The Lady Submits (5 page)

More laughter,
this time
some of it
proud. More hands, caressing her buttocks, still a little sore from the beating
that Master
Fortrezza
had administered. Lucrezia felt
somehow far away, in a place where she was trying to make room for the thing
inside her, and slowly, as she became accustomed to it, she realized there was
still the pounding, driving hunger, the pulsing need, deep in her pussy. It had
only become worse.

She nearly cried in frustration, and arched for him again.
“Please,” she begged again, knowing it would fall on deaf ears.

“See how ready she is?” she heard Master
Fortrezza
say, and the servant’s dull feet walked past her, towards her exposed shame.
“See for yourself, boy.”

Tentative fingers probed her folds, felt her wetness. She
could hear the servant boy breathing, nearly panting over her. Her shame…there
was no way to describe it. And it only made her gush more for him.

“That’s enough,” Master
Fortrezza
said brusquely, apparently regretting his generous gesture, and pushed the hand
away. It was amazing how she could already distinguish the feel of his touch.
He settled his own hand on the nub of the thing he kept inside of her, and
rolled it gently. She groaned as it pressed against those new, virgin nerves,
and reminded her what “full” could feel like.

“If you want satisfaction,” he said, his voice carrying
across the courtyard, “you will tell all assembled here what you truly are.”

“Yours!” she tore the word from her throat, rasping with effort,
and had never meant anything more in her life.

“What are you?”

“Your slave…”

“And what will you be tomorrow?”

At this she stumbled, her mind throwing up one last
obstacle, one last objection. This had always been a temporary indulgence, a
holiday,
an
experiment. And yet her body crowed with
recognition, even as her mind reeled from yet another uncomfortable truth.

He threw an arm under her chest, the palm of his other huge
hand still pressing the bulb of the intruding thing while his fingers cupped
her sex, and tilted her whole body up. Then he dipped down to whisper in her
ear.

“If you do not confess it, Lucrezia, I shall call you by
your name.”

Those words, this promise, destroyed the last remaining
barrier, and Lucrezia felt herself suddenly freer than she’d ever been before,
even as the exalted lady she was.

“Yours,” she practically sang, “tomorrow I will still be
yours.”

She did not even know his true
name
, and yet she meant every word. Even if she never saw him
again, she knew she would always belong to this man who had shown her a new
part of herself.

She felt him bend over her, felt his lips upon her neck, and
then quite suddenly he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder as he
stood from his chair. She spun wildly, her breasts bouncing on his back, unable
to steady herself with her hands still bound behind her. She should have been
frightened, but was merely thrilled at the feel of his arm around her, and at
the idea of the view she presented to the still-attentive crowd.
 
Suddenly he turned, and she was faced
with the full attention of that crowd.

She gasped. So many.
Some that she
recognized.

“Is it ready?” She heard her Master say. Earlier in the
evening this might have filled Lucrezia with apprehension, but now her vision
was blurred, her thinking dulled, and all other concerns paled in comparison to
the dire needs of her body.

She wriggled against him. He playfully slapped her exposed
sex, and then strode off in some new direction, bouncing her on his back as he
went.

Lucrezia was capable of thinking only one word:
finally
.

~
 
~
 
~

He had taken her to one of the private rooms off the
courtyard. Well, perhaps he had taken her even farther than that;
Lucrezia’s
memory was so vague. It had been dark, like the
catacomb tunnels under the city, lit only by an occasional lantern. And there
had been stairs, she was certain of that. She had enjoyed the bounce of every
step, the jiggle of her breasts, the jostling of the thing inside her, all of
it as a reminder of her helplessness in Master
Fortrezza’s
arms.

She actually thought she might giggle. She had not had any amberwine
in hours, but she felt drunk.

They had finally come to a stop in a barely lit chamber,
flickering with candlelight. He had set her down quite gently, and told her not
to move. Lucrezia was certain she could find a way to fly if that was the key
to winning her satisfaction, but she quietly did as she was told, staring
straight ahead at a rough
stone wall
that danced with
shadows.

He had busily been doing something behind her. Now,
apparently, he was done. She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck as he
slowly unbound her hands. When they were free he placed them firmly at her
sides, and she was amazed to find she understood exactly what he meant: keep them
there.

She had never felt so…known. Understood. So close to a man whose
face she had not yet seen.

But he knows your face
,
she reminded herself. The memory of her own name, spoken aloud, even in hushed
tones, pierced her haze of pleasure and anticipation, and she started with
alarm.

“How did you —
”

She didn’t even finish her thought before she felt his teeth
on the back of her neck. His hand shoved between her legs and gripped her,
hard. She went immediately limp, like an animal. It was a purely physical
reflex, and one that she hadn’t known she possessed.

Finally, he let go of her neck, but not her sex. His arm
ground against the heel of the thing he made her keep in her anus, and she whimpered
with distracted pleasure.

“You speak when spoken to in here,” he said in her ear. “Do
not think you are done.”

And with that he turned her around and drove her forward,
towards an enormous metal ring in the center of the room. Lucrezia had barely a
moment to take it in:
it was attached by hinges to two metal
bars
; there were restraints; there were chains. Then he spun her around
and pushed her back, under the arch of the ring, and realization began to dawn.

She opened her mouth, and then remembered:
do not speak unless spoken to.

He raised one of her hands high and secured it in a
restraint, then secured the other. Her breasts heaved as her breathing
quickened.

Except for my
safeword
, she thought.
Surely he meant except for my
safeword
.

He fastened restraints to her ankles, and tested the length
of the chains.

She bit her lip. He gathered the chains attached to her
ankles and began to pull. They rattled as they passed through the attachments
on either side of the ring.

“You will spread your legs,” he said. And she did, until she
was spread as far as she could go. Her muscles clenched against the intrusion
still inside her, and another kind of pleasure-pain swept through her as she
strained against herself.

He stepped close to her now, so close her breasts
practically brushed his ridged abdomen when she breathed. His own skin was
slick with sweat and heat, his massive erection still protruding, ignored with
some force of will she would never
understand.
He
stroked the length of her body in a gentle, lulling rhythm. “You will answer my
questions, Lucrezia, and you will tell the truth, or it will go very hard for
you.”

He trailed his fingers up the length of her belly, watching
it roil in his wake, up over her fluttering chest and neck to her covered face
and wet lips. She tried to take his finger in her mouth, but he shook his head.

“Lucrezia. If you do not answer me honestly, you will never
have your satisfaction. Do you understand?”

She wanted to wail in frustration. No, she did not
understand; it had become quite obvious that she did not understand the least
bit about what had happened this night, or what it meant, or who she really
was. But she nodded. She could tell the truth. She had to.

“Yes,” she said. And then he walked away.

She shook her stretched arms and rattled the chains that
held them, but he only chuckled as he moved somewhere behind her.

He didn’t speak, preferring to let her mind race as he
attended to his preparations. It was a long, tortured time before she thought
she heard him approach, and still, he didn’t speak.

Instead he ran the length of something leather along her
back. She exhaled, and was surprised to discover she’d been holding her breath.
She held it again when he came around to show her what he’d touched her with.

It was a flogger. The leather tails were thick, and they had
felt soft on her back, but it was still a flogger. Involuntarily she clenched,
and was reminded of the thing he’d put inside her. She was quickly spiraling
higher, into a dizzy space where she could hardly think.

“Lucrezia,” he said, “you said that you are mine. Are you
really free to give yourself to me?”

“What?” She didn’t understand.

Quick as lightning the flogger swung out, and expertly struck
her breast. The weight of the tails thudded against her soft flesh, and the
impact rippled outward from her stinging nipple to the edges of her body,
pulling her back into the moment. She moaned as she tried to remember words.

“I said,” he growled, “are you really free to give yourself
to me?”

The flogger came down on her other breast.

“I am yours!”

“There is no one else?”

He walked around her, stalking her like a predator on the
hunt. His voice had gotten low, his breathing steady, his muscles coiled tight
under his skin. She thought of his teeth on the back of her neck, keeping her
docile, and her pussy began to throb.

“Only yours,” she panted, and screamed with pleasure and
only a little pain when the flogger connected with her ripe buttocks. “Please…”

Suddenly she felt him close behind her. His hand caressed
her stinging buttock, and found the nub of the plug he’d put inside her. He
pressed on it, rolling it under his palm, moving it inside of her, and dragged
the tails of the flogger up the length of her leg.

“Who were you thinking of when you came here tonight?” he
hissed in her ear.

She did not answer. She could not. Immediately the image of
Carlo Castellan, holding her wrist tight, looking down at her exposed arousal,
had flooded into her mind, and she’d flinched. She could
not
name him. It could not be
… .

The flogger fell to the ground with a dull thud. He walked
around her front, letting his hand trail over her hip, down the crease of her
joint, back to the wet hunger between her legs. His fingers slipped once more
between her folds, seeking out the most sensitive part of her. He rubbed it
softly, and studied her face.

“I asked you a question, Lady Lucrezia,” he said softly. And
then he tore away her mask.

She felt herself near tears. She had never spent so long
hovering in a plateau of pleasure, and she honestly believed that her body
could not take much more before it all turned, fermenting into a wretched sort
of pain. She had already faced so much, she had already come to terms with so
many new things, so many things about herself that she never would have
believed to be true, and yet it was not enough.

He wanted more.

“Please,” she begged, and offered her hips to him. His hand
fell motionless, and she groaned. He was merciless.

“Tell me his name.”

His head bent down close to hers, and then she felt his lips
on her neck, kissing her, sucking lightly, while he kept the barest contact
with her sex.

“Sir…”

“I will hear his
name
,”
he said, and pressed his smooth mask into her chest as he took a nipple in his
mouth. His fingers swirled ever farther from her center, and the loss had
become too much to bear.

“Castellan!” she shouted, and hung her head low. “It was
Carlo Castellan…”

He pushed two fingers deep into her, curling them around
inside her, pressing her thin flesh against the plug he had put in her anus.
She bucked against him as much as she could, wanting to take him in further,
wanting any part of him to be fully inside her, and then he rose to look at her
face and took of his mask.

It
was
Carlo
Castellan.

“Oh Gods…” she heard herself moan, but she was fully in his
power, restrained and more desperate for his touch than she’d been for anything
ever before in her life.

“You
are
mine,
Lucrezia,” he whispered as he tormented her with his fingers. “I knew you for
what you are, even when you did not. You are mine, as I am yours, and you will
be mine tomorrow, and you will never again have another man in your bed.”

She nodded dumbly, thinking only of his cock, knowing the
truth of it: she was his, and would do anything he wanted, if only he would
fuck her.

“Please,” she said again, and looked down at his massive,
swollen
cock. “Please…”

 
He smiled,
almost grimly, and walked behind her once more. She cried out, this time in
rage and frustration, as he took his hand away; she realized she was actually
crying, even as she felt the heat of his body on her backside once more.

She felt his large hands spreading her buttocks, and his hot
breath on her neck. Again, she rattled her restraints in frustration.

“Who is your Master, Lucrezia?” he said into her ear. “I will
hear you say my name, and I will hear you pledge your service to me, or you
will never know the feel of
this
.”
And he rubbed the hard length of himself along her soaking wet slit.