“Now, you see there the posts of the foot of the bed,” the Prince said to the girl. Beauty of course knew that the bed had high posts which held a coffered ceiling over it.
“Tie your mistress to those posts with her hands and legs quite wide apart so that as I lie down I can look up at her,” said the Prince. “Tie her with these satin bands so her skin won’t be injured, but tie her very firmly for she must sleep in this position and her weight must not pull her loose.”
Beauty was stunned.
She was in a delirium as she was lifted to stand at the foot of the bed. She obeyed pliantly as the girl told her to spread her legs. She felt the satin go tight around her right ankle and then it firmly bound her left ankle, and then the girl, standing before her on the bed, bound the Princess’s hands high on either side of her.
She was spread-eagled, looking down at the bed, and with terror, she realized that the Prince must see how she suffered; he must see the shame of the dampness between her legs, those fluids she could neither check or conceal, and, turning her face into her arm, she whimpered softly.
But the worst of it was that he did not mean to take her. He had tied her here out of reach of himself so that as he slept she must look down on him.
Now the girl was dismissed, secretly depositing a little kiss on Beauty’s thigh before she left. And Beauty, crying softly, realized she was alone with the Prince. She did not dare to look at him.
“My beautiful obedient one,” he sighed.
And to her horror she felt, as he drew near, the hard handle of that dreadful wooden paddle nudging her moist and secret place, so cruelly exposed by her open legs.
She struggled to pretend this was not happening. But she could feel that revealing fluid, and she knew the Prince knew of her tormenting pleasure.
“I have taught you much, and I am so very pleased with you,” he said, “and so now you know a new suffering, a new sacrifice for you Lord and master. I could soothe the burning craving between your legs but I shall let you suffer it and know the meaning of it, and that only your Prince can give you that relief that you long for.”
She couldn’t control her moan, even though she muffled it against her arm. She feared that any moment she might move her hips in helpless, humiliating entreaty.
He had snuffed the candles.
The room was dark.
Beneath her feet she felt the mattress give with his weight.
She leaned her head against her arm and felt secure in the satin bonds as she let herself hang there. But this torment, this torment… and there was nothing she could do to alleviate it.
