The Captive Flesh

by Cleo Cordell

  Marietta felt a fierce joy at the thought. When would he order her to pleasure him? What would he make her do? Her thoughts seemed crowded with him. After so much time, when she had seen him only as a fleeting visitor, she longed to be alone with him. For him to take her to his apartments. Perhaps to secure her wrists to that slim marble pillar . . .

  She sat still while her nipples were rouged; her hands and feet decorated with henna. Then her hair was brushed out so that it hung free in a cascade of silver curls. The tresses were perfumed with musk-rose oil, then threaded with gold chains and looped with ropes of pearls.

  When Marietta was ready, Kasim came into the harem. At a sign from him Marietta assumed the posture of submission. Without a word he reached for the chain at her waist and removed the cage.

  Then he ordered her to lie on her back on a nearby divan. There was a small knot of excitement in her stomach. She did as he asked, lying back and parting her legs. He made a small sound of appreciation. Still without speaking, he took a small jar and dipped his fingers into it. Then he reached between her legs and began to anoint her flesh-lips with a spicy scented oil. Already aroused, she trembled like a leaf in the wind.

  Kasim's dark eyes gleamed. A satisfied smile played over his hard mouth. The touch of his fingers maddened her. The pressure was firm, almost impersonal, but so welcome that she felt her sex-lips become liquid. Her sex felt heavily engorged. She knew that her outside flesh-lips were full and pouting, resembling a firm plum. She closed her eyes, feeling her pleasure mounting. A moment more and she would climax. The tips of Kasim's fingers probed inside her, then brushed lightly over her pleasure bud, anointing it with the spicy oil.

  It was too much. She broke all at once. The waves rolled over her in great wrenching spasms, consuming her, blinding her to everything but the moment.

  'Oh, oh,' she gasped as her womb convulsed. Her thighs closed on Kasim's hand as she rubbed shamelessly on his fingers. His hand closed over her sex, pinching the lips together hard as if he could stop the pleasure which was only now beginning to ebb. She pressed towards him with a little sob, hearing him curse under his breath, but not caring that she had lost control. It was some moments before she recovered. The afterglow was sweet but brief. Her thighs fell open as lassitude spread over her limbs.

  Kasim frowned and withdrew his hand. His mouth was a hard line. Then he smiled and, leaning over, brushed her lips with his. 'You should be spanked for that loss of control, but I feel generous this night. Besides, I should not have handled you so gently. I will allow you that one moment of delight. Wait . . . Give me your mouth.'

  Marietta lifted her chin and pursed her lips. Kasim swept his finger over her mouth. She tasted sweet spices and her own musk, before her lips grew warm and swollen.

  'Now, get up,' Kasim said.

  Only then did she become aware that the whole of her sex and flesh-valley felt warm and tingling, the same as her mouth. Her erect bud throbbed with almost painful intensity. It did not seem possible, but Kasim's touch had brought her to an even more extreme state of heightened arousal. Her release of a moment before had done nothing to assuage her desire.

  'There/ Kasim replaced the lid on the little jar. 'That mixture of spices I rubbed into your sex and mouth will ensure that you remain so hungry for pleasure that you care not who gives it. But your task this night is to give pleasure only. All you have to do is obey me. You will hunger, but you will not be eased. See that you hold yourself back. For I warn you. I shall not forgive another lapse. Your pleasure must wait until I order you to take it. Do you understand?'

  She managed to nod, her thoughts in a turmoil.

  'Good. The guests are about to arrive. Follow me.'

  Kasim's private apartments had been transformed for the banquet.

  Candles in stained-glass containers cast pools of green, blue, and red light on to the rich carpet, while the corners of the large room were in complete darkness. The divans around the central cleared area were filled with guests. Others stood around the room chatting, helping themselves to food from small tables. All the guests were richly dressed in silks and brocades. Jewels flashed from turbans and sashes. Slaves moved to and fro serving glasses of sherbet from gold and silver trays.

  Marietta was displayed prominently, chained to the marble pillar as before, this time in the submissive posture. Guests walked around her, lifting up her long hair, feeling the weight of her breasts, murmuring idle compliments. Now and then she felt the stroke of a thin cane between her legs. Her nipples were stroked until they became erect. The many touches, the small attentions, were light, careless, almost throwaway, as if she was of little account. She suffered them in silence, betraying her reactions by shuddering very slightly. The sense of being worthless was deeply humiliating but exciting too. How did Kasim always know how to reach inside the deepest recesses of her mind and draw her out, expose her darkest desires, and make her ever more naked to him?

  She began to long for the casual attentions of the guests, but wished that she could dip her chin, so that she need not see their faces. They all looked so smug, so soft with good living. Perhaps she could hide her face with the heavy fall of her hair, but a stiff gold collar set with pearls and moonstones prevented it. The number of people, the noise, terrified her. She had somehow imagined that Kasim would take her to his apartments and use her for his pleasure alone. But she and Claudine were to remain on show, displayed like the prized ornaments they were.

  Claudine was chained in similar fashion to the marble pillar opposite. Her friend looked magnificent. She did not look afraid and seemed to be enjoying all the attention. Like Marietta she was naked and arranged in the posture of submission. Above a high collar of gold, set with cornelians and rubies, her chin was thrust out haughtily. The wide golden-brown eyes flicked over the guests with interest. The thick red-gold hair, threaded with strings of rubies, tumbled over her naked shoulders.

  Claudine smiled at Marietta. Her eyes looked dreamy and unfocused. She stretched luxuriously and arched her back. Marietta saw the newly naked sex, the outer lips agape, and the inner flesh-lips hanging down slightly. She saw how red and wet the sex was and realized that Claudine too had been anointed with spicy oil. As Claudine thrust her full breasts forward, Marietta noticed for the first time that Claudine's pale-brown nipples were encircled by gold rings. Somehow the erect nipples had been teased through the tiny rings so that they remained hard and engorged. The tender nipple-skin was shiny, elongated into a tiny jutting teat, collared by the unresisting metal.

  Though she resisted the thought, Marietta found herself imagining wearing such rings. Could she bear that pressure, the exquisite feeling of constriction? Claudine seemed proud to wear them. Had Kasim forced them on her? His cruelty was unrelenting. Marietta shivered as she remembered his hard fingers working the spicy oil into her secret flesh.

  Just then a rather handsome merchant with gold teeth smiled at Marietta, distracting her from studying her friend. Moving aside his full-skirted robe, he stroked the bulge at his groin, at the same time cupping her chin and squeezing her cheeks so that her mouth opened. Marietta blushed violently. The merchant crowed with delight and freed his erect penis, pressing forward so that the tip pressed against her lips.

  His cock was long and rather thin. The tip was naked with a pronounced collar of flesh around the plum. As her mouth closed over the warm swollen tip and she began sucking, she lowered her eyelids, glad to shut out the sight of his shiny red face and lustful eyes. But it seemed that even that luxury was not allowed her. Kasim appeared at her side.

  'Your pardon my friend,' he said to the merchant, who drew away regretfully, his own hand continuing to pump his cock-stem.

  'Ah, you must chastise this disobedient slave?' The merchant grinned. 'No matter. I will use the other's mouth.'

  Claudine accommodated the merchant's hardness with relish. While he plundered Claudine's throat, the merchant turned his head so that he might watch Kasim's actions.

&nb
sp; 'This night you are to look the guests in the eye as you pleasure them,' Kasim said to Marietta.

  Marietta was confused. Normally, in the posture of submission, she was made to keep her eyes lowered. She tried to stammer a reply, but her hesitancy was taken for resistance.

  'Do you not answer your master? Then take this for your disobedience,' Kasim rapped, beginning to slap the under-swell of her breasts.

  He slapped each breast in turn, snapping their weight upwards until they glowed with warmth. Marietta twisted and sobbed as his hand connected again and again. Each time he allowed the breast to drop before he slapped it again, so that the bruising ache added to her torment. She had never been slapped in that way before. It seemed that she was consumed by a mixture of pleasure-pain. Her whole body shook. She squeezed her thighs together and felt her sex pulse as the oiled flesh-lips closed together. Her nipples contracted to hard little nubs like pink stone. She began to moan between the sobs, the sound supplicating even to her own ears. Something within her reached out to Kasim. In his beautiful hard face, the set of his mouth, she sensed that he was highly aroused and she felt glad that she could stir him to such a pitch.

  The merchant nearby groaned with pleasure as Marietta's flushed face became streaked with tears. He plunged himself into Claudine's mouth until he climaxed with a hoarse groan. A small group had gathered to watch Kasim chastise Marietta. She heard the sighs of pleasure, the comments on her beauty. The watchers drew away a little as Kasim stood back and lowered his hand.

  Marietta sagged. She bent over at the waist as if she could shield her tormented breasts from the sea of eyes. She sobbed without restraint as the warm pain flooded her breasts. Her belly jerked with the force of her distress . . . but inside her there was a hard peak of excitement. She was frightened by the delicious drowning feeling of submission. It had come stronger this time. Stronger even than when Kasim had lashed her in front of Leyla.

  Kasim ran his hands over the vibrantly blushing breasts, squeezing hard and holding them up. He admired their colour. The pink nipples, cresting the dark-rose flesh, were startling in contrast. There were murmurs of approval and admiration from the watching guests. Kasim tugged on the chain attached to Marietta's beautiful gold collar, so that she straightened up further and was forced to lift her chin even higher.

  'Keep your head high, Marietta,' he hissed. Thrust out those breasts so that everyone can admire them, and keep those legs well spread. I want all my guests to enjoy your beauty.'

  Marietta bit her trembling lips. A final sob was forced from her as she opened her knees wide, pushing backwards until the joints at her groin ached.

  'Good. Good,' Kasim said gently. .'Now you are obedient.'

  He tweaked her pubic curls, rubbing the oiled strands between his fingers, fluffing them up and stroking them back from the exposed and parted sex. Marietta felt herself bear down. Her sex seemed to push out. She managed to stop herself swaying towards his hand only with a great effort. Her sex burned, and throbbed, yearning for any contact. It seemed that all her thoughts of rebellion, her wish for freedom, had sunk somewhere below her immediate consciousness. There was only the heat in her breasts, the hungry ache in her belly, the craving for sexual release.

  Kasim patted her head then left her and walked over to Claudine. Claudine smiled, anticipating his approval. She licked her lips as if still tasting the merchant's thin milt. She brought her hands forward and placed them on her thighs. The fingers, spread and pointing inwards, drew attention to her hot little sex. As Kasim stopped in front of her, Claudine drew in her belly and looked up at him through lowered lashes. She thrust her hips forward, so that the little purse of her naked sex was lifted invitingly.

  Kasim's mouth thinned. 'You are too eager! Hands behind your back,' he said, and pinched her nipples until she gasped with pain.

  Hurriedly she clasped her hands behind her back. Kasim slapped her large breasts hard. Once, twice, three times on the out-swell of each breast. Claudine's mouth opened with shock. It was plain that she had not been chastised in this way before. Marietta felt sorry for Claudine but her whole body had pulsed with pleasure as she watched Kasim slap the rich outer curves. The upper-swell and deep cleavage of Claudine's breasts remained their normal shade of light-gold, speckled with freckles; while the outer slopes - pulled taut by the held back shoulders - were flushed deep-rose. The effect was most enticing. Claudine's lovely mouth trembled violently and her eyes watered.

  'You should know better by now. What are you? Tell me,' Kasim's voice was deceptively gentle as he waited for the reply that did not come fast enough. He reached between Claudine's thighs and tapped the parted flesh-lips with two fingers, spanking the tender exposed flesh smartly.

  'Your . . . your obedient servant,' Claudine whispered, finding her voice. She winced and writhed as he grasped the whole of her sex and pinched the naked lips together. Tremors passed across her belly.

  'See that you remember that at all times,' Kasim rapped, removing his hand. He strode across the room and began speaking to one of his guests.

  Claudine stared after Kasim, her face flushed and tear-stained. She still looked shocked. Glancing at Marietta, she whispered in a shaky voice: 'I thought I was special . . . that after the past few days. . . But he treats me like a common slave . . .'

  Marietta understood. It seemed that sharing Kasim's bed did not raise one's status. She was inexplicably glad of the fact, but she trembled with fear. Kasim appeared so cold, so detached. What else would he expect of them? Was it not enough that they must display their naked bodies to all those lewd gazes; make their mouths available to whoever wished to use them; and be forced to look into the eyes of each lustful guest? Even now she felt the merchants' eyes on her rounded arms and shoulders, on her breasts, and especially between her thighs.

  She had heard the many comments and the laughter. Some of the merchants were fascinated by her difference, others were appalled.

  'Have you seen the pale slave? The new girl?'

  'Beautiful, is she not? Such pretty breasts.'

  'Yes. But she has hair on her sex! Disgraceful!'

  'I agree. But it's rather compelling. So pale and fine. One feels driven to feel it. To taste it. What must it feel like to plunge into a sex with hair on?'

  'Ah, yes. Or to bury one's fingers inside that pretty fleshpot while plundering her tight little anus.'

  'You only have to ask Kasim. He'll let you sample the goods. Is he not famous for his generosity?'

  Marietta blanched at the last comment. Surely Kasim would not give her over to be used in that way. The thought of being penetrated, of her shrinking flesh sleeving those hard male organs while others watched, horrified and tantalised her. She knew that she would not be able to help showing her pleasure if anyone used her so intimately. How terrible to have to hold herself back as Kasim had ordered. But how much more awful to be viewed with her back arched, her buttocks working shamelessly, and her avid bud grinding against whatever flesh-surface presented itself. She shivered with the horror of it.

  For though much time had passed since Kasim anointed her with spicy oil, she was still at a peak of intense arousal. The breast spanking had only added to the feeling. How wet and swollen her sex was. The normally pink flesh must be shockingly red and plump. It seemed dreadful that her open flesh-lips, the mouth of her central orifice, and the tormented swollen bud, were spread so wide to the hungry gaze of Kasim's guests.

  Once she had hated the gold cage that masked her sex, now she wished for it back. She did not think she could bear this new humiliation. If only she could crawl into a dark corner and hide. Her rosy breasts throbbed and tingled, but she must still bear the strokes and pinches of the guests. Now and then she must suck an erect cock, or suffer a mouth to cover hers and a thrusting tongue to circle the inside of her lips, questing for the last faint taste of some other's salty emission. And all of this was viewed by so many. Her expertise, her willingness, her physical perfection, everything was comm
ented on. Oh, there could be nothing in the world worse than this.

  Then she heard Kasim speak, and knew that she was mistaken.

  'Ah, Selim, my friend, and your entourage. You are late. No matter. You were ever one to make an entrance. Welcome. Welcome. Come sit by me. And I see that Gabriel is with you. Excellent.'

  Chapter Nine

  Marietta watched, wide-eyed, as Gabriel followed the jewel merchant across the room.

  The tall blond slave was even more handsome than she remembered. His mane of light hair was loose, framing the hard planes of his face. His sleeveless leather jerkin was tight over his bulging biceps. It was laced down the front, revealing his upper chest with its frosting of blond hair. A broad studded belt cinched Gabriel's narrow waist. His full white cotton trousers were tucked into leather boots and he wore broad leather wristbands.

  Marietta could not believe he was really here. It seemed so long ago since that day in the market place, but every detail of the scene she had witnessed was imprinted still on her brain and senses. Just looking at Gabriel made her long to touch him; to stroke her hands down those strong arms; to kiss his mouth - surely it was too beautiful to have been placed on a man's face. Wicked thoughts rioted through her. She imagined the taste of his skin. It would be salty-sweet, perhaps perfumed with some woody scented oil. Oh, to cup those tight buttocks; to lift herself on to his erect phallus . . .

  She tried not to stare. To veil her thoughts. In the market place, Gabriel had looked like a bruised angel. Now he looked like a field worker; strong and vibrant, attractive in a different, more earthy way.

  Suddenly she was newly aware of her position. What was she thinking of? She was Kasim's slave, displayed like the object of pleasure she had become. By an ironic quirk of fate, her role and Gabriel's previous role had become reversed. She shrank within herself.

  Unthinkable that Gabriel would now look on her humiliation. Would he pity or desire her? She remembered the sight of his anguish, the appalling sexual tension, and that final jet of seed when he could hold back his pleasure no longer. The sight had stirred her to a shattering climax. Now she was displayed in a similar state of helpless arousal.