The beldam pushed Yvain through the door, then followed, closing the door behind her. “Your bride, Seigneur,” she said, and curtsied.
Yvain, naked, with a thick leather strap in her mouth, could not curtsy. You had to be wearing something for that. So she did not move, hoping that was the right decision.
The Seigneur regarded Yvain, smiling. It was not a friendly smile: he was pleased with his new acquisition. Yvain kept her head down, but risked a glance.
He was a young man, tall – she would fit her head under his arm, though she doubted that such gentle handling was likely between them. His face was narrow, but not unhandsome. His hair was blond and hung over his wide shoulders. He wore a russet robe, that came down his feet, which were bare. She expected that the robe was all he wore. .
He saw that glance and smiled. “You will be punished for that, girl.” Yvain dropped her eyes, blushing, furious at herself.
He said to the beldam, “Thank you. You may be required, for a while, so you will stay till I tell you to leave. Well, this girl. That was Karl I heard giving her her whipping, was it not?”
“Yes, Seigneur.”
The Seigneur smiled, not kindly. “He does like to lay it on hard. Turn, girl.”
Yvain turned her back to her Seigneur. She heard an amused, male, sound. “A perfect target,” he said. “And obviously he found it a tempting one. You have rewarded him?”
The beldam curtsied again. “I gave him Gisela, the Mayor’s wife, for tonight.”
“Ah, well chosen. The Mayor and his slut both deserve that. I’m sure she shall be vocal tonight, one way or another, till dawn. And be a little more humble for a month or two. Even when she can sit down again.”
The beldam said to Yvain, “Turn back and face your Seigneur, girl.”
Yvain, unable to acknowledge the order, and afraid of consequences, nodded twice, wide-eyed, and returned to face her Seigneur.
The Seigneur said to the beldam, “Report.”
“This is Yvain. She has just married a peasant, name of Marcello. A man of no importance, and it’s hard to see how he won this girl. Perhaps she is just foolish.” Yvain remembered the consequences, the last time she defended her husband. They still heated her bottom. She remained silent and still. “He must be foolish too. This girl is a virgin.”
The Seigneur put his hand under Yvain’s chin and lifted her face. “That’s a wonder. You kept it for me?” He smiled again, with a little more interest in her.
“How, er, complete is this virginity of yours? Has he had your no doubt delectably tight little asshole?”
Yvan, still with the strap in her mouth, shook her head.
“You peasants find it a fine way of avoiding babies. So has another man been in that little passage?”
Yvain, aware that her face was now as red as her bottom, shook her head harder. The hanging ends of the leather strap smacked lightly against the upper slopes of her breasts. “Well, girl. That’s an amusing and enticing fact. What about your mouth?”
Yvain could only look confused. She knew her cunt was the Seigneur’s first, then her husband’s. She had heard of the other hole being used by very depraved, unnatural men. But her mouth? She didn’t know what the Seigneur meant.
He sighed. “Your mouth, girl. I’m sure it will give me much pleasure before I let you go. But. Have. You. Sucked. A. Cock?” Yvain shook her head wildly, her eyes wide.
“Then you’ve restricted yourself to digital pleasures. You’ve had your husband’s cock in your hand, and stroked it till it spurted? Oh, in God’s name, beldam, take that leather out of her mouth.”
“Yes, Seigneur. Open, girl.” Yvain let the beldam remove the leather from her mouth, with some relief, though she knew the strap was back in play.
The beldam offered the strap to the Seigneur.
The Seigneur said, “No, it will be convenient if you hold that for a time. Anyway, girl, you may speak to answer questions, and when it is otherwise obedient. Have you had a man’s cock in your hands?”
“No, my Seigneur.”
“What an unenterprising peasant you’ve married. Well, has he at least pleased you? With his digits in your cunt, which I observe is very pretty.”
“No, my Seigneur. And thank you, Seigneur.”
“Well, has anyone?”
“Only me, my Seigneur.”
The Seigneur nodded. The beldam said, “With your permission, Seigneur. The girl has something to tell you.”
The Seigneur looked at Yvain, one eyebrow raised. “Yes?”
Yvain wished she could sink through the floor. “Punishment makes me wet, Seigneur.”
The Seigneur laughed. He put his hand under her chin, and when she lifted her face he kissed her mouth. Yvain, confused, knew that this too was far from unpleasant. He said, “It does? How very fortunate for you, girl.”