Yvain stared at the man she had married, before she was brought to the castle for the Seigneur to take her virginities. She supposed Matteo was no longer her husband, since they had never consummated their wedding, She realised that, with what Matteo had revealed about his preferences in lust and love, that they never would.
She wondered, briefly, what their married life would have been like. Two submissives, both with strong needs that the otgher could never satisfy, and a husband who did not desire her and who, out in the village, would have to conceal what class of people he did desire.
Matteo’s owner, master and lover Alfredo stepped behind her husband, who seemed to have been struck dumb at the sight of her. Alfedo flicked a thin leather strap across his buttocks, the kind of stroke that Yvain recognised: not a punishment yet, but a rteminder that it was time for the submissive to do as he or she had been told.
Matteo dropped to his knees instantly, and put his forehead and the palms of his hands to the floor, in front of her. He said, “My mistress, I have come to beg your forgiveness.”
Yvain caught the Seigneur’s eye, then, and knew what he expected from her. She said, “Matteo. You may rise, though I expect you to stay on your knees.”
Matteo knelt upright, facing her. His cock was slowly softening. He looked once, briefly and in appeal, at her eyes, then remembered his place and lowered his gaze.
The Seigneur said, “Yvain, you wanted to know if Matteo is happy with his new place. Alfredo and I will leave the two of you to talk, in private. Gizela!”
Gizela, who had been standing with her nose in the corner, hands on head, showing off her own well-disciplined buttocks and thighs, turned instantly and joined the Seigneur. “Master,” she said. He smacked her scarlet bottom affectionately and she rubbed against him and kissed his chest. He put his arm round her waist as he led Alfredo from the room.
Then Matteo and Yvain were alone. They stayed in position for some time, regarding each other, Yvain robed and seated, Matteo naked and kneeling.
Yvain said, “You see the woman you took for a wife, and your cock goes down. You would have condemned us both to a long, dreary and loveless life.”
“Mistress – ”
“You may call me Yvain, Matteo. For this conversation. And I want only the truth from you, even if you think it might hurt me. Or hurt you.”
“Yvain, I beg your forgiveness. But I was afraid. The villagers are not kind to people like me.”
Yvain nodded. Men had been whipped, or killed, for suspicion of loving other men. Most villagers feared the castle and its occupants, but there were those – herself, and for different reasons Matteo – who were safer and happier there than they would ever be outside.
“I understand that. But you used my innocence to keep yourself safe, at the expense of my chances of happiness.”
Yvain grinned suddenly. “Yes, I’m sure you were whipped well. And I’m sure your cock was harder than these stone walls while Alfredo educated you. I’ve had many similar lessons from my Seigneur and his staff, and I know what it’s like to be punished and at the same time experience a kind of bliss I never knew existed.”
Matteo nodded. His cock was rising again as he remembered his whipping. “Exactly! Alfredo took me afterwards. It was the first time I’d ever been fucked. It was … moving. I fell in love with him, as he buggered me. It was, perhaps, confusing.”
Yvain smiled. “I’ve had a remarkably similar experience, Matteo.” He smiled back at her. There was a moment’s complicity and mutual recognition. “Matteo, I still want you to tell me the truth, without thinking of my feelings at all. Can you do that?”
“I’d hate to hurt you more, Yvain. And I am sorry. But I promise I will only tell you the truth from now on.”
“Then, Matteo: your new life. Are you happy in it?”
“Yvain, I am deeply submissive, as I now know you are too. Neither of us would have found that out, not from each other. But now my need to submit, and give myself, is open, and it is fully met. We have a lor in common, it turns out. Like you, I only really like men.”
Yvain thought for a moment of Gizela, and her desire to squeeze her thighs around that girl’s head as she busily served her mistress. But she didn’t argue the point. It was the Seigneur who mattered to her. She stood. “I’m glad you were whipped for deceiving me, Matteo. You deserved it. But now I know how little choice presented itself to you, I forgive you. And I’m glad you’re happy, Matteo. I feel no ill will towards you. I was, after all, ready to marry you.”
Matteo nodded. “I was very fond of you too. I still am. I’m glad you’re happy, far beyond the best I could have brought you.”
Yvain dropped her robe, and turned her back. She was amused to hear Matteo gasp, not at her beauty but at the impressive colours and lines left by Karl and the Beldam’s strap, and the Seigneur’s hand and cane.
He said, “Yvain, I see you are being .. well cared for. Like me.”
“Now, keep that cock up and hard, for your Master’s return.”
“And go and face the wall, feet apart, hands outstrtetched. Hands and toes touching the wall, but your bottom angled out a bit.”
Matteo nodded. He knew this position, and what it was for. He faced the wall, adjusting his posrure as instructed. When he was ready he said, “As you commanded, Mistress.”
“Good. Stay there.” Yvain came to stand beside him, placing herself in exactly the same posture. She turned to look at Matteo, who had his nose to the cold stone. “Submissives, even slaves like me, and you, have certain powers. I do not think our masters will be able to resist this sight, when they return. Not for a second. Now we wait.”