Chapter 23

Iawoke with a start when the covers were ripped off me.

Matteo was standing over my bed. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Not having the energy to dig into the suitcase earlier, I just ripped off the itchy faceted overlay to my dress, ditched my panties and bra and collapsed into bed wearing the short silk shift.

Shocked, I scrambled to pull the blankets up over me. "How did you get in here? The door was locked."

He drilled me with a look. "There is no such thing as a locked door to me. Now explain yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lucia," he growled. "She's crying because of you."

He was standing over me in just a pair of gray sweatpants riding low on his hips with his hair still wet. His muscled chest and strange passionflower cult tattoo were on full display.

It took a moment for me to comprehend what he was saying, and then a wave of shame washed over me.

Forgetting all about how I was supposed to be Antonia, I clutched the covers to my breasts as I shook my head. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"You're damn right you should be sorry. Our staff is family here. We don't treat them like garbage."

I took a deep breath to slow my rapid heartbeat.

Whether or not I liked it, I needed to do this.

This was a matter of survival.

Channeling my sister and forgetting about my skimpy attire, I rose on my knees with hands on hips. "I didn't ask to be dragged to the middle of nowhere to marry some… stupid horse farmer… and I certainly didn't ask for her to bring me any food. If her feelings were hurt, it's her own damn fault."

I swept my arm wide to gesture to the bedroom entrance where the broken glass and tray were on a side table. "It's not like I ordered her onto her knees to clean it up!"

Fuck, how does my sister live with such darkness inside of her?

Those words were like an evil black tar coating my lungs.

Matteo's arm whipped out so quickly I didn't have time to react or defend myself. He wrapped his hand in my hair at the nape of my neck. "Horse farmer? I'm trying to be patient, but I have had it with this queen bitch attitude of yours."

My mouth fell open as I pressed my palms against his naked chest to push back. "My attitude? What about your arrogant, misogynistic attitude?"

No matter how hard I pushed with straightened arms, his grip did not slacken. His skin was distractingly hot beneath my palms. I had to resist the impulse to thread my fingers through his dark chest hair.

Why did a man's chest have to be so damn sexy? The low-slung gray sweatpants certainly weren't helping.

Warming up to my anger, I lashed out further. "And patient? Don't make me laugh. All you do is order me about, expecting me to jump to your command the moment you snap your fingers."

He wrenched me so close, my arms collapsed, and I was pressed against his chest. His mouth lowered until his breath caressed my lips. "It's not the snap of my fingers you're about to hear, but the snap of my riding crop against your flesh."

I screamed as he released his grip on my hair and swept me into his arms. "Put me down!"

He marched across the room to the living room area, where a low fire was still burning. Skirting around the sofa, he gave the tufted coffee-table ottoman a kick to push it closer to the fire. The swift forward motion sent the black lacquered tray filled with cream pillar candles sliding along the gold velvet fabric to crash onto the floor.

Matteo then dropped me onto the center and reached into his pocket for what looked like a handful of black ribbons.

The moment my bare ass hit the ottoman, I tried to roll off it.

He snatched my right wrist, secured a strip of black fabric around it, then knotted the other end to the mahogany leg post.

Immediately, I twisted my torso and stretched my left arm across my body to untie my wrist.

He grabbed my left wrist and pulled my arm to the other side and, with frightening speed, easily secured it to the other leg post.

"Stop! What are you doing?"

My back and head hit the ottomans cushioned surface as he yanked my hips toward the end of it then pushed my shoulders down flat, to better secure the ties to the mahogany leg posts. He then wrapped his large hand around my right ankle.

I kicked out with my left leg. "No! Untie me!"

The heel of my foot contacted his shoulder. My only reward was a dirty look and a small grunt as he easily bent my right knee and secured my ankle to the lower post. He then did the same for my left leg.

I was now tied spread-eagle over the rectangular ottoman like some pagan sacrifice on an altar, my upper arms out wide and my knees bent over the bottom edge.

"If you don't untie me this second, I'm going to scream until the entire household comes running."

Matteo pulled another black strip between his clenched fists as he smirked. "There is no one here to hear you. Besides, its going to be tough to scream when youre gagged."

My eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!"

He placed both knees on either side of my hips on the ottoman and leaned over me. "We're going to play a new game."

"I don't like your games."

His head tilted. "I'm really going to have to start videotaping these to prove you wrong, colomba mia birichina."

My cheeks burned as he opened his mouth and flicked the tip of his tongue at me. An erotic reminder of how he licked my pussy while I was stretched across my father's desk like a complete wanton.

Sciatiri e matri!

The skin around my wrists chafed as I yanked on my binds. "You cad! Untie me!"

As his hands hovered close to my mouth with the gag, I closed my lips and turned my head to the side. Strong fingers wrapped around my jaw, causing the edges of my teeth to press into the soft skin inside my cheeks.

Against my will, my mouth opened.

He slipped the fabric between my lips and lifted my head to tie it securely. It was tight enough to prevent me from talking, but not so tight that it cut into the corners of my mouth.

My tongue ran along the dry fabric as I still tried to talk, but all that came out were muffled, unintelligible sounds.

He stroked my cheek with the backs of his knuckles before he trailed his fingers down my neck and along my collarbone where they dipped along the scooped neck of my shift dress. With both his hands, he gripped the neckline.

I shook my head and tried to plead with him through the gag.

It was no use.

The harsh sound of silk tearing as he tore the dress in half rent the air over the crackling of the nearby fire. The silk floated to rest on either side of my torso, exposing my breasts and pussy to his gaze.

He winked. "Much better."

Rising off the ottoman, he crossed the room and returned with a black duffel bag. Unzipping the top, he pulled out a riding crop. This one differed from the one on the boat. The leather keeper was large and triangular, with two shiny metal circles in the center.

He locked eyes with me as he pressed the leather keeper against the pulse at the base of my throat. "This game is called stable master, and you're my defiant little

pony who needs to be broken in."

My hips bucked as I pulled on my restraints.

He ran the riding crop down between my breasts and over my stomach. "Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You're being a very bad pony," he warned. "You better calm down and behave."

I cursed at him through my gag. "Uuph modder ffffter."

The tip of the riding crop stopped between my thighs and over my pussy.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

A green light lit up on the handle of the riding crop at the press of his thumb against a small button.

I cried out as a pulse of electricity buzzed my pussy. It didn't hurt me as much as it shocked me, literally. My thighs quivered and strained against my binds in my effort to close my legs.

Matteo moved the riding crop back over my stomach to caress the lower curve of my right breast.

I shook my head violently from side to side, my eyes pleading with him.

"I'm sorry, babygirl. Whether or not you realize it, you need this."

He slapped my nipple with the riding crop, sending a sharp, intense pain radiating over my breast. His arm rose again. My muffled cry mingled with the snap of the leather against my left nipple.

"Just like a wild pony. You are acting out."

Just as the pain ebbed, he slapped my right nipple again.

I twisted my torso in an effort to turn onto my side to shield my left breast, but the binds around my wrists were too tight. He flicked my left nipple with as much force as before.

When I looked down, both nipples were bright pink, fully erect and swollen, as hot pain sparked over the sensitive flesh.

"And just like a wild pony, you need a firm hand."

The riding crop tongue circled my right aerole several times before he laid it over my nipple—and pressed the button.

My hips rose again as the shock hit me, sending pulsating waves through my breast. It was like an intense static shock. Again, it didn't hurt as much as it made my heart race and all the nerves along my skin stand on edge.

His cock lengthened down the inside of his thigh, a thick bulge pressed against the soft fabric of his pants. "You need to understand that I'm now your master, and I will not tolerate your obstinate behavior and willful disobedience."

My stomach clenched as the leather slid over it, then down the top of my thigh.

He circled around the ottoman until his spread legs straddled my head. Peering down at me, he shifted the leather keeper to my inside thigh.

I moaned as I once more tried to close my legs and attempt to talk around my gag.

Using his free hand, he caressed my lower lip. "Next time, I'll gag you with a metal bit between these full lips." His hand moved to cup my breast. "And perhaps a tight leather corset to make it feel like you're wearing a saddle. Would you like that, baby?"

He leaned over me and pressed the keeper along my exposed skin. "And a nice silver plug with a pretty pink horses tail."

The idea of me wearing a leather corset with a horsetail plug shoved up my ass while he guided a bit between my teeth should have had my mind screaming with fear and shock.

It definitely should not have caused a wave of arousal to course down my spine and settle like warm, liquid metal in the center of my core.

"With e-stim play, anticipating a shock is as sensually torturous as the shock itself. Wouldn't you agree, my naughty little pony?" he asked as he rubbed the rod of the crop between my pussy lips.

My mental focus was fixated on the leather keeper. My breath seized in my lungs every time it moved close to my clit.

Matteo chuckled as he went down on his haunches. The underside of his arm brushed my still overly stimulated right nipple as he continued to work the rod between my pussy lips. "My poor baby, did you think only the tip was electrified?"

My eyes widened as I cried out in protest.

To my horror, he pressed the button on the handle again. The rod of the riding crop sent a zing of electricity straight to my clit, sending an intense vibrating pulse straight through the vulnerable nub.

The moment the pulsing ebbed, he shocked me again.

A low, keening wail slipped from my throat. I was helpless to stop his erotic punishment.

"Is my naughty pony starting to understand how this works?"

I whimpered.

"Right now, I'm only using the low setting, but if you should disobey me…"

He left the rest of his threat unsaid.

I shook my head again, hopefully conveying to him he would not need the higher setting.

There was a tug behind my head as he loosened the gag. He pulled it from between my lips and over my chin, then rose to tower over me.

"You don't speak without permission. Do you understand?"

My tongue flicked out to lick my dry lips as I nodded.

He ran the riding crop up my other inner thigh. "Who is your master?"

My voice trembled as I answered. "You are."

"Brava ragazza."

Dark and twisted pleasure poured over me at his praise.

He gently tapped my pussy with the keeper. "You've disrespected your stable master with how you've behaved. Show me how sorry you are for being a bad little pony by asking me to whip your pussy."

"Oh my God, please don't!"

He whipped my inner thigh.

I yelped in pain.

"That wasn't what I asked. Do you need me to put the gag back?"

I shook my head.

"Then tell me what I want to hear."

A tear slipped out of the corner of my eye. "Please, I'm sorry I was mean to Lucia. I promise I won't do it again."

"Not good enough. You've made it clear that your pretty promises are worthless. The only way you are going to change is through the disciplinary kiss of the lash, like a true wild pony."

It was on the tip of my tongue to confess everything to him.

To tell him I was Ella, not Antonia.

That I wasn't his intended bride, in the hope he would spare me the humiliation of his punishment, but in a flash of clarity, I realized it would be in vain.

Whether I was pretending to be Antonia or being myself, I had still shown him the ultimate disrespect by behaving deplorably to his staff after being offered a kindness.

A shiver racked my body. I opened and closed my mouth several times but couldn't force the words out. Finally, after swallowing past the dryness, I whispered, "I was a very bad pony. Please punish me."

He lifted his arm and swatted me between my legs several times, ignoring my cries.

Then, to my embarrassment, just when I thought I couldn't take the painful stinging anymore, he forced the rod between my pussy lips again and shocked me.

But this time he didn't stop at just one pulsing shock.