freedom under surveillance

Some time later, I felt the need to walk the streets of L'Île-Rousse, searching for my childhood, but he anticipated my will and ordered me.

- If you have anything to ask, get down on your knees on all fours and beg me to grant it to you. I am right in front of you.

I fell to my knees on the cold floor, my sweaty palms crushing the parquet as my neck buckled under the invisible weight of his authority. A shiver ran down my spine as his hot breath brushed my ear—he was there, so close, his raucous laughter echoing through the air like a whip.

"Beg," he murmured, and his voice was now nothing more than a bestial growl that made my insides vibrate.

- Mercy, Master, may I leave the ship and go into town? I so desperately want to find memories of my childhood, Mercy, Master..."

My voice trembled, my wet lips brushing the floor as my fingers clenched on the icy parquet. A trickle of saliva escaped my lips as his invisible breath traveled along my spine, burning like a hot iron through my tattered robe.

"Do you want to wander the streets like a little female dog in heat?" His invisible hand slammed down on the back of my neck, crushing me brutally against the floor.

"Yes, Master," I thought to myself at that moment, "he was an invisible tyrant, but he still managed to awaken my most perverse urges for submission and exhibitionism."

"Fine, go ahead in your sexiest dress, with no panties underneath. I might take you at the most embarrassing moment for you, but know that I won't take my eyes off you for a second."

He led me to my dressing room and had me choose a light linen dress that accentuated my curves. The dress flared out into a corolla shape, reaching my knees. I knew how sheer it was against the light; his choice wasn't innocent. He wanted me to show off, regardless of whether others would enjoy it. He wouldn't allow me to wear a bra. The dress outlined my nipples, hard with arousal.

I felt his fingers tighten in my hair as a low laugh echoed in my neck. "Good, you little slut," he growled, an invisible pressure forcing me to raise my hips, exposing my bare skin beneath the too-short hem of my silk dress.

I stepped out onto the deck. The air gave me a moment of peace as the sun rose. I felt his body press against me from behind, his hands caressing me so deliciously.

His invisible fingers slid beneath the hem of my dress, tracing their way up my thighs with torturous slowness. I moaned; I was his possession, and I realized my body obeyed him more than myself.

- Go on, I'm right behind you. Show me your island.

I felt his lips press against the nape of my neck as his hands moved up, gripping my hips roughly. The salty air of the harbor suddenly mingled with the musky scent of his desire as a finger slipped between my wet lips, making me stumble on the deck planks. "Walk," he growled as his mouth sucked on the shoulder exposed by my dress, "and tremble knowing I'll take you in front of the first passerby who looks at you for too long."

I tried to banish the thought from my mind and decided to stroll through the old town of L'Île-Rousse. The uneven cobblestones vibrated beneath my ballet flats, each stone warmed by the morning sun reminding me of childhood races between the market stalls. But the illusion of freedom shattered when an invisible hand closed around my waist, eliciting a groan.

The pressure of his phantom fingers crept beneath the sheer fabric, tracing their way up my ribs with calculated slowness. A burning breath on my neck warned me that he was watching my every move as my uncertain steps led me toward the central square.

As he pulled me toward a dark, barely concealed alley, he slammed me against a carriage entrance. The rough stone of the door crushed my shoulder blades as his invisible hands lifted my dress to my waist. A cry escaped me as his teeth sank into my shoulder, marking my flesh like a hungry beast. "Look," he growled, as an icy finger **** my head toward the alleyway entrance where shadowy figures stirred. "They only have to come closer to see what a slut you are." Lifting my red hair, he kissed me. My excitement mounted, especially since he was right about the risk of being caught in this indecent position.

His fingers slipped between my thighs, penetrating my intimacy. I was soaking wet.

- Yes, you get wet at the slightest touch. Open your mouth and taste it.

I obeyed. I felt invisible fingers thrust into my mouth, while others continued to stimulate my clitoris and vulva, I gasped, my tongue wrapped around his fingers as they tasted my own juices, the salty, musky mixture exploding on my taste buds. A muffled moan vibrated in my throat as his fingers pushed deeper, **** me just enough to bring tears to the corners of my eyes.

On the other side of the lifted dress, his phantom fingers worked my clitoris with cruel precision, quick little circles that made me arch against the carriage gate.

The cold stones of the door raked my lower back as a cruel finger thrust inside me, each stroke synchronized with those exploring my mouth. I choked on my own moans, the linen dress clinging to my sweat-drenched back.

My heart pounded in my temples as his fingers quickened, pinning me against the door with a brutality that made the rusty hinges creak. A trickle of saliva escaped my parted lips, mingling with the acrid taste of my pleasure on his invisible hand.

"Stand up straight," he murmured against the back of my neck, as his palm suddenly struck my clitoris in a series of light slaps. His hand over my mouth stifled my cries.

- Shut up, I'm invisible, but you'll look like the nymphomaniac you are.

The slaps on my clitoris made me flinch, each impact sending bursts of pain and pleasure that mingled until I could no longer distinguish one from the other. His fingers in my mouth suddenly froze, forcing me to greedily lick the taste of my own desire as a low laugh echoed against the back of my neck.

"Listen," he whispered, and then I heard the shuffling footsteps of an old man approaching the entrance to the alley.

He left me frustrated as the old man approached, greeting me.

- Keep going, I'll take you somewhere else. I want to see you frustrated and bewildered like the little female dog in heat you are.

The old man was barely limping two steps away from me, his glassy eyes scanning the shadows of the alley where I stood, trembling, my dress still hiked up around my hips. My master's invisible fingers lingered for a moment, pinching my nipples hard enough to make me stifle a cry behind my swollen lips.

- Go on, take a walk, you look beautiful like this, haggard and unfulfilled.

His words resonated like a delicious condemnation as I walked away from the alley, my legs trembling, my dress barely falling haphazardly over my still-damp thighs. Each step was ****—the linen rubbing against my sensitive sex made me shudder, my hardened nipples pressing against the fabric with cruel insistence.