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Self-Control- Xmas 1677


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Leaving the service corridor, Juliana led Charles back through the palace until they reached the library. As she had expected, nobody was interested in doing any reading on New Year's Eve. Their footsteps echoed eerily through the cavernous room as they entered and strolled to a shadowy corner in the back where a table and two chairs were silhouetted in the dim light. “This will do perfectly.”


She held out one long slender hand. “Give me the riding crop and then find a bawdy book and meet me back here.”

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Well, I suppose it is her prerogative to be capricious...

Keeping his head bowed Charles could not help but shudder in delicious anticipation of whatever new game had occurred to Juliana. That smirk alone set his blood to boiling. Almost he was tempted to break character and set about her there and then, but he resisted. Playing out his chosen role offered even greater satisfaction.

He trailed after Juliana through the palace, idly trying to guess what she had in mind. Never once did he think to guess that they were heading to the library. He nodded once in reply to her instructions and placed the crop in her hands before bowing and leaving in search of the requested 'bawdy book.'

Now, where might I find one of those?

He considered the question for a moment before smiling as an idea struck him. Searching swiftly through the shelves, he sought out a manuscript of the works of his favourite poet - Catullus.

It took several minutes, long enough that Charles suspected he would be punished, before he found his prize. Smiling brightly, he returned to Juliana and dropped to his knees, offering the book to her.

"Will this serve, Domina?"

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While Charles was searching for a suitable book, Juliana dragged the two chairs a bit away from the table until they were side by side, close enough that she and the Earl would be nearly touching each other when they sat down. She seated herself on one of them, tapping the riding crop against the chair's wooden legs as if she was impatient.  In truth, she was quite content to wait. Charles would be able to hear the sound as he returned, although by the time he came into view, the crop was resting demurely in her lap.


She smiled as he knelt and handed the book to her. “Catullus. An excellent choice.” He was a well-read as she was, it seemed, though she doubted that anyone who didn't know him would believe he was interested in poetry.  Looks, she knew from experience, could be deceiving.  “Rise and sit beside me.”


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Charles permitted himself an anticipatory shudder as the sound of the crop being tapped repeatedly against something reached his ears. He was very much looking forward to discovering what exactly Juliana had planned for him. She was so delightfully creative.

Returning to her side, Charles was almost disappointed when no reprimand for his tardiness was forthcoming, though the disappointment was tempered by the exquisite tension the wait was brewing in him, and then swallowed altogether by joy as his mistress praised his choice of Catullus. He ducked his head shyly under her praise.

"Thank you Domina," he whispered, rising hesitantly to seat himself as directed. It was almost unbearable to be so close to her, but Charles restrained himself and awaited her pleasure.

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As soon as Charles sat down, Juliana handed the book back to him. “Read to me.” Though they weren't touching, she could feel the warmth of his body beside her, and desire stirred within her.  She wasn't going to reveal the little game she had devised for him, but she could hardly wait for him to make his first mistake.  The crop twitched with anticipation in her hand.


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Read to her?

Not quite what Charles had been expecting. What end had Juliana in mind for this? He had hoped for something more physical, given how nigh-uncomfortably close she placed their seats. He gave a mental shrug. The other shoe would fall when and as it would, and overthinking the matter would change nothing. 

Considering that I can feel the heat from her, I very much doubt that overthinking things will be a problem in any case.

Focusing on his assigned task, Charles flipped past the first poem. That, if he remembered correctly, was a fairly standard dedication. The second poem, however, fit the bill much more neatly. Finding his place, he began to read, pitching his voice low and soft.

"Sparrow, beloved of my girl –
with whom she likes to play, to hold
to her breast, to give her finger-tip
to reach for and provoke sharp pecks
whenever it pleases my bright-shining lady love
to make some sort of silly joke
as solace to her sadness (I judge)
so that her stifling ardour cools –
could I but play with you like her
and lighten my mind’s sombre cares!

It is as pleasing to me as they say
the golden apple to have been to that swift girl,
which untied that long-bound girdle."

A bit of a reach, perhaps, but Charles thought there were parallels to be drawn. He paused a moment, to allow Juliana to interject if she chose.

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Juliana listened as he read. She wasn't certain if he had chosen those poems because of their content, or because they were the first two with any real substance. The introduction was rather bland. His low resonant voice sent fire through her veins and she wondered if her abrupt decision had been wise. Had they stayed in the servants' passageway, they would probably be entwined in each other's arms in a storage closet now. That could still come later, after she had taught him a lesson and punished him for his errors. The self-proclaimed Princess had thought he would have made at least one already, but he had not.


She might have to entice him into it.


“Read something juicier.” Juliana schooled her voice to sound as if she was bored. “And put some feeling into it.”


When he began to read this time, she reached across his lap, without touching him, and stroked the leg farthest way from her, moving the tip of the riding crop, moving it up and down along his thigh.


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Juliana's proximity was beginning to have a noticeable physical effect upon Charles, and he shifted in his seat as he flicked through the book. 'Something juicier,' he had been commanded. For a moment he considered the sixteenth, but that was unlikely to have been included, and would certainly have been left untranslated if it had been. No, the fifth would suffice.

Settling himself, he put a more heated timbre into his voice, as Juliana had demanded, and began to read.

"Lesbia, let us live, and let us love
and if we valued old men's tales aright
a price of just one penny we'd approve!

The sun will set, and rising, send its light
to us just once before it fails, before
we're made to sleep the —"

Charles trailed off abruptly as Juliana ran the riding crop over his thigh. He tracked its movement for a moment, anticipation building, before quickly licking his lips and shaking himself.

"Apologies, Domina," he murmured, and returned to his task. (He was literally swelling with anticipation now, and quite unsure whether he wanted his mistress to prolong his torture or move matters to a conclusion.)

"— made to sleep the never-ending night.

Give me a thousand kisses, a hundred more,
Another thousand, and a hundred new,
And yet another thousand, and fivescore.

And after many thousands, I and you
we'll mix them up in glorious confusion
so no-one can be bad or jealous who
can count our kisses in their wild profusion."

He looked at Juliana, doing his best to appear meek, and awaited her verdict.

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Juliana was well aware of the way her closeness affected Charles, and as he shifted in his seat, she looked down at his lap, smiling when she saw his arousal straining against the confines of his breeches. Her own need pulsed within her, intensifying between her thighs. How easy it would be to tell him to throw her on the table and take her right here and now. Her little experiment seemed to be more difficult for her than it was for him.


He was probably expecting her to punish him for moving, but she didn't. She wanted to keep him guessing as to what would displease her, anticipating when the riding crop would crack against his skin. Perhaps she would make him wait for that and simply tease him with it tonight, as she was doing now. His impassioned voice heightened her desire, and when he faltered, she just smiled at him.


Again, he had picked a fitting poem, and Juliana imagined him kissing her all over, millions of kisses misting upon her like tiny raindrops, each one more tantalizing than the last. When Charles reached the end of the poem, she shook her head to clear it of those lovely images. Lifting the crop, she trailed it gently across his lips. “Is that what you want … for me to kiss you countless times?”


The crop slid down his cheek, his neck, his chest, his stomach and whispered softly over his lap. “Or do you yearn for a different kind of gratification? You have my permission to answer honestly and  you will only displease me if you defer to my own wishes again.”


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That smile was confusing, Charles mused. He had expected Juliana to reprimand him at the very least, and the lack of even an attempt at chastisement was disconcerting, left him feeling distinctly wrong-footed. Not that that prevented his arousal and anticipation both from building steadily.

He inhaled sharply as Juliana ran the crop over his lips. He was positively throbbing now, his pulse thrumming in his ears so that he could barely hear Juliana's question. His mind groped for an answer, only for his thoughts to vanish under the caress of the crop, as Juliana trailed it over his neck and chest, and on down to his lap. He could not help but shift his hips under its touch, groaning softly.

"Domina," he whispered hoarsely, and trailed off. Laying aside the book, he slid from his chair to kneel before her. Gently he reached out and took her hand in both of his, pressing his lips to the back of her hand.

"I merely wish to worship."

He moved his lips to the inside of wrist and slowly kissed the pulse point there, before proceeding up along her arm.

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Juliana expected him to be confused. It was part of the game. She preferred being a fickle mistress rather than a predictable one, and she enjoyed tormenting her pets with her capriciousness. It was never easy to tell what would please her or irritate her. She wished she could claim the idea as her own, but one of her dominant lovers had been mercurial, and she had adored trying to guess what would please him, always anticipating punishment for whatever she did. When it didn't come, she had been disappointed and had attempted to figure out what kind of behavior would cause chastisement.


Teasing Charles was very satisfying. She noted his reactions as she caressed him with the riding crop, using it in a way that it had not been designed for. His groan kindled pleasurable little flames within her, and when he lifted her hand, the touch of his lips produced a tingle in her fingers that quickly spread throughout her body. This was what she was supposed to punish him for, but she longed for him to continue. How was she going to teach him patience if she couldn't even control herself?


Was he able to feel the quickening of her heart when he kissed her wrist?  His kisses moved sensuously up her arm and it was only when a moan escaped her lips that Juliana remembered why she had brought him into the library in the first place. To hell with that, she thought, at least for now.


With her free hand, she took the book from him and laid it on the table along with the crop. “Then worship me,” she whispered. “Prove your worthiness to serve me.”


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Charles grinned as the sweet sound of Juliana's moan reached his ears. It was nice to have confirmation that he had not been suffering alone. But in the interest of alleviating both their suffering, he did not pause to savour the moment, instead letting his lips continue their slow journey along Juliana's arm and up her throat and jaw to her ear. He was in a half-crouch now, stooped in front of her.

"I desire nothing more than to adore every last inch of you, to chase away all the cares and tension of the day with hands and lips and tongue," he breathed out, nibbling gently at her ear lobe, "but I fear that your dress will prevent that. So my offerings must seek to compensate for their limitations with even greater zeal."

Taking his time, Charles kissed back down Juliana's cheek and jawline to her throat, where he tarried for a moment suckling at the pulse point. He meant for Juliana to melt before they were done tonight, and that required patience, even if he himself was fit to burst. And so he gave her a necklace of kisses before continuing on, pressing his lips to her décolletage. He kept the contacts light and fluttering, almost teasing, avoiding the temptation of her breasts for the moment. He would press on soon enough.

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Anticipation rippled through ever fiber of Juliana's being as Charles continued to kiss her arm, moving inexorably upwards. She closed her eyes and lifted her neck when he reached her throat, not even attempting to stifle the moan that escaped her lips. His hot breath whispered against her ear and he could probably feel her tremble in bliss when he nibbled on her earlobe. She lowered her head and watched him as he spoke. Oh, how she wished that she could remove her clothes and let him do whatever he wished to her!


She could have berated herself for leading him to the library, but they would have had no more privacy in a storage room. Full worship would require going back to her rented house, and she didn't think either of them could wait that long. If they tried, they would probably end up fucking in the carriage on the way. Besides, it enhanced her excitement to think that somebody could walk in on them at any moment. It would be hilarious if their little mouse stumbled into them again. She looked like the type who might want to escape the ball and seek solace in books.


Juliana looked down at his groin and then grinned up at him. “I think that you're up to the challenge,” she teased. His lips moved downwards to her throat again and her heartbeat quickened as he sucked on her pulse point. She could feel the rapid rhythm echoing in her ears. Sharp pangs of need pierced her like hundreds of little knives, making her want to push him away and instruct him to sit again so that she could straddle him and bring both him and herself to completion.


Yet she didn't.  She wanted to touch him, but she didn't do that either.  Juliana wanted him to beg for her attentions when he could hold out no more.  His kisses to her cleavage caused her breasts to ache sweetly and she moaned again, thoroughly enjoying his adoration. Most ladies were appalled at the thought of dominance and submission, if they knew about it at all.  If they knew how enjoyable it was to be indulged in such tantalizing ways, Juliana believed that they would change their minds.


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Kissing along the line of Juliana's collarbones, Charles brought his hands into play, fingers trailing softly over her hips to caress loins and belly through the fabric of her dress. He kept that up for several moments before his own discomfort necessitated a shift — he was not far short of tearing straight through his breeches by his estimation. 

But so long as my larger head has blood enough to remain conscious, I'll see this through. I can be patient.

Straightening slightly, he claimed Juliana's lips in a lingering kiss, hands abandoning their playground to drift north and fondle her breasts over her bodice. His blood was thoroughly afire with the taste and feel of her, and it was all he could do not to groan. Deepening the kiss, Charles shifted his efforts from caressing to trying to pop those unjustly imprisoned orbs free of their cruel confines. 

It is becoming much harder to remember patience.

(It was a mark of his distraction that the pun passed unnoticed and unremarked, even within his own mind.)

Breaking off the kiss to catch his breath, Charles smiled at Juliana, endeavouring to remember how to use language properly.

"You are quite the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on," he managed. "Perfection is writ in every line and curve of you."

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Juliana was so distracted by Charles' kisses that she was surprised by the touch of his hands. Her muscles tensed as he caressed her hips and stomach over her gown. She wished that she could command him to undress her but cavorting naked in the library wasn't a very good idea. He seemed as unconcerned with his reputation as she was with hers, so it wasn't as if they would be embarrassed by discovery. They might even perform more lasciviously if they knew they had an audience. Maybe the clothes would come off later if they both decided to throw caution to the wind. It was warm in the library and the heat of passion flowing through her made it even more so.


He shifted and she smiled. The fake princess hoped that his breeches were made of sturdy material or he might burst right through them and wouldn't be able to return to the ball unless he sent his manservant for a new pair. It would be an amusing situation, and she believed that he would see it that way too, but she did plan to release his cock from its confines as soon as he pleaded for her touch.


But would he? He was exhibiting a good deal more restraint than she had given him credit for, and it was possible that he was more patient than she. The fact that she knew how delightful it was to fuck him added to her eagerness to feel him inside her again.


When Charles captured her lips in a searing kiss and began to fondle her bosom, Juliana reached out toward him, but stopped herself before her fingers brushed against the bulge in his breeches, returning her hands to her sides and clenching them into fists to keep from giving into her desire to caress him. It wasn't difficult to free her breasts from her gown, considering how far her corset pushed them up, and she gasped when she felt the cold breeze flutter across them, followed by the warmth of his hands.


Refraining from begging him to take her was becoming more and more difficult. She was actually relieved when he broke the kiss but his eloquent words amplified the fire burning within her. “I can tell that you believe what you say,” she replied, “Therefore you have earned a reward. What is it you want most from the goddess whom you serve?” If he refused to beg for gratification, maybe she could cajole him into asking.


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Charles had never before thought it possible for his cock to physically tear right through his breeches. In light of the fresh evidence at hand, he realised that that opinion would have to be re-evaluated. Or would have done, had he the capacity or spare attention to consider such matters, instead of monomaniacally focusing on laying lips and hands on every inch of Juliana he could reach. She made for a wonderfully absorbing subject of study.

Engrossed as he was, Charles did not see her aborted reach towards him, but he felt her weight shift, and heard her gasp as he popped her breasts free of her gown. That was encouraging, stimulating even, and he growled low in his throat as his arousal impossibly managed to ramp yet higher.  It seemed monstrously warm to him in the library, despite the season and the hour, and his earlier concerns about the wisdom of stripping had become distant and paltry things. His patience was beginning to wear, and the fire in his blood urged him to hike up her skirts and bring matters to a grand (and swift) conclusion for them both. But the only thing stronger than Charles' libido was his perverse contrariness, and he was resolved to either pleasure Juliana into a satisfied puddle, or retire to a monastery.

Though at this rate there is a very real chance that I shall perish in the attempt...

But what a way to go.

Pausing to regain his breath and master himself anew, it took Charles a moment to notice that he had spoken, and another to realise that Juliana had replied. (In his defence, Juliana was beautifully voluptuous, and possessed of a truly spectacular bosom. Charles would challenge any man not to be at least a little distracted.) Considering his answer, he bent forward and circled kisses in towards her nipples, erect and seeming to cry out for his attentions. The task absorbed him, and some little time passed before he remembered to reply. Replacing lips with hands, he smiled up at Juliana.

"Hmm. What I want most in the world at the moment, I think, is to kneel at your altar of love, Venus, and... pray."

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Juliana had thought that her breasts would ache less when freed from their silken prison, but they only felt heavier and more sensitive. Her nipples stiffened immediately, before Charles even touched them. The cool air upon her bare skin was welcome, for the heat inside her was becoming unbearable. Perhaps they should disrobe. It was unlikely that they would be discovered, unless another couple had the same idea and then what did it matter? They were also concealed in their shadowy corner and they could cover themselves quickly if they heard footsteps approaching.


It was difficult to think coherently with his lips circling her nipples. The trail of delicious moisture they left behind evoked a burst of wetness between her thighs. This was getting ridiculous. One of them should give in, but she was determined that it wasn't going to be her. His answer made it extremely clear what he wanted. Praying at her alter would bring her to a quick and exciting climax. It was tempting to let him do it and relieve some of the excruciating but blissful torture that wracked her body. Yet Juliana felt that there was an impromptu competition between them, that both she and Charles wanted to be the last to succumb their carnal urges.


An idea managed to insert itself into the pleasurable haze of her mind and she smiled. “Very well. But if you want to pray at my alter, you must come to me pure and unclad, as you were on the day you were born..”


Her gaze moved to the riding crop on the table, and her smile broadened.


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Charles was not sure that he had ever been pure, though he would concede that he had spent a greater portion of his life unclad than was usual. Shivering pleasantly under Juliana's smiling gaze, he bowed and stepped back. Her demand would make this little war of patience more difficult for him, but Charles intended to win despite it. It was a silly thing, perhaps, but his pride and competitive instincts both were roused.

"As you command Domina," he murmured. He moved smoothly and unhurriedly, sitting first to remove his shoes, and then doffing his justacorps and folding it neatly over the back of his chair. Waistcoat, cravat, shirt, and stockings followed. Undoing the laces of his breeches, he could not stifle a groan of relief as his cock was released. He was painfully hard, cock almost angrily red and weeping with frustration.

Entirely bare now, he hesitated a moment and then removed his eye patch as well. Juliana had said unclad as the day he was born, and it was not as though the patch concealed anything particularly gruesome. Merely some comparatively minor scarring and a Venetian prosthetic. He wore the thing for the look of it, really, rather than from any real need. It was still mildly uncomfortable to remove it, and he shied away from examining his reasons for doing it.

Finally done disrobing, Charles dropped to his knees and crawled to Juliana's feet. He paused there, kneeling to await her permission before beginning his 'prayers.'

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Juliana watched appreciatively as Charles disrobed, trying to ignore the delightful tension building within her as more and more skin was revealed. When he unlaced his breeches and freed his cock, fiery little thrills exploded through her lush body. It was so rigid that it must be agonizing, and her inner muscles contracted in sympathy and anticipation. She should tell him to take her now, but she knew that the longer they were able to hold out, the stronger and more pleasurable their surrender would be.


The riding crop twitched in her hand as her gaze slowly ran up and down his magnificent nude form. And he was all hers, at least for now. She wanted to bare herself as well, but that wouldn't be nearly as much fun as letting him do it. Juliana was just about to demand it when he unexpectedly took off his eye patch. One blonde eyebrow rose slightly. She had wondered what was underneath his patch, but she had not wanted to embarrass him by demanding that he remove it. The glass eye surprised her. It looked realistic enough that he didn't really need to cover it. The eyepatch did add to that roguish look she adored, so maybe he wore it for that effect.


Juliana felt privileged that he had revealed it  without any encouragement from her. She watched him as he crawled toward her and knelt in front of her. Lowering the crop, she slid it lightly over his cock and then up his chest to his chin. As she stood up, she increased the pressure so that he would have to  tilt his head and look up at her. “Stand up,” she ordered. “Before you pray, you must uncover your goddess's full glory.” She stretched her hands out to the side, the riding crop dangling from one of them as she waited for him to undress her.


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Impossibly, Charles felt his cock harden still farther under Juliana's gaze. He groaned with the profoundly erotic discomfort. Surely, a part of his mind whispered, continued self-denial had to be unhealthy at this point. He silenced that mental voice. He had survived greater pain, even if he could not remember when at that exact moment.

He could not help but shiver and arch under the caress of the crop, and again when he was forced to meet the eyes of his goddess. 


"As Domina commands," he replied, swallowing.

He began without rising, with her shoes and stockings, pressing a kiss to each of her feet in turn as they were bared. He stood then, stepping behind Juliana. Pausing to kiss the nape of her neck, he set to work on her laces. He worked steadily and smoothly, stopping occasionally to press his lips to a particularly inviting patch of bared flesh. He could not help himself. The temptation of her silky skin was too great. (Besides, if he was to win this little game, Juliana needed to be suffering at least as much as he was.)

Finished disrobing her, Charles neatly folded her garments and set them aside. Turning back, he lowered himself down and knelt at her feet in supplication.

"Great Venus, your humble slave begs the privilege of worshipping you."

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Juliana had hoped that the touch of her riding crop would have Charles begging to be allowed into her sacred garden. But he handled it well and she believed he knew that they were playing a game of endurance, even though she had said nothing about it. Which one of them would be able to hold out the longest? She had the power to demand that he fuck her at any time, which she thought made her role a bit more difficult than his. All Charles had to do was obey, unless she could compel him to plead.


She tried to turn her mind elsewhere as he began to undress her but as soon as his lips whispered over her feet, her ardor overwhelmed her again. He kissed her neck and the phony princess moaned softly. After he had finished unlacing her bodice, she gasped as the cool air wafted across her skin, followed by the fiery kiss of his lips. Her skirt was next, followed by her layered petticoats and bum roll. At last Juliana stood only in her corset, and when he released her from that constricting garment, she sighed. whether with relief that she could breathe freely or frustration that her entire body was burning for him, she couldn't say,


As expected, Charles knelt before her again and begged to worship her. It was not what she had hoped he would beg for, but she would give him a chance to relieve both of them from their delicious torment. She sat back down on the chair, enjoying the texture of its upholstery beneath her naked bum, and spread her legs. “You have done well, slave. You may enter my alter now and pray.”


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Charles felt a lustful growl rise in his throat as Juliana spread her legs. It might not fit the servile role he was playing but he could not help himself, not with Juliana giving such a gloriously wanton display. His cock pulsed with frustrated need, and he gave a full-bodied twitch at the effort of not throwing himself at her. He took a deep breath and swallowed, mastering himself. He was not about to fall at what surely must have been the final hurdle.

"Thank you Domina," he finally managed a tone more appropriate for his chosen role, bowing his head submissively. "Your unworthy slave shall strive to render fitting tribute unto you."

Dipping his head further, Charles began with her feet, kissing both of her soles before meandering lazily up along her calves towards her inner thighs. He took his time, luxuriating in the feel of Juliana's skin under his lips, switching between legs as the fancy took him, occasionally reversing course for a few moments to ensure that he missed nothing. His hands were not idle, caressing and massaging wherever his lips were not. He had said earlier that only Juliana's dress prevented him from adoring every last inch of her, and he had meant it. Well, the dress was gone now, and he had no intention of being shown to be a liar.

At last reaching the juncture of Juliana's thighs, Charles lingered on the edges of her garden, his hands sliding to her hips to caress what he could reach of her arse. Turn about was fair play, after all, and if he had to suffer then so should she. Finally, though, his patience ended, and he allowed himself to switch his attention to her mound, beginning with a flurry of butterfly kisses to her lips before allowing his tongue to probe deeper. He steadily increased the pace of his ministrations, before easing off and drawing back. He smiled up at Juliana for a moment, before his fingers slid from her hip to replace his tongue, and the latter stole forward to dance upon her pearl.

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That lusty growl told Juliana that displaying her charms had the desired effect on him and he was going to abandon his role for the pleasures she offered. Yet he didn't, playing his part to frustrating perfection. She was surprised that Charles could speak so calmly as she was almost past the point of speaking at all. As he began his worship of her body, all that emerged from her lips were gasps and moans.


Her inner muscles spasmed madly as he slowly worked his way from her feet to her legs. Every kiss was a jolt of electricity tearing through her passion-wracked body. Somehow, she needed to distract herself or she would climax as soon as his mouth reached her mound. Her fists clenched and she remembered that she still held the riding crop. Extending that hand downwards, she drew it back and gently slapped his bum with the tip of it, over and over again. It would sting, but not cause too much pain.


His lips and hands were magical, and she wriggled on the chair as his hands caressed her hips. Juliana's lips bucked upward when she felt his tongue upon her nether lips. Her thighs tensed and then relaxed again. His tongue probed inside her and she nearly screamed with passion as small waves of pleasure rippled through her. It would be so easy to give in, to let Charles own her when she was supposed to own him.


No, she would not do it. The riding crop slapped against his bum a bit harder. Then his fingers replaced his tongue, and his tongue began to ravish her pearl, sending sparks of ice and fire hurtling through her. There was a fierce storm building inside her now, threatening to break at any moment. With one last attempt to dissuade him from sending her over the edge, she cracked the crop forcefully against his arse.


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Charles arched under the sweet sting of the crop's bite, groaning loudly. There was a wonderful clarity in that feeling, cutting through the haze of arousal enveloping him. He had been imagining that fiery rush since he had first bought the crop, and Juliana's ministrations did not disappoint. He took a moment to wallow in the sensation before redoubling his efforts.

The bucking of her hips was a reward in itself, proof that he was close to his goal. He might have reflected smugly that he was winning this little impromptu contest, but his world had shrank to the juncture of Juliana's thighs and the wonderful lash of the crop upon his arse, and there was no room for such extraneous thoughts there. Only pleasuring his Venus. He picked up his tempo, focused with nigh-blissful mindlessness on bringing his mistress to a climax. 

He was jarred from his almost meditative state by the crack of the crop, losing his rhythm as he jerked under the unexpectedly forceful strike. He gave a long, shuddering moan.

"Apologies, Domina," he gasped, assuming in the fog of his submissive mindset that he was being admonished for taking too long. A moment to centre himself, and he vigorously resumed his attentions.

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Juliana saw Charles arch under the first kiss of the crop, which encouraged her to continue. She had planned to make him wait until they met again at her residence, but she needed something to distract herself with while he continued his delightful onslaught upon her pearl. In the back of her desire-filled mind, she wondered if he was cleverly manipulating her into giving him what he craved, but she didn't care. She could make him hold his release as long as she wished, and she could tell by his moans that the sting of the crop was increasing his arousal.


As he was increasing hers with that lovely expressive tongue of his. Nor did her stronger use of the riding crop have the desired effect. At first she thought that he was going to stop but after a moment, he continued his expert ministrations until she couldn't hold on any longer. A long sultry moan emerged from his lips as she climaxed, wave after wave of exquisite bliss breaking over her and consuming her utterly. Closing her eyes, she arched her back and she dropped the crop so that her hands could run through his hair.


Eventually, her pleasure began to fade and she pushed his head away. “You have worshiped overlong, slave,” she said, trying to sound stern even though her breath was still coming out in gasps. “And for that, you shall be punished.” Charles had won their silent competition and for that, she planned to tease him unmercifully before allowing him release. “Stand up and bend over the table. If you remain still and quiet during your chastisement, you shall received the ultimate reward.”


Rising from her chair, Juliana bent over, giving him a full view of her shapely arse, as she picked up the riding crop and whipped it through the air … a taste of what was to come.


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If Charles had retained even the semblance of coherent thought, he would have gloried in bringing Juliana to climax and thus winning their little game. He might even have gloated. As it was, lost in a fog of desire and entirely subsumed by his role as slave, he could do no more than nuzzle at her thighs and lean into her touch as she ran her hands through his hair. There was bliss in the lack of thought that came with prostrating himself at her feet and serving at her pleasure, and it would be some time before Charles gathered himself enough to consider breaking out of it.

Juliana, it seemed, had no such difficulties.

Charles whimpered softly at the thought of displeasing his mistress. Eager to make up for any perceived failings he moved swiftly to obey, but could not help the aroused groan that tore itself free of his lips as Juliana bent over. Her arse was exquisitely well-formed, and he bit his lip to hold back the painful surge of arousal that ran through him at the sight. Shivering with frustrated desire, he splayed himself over the table as he had been directed, pressing his chest and arms flat to the tabletop. Doing his best to remain still, he settled in to await his punishment.

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Charles did make a most excellent slave, perhaps the best of those who had played this game with her before. Juliana had the impression that he wasn't just 'playing,' that he truly did consider her his goddess while they were together. Some gentlemen were naturally submissive and actually needed the kind of attention that she was giving him. She was certainly enjoying her own role and she hoped that he was going to return to court in the spring. The self-proclaimed princess had considered visiting another country but he was more than enough to keep her here.


His whimper sent another surge of desire spiraling through her body, as did the sight of his nude form spread before her, for her to do with as she pleased. “Remember, be silent and do not move,” she reminded him, and then began to wield the crop, delivering a long series of lashes to his backside. His arse would sting and become red, but she was skilled enough not to leave bruises or draw blood.


And as she struck him, her own ardor intensified. Juliana hoped that he would be able to follow her instructions, for she could hardly wait to feel his rigid cock inside her.


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Juliana's musings were correct. Charles was completely immersed in their roleplay, did in the moment genuinely consider her his goddess. He was not currently in any state of mind to reflect on the matter but, had he been, Charles might have offered the suggestion that his performance came from the fact that, whatever he did, he did with the whole of himself. Whether it be playing the sporting cavalier in front of the King, the charming rogue with women, the hardened soldier with other military men, or, as now, the adoring slave with his Venus, Charles played the role to the hilt. He had no patience for half measures.

(He might also have noted that his task was made considerably easier by how well she performed hers. It was no great difficulty to believe Juliana Venus come to Earth.)

But thought itself was distant, never mind such quasi-philosophical musings. He was only dimly aware of how he must look, spread over the table like that, how exposed he was, but even that faint realisation was enough to ramp his arousal impossibly higher. Juliana's reminder of his instructions was timely, silencing his groans before he could voice them. He bit the inside of his cheek and waited for his punishment to begin.

Juliana did not leave him long in suspense, and laid on with a will. He could do nothing but stoically endure.

As Venus demands.

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In a way, Juliana supposed she was punishing Charles for winning their impromptu competition. It was usually harder for the man to postpone his climax than a woman. Yet the game they played dictated otherwise, as it was her call as to when he achieved completion and his job was to worship her. Which he had done wonderfully.


Mostly, though, she was chastising him for the pleasure of both of them. He did as she asked and was silent and still for the duration of her lashing. His arse became striped with red marks and when she couldn't tell where one left off and the other began, she knew when to stop. Charles was probably going to be in a mild amount of pain for a few days whenever he sat down.


Juliana cracked the riding crop through the air once and then set it down on one of the empty chairs. “You have pleased me, slave. You may rise and claim your reward.” She would leave it up to him as to where he decided to take her … on the table, in a chair, on the floor, or against a wall.


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Charles lifted his head, breath coming in ragged gasps. He was not quite certain of where he was, his head spinning with the intoxicating mix of arousal and pain his Venus had inflicted on him. It took him some moments to realise that that the whipping had ceased, and several more to both realise that Juliana had spoken and make sense of what she had said.

He blinked blearily and stood. He had regained a fingerhold on rationality, but it was just that: a fingerhold, and the hunger that rose in him now could no longer be denied. He growled deep in his throat, and turned to embrace Juliana, pressing her to his chest. He kissed her with almost bruising force, driven once more beyond thought by the feeling of her warm softness against him.

Breaking off the kiss, he lifted Juliana and pivoted to lay her down on the table. He paused, licking his lips as he took a moment to appreciate the wonderful sight before him. Gently, he encouraged her thighs apart and sheathed himself inside her. Charles waited a second to master himself before setting to in earnest. He did not expect to last overly long, and so determined to make the most of the experience for both of them.

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