Lady Cecelia Ch. 03 Pt. 03

a continuation of this tale

The scene:

At dawn Lady Cecelia and her entourage have been led to the palace of Agincourt accompanied by counselors for Lady Cecelia, a counselor for William of Edenbridge to enable a parlay with King Phillip's apanage and regency of the estate, some knights and servants to the Court. Among them was a Lord of the house surrounded by wards and vassals of the house of Dauphin.

In attendance to this audience were Ladies of the Court among them Lady Yvette, niece to the Dauphin and with her a silent handmaiden.

There in an anteroom Lady Cecelia and her protectorate were confronted by Yvette, her counselor and handmaiden aside from the formal negotiations. Formal greetings were exchanged and Cecelia thanks her benefactor for her interest in Sir William's ransom until Yvette makes clear in terms unmistakable that William has committed a love's betrayal in her own presence of which she begins to detail until Cecelia in realization of these revelations meaning to her love, flashes with anger and furiously condemns her.

"Daughter of Satan! You have bewitched him! " Cecelia has her arm held by a compatriot.

Undeterred by the outburst which she ignores wryly this Lady of French court comments upon Cecelia's garments.

"Is this the dress of English royalty which claims such sophistication?" bemused, Yvette continued "This is an effrontery to the Court: this a peasant's attire indeed! How unfortunate it is draped upon so lovely a rose."

"Bastard Kings of France to have spawned such a devil in the adulteress who stands before me!" Cecelia's face, flushed with anger, held the blush of youthful beauty's eyes piercingly dark. Yvette, with confidence in which power reigns, turns to her handmaiden and whispers something in her own language to which Cecelia responds immediately

"I understand your language as I do my own, Lady, think not privacy from my ears."

"I see no use for English, "with a wry smile Yvette demurs, "But Lady of England, exceptions are made here. And that no misinterpretation can confuse my meaning: I will speak your tongue as it pleases you which is more than I deemed necessary in the company of your lowly Knight."

"In his company?!" Cecelia blurted barely able to control herself Cecelia drew upon her mission for strength, "I come here with ransom for Sir William of Edenbridge and in the presence of your Dauphin I will demand his release as is in accordance with treaty and be well-done with this land and with you."

Yvette, ignoring Cecelia's frustration, begins appraising the Englishwoman in a manner which draws silence from Cecelia and leaves her strangely exposed. An unwelcome gaze sought to possess her femininity in an unsettling unholy manner. At the same time two counselors spoke in words unheard: Cecelia's ears deafened by distraction.

"I believe...." Yvette interrupted as her eyes never left Cecelia, "you Counselors will find the Dauphin accommodating and useful. He above all is gracious and just, far more than an English invader who seeks to usurp our lands in the name of his God, However, I will entreat the Dauphin to honor your ransom which will unlock this Knight's safe passage from this kingdom and yours Lady Ceceli : once you honor my simple request."

"What request is that, my Lady." the counselor for Edenbridge asked.

"My desire will be revealed in due course. "

The eyes of French femininity were upon Cecelia as the fire of an oven seeks to bake that within whether it be fruit , bread or sweet sugary cake.

For the first time since coming to France Cecelia felt apprehension. Her strength of will had carried her across the sea and marched her to the seat of French power armed with righteous purpose. William of Edenbridge would be released but now she was dangerously at odds with what she had supposed her rights entailed.

She had agreed to satisfy a personal oddity of which there was no precedence! Should her submission carry no honor? What reason did the Dauphin have to release any of them aside from Lady Yvettes' word that Cecelia had honored her pledge? From this unusual position of weakness, Cecelia spent the evening distraught.

Just the smallest word from her love would have transformed her into a

tower of strength. With nothing save isolation and fear to keep her company Cecelia sat pensive unable to be comforted even by her handmaiden in this affair: her closest confidant Lady Lydia.

Fretting her course of action and fearing its consequences went for naught for a knock came to her door a precisely at nine. In this atmosphere Cecelia was called to appear in the chambers of the Dauphin's niece: the Lady Yvette.

As has been said before: the house of the Dauphin of Agincourt was rife with corruption and debauchery. Never in French history was one more decadent than this.

There came for Lady Cecelia and Lady Lydia long candlelit walk. An escort consisting of guard and a watchman walked them through winding upper floors of Agincourt castle to private quarters high above the moat and castle grounds.

This evening journey was the requirement exacted from Cecelia at her audience with the Dauphin counselor and was the requested wish of his worldly niece: Lady Yvette. Here in the darkness, silence was broken only by footsteps on stone and the flicking of mounted hall torches they passed.

Cecelia's thoughts were filled with trepidation. In her hands a carved box containing the sovereigns for her love's release, in her handmaiden for this effort Lydia's hands were the flowers Cecelia brought as a gift, and her preparation for the offer to kiss this Lady's ring as her final humility before Yvette's seat of power.

"Does this Lady believe she represents the Papal crown!? " had come Cecelia's earlier incredulous response to her counselor's settlement. It was both an odd and disturbing request that lacked any sensibility. She would perform this duty if it meant their final escape from France.

They paused at the large oaken door closed to the chambers of Lady Yvette before Cecelia turned, looking square in Lydia's eyes to issue the instruction "Dear Lydia. Not a word of this is ever to be spoken."

Faced with her Lady's stern expression Lydia trembled with apprehension while swearing her lips would be forever sealed. An iron knocker a door opened inward for their entrance to Lady Yvette's white-walled high beamed bedchamber where Yvette and her handmaiden waited. A flickering glow from the hearth and candles lit the room.

Cecelia turned to Yvettes preparations for them as Lydia shrank away as one who hides from discovery. A corner of the bedchamber would eventually find her ; fearfully clenching hands to her lips ignored hopefully until ushered away with her Lady long minutes in the future.

"First, this..... " Yvette greeted her with two crystal glasses poured with green liquid. An arrow spoon rested atop on which was seated a cube of sugar. The water Marie poured transformed the contents a milky lime. Lady Cecelia was beckoned drink.

"You would poison me? " Cecelia was incredulous.

"La fee verte" Yvette answered smiling, " It is nothing but a green fairy. "

"I will not drink with you." She swore

"Oh but you will if you want your ransom served!" Lady Yvette swore confidently, "You shall soon see no harm shall come from this innocent drink. It holds a pleasure amid its liquid you will discover allows my requests of you tonight to be met with a more willing...shall we say..... obedience. As proof, I will sip the same, but you shall not deny me. Lady Cecelia, since our first correspondences I have found your nature stimulating. You are an unassailable character that incites me. Though I care not a whit for him your sacrifice for this knight amuses me.

What then is the distance your humility shall travel? That is my wonder and interest: your ability to humble yourself before me. You have been summoned to pay homage to me for the release of your man. My pleasure will be found discovering the failings of your honor and self-will before my own. "

"I am here to pay his ransom and kneel to your power, m'lady. Nothing more." Cecelia stated her only intent.

"Your lord sits imprisoned and shamed, Lady Cecelia. Any protestations serve only to extend his suffering. Or, perhaps that is your intent? " Yvette wondered.

Cecelia paused. There was nothing she would not do. William must be back in her arms and soon. " I shall drink with you then if it means his sooner release."

"Sip these drinks with me and thy knight shall be yours anon." Both held a glass. An effort by Lady Yvette to touch their crystal rims was repulsed.

"Know I condemn you as a she-devil and if what you say of my William: an adulteress as well" Lady Cecelia's eyes burned to pierce her antagonist's with hatred.

Yvette bristled with imperiousness. In an impatient and authoritative voice she expressed no sympathy.

"English Firebrand! This ring of which I speak will be the genuflection of your English lips to my demands! They will not be spitefully given I can assure you! To my ends there will come your self-witness to the lion's roar you flourish and the feline purr it shall become. You shall be tamed as surely as Venus rules the sex of your heart! So drink you this with me and end these useless protestations you put forward with nothing save impudence to back them"

That the issue might pass quickly Cecelia drank. As each sip slipped across her tongue and down her throat shefelt the liquid seep through her being and with it; her compulsions slipped slowly away just as the sunset fades to night.

Her stars, planets and swirling universe became Yvette's. Cecelia would clutch to them as a primitive would on the edge of civilization awed and overwhelmed.

From her corner of anonymity, Lydia watched the strength of her Lady's pride slip away. Within its surrender came, ever closer, the power of the Frenchwoman over her object of affection, for indeed Cecelia's seduction was one which the pure and innocent Lydia had never before been privy, and yet it unfolded before her eyes unabated with her Lady's helpless approval. There came words misunderstood between the two then a moment of laughter. Then came actions in movements that left no doubt to a compliance that both shocked, shamed yet thrilled her with new astonishment. Cecelia in her state needed knowing.

"Why do you exact my humiliation, Lady." came Cecelia's query. The blue eyes staring into hers never blinked.

"Your beauty: which did capture my eyes in Agincourt has captured my sleep as well. My desire became the extension of your Knight's solitude, I shall live these hours in your sweet bosom."

"Those should be the sentiments of a man!" Cecelia tried with all her might to resist, but for her sake, she was unable to conjure reason, excuse nor denial. Her thoughts swirled in expectation, "For both this drink and your words, my curiosity has been captured, something within me swells as a stream before the flood. Yours is devilish persuasion: whether it be what courses through my veins or some restless dream my modesty cannot hide. Yet I should hate you for this misdeed."

"Stand before me." Lady Yvette demanded and took the hand before her to lift her up before her, "Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made for kissing, my beauty, not for such contempt."

Button by button, cinch by strap Lady Cecelia's waistcoat, claret bodice and cotton chemise opened to both women's deftly moving hands. Marie was more than a willing hand servant in this.

"Should thy revengeful heart not forgive, Lo, I will lend thee silken bonds of my word as delicate as your sensibilities enforce and lead you to my bed there to bind you fast."

"You have forced upon my lips a potion that has robbed my will and yet you would place me upon some rack to torture some unknown confession from me when my will to withhold has been stolen? What would you have me say Lady that I cannot do other than offer freely?" Cecelia asked.

"Your assumed resistance has been my overflowing cup since your arrogance became my first note. You will find, dear Cecelia, a touch among us three that will turn you captive to honeyed suggestion. My torture will prove sweet, your confession shall be offered freely. The subject of my own soul's desire as I have enjoy'd the sin of many a woman's poor heart, Even as thy breast encompasseth your own for it is soon to be mine."

Cecelia felt a building sensual glow seeping into her being. She tried an explanation, "Tis more than you deserve, yet even now you teach my thoughts to flatter you."

"To take you in your heart's extremest hate," Lady Yvette came closer taunting Cecelia's will, "with curses in your mouth, tears in your eyes, with witness of god, your conscience, and..." she indicated the hands of them both upon her, " these gentle binds and I nothing to back my suit at all, but the plain devil and royal demeanor.....And yet to win you this way! This then is my victory and my sweet condition."

Yvette's lips were inches from her own. Cecelia felt as if to swoon.

From behind, the handmaidens touch had not left her. Warm and causing her to tingle, yearning when it left and thrill at its return again. The moment of resistance had passed without her knowing.

"Enlevez mon chemisier , fille? "....and Marie came behind Yvette to gently lift the blouse from her shoulders. Girl eyes were on her amused hands stroking her Lady's arms as she watched the reaction.

Cecelia found her gaze enveloping Yvette's lithe tall paleness having never been confronted with beauty so porcelain or a head of hair so straight, fine and vibrantly red. Taller than she, blue eyes encompassed her own. Cecelia stood still erect.and immovable had she even cared a fraction's hesitation. There was none. In her nakedness waiting for lips she knew would touch her own powerless to resist or justify her will's collapse. A slip of the finest sendel slid across the French woman's hips and fell to the floor. Flaming fine hair that barely hid the fairest of French womanhood: its exquisite femininity seized her eyesight. The inches between them seemed charged as would magnets of attracting fields.

"Then, I confess, before high heaven and in this privacy," Cecelia's voice was barely a whisper as she spoke, "That I shall love your desire for me."

"Je souhaite essayer votre baiser, Cecelia .." Yvette whispered demanding her mouth. Trembling, Cecelia felt the power of Yvettes' pink nipples sliding across her own breasts. She sensed her own nipples peak softly. Gently she felt another woman's lips press to hers. Her breath caught as the careful softness and a flood of sensuality unexpected and impossible to comprehend. Naked warm hips met her own: exceptionally soft. Cecelia's mouth opened unable to resist a tongue she let slide carefully against hers knowing there would be nothing she would not do.

All that Yvette had promised her and demanded of her was coming to pass. More than her simple patronage this was a seduction so foreign and unimaginable in its entirety yet every aspect shocking her with consuming sensuality.

Holding herself ready for touch of hands on the most private parts of her body Cecelia felt Marie smoothing then squeezing her buttocks from behind fondling then sliding an elegant hand between her parted legs to sense the willingness in the dew of her arousal.

She found herself staggering while led by the girl to the padded silken covers laid out for her unmistakable bed. Reclined quickly with a desire she'd never thought possible Cecelia opened her legs to Yvette's French handmaiden. Between them Marie found a position to attain all that she exposed. There came, beyond kisses which greedily tasted the insides of her knees, her thighs, the valley that nestled its curl-covered mound, every last bit of her sense had flown in expectation to the syrupy erotic press of lips to the sanctuary of her womanhood.

The girl had her in preparation drenched with her own wetness. Yvette stood aside and above Cecelia, stroking her face, smoothing her hair, tender against her cheeks and whispered unspeakable French eroticism in explanation of what would be in store.

"This talent of Marie's , it pleases you.... does it not? " came the melodic sound of her captor's voice whispering into her ear. Cecelia had dispensed of any thoughts but these. Her hips began a movement to the handmaidens tongue. Her clitoris bathed with ministrations that caused its swelling bud to search closely hungrily for an exceptional woman's swirling tongue. Marie's lips had pursed. A kiss supplanted sucked and surrounded in stimulation exquisite consuming her with sexual hunger.

In the ebb and flow of each sweet assault, Cecelia felt closely attentive beside her, Yvette's hands on her breasts grasping , plying them in a massage ending always with a squeeze and pull of her nipples. They stood towards the rafters. She arched towards them for more. Yvette's lips were on hers again, longer and more familiar in a sweet addition to what was happening to her. They were tender and softly demanding response and claiming it given.

Marie covered what lay between opened thighs each kiss delightfully wanton. Cecelia felt the flowing caress of hands soft about her legs moving to capture her hips guiding her thighs to the cradle of the handmaiden's shoulders. Arms pressed along her sides until warm fingertips moved across her torso in their deliberate walk towards her breasts.

Heart pounding Cecelia felt her nipples explode with desire for their touch. Her labia had fallen open to an encompassing mouth. In desperation she raised her head to witness her own taking and witnessed Marie's eyes meet her own knowing her hunger. The tongue was a mad thing about the length and breadth of her stiffened clitoris.

Cecelia gasped. She was going to come, oh so quickly!."oh, please!" she cried out loud.

Realizing her efforts were close to providing Cecelia's release, Marie's fingertips finally tested each nipple the barest touch of them causing those hips to leap in uncontrolled eruption against her mouth. Possessing the swale of her, the touch which tortured the orgasm from her, those lips knew just when to surround her clitoris and crush open mouthed against to tongue-dance across the swell of it.

So soon!...oh, god...so soon!.....Helplessly, Cecelia could do no more than reach towards her sweet tormentor filling her hands with the girl's hair crying out in a voice unrecognizable even to herself in deep guttural groans.

Cecelia came in great clutching orgasms against the girl's face.

There was no detecting Yvettes climbing beside her nor realizing her nakedness moving above or one knee then the other placing itself on both sides of her tilted head until the seeping pulsing rush of pleasure began to fade.

Cecelia's eyes opened confused by deep undeniable pleasure. Lady Yvette had placed herself above her head straddling her face. Cecelia's dreamy vision filled quickly with the opened cleft with Yvette positioned above looking down at the face of her sweet prisoner. The scent of her glistening in the fairest of peach and pink amid the faintest of fine strawberry curls with bud of the Frenchwoman's clitoris appearing clearly revealed for her sight alone.

There captured and pierced through Yvette's delicate labia was, silver and sparkling in candlelight, the ring she realized was meant for her homage.

Lydia stood in the shadows.

Had she been considered or her comfort been arranged for; the poor girl

would have found the wall which now pressed against her back regardless. Had Lady Cecelia's handmaiden been able to run, she would have certainly deserted her caretaker to flee the room, the castle, and the disturbing images which unfolded before her eyes for Lydia's will came only at the behest of her benefactor.