Mistress of Venice
The Venetian Doge, Pietro Ballerini, gazed out a gothic window at the Grand Canal, feeling the refreshing salt breeze from the Adriatic Sea. Sounds of Agostini's "Anchor que col partir" filled the room as he struggled with the declining state of his empire. Spain, France, Holland, and Britain were gaining more territory while Venice's military strength diminished. He was trapped in a luxurious but deteriorating palace, surrounded by a city built on a marsh.
His marriage to Elisabetta, an Austrian princess, was not a passionate union. They shared a royal alliance but very little else. The two had lost two children and hoped their third pregnancy would be a boy, so their legacy would continue. Pietro requested physical affection from his wife, but she feared miscarriage and stopped having sex with him for months.
He left the room, where Elisabetta's beautiful playing of the harpsichord continued, distracted by his fears about the enemy forces closing in. Of course, he was not genuinely listening to the music.
*Doge's thoughts: These foreign rats better watch out. They think we're weak because we're not muscular like them. I'll show them!*
They had named their unborn child in anticipation of his birth.
Pietro headed toward the private dock. "Another visit to Madame Coletta," he thought to himself. She was not a fortune teller, but a sophisticated high-class prostitute whom he paid handsomely. He had seen her dozens of times in two months and was sure he would continue to visit her.
He passed by fishermen, the general population, and landmarks. They all glanced at this famous personage as his gondola passed. His rowers existed to transport him. As he left his palace, he imagined striking fear into his political enemies.
**Doge's thoughts: I'll destroy them all!
At the Santa Maria della Salute, a baroque style church, he felt the vibration of the Campanile's bells at half past two. He planned more wicked things.
"Two o'clock," he thought. "What will this evil plot, the culmination of this rotten narrative, be?"
He summed up his impending visit with the thought: "Do what you like, be the protagonist of this strange opera."
Beyond John's Island, his gondola slowly extended its oars as it continued its journey. Pietro commanded the gondoliers to stop the boat near Madame Coletta's house. Paying them, he made his way to the red door of her luxurious home, a modest villa. Pietro entered, and behind the curtains, he caught a glimpse of Madame Coletta. She, of course, welcomed him with an elegant smile.
"Good day, Your Excellency," she grinned. These two had been meeting often, but each session was unique. The man whose lips now spoke hers was not Pietro but the Venetian Doge.
In one corner of her salon, an inviting divan waited for them. Madame Coletta set two glasses and a decanter of wine on the table there. Pietro sat down, her eyes following. She sat opposite him, reaching under her petticoat, then stood up. She looked at him, naked above her shawl. Pietro took her hands, guiding her to him. Their glances met as he pulled up her shawl to reveal her face. Pietro forced her onto her knees, the two trading passion they didn't share with their spouses. "Iribe qo bazidiv," she murmured as his hand met her hair.
After their intimate encounter, her shawl returned to its hiding place. Pietro returned to his gondola, waiting as the gondoliers made their way to the water's edge. Pietro had gotten what he wanted, another sexual experience to use to escape his accumulating disappointments. "When will their lies run out?" He thought about his glamorous life and his plan to reclaim Venice. Maybe it was worth some meaningless carnal indulgence.
**Doge's thoughts:** "After a long day, couldn't I just have my life be inspired by romance instead of cold politics?"
Many of the other gondoliers filled the air with Italian folk songs. Pietro relaxed on a wooden bench and relished it all, eternally longing for the renowned dominatrix of Venice. His dreams were about to become disturbingly real, both painful and pleasurable.
The gondoliers navigated towards the left, entering the smaller Rio del Palazzo. They went under the infamous "Bridge of Sighs," a covered corridor leading from the Doge's Palace to the New Prison. There were two small windows in the bridge offering the last glimpse of the outside world to convicted criminals, before being imprisoned (if they weren't immediately hanged to death in Saint Mark's Square, in front of a crowd of curious citizens).
Doge Ballerini had executed four hundred thieves, cheats, killers, rapists, and traitors up to that point. He worked hard to uphold justice in the impoverished and crowded city. He was infamous for his harsh stance on every form of crime - except prostitution.
The magnificent architecture near the Grand Canal deteriorated as they approached. They passed by the houses of minor nobility. The gondoliers turned left at ca'Soranzo and entered the Rio de San Zulian. Madame Coletta's brothel became visible in the distance. The three-story Renaissance-style building had black wooden shutters that were always closed. The indecent moans and groans coming from within the building unveiled the real purpose of the Madame's business.
"Hold on now," Pietro told his gondoliers as they steered the boat into a small dock along the edge of the brothel. "Don't splash my expensive mink robe with dirty water, like last time."
They secured the boat to a wooden pole and Pietro hastily disembarked, scaring away a few pigeons. He climbed up a short flight of stairs and knocked on a heavy wooden door.
"Who is it?" Coletta's husky voice inquired from the other side.
"Your greatest pupil, Pietro. I'm here for another 'music lesson.'"
A small wooden panel slid open halfway through the door, showing her stunning sky-blue eyes framed by dark makeup.
"Hello again," she grunted, opening the door fully and gesturing for him to enter with a smirk. This striking brunette wore a black leather skirt and a tight black leather top, highlighting her ample bosom. Her mysterious gothic fascination was magnified by a black cap and veil with black raven feathers sticking out the back. A dark mistress with a hint of malevolence. Several other male patrons waited in the lobby, but they were instantaneously put on hold.
"Greetings, Ma'am."
"Greetings, Ma'am. This weather in Venice today is simply divine, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes," she muttered, dismissing his comment. "With the Carnevale season in full swing, I have numerous clients, so let's skip the exchanges and get down to business."
"As you wish, My Servile Teacher," he chuckled heartily. Madame Coletta turned around and climbed another set of stairs. Pietro followed, admiring her beautiful backside. He followed her down a hallway filled with rooms made for debauchery. The noises of pleasure and punishment echoed throughout the hall. One of the prostitutes shouted, "Oh, fuck yes! Squeeze my tits! Squeeze them so hard!"
She led him into a candlelit room lined with "bedrooms." Aside from one plush feather bed in one corner and a harpsichord in the other corner, the rest of the room was filled with peculiar erotic toys and bondage devices.
"I've been unable to stop thinking about you for an entire week, Ma'am. I crave your disciplinarian ways."
"After your music lesson," Madame Coletta replied coolly. "And after I collect payment for my services. Before I provide them."
"I understand, My Girly Boss," he muttering, reaching into a deep pocket in his robe. He pulled out a golden coin and presented it to her. The large coin bore a magnificent eagle on one side and Doge Ballerini's likeness on the other, riding a ferocious war stallion. His darling mistress took the coin, admiring its gleaming surface under the candlelight. Her pearly teeth bit down on it.
"You're welcome," she responded with her sultry voice, setting the coin on a small table by the bed. She picked up a large hourglass and flipped it over, starting their hour-long session with falling sand. "Now, disrobe!"
"Yes, Ma'am."
He promptly took off his brown leather boots, soft white fur robe, brown silk tunic, and white linen loincloth. His sizable eight-inch penis stood out proudly, pointed at her leather-clad groin. The warm, humid air felt refreshing against his bare skin, with strange echoes of seagulls and singing gondoliers drifting through the closed black shutters.
"Nice work, Your Serenity," Coletta complimented, admiring his fit body. "You've been adhering to my diet and training advice. Let's see if you've been practicing your musical abilities in that grand mansion."
"As you command, Madam," he responded wearily. She relocated a small bench in front of a harpsichord, which featured a mermaid sculpture resting between the support posts. A tranquil seascape was painted underneath the open lid, held open by a wooden rod. Pietro sat down on the red velvet bench and gazed blankly at the ivory keys.
"Play my favorite toccata by Claudio Merulo. D'intavoltura d'organo," she instructed, taking a black leather riding crop from a shelf.
"I'll do as you ask, Madam."
Pietro's fingers fumbled over the keys, messing up the minor-inflected opening notes. His hormone-infused mind struggled to concentrate on Merulo's stunning achievement.
"Play it correctly!" Coletta barked, hitting his right hand with the riding crop. He winced in slight pain. The toccata stopped in its tracks.
"Sorry, Madam."
He attempted it again, still with a similar outcome. He imagined her fucking him forcefully in bondage.
"Misbehaving! Have you been practicing at all in your palace, or have you merely been idling around with your Hapsburg trophy wife?"
"I have been practicing, Madam," The Doge of Venice whimpered.
"Don't lie to me, you treacherous arrogant ass!"
Fear overwhelmed him. Sweat appeared on his forehead in the stuffy dormitory, perched twelve feet above the canal. "I... I... "
"Misbehaving!" she scolded, lashing his brawny right bicep with the crop. She struck his other arm five times, causing him to yell loudly. "You didn't earn my body today. You earned a severe punishment!"
"Oh no," Pietro whispered fearfully, even though a severe punishment was exactly what he wanted.
"Get off that bench," she instructed.
"Yes, Madam." He stood up and stood in front of the window, preparing for another ride. She lead him over to an 8-foot-tall X-shaped wooden framework with metal rings at the ends. His favorite bondage platform. "Assume the position, captive!"
"Yes, Madam."
Pietro extended his limbs to match the beams. Coletta took some small leather straps and tied his wrists and ankles tightly to the beams using metal rings.
"There you go. Helpless, like all those people you've sentenced to death based on flimsy evidence."
She whipped his rock-hard pecs with her riding crop, making groans escape his lips.
"Cross the Bridge of Sighs, captive! Take one last look at the canal, and your grand palace. Bask in the afternoon sunlight, reflecting on the peaceful water."
She struck his nipples with the crop. He laughed and growled simultaneously.
"One last moment of independence, you ruthless king! What does it feel like to submit? To give up everything?"
He spat back defiantly at her beautiful face. "Shut up, you lesbian daughter of a filthy whore."
"Stai zitto CAZZO!"
She struck him mercilessly across his chest with the horse whip.
"Yes, beat the hell out of me!" he howled, writhing in bondage. He used to revel in his authority, inflicting sexual chastisement on his wife and many other women who captured his attention. He received great pleasure from their anguished expressions. However, as his personal and political issues worsened, an inclination for submission bubbled up from his subconscious.
"You certainly deserve this!" she snarled.
"You don't understand what I deserve. You're just a dumb whore."
She whipped his pectorals ten more times, then swerved downward, hitting his dick and balls. He groaned even louder, enjoying the pleasurable pain radiating through his vulnerable groin area. Drool dripped from the corners of her mouth as she continued to inflict punishment, revealing the masochistic excitement that arised within her own genitals.
"I'm taming your wild wild snake, Doge Ballerini. Extracting the venom from your teeth and making you a real man."
"Oh god, Madam. Please don't stop. Whip my balls so hard!"
She gripped a lengthy, thick leather strap and swung it with a heavy underhand motion, striking the rear end of his bag and all the way up his butt crack. The numerous nerve endings in his anal sphincter flared with stinging pleasure.
"Ooh shit, that's my favorite spot! Keep whipping my ass, Mistress!"
She struck his sphincter with the strap six more times, then she picked out a cane rod from the shelf and whacked that sweet spot even harder. His entire body shook and trembled in ecstasy.
"Oh my god, you're such a freaky woman. I want to fuck your pussy, Mistress!"
"Ah-ah, not yet. You haven't been punished enough," Madame Colletta said mockingly. "I'm sending you to the stocks. Humiliating you just like all those petty thieves in Saint Mark's Square."
She unfastened his wrists and ankles from the X-shaped beams, then led him across the room to a pillory platform that resembled the weather-beaten ones in the town square by the Grand Canal. Pietro grumbled sulkily.
"Stop whining, Doge Ballerini. Lay your neck on the line for your kingdom, piggish fellow!"
"Yes, Mistress," he whined back. He bent over horizontally, lowering his neck and wrists onto curved notches in the lower board. She slammed the upper board down and locked it in place, making him powerless again.
"Now that's a sight your citizens would love to see," Madame Colletta laughed. "Their proud corrupt emperor in pathetic bondage, naked as a bird."
She walked around to the front of the stocks and grabbed a big wooden paddle from a shelf.
"Awww damn," Pietro grunted.
"Time for a good hard spanking, you naughty little boy. Your loving parents never punished you, but I will."
She caressed his ass cheeks tenderly, then replaced her smooth touch with the harsh kiss of wood.
Thwack!
"Ooh hooh shiiit!" he grunted in delight.
Thwack!
"Ooooh god, yes!"
"Naughty naughty boy, loving your punishment. I must not be swinging hard enough."
She paddled his ass with a firestorm of anger, making even louder smacking noises that echoed off the marble walls of the dormitory. He whimpered and laughed simultaneously, moving back and forth against the stocks.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
"Therefore all things that you would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them, for this is the law and the prophets!" Colletta declared theatrically. "It takes a woman like me to enlighten you in a man's world!"
She spanked him more and more, raising his perverse pleasure to greater heights. Ten more whacks was all he could endure.
"Mercy, mistress! Mercy! Please set me free, and let me fuck you!"
"Not yet, prisoner. I'm going to fuck you first."
"Oh god, yes! Sodomize me wickedly in the heart of Gomorrah, like the Witch of Endor!"
Madame Colletta chuckled at his strange combination of biblical references. She then hastily removed every piece of clothing she was wearing. Her shiny leather bodice hit the wooden floor with a pleasing thud, revealing her amazing breasts and wet hairy pussy.
"Oh my god, Mistress. You're so fucking beautiful."
"I bet you don't say the F word around your empress anymore," she mused. She retrieved a long smooth dildo made of balsa wood, with leather buckle straps attached through a metal loop. She uncorked a bottle of extra virgin olive oil and spread it generously over the wood. Properly lubricated, she secured that prosthetic cock snugly around her slender waist and wide firm hips.
"Damn, you're giving me quite the hard-on," she remarked, waving that wooden rod teasingly in front of his face. He stuck his tongue way out, trying to taste that delectable oil.
"Ah-ah, no licking," she scolded, gently slapping his face. "This dick is going right into the Doge's anal cavity."
She stepped around the pillory platform and shoved that stick up his rectum, inspiring triumphant howls.
"Fuck yeaaah!" she roared while thrusting away, striking her leather-covered crotch against his reddened rump. "I love humiliating nobles like you."
"Sodomize me brutally, harlot! I fucking love it!"
"Yeah, you filthy perv. The way that phony cock brushes against my clit, every time I cram it up your ass," she ranted while panting frantically during a wild sex session. "Oh crap, I'm about to come! Ohh, ohhhh, oooooWAAAAAA-HA-HA-HAAAAAA!"
Her intense orgasm lasted so long, changing her into a giggly heap of soft jelly, with that big dildo inserted deep within his rectum. She gently removed it, sighing with satisfaction.
"Okay, Your Highness. I've had my fun. Now it's your turn to have some fun."
She removed the locking devices and uncovered them. He slowly rose to his feet, rubbing his cramping back muscles. She took his right hand and led him to a tall rectangular wooden structure.
"Put your arms up and grab that beam, Doge Ballerini. You're going to fuck me while I'm bound, standing and delivering. Just the way I prefer it."
"Exactly the way I like it, Mistress," he smirked, eagerly grabbing hold of the top board. Madame Coletta fastened another pair of leather straps around his wrists, locking him in place for the climatic ending. She moved right in front of his face and looked sternly into his brown eyes with her huge captivating sky-blue eyes.
"Fuck me like you fuck your frau wife, mein reichen und geschenkter Verrückter."
"I'll fuck you like a prostitute, slut."
She glared furiously and slapped his left cheek. He turned the other cheek, and she slapped with equal force. He snarled threateningly and pushed forward, slamming his enormous dick deep into her.
"Ohh fuck!" she groaned loudly with her eyes rolling back in her head. "Rail me, Doge Ballerini!"
She grabbed the upper beam to steady herself as he drilled into her passionately. Fucking her harder than he ever fucked Elisabetta.
"Take that big forceful cock, you fucking witch-slut."
"Take me harder, verdammter Scheißhund!" she snarled viciously, clamping her vaginal muscles hard against his enormous throbbing penis. "You won't cum without my permission," she commanded firmly.
"Whatever you say, Madam," he grunted defensively. This mysterious dominatrix subdued his masculine pride, but also unleashed his masculine energy. His many concerns over his failing empire and marriage spilled out in a magnificent flow. Mercilessly hammering into that raven-haired gothic woman harder than Zanetta, his favorite black mare at his summer estate near the Alpine mountains.
"Oh my god, Doge! I love your huge horse cock! Giddy up, giddy up!"
She smacked his ass like a horse. He fucked her even faster, releasing his anger against her delicate skin. Memories of various prostitutes played in his mind. Particularly Avelia, a busty blonde temptress who was the direct opposite of Coletta. A subservient prostitute who enjoyed being tied up, whipped, and screwed. Accepting his dominance gratefully, constantly craving more. Just like his air-headed Austrian wife.
"Please, permission to cum, Mistress?"
"Not yet, captive! You're going to fuck me until I'm satisfied, ver manner"!
He continued ramming, swaying his body limply from the leather straps. Loving the freedom of that vertical bind gave him the strength of muscles operating at maximum intensity. His balls turned a deep blue like the Adriatic Sea.
"Oh god. Please let me cum, Mistress!"
"As you command, Your Highness," Coletta moaned ecstatically. She pulled away, turned around, and got on her knees, facing his eight-inch cock. "Spray your load all over mein schönes Gesicht."
She cradled his dick, tilted her head back, and jerked him off as forcefully as possible. It only took five seconds for him to explode, both physically and metaphorically. Powerful streams of sperm shot out, covering her face as he howled like a stomped cat. She moaned joyfully, enjoying the calming substance. She spread it all over his face with his glistening dick, sticking out her tongue and licking up her foul reward.
"Suck that cum out of my cock, whore!"
Madame Colletta dove back in, lapping up every drop, humming loudly against his beating penis. His piercing groans eventually quieted down. She wiped all his ejaculate off her face, rubbing it into her mouth and gulping it down like a good girl.
"Another day, another ducat," she joked, rising up and freeing him from confinement. She moved to the window with the timekeeping device. "This hourglass is still halfway full, so... let's just snuggle for a bit."
Lying languorously on the plush feather mattress, splaying out her legs and clasping her breasts, she welcomed his approach. He joined her, positioning himself alongside her smooth body, holding her firmly in his strong arms, resembling a child endearingly clutching a stuffed animal.
"I'm particularly intrigued by your sharp humor, Madam Coletta. Speaking words sure to bring anymore to the gallows."
"Do I hold a place in your heart above your empress?"
"I hold a position of affection for you, crowned jewel of my affections."
"Doge Ballerini, you barely know me."
"I know enough about you. We are two pieces destined to fit together, my dark facet."
"The way I fit you?" she snickered. "Just a silly, love-struck jester donning royal garments."
"A lovesick fool for you, madly enamored."
"A noble emperor of Venice, entranced by a prostitute? Let's pray your spouse won't uncover this."
"Elisabetta is bound to determine my infidelities. I'm evidently a philanderer, yet she likes me dearly."
"I too would smother you in adoration, with all the riches, precious gems, watercrafts, horses..."
"Wealth can't acquire joy."
"However, it can procure ecstasy."
Tucked up in the luxurious feather slumber, Doge Ballerini longingly inhaled his tormenting thoughts of Coletta. As the distant oars splashed through the canal and a gondolier's cheerful rendition echoed below:
A beautiful brown-haired girl
The charming boys make their rounds...
Papa doesn't want, Mama not either,
How will we make love...
He took a voyage into his mind, discovering a myriad of lascivious daydreams starring Coletta. Whipping him in each room of the Doge's Palace and flogging her in every other Venetian building. He yearned for her erotic torment, fueling his desire for life. Always returning to his empress. Founded in awe of her innocent features as her fingertips glided delicately across the golden harpsichord. Her personality lackluster, yet her musical abilities were extraordinary.
He traced his hands across Coletta's silky limbs while fantasizing about Elisabetta's gentle limbs. Slipping into slumber on a glorious spring day, lulled by the melodic Italian folk music from beneath. Imparting images of his exquisite spouse in a white ballerina gown, delightfully prancing upon the Venice opera stage, with an enthusiastic audience in attendance. Turning all attention on him as she glided endlessly, chanting his name.