The Lady Submits

by Chloe Cox

  She couldn’t help herself; she ground her pelvis towards his hand, and tipped her head towards his, practically whimpering. Lucrezia had never had a man deny her so. She coudn’t quite believe he could manage it, as though at any second he would finally give in and take her to one of the private rooms nearby and finally, finally give her satisfaction.

  “I told you to behave,” he said, his voice grown hard. His glare, even through the mask, was a sudden reminder that he was quite serious. She was grateful — grateful! — for the interruption of a servant bearing a tray of food and amberwine.

  “Sir,” the servant, a young man with thin lips and bright blue eyes, said quietly, setting the tray down on a small table in the center of the group. Master Fortrezza watched intently, then turned his attention back to Lucrezia.

  “Fetch me a glass of amberwine, slave,” he commanded.

  Lucrezia was aware that all conversation in the immediate vicinity had ceased, and that she was, currently, the center of attention. She had no idea why such a simple command could be of such interest, but she was both determined to please her new Master, and in a state of disbelief that she could possibly enjoy subservience, despite all evidence to the contrary.

  The table was just out of her reach. She rose from Master Fortrezza’s lap as gracefully as she could, and bit her lip as he made a deliberate show of letting out some slack on the leash. She turned her back to him, and walked to the table.

  “Bend from the waist,” he called out from behind her. She blushed yet again to think of the view this gave him, but did as she was told.

  Her hand trembled as she poured the amberwine.

  When she turned back to him, his mouth was set in a determined line. He pulled steadily on the leash.

  “Serve me from your knees,” he said in that low rumble that made her weak.

  Once again, she did as she was told. He spread his legs wide, and she walked forward on her knees, careful not to spill any of the wine. He took the glass and drained it at once, never taking his eyes from her.

  “Closer,” he said, and his free hand began to unravel the ties of his trousers. Lucrezia felt her eyes go wide, and her breathing go shallow, but she inched closer. She was trapped between his legs now, and unable to take her eyes off of his groin.

  Finally his cock sprung forth, free of its constraints and so hard it pointed nearly straight up. Lucrezia was slightly taken aback at his size. His girth, really. She was not unfamiliar with male anatomy by any means, but she’d never seen anything quite like this. She was sure, if she were to put out her hand, that she would feel the heat radiating from it, and thought she could see it move softly with his heartbeat.

  At that exact moment, she wanted it inside her more than anything else in the world.

  “I hope you have more talents than serving wine,” he said, and threaded his fingers through her hair.

  “Tell us if she’s any good, Fortrezza,” Lucrezia heard the stable master call out. “I might be in the mood.”

  She started at that, and looked up at Master Fortrezza. He drew her closer, his grip tightening in her mass of golden hair.

  “You are mine,” he whispered. “No one else’s.”

  And he brought her down to his waiting cock.

  Lucrezia took his head in her mouth gratefully, wanting some taste of him, wanting to feel him crave her in the way that she had craved him since he first claimed her. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore everything else while she tried to take as much of him in her mouth as she could.

  “Oh, very nice,” said one of the Masters.

  Lucrezia stopped.

  Her fingers dug into Master Fortrezza’s thighs where she’d moved her hands up his legs, and she slowly pulled away from his swollen cock, shining in the dull light now with her saliva. She was feeling once more overwhelmed with the extremity of the situation, with the unfamiliarity of her place, her place, on her knees in front of this unknown man. The public commentary was simply too much, and this time she froze, rather than delve deeper into an experience that so overwhelmed her.

  Master Fortrezza leaned his head down to hers. “I think you can do much better than that,” he said, and gently lifted her chin up to study her face. “Ah, I see. You are still fighting what you are, aren’t you?”

  Lucrezia did not know how to answer him. She only knew her body still craved him, and that she felt trapped, paralyzed by her inability to go further.

  “Please,” she began to beg, something she had never done in her life. “Please take me now and be done. I need you to.”

  He pinched her chin, and rubbed her lower lip with his thumb. His eyes were warm. “No, pet. You need to see what you are first. Don’t be afraid. I will help you.”

  And he stood up, his unsheathed, hard cock taunting her, his hand still wrapped in her hair as she kneeled at his feet, and announced in a loud voice, “This one needs discipline.”

  The announcement rippled through the courtyard, bringing a moment of silence with it. Then Lucrezia heard a few scattered pockets of polite applause, some appreciative chatter. She didn’t feel able to move on her own, and as she felt more of her cream leaking from between her legs, she was strangely awash in gratitude to this harsh man, who had promised to show her satisfaction. For the first time in her life, she was completely at sea, not knowing who she was or how she would respond to the things that were happening to her, but he had promised to show her. She could sense that to embrace such a state would be liberating, but it still seemed just out of reach, much like her orgasm itself.

  “Get up,” he said, and pulled her up beside him. He pointed to a large, high backed, armless chair across the platform, and called out to the servant who had brought them the amberwine. “Bring it here,” he said, indicating the center of the platform.

  Lucrezia looked out, and saw that they had begun to gather a crowd, of sorts. His announcement of discipline attracted onlookers. She felt the grip of anxiety return, and clutched at his arm.

  “This is how you’ll learn, Lucrezia,” he whispered.

  Lucrezia! She thought madly. He recognizes me! How can —

  The leash strained against her as she stood, frozen to the spot, her mind a blizzard of panic and confusion, and he turned to look at her sternly. “Now,” he said, and he yanked her forward.

  She stumbled again, more aware of her nakedness than ever, and stood uselessly at his side as he sat in the imposing chair. She braved a look out to the surrounding courtyard. It seemed all of the Severille had assembled in their curiosity, a starkly intimidating group of severe Masters, and, worse, smirking slaves. How many of them recognize me? Lucrezia thought with dread. Surely if a man I’ve never known can see through my mask… .

  A high peal of laughter cracked the air and stung her to her core. Master Fortrezza looked carefully at her face, and then put a reassuring hand between her legs, and squeezed. She was humiliated to feel comforted, and wet, and once again completely in his power.

  He turned to address the crowd, for all the world like a king on his throne.

  “I have here a new slave,” his voice boomed out, “one who still fights her nature. Won’t you help me show her what she is by bearing witness to her punishment?”

  There were some excited cheers, mostly from the slaves. Lucrezia found herself shaking, almost imperceptibly, and there was certainly a voice in her head which told her to run, to stop this, to fight against such debasement. And yet her breasts ached for Master Fortrezza’s touch, and her pussy hungered at the hope of that beautiful cock driving inside her, over and over again, and not a single fiber of her being suggested — even permitted — that she utter her safeword.

  Master Fortrezza looked at her pleading face — pleading for what, beyond that massive cock, she wasn’t entirely sure — and he began to wrap the leash around his hand, one loop over the other, slowly and deliberately, pulling her down by the neck.

  “Over my knee, slave.”

  He grabbed her by the ass as
he pulled sharply down on the leash, splaying her across his massive lap in one smooth motion. She flailed slightly, fighting to find her balance, and he grabbed her between the legs, hoisted her up, and settled her in the center. His erection pressed painfully into her belly, and her breasts pressed uncomfortably over his thigh, in full view of the blue-eyed male servant who had attended them. The servant put his hand to his groin, and she saw that he was hard, and leering at her.

  “Oh, well done,” she heard someone say.

  Master Fortrezza’s hand, wrapped in the leather of her leash, slipped under her chin, and raised her head.

  “You will count the blows,” he said, “until I am satisfied that you have learned your true place.”

  And before Lucrezia had a chance to speak, his palm came crashing down on her right buttock. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She could not quite accept what had happened. That she, the Lady Lucrezia Grimaldi, had been stripped, tossed over a man’s knee, and spanked in public.

  “I said count,” he growled.

  And again, his hand struck her buttock, still sore from the first strike. Lucrezia’s whole body jolted forward with the force of the blow, her breasts jiggling for the appreciative servant.

  “One!” she heard herself cry.

  There was an enthusiastic clap from somewhere in the crowd.

  “Two! Three!”

  She gasped as he slipped his angry hand between her legs again, forcing her thighs slightly apart, and ran his fingers up and down her slit. He moved his other hand from her neck and viciously pinched one nipple, then the other, and she moaned out loud.

  “What are you?” he demanded, and another blow rained down, this time on the other cheek.

  “Four!” she gasped, her mind searching desperately, distracted by the pain and the pleasure of it. She didn’t know what he wanted her to say. She couldn’t reveal her identity, she couldn’t… .

  “I asked you a question,” he said grimly, and struck her again, this time with so much force that her inner folds quivered. She mewled, and her back arched of its own accord, raising her bottom to him.

  “Five!” She was panting now, squirming underneath his strong grip. Every time his hand came down, she wished it closer, nearer her pulsing sex. And yet he would not give her satisfaction, as long as she did not know how to answer his questions.

  “I don’t know, sir! Please,” she begged, her voice pitiful, “please…”

  He hit her again, and this time clapped his hand between her legs at the finish and pushed two fingers into her. She moaned, but did not forget her task.

  “Six,” she gurgled.

  There was more appreciative laughter, but Lucrezia no longer cared. He was inside her, at least in this small way, his fingers expertly sliding in and out of her, swirling her edges, bringing her ever higher. Her arms flailed, looking for purchase, until she gripped the edge of the seat beneath his leg and blindly bucked into his fingers.

  This time, it was Master Fortrezza who laughed.

  “You abandon all dignity, and yet cannot name what you are?” he said, and swiftly pulled out of her. She might have protested if he had not been quicker: in a flash he had grabbed her hands and pulled them behind her. He bound them together with the length of her own leash, leaving just enough slack that she need not hurt herself, if she didn’t struggle and kept her back arched, her breasts out, her bottom up. He cupped her sex, and steadied her there, seemingly just to torment her.

  She was truly at his mercy, too shocked to speak.

  He snapped his fingers, and the servant who had been stroking himself while watching her ordeal came to attention and rushed forward, and out of her line of sight. She heard Master Fortrezza say something about “the plug.” Lucrezia still had enough dull awareness in her blunted mind to wonder vaguely about what would come next, but such thoughts were muffled beneath the chorus of pleasure, pain, and desire that thrummed through her body. She would do anything, now, if it meant she could have him, if only she could figure out what that was.

  She heard the soft pat of the servant’s slippers as he returned, heard Master Fortrezza tell him to stay, to watch, to learn, and then suddenly there was something wet in the crack between her buttocks. Master Fortrezza bounced his legs and shifted her forward so that her bottom reached further into the air, into the plain view of all who watched, spreading her legs further apart as he did so. He was careful to check the slack on her leash and bound hands.

  “Perhaps this will help motivate you,” he said, and with his skillful fingers he began to probe her tender anus, working the lubricant he had spread there into the delicate, puckered flesh.

  Lucrezia forgot to breathe.

  No one had ever claimed her asshole before.

  She writhed a little in fear before he calmed her, his hand on the back of her neck. “Hush,” he said, soothingly. “Don’t fight it.”

  And it did feel good. It felt…she hadn’t known. It was different; sensitive, but different. Little circles of fizzing pleasure followed the trail of his fingers, connected by some invisible tether to the sensitive spot at the top of her sex. It felt somehow wrong, in a way that she had, incredibly, not yet experienced this night.

  He forced one finger into the tight ring, and she muffled a squeal. No one was fooled; there was more laughter.

  Master Fortrezza worked his finger in a circle, stretching her out. It was the most delicious violation, and kept her perpetually on the brim of becoming completely overwhelmed. Just when she felt able to take it, he added another.

  “Do it already,” she heard the stable master say in his rough tones. “Fill her up.”

  She felt more of the hot, wet liquid, and then, just as she had found a rhythm, he removed his fingers. She nearly growled in protest, earning more laughter from the crowd, and a hard spank from her Master. She tried to turn her head to glare at him, on the verge of losing her patience, when she felt it.

  Something cool, and smooth, and hard, pressed against her tender bud. Whatever it was, it was much bigger than his fingers. Master Fortrezza grabbed her by the back of her neck once more, a gesture that had come to instantly pacify her. Still, she was afraid.

  “Wait,” she said, twisting below his hands, “oh, please…”

  The pressure increased as he pressed firmly down, even as her body fought against it. Whatever it was felt much too big; she was certain she couldn’t take it.

  “Please,” she panted, but her plea was only greeted by more delighted laughter from the crowd. This was evidently something they’d seen before.

  “This one needs to be plugged, Fortrezza!”

  “Stop fighting, love,” he murmured to her.

  And he forced the length of the thing past her tight ring. For a brief, blinding moment it hurt, it truly hurt; then she felt a sort of pop, and it slid past and deep inside her. Whatever it was filled her, filled her in a way…there was no more room for words. No more room for fighting. She cried out, a bare, animal sound, dimly aware that she was making yet another spectacle of herself.

  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 bru
squely, 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.