by R. R. Vane
And then he put his mouth on her, just like that. She started to protest, but she just couldn’t find her voice to do so. What he was doing was certainly sinful, but Alicia readily reconciled herself with the sin of it. All creatures were sinful, and God’s mercy was boundless. She surely felt He’d find forgiveness for this sin, just as He did for other sins.
She nearly swooned as her husband stuck his tongue inside her cleft. His tongue was just as clever as his fingers. And it just didn’t content itself to tend to her now gushing opening. It teased her in that place of secret delight, until she peaked right against his mouth, blushing crimson at the thought of this wantonness the fiend was responsible of conjuring inside her.
When she came back to herself, she found him propped on an elbow, perusing her with a look of satisfaction upon his face.
“I’ve tended to you, wife, like a dutiful husband. Now it is your duty to tend to me,” he said, lying on his back and tucking his arms under his head.
She widened her eyes, as she perceived his long cock, still proud and stiff. He couldn’t mean she should put her mouth on him, could he?
Bertran looked upon his wife through hooded eyes, thinking he might have been too forward. They were but newly wed and only last night he’d breached her maidenhead. But she was so bold and fiery, he kept forgetting how innocent she was. In truth, he’d never presumed to ask of his first wife this thing he was asking now. And, in truth, his first wife had not ever let him put his mouth against her own sex, even if he’d tried to coax her to do it. It was too sinful, she’d proclaimed, and he had known not to press for more, resigning himself to more restrained couplings. But this new wife was vastly different from his first, wasn’t she?
He saw her weighing what he’d just uttered and he opened his mouth to set her at ease. He would not require it of her, if she did not feel like taking him in her mouth. She’d already given him great enjoyment, and there were many other, pleasurable things they could learn to enjoy together. But all thought was robbed from him as he felt her hand, at first hesitant, cup the length of him.
“Just tell me something, husband…” she said softly, as she began to stroke him tentatively.
He nodded, taking full pleasure in her soft touch, noting her hand was already beginning to get bolder.
“How come your cock is stiff anew?” she asked.
He glanced at her in some puzzlement.
“Why shouldn’t it be stiff again?”
“But didn’t you spend your seed earlier?” she queried, and her voice was earnest as she did so.
He chuckled, telling himself he kept forgetting she was new to coupling.
“Sometimes it’s thus,” he told her patiently. “Sometimes male desire is rekindled, even after lusty coupling. And the male craves coupling again.”
Truly, her hand was getting bolder, and he bit into his lower lip, to prevent himself from spilling his seed too early and embarrassing himself. She weaved a powerful spell on him, this new wife of his.
“Oh, I see now… I just thought it must be something I did wrong,” she told him, and her voice sounded filled with relief.
“No,” he told her rather breathlessly. “It’s something you did right. Right indeed.”
Soon he was unable to speak, as she began to stroke him rhythmically, her earlier hesitation vanished as if through magic. He opened his mouth to tell her to stop, perceiving he was aroused beyond belief, but he did not have the chance. It was then that she lowered her sweet mouth and brushed a shy kiss on the tip of his shaft. His shaft pulsed dangerously, and a single drop of white liquid spurted from it. Bertran painfully gritted his teeth to prevent the rest from just spilling over. It was sweet torture, as her full lips began to suck the tip of him, then got bolder and hungrier. She was a fast learner, this new wife of his, Bertran thought, nearly maddened with rapture. He let her tend to him for a while, but stopped her just in time. He would not spill himself inside her mouth. It was too soon for such intimacy, and she might not enjoy it.
He disentangled himself from her, flipping her on her back unceremoniously and making short work of easing himself between her legs. He plunged himself into her slick wetness, to the hilt, loving the hot tightness of her. She would later feel sore perhaps, because she was still tight for a man of his size, but he possessed her with a powerful, breathless urgency, until they both came to shout their joy at the very same time. He then lay on his back, truly spent, realising that never in his life had he possessed a woman so fiercely. He looked upon her in some concern, now worried he’d been too forceful in his loving of her. However, he soon glimpsed a smile of contentment on her face.
“Good night then, husband,” she muttered, snuggling against him, after she’d pulled the bedcover over both of them.
Never in his life had he been so ensorcelled by a woman, he thought with a frown. Was she as bewitched with him as he was with her? Or would she ignite as easily for any other man? Would she ignite more easily for a man she didn’t despise? Again, he fell asleep with a mixed feeling of joy and discontent.
Chapter 6
Her husband made a hurried departure on the morrow, to attend to the duties he’d been assigned at Court, leaving Alicia to accustom herself to her new dwelling. Queen Eleanor would be patient, he assured her, and would not require her presence until next week among her attendants. He’d told Alicia he would be tardy this night due to pressing matters and would thus also take his evening meal in the Royal Hall. He’d brushed a brief, hurried kiss upon her lips after he’d said so, looking upon her with hazel eyes which to Alicia had seemed filled with longing. But he’d hurried to his own chores, which left her the space to see to hers.
Entirely left to her own devices, Alicia didn’t tarry to set to work, knowing that much needed to be done to set the place to rights. After she’d instructed the servants for the day, she proceeded to make a thorough inventory of the state of the house, noting those items in need of repair or replacement. Inspecting the furnishings, she concluded that a carpenter should be soon employed, together with a blacksmith, whose presence was necessary to see to the replacing of rusty hinges and locks. In truth, Alicia was looking forward to the busy months ahead of her, since they were going to be filled mainly with housewifery. It was a welcome break from the many tedious responsibilities she’d shouldered as mistress of her father’s household, and as overseer of their vast properties. This time in London would provide a welcome respite from her many duties, and she’d be better rested when the time came she rejoined one of her country estates.
She knew by heart the properties that were part of her dowry, which now belonged to her husband, as well as the lands and manors she’d inherited from her mother, which were still hers by right, since they’d never been part of the dowry due to her husband. One of these days, she should talk on all of this with Sir Bertran, and inquire after his own properties, which, she already knew, were not as vast as hers.
She only stopped her work at noon, for a hurried repast, and was ready to get back to her chores, when news reached her that a visitor had come upon her. Lady Marguerite de Morne, her husband’s lady mother. Alicia received her guest in full embarrassment, keenly aware of the sorry state of her new home. Besides, she couldn’t help but recall it had been Lady Marguerite who’d clamoured for her punishment most fiercely. Her husband’s mother must still resent her greatly.
Lady Marguerite heaved a deep sigh, as she looked around the house where the servants were busying themselves scrubbing and polishing, at Lady Alicia’s behest.
“I’ve often asked my son to let me set this place to rights, but he’d always postponed it, knowing I had several other duties to attend to.”
Lady Alicia nodded, aware that Lady Marguerite had not only the care of her own household and estates upon her shoulders, but also two other grown, unmarried sons and two growing daughters to see to.
“But now that he’s wed, I suppose this burden falls upon your shoulders,” the lady went on, cas
ting Alicia an appraising look.
When she’d glanced upon Alicia in the Hall, there had been disdain in Marguerite’s gaze, but now Alicia saw with relief that the lady was looking upon her with benevolence. Alicia felt shamed by it, recalling the insults to her son, which had been written in the letter. It was not she who’d insulted the lady and her family, but she felt fully responsible for the insult her father had bestowed.
She bowed her head.
“I pray forgiveness for the grievous insult you received, my lady Marguerite,” she said formally.
Lady Marguerite touched her shoulder.
“You have already paid for it, so I should say all is forgiven and forgotten,” she said with a smile.
She then added, looking at Alicia intently. “I was the one who insisted upon the match. Not mainly for your dowry, as you think, but because I knew of you, and because I still thought you’d make my son a worthy wife, in spite of your arrogant rejection of him. You were wrong to reject him. He will be a good husband to you, far better than that Erec de Jarnac.”
Alicia said nothing, but mused there was some truth in what Lady Marguerite was saying. It was plain, in the bedchamber, Sir Bertran was a mightily pleasing match for her. Still, a marriage did not unfold only in the bedchamber.
“Perhaps there’s something I should tell you,” Lady Marguerite said. “It was not my son who insisted upon your public chastisement. In fact, he was loath to deliver it. We and our royal liege prevailed upon him, knowing honour had to be served, and the punishment we clamoured for was mild, compared to the insult we’d received.”
Lady Marguerite was soon gone, since she and her family would leave on this very day to rejoin their demesne, but not before instructing Lady Alicia where she could engage the services of a good carpenter and of a reputed master blacksmith.
Soon, Lady Alicia decided to go on these errands herself, instead of sending her people, since she suddenly felt the need of an outing. Lady Marguerite’s words had caused turmoil inside her. So, her new husband had been against her public humiliation, which meant he was not as harsh as she’d believed him to be. Perhaps he had been speaking the truth to her, and he was indeed mild-tempered. Hadn’t he proved himself so ever since they’d spoken their vows?
She went about her errands, pausing to enjoy the busyness of the crowded town of London and beginning to feel her spirits lift. She was able to employ the services of Master Levens, the carpenter, who would come to inspect their place on the morrow. She then proceeded to search for Master Reed, reputed to be the best smith in town, who lodged further away.
When she finally knocked on the smith’s door, she was met by an apprentice boy, who told her that Master Reed was at his forge, at the back of the house, engaged in a portentous endeavour. The boy smirked as he directed her to where his master was, and Alicia and the serving man accompanying her looked at each other in some puzzlement. But as soon as she set eyes on where Master Reed was, she had cause to widen her eyes.
With astounded eyes, Alicia instantly understood why the boy had smirked knowingly in their direction when he’d spoken of his master’s doings. At present, Master Reed was in the yard of his forge, holding a sobbing woman across his lap, while he was brandishing a willow switch, not quite unlike the one Sir Bertran had spared Alicia from, the day of her punishment. The woman’s skirts were hoisted, and her bare bottom and thighs were already striped with red. By the zest with which the master smith was still brandishing the switch, more red stripes were bound to appear on his wife’s upturned rump. The stripes now looked angry red against the skin of the woman’s well-rounded bottom. Master Reed was handling the instrument of his punishment with full vigour, and Alicia guessed this harsh chastisement was nowhere near done. She felt a stab of deep sympathy for the sobbing woman, as well as some measure of strange excitement in witnessing this event. She glanced sideways at the serving man who’d accompanied her and saw a look of avid wonder on his face. Ashamed of herself, she averted her eyes and turned to leave, vowing to come back later, when Master Reed was less occupied. But, at that moment, the smith raised his eyes and paused with the switch in mid-air.
“My lady, pray have patience. I shall attend to you immediately, after I am done attending to my wife. There is a seat yonder, you can rest for a bit until I’m done.”
Stunned, Alicia nevertheless found herself taking the smith’s advice, going to seat herself on the wooden bench that lay opposite to where the punishment was taking place. At first she tried to keep her eyes averted from what was taking place, but soon she found it was difficult to look away. The renewed swishing of the switch through the air was already telling her without a shadow of a doubt that the punisher was set on teaching a good lesson. When she dared to raise her eyes, she saw Master Reed had indeed returned upon what he’d been doing, with a grim, set look on his face. The woman was sobbing and wriggling as the switch fell mercilessly upon her, not failing to stripe her thighs and buttocks with red. She was now begging for her husband’s forgiveness, but Master Reed was big, young and strong, and he held her in place with no difficulty. In spite of his chastised wife’s wriggles and pleas, he continued to apply the switch diligently, apparently unmoved by her distress. It was only when he’d satisfied himself that his chastened wife was no longer writhing and struggling, but accepting her punishment with spent resignation, that he let her off his lap. The smith’s wife, who, Alicia noted, was little older than Alicia herself, hopped from one foot to another, doing a strange sort of dance as she began to rub her bottom and thighs. Master Reed watched her with sombre satisfaction in his dark eyes.
“I trust this has taught you your lesson, wife,” he told her sternly, still holding the switch. “You have her ladyship here to thank for the milder punishment you received.”
Master Reed’s wife turned her head to look to where Alicia was now sitting, her face crimson with embarrassment and her eyes brimming with tears. Alicia’s heart ached in sympathy. Not long ago, she’d undergone similar humiliation herself. The smith’s wife lowered her eyes, then turned to her husband.
“May I go now?” she asked in a subdued voice, her eyes still downcast.
Master Reed grunted his assent, and his wife scurried away to the house, one of her hands still clutching her bottom.
“Your ladyship, how may I be of assistance?” Master Reed said, rising and bowing his head respectfully.
He was a handsome man, Master Reed, with his dark hair and dark eyes, but, by the looks of it, quite stern to his wife. Alicia cleared her throat, struggling to concentrate on the errand that had brought her to the smith. She conferred with the blacksmith for a while, and was satisfied with his answers. He seemed able to do what she required, and readily agreed to send two apprentices to look at the house and take the required measurements, in order to provide right ironwork for the things that needed to be replaced. When Alicia inquired about the price, he scratched his head, however.
“Thing is, my lady,” he said, with a rather sheepish smile. “Tis this wife of mine who deals with things such as figures and numbers in our household. But, as you could see, she’s rather out of sorts today, because of the lesson I had to teach her. However, she can come over tomorrow, before my apprentices, and you can bargain for a fair price. How about that?”
Alicia nodded, but could not help expressing her concern over what she’d witnessed.
“Will your wife be well enough tomorrow, Master Reed, you reckon?”
Master Reed looked at her in puzzlement.
“Why shouldn’t she be?” he asked.
Alicia felt flustered.
“Well… you gave her quite a switching and she seemed… well… she seemed…”
Master Reed laughed, a mischievous sparkle dancing in his dark eyes.
“The switch stings something fierce, my lady, but, in truth, there’s no lasting damage from it, and the pain fades quickly. Trust me, my lady, the damage is far more to my wife’s pride than to her body. My woman shall
be as right as rain tomorrow, and I daresay, sweet-tempered. Methinks you’ll get a better bargain out of her, because she’ll be less waspish than she usually is.”
“If you say so,” Alicia muttered, deciding to hope Master Reed had the right of it.
Chapter 7
Last night her husband had returned from Court quite late, after she’d fallen asleep, and Alicia had not had the chance to glance upon him. She did so in the morning, noting he liked to sleep naked, and he’d not woken her up to claim any kind of husbandly rights. He had behaved graciously by letting her have her sleep, and Alicia thought with a smile that she could, after all, behave graciously in her turn. She caressed the hardness of his smooth chest, and she saw him smile in his sleep, yet he did not wake up. She understood he must be tired from his prolonged duties last night, yet she knew she would have to wake him up because he should head to Court this morning. She decided to behave like a truly gracious wife and let him sleep for a while longer, as she took care of laying out and readying the garments he would wear today.
When she saw at last that her husband was still sleeping, giving no sign he would wake, she rejoined him on the bed, as a wicked thought came into her head. There were several ways of making a man alert and ready, weren’t there? She pulled back the covers, and gently laid her lips upon his cock, which was lying at half-mast. And soon the scrumptious taste of his cock made her fully take him into her mouth. She smiled against his shaft when she felt him jolt wide awake, but continued her ministrations, until she made him spill his salty seed inside her mouth with a deep moan. She did not dislike the taste of it, and felt quite wicked as she swallowed his salty essence. She wiped her mouth, then looked upon him with a smile. She was still new to this kind of lovemaking, and she feared she’d been too artless.