La Contessa Ch. 08

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Author note: this chapter is an edited version of part of my Literotica story ‘La Contessa’s Game’.

Chapter 8: Deception

From the palazzo we set out on foot at a leisurely pace towards Ponte Rialto. La Contessa is in her element, nodding her head in greeting to every passing stranger as we stroll along the canal side paths and elegant squares of the city. It’s as if she’s inviting everybody to take notice of us, teasing them to guess if this perfect noble couple are not what they seem.

I can’t help thinking everybody is looking at us, suspicious there’s something not right about how we appear or carry ourselves. I feel uncomfortable dressed as a woman. Although our respective transformations are remarkable, I’m self-conscious of the flaws betraying the dark secret underneath the elegant clothes. I suffer the humiliation of being exposed to public view dressed in feminine clothing. I’m reminded of my encounter with the two transvestites on the night Julia found me. How many people can guess there is a hardening cock under my gown, rubbing against the silky smoothness of my cami-knickers?

La Contessa leads me along the Merceria and then into Campo di San Canciano. I recognise these alleyways from my youth. She’s taking us into the Cannaregio district, the working class area of Venice where Julia found me. As we stroll deeper into this district, the lanes become narrower and the buildings shabbier. The flaking stucco betrays the fact that this part of the city has seen more prosperous times.

The people in the streets are dressed in their working clothes. The grand palaces of the Grand Canal, and the elegantly apparelled clientele on the Rialto, have been left far behind. I’m even more self-conscious now. Dressed like this we stand out, attracting curious stares from the local people going about their daily business.

I realise what La Contessa is doing. I know this area well and there’s only one reason a nobleman would enter this district of Venice… to find a brothel. She strolls on purposefully.

La Contessa turns to me and says, “I see you recognise the alleyways of the Sestiere di Cannaregio. I told you we were going on a little expedition,” she laughs, mocking my naivety. “You believed that after taking so much trouble to transform you I was merely going to take you on promenade, did you slave? Oh no, I have far more interesting things planned for you!”

I’m anxious at what further service La Contessa requires from me.

She turns into a narrow alleyway and then into a secluded square. Facing us is a tavern I’m familiar with, known by the name Il Toro Nero. It’s one of my old haunts, and I can only hope nobody recognises me, though it’s unlikely given my disguise.

“Now, my slave, I will see how well you can serve me.”

When we enter the tavern, the buzz of drunken conversation dies down as curious eyes turn towards us. The air is heavy with the odour of beer, cheap wine, and tobacco. The tavern is populated by the strange mix of familiar characters; working class Venetians, the odd dandy, and a scattering of ample breasted courtesans flirting with the customers.

La Contessa steps forward to speak with the madam and proprietor of the establishment. I’m left by the door to face the leering stares of the clientele of Il Toro Nero.

This is the most humiliating experience for me to date. Is my transformation so convincing this tavern full of hot-blooded men, here to spend an hour with a whore, are mentally stripping me with their gaze? Are they really imagining me as a naked woman of noble birth, here to service their lusts?

Whilst I’m reflecting on my predicament, La Contessa is deep in negotiation with the madam of the house. I watch her empty a pile of soldi into her hands. She gestures for me to come forward. I walk with as much feminine grace as I can muster in the tight corset and heavy material. It’s a curious sensation. It’s as though I’m flirting with the drunken customers of the tavern, flaunting my femininity. Is part of me actually enjoying this? Am I getting a perverse pleasure from the attention being given me, and the deception perpetrated on this unwitting audience?

The madam leads the way, and La Contessa and I ascend the stairs to the gallery.

She turns and whispers, “Servant, remember you must act the role I have chosen for you convincingly and obey my instructions.”

I Ataşehir Esmer Escort nod my acknowledgement of La Contessa’s wishes

“Francesca, your clients are here,” the madam calls. Turning to La Contessa she says, “I have personally chosen this girl for your game, sire. I believe she has the qualities you’re looking for.”

La Contessa appraises the girl as she emerges from one of the boudoirs. She must surely be one of the house’s most favoured courtesans as she is stunningly attractive and oozes a raw sensuality, her locks of thick auburn hair framing her thickly painted face. There is a mischievous glint in her eyes as if he is looking forward to this encounter.

“Yes, that will be satisfactory. I’m happy to trust to your judgement,” she says.

The madame leads the three of us into one of the upstairs boudoir rooms, which is surprisingly clean and pleasant and dominated by a large four poster bed, and then leaves. La Contessa turns to the girl, Francesca, and speaks, disguising her voice with deepened and husky tones.

“I need to teach my young wife the ways of the world. She is young and innocent and must learn the true meaning of obedience. As part of her training I desire that she be punished. I will watch as you follow my directions and abuse her.”

“Your wife’s a beauty, sire, there’s no doubt about that. I compliment your choice sir, I could quite fancy her myself,” she replies, a wry smile on her lips.

My eyes widen in shock. My disguise has been so skilfully executed that even at such close quarters this girl can believe I really am a nobleman’s young wife. She lustily runs her hand up my body and gropes my false breasts. Surely, the deception will be found out and I will be undone, but the layers of thick material are enough to hide the true nature of my false breasts. She puts her painted fingernails to my cheek and pulls my face towards hers. Our lips meet and she thrusts her tongue deep into my mouth with an ardent passion.

“I had something more perverse and exotic in mind than seduction. I have paid you well for my entertainment and I am very particular as to my needs. You will follow my directions precisely,” La Contessa pronounces.

“Of course, sire, I’m yours to command. I doubt there’s anything you desire that’ll shock me.”

“I need to see her punished. She must learn obedience and trust. Tie her to the bed. You may be as rough with her as you need though I doubt she will offer any resistance.”

Francesca is a powerful and athletic young woman, her muscles no doubt toned from the physical exertions of her work. She has no difficulty forcing me face down onto the bed and for my part I dare not oppose any of my mistress’s instructions. From my position on the bed I can only gaze at her shapely muscular thighs and wait with trepidation for La Contessa’s command. Francesca kneels over me putting the full weight of her body on me so that I can feel the stiff whalebone stays of her satin corset and the swell of her breasts against my back.

I lay down on the bed gasping for breath, my face buried into the pillow. I feel ropes being tied onto one my wrists and my arms stretched and the other end of the rope tied firmly onto the posts of the bed. I can see La Contessa out of the corner of my eye. She leans forward in her chair watching proceedings intently, her blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of malice and amusement.

Francesca soon has me spread-eagled, the ropes secured tightly to my wrists and ankles and tied to the posts at each corner of the bed. There is nothing I can do but submit to the fate that La Contessa has conjured for me.

The weight of Francesca’s heaving bosom is heavy on me as she whispers threats in my ear, “You’re going nowhere now, my love, not until I’ve used you for your master’s entertainment.”

“Take this. I know I do not need to tell you how to use it. Beat her and pay no heed to her squeals of pain,” La Contessa orders, handing Francesca a riding crop.

I smell the leather and feel its soft touch as the end of a riding crop is run tantalisingly across my powdered cheek and down my neck. She lifts it and cracks it down hard on the bed head and lets out a malicious laugh.

“You’ve heard what your master wants. I’m going to give you such a beating girl.”

My heart is racing and beads of sweat run down my cheeks. La Contessa Ataşehir Eve Gelen Escort has clearly chosen the girl for this sadistic streak.

La Contessa orchestrates proceedings with firm instructions, “Lift up her dress and pull her knickers down. Don’t take them off. I want them pulled down enough to expose her pert little arse. Don’t uncover her cunt. I will save that hidden delight for you later.”

I’m party to her trick and I can sense that La Contessa is delighting in the game. In the course of my service to her I have gained some insight into her perverse mind and I know she will not reveal the dark secret underneath my silk knickers until she has acted out this little performance for her own amusement.

I feel the touch of the riding crop on my back-side, just a dozen gentle taps with the soft loop of leather at the end of the crop to warm me up. I know that there is more to come. Sure enough the riding crop comes cracking down on my arse. I count six powerful strokes with the full hard length of the crop. My back-side stings like nothing I have felt before and I have to fight the tears welling up in my eyes and restrain the urge to scream out in agony.

“I thought the madame called you a sadist. I think you are holding back somewhat. I’m sure you can hit her harder than that. I want you to give her another thirty strokes. Do you understand me?”

“Oh yes sire, I’ll enjoy dishing out that kind of punishment.”

I count the strokes. The first few are excruciatingly painful but after a while I reach a plateau where I can embrace the pain of each new stroke. But they build up in intensity until the last ten rein down on me with a speed and ferocity that takes my breath away. My head is spinning as I adjust to the savage beating I’ve taken. By the end of this punishment there is a stinging pain in my back-side and a criss-cross pattern of red weal marks across my arse.

“How’s that my lovely, that’ll teach you,” she whispers in my ear. She turns to La Contessa, “Is sire content with that beating?”

“Yes, I’m satisfied my wife has learnt a lesson about the meaning of true subservience. But I haven’t finished yet. There’s another act of pain and humiliation I wish to observe.”

I can’t imagine what act La Contessa intends but I’m soon about to find out.

“I want to watch you take her up the arse with a strap-on. I need to see you inside her; fucking her back passage until I’m satisfied her humiliation is complete. Fuck her as hard as you wish. If she squeals or begs for mercy, just fuck her harder.”

“You’re a cruel master, sire,” she says taking an object from La Contessa’s hand, “but yes, it’ll give me pleasure to do that for you. My fanny’s getting wet just thinking about it.”

I watch Francesca out of the corner of my eye as she tightens the leather belt around her crotch. I’ve never seen such an object before and to my innocent eyes it’s a fearsome thing. The strap-on is a false wooden cock covered in soft brown Italian leather, awesomely long and thick. Francesca poses a stunning and dominating figure in her crimson satin bodice with the hideous looking brown object portruding from her waist with its threat of agonising humiliation awaiting me.

Francesca leans over, taunting me, gently stroking my hair and face with an expression of amusement and pity. I’m tied down, unable to move, my legs spread wide and my arse exposed. There’s no escape from this act of humiliation. I feel her fingers entering me, playing with me, preparing me for penetration. Then I feel the hard object pressing against me and the pain as it is forced into me and pushes up into my back passage.

Francesca forces the full weight of her body down on me. I feel her hot breath against my cheek, taste her perfumed hair as it brushes against my lips and hear the gentle groans of exertion as she moves energetically inside me. I feel a strange mix of pain and pleasure, of humiliation and satisfaction, of service given up to my mistress.

I hear La Contessa’s voice, cruel and playful, “Fuck her harder. Thrust the strap-on into her. Show her the meaning of true obedience. Show her that unless she obeys me and submits to me in everything this is the pain and humiliation she must suffer.”

There’s no point in my resisting. I try to welcome the long thrust of the hard object stretching and filling my Ataşehir Evi Olan Escort arse and resolve to embrace my punishment. Francesca’s breathing gets heavier and the groans of her own pleasure more intense as the movement of the strap-on against her cunt arouses her. La Contessa encourages her, urging her to penetrate me with all the force of her muscular thighs until, eventually, after much exertion, Francesca collapses on top of me, exhausted.

There is a pause in proceedings as Francesca sits on the side of the bed and recovers her breath and energy. La Contessa takes up a place beside her, gently stroking her auburn curls, planting kisses onto the elegant line of her neck, running her fingers across the milky white flesh of her bosom, which is bursting out of the top of the tightly laced bodice. Francesca luxuriates in what she believes are the attentions of a wealthy Venetian nobleman still oblivious to the deception. La Contessa revels in the delight of the game, taking her own pleasure in the physical attention she is plying onto the girl.

“I think she’s been taught a lesson now,” says La Contessa, “You can pull her knickers up and untie her.”

Francesca gives me one more hard slap with her bare hand and roughly pulls up my knickers before working quickly to untie the knots securing me to the four poster bed. As she leans over untying my ankles La Contessa puts her arms around Francesca’s waist and releases the buckles on the strap-on.

Francesca smiles to herself. She knows she’s been paid well and has a purse of silver soldi from this strange Venetian nobleman to provide whatever perverted services he desires. She thinks La Contessa is merely a perverted husband who delights in seeing his wife punished. She still has no awareness of how wickedly depraved my mistress can be.

She cocks her head to one side, “You want to fuck me sire?”

La Contessa whispers in her ear, “Oh yes, I’m going to take you girl, but first let’s give my wife’s cunt some relief. Turn her over and pull her drawers down.”

Released from my restraints I turn over and Francesca lifts up the folds of heavy material, grasps the satin knickers and pulls them down roughly. There is a gasp… and then a laugh, as an erect cock springs up before her eyes.

“Oh, very clever, sire,” she laughs at La Contessa’s trick. “I was completely taken in. I’d no idea you liked things that way.”

“And which way would that be?” replied La Contessa, her dark eyebrow raised quizzically.

La Contessa takes off her blue silk jacket; she slowly removes her white linen shirt and throws it onto the floor. Her chest is strapped in wide bands of cloth which she now unravels to reveal her breasts. She leans over Francesca her ample and beautiful tits hanging over her shocked face.

“Suck him girl, whilst I take you,” she orders as she ties the strap-on around her white silk breeches.

Francesca’s sensuous lips close around my cock and I’m driven to ecstasy as she slides her mouth up and down my shaft. Whilst she is on all fours over me La Contessa mounts the bed, the fearsome strap-on secured to her waist, pulls aside the crotch of her satin basque and pushes the leather object deep into her cunt. Francesca expels a gasp as she is penetrated and pauses momentarily to receive the strap-on into her sopping cunt then continues sucking me with renewed vigour.

The three of us are locked into an orgiastic frenzy. I watch La Contessa’s bared breasts and the white breeches bouncing up and own with the pounding of her hips and Francesca’s head bopping up and down in time to the thrusts into her cunt as she sucks my cock. She can sense that I’m reaching my climax and pulls her mouth away just as my hot cum spurts out in an orgasmic release and I groan in ecstasy. La Contessa keeps thrusting into Francesca until she lets out a shriek of pleasure as she reaches her climax.

As we dis-entangle our bodies and La Contessa pulls the leather cock out of the girl Francesca gasps, “Well milady, you’re full of surprises. You’re welcome here anytime, just ask for me. I’ll happily take part in any of your wicked games.”

“Yes, girl, now you know that I am La Contessa and I like to use my servants to satisfy my perverse lusts. As for you, servant, you’ve had special treat today,” she says, adding wickedly, ” but, there’ll be a penance to pay when I get you back to my palace.”

La Contessa dresses again as the perfect Venetian gentleman. I pull up my silk knickers, roll down the material of the beautiful gown and adjust my dishevelled wig. I follow La Contessa as she sweeps imperiously out of the chamber leaving Francesca in admiration at her perverted and twisted imagination.

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