The Captive Flesh (2 page)

‘After the spartan surroundings and simple food you must be ready for a little luxury. You must allow me to spoil you. Rest assured that your every need will be catered for at my house.'

Claudine dimpled. ‘It sounds wonderful. I am heartily sick of serviceable blue serge gowns, plain food, and bare chambers with stone walls. The mere mention of luxury makes my mouth water!'

Kasim laughed. ‘Soon we shall reach Algiers. I will show you around the souk with its spice, perfume, and jewellery stalls. At my house you shall drink fruit sherbet while fountains play and the scent of jasmine and rose surrounds you. Ah, my dear young ladies, there is so much I am eager to show you.'

There was such promise in his deep velvety voice that Marietta felt another delicious little shiver creep down her back. Claudine slanted her a scandalised glance and laughed throatily. Both of them were eager to reach Algiers, sensing somehow that their lives were about to change forever.

Kasim stood up, tossing back the heavy cowl of his cloak, and crossed the cabin to the door. ‘Forgive my thoughtlessness. You must both be exhausted by your ordeal. I shall leave you to sleep.'

Marietta did not feel tired. On the contrary, she felt exhilarated. She had never met anyone with such charm, such presence, and felt Kasim was something special. He seemed to radiate a magnetic energy. She was disappointed that their conversation must end, even for a short while. Kasim was so visually attractive. His thick dark hair fell in waves onto his shoulders.
The voluminous dark clothes he wore concealed his form but, from the way he moved, it was evident that his body, though lean, was heavily muscled.

She felt a stirring in her blood. During the years at the convent her eyes had been starved for the sight of a man. Now fate or destiny had sent Kasim to her. And such a man. Claudine was watching him, the front of her silk tunic rising and falling over the motion of her full bosom.

‘I will give orders that you are not to be disturbed,' Kasim said. ‘I wish you good night. In the morning, if you will permit it, we shall breakfast together. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.'

His face was open now, friendly. Marietta was seered by his charm, but she did not entirely trust him. She wished she knew more about men. Kasim was subtle and sophisticated; dangerous, too, and effortlessly attractive. Too complex a creature for a convent girl to fathom. But Claudine seemed to be won over totally.

‘But … but where will you sleep?' Marietta asked him.

He flashed her a grin over his shoulder. ‘Do not concern yourself on my part,
mademoiselle
Marietta. I shall share my servant's cabin next door. But it is kind of you to think of my welfare. I thank you for your concern.'

Marietta felt an odd little flutter between her thighs as his dark eyes looked deeply into hers for an instant. There was something unreadable in their depths.

Then Kasim turned, and was gone.

Claudine talked of nothing else but Kasim.

‘He is so striking, so cultured. I have never met anyone like him. And his manners are perfect. Such a
gentleman. What is his nationality, do you think? Spanish? No. His name – Kasim – it sounds Arabic. Turkish perhaps. Do you think he liked me? He said I had pretty colouring. Many men do not care for red-blonde hair and freckles. He liked you too, more than me I think, but then you have always had admirers …'

And on and on it went, while Marietta nodded and commented as Claudine paused for breath. She smiled inwardly. Her friend had not been so animated in months. And if she was honest, she too was flattered by Kasim's obvious regard. Flattered and intrigued.

Claudine yawned. ‘The bunk is fairly wide. I think there will be room for us both.'

‘It will be more comfortable than the narrow beds in the dormitory,' Marietta said. ‘I hated the nights there most. That cold cheerless room. The thin scratchy blankets. And I hated having to lie rigidly on my back, my arms outside the sheets, even in the coldest weather.'

‘Just in case we were tempted to explore our own sinful bodies!' Claudine snorted. ‘What disgusting hypocrisy.'

Marietta paused, a suspicion flaring in her mind. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Oh, come now. Now that we are going home there is no need to keep up the pretence. We all know what Sister Anna was.'

Marietta's cheeks flamed. She could not reply.

‘Did you think it was a secret? That you were the only one she liked to torment? Do not look so dismayed. It is nothing to be ashamed of. She did those things to all the prettiest young women. After a time I … I grew to like the things she did to me.'

Marietta's head snapped up. ‘Claudine!'

Then her eyes widened as Claudine dropped the single garment she wore and turned around, giving
Marietta a view of her naked back. She saw now what Claudine had been hiding earlier. There were vivid red stripes across her shapely round buttocks. The weals were raised and, she realised with a shock, beautiful against the pale golden skin of Claudine's lush flesh.

She gasped. ‘You too? But when? Those marks look fresh.'

‘Two days ago. When you thought I was walking on deck Sister Anna summoned me to her cabin. She said I needed to be reminded that chastisement purifies the soul. She said that I was a wanton creature, but she'd beat the sin out of me, as she'd done many times at the convent. I was afraid of her. She was so stern, so rigidly controlled. She made me lie across her lap and bury my face in the musty folds of her robe, so that my groans were muffled. Every stroke burned the tender skin of my bottom, so that I squirmed and cried out. But then … before each new stroke my skin began to itch and throb. It was as if I waited for each new smart of the switch. As if I welcomed the pain.'

Claudine paused. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink. ‘I think Sister Anna knew how I felt because she didn't just beat me. After she finished and I was sobbing with the pain of it, she … she rubbed the handle of the dog whip between my thighs. And then she thrust her hard cold fingers into my body. I couldn't help myself. As she moved her fingers in and out, I writhed against her hand, my cheeks flaming, while my buttocks burned and throbbed still. She called me disgusting, in that soft harsh voice of hers. She said I felt soft and juicy like a rotten fruit and that I smelt like a whore. But I seemed to revel in her insults. The more she reviled me, the more I enjoyed it. My breath came fast. I felt such an explosion of pleasure that I almost fainted. When I'd finished, she made me suck her fingers clean.
Then she pushed me off her lap without a word and went out, leaving me lying sobbing on the floor. Oh, Marietta. And now she is dead. I … I don't know what I feel …'

Tears glistened in Claudine's light-brown eyes. Despite her earlier bravado her full lips trembled. Marietta took her in her arms and stroked her soft hair. A single tear rolled down Claudine's cheek.

‘Hush now. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. I wish we had spoken of this sooner. How many of the others did she mistreat? I thought it was only me. I dared not speak out, lest she find some new way to torment me.'

‘Did she beat you?'

‘No. She chose other ways to humiliate me. Come, you must be cold without your clothes. Let's get into bed. I'll tell you about it when we're tucked up warm.'

Claudine climbed into the bunk while Marietta threw off the last of her clothes and crept in beside her. They lay with their arms entwined. Claudine's full breasts were warm and soft against Marietta's own and she was shorter than her friend. The top of her head fitted comfortably under Marietta's chin. Marietta breathed in Claudine's sweet odour of clean hair and skin.

‘This is nice,' Claudine said, making a little sound of contentment and snuggling into her friend's neck. ‘It reminds me of when we were children and I would creep into your bed when I had a bad dream.'

Marietta smiled, feeling safe and secure also. Claudine's young firm flesh against her own was pleasant – more than pleasant, if she was honest. She tried not to dwell on the feel of it, but it served to emphasise her own memories of Sister Anna's thin spare body; her long humourless face; the faint dusty lavender smell of
her skin and the rasping sound of her cold chapped hands as she rubbed them together.

‘What did she do to you?' Claudine whispered, as if she'd read her mind. ‘Tell me. Let us exorcise all the bad memories, then the old harridan will have no more power over us.'

Marietta's mouth was dry. The shame rose hot within her. Surely she could not … But perhaps it was time to lay old ghosts to rest. She forced herself to speak.

‘It began soon after we arrived at the convent. I thought she didn't like me. She would find fault with everything I did. Always criticising, picking at me. She would wait until we were alone, then she would insist on asking me intimate questions. Like, had I washed all over that day? She would make me open my mouth so that she could see if my teeth were clean, and look in my ears, tugging at the lobes. Sometimes she would make me raise my skirts so that she could inspect my chemise for stains. Once she made me unbraid my hair, then she replaited it, pinning it so tightly to my head that my head ached. Gradually I realised that she was jealous of my youth.'

‘Of your beauty, you mean. How could she not be jealous? She was so plain. Surely no one ever looked at her with desire. No need to be modest, Marietta. The poor repressed bitch must have wanted to eat you up!'

Marietta blushed hotly. ‘That's … almost what she did. I had been given the task of cleaning her room. I used to dread it but I dared not complain. What reason could I give for refusing? She made me scrub and dust every inch of it. The worst thing was cleaning the floor. I had to scrub the stone whilst on my knees. Sister Anna would watch. She … she made me pin up my dress and chemise. Pin them up high above my waist
and secure them out of the way, so that my naked buttocks were exposed. She said this was to protect my clothes from the wet floor. I had to move backwards and forwards, scrubbing vigorously, knowing that her eyes were on my swaying buttocks and that she could see the dark valley between them. I would almost weep with mortification.'

‘But she never used the lash on you? I am surprised. What a delectable sight you must have been! I almost wish I could have seen you! Is that all she did?'

‘At first. It seemed enough for her to humiliate me. Then one day she was in an odd mood. Her eyes seemed to burn into mine. There was a sort of leashed tension in her thin harsh body. I sensed that something was about to happen. I scrubbed the floor in the usual way, then I stood up to go. My face was red with shame. I longed to pull down my skirts and cover myself, but Sister Anna did not dismiss me. She kept looking at the triangle between my thighs, her eyes roving restlessly over my exposed hips and belly so that I became uneasy and longed to cover myself with my hands. But I dared not move. She told me to leave my dress and chemise pinned up. Then she called me over to where she sat on a wooden bench. She told me to sit astride it, facing her. I was acutely conscious of my half-naked state and I hesitated. She grew angry and said that if I did not obey her implicitly she would punish me severely. Then she said that I looked untidy and asked again if I had been neglecting to wash myself thoroughly. I insisted that I had not. Indeed, I had bathed just an hour or so before I began my tasks. She did not believe me. She said my hair was a mess and made me unbraid it. She brushed it out and spread it around my shoulders.'

Marietta stopped and took a breath. Then went on:

‘All the time that she was brushing and teasing strands of my hair through her fingers, I was aware of the hardness of the bench under my parted thighs. I longed to close them together, to hide the triangle of hair and my intimate parts that were revealed by my position. My thighs trembled, but if I made the slightest move to adjust my position she slapped my legs, hard. After a while she ordered me to lie on the wooden bench and said that she intended to examine me. Oh, Claudine … I can hardly go on.'

Claudine's gentle fingers caressed Marietta's back. Her firm thighs opened. She drew one of Marietta's legs into her embrace and closed her legs around it, squeezing gently. Marietta felt the soft fleece of Claudine's sex against her upper thigh. She felt heat too and a slight dampness.

Her friend's voice, when it came, was light and a little breathless. ‘Please go on, Marietta. Tell me everything.'

‘I laid on the narrow bench. My shirts still looped up past my waist. My thighs were together, knees pressed so tightly against each other that my muscles ached. Sister Anna examined my bare feet. She pushed her fingers between my toes, separating each one roughly, stroking and pulling at them. Then her hands slid up my ankles and stroked my calves. They felt horribly rough and dry on my skin. Her fingers were always cold. She felt behind my knees, examining the creases, all the time commenting on the texture of my skin. She lingered on my upper legs, parting my thighs a little, stroking and pinching the surfaces – hard. The pain brought tears to my eyes. I made a sound of protest and shrank away, clamping my legs together with even more force. She slapped my face. “Lie still,” she hissed, sternly, pulling at my thighs so that I loosened them
again. I was frightened. She had the strangest look on her face. There was a faint colour in her thin pale cheeks. I lay still, not daring to move, while her cold hard eyes fastened on the place between my thighs. “Spread your legs, rest them one either side of the bench,” she ordered. “Do not resist me, lest you wish to feel the lash. I want to see if you have washed that disgraceful fount of temptation.”‘

Claudine's breath came faster. Marietta felt the heat of her sex against her thigh increase as Claudine began to move, rubbing herself on the firm flesh. Claudine placed her lips on Marietta's cheek, covering it with tiny butterfly-light kisses.