To love, honour, and obey

"Clarissa is your bride now, Lucy," Edmund said. "Take her."

"Yes," Lucy said. Her fingers knitted into Clarissa's red hair.

Clarissa whimpered. "Lucy, Lucy," she whined.

Lucy swallowed, took a deep breath and steadied herself. "Clarissa, Lady Netherwood, do you promise to love, honour, and obey me as your lord in life?" she said. Lucy's ears sang with blood. She felt light-headed, dizzy even."

Clarissa sniffled. "I do. I promise."

This woman, who from the moment Edmund had courted her, had been little but trouble, whim, and annoyance to Lucy, knelt before Lucy and gave her submission. Lucy's breast swelled. Was this pride?

"Then I am your lord," Lucy said. "And I take you as my...bride." Lucy blinked. But it was no dream to blink away. Lucy pulled gently up on Clarissa's red tresses. "Rise, Clarissa."

"Oh Lucy!" Clarissa said. She tilted her chin up, her shorter stature more evident with both of them out of heels.

Lucy unknit her fingers from Clarissa's hair and bent to embrace this troublesome, childish woman. Lucy wrapped her strong arms around Clarissa's petite frame and pressed Clarissa to her body, then sealed her possession with a kiss. Clarissa melted into her arms. Lucy's heart thumped hard, feeling Clarissa surrender to her, body and soul. I've won, she thought, cherishing Clarissa's submission to her. "But have I won, indeed?" Lucy had just rewarded Edmund's petulant, wilful wife by accepting her submission.

Lucy lifted her eyes to see Edmund regarding them, his eyes twinkling, but his expression blank.

"Edmund, let us take our bride," Lucy said.

"Yes, yes," Clarissa said.

"You shall kiss upon my parts, Clarissa, and show me your devotion to good service. Edmund shall use you as he will."

"Yes, Lucy," Clarissa said, inclining her head.

Lucy raised up the hem of her ripped nightdress and sat upon the fold-out shelf-bed of the airship cabin. She parted her thighs and gestured to Clarissa to kneel before her.

"Clarissa, serve me. Lick me." Lucy's head still floated upon the unreality of it all. But it was true, she was Clarissa's mistress, from the moment that morning when her inheritance was revealed, and this moment put the seal upon it.

Clarissa's tongue was eager yet sloppy, and this very eagerness, clumsiness, had its own appeal. The hunger in Clarissa's mouth, the eagerness to please, Clarissa's snuffling moans and sighs as she ate at Lucy's womanly lips, her opening, her pearl, all fed Lucy's own desire.

When Edmund knelt and put his prick into Clarissa from behind, Clarissa's moans took on a higher note, an urgent keening, her mouth getting more eager, more sloppy in her licking and sucking. But it was Lucy who rose to the heights first. She clutched Clarissa's head to her cunt, pressing hard as the ache and want inside her rose into fire and spilled over.

Lucy snatched her hands up and folded her arms tightly across her mouth to stifle her triumphant cry of joy and victory.