Lady Cardenza, Duchess of Rumona, had too much mind for a woman. She read Latin, wrote treatises, debated male scholars – and, worst of all, educated other women to do the same. Because of her, so many noblewomen thought themselves too smart to marry or submit. Lady Cardenza certainly would not marry. She would tolerate no man stupider than herself, that is, she would tolerate no man.

Her lords, desiring an heir, had pushed her into a corner. If a man of high birth could conquer her in a public debate, then she must become his wife. Her lords had underestimated her wit and intelligence. No scholar could outreason this Hypatia!

Until…

Duke Lorenzo had arrived a week before his debate with Cardenza. They ate dinner together, only their learned conversation for company. Cardenza almost swooned at Lorenzo’s inexhaustible knowledge, infinite wit. Were she less haughty, she’d even realise the truth: compared to Lorenzo, she was just a silly girl who barely knew how to write her name.

He recounted his studies in the East, and the skills and tricks he’d acquired. He snatched a candle and held it before Cardenza’s eyes. “Watch what I can do with a mere flame. Look at the tiny, flickering candle flame.”

His company was so agreeable, and his voice so soothing, and the flame so pretty, that Cardenza let her eyes droop and wait drowsily for his trick.

“The flame, so small, yet so bright, like your mind.”

Like… her mind…

“The mind of the female scholar: bright, yet weak, so weak and helpless. The right man can just-”

He blew out the flame, and so too the flame in her mind, the light in her half-lidded eyes.

Grinning at the mindless scholaress, he said, “My dear, silly Cardenza, for the next week we’ll be perfecting your debating style.”

Cardenza came skipping onto the debate stage in a jester’s outfit, jingling by the bells in her cap and in her sceptre. She had borrowed the outfit from her own fool, so it fit a tad snugly around the bust and bum (not that the judges, nor her courtiers, minded tight, thin fabric pressing against her fulsome breasts and bottom).

The debate question was: “Are women naturally foolish?”

“No!” said Cardenza. “I had to work hard to get this foolish. Nothing natural about that!” She bonked her head with her sceptre. “With a silly-jism worthy of Harris Tottle, I here prove women are smart: intelligence is mind and mind is soul and soul is a Christian’s worth. Well… a woman’s worth is her tits-” She bent forward, pressing her boobs together. “And her bum!” She spun round and stuck her heavy buttocks out at her courtiers. “Ergo,” she said, bending so low she was looking at the audience from between her legs, “women are smart because our bums are so big!”

The courtiers guffawed at the usually so solemn Duchess’ silly proof. They guffawed so long that she did a jig about the stage, a jig so vigorous that her ill-fitting pantaloons fell around her ankles, tripping her onto her face, with her bare bum in the air.

“Would you look at that?” she said, wiggling her bum. “My genius is showing!”

Once the court recovered from doubling over in laughter at the humiliation of their haughty Duchess, Duke Lorenzo began his argument.

“Are women naturally foolish?” He knelt by Cardenza and smacked her big, vulnerable bottom. “Well, the smartest of them has proven herself a natural fool.”

“How could I have lost that debate?” said the new wife of Duke Lorenzo, buck-naked as he had commanded. “Those were the best arguments I could think of!”

They were in her – no, his bedchamber. For their wedding night, she had devised a new set of fool’s antics: the silliest, sexiest animal acts. She pretended to be a cat licking clean its thighs, a monkey sucking on its own feet, and a dog slobbering over her master’s bone. Her fool’s pride bloomed with his every mocking laugh and with every twitch of his member.

“Your arguments were ingenious, my adorable fool,” said Lorenzo lying in bed as his eager wife sucked his cock. “Though you spoke only falsehoods, you revealed the truth: women are natural fools.”

The suggestion took hold. She disgorged his member and stood at the foot of the bed. “Women are natural fools! Women are natural fools!” She jumped up and down as she recited the mantra, tits bouncing, bottom jiggling, a big, dumb smile on her face. “Women are natural fools!”

When he grabbed her tits from behind, she stopped reciting and started moaning. ”And since women are natural fools, how’s about we direct those women in your silly academy to a more proper use of their wits.”

“That’s so smart that I’d already thought of it!” she said, rubbing her plump bottom against his throbbing member. “Every court in Italy will beg for a jester with a fool’s wit and a lady’s bounce.”

Her pride quickly became squeaks, babbles and moans as he bent her over and got his cock in her. What little part of her silly mind that wasn’t drowned by lust heard her husband say, as he ploughed her from behind:

“If any of your students disagree about the new direction, I’ll just persuade them of their natural foolishness.”