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The Marquis' Book of Pleasure & Property of the Marquis

Page 33

by Lizbeth Dusseau


  Sadism rarely looks pretty and the pretty Laney Priestly did not look pretty now. Her face looked taut with pain, her limbs were already tired from the strain of the suspension, and the hurt in her ass and breasts seemed to billow forth, coming to her in waves and then more waves. Her mouth opened and she breathed raggedly.

  Alex approached her, holding the leather handle of a cat o’ nine tails in his fist, while the braided leather talons dangled from his other hand. She starred at it in horror.

  “Look at me!” he snapped.

  She couldn’t help but look up, although she had no desire to greet this man’s gaze.

  “I would think this would be the kind of thing that would satisfy a woman like you, who is bound to become the Marquis’ chattel for the rest of her life. You might want to savor these moments because they will be far more exciting for a woman of your nature than the endless monotony of mindless service that will be expected of you.”

  He touched her cheek with his hand and she glanced away.

  The sting of his hand on her cheek followed. “Don’t look away when I’m talking to you.”

  Her being trembled now, racked by pain, and consumed by the wonder of the moment, and a bizarre ecstasy of erotic feeling. All her senses took another flying leap; she might come spontaneously. The moment lasted just briefly and ended as soon as Alex turned away and moved around behind her where he’d use his weapon to punish her.

  The cat ‘o nine tails dug into her skin as he laid on the punishment decreed by the Marquis. Harrowing pain shot through her instantly, but with every pause, no matter how brief, she felt herself move another step closer to climax. She seemed to fuse with Alex’s steady cadence of blows, as they sprayed across her shoulders and splat against her ass cheeks.

  The momentum built fast. She was right there, ready, flying off the edge into a rush of sweet endorphins, only to find herself abruptly knocked from that sweet subspace by one sharp, mean crack of the weapon that was worse than all the rest. She felt as if she’d been torn apart. She was reminded of how her breasts ached and how her impaled ass seemed about to burst.

  She wanted him to come back for more. If just one more time he’d have taken her that high, that far, she would have plunged over the edge. But he knew this and backed off. Someone had walked in the door and stopped to observe.

  “She’s all yours, sir,” Laney heard Alex say.

  Because he was behind her, she had no idea what Alex did next or to whom he handed off the task of finishing her punishment.

  Quiet bristled all around her. Then little noises followed—the scraping of shoes, the clicking of heels, and a few murmured voices speaking a foreign tongue. Her eyes were closed, her head bowed, her body almost hanging from her wrists as it slumped forward. Her legs felt like jelly and she had to pee. Her limbs ached, so did her ass and her breasts, which still endured the suction bells with increasing irritation.

  Something at her chin raised it up and she opened her eyes on the Marquis.

  “Always on the brink of climax… that’s where I prefer to leave my little bitches. That way your pussy will be ripe for me.”

  He teasingly ran his fingers over her flushed skin from which she felt a shivering fire and gasped. Mouth open, she breathed deeply, shuddering every few seconds with her whole body jerking again, as it had when Alex whipped her. She might have gone on like this forever, but the Marquis dislodged the two glass suction bells and handed them off to someone else. He motioned for someone to remove the dildo from her ass.

  “I want her upstairs in my room,” he said. Then he cupped her cheek lightly in his palm and stared into her eyes, communicating nothing that Laney could grasp. So cold, so remote, so mysterious.

  ***

  Laney lay on the Marquis’ fluffy mattress in the midst of soft sheets that caressed her wounded skin.

  Her nipples were extremely sensitive, which was what the man chose first to play with as they made love. He kissed her deeply, while pinching the red buds. With all the potent stimulation from her torment in the dungeon, her body had become sensitized. Every touch caused her to moan. She could have come at almost any second, but she wisely waited, holding back, as he continued. His hands and lips tormented her as much as the hard punishment had.

  “Oh, dear god!” her head fell back against the pillow and her back arched as he held one nipple between his fingers and stretched it as far as the skin would allow. A river of intense pain traveled through her body…hitting every nerve on the way. “Yes, oh, yes, yes, yessssss,” she quietly hissed. Then he held her clitoris in the same pinching way and she shrieked. “Ohmygod….” Her chest thrust even higher and her entire body quivered from the delicious pain. She clenched her fists and bit into her lip to keep from screaming more. He let go and she came down, “Oh, please…” wishing only that he’d finish. That he’d take over the edge and let her climax. It was too much, too much to bear after all that had happened that day…

  At last, the Marquis rose up above her and drew his naked groin against hers. His cock quickly rose from a lazy impotency into a raging stalk that rubbed against her clitoris enough to have her mouth open in silent ecstasy.

  She spread her legs wide open and lifted her crotch, begging him to enter her, while for a time he much preferred to tease her. An expression of amusement played out on his lips.

  “You have no idea how much I’d like to make you suffer, Laney Priestly. You should pay your penance, all of it…” She should have felt threatened, but his words made little sense to her. All that she could truly focus on was the feel of his prick massaging her most private places, taking her into yet another level of arousal. She panted, waiting, breathless, her body about to explode. She couldn’t wait much longer and silently begged for mercy. To beg aloud would only provoke this sadist more.

  Suddenly, the Marquis lifted his own naked hips above her, his cock poised at the velvety opening of her vagina for one last teasing massage, then he plunged into Laney’s wet center.

  “Ohmygod, yessssssssssss,” she seethed gratefully, thanking him without actually say so.

  She bore down with her inner muscles squeezing as hard as they possibly could, and her orgasm started there, lifting her away. Her body clenched hard as she came, spasm after spasm grinding through her loins. Would they ever stop!

  With just a few determined thrusts, the old man came with a vigor that rivaled any lover, certainly any of the men she’d been with—including Erik, including Alex.

  His virile growl lifted into the air, joining her pleasured moans, then he collapsed into her. They both were breathless and satisfied.

  Afterwards the two recovered together on the bed, saying nothing, until at last, the Marquis pushed her away.

  “On the floor,” he finally ordered her. “Crawl from the room, you slut. What a wretched slut you are.”

  The cruel command made the lovemaking just prior to her dismissal tumble out of favor as one of the highlights of her ordeal, and she slunk away like a weary cat, crawling down the hallway to her room. She wouldn’t forget the Marquis fucking her; she’d never forget that, nor would she forget what a miserable sadist he could be.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Laney was forced to wait another long twenty-four hours before she heard from the Marquis again. She awaited his judgment, what he’d do with her, since she’d so grossly violated his code. She had lied and stolen the two forgotten books and tried to force her way into this life, without invitation. She still couldn’t understand what was so terrible about what she’d done. But she had learned to humble herself, keep her lips shut and accept whatever pronouncement he deemed right.

  She entered The Forum again, after being summoned by one of the mindless, naked female robots who served the household and her with acquiescent diligence. Laney cringed now every time she saw one.

  There were fewer men in the room this time, maybe a half dozen, Alex, of course, and the Marquis who was as animated as he’d been the first time, though maybe n
ot as angry or as fired up.

  “Hold her, will you,” he ordered two of the men as soon as she entered. The men came up behind her, grabbing her by the arms, and immobilizing her in their grasp. Another man came forward and raised her skirt, exposing her naked cunt.

  “You have the needle ready?” the Marquis asked to no one in particular, and he pulled a ready stool directly in front of her and sat down. His question prompted another of the masters to step forward with a small tray he set on a nearby table. The Marquis snapped latex gloves over his hands while the man attending him swathed Laney’s shaved left labia with disinfectant. The cold liquid also acted like smelling salts, jolting her back to life from the stupor that had, up to that moment, infected her brain.

  “What’s happening?” she ventured to asked, unable to stop the question from spilling out.

  “Your first piercing.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the Marquis thrust a needle through a half inch of labia flesh.

  “Ohmygod!” she seethed, as her body clenched up taut.

  In the seconds that followed, he fiddled a little more with the piercing, then he stood up and pushed the stool away. “It’s done.” He stepped back, while the grip of the two men holding her down seemed to slacken, though they did not let go. This was a good thing since her weak knees probably would not have kept her upright. “Just a little blood, but I think that’s all you’ll have. You’ll clean it with mild salt water a couple times a day and it will heal in a few weeks. Any sign of infection or swelling will obviously have to be looked into. It’s your first. But likely not the last.”

  He sighed, and stepped back further, then the two men finally let go of her arms, so she faced him on her own.

  “I have decided, Laney Priestly, that you’ll be subject to three years of enslavement.”

  “Three years? What?”

  “Hush! And I’ll explain. For three years you will become one of my in-house slaves. You’ve seen them about. My Bela waits on you now. You will be naked as she is, as all my other properties are. Bela has not worn a stitch of clothing, not even once in two years. She has three years to go with me before her life will look any different than it does now. Like her, you’ll have your duties in the household, or on the grounds of my estate, where I use properties like yourselves as mules and plow horses and gardeners, as well as for normal household duties. You’ll be beaten regularly by my valets. When I have house parties, some of my properties become ornamentation, or whores to satisfy my guests’ perverse sexual needs. After a year of service is complete, when I can be sure that they will admirably perform, I may loan out my properties. The only rule I have for these loans is that no permanent physical damage is done, which means that you’ll likely be subject to a good deal of sadistic treatment. Some of my friends and contacts pay for the privilege and they pay well. In fact, it has recently become quite a profitable venture selling the services of well-trained sexual submissives. It’s not beyond my interests to sell properties outright, particularly if I have little use for them, or I think the sale will benefit me in some way. Let’s face it, I’m a businessman, I curry favor with some clients in many ingenious ways.”

  He smiled, as if this was amusing, then paced a bit in front of her, determining what to say next.

  “I believe that about describes the life of my properties. As I mentioned a few days ago, it is not a particularly romantic or sexual one. Not glamorous at all. But you will adapt. Knowing how strong-willed you are, Laney Priestly, I suspect we will fight some good battles, but you can be sure that in time, I’ll win your compliance, and have you as mindlessly humble as the best of my properties. In time…

  “And that is where I falter a bit…” he paced away thoughtfully, while Laney tried to absorb the facts he’d just outlined. This was what she feared, maybe worse. The fact that it stirred her sexually to be that humbled, that demeaned and used, was frightening. The monotony that Alex and the Marquis mentioned would be the other side to this coin, and not one she would suffer easily—she knew that much about herself. If Alex had only been that forthcoming on the island; oh, her anger still simmered hot, though she did her best to squash it.

  The Marquis turned back, and moved in close to her as he had on that first day. It was difficult for her to imagine now that she’d been intimate with this man. They’d had sex two nights before and she felt nothing for him now, nothing. How very strange.

  “Three years, Mrs. Priestly… of course, you wouldn’t be Mrs. Priestly anymore. The tattoo would have to be altered and I’d find a name to call you that pleases me. By the time your three years are over, barring an extension for bad behavior that might increase your sentence, you will have lost most of the personality you have now. You will be more subdued, more resigned, the dreams of your youth will have vanished and you will regain only some of your life back…but all that is too far away for me to speculate about now.

  “Or…” he stopped, as if he were questioning himself, “Or I can give you to Alexi and you’ll return to the United States.”

  He backed away just a step, searching her face to see her response.

  It was difficult for even Laney to figure out how she felt about this unexpected twist. She was shocked and in the absence of her comment, he continued talking.

  “You will serve him … much as you served your husband when he was alive. I hear that you and Alexi are ‘at odds’ now? That’s too bad. I actually thought this might be a way for you to maintain some semblance of yourself. Let’s not kid ourselves, Laney,” he stopped here, his demeanor having altered enough to make him less forbidding, more like an advisor or respected friend, “you will never be a good candidate for slavery. Yes, I can make you into a slave. I have no doubt about that; I’ve worked with sorrier females than you. I can beat you and punish you and demean you enough to twist your character to my will. But I’m not sure if I want to pay the price to do so. In fact, I’m really not up for the challenge of an uppity female like you. You were a good match for your husband. It’s too bad for us all that he was taken so young.

  “In any event, I’m going to give you a choice. Me, and the ‘fulfillment of the bracelet’ as you called it—or Alexi. That’s a wild card, only Alexi can tell you what you can expect of him. I would think you’ve seen enough to know how brutal and kind he can be. The fact that you’ve had your falling out may make for some rough waters…but, that won’t be my problem. So think about it. What will it be? I’m letting you choose—I never do that, but well, never say never.”

  Laney shook her head, confused and so filled with information that she simply could not process it so quickly. “Why can’t you just let me go home,” she said simply.

  “No!” the Marquis spoke fiercely and his eyes narrowed. “No. You’ve been too much trouble. I will not let you walk away unscathed by me or ultimately beyond my control. You will belong to me either way, it’s just how you choose to serve your three years of enslavement.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “Alexi has always been a bit of a maverick to our cause. You two will fit nicely, but that’s another matter…. What will it be, Laney Priestly?”

  “You must have my answer now?”

  “No. I’m sure your gut already knows what that answer is. But since I’m a little tired of this ordeal, I’ll give you until morning to think it through. You’re given to making rash decisions, let’s not make this one as rash as your previous missteps.”

  She supposed he had a point. “I do have one question, sir. If you don’t mind?”

  “What is that?”

  “Does Alex want me as his submissive? Or was this just your idea?”

  This glimmer in his eyes was hard to read. “Alexi agreed to take you off my hands. That’s all I can say. But understand this clearly, choosing Alexi instead of me doesn’t throw your life back to normal. Going back to the States does not mean that your life will be in anyway the same. That is for him to decide, of course. But if he tires of you, if something happ
ens to you, if you turn on him, or try to escape your obligation, I will pull you back to me—I have that power, please don’t dismiss that. It’s no telling how long you’ll serve like an abject slave under my roof.” He smiled again. She could see that he was tired. “I will see you in the morning.”

  She nodded and watched him leave the room, trying to take in all he’d said, until she suddenly became aware that she was alone with six men, including Alex Greenwood, who stared at her, waiting for her to act. Feeling vulnerable and self-conscious, she made a hasty retreat.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After stuffing her overnight bag in the bin above, Laney took her seat on the plane, scooting to the window and looking out. It wasn’t long before someone appeared in the aisle beside her. She looked up, heart leaping ahead of itself with a hope that was immediately rewarded. Alex. Alex dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt that looked as sexy as his stylish suit had looked the night before.

  “You look a little surprised,” he said. “You think I’d forget?”

  She waited for him to sit down before she explained. “Everything ended so quickly… and then you were nowhere around and suddenly I’m on this plane…”

  “The Marquis didn’t lie, Laney. You are as bound to him as you ever were. As much under his power. You are still wearing his bracelet, aren’t you?” He stared right down at it.

  “Yes.” She fingered it, trying to smile. Her nerves were shot and still her heart was racing and her lust was once more on the rise, despite the feeling that she should keep her desires in check.

  “You didn’t trust me on the island, when I told you to stop your quest. But it’s time to trust me now. You made the right decision. You do not want to submit to three years in the Marquis’ house. You do not want that grief. You may have a hell of a submissive streak that leads you into terrible temptations, but you don’t need the Marquis’ brand of slavery. You would suffer, Laney. Suffer. The rage in you would build, you’d come up gasping and snorting, trying to fight your way out, but trust me, every time you did, your rebellion would be squashed. I’ve seen it and I’ve seen the results, and I would hate to see that happen to a woman with your spirit, your talent, your lust for adventure, your desire for life…”

 

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