“Yes, my prince"

“Yes, my prince,” you respond, remembering how he wanted to be addressed, but decide to be honest with him, “but…it’s so difficult.”]

“Of course it is” he smiles, “but, for me, you will do it.”

The prince pulls you into his lap, cradling you in his left arm. “Kiss me,” he commands, and you do so, not without a queasy feeling: are you a man in a woman’s body, or a woman who thought she was a man, returning to a woman’s body? This kiss is either very right, or very wrong, depending on what you really are.

The prince dismisses the king. “You may go. Tell your servants to have my horse ready in the morning. Beauty won’t need a horse. My soldiers, I am sure, you have found at your gate. They were afraid to follow me in. Tell them, too, to be ready to leave at dawn. You and your queen may say goodbye to Beauty then.” The king departs, backing with unfailing courtesy out the door. You are aware that he is afraid of the prince, but don’t know why.

The prince turns his attention back to you after the king leaves. You obediently keep your hands on your thighs, leaving your sex exposed to his gaze. “Now, don’t be frightened,” the prince says, as he slaps your breasts lightly, “I could be old and ugly.”