The Marquis' Book of Pleasure & Property of the Marquis

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “He told me to spread my legs and raise my ass, which I knew would show how wet my pussy had become. It had to be gleaming in the mellow candle light of the master’s stateroom and I’m sure everyone saw my lewd presentation. A vulgar banter followed, which I tried very hard to ignore. Part of me wanted to get the hell out of the room, but the bigger part of me was an unapologetic slut who enjoyed every minute of the exhibition. Soon, there were whips and floggers, even a paddle coming down on my back side. My shoulders were scorched, and my bare pussy and anal crack filleted with a whip. Every cut seemed to dig deep into the soft flesh—I was surprised I wasn’t dripping blood. A woman’s nails raked over my punished skin. Then someone came at me from behind, working a cock along the crevice, gathering sex juices from my cunt below and using them to lubricate me. Enough of that wet slime and he finally started prodding the hole with the head of his dick. I felt his hand grasp my ass cheeks and squeeze—I knew what came next. Although when he shoved himself inside me, the pain was excruciating and I lurched forward, moaning. I wasn’t ready for anything that severe. Someone grabbed my hair and lifted my head from the floor, slapping at my cheeks to reprimand me. ‘Silence!’ the voice attacked my ears. The face before me seemed all twisted and grimacing—I’m not even sure now if it was a man or a woman. Then as soon as they moved off, someone else followed—a man. He was on his knees, too, his cock shoved down my throat until I gagged. Neither man who used me cared how my body revolted from their joint attack. I’d seized up in fear. I even choked, spitting the one man out, but he forced his cock back into my mouth. Neither man cared that I didn’t want this. Their desire was ferocious—one crotch banging against my face, the other against my ass. I remember hating every minute of the attack, but my gaping cunt dripped with the evidence of an arousal I couldn’t squelch. It was a brutal rape—that’s how I think of it now.”

  She stopped talking suddenly. Her eyes had drifted as she spoke, but now looked directly into Alex’s face. She could hardly believe that she’d been so blunt in her description.

  “And…?” he asked.

  “And I was coming in the midst of it.” Laney’s face heated from a terrific blush moving upward from her neck. “My body seemed to burst its seams with orgasms, as if I’d become disconnected from their vulgar use of me. I hid my face, I was so ashamed. I hoped that I’d be done, once the two had climaxed, but as soon as the man in my ass orgasmed, he moved off wiping his seed on my ass cheeks. He was immediately replaced by another man. There was a second man ready to take my mouth.” Laney unconsciously licked her lips.

  “Having to concentrate so hard on the men who fucked my mouth and ass, I couldn’t focus on the room around me: how many people, that sort of thing. I gathered that I was the entertainment for an extravagant cocktail party. The women were formally dressed, dripping jewels, most of the men wore tuxedoes. My part in the activities continued for quite some time, but I don’t really know how long it went on. I wasn’t thinking very clearly and after a while, one face just blurred into the next.” She sighed. “Let’s just say, I was well used, my body orifices brutalized—except my pussy, which must have been off limits. Maybe that was Erik’s decision. Of course, they played with it every chance they got, amused to see me grovel with a need I couldn’t satisfy…

  “By the time I was done with the last man, my mouth was sore. So was my ass—I mean, these cocks were huge, or at least most of them seemed to be. Or maybe it’s just the big ones I remember. I don’t know.” She took a breath.

  “And, of course, Laney hated it,” Alex said, smirking.

  “Right,” she smiled wryly. “I can’t believe I’m telling you ass this…”

  Alex only grinned.

  “No, I didn’t hate it. My mind kept coming back to Marquis Island, remembering the woman I became when I was here. The woman I’d consented to be when I agreed to wear the bracelet. In some ways it felt like rape—it was abusive and very demeaning, but I had agreed to it in advance, and while it was going on, I surrendered. For reasons that still escape me, I experienced satisfaction that wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, but it was bigger than emotional, bigger than physical. I touched something in me…” her voice trailed off to a whisper, “I really don’t know what…”

  In the silence that followed, flies buzzed in the heated room, and the rushing sound of the wind in the trees filled the air. The two waited until she was ready to begin again.

  “The fucking became so routine that it hardly fazed me after a while, then it was suddenly over. Cum was dripping from my ass and mouth. There were a few jeers, a little prodding, and at one point, I felt a whip on me again. Then the master who’d retained me for the evening started shoving me toward the door with his boot. I moved as fast as I could, which was hardly fast enough for him. When I reached the door, he opened it and I crawled out. Sounds cruel, doesn’t it? But I was numb by then. My robe—the one I’d dropped before I entered—wasn’t there. So, I scrambled to my feet and raced through the ship’s hallways to find our stateroom. I was so confused that I made several wrong turns in that blasted maze, and I ran into several people on the way. Got lots of stares, a few laughs. By that time of night, most of the people returning to their staterooms were pretty drunk. I remember one woman in particular enjoyed staring at me and my embarrassment, looking at this panicking female, with whip marks all over her body, running like a squealing pig all over the place. Later, Erik reminded me how drunk they were, and a mess I was—they’d never recognize me in the morning. I had to hope that was true.

  “Anyway, I finally banged on our stateroom door and collapsed into Erik’s arms.”

  Laney paused, her brows knit in thought. “Erik was really cool to me—I mean cool as in chilling and masterful. He told me I’d been a ‘good girl’ for obeying him and he was proud of me. But he didn’t sound like Erik at all. He was patronizing as if he were speaking to a small child. Then after his initial praise, he didn’t say very much. He didn’t even ask what I’d done. I wondered if he was in the master’s stateroom. He could have been, but I’ll never know. I had to live with the night on my own without his help. Maybe he was testing me to see if I was suited for this kind of scene—maybe it had been planned in advance. I had so many questions. I still do.” Laney fell silent again, going inside herself, dwelling on the awkward moments with Erik that were so fresh in her mind now; it almost tricked her into believing that he was still alive.

  Alex pondered her story for a moment with some thoughtful consideration of his own, but he didn’t comment further, saying only, “And the second time?”

  “Yes.” She took a deep breath, remembering that occasion and how different it was from the first. “Erik called me at the office—I’m a lawyer. I was in the middle of deposing a witness. I tried to explain that, but Erik insisted I drop everything. He’d never called me out of work before, but the sound of his voice was almost hypnotizing; I had to go. My leaving was all very professionally handled, even if my sex was dripping by the time I walked out the door. There was a puddle of juices on the seat of my car when I reached Erik’s office.”

  Laney realized how physically stimulating the words of her story had become, how her body responded and her desire increased, how the throbbing energy in her belly spread so her body was quaking with need.

  “It must be nerve-wracking not knowing what comes next,” Alex interjected.

  “It is. It’s also what made the situation so, well…” she blushed again, “arousing. It’s funny how the mystery grabs me by the throat and shakes me down to nothing but my body. Going mindless isn’t easy for me; perhaps that’s why the extreme sexual demands in being the Marquis’ property appealed to me.”

  “Why you’re here now?”

  “Why I’m here now. Yes.” She nodded in agreement. “Erik was at his desk, looking as cold as I’d ever seen him. I wasn’t sure I liked him that way. I missed his smile. But at that point there was nothing I could do to prevent what happened next; I was
already committed. ‘I have a friend you need to please, Laney,’ he said. He nodded to a door connecting his office with another one—apparently whosever it was, was out for the afternoon. I hesitated for just a second but he glared at me so sharply that I barged right into the other office.

  “There was nothing particularly unusual about the scene. The master was just a businessman, and not someone particularly appealing, or unusual. He seemed young, though he was already balding. A little paunch around the middle, but a reasonably handsome face and clear blue eyes. I remember that most about him.

  “He directed me to kneel, which I did. Then I took his cock in my mouth and worked it from soft to hard in about sixty seconds. I think you can tell when a man’s really horny, and they are really in charge; their dicks rise straight as lampposts. If he hadn’t been sure of what he was doing, that little pecker would have stayed soft. But he was sure. He knew exactly what he wanted of me.” Laney could hear the resentment crawl into her voice. Alex noted it, too. “Once he was hard, he pulled me to my feet and laid me back against the desk. He was jacking off, telling me to open my blouse and climb out of my skirt. That was awkward, but I managed to struggle from my clothes. Then he wanted my bra and my stockings removed. He wasn’t satisfied until I was completely naked, writhing on my back against the desk. While I undressed, he kept jacking his prick so it was spitting pre-cum all over me. He pulled at my tits and squeezed my nipples until I squealed. I could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted to hurt me. He was more of a bully than the other masters I’d been with. I don’t have all that much experience, but he was very different from the men on Marquis Island, quite different than the Latin stranger on the ship, and nothing at all like Erik.

  “He wanted to abuse me longer, but he was too close to coming to wait. He finally plunged his prick in my cunt and finished off in about thirty seconds. I don’t think I’d ever felt so empty as I did then. I may have come, but the incident left me drained. It made me question a lot of things about the arrangement I’d agreed to.”

  “I don’t imagine Laney Priestly, important lawyer, businessman’s trophy wife would ever want to picture herself in such a lowly role as whore to a wussy salesman with a fondness for sexual perversion.”

  “I never said the man was a salesman,” Laney came back, suspiciously.

  “Salesman…middle management…a white-collar flunky; that’s what you described. Doesn’t matter.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Although it shouldn’t make a difference who my master gives me to.”

  Laney watched as Alex waltzed about the room a while, flinching when he seemed to take some interest in the books on the library shelves. When he finally passed by the thin black volume she still coveted and moved on, she breathed a sigh of relief. He continued his inspection silently, then finally moved back to Laney and stood over her, eyes infused with some darker purpose, a different kind of energy than she’d felt from him all day. He leaned down and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. Maybe for a moment her lust had abated, but it all came back the moment he took her hand. Something wild, exhilarating and crude made her heart and loins beat in sudden panic. She caught the scent of her pussy rising in the air.

  “If you were to submit to me on this island, it would not be because I wear the Marquis’ mark.”

  “No?”

  “I don’t have the right to fuck you on demand. What you do, you’ll consent to; it’s the way I prefer to have it with the women I want.”

  “And you want me?”

  “Of course, I want you. I could bind you, beat you, make you suffer and then take your ass for the sport of it,” he rattled off glibly. “But you better make it clear that I have free reign to do that.”

  Any answer she could venture was caught in her throat; her distress plainly visible as Alex ran his hand along her arm. His warm masculine body was so easy to desire. He was not unlike Erik, being forceful in the same way. She stood there too stunned to speak.

  “I’ll bet your tongue’s not tied in court. Hum?” he raised his brows, still goading. “What happened to the Laney Priestly who’s bold enough to wear the bracelet of a master, daring enough to be owned by sadists? Where is she now?”

  “I know what I want to say… but…”

  “Hey, if this is too much for you…”

  “But it’s not too much for me.”

  What she couldn’t tell him was how much she really wanted him.

  He pulled close with his arm going around her waist, and touched her face, his thumb running gently over her lips. She parted them, drawing them inside her mouth, and tasting the salty surfaces, smelling the scent of his skin. She drank him in gulps, every one settling low in her body. Her body spilled its lust, as he captured her face between his hands and kissed her hard on the mouth. She opened her lips for him and let his tongue meet hers. His one hand dropped between her legs and felt the crotch of her shorts, one finger nudging its way along the flesh of her inner thigh until it found the moist opening of her vaginal cleft. She pulled back, allowing him access to her and relishing the sweetness of that human touch, that masculine touch and the need that touch provoked. She moved against his hand unthinkingly, her cunt squeezed against his fingers in a rhythm strong enough to make her come—if only his finger had stayed inside her.

  But he pushed her back. “Some sorry skirt that is,” he said.

  She bit her lip, flirtatiously.

  “So you don’t bother to take the rules seriously? Is that it?”

  “No, I do take the rules seriously.”

  “Really? Doesn’t look as though you did.”

  “I swear, I just never….”

  “…never expected that the man who would take you to Marquis Island would know about the Marquis’ rules? Could there be a reason for your disobedience?” Her emotions rose wildly, impetuous as a storm at sea. “Could it be that you want to be punished? I saw the way you responded to that strap. I think that you’re so needy, so obsessed with the thought of getting punished that you’ll do anything to get what you want, including defying the very things that bracelet requires.”

  “So, you’re going to punish me?” she finally voiced her thoughts. From a hot, quick fuck to purge their lust—to being punished? How far would this go?

  “If you admit that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll do.”

  She pulled away, shyly, afraid to even look at him, but he drew her back. Her legs felt as if they’d buckle underneath her, and the bum ankle throbbed with pain. He searched her long and hard; the tension between them bearable, but it suddenly broke.

  Alex shook his head, then finally let her go and moved away. He turned and gathered up the papers that had wrapped their sandwiches, and stuffed them into his knapsack, then headed toward the door.

  Laney watched his movements feeling numbed by the shocking turns this day had taken. Alex was at the doorway. She could let him go and forget everything that had been discussed that day. She could let the fisherman take her back to port, so he could get back to his fish and she to the hard rule of law. The irony of the moment suddenly forced her reply:

  “Alex! Wait!” she called to him in sudden and unexpected desperation. He turned, but just briefly. “Please!”

  He stopped, waiting on demand, but not happily.

  “You’re right. About everything. I am a powder keg. I’m obsessed with punishment. The thought of pain thrills me. The fear of never again feeling the sting of a master’s order leave me breathless, or a master’s whip cut into my flesh, or having a master use me like a toy—I can’t live with that… That fear brought me here.” Two fat tears ran down her cheeks. “Yes, punish me, Alex. Please! Do with me what you will. You may not bear the Marquis’ mark, but…oh, but let’s pretend you do.”

  Like Laney the lawyer, there was not even the slightest quavering in her voice as she begged the fisherman.

  A testy quiet followed as the two stared each other down, then the knapsack that he’d flung over o
ne shoulder slipped off Alex’s arm and fell to the floor with a gentle thud.

  “Prove it, Laney, show me what you want.”

  Show him? How? Her mind searched quickly for an answer while her eyes darted around the room and finally rested on the leather that Alex had pulled from the cabinet and left lying on the back of one couch. She lowered herself in spirit as she remembered the past, remembered Erik, and the stranger on the cruise ship, the wussy exec in Erik’s office, and, of course, her days here on Marquis Island. Knowing what she had to do, she moved toward the discarded leather strap, picked it up and walked to the waiting Alex Greenwood, whose eyes still smoldered, whose attitude was smug, whose clear reading of her had brought them to this moment.

  “Here,” she said, almost defiantly, “you want to punish me, then do it.”

  He snickered, as he swiped the leather from her hand and moved into the great room beyond, where a breeze off the ocean was cooling the air.

  “So, come here, Ms. Priestly. We’ll pretend I’m the master and you’re my slave.”

  Chapter Four

  “Take off your clothes,” he started simply after settling into a chair.

  She waited, suddenly stunned by the very idea of what she had agreed to, these cool, crisp words from another stranger…more demands, and any resistance melted. Her heart was beating hard, her pussy raw with want, and she could foresee in her mind’s eye becoming the servile slut she’d once been trained to be.