The Lady Submits (3 page)

“Yours?” she said.

“Mine,” he rumbled. “If you want satisfaction, you will obey
my every command.”

Satisfaction
,
Lucrezia thought. It had begun to seem impossible, and yet every inch of her
screamed that this man could give it to her.

“You will not come until I permit it,” he said, his free hand
roving over her body, “and you will come
exactly
when I order it. Do you understand?”

Lucrezia groaned. She would have to wait? She already felt
at wits’ end, on the verge of madness, even, unable to do or think anything
that did not revolve around her eventual release. And just as she’d begun to
despair, this man, this large, strong man, whose tan skin smelled of
woodsmoke
and sweat, who’d already made her moan, arrived
to take command.

“Yes,” she said recklessly, hardly believing that she did
so, “yes.”

Oh, Gods,
Lucrezia
thought,
what have I done?

The man smiled again, those full lips twisting in an
arrogant grin, and let her go. Then he produced something made of leather that
he’d had hanging from his belt. “Pull up your hair,” he ordered.

Lucrezia did so automatically, and wondered at how easily
she took to obedience. He took a moment to let a few long, golden ribbons fall
through his fingers. There was a rumble in his chest that she felt reverberate throughout
her body.

“So lovely,” he said, and he sounded almost gentle. Then he
swiftly placed a leather cord around her neck, and secured a clasp in the back.

It was a collar.

“What is this?” Lucrezia blinked, and drew her hands up to
her throat, not quite believing her common sense. He caught her hands in his,
and
and
pointedly tilted his head.

“This tells everyone here that you are mine,” he said, and
then more sternly, “and reminds you of your place, if you were to forget it.”

He gathered both her wrists in one large hand, and with the
other attached a long leather lead to the front of her collar. Lucrezia blinked
again. Her mind reeled, and the thought of being led around like a prize animal
left her…

She knew how she should react. She should be furious.
Instead moisture seeped between her legs, and her belly tightened.

“Very good,” he murmured softly, and stroked her hot cheek.
“Very good. There is only one last thing. Do not move, my love.”

She started at the affectionate term, but remembered his
order, and found that, incredibly, she did not want to move. She wanted to see
what he would do next.

He moved behind her, dropping some slack from the lead, and
her two-piece ensemble suddenly pressed tight against her
flesh
as the straps in back were pulled taut. There were a series of quick snips, and
her clothing fell in a ruined piled at her feet.

She was completely naked, except for the collar.

“No —” the word came out half-finished, strangled, as
she instinctively moved to cover herself, looking wildly towards the nearby plants
for potential shelter. This was too much. But the man — she had not even
learned his
name
— seized her
by the arms and held her in place.

“Do not make me use the leash,” he said, his voice very
quiet, very still. “You will not cover yourself in my presence unless I require
it.”

Lucrezia tensed in his arms, and there was a long, still
moment, where they both knew she was thinking about using her
safeword
. She could. She knew she could, at any moment. Why
she did not, why she
still
did not,
utterly baffled her rational mind. Lucrezia knew she was afraid of what might
come next, but she also felt that deep hunger, that infernal vibration, that threatened
to consume her entirely, and she had never been more drawn to a man in her
entire life.
A man who could be anyone behind his black mask.

But Grimaldis did not run from fear.

Slowly, she willed herself to relax, and leaned back into
the hard length of his muscled body. He was hot to the touch on her bare skin.
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, acclimating herself to the
reality that she would play this man’s game, as alien as it seemed. Her body
demanded it. He had promised her satisfaction if she did.

“What do I call you?” she finally asked.

He reached up and began to gently pet her head, her neck,
her hair, down her arms, and around to her belly, which convulsed in spasms of
sensation at his touch. She heard his low chuckle once again.

“You may call me ‘Master
Fortrezza
’
if you find yourself in need of assistance and I am not by your side, though I
think that unlikely to happen. Otherwise you will call me ‘sir.’”

His hands continued to roam over her naked flesh, sending
waves of shivering sensation through her body that crossed and built upon each
other, amplifying the intensity of each, and threatening to bring her to her
knees. She leaned her head back into his chest, and sighed.

His hand came between her legs again, and this time it
quickly dipped a finger between her folds. She let out a small moan, and was
sure that it came away wet. He laughed.

“Not quite yet,” he said. “You are not ready yet. First we
will see how you do in public.”

She stiffened. Once again he turned her around to face him,
and this time he smiled wickedly at her obviously horrified expression. “I
think you will come to enjoy it,” he said, and tugged playfully on her leash.

He was clearly enjoying himself. It seemed each moment
brought some new outrage that both revolted and aroused Lucrezia, and this man
—
sir
, she thought to herself,
marveling at it,
Master
Fortrezza
— this
sir
delighted in her confusion.

He winked at her, through his mask, and then tweaked both
her nipples. He looked down to see them hardening into tight, pointed buds.

“Now you’re presentable,” he said, and turned towards the
raised platform in the very center of the courtyard.

Lucrezia was about to object when she felt the leash tug on
her collar. She didn’t quite believe he would keep walking when he felt the
line go taut, but he did. He truly did. She was jerked forward, stumbling on
her delicate shoes, the only clothing she was still permitted to wear. He
pulled her into the light of the courtyard, where she suddenly knew herself to
be completely visible to all, and kept going. The shame was immediate, and
seemed to rise from some deep, hidden well inside her. Like all members of her
family, Lucrezia Grimaldi had thought herself beyond something so pathetic, so
common, as shame. Shame was for those who could not afford pride, and who were
subject to the laws of common men.

And yet it was shame that burned within her, spreading from
the inside out to her skin in a red flush, as she felt the eyes of all the
gathered Severille on her naked body, led on the end of a leash like a piece of
property.

And that shame made her wet.

More than wet. Lucrezia was certain her juices had
overflowed, that they glistened on her inner thighs, that her desire for this
man who led her about on a
leash
was
so great that it was obvious to all. And this only increased the shame. The
thought of all those eyes on her, the thought of all those witnesses to her
subjugation
… .

By the time Master
Fortrezza
sprawled
comfortably on one of the divans on the center platform, Lucrezia was nearly
dizzy with desire. She craved him. She stared hungrily at his groin, where the
bulge of him was clearly visible, and stood unsure of her place, naked, before
him and his gathered friends.

He followed her gaze, and laughed.

“Oh, you are a natural harlot,” he said, and tugged on the
leash, bringing her to his feet. The sudden movement bounced her breasts, and
reminded her that she was so exposed. The feeling of horror returned, and she
looked around to find a group of Severille Masters and their slaves, all clad
in various combinations of black leather, studying her with interest. Master
Fortrezza
noticed their interest, too. “Stay,” he said to
her. It was unmistakably an order.

“New,
Fortrezza
?” said a barrel-chested
man in a green mask. He sat to her left with a woman at his feet.

“This is her first night here.”

Who is this man?
Lucrezia
thought.
Who is he that he knows —

Her thoughts were interrupted by hot breath on her shoulder.
Startled, she turned to see an unmasked man with heavy, rough features, as
though hewn out of living rock, staring down at her. With creeping dread,
Lucrezia realized that she recognized him. He was the stable master at the
Duke’s castle.
The
stable
master.

“May I?” the stable master asked. His question was not
addressed to Lucrezia.

“Of course,” she heard Master
Fortrezza
say amiably. The man next to her reached up and hefted her breasts, first one,
then
the other. He ran his fingers in circles around her
nipples, and squeezed her buttock, hard, before giving it a good slap.

“Very nice,” he said with approval, and returned to his
seat, where a docile woman waited for him, perched on the armrest of his chair.

Lucrezia’s
mind could not quite
accommodate the idea of a world where a stable master might intimately inspect
her body and pass judgment on its attractions. And yet, it had happened. She
looked directly at her Master —
have
I already come to think of him as my Master?
she
wondered — and found that he was grinning again. He had the air of a man
who knew something that she did not.

“Come sit on my lap,” he said, and tugged once more on her
leash.

Lucrezia was perversely glad for the reprieve, as she had
begun to feel as though she were losing her mind, and the feel of Master
Fortrezza’s
body cradling hers seemed to somehow dull the
strangeness of the experience. She felt more…capable. More sure, less battered
by doubt borne of novelty. It perhaps helped that he casually fondled her
breasts as he chatted with the other Masters, that he ran his hand up and down
her aching thigh, and that she could feel the hard length of his erection
against her bare bottom.

Still, Lucrezia now had a moment to take in her
surroundings. There were three other Masters gathered around, the two she’d
already taken note of, and a woman. They each had attendant slaves, but none
were nude, nor were they leashed. It seemed her Master had stricter standards,
or simply wished to humiliate her. She felt a slight flutter in her stomach,
and turned her attention outward.

The outer rings of the courtyard still bustled with
activity, and Lucrezia now saw several uniformed servants darting about with
trays of food and drink. Of course there were servants. She had been to other Severille
events, although admittedly they were tame in comparison to this night, and those
events had always provided the kind of service that someone of
Lucrezia’s
rank would expect. She had never had cause to
notice until now, when she reached a new level of mortification at the thought
of domestic servants bearing witness to her sexual subjugation.

Lucrezia had never felt like this. She thought she would go
mad.

She ground her ass into Master
Fortrezza’s
lap, seeking out his erection. All she could think about was taking his cock
inside her.

“Behave,” he said, and lightly swatted her breast. One of
the other Masters laughed; it seemed her desperation was apparent to all.

Master
Fortrezza
raised his arm
and beckoned to a passing servant. “Bring us a tray and a bottle of amberwine,”
he said, and, slipping his hand between
Lucrezia’s
thighs, he whispered, “
we
’ll find you something to
occupy yourself, pet.”

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.