The Captive Flesh (10 page)

‘Good. Good little slave,' Kasim said. His face softened, though his dark eyes glistened with cruelty.

He reached out and pinched her nipples. Hard. She winced, but did not look up. The tender peaks gathered under his fingertips as he rolled and tugged at them. They became round like berries, seeming to flame into life, throbbing and burning under his touch.

Then he slapped her breasts lightly, delighting in the way the flesh shook from side to side. He cupped the underswell, lifting each breast as if weighing the flesh, then holding them in his palms, drawing them upwards so firmly that the flesh seemed engorged. The rosy nipples thrust out pertly, shiny with the inner pressure.

‘Bend your head, Marietta. Suckle at your breasts. I want to see your mouth working.'

Marietta's dream self hesitated. She could not do it. It was unthinkable. Kasim waited for her to comply. The pressure in her breasts was disconcerting but not frightening. Kasim's grasp, though hard, was not cruel. Her nipples looked bigger than usual, as if swollen to twice their normal size. They were glowing darkly and tingling; two shameless cones, begging to be soothed by a soft mouth.

‘Surely you do not refuse?' Kasim said softly. He pulled her breasts a fraction higher.

She gave a gasp of pain and bent her neck, turning her head slightly to one side to reach a nipple. She opened her lips over the swollen peak and began mouthing it.

‘Good. Suck gently. Is that not good? Now lick each one. I want to see your tongue.'

She did as he asked, forcing herself to the act, glad that her face was averted. The aching pressure in her breasts became centred on her nipples. Though she hated to be watched, she found pleasure in the act. Her nipples were hot and delicious, tingling in her mouth. The skin was so taut over the hard little pips that it was like licking warm marble. Her tongue circled each one until they were shiny, polished with her saliva. The joint sensations of her tongue on her own nipple-flesh and the hard little nubs questing against the roof of her mouth were unique and tantalising. Her breath quickened.

‘Enough,' Kasim said, letting her breasts drop abruptly.

She almost cried out as her pleasure was interrupted. The nipples were jerked from her mouth. Then she gasped at the bruised and heavy weight of her breasts as they settled back high up against her ribcage. She was painfully aware of them, though he no longer touched them. They seemed swollen still, jutting forward pertly. The soft night air teased her wet nipples.

She tensed, not knowing what to expect next, and kept her chin down, closing her eyes, not daring to look as Kasim trailed his fingers down to her belly. He paused and took the softly rounded flesh in one hand. Squeezing and kneading her belly gently, he teased her navel with his thumb, stroking it with the lightest touch of his nail.

‘What a delightful little flesh-cup this is,' he crooned, softly. His voice was husky with desire. ‘Shall I trickle honey onto your belly and let it pool here in this hollow? Then shall I allow the flow to run down over your plump little mound? How the stickiness of it
would cleave to the lips of your sex. It would anoint the flesh-hood and glaze your kernel of delight. I could bid Leyla suck the honey from you. How I would enjoy watching. Would you like that, Marietta? Would you?'

She dared not answer. Her mouth was dry with fear and anticipation. Surely he would not do as he said. She imagined herself spread out, thighs wide apart, while Leyla knelt between them, and Kasim watching with that hard expression on his face, one finger stroking his full mouth while he gave Leyla instructions. She would die with the shame of it.

But the thought of Leyla, holding open the lips of her sex, of her hot tongue, lapping at the honeyed flesh, made her bear down. Her womb contracted and her insides pulsed. The pink inner lips of her sex convulsed. She hoped Kasim did not notice.

Kasim was silent, intent on stroking her. Her navel seemed to have become a new and unexpected pleasure centre. Her belly trembled as he stroked the firm, soft skin. It was an effort not to draw her muscles in, away from his knowing fingers. Poking a finger into the shallow indentation Kasim gripped the rim of the tiny flesh-cup between finger and thumb and tugged on it, rolling it gently, squeezing it together into a tiny tight slit.

Marietta's dream self felt an answering pull deep in her belly. She was aware of her whole body. It seemed that she was in a state of spreading heat. Her nipples were erect, throbbing from the firm pinching. Her breasts were hot and flushed from the slaps and the squeezing of Kasim's strong fingers. They felt heavy and ripe. The insistent, subtle tugging on her navel sent little shocks of pleasure down to her exposed sex. She lifted her head a little, looking away from the hand that rested on her belly, trying to bring order to her
emotions and to distance herself from his disturbing touch.

The dream shifted.

From the corner of her eye Marietta caught a movement. A man was standing in the shadow of a fig tree. Watching. He was tall, powerfully built, familiar. Her stomach jigged.

Gabriel.

Gabriel, the beautiful slave she had seen chastised in the marketplace; he who had prompted such devastating emotions in her. How long had he been standing there? The sexual tension was evident in every line of his body. His eyes were intent on her face, as if he understood her inner struggle. The breeze blew his long flaxen hair across his face, masking for a moment the grey eyes which had narrowed and were glistening with desire.

Marietta was at first appalled that her shame was being witnessed by another man. Then she perceived a kind of justice in it. Had she not watched Gabriel's humiliation?

A new and heightened awareness swept over her. The thought of Gabriel's eyes roving over her secret flesh, his perfect body a slave to his desire, added an extra dimension to her torment.

She felt the swelling of her sex-lips and knew that she was growing damp. Kasim would see. They would both see. The pink inner-flesh would grow ever more slick and the clitoris would become erect and thrust against its tiny hood. Even now it had begun to throb strongly, stirring into life, eager to be rubbed and stroked. She remembered how Gabriel had looked while he was being lashed; the intensity of the pleasure-pain on his face as he spilled his seed before the crowd.

Kasim's proximity and Gabriel's presence seemed to
merge in her vision. She felt surrounded by the heat of their sexual energy. Yet in an odd way she felt in control of them. These two strong and enigmatic men desired her strongly.

She was at the centre of this tableaux. It was her responses which prompted their joint fascination. Her naked body, her moistly parted sex, which held them in thrall.

The knowledge stirred within her, powerfully erotic. In the midst of debasement then, there could be strength. Marietta felt a primaeval flutter deep inside her womb. She found herself growing increasingly excited, and could no longer control the tremors in her thighs. Still, she longed to hide the evidence of her arousal. She was too exposed, too open in the most intimate way. It frightened her. If only she could move her hips a little, clench her buttocks, so that her parted flesh-lips could close together. She felt the moisture gathering. But she dared not move. It would be a sign of disobedience and would prompt Kasim to carry out ever more refined humilations. If Kasim beat her in front of Gabriel she could not endure it. Just the very thought of it sent tingles of anguish down her spine.

Her cheeks grew hot with shame as she grew wetter. She felt desperate to close her thighs, to draw back from Kasim's relentless touch and his dark probing eyes. But she stayed as she was, her body open and submissive to him. Her mind was in an agony of torment and helpless arousal.

Kasim lifted her chin and stared directly into her eyes. ‘I know that you struggle, lovely one. I am well pleased that you obey me. I knew that you would. It was only a matter of time. And now – I shall reward you.'

He gave her navel a final little tug, then his long
cool fingers moved downwards to stroke her inner thighs. He pinched her gently, then more firmly, so that her eyes watered. From his belt he took a fine leather strap, very long and pliable. He trailed the end of the strap across her parted thighs, then lifted the tip so that it hung between her open sex-lips.

He gave a sound of satisfaction as he stared between her legs. Marietta could not suppress a cry as the dangling strap brushed against her erect bud. Kasim moved the strap so that it played up and down her moist inner petals. She made a tiny movement of her hips, pushing towards the strap's caress. Kasim laughed, low and throatily.

‘Did I tell you to move? Such disobedience! I am going to beat you with this strap until you beg me to stop. Is that not a wonderful reward for that lush body which has betrayed you? I know how hungry that little sex of yours is. How wanton. I can smell the musky heat rising from you, see how swollen your pearl of delight is. Your sex is uncontrolled. It must be tamed. As you have been.'

Marietta's breath rose in her throat on a sob. Not that. Oh, no. She couldn't stand it. She knew that she would disgrace herself and reach her peak of pleasure after the first few strokes. Kasim would see her writhing out of control. His hard mouth would curve with satisfaction. Gabriel too would witness her surrender. Oh, no … Please, she entreated silently.

She threw an agonised glance towards Gabriel. He was leaning against the tree. He smiled, his full mouth tender. Slowly he moved aside his cloak. Marietta saw that he was naked underneath it. He was strongly erect. The cock stood up from its nest of dark-blond curls. Gabriel curled his hand around the thick stem. As he began working it up and down, moving the heavy
balls, he blew her a silent kiss. At the sight of the erect cock, the shiny glans sliding free of the foreskin, the pleasure cramped in Marietta's belly.

Kasim glanced towards Gabriel for the first time. He smiled, a long and sensual smile.

‘And now, Marietta, for my delight, and his too, you shall squirm and moan. That thirsty little sex of yours looks ready for the strap.'

His lips thinned. He raised the strap …

No! Please. Stop! Marietta jerked awake abruptly.

Early morning sunlight streamed into the room through the stained-glass skylight. For a moment she did not know where she was. Then she remembered. She ran trembling fingers over her face. Her cheeks were damp and flushed.

She did not at first register that she was lying on her back with her knees drawn up and her thighs parted wantonly. With a little cry she turned on her side and pressed her thighs together. She wrapped her arms around herself and drew the pillow close for comfort. The dream had been so vivid and she realised that she had been strongly aroused by it. The place between her legs was very wet.

Her whole body felt warm and languid. The cambric chemise she had slept in was twisted into a tight rope and was pushed up beneath her breasts. The low neckline had slipped off one shoulder. The thin silk bedcover had fallen back leaving her exposed from the waist to the knee. She reddened, pulling down the crumpled garment to cover her hips and thighs. What a sight she must have been, lying there flushed and half-naked, her thighs parted exposing her secret flesh. And what a good thing she had pulled her bed curtains closed.

She raised herself on one elbow and pushed her hair
back from her face. The ribbon and silk flowers had come loose and her hair was all meshed into a tangle of pale curls, as if she had been tossing restlessly on the pillows.

It had been only a dream, after all. Nothing to get upset about. But it was the remembered pleasure that chafed at her. Those things that had been done to her dream self – they were so shameful, so exquisitely lewd. But she had felt a kind of freedom in giving up her will to Kasim, knowing that Gabriel watched and understood. Her dream experience seemed to have prompted her to an inner, unwanted honesty. It was a disquieting discovery. She knew that if she stopped resisting Kasim, she would be lost. She did not want that.

The embroidered bed curtains trembled slightly in the breeze from an open window. She could hear the sounds of the other women rising. There were whispered greetings. Female laughter. Then, the sound of steps drawing close.

Claudine pulled the bed curtains aside. ‘Come on, sleepy-head,' she said cheerily. ‘Aren't you hungry? There's food set out ready in the next room. Cheese and preserves and olives, and Russian tea to drink. Just fancy! How very civilised everything is here.'

Claudine looked lovely and exotic. She wore a loose robe of figured black silk over voluminous green trousers. Marietta looked at her animated face. She hadn't the heart to tell her friend that she had no appetite, that she did not care how civilised it all seemed, it was still just a fancy prison. She turned over on to her stomach and buried her face in the pillow.

‘I'm still tired. I'll join you later,' she said.

Claudine made a sound of assent, a musical little noise in her throat. ‘As you wish. Why are you still
wearing that old cambric chemise? Did you not find the silk robe which was left for you? It is so pretty. So much more suitable in this heat. That chemise must be hot and uncomfortable. I think you are being perverse, Marietta. I really do.'

Marietta grunted, feigning sleep. To answer would only involve another pointless discussion. She did not feel ready for that. The dream had disturbed her greatly. She wanted time to let it fade, to compose herself before she faced whatever the day held.

Claudine let the curtain drop back into place. Marietta could imagine her friend's eloquent little shrug, her easy dismissal of her peculiar behaviour. She hugged the pillow to her cheek, trying to empty her mind, while her skin remained in a state of heightened sensitivity. She felt every movement of the cambric chemise as she breathed in and out. The lace at the neckline was scratchy, tickling the swell of her half-uncovered breasts. The movement of the silk bedcover was smooth and cool against her calves and bare feet.