Beauty’s Punishment (Sleeping Beauty #2)(38)
Author: Anne Rice

Beauty did not know exactly why her heart was pounding.

In the same manner Mistress Lockley played with all the slaves. She fondled a little blond-haired Princess between the legs until she writhed like the white kitchen cat, and then made her open her mouth to catch the grapes that were dropped into it. Prince Roger she kissed even more lingeringly than she had Prince Richard, tugging at the dark pubic curls around his c**k and examining his balls as he blushed as deeply as Beauty.

Then the Mistress sat as if thinking. It seemed to Beauty the slaves in subtle ways tried to keep her attention. The brown-haired Princess actually bent and kissed the tip of Mistress Lockley’s shoe as it peeped from under her ruffled white petticoats.

But one of the kitchen girls was coming with a large flat bowl, which she set on the grass, and with a snap of the fingers, everyone was directed to lap the delicious red wine from it. Beauty had never tasted anything so sweet and good.

A heavy broth followed, with strongly spiced bits of tender meat.

Then the slaves gathered again and Mistress Lockley pointed to Prince Richard and to Beauty and gestured to the Inn door.

The others shot them sharp hostile glances. "But what is happening?" Beauty thought. Richard moved on hands and knees as fast as he could, it seemed, but never losing his lithesome manner while doing it. And Beauty followed, feeling awkward in comparison.

Mistress Lockley led the way up the narrow steps behind the chimney and down the corridor past the door of the Captain’s room to another bedroom.

As soon as the door closed, and Mistress Lockley lit the candles, Beauty realized it was a woman’s chamber. The paneled bed was fitted with embroidered linen and dresses hung on hooks on the wall, and there was a large mirror above the fireplace.

Richard kissed Mistress Lockley’s feet and looked up.

"Yes, you may take them off," she said, and as the Prince unlaced her boots, Mistress Lockley unlaced her own bodice and gave it to Beauty with the order to fold it neatly and put it on the table. At the sight of the loosening blouse, and the mark of the bodice lacings still pressed in the wrinkled linen, Beauty felt a tempest inside herself. Her br**sts ached as if they were still being spanked on the kitchen cutting block. On her knees, Beauty obeyed the command, her hands trembling as she folded the fabric.

When she turned back Mistress Lockley had removed her ruffled white blouse altogether. The vision of her br**sts was stunning. She untied the wooden paddle from her skirts, and then untied the skirts themselves. The Prince took the paddle and drew the skirts off her, and away from her feet. Then the petticoats came down and Beauty took them, her face beating with a strong blush again, as she glanced at the soft black curly pubic hair and the large br**sts with their dark, upturned ni**les.

Beauty folded the petticoat and laid it down, and timidly turned to look behind her. Mistress Lockley, naked as a slave, and easily as beautiful, her hair a black veil down her back, beckoned for both her slaves to come to her.

She reached for Beauty’s head and brought it towards her slowly. Beauty’s breath was hoarse and anxious. She was staring at the triangle of hair before her, the dark pink lips barely visible beneath it. She had seen hundreds of naked Princesses in all positions, yet the sight of this naked Mistress dazed her. Her face was moist all over. And of her own will she pressed her mouth to the glistening hair and the peeping lips, shrinking back as if they had been hot coals, her hands to her hot face uncertainly.

Then she put her open mouth on the sex, feeling the tight curls against her mouth, and the soft resilient lips unlike anything, it seemed, she had ever kissed before.

Miss Lockley thrust her hips forward while she lifted Beauty’s hands and guided them to her hips so that Beauty suddenly wrapped her arms around Mistress Lockley. Beauty’s br**sts pumped as if they would burst the ni**les, and her own sex convulsed feverishly. She opened her mouth wide and ran her tongue under the thick pooch of red folds, and suddenly forced her tongue between the lips, tasting the musky, salty juices. With a wrenching sigh, she hugged Mistress Lockley tightly. Vaguely she was aware that Richard had risen behind the Mistress and slipped his arms under Mistress Lockley’s arms so that he could support her. His hands were on her br**sts, pressing on the ni**les.

But Beauty lost herself in what was before her. The hot silk of the hair, the plump wet lips, the moisture oozing onto her tongue, all this stirred in her a frenzy.

And the woman’s soft sigh above, her helpless sigh, ignited some new spark in Beauty. Madly she licked and stabbed with her tongue as if she were starved for the salty delicious flesh. And hooking the round, tough little clitoris on the tip of her tongue, she sucked on it with all the pressure she could exert, the wet hair covering her own mouth and nose, drenching her in the sweet, musky scent, as she sighed even louder than the Mistress. The very littleness of it drove her on; it was unlike a cock, and yet so like a cock, this little nodule that she knew was the wellspring of her Mistress’s rapture, and bent on nothing but that rapture, she licked and sucked and stroked it with her teeth until the Mistress was spreading her legs, tilting her hips, groaning loudly. All the images of the kitchen torture flashed in Beauty’s mind – this was the one who had spanked her br**sts –  and she fed deeper and deeper, until she was almost biting the mound, slurping with her tongue, burrowing into the sex, and rocking her own hips in time with the movement. At last Mistress Lockley cried out, and her hips froze in the air, as her whole body became rigid.

"No! No more!" The Mistress almost screamed. She clutched Beauty’s head, tearing it loose gently, and she sank back into the Prince’s arms, breathing unevenly.

Beauty fell back on her heels.

She shut her eyes trying not even to hope for satisfaction, trying not to picture the dark, glistening pubis again or to think of the rich taste of it. But her tongue touched the roof of her mouth over and over as if she were still licking Mistress Lockley.

Finally Mistress Lockley stood upright and, turning, wrapped her arms around Richard. She kissed him and churned her hips as she rubbed against him.

It was painful for Beauty to watch, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the two towering figures. Richard’s red hair fell down over his forehead and his muscular arm squeezed the narrow back of the Mistress against him.

But then Mistress Lockley turned and, gathering Beauty by the hand, led her to the bed. "Get up on your knees on the bed and face the wall," she said, the color dancing in her cheeks exquisitely. "And spread those gorgeous little legs wide apart," she added. "No one should have to tell you that by now."