Beauty's Release

BEAUTY: MYSTERIOUS CUSTOMS
IT SEEMED a quarter of an hour had passed, and still the double doors had not closed. Now and then they had moved, creaked on their hinges a little, the opening narrowing, then widening. Beauty, shivering and weeping in the tight gold wrappings, knew that someone was watching her. She tried to still the tumult in her mind, but she could not. And, when panic swept over her again, she struggled violently and uselessly, the bonds holding her quite firmly.
The door opened wider. And it seemed her heart stopped altogether. She lowered her gaze as best she could with her chin thrust up by the collar. And her tears melted everything into a golden glow through which she saw a richly dressed Lord approaching her. His head was covered by an emerald-green velvet hood embroidered in gold, and his cloak covered him to the floor, his face completely veiled in shadow.
Quite suddenly Beauty felt a hand on her wet sex, and she swallowed a sob as the hand pulled at her pubic hair and pinched her lips, and then parted them with two fingers. She gasped, biting into her lip, trying to be quiet. The fingers pinched her *oris and pulled on it, as if to stretch it. She moaned aloud, forgetting to close her lips, and the tears slid down her cheeks faster than before, as a gasp caught in her throat with a low, strangled sound.
The hand withdrew. She shut her eyes, waiting for the man to move on, to go down the corridor as the others had towards the distant sound of the music. But he remained there, right in front of her, looking at her. And her soft cries echoed abominably in the marble alcove.
Never before had she been so tightly bound, so helpless. And never had she known such silent tension, as the figure stood before her doing nothing.
But quite suddenly she heard a small voice, a timid voice, speak to her. It said words she couldn’t understand and the name “Inanna.” With a shock, Beauty realized this was a woman’s voice. It was a woman saying her own name, and Beauty saw that this was no Lord at all, this creature in the emerald cloak. Rather it was the violet-eyed woman from the harem.
“Inanna,” the woman said again. And she lifted her finger to her lips, gesturing for silence. Her expression wasn’t fearful, however. It was determined.
And the sight of the woman covered in the splendid green robe subdued Beauty and strangely aroused her. “Inanna,” she thought. “What a lovely name. But what does this creature, Inanna, want of me?” She stared back unabashedly as Inanna looked up at her. Ferocious eyes, they seemed now, and the mouth bittersweet, and the blood dancing underneath the olive skin as it must have danced in Beauty’s face. The silence between them was charged with emotion.
Then Inanna moved her hand inside her robes and she drew out a large pair of golden scissors. At once, she opened the scissors and slipped them under the silk wrappings that crossed over Beauty’s belly, and she cut the cloth in big slow strokes, easing the cold metal up Beauty’s flesh as the cloth fell away quickly.
Beauty could not see this happening because of the high collar. But she felt it keenly, felt the scissors’s blade crawling down her left leg and then her right and the tight cloth falling away without a sound to release her. In an instant, she was free of all covering and she could move her arms; and only the collar held her. But Inanna stepped up into the niche and released the hook, and, freeing Beauty from the collar, she took her down out of the niche and towards the doorway.
Beauty glanced back at the open collar and the abandoned silk. Surely others would discover this. But what could she do? This woman was her Mistress, wasn’t she? She hesitated, but Inanna opened her cloak and covered Beauty with it and took her through the doors and into a large chamber.
Through a wall of filigree, Beauty saw a bed and a bath, but Inanna pulled her past this, and through another door, and down a narrow passage, one perhaps that only servants used. And as Beauty hurried, the cloak draping her but not covering her, she could feel the body of Inanna next to her, the thick fabric over her breasts, her hips, her arm. Beauty was excited and afraid and half amused by what was happening.
When they reached another door, Inanna opened it and immediately bolted it behind them. They came to another screen, and beyond it was another bedchamber. All the doors were bolted.
The room seemed royal to Beauty because it was immense, its walls covered in delicate flower mosaics, its windows screened and draped in sheer gold cloth, its great white bed strewn with gold satin pillows. Thick white candles burned in their high stands. The light was even and the air warm, the entire room, in spite of its grandeur, soothing and inviting.
Inanna left Beauty and advanced to the bed. With her back to Beauty she took off the emerald robe and hood, and she knelt and hid them beneath the bed, smoothing the white drapery carefully.
She turned around, and the two women looked at each other. Beauty was stunned by Inanna’s loveliness, the deep violet of her eyes flaming now on account of her violet garments, the tight thick bodice perfectly revealing the outlines of her nipples. The girdle was gilded metal and higher, tighter than the one she had worn before, coming to a point beneath her breasts and descending in another point almost to her sex, which was covered in tight little pants of fabric as thick as that of the bodice. Her loose pantaloons shimmered as they veiled her naked legs to the cuffs at her ankles.
Beauty took in all of it, took in Inanna’s dark hair and the jewels that studded it, and the way that Inanna’s eyes fixed upon her, considering her. But Beauty’s eyes returned again and again to the girdle. She wanted to open the long row of tiny metal hooks and release the body within. How terrible it was that the wives of the Sultan were like slaves, that they wore this ornate instrument of binding and punishment.
She thought of the women of the harem who had played with her, given her pleasure, worked her as if she were a jointed doll, yet never revealed anything of themselves. Were they denied pleasure?
She looked at Inanna and said silently, with all her being:
“What is it you want of me?” Her own body was full of craving and curiosity and renewed vigor.
Inanna came forward and looked at Beauty, looked at her nakedness. Beauty felt natural, suddenly, and free. And she reached out tentatively, and felt the hard metallic bands of the girdle. Why, the thing was actually hinged at the sides, she realized, and the fabric binding Inanna’s breasts and sex looked unbearably hot, confining.
“You took me out of my wrappings,” Beauty thought. “Should I take you out of yours?” She lifted her hand, and with her first and second fingers made a gesture that mimicked the cutting of the scissors. She pointed to Inanna’s garments. She raised her eyebrows inquiringly, repeating the motion as if she were snipping.
Inanna understood, and her face radiated delight. She even laughed. But then her face went dark. Bittersweet again. “What a terrible thing to be so pretty when you are sad,” Beauty thought. “Sadness shouldn’t be pretty.”
But Inanna took Beauty’s hand suddenly and led her to the bed. They sat down together. Inanna stared at Beauty’s breasts, and slowly Beauty lifted them with her hands as if offering them. Her body shivered with sensuous feeling as she cupped the flesh and turned it towards Inanna, and Inanna flushed darkly and her lips quivered, her tongue appearing between her teeth for an instant. As she looked at Beauty’s breasts, her hair fell down in her face, and the sight of her bent slightly forward, the hair cascading over her shoulders and the tight metal girdle binding her, made Beauty simmer with desire inexplicably.
Beauty reached out and touched the metal girdle. Inanna drew back just a little, but she kept her hands still as if she were powerless. And Beauty closed her hands on the hard cold thing, and this too inexplicably excited her. She opened the clasps one after another. Each made a tiny clicking sound. But now the girdle was ready to come off. She had only to slide her fingers under it and pull it apart.
She did so suddenly, gritting her teeth, and the metal shell released Inanna’s waist and the fine wrinkled cloth gathered around it. Inanna shuddered, and her cheeks went crimson. Beauty drew nearer and tore the violet cloth of the bodice, all the way down into the tight pants under the pantaloons. Not a finger lifted to stop her. And then the breasts were free, magnificent breasts, very firm and high, with nipples of a dark rose color, and slightly tipped upward.
Inanna was blushing and shivering uncontrollably. Beauty could feel her heat, yet it seemed unaccountably innocent. She touched the back of her curled hand to Inanna’s cheek. And Inanna inclined her head gently to receive the touch. She was clearly in a paroxysm of passion and did not seem to understand it.
Beauty reached for the breasts, but then changed her mind, and she ripped at the cloth again, revealing the smooth curve of Inanna’s belly. Then the woman stood up, and she too pushed at the cloth until her pants and pantaloons fell down around her ankles. Shuddering still, her hands trembling, she pulled the tangled garments away from her feet, and she stared at Beauty, her face on the verge of some terrible outburst.
Beauty reached to take her hand. But Inanna backed away. The act of showing herself naked had overwhelmed her. She reached as if to cover her enormous breasts, or the triangle of her pubic hair, but then, sensing the foolishness of it, she clasped her hands behind her back, then in front, helplessly. She implored Beauty with her eyes.
Beauty rose and came towards her. She took her by the shoulders, and Inanna bowed her head. “Why, you are like a frightened virgin,” Beauty thought. And she kissed Inanna’s burning cheek, their breasts touching. Inanna suddenly opened her arms to Beauty, and her lips found Beauty’s neck and covered it with kisses as Beauty sighed and let the sensation pass through her in delicious silvery ripples, like a sound echoing through a long passage. The fact was Inanna boiled with heat. She was hotter than anyone Beauty had ever touched. The passion was spilling out of her even hotter than it did from the Master, Lexius.
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 *oris 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 *oris 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 *oris 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.