The Surrender of Lady Charlotte by Lizbeth Dusseau Read Free Book Online
Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau
gripped and would not let go.
Thinking this the worst of all suffering, she soon learned that her woes were just beginning. Having removed the bonds at her feet, her captors had her step into the chain-mail pants as they slowly dragged them up her legs until they reached her groin. Once there, Mountbane moved forward, gingerly placing his hand at the apex of her parted crotch underneath the chains, where reaching carefully inside, he clutched her labial lips and pulled them wide, so her sex was splayed the moment his attendant tugged the crotch of the garment into place. Again, thread with a metal rod from behind, the chains tightened down into her skin and another dozen barbs pricked their way into her tender sexual treasures. This chastity belt was devised to cup her pubic mound and vulva below, giving that place the worst of the torment. Trembling nervously, Charlotte dreaded any movement, and so, held her breath.
“So, my wife, you like my present?” Mountbane queried.
Seeing tears pour from her eyes, he asked no more; but proceeded to the real torture. Circling her body with a tender reed in hand, he snapped it briskly, but not hard—not hard enough to even cause a simple blemish on her skin; but enough to cause her pain—indirectly. Her body twisted on impact and the dreadful metal barbs did all the work. There was no peace in this. When one pricked bit of flesh would feel relief, another would scream in agony. Each jerk was new abuse, with one agony heaped on another.
“Please, please stop!” she wailed in her heartiest of voices coming straight from her gut.
“You don’t like my gift?” Mountbane mocked her at one point.
Her despondent face replied for her—half pleading with remorse, the other half tempted to scowl in anger.
“We’ll see how my dungeon fares with you now, gentle lover.” Then turning to one aide, he said, “Remove her to the dungeon and see that Caius keeps her so attired until morning. She’ll serve me in these chains until I tire of hearing her screams.”
The journey to the dungeon was more gruesome than any she’d undertaken in her short life. She crawled on hands and knees, each movement compounding her woe. And once in her cell, she found but one position free of distress; though by the time she discovered that one, there was so much discomfort in soul and body that she could hardly sleep. Not until the cock crowed in the castle courtyard, when Loria finally arrived to remove the chains, did she fall asleep.
The week that followed slipped into a bizarre ritual of abuse. When she was free of her chains, her body was given pleasure from the slaves that served with her. Mouths and soothing hands would mend the scratches and tears from the biting briar and kiss away her sad tears. Strangely, she was more sexually aroused than ever; it took little to bring her senses to a crashing fruition of lust. Could it be true that even the chains brought her more desire?
Worst of all were Mountbane’s visits. With her miserable clothes still securely fixed to her flesh, he’d toy with her in the gentlest manner. His fingers stroked the slips of skin between her labia until she couldn’t help but respond, jerking into more stinging agony. Her attempts to squelch her physical responses were useless. It seemed her body loved the pain as much as it loved the tenderness of man or woman. Her mind struggled with this mire of anguish, until that eventual moment when she’d suddenly let go and shriek with pain for the jarring orgasmic blasts that careened through her loins.
It was a daily venture, so fraught with anticipation that the hour before Mountbane descended to the dungeon; she felt his loins beating from afar. Her body would quicken so she could smell the aroma of her sex and wonder if it were reaching out to grab him in.
He came one day as her body ached so for the awaited release—and as expected, she found the physical mirth astounding as her pained cry reached high about
Thinking this the worst of all suffering, she soon learned that her woes were just beginning. Having removed the bonds at her feet, her captors had her step into the chain-mail pants as they slowly dragged them up her legs until they reached her groin. Once there, Mountbane moved forward, gingerly placing his hand at the apex of her parted crotch underneath the chains, where reaching carefully inside, he clutched her labial lips and pulled them wide, so her sex was splayed the moment his attendant tugged the crotch of the garment into place. Again, thread with a metal rod from behind, the chains tightened down into her skin and another dozen barbs pricked their way into her tender sexual treasures. This chastity belt was devised to cup her pubic mound and vulva below, giving that place the worst of the torment. Trembling nervously, Charlotte dreaded any movement, and so, held her breath.
“So, my wife, you like my present?” Mountbane queried.
Seeing tears pour from her eyes, he asked no more; but proceeded to the real torture. Circling her body with a tender reed in hand, he snapped it briskly, but not hard—not hard enough to even cause a simple blemish on her skin; but enough to cause her pain—indirectly. Her body twisted on impact and the dreadful metal barbs did all the work. There was no peace in this. When one pricked bit of flesh would feel relief, another would scream in agony. Each jerk was new abuse, with one agony heaped on another.
“Please, please stop!” she wailed in her heartiest of voices coming straight from her gut.
“You don’t like my gift?” Mountbane mocked her at one point.
Her despondent face replied for her—half pleading with remorse, the other half tempted to scowl in anger.
“We’ll see how my dungeon fares with you now, gentle lover.” Then turning to one aide, he said, “Remove her to the dungeon and see that Caius keeps her so attired until morning. She’ll serve me in these chains until I tire of hearing her screams.”
The journey to the dungeon was more gruesome than any she’d undertaken in her short life. She crawled on hands and knees, each movement compounding her woe. And once in her cell, she found but one position free of distress; though by the time she discovered that one, there was so much discomfort in soul and body that she could hardly sleep. Not until the cock crowed in the castle courtyard, when Loria finally arrived to remove the chains, did she fall asleep.
The week that followed slipped into a bizarre ritual of abuse. When she was free of her chains, her body was given pleasure from the slaves that served with her. Mouths and soothing hands would mend the scratches and tears from the biting briar and kiss away her sad tears. Strangely, she was more sexually aroused than ever; it took little to bring her senses to a crashing fruition of lust. Could it be true that even the chains brought her more desire?
Worst of all were Mountbane’s visits. With her miserable clothes still securely fixed to her flesh, he’d toy with her in the gentlest manner. His fingers stroked the slips of skin between her labia until she couldn’t help but respond, jerking into more stinging agony. Her attempts to squelch her physical responses were useless. It seemed her body loved the pain as much as it loved the tenderness of man or woman. Her mind struggled with this mire of anguish, until that eventual moment when she’d suddenly let go and shriek with pain for the jarring orgasmic blasts that careened through her loins.
It was a daily venture, so fraught with anticipation that the hour before Mountbane descended to the dungeon; she felt his loins beating from afar. Her body would quicken so she could smell the aroma of her sex and wonder if it were reaching out to grab him in.
He came one day as her body ached so for the awaited release—and as expected, she found the physical mirth astounding as her pained cry reached high about