Odalisque Page 6

  They chuckled together, and Constance felt grateful for Bastien’s unwavering support. All of them sort of idolized Bastien, although he rarely used them sexually. He was father, best friend, and bodyguard all rolled into one. He would always look out for her. So what if Kai didn’t want her? Constance would get over it. At the very least, she’d gotten some very arousing memories out of the whole debacle. She looked into Bastien’s eyes and mustered up a smile.

  He seemed relieved. “You’ll be okay, ma chère?”

  She nodded and wrote, Thank you for everything. I know you only want what’s best for me, and I appreciate that. She paused, and then added, May I serve you? Please?

  Bastien studied her with his trademark assessing gaze. “Are you offering in some attempt to move past Mr. Chandler? Or because you truly wish to serve me?”

  She thought a moment. I always wish to serve you, she wrote. But maybe I’m a little lonely at the moment. And sad.

  He ruffled her hair, brushing it back over her shoulder. “You know what I say about emotion. It can be a danger in this lifestyle. I want you, but I think it would be better to let you work through this sadness in some other way than with your lips around my cock. Rest a while, and set your mind to things. Perhaps later you might visit the grotto for a swim. That always cheers you up.”

  After one last hug, he stood and went to the door, then winked back at her. “Save those cocksucking skills for next week. We’ve got a pretty high profile head of state coming in.”

  *** *** ***

  Kai brooded during dinner. The lights were low and the whole production was faultlessly elegant, as elegant as possible when half the guests were in evening jackets and half the guests were nude. The other men were cordial and easygoing. Over a light repast and wine, they politely questioned Kai on his travels, his philanthropies, and his experiences with his tech company. To his relief, none of the guests showed up in weird masks or costumes. The women were lovely, all four of them. Madeline, Camille, Gwyneth, and...oh...the other one. He couldn’t recall her name.

  He also couldn’t get over the feeling that one woman was missing.

  After dinner and another round of drinks, they retired to an adjoining room. The only light came from a fire burning in the large fireplace. Exquisite champagne flowed from bottles stashed in various locations. The men began to shed their clothes and the women took up alluring stances around the room. Lounging on a couch, leaning back against a pile of pillows. One of them--Camille?--cleared the long low coffee table and lay right on top. Bastien seemed to engineer all of it like some perverse concierge. He led Kai over to Gwyneth, who deftly helped him undress. Kai’s clothes disappeared, he knew not where.

  A couple of the men sat on the couch, speaking loudly in French as women knelt before them and started sucking them off. It was erotic, deviant. It was like something out of a French porn film. God, if only Jessamine could see this.

  Gwyneth was having her way with Kai, drawing his growing erection to its fullest degree in order to sheathe him. Meanwhile, Camille was masturbating on the table, legs spread wide, head thrown back in carefree pleasure. It wasn’t long before the other two men descended on her, stroking and encouraging her. There was no contempt or belittlement, no gangbang vibe to the proceedings. It was sensual and beautiful, not ugly. Kai gave credit to Bastien for that.

  Kai finally relaxed and gave himself up to Gwyneth’s skilled ministrations. She licked and toyed with his cock--yes, with every bit as much skill as Constance. But she wasn’t Constance. She was thinner, blonde rather than brunette, and much more flirtatious. She teased and chatted and cooed. She smiled more than Constance and almost obsessively batted her eyes. Kai looked around the room rather than at her, pretending Gwyneth’s mouth was that of another woman he preferred.

  What if it was Constance on the table being used? Would he have cared? His mind shied away from thinking about it. One of the men was now fucking Camille enthusiastically, while the other buried himself in her throat. A third man was milling around, fresh from his own blowjob, squeezing Camille’s tits. The other two girls were double teaming the other gentleman, their faces buried in his crotch. The lucky libertine drew his legs up with a desultory smile at Kai. One of the girls--what the hell was her name?--took the opportunity to shove her face into his taint. Kai’s cock throbbed in Gwyneth’s mouth. Kai wanted that, exactly that. He stopped Gwyneth with a hand on her head. “Come here.”

  He led her to the sofa where the other man was finishing up. Soon three tongues and three mouths were licking, sucking, lapping. His balls, his cock, his taint, the crease of his thighs and the muscles that ran up in a ‘v’ on either side. He couldn’t remember any of the odalisques’ names now, only thinking of them as Big Boobs, Soft Hair, and Full Lips. God, they were all beautiful, all of them, but none of them intrigued him like Constance. Maybe that was for the best. He hadn’t come here looking for intrigue or the dire emotional connection Bastien had warned him about.

  No. He’d come looking for sexual relief, depravity without guilt. He stopped the girls with a grunt and grabbed the one in the middle, pressing her back against the floor. He had to be inside one of them, any one of them. He’d fuck this one, it would be fine.

  He entered her without preliminaries, finding her copiously wet. He drove her against the floor with his thrusts, drove deep and slow inside her, enjoying the warmth of her cunt. This one had brown hair like Constance, only straighter and softer. She sighed against his ear. Across the room he heard the other men egging on Camille, heard groans and moans and a feminine wail of pleasure peaking.

  It sounded fake.

  Constance. Constance...

  The coos and sighs of the girl he was fucking sounded fake too. He emptied himself inside her, not caring about his partner’s pleasure for the first time in his life. There were four other men in the room, not including Bastien. One of them could bring her off. His heart wasn’t in it.

  He pulled away from her, leaned back against the couch and peeled the condom off his dick. The rush of his orgasm dissipated, leaving him feeling empty and more than a little dirty. He watched the other participants fucking, banging, laughing and feeling each other up. One of the girls was going down on another one and doing a respectable job of it. He observed the scene with almost clinical detachment, the same way he viewed porn at his house.

  His orgiastic impulses had fled with his climax. He looked around for his clothes and found them draped over a stand in the corner. The girls sent him a few glances while he dressed. Yes, you’re lovely. Not for me though. For someone else.

  Bastien drifted over, still fully dressed, still in host mode. “Leaving us so soon?”

  “Forgive me. It’s been a long day. But thank you. The hospitality at Maison Odalisque is”--he swept a hand around at the various fornicating couples--“legendary. It was an enjoyable dinner.” He refrained from giving any critique of the four candidates, and Bastien didn’t press as he escorted him to the door.

  “Before you retire, perhaps you’d enjoy a late night swim at the grotto,” Bastien suggested. “It should be near empty at this hour. The water is fine, very warm and relaxing. And of course, there’s no need for a bathing suit.”

  A refusal was on the tip of Kai’s tongue, but then he thought about relaxing in the humid, secluded pool, and found the idea really suited his mood. He went straight from the dinner party, not even putting his jacket back on.

  The grotto, too, was lit by the light of a recessed fireplace. Faint lights shimmered beneath the water of the man-made pool, creating an almost eerie glow. Mist danced on top of the water in little wisps. Kai threw his clothes over a nearby rock, and was about to slip into the water when he realized he wasn’t alone. A woman was sitting across the pool from him, twenty or thirty feet away. She was hunched over on a rock, her shapely pale legs dangling into the water. She turned her head to look at him and stared.

  Constance.

  She didn’t smile, didn’t even acknow
ledge his presence. Instead, she sank into the water and began to swim--away from him. He called out to her before he realized the stupidity of it. He dove under the water instead and used the faint filtered lights to find her. When he grabbed her legs, she struggled. He surfaced to the sound of her hoarse scream. “Stop!” she said, perfectly clearly. “No!” Those two words seemed to exhaust her available vocabulary. He tried to soothe her but she responded by pushing him away.

  “Constance, relax,” he said. “Calm down.” She has to see your lips to hear you. He took her chin in his fingers and stilled her shaking head. “Look at me. Listen. Calm down.”

  She subsided under his gaze. He saw, now, how her eyes fixed on his lips. Then she raised her eyes to his and gave him a look that felt a lot like a hot knife twisting in his chest. He shook his head, denying the reproach he saw there.

  “It wasn’t me. It was Bastien. All I said was that...that I wasn’t sure...” Kai paused, trying to think of words that wouldn’t sound like excuses, but she was off again, slipping from his arms like a mermaid. She slid under the water and took off like a shot, but he was taller, stronger. Faster. When she came up for air, he was waiting for her.

  “Constance!”

  His expression must have arrested her, if not the pleading note in his voice.

  “Give me a minute to explain. You have to understand--” He drew her close, not wanting her to flit away again. His fingertips traced her curves under the water. He made sure she was looking before he spoke. “It scared me at first, okay? The responsibility of communicating with you. I wasn’t sure I could do it. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. Bastien misunderstood...” Or maybe he had understood all along. “Wait. Did Bastien tell you to come here tonight?”

  Constance thought a moment, and then rolled her eyes in a perfect approximation of Kai’s own feelings.

  “That manipulative bastard,” Kai said with a laugh.

  Constance pulled away from him. She didn’t swim away, but bobbed in the water at arms’ length, dissecting him with an astute gaze.

  Kai drifted beside her, moving his legs slowly to stay afloat. “Listen, I know now... Now that I’ve thought about it... Look, I want you, and you’re the only one I want. Everything else is secondary, and I’m sorry--so sorry--if your feelings were hurt.” He looked down in the water, where her hand floated next to his. He took it, lacing his fingers with hers. “I’ll learn sign language. Whatever. We’ll figure it out as we go along. I can even live with your insect thing.”

  She looked confused. He said it again, more slowly. “Your insect thing. It said on your profile that you were interested in etymology.”

  The most amazing thing happened then. She laughed. She threw back her head and laughed out loud. The melodic sound echoed off the rocks around them while Kai watched in wonder. Obviously, she was laughing at him, but he didn’t care. He thought to himself, she can’t even hear how beautiful her laughter sounds.

  She swam to the edge of the pool near the fire, and he followed her. She pulled herself half out of the water and picked up a little notebook and pen. She wrote two lines while he floated in the water beside her, and then thrust the page under his face.

  Etymology--the study of the origins of words

  Entomology--the study of insects

  He looked back over at her. “I see. Well. That’s actually a relief.”

  She laughed again, her face alight with happiness, and tossed the notebook down. He picked it up and drew her close, handing it back to her. “Tell me. Write for me. How do you feel? Do you want to come with me to the U.S.? Be with me for a year? My odalisque?”

  She didn’t even glance at the notebook, nor did she write a word. Instead she put her arms around his neck. She laid her cheek beside his, trailing fingers through his hair. “Yes,” she whispered against his ear. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  He caught the last yes in a kiss. He took her mouth with all the pent up frustration--and now relief--of his desires. Yes, she would come with him. She pressed closer, and it was all he could do not to spear her on the head of his cock and drive all the way in. If only he had protection, he would have. But there would be plenty of time for that.

  Instead, they spent an hour swimming together, exploring one another’s bodies and getting one another painfully aroused. The shadows danced around them, lending an air of unreality and timelessness to their play. In the absence of condoms they resorted to hand jobs. She rode his fingers under the water, braced against him with her arms clutching his neck. He bit and sucked her nipples, hard and cold in the air above the water, and thrilled to each jerky twitch of her hips. By the time she came, he was nearly bursting himself. She reached eagerly to grasp his cock, running her fingers over it in breathless exploration. It felt naughty and secret. Kai had no doubt they weren’t alone here in this deserted place. He hadn’t attempted to locate the camera, but assumed it was there. But it couldn’t see under the water, to their grasping fingers. It couldn’t hear her sigh in his ear, or his low answering moan as she caressed his balls.

  When he came with a growl, spent his cum in the currents of the murky water, she watched with her hyper-observant gaze. He knew she could never just be some mindless, inert body for his usage. Again, he felt the specter of awesome responsibility he was taking on. But it would be worth it. He was one hundred percent convinced of that.

  So, the next morning, when they sat across the table from Bastien and Maison Odalisque’s elderly lawyer, Kai didn’t feel one iota of doubt. Only impatience--it would be a full month before Constance could come stay with him. Of course, that made sense. Such involved arrangements couldn’t be undertaken in one night. Odalisques weren’t a cash-and-carry kind of thing.

  Kai signed releases for background checks and credit inquiries. He agreed to present medical tests and physicians’ references so he wouldn’t have to use condoms while she was in his care. He signed agreements to require barriers for any others who shared her, agreements to provide needed medical and dental care, and a “privileged” level of keeping and shelter. He agreed to allow her freedom from any menial obligations.

  He learned some things too. That odalisques were guaranteed one day a week free of sexual use by their Master, unless they voluntarily granted him rights. He learned that odalisques were given respite during the days of their period. That odalisques were, by agreement, to be allowed “adequate” time to sleep, to the tune of a required eight hours a night. Kai mentally added it up. All that time he wouldn’t be allowed to fuck her. He chuckled inwardly at the anxiety that provoked. It would never be enough time, never. In the event a year wasn’t enough, the contract allowed for a renewal, up to five times. Six years. After six years of service, all odalisques retired with the small fortunes they had accrued.

  It was all very fascinating. Kai slid a look at Constance perched on the edge of her chair beside him. For the first time since he’d made her acquaintance, she was wearing clothes--and she looked very fetching in her long black jacket and pencil skirt. In negotiations and the signing of documents, odalisques were equals, not slaves, and so clothes were a necessity. Her hair was pulled back in a chignon--a loosely elegant one his fingers itched to bring down. Her legs were primly crossed. Somehow he knew those stockinged legs ended in a garter belt and nothing more.

  A month. It’s not possible.

  But he had a lot to accomplish in that month. He had to take a crash course in sign language--that was task number one. He had to give her a method of communicating with him besides the pen and paper she clutched in her lap. He wanted her to be able to look at him and speak to him without fumbling for a pen.

  He also had to outfit her personal dwelling rooms, explicitly described within the pages of the code. An odella--sleeping quarters--and an adjoining saray outfitted for many lustful hours of pleasure. Sofas, beds, cushions, curtains, lush and plentiful plants, and maybe a spanking bench or two. He would give her the rooms near the rooftop garden and the infinity poo
l. She would be a naked, willing captive in his tower.

  So involved was he in all his excited fantasies that when the meeting came to a close, he was caught off guard. Constance was gone too soon--he only had time for a soft kiss and a quick grope beneath her skirt. Yes, stockings, garters, no panties. Sigh. One month. One month. He’d just authorized a one million dollar bank transfer. The least he was owed was a see-you-in-a-month sendoff fuck!

  “The month will pass quickly,” said Bastien, watching Kai’s crestfallen gaze follow Constance’s legs from the room. “If I might have a moment to speak privately with you…”

  The lawyer left, and for the first time, Kai picked up on a confrontational vibe from Bastien.

  “First of all, I’d like to thank you for visiting Maison Odalisque. I’m very happy that we were able to accommodate your needs.”

  “And I’d like to thank you for suggesting a swim in the grotto last night.” Kai gave him an accusing look. “You really are very good at what you do.”

  Bastien chuckled. “I’ve been doing it a long time. I’ve developed a sense for good matches. I’ve developed a sense for a lot of things.” He leaned forward on his elbows, sobering. “I just want to caution you, as I caution all our candidates for ownership, that the Code d’Odalisque does not outline or delineate, in any way, a binding emotional attachment between owner and odalisque. Sometimes the newness and excitement of the relationship carries the risk of a romantic misunderstanding, from both sides. This is, in fact, something we advise you to avoid.”

  “Yes, you’ve mentioned this before. But as I said, I don’t have time in my life for ‘romantic misunderstandings.’ There’s no need to worry on that account.”

  “Of course. I’m only telling you to be on guard. A woman who enters odalisque slavery is not, how do you say, girlfriend material. She expects--and very much needs--to be used sexually, and not led to expect relationship-type things. Your cock should remain the center of Constance’s concern from day one, and as her keeper, the burden of responsibility in this falls on you. Odalisques are naturally submissive and given to worship. Just be certain, from the start, that she is worshipping the right thing.”