“No, my lord, I don’t think I was willful"

"I always tried to be a joy to my parents.”

“And you will be a joy to me, my dear,” he says lovingly.

The prince then eats heartily, of pork, roast fowl, some fruit, and several glasses of wine. He shares occasionally with you, so that your hunger is assuaged.

When he is finished, he calls for the servants to take it all away and refresh the bed. When they have gone, he says “we must get to bed, as we have a very long journey before us tomorrow, and I still have to punish you for your earlier impertinence.”

This is the moment you have been dreading. Are you afraid, or excited? You almost try to protect yourself with your hands, but remember in time to leave your hands on your thighs, balled up but helpless. You have never felt so ****; even in Roissy, the sex and punishments were impersonal enough that you could consider them just part of the environment. With this prince, though, it is clearly highly personal. Resistance seems to be out of the question, but **** may at least salve your pride.

“I won’t punish you overly much,” the prince says, “because it was just a little offense, and your first. But, Beauty, to confess the truth, I shall love punishing you.”

You struggle to speak the right words, either to appease him or perhaps to merely appease your own self-image.

“All right, lovely one, what do you want to say?” the prince asks, obviously understanding your hesitation.