by Anne Rice
“Yes, that’s what she said to me,” said Laurent. He was amazed. “She spoke of our destiny.”
“Yes, she did to me as well,” said Beauty.
“And that it was I all along . . .”
“And indeed it was.”
“Then we are resolved, Beauty! But are we not resolved, whether these dreams be shared imaginings or something real, aren’t we both wanting this with our full hearts?” He came towards her.
“Stay your passion awhile longer,” said Beauty. “You speak of resolve. Well, let’s use this night to resolve what small unconfessed doubts we may have about this strange future. I want to be alone now with Prince Alexi perhaps.”
He was silent.
“Who knows what I will do or say?” Beauty said tenderly, appealing to him with both hands. “There are delicate questions I would put to Prince Alexi in a whisper, if you will. And there are things I need to know about my own soul. To have been a slave in Bellavalten is one thing. To be a ruler there is another. And I would encourage you, my lord, to do as you please in the same way.”
Laurent nodded. “Brave little queen,” he whispered. “Courageous little queen.” He appeared to marvel.
“I want your blessing, my lord, as I resolve these matters in my heart. I want to be alone, completely alone, with Prince Alexi.”
There was no doubt that he had caught her full meaning. Need she resort to cruder words? She thought not.
“Laurent, in all these years,” she said coaxingly, tenderly, “you have never failed me.”
Laurent’s eyes blazed, and for one frightening moment, Beauty thought the cause was lost, utterly lost, but then the brightest smile broke out on Laurent’s face. “Beauty, you never disappoint me!” he said.
“Ah, yes, darling,” Beauty said. “And if we decide that we are not to accept this invitation, then the heated passions of this night will be forgotten.”
“I agree.”
“I love you, Laurent.”
“And I you, my precious queen, my only queen,” Laurent said. “And as always you are wiser than I.” He shook his head as if still marveling at it. “The great Titania, who appeared to me, spoke of bravery and courage and how we would both need it.”
“Did she?”
He paced the floor, making his way slowly to his favorite chair by the fire and there he sat down and put his foot on the fender. “Yes, you must be free tonight, Beauty, as free as I am. And if we rule, always as free as I am, night and day hereafter. But I think I see the need of yet another true test of my spirit before giving my full blessing to this new path.” He paused and gazed into the flames. “Yes, I see it. I think I see exactly what I must do.” He looked up at Beauty with a boyish innocence that made her marvel. “Memory can often deceive.”
“Yes, it can,” Beauty said. “We must use this night well, my lord. Both of us.”
I’d been writing at my table for over an hour—confiding to the parchment my private thoughts on how the old ways of Queen Eleanor might indeed be improved should King Laurent and Queen Beauty consult me on such a thing. The rooms provided for me in this castle were large and elegant, and so it was with our entire party.
I had remained dressed in the same green Venetian silk gown I’d worn for the earlier conference, but I had let my hair down free over my shoulders. And I was ready at any moment to be summoned for further questions or observations.
Severin, stripped naked once more, was asleep in my bed—a rare privilege which I thought he deserved after the arduous journey. The night before our arrival in the kingdom, we’d stayed in rather luxurious quarters at an old inn on the border of King Laurent’s kingdom, and I’d had more than two hours to play with Severin and correct and punish all faults I’d observed in him during our traveling.
Tristan had brought Blanche with him, and last night he’d begged me to discipline Blanche for him, as he was tired and anxious about his meeting with Laurent and Beauty. “After all,” he’d said. “How do I know what the King feels at this juncture about my having once coupled with his queen?”
I had no such worries, but had been glad of the opportunity to have Blanche to myself, and she’d received at my hands blows as harsh as those rained down upon Severin. I wondered if Tristan was more at ease this evening as the King and Queen did seem favorably disposed to accept Bellavalten. What was happening between him and Blanche just now?
But more important, what was happening with our gracious hosts?
We could be certain of nothing until they gave us their decision in the morning. But I was hopeful, beyond hopeful, and the future of Bellavalten blazed before me with uncommon brightness. King Laurent was far more handsome even than anyone had ever described him. Words could not do justice to the vitality of his face, or his deep yet lyrical voice, and the way he smiled naturally when he spoke, and seemed to delight in each exchange as if he were unspoiled and eager for it. As for the Queen, she appeared as a girl, as if the fairies had gifted her with eternal youth and sweetness. Yet there were depths to the Queen, lovely depths reflected not only in her fathomless eyes but in her quiet and strong demeanor.
I sat back annoyed. These voluminous sleeves were getting in my way as I wrote, as they always did, and I was tempted to strip off the gown and continue writing in my chemise. But before I could make up my mind there came a soft knock at the door.
I answered at once.
Captain Gordon stood there, and I could see he was anxious.
“Lady Eva,” he said. “You must dress and go at once to the King in Lady Elvera’s quarters. I’ll show you the way. Lady Eva, much hangs on this meeting.”
“Well, I am dressed, Captain, but allow me to pin up my hair . . .”
“Oh, no, my lady. Let me suggest that for this you leave it down,” he said now taking my measure. “And your slippers, yes, they have raised heels, don’t they? I think that is nearly perfect.”
“And what concern is all this of yours?” I asked. Captain Gordon had perfect manners. I’d never submitted myself or my costume to him for inspection.
“My lady,” he went on. “Did you bring with you certain . . . certain instruments. . . .” He gestured to the distant bed where Severin lay sleeping as deeply as ever.
“What do you mean—for discipline? Yes, I have my paddles and straps, some potions. You know me and my potions.”
“Oh, yes, the potions,” he said. “I doubt that our gracious king and queen have ever heard of your potions. Allow me to gather up these things and bring them along with us.”
I gestured to the casket on the nearby sideboard. It was open. A gilded paddle and a long folded gilded leather strap lay inside, with covered jars and a neat stack of linen handkerchiefs.
He inspected the contents, closed the casket, and lifted it, gesturing for me to go before him.
“You look beautiful tonight, Lady Eva,” he said as we hurried along the passage. “Forgive me for presuming to compliment you, but it’s true.”
“Men are fools for small changes,” I said. “My hair is down, that is all.”
“No, my lady, that is not all. You shone brightly before the King, and the Queen was also delighted with you.” He said all this while looking straight ahead as we moved down the long shadowy corridor.
A torch in a sconce at the far end appeared to be our destination.
“Well, Captain, my personal gifts are not so very important right now, are they?”
“Much more important than you imagine,” he said, glancing at me, and then ahead again. “And your lavish dress of silk and brocade is most becoming. And your heels make a nice crisp sound on the stone flooring.”
“Whatever are you talking about, Captain?” I asked. “I must confess I always feel smart when I wear these gold-heeled slippers.”
We had reached a pair of double doors and the torch that hung beside them.
Without waiting for me to answer he opened the door and led the way into a vast bedchamber.
Several iron candelabra along the walls gave a soft pleasing light to the room, and there was a healthy little fire going in the great fireplace.
We stood now in a space that was like a parlor, but I could see dimly the great bed beyond and the figure of a naked man kneeling before it, with his back to me. The man appeared young and powerfully built with a mane of thick wavy brown hair. And immediately I felt a stab of desire between my legs as I looked at his naked backside. It was tightly muscled yet pleasingly curved. But this was no young boy.
Lady Elvera stood primly to one side of the naked man, and when she saw me she came forward to meet me anxiously.
“Lady Eva, you must punish the King,” she said in a low commanding voice. “It is his wish, and if you fail in this, there may be no new destiny for Bellavalten.”
I almost laughed. So you two have failed at it, I thought, but I didn’t speak the words.
“Of course,” I said. “Captain, put my casket of implements on that small table there by the fire, and both of you be gone from here now.”
Lady Elvera drew herself up as if she were insulted. “You remember that this is your lord, the King!” she declared.
“Yes, Lady Eva, please,” said the Captain softly. “This is the King.”
“And you have disappointed him, have you not?” I said. “Now go, both of you. You who dare to refuse a king’s command. I’ll send for you when and if I have any need of you.”
The Captain at once nodded and moved to the door. Lady Elvera appeared outraged. “Take care, Lady Eva,” she whispered under her breath as she stormed past. “This is the King who has all power in his hands.”
The Captain hesitated as she went out past him. “Lady Eva,” he said in a low voice. “He asks that he be thoroughly mastered.”
Then he disappeared and the doors were shut.
I quickly threw the bolt. “Idiots,” I whispered.
I moved forward slowly on the great Indian carpet before the fireplace, closer to the kneeling figure which had not moved all this while.
The King. Yes, the King. The warmth between my legs was excruciating. I felt the juices against my inner thighs. I knew I might lose control of that rising, rolling pleasure now and again and again as I proceeded. But I struggled to hold it back, to put my eyes on what lay before me and not let my own passion overcome me.
He knelt still as if he had heard none of this annoying nonsense. His legs were parted, and I could see he’d been beaten not only on his strong tight bottom, but on his well-muscled thighs and calves. His skin appeared golden in the firelight. Smooth. Flawless. His shoulders were large, and the muscles of his back were rather irresistible, as irresistible as the exquisitely curved bottom. I wanted to take hold of his bottom in both hands.
I could see they had delivered a few blows there. But the flesh was for my purposes fresh and virginal, the flesh of a man, not a boy, a man and a king. I could scarcely contain myself.
I’d spanked enough bad boys of twenty and twenty-five and so forth and so on, children still as they groped for manhood. I’d never had a true man before, an older man, a man much older than me, a man who would be filled with inevitable pride and dignity.
My nipples were hardening beneath my gown. I let a deep sigh pass through my lips.
I turned to the casket, opened it, and took out the golden paddle. This one had been made especially for me, with a long handle that felt good to my small fingers, and the thin gilded wood had been well polished by Severin’s bottom.
It was a superb instrument for stinging and humiliating.
I drew up beside the kneeling figure. He bowed his head and started to turn away from me. His cock was immense and it was hard, wondrously hard, and gleaming in the half-light.
“Oh, no, you must not do that, my lord,” I said, reaching for his chin with my left hand, and gradually turning his face back towards me. “No, you must never turn away from me without my permission. Do you hear? I don’t mean for you to speak, I mean for you to nod only. The speaking will come later.”
He nodded. His cock jumped. I could all but feel its pain, its hunger.
The scent coming up from his skin was delicious, and it had been so well oiled that it glistened beautifully in the light of the fire. Such powerful arms, such broad shoulders. And every inch of him was polished as if he were made of bronze.
“Now look down as you know you should,” I said. “Always keep your eyes down unless I say you might raise them.” But I turned his face full towards me. And I could see the tears now clearly, sparkling in his dark lashes, and on his skin. He was trembling.
“You are ready for this, aren’t you?” I said the words with low fervor. “You need this so very much, and it’s been a long time, has it not, since anyone took command of your desires.”
Again, he nodded. But he couldn’t keep his eyes from moving over me feverishly before he looked down again contritely.
I grabbed a handful of his silky hair.
“Well, tell me what you saw,” I said, “since you could not quite command your impudent gaze, and be very careful that you say nothing to displease me.”
“A mistress of great beauty,” he said softly.
“And was not Lady Elvera a mistress of great beauty years ago when she whipped you daily?”
“Yes, madam, she was,” he replied, eyes down as before. “And she is beautiful now, undeniably, but she is frightened of me.”
Perfect answer. His tone was very reverential and polite.
“Well, I am not frightened of you at all. I’m in love with you. Now stand up quickly.”
He did as I commanded. Oh, he was surely the most splendid male human being I’d ever beheld, bar none. His shadowy chest and belly were tight and firm, and the cock, though not monstrously long, no, a comfortable size, was exceptionally thick, rising out of its nest of moist dark hair as if a sculptor had made it for the gods, or for me, little Eva, in this moment.
I stood on tiptoe to kiss his face. I kissed his wet cheeks. Ah, this was paradise! I had wanted to do this, so wanted to do it the first time I’d ever seen him. I kissed his eyelids now, felt his eyes moving beneath his lids, beneath my lips, felt his eyelashes against me. I covered him in kisses, sealing my lips to the hard bone of his jaw, to his cheekbones, to his forehead. Rough the shadow of his beard, deliciously rough though it had been shaven close. My left hand played with his hair, smoothing it back, stroking the skin. Dark hair is so soft, always so soft, so much finer than light hair.
I heard him sigh under my kisses, my fingers caressing him. I gathered up his hair in my hand and tugged at it.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” I said. “You’ve given the order but you’re afraid.”
“Yes, madam.”
“And well you should be,” I said softly, lovingly. I turned his face to me and kissed him full on the mouth, my left hand tightening on the back of his neck, breathing into his mouth, stabbing my tongue into his mouth. As I drew back I saw his cock jump again as if it had claimed his soul for its own.
“Your cock knows what you need, doesn’t it?” I breathed into his ear. “Now quickly, put your hands on the back of your neck and keep them there, and spread your legs wide.”
I stood to one side, my left hand on his right shoulder.
As he obeyed I slipped the loop on the paddle around my right wrist, and felt of his scrotum with my right hand, cupping my hand under it as best I could, and weighi
ng it slowly, then letting it go. With my left hand I lifted his chin. I gave his cock a fierce slap that startled him. He was so ready. I slapped it again, hard, and again and again.
He winced, the muscles of his torso tightening, but he didn’t make a sound, and those tears slipped down his face. There was dark hair on his chest, lovely dark hair, curling around his nipples. I hadn’t seen it clearly at first in these shadows. But now that I did see it, I loved it. I stroked it, played with it, played with the thin little curls around his nipples.
I slapped his cock right and left and then slapped his face hard.
He was shocked but his cock was harder than ever, dancing superbly.
“You’re mine,” I said, “and there is no one to interfere, you understand?”
“Yes, madam.”
“Now turn around, and get down on all fours in front of the fire, and hurry. I want to see your face clearly by that light as I punish you.”
He obeyed at once.
“And your lips are sealed now. Sealed.”
He nodded.
“Your rebellious heart drove them wild in the old days,” I said. “I’ve heard plenty enough about it. But you won’t rebel against me. You won’t dare.”
Again, he nodded.
I knelt up beside him. I had his handsome bottom to my right and now at last I kneaded those exquisite fleshly cheeks, felt just how tight they were and how soft and hard at the same time, such a sublime mixture of strength and vulnerability.
I slipped the handle of the paddle into my hand.
And lifting his chin with my left hand, I rained down on him the strongest spanking blows I could deliver. I let loose with all my strength, paddling him again and again with the full force of my arm. At once he struggled to be quiet, helpless little gasps escaping his lips, and as I continued to spank him as hard as I could and as fast as I could, he shifted, struggled, tightened, and finally shuddered all over in his struggle to remain still.
On and on I went with it, giving full vent to my strength, my teeth clenched, but my eyes remained fixed on his face, on his knotted brows and the wet, squinting eyes, my hand keeping his chin elevated mercilessly.