The Captive Flesh (13 page)

One of the slaves slipped a hand between Claudine's legs and took a firm hold of the wet sex. Holding the flesh-lips closed the slave massaged the firm little plum in a circular motion.

Claudine's breath came fast. The slaves were well
trained in coaxing pleasure from womens' bodies. She loved the fingers that were working on her; they knew exactly what to do. Wonderful sensations radiated from her swollen vulva. The movement of her closed flesh-lips exerted a referred pressure on her swollen clitoris. It flicked from side to side in a subtle and maddening rhythm. The phallus, moving deeply inside her anus, pressed against the place behind her pleasure bud, separated from her cunny by only a thin membrane. Warm drops of oil mixed with her musky juices and ran down her thighs, pooling on the cloth spread beneath her.

The slave holding the phallus laughed and twisted it gently. She pulled it out almost completely and rimmed the tight little mouth with the round carved head. Delicious shivers spread up Claudine's back. She gasped. The whole of her sex felt pincered by sensation.

The erect pleasure bud strained from its flesh-hood. It pulsed and throbbed, trapped within the pinched together sex-lips, tortured by the firm circular movements of the slave's strong fingers. Two other slaves began to lightly spank her buttocks. The slaps were firm, making a crisp sound as they connected with her flesh. The sound, the pain, the heat of the sore buttocks, poured sensation on top of sensation.

Claudine lost control. She began to moan and clutch the edge of the draped table. She thrust her buttocks high into the air and spread her thighs wide. She did not care that the whole of her open flesh-valley was held clear of the table.

Her sex oozed. The slave's grasp was slick. The movements of her hand against the still-closed flesh-lips had become hot and silken. Claudine felt as if all her nerve ends were on fire. She did not care either, that her
buttocks were spread wide; that her distended anus, collared by light brown curls, was pushed out lewdly and moistly for all to see as it sheathed the head of the oiled phallus.

She moaned aloud, loving the sound as it mixed with the sounds of the slaps. Her womb contracted suddenly. Waves of pleasure spread to her belly, the warmth radiating to her buttocks and trembling thighs. The climax was heavy and deep and a sweet ache encompassed the whole area from her belly to her thighs. She collapsed on to the table, her cheek against the rumpled silk. Her body felt boneless.

As her breath began to return to normal, the slaves patted and stroked her, congratulating her on her total abandonment.

‘Kasim Dey will be delighted with you,' they whispered, as they took away the phallus, then wiped her with clean towels and sweet oil.

Claudine felt a new pleasure in that knowledge. Kasim promised to lead her to new heights. She looked forward eagerly to the time when he would summon her.

The slaves, still complimenting and flattering her, asked that she turn over. They propped her up with cushions. Claudine became aware, only then, that Marietta was uttering sounds of protest as she was laid on her back. A slave brought a bowl of paste and set it down next to her friend. Then Marietta seemed to lose her head.

‘Take that stuff away!' she yelled, kicking out at the slaves, ordering them to let her be. She insisted that she would not be depilated.

Claudine had never seen her friend so angry. Leyla was trying to calm her, looking quite distressed. But Marietta was not to be placated.

Claudine was tempted to intervene. She felt exasperated. What did it matter if they were denuded of their body hair? She thought it would be exciting to be naked there, like a child. She could not wait to see how she would look. She shrugged and sipped at the glass of sherbet she was offered. Marietta would come to her senses in her own time. She knew how stubborn her friend was and it was always better to let her fits of temper run their course.

She was sorry that Marietta brought such distress on herself. She truly wished that her friend would grasp what was offered. For what could be better than the life of pleasure at Kasim's harem? It was free from care, free from worries. All they had to do was to reach into themselves and allow their secret natures to surface. This was something Claudine was more than willing to do.

When the slaves brought the paste to Claudine, she smiled, settling back against the cushions and parting her thighs helpfully. She stretched her arms overhead, so that they might spread the paste onto her armpits, and bit down on the sugared plum that a slave had placed in her mouth.

‘Mmm,' she said. ‘I'll have another sweetmeat. And may I have a mirror to watch as I am laid bare?'

‘Marietta! Stop that noise at once!' Kasim rapped, stepping out from behind a screen.

Marietta pulled the cushions over her body to hide her nakedness in a futile gesture of protection. She looked up at Kasim without surprise, knowing that he had already seen her naked. He had probably watched them all in the hammam. She also knew who it was who had given her the massage.

‘So. Now you show yourself,' she said coldly, fighting
to keep her temper. ‘Did it please you to violate my body just now? To have me held down while you … you …'

‘Yes. It did,' he said without inflection. ‘It pleased me to plunder those lovely buttocks while you were unaware that I was doing so. And I felt the way your flesh awoke too, despite your efforts to hide the fact. Really. What do you expect, Marietta? An apology. Ah, you still do not see, do you? I do exactly as I please. Always. And now … I expect my orders to be carried out.'

He drew close to the divan and looked down at her. She wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them up to her chin, and glared up at him. A tiny smile played at the corner of his mouth.

‘So. You will not consent to be depilated? Is that golden fleece of yours so important to you? Then I must look at it more closely.'

He made a movement to the slaves, who hurried to take the flimsy protection of the cushions from Marietta, and to press her back against the divan. She made a sound of protest and resisted them, trying to roll into a ball.

‘Do not presume too much on my good nature,' Kasim said harshly. ‘Your display just now is enough to earn you a beating with the strap! Now, I wish you to show me that you know the meaning of obedience. Has Leyla not even made a beginning with you? Brace your upper body. Spread your knees and place the soles of your feet together. Do it. Now!'

The mention of Leyla penetrated Marietta's fury. She uncurled her legs slowly and sat as he asked, resting her upper body back against the piled cushions. He watched with cold dark eyes. Her legs trembling, she parted her knees a little.

‘Open them wide,' he said.

She flexed her knees and allowed them to fall open.

‘Wider!'

She felt the strain at her groin as her knees relaxed to lay flat on the divan. The soles of her feet met. She gave a little shudder and, as if it were possible to shield even part of herself from him, she crossed her arms on her bare breasts and closed her eyes tight.

Kasim gave a low chuckle. ‘Such charming modesty.' He moved closer. ‘Ah, and here is the centre of your lovely body. I have been watching you in the hammam, feasting my eyes on your beauty, and I have been anticipating the pleasure of doing – this.'

He reached out to tug gently at the light growth of pale blonde curls on her mound. He drew them out with his fingertips, testing the springiness and texture of the hair.

‘Lovely,' he breathed. ‘Never have I seen a prettier little sex.'

Marietta kept her eyes closed tightly as his fingers brushed lightly across the parted sex-lips. It was her dream of last night, come true. Her body was completely open to his gaze. Half of her recoiled in horror at the knowledge that he could do as he wished with her. The other half melted into a sort of welcome submission.

Kasim bent over and inhaled deeply. ‘You have a fine woman's smell. No doubt you taste sweet too. I would sample you. But that can wait for another time. Open your eyes, Marietta. I want you to see the pleasure on my face. And now, I want you to spread those adorable gold-furred lips, with your own fingers, so that I may gaze fully on your most intimate secrets.'

Marietta's eyes flew open in horror. She had thought
there could be nothing worse than being offered up to his gaze like this. But he was going to spare her nothing. He wished her to participate in her own debasement. She saw Leyla watching with a look of sympathy. It gave her the strength to do as Kasim asked.

Her mouth was dry and a pulse beat heavily and insistently deep within her stomach. Slowly she moved her hands downwards then, using two fingers on each hand, she spread her flesh-lips open.

‘Wider,' Kasim said. ‘And pull upwards slightly. I want to see the little kernel of delight. Ah, yes. There. The tip of it slips from the flesh-hood.'

He reached forward and took hold of the little nub between his finger and thumb. Pinching gently, he worked the hood back and forth. Marietta shuddered. Despite her anger, her feelings of helplessness, she felt her body begin to respond. Kasim kept up the torment until her clitoris was pink and fully erect.

‘Excellent,' he said. ‘You may remove your fingers. But leave your legs spread.'

Marietta drew a shuddering breath. She had expected far worse. She had tensed ready for the inward plunge of his fingers and was almost disappointed when he drew away. Then she realised her mistake. He had only just started to humiliate her.

Her fear and excitement mounted to a new pitch as Kasim slowly rolled back the loose cuffs of his black tunic.

‘You may keep your golden fleece. The novelty of it pleases me,' he said pleasantly. ‘I should like for it to be oiled and decorated. And it is to remain prominently on display at all times. Leyla, I wish Marietta to wear clothes that leave bare or enhance this unique treasure of hers.'

‘As you wish, my lord,' Leyla said.

‘It is settled then. But you are to be chastised nonetheless, Marietta. Do you know why?'

Numbly she shook her head. She was close to tears.

‘I alone make all decisions concerning your person. You keep your fleece only because I wish it. Understand? But you will still be punished for refusing to be depilated. Now. Stay as you are. Accept your punishment.'

Marietta remembered his words to her in the garden, ‘There is never any way to avoid my will.'

Now she was to have evidence of that. Using the flat of his hand, Kasim began to slap Marietta on the insides of her thighs. He flicked his hand back and forth, so that the backs and then the fronts of his fingers struck her in turn. He slapped lightly at first, the sound of his hand hitting her flesh clean and crisp. Then he applied the strokes with increasing strength.

The shock of it, more than the pain, stole Marietta's breath. She had never been beaten in her life, and for it to be before an audience was doubly shaming. Leyla, Claudine, and all the slaves were watching. She bowed her head before the disgrace of it.

Let it be over soon. She did not think she could bear it although she realised that it had been inevitable. But at least Leyla had not been punished. She flinched at each stinging double stroke. The pain increased as her skin grew sore, but still he slapped her. Her thighs began to feel warm and the marks of Kasim's fingers were plain on the white skin.

He paused and she thought it was over. Her inner thighs felt hot as a furnace. The soreness was fading already, leaving only a deep flush on her skin. It had not been so bad.

‘This time only, your breasts will be spared. Turn onto your belly,' Kasim ordered.

Unable to stop herself giving a sob of dismay, she obeyed. At least she could hide from all those eyes and close her legs. She felt a moment's relief as she stretched out. The skin of her inner thighs stung and tingled but she hardly had time to concentrate on the discomfort, or to catch her breath.

Kasim began to spank her buttocks with loud, deliberate slaps. She gave a sob of renewed distress, squirming under his hand, pressing her belly into the divan. The cool silk caressed her as she bucked and twisted, unable to escape the stinging slaps.

Her bottom grew hot, the skin glowed and smarted, and still he smacked her. Then, unbelievably, through the pain she began to feel a sort of spiked pleasure. When he spread her buttocks and began spanking the inner surfaces of the cheeks she made a convulsive movement. There seemed to be a building of pressure within her. Her erect nub, wakened by Kasim's touch earlier, began pulsing. Kasim smacked the abused bottom-mouth now. Her throat felt raw with holding in her moans. She bit her lips, afraid that any sound, if it escaped, would be a groan of pleasure.

It was the dream all over again. Her flesh was being led unwillingly into further realms of passion. She hated that he knew this, that he somehow perceived how she hungered for the strokes of his hand.

It was punishment indeed to be shown what she was.

She began to sob aloud as he proceeded. He smacked her past soreness, past the time when she could catch her breath between slaps. A riot of warm pain suffused her from the waist down. It seemed to go on and on, until, at last, he was satisfied.

Kasim stopped; he was breathing hard. ‘Get up,' he said. Slowly she did so. Her face was tear-streaked and
flaming with colour. She looked up at him with brimming eyes and saw with intense satisfaction that his pale face was flushed high along his prominent cheekbones. Her abused buttocks throbbed and burned. She wanted nothing more than to run and hide. Surely now he would allow her to seek the sanctuary of her curtained divan.

But Kasim had still not finished.

‘Leyla. Come,' he said.

Marietta's heart sank. Oh, no. Leyla was not to escape. This was her fault. If she had consented to have the hair removed none of this would have happened. She slanted a look at Leyla, who had paled. She wanted to apologise but there was not time.