The Chaste Legacy

by Susanna Hughes

  'Good morning, my dear. How charming you look. So young. So fresh. Please be seated. There are some fresh figs which I recommend.' He indicated the table which was laden with fruit, a jug of orange juice, coffee, milk, a bowl of yogurt, and two baskets of sweet breads and croissants. 'Please help yourself.'

  Corinda was hungry. She sat at the table and reached for the figs.

  'You may leave us,' Constantine said to Eloisa.

  'Of course,' she said, trying to indicate with her eyes that Corinda had asked some awkward questions. Constantine shook his head as if to dismiss the problem, so she left them.

  'So, my dear, you slept well?'

  'Not really.' Corinda bit into a croissant and poured herself a glass of orange juice. 'I wanted to ask you about London. Have you contacted the solicitors?'

  'I am pleased to say that problem is solved.'

  'Solved?'

  Constantine smiled. His gold teeth caught the artificial light. 'Yes. My agent in Athens has had a great deal of trouble getting a telephone number for Morrison and Morrison. But meantime I have managed to contact an old friend of mine. He has been cruising in the Mediterranean and happens to be passing by. He is on his way to London. I explained your predicament and he will be delighted to help. His yacht will berth here this afternoon. Tomorrow you can depart with him. He'll take you to London. I'm sure from there it will be easy to find the executors of your father's will.'

  'Really?' Corinda said excitedly, her fears evaporating to be replaced by a wave of relief.

  'Absolutely. He is only too pleased to help, I can assure you.'

  'Oh, that's wonderful. I really have been so worried.'

  'Of course you have. That is natural.'

  'I can't thank you enough, Constantine.' She had been stupid, she told herself; stupid ever to doubt him. In the watches of the night worries got exaggerated, she knew. She had simply misunderstood some casual remarks.

  'It's entirely my pleasure, my dear. I have work today, I fear, but tonight I shall send for you again and hopefully by then the prince will have arrived.

  'The prince?'

  'Yes. My friend is a prince. A small nation in north Africa. His father is their king. One day Samora will inherit the throne.'

  'A real prince?'

  'And a very rich one. His country may be small but it sits on large deposits of oil and platinum. Samora's family is extremely wealthy.'

  'I can't wait to meet him.'

  'Has anything else been bothering you, my dear?' Constantine sipped his coffee.

  'No, no. It was just that...' Now he had found a way for her to get to London it seemed ungrateful even to mention it.

  'Please, you must tell me if anything is distressing you. I realise the conditions here are far from perfect for someone so young and vigorous, but you will understand my condition means...'

  'No. It's not that Constantine.' She touched his arm. 'It was only Dimitri. It was really kind of you to let your friends have sex with me. I appreciate it, I really do. But Dimitri was...' She shuddered at the thought of him.

  'Dimitri hurt you?'

  'No, not really hurt. I suppose I don't know what to expect from men, that's all. He didn't treat me like you have.'

  'You will never see him again, I assure you.'

  'Good.'

  Dimitri had offered more than Yves. Constantine had almost concluded a deal with him until he had received a call from the prince via his satellite phone. In fact the prince was the first person Constantine had tried to contact about his latest acquisition but his yacht had only just put into port and he hadn't got the message over the radio. He had asked Constantine to wait for his arrival. If the girl was everything Constantine said she was, he would double Dimitri's offer. Constantine was so sure Corinda would appeal to the prince's taste he told Dimitri the deal was off.

  It would be a pity to see her go, of course, but business was business after all.

  'So finish your breakfast. Enjoy the sun. There are sunbeds on the first floor, if you would like to make sure your tan is topped up,' he said. He wanted her to look her best for the prince.

  'Really? Can I do that?'

  'Of course.' He got to his feet, took a final sip of coffee, and wiped his lips with a white linen napkin. 'You'll have to forgive me.' He turned to walk away, then stopped. 'Oh,' he said as an afterthought, 'wear something seductive. I'm sure you'll want to make a good impression on the prince.'

  'Don't worry, I will.'

  Chapter Eight

  Corinda spun around in front of the long mirror on the bathroom door. She was much more adept in the high-heeled shoes now and could walk quite normally without tottering. She had topped up her tan on the sunbeds, as Constantine suggested. Then she used the afternoon deciding what she was going to wear, and experimenting with her make-up. She applied mascara to her long eyelashes, and eye-shadow which made her look, she thought, less youthful and more sophisticated. A touch of blusher on her cheeks emphasised her cheekbones, and a deep red lipstick defined her perfectly symmetrical mouth.

  Her hair had been pinned up, to leave her lithe neck bare. She hoped that, since this was to be her last night on the island, Constantine would agree to go to bed with her. She had selected her lingerie as carefully as her dress. Among the many beautiful things she'd found in the wardrobe was a garment she thought matched his description of what was seductive. It was made from an almost transparent black material, tight and stretchy. It hugged her breasts and the hem dipped into four triangles, from which hung black suspenders. The garment had no hooks or zips or laces. It had to be smoothed, pulled and inched into place.

  In contrast to its confining hug her buttocks and sex felt open and free. She decided to wear panties, reasoning that it would be alluring, at the right moment, to let Constantine watch her wriggling out of them. There was a pair in the same semi-transparent black. They were tiny, only just covering her pubis at the front, and with nothing at the back but a thin thong.

  Knowing Constantine's predilection for them, she wore stockings. She chose a pair of sheer black with a welt which the suspenders pulled into chevrons on her thighs.

  Her dress had been more difficult to choose. After she'd squeezed into her underwear she tried on several possibilities among the glittering silk, satin and lace creations that - though she did not know it - had been looted from the wrecks of many yachts. In the end she chose a strapless blue affair that shimmered with tiny sequins and clung to her as tightly as the corset. It displayed her ample cleavage and her curvaceous figure to the best advantage, and its modest ankle length gave no hint of the secrets she wore underneath. With black suede high heels and a dab of a musky scent Eloisa had provided, her outfit was complete.

  The picture in the mirror was very different from the girl who had arrived on the island four days before. She examined herself from every angle. She like the way the fitted waist of the dress flared out on her hips and clung to her pert bottom and the upper contours of her thighs.

  Her days on the island had not been wasted. With the wardrobe of clothes and make-up at her disposable she had taken the chance to learn what suited her and what didn't, what flattered and emphasised the positive, and what made her look less than her best. Up to now clothes and her appearance had been a matter of no concern to her. But on Constantine's island, among the many lessons she had learnt, she realised exactly how important appearance was, especially in relation to men. She learnt that what she wore under her clothes was just as important as what she wore on top. She had discovered that make-up could be used to set a mood too. It was all part, she was sure, of being a woman and not a girl. As she stood gazing at herself in the shimmering dress she was very much a woman now, in every sense.

  And she was ready.

  She walked back into the bedroom and sat on the bed. As well as there being no natural light in the building there was very little sound either. The insulation that prevented light leaking in clearly prevented sound too. Though she had tried she had
n't heard the slightest noise from outside; no wind or sea, and certainly nothing to indicate whether the prince's yacht had arrived and he'd come ashore.

  She tried to read but the words refused to register. Her mind was too full of questions. What would the prince look like? Would he find her as attractive as the other men did? It would be a long voyage to England and she hoped he might want to take her to bed. She was eager to continue her lessons at the school of sexual manners.

  It seemed to be hours before she jumped to her feet as the shutter motors ground into life. The woman in the black dress beckoned her out and led the way through the house, not to the main reception room as Corinda had expected, but up the staircase and along the hall to Constantine's bedroom. The woman knocked on the door twice and retreated back down the hall without waiting for it to be opened.

  Corinda stood waiting. She thought she heard voices inside. The woman had disappeared by the time Constantine came to the door.

  'My dear, you look enchanting,' he said. He was wearing a green velvet robe tied at the waist with a plaited silk cord. He stepped aside and gestured her in. 'Would you like a glass of champagne?'

  'Thank you, that would be nice.' She had expected him to be dressed for dinner, but tried not to register surprise that he was not.

  There was a wine cooler on the coffee table. He indicated that she should sit. He poured the wine and handed her a glass, then refilled his own.

  'Salute,' he said, raising his glass. He sat in a button-backed wing chair upholstered in the same dark blue as the sofa on which she sat.

  'Has he arrived?' she asked anxiously, fearing that not being taken to the dining room meant a change of plan.

  'Oh yes, he got in this afternoon. He'll be here in a moment. He's very anxious to meet you. I thought a more intimate setting might be appropriate. We can dine later, if you don't mind.'

  As they were alone she decided to broach a matter that had been bothering her. 'I hope you didn't think I was ungrateful, complaining about Dimitri.'

  Constantine smiled, then put a finger to his lips. 'Not another word. The matter is forgotten.'

  There was a knock at the bedroom door. She felt her heart leap.

  Constantine smiled at her again. 'Well, your prince has come.'

  He got to his feet and went to the door. She had her back to it and didn't want to appear too anxious to twist around and look, so she sat demurely with her hands in her lap, having deposited the glass on the mirrored coffee table in front of her.

  'Come in, my friend, come in,' she heard Constantine say. Footsteps walked across the marble floor. 'Corinda Chaste, may I present Prince Samora Laraki?'

  She stood up and turned to face the newcomer. She felt her heart skip a beat. He was handsome. Very handsome. He was tall and slender, with the grace and natural poise of an athlete. His skin was black, not mahogany or even chocolate, but ebony black. His face was symmetrical, balanced around a delicately straight nose and high, sharp cheekbones. His lips were thin and smooth, and his chin firm and chiselled. His eyes were hypnotic, perfectly proportioned and elliptically narrow. They were the colour of burnt amber, their whites flawless and in stark contrast to the colour of his skin. His hair was black too, the tight curls cropped to his scalp.

  'It's a pleasure to meet you,' he said, in an accent that reflected its English public school origin. He extended a slim hand. His fingers were quite thick and his nails manicured. He wore a large gold signet ring, with a crest engraved on it.

  'And you,' Corinda said, a little overcome. She wondered if she should curtsey. She felt a thrill of sexual excitement as he shook her hand.

  'Constantine said you were an exceptional beauty and, of course, he was quite right. If you don't mind me saying, you are exquisite.' For a second his eyes left her to look at the Greek, letting him know he was very pleased.

  'That's very kind of you.' Corinda had been gifted with so many compliments on the island she was starting to believe them.

  'Some champagne?' Constantine said, sitting down again and pouring the prince a glass.

  As seemed to be the fashion among Constantine's guests, Samora was wearing slacks and a shirt. The slacks were navy blue and the silk shirt was the palest of pinks. He took the glass and sat on the sofa next to Corinda. She could smell a strong, musky cologne.

  'Constantine told me of what happened to you,' the prince said.

  'Would it be possible for you to take me to London?' she asked.

  He looked momentarily nonplussed. Then he smiled broadly, revealing a set of perfectly white, perfectly regular teeth. 'Oh, London, of course. That's no problem.'

  'I'd be so grateful. Constantine saved my life, you know. Has he told you that?'

  'He's told me all about you,' Samora replied, looking at her intently. 'So we are to travel to London together.'

  'That would really be very kind. Look, I don't have much experience with men, so I hope this doesn't sound strange, but you really are very attractive. I don't suppose you'd consider having sex with me on our voyage. It is a long way.' She would have liked to have sex with him now but she wasn't sure whether Constantine was intending to make love to her, since he was only partially dressed and they were sitting in his bedroom.

  The prince laughed lightly. 'She's delightful, Connie, just as you said.'

  'You're making fun of me.'

  'No, no, my dear,' the prince said. He put a hand on her knee. The touch was like an electric shock. 'It is simply that you are so charming. I would be happy to have sex with you. If you want the truth, I feel so attracted to you I'd be happy to begin right now.'

  'An excellent idea,' Constantine said. 'Why don't you two get to know each other properly?'

  'You don't mind?' Corinda asked.

  'Certainly not.'

  It was so typical of him, she thought. He always seemed to have her best interests at heart. He could probably see how attracted she was to the prince.

  'But one thing first,' the prince said. 'I have a little surprise for you.' He got up with almost balletic grace, went to the door and opened it. The two girls had been waiting outside. 'For you, Connie,' he said as he beckoned them in. 'A little present to keep you happy this evening.'

  The girls were both black, both naked apart from a silver choker around each of their necks and silver bracelets around one wrist. A chain was attached to a ring at the front of each of the chokers and looped between the girls. Another shorter chain linked the left bracelet of one girl to the right bracelet of the other. In their untethered hands each held what at first appearance looked like a stubby wooden sword. It was only as they got closer that Corinda saw that the blade part, protruding from the handle and wooden guard, was a carved replica of an erect penis.

  'They are lovely, Samora, lovely.' Constantine got to his feet to inspect his present.

  It was true. Both girls were slim and voluptuous. They had long legs and their hips snakelike, their buttocks pert. Both had short black hair. Both had pubes which had been trimmed neatly. Their breasts though were different. One had small breasts with stiff little nipples, while the other had large round breasts with large round nipples.

  The prince clapped his hands. 'Enjoy,' he said, sitting next to Corinda again.

  As if following some rehearsed plan, the larger-breasted girl dropped to her knees in front of Constantine. She parted his velvet robe and buried his cock in her mouth, as the other girl walked behind him, trailing the chain from the chokers around his shoulders. She unknotted the sash of the robe and pulled it off, leaving him naked. Then she pressed her body into his back, running her fingers over his barrel chest to his nipples. As she sucked and kissed his neck her fingernails pinched the tender flesh and Constantine moaned.

  The spectacle made Corinda's sex moisten. She didn't know whether it was responding to the naked girls or to the sight of Constantine's erection bobbing in and out of the kneeling girl's mouth.

  'Are you shocked?' the prince asked, sipping his champagne.


  'No,' she replied. What a strange question. The suddenness had surprised her, and perhaps that was what he was reading in her expression, but to be shocked she would need to have standards of behaviour by which to judge. As the only standards she had formed, when it came to relations between men and women, had been based on what she had seen on Constantine's island, the behaviour of the two girls seemed perfectly normal. 'They're very beautiful,' she said seriously.

  'Yes, they are.'

  'Watching makes me feel...'

  'What?'

  'Excited, here.' She pressed her hand in between the tops of her thighs.

  'Does it feel nice?'

  'It would feel a lot better if you kissed me,' she said.

  'You excite me,' he said. He brushed his tongue against her lips, then sank his mouth on to hers. His tongue plunged into it. She squirmed her lips against his greedily.

  'Does that make you erect?' she asked as he pulled away.

  He smiled. 'Of course.'

  'Does it?' She pushed her hand into his lap and felt a hard ridge unfurling in his trousers. 'I'm new at all this,' she explained. 'You have to teach me what you like.' She unzipped the fly and delved inside. Parting his shorts she found his erection. It was hot. She didn't think she'd ever get used to how hot men's cocks felt to the touch. She pulled it out of the trousers and gazed at it unabashed. It was large and, though the shaft was the same black as the rest of his body, the glans was bright pink.

  'No foreskin,' she said, almost to herself.

  'I lost it at birth,' he said.

  'It's big.' She grasped it in her fist and squeezed. The glans inflated. She relaxed her grip then squeezed again. She leant over and slipped it between her lips, sucking the tip before opening her mouth and plunging down on it. She heard the prince moan.

  'No, no,' he said, pulling her off him.

  'Did I do something wrong?'

  'No, of course not. I just like to take it more slowly. I'd like to look at you first.'

  She understood that. She had spent most of the afternoon preparing, though she had imagined it would be Constantine she'd undress for. Getting to her feet she glanced across the room. Constantine was lying on his side on the bed, with one of the girls in front of him and one behind. Corinda resisted the temptation to watch, wanting to concentrate on the prince. She reached behind her and pulled down the zip of the dress, turning so she could look into Samora's eyes. 'Is this what you want?'