BEAUTY'S RELEASE
A.N. ROQUELAURE
an erotic nov el of discipline, lov e and surrender, for the enjoyment of men and women
The Sequel to The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty and Beauty's Punishment
BEAUTY'S RELEASE
A Futura Book
Copyright © 1985 by A. N. Roquelaure
First published in the United States by E. P. Dutton, New York
First published in Great Britain in 1988 by Futura Publications, a Div ision of Macdonald & Co (Publishers) Ltd London & Sydney
Reprinted 1988
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any remblance to real persons, liv ing or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights rerv ed.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retriev al system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwi circulated in any form of binding or cov er other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being impod on the subquent purchar.
ISBN 0 7088 3663 1
Reproduced, printed and bound in Great Britain by Hazell Watson & Viney Limited Member of BPCC plc Aylesbury Bucks Futura Publications
A Div ision of Macdonald & Co (Publishers) Ltd Greater London Hou Hampstead Road London NW1 7QX
A member of Maxwell Pergamon Publishing Corporation plc
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE: THE STORY THUS FAR
LAURENT: CAPTIVES AT SEA
LAURENT: MEMORIES OF THE CASTLE AND THE VILLAGE
BEAUTY: THROUGH THE CITY AND INTO THE PALACE
BEAUTY: EX AMINATION IN THE GARDEN
BEAUTY: MYSTERIOUS MASTER
BEAUTY: THE RITES OF PURIFICATION
BEAUTY: THE FIRST TEST OF OBEDIENCE
thetruthLAURENT: FOR THE LOVE OF THE MASTER
BEAUTY: THE WATCHER
LAURENT: A LESSON IN SUBMISSION
centellaBEAUTY: MYSTERIOUS CUSTOMS
LAURENT: THE GARDEN OF MALE DELIGHTS
LAURENT: THE GREAT ROYAL PRESENCE
LAURENT: THE ROYAL BEDCHAMBER
LAURENT: MORE SECRET LESSONS
BEAUTY: INTO THE ARMS OF FATE
LAURENT: DECISION FOR LEX IUS
BEAUTY: REVELATIONS AT SEA
LAURENT: JUDGMENT OF THE QUEEN
LAURENT: FIRST DAY AMONG THE PONIES
BEAUTY: COURTLY LIFE IN ALL ITS GLORY
LAURENT: LIFE AMONG THE PONIES
MOMENT OF TRUTH
THE STORY THUS FAR
In
THE CLAIMING OF SLEEPING BEAUTY
AFTER HER century-long slumber, the Sleeping Beauty opened her eyes at the kiss of the Prince to find her garments stripped away and her heart as well as her body under the rule of her deliv erer. At once, Beauty was claimed as the Prince's naked pleasure slav e to be taken to his Kingdom.
With the grateful connt of her parents, and dazed with desire for the Prince, Beauty was then brought to the Court of Queen Eleanor, the Prince's mother, to rv e as one of hundreds of naked Princes and Princess, all playthings of the
Court until such time as they would be rewarded and nt home to their Kingdoms.
Dazzled by the rigors of the Training Hail, the Hall of Punishments, the ordeal of the Bridle Path, and her own mounting passion to plea, Beauty remained the undisputed fav orite of the Prince and the delight of her sometime Mistress, the
lov ely young Lady Juliana.
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Yet she could not ignore her cret and forbidden infatuation with the Queen's exquisite slav e, Prince Alexi, and finally the disobedient slav e, Prince Tristan.
After glimpsing Prince Tristan among the disgraced of the castle, Beauty, in a moment of emingly inexplicable rebellion, brought upon herlf the v ery same punishment destined for Tristan: to be nt away from the v oluptuous Court to the degradation of harsh labor in the nearby v illage.古代文学考研
In
BEAUTY'S PUNISHMENT
Sold on the v illage auction block at dawn, Tristan soon found himlf tethered and harnesd to the carriage of a handsome young Master, Nicolas, the Queen's Chronicler. And Beauty, put to work in Mistress Lockley's Inn, became the plaything of the Captain of the Guard, the Inn's chief lodger.
But within days of their paration and sale, Beauty and Tristan were both duced by the iron discipline of the v illage. The sweet terrors of the Place of Public Punishment, the Punishment Shop, the Farm and the Stable, the Soldiers' Night at the inn enflamed them as well as frightening them, ca
using them to forget their former lv es utterly.
Ev en the harsh judgment of the runaway slav e, Prince Laurent, his body bound to a Punishment Cross for exhibit, only rv ed to tantalize them.
And, as Beauty gloried in chastiments at last equal to her spirit, Tristan became hopelessly enamored of his new Master.
Yet no sooner had the pair met and confided their shameless happiness to each other than a band of powerful enemy soldiers attacked the v illage, kidnapping Beauty and Tristan along with other choice slav es, including Prince Laurent, to be taken by a to the land of a new Master, the Sultan.
Within hours of the attack, the stolen Princes and Princess learned that they would not be ransomed. By agreement between their sov ereigns, they had been condemned to rv e in the Sultan's palace until such time as they would be safely returned to their Queen for further judgment.
Kept in long, rectangular golden cages in the hold of the Sultan's ship, the slav es accepted their new destiny.
As our story continues, it is night on the quiet v esl and the long v oyage is nearing its clo.
And Prince Laurent is alone with his thoughts about his
BEAUTY'S RELEASE
LAURENT: CAPTIVES AT SEA
NIGHTTIME.
But something had changed. As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew we were clo to land. Ev en in the shadowy silence of the cabin, I could smell the liv ing things of the land.
And so the journey is coming to an end, I thought. And we will finally know what awaits us in this new captiv ity in which we are destined to be ev en lower, and more abject, than before.
I was as reliev ed as I was frightened, as curious as I was filled with dread.
And by the light of the one night lantern, I saw Tristan lying awake, his face ten as he peered into the darkness. He too knew that the v oyage was almost ended.
The naked Princess still slept, howev er, looking like exotic beasts in their golden cages. The piqu
ant little Beauty was a yellow flame in the gloom, Rosalynd's curly black hair draped her white back to the curv e of her plump little buttocks. And abov e, the long, delicate-boned Elena lay on her back, her straight brown hair combed out ov er her pillow.
Lov ely flesh, the three, our tender fellow prisoners: Beauty's rounded little arms and legs begging to be pinched as she lay snuggled in her sheets; Elena's head thrown back in the total abandon of sleep, her long slender legs wide apart, one knee against the bars of the cage; Rosalynd turned on her side as I looked at her, her large breasts falling gently forward, nipples darkly pink and erect.
And to my far right the black-haired Dmitri, v ying with the blond Tristan in muscular beauty, Dmitri's face oddly cold in slumber, though by day he was often the kindest and most accepting of us all. We Princes, caged as curely as the women, probably looked no more human, no less exotic.
And each of us wore the stiff little cov ering of gold mesh between our legs, forbidding us the slightest examination of our own hungry organs.
We had come to know each other v ery well during the long nights at a when our guards were not near enough to hear our whispers. And in our quiet hours of thinking and dreaming, perhaps we had come to better know ourlv es.
"Do you feel it, Laurent?" Tristan whispered. "We are near to the shore."
Tristan was the anxious one, the one who griev ed for his lost Master, Nicolas, yet watched ev erything around him. "Yes," I answered under my breath, with a little glance at him. Flash of his blue eye. "It can't be long."
"I "
"Yes?" I said again. "What is there to hope for, Tristan?"
"... that they don't parate us."
I didn't answer. I lay back and clod my eyes. What did it matter to talk about it when soon all things would be rev ealed? And we could do nothing to alter them.
"Whatev er happens," I said dreamily, "I'm glad the v oyage is ended. I'm glad we'll soon to be put to some u again."
After the initial tests of our passion, we had not been ud again by our captors. And for a fortnight we had been tortured by our own desires, the boyish attendants only laughing gently at us and quickl
y binding our hands when we dared to touch the delicate wedge-shaped casings of mesh that imprisoned our priv ates.
We had all suffered equally, it emed, with nothing to distract us in the hold of the ship but the sight of one another's nakedness.
And I couldn't help but wonder if the young caretakers, so thoughtful in ev ery other regard, realized how relentlessly we had been schooled in the appetites of the flesh, how our Masters and Mistress in the Queen's Court had taught us to crav e ev en the crack of the strap to allev iate the fire within us.
Not a half day of the old rv itude had pasd without thorough u of our bodies, and ev en the most obedient of us had receiv ed constant chastiment. And tho nt down from the castle to the penance of the v illage had known little rest either.
But tho were different worlds, as Tristan and I had often agreed during our whispered nighttime conv ersations. In both the v illage and the castle, we had been expected to speak, if only to say, "Yes, My Lord," or, "Yes, My Lady." And we had been giv en express commands and nt now and then to do errands unaccompanied. Tristan had ev en conv erd at length with his cherished master,
Nicolas.
But we had been warned before we ev er left the Queen's domain that the rv ants of the Sultan would treat us as if we were mute animals. Ev en if we could understand their strange foreign tongue, they would nev er speak to us. And in the Sultan's land any lowly pleasure slav e who attempted speech would merit immediate and v ere punishment.
The warnings had been borne out. All during the v oyage, we had been petted, stroked, pinched, and guided about in tender and condescending silence.
When, out of desperation and boredom, Princess Elena had spoken aloud, begging to be let out of the cage, she had been quickly gagged, her ankles and wrists bound against the small of her back, her undulating body suspended on a chain from the cabin ceiling. And there she remained, the attendants scowling at her in shock and outrage, until she had giv en up her v ain and muffled protests.
And how kindly and carefully she had been taken down afterwards. Her silent lips had been kisd, her hurting wrists and ankles oiled until the red marks of the leather cuffs were gone from them.
anyone of usThe young silk-robed boys had ev en brushed her sleek brown hair and massaged her buttocks and back with their strong fingers, as if such irascible little beasts as we must be soothed in this manner. Of cour, they had stopped soon enough when they realized the soft shadow of brown curly hair between Elena's legs was moist, and that she could not help but mov e her hips against the silk of the grooming mattress, so excited was she by their touch.
With little scolding gestures and shakes of the head, they had made her kneel up, holding her wrists again as they fitted her little v agina with its inflexible metal cov ering, the chains coming round her thighs and quickly clasped tight. Then she had been put in her cage, arms and legs tied to the bars with thick satin ribbons.
Yet this display of passion had not angered them. On the contrary, they had stroked her wet x before cov ering it, smiling at her as if to approv e her heat, her need. Yet all the moaning in the world had not brought mercy from them.
And the rest of us had only watched in lustful silence, our own starv ed organs pulsing v ainly. I wanted to climb into her cage and tear off the little shield of gold mesh and stab my cock in the wet little nest made for it. I wanted to open her mouth with my tongue. l wanted to squeeze her heav y br
easts in my hands, suckle the small coral-colored nipples, and e her flushed red with throbbing pleasure as I rode her to the finish. But the were but painful dreams. Elena and I could only look at each other, as I hoped in silence that sooner or later we might be allowed the ecstasy of each other's arms. The dainty little Beauty was also most intriguing, and the buxom Rosalynd with her big mournful eyes absolutely luscious, but it was Elena who was full of clev erness and dark disdain for what had befallen us. During our whispered talks, she laughed at our fate, tossing her heav y brown hair ov er her shoulder as she spoke.
"Who has ev er had three such marv elous choices, Laurent?" she asked. "The Sultan's palace, the v illage, the castle. I tell you, in any one I can find delights to suit me."
"But, darling, you don't know what it will be like in the Sultan's palace," I said. "The Queen had hundreds of naked slav es. In the v illage there were hundreds at labor. What if the Sultan has ev en more than that--slav es from all the realms of the East and the West, so many slav es he can u them for footstools?"
"Do you think he does?" she asked excitedly. Her smile became charmingly insolent. Such wet lips and exquisite teeth. "Then we must find some way to distinguish ourlv es, Laurent." She leaned he
r chin on her hand. "I don't want to be just one of a thousand suffering little Princes and Princess. We must e that the Sultan knows who we are." "Dangerous thoughts, my lov e," I said, "when we can neither speak nor be spoken to, when we are pampered and punished as simple little beasts."
"We'll find a way, Laurent," she said, with a mischiev ous wink. "Nothing ev er frightened you before, did it? You ran away just to e what it would be like to be captured, didn't you?"
"You're too quick-witted, Elena," I said. "What makes you think I didn't run in fear?"
"I know you didn't. No one ev er ran away from the Queen's castle in fear. It's always done in the spirit of adv enture. I did it mylf, you e. That is why I was ntenced to the v illage."
"And was it worthwhile, my dear?" I asked. Oh, if only I could kiss her, make her pour her high spirits into my mouth, pinch her little nipples. It was a great cruelty that I'd nev er ev en been near her during our days in the castle.
"Yes, it was worth it," she said thoughtfully. She had been in the v illage a year when the raid happened, a female farm
slav e of the Lord Mayor, working in his country gardens, arching out weeds in the grass with her t
eeth on her hands and knees, the gardener a stout and v ere man, nev er without a strap in his hand.
"But I was ready for something new," she said, turning ov er on her back, letting her legs go apart as she always did. I couldn't stop staring at the thick brown hair of her x under the wov en gold shield. "And then the Sultan's soldiers came as if I had summoned them with my imagination. Remember, Laurent, we hav e to do something to distinguish ourlv es."
I laughed to mylf. I liked her spirit.
But then I liked all of them: Tristan, a beguiling mixture of strength and need, who bore his suffering in silence; and Dmitri and Rosalynd, both contrite and dedicated to pleasing, as if they had been born slav es instead of royalty.
But Dmitri could not control his agitation or his lust, could not hold still for punishment or u, though his mind was filled with nothing but high thoughts of lov e and submission. He had spent his short v illage ntence pilloried in the Place of Public Punishment, awaiting his whippings on the Public Turntable. And Rosalynd too knew no mblance of control unless shackled tightly. Both had hoped the v illage would purge their fears, allow them to rv e with the fines they admired in others.
As for Beauty, well, next to Elena she was the most enchanting, the most unusual slav e. Cold she emed, yet undeniably sweet, thoughtful and rebellious. Now and then through the dark nights at a I saw her staring at me through the bars of her cage with a puzzling expression on her strong little face, her lips spreading easily in a smile when I acknowledged her.
When Tristan wept, she would say softly in his defen:
"He lov ed his Master." And she would shrug as if she found it sad but incomprehensible.
"And you lov ed no one?" I had asked her one night. "No, not really," she said. "Only other slav es now And there came that prov ocativ e look that made my cock ri at once. There was something sav age in her, something untouched, for all her eming fragility.
英语四级总分多少But now and then she emed to brood on her resistance. "What would it mean to lov e them?" she asked once, almost as if talking to herlf. "What would it mean to yield the heart completely? The punishments, I lov e. But to lov e one of the Masters " She looked afraid suddenly.
"It troubles you," I said sympathetically. The nights at a worked on all of us. The isolation worked on all of us.
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"Yes. I long for something I hav e not had," she whispered. "I deny it, but I long for it. Maybe it is only that I hav en't found the proper Master
"The Crown Prince, it was he who brought you to the Kingdom. Surely you found him a truly magnificent Master."
"No, not at all," she said dismissiv ely. "I can barely remember him. He did not interest me, you e. What would happen if I were mastered by someone who interested me?" And her eyes took on a strange glitter, as if eing for the first time a whole new realm of possibility.
"I can't tell you," I had said, feeling suddenly at a loss. Up until that moment I was sure that I had lov ed my Mistress, Lady Elv era. But now I wasn't entirely certain. Maybe Beauty spoke of a deeper, finer lov e than I had ev er known either.
The fact was, Beauty interested me. She who lay beyond my grasp upon her silken bed, her naked limbs as perfect as a sculpture in the mi-dark, her eyes full of half-rev ealed crets.
tmoYet all of us, despite our differences, our talk of lov e, were true slav es. That was certain.
We had been opened up and inalterably changed by our rv itude. No matter what our fears and co
nflicts, we were not the blushing, awestruck beings we had once been. We swam, each at his or her own pace, in the dazzling current of erotic torment.
And as I lay thinking, I sought to understand the important differences between the castle life and the v illage life, and to guess what this new captiv ity in the Sultanate promid us.
LAURENT: MEMORIES OF THE CASTLE AND THE VILLAGE
I HAD SERVED well for a year in the castle, property of the strict Lady Elv era, who had had me whipped each morning as
a matter of cour, while she took her breakfast. She was a proud and quiet rav en-haired woman with slate-gray eyes, who spent her hours at delicate embroidery. I had kisd her slippers afterwards in thanks for the whipping, hopeful for the smallest crum
b of prai--that I had taken the blows well or that she found me handsome still. Seldom did she speak a word. Seldom did she look up from her needle.
In the afternoons, she took her work to the gardens, and there I coupled with Princess for her amument. I had first to catch my pretty prey, which meant a hard cha through the flower beds, a
nd then the blushing little Princess must be carried back and laid at My Lady's feet for inspection, after which my real performance commenced and must be carried through perfectly.
Of cour, I had lov ed the moments--pumping my heat into the shy and quiv ering body beneath me, ev en the most
friv olous Princess shaken by the cha and the capture, and both of us burning under My Lady's steady gaze as she
nev ertheless went on with her wing.
Pity I had nev er cov ered Beauty during this time. Beauty had remained the Crown Prince's fav orite until she fell from grace and was nt down to the v illage. Only the Lady Juliana was allowed to share her. But I had glimpd her on the Bridle Path and longed to hav e her gasping under me. How finely tuned a slav e she had been ev en in the first few days, her form as she marched beside Lady Juliana's hor quite impeccable. Her hair was golden as wheat as it hung down beside her heart-shaped face; her blue eyes flashed with burnt pride and undisguid passion. Ev en the great Queen was jealous of her.
But, looking back on all of it now, I did not for a moment doubt Beauty, when she said she had not lov ed tho who
claimed her affections. I could hav e en, had I looked, that her heart wore no chains then.
But what had been the particular quality of my life in the halls of the castle? My heart did wear chains. But what had been the esnce of my bondage?
I was a Prince, though bound to rv e--a high-born being temporarily depriv ed of his priv ileges and made to undergo unique and difficult trials of the body and the soul. Yes, that was the nature of the humiliation: that I should be priv ileged again after it was ov er, that I was the equal of tho who enjoyed my nakedness and reprimanded me v erely for the slightest show of will or pride.
suppoIt was nev er so clear to me as when Princes from other lands came to v isit and to marv el at this custom of keeping royal pleasure slav es. How it had flayed me to be prented to the guests.
"But how do you make them rv e?" they would ask, half astonished, half enchanted. You nev er knew whether they yearned to rv e or command. Do all beings hav e both inclinations at war within them?
The inev itable answer to their timid questions was a mere demonstration of our fine training; that we must kneel before them, offering our naked organs for their examination, our upturned backsides to be whipped.
"It is a game of pleasure," My Lady would say matter-of-factly. "And this one, Laurent, a beautifully mannered Prince, amus me in particular. He will one day rule a rich realm." She would pinch my nipples slowly, then lift my cock and balls in her open hand to display them to the amazed guest.
"But still, why does he not struggle, resist?" the v isitor might ask, possibly masking his deeper feelings.
"Think on it," My Lady would say. "He is quite well stripped of the accoutrements that would make him a man in the outside world, only the better to expo the fleshly accoutrements that make him a man for my rv ice. Imagine yourlf as naked, as defenless, as thoroughly subjugated. You might rv e, too, rather than risk a gamut of ev en more ignominious corrections."
What newcomer had not asked for his own slav e before nightfall?
Red-faced and trembling, I had crawled to obey many an order giv en in an unfamiliar and unpractic
ed v oice. And the were Lords I should some day receiv e in my own Court. Would we remember the moments? Would anyone dare to mention them?
And so it was with all the naked slav e Princes and Princess of the castle. Nothing but the highest quality for this utter debament.
"I think Laurent will rv e another three years at least," Lady Elv era would say airily. How remote she was, how eternally distracted. "But then the Queen makes the decisions. I shall weep when he goes. I think perhaps it is his size that most entices me. He is taller than the others, bigger-boned, yet his face is noble, don't you think?"
She would snap her fingers for me to come near, and then run her thumb down my cheek. "And the organ," she might say, "it is extremely thick but not ov erly long. That is important. How the little Princess squirm under him. I simply must hav e a strong Prince. Tell me, Laurent, how might I punish you in some new fashion, something perhaps that I hav e not thought of?"
Yes, a strong Prince in temporary subjugation, a monarch's son, with all his faculties engaged, nt here to be a pupil of pleasure and pain.
But to incur the wrath of the Court and to be nt to the v illage? That was an altogether different ordeal. And one that I had barely tasted, though what I did come to know was the v ery quintesnce of it.lilo
Only two days before my capture by the Sultan's thiev es, I had run away from Lady Elv era and the castle. And I do not know why I did it.
Certainly, I adored the Lady. I did. No doubts really. I admired her imperiousness, her endless silences. She could only hav e plead me more had she whipped me herlf more often, rather than ordering it done by other Princes.
Ev en when she gav e me to the guests or the other Lords and Ladies, there was the special joy of returning to her, of being taken again into her bed, being allowed to lap at the narrow triangle of black hair between her white thighs as she sat there against the pillow, her hair down, her eyes narrow and indifferent. It had been a challenge to melt her glacial heart, to make her throw back her head and cry out in pleasure finally like the most lasciv ious little Princess in the garden.
Yet I had run away. And it had come ov er me suddenly, the impul--that I should dare to do it, just get up and go off into the forest and let them arch for me. Of cour they'd find me. I nev er doubt
ed they would. They always found the runaways.
Maybe I had liv ed too long in fear of doing it, of being captured by the soldiers and nt to labor in the v illage. It was tempting me suddenly, like the plunge from a great cliff.
And I had mastered all my other faults by this time; I had attained a rather boring perfection. I nev er shied from the strap. I had grown so to need it that my flesh quiv ered warmly at the mere sight of it. And I always caught the little Princess quickly in the garden cha, lifting them high by their wrists and carrying them back ov er my shoulder, their hot breasts thudding against my back. It had been an interesting challenge to master two and three in a single afternoon with the same stamina.
But this matter of Maybe I wanted to know my Masters and Mistress better! Becau, when I became their captured fugitiv e, I would feel their power to the marrow of my bones. I would feel all that they could make me feel, completely.
Whatev er the reason, I waited until the Lady had fallen asleep in her garden chair, and then I stood up and rushed to the garden wall and climbed ov er it. This was no little bid for attention on my part. I would make it an indisputable attempt at escape. And, without glancing back, I fled ov er the mown fields towards the forest.
Yet nev er had I felt so naked, so utterly the slav e as in tho moments when I appeared to be in rebellion.
Ev ery leaf, ev ery tall blade of grass stroked my expod flesh. A new shame astonished me as I roamed beneath the dark
