Beauty's Punishment [Beauty Trilogy 2] by A. N. Roquelaure; Anne Rice

Author:A. N. Roquelaure; Anne Rice
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Man-Woman Relationships, Sexual Fantasies, Fiction, Romance, Erotic Stories, Erotic Fiction, Sex, Erotica, General
ISBN: 9780452281431
Publisher: Plume
Published: 1984-08-14T05:00:00+00:00

CONVERSATION WITH PRINCE RICHARD

It was late afternoon. Beauty lay on the cool grass with the other slaves, stirred only now and then by the prodding stick of one of the kitchen girls, who forced her legs apart roughly. Yes, she must not press her legs together, she thought drowsily. The day's work had exhausted her. She had dropped a handful of pewter spoons and been chained upside down to the kitchen wall for an hour.

On all fours, she had carried the heavy laundry baskets on her back to the clotheslines and knelt still while the village girls, hanging up the sheets, chatted around her. She had scrubbed and cleaned and polished, and been paddled at every evidence of clumsiness or hesitation. And kneeling, she had lapped her dinner from the same big dish as the other slaves, silently thankful for the cool spring water that followed.

Now it was time to sleep, and she had been dozing, more or less, for over an hour.

But very slowly, she realized that no one was about. She was alone with the sleeping slaves, and she saw that the beautiful red-haired Prince was lying opposite her, his cheek against his hand, looking at her.

He was the one she had seen the night before kissing the soldier as he sat on the soldier's lap. He smiled now and with his right fingers blew a little kiss to Beauty.

"What did Mistress Lockley do to you this morning?" he whispered.

Beauty flushed.

He reached over and covered her hand with his. "It's all right," he whispered. "We love going to the Punishment Shop." He said. And he laughed under his breath.

"How long have you been here?" she asked. He was even more beautiful than Prince Roger. She had seen no slave at the castle who was any more aristocratic. The features of his face were strong like Tristan's features, but he had a smaller build and was more boyish.

"I was sent down from the castle a year ago. My name is Prince Richard. I was at the castle for six months until I was declared incorrigible."

"But why were you so bad?" Beauty asked. "Was it deliberate?"

"Not at all," he said. "I tried to obey, but I would panic and run into the corner. Or I simply could not perform a task for the shame and humiliation I felt. I couldn't command myself. I was passionate as you are passionate. Every paddle and cock and lovely lady's hand that touched me elicited some mortifying display of uncontrollable pleasure. But I couldn't obey. And so I was auctioned off for a full year to be tamed here."

"And now?" Beauty asked.

"I've come very far," he said. "I've been taught. And I owe it to Mistress Lockley. If it hadn't been for Mistress Lockley I don't know what would have happened to me. Mistress Lockley bound me, punished me, harnessed me, and took me through a dozen forced tasks before she expected anything of my will. Every other night I was paddled on the Public Turntable, made to run the circle of the Maypole.

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