The Surrender of Lady Charlotte Read Online Free PDF Page B

minutes moseyed by, while the dungeon and Charlotte waited for his decree. Finally, having all things clear in his mind, he announced to Caius, “Shave away her hair and let her serve as the lowliest of your slaves.”
    It took some seconds for the intent of his decree to dawn on his withered bride. She climbed to her shaky feet, imploring him, “Ah, please no, sir. You take my pride, my hair, my self-respect, all that?”
    He shook her off as she clutched his arm, while Caius grabbed the desperate woman with a firm hand. “If it takes robbing you of everything including your beauty, so shall it be. Besides, since we have the rest of your life to accomplish your surrender,” Mountbane went on, “what are a few months of abject degradation when eternity stretches before us? By the time your body has repaired from the bruises and your hair has grown to its full length, you will have succumbed.”
    “No, I cannot,” she struggled with no results, but more frustration.
    “Oh, but you can,” her husband countered. “And gag her, Caius, if she can’t keep her tongue.”
    Resolved, Mountbane strode into the darkness to the stairs, while the silent dungeon heard the shuffle of his footsteps as he returned to the lands above.
     
    d
     
    That evening there was a pile of flaxen hair on the dungeon floor, mingling there with Charlotte’s tears. She wept bitterly over her fate—turned into an abject creature of vile abuse, with a collar about her neck and metal manacles that would remain about her ankles and wrists should, in her jailer’s mind, the need for them arise. The chastity belt returned, fitting even more securely being tightened down by Caius’ mighty force. It was customary for idle men to scour the dungeon for a slaves to bed. Because Charlotte was considered the most prime target for an anxious dick in Mountbane’s realm, the device was necessary to ensure that she would finally come to her marriage bed the virgin she was when she arrived in Ilusia. (This was, perhaps, Caius’ greatest fear—that he would fail his master. The enslaved wife of his noble Lord was too fair a flower in his eyes) Though Charlotte vowed against Mountbane’s intended outcome, no one else doubted his resolve or his schemes for realizing his wish. His God-like ability to woo, inspire and manipulate was what made most women in the tiny northern province lust for their handsome Lord.
    In the days that followed her initiation in the dungeon, Charlotte was a petulant and shrewish slave, regularly punished for her misdeeds and often gagged for hours for her reckless tongue. Her ass took the brunt of abuse, being bitten by paddle, leather slappers and thin cutting switches as often as she disobeyed or showed her captor a less than compliant attitude. She was not made for such subservience, she was certain, but there was no one who agreed with her. Women in Ilusia had few rights—only those they might earn as compliant wives—and she was neither a happy nor a willing wife who could beguile a horny husband and so gain something for herself.
    To ensure her complete abasement, Charlotte’s hands were bound behind her when she was fed, which forced her to lap food from her plate like a dog. She was kept in a cell, where she couldn’t stand, but only lie or sit uncomfortably crouched. And to take care of her private needs, she was forced to relieve herself in a chamber pot, which Caius placed in the center of the dungeon so all could see her private ritual turned into a humiliating exhibition. For the first weeks of her trial, these stiff measures did little but anger the headstrong Charlotte. She would not be broken—so she resolved.
    Despite her great determination, there was a strange haunting in her heart and belly, something deeply unsettling that she could not explain. Her initial flogging in the dungeon had left her sexually breathless, with a fire inside her groin that had not died. This knowledge of her hidden character would not