The Maestro
Page 8
Slowly, after all the buttons were undone, she eased the diaphanous fabric of her blouse over her sleek arms, tidily placing the blouse, once totally freed from her body, onto the back of her chair.
Linda was surprised at how white her flesh was considering the strength of the Mediterranean sun. Rebecca was not a girl who apparently went sunbathing.
'Now remove your brassiere.'
Rebecca hesitated again. She found the hook at the back and then timidly pulled off the bra, releasing her beautiful small breasts from the constriction of the cotton. Rebecca had big rose-coloured nipples, and fantastic, unblemished skin. She looked so young, so fresh.
'Come here!'
The girl shuffled a yard towards Delgado's chair. He reached up and clasped the delightful small mounds of flesh in his hands. Rebecca looked on aghast at the indignity of the scene. Delgado plucked her two nipples between his fingers, then pinched on them hard.
'Do you want to be an artist?' he asked again.
'Ouch,' she said feeling the hot pain of Delgado's manipulation. 'Yes, Delgado,' she said, breathing in deeply.
'Lift up your skirt!' He looked momentarily at Linda, a knowing smile passing across his face.
Rebecca's skirt fell below the knee. Slowly she raised it a little higher above her knees up to her thighs.
Linda had a terrible sense of deja vu. Had she not imagined such a scene with herself in her hotel bed only a few days ago?
'Higher!'
The dress went further up, until Delgado's eyes could rest on the lily-white of her thighs.
'Up to the waist!'
The dress was pulled up higher. Delgado could now see the matching white cotton panties, like little schoolgirls' knickers hugging the cheeks of her bottom.
Up until then, Rebecca had been looking down, watching Delgado's eyes.
'Hold up your head!' Delgado ordered.
She raised her head and stared in front of her as Delgado reached his hand over and placed his palm firmly over the panties, the hand covering her cotton clad pubis. He scrutinised her for a moment, then slid his finger under the cotton and along the innocent folds of her tumescent lips.
Linda was deeply aroused by the sight, as she saw Delgado delve into the girl's cotton panties, sliding his finger lower down, pressing his finger on the girl's anus. Linda suspected she had never been touched there before.
The girl was twitching with every movement of Delgado's hand.
Delgado relaxed back into his chair. 'Take off your skirt now, Rebecca.'
Rebecca unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor, Linda catching an exquisite view of the girl's bottom as she stepped out of it.
'Now kneel on the chair.' She was still nervous and shaking, but she no longer questioned Delgado's instructions. For the briefest of moments Rebecca caught Linda's eyes, but she averted her gaze as she placed her knees on the leather seat of the chair she had been sitting on.
Delgado stood up and offered his hand to Linda, pulling her up from the chair she had been sitting on and then placing the chair in front of where Rebecca kneeled.
'I take it, Mrs Powell, that you will participate.'
Linda didn't reply, but merely looked into Delgado's eyes, trying to find there some depth behind the pantomimic charade that he was directing.
'Kneel straight and hold onto the chair in front. Mrs Powell, remove her panties.'
Part of Linda wanted to protest at the ignoble seduction of the innocent girl. She knew that this had little to do with Rebecca's growth as an artist and more to do with Delgado satisfying his lust; but Linda was also very aroused by the sight of the English girl bent over the chair, her glorious little bottom perched over the wooden back.
She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of Rebecca's panties and slowly pulled the cotton over her alabaster bottom.
As Delgado went to his desk at the back of the room to retrieve a long straight cane, Rebecca turned around and met Linda's gaze, her doe-eyes staring into Linda's. She was trembling, acquiescing in her ordeal for the sake of her art, but terrified by what Delgado might do to her.
'If it's too much, tell me,' Linda whispered in her ear, trying to bring some reassurance to the frightened young girl. Rebecca nodded.
'Rebecca, do you trust me?' Delgado asked, a false, gentle calm in his voice, unable to completely control the excitement in the rising intonation of the enquiry.
At first Rebecca did not answer.
'Do you trust me, Rebecca?' he repeated.
'Yes, I trust you Delgado.'
'You are going to experience something that you have never experienced before. Something that will help you become a better artist, because you will be able to explore your sexuality through the pain that I am about to inflict on you. Mrs Powell, take the cane!'
Linda had never done anything like this before. She looked at the frightened girl leaning over the chair, nervously waiting for the punishment which she must have realised was about to be bestowed on her, her round buttocks quivering in her fear, the light brown of her hair extending down to the small of her back.
The situation was totally surreal: there was a naked girl kneeling before Linda and Delgado had passed her a cane to beat her with.
'This is a lesson for you too, Mrs Powell. I want to show you that sex is not a laughing matter, that such a thing as physical pain and physical pleasure is a serious business. I can see by the light in your eye that you want very much to cane the girl. Go ahead. Venga!'
Linda held the cane in her hand. It looked new. She wondered if Delgado had bought it for the express purpose for which he was about to use it.
Linda reached her arm back a little way and brought it down on the girl's naked bottom, the cane making a satisfactory hissing noise as it sliced the air and then landed on the girl. Her left buttock took most of the force, the girl involuntarily exclaiming an 'ow' that lingered in the air as a thin red line rose to the surface of her white skin, a beautiful incandescent mark of pain.
'No, Mrs Powell, not like that! You have never caned a woman before, obviously,' Delgado commented as he took the cane from her, raised it high above his head and brought it down much harder than Linda had done on the girl's alabaster buttocks, forcing a thin wail of pain to escape from her throat.
'Like this,' Delgado said as he thrashed the girl again, her body recoiling with the pain, a sharp squall coming from Rebecca's mouth.
He passed the cane back to Linda. She looked at the increasingly reddened bottom of the inexperienced girl, the sight inciting her to trounce the girl much harder than she had done the first time. She was surprised to find such a violent desire in her, but there was something about the way that Rebecca's bottom perched up before her. There was also the knowledge of Delgado's eyes on her, as well as the feel of the thin rod in her hand that made her want to hit Rebecca harder.
Having witnessed Delgado's cruel tutelage, she adopted his posture, standing with a straighter back and raising the cane much higher above her head, she took another look at the quaking girl and brought the cane down again, the crack of the cane against Rebecca's smarting flesh was much louder, harsher.
The girl shrieked with the pain as Linda flogged her again and again and again, the screams of the girl settling into a rhythm of outrage and indignity as she was thrashed by Linda, Delgado looking on all the time approvingly.
Delgado took the cane again, this time not to demonstrate technique but solely for the pleasure he derived in inflicting pain on such a young innocent. Linda had successfully aimed for the meat of her buttocks, but Delgado aimed for the lower, more sensitive flesh of her upper thighs, a look of stern concentration on his face.
He must have given her at least ten strokes of the cane before he finally threw it aside and went to inspect the damage he had inflicted on the girl. Her bottom was a bright scarlet, but there seemed to be no lasting marks.
Delgado kneeled before the kneeling girl, put his sweating hands on the part of her buttocks that were
the deepest red, felt the girl wince and then tasted her salty flesh with his tongue.
'Mmm!' he exclaimed. 'Stay there, and you, Mrs Powell, don't move.'
Delgado went to the other side of the room. Linda stood fixed to the spot, observing Rebecca's shuddering body, the deep crimson of her buttocks softening to a lighter rosier hue.
Delgado returned with an ice bucket. Inside the silver pail there was a bottle of very expensive cava. Delgado pulled out the green bottle and placed it on the burning heat of the girl's flesh. Rebecca exhaled a deep sigh of relief feeling the chill of the glass against her.
'You see now, Rebecca, there is much that is not normal about sex that can bring us pleasure. We have humiliated you, debased you, beat you with our stick and you have enjoyed it. You can't understand it can you, Rebecca?' he said rolling the bottle around the inflamed skin of her left buttock, letting it rest momentarily in the cleave of her bottom. Rebecca gave a little squeal of delight, before Delgado rolled the bottle up the hillock of her right buttock.
'Can you, Rebecca?'
'No,' she replied in a moist whisper.
He placed the cava back into the iced water and retrieved the cane from where he had discarded it on the floor. Linda could not believe that he was about to lash the girl again.
He whipped Rebecca as hard as he had done before, Rebecca flinching again with the shock of the pain.
'You are confused now, Rebecca, you are no longer sure what is pain and what is pleasure. You are learning to play with the extremities of heat and cold, like all artists must learn to play, to experiment.'
He caned her again over the already inflamed skin, the skin that was inflamed but cool, and lashed again.
Rebecca gave out a confused whimper. Delgado sunk to his knees, his eyes level with the girl's derriere, and pulled from the bucket a handful of ice, which he spread over the girl's pained bottom. Another sigh of deep relief came from Rebecca.
Linda watched the heave of her breasts as the ice was tenderly applied to her.
But now Delgado was going further. He trailed an ice cube between the cleft of her bottom, along the ridge of her bottom and then down the pink folds of her pussy lips, at first with a slow deliberate action, Rebecca's face creasing in the bliss that Delgado was bringing to her. He found the protuberance of her little pink clitoris and rubbed the ice cube over and over it, until Rebecca's mouth opened, her eyes scrunching tight as the burning cold of the ice sent currents of pleasure through her body.
Linda was sure that the pleasure was too overwhelming for the girl not to climax. But just as she seemed to reach the peak of orgasm, Delgado removed his finger.
'Rebecca, you must utilise this energy, not let it wastefully dissipate in your pleasure. You will need it soon enough, for in a moment I am going to ask you to be creative.'
Rebecca, excited beyond reason, reached her hand down to stimulate her burning clitoris, to bring release to the hungry desire that Delgado had stirred inside her. He tossed her hand derisorily away from the hard burning bulge.
'Wait Rebecca,' he commanded reproachfully. 'You must do exactly what I tell you to do.'
He reached into the ice bucket and extracted more cubes. Spreading her labial lips wide and finding her opening, he placed an ice cube inside her.
The bathetic disappointment of not reaching a climax was replaced by the sensual feeling of the ice inside her. Delgado placed another cube and then another. Rebecca moaned her delight as each cube was inserted. With one hand, Delgado extracted more ice and with the other he pushed the cubes firmly into her.
The girl was shivering with delight, but just as the first time when Linda was sure that Rebecca would come, he plucked the shaved cubes from inside her, enough to ease the pressure of her insistent orgasm.
'Stand up Rebecca.'
Rebecca got to feet. Linda watched a slither of ice trickle down the white of her thigh.
'You feel angry now, because you were so close. Because if I had continued to do what I was doing you would have felt the release of orgasm. I want you to use that frustration, and I want you to turn all that bitter anger onto Mrs Powell. Mrs Powell beat you and Mrs Powell enjoyed it, because I don't think she likes you very much. I have been watching her watching you and I have seen how she enjoyed your humiliation. Now it is your turn, Rebecca.'
Linda looked at Delgado incredulously.
'Now, Mrs Powell. This is your lesson too. What I have said is true. You enjoyed punishing Rebecca. Are you going to deny it?'
'No, but...'
'But part of you also envied her. You want to know what it feels like to be caned, don't you? You too want to explore the boundaries of pain. It is no good denying it. And even if you do, you still have no choice, because if you don't do what I tell you or what Rebecca tells you then you can walk out now, and I don't think that you would do that. First, because you would lose too much face. You've probably made a great deal about studying with me, and maybe people would laugh at you. I am famous for my life experiments so I don't care what you might say about me. Your reputation is much more important to you than mine is to me, but the second reason is more important. I saw how you were mocking me this morning, how you wanted to disagree with me, but I also know what this is. This is what psychologists call repression, that's all your resistance is, you see in me a strong dominant personality and your mind can't cope with it, because you know that you want to be dominated, that you want to submit to my will.'
'I don't think that way at all...'
'Oh shut up you stupid English girl and take off your clothes,' Delgado said wearily.
'How dare you?' Linda spoke quietly, staring up to Delgado, less frightened or indignant than excited.
It wasn't so much a slap as a tap across her face.
'Take off your clothes! Let's stop playing games,' Delgado repeated.
Linda hated the man, found him totally repulsive, but she also knew that in part, at least, he was right. There was something terrifyingly awesome about him, about the power he could exercise over people; she had just witnessed a demonstration of it with Rebecca.
'You know you want this. You know you do, so do as I say.'
She was wearing a peach knee-length skirt and a white blouse. She could see how Delgado was staring at her body, the plump rotundity of her breasts, the slender legs. She did not know where the words came from. It sounded like a challenge to him, to that seemingly implacable authority.
'You take off my clothes then.'
'Mrs Powell, if I have to take off your clothes then you will suffer because I will beat you so hard, much harder than Rebecca here. You won't be able to sit down for a week.'
'You take off my clothes,' she repeated. She wanted him to beat her. She wanted the firm correction of her supposed art teacher, and at that precise moment she wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
Her recalcitrance seemed to enrage him. He stepped up to her, towered above her, looked into her eyes, and then suddenly all the angry fire seemed to leave him. He asked softly, almost meekly: 'You want me to take off your clothes?'
'Yes.'
'I will hurt you.'
'Yes.'
He momentarily looked away, seemingly staring off into distance and then their eyes met, like lovers' eyes, Linda thought later. Delgado placed his hands on the side of her neck, reached his hand down to the front of Linda's blouse, grabbed the material tightly in his hand and then ripped it open, exposing the peach, patterned lace half-bra. Buttons flew off her shirt. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. When she thought about all this later, she imagined that she had watched the simple pearl buttons of her blouse topple onto the dirty wooden floor.
She felt the shirt being torn from her body. He ripped it off, his face remained implacably stern, but his hands were savage. She could smell his tobacco breath on her. He tossed the tattered blouse onto the floor. Linda could see Rebecca enjoying the spectacle, taking pleasure in Linda's humiliation.
The violent sound of the material ripping caused her labial lips to pulse with excitement.
She stood before him now completely naked apart from the two inch heeled shoes she wore, all her clothes in tatters around her.
'Kneel on the chair!' he bellowed at her.
She did not move but stayed exactly where she was. He could not believe her insolence.
'Make me,' she said with childish petulance.
He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to the chair, but Linda refused to kneel the way she knew he wanted her to.
'Rebecca, hold her!'
Rebecca discovering a new maliciousness grabbed Linda by the hands and dragged her up into the position that Delgado required her to be in. Even though Rebecca held her hard by the wrists, Linda knew that she was much more powerful. She could have resisted quite easily, as she knew ultimately she could have fought against Delgado.
Behind the game of sexual power being played out there was another deeper, darker battle going on between her and Delgado. She wanted to submit her body to him, for him to beat her, but she refused to submit her whole will as Rebecca had done. This she knew had nothing to do with being a better artist; this was about the strength of her will. Even if Delgado was going to lash her as he had done with Rebecca, she knew she was challenging Delgado's absurd pretensions that had so impressed the others.
As she looked into Rebecca's cold and trancelike eyes she felt the cane descend on her, the red heat of pain stretched across her buttocks. Another stroke. It was delicious, delectable to be held like this, Rebecca digging her nails into Linda's wrists, her bottom exposed to Delgado's furious eyes and the furious beating he was delivering to her.