Revolution Comes To Storyland

OK, perhaps I could have kept an eye on things better. I thought I was a benevolent ruler. My name doesn't matter anymore, now that I no longer have one. My story is one of the minor ones, I'm not Snow White, or Cinderella, or Rapunzel, or anyone REALLY famous. You probably read my story while passing time between chapters. Still, we are all in the same fix ...

"My how the mighty have fallen, have they not, "princess?"

He was Capano, a farmer who used to work the land that bordered my palace. Since the revolution, he's cobbled together a huge estate by buying up his neighbor's land and bullying into submission and possibly murdering others to make recalcitrant farm owners divest their property to him. Before, I never gave Capano more than a passing thought. When he supplied apples from his orchards, I made sure he received a fair amount of pies in exchange. Now I find he expected to be paid! As if my gold was fit for his purse! When the man known as Harsh Reality entered Storyland and began spreading his poison, he found fertile ground in the wicked heart of Capano and his ilk.

"THIS is what a revolution looks like little Miss perfect, in all of its wonderful glory! We have your palace, we have your land. We have all that precious gold you have been hoarding since once upon a time! For the first time your people breath free and labor for themselves. Men such as myself will make sure your kind never exploits us again." Capano was practically frothing at the mouth when he delivered that tirade. Political economy has never been my strong suit. I'd always believed that the feudal system simply WORKED. I never considered all the moving parts!

Behind Capano, a group of fat peasant women entered the room. I liked the looks of none of them!

Capano commanded, "Strip her! Clothe her in rags as befits her new station. Make VERY sure that she is not hiding any jewelry on her person. What you DO find on her you can divvy up among yourselves!"

With that, my tormentor exited the small room I was being held in. I don't like to think of what happened next. Those women were merciless! They stripped me naked. They tore off my beautiful long mauve gown and fought like spoiled children over the scraps. They tore away my bandeau, allowing them to feast their eyes on my ample and shapely bosom The disgusting women almost came to fisticuffs before one of them came away with my long silk stockings and garter. Lastly, I was compelled under threat of force, to withdraw my step-ins. The horrid creatures Inserted their fingers in places where a proper princess only admits a doctor's syringe! All the while they laughed at and mocked my discomfort. They broke up my string of pearls and tore the jewels from my crown. My signet ring was torn from my hand. My bracelets were divvied up like pirate booty. After they had had their sport, they clothed me in rags that barely concealed my intimacies. The foul, rough fabric smelled of animals and urine!

Capano re-entered the room. His eyes took a most unwelcome tour of my person.

"Rags for a tyrant! Now you are fit for trial!"

I cannot describe to you the disgust I felt at subsequent events. My hands were bound behind my back and I was marched, in my bare feet, to the courthouse. All along the way, crowds had gathered to hurl invective and rotten fruit at me! I refused to give them the satisfaction of reacting, even in the face of the blistering insults and gross rumors of my sexual proclivities! I recognized many of the people lining the streets. Some were craftsmen who supplied goods for my palace, others were villagers whom I sometimes conversed with in my role as head of state. I could not, of course, recall a single name. What royal gives more than a passing notice of those who toil for her? I knew the names of most of my servants but that was professional courtesy. They were permitted to call my "Your Highness" why would they want to know me as anything else?

I did not know what I had done to lose the adoration of my people, but I felt that this unpleasantness would be of only a limited duration. Naively, I clung to the belief that once my people came to their senses, order would be restored and things would be as they had always been ordained to be. I was disabused of that notion the moment that I spied Mister. Harsh Reality sitting in judgment of me. I was raised not to hate. "A princess may dislike but she must never hate." my mother stated to me from infancy. I made an exception for this vile human.

His cold blue-gray eyes stared at me levelly. His bland features were unreadable. His overt ordinariness and seemingly meek exterior belied the fact that the man was a mighty orator. From one end of Storyland to the other he had planted seeds of discontent and revolution. Some of my fellow royals had tried jailing this monster. In every case, coteries of his devotees stormed his prison and liberated him. With each jailbreak, he became more and more powerful, riding the wave of adulation and turning it into a weapon. Now all of Storyland was in tatters and flames. My heart fell into my stomach as I realized that the man I despised the most, and who certainly detested me, would render the sentence. I tried to summon a prayer, but God had been quite absent of late, at least from me.

The courtroom fell quiet as a tomb when the Mister Harsh Reality banged his gavel.

"So we finally meet, "princess" am I everything you expected?"

I shot him my most contemptuous glance. I'd be damned before I allowed myself to believe he wielded any real power.

The gray-bearded man simply laughed and instructed that the charges against me be entered into the record. Now I was sure this was an elaborate tasteless joke. I was accused of everything from stealing from the populace to enslaving the proletariat and extinguishing the labor movements to using my enchantments for personal gain. Not once did they mention the love I had for my people or the times when the palace was thrown open for lavish parties open to all! Some of the words used to impugn me were new to my mind, almost as if, the clerk were making things up out of whole cloth. It was all I could do to maintain my withering expression. At last, the torrent of words trailed off.

"The charges are entered into the record," stated Mister Harsh Reality. He gazed at the jury box and asked, "How does the jury find the defendant?"

The jury box was full of people dressed in the most ordinary of clothes. I recognized a farrier by his filthy apron and I recalled having met the man in the bloody apron of a butcher during one of my goodwill tours of the village. I recalled his last name began with the letter "J" The rest of the occupants of the jury box were fat matrons and callow youths. Not my sort at all. I continued to wonder what I had done wrong. Try as I might, I could find no reason for the enmity directed at me. I had been a perfectly delightful princess, ruling a perfectly delightful village. Did I not protect my village by having my wizard use his enchantments to keep the ogres at bay?

Where was my wizard anyway? I know he was old and not especially powerful but he had never failed to charm the populace. I really needed him now. My eyes darted about the courtroom. Scribes were busily recording the proceedings. Disgustingly, vendors were hawking peanuts to the crowd and horrifyingly, the chief knight of my castle sat to the right of Mister. Harsh Reality. He should be defending me!

An obese woman rose in the jury box, smiled evilly and yelled "Guilty!"

Loud conversations and cheers erupted all about the courtroom until Mister. Harsh Reality restored order with his gavel.

I wanted to wipe the smugness off hs bearded face as he smiled and stated, "Woman, note that you no longer have a title or a name. This court is perfectly within its rights to remove your head from your shoulders."

I gasped in disbelief as calls for my decapitation rebounded about the room.

Mister harsh Reality gaveled quiet once more and continued with, "HOWEVER, you would learn nothing from that experience and your value to the state would be transitory. Therefore, it is the order of this court that you be transported to the next village and sold into basest slavery! In the long years ahead, as you labor incessantly and spread your legs on command, you will appreciate the gravity of your crimes and realize the justness of this sentence. Court dismissed!"

I was numb with anger and fear, anger being foremost as I had not as yet understood the severity of my punishment. I cried, "I'll see you hang for this, Mister Reality!"

My adversary simply smiled and instructed that I be gagged and prepared for market. One of my knights, no I refuse to believe that it was one of my knights, it must have been some stranger in royal colors, produced a ball and a stout rope. My commands to be released died as the ball filled my mouth. Then this impudent man tore away my scanty rags, leaving me naked in a crowded courtroom! It was revolting! It was horrifying! Worse was the way the people laughed and stared and made comments about my person. A minstrel began playing and people started dancing jigs of joy as I was marched out of the courtroom and into the public square. A wagon with a cage affixed to it and a floor of straw waited in the slanting rays of sunset. For the first time, I wondered how long the rebellion against my rule had been brewing. Had I known ...

I was flung into the wagon and the door locked behind me. The wagon began rolling immediately. I tried to stand up as the wagon rattled over the cobblestones. I finally found my footing and turned to face my rapidly receding village. My last view of the only home I knew was a line of soldiers and citizens, half of which dropped their trousers, exposing their buttocks to me while the other half bid me farewell with the middle finger of each hand.

Night was falling as my wagon pulled to a stop in the adjoining village. A sign above the door read, "Simon's Wholesale Slaves." My eyes filled with tears as I was forced out of my cage at sword point. I was still gagged and my hands were still bound. A lean ferret-like man examined me carefully, even forcing his fingers into my cunny and my rear! He fondled my breasts and smelled my hair. I saw a large number of gold coins exchange hands and the ferret-like man led me into his place of business.

A rather tall and powerful appearing but not fat woman stood inside the door. The slave master, whom I assumed to be Simon, addressed her,

"I know it is late and that I normally don't take on new merchandise this late, but I think I can get a very nice price for this one. Clean her up honey, collar her and get her squared away. I'll have her branded in the morning. With any luck, I have doubled her price by tomorrow's sunset."

"You work too hard, darling," returned the woman.

"True, but then again I love my work." stated Simon.

The man turned leaving me with the woman. She was taller than me. She unsheathed a dagger from around her waist and waved the point under my chin.

"NOT ONE WORD OUT OF YOU, MISSY!" she stated in a most intimidating manner.

The rope holding the ball in my mask was cut, I spat out the ball and tried to catch my breath as the woman eyed me head to toe. After a long moment, the woman also cut the ropes binding my hands behind my back. The pain from the restored blood flow was quite painful and I emitted a soft gasp.

"My, you ARE a pretty one," she said at last. "I expect you'll be quite the hit in your owner's bed chamber." after a pause she pointed and stated, "Stand on those tiles."

Still numb from everything that had happened to me, I obeyed her command. The woman picked up a hose and turned on the water full blast. Immediately, I was drenched by a torrent of bitterly cold water. My flesh broke out in goose pimples and I screamed from the cold and force of the water. The rushing water knocked me over. While I was lying on the floor, the woman turned off the water. Before I could rise to my feet, however, she was upon me with something in her hand.

My eyes met hers. The dagger was back under my chin. With her other hand, the woman fastened something around my neck. With one motion, the woman closed the contraption. She laughed and rose to her full height. My hands went to my neck. With horror, I realized that a collar had been affixed around my long slender neck!

The woman guffawed and stated, "You won't get it off by tugging on it Missy. Get used to it, it is your new reality."

I stared at her coldly.

"It's too late in the day to bother with shaving you now. We can take care of that when you are branded. Let's get you dried off and find you a holding cell. There MAY be some biscuits left from dinner."

The towel was the only nice part of the day. It was large and soft and fresh smelling and I so hated to surrender it when ordered to do so. She led me into a long hallway lined with cages. The stench of human waste assailed my nostrils.

"Because we want to get the best price for you tomorrow, you get a cell to yourself. Use the bucket if you have need. Don't you dare let me catch you crapping or pissing on our floors!"

For the second time that day I was placed in a cage. There were the aforementioned bucket, a narrow cot, and very little room. The woman handed me a plate of stale biscuits smiled in a mocking manner and stated, "Enjoy your stay in Simon's wonderful vacation inn."

She exited with a bounce in her step and the room was plunged into darkness. For the first time, I became aware of the sounds of weeping and protest emanating from the darkness all about me. I may have been a princess, but that first night in the fetid darkness I cried as I had not done since I was a very young girl. Somehow, amid the horror, I tumbled off to sleep.

It was just past done when I awoke to the sound of banging. Hoping to find myself anywhere else, I opened my eyes slowly. Drat! I was still naked and in the slaver's cage. At last my eyes focused on the source of the sound, Ferret-like Simon was pounding on the bars of my cage with a pointed club. His charming wife stood off to one side and behind him were two titanic bruisers in matching uniforms. I made a move to shield my nakedness, realized it was pointless and allowed my arms to fall to my sides.

"Bit of housekeeping, pretty one. Have to get all our legal ducks in a row," stated Simon. "These gentlemen," he indicated the big bruisers, "Will make you comply if you become stubborn. I think we can both agree that you do not want that. Obey without hesitation and we can get you on the auction block and have you settled in your new home before nightfall."

"Do you know who I am?" I asked.

"Yes," replied Simon. "You are a very pretty slave girl who needs to be branded and shaved so that she can be sold and that is ALL you ARE. I care not what you were as a free woman and you should stop thinking of yourself as anything other than property. The faster you adjust to your new status the happier you will be."

"I am ..." Simon's club caught me across the belly, knocking all of the air out of my lungs and doubling me over.

"A naked slave girl!" finished Simon. "And if you say another word or delay me further, I'll silence your tongue forever with a white hot iron!"

As I struggled to regain my breath, the big bruisers grabbed me and dragged me out of the hallway, out the door and into the sunlight. A huge man in a black leather hood tended to a brazier from which extended metal rods. Next to him was a frame clearly designed to restrain humans!"

"No!" I cried and pleaded over and over. My pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. In short order, I was strapped to the frame suspended about half a meter off the ground.

The hooded man looked at me and then at Simon. "Kind of a shame to mar such a succulent ass cheek."

"Simon rolled his eyes and replied, "Spare me the commentary, Henry, just do what I pay you for."

The man in the hood laughed and then things got very quiet. The frame I was on rotated and the hooded man vanished from my view. I could not turn my head in the frame. Things remained quiet.

"SWEET MERCIFUL GOD!" I never knew there could be so much pain! I screamed long and hard and then screamed again when I realized that the smell of burnt flesh in the air was my own! I think I threw up and the world spun like a whirlwind for quite a while. When I returned to myself, I was still in the frame. Simon's wife spread some soothing salve on my brand, eliminating most of the pain.

"You did an excellent job, Henry," she stated to the hooded man, "It will leave a perfect white "S" which will only increase her value. Help yourself to an extra gold piece at the end of the day."

"Thank you, Ma'am." replied my assailant as though I were nothing and what he had done to me was no great thing.

Mrs. Simon continued to speak, "Let me get her shaved while she's still numb. Just as easy while she's in the frame."

The woman approached with some implements in her hand. "Missy, It is up to your eventual owner to decide if you have feminine fur or not. The law says we have to brand and shave all new slaves and we abide by the law, no matter who's issuing it. So far, the revolution has been very good to us."

I noted that Mrs. Simon had a hair trimmer. I tried to pull away from her, but of course, the frame held me fast. Simon's wife raised the trimmer over my female intimate parts. I wept a bit as I witnessed all of my lovely brown curls tumble to the sun filled ground. In short order, I was left with just the briefest of stubble coating my nether region. I heard a vaguely familiar sound and noted that Mrs. Simon was stropping a straight razor. She honed it to a fine point, caught my eyes with hers and said,

"Relax Missy, I've never so much as nicked a customer."

A coating of foamy soap was applied to my cunny and Simon's wife slowly, deliberately denuded every hair from my loins. She toweled me off and I spied a view I had not had since I was a much younger girl and one which I never expected to see again.

My frame was lowered to the ground. Dazed, scarred and depilated me tottered about on my trembling legs. Immediately my hands went to my shorn sex. It felt as strange as it looked. The big guys in uniforms picked me up bodily and carried me back into the structure where the Simon's weighed and measured me, entering all of the numbers in some sort of log book. My next stop was the communal holding cell. There were naked men and women in there, all shaved and branded like me. Being a good and obedient princess, I had never spied an entirely naked man before. Naturally, I had curiosity. Seeing my soldiers toil in the hot sun with their shirts off had an invigorating effect upon me. I wished there was an older woman who I could have confided in about the way I felt at those times. I felt uncomfortable broaching the subject with my nurses or tutor. The enchantments of my castle should have been enough for any princess but often they did not compensate for being an orphan. From time to time, supposedly handsome princes had visited me.

Not a single one of those "perfect" men held my interest for long. I found them boring. Some wanted to talk only of armaments or their finery. Others talked only of what would be expected of me were I to become their queen. Not a one of them seemed interested in the beautiful brown-haired woman inside the stunning gowns and not one of them made me wonder what they looked like without their shirts I reconciled myself to the fact that sometimes princesses take a very long time to find her prince. How long did Sleeping beauty spend in her glass coffin?

My eyes examined the naked form of a male slave stretched out on a bunk who had, somehow, drifted off to sleep. He was a young man about my age, with blonde hair and an attractive chin and fine nose. His chest below his collar was broad but hairless. He had thick muscles on his belly and his manhood reminded me of a sleeping snake. I wondered what it looked like with hair. I liked his legs and his fine strong hands. His eyes opened suddenly, revealing deep green eyes. I gasped in surprise and he winked and smiled at me. He laughed and eyed me appreciatively. For the first time ever, I did not feel disgusted at a man's inspection. He was about to speak when slave master Simon ordered us to be quiet and leave the cell as indicated to be brought to the auction block.