"Lift your knees, my precious darling," Lady Juliana said to her as they were moving slowly now. "And O, if you could only see how exquisite you are, you have done splendidly."
Beauty tossed her head. She felt the heavy braids fall against her back, and suddenly when the paddle struck her she felt herself move so languidly with it. It was as if this strange relaxation were softening her all over. Is that what they had meant when they said that the pain would soften her? Yet she feared this relaxation, this despair...was it despair? She did not know. She had no dignity in this moment. She saw herself as Lady Juliana must surely have seen her, and it seemed she almost preened as she imagined this, tossing her read again, pushing her br**sts out proudly.
"That's it, lovely, lovely," Lady Juliana called out. The other rider had disappeared.
The horse picked up its pace; the paddle struck Beauty violently again and drove her through the clustered tables as the crowd grew thicker, the castle coming closer, and suddenly they had stopped before the pavilion.
Lady Juliana turned her mount to the side, and with small prodding spanks brought Beauty beside her to attention.
Beauty did not look up but she could see the long garlands of flowers, the dim white vision of the canopy ballooning gently in the breeze, and a host of figures seated behind the festooned railing of the pavilion.
Her body seemed consumed with fire. She could not catch her breath, and then she could hear the conversation above, the Queen's pure icy voice and the others laughing. Her throat was raw, her bu**ocks pulsing with pain, and now Lady Juliana whispered:
"She's pleased with you, Beauty, now kiss my boot quickly and drop down on your knees and kiss the grass before the pavilion. Do it with spirit, my girl."
Beauty obeyed without hesitation, and as if it were water washing through her, she felt again that calm, that sense of what was it? Release? Resignation?
"Nothing can save me," she thought. All the sounds about her mingled in a din. Her bu**ocks seemed to glow with pain, and she imagined a great light emanating from them.
And then she was back on her feet, and another hard blow sent her crying into the dark cellar chamber of the castle.
Slaves everywhere were thrown over barrels, their sore bodies being washed quickly with cool water. Beauty felt it flow over her abraded flesh, and then the soft toweling.
At once, Leon had her on her feet. "You've pleased the Queen marvelously. Your form was magnificent. You were born for the Bridle Path."
"But the Prince..." Beauty whispered. And she felt dizzy, and mistakenly envisioned Prince Alexi.
"Not tonight for you, lovely one, he is quite busy with a thousand amusements. And you must be placed where you can serve and rest, as the exertion of the Bridle Path is quite enough in one night for a novice."
He unfastened her braids and brushed out her hair in ripples. She was breathing deeply and evenly now and bent her forehead against his chest.
"Was I truly graceful?"
"Pricelessly beautiful," he whispered, "and Lady Juliana is thoroughly in love with you."
But now he ordered her down on her knees and told her to follow him.
She was suddenly out in the night again, on the warm grass with the noisy crowd all about her. She saw the table legs, the gathered gowns, hands moving in the shadows. There was a shriek of laughter nearby and then she saw before her a long banquet table covered with sweets, fruit and pastries. Two Princes attended it and decorative pillars stood at both ends to which slave girls were affixed, their hands above their heads, their feet chained slightly apart at the bottom.
One of these was removed as Beauty approached and she was quickly fastened in the girl's place, standing firmly, her head and swollen bu**ocks pressed back against the pillar.
She could see the whole feast around her, even with her lids lowered, and she felt herself quite firmly bound in place, unable to move, and it did not matter. The worst was over.
Even when a passing Lord stopped to smile at her and pinch her ni**les, she did not care. She was amazed to see the little brass bells had been taken away. She was so weary she hadn't noticed.
Leon was still nearby, at her ear, and she was about to murmur some question as to how long she would be here, when quite distinctly in front of her she saw Prince Alexi.
He was as beautiful as she had remembered, his auburn brown hair curling against the hollows of his handsome face, his soft brown eyes fixed on her. His lips spread easily in a smile though he drew up to the table and gave his pitcher to be filled to one of those in attendance.
Beauty stared furtively out of the corner of her eye. She saw his thick hard sex and the lush hair around it. The vision of the Page, Felix, sucking it filled her with such sudden passion.
She must have moaned or stirred because Prince Alexi, glancing up at the distant pavilion before he bent over the table to gather some sweet, suddenly kissed her on the ear, brushing Leon aside as if he were nothing.
"You behave yourself, you wicked Prince," said Leon, but it was not playful.
"I shall see you tomorrow night, my dearest," Prince Alexi whispered with a smile. "And don't be frightened of the Queen for I shall be with you."
Beauty's mouth quivered on the verge of a cry, but he was gone, and now Leon had drawn up to her ear again, cupping his hand as he whispered: