Beauty's Release (13 page)

Beauty could stand it no longer. She clasped Inanna’s head and forced her mouth onto Inanna’s mouth and when the woman stiffened, Beauty refused to let her go, Inanna’s mouth opening suddenly. “That’s it,” Beauty thought, “kiss me, truly kiss me.” And she drew the breath out of Inanna, their breasts crushed against each other now. Beauty’s arms went round Inanna, and she pressed her pubis against Inanna’s pubis and twisted her hips, the small region of her body exploding with a sensation that quickly enveloped her. Inanna was all softness and fire, an absolutely enthralling combination.

“Dear, innocent little thing,” Beauty whispered into her ear. Inanna moaned and tossed her hair back and closed her eyes, her mouth fallen open as Beauty kissed her throat, their bodies grinding against each other, the thick nest of Inanna’s hair prickling and scratching Beauty, the pressure forcing the sensations to such a pitch that Beauty thought she could no longer remain standing.

Inanna began to cry. It was a hoarse, low cry on the verge of release, the sobs coming like little coughs, her shoulders shivering. But she broke free and scrambled onto the bed, and suddenly let her hair cover her face as she sobbed into the coverlet.

“No, you mustn’t be afraid,” Beauty said. She lay down beside her and gently turned her over. The breasts were absolutely luscious. Even Princess Elena didn’t have such gorgeous breasts, Beauty thought. She forced one of the pillows under Inanna’s head and she kissed her, climbing on top of her, their pelvises rubbing slowly against each other again until Inanna’s face went red once more and she sighed deeply.

“Yes, that’s much better, my sweet darling,” Beauty said. She lifted the left breast in her fingers, studying it, her thumb and forefinger imprisoning the small nipple. How tender it was. She bent down and stroked it with her teeth, feeling it grow taller, harder, and hearing Inanna groan painfully. Then Beauty closed her mouth on it and sucked hard and lovingly, her left arm slipping under Inanna to lift her, her right hand fighting Inanna’s hand, pushing it away when Inanna tried to defend herself.

Inanna’s hips rose off the bed, and she tossed under Beauty, but Beauty would not let go of the breast, feasting on it, licking it, kissing it.

But suddenly Inanna shoved her away with both hands and turned over, gesturing frantically that they must stop, that it couldn’t continue.

“But why?” Beauty whispered. “Do you think it’s bad to feel this?” Beauty asked. “Listen to me!” She took Inanna by the shoulders and made her look up.

Inanna’s eyes were large and glossy, and the tears clung to her long black eyelashes. Her face was rent with pain, genuine pain.

“It isn’t wrong,” Beauty said. And she bent to kiss Inanna, but the woman wouldn’t allow it.

Beauty waited. She sat back on her heels with her hands on her thighs, and she looked at Inanna. She remembered how forceful her first Master, the Crown Prince, had been with her when he first claimed her. She remembered how she had been overpowered, whipped, made to yield to her feelings. She had no leave to do such things to this voluptuous darling, and she did not want to do them. But something was very wrong here. Inanna was desperate, miserable.

And now, as if to answer Beauty, Inanna sat up and brushed her hair back from her wet face, and then, shaking her head with the saddest expression, she parted her legs and reached down to her own sex and covered it with her hands. Her whole attitude was one of shame, and it hurt Beauty to see it.

She took Inanna’s hands away. “But it is nothing to be ashamed of,” she said. She wished Inanna could understand her words. She pushed Inanna’s hands to the side and parted her legs before Inanna could stop her. And Inanna rested her hands on the bed to steady herself.

“Divine sex,” Beauty whispered, and she stroked the place between Inanna’s legs reverently. Inanna cried softly, brokenheartedly.

And then Beauty spread the legs wider and looked into the sex, and she saw something that startled her so completely that for the moment she could not recover, could not say what she meant to say, could not reassure Inanna.

She tried to hide her shock. Perhaps it was a trick of light and shadow. And Inanna was sobbing. She would not hold steady. But as Beauty bent closer, as she forced the beautifully shaped thighs wider apart, she saw that she had not been wrong. The sex was mutilated!

The clitoris had been cut out, and there was nothing there but a tiny smooth pad of scar tissue. And the pubic lips had been sheared to half their size, and they too were thickened with scar tissue.

Beauty felt such horror that for a moment she could do nothing to conceal her feelings but stare at this dreadful evidence in front of her. But then she swallowed her revulsion for the act itself, and looked at the enticing creature before her. And then impulsively she kissed Inanna’s trembling breasts again, and she kissed her mouth, not letting Inanna shy away. And she licked at the tears that spilled over Inanna’s cheeks, locking her in a long kiss that finally subjugated her.

“Yes, yes, darling,” Beauty said. “Yes, my precious one.” And when Inanna had calmed somewhat, Beauty looked at the multilated sex again and studied it more completely. The little kernel of pleasure excised, yes. And the lips too. And nothing left but the portal that the man might enjoy. The filthy, selfish beast, the animal.

Inanna was watching her. Beauty sat back and lifted her hands to ask a question in gestures. She indicated herself, her hair, her body, to mean “women,” then made sweeping gestures all around to mean “all women here” and pointed to the scarred sex inquiringly.

Inanna nodded. She confirmed it with another sweeping gesture of her own: “Yes,” she said in Beauty’s own tongue, “All ... all....”

“All women here?”

“Yes,” Inanna answered.

Beauty was silent. She knew now why the women of the harem had found her such a curiosity, why they had delighted in her feeling. And her hatred of the Sultan and of all the Lords of the palace became something dark and full of anguish.

Inanna wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. She was staring at Beauty’s sex, and her face had lapsed into quiet, childish curiosity.

“But something strange is happening here,” Beauty murmured. “This woman does feel! She is as hot as I am hot.” She touched her lips as she thought of the kisses. “It was desire that impelled her to come to me, free me from the bindings, bring me here. But has this desire never been consummated?” She looked at Inanna’s breasts, at her exquisitely rounded arms, and her long curling brown hair that hung down over her shoulders.

“No, surely she can be made to feel it to the pinnacle,” Beauty thought. “It is more than these external parts. It must be.” And she gathered Inanna into her arms and again forced her mouth open with kisses.

At first Inanna was puzzled, and with her little moans she questioned Beauty. But Beauty squeezed her breasts as she put her tongue between Inanna’s lips. She brought the passion up slowly until Inanna’s heart was again pounding. Inanna pressed her legs together, then knelt up as Beauty knelt up, and once again their bodies were wedded, mouths locked, all Beauty’s flesh awakened by Inanna’s flesh, her pubis electrified as she danced against Inanna. Beauty fed upon the breasts again, greedily and hard, holding tight to Inanna’s arms and not letting her go even when the feeling made her frantic.

Finally, Beauty felt Inanna was ready, and roughly she pushed her back on the pillows and parted her legs, and spread apart the little sex that had been so butchered. The vital wetness was there, the delicious smoky-tasting fluids that Beauty could lap with her tongue as Inanna’s hips rose in snapping spasms. “Yes, darling,” Beauty thought, and her tongue drove deep into the sex, licking at the top of the vagina until Inanna’s cries became hoarse and unmodulated. “Yes, yes, darling,” she thought, and she closed her mouth on the stunted lips, her tongue seeking the deeper, tougher muscles of the little cavity and pumping against them furiously.

Inanna turned and struggled under her. Her hands pushed at Beauty’s hair but not with enough will to dislodge Beauty’s head, and Beauty, intent upon her task, forced Inanna’s thighs up and tilted her sex back and sucked at it even more savagely. “Yes, come, feel it, my little one,” she thought, “feel it deeply inside,” and she buried her face in the wet swollen flesh, digging faster and deeper with her tongue, her teeth scraping at the tiny pad of scar tissue where the clitoris had been until Inanna lifted her hips with all her strength and cried out, the whole little mouth convulsing violently. Beauty had done it. She had triumphed. And she sucked the throbbing flesh harder and harder until Inanna’s cries went almost into a scream and the woman pulled away and buried her face in the pillow, her whole body shaking.

Beauty sat up. She rested back on her hips again, her own sex ripe, and full of pulse like a heart. Inanna lay still, her face still hidden, and then she sat up slowly, looking stunned and witless, and she stared at Beauty. She threw her arms around Beauty’s neck, and she kissed Beauty all over her face and neck and shoulders.

Beauty accepted all this. Then she lay back on the pillows and she let Inanna lie next to her. She moved her hand between Inanna’s legs, and she put her fingers into the sex.

“Well, this one is stronger than the others,” she thought. “And there has been no one to satisfy her.”

And only then, as she snuggled with Inanna, did she realize that they might both be in danger. It must be forbidden for the wives to do this, forbidden for the wives to be naked except for and with the Sultan.

And Beauty felt a profound hatred for the Sultan and a sudden desire to leave this realm and return to the land of the Queen. But she tried to put this out of her mind, to enjoy the pure excitement of lying next to Inanna, and she began to kiss her breasts again.

In fact, it seemed to her that Inanna’s breasts were the most delectable part of her, and she began to knead them as she nibbled at the nipples. A new sense of abandon came over her. She wasn’t trying to please Inanna now so much as she was lost in her own desires, her mouth pulling on the nipple, her mind only dimly aware of Inanna once more moving under her.

She parted her legs over Inanna’s thigh and pushed her sex against the smooth skin, her burning clitoris throbbing. Suckling Inanna’s breast, she rode the thigh, up and down, her body stiffening, her legs hugging Inanna, until suddenly the orgasms flooded her.

When it was over, it did not leave her in peace. She felt herself in the grip of a fever. The lushness of Inanna’s body and the softness of her own created some new sense of limitless ecstasy, some vague and mad dream of a night of unfolding pleasures, desire building upon desire.

She sucked on Inanna’s tongue, the sweetness intoxicating her and carrying her up and out of her drowsiness. And, remembering dimly the spectacle of Lexius impaling Laurent on his gloved fist, she made her hand into a tight knot and moved it through the charred mouth between Inanna’s legs.

Wet as before, tight, deliciously tight, the opening gripped her fist and the part of her wrist that also entered, and the muscles pulsed against her hungrily, further exciting her. And when she felt Inanna’s clenched hand enter her, she knew again the old pleasure of being filled, her body embracing all these sensations with increasing urgency. She worked Inanna with her fist as Inanna worked her, Inanna’s arm pumping with almost punishing roughness.

When they came it was together, moaning into each other, their bodies drenched in warmth and unbroken tremors of pure ecstasy.

Finally, Beauty lay back on the pillow and rested, her arm still wound around Inanna’s arm, her fingers playing with Inanna’s fingers. She did not open her eyes when Inanna sat up. She was only dimly conscious of Inanna examining her again, Inanna taking her time as she touched Beauty’s breasts and pubic lips, then embracing Beauty and rocking her in her arms as if Beauty were something precious she must never lose: the key to her new and secret realm. She wept again, her tears flowing onto Beauty’s face, but the weeping was soft and full of unmistakable relief and happiness.

LAURENT: THE GARDEN OF MALE DELIGHTS

I
T SEEMED a long time passed. I knelt in silence, my head bowed, my hands spread on my thighs, my cock rising again. The light in the small room had darkened. Late afternoon. Lexius, looking quite composed in his robes, merely stood watching me. Whether it was anger that fixed him there, or bewilderment I couldn’t be certain.

But, when he finally came striding across the room, I felt the force of his will, his ability once again to command both of us.

He put the cock strap around my cock and yanked hard on the leash as he opened the door. In seconds, I was crawling after him. The blood was racing to my head.

And when I saw the garden through the open doors, I felt the faint hope that maybe I wasn’t to be specially punished. It was getting dusk already, and the torches on the walls were just being lighted. The lamps hung in the trees gave off their illumination. And the exquisitely bound slaves, their torsos oiled and gleaming, their heads bowed as before, looked as tantalizing as I had thought they would.

There was one change in the picture, however. All the slaves had been blindfolded. Their eyes were masked by gold leather. And I realized that they were struggling in their bonds, moaning softly—moving with more abandon than they had before, as if the blindfolds released them to do so.

Seldom had I been blindfolded. I didn’t know what I thought of it—whether it would be good or bad, whether it would make me more or less fearful.

There were more servants at work in the garden. Bowls of fruit were being set down. I could smell the red wine in the open decanters.

A small group of grooms appeared. The Master, whose face I had not glimpsed since I had kissed him, snapped his fingers, and we proceeded to the center of the grove of fig trees, the place where we had been before, and I saw Dmitri and Tristan, bound on their crosses as we had left them. Tristan looked particularly handsome with the blindfold, his golden hair falling down over it.