by TorreS, Pet
"How beautiful!" I exclaim, staring at it.
"Shhhhhh!" He orders me. "You can only speak when I say so. "
I shut my mouth and remain mute. Larsson approaches the bed and puts the tiger cub on the bed close to my womb.
He walks backward, admiring my naked body next to a tiger cub.
"Perfect!" He mumbles, turns his back, walks up to the wooden easel and sits in a dark chair.
Many hours pass by and I'm in the same position, but the tiger cub moves its head and licks its own paws.
Larsson pokes his head out from behind the easel and gazes at us every two minutes. His hand begins to sketch with a painter's brush the first traces of my naked body on the bed. But the tiger cub is restless and Larsson is obliged to catch its attention.
"Zuak, stay quiet!"
Then the little ferine animal seems to recognize his owner's voice and comes back to settle down soon after.
Many more hours later...
Larsson breathes, feeling rested after he has executed his mission. He frees his brush on a watercolor full of paint and there is still another brush hanging out of his mouth. He removes it from his lips and also puts it on the watercolor, resting his arms behind his head.
"It is extraordinary!" He exclaims from behind his easel.
"Can I see it?"
I am elated to be able to enjoy his masterpiece clearly depicting my nakedness beside a ferine animal he idolizes.
"No! No!" He exclaims, rising from his chair and removing his canvas from the easel. "I do not want you to see it! Not now."
Then he walks out of his room, carrying his canvas with him.
I sit in bed, dressed in my white satin robe and try to pet the tiger cub, but Larsson returns to the room, goes to the bed and picks up the tiger cub into his arms.
"I have to take Zuak back to his own area." He smiles lovingly at the animal. "I interrupted your sleep, it’s not Zuak?"
Larsson again disappears from the room, carrying the animal with him. I keep sitting on the bed and by now I’m feeling less attractive than a four-legged animal.
He returns for the third time and I watch his slow movements which are also intimidating at the same time. His nakedness is exposed gently in that black satin robe and makes him even more alluring and irresistible. I feel like submerging myself in bed in his arms.
I stare at his face, hoping to hear sweet words, or even receive a desired kiss from his lips. I still do not know his lisp’s touch and his taste and I ache to know what it would feel like.
He bows down close to the small table beside the bed, takes out a cigarette and a black lighter and then he lights his cigarette. He handles it with more sensuality, as he is already aware that I have my eyes on him. He does not dare to face me yet however, not because he feels intimidated by my presence, but because that is part of his seduction game.
"I'll take you back to your residence," he says as he releases the smoke from his mouth. "Constancia waits for you."
I get out of bed and stop in front of him.
"I thought something might have changed between us after last night.”
Larsson shakes his head and turns his back to me. "Emily, do not be so dreamy!"
He walks softly, stops before the glass wall and gazes at the garden which is completely green. “Santa Claus and Prince Charming do not exist in the real world. I've said it to you before.”
I stop before him again and look into his eyes. "But love exists."
He shakes his head at me and smiles awkwardly. "Love doesn’t exist in my real world."
He lifts his cigarette, moves out of my way and walks to the door. "I am going to ask my driver to take you home."
Again I realize that I'm alone in that room, feeling like a crushed insect after it has been pressed between the crack of a door or a window.
Chapter 8
"I'll never find love here."
~Emily
My breasts are heavily fondled and squeezed by the hands of a sex maniac customer. He tries to pull down the straps of my transparent, ice color dress.
Provocative red panties, cover my intimate part, but the red of my panties is clearly noticeable due to the transparency of the fabric of my dress. My red sandals with high heels blend well with my panties and with the red lipstick on my lips.
This man hugs me and suckles on my neck as if he was sucking an ice cream in hot weather. I feel stifled and horrified by this molestation.
His tongue slides across my ear, goes down my neck and tries to find my lips. However, I struggle, trying to escape from his arms. His smell is repugnant and his breath against my skin makes me shiver with repulsion and nausea.
My repugnance throws me to his neck and I start to caress his ear with my tongue's tip. The client moans with pleasure and squeezes my rear with more excitement.
I know what I'm doing and what I plan to do. My lips encircle the curve of his right ear and I bite it with anger, making him almost fall to the ground with much pain. Then he cries out in pain, "Bitch!"
I push him away from me and run to the door.
I leave the room and start running through the house, trying to find an exit. I go down the stairs and walk by several dark and deserts corridors.
Larsson is sitting on a black couch in the corner of the nightclub. There are a few women beside him. These women are prostitutes who work for him. The nightclub is crowded with customers; the atmosphere is lively and fun.
The owner of the nightclub drinks an aperitif beside his prostitutes. They laugh while caressing his neck and his scalp.
A security guard dressed in black approaches him. He leans over to his boss and says something in Larsson’s ear.
Then the nightclub's owner abandons his appetizer in the prostitute's hand at his side and he gets up hastily.
I keep running through the mansion, trying to find a secret exit where no one can see my escape.
Larsson walks through the house, accompanied by his two bodyguards. His steps are heavy and tense. He seems to be chasing something that belongs to him.
I see a long hallway, dimly lit when I look back and see three men in black clothes behind me. Then I start to run desperately. However, they come walking and not running after me.
I look back over my shoulder and I dare to run more and more.
My transparent, ice color dress rises in the air according to the ample movements of my legs. I firmly hold onto the railings at the end of the hallway and I despair when I realize that there is no other way out. My fingers grip the iron bars.
Someone stops behind me, holds my untied hair firmly and turns me to face him.
I look up and see Larsson before my eyes and behind him are his two guards. He rubs his right hand and hits my face. I feel his left hand's strength on my face. I hold back my tears and look down at the floor.
"Do you want to escape?" He asks screaming at me.
I do not dare to look at him, much less answer him.
"Answer me!"
Another scream, then I slowly lift my head and my dark hair is covering part of my pale and humiliated face.
Again I can feel his heavy hand cowardly touching my face at my right side.
Larsson does not feel satisfied at his aggression against me and his hand goes inside his black overcoat, toward his waist. He moves from his left and pulls out a black pistol.
He walks closer to me, his left hand grabs my hair, pulling me closer to his body, and I can feel the cold barrel of his pistol against my neck's skin. He shakes my head, through my hair. I can feel his anger with every shake of my head.
"Try to escape from me again and I will be forced to mark you with the lead from my pistol!" He shakes my head again. "Do not make me do this!"
He throws me brutally against the railing, turns away and starts walking back to the hallway.
"Take her straight to my office!" Larsson TIGER orders his bodyguards.
***
From the door, the two security guards push me int
o Larsson TIGER's office and they close the door. I turn back and see the dark background of the office. The black leather armchair is facing the wall. There is an insistent smoke going up toward the ceiling.
However, I remain still. Larsson TIGER's aggressions keep me increasingly distant from him. I finally see the monster that's inside of this man.
I lower my head and try to hold back my tears, remembering some good and bad things he has done in my life. How can I be so stupid to the point of wanting this man so badly?
A man who does me more harm than good.
What's wrong with him?
Or rather, what's wrong with me?
How is it that I cannot protect my heart from constant danger? That I run and will be running if I am still beside this man?
His chair slowly turns to face his dark table. Again I'm facing Larsson TIGER. He removes his pistol from his waist and puts it on the table. I believe this is a way to bully me again.
His movements are swift as he rises from his black armchair. He bends his face and his eyes are very expressive and there is a glare in them, while his eyes observe me and analyze my red panties through my transparent dress.
"Please, let me leave this place."
I beg staring at the floor and a tear reaches the red leather of my sandal. At the same time that pain reaches deep inside my heart.
"This is not my place," I utter as he comes near me more and more. "I'll never find love here."
Larsson stops in front of me and his hands are in his black jeans’ pockets.
"Really?"
I raise my head and see his green eyes staring at me, as if they already know that my heart is rooted in love with someone who is not worthy of me .
This someone is Larsson himself.
"I need to leave this place! I can’t stand this hell!"
He moves his hands in his pockets. "Do you really think you will find happiness away from here? Far from ..."
He holds his own words, thinking that it is unnecessary for him to actually speak the word 'me'.
"I can survive anywhere. I do not need to look at your face again." My voice sounds angry, filled with hatred and coldness. Maybe I'm learning how to become aggressive like him.
That gave him a good reason to look up and he lets go a slight laugh. I feel the debauched mocking between his lips, accompanied by a set of beautiful white teeth.
"Emily, however much you try, you can never be like me!"
He stops behind me and smells my hair.
"So indifferent!"
I try to get away from him and I am grabbed by the arms, feeling a warm breath on my neck. His hand slides down the back of my thigh and squeezes my backside with force. His other hand moves around my waist pulling me against his body and I can feel his erection growing behind me.
Our breaths rise inch by inch but I know I do not want to be a form of entertainment for Larsson TIGER.
My hands remove his arms from my body and I try to run away from him. I stop in front of his office door and dare to open it. However, my despair is great, and I can barely turn the knob.
I look down to my right hand, as soon as I feel it heavy. There is another hand on mine, preventing me from opening the door and running into the passage. I turn my body back and my back is against the dark wooden door.
My heart pounds swiftly.
His green eyes invade mine and they slowly move through my entire body. The region below my hips is his favorite part. I can see him admiring my transparent dress in contact with my little red panties.
His forefinger touches my navel and slowly moves down while his eyes continue to hold mine.
Larsson TIGER kneels, lifts up my dress's long transparent skirt and his lips graze against the strap of my red panties. I feel it moving down to my knees, accompanied by his teeth as he pulls it down.
My hands slide along the wooden door. I close my eyes and whisper softly, "No ... I ... do not want ..."
I open my eyes, look down at him and become crazy at the movements of his head between my legs. His warm, wet tongue rouses my clit mercilessly.
Again, Larsson TIGER keeps me in his power of seduction, which he knows to govern perfectly.
Chapter 9
"NOW YOU HAVE THE MARK OF THE TIGER."
~Larsson TIGER
I barely wake up and I'm approached by a nightclub security guard. It is early in the morning and Natasha is smoking a cigarette while she is standing next to an open window, dressed in black lingerie from last night.
I touch my feet to the ground, dressed in a white cotton nightshirt. There are some hickeys on my body and those were the fruits of Larsson TIGER's greedy lips. I wrap my dark hair between my fingers and make a bun on top of my head.
Again the bodyguard shakes the door impatiently.
"Move on! I do not have all day!" He complains behind the closed door.
I rise from my bed, put on rubber slippers and go towards the door. The bodyguard hurriedly walks beside me while we are moving through a long hallway. It is daylight but the house remains partially dark.
The strong man stops walking before his chief's office. Then he knocks on the door and soon after he opens it after receiving permission to do so.
Once more I am put into this strictly familiar site. The door closes behind me and the bodyguard is outside the office.
I look across the office and see a man sitting with his back to me behind Larsson Tiger’s table.
However, I still do not see the owner of the office, but I hear his voice ordering me.
"Come here, Emily!"
I walk slowly toward his desk and balk behind the chair where the stranger is sitting. Larsson rises from his armchair and squeezes his cigarette against his ashtray, extinguishing it completely.
He inserts his right hand inside his black overcoat and pulls out a black pistol from his waist, puts it on the table and looks up into my eyes. Again I realize that this is a message for me - I must remain obedient to him like a wild animal that fears the whip in its tamer's hand.
His teasing smile emerges on his lips and he starts talking softly and imperiously at the same time.
"Come closer!"
He raises his hand towards me and his fingers move, calling me to him. I hold my hands on my womb and walk to the other side of his table. I stop walking when I am at his side.
In that moment, I can see the face of a man with brown hair, pale skin and brown eyes. He is holding a large suitcase. His arms are covered with colorful tattoos. It seems he is about his thirty-seven.
Larsson looks at the man as he holds my arm. Then he says, "I want you to mark this woman with the tiger symbol."
I widen my eyes and stare at Larsson as I think that I will be tattooed to satisfy his whims.
And why? It's my body.
It is I who should decide on its destination and not Larsson TIGER.
The man nods at Larsson. "And what is the picture?"
***
I feel my neck burn and blaze while the tattooer perforates my skin with a needle of a pen with a motor. The contours are being made on me and I do not know yet what is the image being printed on my skin.
I'm paralyzed completely and looking down at my feet. I’m sitting in the chair while the tattoo artist performs his duty.
He is now standing behind me, finalizing the design on my skin.
Larsson TIGER is standing by my side, watching the artwork on my skin, while his fingers hold his lit cigarette.
A few hours pass by and the tattooer collects his objects from the table, saying, "It is finished."
Larsson removes some notes from his drawer and pays the agreed amount to the tattooer.
"The necessary after care, you already know ..." The artist tries to say.
Larsson interrupts him while it seems he is crazy to get rid of the tattooer. "I know, after all I am also tattooed."
The man says goodbye and leaves the room.
I remain silent as I am feeling my nape burning. I
feel my mouth becoming bitter with anger. Now I'm dwelling in a place of Larsson TIGER's gods.
Up to a point, he marked me with a symbol of his obsession of which I do not wish to be a part.
His slow steps bring him closer to me. His right hand touches my neck, after he returns his cigarette butt to an ashtray.
His fingers cling strongly to my chin and he makes me stare up into his eyes. His white teeth gently emerge through a slit in his sadistic lips.
I sense the pleasure growing in his words like a leader, informing me.
"NOW YOU HAVE THE MARK OF THE TIGER."
I defiantly look into his eyes while they remain daring, showing supreme power over me.
His lips come near my ear and he tells me quietly,
"IF YOU TRY TO RUN AWAY FROM ME AGAIN, I'LL FIND YOU EVEN IF YOU ARE IN HELL!"
He pauses and continues saying, "Because there are no other tattoos in the world like these. They are exclusive to Larsson TIGER."
Then he raises his head and gazes at my nape, admiring the design on my skin. – a replica of the same tiger that is tattooed on his ribs.
His fingers glide gently over the tiger on my skin, admiring it as if it was a deity and confesses to me,
"NOW YOU ARE DEFINITELY THE PROPERTY OF LARSSON TIGER!"
THE END
Ardent
Affection
Book 3
In the Tiger’s Obsession Series
Books in this series
Tiger’s Obsession, book#1
Robbed virginity, book#2
Ardent affection, book#3
Forced penitence, book#4
Renascent soul, book#5
Copyright © 2013 by Pet Torres books
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