Max takes yet another picture of me, this time with the Dome lit behind me. "I can't help it. You're just so beautiful!"
"So we've been under the Coliseum, under the Vatican, through Hadrian's, we've walked for hours and hours...what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" I don't even know how long we're staying; he won't tell me. I know that I have a lot of unworn clothes still, but I laugh realizing how much I've given to Max the past few days.
I haven't had a say in anything this entire trip. He's planned everything out, from private tours and cars, to where we eat. I asked to go back to a shop yesterday and he wouldn't let me. He didn't explain why, just told me no. And I didn't argue. A test maybe? He's usually so indulgent of my wants and needs.
He's shown me parts around Rome I didn't know existed. The tomb below the Vatican, the sacred mosaic, our feet following the path of Popes. The exotic fountains of Villa d'Este with the best gelato outside the gates. An underground Osteria. A warehouse of restored museum pieces. A private garden with rare sculptures of liquid beauty. A cooking class with three Nonnas. I think that one was more for him. He wants me to be a good cook.
"You are going to pack us up tonight...we're heading to Capri tomorrow."
"Yeah! I've never been south of Rome! How are we getting there?" I'm excited to see a new area of Italy.
"That's enough questions, little girl. You'll pack us up when we get back to the hotel, we have an early departure tomorrow. That is all you need to know." He squeezes my arm and smiles smugly at me. I know he's enjoyed this total control...since our wedding day, he's had absolute power over me. And I've never seen Max happier. I smile knowing that he's happy with how I submit to his control...making him happy makes me happier.
Chapter 12 HIM
"I could get used to living on an island." I take another shot of the Faraglioni, still not tired of our view out to sea.
"I could get used to living on this island!" She laughs, stretching on the lounge chair, arms straight in the air, fingers wiggling. I snap another picture of her and she laughs harder.
In Rome, we ran around all day, down, up, through, around the Eternal City. Seeing everything again for the first time together. I felt like a kid. This leg of our honeymoon has been more relaxed. Our routine has been to do only one thing in the morning and spend the afternoon around our villa and pool. We've explored most the island, rented a boat, hiked past the flimsy gate up the Via Krupp and through the Gardens, around the Villa Jovis, over the rooftops to Anacapri. But always back for an afternoon of swimming and lounging, fucking and napping.
The tourist season is ended here; the pace is slower. La Piazzetta is quieter, shop and restaurant owners stop to talk more, haggling anything. I negotiated the price for a lobster dinner with the owner of a restaurant last night; we were his last customers before closing up and heading to his vineyard on the mainland. He threw in the best fresh scampi I've ever had too. Of course, he sat and drank half our wine and charged us for the pleasure of his company...but that was a part of the bargain.
"I like the idea of you on an island..."
"Oh...why's that?" She's squinting up at me, her eyes brighter than the sea in the setting sun.
"I could keep you all to myself. You'd be trapped, only able to come and go as I please...I'd be your Caesar..."
She laughs and reaches her hand out to me, "Don't you already have that power...without need of a sea?"
I kiss her hand. This trip has been good for her. The perfect start to our lives as man and wife. She won't be surprised when we're back home and I expect the same behavior. She is on an island of my choosing, and I'll keep her there.
I step back to the terrace wall. Waves lap the rocky beach below. "Come here." She gets up immediately and comes to me. I love her lack of hesitation on this trip.
I turn her to face the water and stand behind her, pushing her forward, placing her hands flat on the stone wall, looking out to the jutting fragments of rock. She doesn't resist. I hold the skirt of her dress up, exposing her nice round ass, the top of her pink frilly thong peeking out. She raises onto her tip-toes, just the way I like, arching herself to me.
"Do you know why I'm going to spank you, Lucy?"
"No, Sir." Still no hesitation. Only an added hunger lines her voice.
I run my hand up her leg and squeeze her right cheek hard, she breathes out slowly, staying on her toes. "Because I want to. Because I can." I smile. "Because I can't imagine a more perfect view than your bottom matching the reddening sky."
She swallows hard, "Thank you, Sir."
I slap her right cheek hard, pushing her forward, bending her elbows with the blow. A soft moan escapes her lips, but is made louder by the next slap to her left cheek. I alternate between them, right left right left right left, taking my time between each flat whack, pushing her forward each time, waiting for her to come back for more. She stays on her toes, only whimpering softly with the last one.
"Keep your dress up and stand facing the sea." I take her seat on the lounger and watch as the setting sun outlines my beautiful girl. Her skin glows against the darkening sky, my handprints matching the sun's fingers stretching across the water. She stands with her shoulders back, the dress high around her waist, chin up.
When the last of the light dips into the water, "You may lower your dress and turn around."
Her smile is wicked. She starts to move towards me, but stops with a startled cry and her hand to her mouth. I turn in the seat and follow her stare. Up the hill to our right is another villa, with a terrace. A man in a light suit has been watching the sun set on Lucy too. I start to chuckle as Lucy runs into the living room.
As I stand to follow, the man raises his hand in a wave, a tipping of his non-existent hat to me. I smile and raise my hand to him.
"Lucy...you know better than to run away from me like that..." but the chuckle is still in my voice.
"Did you see? That man was watching us?!" She's whispering like she could be overheard by someone in here.
"So what? That's no excuse for you leaving my side..." I try to put a little sternness into my voice, but fail miserably. The look on her face is just too damn funny! "Come here."
She moves into my arms and I kiss the top of her head. I walk us to the sofa and lie down, propping my head up on the arm. She watches as I undo my pants and pull my cock out. She's on her knees quickly and I breath sharply in as she grabs my cock in both hands and puts her mouth around me in one movement.
Her lips tighten and relax, her tongue pushes and wraps as she raises her head and hands up and down my cock. She's learned how I like it. I yank her head back and my good girl whines, not at the pain, but at being forced to stop. "Get on me." She stands and drops her thong quickly. Putting her knees into the sofa, she lowers herself onto me. Just like I like, all the way down, her dress pooling around us.
Hands behind her back, she slowly raises herself up and down. She's gotten good at this. Her legs are stronger from jogging.
I like watching her, head back, eyes almost closed, concentrating on her movements, squeezing me like I like. But I like fucking with her too. I grab the front of her dress and yank her towards me, stopping her from falling against me at the last second with my palm. Her hair blankets over us, her hands still behind her back. I push her with my palm and pull her with my other hand squeezing her tender ass. She continues to try to rock her hips against me more, but I'm controlling our movements now, pushing and pulling her faster.
I give one final push and she sits up, hair whipping to the side, I slap her exposed cheek hard and she cries out, eyes wide open, not moving her hips. I growl, "Don't stop," and keep my other hand on her ass, pulling her towards me. She moves her hips and I pull her into me deeper when she rocks away, slapping her cheek again.
Her eyes take on that look I can't get enough of, soft, yielding, wanting. She's told me that her fear of me makes her even hungrier for me, for my love. I continue slapping her with each quick pull forward and she keeps her
chin up like I've taught her, squeezing and crying out. I yank her head back as she cums loudly, her body rocking against me, stealing the last of my own control with her spasms.
.....
"Nic, I'll text you when we're ready to head back." He nods and drives off. I put my arm around Lucy and head towards the restaurant just off the square. She looks beautiful in a tight tan sweater and skirt, showing off her sandals from Anacapri. We walk by the busy tables on the cobblestones and the owner's wife welcomes us with hugs and air kisses. She says she held our favorite table for us and we show ourselves upstairs, to the balcony.
"Ah, hello!" I stop and turn to the man sitting by himself at the table next to the balcony.
I frown for a moment, trying to place his face before I slowly smile. "Hello, neighbor." Lucy stands waiting next to her chair, she knows not to sit without me. But she can't see the man I'm talking to. "Lucy, come say hello." I see her flush as she stands at my side, recognizing the man who saw her spanked earlier.
"I was beginning to think that I was the only tourist left on the island." The man laughs, appraising Lucy up and down, before meeting my eyes again. "It's always nice to see other Americans on holiday." His accent has a hint of British, maybe London, but too muddled with a stronger New York accent. He puts out his hand and we shake, "Names Randolph Richards...a horrible joke I think from my British Mum." He laughs at himself and his cheeks turn as rosy as Lucy's.
"I'm Max Traeger. This is my wife Lucy." She continues to only shrink next to my arm. In a voice that has her jumping, "Don't be rude, little girl."
"Hello." She says quietly, only raising her eyes for a moment.
"Charming." Randolph smiles at me. "Have you eaten here before? I only just arrived yesterday..."
"Yes. This has become our favorite spot." Something about how embarrassed Lucy is acting makes me want to embarrass her even more. I see his table is set for one. "Are you dining alone? Would you like to join us, Randolph?" I'm pleased to see the redness in Lucy's cheeks deepen. She puts her hand lightly on my arm, but doesn't say anything.
"I'd be delighted, Max. Oh..." He looks around for the waiter, but isn't getting anyone's attention.
I speak up, "Pasquale," the waiter stops in front of me and gives me a quick handshake and air kiss hello, "We'd like Mr. Richards here to join us for dinner. Please add a setting to our table." He moves quickly to make this happen and pulls the table out a little for Lucy to sit on the outside. She smiles a thanks to him, but continues to keep her eyes down.
The waiter hands both of us a menu and walks away. "Don't you need to see a menu, Lucy...or do you already know what you want? Perhaps you can help me with a choice...?"
She looks to me to answer, actually pleads a little with her eyes. I grin, "You're being rude again, Lucy..." The hint of threat obvious.
"...My husband orders for me..." She says this very quietly, but I'm proud to see that she keeps her chin up. "The mussels last night were very nice." But she hasn't looked at either of us. Her hands wringing her napkin into a tight twist.
Randolph grins at me. He's probably in his 60's, a portly belly more than started. I grin back. He seems to get the picture pretty quickly, "Your wife is very charming indeed, Max."
"Thank you. This is our honeymoon actually...and Lucy is still learning." I wink and he laughs out loud again.
"I believe I witnessed a lesson earlier tonight," his grin turns a little embarrassed. Lucy lowers her head and shrinks in her chair at this. "I'm afraid I have to apologize for my rudeness...I just couldn't take my eyes away."
"No...I should apologize. No one's been in that villa since we arrived. I should have checked first." I look at Lucy, her face is paled. I think she's holding her breath. "Lucy, sit up straight." She immediately does, but her eyes and chin stay down.
"We should celebrate your matrimonial bliss! Oh...what was his name?...Right...Pasquale! We need your finest Amarone...and you might as well bring two bottles to save yourself a trip." He pats his stomach and relaxes back into his seat, smiling from me to Lucy. "I don't think I've met a couple quite like you...well, not since I was a boy anyway."
"The days when men were men...?" I laugh at using this phrase, but it probably suits his cowboy image of that era.
"Yes...and women were still treated like property...?" He wags his bushy brows at me with a little giggle.
Lucy squirms in her seat, looking at me sideways. I smile at her, taking her hand under the table. "Exactly."
Randolph giggles again and Lucy blushes more. "I find it very refreshing. No misunderstandings about who's who and what's what. Very refreshing."
Lucy finally stops looking so uncomfortable with the help of a second glass of wine and more of the spaghetti alle vongole she liked. He has her shyly giggling over a story of a couple he met last month in Venice, also on their honeymoon. Apparently Randolph had enjoyed cigars with the husband earlier in the night. But over dinner, the man kept spitting into his wine glass.
"And making the most horrible sound while doing so. It was drawing quite a bit of attention to our table. The wife only laughed and looked like he does this sort of thing all the time." I'm laughing picturing Randolph in the middle of a restaurant with these two. "Well...to put it delicately...the sight of the side of this man's wine glass was too much for the large meal I had enjoyed up to this point." He pauses dramatically to take another sip of wine. "I lost that divine meal on the floor of the restaurant!" He starts laughing harder, waving his hand in front of his red face.
"But what was worse," he interrupts himself with laughter again, "when I came back to the table, the waiters were clearing the floor, I was giving Euros to anyone with a hand out in retribution," he stops to laugh again, "and this sweet elderly couple was trying to get away from the mess. The husband...he's still spitting into his glass!" We're all three laughing hard now. "And this sweet elderly woman almost slips on the floor. What do you think the man had to say for himself?" He laughs too hard to tell us for a second, wiping at his eyes. "Yo, that'sa his tomato!" He does a perfect New Yorker and we're all holding our sides laughing.
"That's awful! Did you get out of there as quick as you could?"
Randolph continues laughing too hard to answer Lucy, "No...I ordered dessert." She laughs harder at this. He sobers enough to add, "I was hungry after all," and pats his middle.
She giggles more. "I wouldn't have given up dessert either!"
"Well...with your permission...?" He looks to me; I nod, "I saw a few I'd like to try from here, but I can't possibly order all three just for me...you'll help me, won't you, Lucy?"
Lucy looks to me and smiles. She's getting used to her role in public.
Chapter 13 HER
"Hey!"
"Yeah...you're home!" Laura sounds excited to hear from me. I wasn't sure she'd pick up being a work day. "I know you didn't know how long you'd be gone..."
"We got back yesterday. I've been sleeping since." Well...mostly sleeping anyway.
"Where'd you go?"
"We went to Italy. Rome and Capri. It was amazing, Laura!"
"I am so jealous! I've always wanted to go. Did you take lots of pictures for me at least?"
"Max took a ton. I'll send you some." I look at the dining table, where my list of chores for the day sits. Downloading the pictures is #7. I was a little shocked yesterday to see the list waiting for me when we got home. Max put it there before he left for our wedding.
"So...how was it?" I giggle and she laughs, "That good, huh?!"
I giggle more, "Yes!"
"Ok...details...and I don't mean about the ruins either!"
"It's ten in the morning! Shouldn't you be in a meeting or something?" I laugh, but I miss seeing her around the office already.
"Good point...ok, come for lunch then."
"I can't." I pause though on the rest. I think I can say this to Laura...but only her. I could use one friend who understands exactly how things are for me anyway. "I didn't get Max's permission.
.." This is what he expects of me. Saying it out loud, the opposing humiliation and pride, I feel a little giddy.
I had this reaction on our honeymoon. Acting so obviously submissive to Max around strangers, I felt a lot of humiliation. The looks from people, the comments. But I also felt this strange sense of pride. I am his possession, his property. And I'm proud of that. I'm proud of how happy I make him.
"Oh..." I wait to see what else Laura will say. We talked a lot before the wedding and at the reception she helped to smooth things over with Tracy about my vows, but I've never been this blunt with her. "Well...then check about tomorrow...or come to Romona’s Wednesday?!" She sounds fine. I let my breath out. I'm really going to have to get more details about that guy she dated in college.
"Ok. I'll let you know." I can't believe how easy that was. I know I won't be having this conversation with Tracy. "And thanks, Laura."
"No problem! I'll let Tracy know you're back too. She's been driving me crazy with the whole 'how could she be ok with not knowing how long she's going to be gone' shit. I'll tell her you're going to try to come Wednesday to shut her up..."
I laugh. We hang up and I finish my coffee on the sofa. I smile thinking of my list, but I keep going back to yesterday instead of getting up.
Max carried me over the threshold again. And when he set me down, he said, "This is your island, Mrs. Traeger." Looking around the apartment, it's a nice island. I'll happily come and go just as Max pleases.
And I better get going! I have to finish some items on his list before he comes home for lunch. And I have to log some distance at the gym in the journal Max gave me.
Chapter 13 HIM
I drop the plastic dish on the coffee table in front of her. She jumps and looks up at me before frowning down at it. I finish buttoning my shirt. Lunch and a quickie has been our routine.
"I've made an appointment for you tomorrow." She doesn't move just stares at me from the sofa, her legs bent under one of my t-shirts, arms crossed on her knees.
True Choices: A Dark Romance (True Series Book 3) Page 9