Beauty’s Punishment (Sleeping Beauty #2)(39)
Author: Anne Rice

Beauty obeyed at once, crawling to the far side against the wall, her back to the room, as she had been told. The passion in her was so furious she couldn’t quiet her hips. Again, in a flash she saw the tortures of the kitchen, that smiling face and the little white tongue of the spanking belt coming down on her nipple.

"O, wicked love," she thought, "that has so many unnamed components."

But Mistress Lockley was lying down on the bed beneath Beauty’s spread legs and looking up at her.

Her arms wound round Beauty’s thighs and pulled them lower, as Beauty straddled her.

Beauty peered down into the Mistress’s eyes as her legs stretched wider and wider apart until her sex was just above Mistress Lockley’s face, and suddenly she feared the red mouth below her as much as she had feared the mouth of the white cat in the kitchen. The eyes, so large and glassy, were like the eyes of the cat.

"It will devour me," she thought, "it will eat me alive!" But her sex opened in silent ravenous convulsions.

From behind, Richard’s hands caught Beauty, caught her sore br**sts just as he had caught Mistress Lockley’s br**sts, and at the same time Beauty felt a jolt to the frame of the bed and saw Mistress Lockley stiffen and shut her eyes.

Richard had entered Mistress Lockley below, standing beside the bed between her spread legs, and Beauty shook with the rapid jamming rhythm.

But immediately the hot delicate tongue had licked up at Beauty. It lapped in long slow strokes at her pubic lips and she gasped at the incredible sweetness of the shrill sensation.

She jumped, afraid of the wet mouth even as she craved it. But her clitoris had been caught in Mistress Lockley’s teeth and Mistress Lockley nibbled at it, sucked at it, licked at it with a fierceness that astonished Beauty. The tongue stabbed into her, filling her, and the teeth gnawed at her, and Richard caught up all of Beauty’s weight in his slender, powerful arms, while his thrusts shook the bed in the never-faltering rhythm. "O, she knows how to do it!" Beauty thought. But she lost the thread of her thoughts, her breaths coming long and low, Richard’s gentle hands massaging her hurt br**sts, the face beneath her pressed into her vagina, the tongue flushing her, the lips clamping onto her whole nether mouth and drawing on it in an orgy of sucking that sent the orgasm searing through her.

It broke in bright waves, causing her almost to collapse, as the strong driving thrusts of the Prince came faster and faster and Mistress Lockley moaned against Beauty and the Prince gave the same deep guttural cry behind her.

Beauty hung exhausted in his arms.

Released, she fell languidly to the side, and for a long time lay with her limbs nestled beside Mistress Lock-ley. Richard, too, was tumbled in the bed, and Beauty lay in a half-sleep, hearing the dim sounds from below, the voices in the drinking room, the occasional shouts from the square, the sounds of night descending on the village.

When she opened her eyes, Richard was on his knees and just tying the Mistress’s apron strings. The Mistress brushed her long dark hair.

She snapped her fingers for Beauty to rise, and Beauty tumbled out of the bed and quickly straightened the coverlet.

She turned and looked up at the Mistress. Richard was already kneeling before the snow-white apron. And Beauty took her place at his side, and the Mistress smiled down at them.

She studied both her slaves. Then she reached down and clasped Beauty’s sex. She kept her warm hand there until Beauty’s pubic lips enlarged ever so slightly, and the shrill throb commenced again. With the other hand the Mistress wakened the Prince’s cock, pinching the tip, batting gently, playfully at the balls, and whispering, "Come now, young man, no time for resting."

He gave a faint moan, but the c**k was obedient. The warm fingers tested the moisture between Beauty’s engorging lips. "See, this good little girl is already prepared for service."

She lifted their chins now and smiled down at both of them. Beauty felt dizzy and weak and totally without resistance. She stared up into the lovely dark eyes meekly.

"And in the morning, she will paddle me on the counter," Beauty thought, "as she does the others." And her weakness only increased. Richard’s brief story melted over her with lurid vividness: the Punishment Shop, the Public Turntable. The village blazed in her mind and she felt stricken and bedazzled and unable to think whether she was good or bad or should be either.

"Stand up," came the soft low voice, "and march fast. It’s already dark and you haven’t been bathed yet."

Beauty rose and so did the Prince, and she gave a little cry when she felt the wooden paddle smack her bu**ocks. "Knees high," came the gentle whisper. "Young man" – another smack – "did you hear me?"

They were paddled fiercely down the steps, Beauty shaken and red-faced and shivering with the passion that was kindled anew, and driven into the yard, there to be bathed in the wooden tubs by the kitchen girls, who went to work with their rough brushes and towels.

SECRETS IN THE INNER CHAMBER

Tristan:

The master’s bedroom was immaculate as I entered, just as it had been the night before, the green satin-lined bed gleaming in the candlelight. And when I saw my Master seated at the desk, pen in hand, I went as quietly as I could across the polished oak floor and kissed his boots, not in the old decorous way, but with total affection.

I feared he would stop me as I licked at his ankles and even dared to kiss the smooth leather over his calves, but he did not. He did not even seem to notice me.

My c**k was hurting. The little Princess in the Public Tent had been only the first course. And the mere act of entering this room redoubled the hunger. But as before, I didn’t dare to beg with any vulgar, pleading movement. I would not have displeased the Master for anything.

I stole a glance upwards at his intent face, his white hair shimmering around it. And he turned, looking down at me, and timidly I looked away, though it took all my control to do it.

"You’re well bathed?" he asked.

I nodded and kissed his boots again.

"Get on the bed," he said, "and sit to the foot of the bed in the corner nearest the wall."

I was in ecstasy. I tried to compose myself, the satin coverlet like ice soothing my welts. The two days of constant licking caused even the flinching of a muscle to have endless reverberations.

My Master was getting undressed, I knew, but I didn’t dare to look. Then he snuffed all the candles except those by the head of the bed, where an open wine bottle sat beside two jewel-encrusted goblets.

He must be the richest man in the village, I thought, to have so much light. And I felt a slave’s pure pride in having a rich Master. Any thought of the Prince I had been in my own land was simply gone from me.