Dr Casswell's Plaything by Sarah Fisher Read Free Book Online Page A

and touch and twist those pretty little nipples. I want you to pleasure yourself for me – make yourself come for me.’
    Sarah hesitated, and the curator’s expression hardened. ‘Do you dare to disobey my wishes, Miss Morgan? I’m warning you, it is not in your best interests to disobey me.’
    Sarah started to shake her head, but moving with a speed that belied his bulk, Mustafa caught hold of her hair and jerked her close to him. She winced and let out a cry.
    ‘You do exactly as I say,’ he growled. ‘Without you and me down here now, there is no manuscript for your precious master to work on. No translation, no computer, no nothing. ‘You do exactly as I say or he is out of here.’
    Sarah gasped as his fingers tightened, but her tormentor had not finished with her yet.
    ‘And then tomorrow you will come down her and fuck that ice queen, Weissman, down here in the dust and filth, on that bed, straddle her, sit on her face and I will watch her lick you like a dog. And when she is done, you are going to stick your pretty little tongue deep inside her, make her writhe and cry out for mercy and then trust me, Miss Morgan, I will fuck you both.’
    He caught hold of her hand and pressed it hard against his engorged cock, and bending her hand inside his he held it tight to him. ‘You understand me?’
    Sarah gasped and tried to nod again, but this time he pulled her to him, kissing her hungrily, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth, coarse hands grabbing at her body, mauling her. He tasted of cheap tobacco and coffee. It was pointless to resist him. He was like a hungry animal and groaned and snorted as he cupped the rise of her sex, his thick fingers seeking entry. The smell of his body and breath made her feel nauseous, yet she had no choice but to co-operate.
    After a few minutes he pushed her away. He was panting and slick with sweat. ‘There is time enough for me to touch you later. For now you touch yourself, for my pleasure.’ He smiled with salacious triumph as she hesitantly sat on the chair and very slowly draped her legs, one over each of the arms.
    He nodded. ‘Good, good,’ and waving her up a little, slipped a cushion under her bottom so he could see exactly what was on offer.
    Sarah closed her eyes, humiliated and ashamed, but intimidated by the filthy man’s attention, she reluctantly began to toy with her breasts, fingers circling and teasing the soft peaks into stiffness while her free hand slowly traced a path down over her belly to the contours of her sex.
    But it seemed that this was not good enough for him. ‘No, no!’ he snapped furiously. ‘You think I am a fool, eh? Let me see your face. I want to see your eyes, look at me. Look at me! Do it as if you mean it or I will call one of my men in here to do it for you. That great ape who brought in your master’s present – he would sell his soul for the chance to fuck a white girl like you. You want me to call him?’
    Sarah felt her eyes fill with tears as she stared up at his bloated features.
    Mustafa sneered. ‘You are so defiant. Think yourself better than me, do you?’
    Sarah shook her head. ‘No, no,’ she murmured. ‘I’m just nervous.’ It was true; she was nervous and repelled by him.
    Mustafa did not look convinced. ‘Get up,’ he snarled. ‘I will show you who is the master here,’ and catching hold of her arm he dragged her off the chair. Before she could gather her senses he sat down and pulled Sarah down with him, folding her over his knees.
    ‘I see you already know what happens to those who disobey,’ he said huskily, fingering the bruises and weals that still lingered across her bottom. ‘You should take more notice.’
    For a few seconds his hand worked across her buttocks, stroking the soft orbs. Settling himself, he then drew back his hand and slapped her hard. Sarah shrieked as the raw sting of the blow flushed through her, and she jerked on his stout thighs.
    Mustafa grunted; it seemed this was