Into The Goodnight Ch 04

Dear Readers

Welcome to the conclusion of our princess' transformation journey. Thank you to everyone who took the time to comment and vote on the previous chapters. I enjoy and appreciate all you have to say.

A great big thanks to AlreadyTaken for all her editing and insightful feedback. Her time and effort truly challenge me to be a better writer, so she deserves a special thanks beyond catching my typing mistakes. And as a side note for the editing...one reason I'm a little late in getting this last chapter out is because I extensively rewrote the last portion of this per the advice of my editor. And therefore, any typos are directly my fault as I didn't resubmit it to my very busy friend. So please forgive me any errors you find.

Enjoy and comment and vote!

XO

Titania

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" Tell them dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, then beauty is its own excuse for being."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

And so it was that the following night when darkness had descended bringing the gift of obscurity, two cloaked figures scurried unseen down narrow streets and slivers of alleyways. Maks had intentionally led Aurelia in the opposite direction of the pleasure tents, the idea being that when they made their way to them, they would approach from a different direction than their neighborhood, aiding in concealing their identity.

Per his instructions, Aurelia had fashioned two masks during the day from the black silk of one of the gowns she had yet to wear. Though she was remiss to ruin such a fine dress, the thought of wearing the mask so Maks could pleasure her in public brought about an unexpected excitement such that she felt near-giddy waiting for nightfall. Maks seemed quite pleased with her work, and when he donned his mask—a large section of black fabric that covered the top of his head, had two holes cut out for the eyes and tied at the back, causing a sinister effect—she could feel her arousal building.

Whether it was the building excitement or the long walk to the outside of the town, Aurelia's breath came in near pants as they ascended the grassy hill. Aurelia could hear the pleasure tents before she saw them. Intimate murmurs suggesting sensuous liaisons and tinkling drunk laughter, as one might imagine the mirth of fairies at a hedonistic forest fete. She felt a thousand butterflies take wing in her stomach, her breath speeding as they ascended the small knoll to the white tents and burning torches.

As they made their way through the small crowd, Aurelia took in all there was to see. Though the purpose of this market was evident enough, she was surprised that it wasn't more flagrant than it was. On either sides of a midway were two long rows of white tents facing each other and a larger main tent at the far end. The grounds were illuminated by torches standing high on tall poles, offering up oily smoke into the night sky. There was music drifting through the crowd, like an unseen pic-pocket, but instead of stealing coins it left behind an atmosphere of merriment.

At a few of the small tents on either side were men standing next to women, shouting to draw onlookers. Most of the woman were in exceedingly minimal clothing, some only a corset and skirt altered to show a vastness of leg. Small groups of spectators gathered, each taking turns to ask questions or make highly suggestive comments. Some of the women enjoyed the attention, she noticed, while others appeared only to endure it. Aurelia was so engrossed with her study of the place no decent person should go, she didn't realize her husband had stopped, and ran into the back of him.

Evidently, Maks had found the man who was master of the dealings, and in low, murmured voices, they conducted business. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she could sense when the topic turned to her specifically. Maks, posture tensing but a moment, stepped aside for Aurelia to see. Or, more accurately, to be seen.

"Let's see your figure then, girl," he said, not necessarily leering, more business-like. But his imperious tone stiffened her spine and raised her chin. The man chuckled. "Got a bee under that mask? Or up your skirt?" he teased crudely. After his short chuckle, which did nothing to cool her temper, he asked again. "Come on, then, haven't got all night," he instructed in a strange, slovenly sort of way that shortened his words, leaving off the hard endings.

She raised an eyebrow, and though she finally did as told, her manner made it clear that she did it of her own will, and not because of him. Aurelia flicked back the edges of her very fine cloak, revealing for the first time the gown she had chosen to wear. It wasn't anything as skin-revealing as the other women, but it certainly hugged every contour of her perfect form. Her chin notched another inch. The man whistled low, obviously impressed.

After taking in his fill, his eyes shifted to Maks, simultaneous congratulating him as a lucky bastard while asking if he was certain he wanted to

share

such a gift.

"The terms," Maks steered the conversation.

The man eyed Aurelia again before answering. "Half."

She gasped, infuriated. "Half! I think not," she refused. The man chuckled. "That's a little high, don't you think? After all, you're not the one doing anything," Aurelia argued, her arms crossing, a scowl shifting her brows.

"Well, now see, that's not true. I'm the one what puts up these here tents. Hard labor that is. And pays the taxes on it, too. The accountin' ain't all that easy."

Her eyes narrowed in ill-humor. "I'm sorry you have chosen a line of work for which your little brain is ill-equipped, but that does not mean you can make up for it by robbing the performers."

"Aurelia," Maks hissed, but any power of his rebuke was lost in the big man's booming laugh.

"Oi! Feisty and proud! I like that." He looked at Maks. "Sure you can handle this one, lad? She's a bit too much woman for just any man."

Though it couldn't be seen under his mask, Maks raised an eyebrow, knowing only too well what trouble his princess was.

"Make it ten percent, or is that too difficult for you to figure," Aurelia questioned.

The man continued chuckling. "A quarter, and that's as low as I'll go. And that's a fairer deal than I give any of the other'ns here, so don't go blabbin'. A quarter and you have yourself a deal," he said, offering his hand to Maks to seal the deal.

In the end, the man, being wise about his business, gave them the largest tent he had to spare, knowing the golden beauty with the flashing green eyes and figure of a goddess would draw quite a crowd. Aurelia found her reaction mixed as the men, even a few women, gathered around her. Old lingering revulsions along with fear and embarrassment rolled almost nauseatingly with excitement. But the princess hid it well, as in the way of the show, she flicked off her cloak and stood regally before all the onlookers, drawing them with a touch of mystery.

Aurelia's allure was as potent as magic, attracting them with a combination of her mask, her striking beauty no matter how well hidden, and her singular comportment. The black mask obscured her identity but left enough of her face bare to hint at great beauty. The concealment became all the more intriguing when coupled with her demeanor, which was conspicuously non-flirtatious. Unlike the others on display, she didn't make sultry looks with the customers, wiggle her shoulders and hips, or lift the hem of her skirt for a shocking view of ankle. But neither was she stiff or shying, attempting to hide from lecherous eyes. She instead stood with a regal confidence, unmistakably elegant with only the purest air of sensuality. A woman no man could resist.

As predicted by the shrewd manager, the crowd that gathered before their tent was the largest, and when the unseen music changed in tone set of chords, everyone seemed to take that as their cue to choose a booth and pay the dues. Maks held open the coin purse, Aurelia trying to control her breathing as she looked at nothing in that distant, thoughtful way of royals. The chink and chatter of the money soon became a near constant clatter, and though she had tried to count how many coins were dropped, she eventually lost count.

Maks had explained the proceedings to her, informing her how they would be at the far back of their tent with a white veil between them and the viewers. When they were set to begin, he would light a lantern and ladle water onto the veil, the light behind them causing the wet screen to become transparent enough for the onlookers to see just a touch more than silhouettes. And when the veil had dried out, their duty would be done.

But now as he took her by the elbow and led her quietly to the back entrance of the tents, the murmurs of the customers filling the dark inside caused her heart to beat rapidly and make her near to fainting. She was losing her courage.

"I don't think I can do this," she whispered as they crept along the back side of the tents.

His voice was a warm breath in her ear. "You don't have to, bud. But if you are brave enough, you may just discover something new about yourself. And I think you are brave enough for anything." The confidence in his erotic promise clinched it, and with a fortifying exhale she allowed him to lead her along.

It was dark, just the faint glow from the torches coming in from the other side of the tents, but it was enough for Aurelia to make out her surroundings, including the narrow table that was higher than normal. The hefty poles that held up the fabric of the tents also had several large hooks attached to them overhead. Aurelia couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister happened here.

While she took in everything there was to see in the poor lighting, Maks quickly set their things up, laying a sheet down on the table as though it were a bed and then pulling rope from the sack he carried. Keeping his voice to a soft whisper, he instructed her to remove her mask and slip out of her gown, but to leave the cloak on. Her stomach rolled, but with fumbling fingers, she complied. And in her jittery state, she chastised herself for ever thinking this was a good idea.

When he was set, he positioned her so her profile would be cast onto the veil when he lit the candle. The seconds were ticking down, drawing them closer and closer. Her eyes closed as she waited, hearing Maks dip the large ladle into the bucket and draw out the water. Despite her apprehension, never had the small splish-splash of water sounded so erotically promising. The sound took her back to her first night in her little home, the sound of Maks standing suddenly from the water, his powerful form revealed.

It required several full ladles to completely wet the screen before he went to the very back of their small little space and at last lit the candle, beginning the show. Aurelia could sense the smallest warmth of light creep in through her eyelids, her lip worried between her teeth.

Her hands clenched at her sides as the murmurs from the other side of the veil grew. Aurelia was accustomed to being desired, even lusted for, but this was something entirely different. Her body ached for his touch, but her stomach burned with dread. The contradicting arousal and nausea buoyed her from one uncertain crest to another until she felt she would splinter under the great weight of the tension. Her breath held as Maks approached from behind. Fingers were at the ties of her throat. Her breath stilled as she felt the weighty material of the cape slide from her shoulders and back, cool air rushing in over her sensitive skin, her nipples hardening in response.

Groans echoed from the other side of the curtain.

Aurelia's eyes opened, the small space revealed. Maks leaned forward to whisper in her ear before tying a blindfold around her eyes; the crowd would take part in her subjugation as she was once more submerged in darkness. Maks began by feathering caresses over her skin, some in sexual places, like the tips of her breasts, and in some not so sexual places, like the backs of her knees or the inside of a wrist.

Besides the general detailing of how the pleasure tents worked, Maks had informed Aurelia, though not exactly what he would do, that she would be safe with him. He promised to be supremely patient with her if she was struggling with what he would do, and that she pleased him immensely just by attempting to allow him the right to do as he wished to her in public.

She wasn't certain if that made her feel better or worse. After all, what could he do to her that she might be afraid of—that she would need assurances that no matter how it felt she was safe? And to make matters worse, he hadn't allowed her to see what he packed in his little bag aside from the rope. The mystery billowed and bloomed in her mind until she thought she'd faint from the anticipation.

Maks was in front of her, binding her wrists together with a soft material. Something rougher—perhaps the rope—was threaded through so her bound wrists were tethered to it, and then they were being dragged upward, Maks clearly having looped the rope through one of the hooks overhead. As a result, Aurelia was stretched tall, her hands pulled high above her to the point she felt a little weight lift from her feet.

What would he do to her in this position, she wondered, her heart beat continuing its furious pace.

With her vision taken from her, she leaned heavily on her other senses. On the sound of Maks retrieving something from a few feet away. On the smell of damp earth and mild sweat and her lavender scented soap she had used earlier that evening. On the feel of his warm body as he leaned in to remind her that she was safe, that she could tolerate whatever happened. On the sensation of something new, something a little rougher than his hands caress the soft places of her body. Her mind worked hard to process the sensations, to analyze that it was rougher than skin, but not scratchy, firm but not hard, cool like leather.

And it was because her mind was open to process all these many different sensations that the first strike of the whip across her backside was so shocking. Aurelia gasped loudly, her mind stunned immobile as it braced itself for unbearable pain.

Though the strike had stung greatly, her brain was able to take each tiny package of sensation and process it, and she realized it wasn't so bad. Just a sting. Far less than when he had punished her that time. And with that realization, she thought she might be able to bear the ordeal with some amount of dignity. Her face relaxed to just the mildest of disgruntled expressions, apprehensive but...okay.

Apparently Maks had been studying her closely, for as soon as she visibly relaxed, he landed another blow, this time on the outside of her hip. She sucked in another sharp breath through clenched teeth, her eyes squeezed tight behind the blindfold. After three or four pants, when she seemed to regain some control, he gave another and then another. With each one, the time he paused in order for her to recover seemed to shorten until he was peppering her skin at a slow, but steady pace with whatever instrument he had chosen.

At length, Maks began to gradually shift the locations of the light blows, leaving behind in their wake a slow burn. When he finally moved to the fronts of her thighs, she gave a squeal or two as she discovered how much more sensitive she was there. He slowly worked his way up her body, until he was raining down gentle blows to her breasts. Her nipples ached to the point she thought they would burst with blood.

She was whimpering constantly now, a near-cry here and there when the ache became a little too much. And during it all, Aurelia swam in delicious pain. It swirled through her veins, filled her senses, and so when Maks dragged the tip of whatever whip he used down her quivering torso, over the angle of her hip and down to the crease of her sex, she mindlessly parted her thighs.

She groaned in pleasure as he finally touched her folds, aching with arousal. Her brow furrowed, wondering when that had happened and how she hadn't noticed how wet she'd become from the swatting. Maks teased her with a few strokes, rubbing her crotch until the growing pleasure was all she thought of, the sting of his light whipping merely a warmth she now floated in. When she moaned in pleasure, she heard Maks give that cruel little chuckle and then he pulled away from her. Had they been at home, she might have objected, but she was reminded of where she was and how many eyes were watching. She kept her protest to herself.

The line holding her hands taut above her head loosened until she was able to bring them down in front of her. Silently, with no encouragement other than the warmth of his hands, which against her recently whipped skin felt like palms of burning coals, Maks guided her to walk to the end of the tall bed. She felt its edge hit her just above her mound. Her hands rested on its surface until suddenly, just as before, she felt them being tugged by the rope, this time pulling her forward across the table until she had no choice but to bend at the hips and rest her upper body on its firm surface. She could only imagine her posture in silhouette for the crowd. She debated trying to fight her blush, but then wondered why bother? They couldn't see her skin enough to see her embarrassment.

Satisfied that she was secured, Maks traced a hand down her back, suddenly filling her mind with only the feel of those sensual fingers caressing her. But those hands were capable of much, and without warning, a hand came down and smacked her bottom. Aurelia yelped in surprise; this was harder than before, more reminiscent of punishment than of teasing pleasure. He targeted both globes of her butt, alternating them and bringing the playful warmth to near-punishing heat. Aurelia gritted her teeth against the building pain.

"Your legs, spread them," he commanded harshly. When she didn't comply quickly enough, he slapped her bottom again. Hard. Gritting her teeth, she groaned in pain as tears sprung to her eyes, but he showed no remorse for her discomfort. "Now." When her thighs were spread, he resumed swatting her, though now with her sex more exposed. His hand worked farther down her body until his fingers were striking her swollen labia. Here, the blows weren't as painful as they were on her actual buttocks, but were like bolts of lightning, sending little shards of pleasure through her. Again, Aurelia found it near impossible to remain silent, and though she bit her lip to smother her cries, she wasn't able to stop the whimpers of need with each bright strike. She began shifting her weight from one foot to another, her hips angled out further and further to open herself up to his assault.

"P-please," she moaned before biting her lip, knowing she wasn't supposed to talk.

"Hm?" he questioned just as quietly. "What did you need, little slave?" She gave a whimpering cry. "Something like this?" he growled, his tone so low it only sounded like erotic murmuring to the entranced crowd on the other side of the divider.

He plunged three fingers inside her, the sudden thickness a shock to her tight passage, which clamped down on the invaders. Maks gave three slow strokes, knowing he was hitting the little place that kindled her fire, before pulling out and continuing on with the spanking. He returned every few slaps, stroking in and out, making the sounds of her tunnel wetter and louder. But knowing her body as well as he did, he stopped just as she was nearing her orgasm, pulling his fingers from her flooded center with a lewd sloppiness that seemed to fill the small room. Mortification and need were a chaotic wash over her. By this time, they had been at it for nearly half an hour, and Maks knew the transparency of the wet veil wouldn't last forever.