We shall attend the Carnival Ball in full Venetian regalia. Sir will be wearing a light tuxedo with a simple half mask. I shall wear a matching 16th century dress with a full Venetian mask. No part of my body, aside from heavily made up eyes, will be visible for the entire night. Beneath the gown, though, will be constant reminders that I am to remain silent. That I am to mind my manners. That I am, in fact, his. Sir had the mask specially created for me so that the it fits my face snuggly. I will not be able to move my chin enough to speak, eat, or drink. This won’t be a problem since Sir made sure I had plenty to eat and dring before leaving home. He has also assured me that we will stay at the ball no more than five hours. In order to properly fit into the dress, I also must wear a corset which Sir made sure was laced good and tight. I will not be ending over. Before putting this one, though, he used a cane on my bottom – one stripe for every hour we would be there. Each one was hard and fast, leaving a welt of fire across my ass and a molten heat inside my body. Next, he warned me about the lecherous men who would be there, about how it was not unusual for an unscrupulous man and a horny, desperate woman to sneak away and a enjoy a quick fuck. Under no circumstance, he warned, would I be allowed such liberties, even thought it was the Carnival season. To ensure my respect of his rule, he first inserted two metal plugs into a chastity belt. I begged him, promised that I would never consider such a thing. He just smiled and said that this was insurance, not only for my protection, but also to make sure that I’d stay wet the entire night. I argued with him while he locked me into the device, but I couldn’t deny what he said was true. As soon as the dual plugs pushed into each of my holes they were coated with my own juices. Next, he laced me into the heavily boned, under the breast corset. Then, to my surprise, he put clips on my already hard nipples. These, he said, I would wear while he dressed. That way my nipples would be tender all evening and as such, they would stand out beautifully. While He dressed, I was to arrange my hair beneath my headdress and put on my mask. When he finished, He pulled off the clips. I moaned, but the mask prevented me from crying out. Then, he held the dress for me to step into, put slippers on my feet and escorted me from the house. We walked the short distance to the ball. People stared, but in awe, not surprise. Everyone new that tonight was Carnival. I would, he told me, dance with whomever asked me, but I would not leave the ballroom. Five hours later, my feet were killing me, sweat was running between my breasts, and my thighs were drenched from the juices which were leaking from my pulled holes. Sir took my by the arm and we made our goodbyes. Finally, we were on our way home.