His Little Courtesan (14 page)

"Morning spanking? Dear
Lord, no…" Jane groaned. "Papa, please. I cannot sit and—"

"One…"

"Papa!"

"Two…"

She scrambled out of the bed,
tripping over the linens in an effort to arrive before he reached the final number.
He looked pleased as she stood completely disheveled before him. Pushing the
hair from her face, he cupped her cheek, rubbing the red wrinkles from her
smooth skin with his thumb.

"Good girl. Every morning
will start with a spanking, as will every evening before you go to bed. The
level of discomfort will depend upon the time it takes for you to go across my
lap, and the sass that accompanies it. I want you to lift up your skirts and
drop your drawers."

Jane glanced at Usha and felt
her face heat as the woman crossed her arms and nodded. Biting her lower lip,
the girl eased her soft undergarments over her hips and down past her thighs.
Gathering her short skirts in her hands, she lifted the material away from her
bottom. Her eyes never left the floor.

"I must use the water
closet first," she whispered.

"Usha? Take her to
relieve herself, please. And then bring me the hairbrush."

A look of panic shot across
Jane's face. Before she could speak, Usha had her by the arm and was helping
her hobble her to the commode.

"Usha, I can care for
myself. Please…"

"Is it not the custom of
your country that children are to be seen and not heard?"

"Yes, but neither Father
nor Philip believed in such a thing."

"What is the purpose of
such a theory?"

Jane shrugged, finishing her
business. "I'm not certain. I assume it is to teach them how to listen and
learn from observing."

"Then it is a good thing,
yes? Come. Your papa is waiting, and you do not want him to grow
impatient."

Philip raised his eyebrow as
Jane again entered the bedroom. "Are you ready now? Stalling the receipt
of your daily spankings will not benefit you, so consider this your first, and
last, word of advisement. Across my lap. Now."

Wincing as his hand rested upon
her still tender mounds, Jane held her breath in anticipation of the agony her
bottom would again experience. Sensing his hand lifting from her flesh, she
whimpered and squeezed her eyes closed. It fell with a loud crack.

"Oh!" The tiny sound
expelled from her lips. His hand fell again, just slightly lower, eliciting the
same sound. Jane shifted, lifting her bottom closer to his palm. It felt
pleasant! Smack by delicious smack, her womanhood responded by growing moist
and hungry. He repeatedly landed his blows across the apex of her cheeks and
down along the junction of her thighs, occasionally catching down the length of
her slender legs.

"Philip? I must go and
see to preparations for the morning meal," Usha interrupted, her tone
tinged with amusement. "Should you require me, please ring for a
servant."

"We will be down
shortly," he responded, smacking the jiggling bottom in rapid succession
and earning a yelp. "I will take care of our little girl's needs."

"I have no doubt that you
will," Usha said with a giggle, quickly departing.

Jane groaned as her wetness
seeped through her clothing. The spanking continued, inflaming her passion with
every stroke. Despite the pain and bruising from her discipline the day before,
her body responded with eager desire to the clapping palm against bare flesh.
His stiffness poked uncomfortably against her belly as well, and she waited to
see how he would seek to relieve his own discomfort.

"On your knees," he
ordered gruffly. "I cannot view a bottom so red and not want to do
something with it."

Jane scrambled to the mattress, raising her backside into the
air and swaying eagerly for his attention. She held her breath as his bulbous
tip eased its way into her damp cavern and then sank inside to fill her hungry
void. He whispered a word into her ear, and Jane responded by slowly stretching
her right leg out and bending her left leg to the side. She supported her
weight on her elbow as he rested his long torso against her back, sliding his
thick member in a loving caress within her.

Philip swelled inside her, stiffening and increasing his
rhythm as he came close to spending. His large hand pushed her left leg higher
towards her chest, opening her more for his penetration. He lunged three more
times and flipped Jane onto her back.

There was a dark passion in his eyes that she had not
witnessed before. He placed her bent left leg to press again her chest and
pumped with animalistic demand, before filling her with his seed. Her clit was
swollen with desire, her womb hungry for relief, yet none was given. He slowly
withdrew his softening organ, kissed her quickly on the mouth and pulled away
from the bed to adjust his trousers.

"Philip?"

"Clean yourself up while I have Usha come back to dress
you for the day. I will see you for breakfast in thirty minutes."

"But…"

"Do not touch yourself, Jane." His voice held a
menacing warning. "That hairbrush will sit on the bureau as a reminder to
obey me."

He was gone. Her womanhood throbbed and ached with want,
overpowering even the remnant of tenderness of her bottom. She buried her face
in a pillow and screamed. Denying her needs was far worse than any spanking he
administered—and he knew it.

***

By the third day of experiencing sensual spankings and being
twisted into positions which allowed her the greatest stimulation without being
able to achieve release, Jane was beside herself.

Whenever he did not have his nose buried in ledgers, Philip
had it buried in her hair, her neck, or between her legs. He teased, taunted
and tantalized her with kisses and nibbles, bringing her to the brink of
sensuality and then stopping a hair's breadth before she exploded. Even as she
attempted to complete her 'chores', his physical presence distracted her. As
promised, she was never left unsupervised and, hence, was unable to bring her
needy body to completion.

"Jane? Were you not told to prepare for dinner?"
Usha asked, a bowl of fruit down next to the bed.

The girl sat up, her hair in disarray after she had pounded
herself with a pillow. "He is
killing
me, Usha! I feel so… so used! I cannot abide being in the proximity of that man
any longer," she bemoaned. "This torture he brings to my flesh is
beyond contempt. It is far worse than any spanking that he could
administer."

"Most women enjoy it when their husbands make them
hunger for them."

"He is causing me distress. It is cruel what he does to
me. If I were doing such a thing to him…"

"Are you not?"

"Am I not what, Usha?"

"Are you not doing the same to him?"

Jane stared at her blankly. "I do not impose myself upon
him and make him long for me, and then refuse."

"You do not? My eyes tell me differently." Usha
held up a hand to silence her. "Philip loves you with every fiber of his
soul. His longing for you grows as you stay close to him, as does his need to
possess and protect you. It is a longing borne of the heart, not his manhood.
When you disobey or defy the rules he made for your safety, it shreds his heart
and leaves him in great pain. A pain that could not be relieved if he lost you
forever."

Usha took a deep breath and cut open an orange, allowing her
words to sink in. "Eat this and tell me what you see and taste."

"It's an orange, Usha. Please, no riddles."

"The sweetness you enjoy comes with a price. The outer
covering, which is bitter and inedible, must be broken through. However, even
that needs to be performed with care. Watch me," the woman said, picking
another piece of fruit from the basket. She carved intricate lines through the
skin. "With a sharp knife, I made this a beautiful object to display. It
even gives off a nice scent. But you cannot eat it. It serves no purpose except
being beautiful and pleasing the senses."

She then sliced through the flesh and peeled away the bitter
rind. "By cutting past the surface, I can make the flesh vulnerable and
ready to be enjoyed. The cutting of a knife can be painful, but productive.
Without a knife…" she smashed her fist down and splattered the fruit on
the table, "the fruit cannot be fully enjoyed."

Jane blinked, confused. "What is your point?"

"The process by which Philip has chosen to obtain the
sweetness you have within you might not be pleasant, but it has purpose.
Embrace the purpose instead of fighting against it, and you will find
peace."

***

Jane had
been confined to the cottage for nearly ten days, directed by Usha and Philip
to perform her chores, practice her lessons, and obey every order given without
argument or discourse. The staff had taken it upon themselves to actively seek
opportunities to spend time with her as well. Philip had hidden his amusement
as his household found multiple excuses to personally care for the master's
'little girl', including the bringing of sweets as a reward for lessons learned
and chores completed. Her punishment had turned into a time of joy as Jane grew
closer to her many caregivers and discovered true contentment—even in the
confinement of her home, and the lack of sensual fulfillment following Philip's
daily engagements with her body. She learned the meaning of embracing the
purpose of her discipline, and found herself looking forward to the ensuing
days with excitement.

Even
when Philip left her to attend to business at the docks, she no longer felt
slighted, and happily engaged in her role as bookkeeper, with her new doll
sitting by her side, urging her on. She also maintained obedience to his orders
not to pleasure herself, and eased her burden with the help of the ever-present
Kama Sutra and meditation exercises. She was stunned to discover the pride she
felt every time she completed another day of denying herself as she gifted Philip
with her obedience.

Upon his
return, he rewarded her with the rare and unexpected treat of being permitted
to sit alone, unsupervised, upon the dock at the river's edge, as well as
encouraged to roam the paths of the garden. He was specific, however, that she
was to find places of peace so that she could practice the different positions
and breathing of meditation that Usha had diligently taught her. He implored
her to begin her practice by using the gentle ripples of the current as an
example of the ease with which her body was to flow.

No
longer feeling foolish as she attempted to balance and position herself, the
little courtesan in training closed her eyes and concentrated on allowing her
body to respond to her environment. She inhaled deeply, stretching her limbs
while listening with care to the mesmerizing chants of a festival being held in
a village up the river.

There
was no denying the power of the ancient chant and its effect on her body. Like
Philip's lips, it grazed her senses and grew into a palpable pressure in her
core before moving in a snakelike dance down her spine. Ignoring the fear of
judgment should her actions be witnessed, Jane responded to the haunting music
as though it were a lover. Her spirit undulated along with her flesh, growing
into an undeniable and potent desire for something greater than pleasure. She
took the unrelenting pulse of the music within her as though it were a rigid
cock pressing her soft interior with the sweet massage of love. Her fingers
rested against the outsides of her thighs and she kept them in place,
struggling against the overwhelming desire to ease the tingling appeals of her
overwrought womanhood.

A tiny
groan of desire rumbled her in throat as the chant, the bells, the mass of raw
emotion in the voices of the singers, and the gentle lapping of the river water
combined into a symphony of lust. Her body responded with a feverish arousal,
feeling like an ethereal sitar being gently plucked by the talented fingers of
a Hindi goddess. Giving into the hypnotic sounds around her, she released
herself to the sensation and allowed her imagination to float, picturing Philip
brushing his talented lips over the stiffening peaks of her breasts… before he
boldly ravaged her aching pussy from behind.

Inhaling
deeply through her nose, Jane stretched into another position that opened her
thighs and bottom to full access in any manner that Philip could choose. The
deep longing to straddle his mouth and relieve her need made her body throb
from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Could she find satisfaction
without the help of flesh and blood—even her own? Could she calm her
raging need and still the sensual trembling that both her desire and the music
brought to her?

Jane
rose and walked silently into the garden area, the silk pyjamas she wore
fluttering against her sensitive skin and lightly caressing her flesh. She
frowned as the music and chants grew louder, and followed the sound without
leaving the path. The trees opened to reveal the old temple grounds and
fountained pond she had previously visited, but this time it was attended by a
small gathering of people who were dressed in all the colors of the rainbow.
They stood in a horseshoe, chanting and tossing colored powder over a man
standing in the center of the group.