The Marquis' Book of Pleasure & Property of the Marquis

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “Yes, sir. And thank you.”

  He looked at her strangely, as if thanking her for what just took place seemed a little odd.

  She would have to agree.

  Chapter Nine

  Two days later, Laney was on the train to Prague, sitting in a seat by the window when an attractive couple in their thirties sat down in the seats opposite her. They were both elegantly dressed: he in a tailored black, pinstriped suit with a gold tie and matching handkerchief, she in a sleekly styled designer suit, the color of a rich Merlot. Her purse, her shoes, her impressive gold jewelry complimented her clothes perfectly. The two looked like a matched set. Laney would have thought the pair had just stepped from an advertisement in Vogue. Sitting opposite of this elegant couple, she felt a little dowdy in her casual peasant skirt and cotton blouse, although they were very much in style for the season and not particularly inexpensive—a splurge she’d made in a trendy Paris boutique. Obviously, she and her new companions had very different agendas in mind; they certainly traveled in vastly different circles. In fact, it was almost a little surprising that they’d chosen these seats, since there were many that were empty in the train car.

  She looked up at them, making quick work of her evaluation, smiled when she caught their eye, then put her head back in the book she was reading, paying no attention to their curious stares, until the woman finally leaned forward and touched her knee.

  “I couldn’t help notice how your jewelry compliments your attire,” she said, with an impressively languid lilt to her French accent.

  It took a moment for Laney to understand that, yes, she was referring to the bracelet, which had separated from the half dozen bangles she wore with it—her only means to disguise it from the casual observer. Once again, the other bracelets hadn’t done a very good job.

  Another scene? So fast? Was everyone in Europe privy to her secret, which would make it not much of a secret at all? After the fact, Laney had realized that she had asked for no proof from the shopkeeper that he was a member of the Marquis’ circle, and she might well have given herself up to that stranger for no reason. It didn’t matter now, but she would have to be more careful.

  Laney shifted in her seat, feeling the leather beneath her bottom caress the bare flesh of her pussy—since her trip began, there was no question that she’d follow the Marquis’ rules. She was reminded again of one benefit of those rules: if she rocked just right in her seat, the act massaged her clitoris in a way that just might bring on a subtle climax. The idea of allowing that to happen hadn’t crossed her mind in a long while—until now. “Do you have a bracelet like it?” Laney asked the woman; just a little impertinently.

  “Oh, I would never,” the woman gushed, her words seemed to drip from her lips like honey. “My husband and I are traveling to Prague; is that your destination?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  She smiled more broadly and her green eyes glittered. “He bears the mark.”

  “Oh?”

  “Darling, show it to the girl.” She called her ‘girl’, which quickly put her in her submissive place. Alluring though the woman was, there was a child’s naïve enthusiasm in her manner, which made her just a little creepy, especially since she was dressed in such sophisticated clothes. She leaned back, deferring to the man.

  “You’ll have to excuse my wife, it’s not often she’s with me when an occasion like this presents itself.”

  He sounded clipped and masterly, which gave Laney reason to shiver. She took a sudden nosedive into the submissive attitude that the situation called for. He had the tanned, polished look of an aristocrat and his manner was piercingly cool. She felt compelled to speak:

  “Obviously, sir, if you are entitled to have me, I have no say in the matter; I understand that. I have, however, been recently of use to another master and…”

  “What is it…” he cut her off, “your ass or your cunt that’s aching?” he bluntly asked.

  Laney blushed, when she didn’t want to. She wondered if anyone in the rail car had overheard the conversation. She realized that keeping her cool in these circumstances wasn’t easy.

  She couldn’t answer the man. In fact, it was probably a big mistake to raise an objection in order to alter their plans. Not that it wouldn’t be interesting being with these two. They were physically gorgeous people and this might be a chance for a sexual interlude that did not include the sadistic brutality most masters were determined to wreak on her compliant body. Of course, ‘Mr. Starched and Formal’ here might be as much of a sadist as every other master she’d been with.

  “I’m sorry. I’m probably out of line,” Laney felt compelled to answer, bowing her head with respect.

  “Yes, more than likely,” the gentleman returned. “But I’m afraid that you’re in our hands now. Compartment 11 in the rear, go there now and we’ll be there shortly.”

  At that moment, she was the Marquis’ trained beast, right out of his dastardly book. As that thought settled on her, her sexual body turned on her, betraying her with a moist snatch beginning to pulsate already—she was aching for a cock to complete what her fantasizing had begun. Compartment 11 in the rear, she repeated to herself.

  She turned her mind off, thoughtlessly rising from her seat, and moving toward the back of the train, already feeling a little dreamy with the heavy ache in her lower regions expanding rapidly. Maybe it was the vibration of the train and its innate erotic allure that had her body humming, maybe the two gorgeously dressed people, maybe just seeing the Marquis’ mark on the wrist of this master. She knew every nuance of that simple tattoo for it was a duplicate of the one on Erik’s wrist. And so like Erik, the man’s demeanor radiated that unique quality of masterful authority that immediately connected with her hunger for surrender. He’d held out his manicured hand, and as he pulled away the starched white cuff, his gold cufflinks glimmering in the mellow morning light, she knew before it came into view what she’d see.

  The wife? She was a very different story, but Laney knew she would adapt.

  The wife was stately and proud and her natural elegance seemed to swell when she was on her feet—it must have been the stilettos that matched her suit that made her look so regal. However, she barged right into the compartment in front of her husband, and pulled the waiting Laney from the chair in a not particularly elegant fashion.

  “Oh! Let me play with her, darling, please,” she looked back at her husband. Not bothering to get his formal consent, she turned back to Laney. “Let’s be a good girl and remember your place,” she looked down her pointed, freshly powered nose judgmentally. “You don’t sit where the master sits; that’s a terrible violation of the rules. If you’re not careful we’ll have to punish you. Won’t we, Bruno?” Her green eyes got bigger with excitement.

  “I’m sorry,” Laney no more than mouthed as she stood up. She was more amused than frightened of the woman.

  “Jannie, stand back and let me see her,” the husband interjected.

  Jannie’s eyes narrowed, while her lips formed a petulant pout and she sat down in one of the facing seats.

  “Let’s look at her,” her husband said, on taking Laney’s hand, and running his free hand over her cotton covered breasts. “Naked?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And naked underneath?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He tugged at the hem of her blouse and quickly had it over her head and discarded on the floor.

  “Nice, very nice,” he said, on observing Laney’s rounded orbs, and the perky nipples. Once again, his hand glided over her chest, then using both hands, he pushed her skirt from her hips and it dropped to the floor. He’d bared her completely, except for her shoes, which left Laney shivering nervously in the center of the compartment. The blinds barely covered the windows, and there was no way to make the scene more private, not that she would have been given the opportunity to do so.

  His hand moved down her belly, causing her to hiss, “Ah, sweet!”

  �
�Turned on so quickly?” he sneered.

  “That’s how I’ve been trained, sir,” her voice soft and breathy.

  “Then you’re doing very well.”

  His fingers dove into the steamy portal and played there for a time, caressing the delicate flesh of her femininity and within seconds almost causing her to orgasm. She rose up on her tiptoes seething, but teetered off balance, having to catch herself on the master’s arm. She ended up falling into the man, and blushed with embarrassment before she pushed herself back upright.

  His hand came around and slapped her ass with one firm smack against her buttocks, as he said cryptically, “Let’s not do that again.”

  “No, sir.”

  The pouting woman waited impatiently while her husband continued his inspection of Laney’s body; and it was a thorough one. For the detailed examination of her cunt hole and her ass, she was bent over at the waist, with her hands resting on the seat to keep her steady—her ass directly in the wife’s line of vision. Only after removing latex gloves from his suit jacket and snapping one over his right hand was he ready to penetrate her ass. Once that gloved hand was liberally lubricated with some slimy substance, he stuffed most of it into Laney’s ass. Holding steady was nearly impossible when he first shoved his hand inside the doorway, but she managed to stay balanced and not offend him again.

  “I wonder if my cock will fit,” Jannie wondered aloud as she moved to her feet. “Bruno, darling, please let me try.”

  Cock? A woman with a cock? Laney instantly took note of that passing comment. Not impossible, she told herself. Although she braced herself for the possibility that Jannie might not be exactly what she seemed, having made a quick study of her, Laney had to conclude that the sophisticated female in the merlot suit was all female and couldn’t be anything else. The thick prick summarily shoved into her rectum had to be a dildo. It was.

  Laney looked back seeing the woman standing directly behind her, her face lit evilly to show her devilish purpose, as she rammed the thing into her bottom as hard as she could.

  “Oh, darling, she will do nicely, let me get myself prepared.” Her irrepressible excitement made the whole compartment buzz with life.

  One of the compartment’s seats conveniently pulled out to make a bed onto which the three were soon entangled, with Laney’s mouth covering the man’s erection as he lay back on the bed, and the Jannie moving in behind her with the cock strapped into a harness that was fitted around her groin. The woman ran her thick wand up and down Laney’s cleft until the shapely derriere began to automatically respond.

  “Oh, my!” the woman gasped. “What joy she’s going to be!” She began to prod the anal opening, with each movement shoving a little bit more of the enormous prick into Laney’s behind. Suddenly, with no advance warning, she shoved hard, practically falling over Laney’s back and delivering her cock deep into her submissive’s entrails.

  “Oh, gawd please!” Laney wailed. The man’s cock had been awkwardly dislodged from her mouth by the violent move, and it took some seconds for Laney to correct the situation, while Jannie was in the midst of banging her asshole.

  “Come back here now.” Bruno calmly guided her head to his engorged member and Laney went down on him again, lapping and slurping ferociously in order to make him fully erect. So brutally used, she could hardly concentrate on sucking Bruno’s penis. Even more difficult was containing the rising pleasure, with the sensations from the anal rape profoundly affecting all her senses and all her nerves and every bit of physical will.

  It wasn’t long before Bruno was ready to have her cunt, and pulled her forward, causing the woman’s prick to fall from Laney’s ass.

  “Oh, Bruno,” the wife pouted.

  He ignored her snit, while Laney straddled his hips and sat down with the cock going deep inside her. Laney fell into the man’s body, kissing his lips with a wet and open mouth. Every minute with his cock inside her was one to relish. ‘Oh, how she missed this!’ She truly hoped to have the man to himself, but that hope was sadly short-lived.

  “Fuck her again, Jannie,” the man finally called out during a brief pause in a string of ardent kisses.

  The woman was at Laney’s wiggling ass again with the thick head of her fake prick poised to strike. The sudden shove forward was not wholly unexpected, not after what happened before, and Laney managed to contain the desire to vent her feelings about the move with a string of four-letter words.

  With both pricks inside her, her body became no more than a sex toy for the two to use. The husband got a particularly tight snatch to screw, while the wife in all her regal glory rocked happily inside Laney’s bottom. The prick had been designed with a protrusion that fit nicely into Jannie’s crotch to massage her clit and ‘g’ spot. Thus every stroke of the fake prick produced an opposing one in the woman’s body. She simply roared:

  “Yes, yes, yes, you little animal! I love fucking sluts!” Her rounded hips jerked forward again and again, with each shove tearing at Laney’s ass. The husband was just as forceful, ramming his cock until jets of cum spewed into Laney’s sopping portal.

  “Uggghh, ughhhhhhhh,” he grunted, with a cry that seemed to splinter the flimsy walls of the compartment. Laney groaned, and the unquenchable Jannie purred, her body shaking madly with orgasm ripping through her like a freight train.

  A seething stillness followed until Jannie finally lifted her head, and after spying the half-covered windows of the compartment, exclaimed with great glee, “Oh, my look! We have an audience.”

  The three heads turned toward the door and the glass panels on either side, with their tattered old shades. Peeking in the window were two men and a woman, smiling, and now just a little embarrassed to have been caught peeking.

  “I hope we amused them.” Jannie waved, while Bruno and Laney discreetly looked away.

  “My wife is an exhibitionist, in case you haven’t guessed,” he said.

  After the trio had exhausted themselves, the couple made quick work of sending Laney on her way. She was abruptly pushed off the bed, while the two snuggled lovingly in the aftermath of their uproarious sex.

  “We won’t be needing you any longer,” Bruno told her, absently.

  “Yes, girl, take your clothes and leave now,” Jannie haughtily dismissed her, then she went back to smooching with her husband as she lewdly wiggled her way atop his wasted body, her bottom undulating seductively as if she were ready to start all over again.

  To be so summarily sent away now that her usefulness was over was reminiscent of the orgy on the cruise ship when, still naked, she was ordered from the stateroom. But Laney had no desire to return to the general population of the train without her clothes, so she quickly pulled her skirt up over her hips and tossed her blouse over her head. She picked up her bag and was gone before either of the groveling pair said another word. There was no need for a tender goodbye, or any kind of goodbye at all; Bruno already had his Jannie working his cock again. She straddled his middle with her ass toward his face, while he slapped her jiggling fanny. It wasn’t until then that Laney noticed the rather ugly brand on the woman’s ass.

  Laney left smiling, aroused and denied, but pleased, nonetheless. Her only wish was that there had been an opportunity to take all the sexual arousal they raised in her and bring it to completion.

  Chapter Ten

  Laney’s arrival in Prague was uneventful compared with the journey there. She easily slipped into the streets of the foreign city, initially looking like a tourist with plenty of luggage in hand; that is until she arrived at her hotel and could dump her cargo. She’d chosen a quaint but small inn, rather than one of the large international hotels, preferring the cozy ambience, which would lend itself to the mysterious purpose of her trip. It was her first time in the city, and she hoped that while she waited for the Marquis to appear and sweep her away, she’d take in some of the sights. This was a beautiful city: its castles and cathedrals, the Old World aura locked inside its unique architecture, immedia
tely transported her to a time when women were more deferential to men. She could thrive on this mood, and to have that submissive feeling swirling all about her was as heavenly as sex. Well, almost.

  Occasionally, she remembered what brought her to Prague, and the lawyer in her was stunned by her willingness to throw caution out the door. This trek might be nothing but a wild goose chase, or the most unsafe thing she’d ever done. She could hear Sandra now, trying to talk her down from this scheme, presenting her with a string of cogent arguments that should send her packing right away. Just look at her…traveling to Prague because some old man in a bookshop in Paris goaded her with the promise of actually meeting the Marquis. Still, nothing in those bouts of sanity caused her to change her mind.

  ‘As far as finding the man you want, you can be assured that if you make the trip, he’ll know you’re coming. And he’ll find you...’

  The words still needled her, in fact, they’d driven her to this strange city.

  And what should she do now? Wave a red flag? Put an advertisement in the local paper? Stand on a street corner, waving the bracelet so she’d be seen?

  ‘…he’ll know you’re coming…’

  How would he know she was coming? Who would tell him? The shopkeeper in Paris, of course, but did that mean that she’d been tailed? Chilling! Maddening! She was definitely out of her mind to be there with so many questions unanswered. Why was she here? What made her so certain she’d be safe? She had to think on that a moment. Bottom line, she had trusted Erik—she still did. She knew that he would never lead her into a dangerous situation, into anything she couldn’t handle. Even now, even with him gone, her faith in him had not been shaken.