Yvain lay in her stomach, her body pink and warm from the bath, while Gizela lightly towelled and talced her. She sighed. “Gizela, you like being a slave, don’t you?”
“Of course, mistress. It suits me very well. It lets me do, and feel, what my heart and my cunt want. Do you, mistress?”
“Oh!” Yvain was surprised. “Yes, I suppose I am his slavegirl, too.”
“I don’t think the Seigneur would apply the word to you, but you know you’re his slave, among the other things you are to him.”
“Yes, I know. It’s odd that you get the title, and I don’t.”
“I’m sorry, mistress.” Gizela sprinkled talcum powder on Yvain’s lower buttocks, and began to spread it, slowly, sensuously.
Yvain sighed; Gizela knew exactly what felt good. “No, Gizela, that wasn’t a complaint. I just don’t understand how these things work: titles. I suppose you are my slave as well, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am, mistress! Though we’ve never actually said it, have we? Your Seigneur, my Master, takes precedence, but I’m also your property. You can do what you will with me. Tell me to do anything, and I will.” The talcum powder fell like snow on her inner thighs, and Gizela began to massage her more intimately.
“Do you like being my slave, Gizela?”
“Ah. You’re a very sweet and good woman, so I enjoy being with you. And you make my cunt sing. Especially when you spank me and make me lick you.”
Yvain suddenly felt a sharp pain, near her no-long virginal anus. She yelped. Gizela had pulled a hair out.
“Sorry, mistress, but that hair; it was in a wrong place. I’m sure Master would prefer that it was gone.”
“You didn’t ask my permission, Gizela. Or give me warning.” The unexpected pain had shocked and angered her, a little. “I will punish you. And Gizela, I’ll use my hand, but you deserve the cane for that.”
“Of course I do, mistress. I would love you to cane me. But the master will never let you. He’d see it as making you step too far outside your submissive nature.” Gizela bent down and kiss the back of Yvain’s left thigh, then touched the skin with her tongue. “If I might make a suggestion… ?”
“When he’s fucked you, and fucked you again, tonight, and he’s lying soft and tired, ask him for permission to use the hairbrush or the slipper to punish me when I deserve it.”
“Those are implements for the nursery. Not serious punishment, Gizela.”
“Mistress, you will learn one day why we slaves fear the hairbrush. It doesn’t seem like much, when you have one in your hand, but when it lands on your bottom, darling mistress, you will squeal. And if the Seigneur is angry with you, you will blister.”
“Oh.” Yvain’s eyes were wide.
“And Mistress, to be honest with you, there are times when I’m about to be punished but I’m feeling delicate, when I’d rather get the cane than the slipper. The slipper hurts. If you want access to something that will genuinely make me sad and sorry, and desperate to avoid a second dose, those are the implements to use.”
“Oh. I suppose I have them in my future, soon enough. So I’ll learn if what you say is true.”
“It’s true, my darling mistress. Believe me.” Gizela had finished with her inner thighs, having carefully avoided touching her cunt. “Could you … turn over, please, my mistress? Master will want your cunt bare before he takes you.”
Yvain turned onto her side, to face her slave. “You’re going to trim me?”
“No, mistress. I’m to shave you. So there’s nothing between his cock and you.”
Yvan felt those words. The thought was like a sexual punch, a hard knot of lust at the lowest part of her belly. She rolled further, so she was on her back.
Gizela disappeared into the bathroom for a moment. She returned with a soapy dish and a fearsome-looking razor. Gizela saw the mild fear in Yvain’s eyes, and said, “It’s all right, my mistress. I’ve done this many times before. I can guarantee I won’t hurt you.”
Yvain smiled at that, and spread her thighs so Gizela could do her work. “If you slip, girl, I will ask the Master to cane you severely. And then for his permission to slipper you on top of your stripes. So have a care.”
“I’m not feeling delicate at the moment, so that sounds quite enticing.” Yvain closed her thighs. “But, mistress, I wouldn’t hurt you, let alone cut you, for ll the world.”
Yvain, feeling she was being brave, opened her thighs again. “Then do your worst.”
Blisters? Ouch. I have never experienced that, and somehow am glad I didn’t 😉
~ Marie xox
I’ve never blistered anyone’s bottom, either, and I’d feel bad, incompetent, etc, if I did.
But submissive women have told me stories about getting blisters from the paddle and also the hairbrush. So it does happen.
I love leaving red, the deeper the hotter, but blisters just don’t seem sexy, to me.
But other people can have different views, and that’s OK. Even within this story, Gizela is a complete painslut and she’d probably be quite pleased and proud of blisters. Not Yvain, though.
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And how, I wonder, does the author manage to describe such intimate processes in such detail, which, according to him, he himself has never done?
Well, the only thing I said I’d never done was spank a woman so hard she blistered. And in the story there’s just a quick reference to the possibility, not a long desription.
I mostly write based on my own experience, but sometimes I use what other people have told me, plus imagination.
For example, as a tediously het man I’ve never had a cock in my mouth, but I’ve described Yvain sucking the Seigneur’s cock to orgasm and swallowing, from her POV.
My experience of that is only from the Seigneur’s side, but I know enough about how it feels, especially to a submissive woman, that I think I can describe her thoughts and sensations in a way that’s (a) fun for the reader and (b) plausible.
All writers make things up, and describe experiences they themselves have never had. We use observation, listening and sympathetic imagination.
Thanks for your reply!
I admire the flight of your imagination and the ability to put it into words!
Most of all I’m afraid of the moment when you write that this is the end of the story 🙁
The girls are preparing for a new meeting with their master and along the way, communicating, they determine their boundaries.