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Authors: Elizabeth Coldwell

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BOOK: The Taming of Jessica
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Chapter Seven

At first, Jessica couldn’t see what was causing all the commotion. Only when her master, as she was already coming to think of him, ordered her to turn and look did she see the contraption that had been hauled into the centre of the room. A large, sturdy wooden frame, supported on a base which enabled it to be wheeled from place to place, it had thick leather cuffs, similar to the ones that still kept her hands fastened together, attached to its four corners. And those cuffs were currently buckled around the wrists and ankles of Simone, the red-haired submissive. The girl’s limbs were stretched tight, splaying her out like a star, every inch of her stunning body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. The sight was terrifying, as Jessica imagined how she would look strapped to that thing, her arms and legs pulled out even more tautly, given that Simone must have a good four inches of height on her. Terrifying, and yet her pussy still pulsed with hot anticipation.

‘What – what is that, master?’ she asked, her voice little more than a frightened squeak.

‘First of all, Jessica, you must learn that from now on you don’t speak until I address you, but I’ll let your indiscretion go this time. Secondly, it’s a whipping frame, and a bloody impressive one at that.’

She didn’t need to ask any more questions. Instead, she took another sideways look at the man who’d paid what seemed like an obscene amount of money to own her for the week, trying to decide what she made of him.

When she’d been led to the front of the stage by Mistress Delice, and Damon Barada had begun to list the reasons why she needed to be, as he’d put it, “brought to heel”, she’d barely been able to raise her gaze to look at the audience. There’d been an audible murmur of appreciation when he’d pulled the robe off her shoulders, revealing her body to the crowd. Despite herself, she couldn’t help thinking back to that night in Envied when her unknown partner had as good as stripped her on the dance floor, and the crazy excitement that had overtaken her. For the first time, she realised that though the men here might have all the money and status, her naked beauty and willingness to submit gave her a power of her own.

Still, she’d found herself praying she wouldn’t be bought by the leathery old goat who was married to Adele; the thought of his age-spotted hands pawing her sent a shudder of distaste through her. So it was with some relief that the bidding had been conducted between two of the youngest men in the room. The pretty boy with the German accent, Sebastian whatever his name was – he was definitely her type, with his shoulder-length blond hair, pouting mouth and long, lean body. Having to obey his commands wouldn’t be all bad. But it was the other man who seemed the more determined to secure her services, and if she were honest, she wouldn’t have looked at him twice in the street. When Honey had described a couple of the men staying here as “hot”, she just couldn’t have had this one in mind. Considerably taller than Max, dark stubble bristled on his chin, and his jawline was too heavy, his nose too big for Jessica to consider him as anything but a piece of rough. More than that, something about him didn’t quite fit with the other men in the room; he didn’t seem to share their ease in these opulent surroundings, their belief that they were entitled to be treated with constant deference. From nowhere, the phrase had popped into her head: pauper masquerading as a prince. Could he be a member of Barada’s staff, inflating her price so the other man would be forced to pay more? Yet he’d had no problem producing the money when the German dropped out of the bidding, and he’d led her away with a wide grin of satisfaction on his face.

Now, as she stared in fear and guilty eagerness at Simone, suspended in the whipping frame and awaiting whatever punishment was to come, she felt her master – Jason, hadn’t Barada called him? – run a caressing hand down the length of her back and onto her bum cheek. His fingers weren’t calloused, as she’d expect of someone who did manual work for a living, but neither did he have soft hands like Max. Why, she wondered, was it so important for her to learn anything about him? She’d never bothered getting to know the men she hooked up with in Envied, or the other clubs. But then she’d been the one in charge on those occasions, taking what she wanted from them before returning home to her husband. It didn’t matter who they were, what thoughts and needs they had. This was different.

Her master gave her bottom a gentle slap, just hard enough to attract her attention. ‘It’s about to begin, Jessica. Watch carefully. Ask questions if you feel the need. It’s important that you learn from this.’

‘Yes, master.’ She couldn’t help wondering exactly what he expected her to learn from this perverse exhibition. Though one thing still nagged at her. ‘Master, why is she being punished? I don’t remember her doing anything wrong.’

‘There could be any number of reasons. She could have said something to displease her new owner, she might have spilled a drink – just like you did – or her husband could have asked that regular whippings be part of her treatment while she’s here. I reckon it’s the last of those. Everything Barada said about Simone when he was auctioning her off tells me she’s a full-on pain slut.’

Every answer begged a dozen more. What the hell was a pain slut? How much say did a woman’s husband have in how she was disciplined? Was Jason seriously thinking of strapping her to that same frame because she hadn’t brought his beer to him without spilling some?

The man who’d bought Simone approached the frame, distracting Jessica from her ever more anxious musings. He carried a small whip with a dozen or so tails, all about a foot long, which he trailed though his fingers. The leather thongs, dyed a vivid shade of purple, contrasted arrestingly with his dark skin, and Jessica couldn’t help feeling she was watching a piece of theatre, as much as a punishment. The thought prompted another question.

‘Master,’ she whispered, aware that speaking too loudly would break the reverent hush that had descended on the room. ‘Why does Simone’s new owner look so familiar? Is he an actor?’

Jason shook his head. ‘That’s Wesley Cole. You know, the man behind
Furious Frogs
?’

She didn’t own the game herself, but Jessica knew enough people who were addicted to playing it on their phones and tablet computers. And every newspaper story detailing the astonishing amounts of money the game’s creator had earned was accompanied, she now recalled, by a photo of the man who was about to thrash the helpless Simone.

Cole held the whip up to Simone’s face, letting her take a good look at the implement he was about to use on her.

‘Looks like he’s going easy on her, using that flogger,’ Jason informed Jessica, guiding her away from the bar to join the ring of spectators gathered round the whipping frame. ‘At dinner last night, Chester Macken said when they’re in their playroom at home, he likes to use a bullwhip on Simone. Mind you, it takes quite a bit of skill to handle one of those without causing serious damage.’

Starting at Simone’s shoulders, Cole softly dragged the broad leather tails across her bare skin. As they brushed her nipples, already hard and standing out from the pale pink haloes surrounding them, the redhead gave a moan. Everything about her demeanour suggested she wanted this, craved the punishment. The whip continued on its teasing trail, down over her stomach to slip between her legs. Simone’s moans deepened, which was the moment when Cole pulled the instrument away.

‘Silence,’ he ordered Simone. It was the only thing he said before moving to stand behind her and bringing the flogger down for the first time. The tails struck the girl’s flesh, landing in quick succession on her arse. She hissed between her teeth, but made no other sound.

Cole flicked his wrist, lashing out again and again, striping first one buttock, then the next. Between strokes, he caressed the whip, dragging it across his palm, before bringing it down once more. The only sounds in the room were the slapping of leather on skin and the low murmuring of male voices as the audience discussed between themselves how well the girl was taking her whipping.

The skin of Simone’s rump was taking on a mottled, pinkish hue as Cole continued to beat it, but if the blows were causing her any pain, she gave no real indication apart from an occasional hiccupping whimper.

Cole changed tack. Now the flogger landed on the tops of her thighs, just below the crease where they met Simone’s bum cheeks. The slave grunted and writhed in her bonds, but to Jessica the motions looked more like those of a woman in thrall to pleasure, rather than one who was trying to escape the stinging blows.

Across the room, Jessica noticed Max, standing at the edge of crowd with a brandy snifter clutched in his fist. All his focus seemed to be on the kinky tableau before him, as Cole stalked round to the other side of the frame. Now Jessica saw the real genius of this form of restraint: it left the slave exposed to punishment, front and back, with no need for the dominant to break off from the whipping to reposition her.

‘Master, he’s not going to hit her there, is he?’ Jessica asked anxiously, as Cole brushed the whip over Simone’s visibly quivering stomach.

‘Oh yes,’ Jason assured her, the throaty catch in his voice telling her how much the prospect turned him on. Jessica’s gaze flickered downwards, to the crotch of his dark trousers. The fabric was noticeably stretched around the solid bulk of his cock. ‘And I doubt he’ll draw the line at whipping her belly.’

The little whip slashed down again, landing on the soft swell of Simone’s stomach and making her moan. He gave her half a dozen swift strokes there, reddening the pale flesh, then paused, clutching the ends of the flogger’s tails in his fist.

‘I can see you’ve had nowhere near enough yet, slut,’ Cole commented, ‘and I’ve no intention of stopping until I hear you beg for mercy. Maybe this will do the trick …’

With that, he flicked out the whip in the direction of her breasts, hitting them with an audible slap. Unable to quite believe what she’d just seen, Jessica tried not to let her mouth fall open in horror. If her hands hadn’t been cuffed, she’d have reached up to cradle her own tits in sympathy. But though Simone cried out, she didn’t ask her tormentor to end the punishment. Another blow struck her breasts, and another. Angry red marks marred their creamy perfection, and the fat buds of her nipples jutted out further, almost inviting Cole to whip them again.

Instead, he brought the flogger sharply up between Simone’s legs, slapping her there. Groans of admiration and lust issued from the watching men as Cole showed them the tails of the whip, glistening wet with Simone’s pussy juices. Jessica moaned, trying to imagine how much it must hurt to have that wicked little whip strike such a sensitive, intimate area. Cole repeated the action and Simone yelled again, jerking and humping the air in a frenzy. Though she must have been in pain, the noises she made were all too obviously those of a woman in the throes of orgasm.

‘She – she’s coming,’ Jessica murmured.

‘I told you, she’s a pain slut,’ Jason replied. ‘Some submissives get off on the psychological side of being dominated, but for ones like Simone, it’s all about the physical. Pain mixes with pleasure till they don’t know where one ends and the other one starts, and that’s the result.’

At last, Simone’s spasms of pleasure died away, and she hung limp in her bonds. Cole raised his flogging arm again, about to resume the punishment, only for the girl to sob, ‘Please, master, no more. I beg you to stop.’

‘Very good,’ Cole replied, dropping the flogger to the floor and beginning to release Simone from the cuffs that held her in place.

‘She could have taken more,’ Jason declared, ‘but I reckon she wants him to take her away and deal with her properly, in private.’

‘So what happens now, master?’ Jessica asked, as Jason drained the rest of his beer. Visions flashed through her head of him strapping her into the whipping frame, and forcing her to undergo the same kind of public punishment that had been meted out to Simone. She looked over to where Max had been standing, wondering whether he’d come to her aid if this man tried to force her into taking a flogging she didn’t feel ready to receive, but, like most of the other male guests, he’d wandered away once the scene had finished.

‘Now,’ Jason told her, setting down his empty glass on the bar counter, ‘we go to my room and get to know each other a little better.’

Taking hold of the leash that hung down between her breasts, Jason led Jessica out of the ballroom. She took one last look behind her, but Max was nowhere to be seen. He’d abandoned her to a virtual stranger, and she had no idea when she might be reunited with him again, or what might happen to her before she was.

Chapter Eight

Jason Raynes had a suite on the first floor of the main resort building, up a wide, carpeted staircase from the reception area. She followed him along the corridor, still not entirely comfortable with being made to walk around naked in the company of a fully dressed man, but realising she no longer had anything to hide from all the men who’d seen her displayed on the auction block.

Unlocking the door to his room, he guided Jessica inside, and switched on a free-standing lamp that filled the bedroom with a soft, golden glow. She looked around, admiring a sofa and armchair designed along clean, Scandinavian lines, and a bed that was surely big enough to sleep three people in comfort. A huge, plasma-screen TV hung on one wall, and a small glass and chrome cabinet contained what looked like a DVD player, iPod dock, and satellite receiver – all sleek, state of the art boys’ toys. Clearly, Damon Barada did not believe in sparing any expense when it came to ensuring any and every need was catered to.

The big, double windows that led out onto a balcony were open; though it was too dark to see what lay beyond them, the soft pull and drag of waves on sand let Jessica know the ocean could not be too far away. Quiet luxury, just what she’d expected when Max had told her about Isla Barada, except now she knew it existed for the male guests alone.

Her master took the keys to her cuffs from his trouser pocket and released her. This time, he didn’t promptly re-cuff her wrists. She eyed him warily, wondering if he might have some other cruel trick up his sleeve. After all, there was the small matter of the beer she’d spilled to be resolved. He didn’t strike her as the type who would forget something like that.

He glanced at his watch. ‘Time for a quick lesson before bed, I think.’

At the mention of bed, she found herself trying to stifle a yawn. Even taking into account the afternoon nap she’d shared with Honey, it had still been an awfully long day, and she needed her sleep. Max always complained about how tetchy she became if she didn’t get a solid eight hours.

‘Now, now, Jessica,’ Jason reprimanded her. ‘Your husband expects me to return a properly trained slave to him, and I don’t have a great deal of time to do it. But the sooner you get this right, the sooner you get to sleep.’

‘Yes, master.’ She knew she sounded sulky, but she didn’t care. She wanted Max, wanted the comfort of her own bed, and knew she wasn’t likely to get either of those things for a while.

‘Right, the first thing any good submissive needs to know is how to get into the display position. I want you to kneel on the floor, resting your bottom on your heels.’ When Jessica didn’t immediately rush to obey, Jason snapped, ‘Kneel. You’re only racking up the demerit marks by stringing this out, and the more of those you earn this week, the harsher your punishment will be.’

Mention of punishment sent Jessica dropping to her knees, anxious not to displease her master further.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now, spread your thighs nice and wide. Show me that little pink pussy of yours.’

Revealing herself to him in that fashion would be yet another of the many humiliations she’d been forced to endure today, yet her traitorous pussy leaked its thick nectar at the thought. Unable to meet his gaze, she parted her legs and let him admire the wet folds of her sex lips and the nub of her clit, nestling at their apex.

‘What a gorgeous cunt you have,’ he told her, taking a good, long look. ‘Just made to be licked and fucked and displayed to your master. But you’re not quite in full position yet. Put your hands behind your head and link your fingers together.’

She did as he asked, aware that the movement raised her breasts and thrust them out towards him. From the grin that crossed his stubbled face, he appreciated the effect.

‘Now, every time I give you the command “Display”, that’s how I want you to present yourself. It doesn’t matter where we are, or who we’re with. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, master.’ She half-hoped he wouldn’t force her to display herself to other men, half-hoped he would. If that was her lesson for the evening, she thought, she’d learnt it quickly. Maybe he’d let her sleep now.

When he reached into one of the drawers of his nightstand, she realised he had other ideas. He withdrew a vibrator, still in its plastic packaging. Tearing it open and slotting a couple of batteries into its chamber, he brought it over to her.

‘D’you know what would really please me?’ he asked. ‘If you used this on yourself.’

The toy was of black latex, thickly veined, looking very similar to the one Mistress Delice, in her guise as a customs officer, had pulled from Jessica’s luggage.

‘Damon’s very generous,’ Jason commented. ‘He equips all the suites with a selection of toys for us to use. Of course, some people like to bring their own, like Wesley Cole and that tasty custom-made flogger of his. But for what I have in mind, this is just perfect.’

He held out the vibrator. Jessica obediently unlinked her fingers, noticing they trembled slightly as she took it from him. She should be protesting, telling him she couldn’t do this. Just like she should have protested more strongly when Max had made her seduce Darragh on the plane, or when she’d been ordered to strip and spread her legs for inspection in the interrogation suite. But each time, she’d done what had been asked of her willingly, the submissive streak she’d never realised lay so deeply within her responding to these ever more outrageous requests.

‘Do it, Jessica. Make yourself come for me.’

Turning the base of the toy, she felt it buzz beneath her fingers, its vibrations strong and steady. After everything that had been done to Simone, this wasn’t so bad, she considered. It wasn’t like she hadn’t used one of her own vibrators to put on a show for Max, back in the days before their sex life had taken a back seat to the pressures of his business.

Jason’s gaze was fixed on her pussy as she pressed the tip of the vibe into her slippery cleft. The vibrations were too strong, the intensity on her sensitive flesh too much, and she dialled them down a notch or two. She sensed he wouldn’t want her to come too soon, before he’d really had a chance to enjoy the performance she was about to put on for him.

Jessica ran the vibrator up and down her slit, almost amused at the avid way Jason’s eyes followed its progress, like a greyhound chasing a hare. Assured of his total attention, she pushed the rounded head into her channel, just a little way, feeling herself spread around its thickness. A plastic cock like this could never match the real thing, but right now it gave her exactly the stimulation she needed. Its constant vibrations pulsed through her, making her pussy walls twitch and causing a similar response in her rear passage. She recalled the sensation of Darragh’s thick shaft reaming her arse, and thought of slipping the toy into herself there, then dismissed the idea. One glance at the crotch of her master’s trousers, tented out by the force of his erection, told her how much he was enjoying the sight of that fake dick slipping in and out of her hole – and this was about pleasing him, after all.

With the vibrator lodged deep inside herself, she put a finger to her clit, knowing it wouldn’t take much of that additional stimulation to make her come. Her nipples were taut crests, and she reached up to pinch one, mewling as fierce sensation darted down to her sex. She threw her head back as her pleasure mounted, exposing the pale length of her throat to Jason in a gesture of submission and abandon.

‘Are you close, Jessica?’ he asked.

‘Yes, master,’ she replied, voice husky with need.

‘Then you have ten seconds. If you don’t come within that time, you don’t come at all.’

How could he ask her to come on cue? It was cruel, unnatural. Yet, as his voice counted down the seconds, she felt herself peaking, every muscle tense and tight as the relentless vibrations become too much to resist.

‘Four … Three … Two …’

‘Ah! I – I’m …’ Jessica’s words faded into garbled moans, as her muscles convulsed around the plastic cock and she orgasmed under Jason’s unblinking gaze. She slumped back on her heels, the vibrator, still buzzing, slipping from her fingers to the floor.

Jason picked it up and switched it off, then came to crouch beside her. ‘Good girl,’ he murmured.

Those two simple words of praise woke something in her. Where before he had been stern and commanding, now his tone was tender. She’d followed his instructions and she’d pleased him, just as he’d asked her to. Looking up into his face, she noticed for the first time that his eyes were the brightest cornflower blue, and they were smiling at her. Something melted inside her, as she experienced for the first time the real satisfaction that came from doing as she’d been told. All the harsh words, all the humiliation, had been worth it for this moment.

‘Time for bed,’ he told her, reaching out to help her to her feet.

‘But, master …’ She felt shy of asking the question, even though she knew his cock must still be rock hard. He hadn’t as much as stroked himself while he’d been watching her, and she marvelled at his iron willpower. ‘Wouldn’t you like me to do anything for you?’ The implication in her words was obvious. Her mouth was his if he wanted it, her pussy too. Whatever he needed to relieve his pent-up desire.

He shook his head. ‘Later. Now go in the bathroom and clean yourself up. And this –’ He handed her the vibrator, sticky with her juices.

Jessica went into the bathroom, to discover it was larger than the room she shared with Honey. And what might be happening to Honey now? With a guilty start, Jessica realised this was the first time she’d thought of her friend since she had been led away by her new master, Dos Santos. Perhaps she was in their room even now, waiting for Jessica to arrive so she could share the details of her evening’s adventure.

But when Jessica emerged from the bathroom, having washed both herself and the vibrator with a vanilla-scented body wash that, like so much else in this suite, had been provided for the guests’ use, it quickly became clear that Jason didn’t intend her to return to her own room tonight.

While she’d been out of the room, he’d stripped down to nothing but a pair of black jersey trunks that clung to the substantial outline of his cock and balls. Whatever he did for a living, he must spend a lot of spare time in the gym; the muscles of his stomach were clearly defined, giving him the kind of six-pack she’d only ever seen on the models in adverts for expensive cologne, and when he turned away to place his watch on the nightstand, she almost whistled in appreciation at the firmness of his arse, her inner cougar briefly reasserting itself.

Slipping under the bedcovers, Jason beckoned her to join him, but when she turned aside the sheet on the other side of the bed to his, he snapped, ‘What do you think you’re doing? Your place is at the bottom of the bed.’ When she followed the direction of his pointing finger, she saw that he’d already laid out a throw, decorated with a pattern of palm leaves, for her to sleep under. How foolish of her to imagine they might have slept side by side, like she would have with Max. In her world, the bottom of the bed was where a family pet would sleep. Could that really be how her master viewed her?

She climbed on to the bed, and pulled the throw over herself.

‘Oh, and one last thing. Just in case you have any bright ideas about trying to sneak out of here as soon as I fall asleep …’

He got out of bed, and bent to retrieve something from the floor beneath it. Horrified, Jessica realised he was holding a length of chain with a cuff at one end. Glancing down, she saw that the other end of the chain was securely fixed to the bed leg. Her master wrapped the restraint around her ankle, fastening it tight. Unlike the ones she’d worn earlier, this cuff had a little padlock attached; once he’d snapped it shut, Jessica knew she wasn’t getting free until he decided.

With a little grunt of satisfaction, he climbed back under the covers and switched off the lamp.

Oh Max, she thought, curling up in a miserable ball. How could you have done this to me?

BOOK: The Taming of Jessica
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