Free Beauty's Release by Anne Rice

confusion of all sense of time and place overcame her.

BEAUTY: THE FIRST TEST OF OBEDIENCE
    W HEN THEY paused at a door, she dared to kiss his slipper. And for this he rewarded her by touching her hair and whispering under his breath:
    “Little pet, you please me very much. But now comes the first real test. See that you outshine those before you.”
    Her heart skipped a beat. And when she heard him knock on the door before her, she held her breath altogether.
    In a moment, the door opened. Two male servants admitted her and the Master. And again, she was moving fast across a polished floor, and a dim sound coming from a distance distracted her.
    Women’s voices, laughter. It came in waves. It froze her soul suddenly.
    Her Master had stopped her with a little pull on the leashes. He was talking pleasantly with the two men. How civilized it all sounded. As if she didn’t kneel there with the clamps on her nipples, her hair swept up to expose her naked neck, her face burning.
    And how many such slaves had these men seen? What was another without a name, remarkable only perhaps for the unusual blond coloring?
    But the little conversation was finished. The Master gave a jerk of the chains again and led Beauty to a wall, where suddenly she saw a small opening before her.
    It was a passage, but one that could not be entered except on hands and knees, and at the far end she could see bright sunlight. The feminine laughter and talk echoed through the passage loudly.
    She shrank back, frightened of the passage, frightened of the voices. It was the harem. It had to be. What had he called it, the Harem of Beautiful and Virtuous Royal Wives? And she must enter it this way, alone, without the Master? Like a little beast released into an arena?
    Why had he chosen this for her? Why? She was suddenly paralyzed with fear. She feared the women more than she could have ever explained. After all, they weren’t Princesses of her own class, or hardworking Mistresses who would treat her harshly of necessity. She had no idea really what they were, except they were different from anything she had ever known. What would they do to her, expect of her?
    It seemed the most horrid of humiliations that she would be given over to them—women who were kept veiled and secluded for the pleasure of their husband. Yet they seemed more dangerous even than the men of the palace. She could not fathom it.
    She shrank back even farther, and she heard the two men laugh above her. The Master at once bent down and placed the two soft leather handles of her leashes into her mouth. He adjusted her head, put a little hair in place, pinched her cheek.
    She tried not to cry.
    And then firmly and confidently he pushed her buttocks forward, his hand very strong and hot against the thin streaks of warmth left by the weak and delicate thong, and she struggled to obey, sobbing silently with the little gag of the handles in her teeth.
    There was no choice. Had he not told her what was expected? And, once she entered the passage, she could not stop. It would be too utterly disgraceful.
    But just when her courage did fail her again, when a particularly loud volley of noise rolled through the passage, she felt his lips against her cheek. He was kneeling beside her himself. He slid his hand beneath her breasts, gathering them tenderly in his long fingers. And he whispered in her ear.
    “Do not fail me, lovely one.”
    And breaking from the warmth of his touch, she went at once into the opening. Her cheeks were stinging with humiliation as she realized she carried her own leashes in her mouth, that she was crawling of her own will through this hollow passage of polished stone—polished by other hands and knees, surely—that she must emerge in this abject manner.
    But faster and faster she moved, towards the light and towards the voices. And there was some faint hope in her that, no matter how dreadful this might be, the passion in her might somehow be used to advantage. Her sex