THE PRIZE (3 page)

Chapter 4

Ayesha buckled on her safety belt, folded her hands demurely in her lap and looking up through her eyelashes, furtively watched the men opposite her. The tall Englishman seemed to be taking a particular interest in her. His eyes were travelling slowly over every single inch of her body and he seemed completely absorbed in his examination. She didn't mind particularly, she was perfectly used to appreciative male scrutiny, but she was puzzled. He didn't seem to be examining her with any lust in his expression, rather he was inspecting her in the way a mechanic might an expensive sports car. Her client for the weekend, the thin faced, hawk-like Prince on the other hand was looking at her exposed thighs with a much more openly lustful expression. That was fine. She crossed her legs and made no move to tug the hem of the skirt down - game on, she thought.

No one spoke until the plane had levelled out and was cruising in the brilliant skies above the clouds and the 'Fasten Seatbelts' sign had gone out. Then as she set about preparing drinks the Prince addressed her.

"Sir John employed you. No?"

"Yes, Your
Highness
." Ayesha approached his seat with a glass of vodka and cranberry juice.

"And what exactly were the terms of your employment for this assignment?"

Ayesha looked him in the eyes as she handed him the glass, letting her fingers trail over his as he took it. Good for Sir John, she thought, it made her life easier if the client knew a little of what to expect. "He said I was to do whatever you wanted me to."

The Prince smiled. "And my colleague here?"

Mentally Ayesha added several figures to the paycheque she would demand for this mission, but it was nothing new. The man in question who had been looking out of the window now turned to face her and his dark eyes bored into hers.

"I can be very accommodating, Y
our Highness," she said. Having two clients would pass the time pleasantly in any case.

"Good!" the Prince exclaimed. "It's so much simpler when everyone knows where they stand."

Ayesha smiled at him and excused herself for just a minute. At this stage of a flight she normally prepared some food and drink for the pilot and co-pilot. If they didn't get anything they might come back to the cabin.........

She took the food - two different dishes of course - into the cockpit. The two Aussies were men she had flown with before and as she had often stayed at the same hotels, they were under no illusions about the true nature of her business. Once or twice she had given them freebies so as to have something to taunt Karen with. They greeted her with good-natured banter and she stayed for a moment or two before saying, "Listen guys, if you need the toilet or anything, could you go now? Only I've got some business for an hour or so."

"Okay, darling." The co-pilot winked broadly at her.
"We'll leave you in peace. And we won't loop the loop on th
e vinegar stroke, will we Clive?
"

Ayesha laughed then leaned down and whispered huskily in his ear, "If you do, you'll be going round in circles all night."

Back in the cabin the Prince was still seated but the Englishman was standing, leaning against the bulkhead at the far end.

"We may as well get started, so you'll strip please." It was the Englishman rather than the Prince who spoke and Ayesha glanced at him for confirmation that the man was speaking for him too. He nodded, suddenly seeming much colder than before.

Normally she would have made a performance of stripping, well aware of the effect her body had on men. But the calmness and remoteness of the men ignited a spark of rebellion in her. She undressed with as much attempt at being alluring as if she had been in a doctor's surgery. And when she was naked she stood with her hands on her hips and looked challengingly at the Englishman opposite her. He failed to display any emotion at all, his eyes just assessing, measuring.

The Prince however was not so reserved. "Well, well. What have we stumbled across here, Peter? She is quite a specimen. The breasts are magnificent! Come over here."

Only the last words were addressed to her, she made a mental note to make Sir John pay for the word 'specimen'. She walked slowly across the cabin and slowly bent over in front of the Prince, placing her hands either side of him. It was a pose she adopted whenever she had more than one client. It offered her breasts, swaying seductively under her, to one and exposed everything between her legs to the other.

Suddenly there was a reaction from the Englishman. He gave a sharp bark of laughter.

"She is quite a specimen indeed, Highness! Someone's been at her with a crop I'd say. Turn and show, girl!"

Ayesha had completely forgotten the marks of Sir John's beating and suddenly her heart raced, she wasn't so sure she wanted this strange, cold man to know she enjoyed a bit of pain. But the damage had been done and she stood up and did as she had been told, glaring at the man. She felt the Prince's cool hands trace the ladder of marks down her cheeks.

"Who beat you, girl?" he asked.

"Sir John."

"Why?"

Ayesha hesitated. The atmosphere in the cabin was suddenly oppressively tense. "He....he does it sometimes, so that a client will know I can be spanked.....a little."

"So if I chose to, I could have you bend for a beating right here and now." It was the Englishman who took up the questioning. Ayesha was getting flustered. Usually clients leaped on her gleefully by now and were either buried to the hilt between her legs or looking for a suitable implement to use on her bottom, not conducting some kind of interrogation.

"Yes."

"And if I wanted to restrain you?"

"No. I don’t allow that."

"And you enjoy the pain?"

"A little. Enough. I'm well paid."

The Englishman had been looking hard at her and standing close. Now he looked past her and addressed the Prince. "She's perfect. It's all been on her terms so far, and for money. I'll accept the challenge."

Ayesha had no idea what he was talking about but it had some effect on the Prince. Suddenly his hand was pushing between her legs from behind and she immediately moved her legs apart to accommodate him, relieved to get back onto familiar ground. And it did seem as if whatever their motives had been in questioning her, it was now irrelevant. Even the cold Englishman seemed keen to take advantage of her body in the usual way.

She was turned back to face the Prince and made to bend forward again - further down this time, so she could undo his flies, take out his cock and suck it. That was not an unwelcome task for her, he had the type of penis that she really liked, long and slender with an intriguing curve back towards the stomach as it reared into full erection. He didn't stretch her mouth uncomfortably when she took him in fully and the taste of his pre-ejaculate was excitingly pungent, promising tasty gouts of hot sperm if he chose to come in her throat. She encouraged him to do that by pushing down, relaxing her throat and tilting her head back to try and provide as straight a channel for him as she could. She was pleased to hear him sigh in pleasure as she slid down until his bush of hair was tickling her nose.

Behind her the Englishman's fingers were exploring her vulva and anus. Even as she swallowed as much of the Prince as she could she remembered to roll her hips and sway in invitation. Soon he was able to forage with nearly his whole hand inside her squelching sex and she was making little mewing sounds of delight around the warm shaft in her mouth. These turned into a sudden grunt of surprise as she felt the Englishman's erection imperiously thrust into her, pushing straight in and going for full penetration in one long stroke. The Prince's hands suddenly reached under her and the fingers buried themselves in her breasts, trapping the rubbery nipples between them and squeezing.

"I'm going to finish off where I am and I'll try the other end next time," she heard the Prince say and she readied herself for the eruption. The Englishman began pistoning in and out hard, slapping his pelvis against her buttocks and driving the Prince even deeper down her gullet while the hands at her breasts mauled and gripped ever harder. She squealed but then felt the cock swell against her tongue and steadied herself as best she could. The Prince let out a guttural sigh, the Englishman slammed into her and stayed inside her to the hilt, the cock in her mouth began to pump and the one in her vagina began to spurt at the same time. Ayesha came with all the enthusiasm that Sir John had valued so highly.

She stayed where she was as she trembled in the aftermath, still swallowing the sperm and licking the softening shaft while the Englishman slid out of her vagina, only standing up once the Prince was clean and she could trust her legs. It had been a long time since she had had a double, she realised, and she had forgotten how good it was.

She gathered her clothes while the men zipped themselves up and retreated to the toilet to dress. She knew they would be discussing her 'cunt', her 'tits' and her mouth. Normally she quite liked her clients telling her about her body but these two men still bothered her a little. After only one more drink, they were both ready to go again.

This time Ayesha gave them a bit more of a show as she stripped and then she was back in the same position but with the Englishman in her mouth this time. His cock was what she always called a jawcracker. It was thick and the veins stood out in interesting relief but it was also of a respectable length. It didn't help her that he pressed down on her head to force every inch of himself into her and then bucked up at her with sadistic glee even while she was trying to swallow his thick spurts. The Prince took considerably longer in her vagina and continued a steady rhythm until his colleague had been cleaned, had slid free of her lips and stood up. Then he too pushed down on her head until she was resting it on her crossed forearms on the seat and began to fuck her in earnest. He had phenomenal staying power she realised hazily as she was bounced and shaken about on the end of his weapon. He was so vigorous that she couldn't make any moves of her own, just let him smack himself into her until she was howling her way towards her third orgasm with that long hard rod of his battering at the very neck of her womb. With a series of breathless little screams she climaxed in response to a final burst of rapid and even harder thrusts and she fell to her knees as he pulled free. She managed to gulp in two or three lungfuls of air and then she was being hauled up again. To her dismay, the Prince was still fully erect. He turned her round and laid the backs of her shoulders on the seat so that she was kneeling with her body arched and her head thrown back. He stood astride her and bent his knees until she could lick at the tightly crinkled scrotum but then he settled his legs further apart and lowered himself some more. Ayesha understood and squeezed her breasts together, forming a soft tunnel for him. He rammed himself through it only a few times before she felt his hot sperm splashing out over her throat and chin.

After that second encounter they didn't bother getting dressed again - the men having paid her the compliment of stripping. Ayesha was well used to working naked and as she moved around the cabin knew that her body would surely stoke up the fires of lust soon enough. However she wasn't prepared for the form it took.

"Go to my bag and open it." It was the Englishman who spoke. Ayesha went to the locker and pulled out the Luis Vuitton case, placed it on a seat and unzipped it.

"Look under the clothes and bring what you find to me."

Ayesha carefully lifted the immaculately folded clothes and to her amazement found a coiled whip nestling beneath them. What sort of man travelled on a business trip with a whip? And it was a spiteful looking thing too. It had a shaped wooden handle and the lashes were thin and corded, about ten inches long with shiny black plastic tips. She began to add noughts to what she would demand for this mission as she picked it up and took it to the Englishman.

"Hands behind your back and open your legs," he told her, confirming her worst fears.

She looked at him, lounging in his seat, his body wiry and tough-looking, the expression on his face mocking. She realised that he was certain she would back down and a hot tide of revolt rose inside her. Who did he think he was anyway? She could take a bit of pain, that's all it was, she could control things and anyway the flight crew wouldn't let anything happen to her - not if they wanted any more freebies. Flicking her hair back proudly, Ayesha put her hands behind her and opened her legs. She didn't just shuffle them apart she spread them, daring the strange man to do his worst.

"She's a biddable thing, isn't she?" the Prince commented.

"Only because she's being ordered to do something she wants to anyway. Or something she's being paid to do. There's no real discipline there, no obedience for obedience's sake.......No fear."

Ayesha bit her tongue. Never had she been so openly and insultingly discussed by clients before. But now the Englishman was standing directly in front of her and she locked eyes with him impudently. He smiled at her and let the wicked little lashes trail across the upper curves of her breasts.

"Ever been whipped there?"

Ayesha shook her head and swallowed nervously. Usually all the clients had were belts or straps. Only a couple of times had anyone whipped her back. She was beginning to regret her moment of revolt, just how much pain could this wretched man inflict? Sir John was going to pay and pay for this one.