Wicked Wednesday: Droit de Seigneur 5

The Seigneur still held her chin when he broke off the kiss. Yvain missed that contact. Her body and mind were responding to him and his treatment of her in powerful and unexpected ways. She found herself wondering what being taken by him, having his cock in her body, would be like. Apart from the sensations she’d given herself with her fingers she had little to go on. It would be lovely. But he was so cruel. She looked up into his eyes, confused. 

The Seigneur smiled. “Is a serf entitled to look at the Seigneur without permission?”

Yvain shuddered. “No, my Seigneur. I beg your forgiveness.” 

“You may possibly have that, after you’ve earned it. Put your feet wide apart, and bend at the waist, girl. Beldam, when I say, you may commence her punishment.”

“Yes, my Seigneur.” Yvain didn’t dare look back, but she was sure the beldam was smiling at her Seigneur, pleased with the situation. She heard the beldam step to her right side, slightly behind her.

The Seigneur said, “Girl, I take it you are unfamiliar with cocks. But I’m sure you know how to undo buttons.”

“Yes, Seigneur. I am.” She had unbuttoned and buttoned her sister’s baby’s vest often enough.

“Then undo my buttons, starting at my waist and working down. You will be freeing and stroking my cock. Understood?”

Yvain blushed again. “Yes, my Seigneur.”

“Good. You handle my cock gently, as if it is a dove in your hands. Gentle. If you are not sufficiently gentle, you will go outside, naked as you are, and pluck and strip me a switch, and bring it back to me to flog you wth. Now hold your position, legs apart, bent at the waist. Now, begin, girl.”

Yvain reached and undid the top button of his dark-blue silken breaches. Then the next. At the third button she was aware of his cock, hard, straining against the material. She undid the last two buttons, and released a cylinder of flesh, thick and hard, though the skin itself was deliciously soft. She clasped it between her hands, savouring its pulse and its warmth.

The Seigneur shivered, which she supposed was a good sign. She wondered what she should do to make him feel she was pleasing him.

“Now, little slut, stroke it. with a slow rhythm, your hands moving back and forth. Slowly at first. I’ll tell you when you speed up.” 

Yvan obeyed, and was puzzled to find the cylinder somehow harder and a little larger in her hands. The Seigneur nodded at the beldam. “When I say ‘begin’, beldam. Yvain, you are about to be punished for looking at my face without permission. Sometimes when I have you punished, I will want to hear you count the strokes, thank me, and tell me the lesson you are being taught.”

The cock in her hand seemed to move, upwards, as he spoke those words. He continued, “This time I want only silence from you. The punishment of a serf girl is of no importance. The pleasure of a Seigneur is of total importance. Keep your hands and your eyes on my cock, throughout. Beldam, begin.” 

“Yes, Seigneur.”

Yvain waited for one second of silence while the beldam no doubt raised the strap above her shoulder and took her aim. Then the leather smacked her, filling the room with that sharp impact. The warmth of her bottom sharpened instantly to pain and heat. Yvain suppressed her gasp, and kept her hands on the Seigneur’s cock, making sure she held him no tighter, nor sped up the stroking.

The second and third strokes lashed the tops of her plump thighs, and Yvain knew the beldam was trying to make her squeal again. She bit her lip, determined to remain silent, held her humiliatingly submissive position, offering herself to the strap and serving her Seigneur’s cock.

The next two strokes cracked across her bottom, which was now in exquisite pain. Still the beldam whipped her, remorselessly. At the twelfth stroke the Seigneur said, “Beldam, is this serf slut wet?” 

“Oh yes, Seigneur. Glistening. She spoke the truth about punishment.” 

“Good. Yvain, I want you to put the fingers of your right hand into that dripping little slit.” 


“And get those fingers as wet as you can. Then you anoint my cock with your juices. Begin, girl.” 

Yvain withdrew one hand from his cock. She had the urge to kiss it, which was odd. Then she pushed her fingers into her cunt. The sensation was overwhelming. She moaned, knowing that the sound would only meant more of the strap.

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