Yvain, commanded to watch Gizela’s spanking carefully, sat up, still holding Gizela’s ankles, looking up between her opened legs as she lay across her Seigneur’s lap. The Seigneur smiled at Yvain, then let one finger slide into the deep crease between the woman’s buttocks and thighs and slide along her pretty, pouting lips. Gizela whimpered and her body shook. The Seigneur put his hand on her bottom, to hold her still.

He said, “Yvain, Gizela is going to show you how to please me while I fuck your beautiful bottom. But first she needs this so she can settle down and be the good girl she secretly wants to be. In that you’re a lot alike.”

Yvain thought she’d never be as brave or as teasing as Gizela. She endured punishment and found she enjoyed it.

But she’d never invited it, and she suspected she never would. It wasn’t her place. “We are alike, my Seigneur. But her bottom is more beautiful than mine.” 

He stared at her, disconcerted. “I hope you’re only saying that. You are more beautiful than Gizela. What she is, is cute. Immensely cute. Men like that, and so do I, but it’s a lower coin than beauty.” 

Gizela heard that and wiggled her bottom, partly in protest and partly in invitation, Yvain guessed. The Seigneur smacked her for the first time, and then, while that slap still rang in their ears, smacked her again, on her other side. He slipped his hand down to console Gizela’s cunt again. “You know, little Gizela, exactly why men watch you and want you. You are very pretty, and you are too cute to resist, and you exude sex like a rose exudes scent.” Gizela made a happy noise, as least as much from what the Seigneur was doing with his hand as from his words. 

“Actualy,” the Seigneur continued, “I shall take this girl off Karl. He will be allowed to choose his next project for himself, and I’m sure he’ll be happy. But Gizela I give to you. She shall live with us, dress you, do your hair, obey you in any order you give her, and teach you the things that are expected of you in a court. Gizela, what do you say?”

There was a short pause, and the Seigneur gave her two harder smacks. Her bottom was taking on a redder tinge, though the lines left by Karl’s most recent application of the strap and the cane still stood out. Gizela took those smacks without distress, and said, “Then I am yours, Mistress Yvain.”

Yvain said, “You will teach me. I believe we will do well together. And my Seigneur will keep you disciplined.”

The Seigneur smiled at Yvain, then watched Gizela’s flesh spread and rebound under the impact of his hand, as he gave her a further twelve hard spanks. He said, while Gizela grumbled happily, “Yvain, you will spank your servant with your hand, if she does not behave. Then you send her to me so I can check you’ve done a proper job. If you have not ” – he glanced at the cane, lying almost forgotten on his bed – “you’ll both regret it.”

Yvain frowned. “She is a teasing girl, all of us know. What if she needs harder discipline than my hand? Do I cane her?”

“No. You will never be allowed to touch an implement. You spank only with your hand. When she crosses the line you can deal with, you send her to me.”

Yvain nodded. “Yes, my Seigneur.” She was relieved. She could not imagine herself as someone who gave out discipline, especially not harsh punishment. But giving a spanking for a girl who would thoroughly enjoy herself throughout: that she thought she could manage.

“Good,” the Seigneur said. “We’ll break the news to Karl and the Mayor, later. Karl will pick the next girl the Mayor will marry, and that girl will again be shared by two men. All three will be happy. Gizela, these are your new rooms.”

“Yes, my Seigneur. May I still call you Master?”

“Of course. Gizela, sometimes you will sleep with us, but I will have the Beldam bring a cot for you to sleep in at the foot of our bed, when you are not required. Now, Yvain, hold your servant’s ankles tight, because she is wont to kick when a spanking gets severe, and she’s not allowed to do that. You know the consequence for both of you if you fail to control that.”

This time it was Yvain who glanced at that slim, innocent-looking cane. “Yes, my Seigneur.”

The Seigneur smiled at her. “Then for your own sake, and hers, keep your servant under control now. Gizela will teach you about your next fuck, soon, but for now, she has a lesson to learn.”

Yvain wondered what that lesson could be: misbehave and you will be given pleasure? So it seemed.

But the Seigneur set about spanking the squirming girl on his lap, and Yvain realised that she had never been punished as severely as her Seigneur could achieve with his hand alone. Gizela’s bottom and upper thighs took on a deep purple-red colour as the Seigneur’s hand cracked down again and again, and Gizela’s cries of pain evolved from play-acting to real.    

Yvain, watching, fascinated, felt no pity for Gizela, but it was not because she disliked the woman. She liked her a lot, she’d realised. But Yvain realised that at this moment she envied her. The spanking finally stopped, though Gizela’s wailing cries continued for nearly a minute afterwards.

At last she turned a tearful face to look at the Seigneur. “Thank you, master.”

“I think you’ll be a good girl now, Gizela, at least until that warmth wears off your arse. So while you’re still behaving, instruct my consort on how she is to take my cock.”

“Yes, master.” Gizela scooted backwards onto her knees, then turned awkwardly to sit on the bed, wincing, before she stood up. She kissed Yvain’s hand. “My mistress, I hope you can spank me at least half as hard when I need it.” Yvain didn’t reply. She had no idea if she could do that. Gizela smiled at her, as if she’d read her thoughts, and said, “I’m sure you’ll do well. Now, my mistress, I have to teach you about lubrication.” 

She stood up, and walked, rather stiffly, to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room.