Beauty, is one aspect of yielding and acceptance, surely. I thought only of the stable boy and pleasing him and escaping, for a little while longer, at this terrible price, the kitchen. In other words, I thought of doing precisely what was expected of me.
"Now, my stable boy grew tired of it. He ordered my back down to the grass on my hands and knees and took me deeper into the woods. I was completely unbound, yet I was under his will utterly. Now he found a tree and told me to stand up and grasp the limb over my head. I hung by the limb, my feet off the ground, as he raped me. He thrust in deep and hard and repeatedly. I thought it would never end, and my poor penis was hard as the tree itself with suffering.
"And when he was finished, the most extraordinary thing happened. I found myself kneeling at his feet, kissing his feet and more than that, I was twisting my hips, and thrusting and doing all in my power to beg him to relieve the passion between my legs, to allow me some release, for I had known absolutely none in the kitchen.
"He laughed at all this. He pulled me up, impaled me easily on his whip handle and drove me back towards the kitchen. I was weeping as uncontrollably as ever in my life.
"The vast room was almost empty. All were out tending the vegetable gardens, or in the anterooms above as the meals were being served, and only a young serving girl remained, who climbed to her feet at once when she saw us. In a moment, the stable boy was whispering to her, and as she nodded her head, and wiped her hands on her apron, he ordered me up onto one of the square tables. I was to squat again with my hands behind my head. I obeyed without even thinking. More paddling, I thought, and for the benefit of this little girl with her warm face and brown braids. She meantime drew near and looked at me with what seemed wonder. Then for her the stable boy began to torment me. He had taken a soft little broom, which was used to sweep out the inside of the oven. And with this he began to brush and stroke my penis. The more he stroked the more miserable I became, but each time it was almost too much for me he would withdraw the broom a quarter of an inch from my penis so that I struggled after it. It was more than I could bear, yet he would not allow me to move my feet, and paddled me immediately if I disobeyed him. I soon saw his game. I must thrust my hips forward as much as I could to keep my hungry penis in contact with the soft stroking bristles of the broom, and so I did, crying all the while as the girl gazed on with obvious delight. Finally, she begged to be allowed to touch me. I was so grateful for this I could not stop my sobs. The stable boy then put his broom under my chin and lifted my face. He said he wished to see me satisfy the young maid's curiosity. She had never really seen a young man spend his passion. And as he held me and scrutinized me and looked at my tear-stained face, she stroked my penis, and without pride or dignity, I felt my passion erupt into her hand, my face flushing with heat and blood as a shudder went through my loins relieving all of the days of frustration.
"I was weak when it was finished. I had no pride, nor thoughts of past and future. I made no resistance when I was manacled. I wished only that the stable boy would come again soon, and I was drowsy and afraid when all the cooks and kitchen boys returned and commenced their inevitable idle sport with me.
"The next few days were filled with the same terrible kitchen torments. I was paddled, chased, ridiculed and otherwise treated contemptuously. But I dreamed of the stable boy. Surely he would return. I don't think I even thought of her Highness. I felt only despair when I envisioned her.
"Finally one afternoon, the stable boy came in and he was finely dressed in rose-colored velvet trimmed in gold. I was aghast. He ordered me washed and scrubbed. I was too excited to