The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty (14 page)

Princess Lizetta’s groans grew more insistent. She seemed now without hope or pride or anger. Her face was knotted and pink, and her gag looked most painful, her huge eyes flashing as they implored the Lady.

“Lord Gregory,” the Lady said, “you must think of something special.” Then to Beauty’s horror, the lady reached out delicately and fastidiously and pinched Princess Lizetta’s pubic lips hard so that they exuded moisture. Then she pinched the right lip and the left, and the girl winced with pain and misery.

Lord Gregory had meantime snapped his fingers for the Lord with the iron clawlike hand, and whispered something Beauty could not hear. “It will strengthen her punishment.”

And now the Lord appeared with a little pot and a brush and as the Lady stepped back, he took the brush and bathed Princess Lizetta’s naked organ in a heavy syrup. A few droplets fell to the floor, and the Princess again made known her misery. She sobbed softly behind her gag, but the Lady only smiled rather innocently and shook her head. “It will attract any flies we have about,” Lord Gregory said, “and if we have none it shall produce its inevitable itching as it dries. It is quite uncomfortable.”

The Lady did not seem satisfied. Her pretty and innocent face was smooth however and she sighed. “I suppose it will do for now, but I wish she were bound with her legs apart to a stake in the garden. Then let the flies and the little insects of the air find her honeyed mouth. She deserves it.”

She turned to express her thanks to Lord Gregory, and again Beauty was struck by her bright ruddy face. Her braids were done with tiny pearls and thin strands of blue ribbon.

But Beauty, almost lost in her contemplation of all this, was suddenly shocked to realize the Lady was looking at her.

“Oooooh, yes, it is the Prince’s lovely one,” she said, and now she advanced, and Beauty felt the Lady’s hand lifting her face. “And how sweet she is, how truly beautiful.”

Beauty shut her eyes, trying to restrain her heaving breaths. She did not believe she could endure the imperious touch of this young Lady. And yet there was nothing she could do.

“O, I should so like to have her take Princess Lizetta’s place, it would be a treat for everyone,” said the Lady.

“But that is impossible, my Lady,” said Lord Gregory. “The Prince is most possessive of her. I cannot allow her to participate in such a spectacle.”

“But surely we’ll see more of her. Will she be run on the Bridle Path?”

“I feel certain, in time,” said Lord Gregory. “There is no accounting for the whim of the Prince. But here, you may examine her if you wish. There is no rule prohibiting it.”

He lifted Beauty by her wrists and forced her hips forward with the handle of the paddle. “Open your eyes and keep them down,” he whispered. Beauty could not bear to see this lovely Lady’s hands as they moved towards her. But Lady Juliana touched her breasts, and then her smooth stomach.

“Why she is radiant and so full of tender spirit.”

Lord Gregory laughed softly. “Yes, she is, and you are so discerning to value it.”

“They turn out all the better for that,” said Lady Juliana with quiet wonder. She pinched Beauty’s cheek as she had Princess Lizetta’s secret lips. “O, what I would give for a quiet hour alone with her in my chambers.”

“In time, in time,” said Lord Gregory.

“Yes, and I bet she fights the paddle so, with her tender spirit.”

“Only with her spirit,” said Lord Gregory. “She is obedient.”

“I can see that. Well, my girl, I must leave you. Be confident that you are exquisite. I wish I had you over my knee. I’d paddle you until sundown. You’d play a lot of little games running from me in the garden, you would.” And then she kissed Beauty warmly on the mouth, and left as quickly as she had come, in a flurry of burgundy velvet and flying braids.

 

 

Just before Beauty took the sleeping potion from Leon she begged to know the meaning of what she had heard. “What is the Bridle Path?” she asked in a whisper, “and the village, my Lord, what does it mean to be sent there!”

“Never speak of the village,” Leon cautioned her calmly. “That punishment is for incorrigibles and you are the slave of the Crown Prince himself. As for the Bridle Path, my lovely, you shall know soon enough.”

He laid her down in her bed, strapping her ankles and wrists far away from her so that not even in sleep could she touch herself. “Dream,” he said to her, “for tonight the Prince will want you.”

T
HE PRINCE was finishing his supper when Beauty was brought to him. The castle hummed with life, torches flaring in the long, high, vaulted corridors. And the Prince sat in a library of sorts, eating alone at a narrow table. Several ministers were about with papers for him to sign, and there was the sound of their soft leather sock boots on the floor, and the crackling of the scrolls of parchment.

Beauty knelt by his chair, listening to the scratch of his pen, and when she was sure he would not see, she looked up at him.

He appeared radiant to her. He wore a blue velvet surcoat trimmed in silver and emblazoned with his coat of arms above a heavy silk girdle. The sides of the surcoat were loosely laced and through them Beauty could see his white shirt, and she admired as well the firm muscles of his legs in the long tight fustian breeches.

He took a few more bites of his meat as a plate was set down on the stones for Beauty. And quickly she lapped up the wine he poured in a bowl for her, and ate the meat as delicately as she could without using her fingers. It seemed he was watching her. He gave her bits of cheese and more fruit, and she heard him give some little sound of satisfaction. She cleaned her plate with her tongue.

She would have done anything to show him how pleased she was to be with him again, and quite suddenly she remembered she had not kissed his boots, and she made up for this immediately. The smell of the clean, polished leather was delicious to her. She felt his hand on the back of her neck, and when she looked up, he fed her a handful of grapes one by one, lifting each one a little higher so that she had to rise off her heels to get it.

He tossed the last grape in the air. She darted up to catch it in her mouth and succeeded. Then overcome with shyness she bowed her head. Was he pleased? After all she’d witnessed during the day, he seemed her savior. She could have wept for happiness now that she was with him.

 

 

 

 

Lord Gregory had wanted her to dine with the slaves. He had shown her the hall. There were two long rows of Princes and Princesses, all on their knees, hands clasped behind their backs, eating with their quick little mouths from plates on a low table before them. They were bent over so that, as she passed, she saw the row of sore buttocks and felt herself shocked by the sight of so many of them. They were all alike, and yet each body was different. The Princes showed less of themselves if their legs were together, as the scrotum couldn’t be seen; but the girls could do nothing to hide their pubic lips. It had alarmed her.

But the Prince had wanted her immediately in his chamber. And now she was with him. Leon had removed the small sealing wax from her secret core of pleasure, and she felt the first stirring of desire. She did not care about the servants moving about, or the last minister waiting nearby with his petition. She kissed the Prince’s boots again.

“It’s very late,” the Prince said. “You’ve had a long rest, and I see you are much improved for it.”

Beauty waited.

“Look at me,” he said.

And when she did, she was shocked by the beauty and ferocity of his black eyes. She felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Come,” he said, rising and dismissing the minister. “Time for lessons.”

He walked fast towards his bed chamber and she followed on her hands and knees, rushing before him as he waited for her to open the door, then going in behind him.

“If only she could sleep here, live here,” she thought. And yet she was afraid as she saw him turn with his hands on his hips. She remembered the whipping last night with the strap and she shuddered.

Beside him was a high pedestal table, and he reached into a cloth-covered casket there, and took out what seemed a handful of little brass bells. “Come here, my spoilt dear,” he said softly. “Tell me, have you ever attended a Prince in his chamber, dressed him, groomed him?” he asked.

“No, my Prince,” Beauty said, and she hurried to his feet.

“Kneel up,” he said. She obeyed, hands behind her neck and then she saw the little brass bells he held and that each was fixed to a little spring clamp.

Before she could protest, he applied one very carefully to the nipple of her right breast. It was not tight enough to hurt; nevertheless it bit down on her nipple, pinching her, and causing the nipple to harden. She watched as he clamped the other to her left breast, and then without meaning to, she took a deep breath that made the bells ring ever so faintly. They were heavy. They pulled on her. And she flushed, desperately wishing to shake them loose. They weighted her breasts, made her painfully conscious of them.

But he was telling her to stand up and spread her legs. And as she obeyed she saw another pair of brass bells taken from the casket. They were as large as walnuts. And, whimpering slightly, she felt his hands between her legs as he clamped these bells to her pubic lips quickly.

It seemed she felt parts of herself of which she had been unconscious. The bells touched her thighs. They tugged on the lips and cut into the flesh tightly.

“O, come now, it isn’t so dreadful, my little maid,” he whispered, and he rewarded her with a kiss.

“If it pleases you, my Prince ...” she stammered.

“Ah, that is lovely,” he said. “And now to work, my beautiful one. And I want to see you work fast, yet gracefully. I want to see you do all things correctly, yet with some artfulness. In my closet on a hook you will see my red velvet scapular and gold girdle. Bring these things to me quickly and lay them out on the bed. You are going to dress me.”

Beauty rushed to obey.

She had the clothing down from its hooks and hastened to bring it back, moving on her knees, the clothing in her arms. She laid it out on the foot of the bed, and turned waiting.

“Now undress me,” said the Prince. “And you must learn to use your hands only when you cannot accomplish something otherwise.”

Obediently Beauty took the leather lacings of his surcoat in her teeth, pulled loose the knot and saw them open. The Prince pulled the coat over his head and gave it to her. And now as he seated himself on a stool by the fire, she went to work unfastening his many buttons. It seemed she met with one obstacle after another. She was conscious of his body, its perfume and warmth, and his strange preoccupation. Soon she had the shirt off with his help, and then she must remove his long breeches.

Now and then he would aid her, but most tasks she performed herself, taking the upper lip of his velvet-lined boots carefully in her teeth as she pulled at the heels with her hands until they slipped off easily.

It seemed a long time that she labored, learning every detail of his wear. And now she must dress him.

She placed the white silk undershirt on him with both hands as he slipped his arms into it. And though she laid the placket of buttonholes in place with her hands, she drew each button through with her mouth so that he was very pleased and commended her.

She grew tired; her breasts ached from the heavy brass bells, and she felt the weight of the others between her legs, and that maddening stroking of her thighs and the jingling sound which never quite died away. But when she was finished, and he had just pulled on his new boots to help her, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her.

“As time passes, you will learn to work faster. It will be nothing for you to dress or undress me, to perform any small task I ask of you. I shall have you sleep in my chambers, and attend to everything.”

“My Prince,” she whispered, and she pressed her breasts against him, aching for him. She kissed his boots quickly, and all she had seen during the day came back to haunt and tantalize her: Princess Lizetta’s cruel punishment, the Princes being trained, and then the one she had not seen, but never forgotten, Prince Alexi—all of this came together in her mind, stoking her passion and at the same time frightening her. O, if she could only sleep in the Prince’s quarters now. Yet when she thought of all those male slaves she had seen in the Hall ...

But the Prince, as if he sensed her mind was not as attentive to him as it should have been, began kissing her roughly.

Then he ordered her to go down on her hands and knees with her forehead pressed to the floor so that he might see her buttocks turned to him. She obeyed, the cruel little bells reminding her of all the naked parts of her.

“My Prince,” she whispered to herself. She felt some change in her heart which she did not fully understand. Yet she was afraid as always.

He ordered her to rise, and again he gathered her into his arms, and this time he said:

“Kiss me as you desire to kiss me.”

And overjoyed she kissed the cold smoothness of his forehead, kissed the dark locks of his hair, his eyelids and his long eyelashes. She kissed his cheeks, and then his open mouth. And his tongue passed into her mouth and she weakened all over so that he had to support her.

“My Prince, my Prince,” she murmured knowing that she disobeyed. “I am so afraid of all of it.”

“But why, beautiful one? Isn’t it clear to you now? Isn’t it simple?”

“O, but how long will I serve? Will this be all of my life now?”

“Listen to me.” He became grave but not angry. He held her by the shoulders, and then he looked at her swollen breasts. The little brass bells shivered as she breathed. She felt his hands between her legs, and then his fingers inside of her, stroking her in an upward motion that caused her to twist her body with the pleasure of it.