Tales of the Odalisque Read online

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  “She’s a lovely young woman,” Arabella Hamilton said, “with genuine potential. I would hate to see her discouraged.”

  It was an hour or so after lunch. The abbess was perched on a stool at the bar on the main floor of the Odalisque. Lucius was beside her. Together, they were watching the installation of the aerial silks and trapezes to be used in a new live sex act premiering that evening.

  Having confirmed for himself that the rigger was being diligent and thorough, Lucius said, “She doesn’t smoke. If she did, it would have been noted in her health records.”

  “Then why on earth did she leave the abbey? What was she doing?”

  “I don’t know…yet. But I am certain that Miss Bollinger is not as she wishes to appear. Something isn’t right.”

  Arabella Hamilton set down her small glass of chilled limoncello, a pleasant digestif to follow what had been a delicious lunch, and frowned.

  “Do you want me to dismiss her?”

  Lucius shrugged. “She chose to stay and accept punishment.”

  “That hardly matters if you want her out now.”

  “I’m more curious to discover how far she will go in order to stay. That could give me some indication of her ultimate reason for being here.”

  The Odalisque contained many treasures--rare works of art, jewels to rival a monarch’s, gambling revenue that on any given night could top a million pounds. But all that paled when compared to the secrets contained within the files that were the best assurance of good behavior on the part of the clientele. Those could topple dynasties, bring down governments and trigger worldwide financial collapse if not actual wars.

  Whatever Natalia Bollinger was after, he needed to know and quickly.

  Arabella’s deceptively soft brown eyes narrowed in anticipation. “Then I won’t go easy on her. Do you wish to be present?”

  Lucius’ smile hinted at the pleasure of a wolf anticipating its prey. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  His arrival a short time later in the theatre, as the round room in the crypt of the abbey was called, caused a ripple of excitement among the virgins. They were gathered on the stone benches that provided seating around the stage. Garbed in ankle-length, high-necked white robes designed by Elie Saab, they looked the very picture of virginal innocence. Their heads were covered with snugly fitted white lace snoods. With them they wore wide white bonnets that extended along both sides of their lovely faces, in effect restricting their vision, the better to concentrate them on whatever task was at hand.

  Lucius didn’t sit but he did lean against the brick wall of the theater, deliberately positioning himself in the shadows but still with an excellent view of the stage. He didn’t have long to wait.

  The abbess took her place first. Having changed into the traditional snugly fitted riding pants, high-collared white shirt and sleek black boots, she stood beside the long, leather-upholstered bench at the center of the stage. A few moments later, the door to the theatre opened and Natalia appeared. Brigid accompanied her but with her escorting duties accomplished, the maid wasted no time departing.

  Slowly, Natalia made her way down the aisle between the benches toward the stage. She appeared composed but Lucius wasn’t fooled. The tell was in the rigid set of her shoulders. Yet he had to give her credit, her step was firm and she did not falter.

  “Good of you to join us, Miss Bollinger,” the abbess said.

  Staring at the bench, Natalia replied, “I must admit, I didn’t anticipate anything quite so…elaborate.”

  “Did you not? Then I will remind you that you can choose not to stay. Moreover, at any time you can call a halt. Punishment will cease immediately and you will be free to leave. Is that clear?”

  Natalia took a breath, let it out slowly and nodded. “As crystal.”

  “Good.” With a flick of her head, Arabella summoned the virgins. The eight of them rose as one, flowed onto the stage and surrounded Natalia.

  “They will assist you in undressing,” the abbess said.

  “Undressing… that isn’t necessary… that is, if I have to, I’m perfectly capable--”

  Her voice was muffled by the robe being pulled off over her head. Working swiftly, the virgins made swift work of Natalia’s stockings and boots. When she was entirely nude, Arabella said, “Lie face down on the bench.”

  A shame, Lucius thought, he was so enjoying looking at her. Without the barrier of the mirror, she was even more exquisite than he’d thought. A shame, too, that such a flawless ass was soon to be reddened. Still, the marks would heal quickly enough.

  But wait…what was that along one side of her back? He straightened and regarded her more closely, wanting to be sure of what he was seeing. There, just over her ribs, was that a bruise? If so, how had she come by it? He didn’t remember seeing it before when she had stripped for inspection in Arabella’s parlor and it was still pale enough to have been acquired recently. During her little jaunt outside the abbey, perhaps?

  Where had she gone and what had she done to leave such a mark on her?

  His questions would have to wait. The virgins made quick work of their task and withdrew. Arabella walked over to the side of the stage and returned wielding a long, flexible rattan cane half-an-inch in thickness. As such instruments of discipline went, it was far from the most formidable. Still, for the innocent he assessed Miss Bollinger to be, it would come as a shock.

  True to his expectations, at the sight of it she stiffened. For a moment, he half-expected her to leap up off the bench but she controlled herself admirably.

  In a tone that tolerated no nonsense, the abbess said, “Your transgression was significant, Miss Bollinger. That being the case, you will receive twelve strokes of the cane. Again, if you wish punishment to stop, you have only to say so.”

  Natalia squeezed her eyes shut but remained silent.

  “In addition, aware that your impulsiveness could have brought undue regard and notoriety to these premises, during your punishment you will be figged.”

  Those lovely eyes--what color were they exactly?--flew open. Natalia lifted her head and looked at the abbess. “What does that mean?”

  “You will find out some enough.”

  Slowly, Arabella stroked the cane along naughty Miss Bollinger’s back before setting it to rest temporarily just below her shoulder blades. Stepping closer, she bent slightly and separated the cheeks of the exquisite ass she was shortly to mark. Natalia flinched. Clearly, she was not used to being handled in so personal and humiliating a fashion.

  “You seem to have a great difficulty remaining still,” the abbess observed. “We will have to cure you of that, assuming you remain, of course. But first--”

  From the breast pocket of her blouse, she removed a long, thick finger of fresh ginger carved in the shape of a plug. Like the cane, it was about half-an-inch thick, large enough to be noticeable but not especially uncomfortable…initially.

  Lucius stepped farther away from the wall, the better to observe as Arabella slowly inserted the length of raw ginger into Miss Bollinger’s anus. Also virgin, if the doctor was any judge of such things and he was.

  As the plug was pushed deeper, a gathering frown marred Natalia’s lovely features. Clearly, the sensation was unwelcome but it had yet to cause her any real discomfort. He wondered how she would react as its true purpose became evident.

  When the ginger was properly seated, Arabella stepped back and took up the cane again. Flexing it, she said, “Remember, Miss Bollinger, you can call a halt to this at any time you choose and leave here.”

  The only response was a curt nod and the squeezing shut yet again of those lovely, eloquent eyes. Tension ran through her body. That was a mistake. His exquisite miscreant would discover quickly enough what happened when she allowed her muscles to clench.

  Whack!

  Natalia gasped, more he suspected in shock than pain. However she had acquired that bruise, this was not a woman accustomed to being
struck. On the contrary, he could hazard a guess that she had never before experienced corporal punishment.

  That being the case, he could not imagine her holding out for very long. It was a shame in a way; she was undeniably fetching. Intensely so, if he was being honest. But the sooner she was gone, the better.

  The first blow set the tone for what followed. The abbess was no dilettante when it came to administering discipline. On the contrary, she was thorough and exacting.

  Whack!

  Twin streaks of red marred the alabaster perfection of that pertly rounded ass. He dragged his unruly thoughts away from squeezing those lovely cheeks, parting them, finding the little rosebud of her anus and--

  Once again, Miss Bollinger had him rock hard. He had to fight the urge to free his cock, take it in hand and masturbate to the sight of the little miscreant getting her just desserts.

  Whack!

  A barely muffled shriek escaped her as the purpose of the ginger began to make itself felt. The clenching of her muscles squeezed oil from the fresh root, greatly heightening the sensitivity of her inner tissues. The effect wouldn’t last more than a few minutes but that was quite enough under the circumstances. Her entire body had taken on a becoming flush, leaving him to wonder if the root might not also be having an arousing effect, as it did with some women.

  His wayward mind produced the image of her lying hogtied on his bed, her wrists and ankles shackled together to leave her mons fully exposed. Too easily, he could imagine spreading the outer lips of her sex and pressing a thin slice of freshly prepared ginger against her swollen clit. The effect could be quite delightful.

  He had ejaculated in the shower that morning, his usual practice since sex with a partner had ceased to seem worth the effort. The therapist he had consulted after six months of telling himself the problem would go away diagnosed his ennui as the result of a lifestyle saturated with sex.

  Whack!

  Inevitably, so the theory went, he had reached a level of satiation where he no longer wished to indulge. Change his lifestyle and normal, healthy sexual desire would return.

  Or encounter a misbehaving postulant whom he suddenly found himself wanting to fuck in every imaginable way. That would work, too, if his cock was to be believed. And honestly, in a contest between a beard-stroking, pseudo-Freudian and his cock, there was none.

  Whack!

  Natalia cried out, not a scream precisely but close to it. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the sides of the bench. Her head turned and in that instant, their gazes met.

  A bolt of shock tore through Lucius. Her eyes were violet, the rarest of all colors. That was surprise enough but far greater was the impact they had. He was transfixed, unable to look away even when everything in him shouted to do so. Distantly, he was aware of the fierce pounding of his heart, the tightness of his chest as he struggled to breathe, and the rush of blood coursing through his body to his already rock-hard, epic boner.

  But really there was only Natalia and the sudden, stunning connection between them. As though it had always existed, would always, and he had only been enduring until this moment when he could finally begin to live.

  His balls drew up fiercely. Pre-cum seeped from his wayward cock intent on thrusting its way out of his bespoke trousers.

  What the fuck--?

  Desperately, he tried to interpret what was happening to him in terms he could understand but even that proved daunting.

  Had he really been so aroused that a mere look from her was almost enough to make him come?

  He didn’t mind a little domination play--or at least he hadn’t back when he wasn’t just having sex with his own hand. Properly administered to a willing partner, pain could heighten pleasure. But this was different. This was all her, just her, not anything that was being done to her.

  All by herself, Natalia Bollinger or whoever she really was had him so close to the edge that he was about to explode like a randy fourteen year-old. He wanted to step in right then, break the damn cane over his knee, and send Arabella and the virgins fleeing.

  And then…

  Lucius Belmont, who had never in his life come remotely close to taking a woman without her full and eager consent, burned to fuck the virgin beauty before him, her sweet unbreached cunt, her red-striped ass, her soft, ripe mouth, and keep on doing so until all the secrets he saw in her tumultuous gaze were stripped away and she was completely bare to him. Vulnerable, exposed and above all his.

  To do with as he would to the limits of his dark, depraved imagination.

  What the fuck--!

  Whack!

  Chapter Four

  It was him! It had to be. The man who stepped from the shadows along the wall to witness her humiliation could be none other than Lucius Belmont. Over six feet tall, broad shouldered, lithely muscular, he looked like the devil himself. Not the caricature but the real deal, Lucifer Morning Star, the brightest star in the heavens whose compelling beauty and ruthless ambitions led him to an eternity of darkness. She had always assumed that the story was allegorical and also deeply unfair. Now she had to reconsider.

  He was real, he was there and he was looking directly at her. No, more than that. Into her, to the deepest reaches of her soul and the most secret yearnings of the carnal nature she had always struggled to deny.

  She had searched in vain for photos of Lucius Belmont on line but he was a man who clearly valued privacy and had the means to protect it. Even so there should have been some warning. Naomi had gone on about him but Natalia had never imagined…

  Whack!

  Damn, that hurt! And whatever it was in her ass wasn’t helping. She burned…and not simply from the devil’s gaze. What was that she smelled? Ginger? My god, these people truly were diabolical. Was there nothing they would not twist to unnatural use?

  Her bottom stung. She was acutely aware of her nakedness and of how she must appear, stretched out as she was on display, the consequences of her misbehavior clear for all to see.

  If he kept looking at her like that--

  Whack!

  A small, choked scream escaped Natalia. The long years of training had given her a certain toughness where pain was concerned but this was different. With every passing moment, she felt more degraded, which she supposed was the point. More than the strikes of the cane, the sense of being publicly shamed was her true punishment.

  She fought against it but none of her defenses were proof against what she felt lying there naked under the lash of the cane wielded for the satisfaction of Lucius Belmont.

  Not for a moment did she hesitate to attribute her suffering to him. For all that the abbess was an impressive woman, she was merely his agent. As much as Natalia could be grateful that it was not the devil himself administering discipline, his presence there to witness her distress was infuriating.

  Whack!

  Drawing on all her stubborn pride, Natalia pressed her lips together. Her bottom and upper thighs felt on fire. Her throat was clogged with unshed tears. The treacherous thought sped through her mind that she could end this all now with a single word.

  Anger at Lucius turned into fury at herself. Never! She would burn in hell itself before she gave into him.

  Whack!

  Fire lanced across her bottom but this time she hardly noticed it because in the same moment the devil flinched. Clinging to the bench, Natalia stared at him in disbelief. It had to be a trick of her imagination. He couldn’t possibly be taking anything other than pleasure in her plight.

  Yet just there, in the shadows behind his gaze, she thought she saw…regret? Even a hint of…admiration?

  Clearly, she was not in full possession of her senses. How many blows had there been? She should have been keeping count, might have been if the whole situation hadn’t so shocked and unsettled her. All she had to do was get through this. Surely, it would be over soon. She would walk away with her head high and her dignity, as much of it as remained, intact. And then…

  Lucius Belmont would
learn the true nature of the woman he had unknowingly allowed into his domain. She would--

  Whack!

  The tears she had managed to hold back suddenly coursed hot and hated down her cheeks. She wanted to wipe them away but she couldn’t unclench her fingers from the bench.

  Not until she felt the ginger plucked from her posterior and heard the abbess say, “That was twelve, Miss Bollinger. I must say, you bore this unexpectedly well.”

  A slender hand reached out to help her stand and lingered a moment at her elbow to steady her.

  “I hope you are sufficiently chastened, my dear,” the abbess continued, “and that your remaining time with us will be considerably more pleasant.”

  And that, it seemed was that. The virgins once again clustered around her, dropping her robe over her head and murmuring to her kindly as they led her away. She managed a quick glance around but of Lucius Belmont, nothing remained to be seen. The devil had vanished.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Scarcely had he strode into his office than Lucius snatched up a crystal decanter from the credenza, poured a generous measure into a glass, added to that and swigged the whole down in a single swallow. Though considerably older than himself and vastly more mellow, the whiskey burned all the way down. He thought that only just, given what he had witnessed.

  Slashing his hand across the back of his mouth, he reflected that Natalia might very well be the most stubborn and infuriating female he had ever encountered. How in god’s name could he possibly admire her? A hoarse laugh broke from him. Admiration was far from the only emotion she evoked. Lust was paramount.

  Since leaving the temple, his erection had not eased in the slightest. Had she suddenly appeared before him, he doubted that he would have hesitated to bend her over his desk, thrust his cock into her virgin cunt and fuck her senseless. Or push her to her knees and--

  Enough! He was not and never had been a slave to his animal urges. His rise in the world was owed entirely to the formidable exercise of self-control aided by keen intelligence. No woman no matter how treacherously beguiling would ever undo that.