The Slave Princess

The Slave Princess
By: G. E. L.

I am the princess.
My face is the symbol of my country's beauty.
My body is the statue of my kingdom's luxury.
My skin is the fertility of my fathers' homeland.

I speak.
From my gracious words
flow succor unto my father's weary sheepfolds.

I sing.
With my tender melodies
I pour out mercies unto the hunted and the weak.

I walk.
And my humble tread
becomes gentle springs of sweet, abounding grace.

I am the princess.
Whose commands are heard by one hundred-thousand charging warriors.
Whose wrath and justice echo through the broken walls of ruined cities.
Whose wisdom determines the pleasures and the torments of my captives.
Whose judgment establishes allegiances and disbands unwanted enemies.

In my presence
are servants bowing low.
Their foreheads on the level of my heels.
Their obedient hearts honor me with one accord.

In her chamber
my mother praises me.
Her jeweled crown placed upon my head.
Her blessed kisses linger on my untainted cheeks.

By his throne
my father blesses me.
His golden seal adorns my dainty finger.
His love abiding with every intimate embrace.

I am the princess.
Pure and chaste and white in all my ways.
Beautiful and kind and free by day.
Surely not a damsel in need of saving.
And yet,
I wonder,
how many am I really fooling?

By day a princess.
By night a slave.
By light glowing with grace.
By darkness covered in shame.

Darkness.
Hallow, hush and haunted palace halls.
Defiled, dank and dirty torture dungeons.
Turrets strewed with tainted tapestries.
The dead decaying, decomposing,
descending down twisted stairwells.
Paintings pealing into fleshy phantoms.
Maids and mistresses mutilated.
Hags and harlots arm in arm
waltzing on the frozen mote.
Birth and beginning brought by sunlight.
Death and destruction kindled by darkness.
My majestic kingdom morphed
deformed into the nightmares that imprisons me.

I am the princess.
Indentured,
incapacitated, invaded.
Supine,
suppressed, stifled.
Lifeless,
listless, languid.
Broken,
bent, betrayed.

Exposed
White and pure;
my royal gowns torn ant stripped
swiftly descending down my body
swiftly falling around my feet.
Helpless.
Elegant and sleek;
my body collapsing on the ground
great force against my wrists
all strength and grace crushed.
Naked.
Rich and innocent;
lust caressing my alabaster flesh
prurience roughly racing across my chest
damp and dirty against my cheeks.
Powerless.
Smooth and fine;
my hair tangled and wrenched back
hot, dirty lips pressed against my nape
shoulders skinned with tongue and teeth.
Penetrated.
Harsh and hard;
cruel and heartless strokes invading me
terror and pain transforming into pleasure
screams and sobs melting into ecstasy.

I am the princess.
Stripped of one hundred-thousand charging warriors.
Incapable of wrath and justice.
Possessing no wisdom.
No judgment.

I am the princess.
Bounded by unbreakable curse.
And every morn
the hour of the sun arrives.
I rise to be blessed.
I am praised and worshiped.
And every eve
the same sun sets.
My Kingdom reverts to its enchantments.
The beast seeks lust and pleasure.
And I,
the slave,
submits.