Dr Casswell's Student (4 page)

Slowly now she unfastened her bra and posed for a second or two, absorbing the erotic potential of her reflection before undoing the zip of her skirt and pushing it to the carpet. Her waist was narrow, her hips full and womanly, her belly softly rounded with an almost peach-like blush to it. Her skirt and underwear seemed to have been discarded in one sweeping movement. She turned to admire herself in profile, while her fingertips eagerly outlined a trail down over her breasts and belly. Her nipples were hard as cherry pits, her whole body suffused with a bloom of desire.

Casswell drained his glass, imagining Sarah bound and tied for his pleasure. He could easily visualise her struggling against her restraints, those pert breasts thrust forward, perspiration trickling between them in crystal droplets. He could hear her cry out as the whip bit into that lush, ripe flesh, her mouth open, eyes wide with fear and desire.

Through the looking-glass he watched as Sarah flexed her hips, revealing a tantalising glimpse of her sex; a pink, moist exotic flower that begged for his attention. It was trimmed by a corona of dark shiny curls, and as he watched Sarah artfully slid a finger between the heavy outer lips.

Casswell closed his eyes for an instant, imagining the sensation of her sweet body moving against and around his. Her seduction and education would be pure joy – she was so ready. Leaning closer it was almost as if he could smell her through the cool glass. Like Beatrice, Sarah would have to learn and understand who was master and who slave. As yet unaware of her power and her raw sexuality, she would be better once he had broken her in; taught her what he expected and needed from her.

Through the mirror Casswell could see that Sarah’s busy fingers had found the pleasure bud that nestled deep within those fragrant lips. He sensed it was time to act. He got to his feet and moved towards the door with Chang, who was no more than a step or two behind him.

When he stepped into Sarah’s room he saw the strange mixture of shock and excitement on her face. She stepped away from the mirror, frantically reaching for her clothes, stunned and deeply embarrassed at being caught in so vulnerable and so seductive a state.

‘Stand still,’ he ordered in a voice that brooked no contradiction. She froze, her hands outstretched.

‘What do you want?’ she whispered.

Casswell smiled thinly. ‘Oh come, come, you’re not unintelligent, Miss Morgan, surely you already know the answer to that? You must have guessed why I invited you here. You are my Beatrice.’

She stepped away from him, eyes bright with fear and excitement.

‘No,’ she murmured, although they both knew it was a lie. Her tone was uneven and yet her fear had made her less conscious of her nakedness. There was a definite air of defiance about her stance. How delightful, thought Casswell. What a pleasure it would be to train such a beautiful, strong-willed creature. ‘You’re mistaken,’ she continued.

‘I am?’ he said and turned away, feigning indifference. ‘What a terrible shame. In that case I won’t waste any more of your time. You may leave now, my dear. Tonight. I really have no desire to keep you here against your will. Chang will pack for you.’

He saw something flash across Sarah’s eyes and then he extended a hand in invitation. ‘Or perhaps you might like to reconsider? Tell me honestly that you weren’t excited by Beatrice’s seduction? Tell me that some part of you did not tremble with delight as you imagined the kiss of the whip or the cut of the belt on her ripe and eager flesh. Tell me, Sarah… tell me. Tell me why you are naked in front of the mirror seeking solitary satisfaction?’

To his delight Sarah Morgan flushed scarlet and looked down.

Rigel Casswell knew then that Sarah was his. It would take time for her to understand what he truly wanted from her, but she had taken that first step towards embracing her true nature.

He nodded to Chang, who caught hold of Sarah’s arm. Her instinctive reaction was to pull away.

Casswell shook his head. ‘Don’t fight the need that courses through your veins, Miss Morgan. I can see it in your eyes. Chang will prepare you for me.’

Sarah stared at him, and then without protest let Chang lead her into the bathroom.

Hardly able to believe what was happening to her, Sarah felt as if she had stepped into some sort of dark compelling dream. There was a sense of unreality; lust and fear were a heady mixture. She could feel her pulse racing while she waited for the Oriental man to reveal what was to follow.

His face was an impassive mask as he moved around the room, silent and apparently unmoved by either her nakedness or her vulnerability. Sarah felt a ripple of apprehension. Chang opened the door to the shower cubicle and then turned towards her. From his pocket he produced a pair of soft leather manacles linked by several inches of fine chain. He held out his hand towards her – the gesture was an invitation not a command – although everything about his demeanour suggested this was not an invitation she could easily refuse.

Without thinking she stepped closer. It seemed that since Doctor Casswell had stepped into her bedroom her body was moving with a will of its own, as if Beatrice de Fleur’s desire was fuelling her compliance. She wondered where this side of her nature had been hidden until now. Was Beatrice’s diary the key that had unlocked this secret part of her?

Chang touched her and broke the chain of thought. Quickly, as if afraid she might change her mind, he slipped a leather strap over each wrist, jerking them tight before buckling them closed. She gasped with surprise as the leather bit into her flesh.

‘Turn around and lift your arms above your head,’ he ordered. Glancing up, she saw that set into the tiles above the shower head was a hook on an adjustable stem. It struck her then that she was not the first houseguest to have succumbed to Doctor Casswell’s erotic invitation, but did as she was told. The servant’s cool hands settled on her slim hips and lifted a little so the chain between the manacles caught over the hook and secured her for whatever might follow.

Sarah closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She had never felt or been so vulnerable in her life, and the sensation sent adrenaline surging through her veins like a burning fuse.

The white marble tiles were icy cool as they brushed against her spine. As Chang let go, the muscles in her arms screamed out in protest at being asked to take the weight of her body. She flinched while, very gently, Chang lowered the hook a little so the balls of her feet rested on the floor… and then he pulled her closer. For the first time she had a chance to look deep into the glacial darkness of his eyes.

‘You will learn now what it really feels like to be tied like an animal waiting for your master’s pleasure,’ he said without emotion. ‘You will soon understand that you are a slave, like Beatrice, a creature created purely for pleasure. It will be better if you accept your fate and learn the lessons now. It will be much easier.’

Sarah shivered. From his jacket Chang drew a broad strip of what looked liked chamois leather. When Sarah realised that he intended to blindfold her with it, she pulled away and started to protest.

The small man shook his head; it was pointless to resist. What could she do or say to make him stop? She had a feeling her begging would only excite him. He would blindfold her with or without her co-operation, and the results would be the same.

For an instant Sarah felt a bright plume of fear rising from deep in her belly; she was totally helpless to resist either Chang or his master. The implications of the game she had agreed to play hit home as the Oriental reached up and knotted the leather firmly around her eyes. It clung tight like a second skin, moulding itself across the contours of her face, plunging her into complete darkness.

Sarah’s reaction was to pull away from Chang, but it was pointless. She could do nothing other than await whatever was in store. For a few seconds all she could hear was the frantic beat of her pulse, and then there was a hiss and a deluge of water; icy cold and as sharp as needles, and then gradually getting warmer. As the torrent exploded across her skin she cried out, feeling faint as the water poured down over her, the sheer force of it making her gasp for breath.

She strained against her restraints, every nerve ending alight, her mind trying to reach beyond the darkness of the mask into the bathroom to guess what it was the two men had planned for her. After a moment or two the water slowed to a trickle and two hands began to work over her flesh; competent hands that coolly explored every inch as they soaped her.

‘Open you legs,’ Chang ordered.

Sarah did as she was told, only too aware of her vulnerability. The next thing she felt was a hand lathering the soft mount of her sex, followed by an odd sweeping motion, and a rasping sound. She held her breath, waiting for another stroke to confirm her fears. It came after a second or two and was followed by the terrifying but inescapable knowledge that the cool bite was a razor shaving away the corona of hair around her sex. She froze, too terrified to move and almost too terrified to breathe.

Chang was skilled in his work, and Rigel Casswell always enjoyed watching his girls being made ready. Sarah Morgan’s preparations were of particular interest to him; he had every reason to believe she was still a virgin – and the idea both delighted and excited him. Certainly her lithe body had an exquisitely unsullied quality that was a joy to behold. He almost regretted that it was Chang who had the pleasure of touching her first.

The Oriental had stripped to the waist to attend to Sarah, his compact and sleekly muscled body, honed from marshal arts training, was a stunning contrast to Sarah’s pale curves.

From beneath the blindfold a few tendrils of dark hair had formed into ringlets that framed her pretty face. A stray curl clung to her cheek, emphasising her open mouth and its full pink lips. Her tongue was visible as she struggled to control her breathing. Her breasts were covered in water droplets that glittered like crystals as she moved, her nipples as hard and dark as summer fruits.

Casswell imagined the heat of Sarah’s skin, wet and slick beneath Chang’s knowing fingertips, and shivered with pure pleasure. As he watched, the little Oriental parted Sarah’s long legs, trimming away the last traces of pubic hair.

Casswell nodded his approval; enhanced by the line of her hip bones and the soft rise of her belly, Sarah’s naked sex looked as pink and ripe as a fresh peach. Chang’s fingers retraced the path of the razor, gently outlining the sensitive contours of the outer lips. Sarah’s instinctive response was to move with his touch and moan softly.

Casswell smiled; like Beatrice de Fleur, beneath the innocent unsullied exterior the girl was wanton. And, like Beatrice, Sarah would be all the better when she was broken. Chang glanced in Casswell’s direction. The Oriental’s expression was totally devoid of emotion. Casswell often wondered at the exact nature of the thoughts behind those jet-black eyes. He knew it was a mistake to believe that Chang was untouched by the passion, the pleasure, and the pain, his fingertips unleashed.

Chang lifted the shower head down and rinsed away the last of the remaining foam from Sarah’s body. The water pressure was strong enough to part the lips of the girl’s sex and course down over her pleasure bud. The Oriental played the water back and forth making the girl shiver with pure delight; it was sweet torture.

Sarah began to move in time with the hypnotic movements, her hips following the stream of water as if they were connected to the glittering arc. She was straining forward now, eager to enjoy its watery caresses. Her excitement was rising rapidly. Casswell could see Chang had sensed it too, and just as the girl thrust her hips towards him, he turned the water off.

Casswell could sense her disappointment and frustration. As the flow ceased she slumped forward, deflated, as the final prize was snatched away. Sarah would be so good when she was trained. Everything about her, every natural instinct was to seek out pleasure.

Chang towelled her dry. His movements were almost brusque now, the coarse cotton bringing a pleasant pink glow to the girl’s creamy flesh. Once she was dry he rubbed a fragrant oil into her skin. It was an oil Casswell had had specially blended for occasions such as this. The heady scent of sandalwood and ylang ylang filled the bathroom, mixing with half a dozen other exotic aromas.

Casswell’s pulse quickened. He had brought the perfume back from the Far East. It was the perfume of pure desire; the perfume of pleasure and pain mixed on a palette of creamy white flesh.

The little man’s hands worked rhythmically up and down the girl’s slim body, highlighting the taut bands of muscle in her thighs and across her belly and breasts. It wouldn’t be long now, Casswell thought, before she was ready for him.

Behind the leather mask Sarah teetered helplessly on the edge of ecstasy. It seemed no part of her was spared Chang’s knowing touch. Every inch of her skin glowed. It felt as if his caresses had lulled her into a strange waking sleep; a place between worlds where she was both calm and incredibly excited.

Just as she began to think the massage would go on forever, Chang lifted her down. To her relief he held her tight, as she knew her legs would buckle. Without hesitation he picked her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather. What surprised her most was the sensation of his bare flesh touching hers; she had no idea he had taken off his tunic jacket to bathe and shave her. His flesh was as smooth as alabaster and almost as cool.