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