Beauty's Release - By A. N. Roquelaure & Anne Rice Page 0,93
academy for the ponies, and more races, don’t you think?”
I didn’t answer. I dreaded the races. I was a frequent winner, but it was as frightening a thing as any that I’d ever been made to do. It was performing for amusement again, instead of work. I liked hard discipline and work.
There was that knee again, against my cock.
“What do you want from me, beautiful boy?” I asked softly, using the phrase he often used for me.
“You know what I want, don’t you?” he whispered.
“No,” I said. “If I did, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“The others will make fun of me if I do it,” he said. “I’m supposed to use the ponies when I choose, you know....”
“Why don’t you suit yourself and not worry about the others?” I asked.
That was all the urging he required. He dropped down on his knees and took my cock in his mouth, and soon I was roaring towards a finish in sheer bliss. “It’s Gareth, my beautiful Gareth,” I kept thinking. Then there was no thought at all. He snuggled against me afterwards, telling me how fine I was, that he loved the taste of it, my juices. When he slipped his cock into my backside, I came close to paradise again.
And though this happened often, his delicious mouth pleasuring me, he was just as stern a Master afterwards, and I was three times over his shuddering slave, crying at his slightest word of disapproval. Now, when he was angry, I thought not only of his handsome face and pleasant voice but of the mouth sucking hard on me in the dark. I cried frantically whenever he scolded me.
Once I stumbled while pulling a handsome equipage, and when he got wind of it he had me spread out on the stable wall, and he whipped me with a broad leather strap until he wore himself out. I was shuddering in misery, not daring to rub my cock against the stones for fear I’d come. When he released me, I knelt at his feet kissing his coarse rawhide boots over and over again.
“Don’t be clumsy like that again, Laurent,” he said. “It discredits me when you are clumsy.” I was crying with gratitude when he let me kiss his hands.
When spring came round again, I could scarcely believe nine months had passed. Tristan and I lay together in the recreation yard, confessing our fears to each other.
“Nicolas is going to the Queen,” Tristan said. “He is asking to purchase me when the year is out. But the Queen is not pleased with his ardor. What will we do when these days come to an end?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll be sold back to the stables,” I said. “We’re good steeds.”
But it was like all our conversations of this sort—pure speculation. All we knew was that the Queen would consider our cases at the end of the year.
And when I saw the Captain of the Guard, when he came into the stables and sent for me and let me talk to him, I told him that Tristan was desperate to return to Nicolas, and I was just as desperate to remain where I was.
After the life of a pony, how could I bear anything else?
He listened to me with obvious compassion.
“You’re a credit to the stables, both of you,” he said. “You earn your feed twice and three times over.”
“More than that,” I thought, but I didn’t say so.
“The Queen may grant Nicolas’s wish, and as for you, it would be the natural thing for you to be given over for another year. The Queen’s more than pleased as it is to hear that you’ve both quieted down and behaved yourselves. And she has plenty of new playthings to content her at the castle.”
“Is Lexius still with her?” I asked.
“Yes, she’s frightfully hard on him, but it is what he needs,” said the Captain. “And then there is a lovely young Prince who wandered into this Land and threw himself upon her mercy. Said he was told of the Queen’s customs by Princess Beauty. Imagine that. He begged not to be sent away.”
“Ah, Beauty.” I felt a sudden stab of pain. I don’t think a day had passed that I’d not thought of her in her velvet gown, a flower held in a gloved hand, its petals looking all the more delicate for the fabric that pinched it. Gone forever into propriety, poor darling Beauty....
“Princess Beauty to you, Laurent,” the Captain corrected me.