Beauty s Punishment - By Anne Rice Page 0,65

buttocks. "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 cock 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.

He climbed into bed and sat against the pillows, with one knee up, his left arm resting on it. He reached over and filled the two goblets and then he extended one to me.

I was baffled. Did he mean for me to drink from it as he would? I took it at once and sat back holding it. I was looking unabashedly at him now; he had not commanded me not to. And his lean hard chest with its curling bits of white hair around the nipples and down the center to his belly caught the light of the candle beautifully. His cock was not as hard as mine yet. I wanted to remedy that.

"You may drink the wine as I do," he said, as if he'd read my thoughts. And, quite astonished, I drank as a man for the first time in half a year, feeling a little awkward about it. I gulped too much and had to stop. But it was well-aged burgundy and without equal in my memory.

"Tristan," he said softly.

I looked him straight in the eye and slowly lowered the cup.

"You're to speak to me now," he said, "to answer me."

More amazement. "Yes, Master," I said softly.

"Did you hate me last night when I had you whipped on the turntable?" he asked.

I was shocked.

He took another drink of the wine but without taking his eyes off me. He looked ominous suddenly, though I didn't know why.

"No, Master," I whispered.

"Louder," he said. "I can't hear you."

"No, Master," I answered. I flushed as deeply as I ever had. It wasn't really necessary to recall the turntable. I'd never truly stopped thinking about it.

" 'Sir' will do now and then as well as 'Master,' " he said. "I like both. Did you hate Julia when she stretched your anus with the horsetail phallus?"

"No, Sir," I said, the blush getting hotter.

"Did you hate me when I tethered you with the ponies and made you pull the coach to the manor house? I don't mean today after you had been so well worked and tempered. I mean yesterday when you were staring with such horror at the harnesses."

"No, Sir," I protested.

"Then what did