Talia and Isaac

by Lorraine Margaret

She felt no fear at his words, only anticipation. Excitement. He stroked his fingertips between her legs, which shamelessly opened at his touch.

  “Keep this warm and welcoming for me until tomorrow, Wanwisa,” he whispered, before moving his attentions to her breasts. His fingers travelled enticingly close to her nipples but did not stray onto them. Was he trying to torment her or simply relaxing her body, nurturing her as he had promised to do? Or was he trying to arouse her to a feverish state in readiness for their visit to the blue room tomorrow? Whatever he was doing, it was immensely pleasurable – and she could not resist. Her shameless clitoris could not resist…

  “Aah!”

  Her climax was sweet and intense, her clitoris pulsing powerfully without direct stimulation for the second time today. Her body was ridiculously responsive to Isaac’s touch. They shared an instinctive, primal connection, but she knew it was so much more than that. Her spirit was ridiculously responsive to Isaac’s touch.

  His eyes were glazed as he whispered into her hair. “Just beautiful, Talia, you are exquisite, well done. I am very pleased with you.”

  She yearned to caress him in return but could hardly keep her eyes open. Her eyelids were heavy and drooping, shutting Isaac’s beauty out. She was just too tired for anything. And then she was wrapped in his warm arms again, her head lolling on his chest like a baby’s as he carried her to bed.

  And now she was cradled in his arms, underneath thick, warm blankets, and she was falling… falling…

  “Sweet Talia, I love hearing my name on your lips.”

  What was that? So far away those wonderful words…

  Had she imagined them?

  Spectacular Something

  He gently disentangled himself from her arms, shocked by how very difficult it was to do. But that was why he had to do it, steel himself to separate his body from hers, regain some sense of Isaac as an independent entity and not part of Talia. He sighed as he managed the near on impossible feat of walking away from her. Whether he liked it or not she was part of him now. He stared as she moaned softly and clutched his pillow tightly to her breasts. Those sweet hands had been clinging to his chest moments ago, and he already yearned to feel their tenderness again. Was she feeling their separation even while she slept? It certainly looked that way. He prayed he was right. It was unbearable to think he might be living this madness alone, consumed and obsessed by Talia without having those terrifying feelings returned. He adored her. Too much. He didn’t know how to feel these emotions let alone handle them.

  Yesterday had turned out to be a perfect day after a traumatic start. He was proud of himself for adjusting to Talia’s needs and stunned by how easily this had restored harmony between them. Just a little tenderness and Talia was a woman transformed, overflowing with warmth and affection… and sensuality. It was wonderful to discover how sensual and uninhibited she was. Yet her sexual enthusiasm was born of her need for spiritual connection, so very different to the false idolatry of his previous liaisons. Women had always revered him as their king, gladly given him their bodies in exchange for status and power. Talia was different, a world apart. Sex was not a game to her, it was about the communication of two souls, the giving and receiving of pleasure. She was a revelation. He finally knew what fucking could be like when you did it with the right woman, when he did it with the right woman…

  His destiny.

  But he liked her words too much, he craved them… fascinated by every little thing she said. He had been too lenient, relaxed his treasured rules, and allowed her to speak far, far too often and say far, far too much. She had called out his name as she climaxed, and he had responded by coming harder than he ever had before. The sound of his name on her lips had sparked euphoria in his mind and body, such deep peace and excitement flowing through his veins… and all because of one small word from Talia. Fuck!

  He was doomed. He was losing focus, losing sight of his mission. What had he learnt since bringing Talia here? Nothing of any use at all. Talia had bewitched him as easily as the Lokians had bewitched the Cornicunian people – there was far more to fear than he had anticipated. Lokian magic was a powerful and terrifying thing.

  He had to be strong and resist her mystical charms. He had to fight to retain control for he felt too much passion and tenderness and couldn’t rein them in. Didn’t want to rein them in… He couldn’t just show Talia a little kindness or tender feeling. He was overflowing with emotion, flooding her with tenderness and warmth, making it all too clear how he felt about her.

  Giving her power…

  He was mightily conflicted. He had to retain control or Talia would govern him completely, but all he wanted was to smother her with love.

  Love?

  What?!

  Well, she was his destiny, the reason the blue room existed… so what did he think this was?

  Love.

  This was love.

  He stared at the exquisite little visionary in his bed and shuddered. Too fast. This was moving too fast. He had to take this slow, focus on his mission. First he had to learn Talia’s mystical secrets and use them to break the Lokians’ control over his peoples’ minds. And then, he and Talia would have time to learn how to be together.

  Learn about the unknown between them…

  I am scared of the unknown between us.

  Talia, wisest of women, was not afraid of her emotions. She had acknowledged her fear as courageously as a warrior going to war. He was the coward here. Every time he had given her a word or gesture of affection, he had counterbalanced it with sudden harshness or coldness of expression.

  Isaac, all-powerful King of Cornicunia, was afraid. He commanded the entire kingdom but was terrified of the tiny sleeping Lokian in his bed. She could not feel as intensely for him as he did for her.

  Could she?

  He had to stand firm, play his game and refuse to allow Talia to render him impotent.

  His sanity was at stake here.

  He had to play his game.

  And he had to win.

  ***********

  I love hearing my name on your lips.

  Isaac’s words were her mantra this morning, her sustenance at a time of deprivation and unease. She had been spirited away by Katrina as if the tender intimacy of last night had been nothing but a dream. When she awoke, Isaac had been standing staring out of the window as if he was impatient to see her leave. She was an annoyance, an inconvenience, a toy he was bored with and eager to release into Katrina’s expert care. And now as Katrina prepared her body for Isaac’s pleasure, Talia wondered if every day would be the same. Would Isaac only be warm and caring after he had asserted his dominance? Was his tenderness conditional on her submission? After the traumatic start to their time in the blue room, she had willingly done as he asked. She had chosen to obey him and pleasured him with a warm heart and a loving soul. She had been true to herself, so Isaac hadn’t won – had he? After their altercation, he had trusted her with his manhood, trusted she bore him no ill will. Talia had teeth. She could have inflicted a lot of damage if she wanted to. So, she did have a little power – didn’t she? But today was to be a day of punishment… What did that mean?

  She shuddered in erotic anticipation as the warm waters of the bath caressed her body, the oils softening her skin for her master’s pleasure. Why was Isaac so mercurial, so confusing? Last night everything had been so simple, he had been pleased with her and tenderly taken care of her needs. She had not been his slave – he had administered to her. And those magical words… I love hearing my name on your lips. She remembered those sweet words so clearly – or did she? Were they just a product of her feverish mind? If Isaac had said them, why was Katrina preparing her body as if she was a sex slave and nothing more? A sex slave had no function beyond amusing her owner, was not valued for anything deeper than that, her purpose to provide pleasure and nothing else. A sex slave had her intimate hair removed daily as per her owner’s dictate, was prepared for her day of punishment and trained t
o be perfectly submissive. A sex slave had no will of her own, existed for her master’s delectation.

  Everything that had happened last night… the meal, Isaac feeding her cake, his tender care in the bath… had been calculated to restore her mind and body so she could withstand the severity of her punishment today. She was deluding herself if she thought it was anything more than that. Isaac was keeping her primed for his use, no more, no less. But why was she being punished anyway? I love hearing my name on your lips. He had said that. So this punishment made no sense at all. But he had also said he enjoyed punishing her, so maybe it was as simple as that; Isaac liked tormenting her. She sighed. Had she really heard those words? Or was her mind inventing things to comfort her during her trials here?

  Katrina seemed to sense Talia’s disquiet and watched her carefully as they bathed. She was a kind, sensitive woman, and Talia wished they were allowed to speak freely. Isaac was determined to deprive her of all stimulation except that which he would provide. She belonged to King Isaac, she was his and his alone, existed only for his pleasure. Her dark thoughts brought a terrifyingly bleak future sharply into focus. Would she ever be allowed outside again? Or was she to be a pampered slave transported from Isaac’s bedroom to the blue room with Katrina’s the only face she would ever see?

  When Katrina escorted her on the long walk to the blue room, the corridors were unnaturally deserted again. All other humans were hidden from Isaac’s slave, forbidden to look upon her as she was forbidden to look upon them. She belonged only to Isaac, did not even belong to herself…

  By the time she opened the door to the blue room her mood had changed dramatically since waking. Any hope in her heart had ebbed away to be replaced by cold desolation, dark thoughts of a life spent hidden from people and sunlight and nature, deprived of all stimulation, a future living in hell. Isaac stood in the middle of the blue room, his back facing her, the tension in his body palpable. His fists clenched, his body taut as if poised for battle. As she entered, he turned and stared at her, his eyes cold and impenetrable, and her spirit withered, steeling itself for its day of punishment ahead.

  He stared for an eternity, time suspended around them and growing more portentous by the second. His eyes grew colder still. Her head spun and her body swayed in response to blue-room Isaac; where was her tender king? He strode forwards and grasped her forearms, and she blinked up into his eyes.

  “Breathe, Talia, or you will faint.”

  Wasn’t she breathing? She gasped as nausea twisted in her growling belly. She was hungry; many hours had passed since dinner last night. Fear washed over her, leaving a cold sheen of sweat on her skin. It would anger Isaac if she collapsed. He expected everything to go according to plan in the blue room. She was not allowed to experience any emotions he didn’t approve of, was expected to satisfy his desires and needs at all times. She was expected to lose her identity and become part of him…

  “Are you unwell?”

  No endearments, not even her name, not a hint of kindness or compassion. Anger surged through her body and fought with the sickness in her stomach. The anger won, infusing her with renewed strength and determination, but the anger was clever. It knew its honest expression would not win this insidious battle. The way to victory was to be silently strong… and use the only power she had.

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  She lowered her eyes, remembering her rules. Was that why Isaac was so cold and distant? Because she had looked into his eyes?

  “Good. Get undressed.”

  He released her arms and stepped away, his voice colder than ever. I own the power of my body and spirit and that is all I need. I own Talia. This was her new mantra as she silently dropped her flimsy gown to the floor. Her other mantra would not serve her well for it focused on Isaac. She must focus only on herself. It would keep her strong. It was her power.

  “Good.”

  He didn’t sound pleased, but she had done as he asked and with her eyes lowered too. What did the bastard want from her? The anger rushed to her head, making it dizzier than ever. Isaac was never satisfied, he was despotic. And he wasn’t fulfilling his promise to take care of her needs. She was hungry and needed a drink.

  “Kneel before me.”

  She dropped to her knees without hesitation, owning the power of Talia. Her body, her spirit, her choice.

  “Today you will learn you do not own your mouth anymore, it belongs to me. By the end of the day, you will know never to repeat the insolence of yesterday.”

  She was shocked to the very essence of her being; he had said he loved hearing his name on her lips! What madness was this? What ridiculous, twisted game was he playing?

  “Today your mouth will be punished for its insubordination. It will learn who its master is and will never forget. Today, Talia, your only sustenance will be my seed.”

  She had no idea how she stayed still and silent under such shocking provocation. Her head swam and her heart pounded yet she remained calmly kneeling on the floor. Isaac’s words dismantled her world, their effect terrifying. She felt fury and despair but something far more sinister too. Something horrifying, unexpected, twisted… perverse. Something that challenged her perception of herself and left her disorientated and confused.

  Her sex clenched.

  Her intimate juices flowed.

  She was experiencing intense sexual excitement in response to Isaac’s shocking words. She was a sick woman, aroused by his erotic barbarity. Excited by his subjugation of her. What did it mean? Did she really want to be dominated so completely? Owned by this man? Had she been so seduced by his physical beauty and occasional flashes of kindness that she would willingly surrender her life to him? Her head spun violently, her world tilted off its axis by the discovery of a new Talia, a woman she did not recognise at all…

  “Begin.”

  And that one small word changed everything…

  The desolation in her heart was replaced by blossoming warmth, her mind flooded with the thoughts of a serene Lokian visionary. All fury and despair ebbed away as her sexual desire increased tenfold. She was no longer ashamed, was happy to surrender to her king, her master, her captor…

  And all because of one small word…

  Begin.

  A word infused with such tenderness it transformed her world, turning this into a moment of unimaginable beauty. She was unsure if Isaac was aware of what he had done. Was his tenderness a chink in his impenetrable armour or a calculated move to win her cooperation and trust? Intentional or not, it had worked. Isaac had won his game. She trusted him. She trusted that tender word.

  It was Isaac’s truth. How he felt about her.

  Isaac had said those words last night. She had not imagined them. I love hearing my name on your lips. This was all an elaborate game, testing her trust. It was not cruelty, not subjugation… it wasn’t training. It was just a game. She moved towards his magnificent erection and emptied her mind, focused only on this moment, whatever it would turn out to be. Begin. That tender word would inform everything she did today for it meant she was still Talia. Not a slave, but a visionary. Wanwisa, goddess of the sea. A long day of punishment lay ahead of her, a day full of the unknown – but that was unimportant. She focused only on the moment.

  I love hearing my name on your lips.

  His words were her mantra, consuming her mind as she swirled her tongue over his manhood, tasting his sweetness. Everything was so simple when the tenderness was in Isaac’s voice and the spectacular something was in his eyes.

  He stroked her hair while she pleasured him, his grasp tightening as she took him deep into her throat. The tug on her scalp was painful, but the tenderness that had been in that one small word was in his fingertips too. Pleasure and pain… Isaac seemed destined to give her both, each intensifying the other. She relaxed, body and soul, and no longer thought of focusing on the moment for she was living it. They were journeying to the spirit realms together…

  Reality disappeared along with
the illusions created by humankind. Isaac was with her in the spirit realms, an arrogant king communicating as spiritually as the most elevated of Lokians, her captor connecting with her soul. Her world consisted of desire and peace and Isaac. She heard his deep groans of pleasure, felt his hands tightening around her head as his manhood jerked in her mouth. His body shook with emotion and pleasure. Hers did too. Trembled with the joy of unity, of becoming intermeshed, indistinguishable from Isaac, one being…

  One.

  She didn’t swallow his seed immediately, she savoured it, swirling the warm viscous liquid around her mouth. Her nourishment, her punishment, her Isaac.

  “Swallow me, Wanwisa, swallow your food.”

  She only wanted to obey, the perfect little sex slave, but… She slowly raised her eyes to meet his. His breath caught as she swallowed, her gaze unwavering, treasuring her homage to him.

  “Did I tell you to look at me, Talia?”

  His tone was menacing, but his eyes were consumed by the spectacular something, their warmth obliterating the sternness of his voice. They made her brave.

  “No, Your Majesty, it was my gift to you. I thought my master would enjoy watching me swallow his seed.”

  He caught his breath again while she held hers. This could go either way, but whatever way it went she was glad she had spoken. She would always be honest and express her truth.

  “I will excuse your temerity on this occasion, Talia, for it has given me great pleasure. You are an inspired visionary who understands her master’s needs. I will reward you for that.”

  Reward? Her punishment had turned to reward? Her awareness was growing, her instinctive belief becoming an indisputable truth. This was nothing but a spectacularly elaborate game. A detailed game, expertly crafted and played by Isaac… but just a game.

  A game.

  She must not allow him to realise how clever she was.

  Not yet.

  She bowed her head graciously. “My master is very kind.”

  “Look at me, Talia.”

  She raised her eyes as he buttoned his trousers, and the blood drained from her head. Tiny sparkling silver stars danced before her dazed eyes as she fell…