But his voice came low, crooning in her ear.
"And I've learned a very important lesson myself, that pain softens you, makes it easier for you. You are infinitely more malleable from the spanking given you in the Inn than you were before it."
She wanted to shake her head, but she didn't dare. The thought of all those who had seen her spanked tormented her. She had been turned so those at the windows could see her bu**ocks and between her legs, and the soldiers could see her face, and it had been excruciating. Well, it would only be her Prince now. If only she could tell him, for him anything, but those others were such punishment...
She knew this was wrong. It was not what he wanted her to think, what he was trying to teach her. But now she couldn't think.
He was at her side. He held her chin in his left hand, and he had told her to fold her arms behind her back, which was difficult for her. It was worse than clasping her hands behind her neck. This position arched her body, forced her br**sts out, and made her br**sts and face feel painfully naked. She moaned slightly as he lifted her hair and folded the great mane of it over her right shoulder, away from him.
It covered her arm, but he pushed it away from her ni**les and pinched both of them hard between his finger and thumb, lifting her br**sts and letting them fall naturally as he did so.
Her face was positively smarting. But she knew what was to come would be worse.
"Spread your legs ever so slightly. You must be firmly planted on the ground," he said, "so that you can withstand the blows of the paddle."
She wanted to cry out, and through her tightly pressed lips her sobs sounded very loud to her.
"Beauty, Beauty," he crooned. "Do you want to please me?"
"Yes, my Prince," she cried, her lip trembling uncontrollably.
"Then why are you crying so when you haven't even felt the paddle yet? And your bu**ocks are only a little sore. Why, the Innkeeper's daughter had little strength."
She cried almost bitterly, as if to say in her soft wordless way that it was all-true but it was so difficult.
It was an explosion of stinging pain on the hot surface of her flesh, and the second spank came much more swiftly than she had thought possible and then there was the third and the fourth, and in spite of herself she was crying aloud.
He stopped and gently kissed her all over her face. "Beauty, Beauty," he said. "Now, I give you permission to speak...tell what it is you would have me know..."
"I want to please you, my Prince," she struggled, "but it hurts so, and I've tried so hard to please you."
"But, my darling, you please me by bearing this pain. I explained to you earlier that punishment would not always be for a transgression. Sometimes it would be for my pleasure only."
"Yes, my Prince," she cried.
"I shall tell you a little secret about the pain. You are as a tight bowstring. And the pain loosens you, makes you soft as I want you to be. It is worth a thousand little orders and scoldings, and you must not think of resisting it. Do you know what I am saying? You must give yourself over to it. With each crack of the paddle you must think of the next and the next and that it is you Prince doing it to you, giving you this pain."
"Yes, my Prince," she said softly.
He lifted her chin again without further ado and spanked her hard again and again on the bu**ocks. She felt her bu**ocks growing hotter and hotter with pain, and the cracks of the paddle sounded loud and somehow shattering to her, as if the sound itself were as dreadful as the pain. She could not understand it.
When he stopped again, she was breathless and almost frantic in her tears, as if the torrent of blows had so humiliated her it was far worse than even a greater pain would have been.
But the Prince folded her in his arms. And feeling his rough clothing against her, and his hard naked chest, and the strength of his shoulders, she felt such a soothing pleasure that her sobs grew soft and open mouthed and languid against him.
His rough breeches were against her sex, and she found herself pressing against him only to have him guide her gently back as if silently reproving her.
"Kiss me," he said, and such a shock of pleasure went through her at the closing of his open mouth over hers that she was almost unable to stand, letting her weight fall against him.
He turned her toward the bed.
"That's enough for tonight," he said softly. "We have a hard journey tomorrow."
And he told her to lie down.
It occurred to her suddenly that he was not going to take her. She heard him moving to the door, and this pleasure between her legs became suddenly an agony. But all she could do was cry softly into the pillow. She tried to keep her sex from touching the sheets because she feared that if it did she could not resist some undulating movement. And she felt sure he was watching her. Of course he'd meant her to feel pleasure. But without his permission?
She lay rigid, afraid, crying.