by Anne Rice
“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.”
DUTIES IN THE PRINCES CHAMBER
THE 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.
“This is all you are to think about, this is all you are to be,” he said. “In some former life, you were many things, a lovely face, a lovely voice, an obedient daughter. You’ve shed that skin as if it were a cloak of dreams, and now you think of these portions of yourself only.” He stroked her pubic lips, he widened her vagina. And then he squeezed her breasts almost cruelly. “This is you now, all of you. And your lovely face, only because it is the lovely face of a naked and helpless slave.”
Then, as if he could not resist, he embraced her and carried her to the bed. “In a little while, I must take wine with the Court, and you will serve me there, demonstrating your obedience to everyone. But that can wait ...”
“O, yes, my Prince, if it pleases you,” she breathed the words so low he might not have heard. She was lying on the jeweled coverlet, and though her buttocks and legs were not as raw as they had been the night before, she felt the painful prickling of the jewels.
The Prince knelt over her straddling her, and then opened her mouth with his fingers, and showing her his hard penis, drove it into her mouth with a quick downward motion. She sucked on it, drew on it. Yet all she need do was lie back helpless for he made the strong thrusts himself, into her, and she closed her eyes, smelling the delicious fragrance of his pubic hair, and tasting the saltiness of his skin, the penis nudging the back of her throat again and again as it all but bruised her lips.
She was moaning in time with its movements, and when suddenly he drew himself out, she gasped, her hands up to embrace him. But he had lain down on her full length, parted her legs, and pulled away the brass bells. Her pubic lips ached as he did so.
He drove into her. She felt herself explode with pleasure, her back arched so rigidly that she lifted his weight with her. Her body was drenched in pleasure. She thrust with her hips in almost a snapping motion, and when he came at last, he gave her cruel thrusts until he lay exhausted.
It seemed she slept; she dreamed. And then she heard him say to someone standing there:
“Take her away, wash her, adorn her. And send her to me in the upstairs parlor.”
SERVING MAID
BEAUTY COULD not believe her bad luck when, entering the upstairs parlor, she saw the lovely Lady Juliana was playing chess with the Prince, and that other beautiful Ladies were seated about at various chessboards, and that there were several Lords as well, including an old man with white hair that flowed down over his shoulders.
Why did it have to be this Lady Juliana, so full of airy gestures and sunshine, her thick braids done tonight with crimson ribbon, her breasts beautifully molded by her velvet gown, and her laughter already filling the air as the Prince whispered to her some little witticism.
Beauty did not know what she felt. Was it jealousy? Was it merely the usual humiliation?
And Beauty had been adorned so cruelly by Leon, it was better to be naked.
First Leon had scrubbed away all the Prince’s fluids, then he had braided only a thick lock of Beauty’s hair on either side, pinning back these braids so that most of her hair still hung free. Then he had put little jeweled clamps on her nipples, but these were connected to each other by two strands of fine gold chain like a necklace.
The clamps hurt and the chains moved as the bells had with Beauty’s every breath. But she had been quite horrified to discover this was not all.
Leon’s quick, graceful fingers had probed her navel, then smoothed into it a paste in which he set a glittering brooch, a fine jewel surrounded by pearls. Beauty had gasped. She felt as if someone were pressing her there, trying to enter her, as if her navel had become a vagina. And the feeling continued. She could feel it now.
Then her ears must be hung with heavy jewels on tight gold clamps that stroked her neck when she moved, and her pubic lips of course could not be spared but must wear the same adornment. There were snake bracelets for her upper arms, and jeweled cuffs for her wrists, the effect to make her feel all the more exposed. Adorned and yet exposed. It was mystifying. About her neck finally a choker of jewels, and then on her left cheek a little jewel in paste like a beauty mark.
It caused her such annoyance. She wanted to wipe it away and could imagine it glittering. It seemed she could even see it out of the corner of her eye. But then she had been quite frightened when Leon tipped her head back, and put a delicate little gold ring on the side of her nostril. Its prongs pierced her though not deeply, only enough to hold it in place, but she almost cried because she wanted so to wipe it away like the jewel, indeed, to pull all these adornments loose, though Leon was complimenting her.
“Ah, when they give me something truly beautiful to work with, then I can show my skill,” he sighed. He gave her hair a brisk brushing and then said she was ready.
Now she entered this vast shadowy parlor on her hands and knees and hurried to the Prince’s side, kissing his boots immediately.
The Prince did not look up from his chessboard, and to Beauty’s scalding shame, it was the Lady Juliana who greeted her:
“Ah, but if it isn’t the darling one, and h
ow lovely she looks. Kneel up, my precious,” she said in that gay, carefree voice, tossing one of her braids back over her shoulder. She laid her hand on Beauty’s throat, examining the jewel necklace. It seemed her fingers caused a tingling through Beauty’s flesh, but she did not even try to steal a glance at the young woman’s face.
“Why am I not sitting there as she is sitting, exquisitely dressed and free and proud,” Beauty thought. “What has become of me, that I must kneel here before her and be handled as something less than human? I am a Princess!” And then she thought of all the other Princes and Princesses and felt foolish. “Do they think these thoughts?” This woman, more than any other, tormented her.
But Lady Juliana was not satisfied. “Stand up my dear so that I can have a look at you and don’t make me tell you to put your hands behind your neck and spread your legs.”
Beauty heard laughter from behind her and someone remarking to someone else that yes, the Prince’s slave was well named. And realizing suddenly that there were no other slaves in this room, Beauty felt all the more bereft.
She shut her eyes as she had before when Lady Juliana had inspected her. And she felt the Lady’s hands on her thighs and then pinching her buttocks. “O, why can she not leave me alone, doesn’t she know what I suffer?” Beauty thought, and through her narrowed eyelids she looked down to see the Lady beaming at her.
“And what does her Highness think of her?” Lady Juliana asked with genuine curiosity, glancing at the Prince who was still deep in contemplation.
“She does not approve,” the Prince murmured. “She accuses me of passion.”
Beauty tried to remain composed, standing as she was in attendance. She heard laughter and conversation about her. She heard the rumbling of the old man’s voice, and a woman say that the Prince’s girl should serve the wine, should she not, so they might all see her?