Yvain knocked again on the Beldam’s door. At last, and suddenly, the door opened. The Beldam stared at her, letting her know she had interrupted something and that she was not going to know what it is. 

“Oh. It’s you. The Seigneur wants me in attendance with an instrument, to ensure you are obedient, and you learn quickly. What does he want me to bring?”

Yvain swallowed. This was hard and humiliating, and of course her Seigneur had made it so deliberately. She said, “The cane, Beldam. But he asks that first you give me twelve of the best for insolence.”

The Beldam smiled, not in a way that reassured Yvain. “Insolent, were you? Well. That was a very foolish thing to be. Still, I have the remedy. Come in, child.”

Yvain entered the beldam’s room. Like Karl’s, it had a rack with many instruments handing, canes, crops, paddles and straps, as well as things clearly intended to enter her while she was punished. There was a narrow bench, on one support bolted to the floor.

The Beldam looked at Yvain, with no sympathy but some impatience. “Well, girl, go to that bench there, and bend over. I’m not going to fix you down. This is a test of you obedience too, you know that.” 

Yvain hurried to the bench over which she was to be caned. She said, still standing, “The Seigneur said that I must be silent, no matter how hard you cane me, or how much you hurt me.” 

“Did he say what was to happen if you whine or sniffle, little slut?”

“No, Beldam. He did not.”

The Beldam smiled again. “You will of course get the stroke over, and a penalty stroke at the end of the twelve. That is as merciful as I dare to be. But I will report your failure to the Seigneur, and I’m sure he will know what to do.”

Yvain nodded. It took a great deal of effort, of self-discipline, to say, “Yes, Beldam. Thank you, Beldam.”

Then she bent over, her feet well apart, her hair hanging down, touching the Beldam’s carpet. She could only see the rug below her. It showed a hunting scene, dogs tearing at a deer. She could hear the Beldam rattling the implements, then her satisfied grunt. She dared not look, but she heard the sound – one she had already learned to recognise – of a cane whistling through the air, twice, and the Beldam’s satisfied grunt.

Suddenly she saw a long carved thing, leather tight on wood, that reminded her of the Seigneur’s cock. The Beldam held it to her mouth, and Yvain reflexively opened. The Beldam chuckled, and put her hand under Yvain’s jaw, closing her mouth.

“When I beat you in the future, you will have this in your arsehole or your little cunt, Yvain. To remind you of your Master. But this time I think I shouldn’t. The Seigneur would think it right that his cock is the first to enter those places. Well.” 

The Beldam took a step back. Yvain somehow felt rather than saw the cane rise in the air, above the Beldam’s shoulder. She closed her eyes, to focus on string quiet. 

The first stroke cut like a firebrand across the lower slopes of her bottom. She fought to keep still and stay silent. The Beldam muttered, “Good.” 

At the tenth stroke her bottom and upper thighs seemed to be on fire. Still Yvain fought to be still and silent. The Beldam was out of breath when she again said, “Good girl.” She seemed surprised. 

But the twelfth stroke was the hardest of the series, and finally Yvain let a small protesting sound of pain emerge, though suppressed, through her nose.

The Beldam sounded triumphant, though she said, “It’s a pity you didn’t make it.” Yvain endured the re-application of that twelfth stroke, and the penalty, in silence. She thought her body felt boneless, buttocks and thighs blazing, and her legs and torso utterly relaxed over that narrow bench. She hung on the bench like a wet shirt on a branch.

The Beldam smacked her left thigh. “Up, slut.” Yvain struggled to re-enter normal time and move herself. When she was back on her feet the beldam said, “You know I’ll report your failure to stay silent.”

“Yes, Beldam. It’s your duty.” Yvain surprised herself in acknowledging that. The Beldam might enjoy her cruelty, but she, like Yvain, had no choices. 

“You’re learning. And you know you thought what just happened to you was your lover’s cares. He wanted you hurt, and you want to be hurt for him. I’ll say no more. You have to know these things with your body, not your mind, Yvain.” 

Yvain was surprised. It wasn’t just that the Beldam was right, it was that she thought she was looking after Yvain. Yvain knew that the Beldam was right in that. She was. Together the two woman returned to the Seigneur’s room. 

The Seigneur was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. He wore nothing. His cock poled upwards, and turned in Yvain’s direction when she stepped inside.