Artistic Licence

by Vivienne Lafay

  Of course Carla was jealous, but she was also optimistic. He loved to make love, that much was obvious, and if one day she revealed her true nature and feelings to him then they might enjoy their love-making all the more because they were both experienced. How wonderful it would be to have the crude act that she had repeated with Piero transformed into an act of love! How much more meaningful would even a simple kiss be when it was performed with sincere love!

  Despite her racing brain and restless body, exhaustion battled with Carla’s need to think and feel and eventually sleep won. In the morning she awoke with a sore head, like almost everyone else in the house, and her first thought was of Marco. Had he left already? She knew he was planning to go first thing in the morning because, as he said, he hated prolonged farewells. Creeping from her bed she dressed hastily and went down the creaking stairs to see if anyone was about.

  The kitchen was empty, but as she raked the sullen embers she heard someone come into the room behind her. Sure that it must be Marco, she turned with a welcoming smile that froze on her face when she encountered the dour face of Giovanni. He was unshaven and his night-shirt was open to the waist, showing the thick mat of dark hair on his chest. Despite his obvious weariness, his eyes looked at her with a cunning expression and his mouth was curved into a sardonic grin. ‘Up early then, little trickster? What mischief are you about now, sirrah – or should I say, madonna?’

  Carla stared at him in consternation. Was he simply mocking her portrayal as the Virgin, or had he – horror of horrors! – somehow discovered her secret?

  She decided to assume he meant the former. ‘It was not my idea to sit for the Holy Mother. I would not have presumed so far.’

  Giovanni’s smile widened, striking terror into her. ‘Oh I think you have presumed very far, very far indeed! You presumed that we would not notice the lack of hair upon your cheek or the fact that you had too much up top and not enough down below. You presumed we would take you for a shy young lad, who is scared of girls. Shame on you for your presumption!’

  He knew! God preserve her, she was in deep trouble now! The smug look on his saturnine face told her that he would take full advantage of his new-found power over her, and she dreaded what might follow.

  ‘H – how did you find out?’ she stammered.

  He came close to her, putting his hand on the wall beside her head so that he leant over her, emphasising his superior height. Carla shrank back, terrified, as his voice became low, almost seductive. ‘Last night I saw something in the way Piero treated you. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed it. I’ve had my suspicions for some time so I was determined to test them once and for all. It wasn’t difficult. Piero was so drunk he forgot to lock the door.’

  ‘You saw – that!’

  Carla’s voice was weak with dismay as she realised that her coupling with the master had been witnessed. Giovanni gave a sardonic nod. ‘Yes, my little whore, I saw everything! You didn’t seem to be enjoying it much, I must say. What were you thinking about as you lay there with dreamy eyes? Perhaps there is someone else under this roof that you would prefer to fuck – that’s it, isn’t it?’

  For a moment she was afraid he knew about her feelings for Marco, but she shook her head, trembling all over. To her surprise, his expression softened a little and he stroked her hair with a smile that was almost friendly. ‘It’s all right, little one, I know you fancy me something rotten. That’s why you’re always pretending to hate me. But I can tell you’ve really got the hots for me, it’s written all over your face.’

  Carla was dumbfounded. Part of her was relieved that he had guessed wrongly, but another part of her realised that she would be in even worse trouble if she denied it.

  ‘Don’t be scared,’ Giovanni whispered, his face very near hers. ‘I’ll be a far better lover to you than him upstairs, you’ll see. We’ll keep it a secret, of course, but then you’re very good at that, aren’t you? I’m the only one who guessed the truth out of all of us, but then you know what they say: the truth will out!’

  His mouth came down full on hers, depriving her of words and breath in one long, rapacious kiss that left her senses reeling. She had not experienced such strong passion before. He was kissing her with a crushing fierceness that verged on the cruel, making any opposition impossible and it was obvious that there was no use trying to resist. She might as well play along with him.

  At last he broke away abruptly and began to pull her across the room. ‘Come on, we can’t stay here or we’ll be discovered. I know just the place for us.’

  Then Carla knew he meant to sate his lust right away and a pang of despair went through her. Would she ever be free of the marauding instincts of men? Now she was in two men’s power, and the one man who might protect her was no longer around. The impact upon her was devastating. As she staggered from the kitchen her knees felt weak and her head spun.

  He took her down to the cellar which was used as a storeroom. It was damp and smelly, the abode of rats and stray cats. As they descended into darkness there was a horrid scurrying of warm, furry bodies accompanied by squeaks and hisses. Carla shuddered and felt bile rise in her throat. What kind of place was that to make love in?

  You cannot call it love, she reminded herself bitterly. This would be an animal coupling, a bestial act of intercourse, no more, and for that it was as good a place as any. Giovanni lit the candle he’d picked up in passing, then lit the two sconces on the wall in turn. The place was filled with barrels and bundles, some containing artists’ materials, others household goods. Some of the stuff was covered in cobwebs, giving it a dismal air.

  ‘I’m sorry, this is not very congenial surroundings for an amorous encounter.’ Giovanni’s grin was ironic. ‘But it’s the best I can do at short notice.’

  Carla braced herself, expecting him to fall upon her like a rabid beast, but he did no such thing. Throwing down some sacking to form a makeshift bed, he pulled her down on to it and gently proceeded to remove her clothes until her small breasts and downy vee were exposed. His smile widened as he brushed his hand lightly across her pubic mound.

  ‘To think all this was hidden beneath your dowdy men’s clothes. You should be clad in silk, satin and velvet my dear, to show off your exquisite form.’

  This was not at all what Carla had expected and she was nonplussed. The cruel Giovanni, whose looks and curses had held her terror for so long, was now behaving quite out of character. Yet she had a horrid suspicion that it could not last. His hand went towards his own body and he parted the folds and openings of his clothes with deft fingers until he produced his own naked member, which sprang forth in a lively fashion making her gasp with surprise.

  The penis which he possessed was the largest and thickest she had ever seen. It was impossible to imagine it entering her without wincing at the thought. He noted her shock with pleasure, stroking his cock as if it were a pet animal.

  ‘Many girls have been astonished by the size of my organ. Some have fallen over themselves to pay homage to it in most delightful ways and you, I’m sure, will be no exception. There is no need to be coy. I know you have serviced the feeble member of Piero our master, now you may pay lip service to my superior tool. Come, I have waited long enough. Put your delicious young lips to the task, and get that tongue working, too.’

  He pushed her head towards his rearing erection but it was all she could do to stretch her lips around the glans. The bulbous organ tasted salty and strong, making her gag, but she persevered, afraid of the consequences if she refused. Her tongue became very active, making up for not being able to get much of the rigid flesh into her mouth, and she worked it up and down the shaft rapidly, attempting to cover as much of it as she could in as short a time.

  For a while this seemed to satisfy him. He gave a series of contented grunts and stroked Carla’s hair from time to time, which gratified her and soothed her fear. If this is all he wants from me I can bear it, she thought, willing him to come quickly. But he was evidentl
y used to holding out, and no matter how expertly she tongued him he resisted the urge to ejaculate.

  ‘Enough!’ he said at last, lifting her head away from his genitals. She stared straight into his black eyes and found his expression inscrutable. ‘Now my dear, I want you to straddle me and let me play with your pussy. Little puss has to be as wet and slippery as possible if she’s to let big brother rat come in to play!’

  Carla was terrified. That huge prong looked as if it would split her in two, but she could see no way out now. She still feared Giovanni, despite his sweet words and docile manner. He was like a big wild animal, pleasant and easy-going until his path was crossed, when he would unleash a furious and destructive force from within himself. She did not trust him at all.

  ‘Come, let me help you.’

  He pulled her, open-legged, on to his broad flat stomach and made her sit there while his long, thick finger dabbled in her vulva. At first she resisted, clinging to some futile hope that if she did not moisten and seem ready he would not try to enter her. Soon, though, she felt her body responding as it had done to Stefano and to Piero. There was something degrading in the idea that anyone could produce that effect in her, making her wet and throbbing, yet it was exciting too. Before a minute had passed Carla was wanting that big, fleshy cock inside her, yearning to be filled with its sweet meat and ready to open up and receive it.

  Giovanni reached up and rubbed across her small breasts, tweaking the nipples playfully. ‘Oh you are a randy little thing, aren’t you?’ he said, in an almost affectionate tone. ‘The others felt sorry for you, having to submit to Piero’s buggery, as they thought. But all this time you’ve been enjoying him in a different way, haven’t you? Well, if you aren’t the sauciest minx I’ve ever come across! Now get up onto your knees and we’ll see how much of my giant member we can feed into your ravenous maw, shall we?’

  She did as she was told, positioning her sex over the shiny ball of his glans, which was now the colour of a ripe fig and oozing a little white juice. Giovanni seized it firmly and began to prod into her vulva, opening her up. When she flinched he told her to relax or it would hurt her all the more, so she made an effort to loosen up and soon she felt the viscous glans lodged at her entrance.

  ‘Easy does it!’ he murmured, and the domed head pushed a little further in, making the surrounding skin stretch to accommodate it. At first it was uncomfortable, verging on pain, but it was remarkable how soon she was able to take more and more of the gigantic prick into her elastic quim.

  The sense of being completely filled was novel, and Carla realised for the first time how different men’s dimensions could be in that department. Yet she felt disappointed that she could take in no more than a few inches. Giovanni allowed her to set the pace, rising and falling in a rhythm and speed she felt happy with, but it was a mechanical coupling that lacked some special dimension of the imagination. No matter how hard she concentrated on the feeling of being thoroughly filled she could not remove from her mind the image of a brood mare being serviced by a stallion.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ he demanded at one point.

  ‘Oh – you, of course.’

  ‘My dick, you mean. That’s the only part of me that matters to women. Oh, don’t try to pretend otherwise. I’m used to it, and it is of no consequence to me. If it means I get regularly laid that’s all I care about.’

  So it was to be just a bestial coupling, she thought. Suddenly she felt sorry for the man. Giovanni had no idea about love between a man and a woman. All he knew was this empty ritual of fucking. He wanted her to worship his large cock, just as he believed other women did and he had no idea how much they all despised him. His view of women was demeaning, suggesting that all they wanted was filling up like so many hungry babes.

  ‘It would be so different with Marco,’ Carla thought and the tears rolled down her cheeks of their own accord. Too frightened to wipe them away she allowed them to roll down her cheeks and chin until they plopped onto her chest, praying that Giovanni would not notice.

  Fortunately he had begun his rapid ascent towards orgasm, and she clenched her vaginal lips over his glans to hasten the climax, just wanting it to be over. She hoped to see him lose control, wanted to see that coolly handsome face grow distorted in the throes of the love-agony, but she was disappointed. At the moment of release all she saw was an intensification of the dark, savage light in his eye and heard a brief sigh exhaled. And all she felt was a profound relief that, for the moment at least, it was over.

  Carla rolled off him but instead of pulling her into his arms he stood up, steadying himself against the clammy wall of the cellar. He looked down at her, his cock semi-flaccid but still dripping. ‘Aren’t I the best?’ he grinned. ‘Some people say size doesn’t matter, but you know different now, don’t you?’

  She nodded, afraid to gainsay him, but in her heart she despised his pathetic egotism. What really mattered was how you felt about your lover, she was quite sure of that. Giovanni might get her worked up physically, but he could never affect her heart. As he continued with his gloating display of dominance she smiled to herself, realising that he was making himself ridiculous. The Giovanni who strutted and crowed had no power over her now, not now she had the measure of him. He was a fool, who had let his big dick go to his head, thinking that was all that mattered in the world. But there were other ways to a woman’s heart, ways that the likes of Giovanni, blinded by their own arrogance, would never know.

  Chapter Eleven

  MARCO HAD GONE by the time Carla went back upstairs – separately from Giovanni, to avoid suspicion. She saw his empty place at the table with a sinking heart, and when Piero appeared and announced that a new apprentice would be arriving straight away her sense of foreboding increased.

  ‘What’s his name?’ Luigi asked. ‘How old is he?’

  ‘He’s called Domenico and he’s thirteen. A promising lad, from a good family. I’m sure he’ll fit in very well.’

  ‘Where will he sleep?’ Luigi asked, winking at Matteo.

  ‘Ah, yes!’ Piero turned to Carla with a placatory smile. ‘He’ll be taking your place upstairs. I shall have to keep a close eye on him, make sure he settles in and does his work properly.’

  She was aghast. ‘But where will I sleep?’

  ‘With the others, of course. You can have Marco’s bed. And you’ll have to go back to routine jobs again. I just haven’t the time to supervise two of you closely. Besides, Matteo and Luigi need the experience. Once Giovanni goes they’ll be the senior apprentices and will have to take on more advanced work.’

  Every word seemed to sound the death knell to her hopes and dreams. Carla bit her lip, knowing it was useless to protest. Her day as ‘favoured newcomer’ was over and she must go back to being the charity child once again. Only this time she would have Giovanni to contend with instead of Piero.

  Giovanni avoided her eye most of the morning but she was acutely aware of his presence as she ground the colours with pestle and mortar or prepared the painting surfaces with gesso. Whenever he had dealings with her he was scrupulously polite, but she saw the knowing look in his eye and felt his hand linger a second too long whenever he took a brush from her fingers. His new attitude towards her was enigmatic, and she wondered just what was going on behind that bland, indifferent gaze.

  Once she had performed her tasks to the satisfaction of the others she decided to go out for some air. She had no wish to be there when the new boy, Domenico, arrived. It would be humiliating to have to play second fiddle to him, although he was much younger. Her few things had already been moved out of the attic room and brought down to the chest next to Marco’s old bed. She was dreading the night, when she must lie in it.

  Carla walked briskly through the town until she came to the river, then she continued along its bank where the path led towards open fields. There was a feeling of oppression in her breast that she could hardly bear, and she needed to think about her new situation. With long s
trides she walked through reed-beds and marshy ground, hardly aware of what was around her. What are my choices? she kept asking herself. What is best for me to do?

  One thing was certain: she could not bear to stay in Piero’s household if she must go back to drudgery and give up her pleasure in fine work. The church fresco had been completed, and to see it in the mellow light of candles with the gold highlights gleaming amongst the other jewel-bright colours filled her heart with pride and joy. To have to stand by and see others get the best work would be unbearable now.

  Yet if she stayed there was no telling what Giovanni might do or say. He was unpredictable, quixotic. He might tell her secret to the others, and then what would become of her? She might turn into a plaything for them all, to be handed from bed to bed like a whore should they have another night of drunken revelry like the last one. She had sensed their envy of her when she was Piero’s favourite. Now they might well have their revenge.

  But then there was Marco. He had said he wanted her as his apprentice, yet if she accepted his offer how could she then tell him about her true gender? There was no knowing how he might react. She might win his love, but then she would have to give up her work. Or, if she kept her secret from him, she must suffer the torture of being near him every minute of the day but unable to touch him, or talk to him about her feelings. Neither option seemed possible.

  There was a third possibility; that she should strike out on her own and make a fresh start. It was a prospect that appalled her, yet she had done it once and could no doubt do it again. She thought of the artists in the loggia, of the street life she had been so glad to leave behind, and her soul shrank from exchanging her present ease for such hardship.

  First, she decided, she would visit Marco in his new abode and see what transpired. Filled with hope, she returned to the city centre and made her way to the Via Calimala. It was very quiet, since the noonday sun had forced everyone indoors, and when she reached the new premises she found them shuttered. She tried the door and it opened, so she crept in.