A Use of Power

Over dinner she had played the dutiful wife and I wondered what the dullard had done to win himself so lovely a prize. Her beautifully curled blonde hair and piercing blue eyes spoke of the north lands but her name implied otherwise.

I pride myself on being able to intuit a woman's true nature but I saw nothing in her to suggest that she was other than she appeared to be. Perhaps it had been the way in which she doted on her young son that had cast a veil.

She half turned and lightly ran a finger over Emma's shoulder.

"A pretty young thing..."

Now I understood. Emma had not found her out, it had been Marie-Élise who had made the advance. How surprised then had she been when Emma brought her to my room? Or perhaps that had been her plan all along.

I looked at her with renewed respect.

"Would you like her to see her undressed?"

Emma looked shocked but Marie-Élise's eyes sparkled now safe in the knowledge that I was indeed a kindred spirit.

"Yes...I think I would."

Emma stood uncertainly until I roused her from her stupor.

"Don't keep us waiting!"

As she hesitantly started to remove her clothing I was intrigued as to how this game was going to play out.

"Oh my, she is like a little girl!"

As Emma stood naked before us Marie-Élise was fascinated but her denuded sex which was at odds with the perfectly brushed red tresses which hung almost to the small of her back.

I, of course, had seen Emma naked innumerable times and it was interesting to see how she was viewed by another.

Completely unabashed, she ran her fingers over Emma's smooth mound before surveying the plumpness of her freckled breasts but I decided that the time had come to reaffirm my control.

"Emma, make our guest comfortable, help her to undress."

Marie-Élise stood still and allowed Emma to remove her clothing. Her body, thus revealed, was very much like my own and I noted her appreciation as I relinquished the sheet with which I was covering myself.

In making her own comparison she absently used her fingers to comb the blonde growth that dressed her sex and looked, once more, towards Emma.

"Can she...?"

For a moment I was unsure what she was asking but then realized that she wanted to know if Emma was proficient with a blade. I answered quickly.

"Of course...but your husband?"

"...prefers more meat on the bones. I have produced his heir and he now has no need for me in his bed."

Her theatrical pout told me that the arrangement suited her eminently.

"Emma, fetch water and oil."

A small cauldron sat in the side of the fireplace with water for my ablutions and Emma decanted some into the porcelain washing bowl. The mention of oil was enough to confirm what was required of her and she produced my trousse de toilette.

Marie-Élise took a seat at the fireside and, without hesitation, she spread her legs wide to accommodate Emma who looked at me for permission. I gave the slightest nod and she went to her knees.

Using a cloth she carefully washed Marie-Élise between the legs and then poured a measure of oil into the palm of her hand. It was a secret blend of Maurelle's created from the leaves of the myrtle and I watched Marie-Élise's reaction with amusement

Emma would never be as skilled as Maurelle but she was not without abililty. As she began to work oil into the wet hair Marie-Élise would be feeling a pleasant warmth and then a sharp chill as Emma took her hands away.

She paused a moment to let the oil do its work and then she deftly set to work with the blade. A few bold strokes were enough to almost complete the task followed by a precise caress to ensure a perfect smoothness.

As Emma washed her for a second time Marie-Élise mewled with delight and could hardly wait to run her fingers over her own bare skin.

It warmed me to know that the process would only have heightened Emma's desperate need to please me but Marie-Élise too was greedily aroused.

"Don't just look! I want you to lick me!"

Emma looked at me in desperation and I smiled as I spoke.

"She is devoted to me alone. I find that denying her only helps to fuel her ardour."

Marie-Élise looked piqued but responded quickly.

"I will trade you a mouth for a mouth."

She rose from the chair bringing with her the embroidered cushion. She dropped it at the foot of the bed and turned to Emma.

"Come here."

I now had some inkling of what she intended and, loathe as I was to relinquish my hold over Emma, the prospect was too tempting. Again, Emma looked to me for guidance.

"Just do everything that she tells you."

Emma moved closer to the bed and Marie-Élise pointed at the floor.

"Lie down with your head on the cushion."

Emma now understood and as she took her place she wore the hurt expression of one who had been betrayed.

When she was prone Marie-Élise moved over her and, very slowly, she sank down onto her captives face.

Once settled she slyly beckoned me with a single finger and I required no further bidding. I slid to the end of the bed and sat with my legs parted. She wriggled a little to encourage Emma to begin and then, with a lascivious smile, she extended her tongue and licked her top lip.

As she did so I blinked in surprise. Her tongue was unnaturally long as she demonstrated by stretching it further to touch the tip of her nose. She laughed at my reaction and then leant forward and closed her mouth to my sex.

In this there was a second revelation. Her mouth was incredibly warm and, though I do not consider myself as superstitious, I felt a momentary unease.

I had experienced something similar only once before when Maurelle had bidden Emma to take a long draught of mulled wine before she attended to me but Marie-Élise had no such aid.

She drew away from me just a little.

"I think that it was God's design that I should love another woman."

With that she re-engaged and my body thrilled as her tongue began, what seemed, a never ending incursion. When, finally she was fully home, I could feel the very tip seeking out nectar with the fluttering delicacy of a hawk moth.

I could have remained impaled on that agreeable tongue for hours but she was breathing just a little harder now as she began to succumb to Emma's own particular skills. She tightened the grip of her thighs and began to slowly rock back and forth but she was not to know that Emma, in this regard, had a particular fear of being closed in.

It amused me to test her limits from time to time and, in her efforts to please me, she would tolerate the ill-treatment but this time she was being required to put her faith in a complete stranger.

Marie-Élise withdrew her tongue and began to lick my sex rhythmically as she tried to balance the giving of pleasure with the receiving of it but the motion of her hips was becoming less controlled.

She was discovering the delights of a bare mound lubricated with a mix of perspiration and arousal and her natural scent vied with mine to thicken the air.

Her moment of release was fast approaching and I wanted her to seek out my clitoris so that we could reach the pinnacle as one but, as she started to come, she thrust her tongue deep inside me once more.

This sudden invasion triggered something. Usually, I build slowly towards the tipping point and only relinquish control at the last and, in some odd way, I felt cheated but I could not deny the pleasurable sensations which coursed through my body and I gave an exultant cry.

Marie-Élise began to suck at me even as she announced her own release with a series of animal groans that vibrated deep within my sex.

It took me some time to gather myself but I was returned to reality by a muted scream of distress from Emma. Marie-Élise was breathing hard, all energy spent, and, in her relaxed state, she was bearing down full weight on Emma's unfortunate face.

I extended a hand and helped Marie-Élise to her feet to relieve Emma's anguish but I smiled as she was revealed to the light. Her perfectly groomed hair was matted to her head and I had never seen her so flushed. She was perspiring freely but there was evidence of a creamy rime around her mouth.

The sight of her in this state fanned the embers that were still glowing between my legs and, on a whim, I squeezed Marie-Élise's hand.

"Swap places with me."

It was hard to say which of the two of them was more surprised but, in all likelihood, it was Emma. She knew that I could be capricious and demanding when it came to my own needs and only very rarely did I return the favour.

Marie-Élise was only too happy to comply. She found a new lease of life as she took my

place on the bed whilst I came to rest on Emma's mortified face. I eased back a little pressing down on her chin prompting her to open her mouth.

I wanted her to concentrate on my clitoris and she immediately began to comply with intuitive understanding. I wondered, briefly, if it was still enjoyable for her following on so quickly from Marie-Élise's ill-use but it mattered not.

I now surveyed Marie-Élise's sex which lay open before me. Only once before had I ever seduced a married woman but she had not borne children. I was not sure what to expect, and perhaps in some unconscious way I was looking to my own future, but she was perfectly formed.

Her inner lips were flawless matched twins and her clitoris, peeking from its pink retreat, was enticingly plump. I looked up at her and smiled as I slowly licked along the whole length of her sex to savour the taste of her but then I loitered at the apex and began to trace a lazy circle around her sensitive bud.

Very quickly it began to engorge and I flicked the tip of my tongue beneath it just inside her sex. The ancients, so more enlightened than us understood the pleasure of women and Maurelle had secretly shown me a translation of an ancient text which illustrated and spoke of this swelling, or orgasmós.

Had Marie-Élise had more patience Emma would have demonstrated all of the skills that she had been taught but now it fell to me to open her eyes. I kept my touch so light that I could feel her quickening pulse and my nose filled with the scent of her as she began to leak.

Her body tensed a little, and I think that she was surprised that she found herself so responsive, but she was fighting her own demanding instincts waiting to see what I would do.

For the next few minutes I concentrated on that one spot occasionally varying the speed and pressure of my tongue whilst, all the while, Emma continued to slowly bring me to the boil.

Marie-Élise began to whimper softly but I held her at the edge. I smiled to myself as she massaged her painfully swollen nipples but the time was not yet right. Occasionally, I let my tongue slip inside so that I could gauge her heat and wetness but always I came back to her clitoris.

Twice I increased the tempo, allowing her to believe that the moment had arrived, only to ease back but when, finally, my own orgasm was imminent I pursed my lips around her delicate bud and began to suck softly.

For all my teasing she came gently and I imagined the warmth enveloping her body as it was mine. Emma had worked her magic but she did not stop. For me the first was just a precursor as I was about to demonstrate to Marie-Élise.

I licked the warm wetness from her sex but then returned to that same tantalizing rhythm. It elicited a groan that may have spoken of weariness but I knew her body was capable of more.

It took much longer this time but I could be infinitely patient not least because I knew that Emma would not stop until I finally told her to do so.

The candlelight was beautifully reflected from the sheen of perspiration on Marie-Élise's skin including the high points of her fulsome breasts but, tempting as they were, I kept to my task.

She had reached that point where resignation had given way to a realization that it was, after all possible, and now she was beseeching me to bring her to the moment of crisis for a third time.

Locked beneath me I doubt that Emma could hear, particularly as my thighs had in the past few moments pressed more closely to the sides of her head, but she understood. She began to work her tongue deep inside me and I provided the same service for Marie-Élise.

Her body began to shake with the strain of gaining the summit once more, and I sensed her growing despair that she might fail, but she reckoned without her unfailing guide. I sought out her clitoris again but this time I rasped it roughly with the flat of my tongue.

Within seconds she was crying out as she was wrenched by jolts of pure pleasure, surging one after another, completely unaware that I too had at last surrendered to Emma's slavish ministrations.

When, much later, we had all recovered I dismissed Emma brusquely and it was Marie-Élise who was invited to share my bed for the night.

Chapter Three

It was the following day, and we had almost reached de Guigane's castle, when I discovered the note amongst my things. It could only have been left by Marie-Élise and it said, quite simply, "Beware Gilbert".

It could only be referring to de Guigane's younger son but he was unlikely to be at court.

He had recently married into the family of de Guigane's eastern neighbour and there had been rumours of border incursions from the south which would keep him occupied.

I put it to the back of my mind as I had more immediate problems to deal with. I had requested no fuss on my arrival but de Guigane had, nevertheless, sent an honour guard to escort me.

A small, desultory, crowd turned out to greet us but I did not feel slighted. De Guigane had already sired two children by his first wife who, unfortunately, had died in childbirth. The people knew that this second marriage was a matter of political expedience.

I begged leave to rest and make ready before being introduced to my husband to be but, in reality, I was anxious to speak to Maurelle.

My chambers were nicely appointed but I assumed that it was Maurelle who had arranged for the abundance of fresh flowers. I greeted her effusively and alluded to the one question which had been preying on my mind

"Well?"

Maurelle looked downcast.

"The rumour has it that, despite his age, he still has a voracious carnal appetite."

My heart dropped. I had hoped that de Guigane might be beyond such things. I was not fool enough to think that he would ignore me altogether, after all I was accounted one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom, but it seemed now that there would be more than just a token consummation.

How ironic, that for all my experience, I was still officially a virgin, and given a choice I would have happily remained so.

I looked up to find Maurelle laughing.

"It is true that he ruts like a stag...but he keeps catamites for the purpose."

"Are you sure?"

"It seems to be an open secret. There is even some question as to the paternity of his two sons."

That night I met de Guigane with lighter heart. There was a banquet in my honour to which all of the local nobility had been invited and there was a pleasing lack of formality.

I was a child when I first met de Guigane but he had aged well. He was a kindly man who put in mind of my own father and when it came time to dance he partnered me just once insisting that I would have a merrier time with some of the younger men at court.

He further endeared himself to me by announcing that the wedding would not take place until the King found leave to attend.

That night I showed the note to Maurelle. She told me that there were rumours about the southern alliance but nothing substantive. She suggested that we might learn more from the Countess Bergeron whom she had already marked out as someone who might be "tired of her husband".

Over the following weeks I settled in to my new life. Alphonse continued to afford me every respect and made it clear to all the nobles at court that he expected nothing less of them. The epitome was an invitation to join him at council where affairs of state were regularly discussed and legal arguments heard.

As days passed Alphonse began to sound out my opinion. It was just trivial things at first but later we discussed more serious matters. I was almost childishly pleased when I overheard him telling the Abbé that I was possessed of a keen intelligence and an intuitive understanding.

I was so caught up in the unexpected political status that I had assumed that, for once in my life, my physical desires took second place. Emma and Cecile still assuaged my immediate needs but I had not felt the urge to cast my net further afield.

That changed when the Countess Bergeron returned to court. She, too, was an exile from the north forced to marry a politically important dotard. At dinner she looked quite radiant. She wore her blonde hair up in the latest style and, like me, she kept her use of paint and powders to a minimum.

She was five or six years older than me and her large blue eyes gave her a look of flirtatious innocence but there was a shrewdness about her. She had a beautifully shaped mouth and when leading on her young male admirers she would put a finger to her lips in a charmingly coquettish manner.

The following morning I asked Maurelle to extend an invitation to the Countess to attend me in my rooms after prayers. She returned with a positive reply but she was still not sure as yet as to the Countesses' proclivities.

I was mildly disappointed when she arrived in company with her two maids and so I asked Maurelle and Cecile to remain with me. We chatted amiably, and inconsequentially, for some time exchanging news from the north. She gave no obvious clues until I asked about her husband's ill health when her answer was curious.

"Don't you find that men can be so tiresome?

"How so?"

"I sometimes feel that the world would be a better place if it were a gynaecocracy."

Maurelle and I had privately discussed this notion in the context of the ancient philosophers but it was a dangerous strand of thought for public discourse. I paused a moment and smiled before replying.

"Perhaps a world devoid of men altogether?"

"And what of procreation?"

"Were it possible, I think it might be altogether gentler and more loving amongst women."

The cards were dealt and it was now for her to show her hand.

"I must admit to a certain distaste when I see those young boys cast as women in the court plays. I wonder, perhaps, if I should feel the same were it two women called upon to kiss?"

I understood, then, that she was an ingénue, unsure of herself and looking to me to enlighten her.

"Perhaps a tableau? Just for the fun of it. Your maid, what is her name?"

I could not help but notice that one of her attendants was as pretty as the other was frumpish and it was towards her that I looked. The Countess responded by touching her fingers to the prettier girls russet curls.

"This is Sophie. She has only been with me but a short while."

I beckoned Cecile to my side and whispered in her ear. She tensed on hearing what I had to say but the prospect of life on the streets was even more threatening now that we were so far from home.

She approached Sophie who stood naively before her completely innocent of all that the preceding conversation had portended. She tensed as Cecile took her face in her hands and then awkwardly brought their mouths together.

She was unsure what the Countess expected of her and she struggled half-heartedly but Cecile, mindful of my admonition not to disappoint, held her firmly in place. It amused me to think that for all of the oral skills that she had developed this was almost certainly the first time she had kissed another woman so intimately

For the first few seconds she held herself as if posing for a painting but, in serving my physical needs, she had long been denied the true warmth of emotional contact. This, and perhaps the thought that Sophie was similarly abased, led to an intriguing transformation.