SSC 2004
Word Count: 497
Category: Period


The Forgotten Princess 
by Alex Birch

'What will they do to us?' she asked fearfully over and over again but
her sisters and brother were racked by sobs and her parents stood, their
hands clasped together, too numb to give an answer.

The door to the cellar was thrown open and 6 men in greatcoats and faded
fur hats burst into the room as all the girls screamed in fear.  She
looked up at the leader, a big man with a beard, and smiled with relief.

'Grigor!!' she cried recognising her former tutor but there was no
answering smile.  He nodded to his companions.  'You know what to do,
but leave this one to me!'  Without ceremony he grabbed her by the hair
and dragged her from the cellar squealing in fear and pain.  The door
slammed behind them as she was dragged up the cellar steps.

As they rounded the curve of the stairs, she heard a volley of shots
ring out from the cellar beneath and she began to cry.  At the sound of
her snivelling the man tightened his grip and hauled her roughly to the
top of the stairs and into a bedchamber.

'Unless you want to end up like them you will do as you're told,' he
shouted, pushing her towards the bed. 'Now get your drawers down!'

She cried out in terror for she was seventeen and a virgin.

'Please don't rape me! I'll do anything,' she pleaded through the tears.

The big man roared with laughter.

'Rape?' he sneered. 'A skinny little piece like you?  You should be so
lucky!!  That's what the others think. That I've brought you here for a
little fun before I kill you but you were always a good kid and I'll let
you live.' He paused and she cried with relief  'But you are arrogant
like the rest of them and need to be brought down a peg and I'm going to
brand your bare arse with my riding crop.  Now get those drawers down!'

She hastened to obey and on a sharp command bent low over the bed and
raised her dress.  Her face was blushing for she had never displayed her
bare bottom to any man before and to Grigor of all people. She felt a
tingle in her loins at the thought then screamed as the riding crop beat
its painful tattoo across her bottom thirty or forty times.  Eventually
the whipping stopped and he told her to rise.

'Take all those clothes off!' he ordered and she blushed but did so
obediently until she was naked in front of him, her modesty forgotten. 
He threw her a bag of peasant clothes and a cloak and ordered her to
dress, then gave her a purse full of money.

'This will get you out of the country,' he said 'Now hurry.  A horse
awaits you out back.'

'Thank you, Grigor,' she whispered 'But why are you letting me live? 
What if I tell?'

He smiled.  'Who will believe you, Anastasia, who will believe you?'