Chapter 12

And now my darling Katherine, what do we do? Now that your friend Leila is housed in the dungeon, what are we going to do with her? For that matter, what are we going to do with our daughter? Honey, last night at the ball she was unreal! What she did to that poor junior officer, Ensign Morrison — although very funny, I must admit — was inexcusable! But what are we to do? Although scarcely fifteen, she has the sophistication and beauty of a woman far older. Damn it! Now that her tits have almost filled out ... But she's only fifteen! Damn it, woman! She's your slave. Do something!

The ball was — as I have come to expect — another Queen Katherine spectacular ... In spite of the fact that we are not yet married and you are, in fact, still my slave. Technically, at least. Damn it, Katherine, you are not my queen! Yet. Can I help it if my subjects consider you to be their rightful ruler, rather than me? Can I help it if my crack troops have designated themselves as "The Queen's Own" despite the fact that I have no queen? Damn it, woman, stop!

And then there's the exchequer. Katherine, I hate you. Did you really have to cut the tax rates again? Now my rate is only 2.5 percent! That is utterly ridiculous! Good grief, woman, most kingdoms have sales taxes double that and higher! And it's the only tax we have! (But we're swimming in money, anyway.) But you can't believe the flak I received at the last Reigning Monarchs' Convention! They accuse me of everything, but most particularly price-cutting against the wishes of the Kings' Cartel!

But back to the subject at hand: the palace ball last night. First, if I live to be 200 I will never forget the joy I felt when you introduced Tom and Betty Murphy as our guests of honor. With the exceptions only of you and Julia, Betty was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen! And having her appear in that backless gown, woman, was a stroke of pure inspiration. You have had her in the tanning machine to such a degree that it has lightened her hair to a shade of gold darker than Julia's but still gorgeous! And with her grey eyes, she is exquisite. And Tom Murphy, appearing in his full-dress uniform, could not have been more proud. And darling, when after making the introductions, Betty dropped to her knees to kiss and lick your feet you were unable to get her to stop. She finally did stop on her own, stood up, and took the microphone away from you. (A first, by the way!)

At that point Betty Murphy introduced herself and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am here tonight because of Katherine, Crown Princess — and probably Queen — of the kingdom of Texass, and Queen Designate of our own country."

Standing up as straight as she could — and with Betty that is very straight indeed — she continued, "My queen saved my life. I was a beast of burden. I was not even human. I did not utter a single word for more than five years! But then one day riders appeared at my master's farm. In just moments he had a great deal of money and I was being carried off on the back of a horse mounted ahead of the rider, Tom Murphy.

"Poor Tom!" Betty continued. "Here I was, a human mule, riding on horseback. (Have you ever heard of a mule riding a horse? I never have, but that's what I was doing. A mule riding on a horse!) If I remember, it had been years before when I was last able to immerse my whole body in water. I'm sure I stank to high heaven. Did this bother Tom? I'm certain that it did, but he never let on. He just held me tightly until we rejoined the rest of the patrol. Then I was in a cart with other just-freed female slaves.

"I was returned to the kingdom, arriving on Christmas eve. Then I came into the hands of Queen Katherine and Crown Princess Julia. And the rest, as they say, is history. Today I am Tom Murphy's wife. As yet we have no children. On the other hand," she continued with a thoughtful frown, "if a woman is fucked once, becomes pregnant, and delivers a baby in nine months, is it not reasonable to suppose that, if I am fucked at least five times a day, every day, I should be able to deliver much faster?" With the cutest grin I've ever seen she answered her own question: "I think so, too!"

Then the lovely woman turned toward Tom and raised her lips to him. Murphy took her face in his hands, tipped it, and then melted his lips to hers. My darling, at that instant those two were the two happiest people on the face of this earth! And, my darling, coming on the heels of the inhuman treatment she lived with for so many years, it is wonderful. As are you, my darling, for making it all happen.

When we made our appearance at the winter ball, I suppose it was an event. Wearing the ivory ball gown, with your deep tan, emerald eyes and auburn hair, you were utterly exquisite. As we dressed, when I put the white-gold and diamond collar on your neck, you were cute, noticing as you did that it had a small eyelet in back to which your leash could be attached. "Master, am I again going to be naked on my hands and knees fighting the dogs for table scraps?"

This brought a rueful grin to my face. That had not been one of my most inspired efforts, either. In fact, when I finally abandoned it, you had come so to dominate the animals — with the power of your love, I'll bet — that they would vie with one another to carry the finest pieces over to you. So much for treating you like a dog!

Finally, though, I brought out something you had never seen before. Julia was standing at your side watching. I had talked with her earlier and she had arranged your hair in a way that looked magnificent with the diamond-studded crown I carefully set on your head. You looked at yourself in the mirror for just an instant, then turned to me, raised your lips and murmured, "Thank you, my darling! It is truly lovely."

When I melted my lips to yours I could feel you melting your body to mine and even feel its warmth in spite of our intervening clothes.

Then I placed a golden tiara on Julia's head as well. The look on her face, darling, was priceless and adorable! "Oh, Daddy!" she exclaimed, "it's simply gorgeous!"

I grinned at her and replied, "Blame it on your mother, darling Julia! The more she cuts tax rates, the greater the revenues we take in. I have to do something with it, after all!" Then I looked at her more carefully, blinked, and then glared at you. "Katherine, what is happening to our daughter. She's only fifteen years old, but wearing a strapless gown? How can she keep it up?"

Damn it, woman! You have to stop this. There was the loveliest look in your eyes. Then you winked at me and said softly, "Darling, this is Julia, our daughter? The one who has no room of her own? The one who shares our bed, our bath ... Darling, she also sleeps naked in our bed. And darling, those are real tits holding up her dress. And they are really so neat! They are so wonderfully perky!"

I just shook my head and looked at our daughter, a vision in white and gold. Her dress was pure white which set off the smoothness of her golden tan, her brilliant blue eyes, her golden hair and the crimson of her lips. I took her in my arms and gently kissed her. Darling, I received possibly the finest kiss of my life at that instant. Our daughter melted her soft lips to mine. There was the flow of the purest love.

Easing away, she said softly, "Thank you, Daddy." Then tears came to the corner of her eyes and she added, "I love you so very, very much!" Then she quickly kissed me again. Katherine, are women born knowing how to turn a man into Jell-O? Or do you work at it?

Then there was a diffident knock at the door. Seeing Julia's eyes widen, I winked and went to open it. There I found a junior officer obviously so scared his teeth were almost chattering.

"William Morrison, Sire. Ensign in the Queen's Own ... excuse me, milord, your mounted infantry regiment."

Extending my hand I smiled — and I thought it was a very friendly smile, darling — and said, "Relax, Ensign Morrison. It is the Queen's Own Regiment and we both know it. Now come in. What brings you by tonight?"

What an all-galaxy stupid question that was! Here's a junior officer in his full-dress uniform and I have already seen our young daughter's eyes widen. Morrison was over six feet three with blue eyes and golden hair. A very handsome young man of about eighteen. But I had to ask...

"It was Her Majesty..." Morrison turned as red as a beet and started again, "Your lady, Sire..."

"Princess Katherine suggested that it would be very nice of you to volunteer to escort our daughter, the Crown Princess Julia to the Winter Ball. Is that about it?" With a relaxed sigh he acknowledged that it was. "Have you been introduced to our daughter, Ensign Morrison?" I asked.

"No, Sire, I have not yet had the honor," he whispered.

By now we were in the sitting room. You greeted him with your customary warmth and charm. I could see the lad literally melt in your presence. I wondered where Julia had disappeared to. I had expected her to be waiting in the sitting room, demonstrating again how ridiculously little I know about women! The door to our bedroom opened quietly and Julia appeared. At that instant Morrison jumped to his feet and snapped to attention. Julia was a vision!

"Ensign Morrison," I said quietly, "it is my great pleasure to present you to our daughter, Crown Princess Julia." Then to Julia, "Darling, this is Ensign William Morrison who is here to escort you to the ball."

When Julia took his hand and unleashed her sunshine smile, it was all over right there! Darling, do women have no sporting blood at all? What Julia did was unfair to the point of being nearly criminal! Shooting fish in a barrel? Our Julia? Don't be silly. Shooting is much too sporting for her. She drains the water and then drops in a grenade!

Is she finished? Julia? Ha! She goes up on tiptoes, puts her arms around his neck, kisses him lightly and says softly, "Ensign Morrison, thank you so very much for escorting me to the ball!" The poor guy was done! Darling, you don't even have to stick a fork in him. He is completely cooked! And it's all your fault!

But then my darling slave demonstrates that she does take pity on poor unfortunates once in a while. "Ensign Morrison," you say quietly, "as the honorary commanding officer of The Queen's Own, I have an order for you!"

Snapping to strict attention, the young man faces you and says, "Your wish is my command, Your Highness!"

"Thank you, Ensign Morrison," you acknowledged with a smile. "My command is for you to help maintain order and discipline in our household. I am sure you have learned in just the last few moments the extent to which the Crown Princess is a horrible flirt and a tease. It is my express command, Ensign, that if she does that one more time, you are to stop whatever you are doing and, regardless of where you may be, you are to put the Princess Julia over your knee and spank her ... hard! If she is wearing pants — she probably is not, but I'm not sure — be sure to pull them down before spanking her." Then with a warm grin you add, "If she is wearing pants, it will be a luscious lace bikini. You may keep it, Ensign, as a souvenir."

Snapping your fingers you continue, "Oh! And it should go without saying that you are authorized — No! Commanded! — to repeat as often as she misbehaves. And I can assure you, sir, you are the sole judge of what constitutes misbehavior in our daughter."

Then turning to Julia, you smiled warmly and said, "Darling, I do hope you received the message? Loud and clear?"

At this point my love for our darling daughter leaped. Julia went into your arms, kissed you full on your lips and said, "Thank you, beloved Mother!" When she turned toward Morrison there were tears in her eyes as she said, "You have just seen one reason why I worship the ground my mother walks on. Please call me Julia, or Julie, or..." With a lovely grin she concluded, "Really, I answer to anything. May ... may I please call you Bill?"

The young man just nodded. I don't think he was capable of speech at that instant. She continued, "And you have my permission to spank me also, Bill." Then with a dazzling smile she added, "And I am wearing a luscious white lace bikini for you to take away as a souvenir."

At the Ball, shortly after we appeared — and after Betty Murphy kissed your feet — we were in a receiving line. Why is it we can never have any fun at our own balls? Why must we be frozen in position greeting an endless procession of lesser nobles along with the burghers of the town? While I am woolgathering, I am snapped back to the present by a woman, just five feet tall and almost as wide, wearing the most garish gown I could imagine. Could this be Leila? Behind her is a dark-complected, handsome man. Gilbert?

I extend my hand and the woman gushes, "Leila Jones, your Majesty! I cannot tell you what a rare pleasure this is!" Turning to her escort she says, "And this is my escort, an old and dear friend, Gilbert Montague—"

This is all I need to hear. "Guards!" I shout. "Seize this man!"

Brandishing their halberds, four guards rush up and surround Gilbert. Now for the first time I can look around and do. My darling, the look in your eyes would kill. Never have I seen the green flames flashing from your eyes as they were then. Clearly, I had the right man.

But then I looked past you to Betty. My darling, her grey eyes showed the purest hatred. Then I heard her speaking in the strangest tone of voice, almost as if it were disembodied, saying, "We meet again, Gilbert."

While fixing him with the coldest stare imaginable she spoke to the rest of us: "Gilbert was the one who bought me at the slave auction. I was to be his experiment. Could a lovely young woman — I was very lovely at age seventeen — be made into a beast of burden? Although he was not my owner, Gilbert was my trainer. Milady, you remember my back was a mass of scar tissue when I was saved? Virtually all of the whip strokes that did that to me were administered by him!"

With a bitter little laugh she continued, "In fact, it was almost funny. I suppose it would have been were I not in such constant and excruciating agony. You see, my owner could not bear even to watch my punishment being inflicted. Just looking at me suffering made him sick! And it was all Gilbert..."

At that Betty just broke down. Tom Murphy was there to wrap his huge arms around her and hug her tightly to his chest. Although Tom, like me and most men, is utterly helpless in the presence of a woman's tears, instinctively he did the right thing, hugging his beloved wife close to protect her.

While he hugged Betty, he turned to me and asked, "Your Majesty, in lieu of any pay I may earn over the next year, I ask that I be given three hours alone with this ... this monster... ! who almost destroyed the nicest, sweetest, most beautiful, most loving woman that God in His wisdom ever created: my wife, Betty! Sire, I beg you... !"

"No, Tom! I'm terribly sorry," you interjected. "I understand, and appreciate your feelings. However, Tom, after the ball, Betty and I are going to have a competition. You see, while I agree completely with your appraisal, this is something that we will handle ourselves."