An Heiress in Venice

by Tara Crescent

  “Open your eyes,” he said, and I obeyed. I took in the room I was in. It wasn’t large, and the space was dominated by a Y-shaped contraption that looked like some kind of perverted bed.

  Enzo grinned at me. “One of the benefits of playing at Casanova,” he said, “is that you get to take advantage of equipment that might otherwise not fit in an apartment.”

  I giggled, though the sound had more than a twinge of nervousness to it. He noticed, and his hand came out and held mine. “You have nothing to be afraid of,” he said.

  I nodded. I knew.

  He continued, though this time, his tone had an edge to it. “I’m going to be harder on you today, and I would like your obedience in this room, Alice,” he said.

  “Yes Sir,” I responded.

  “You have your safe words?” he prompted me. His hand waved in the direction of the ceiling, and I looked up, and noticed the camera I hadn’t seen last week. I stared into the red light as I answered his question.

  “Red to stop, Sir,” I said. “Yellow to slow things down.”

  “Good,” he said. “You ready to get started, gattina?”

  The look in his eyes was warm and reassuring; his tone was hard. This was exactly what I wanted. Someone that I could trust, but someone who would push me to the very edge of my limits.

  “Yes Sir,” I responded. I was so very ready to get started.

  “In that case, Alice,” he said. “I’d like you to get naked.”

  I gulped. The camera was still blinking in the corner, little blips of red light, and I was getting naked, though I had no idea who was on the other end of that blinking light. But this was Casanova, and the security crew were used to seeing naked women, women far, far more attractive than I was. I had nothing to feel self-conscious about. Right?

  “Alice, now.” The words were a snap, and they propelled me to action. I quickly unzipped my dress, stepping out of it carefully and draping it over a hook in the corner. I unhooked my bra, and Enzo took it from me silently, and held out his hands for my panties. I handed them to him.

  “Step in the middle of the room,” he ordered me, and I complied. He hadn’t been lying about being harder today. I felt like his sub, and he felt like my Dom. When he spoke, there was an expectation that his orders were going to be obeyed.

  And I was determined to obey, to fully submerge myself in submission. This was what I’d yearned to explore, and I wasn’t going to do it in half-measures. Tonight, even though I didn’t have a lot of experience, I was going to be the most obedient, most well-behaved submissive at Casanova. I wanted to do this for Enzo, but more than that, I wanted to do for myself, for the many years that I’d spent wishing for this exact sequence of events.

  His eyes swept over my body, and I shivered at the heat that shone openly from them. “Let’s get you on the table, Alice,” he said, helping me up. The surface was padded, and he positioned my knees on each of the arms of the Y, strapping them down swiftly and surely with leather straps, tightening the buckles till they were snug against my skin.

  “How’s your circulation?”

  “Good,” I smiled at him. “Nothing’s pinching.”

  He laughed. “Yet,” he replied. “Okay, let’s get your ankles restrained.” The same procedure was repeated on my ankles, and I swayed a little, unsteady. My legs were tied wide apart, and I could feel the air on my damp pussy.

  “Lean forward,” he ordered me, his hands steadying me and moving me forward so that my elbows rested on the table. He brought my forearms together and tied them to the beam. Straps at both my elbows and wrists prevented me from moving my hands at all. “Not too tight?” he asked again, and I shook my head. “No Sir,” I said quietly. As he tied me down, I sank deeper into submission. I wanted to please him tonight.

  “One more strap,” he said, buckling a leather belt around my waist and attaching it to a chain hanging from the ceiling. The binding kept me from slumping, and oddly, it was helpful in taking some strain off my elbows.

  He walked towards me with a ball gag.

  “You won’t be able to use your safe words, gagged,” he said. “Shake your head back and forth three times, and I’ll stop.” He made me perform the gesture to confirm that I understood. “Good,” he said, watching me shake my head back and forth frantically. He grinned at me. “Let’s get going.” I was about to open my mouth obediently around the gag, when a thought struck me.

  “Wait, is it even sanitary to use a gag at a sex club?” I asked him with a frown. “I’m not a germaphobe or anything, but ugh.”

  He laughed. “It’s new,” he reassured me. “The way it works is that you can either bring in your own toys, or buy them from the club.”

  “You don’t have any toys?” I asked him, and he grinned.

  “In my world, the toys belong to the submissive, gattina,” he said. “Now, open your mouth.” I complied, and his fingers brushed my hair back as he fastened the straps holding it in place.

  “This is where I make some joke about women who can’t talk, and what a relief that is,” he quipped, and I rolled my eyes. I’d have given him the middle finger, honestly, but I reminded myself that that wouldn’t be appropriately respectful.

  Then, realizing what he had done, I smiled inwardly in appreciation. He had eased the tension building up in me with a well-timed joke, and I had relaxed. Ah, Enzo. Nicely done.

  “Flogger,” he said, holding up the whip in front of me. He grinned, teasing. “Also new, dolcezza.” My gag prevented any smart-ass retorts, and I was inwardly thankful. I had some self-control, but his comment was ripe for a sarcastic rejoinder.

  He walked behind me, and I felt the tails of the flogger caress my ass. I shivered. My legs were spread wide open, my pussy and ass on display, and when the flogger came down, there would be nothing I could do about it.

  I could feel my nipples engorge at the idea of my imagined helplessness; I could feel myself drip.

  Whap. The flogger swung crisply at my ass and heat erupted on my skin. It was such an odd sensation. It felt like little pinpricks of warming fire. There was pain, but it was a pain I wanted to experience again.

  Smack. I got my wish, the flogger descended once more, targeting the other butt cheek this time.

  His hand soothed the sting away, tapping my ass lightly. “Up,” he ordered. “Don’t slump. Present yourself for me. Ass in the air.”

  I inclined my hips up, jutting my ass out lewdly. I could feel myself flush at I imagined how wanton I looked, tied down, sticking my ass out to be whipped.

  Two more strokes, and I whimpered into the gag. The strokes of the flogger felt so strange, yet so welcome. And when he stopped and pinched my ass, I just groaned. My skin felt hot and tender, and overly sensitive.

  I pushed my ass up towards him, and I tried to turn my head around to see what he was doing. He clicked his tongue in displeasure, and I stopped, and in response, he kneaded my tender cheeks, spreading them apart, letting the cool air hit my pussy.

  I couldn’t help my whimper. Please touch me, I thought. Please…

  My unvoiced plea was answered as I felt a finger probe my slit, and he pushed a finger into me. “Dripping wet,” he said, and I heard the satisfaction in his tone. “Do you like being flogged?” His fingers pinched my pussy lips, and he tugged at them. In response, I felt myself get even wetter.

  I moaned my agreement. I did like being flogged. Each time he swung the flogger, every pinprick of pleasure coalesced in my heavy, throbbing pussy.

  “Let’s add something to the mix,” he said, appearing at my side. He pinched and tugged at my nipples, getting them ready, then he clamped them with a pair of nipple clamps, connected together by a heavy chain.

  Oh. I exhaled as best as I could around the gag as I processed the sudden pain in my nipples. The tight grip of the clamps caused my breasts to throb and ache. But my body was responding the same way it did when the strands of the flogger caressed my skin. The pain blended into pleasure. Ah, this was s
o good.

  He walked back to my ass and kneaded the cheeks with his strong hands once more. “Ass high,” he ordered. “Stick it out.” His fingers were tugging once again at my inner lips, and I felt his tongue lick a path up my seam. “Such a tasty pussy,” he muttered. He licked it once again, then he growled and moved, coming back around towards my breasts.

  “How are the clamps?” he asked me, and I nodded my head at him, warbling an incoherent okay around the gag. He grinned. “Well, in that case, let’s stretch those limits.” He attached a weight to the chain connecting the clamps, and I hissed. The weight tugged my nipples, and as the chain swung, prickling sensation danced through my breasts, keeping the throbbing ache fresh.

  I shifted restlessly in my bindings, trying to squeeze my legs together, trying to relieve the ache in my pussy. But I was spread apart, too well-bound for that attempt to work.

  He watched me with amused eyes as I tried to make myself come. “On a different day, gattina, when I’m feeling less indulgent, you will get punished for that,” he told me. “Stop it.”

  I shot him a chagrined look, abashed at how easily he’d read me.

  The flogger resumed, scouring each inch of my ass with its flaming strokes. I whimpered; each stroke caused me to move forward in my bindings, and each move set the chain connecting my nipples swinging. Every bit of my body was being bathed in sensation.

  It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was perfect.

  “I think I want to hear you,” he said, removing the gag. “Does it hurt?” he asked, looking into my eyes.

  I nodded, swallowing. “Yes,” I said. It did hurt, but I wasn’t in pain. I was miles away from needing to use my safe word.

  “What do you say when I flog you?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. Starbursts of desire danced through me at his unrelenting tone. Yes. I needed his sternness, his dominance, his hard edge.

  “Thank you, Sir,” I whispered, knowing what he wanted to hear.

  He gave my ass a hard smack that echoed round the room. “Thank you Sir,” I breathed, as my pussy clenched in longing.

  He smiled. “Very nice, gattina,” he said.

  He moved away, and I felt his tongue on my slit once again. Very, very nice. I was tossed into a river of sensation, and I focused on breathing, trying not to give in. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be allowed to orgasm, not yet. I needed to stay back from the brink.

  “This is going to hurt,” he warned me, his voice muffled.

  What is? I thought, but before I could ask, his fingers reached out and removed the nipple clamps. Sharp momentary pain filled my body as the blood rushed back into my nipples. But his talented tongue distracted me by flicking at my clitoris, once, twice, three times.

  Pleasure and pain. Arousal and nervousness. I teetered at the edge, where everything was contrast, and right there, on that knife edge, I found something I’d been seeking for a very long time.

  His stubble grazed my skin. He bit my ass, sharp little bites that sent lust skittering on my skin, like drops of water dancing on a hot skillet.

  “You taste so good,” he rasped, “but I want more.” I heard the sound of a foil packet tearing, and I braced myself, my elbows digging down on the padded surface as he pushed his hard dick into me.

  “Ah,” I exhaled. His hands ran all over my ass as he pulled out and pushed back in with excruciating slowness. I tried to push myself back on him, but two hard stinging smacks on my inner thighs were my reward for that behavior. “You don’t control the pace, Alice.”

  “Yes Sir,” I whispered and once again surrendered.

  Each nerve ending in my pussy screamed with pleasure. Go faster, Enzo, I willed silently. Fuck me hard. But that wasn’t what was on his mind.

  He moved slowly, pushing deep in me on every stroke, and my moans filled the room. His hands were on my hips, he rocked me back and forth on his hard cock, and I just surrendered to the pleasure.

  He fucked me steadily for several minutes. He pumped hard for a while, then withdrew entirely, and pushed back slowly into me. He was varying the rhythm, keeping me on edge. Keeping my orgasm out of reach. It was delicious and it was frustrating and I was keenly reminded that I wasn’t in charge.

  Finally, he pulled out with a growl and smacked my ass. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and I did so. He discarded the condom and his erection nudged my cheek, and I took him into my mouth. He tasted of latex, just at the start, but I didn’t care. His cock in my mouth was a delicious treat.

  I wanted to give him the best blow job I knew how. This was the first time I’d been allowed to taste him, and I was oddly grateful. He’d pleasured me repeatedly, and I ached to repay the favour.

  I took most of his length in my mouth, swaying in my bindings as I did so. He wound his fingers through my hair, holding me, but not pushing me down on his cock. He didn’t need to – I was pushing down all on my own, taking as much of his cock as I could for as long as I could, before gasping for breath and continuing. My brain was in a fog of lust, and only awareness of Enzo remained.

  He pulled away, and his grip on my hair tightened. “So good,” he said. “What do you say?”

  “Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Sir,” I replied. My words weren’t pretence at all. I was genuinely grateful.

  Shockwaves of desire pulsed through my body. He moved back to my ass, his fingers caressing my heated flesh. “I think I want this pussy again, Alice,” he told me. A resounding smack on my ass cheek reminded me that I was slumping again. “Stick it out, he ordered. “High.”

  Another smack. “Higher,” he said, and I obeyed, practically thrusting my ass in his face. I heard another condom wrapper tearing, then I felt him position himself at my entrance.

  “You wanted to push back against me earlier, gattina?” he asked. “Do it now.”

  I rocked in my bindings, impaling myself on his hard cock over and over again. I was so close to my orgasm. I chased my pleasure as I ground on his dick. The frame was at a perfect height for fucking; he was hitting my g-spot with each stroke. Pleasure swirled in me, and I was intent on finding my release.

  A painful stroke of the flogger interrupted my rhythm. “Thank you Sir,” I whispered, and he repeated the stroke.

  “Whose pleasure matters here, Alice?” he asked, his voice hard.

  “Yours, Sir,” I replied, abashed, and felt his fingers on my clit as a reward.

  “What should you be thinking about?”

  Giving you pleasure, Sir,” I said. “I’m sorry, Sir.” I didn’t need to seek my own pleasure; I trusted Enzo to take care of me. I just needed to focus on him.

  I felt his lips on the small of my back. “You are so responsive, dolcezza,’ he said softly. His fingers caress my body. “So utterly perfect. You are giving me so much pleasure.”

  “Thank you Sir,” I muttered gratefully. His words of reassurance were exactly what I needed to hear.

  He resumed fucking me, and then I heard the whine of a vibrator. Oh dear. I felt it rumble against my folds, and I bit my lip. “Please Sir, can I come?” I begged, and he laughed.

  “Can you stop yourself?” he quipped. “Yes, Alice. This isn’t a test designed to make you fail. You can come anytime you want.”

  I didn’t last long against the vibrator, not with Enzo’s hard cock raking my passage as he pounded into me. I came once; I came again. My entire body was trembling, but he kept the vibrator pressed against me, and I came, screaming, for the third time. “Yellow,” I shouted after that climax, as my skin rebelled against the vibrator. He instantly stopped and pulled out of my pussy.

  “I don’t want to stop,” I assured him as he came to look at me, and he gave me his typical ghost of a smile. “We aren’t stopping, Alice,” he replied. He discarded the second condom.

  “Open your mouth,” he ordered. “I want to come down your throat.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” I whispered. Yes. I wanted to feel his cock spasm in my mouth. I wanted to give him his climax, the
same way he’d given me mine.

  When his cock jerked in my mouth, I swallowed every drop. Then I looked at him in utter contentment. “Thank you Sir,” I said once more.

  Chapter 13

  Enzo:

  This time, she didn’t run. Once her bindings were undone, she stayed nestled in my arms and I held her and stroked her body. She was quiet for the longest time, then she stretched like a sleepy cat. “That was nice,” she said, blushing.

  “Nice? Nice? I think I’m offended,” I teased her.

  She blushed harder, and I chuckled and kissed her neck. I was used to providing after-care, and was accustomed to the greater feeling of intimacy that resulted after a session. But this was something else. This felt like togetherness.

  I hadn’t felt this way for a very, very long time. And finally, after so many years, I was ready to allow myself to feel this connection with a woman. This woman, who nestled like a tired, contented kitten in my arms.

  “Enzo,” she muttered in my chest. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course, gattina.”

  “How come you play at Casanova?” She sounded a little hesitant as she continued. “Is it because of the variety?”

  “The variety of what?” I asked, before realizing what she meant. “No, Alice, I don’t need, nor do I want a stable of women.” I sighed. “It’s an old story,” I said.

  She met my gaze. “I’d like to hear it,” she said. “Sir,” she added.

  I laughed. “No Sir, please. That’s just for sex. Enzo will do just fine.” My arms tightened around her, and she moaned a little in appreciation, and nuzzled my neck.

  “You already know I grew up in an orphanage,” I said. “Hellish place. When I was fifteen, I got lucky. A family came forward to foster me.” I shifted and swallowed. “I loved my foster parents, and they loved me. And then, when I was eighteen, their niece Maria came to live with them.”

  She moved a little in my arms, and I forced myself to ease my grip on her. “It was about that time that I was discovering that I liked my sex on the kinky side. And Maria was attracted to me, and I to her, and we played together. Spanking, flogging, that kind of thing.”