Gizela, naked, her master’s handprints glowing on her bottom, and the imprint of her mistress’s palm a faint pink on her face, returned from the cupboard carrying the hairbrush in her open hands, palms up. In this place that was the way a hairbrush was carried by a woman or man who knew it was to be used, in a few moments, on their own buttocks and thighs.
She held her hands just under her breasts, drawing attention to their firm weight, and knowing that she looked perfectly desirable. She made some effort to look sad and repentant, but she was not convincing anyone in that room that she was that, certainly not herself. She said, “The hairbrush, my Mistress. I’m sorry I displeased you. Please don’t stop until you feel I’ve learned my lesson.”
Was that mockery? Yvain wondered. She decided it wasn’t, exactly. Gizela was merely begging for her spanking to be laid on long and hard. Yvain held out her arm imperiously, and Gizela put the brush into her hand. It was wooden, finely polished, and the back, which Yvain was sure was used more often than the bristly side, was hard. The brush would cover about half of one of Gizela’s buttocks.
Yvain knew she could make the entire surface of Gizela’s deep-clefted bottom a brighter red with just four spanks. Would that be a good start? Yes, she decided, it would.
If the Seigneur held the hairbrush in his hand and looked at her, Yvain was certain she’d try to show him she was sorry,
She’d want reduce the severity of her punishment. That would never occur to Gizela.
She said, “Gizela, girl, you will not again … ” She glanced at the Seigneur. She didn’t want to tell him that Gizela had pulled out a hair from beside her anus. She was his, but somehow that seemed a little too personal.”You will not touch me disrespectfully again.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress. And I swear I will not. Please pun -“
“Silence!” Yvain pointed at the chair against the room’s stone wall. “Bring that chair to about, oh, two feet from the bed. Place it sideways, so that you, over my lap, will have your face to the bed.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Gizela obeyed.
Yvain turned to her Seigneur. “With your permission, my Seigneur, I would like you to enjoy Gizela’s punishment as much as I will enjoy teaching her better manners.”
The Seigneur was still smiling, and now the smile reached his eyes. “And how will you achieve that, my little piglet?”
“If you sit on the edge of the bed, with your knees well apart, I think Gizela can be persuaded to give you pleasure, even as I give her pain.”
The Seigneur leaned over and kissed her. He murmurred, “Clever little piglet,” and placed himself as she suggested, his cock high.
Yvain rose then, hair brush in her hand, and took her place on the chair. She glanced up at Gizela. “Over my knee, slut.”
Gizela scrambled to obey. Yvain enjoyed the weight of the woman’s soft body on hers, and the view of her slender back, her red and chubby bottom and her soft and sweet thighs. She sighed with pleasure, and then delivered four hard spanks, with all her strength, covering the entire surface of Gizela’s bottom.
By the third stroke Gizela had cried out, surprised to feel real pain. Yvain said, “Good. Now we know where we are, you and I, Gizela.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Gizela sounded breathless. “I certainly do.”
“I see Master’s beautiful cock, Mistress.”
“Where is your mouth to be while I beat you, little slut?”
“Oh.” Gizela raised her body a little, and pressed her head between the Seigneur’s thighs.
He took a handful of her hair then, and placed her mouth onto his cock. He breathed once in pleasure, then held Gizela’s head firmly in place. He looked at Yvain, and nodded.
Yvain raised the brush.