Beauty’s Kingdom (Sleeping Beauty #4)(38)
Author: Anne Rice

“I’m glad you’ve returned, Dmitri,” he said. “Now I’m told that Lexius will return soon. I am so curious to see him.”

“Is this truly so, sire?” I asked. Lexius here. Lexius coming all the way from India, from his own realm.

“A letter arrived from him late today,” said the King. “He’s on the continent. He’s not far away.”

I felt my heart beating. I wondered if the King could sense it. It seemed loud enough for all the world to hear.

“Alexi has promised to tell me what happened between Lexius and the late queen,” said Laurent. “I don’t mean to press for unpleasant stories, and I will make no judgments, of course, but I do so want to know.”

I felt the blood rush to my face, though this shouldn’t have been happening. That old tale was simple enough. It was the mysteries of— But then I didn’t let myself think on it again, only telling myself, I will soon see Lexius. Lexius has actually been lured by the new Bellavalten. What can this mean?

“Come dine with us, Dmitri,” said the King as he left the room, “whenever you like. And now, I have gifts for you.”

He snapped his fingers, and through the front door, three naked slaves were delivered by two of the predictably comely grooms in Court livery.

There stood Barbara, trembling magnificently, of course, and lovely Kiera of the blond braids who’d been provided for me in my chambers, and handsome fetching Bertram.

At once the trio fell on their knees and rushed to kiss my slippers. A delicious perfume filled the air.

“Sire, thank you,” I said at once. “I’m speechless. Truly.”

“Enjoy them, Prince,” said Laurent. “And remember, here in the village you can pack them off to the Slaves’ Hall at any time for their bath, oiling, and sleep, and send for them at your leisure. No need to service them here under your roof unless you prefer it.” His voice was easy and casual. “These grooms are two of the best, and they’ll be with you until you dismiss them. They’re artists at working slaves, putting them through their paces, if you’re of a mind to watch, and will obey your every command. And, Prince, your grooms may all wear the Court’s livery if you like, as you are a member of the Court, not the village livery.”

“Thank you, sire,” I said.

“And there’s the Place of Public Punishment right outside your door of course. Now I cannot vouch for the particular virtues of this delectable little sweetheart, Barbara, but I can assure you that Kiera and Bertram have met my most exacting standards for performance.”

Once more, we embraced and then he left me.

It seemed a great brilliant light had gone out of the little parlor once he was gone. I stood stranded on the polished floor, staring back into the past, into the dark narrow face of Lexius, into his black eyes. I smelled the hot air of another place. I heard the songs of the jungle in my ears. Saw ancient walls covered with dancing naked figures. Gods and goddesses of another land.

The grooms stood waiting and the three slaves knelt at my feet. At my mercy. Ah, such breasts, such luscious breasts, and the cock on Bertram.

“What would you like to do now, my lord?” asked Fabien.

For a long moment, I said nothing.

Then I heard myself speaking.

“Welcome to my house, lovelies. I shall take my time enjoying you one by one as suits my pace. And you, gentlemen,” I said to the grooms. “One of you is to spank Kiera and Bertram over the knee now and put them beside this little fireplace as I saw them positioned in the great castle until I send for them. The other attend on me.”

Without further explanation, I bid Barbara to rise.

Then I picked her up with both hands and pitched her over my right shoulder. I caught her ankles firmly as she cried out and I carried her up the staircase in this way until I reached the bedchamber.

I laid her down on the bed. She shivered and dared not look at me, glancing up at the polished mahogany of the ceiling of the bed and then closing her eyes. Quickly, desperately, she put her hands behind her neck.

I pushed her naked legs wide apart.

I inspected her delicate little gaping sex—the dark wrinkled pink lips peeping through the glistening black hair, and the curve of her little bottom making me think of a fruit cut in half with its core exposed—as women’s upturned privates often did—dark, mysterious, the kernel of so many secrets. I had thought of a peach last night when inspecting Rosalynd in this same way.

Barbara let out a little scream as I buried my face in her pubic hair.

I pressed my tongue into her, tasting her delicious smoking and fragrant juices. I lapped at her juices. Her hips rode up and down helplessly under me. With my mouth over her clitoris, over her gasping sex, I knew she had no control, no control whatsoever, and I stabbed at her clitoris with my tongue until she came without stinting. On and on she came, abandoned to the pleasure, helpless in the grip of it.

Delirious torture for me but that’s what I wanted.

I seated myself on the bed and brought her hips up onto my lap, again studying her sex, smoothing the hair with my hand, parting her legs and prying open the lips.

She shuddered and wept, but her hips rocked. She couldn’t control them.

I pondered the mystery of her gleaming wet sex, the mystery of these little lips and this curious opening, this secret little chamber in which pleasure raged as surely as it raged in my cock.

“You have so much to learn,” I said. “But you’re beautiful to me, precious to me, and you’re my first acquisition, my first slave, my first chosen one.”

“My lord.” She wept softly. “Deliver me to your pleasure. Only show me what it is you want of me.”

I flipped her over on her face on the coverlet.

Her skin was petal perfect and so smooth to the touch, so sweet.

Her little bottom was made up of the most shapely little mounds.

“Is there anyone there?” I called out.

“Yes, Prince,” came a voice. “Kenan, Prince, here to serve you.”

“Her little anus is too tender for my cock,” I said to Kenan. “What toys do we have under this roof, if any? What emollients?”

“Right here, Prince,” he said. He stepped to the side of the bed with a large shallow casket, holding open the lid. “These are wax, Prince, these little plugs and phalluses. The Queen designed these, and Lady Eva has them made. After you use them they will be melted down for new ones.”

“Excellent,” I said gazing over the selection. “This is exactly what I wanted.” I selected a small butt plug with a gentle head, flared at the bottom and with a place in the base to insert flowers or feathers of which the casket had a little heap. “That one and fit it with the red feathers.”

At once, Kenan prepared it for me. He held open the jar of rich rose-colored cream. Lovely scent.

I smoothed the cream over the plug and then slipping my left hand under Barbara’s tender belly, I lifted her. She moaned.

I slipped the well-lubricated butt plug into her.

She looked so fetching with the little feathers coming out of her hind end, and so helpless as she lay against the palm of my left hand.

“Now I think you’ll ride me about the room the way a certain lady did last night,” I said.

I climbed to my feet and brought her up to stand on hers, and then I lifted her and pushed her down on my hard cock.

I went weak with the shock of it, of her hot slippery sex enclosing me.

Without being told she wrapped her legs about me as Rosalynd had done and her arms too because she had to. I felt her little head tumble onto my shoulder and smelled the lovely perfume of her hair.

I walked to the window, with her firmly clasped to my cock, and looked down on the Place of Public Punishment. I saw the row of pillories where I had found her.

Then I turned and thrust into her hard and felt her bounce on me wildly with an abandon that dimmed the memory of my sweet Rosalynd.

When I spent, she went rigid, gasping, and then coming, carrying me past the peak, until I could bear it no more.

I lifted her off, and held her in my arms, a bundle of the softest warmest limbs against me.

“You are the tastiest of repasts, my sweet,” I crooned in her ear. “And just look at your shining little bottom, all white and fresh, healed from the turntable. So tender.”

“Yes, my lord,” she whispered.

I smoothed her hair back and told her to look at me. These were the eyes I’d remembered. No disappointment there. The intelligence of these eyes.

“What do you fear the most now, little partridge?” I asked.

“Whatever pleases you, my lord,” she said calmly. She didn’t smile. But I did.

“Very clever,” I said.

I turned and told the groom to lay out a paddle and strap for me.

I flung her over the side of the bed facedown and told her to spread her arms out and spread her legs wide, wide until she couldn’t spread them any further.

She obeyed until both legs were wobbling, shaking wildly. The little red feathers coming out of her anus would be easy to avoid.

I took the belt in my hands—very smooth gilded leather, and doubled on a hook, perhaps three feet wide. It wouldn’t cut her. No. And it would not bruise her easily either.

And then in a fury, I began to spank her with it, spank her hard and fast, careful not to strike the feathered butt plug, until she screamed and sought to muffle her scream in the covers.