Yvain watched Gisela’s face closely, her lips pressed against her Seigneur’s groin, holding all of his cock in her mouth. Her cheeks dimpled as she sucked, At last, after a minute with the Seigneur’s cock deep in her throat she moved back a little, exposing a couple of centimetres of the Seigneur’s pale shaft to Yvain’s fascinated gaze, and took a breath.
The breath was a single gasp and then she moved forward to take the penis entirely into her mouth. She reached up to hold the backs of his thighs, just under his buttocks, and began to move her bead backwards and forwards, mimicking the motions of fucking. The Seigneur stood perfectly still, and he looked down not at Gisela, whose eyes were fixed on his, but at Yvain. Yvain was aware of his gaze, but kept her eyes, obediently, on Gisela, and the shaft of his cock as it appeared and disappeared. Gisela gurgled as his cock moved in her. It did not seem an unhappy sound.
The Seigneur held the back of Gisela’s head, forcing her face hard against him. He said to Yvain, “You’re impressed that she can take so much, aren’t you?”
Yvain was flustered. “Ah, yes. Yes, I am, my Seigneur. Though I do not know how I could – “
“The trick is to relax and learn not to gag, when the cock goes deep. Your own physical reactions are unimportant.”
Yvain nodded. It would be hard to learn, but she wanted to. The Seigneur said, “You will be taught to control your reactions.” He looked down at Gisela, meeting her gaze. “You were once no good at this at all, you remember?”
Gisela, her mouth still full, nodded almost imperceptibly. She mouthed, “”‘Ess, Seigneur.”
“How did you learn?”
Gisela had to open her mouth very wide to speak. “Karl stwapped me. When I gagged.”
The Seigneur smiled and did not answer her. His hand held her head tight and for the first time he began to move, fucked the kneeling woman’s mouth and throat. Yvain loved the visible movement of his cock inside Gisela’s mouth, bulging sometimes at her cheek. She was sure she could do most of what Gisela did, the steady, fervent suction, the keeping her teeth clear of the cock, and her tongue busy.
Still, she doubted if she could take it so deep and hold it without choking, as Gisela had learned. She was also sure that her Seigneur would have no hesitation in training her, with some implement to make her gasp and cry, and obey. She supposed that there would always be a point when a sore bottom, and the desire to avoid extra strokes, outweighed all other considerations. She knew she would learn to do what was required.
At last the Seigneur grunted, and then froze, his body locked, suddenly immobile. He said, “No, not this time, girl,” to Gisela, and pushed her back. His hard cock shone in the air, gleaming with Gisela’s fluids but not his. Yvain stared: it was the first time she’d seen it clear and in readiness. It seemed bigger than the spaces in her body she expected he would put it. At the same time, she was not afraid: it would hurt her, she was sure, but not in an unpleasant way.
Gisela had sat back, still on her knees, her hands now dropped to the floor, still holding eye contact. “As my Seigneur pleases.”
The Seigneur said, “Good girl, Gisela. Though it’s Karl you’ll need to please now. Go.” Gisela dropped to her hands and knees, and crossed to room to where Karl was sitting on the bed. She crouched at his feet.
The Seigneur snapped his fingers. “Yvain.”
She straightened up and came close. Her Seigneur was looking at a rack of implements on Karl’s wall. At last he selected a cane.
He turned and pressed it to her lips. “I don’t think I’ll need to hear from you for a while, girl. Open.”
Yvain decided not to say, “Yes Seigneur”, and simply obeyed. The rattan length seemed very hard in her mouth. Her Seigneur smacked her bottom, and she felt it as affection, fondness, perhaps more.
She smiled at him, the cane pressing against the corners of her mouth.
The Seigneur turned his attention to Karl, who was now receiving service from Gisela’s mouth, her hair flowing down her back, her hands at his waist.
“Karl, let the Mayor know he’s not getting his wife back till tomorrow. And send her to me at eight tonight.”
“Yes, Seigneur.” Karl’s voice was guttural. He had Gisela’s hair clutched in his hand, and he pulled that clump back so she had to hurt herself to move forward on him. Her gurgles suggested that she liked that very much.
The Seigneur smacked Yvain again. He was smiling, and she smiled back. “Another time I might walk you on a leash, hands and knees, back to my rooms. But that’s very slow, fun though it can be. For some reason I seem to be in a hurry, at the moment. You walk in front of me. Go!”
Yvain, greatly daring, wiggled as she opened the door out to the corridor.