“To your new master,” he replied.
“Ah, at last.” There was just a trickle of desire surging in her belly though it was far from the great bodily roar she’d once known.
On entering the most homey of the castle’s barren rooms, she was warmed by the sight and feel of a roaring fire, which quickly took away the drafty chill that was settling in her bones. She noted a master’s upholstered, gilded chair, a finely carved table laid with a full meal, and a second table with several implements of sexual ravishment ready to be used.
One of the men beside her reached for a blindfold from that table, and turning her around, placed it over her eyes and tied it tightly in place.
“Have you been blindfolded before?” he asked.
“Only a few times, sir.”
“Your master finds that it stimulates sexual desire,” he informed her.
Charlotte wished she could disagree, but she found her body instantly replying to this simple contrivance, her cunt quickly seeking the sensation that had been denied her for some time. And yet, she was afraid to let the feelings build—afraid that, as with Mountbane in recent months, she’d be taken to the pinnacle of her lust only to have her finish ripped away.
Those attending her began to remove her clothes… an act that seemed much easier to endure with her eyes closed. Perhaps this restraint was a fortuitous sign. Perhaps if this master was a loathsome creature with misshapen features and a grotesque figure she could still enjoy the fire of her body without the repulsion of her mind. After her recent travail she held little hope that Sir Guy would be a handsome man—gossip implied he was a gnarled old gent with a fascination for using women and throwing them away. What kind of fate could that be for a romantic woman? Or even a well-schooled slave?
She heard some commotion across the room and waited anxiously as her attendants stepped away leaving her without the advantage of sight or their solid bodies to lean on.
Across the room, the master of this tiny fortress slipped silently into the room and took his seat with the Lady Charlotte before him. He wished to appraise what he had purchased with so much effort. He smiled. She was a glorious woman. Her long golden hair floated about her face, while a pair of full and pink-blushed lips parted sensuously, as though they were ready now to kiss his swelling organ. Did she realize how much vitality flowed through her comely shape?
And still, there were many more attributes for him to see. Wishing to proceed, he waved for his men to complete her disrobing. He would inspect her as he would any slave to see if she was as fit in body as was her flawless countenance.
His two fellows finished pulling Charlotte’s dress away; then brusquely tore at her underclothes, loosening ties and discarding the garments like so much rubbish.
The revelation was most astounding to the eye of any man who would gaze on the beauty. Did he deserve this much? he wondered. Her body was a lustrous hue of naked brilliance—fair, with just a trace of pink beneath her skin. Even with the blindfold on, her face looked flushed as though she was embarrassed, as if she understood how carefully he inspected her—even at six paces off.
He knew her recent past, knew she would be raw with need. What a miserable fate for any woman so full of fire and spirit to be denied what she did best. Ah! He would relish breaking her body in to its natural function once again.
The polished chastity belt still fixed about her groin held his fascination—he imagined vividly the treasure underneath. Perhaps he was just an addled fool, but he believed he could see her inner fires exuding from those private places locked between her thighs.
“The key?” he asked his man.
Mountbane’s packet with the key inside was delivered into the master’s hands.
“Take care to see that the device is thrown away,” he ordered with a whisper to his man.
From behind the confining belt, the slave’s groin appeared even more fired with pent-up sexual need. As she breathed, her body writhed in near imperceptible increments, just slightly with a most pleasant sway.
“Are you unsteady,” the master asked her in a deliberately gruff voice.
“No, sir,” she trembled at this first exchange of words.
Rising from his chair, he came to greet her, laying a kiss on her lips.
From the inside of her mind, Charlotte endured the close inspection of her body. Thankfully, Sir Guy’s hands were gentle. Rather than prod and poke, the feel was more of an ardent caress. He ran his palms over her breasts and tenderly tweaked her nipples.
Ah! How his fingertips did glide over the perspiring surface of her skin! Her mouth parted more wantingly as though there were hunger and thirst issuing from her wet lips. Her head fell back slightly, hair dangling like feathers around her as he slipped his one finger inside her mouth and without thinking, she ran her tongue around the small penetration.
His other hand was at her crotch, another finger pressing its advantage deep into the unpenetrated folds where her yearning pussy moistened quickly, now ready for some righteous cock to screw her.
“Ah, milord,” she sighed from her deep anguish.
“Your fires have not died,” he whispered softly. Even his breath upon her ear had spasming results as the intent of his passion seem to leap from his tender words and fly down to her aching pussy. He massaged her still, about her crotch and breasts, bringing her need to that potent crest where nothing would deny the result.
“Cum…” he whispered with a hum in his voice. Her swaying body fell against his chest and the hand that so expertly fondled her spewing snatch. Charlotte’s body bloomed with orgasmic swells, another and another still, as her lips emitted gasping mews. As though she wouldn’t stop for hours, she expelled the first climax in tentative jolts—these much calmer than the ones that would shortly follow.
Pulling her with him, the master and his new prize property collapsed to a lounging bed at the side of the room and began to have sex in earnest. On his instructions, his aide tied Charlotte’s hands above her head. Then, as the nobleman’s cock was turgidly engorged and ready, he raised the slave’s legs over his shoulders and plunged his organ into her throbbing home.
“Ah! milord, yessssssss……………” She answered gratefully.
It was such a wounded and delicate cry, as though she were afraid of this powerful passion; as though it might suddenly disappear and she would be left with an empty portal and no hope. She clutched at him with her inner muscles exploiting every thrust as each one massaged her deprived channel. The master raised himself above her so he could look at the expression on her lips and see the way her breasts bounced with glee, and her whole torso shook with the reverberating thunder of being free inside this desperate captivity.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh………….” She cried with her continued pleasure while the surges came from deep within, drawing on a thousand places in her body where the energy of sexual joining had been arrested and imprisoned. She came again, and then with such waves and violent thrashing movements it could not be told how many times her body climaxed. The master’s once fresh erection could not hold out forever, and finally being so battered that it was becoming painful, he gave up his energies and exploded, delivering his seed into Charlotte’s womb where it swam inside her gentle tremors. Her body flamed very softly now as the second wave of orgasmic release finally came to an end.
As the master withdrew, he sat beside her bound body and gently caressed her face. He ran his fingers over the blindfold wondering how she’d feel when she finally gazed in his eyes. He wanted to show himself, but as he’d planned, he put off the desire to divulge the truth. Not yet. They both needed to wait until her body was free of the place where she’d been prisoner last. He wanted her to look on him with fresh, unwounded eyes.
Each time he touched her, her body jolted again. She needed more, but not now. Now, she needed sleep.
d
The Lord of Baudaire kept Lady Charlotte blindfolded for several days. There was much sex between them; and several tim
es, he enlisted the services of his aides to do their duty in her cunt or ass while he took the opposite position. On a few occasions she was penetrated by three at once with a third erection in her eagerly responding mouth.
For Charlotte these days of fornication were spent in mindless physical release. She had no idea that her body could go on with such fervor. She’d thought that much of her passion had been lost. But it seemed, instead, she had not lost one spasm of ecstasy to Mountbane’s evil punishment. They were simply waiting for this wondrous interlude of release. After each experience of her reborn lust, she was too exhausted to think of anything but sex and sleep.
On her fourth day at the fortress, Charlotte’s zeal for the erotic began to wane, and her empty mind filled itself with thought—real thought—like the face of this master, and the look of his body, and the temperament, and voice that resided in him. Although the regular binding of her hands prevented her from touching him to explore his shape, she knew that he was not some grotesque monster. She could tell by the way his hands worked, and the feel of his flesh a good deal about his size.
On the fifth day, Charlotte entered the chamber they’d been using for sex—at least she assumed it was that room. Still blindfolded, she might well be anywhere in the fortress, but the space around her had a comforting feel as though she’d left her imprint in the air.
“Pose for surrender, slave, on your knees.” The voice of Sir Guy’s attendant suddenly splintered the calm, and Charlotte’s instincts worked to save her. She dropped abruptly to the floor.
Though she wasn’t apprised of the requirements of this master, she assumed that the standard slave posture she learned in Caius’ dungeon should please the man. She pressed her cheek to the cool floor as firmly as she could, while she splayed her privates with the lewd pose. Instants later, she felt the vileness of a thin cane poking at her body. As the tip pressed into her anus, she jerked, emitting a small shriek of pain.
“Surrender……..” she heard the whispered voice of her master come to her like a haunting breeze. “Surrender……….”
The feeling poured through her, bringing on waves of desire—these coming from a darker vision from a darker sexual world. Pictures of Caius, Mountbane and Tristan—yes, her dear Tristan—and even Gwnyth appeared in a montage of images in her brain. Hands, fists, whips, chains and bondage appeared thereafter. The pulse came deep, resonating throughout her body until the master circling above her could see for himself how aroused she’d become from just this meek suggestion.
He ran the cane along the crack of her behind so viciously, she thought he might tear the delicate skin. She gasped with pain. “Turn over!” he ordered. Charlotte complied again unthinkingly, moving into the slave posture most memorable in her mind. Knees bent, her feet to her ass, she raised her hips to float upon the air.
If she could only see this master’s face. Would he show approval in his expression? How she yearned for just one glimpse, and yet, how she feared that her first look at him would only reveal a face she could not love.
Again, he circled her. She could hear his feet shuffling along the floor and sensed a crop of leather graze her skin with the feel of silk. Her body trembled now, as her arousal rose to the same blazing furnace of heat that had burned within her the last four days. Her mind screamed, “Beat me, lord, lay your passions on me with zeal,” while her voice remained silent. He teased and toyed so that everything in her clenched. Would he deny her now? Had he brought her to the grandest ecstasy only to reject her lust and let her live without, just as her husband had forced her to?
This was a worse affliction. The intensity built in an instant—with just the hint of something sweetly cruel welting her skin.
He struck three times: once each to her inner thighs where the pain burned so savagely that she almost collapsed; then a third time across her exposed labia. The sensation rippled on, making her body writhe as though she wanted more. He offered her only the very ends of his implement to play with. She struggled with the urgency of her flesh, reaching with her cunt in her blind state for another strike of his crop. Frustration made her cry out hungrily.
“Please, master, do not leave me like this to burn…………”
For a time, he seemed content to do just that. Strolling about her, a few softer blows landed, but they did not satisfy her suffering. When he finally backed away, she was certain that he was rejecting her. She wanted to beg again. But keeping her tongue, she waited, relieved at last to feel the guiding hands of two men lifting her to her feet. Her physical ache subsided but not the desire.
Walked several yards from her present position, Charlotte found herself strapped to an “X” frame, feet and arms stretched wide and cuffed in thick leather-lined irons. Her imagination stirred, urging the scene forward, seeing, hearing, even smelling the aroma of whips and the wood that would flog her into bliss. Her mind focused on the picture, completely sure of the results; and then, to her utter amazement, Charlotte suddenly felt the apparatus move with her body circling to the side. As the picture cleared in her mind, she realized that she was being inverted, the “X” frame turned upside-down. Blood rushed to her head and her heart began to beat with an anxious rhythm.
In this position, Charlotte’s naked pussy seemed the center of this tiny theatre. Clamps pinched her labia in six places. Three on either side. Then a probe was driven into her anus, nestling deeply in the channel. She couldn’t help but whimper as her body squirmed to accommodate the invasion. As the immediate pain subsided, her body began to relax into each new element of torture. Her desire soared.
Seeing the slave’s response, the master pulled the labia clamps wider still, so that her empty cleft could be filled. Then with several fingers at the doorway, he pushed them as far as her body would physically allow. If it weren’t for the clamps, he might just fit his entire hand.
Baudaire stopped short of a full fisting. The author of this scene seemed more intent to bring Charlotte off to the dull and aching pain resident in her body. Each second the clamps seemed to bite more, but each second Sir Guy shoved his fingers and withdrew them like a cock. Yes, she would cum soon. The tension increased and her body wanted more.
The slave began to pant, to writhe in an erratic ecstasy as the master worked his fingers in her hole and the probe inside her ass. The agony was unbearable, but stopping now would be worse. Dislodged from brain and reason, responding to sensation alone, Charlotte finally came. Like a sole sharp clap of thunder, the climax in her body burst; and in one long ride, she spasmed hard.
Then, as each clamp was loosened, the probe removed, and the master’s hand withdrew, the orgasm swept on until finally, at last, she could breathe at ease again.
Charlotte was unaware of her surroundings until she discovered that her body was being turned upright again. The relief felt like another wave of climax. Exhausted, she was removed from the ‘X’ device and carried to a bed where she fell asleep. There were few thoughts in her mind except the feeling of perfect surrender. Perhaps she should remain blind forever and live her life inside the beauty of her empty thoughts.
d
When Charlotte finally awakened, the droopy slave took some moments to discover that her blindfold had been removed. Still, she kept her eyes closed, afraid to open them. But her body stirred, which stirred the napping Sir Guy from his musing slumber.
Opening his eyes, he saw that Charlotte’s eyes were still closed. “Look at me now, Lady Charlotte. I know you’re awake.”
She trembled with fear, but obliged him—her curiosity was now too piqued to put off the truth. And though it took some seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light, it took less time for Charlotte to recognize the man sitting in the nobleman’s chair.
“Tristan?”
“Yes, my love.”
“You?”
“Of course. Who did you think would love you so, a stranger?”
“But Sir Guy?”
“Is me,” he said simply.
This wa
s too much for her to understand in the middle of this surprising moment. She lay back on the lounge not knowing whether to be angry, frightened or relieved.
Moving from the chair, her lover came to her with the same abidingly dark countenance she’d grown to love. Sitting beside her, he turned her chin with his hand so she had to look him in the eye.
“Are you real?” she asked.
“I am.”
Her puzzlement still didn’t end. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Think good thoughts, Charlotte. You have your life back. And a life with me.”
“I do,” she thought aloud, though her voice was still vague. “But, Sir Guy is you?”
He sighed himself. “I’m not exactly the master that Mountbane sold you to. That man is dead. He is my father, which makes me Sir Tristan, Lord of Baudaire.”
“You’re not jesting?”
“I am completely truthful, milady. I came to Ilusia first some years ago, to scout the country for my father. It seemed that the Lord Mountbane had his eyes on my cousin.”
“But how would he know your cousin?”
“The world is small enough so that tales of beautiful women ride far beyond their home. In a short time, I worked my way into Mountbane’s court. He believed I was a nobleman from one of the Southern provinces and I never corrected his err. We became fast friends when I saved his life on a hunting trip. From that moment on, he took me into his confidence. Though I knew of his dark nature—which was not unlike mine—I thought his regard for my cousin was sincere and he would never harm her. I was wrong. My judgment failed me. From the moment she died, my guilt exploded into revenge. And that revenge brought me to you.” It seemed his eyes were filled with tears. “You have softened me, dear lady, and raised my lust to degrees beyond what I imagined for myself. I have you now, and will not let go.”
Ah! What words! What tenderness and what passion! She never believed that her heart could burn with love as dearly as her loins burned for sex.
The Surrender of Lady Charlotte Page 17