"Taxing Beauty"

by Sally

She never thought of her family as poor. They always had all they needed. They ate from the garden plot, played music every sundown, broke bread with friends, and had family scattered throughout the countryside. No, she never felt poor, not until the prince and his men rode through town.

Then, for the way her parents scrapped and bowed, she quickly learned that there were forced above her that made her humble. This made her angry at the prince, angry at her parents, angry at fate, but also strangely excited. Though it shamed her, she longed to be the one whose very presence created such subservience in grown adults.

She pushed this inking of a thought deep inside her, for later reflection. One day, kneaded the daily bread with her mother, she asked, "Mother, why do you and Papa look so nervous when the prince rides through town?"

Her mother stopped and stared at her daughter thoughtfully, "Daughter, I've longed waited for you to ask such an astute question of me. Daughter, the king and queen are noble and good. They've given us everything we need and have allowed peace to reign for decades. The prince, on the other hand, is a different story. From the time he was born, the nobles and country folk alike knew he would be trouble.

"He was born spitting at authority and an voracious lust for every young woman he laid his beady, green eyes on. Do you ever wonder, Daughter, why I insist you stay inside on his town 'visits'?"

Suddenly, so much was clearer to the young woman. She remembered the squeals of horror of Ms. Newcomb, as the prince once lowered a long arm from his halted steed, to pinched the tight young buttocks of her daughter. She remembered thinking that the prince was teasing a playmate, and that the woman was overreacting.

"Why do you keep me inside if the prince has an eye for young women? Don't you and Father want me to marry a wealthy man? Maybe he would fall in love with me," she mused aloud.

Her daydream quickly soured as her mother slapped her across the face! This was the first time she'd ever been struck by her mother, besides of course for the occasional spanking when she'd been naughty, "Silence! Silence that notion! Daughter, I never want you to think of that villain as a man capable of love!"

The young woman sobbed softly, cupping the wounded cheek in her hand, as she lowered her eyes to her mother's angry visage.

"Mother! I don't understand! Why did you hit me?"

"I'm sorry my child. I truly am, but the thought of you with that madman made me lose myself. Daughter, hush now. Hush," she comforted her daughter now, but remained distracted, "Allow me to continue with all that I know now, for you deserve to know it too. You are growing up and I know you will be ready for a suitor soon. Let me tell you all I know about that monster, and then you will know why it is that you must vanquish all thoughts of royalty," she spat that last word like a curse and sat her daughter down at the well-worn kitchen table of hard oak.

"Daughter, these are more than rumors, and you must believe them with every ounce of your being, for this is a cautionary tale a few sad regretful girls never received.

"Have you ever wondered why we see so much of the prince, and only see the king and queen on the Crown Celebration? It's because they are busy with serious matters of state, and early learned that their son was worse than useless, he would be a detriment to the sovereignty of the nation. He licked his lips at dignitary's daughters, and winked lewdly at their wives. They left him to amuse himself. This was perhaps the best move they could have made politically, and the worst thing they could have done domestically.

"For, with the prince's time completely at his own disposal, his lascivious mind roamed freely across the countryside and saw all too many ways he could amuse his yearnings. When he was 16, he had chosen his first victim.

"She was 14 and by far the fairest child of the village. One day, he rode into town and descended his steed in front of the young girl's cottage and had his man tie the horse to the gate and stand sentry at the door. Hours passed, and finally the prince emerged from the cottage with the weeping young lady and screams could be heard inside from her mortified mother.

"Strong like the king, the prince easily flung the poor child over the saddle of his horse, motioned to his man to untie the horse, threw a pile of gold coins onto the feet the wailing mother, who strained against her tear-stained husband, as the prince laughed and rode quickly away, turning with a jaunty wave.

"Two weeks later, the man returned to the cottage, with the young lady seated behind him in the horse. Her hands had been tied in front of her with hemp rope and her lovely cheeks were bee-stung red, and her eyes bruised from crying. The man allowed her father to help her off the horse, and the way she fell into his arms, proved her utter exhaustion.

"This was the first 'trade' the prince was to make with a villager. The townspeople later found out that the prince threatened to levy a "virgin tax" on the family that would mean collecting everything put one penny of the family's salary, every week, ruining them and rendering them homeless. He said the only way out of the mess was to let him take their daughter's virginity himself.

"Perhaps knowing he could not get away with such a thing for long, for all young women would rush into the arms of their lovers immediately to escape such a fate, the prince 'repealed' this mandate and created others, modified according to the quarry. For example, there was the red-headed daughter tax, the talented seamstress tax, the honor student tax, the bricklayer's daughter tax, and more.

"He had the townspeople at his mercy. We never knew what strange, cruel tax he would dream up, and whose daughter would be next. We started trying to keep the births of our daughters secret, but when the prince came around, he would always demand every villager came to greet his caravan. The best we could do was to keep our daughters in the ugly rags you hate so much, and hide them indoors, at risk of imprisonment.

The young woman had been captivated by her mother's tale. She wished she could be appalled like her mother and shocked, the way her mother obviously wanted her to be, but instead she was unaccountably turned-on. Her sex felt sensitive against her rough undergarments, and she felt her blood pulse with an insistence that scared her.

By the time her mother concluded her tale, the young woman feigned lightheadedness and asked if she could lay on her cot until dinner. Her mother looked at her sympathetically, thinking she had scared the girl to the point of exhaustion. She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead and nodded her assent.

Once in her bedroom, the young woman quickly stripped off her grey tunic and buried herself under her bedclothes. Her fingers deftly found her engorged clitoris and rubbed herself to the tune of horses hooves, hemp rope encircling her lithe wrist, and cruel laughter ringing in her ears.

She put a pillow over her lips to muffle the cries of her misbegotten orgasm and immediately felt guilty. Her mother was trying to warn her for her own good, and she was sick to take pleasure out of the torment of other young women such as herself. Even worse, she couldn't help but wish she would be next.

Weeks passed and the family continued their daily routines and sang in the evenings in their happiness. However, every night, the young woman was visited by different incarnations of the abduction she guiltily wished for. She hated her nighttime longings, but it was like a serpent in her bed, hissing its presence, ordering her to do its bidding or be strangled in revenge. She imagined the prince lifting her onto his horse, riding her into the sunset to the castle. There he would take her virginity roughly, without the chance for mercy. Little did the prince know, she wouldn't have begged for mercy at all, only for more.

Finally, her fantasies followed her into the day and she couldn't be rid of them. She would be doing the washing outside and rub the stiff cloth against her wrist, imagining how the prince's rough rope would feel rubbing against her skin. She would be milking the cows and nearly knock over the stool if she heard loud hooves outside the barn.

Her mother noticed that her daughter was increasingly jumpy and distracted. She wondered if it wasn't time to finally let her daughter know the pleasure of a man. She would turn 18 in a month, and it would be time for her entry into society. This thought pleased the older woman, and she immediately set-out to make the arrangements for a grand feast in her beautiful daughter's honor.

One day, walking to market with her best friend, the girls talked of the upcoming birthday and the planned party.

"You are so lucky," her friend said sadly, "my parents did little more than pat me on the head and wish me a happy birthday last year."

"Well, last year was not your 18 ^th birthday. I am a woman now, and this may as well be a farewell party for me."

"What do you mean?" the younger girl asked.

"Well, I suppose I will be married soon, and will be made to live in my husband's village," visions of boredom and drab routine filled her eyes with tears.

"Oh, I suppose you're right! Why don't you sound more excited? I can't wait to be married!"

She thought about this question for a moment, "I guess because I always thought there would be more to life for me." She eyes trailed off to the large shadow of the castle that blocked the sun away in the distance. She sighed. Suddenly, a team of horses could be heard rounding the mountain trail.

"Run!" her companion screamed, and like lightening ran herself into the nearest hayloft. The visions of drabness were pierced by light. Her hopes, her salvation from her fate; she readied herself.

As the regaling dressed beasts came into view, and she saw the prince's dark hair contrasted with the light blue sky, she pretended to run away from the onslaught of hooves, but purposefully lost her footing in her long skirts and fell in front of the lead stallion. Cursing herself, she'd really injured herself and the red blood soaked through her thin skirt.

"Whoa! Whoa boys!" The lead rider pulled on the reigns and the action was repeated in kind by the line of riders, as they stopped right before they would trampled the poor hurt maiden.

"Girl, watch youself!" the prince cried, and looked annoyed. She saw the fabled glow of his green eyes, and felt the familiar stirrings in her groin.

"Hush, Sebastian," the lead rider chided the prince and jumped off his halted horse, "Are you alright, child? You scared us. I thought we were to have a much messier meeting just now," His kind demeanor shocked her out of her reverie. She was expecting the biting words of the prince, or the punishment of the hose whip the lead rider still held in his gloved hand.

The man followed her frightened eyes to the whip and softly chuckled, "Please don't fear me, young lady! I wouldn't whip you for falling over your petticoats. Oh, you're bleeding. Let me help you up." He put his arms underneath her shoulder blades and easily lifted her to her feet. "You must allow me to offer you a ride to your cottage. After all, it was my horse that nearly trampled you."

Her leg did hurt terribly, but when she saw the amusement in the eyes of her protector, she smiled, "Thank you, sir, but that is not necessary, for I live very close to here."

"All the more reason why it is no imposition."

"Roger, leave her. The daylight is nearly gone and we have not nearly finished our inspections."

"Why then, Sebastian, why not let this young lady's home be the first we visit. I'd not seen her before anyway. Could it be that her parents had hitherto hidden her from view? I think I would have remembered such a face."

At this, the prince produced a sinister smile, "You're absolutely right, Roger. What was I thinking. Of course we could offer the young lady a ride to her cottage. Where are my manners." The prince let his eyes traveled the length of the still supported maiden's body and she felt the electricity of his stare, everywhere it touched, "What's your name, Maiden?" The words slithered like syrup kisses in her ear.

"Julia, my lord."

"Ah, she knows who I am. A happy meeting, Julia, of that I am sure."

With that, Roger lifted her to the back of his saddle and the cadre rode on to levy a brand new tax.

"Taxing Beauty"

Chapter Two

The warm, solid flesh of the horse against her spread legs, and nobleman's strong body against her back, made the ride to her cottage the most enjoyable quarter-hour of her life. Julia entertained visions of herself a noblewoman of the castle, riding back to her humble beginning, in a rare fit of nostalgia. She would be clothed in the finest silks and satins and her men in attendance would be bearing gifts for her mother and father. Former neighbors would stop and stare, later gossiping how beautiful and regal she looked. She would charitably wave as she passed on.

They soon alighted upon her family's house, "Whoa there!" The men signaled the horses to stop and dismounted. Sir Roger grabbed her securely around the waist and swung her onto her feet, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, not at all," Julia looked into the man's laughing eyes and blushed, looking away.

"Well, then, on with it, shall we?" The prince pushed his friend forward. Sir Roger rapped loudly on the wooden door.

It opened immediately and her father looked fearfully past the well dressed man, to his blood stained daughter, "Julia!" her mother gasped, pushing past her husband. She made to grab her and usher her inside, but was subtly blocked by Sir Roger's right shoulder.

"Greetings, My Lady, Sir, may we come in? I am Sir Roger and this is, of course, Prince Sebastian," the prince nodded his head slightly. Julia's parents took an involuntary step-back, allowing the men to pass into their front room. The prince swept his eyes quickly over their meager, but immaculate belongings. Julia noted her mother's discomfort, and suddenly felt both protective and ashamed. Standing in between the two large gentleman, she saw her mother's anguish as she was blocked from tending to her daughter.

"Please have a seat," Julia's father said hospitably, gesturing to his best chair. The prince quickly sat, and left Sir Roger standing next to Julia, looking quite at ease. The prince crossed his legs grandly and motioned for Julia's father to sit across from him.

The two men thus preoccupied, Julia's mother rushed to her, "My child! What happened!"

"I'll tell you what happened. Your daughter almost caused me bodily harm by falling right in front of my cavalry. We were then kind enough to escort her home," the prince looked Julia's father in the eye during this speech,

making him squirm slightly in his chair.

"Julia! You clumsy girl!" her mother scolded nervously. "Thank you for your generosity, My Lord. I promise I will punish her this carelessness!" Her mother yanked her hair roughly, to demonstrate.

Chuckling lightly, Sir Roger turned to the women, "That is not necessary, I'm sure."

The prince added, "No, not at all. I believe it is my duty, and right, to teach her that lesson. After all, it was my life, the very security of our kingdom, that she so recklessly endangered," the prince said overdramatically. Julia would have laughed, but felt a small shiver of fear pass through her, as she began to suspect this was not a game.

"Sir, I have the utmost respect for you and your position. I would never burden you with our petty household affairs. Don't give us a second thought. You have done so much already, returning our daughter safely back to her home."

The prince rose from his seat and towered over her mother, "My Lady, this is no burden, I assure you. Furthermore, if you did indeed have respect for my position, you would not deem any of my undertakings 'petty.' Sir Roger, would you please remind these people of the Taxation Laws?"

"With pleasure, Sir," Sir Roger replied, "The Taxation Laws state, that any citizen, found in breech of a law of the land, is thereby bound by decree to submit to any and all appropriate taxation the prince shall see fit."

"Wait just there," Julia father tried to laugh casually, "I know our prince is not saying that clumsiness is a breech of a royal charter!"

"No Sir," the prince said calmly. "That would simply be cruel and unusual, wouldn't it? That would tax every living child or elderly member of the kingdom, wouldn't it? What kind of tyrant would I be if I imposed such a ridiculous decree? What you, Sir, Madame, are in most severe breech of, is my simple decree that every, EVERY, member of the household is presented onto me upon every village inspection. My men have written records of all of my visits to your village, and never, ever, has this young lady been presented. Am I not good enough to face your daughter, or are you ashamed of your own flesh and blood!"

"Your Highness, it is none of these, I'm sure!" her mother rejoined. "You see," she began, "Julia has a very delicate constitution. At every visit, My Lord, she must have been prone on her bed, resting her poor frail body. I'm afraid I've never had the heart to pull her from her gentle repose, in order to greet you, Sire. Plus," she whispered, "her condition might be contagious. The doctor was never quite sure about the origin of her distress."

"Lies! Lies! I will hear no more! Woman, do you not think I am privy to all medical records of my kingdom? Do you think I would allow some heinous contagion to leak its way into my land? What nature of idiot do you take me for? No, you have broken the law, and hidden a member of your family from my view for years and years of deception! I can only suppose you were purposefully evading paying your rightful taxes for a family of three. You have deceived this land for too long! Listen now! You have failed to pay for your daughter, or acknowledge your daughter to the court. Thereby, she has been living illegally in this kingdom and you must pay all back taxes, or have your daughter seized by the court. Roger, ask this young woman her age and calculate the amount owed immediately!"

Sir Roger spoke gently to her, and then began making quick, figures in a notebook produced from his waistcoat. Julia's father held her mother protectively, as she wiped panicked tears from her eyes. Julia looked to her mother and father, and to the prince and Sir Roger, and felt terrible! What had she done? Sir Roger whispered a figure into the prince's ear and the prince suppressed a laugh.

"Looks like you're financing the new royal stables!" He announced the price and Julia's mother nearly fainted.

"We don't have that kind of money, My Lord. Please be reasonable. We'll do whatever we can, but that figure is simply impossible," her father said.

"Sir, you leave me no choice then, but to extract your payment in another fashion. You will pay your debt to me in service instead. I have been long looking for a lady of your daughters obvious, um, grace, to attend to me in my domestic matters. It seems quite fair that the member of your family who created your debt, will be the one to pay it off. Roger, seize her immediately. I have no more time to waste here!"

Sir Roger held firmly to Julia's arms and pushed her towards the door, "Mother!" Julia gasped and her mother cried out. Julia's father stepped up to grab the prince and the prince quickly knocked him to the ground with one blow.

"Another move like that and I will seize your wife as well. You watch yourself! We will send word regarding your daughter's new whereabouts and length of sentence, by messenger in the morning. For now, I pray you keep your senses," the prince warned.

Then men exited the cottage with Julia in tow. The prince called out to his men and their horses were brought forward. Sebastian leapt onto his steed and Sir Roger quickly lifted Julia onto his. After the two were settled, the prince shouted, "Bind her wrists and hold her tight, Roger. I don't want the poor maiden to suffer another messy fall."

Sir Roger produced a length of rope from the saddlebag and before Julia could believe what was happening to her, her wrists were pulled back behind her and tied firmly with soft rope. She felt Sir Roger's large hand encircle her waist and the other grabbed the reigns. A whip cracked and the prince's horse jolted forward, the rest of the cavalry following behind. It was all happening so quickly. Julia looked behind her and saw the figure of her parents getting smaller in the distance. She cried then, mourning about the birthday party she would never have, in relief for boring husband she'd never meet, and in fear of what lay before her.

" Taxing Beauty"

by Sally J

Chapter Three

Julia had the ride of her life on Sir Roger's steed. Her head was floating somewhere around the blinding noon sun and she thought she'd swoon from the sensations. The horse galloped too swiftly for her to concentrate on anything but keeping her balance, and the once familiar countryside reseeded in a blur of memory.

She thought back to how she'd made this happen. She felt powerful and powerless at the same time. She'd actually been the catalyst in her own life. She'd been captured by the prince and escorted to the castle on the royal horses. She felt thrilled, petrified, and dizzy from her dueling emotions.

Sir Roger made her feel safe within the grasp of his strong arms, but her insides melted with the excitement of being held so tightly against his body. She'd ridden horses all her life, but never before had she been so aware of the life force energy between her legs.

The long ride was over too soon, as the battlements pierced the horizon. Her eyes opened wider as the seriousness of her journey started to hit her. She was going into her people's castle. Her father once said, "A guest of the castle for honor, or for shame, either way, it'd be the defining moment of a man's life." Does the same truth hold for a woman? If so, what kind of guest was she?

The prince signaled to two guards at the front gate. They bowed, but instead of lowering the gate, they rode around to the East Tower and stopped at a smaller gate, guarded by one guard. Her heart pounded quickly and powerfully. The prince said something jocular to the guard, made a gesture with his head to Julia, and the men laughed. Sir Roger pulled Julia down from the horse without a word and led her gently to the open doorway. She lowered her head and fought back a hot tear. The guard smiled widely at her and her sadness felt like loss, but of what, she wasn't sure.

The prince led the way through the small milling crowd inside the side courtyard. The horses were led to the stables, and just as casually, Julia was led into through a stone archway into a great hall. Her hands were still tied behind her and she really wanted Sir Roger to say something to her, to remember she was there. 'Of course he knows you're here, Silly. You've been at the end of his arm for an hour' Julia tried to summon a laugh at the thought, but it didn't soothe her. How could she be evidently there and be invisible at the same time? It didn't make sense, but here she was, a stranger among strangers, and no one gave a second glance to the bound, young woman at Sir Roger's side. Her initial shame at being seen as a common prisoner, turned to something akin to anger at not being seen at all!

Finally, the trio stopped at a doorway covered over by a thick velvet tapestry. The prince turned swiftly on his heels, as if he just realized he was being followed. "Julia, it's Julia, right?"

"Yes, My Lord," Julia said politely.

"Good. Good, she speaks! Julia, my man, Roger here, will show you to your room. Be good now, and don't touch anything?" He smiled towards her lamely bound hands and laughed. "Listen, listen. I don't want to be inhospitable, but I can't very well trust you to roam free in my home. Not until we know each other much better. That makes sense, doesn't it?"

Julia didn't know what to say. He was asking her to agree that her hands remain bound? Her shoulders ached, she longed to fix her mussed hair, her wrists felt torn by tiny splinters, and her bondage made her feel even more uncomfortable in her unusual surroundings.

"Doesn't it? Girl! Look at me damn-it!"

Julia quickly raised her head at the change in his tone, "Yes, Sir, yes it does, Sir," she instantly regretted her cowardly words.

"Yes, yes it does, Darling Girl. I knew you weren't stupid as all that. Roger, tuck the doll in, would you?" With a wave in their general direction, the prince was suddenly gone, striding up to a group of grey haired noblemen, who bowed as he approached.

"Well, then, shall we make you more comfortable?" Sir Roger pushed aside the heavy curtain with one hand, as he pulled her through the doorway with the other.

She gasped at the opulence of the first of the prince's rooms. The marble floor was interrupted over and over again by small, vibrantly colored, exotic rugs. The room seemed to stretch forever, due to the open run of several rooms separated by intricately carved arches at least 12 feet above. There were shiny, wooden desks, tables and benches. There were fat armchairs, settees, and lounges. Gloriously woven pillows were piled in several corners and niches. Large window framed the deep, green mountains to the North and East. The hills were dotted with sheep and the sky flavored with fluffy clouds. She lost herself in a visual ecstasy and starting reaching out to a vase of fragrant flowers, before she realized her grasp couldn't reach the front pocket of her apron.

Sir Roger brought the bouquet to her face and she breathed deeply and thus he saw her first true smile. "Beautiful," he said softly.

"Yes, they are! It all is." She realized too late that he eyes were focused on her face. She felt the blood work its way into her cheeks and she fidgeted nervously.

"Come, let's move into your room and let you unwind from your long journey. Shall we?" Now he let go of her arm, and made a sweeping gesture towards a darkened niche some 50 paces ahead. Julia proceeded into the darkness slowly, letting her eyes adjust. She could make out a large, four-poster bed, hung with a velvet canopy. Her eyes lingered beneath the pillows and layers of satiny bedding, as the candlelight danced shadows on the rich purples, reds and gold.

Her long look upon the sight distracted her from the large, wooden door behind another wall hanging, and she jumped at the sudden bang of iron upon iron, as the heavy door latched shut. "Here you are then. Do you like your room?" Sir Roger made an expressive glance over the small room, "The prince wouldn't expect you to share his bed quarters at first, although I'm sure you'll end up there eventually."

Sir Roger sounded distracted, as if eager to leave her and get on with his day, "Now, why don't you wash-up in the basin there and there will be someone in shortly to bring you fresh clothing and prepare you to receive the prince later this evening."

"Sir, my hands. May I have use of my hands to clean?"

"Oh, of course, yes, of course," jolted out of some reverie, he proceeded to undo the knotted rope, letting her arms fall like lead at her sides.

"Oh!" she exclaimed and felt a dizzy rush of blood coursing back to her joints and flesh.

"I'll leave you now," he said coldly and reached the large door in one stride, pulling it open with some effort. Before disappearing, he turned back to her, "Miss. Julia, it has been a pleasure. I hope we run into each other again." His eyes locked onto her a moment, as she rubbed her sore arms and wrists. "I do hope we do," he repeated, with surprising warmth, and was gone.

The door slammed into its frame and a muffled latching sound reverberated in the chamber, leaving her in a suffocating silence. Sound seemed swallowed, in fact, by the intricacy of the many tapestries, the dizzying height of the cold ceiling, and the beautiful countryside, growing dimmer behind the bars of her bare window.

Julia continued to rub her wrists idly as she proceeded to the white, porcelain basin. She gingerly washed her hands, which were filthy and raw, from the ride and the ropes. Gazing into her reflection, in the vanity's oval mirror, she was mesmerized by the sight. The rooms many shadows played with her features. She wondered at high cheekbones, seemingly set apart from soft, pink cheeks. A square, defiant jaw, betrayed by lips that trembled, and wide, grey eyes, bewildered but burning with life.

Sir Roger said that someone would be in to prepare her 'to receive the prince.' Besides the excitingly ominous nature of his words, she wondered if Sir Roger sounded jealous, or if she only wished it so.

Blinking, she broke away from the reflection of herself. She looked again at the unfamiliar room, more exotic by the flickering candlelight and profound silence. Was this how the fantasy was supposed to play out? Is this what she had wished for an imagined these past months? Is this flesh and blood prince the same that rocked her into orgasm night after night? She longed and feared to find out, as shiver of certainty told her, she wouldn't have long to find out.

"Taxing Beauty"

by Sally J

Chapter Four

Julia watched the sun set behind the green mountains, unconsciously holding onto the bars, already taking the stance of a prisoner. Just as she grew weary of waiting, she heard a key turn in the lock of the large door. Her stomach did a quick turn from fear when she spotted a large uniformed man step over the threshold. However, fear soon turned to curiosity as an old woman stumbled in followed by yet another,

taller guard.

"Hello there!" the woman gave a hearty wave to Julia and pushed past the taller man and went to embrace Julia, holding both her hands lightly. She rolled her eyes at her companions, "Highly unnecessary nonsense I say. I've always said so. Let an old woman do her job. It's a delicate job too, what I do. We don't need two stodgy, over-dressed men watching over us, do we darling?'' She led Julia over to the bed and had her sit down, "Not that any women brought here by the prince ever resists. They're too excited or scared or what have you. But no, the prince makes a big show of protecting me and wouldn't hear of - I was his nursemaid you know, practically raised the lad, he and his crib mate, Roger."

Without missing a syllable, the old woman proceeded to undress Julia, roughly pulling off her short boots and stockings. Julia tried to cover her naked legs with her hands as the guards watched with intense concentration. Julia saw one moisten his lips with a slow, red tongue.

Following the surprised girl's eyes the old woman turned to look at the men, who quickly looked away, "Oh, don't worry about them. They're ordered by law not to watch what goes on in Sebastian's private rooms. They wouldn't dare - not if they want to keep their jobs, and this is a very desirable post."

One guard looked at Julia, winked lewdly, then put his index finger to his pursed lips. In tandem, the other guard suggestively dragged his index finger across his neck. Julia got the picture, "I'm sure it is," she answered sharply.

"What? Oh yes. Paid quite handsomely I understand. But then again, we're all very well taken care of in this castle. You should see what the prince has set out for you to wear! And you - an indentured servant! Your parents - conniving tax evaders I heard. Alas we can't what lot we were born onto. My own pappy, a stable hand and my mammy, a scullery maid and look where I am! Yes, there's hope for you yet. Don't you despair."

During her speech, the woman whirled around, unlocking drawers and armoires with a jangle of keys procured from deep within her apron. She finally held up a small lace nightgown, "A might flimsy, but then again, these fine things always look too flimsy for me." Julia looked at the 'too flimsy' nightgown and felt the eyes of the guards on her hotter than before.

The old woman grabbed Julia's dress under the arms, suddenly lifting her with the force and momentum and pulled it up and over her head. Julia gasped. She was left in nothing but her worn camisole and panties. "For shame, Girl! You're much too big for these underthings. You look as if you've worn these since you were in pigtails! Well, off they go. I will dispose of them myself. You mind me now, you will not be leaving us in this condition!" With a cluck of disapproval, she pulled at the edges of the offending garments. Julia suddenly realized she would be fully naked in front of those rude men!

At this Julia resisted, pushing the woman away. She had been humiliated enough. She grabbed the covering off the bed, "How dare you!" she hollered, surprising the tall guard who had been contentedly rubbing the crotch of his uniform. The other guard was first to respond and grabbed Julia's arms, the blanket falling to the floor. "Let me go, You Brute!" Julia struggled but the guard's fingers only dug deeper into her flesh.

The interrupted guard looked disapprovingly at Julia and shook his head as he gallantly helped the old woman to her feet. She brushed herself off, disorganized for a moment, and then she laughed out loud, "What on earth came over you?? We're having a pleasant chat one minute, and the next I'm wrestling dust bunnies in the corner!"

"We weren't having a pleasant chat, you were having a pleasant chat, and I won't stand by and let you strip me naked for the entertainment of these two peeping toms!"

"Why! I see. Well, it isn't up to you, My Dear Lady, and you'll just have to get over the presence of any guards here, especially now! Plus, insulting them by implying they could care two figs for the likes of you! They can have any lady they want in the kingdom and don't need to stoop so low as the prince's slaves. Oh, shocked are you now? Well there it is, I've said it. No use being kind to a ruffian who'll only bite you in return. While here, you are nothing than a slave working off your family's debt. So if I were you, I'd behave meself and thank the poor old lady for the pretty lace nighty, and mind my p's and q's with her guardsmen."

The woman's words wounded Julia, but she continued to struggle, because she didn't know what else to do. She knew she couldn't win, but how could she just allow her body to be flaunted like this? "Now, Harry, keep a firm hold on her while I get these filthy rags off her. Thomas, be a dear and grab her leg, I don't want her getting her ideas and kicking an old lady in the nose now." Julia stopped squirming, but the guard only held her arms ever tighter behind her. The guard, that had been supporting the old woman, now moved to Julia, clenching her leg within his two, strong hands.

Julia screamed, "No! No! Let me go! Don't do this!"

"Oh, these will come right off!" Julia heard a tearing noise and watched her old underpants come apart in the woman's hands. "Ha! If you hadn't come here, Young Miss, those panties would've fallen offa you in a week's time! Oh, don't cry, hush. Don't cry now. Here you go," Julia wasn't even aware of the tears running down her cheeks. They were tears for the destruction of her childish undergarments, for her helplessness in the hands of the guards, and for being so piteously exposed in this brutal fashion. On top of all humiliations, the old lady's proffered handkerchief was but her panties' tattered remains! Seemingly innocent of the irony, the woman tenderly blotted the young woman's eyes.

"Oh, such a pretty thing. Don't you worry, your little cunny'll be covered up in bed in no time. Thomas, Harry, bring her back over to that bed now." The guard kept hold of her arms as she was lifted off her feet and carried over to the bed. The cool sheet made her bare bottom shiver, and though still very sorry for herself, she enjoyed a chill of pleasure through her naked sex.

"Thomas," the old woman thrust something into the guards hands. Julia heard the sound of clanking metal and before she saw what was coming, her mind registered alarm. She tried to crawl up the bed away from the manacles, but Harry caught her calves and Thomas snapped the heavy cuffs onto her ankles, "I didn't want to have to do this, but the prince, he said, 'she shows you any resistance, and you restrain her for her own safety'."

Julia sobbed when she saw thick bands of steel cover her pale ankles. A chain, about two feet long, connected the two cuffs. She pulled on them, hard, "Owww!"

"Don't be daft dear, of course they'll hurt if you do that! Just relax."

The old lady retrieved the blanket from the floor and covered Julia's bare legs and virgin vagina. Then, walking to her side, she lifted the threadbare camisole over her chest and up and over lifted arms, "Oh, such lovely breasts," to Julia's amazement, the woman began fondling her tits. "They remind me of mine once! So soft and tender," she cupped her hands over Julia's breasts and squeezed firmly, giving both her nipples a solid twist, said, "Ah ha! Now I know why the prince chose you to work off your family's dept!" Still giggling quietly, the old woman pulled the lace nightdress over Julia's uncomfortably erect nipples and smoothed it over her lithe belly. She then tucked it under Julia's bottom, giving her a firm pat.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it? Well maybe a little," the old lady said as she rubbed the hip she fell on. "One more thing, and then we'll be on our way. Harry and Thomas will now tuck you in for the night." The guards now worked efficiently, as one held her wrists high, and the other locked Julia's wrists into two more steel cuffs. These manacles were connected by a chain about two inches long. The connector was then locked to another chain bolted into the wall behind her head. The men pulled at the chain between her feet, which forced her to lay on her back, then hooked them to something solid at the foot of the bed. They tugged at the bonds to make sure her body was taut, but not too tight. Now that the woman was watching, they made a big show of averting their eyes from her privates, with one only 'accidentally' brushing a clumsy palm over her breast as he pulled the blanket up to her chin. Finally a long scarf was produced from the woman's deep pockets, and tied firmly over her eyes.

"Good night, my dear. I forgive you your transgression." Julia felt a pair of lips kiss her own, and she still had a shed of modesty left to hope the whiskers she felt belonged to the old woman.

"Taxing Beauty"

by Sally J

Chapter Five

Julia waited. What else could she do? She waited and she had no idea how long she waited. The stone walls and impenetrable door didn't let any sound pass through. She pulled at the chains that held her so solidly. She couldn't believe she was in this situation. How could she go from being free, laughing with her friends, sleeping under her parent's roof, to this? Chained, humiliated, a slave in her king's castle.

As she whimpered in self-pity, she made the links of her chains clink the only sound in the dead silent room. She tried to turn over to make herself more comfortable, but instead her limbs only twisted uncomfortably in their steel prisons. She vocalized a long, steady, tortured cry as she tried with all her might to pull her body free and rise from the bed.

She knew she was being irrational - flesh against steel, steel always wins. The instinct to try and release herself was just too strong. Wishing she could rub her aching wrists and ankles, she finally laughed to herself, remembering the old lady's words, "…of course they'll hurt if you do that! Just relax."

She tried. Julia cuddled her exposed skin into the fine silk sheet and rubbed her breasts against the scratchy lace nightgown. She rubbed her stiff legs together, sending sparks of heat through her sex and up to her nipples. Smiling, she remembered dreaming for this captivity all those lonely nights in her bed. She had dreamed of being the prince's prisoner, to be treated like an object for his pleasure. She remembered wanting to feel used, without any thought given to her feelings, or pleasure.

Now she rubbed her thighs together faster and let the manacles around her wrists be the strong hands of the prince. Now she moaned in pleasure and felt a small smile stretch her lips…

Suddenly, a jangle of keys, metal against metal. She froze. The door creaked open. She lay still wondering if she should pretend to be asleep.

"Hello there? Anyone home?" She heard the prince chuckle, as he slammed the door behind him and lit the torch by the bed. Bright now behind her blindfold, she could feel warm air brush her left cheek.

"Ah someone is home indeed," Julia stirred awkwardly. She sensed eyes bearing down on her helpless figure. There were faint footfalls and suddenly she felt a heavy hand on her breast, "Hmmm. Enjoying your stay, thus far? I am."

Julia wiggled under his probing hands. He squeezed her soft breasts under the bedding making her legs squirm. Instinctively she tried to reach him with her chained hands.

"It seems you are! You're very quiet about it though, my little mouse. Did Nurse tell you you shouldn't speak to your master?"

"No, Sir," she replied. The word 'master' sent a deep, sexual note ringing inside her.

"Good, because unless I gag you, I expect you to respond to me immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Enough with the 'Sir'! I am not a common nobleman?" He squeezed her breast for emphasis. "Now you will call me Your Highness! Do you understand?"

"Yes, S - Your Highness," Julia breathed, yearning to see her master's face.

Julia felt the blanket peeled away from her chest, the cool air piquing her nipples. "Lovely. Lovely. Now, Julia - it's Julia, right?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Good. Now, Julia, we're going to have some fun while you're here. I can tell you want it as much as I do. Your pert little nips give you away."

Julia blushed and tried to move away from the prince's fingertips. She was very excited, despite herself. Her mind told her to fight his rough treatment, but her body enjoyed giving in. Her vagina had been sending its message of arousal to her entire system, making her feel dizzy and powerless.

"Have you ever been fully naked before a man, Julia?"

"No, Your Highness," she said, her voice quivering.

"Well, I think your fair, young body would add life to my drab, dungeon walls." Julia couldn't believe she was hearing this. This is exactly what she always wanted and always feared, "You look a little too comfortable here. No slave lays idle under my care!"

Expertly, the prince had Julia unchained and removed her blindfold. Then, he was on top of her prostrate form and hissed into her eyes, "If you so much as make a sound, or attempt to run from me, you will be severely punished. Do you understand?"

Julia shook her head yes, drawn to the cool fire of his eyes.

"Come now." He helped her out of the bed onto her shaky legs, limp and lifeless after being held straight for so long. Pulling her arm up over his neck, he walked her out of the room and into a deserted the hallway.

From the stillness of the corridor, it seemed to be mid-evening. The prince led his barefoot charge down a flight of stairs, at the north end of the hallway.

The feeling was starting to come back into her limbs, but Julia was still afraid her knees would buckle on the steep staircase. Their path was lit by torchlight, but she still couldn't see beyond the step ahead of her. The prince held her tightly by the waist, until they descended to the ground.

Torches lined the walls, insufficient to cast out the shadow of the dark, windowless room. Brighter light burned in clusters, illuminating specific stations. Julia suddenly missed her mother terribly and choked back a sob.

Her eyes traveled along the wall, to the nearest display. Long, thick chains emerged from high on the wall, which ended in the type manacles she'd recently had locked to her wrists. Underneath, a chain with two more cuffs rested on the stone floor.

Drinking in the sight, Julia's throat felt parched. She made to turn and face the prince, telling him everything. She was going to tell him that she thought she wanted this, but she was wrong, fool-headed, impulsive. She was going to demand to be returned home immediately. Sebastian was faster though and grabbed quickly at her right wrist, locking it to the wall, "Wait! What are you doing!?"

The prince laughs at Julia and using her confusion to his advantage, easily raises her left wrist into place, locking it as well. "Wait? For what?" he mocks. Julia pulls at the chains, making a useless clanking sound and watches the prince bend down and lock her feet into the other pair of cuffs, "Now, that's better. No silly bedcovers to hide your figure from me. Comfortable?"

"No, I'm not!" Julia protests, "I have no shoes on and the floor is ice! Please release me, Sir?"

"Sir? Have you forgotten your manners so quickly?" The prince looks around theatrically, "I know we're all alone down here, Young Lady, but you're still to address me properly. Do you understand?" With that he pivots to face her, his eyes mere inches from hers.

"Yes. Yes, Your Highness. But, please, Your Highness, what are you going to do to me?"

"Oh, I don't know…" he answers thoughtfully. Slowly, the handsome prince traces the girl's outline. Two hands brush sides of her jaw, pause at the beating pulse in her neck, then cup the sides of her breasts,. They linger there a moment, then continue, running down to her waist, out over her hips, and thighs. She looks as he kneels before her now, stroking the sides of her bare knees, their sensitive backs, then fondling the top of her feet gently. Teasingly, he runs his fingernails across her arches, then tickles the tops of her toes.

"Collecting taxes," he sighs, breaking the cold silence with false lament. "All my friends said it would be dull work. Counting coins, keeping ledgers all that sort of thing. They sincerely underestimated the spirit of creative enterprise, didn't they?" he laughs. "Credit, debts, money – these are such fluid terms. What price can be put on your young body? What silver are your parents paying me, what gold!" His hands run quickly now, up and down her figure, lulling her into an almost hypnotic state. She feels like a stray cat, found and stroked into submission. Despite herself, she starts to relax and through the chill, feels prickles of perspiration itching her underarms, warming her chest. His touch seems soothing and predictable, as if she'd been here, in this place, forever.

She jumps in her chains then, as after he strokes her inner thighs with feathery fingertips, he swiftly hooks his middle finger into the slit of her vagina, pressing his palm firmly onto her most sensitive spot. She gasps and tries to twist away. Tears roll from her eyes from surprise, and the fact that only her hand has ever been in that secret place. Her breath in coming in shallow starts and stops. Her eyes, slightly unfocused, watch Sebastian smiling calmly up at her. He continues to move his finger, then fingers, in deeper, rotating his iron palm around and around her clitoris.

"This isn't so bad, is it? I'm not so horrible either and can prove it. Or, if you'd like, I can be wicked!" Tightly, he pinches her clitoris and holds it, pulling, hard and slaps her inner thigh. Laughing, he watches her dance against the wall, futilely trying to run from his control, screaming useless pleas.

"Shhh, shhh…come now," he strokes her belly softly. "Just consider that a warning, my dear. You've done nothing to displease me, yet, so there's no reason for you to fear my wrath. We're still getting to know each other and so far, I am enjoying our friendship. You?" He massages a breast with one hand, as he caresses her sore clitoris with the other.

Julia is conflicted as to how to answer. She desperately wants to scream something noble, like, 'Never! I will never give in to you!' However, she knows already, by the way this man's knowing fingers glide so easily into her moist hollow, that she already his. Worse, she knows from the prince's low hum of approval, that he already heard her answer.