The Maestro

The Maestro
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ISBN:  9781780801155
Author:  Leo Barton
Word Count:  64,864
Format:  eBook

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Deceived and EnslavedDeceived and Enslaved
Latin SubmissionLatin Submission
HelenaHelena


In this work of S&M erotica by Leo Barton, Linda arrives in Barcelona, hoping to study art with the Maestro himself, Delgado, a strict teacher, art connoisseur and perfectionist. From the moment she arrives she finds herself embroiled in a world where S&M is a way of life. She is enticed into visiting The Attica, a nightclub where surreal sexual scenes are enacted, and finds herself drawn in against her will and eventually liberated from the restraints of her previously conformist ideas about sex. A newfound friend, Maria, regales her with stories of her past experiences and Linda's mind is opened to new possibilities she never dreamed existed.

And then there is the Maestro himself: demanding, critical, stern, and powerful. Soon Linda finds herself under his spell and his domination, obeying his every whim!

Linda looked at Delgado incredulously.
   'Now, Mrs Powell. This is your lesson too. What I have said is true. You enjoyed punishing Rebecca. Are you going to deny it?'
   'No, but...'
   'But part of you also envied her. You want to know what it feels like to be caned, don't you? You too want to explore the boundaries of pain. It is no good denying it. And even if you do, you still have no choice, because if you don't do what I tell you or what Rebecca tells you then you can walk out now, and I don't think that you would do that. First, because you would lose too much face. You've probably made a great deal about studying with me, and maybe people would laugh at you. I am famous for my life experiments so I don't care what you might say about me. Your reputation is much more important to you than mine is to me, but the second reason is more important. I saw how you were mocking me this morning, how you wanted to disagree with me, but I also know what this is. This is what psychologists call repression, that's all your resistance is, you see in me a strong dominant personality and your mind can't cope with it, because you know that you want to be dominated, that you want to submit to my will.'
   'I don't think that way at all...'
   'Oh shut up you stupid English girl and take off your clothes,' Delgado said wearily.
   'How dare you?' Linda spoke quietly, staring up to Delgado, less frightened or indignant than excited.
   It wasn't so much a slap as a tap across her face.
   'Take off your clothes! Let's stop playing games,' Delgado repeated.
   Linda hated the man, found him totally repulsive, but she also knew that in part, at least, he was right. There was something terrifyingly awesome about him, about the power he could exercise over people; she had just witnessed a demonstration of it with Rebecca.
   'You know you want this. You know you do, so do as I say.'
   She was wearing a peach knee-length skirt and a white blouse. She could see how Delgado was staring at her body, the plump rotundity of her breasts, the slender legs. She did not know where the words came from. It sounded like a challenge to him, to that seemingly implacable authority.
   'You take off my clothes then.'
   'Mrs Powell, if I have to take off your clothes then you will suffer because I will beat you so hard, much harder than Rebecca here. You won't be able to sit down for a week.'
   'You take off my clothes,' she repeated. She wanted him to beat her. She wanted the firm correction of her supposed art teacher, and at that precise moment she wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
   Her recalcitrance seemed to enrage him. He stepped up to her, towered above her, looked into her eyes, and then suddenly all the angry fire seemed to leave him. He asked softly, almost meekly: 'You want me to take off your clothes?'
   'Yes.'
   'I will hurt you.'
   'Yes.'
   He momentarily looked away, seemingly staring off into distance and then their eyes met, like lovers' eyes, Linda thought later. Delgado placed his hands on the side of her neck, reached his hand down to the front of Linda's blouse, grabbed the material tightly in his hand and then ripped it open, exposing the peach, patterned lace half-bra. Buttons flew off her shirt. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. When she thought about all this later, she imagined that she had watched the simple pearl buttons of her blouse topple onto the dirty wooden floor.
   She felt the shirt being torn from her body. He ripped it off, his face remained implacably stern, but his hands were savage. She could smell his tobacco breath on her. He tossed the tattered blouse onto the floor. Linda could see Rebecca enjoying the spectacle, taking pleasure in Linda's humiliation.
   Linda stood now only in her skirt and the peach bra. Delgado did not bother to unhook the bra, but callously ripped it off as he had done with her blouse, her beautiful breasts bounced down but Delgado did not look at them. His hands reached under her skirt and found her panties. He dug a finger into the material. Linda could feel the pressure of his finger pressing hard against her quim. He gathered the material and ripped apart her panties, the material pressing against her skin. Both his hands found the waistband of her panties. He tore it with his brute strength, and then likewise her skirt.
   The violent sound of the material ripping caused her labial lips to pulse with excitement.
   She stood before him now completely naked apart from the two inch heeled shoes she wore, all her clothes in tatters around her.
   'Kneel on the chair!' he bellowed at her.
   She did not move but stayed exactly where she was. He could not believe her insolence.
   'Make me,' she said with childish petulance.
   He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to the chair, but Linda refused to kneel the way she knew he wanted her to.
   'Rebecca, hold her!'
   Rebecca discovering a new maliciousness grabbed Linda by the hands and dragged her up into the position that Delgado required her to be in. Even though Rebecca held her hard by the wrists, Linda knew that she was much more powerful. She could have resisted quite easily, as she knew ultimately she could have fought against Delgado.
   Behind the game of sexual power being played out there was another deeper, darker battle going on between her and Delgado. She wanted to submit her body to him, for him to beat her, but she refused to submit her whole will as Rebecca had done. This she knew had nothing to do with being a better artist; this was about the strength of her will. Even if Delgado was going to lash her as he had done with Rebecca, she knew she was challenging Delgado's absurd pretensions that had so impressed the others.
   As she looked into Rebecca's cold and trancelike eyes she felt the cane descend on her, the red heat of pain stretched across her buttocks. Another stroke. It was delicious, delectable to be held like this, Rebecca digging her nails into Linda's wrists, her bottom exposed to Delgado's furious eyes and the furious beating he was delivering to her.
   For some reason, though, Delgado was not satisfied. He muttered some imprecation in Spanish that Linda didn't quite understand and she heard the cane topple to the floor. She turned her head around and watched Delgado retrieve a short riding crop from a space where an oil painting lay propped on a wall.
   She watched as he reared the whip above him and lashed her with it, the sting much more intense than the cane, it seared through her body, making the raw ends of her nerves tingle in her delicious pained delight.
   And again the lash came. The pain was intense on her flesh. The pain and the sound and Rebecca's nails all seemed to belong to the same sensation, each component of the experience merging into one feeling, the throbbing of her heart, the sweep of adrenaline through her body, the thud of pressure between her legs.
   Another lash, then another, her legs wilting under each blow, her eyes were closing. Delgado was winning. He must not win! She wanted more and more to go as close to the edge of her pain barrier. Harder, she wanted him to lash her harder. Delgado was conquering her. He must not! All she wanted to do now was to submit to him. It was a delicious temptation.
   He seemed to be able to control the exact level of pain; each lash was applied with a little more ferocity, pushing her closer to the edge. Delgado knew what he was doing, what the real battle between them was about. He was winning her over with each lash. She couldn't let him destroy her.
   The last three lashes were much heavier. It was almost reaching that ambivalent stage that she seemed to instinctively know, that she seemed to have known all her life. She wanted him to stop but she wanted him to go on. Another excruciating lash and she knew it was over. She could hear Delgado's heavy breath, and when she turned to look at him she could see his face covered in a sheen of perspiration after his hefty exertions.
   He hadn't won; she hadn't won. Both of them knew that. Linda had found a strength of will that she did not know she possessed; and she knew that with this will she could be anything. She was, and she thought that Delgado recognised it too, capable of being precisely what she wanted to be. She had the skill, but what was more, the strength and the determination. And this she had learnt under Delgado's lash. No, that was no longer a will to dominate, she saw in Delgado's eyes, that was mutual respect; he had met his match and he realised it.
   'Beat her with her cane,' he instructed Rebecca, his voice calmer now. He had re-established that majestic control. Linda realised that Delgado was indeed a maestro.
   He stood beside her and removed his mighty cock from his trousers. It was thick and already erect. Without being asked, and knowing now that Delgado could dominate Rebecca, but he could no longer dominate her, she removed the slicked purple dome from the loose flaccid sheath of his foreskin and pumped her mouth on him.
   Rebecca hit her firmly on the swollen cheeks of her bottom, but not as hard as Delgado had, but the pain was still exquisite. She felt the hard meat of his cock and the beating were both emanating from his power, the power that she now accepted as a gift.
   She held Delgado by his heavy balls and slid her mouth over his tool, down to the base until the top of his massive helmet pressed against the back of her throat.
   For all that Rebecca was still beating her, she knew now that it was she who was in control, she who was manipulating the maestro. Their eyes gazed at each other intently, even as she sucked on him; their eyes met and he knew what she wanted. He pulled out of her, and pulled the chair that she had been leaning against, next to hers, and with some gesture that Linda didn't see instructed Rebecca to desist from the caning.
   She knelt on the dirty wooden floor now, removed his trousers from him, but with a tenderness that he had not shown to her when he had torn her clothes from her back, and licked the coarse skin of his scrotum. He pulled her up with his strong hands and sat her on his lap, and finding the opening of her sex easily, he slid her onto him.
   Rebecca looked on bemused, aware that something had happened in the room, but unable to understand exactly what it was. Delgado rocked Linda's beautiful body onto his rock hard tool. They both knew that this was not what he had wanted, that through her strength she had thwarted his plans. He grasped her hard by the hips as if she was a doll, hard and fast. Her tender buttocks slapped against the top of his thighs, increasing her pleasure.
   He was so big inside her. He seemed to bury himself deeper inside than any other man had ever done. He was coming now; she was coming as she thudded down onto him. She felt his thighs lock tightly, a prelude to the gushing of his hot jism shooting up into the depth of her, the trigger for her own scintillating climax. He still pushed her hard onto him prolonging her orgasm beyond its natural course. She spasmed in the immensity of her pleasure, an ocean of magnificent delight, before her body sagged on him in its orgasmic release.
   And then he did the strangest thing. Gently, tenderly, he held her by the neck and levered her head up to his and kissed her passionately on the lips.
   All the time Rebecca looked on bewildered, understanding only that something dark and exciting had been unleashed in Linda's soul; she knew instinctively that it was Linda and not her who had both the passion and the will to be an artist.

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The Maestro
Saturday, 8 December 2012  | 

A bit disappointed in that there needed to be more bondage, but not too bad.


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Thanks for your thoughts. We'll pass them on to the author.


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