A/N: Thanks for sticking with me. Like I said to most of you, answers are coming. In the meantime, please accept this offering. Oh, and Tribute Rick is S8 Rick. I will post a picture to my Tumblr. Okay, enjoy!
The sound of nails being hammered into wood is persistent; a steady thrumming that resembles the passing of time being marked by a ticking clock. Rick doesn't know how much time has passed since he and the other Tributes began work on fortifying the Arena. They started when the sun was just crawling into the sky. He helped to carry the large planks of wood from the carts to the inside of the Arena. It is walled by reinforced steel, and the stands are made from wood. Summer storms have damaged some of the seating area, so the fighters are tasked with repairs.
Rick and Maggie are now nailing the last of their planks in place. Morgan came by a few times to admire their handiwork; he is a good man, Rick figures. The sun is high in the sky, so they know that a break is near. Rick's arms ache and he is drenched in sweat; his young friend is much the same.
"You headin' up to get some food?" asks Maggie as she wipes away the sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her too-big shirt.
"Yeah," Rick replies. "I'll clear this lot away first. You?"
"Yep. You know it. Gonna head on up there right now," she answers, almost too eagerly. Rick wonders why she is enthusiastic to eat. He brushes his curiosity aside.
"Alright," he offers. "I'll see back at the training grounds later."
He watches his friend make her hasty retreat, and then begins to pack away the tools they were using. Once all of the implements are safely stored in their containers, Rick decides to amble over to the water tank in hopes of catching a glimpse of Her Ladyship. The warmth of the sun does not serve as a deterrent after the backbreaking work he has completed. Somehow, the mere thought of casting his eyes on the stunning Lady of the Citadel invigorates him.
Rick spots her in the private training area before he reaches the tank. Immediately, his body responds to seeing her; a smile spreads across his dry lips and his manhood twitches. He keeps his gaze locked on her as she goes through the motions of training the younglings.
"Raise your blades!" she commands, and the young people do so. "One-two-three-swing!"
The sound of the blades cutting through the air in unison, coupled with their seemingly improved technique, causes the Lady to smile. Rick fills his cup and continues to observe their session.
"Again," Michonne calls out. "One-two-three-swing!"
Their perfectly timed strikes are even better than their first. Rick is impressed with their skills, as well as with Lady Michonne's tutelage. He is certain she is very persuasive, with a firm hand. His thoughts wander to more devious imaginings as he briefly muses about just how firm her hands can be.
Being a keen warrior, she feels when she is being watched. She notices Rick standing off in the distance, and is drawn to him. She quints in his direction while giving her next instructions.
"Patrick," she calls to one of the teens. "Take half of the group to the back of the grounds to work on their parrying. Missy, keep the rest here to practice their slashing. I will be back in a minute."
With that, she fixes her sword to her back and strides in Rick's direction. He watches until she is close, and then averts his gaze.
"Kneel," she demands, and Rick drops to one knee immediately. "You do know ogling me while I train is a punishable offence?"
"Yes, My Lady."
"Yet you do it so brazenly."
"Your Ladyship, you told me you liked when I watch."
"You will be quiet," she says, thinking he is a rather cheeky. She isn't really offended by his staring; she does quite enjoy it. "Like I said, this is a punishable offence, and I would very much like to punish you. I'll let the guards know that you're to be brought to my playroom after training. You will wait for me to come to you. You will be ready. Is that clear?"
"Yes, My Lady. Thank you, My Lady."
…..
The playroom is separate from the main house. It is located in a small brick structure down one of the garden paths. The walls are a dark grey; the windows covered with red velvet. Many apparatuses furnish the space. Rick recognizes a vault horse; bondage swing; and a throne chair. He looks at them as he waits for his Mistress.
Rick is naked and kneeling on the floor in the center of the room near one device, known as a Saint Andrew's cross. It resembles a large X. It is made of dark wood and capable of reclining thanks to an intricate lever system Lord John had fitted for his beloved. Black leather straps are fixed to the cross in strategic places. Its main purpose is to hold a submissive in place while their betters have their way. His dick quivers when he thinks of being tied to the cross while Lady Michonne does what she wants.
His gaze falls on one of the walls next. Fixed to it is a shelf full of various instruments of erotic torture. Crops; paddles; candles; shackles; switches; phalluses; clamps; and other items stand on the wooden plane. On the next shelf sits Wartenberg pinwheels; urethral sounding tools; cotton swabs; needles; and other medical contraptions.
On the other wall, there are various leather collars and leashes hanging beside more whips and chains. Rick finds himself growing harder as his anticipation heightens. He does not know how long he has been kneeling in this delightfully terrifying room, but he hopes his Mistress will soon join him.
…..
The heavy, wooden door creaks as it opens. Rick remains still, not daring to look. When no one enters, he chances a glance to the doorway. Immediately, he hears Her Ladyship's tut-tuts that show her disapproval.
"I didn't say you could move, Tribute," she says, before stepping into the room. Her black, knee-high boots click against the cold floor. She steps in front of Rick and looks down at him. Not wanting to displease her further, he keeps staring straight ahead. He notices she is wearing a very short, formfitting black dress that shows off her long legs. Her waist is cinched with a black leather corset which pushes her breasts up high. Her hair is pulled away from her face in a ponytail. He wants so badly to reach out and touch her, but thinks the better of it. He keeps his gaze even and looking forward.
Lady Michonne takes hold of his hair and pulls it back so that he is forced to look up at her. She takes her free hand and cups Rick's face. She runs her fingers over his full lips, and then brings them to his neck. She offers him a small smile and then proceeds to wrap her fingers around his throat, applying enough pressure to the sides to slow the blood flow to his brain. Rick immediately feels lightheaded and his cock twitches.
Lady Michonne releases her hold on his curls, but then tightens her grip on his throat as she says, "Get to your feet."
Rick does as he is told. Their height difference is noticeable as he stands before her, with her strong, yet slender fingers still around his thick neck. She pushes him backward a little, moving him in the direction of the cross. Their eyes remain locked on one another; Rick keeps his arms at his sides and lets her handle him in a way that no one else has in some time. Suddenly, she stops pushing, and relinquishes her hold on his throat. She remains close, gestures toward the cross, and then says, "Get in position."
…..
Leather straps hold Rick in place on the cross. They are fixed to his ankles, thighs, arms, and wrists. His legs are spread, and his arms are raised above his head. He is gagged and naked. His big, thick cock is standing defiantly at attention. Michonne takes him in; her eyes roam all over his body. She steps close to him and runs her finger over his many scars. He is a warrior, always has been. She remembers how he would fight for glory in her father's Arena. That was so long ago now, back when she was a timid young girl.
She isn't timid anymore. Using her finger nails, she scratches his chest. It leaves a red mark on his already flushed skin. She smiles to herself and then brings the same fingers to his nipple. She thumbs it until it grows stiff, and then pinches it. Rick lets out a muffled moan, and she stares into his eyes. She pinches again, rougher this time, and his eyes close a moment. This causes Her Ladyship to smile once more. She thumbs his erect nipple again, before leaning down and bringing her mouth close to the little pink bud. Using her tongue, she licks it, before sucking it into her mouth. She hears Rick moan as he squirms a little.
"You like that, don't you?" she asks, before repeating the action and then ripping the gag from his mouth.
Her Ladyship then turns her attention to the other nipple. She rubs it and pinches it, and Rick moans. She feels her pussy begin to drip at the sound of his throaty growl. She stares at his face as she pulls the nipple while pinching it between her finger and thumb. Rick's tongue slips from his mouth. Next, she dips her head to swirl her tongue over the inflamed little pebble before sucking it between her teeth and biting it.
"Ahhhh," Rick cries out, and his dick jerks on its own.
Lady Michonne licks his nipple one more time and then peppers kisses up his chest to his neck. She takes hold of his prick and strokes it a few times. She brushes his curls behind his ear, and then whispers, "You're a noisy one, aren't you?"
He makes no reply, so she grips his dick tighter and commands, "You will answer me."
Rick's head is spinning from her proximity and the feeling of her hand squeezing his manhood.
"Yes, My Lady, I'm noisy," he manages. This pleases her, so she strokes his cock some more, causing his breathing to grow heavy and his mouth to open in the shape of an O.
"Good," she replies, as she stops her ministrations. "No one can hear us in here so we can be as loud as we like."
…..
"Hmmmmm," Michonne moans loudly as she rolls her hips. She is squatting over Rick's face with her legs wide open, while he is strapped to the now reclined cross. She rubs her pussy down his aquiline nose and back to his mouth. His tongue laps at her sweet center and she rubs her clit.
Rick drinks her as he stiffens his tongue and plunges it deep onside her opening. She reaches down and grabs his hair with both hands as she rides his face. He sucks her clit into his lips and she moans once more. His cock trembles at the sounds she is making; it drips from the dominion she holds over him. He can do nothing to relieve himself as she fucks his face.
"Suck it harder," she demands as she feels her climax approaching. "Hmmm you've got such a good mouth."
Rick obliges as he licks and sucks at her sensitive little nub harder and faster.
"Oh, fuck," she breathes as he quickens his pace. "Fuck."
Soon thereafter, Lady Michonne cries out loudly and then comes in her Tribute's mouth. He captures all of her juices, not spilling one drop. Overstimulated and excited, while still bound to the cross, Rick's cock explodes in orgasm before his sated, panting Lady can even catch her breath.
…..
"You're late," says Morgan as he sits by the small fire near the outside area of the Pugilist Quarters.
"Sorry," says Rick. "I was tied up."
"Bet you were," Morgan replies, before holding out a cup. "Here, have one drink with me."
"Thanks," says Rick, taking the cup and sipping from it. The wine goes down nicely. "I really don't mean to disrespect what you've got here. I know you're in charge of us…"
Morgan waves his hand and says, "Nah, don't mention it. I know how things are around here. No matter what rules I have in place, there's always someone with more power than me who's gonna say otherwise. Just be happy it's Her Ladyship."
Rick feels his face grow warm. He did not realize that anyone other than her Attendants and sentries knew he was a new plaything of Hers. He recovers and then surmises he can use this opportunity to get more information.
"Yeah, well, I respect what you have to do, so I am sorry for comin' back late," he says.
"It's fine, Rick," Morgan offers while sipping from his drink. "I've been here long enough to know how that shit goes."
"How long?"
"Let's see; twenty years or so," says Morgan.
"No shit?"
"Yeah."
"Lord John that good of a Master, eh?"
"He's…adequate," says Morgan, and both men share a chuckle.
"And Her Ladyship?"
"I don't know," says Morgan. "He keeps her all to himself, for the most part."
"So, she doesn't usually mingle with the help?"
"Not that I know of," he offers. "But you've been spending more time with her than you have with us training, so maybe you know better than I do."
"I don't know much."
"Yeah, well, enjoy it while you can. Lord John's not the most sharing and caring man."
"You sure about that?"
"Positive," says Morgan as he pours another drink. "I came here with him."
"Wasn't his father Lord before him?"
"God, no," says Morgan, almost spitting his drink out. "Lord John came here as a young man of twenty-five and put a blade right through the heart of the other Lord of the Citadel. Most don't remember that."
"So, he stole the power?"
"That's one way of puttin' it."
"And Her Ladyship? Did he steal her, too?"
"You should be careful about talkin' like that. His Lordship has ears everywhere."
"Right," says Rick. "So, Lady Michonne? When did she get here?"
"She came here as a Tribute about fifteen years ago. Prettiest little thing I've seen in a dog's age. Feisty. Good with a sword. She wanted to fight, if I recall correctly. Lord John didn't want that. Took a real liking to her. Guess he fell in love with her. It happens."
"Does she love him?" Rick finds himself asking, though it has nothing to do with gathering information. He is genuinely curious.
"I like you, Rick. I do. But you shouldn't be sticking your nose where it ain't wanted. Lady Michonne likes you, so enjoy it while it lasts because Lord John won't tolerate this little thing y'all have got going on for too much longer. He's killed men for a lot less. Serve his wife until she's satisfied, but don't go gettin' caught up. We should retire for the night. There's more work to do tomorrow before His Lordship's birthday comes around."
Rick nods his head and finishes his drink. He has learned a few things, mostly that she must live a lonely existence, but has more questions that need answering. When the Lady of the Citadel, if the Lady of the Citadel calls on him again, he will need to change his approach and gain her trust. He licks his lips, still tasting hints of her nectar with the wine, and silently hopes she will be willing to open herself up to him in a different way.