Still holding her firmly in his left arm, he turned to his supper.

He ate heartily, pork, roast fowl, some fruit, and several cups of wine. Then he told the servants to take it all away and leave them.

New sheets and coverlets had been laid on the bed; there were fresh down pillows, and roses in a vase nearby, and several candelabra.

"Now," he said as he rose and set her before him. "We must get to bed as we have a long journey before us tomorrow. And I have still to punish you for your earlier impertinence."

Immediately the tears stood in her eyes; she looked up at him imploring. She almost reached to cover her br**sts and her sex, and then remembering herself she made her hands into two little helpless fists at her sides.

"I won't punish you very much," he said gently, lifting her chin. "It was just a little offense, and your first after all. But Beauty, to confess the truth, I shall love punishing you."

She was biting her lip, and he could see she wanted to speak, and the effort to control her tongue and her hands was almost too much for her.

"All right, lovely one, what do you want to say?" he asked.

"Please, my Prince," she begged. "I'm so afraid of you."

"You'll find me more reasonable than you expect," he said.

He removed his long cloak, tossing it over a chair, and bolted the door. Then he snuffed all but a few candles.

He would sleep in his clothes as he did most nights, in the forest, or in the country inns, or in the houses of those humble peasants at which he sometimes stopped, and that was no great inconvenience to him.

And as he drew near her now, he thought he must be merciful and make her punishment quick. And seating himself on the side of the bed, he reached out for her, and pulling her wrists into his left hand he brought her naked body down over his lap so that her legs dangled over the floor helplessly.

"Very, very lovely," he said, his right hand moving languidly over her rounded bu**ocks, forcing them ever so slightly apart.

Beauty was crying aloud, but muffling her cries into the bed, her hands held out in front of her by his long left arm.

And now with his right hand he spanked her bu**ocks hard and heard her cries grow louder. It wasn't really much of a slap.

But it left a red mark on her. And he spanked her hard again, and he felt her writhing against him, the heat and moisture of her sex against his leg, and again he spanked her.

"I think you are sobbing more from the humiliation than the pain," he scolded her in a soft voice.

She was struggling not to make her cries too loud.

He flattened out his right hand, and feeling the heat of her reddened bu**ocks drew it up and delivered another series of hard, loud slaps, smiling as he watched her struggle.

He could have spanked her much harder, for his own pleasure, and without really hurting her. But he thought better of it. He had so many nights ahead of him for these delights.

He lifted her up now so that she was standing in front of him.

"Toss your hair back," he commanded. Her tear-stained face was unspeakably beautiful, her lips trembling, her blue eyes gleaming with the dampness of the tears. She obeyed immediately.

"I don't think you were so very spoilt," he said. "I find you very obedient and eager to please, and this makes me very happy."

He could see her relief.

"Clasp your hands behind your neck," he said, "under your hair. That's it. Very good." He lifted her chin again. "And you have a lovely modest habit of looking down. But now I want you to look directly at me."

She obeyed shyly, miserably. It seemed she felt her nakedness and her helplessness more fully now as she looked at him. Her lashes were matted and dark, and her blue eyes larger than he had thought.

"Do you find me handsome?" he asked her. "Ah, but before you answer, I should like to know the truth from you, not what you think I should like to hear, or what would be best for you to say, you understand me?"

"Yes, my Prince," she whispered. She seemed calmer.

He reached out, massaged her right breast lightly, and then stroked her downy underarms, feeling the little curve of the muscle there beneath the tiny wisp of golden hair, and then he stroked that full, most hair between her legs so that she sighed and trembled.

"Now," he said, "answer my question, and describe what you see. Describe me as if you had only just met me and were confiding in your chambermaid."

Again she bit her lip, which he dearly loved, and then, her voice a little diminished by uncertainty, she said:

"You are very handsome, my Prince, no one could deny that. And for one...for one..."

"Go on," he said. He drew her just a little closer so that her sex was against his knee, and putting his right are about her, he cradled her breast in his left hand and let his lips touch her cheek.

"And for one so young to be so commanding," she said, "it's not what one might expect."

"And tell me how does that show itself in me, other than my actions?"

"Your manner, my Prince," she said, her voice gaining a little strength. "The look of your eyes, such dark eyes...your face. There are none of the doubts of youth in it."

He smiled and kissed her ear. He wondered why the wet little cleft between her legs was so very hot. His fingers could not keep from touching it. Twice already he's had her today, and he would have her again, but he was thinking he should go about it more slowly.

"Would you like it if I were older?" he whispered.

"I had thought," she said, "that it would be easier. To be commanded by one so very young," she said, "is to feel one's helplessness."

It seemed the tears had welled up and were spilling out of her eyes, so he pushed her gently back so he might see them.

"My darling, I have awakened you from a century's sleep, and restored your father's Kingdom. You're mine. And you won't find me such a hard master. Only a very thorough master. When you think night and day and every moment only of pleasing me, things will be very easy for you."

And as she struggled not to look away, he could see again the relief in her face, and that she was in complete awe of him.

"Now," he said, pushing his left fingers between her legs, and drawing her close again so that she let out a little gasp before she could stop herself, "I want more of you than I've had before. Do you know what I mean, my Sleeping Beauty?"

She shook her head; for this moment she was in terror.

He lifted her up onto the bed and laid her down.

The candles threw a warm, almost rosy light over her. Her hair fell down on either side of the bed, and she seemed on the verge of crying out, her hands struggling to keep still at her sides.