The Surrender of Lady Charlotte (16 page)

d

“She will come to you, milord, and ask permission to be trained in Caius’ dungeon,” Charlotte spoke to her husband candidly as they strolled the west portico that evening.

The man smiled. “You’ve done well.”

“And I am not finished,” she said.

“You like this task, I see?”

“I’ll do it well because I want my release. But, yes, I do find myself enthralled by the prospect of training this virgin for your service. It inspires me.”

“You’re inspired? How fine for you. But not until I’m poised with the prize ready to be initiated into my world as my new wife will you be freed.”

“Are you sure you want another wife?”

“It gives me greater reign.”

“No one has greater reign than you.”

“I like the title
husband
, then. It doesn’t matter to you. It’s what I want.”

“Then, of course, proceed.”

“Bring the virgin to me,” Mountbane said, “and we will.”

Charlotte nodded and went her way. She thought the morning would be the best hour to advance the plot and so she waited until then.

In the dungeon now, the Lady Charlotte found herself surprisingly comfortable in an atmosphere that had been so filled with anxious musings and tremendous pain—and, of course, overwhelming bodily delights. She gazed on the cowering young virgin on the floor and smiled to herself knowing what terror faced her. Charlotte envied her. As horrible as her first months had been in Ilusia, those hours at the mercy of the ruthless Caius were her first moments of sexual ecstasy. She’d received the most amazing physical gifts. And then the wedding, that fine, fine feast of debauchery and perversion. It could not be surpassed… it was there she first made love to Sir Tristan. As Charlotte settled on the picture of the man, her body burned again. She tried to push the thought away, but it was just too present with her to disappear.

Still, no relief from her required chastity, she would have to guard against too much stimulation in this task. She could not afford more nights of sexual misery. She hoped that a few labors as an attendant mistress in the dungeon might placate her needs; but thoughts of Tristan would not do. This undertaking must be made without his remembrance. No, she’d keep her mind fixed to her purpose, on the fledgling submissive, Rosaura, who now knelt so sweetly, with such trembling and such innocence. Her virgin body would soon be torn apart—and before that—her virgin mind would be wasted. She would learn of the bizarre and twisted paths of her country’s darkest secrets.

It had been a fine ceremony, Charlotte thought, as she reminisced about the brief moments between Rosaura and Mountbane earlier that day. Of course, it had been a shock to the girl coming before the ruler and making her hesitant request. Her body quavered and she was nearly in tears.

“What is it you desire?” Mountbane had asked her while pouring out all the verve of his most domineering mien. Had this been too much? Charlotte wondered at the time. Still, Rosaura remained firm in her conviction.

“I wish to be trained in your dungeon,” she’d said sweetly.

Up to that point Mountbane had no verification of Charlotte’s success, and this nearly made him smile with glee. He did, however, keep his poise.

“For what purpose?” he asked the girl.

“So I might better serve an Ilusian husband.”

“You are wise to seek this instruction. But what of your father?”

“He will not approve.”

“And would it be wise to dishonor one of my finest nobles?”

“I respect my father and yet he is shallow in his thinking. There is no way that he can protect me from my homeland and its practices forever. No man in Ilusia wants a comely but untried, untrained wife.”

Ah! She was far more than comely, the Lord was thinking—so Charlotte presumed as she listened on. “That is true,” he agreed. “Should I speak with your father on your behalf?”

“If it pleases you.”

“And are you truly ready to withstand the rigors and punishments this entails?”

“I must be ready. I can’t let my life slide by denying myself half of what I desire. I have already, foolishly, allowed myself to be lured into a woefully lacking love.”

“Then so be it,” Mountbane announced dryly. Though Charlotte could see that Mountbane was holding back his own desire, she also witnessed the shuddering sweep of satisfaction that was so manifest in Rosaura as she took in the commanding presence of this man. She’d felt that satisfaction, too—but it had lied to her of many things, distorting the nature of Ilusian love, making her hope that this lust had real affection behind it.

In this case, however, she had to consider Rosaura. She was Ilusian by birth, and she felt her submissive birthright in her bones. Perhaps, unlike herself, Rosaura would not fall prey to the same miseries that plagued a noble-born woman from a land across the borders. Then too, as Mountbane suggested, there was something quite different about this possible coupling—most notably her husband’s surprising appetite for the girl. He was smitten, truly smitten.

It was not for Charlotte to predict outcomes. Her task was simple and she was on with it determined to win her freedom.

Charlotte waited herself, now, standing beside Loria as Caius circled the virgin and made his plans. “She knows her place,” Caius remarked seeing Rosaura’s surrendering essence in her untrained but wholly submissive pose. “She’ll be much easier than you were,” he declared to Charlotte.

“I’m sure, sir,” she agreed.

“You’ll whip her first,” he announced.

“So soon?”

Caius stared at Charlotte with a steely eye, the first such glance she’d seen from the dungeon-master in many months. Their paths rarely crossed except for those few times in the last year when Mountbane sent her to be flogged. However, that hadn’t happened in nearly five months since Mountbane had given her up to the chastity belt.

“Do I need to retrain you before I train her?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Charlotte said stepping forward. She was no Gwnyth, and was unaccustomed to the procedures or feelings of command. It felt almost unholy taking the whip from Caius’ hand and circling the young maid. But she would take on the task. “Stand,” she ordered.

The girl rose. Her tears were so sweet that Charlotte wanted to take her in her arms, not abuse her body, but the command had been given.

“Please assist me, Loria,” she turned to Caius’ slave with the gentle order.

Soundlessly, Loria came forward and took Rosaura’s hands in hers, wrapping them with leather. Seeing the girl naked, Charlotte had to wonder why this young maid had balked so little when she was forced to disrobe. That had been the worst of Charlotte’s initial trials, but then, of course, this virgin was a different sort of woman. She was self-conscious, yes, but she had not uttered one word of protest. Only now, she seemed distressed as she faced the first torment.

Strung to the ceiling, the splendor of her body was only enhanced by the extreme posture. Her hips seemed more voluptuous, her breasts—though drawn up—appeared more fully rounded. To attest to the desire that was building in her body, both nipples were now engorged and purple—either the chill or desire turning them into buds that demanded tongue and teeth to suckle them.

In time, in time, Charlotte thought to herself.
This may require more restraint than she believed possible.

Discovering the virgin’s beautiful backside, Charlotte admired how the line of Rosaura’s body moved so flowingly from shoulders to her clipped waist, only to swell into two fine cheeks of flesh. Charlotte began there, first whisking the whip along the skin; and then with a little more bravery, she began spanking the talons against the reddening flesh. A dozen, two dozen on her ass, then more strikes yet on her back. This whip was more sensuous than biting, but it allowed her skin to burn and the submissive to feel her first taste of a lash.

“Heavier!” Caius ordered.

Charlotte struck more fiercely and the girl began to cry—to even beg. Her tears were flowing, but so was the juice between her thighs.

Such strange desire flowed through the Lady Charlotte as she wielded the whip against the girl. How could this happen? Were these feelings a product of her unsatisfied lust? Or was it just the uniqueness of this venture that caused her body to flush with sexual desire? Charlotte wasn’t given time to figure out the full truth, however. Just as she was getting into her rhythm, Caius called for her to stop. Breathing heavily from the task, curiously winded and weary, she handed the implement to the master; and then stepped back. She watched the remainder of the scene as Caius ordered Lorio to eat away at the girl’s virgin snatch, while he continued to mount an offense against what little pride remained in her yielding flesh.

Rosaura took a savage and yet sensuous beating. Much like Charlotte’s first, it lulled the girl into expectations of even greater carnal thrills by such devices. She would learn soon, however, that all whips would not bite as sweetly as this one, or be brandished with such finesse. All such devices would not be designed to demonstrate her pleasure. Charlotte did imagine that this sinless child of Ilusia would not require the kind of punishment that she had in order to win her complete surrender and have her properly trained for the life she would lead.

As the whipping ended, Loria remained at the center of the young woman’s female crest, bringing her to the summit of her first powerful orgasm under such restraints. Once freed from bondage, Rosaura slumped limply to the ground.

In the days that followed, it was Lady Charlotte’s task to demonstrate the poses of submission for the dungeon’s newest initiate. The lady marveled at how easily Rosaura seemed to understand each position and the attitude required of her.

One afternoon, Charlotte was startled to see Mountbane enter the dungeon for an inspection.

“Present my slaves, Caius.”

“Yes, milord.”

The dungeon master had little to do but wave his hand and all of his uncaged slaves scampered to toe an imaginary line before their high lord. Lorio, Charlotte and Rosaura joined five others in the pose of inspection, standing with their hands clasped behind their heads, their eyes meekly downcast.

“What this? Clothes?” he spewed derisively as he came to Lady Charlotte. He pinched her chin and sneered into her face. “Take them off.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. While Mountbane watched with his most critical gaze, she swiftly disrobed. Once naked as her sister slaves—except for the chastity belt—she took her place beside the others, hands gripped behind her neck. Her proud breasts stood out, heaving erotically—nipples erect.

“That’s better. While you serve in my dungeon, you’ll serve as a slave. Caius, a collar!”

A thick iron neckband appeared, quickly snapped about Charlotte’s throat.

“Even better,” Mountbane jibed. “Now come forward.”

Maintaining her pose, Charlotte took three steps toward her husband and stopped.

“This, slaves,” he said pointing to the chastity harness, “is what the price of disobedience will cost you. There is no sexual satisfaction for a slave who does not adhere to the discipline you learn here. The Lady Charlotte knows the pain of being denied.” He sneered, and then reaching for a key attached to his belt, he unlocked the belt and threw it to the side. Gripping Charlotte’s pubis in his fist, he shook the vulva noting how the humbled woman gasped. A fire of climax would rip through her with just seconds of such play, but Mountbane had no intention of allowing her to cum. His decree still in force, the beastly blackguard teased the untouched folds of Charlotte’s flesh until her body nearly erupted. Just before the first spasms hit, however, he stopped, withdrew his hand and left her haunted by the ending he refused to give her. Plaguing her with this monstrous torture, he denied her three times more. Her eyes swam with anxious tears, and her lips moistened as did her pussy. She was hard-pressed to maintain her pose with so much energy flowing through her needy body. Every muscle in her trembled, every vein was primed for a crashing finish. But the man was adept at such cruel devices; and knowing this woman well, he denied her once again.

Charlotte might have begged if it had been the two of them alone in the room; but such a breach of slave etiquette before the other slaves would only bring down a more wrathful punishment, and surely jeopardize her dream of freedom.

“Now, give her back the belt.”
 
Mountbane stood before her while Loria obeyed the command. Speaking directly into Charlotte’s face, he laid on his last insult, “We wouldn’t want your body to grow cold now, would we? Then, this purgatory would be no punishment at all.”

“No, milord,” she whispered.

“So, tell me,” he changed his mood to one far more sunny. “How is our fair virgin?”

“She learns quickly, sir,” Charlotte replied.

“And when can I see her?”

“At your leisure.”

“Caius, you agree? Is this new slave ready for her service to my realm?”

“Being yet a virgin, she is yet untried in her sexual duties, but she knows the meaning of surrender. I have little more to teach her.”

Mountbane nodded happily, and nodding to the dungeon master, he left.

d

Some days later Charlotte and Rosaura left the dungeon. It had taken just a few short weeks to have the girl ready for Mountbane.

“So, wife, I must woo the woman,” Mountbane said as he caught up with Charlotte. She was making her way to the market on a mission for the castle cook.

“It would have been better had she not seen the way you punished me,” she replied.

“Did she take offense?”

“She has a sensitive spirit and is quite fond of me.”

“Perhaps so, but she needs to toughen her spirit,” he charged defensively. “This is not an easy place for gentle souls. She must learn to bear a simple remonstration without flinching.”

“That was hardly simple, sir!”

“And how’s that? I didn’t lay a harmful finger on your body.”

“But your wrath for me was undisguised. Your cruelty burgeoned.”

“And she must understand that, too.”

“I thought this venture was about caring—about love? Wasn’t that what motivated you to woo her in the first place?”

“And my desire for her has not waned. In fact, it’s grown so that I can hardly have a whore or harpy, I’m so intent on having her.”

“Then be nice to her, treat her with kindness, woo her with gentleness. Have her to supper, send her flowers, feed her candies one by one, and follow them with a kiss to her mouth. Torture her with feathers and listen to her heart.”

“She doesn’t like the harsher means of love?”

“She loves that, too. But she wants a man who knows her heart as well as he can predict the sexual tremors in her body. Command her, yes. Insist, rule, instruct and discipline, but let her see what power you have for kindness, what great skill you have at sexual seduction. Instead of exposing your vengeful nature, drag up the softer one from the depths where it’s so well hidden in the bowels of your being. Woo her with that.”

“You mock me woman,” he said. His eyes lit sharply.