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?'