"Go tell your father you will be my bride, that we will leave now for my Kingdom, and then come back to me!" At once, she went to obey, and when she came back she closed the door after her and stared at me uncertainly, shrinking back against the wood.
"Bolt the door," I said. "We will ride out in a matter of moments, and I will save the having of you for my royal bed, but I want to prepare you for the journey properly. Do as I say."
She slid the bolt into place. She was a picture of loveliness as she approached. I reached into my pocket and drew out a pair of the gifts I had brought with me from Queen Eleanor, two small gold clamps. Beauty lifted the back of her hand to her lips. Charming, but futile. I smiled.
"Don’t tell me I’m going to have to train you all over again," I said, winking at her, and kissing her quickly. I slipped my hand into her tight bodice and clamped the nipple firmly. Then I clamped the other. A shudder passed up through her torso to her open mouth. Such gorgeous distress.
I took another pair of clamps from my pocket. "Spread your legs," I said. I knelt and gathered up her skirt and reached up until I felt the wet naked little sex. How hungry it was, how ready. O, she was such a splendid darling, and one glimpse of her radiant face peering down at me, and I should go mad. I applied the clamps carefully to the moist secret lips.
"Laurent," she whispered. "You are merciless." She was already in appropriate misery, half afraid, half dazed. I could scarcely resist her.
Now I drew out a small vial of amber-colored liquid, one of Queen Eleanor’s most important gifts. I opened the vial and savored the spicy aroma. But I must use this sparingly. After all, my tender little darling was not a strong, muscular pony used to such things.
"What is it?"
"Shh!" I touched her lips. "Don’t tempt me to whip you until I have you in my bedchamber and can do it properly. Be quiet." I tipped the vial and poured a bit of its contents on my gloved finger, and then I raised Beauty’s skirt again and smoothed the fluid over her little clitoris, her trembling lips.
"Ah, Laurent, it’s–" She flew into my arms and I held her. How she was suffering, trying not to squeeze her legs together, shivering.
"Yes, " I said, holding her. This was pure sweetness. "And it will itch in that manner all the way to my castle, at which time I shall lick it off, every last droplet of it, and take you as you deserve."
She moaned, her hips twisting in spite of herself as the itching potion did its work, her br**sts rubbing against my chest as if I could somehow save her, her mouth on mine.
"Laurent, I can’t bear it," she said, breathing the words through her kisses. "Laurent, I am dying for you. Don’t make me suffer very long, please, Laurent, you mustn’t–"
"Shhh, it’s out of your hands," I said lovingly. Once again, I reached into my pockets, and I drew out a delicate little harness with a phallus attached. She put her hands to her lips as I unfolded the phallus, her eyebrows coming together in a panic-stricken little frown. But she didn’t resist as I knelt to slip the phallus into her little bottom, to secure it well in her anus, and strap the harness around her thighs and waist. Of course, I could have put the itching fluid an the phallus but that would have been too harsh. And this was only the beginning, wasn’t it? Time enough for that.
"Come darling, let’s go." I said as I rose. She was radiant and utterly compliant. I gathered her up and carried her out of the parlor and down the stairs to the courtyard, where her horse was waiting with its ornate sidesaddle already in place. But I didn’t place her on her horse.
I seated her on my mount before me, and, as we rode off into the forest, I slipped my hand up under her skirts and touched the straps of the little harness and the wet, tender little part of her that was mine now, all mine, clamped and itching with desire and ready for me, and I knew I possessed a slave whom no Queen or Lord or Lady or Captain of the Guard could ever take from me again.
This was the real world then–Beauty and I free to have each other and all the others gone. Just the two of us in my bedchamber, where I should envelop her naked soul in rituals and ordeals beyond our past experiences, our dreams. No one to save her from me. No one to save me from her. My slave, my poor helpless slave…
I stopped suddenly. The blow to the chest again. I knew I had gone pale.
"What’s wrong, Laurent!" she said in alarm. She held tight to me.
"Panic," I whispered.
"No!" she gasped.
"O, don’t worry, my tender sweetheart. I shall beat you soundly enough when we reach home, and adore doing it. I’ll make you forget the Captain of the Guard and the Crown Prince and everyone who’s ever had you, used you, satisfied you. But it’s just … just that I’m going to grow to love you so." I looked at her upturned face, her savage eyes, her little body writhing beneath the rich gown.
"Yes, I know," she said in a small, shuddering voice. And she sealed her mouth to mine. And in a soft, heated whisper, she said slowly, thoughtfully. "I am yours, Laurent. And yet I don’t even know the meaning of the words yet. Teach me the meaning! It is only the beginning. It shall be the worst and most hopeless captivity of all."
If I didn’t stop kissing her, we wouldn’t make it to the castle. And the woods were so nice and dark … and she was suffering, my precious one….
"And we shall live happily ever after," I said through my kisses, "as the fairy tales say."
"Yes, happily ever after," she answered, "and a good deal happier, I think, than anyone else could ever guess."