0 comments/  22477 views/  0 favorites

Ballo in Maschera Ch. 01

By: Cavalliere



Venice at Carnevale is another world. The mist lies on the canals. Away from the Grand canal, the alleys are dark and ill lit. Through this murky evening hurry two figures. Both wearing long, hooded cloaks. The first, taller figure is an eighteenth-century Cavalliere, with the mask of Casanova, and wearing a tricorn. Following him closely, her fur-trimmed hood hiding her face, his companion walks with small, bustling steps. She is glad for the warmth of the cloak, other than her shoes, it is all she wears. Her hands are tightly bound behind her back with soft rope, and all that fastens the cloak is the single clasp at her throat.

They stop at a doorway. He knocks, and the door opens to a crack, yellow light spilling from within. The door opens wide, and they are beckoned in. The doorman is similarly masked, as Pulcinello, the carnival grotesque. He embraces the man and they kiss in the Italian style. She waits quietly behind. 'Step out of your shoes and approach me,' commands Pulcinello, 'Kneel.' She obeys, silently. The two men leave, and she is alone on the tiled floor. It feels warm under her knees. 

She is aware of a presence behind her. Her hood is pulled back, and the clasp unfastened. Still she casts her eyes to the floor. The cloak is drawn away, and the odalisque moves in front of her. Another mask, the full faced white mask of the carnival. The effect is of a china doll, with a feminine silhouette enhanced with a boned bodice and a full, hooped skirt. Long satin gloves cover her arms to just above the elbow, and a half-inch red ribbon is tied in a bow at her throat. She crouches slightly, and lifting her chin with a gloved hand, strokes the face of the bound woman. 'You are Maria?.' She nods. 'I am to prepare you for what is to come. You may leave now if you desire, but if you stay, there is to be no turning back. Do you understand?' Again, Maria nods, unable to take her eyes from the expressionless face.

'You are pretty, and I can see the need in your eyes.' She is not lying. Already Maria feels the tightening in her chest and the warmth in her belly. The doll reaches down, satin fingers brushing Maria's now-erect nipples, tracing her flanks to her hip, and across to her mound. Maria shudders. She has never been touched like this by a woman. She is aware that her breathing is fast and shallow, her body more alive with the slow and deliberate approach. 

She twists her wrists, and the gloved hand returns to her cheek. She cannot tell where the steady gaze behind the mask is falling. 'Sssh, cara mia, there is no point in struggling.' The hand falls again, to her nipple, circling it, then pinching hard. Maria opens her mouth to breathe in before she screams, but from behind, a large and soft leather ball is pulled into her mouth and fastened behind her head with a thick strap. She whimpers and struggles. The strong hands, a man's, in soft leather gloves take her upper arms while the odalisque continues to trace circles round her nipples. She calms, and the grip relaxes. Maria feels rope being wound around her upper arms, just above the elbow and drawn tight. Her breasts are forced up and apart with the strain at her arms. A thick velvet cloth is tied across her eyes, and her helplessness is complete.

Strong hands lift her by the arms and she struggles to find her feet. The familiar voice again, 'walk.' She takes a tentative step forward, and another. The grip on her arms relaxes, but is still there. The temperature changes, and the floor surface feels like wood. A gloved hand at her chest, 'stop.' A slight creaking noise, and upwards pressure at her wrists, forcing her forward, off balance. She cries out, but a very muffled whimper is all that escapes. Again, the gloved hand at her cheek, and a whispered 'ssh, quiet, cara mia. You will not fall.'

She is now bent over, her head down. More rope, this time around her ankles, which are spread around shoulder-width apart and attached, to cold iron, which she feels against her skin. The feeling of openness accentuated by the satin gloved hand which traces the round globes of her buttocks and reaches inward, brushing her sex. The touch is electrifying, but again her cries are mere whimpers and her struggles bring only more tension at her wrists. 

Silence, she is alone. Time stands still in the darkness. The unmistakable swish of a cane or swith, a crack and stifled whimpers. But no pain. She is not alone. Twice more, the terrible noise. Another woman is being beaten. Muffled whimpers and moans, shuffling noises, whispering and murmuring. The creak of rope and again the swish of a cane. This time it lands on her thighs, and the pain sears through her very being. It is her turn to feel the lash.

Ballo in Maschera Ch. 02



I brought the crop down sharply on her white behind. It left a red weal. As far as she could, Maria leapt and pulled against the ropes. The muffled sound that passed through the gag sounded like 'One.' 

I had whipped her before, and had always taught her to count the strokes. This was not lost on Lucrezia, who was standing next to Maria's face. She stroked Maria's cheek with a gloved hand, gently whispering, 

'Your master has taught you well.'

The second stroke was delayed. I was waiting for Maria to relax, before delivering a sharp stroke to her upper thigh. It is best to vary the timing of a whipping; it alows the slut's discomfort to be fully appreciated. Again, she seemed to be counting. Lucrezia put a hand to each of Maria's cheeks. 

'One more' she whispered, 'You will thank us.'

The third stroke crossed the soft flesh of her behind, leaving a long red weal. Again, Maria counted, and the whimper from behind the gag could have been a 'thank you.' I could smell her arousal, and paused to drink in the familiar scent.

Lucrezia knelt to unbind Maria's ankles, and I released the rope pulling her wrists toward the ceiling. She stumbled slightly, but found her feet. I released the gag strap, and Lucrezia pulled the soft leather padding from Maria's mouth. Maria breathed deeply through her mouth. She was clearly breathing hard with the arousal and pain, and the gag had not helped. I released her wrists and elbows from the ropes, and taking her right arm, guided her from the room.

Lucrezia had preceded us, and brought a box to me. The first item was a collar, of thick black rubber. It was fully three inches high at its lowest point, but deeper at the front, where a single large steel ring was fixed. The top and bottom of the collar were padded in softer rubber, where it fitted snugly under Maria's chin. From behind, I fitted the collar snugly, locking it in place at the back with two small padlocks. I had collared her before, and I could feel her relax as she felt the token of her ownership. The collar was much higher than any she had worn before, and she was clearly coming to terms with the immobility of her head. She could not raise or lower her head, and could hardly turn it to either side.

Next was a pair of wrist cuffs, again of thick black rubber and two ankle cuffs. These locked with small padlocks, and had smaller steel rings sewn into them. I removed the blindfold. Blinking against the light, Maria looked at the mask that Lucrezia was holding up. I was of black rubber, this time thin and supple; it would cover the face to the upper lip. It had eyeholes, so that Maria would be able to see, but was clearly designed to fit around her whole head, buckling at the back. Lucrezia showed her where it could be locked in place like the collar and cuffs. It was not intended to be released by its wearer. Maria shuddered, but knew better than to resist as I pulled her hair into a ponytail, which Lucrezia took through a small hole at the back of the mask, pulling the face down over Maria's face, leaving only her mouth and eyes visible. The buckles were pulled tight and the padlocks used to secure it.

Lucrezia pulled Maria's hands together in front of her, clipping the rings together, and pulling her forwards to a low table. She attached Maria's wrists to the table with a snap clip, and walked behind her, stroking her reddened arse with a gloved hand. Maria shuddered. Her arousal was clear. I passed Lucrezia the corset which she drew tight round Maria's waist. 

'Breathe in my little slut, it is the discipline that you crave.' 

With each breath in, the corset was drawn closer, until Lucrezia was content. I noticed, for the first time, that the 'lace' was of chain, and Lucrezia passed another small padlock though the links, securing it in place. She released Maria's hands from the table. and turned her round to face me. The corset reached from just above her mound to just below her full and white breasts. With the black rubber of the costume, she presented an overpoweringly erotic sight. 

'Turn again, slut.' 

Maria obeyed. The mirror of the far wall had been covered with a curtain, which had been drawn. Maria, for the first time, saw herself. She instinctively tried to cover her breasts and sex, but Lucrezia merely laughed, 

'Such modesty! You must become used to your nakedness. Now kneel, and put your head to the floor, hands behind your back. Knees wider, slut.' 

Maria hurried to comply. I clipped her hands at her back. 

Maria's head was to one side, and as Lucrezia stooped down, she showed her a short, but thick rubber dildo. It was shaped and veined, just like a penis, but had a flared end with a steel ring. 

'Lick this, slut, just as you will lick the masters' cocks tonight.' 

Maria whimpered as she did so, sucking needfully on the rubber. When it was suitably wet, Lucrezia passed it back to me, holding another to Maria's lips. I slipped the rubber cock into her pussy, which offered no resistance. The response was more whimpering, and some very dedicated sucking. I pulled the dildo from her pussy, and pushed it, slick with her juices, into her rosy little anus. Had she not been sucking on the second dildo, she would have screamed aloud with pleasure. The second dildo was passed to me, and I slipped it into her pussy, filling the void. This one was slightly longer and thicker, but again had the steel loop. A section of chain was attached to the back of the corset, and I passed this through the loops of the dildos , pulling it tight to hold the dildos snug.

'Kneel up!' 

The tears of need were visible in Maria's eyes. 

'Open your mouth!' A thick rubber ring was inserted, holding her mouth open. The straps for this gag fastened to her mask. Another dildo rapidly followed, and was again locked in place. 

'Lie, face down.' 

She complied. Lucrezia turned to me, 

'She is a natural slut. Have you had to whip her well?' 

Maria squirmed with humiliation and arousal. I took a long spreader bar, and fastened each end to Maria's ankles, pulling them up behind her to attach each of her wrists to short chains at either end of the bar. She was utterly helpless and open as we left her on the floor.



Ballo in Maschera Ch. 03



I had seen myself briefly in the mirror. My face was obscured with blck rubber, my waist, constricted in the corset was the narrow waist of a woman of a century earlier. My head was held high by the thick collar. It was not me who looked back. More than anything, it was this realisation that sent a thrill through my entire being. Master had promised me that my face would be seen only by Him and one other. It had to be that way, otherwise I would never allow myself to slip fully into my own space. I liked it that way too. It was being able to be someone else that had always excited me about my bondage. I was able to do all the things that a nice girl shouldn't.

I had not been masked when Master introduced me to Lucrezia, an old friend, he said. He had me kneel, naked save my collar in front of her, and forced me to tell her my deepest fantasies. I had blushed deep red as I told the immaculately suited woman of my desire to be used and humiliated, to feel the discipline of bondage. She had not spoken to me, only discussing me in the third person with Master. She had called me slut. The humiliation only fired the heat in my belly. When she left, He had taken me, hard. 

I realised, with the order to kneel, that the china doll must be Lucrezia. Just knowing that she knew fired my humiliation. She had watched me whipped, and felt my arousal. Numbly I knelt, sucking hard on the rubber that was offered to my mouth. The feeling of fullness as my sex and my behind were plugged was overwhelming. The gag was welcome. It adds a new dimension to my helplessness to be unable to speak, but the ring holding my mouth open could only be for one thing. As if in preparation, a third rubber penis was pushed into my mouth, filling it with the bitter taste of rubber. Pushed forward, I felt myself hogtied, the tension at my legs pulling the chain in my nether regions taut, driving the plugs in and rubbing at my clit unbearably. Master loves to watch me struggle when I am tied this way, but I could not move with the constriction and the spreader bar. I felt the saliva pooling in my mouth; the only way to swallow was to fellate this thick rubber penis. My feelings of humiliation grew, overpowering me, and adding to my arousal.

They left the room. I am sure I heard Lucrezia laugh.

I was alone in the room. I cold hardly move my head, and could see little more than the floor, covered with black rubber. I could hear very little through the hood that covered my ears. The tension in my wrists and legs was hard to bear, but every movement moved the plugs filling me. It felt hot in the hood and the corset, and I could feel the sweat gathering. I had no choice but to suck enthusiastically on the penis shaped gag. I could not help but allow my thoughts to wander. 

I wondered who I had heard beaten. It had been another woman. Whether she, like me had heard another beaten before her? Whether another had heard me beaten before being left to her fate? Whether anyone had seen? I had never witnessed a whipping, but the thought of watching a helplessly bound slut twisting in her bonds and screaming out against the thick gag, or biting down into it was driving me on. I imagined the gloved hand that had stroked my face, and imagined lucrezia's arousal. My master, if it had been he, would have loved the power he wielded, and loved the response from me. He often told me how much he loved the whimpers I made through the ball gags he had used on me. I twisted and turned as far as I could, rubbing the rubber and the chain against me, feeling the arousal build towards a climax. I could feel myself coming, a slow and gradual, but deep and intense orgasm. 

A sharp tug at my hair stopped me short. My wrists were momentarily released from the bar, but were fastened together behind me again and I was pulled to my knees. Three men stood before me, all dressed alike, just as my master had been. 

'You are a superb slut', said the first, his English heavily accented, Even through the arousal, I blushed, suddenly aware of my nakedness and my helplessness. Another tug at my hair pulled my head back, and the penis gag was pulled from my mouth. The first man stepped towards me, freeing his large, erect cock from his breeches. Another tug backwards at my hair and the cock was pushed into my open mouth, held open by the ring. Thankfully, he did not thrust.

'Suck it, bitch!' ordered a male voice at my ear. 

It was hard, and hot, and the taste of precum replaced the tang of the rubber. He was clearly close to his own climax, and shot hot cum into my mouth. I tried to swallow, but he had pulled his cock from my mouth. My head, and my whole upper body were pulled forwards and down by my hair. Unable to close my mouth and swallow, the salty fluid dripped from my open mouth. At the same time, the anal plug was removed, and dropped to the floor, its weight on the chain pulling the dildo from my sex. My ankles were freed of the spreader bar, but I felt the rough wool of the man's breeches at my thighs and the head of his cock at my open anus as my head was held firm by the hair. The humiliation and arousal were too much to bear. I started to come as he entered me, feeling the pain and pleasure as he stretched me. I was still orgasming as he finished, filling my arse with hot come. I felt it dribbling down my chin and thighs more than I heard the applause of the four men. They left me lying on my side, hands bound behind my back. I had never felt so used, but had never felt so fulfilled.



Ballo in Maschera Ch. 04



La Passagiata

The men left the room, joking amongst themselves. Maria lay where they had left her. I had watched her with her Master from the moment that we left her alone. The room she was in was a room within a room. The filigree on its walls was just a screen through which spectators in the darkened space behind could watch. The bright lights in the inner room were enough to make the false walls seem solid. Her master was obviously aroused. A slut, masked and corseted in red rubber was busy sucking on his erect penis. He held her head into his groin and moaned softly as he came. She was the property of one of the men who had just used his woman so well. It had been she who had been whipped when Maria first entered the room. It is good to allow a small foretaste of what is to come. Fear heightens the reactions, anticipation the arousal. Maria had been close to coming from the minute we left her, hogtied and plugged. She had known that the plugs would only be removed so that she could be used.

I entered the room, making enough noise that Maria strained against the collar to look around. She was still dribbling cum from the side of her mouth, and clearly showed the signs of her recent use. I put down the bowl of hot water, and the towel. I unbuckled the gag from her mask, and released her wrists. 

'You may wash.'

'Thank you, mistress.'

She splashed her face with water, rubbing her mouth with the towel. She hesitated before washing her behind and sex.

'Do not be shy. It is endearing, but unbecoming in a slave like you.'

She blushed behind the mask, and washed. 

'Kneel.' 

She obeyed. Instantly. She had been very well trained. I recognised my first time at the Palazzo. It had been difficult, but I had hardly left the place since. She was beautiful too. Full lips, breasts like alabaster with rosy pink nipples. Her waist was small, even before the corset had cinched it in, and her hips were wide.

'Hands behind your head'

She was so compliant. Normally I prefer a little resistance, but there was something in this English girl's obedience that made it all the more endearing. I picked up the long chain leash from where I had set it down. It just clipped to the hasp ring in her collar. Holding it tight, I tugged gently upwards. She rose to her feet, her arms still in position.

'Do not move'

I clicked my fingers, and another slut entered, carrying a large box. She was the one who had just serviced Maria's Master, and was dressed identically, but in red rubber, which had been locked onto her body. All the masters at the Palazzo are dressed alike, but the slaves are dressed to suit their shape and colouring. The masters prefer to be able to identify their property, and want to display it to its best effect. She set the box down behind Maria, who shivered noticeably. Her lips opened slightly.

'Yes?'

She shook her head, as if denying she wanted to speak. 

'Very well, we shall continue'

The first item from the box was a short length of very light chain. At either end was a single clover-leaf clamp. My assistant held this behind Maria, and I placed a gloved hand on each of her nipples. She shuddered, but I could feel them hardening. I reached behind her to take the proffered nipple chain, treading it through the loop on the collar before clipping it to first her right nipple, and then her left. I was so taken with the way that the chain depended from her collar to either nipple, and the leash fell to the floor that I ignored her sharp intake of breath. I stood back, and caressed the sensitised nipples again. She moaned, obviously trying hard to keep position. 

I took the next items from the box myself. I wanted Maria to have the choice. There were six disks of stainless steel, each about two inches across, and engraved with a motto. I placed the face down on the floor. 

'Choose any one of these, Maria. We must take the passagiata tonight, and the disk will decide your evening.'

She looked at them, and in a faltering voice said, 'The disk at the right hand end.'

I picked it up. 'Do you read Italian?'

'No'

'Good. I will not translate. You will find out.'

The disk clipped to the collar ring. It said, loosely translated. 'Use me hard. If I do not obey, whip me well.'

'You may put your hands at your side.'

The next item was a long, tight dress of satin. It wrapped around her corseted waist and tied tightly. A long, hooded cape of the same material was next. It shaded her face, but would brush against her sensitised nipples, causing exquisite arousal. She held the cape tightly around her. If she did not, it would expose her naked and clamped breasts.

'We will now start the Passagiata.'

I took the chain leash, holding it tight to her throat. We left the room, and passed down a corridor. A heavy door at the end was clearly locked, and at our approach, Pulchinello, the doorman appeared. Realisation seemed to dawn. 

'We are leaving the Palazzo. It is traditional. All Venice loves to take the Passagiata. You may meet the masters. You will know who they are. You will submit to them.'

She was clearly having second thoughts.

'You will be safe. I will not leave you, and you may stop me. You know how.'

She swallowed hard, and nodded as far as the high collar allowed. I was getting more aroused by the minute, and I knew I would have her as soon as we got back to the Palazzo. I took a tight grip on the leash, but allowed her some more slack. The door was opened, and we stepped out into the night. 



Ballo in Maschera Ch. 05



We had not long left the palazzo, Maria and I, walking through the dark alleyways. Venice at night is always disorienting; there is no horizon, and there are no landmarks to be seen in the half-light. At Carnival, no one took a second look at the hooded figure following close behind me. She seemed to have realised that heeling me closely, the chain leash was almost hidden in the folds of her cloak. Her mask was hidden behind the hood. A couple of the local young men had called out 'Ciao, Bella' as we passed, whether for me or her I do not know. We had continued briskly on, turning into a particularly small alleyway.

This group were different. It was a group of four or five men, approaching us and blocking the way ahead. The slight tension on the chain told me that Maria was hesitant. The first man approached closely enough for me to see he was dressed as Il Dottore, the plague doctor. His mask had a long nose, like a crow's beak, giving him a sinister aspect. 

'Give me the leash.' 

I knew better than to argue, and obeyed. 

'Kneel before me, head to the floor.' He was talking to me. I spread my skirt and knelt, the chill of the stone pavement reminding me of what Maria's bare feet were feeling. I put my head to the floor, hands before me, wrists crossed at my waist. He walked past me, tightening his grip on Maria's leash as he took in the slack. 

The others walked past me. I heard the metal gate at the entrance of the alley swing shut. I knew it was barred, but passers by would be able to see, even if they could not enter the alley. I felt the hoop on my skirt lifted, exposing my nakedness from behind to the cold air. I have some privileges, but am no less a slave than the bound sluts that the masters deliver. 

I then heard them taking her. In turn, one at a time. I remembered my first time on the Passagiata. I was used by three men, once in each hole while they had discussed my finer points, my responses, my failings. Cruelly, they had not allowed me to climax. I had been chained, hands behind my back and wrists fastened to a waist chain. Taken back to the palazzo and freed to wash, my chains had been replaced and I had been kennelled for the night, I had to enter the small chamber on my knees, as I had left it in the morning. I had discovered in the darkness of the night not only the purpose of the chains, but my craving for the discipline to which I submitted. I knew what Maria was feeling, the pain, the humiliation, the exquisite pleasure and release of submission. Since then, I had often taken a new slut on the Passagiata, and knelt in abject submission at the order of Il Dottore, my arousal burning deep in my belly, feeling the denial of years before. My release would come tonight. Maria's last submission would be to me. Her beautiful mouth would bring me the climax that I needed.

Unusually, I felt hands at my hips, and a leather-gloved hand between my legs. 

'You enjoy this, Lucrezia, don't you?' 

The hand moved over my mound, parting my lips to find my swollen clit. I whimpered. I was incapable of speech. The hand continued to circle my sex. 

'You seem to have forgotten yourself. We must remind you of your place.'

I was puzzled. My bodice was unlaced, and I was pulled upright. Il Dottore pulled the bodice from me. A chain was passed round my waist and pulled tight. With a click it was fastened. Padlocked probably at the small of my back. I was pushed forward again. Something cold was placed over my mound. It seemed like metal, curved to follow the contours of my body. It was pushed snugly against me, and another chain brought up between my legs, between my buttocks and fastened, probably another padlock, at the small of my back. It was a chastity belt. Nothing would be able to touch my sex.

'Lucrezia, you must remember who you are . You are obedient, but you seem to have forgotten the discipline that you have learned. You will be kept in the iron belt for a week. For that time, you will retain your usual duties, but at the end of each day, you will kneel before me and request your punishment. I will allow you to choose, but if I feel that your self-discipline is insufficient, and that you choose lightly, I shall choose a punishment of my own to administer after that of your choice. Do you understand?'

'Master?'

'You try my patience. Bring her back. I shall discipline you immediately. Do not forget your dress.'

The chain leash was thrust into my hand. I rose to my feet, the hooped skirt falling to the floor. Dressed only in satin gloves and my mask, and carrying my dress, I felt more naked than ever. I looked back. Maria was still a vision in black, kneeling in submission. She smoothed her skirt down and pulled her cape tight. I stood, pulling hard on the leash, jerking her to her feet. It was not far to the palazzo; the gated alleyway led in a few short steps to its door, but we were kept waiting there. Eventually, the door opened and we were let in. Pulcinello, the door keeper padlocked Maria's leash to a ring on the wall just inside the door. He turned to look at me.

'You must strip. Il Dottore has said he will see you utterly naked save for the iron belt.'



Ballo in Maschera Ch. 06



'You see, my pretty little one, we have our ways of teaching you the discipline that you master has, regrettably only begun to instill in you.'

Maria knelt, knees apart, hands on her thighs. After Pulcinello had returned to her last night, she had been freed of her bonds and her mask, and allowed to bathe and eat. She had been collared and given a hooded robe, similar to that she had worn when she arrived, and had been kennelled for the night. The kennel had not been uncomfortable. Long enough to lie in, and high enough to stand; it was floor with leather, and there were blankets enough to stay warm and comfortable. The door was low enough that she could only enter or exit on hands and knees, the reason for which she had guessed at, but only fully realised when she had been leashed like a dog on all fours as she was allowed out in the morning. Pulcinello had then pulled back the hood on her robe and pulled a mask of soft leather, close fitting like the rubber mask, and lacing at the back to hold it snug. Again her hair had been gathered and pulled into a ponytail through a loop at the back. She had been pulled, roughly to her feet by the leash, and led to a pannelled room in the pallazo. There she knelt in front of a raised dias on which a chair stood.

She recognised the voice of Il Dottore, though he had discarded the full mask for a smaller and lighter one of black velvet that covered the upper part of his face.

'You have heard of the three degrees of torture?'

She shook her head. Somehow, the words seemed to stick in her mouth, and her lips moved noiselessly.

'It described the practice of the Inquisition in the sixteenth century. No matter, we have refined it. The first degree was to tell someone what ordeal they faced. The second was to have them watch it done to another. The third degree, if it was necessary, was then to carry it out.'

She nodded, swallowing hard. Still the words would not come and she licked her lips anxiously.

'You have experienced the first two degrees. We know that the mind conjures greater fears than the body can experience. When you arrived you were bound and blindfolded?'

She nodded again, beginning to squirm; the gaze she was under was unwavering. The robe may as well have been of gauze for the protection it offered.

'You heard another new arrival cropped?'

A nod, and another nervous swallow. The memories brought back a knot of fear, anticipation and arousal.

'Master. I heard muffled cries of pain. I knew she was gagged as I was, and I waited to feel the crop myself. I had never been cropped before. The pain was electrifying, but the anticipation was terrible, knowing that there was nothing I could do in my helplessness.'

'Exactly. Our first degree is to let you experience the dread and the fear of knowing and not knowing. Our second is to allow to feel, momentarily, to taste for an instant the sensation. We may yet take you to your breaking point, but you must know that your punishments are to be feared. Your discipline will be based on rewards and punishment. You will experience further degrees of ordeal before you leave us.'

'May I ask a question, Master?'

'You may, though I might not answer.'

'My use last night, was that a further degree of my ordeal?'

'No. It was for our amusement. In the widest sense it was, as you will come to learn that your are our plaything, and that you will be use, mercilessly and brutally if we desire, but we simply wanted to use you for our pleasure.'

'Thank you, master.'

She was becoming aroused again. Surely this man could see that in her breathing, in the flush of her skin. Possibly even in the scent of her readiness for him. The mask felt hot and oppressive, but at least it hid the blush of her cheeks from his view.

'Do you remember Lucrezia, the first girl?'

'Master?'

'She has displeased me. She has forgotten her place as one of my slaves. I have decided that she should be punished. She is no longer first girl, and she will be punished every day for the next two weeks. I have allowed her to choose her own punishment. You will see how far I value perfect obedience in my women. Now go.'

He pointed to the door behind him. Maria stood, the leash depending from her collar. She curtseyed to him, as Pulcinello had told her. Walking to the door, she was met my Pulcinello. He took the leash and led her into the hallway. 

'Cross your wrists!'

Her wrists were quickly and tightly bound with rope, the ends of which he took up and attached to the ring on her collar, fastening her helpless wrists at her throat. He took a large red ballgag and pushed it into her mouth, buckling it at either side of her mask. A leather blindfold followed, also buckled to the mask. He untied the robe and removed it before leading her out into the yard. He pushed her to her knees, directly in front of a thick wooden post, on top of which was an iron ring, surrounded by thick leather padding. The leash was tied through the iron ring, being knotted safely out of reach halfway down the post. Maria was held fast on her knees, her neck and bound hands against the padded post. 

The blindfold was removed, and Maria found herself face to face with an identically bound and gagged woman. They faced each other, inches apart. Maria saw recognition dawn in the other's eyes, and saw the panic that followed. Lucrezia was facing humiliation before a private, but select audience. She squirmed in her bonds, uselessly twisting her wrists and whimpering incoherently behind the gag. Pulcinello laughed, and left the courtyard, leaving the bound slaves together. 



Ballo in Maschera Ch. 07



A man, in the uniform of black breeches, shirt and Casanova mask entered the courtyard behind Lucrezia. In his hand, he held a long cane, with which he carelessly stroked Lucrezia's protruding behind. She struggled, a string of profanities audible only as whimpers.

'You have forgotten your manners, my little one. You are a superb trainer of women, but you must remember that you, too, are subject to the same inflexible discipline. It is for that reason that we will punish you in the sight of your latest, and finest pupil.'

More muffled curses.

'I suggest that you keep a civil tongue in your head, my dear. It will only be worse for you otherwise.'

Sullen silence.

'You will know, that when you became our new first girl, that you witnessed the punishment of your successor, and were given her as your plaything?'

A low groan from behind the gag.

'I have thought long and hard. It would do little good to whip you now. I think that denial will be a much better torment for you. You may learn a little of discipline. But to remind you of what you will miss until we decide that you are ready, you may witness, at first hand, the ravishment of our new first girl.'

It was Maria's turn to struggle and whimper in fear.

The cane was at her cheek, turning her head to him. 'Do not fear; you will reach peaks of pleasure that you could never have imagined. But first, there are some adjustments to make.'

He released the ropes holding her collar to the post and her wrists to her collar. 

'Stand. Hands on your head.'

There must have been others behind her. She felt the familiar hardness of the rubber corset. It was cinched tight, surely tighter than before. She eard the chain it was laced with. This time there were three padlocks clicked shut, not just the one. It hurt, constricting her breathing, but at the same time it supported her. Her breasts felt gloriously free above it. She was beginning to understand the meaning of the conversation about discipline. The gag was removed, and replaced with one shaped like a short and thick penis. She was shown the mask. It was the beautiful china doll, impassive and ageless, that had faced her when she first arrived. It was placed over her face and buckled at four points to the leather hood. There were small eyeholes, enough to see straight ahead. With the collar and corset, the sense of confinement was almost overwhelming. She could feel herself slipping deeper and deeper into another world.

'Arms at your side' Her own passivity was beginning to scare her. How could she just let this happen, and how could it be so arousing? A second set of cuffs were buckled just above her elbows. 'Legs apart.' Another pair buckled to her thighs, just above the knee, and another, one to each ankle.

'Arms up.' Just being directed so curtly, and dressed, was uncontrollably arousing. The dress was dropped over her head, blacking out her vision momentarily. The rustle of silk and the feel of the material at her bare legs told her that she was being dressed; a long dress, buttoned at the back. It was pulled down over her breasts, leaving them bare.

Her arms were pulled behind her. What felt like one end of a rigid bar was clipped to a loop at the back of her collar. She knew it would be held with a small padlock. Her elbows, and then her wrists were drawn, painfully, together and locked to the bar, the end of which was violently lifted, forcing her to double over. The constriction of the corset grew worse; with the gag, it was hard to breathe. The skirt was obviously hoped, she felt it lifted easily, then felt the insertion of a large, soft and cold anal plug. She whimpered as it was pushed in, the lubricated plug growing ever wider, until it narrowed and her grateful ring closed around it, holding it in place. A larger, similarly shaped plug was pushed into her wet slit. Her legs were pushed together, and her thigh cuffs attached with a padlock, holding the twin intruders firmly in place. The skirt was dropped back. Standing in front of her, the man pulled and stroked at her nipples. The pleasure was cut short but the sharp nip of sprung clamps. The bodice was pulled back over her breasts. The mingling of pleasure and pain was almost too much to bear. A half-imagined voice at her ear whispered, 'Even in your finery, you are still the plaything of your lusts.'

'Knees!' The command was emphasised by a sharp push on the bar at her collar. Strong hands caught her as she fell off balance, and helped her down gently. The end of the bar to which her collar and wrists were attached was padlocked to the ankle cuffs, holding her helpless on her knees, head angled forward in submission.

She was dimly aware of photographs being taken, the noise of the shutter and the flash, but the presence of the three intruders, the confinement of the mask, corset and collar and the rigidity of her enforced posture were overwhelming her senses. Even the previously unbearable pain of the clamps was subsiding into the overall warmth of her orgasm. Then she felt the rubber plugs and gag begin to swell and deflate rhythmically. They must have been the inflatable toys she had heard of. Just the thought was enough to tip her over the edge. 

The man knelt down to Lucrezia,. 'How long do you think she will keep herself coming for? One hour? Longer?'