Fanchon's Book(16)

"Oooh, I like that. Yes, ma'm, I'll be your princess." A fleeting frown marred her radiant features. "Hey, that doesn't sound right. Ma'm. No, I can't go on calling you that. Not if I'm a princess."

"I understand, princess. My name is Fanchon."

"Yes. Fanchon. Very good. Now tell me, Fanchon, just what are you begging for?"

"I-I'm begging for a second chance. Let me kiss you and prove I can do it without hurting you."

"Well! You might say please."

"I'm sorry, princess. Please let me kiss you?"

"Yes. Here, you may kiss my hand."

Her imperious gesture stunned me. The little monster-sticking her hand out like that-wasn't she carrying the charade a bit too far? But how beautiful she looked sitting here, how bright and piercing her eyes. Emeralds, truly. I knew she was stimulated: And hadn't she told me about getting all wrapped up in her acting role?-I should have expected something like this. What else could I do but humor her?

I kissed the extended fingertips lightly. They wriggled in a peremptory request for more; my lovely little princess was getting hot-how nice! and I parted my lips and bathed her hand with kisses. A finger slipped into my mouth; I sucked on it, quivering in a warmth of my own as it squirmed a small duel with my tongue.

"There now, Fanchon, you've kissed me. Satisfied, "Princess… no-oh, you know. Not just your hand."

"Umm, I suppose not. All right then, you may help me undress. You do want to see me naked, don't you?" My eager compliance was sufficient reply. Hastily, although rather awkwardly, all thumbs in anticipation, I tugged her clothing off. And once again, much as I should have been accustomed to it by this time, I went numb with intoxicated fascination at the sight of her nude body. The sheer splendor of it!

"So beautiful," I murmured. "Hmm? You like?"

"My beautiful princess… "

"Am I beautiful? From my head to my pretty toes? You said that, Fanchon, remember? I didn't even know my toes were pretty until you told me so. But you did say it, even though you probably didn't mean it."

"I-I meant it. You're beautiful. All of you."

"I'm glad you think so. It's the way a slave should feel about her princess. Would you like to kiss me now?"

"Please… yes, darling princess."

"Then kiss my toes. My pretty toes."

In the murky whirl inside my skull there was a bubble of clarity. Such a diabolical little scamp! taking my words and twisting them to suit herself; even the idea of the worshipful slave had been mine (maybe I should have copyrighted it?) and she was stealing the whole plum right out from under my nose, taking over like a petty tyrant.

"What are you waiting for, Fanchon? You don't want to be my captive slave? The beautiful slave I bought in the marketplace for my pleasure? But you do, you know you do. And I want you to. So come now, obey me-kiss my feet!"

A tyrant, no less; ah, but what a lovable tyrant, a spoiled and saucy child, willful, outspoken, afire with brash vivacity, so utterly free of adult inhibitions. The shell of shyness was gone. I crouched low and pressed my mouth to one bare foot, then the other-beautiful feet, slender and high-arched and without a single blemish-but I couldn't stop to admire them, no, I couldn't stop for anything: two kisses weren't enough. Her toes pried my lips apart-forcefully; the command was implicit-and my only concern was to please my princess.

And please her I did. Nor did I have to be told how. Her little sighs and squeals and giggles kept me in line, informing me of my progress; I wondered if I would-have done all these bizarre things without that joyous pattern of noise to follow. Would I have opened my mouth like this? Licked the soles of her feet with my tongue? Sucked the pretty toes that wiggled between my lips? I didn't know. I didn't care, really. I just knew I was doing them-worshiping the beautiful feet of my beautiful princess-and adding every possible fillip that might bring another sigh, another giggle, another surge of heat in the already molten pit of my loins.