Chapter 62: Chapter 62 The Sex Slave 1
"I have the one you ordered sir."
"The brunette with amethyst eyes and long, long, such long legs?" He became so wrapped up in the image of her that he almost didn’t hear the servant’s response.
"Yes. She’s tied up in there." He nodded towards a tent to Matthew’s right.
"She’s quite a catch, sir."
"That’s why I chose her." His voice was deep and husky. "What’s her name?"
"No one knows, sir." fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
"Well then, I’ll just have to find out, won’t I?" he began walking towards the tent, which was a large and circular tent made of orange, green and red patterned fabric in a geometric pattern. "Thank you, Jules. I’ll let you know how I get on."
The servant bowed and left. Matthew strode around the tent, his riding boots scuffing along the dirt as he walked, his riding crop tapping against the side of his leg as a picture formed in his mind of the lady within this chamber, awaiting his arrival.
As he approached the entrance he saw dark green curtains framed it. The curtains were tied back allowing entrance.
Light filtered out from lamps tied to different poles around the tent.
Matthew walked through the doorway, his gaze washing over the beautiful and stunning woman kneeling, naked on the floor at the centre of the tent.
Her wrists were bound above her head by two silk scarves of crimson.
She also wore a gag made from the same silk, this time in a pine green giving a
noticeable contrast. Her head was down, her hair falling forward and covering most of her face.
The curls of her hair caressed her slender shoulders and, in this position, the ends curled around her breasts. They weren’t the largest breasts he’d ever seen but they were wonderful all the same.
He’d always preferred average sized breasts, round and firm with creamy skin and rosy peaks.
She didn’t notice his arrival. But, when she heard the curtains closing she lifted her head, her purple gaze roaming across his body. He turned his attention back to her and saw her turn away.
"If it pleases you to look, look." He began to walk towards her - slowly and stealthily. She stole another glance at him, at his hand clad in a black leather glove holding a riding crop. He was tapping the leather whip against his leg as he walked; sending admiring glances her way.
"I chose well." He said to himself in a satisfied tone, "Very well."
He circled her twice, all the time keeping his eyes locked on her, his crop tapping away. Finishing his tour of her, he walked over to the immensely large, immensely expensive bed to one side of the tent, adjacent to the entrance.
Sitting on the edge and still keeping one eye fixed on the naked and gorgeously wonderful woman tied to the central tent pole, he removed his gloves and boots. He discarded them quickly before taking his crop back into his hand and bare-footed he padded across to the centre of the tent.
His trousers, now free from the riding boots, rustled as he walked, the bronze fabric teasing the rugs he crossed as the fabric almost touched them.
Using the crop, he stroked the leather end up from her belly, between her breasts and along her throat. He tilted her chin up so that she would look at him. She obliged - she couldn’t resist. As soon as his skin met hers, fire shot through her and she felt weak, losing the anger she built up during her wait.
Tossing her hair back her gaze met his. The amethysts met the sapphires. His face softened as he stared down at her. Her mouth was not visible through the gag but he knew she had a wonderful mouth - perfect lips that he so much wanted to taste.
"You are such a remarkable creature - so wonderful and sweet." His hand traced the line of her jaw. "So soft." Reaching behind her head he removed the gag.
For a moment she just looked up at him but quickly decided to speak, while she had the chance. She knew that if she said exactly what she wanted to say to him, he’d gag her within milliseconds.
"I despise men like you." She said through gritted teeth. "You make me sick."
"Really." He sounded amused. "I see you skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the insults."
"The truth hurts, doesn’t it?" she tried to bite his hand as he pushed a strand of hair back from her face.
"Temper, temper. Feisty little thing aren’t you?"
"Well I’m not just going to give in and let you [censored] me. Without a good fight the result is somewhat dim. It wouldn’t be worth it. Anyway, I don’t want to spoil your fun.".
"And how would you know anything about me? You laid eyes on me less than ten minutes ago, you insulted me and now you’re telling me what I would like." He rubbed his chin. "And in such a sarcastic tone." He added.
"What do you expect me to do - just lay here? I’d rather be dead!"
Still keeping his distance, Matthew knelt down in front of the trussed up creature. "I should beat you," He said, "for your temper. I intend to tame you and properly."
She threw him a defiant look. "That’s just what I’d expect from you - you’re the lowest of the low. Why, you should be in the stables eating horse shit."
He raised his hand as if to strike her but resisted. "Shut up. I am definitely not low." He grinned. "If anything you should be the one eating the horse shit." His eyes flared with anger.
"Looks like you’ve got a temper problem too."
"See, we’ve barely begun and already we’ve found something in common. We are well matched." He brushed his hand across her breast, seeing the nipple hardening beneath his touch.
"Get off me!" She yelled, trying her best to wriggle out of her restraints.
"You realise the more you resist me, the more I keep coming back but stronger. That is, until you have satisfied me. What’s your name? I need to know what to call you when you quench my thirst... for a while at least.
"What’s your name first?"