was very pleased to see this.
She turned and silently made her way back to the bedroom door when she realized that someone was near her.
She was so frightened that she almost screamed, a mistake which would surely have destroyed her. But she covered her mouth, and lifting her eyes, she saw in the distant shadows the figure of Lord Gregory watching her. This was the gray-haired Lord who had wanted so to discipline her properly, who had called her spoilt.
Yet he did not move. He stood still watching her.
And when she had stopped trembling, she rushed as quickly as she could back to the Prince’s bed, and slipped under the coverlet beside him.
He had never awakened.
She lay in the dark waiting for Lord Gregory to come but he did not, and she soon realized he would not dream of waking the Prince, and then she was half dozing.
She was thinking of Prince Alexi in a thousand ways, of the redness of his sore flesh after the paddle, of his beautiful brown eyes, and his strong, somewhat compact body. She was thinking of his glossy hair against her, the secret kiss he gave her thighs, and how, after this terrible humiliation, he had given her that smile which was so serene and affectionate.
The torment between her legs was no worse than before, and no better. She dared not touch it with her fingers, lest she be discovered, and it was too shameful to think of such things, and she was sure the Prince would never allow it.
THE SLAVES’ HALL
I T WAS late afternoon when Beauty awoke. She realized that the Prince and Lord Gregory were in an argument. Immediately, she was afraid, but as she lay still she perceived that Lord Gregory had obviously not told the Prince what he had seen. Surely her punishment would be terrible if he had. Rather Lord Gregory was arguing only that Beauty must be taken to the Slaves’ Hall and properly groomed.
“Your Highness, you are enamored of her, of course,” Lord Gregory said, “but you remember, surely, your own censure of other Lords, especially your cousin, Lord Stefan, on account of his excessive love for his slave ...”
“It is not excessive love,” the Prince answered sharply, but then he stopped as if Lord Gregory had hit upon the truth. “Maybe you should take her to the Slaves’ Hall,” he murmured, “though only for the day.”
As soon as Lord Gregory had taken her out of the room, he unfastened the paddle attached to his belt and gave her several cruel spanks as she hurried on her hands and knees before him.
“Keep your eyes down and your head down,” he said coldly, “and lift your knees gracefully. Your back is to be a straight line at all times, and you are not to look to either side, is this clear to you?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Beauty answered timidly. She could see a great expanse of stone before her, and though the paddle smacks had not been very hard, she found she resented them enormously. They had not come from the Prince. And it was just coming to her that now she was in Lord Gregory’s power. Perhaps she’d fancied he couldn’t strike her, wouldn’t be allowed to, but that was obviously not the case, and she realized he might tell the Prince she had disobeyed when she had not, and she might not be allowed to speak for herself.
“Move faster,” he told her. “You are always to take a rapid pace showing your eagerness to please your Lords and Ladies,” he said, and again there came one of those sharp degrading little spanks that seemed suddenly quite worse than harder ones.
They had come to a narrow doorway and Beauty perceived that a long curving ramp lay before her. It was quite clever as she could not have gone down a staircase on her hands and knees, but this she could follow, and she did with Lord Gregory’s pointed leather boots right beside her.
Several times he availed himself of the paddle, so that by the time they reached the door of a vast room on the lower floor, her buttocks were burning a little.
But what concerned her much
She turned and silently made her way back to the bedroom door when she realized that someone was near her.
She was so frightened that she almost screamed, a mistake which would surely have destroyed her. But she covered her mouth, and lifting her eyes, she saw in the distant shadows the figure of Lord Gregory watching her. This was the gray-haired Lord who had wanted so to discipline her properly, who had called her spoilt.
Yet he did not move. He stood still watching her.
And when she had stopped trembling, she rushed as quickly as she could back to the Prince’s bed, and slipped under the coverlet beside him.
He had never awakened.
She lay in the dark waiting for Lord Gregory to come but he did not, and she soon realized he would not dream of waking the Prince, and then she was half dozing.
She was thinking of Prince Alexi in a thousand ways, of the redness of his sore flesh after the paddle, of his beautiful brown eyes, and his strong, somewhat compact body. She was thinking of his glossy hair against her, the secret kiss he gave her thighs, and how, after this terrible humiliation, he had given her that smile which was so serene and affectionate.
The torment between her legs was no worse than before, and no better. She dared not touch it with her fingers, lest she be discovered, and it was too shameful to think of such things, and she was sure the Prince would never allow it.
THE SLAVES’ HALL
I T WAS late afternoon when Beauty awoke. She realized that the Prince and Lord Gregory were in an argument. Immediately, she was afraid, but as she lay still she perceived that Lord Gregory had obviously not told the Prince what he had seen. Surely her punishment would be terrible if he had. Rather Lord Gregory was arguing only that Beauty must be taken to the Slaves’ Hall and properly groomed.
“Your Highness, you are enamored of her, of course,” Lord Gregory said, “but you remember, surely, your own censure of other Lords, especially your cousin, Lord Stefan, on account of his excessive love for his slave ...”
“It is not excessive love,” the Prince answered sharply, but then he stopped as if Lord Gregory had hit upon the truth. “Maybe you should take her to the Slaves’ Hall,” he murmured, “though only for the day.”
As soon as Lord Gregory had taken her out of the room, he unfastened the paddle attached to his belt and gave her several cruel spanks as she hurried on her hands and knees before him.
“Keep your eyes down and your head down,” he said coldly, “and lift your knees gracefully. Your back is to be a straight line at all times, and you are not to look to either side, is this clear to you?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Beauty answered timidly. She could see a great expanse of stone before her, and though the paddle smacks had not been very hard, she found she resented them enormously. They had not come from the Prince. And it was just coming to her that now she was in Lord Gregory’s power. Perhaps she’d fancied he couldn’t strike her, wouldn’t be allowed to, but that was obviously not the case, and she realized he might tell the Prince she had disobeyed when she had not, and she might not be allowed to speak for herself.
“Move faster,” he told her. “You are always to take a rapid pace showing your eagerness to please your Lords and Ladies,” he said, and again there came one of those sharp degrading little spanks that seemed suddenly quite worse than harder ones.
They had come to a narrow doorway and Beauty perceived that a long curving ramp lay before her. It was quite clever as she could not have gone down a staircase on her hands and knees, but this she could follow, and she did with Lord Gregory’s pointed leather boots right beside her.
Several times he availed himself of the paddle, so that by the time they reached the door of a vast room on the lower floor, her buttocks were burning a little.
But what concerned her much
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