The Princess Chronicles

The Claiming of Beauty’s Innocence

         when i was young, i clearly remember how a wicked fairy placed the long-wished-for princess under a curse as her gift; on her sixteenth birthday she would prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die. the last of the three fairies, though unable to reverse the spell altered its effect. instead of dying she would fall asleep until her prince charming kisses her to awaken her from the spell. thus, the title the sleeping beauty. as with all other fairy tales, it had a happy ending, with Sleeping Beauty marrying her Prince Charming. an ending that we all grew up with, and tried to pattern our lives with — an impossible life of beauty, bounty and bliss. impossible, yes, but a happy ending nonetheless. 

i recently read "the claiming of sleeping beauty" by anne rice (writing as A.N. Roquelaure), and after 15 years of envying aurora for finding her prince even while she was sleeping, it shed a whole new light unto me. in her story, sleeping beauty was awakened by a feisty young prince. yes, she awoke in his kiss, but he is far from the prince charming we all knew. with his courage he claimed her and made her a sex slave. it is one of the strongest erotica novels i have ever read. no wonder that as early as page 3, sleeping beauty was raped by mr. prince. and this is no ordinary description, honey. it was a vivid, graphical narrative of how the prince took off her clothes with his sword while she was still sleeping, and forcefully thrusted his manhood to sleeping beauty’s femininity, pushing his way in while she was still asleep. she only awoke from her slumber when mr. prince kissed her as he climaxed. 

then the story went on, with bondage and sado-masochism as the theme. there were a lot of flesh exposed as the sex slaves wore nothing day and night, and a lot of pain and pleasure obtained from the castle’s extreme sexual acts. it was a sexual fantasy come true, granted by the fairy godmother of sex tales.

but this kind of reading is not exactly my thing. sure, i enjoy reading passion and sensuality in romance stories, but this one is just too much. i even thought twice if i want to move on reading it halfway through. each time i turn the page, sadism just becomes more intense. and i have a very low threshold for pain — physical or emotional. this story just got it all — all kinds of pain, that is.  then i realized, the story has just become repetitive towards the end, with no clear direction. it failed to climax to a full-blown, interesting story. the only climax you read is the one experienced by the characters during their sexual acts. it even failed to "entice" me to read the two other books in the series, "the punishment" and "the release". which supposedly narrates more sado-masochism for ms. beauty.

i don’t exactly know how to end this because i don’t know whether i will have a "climax" with this entry.  allow me then to let you in her novel with this:

"…he opened her mouth with his tongue and pinched her breast sharply.  He sucked on her lips, he drew the life out of her into himself, and feeling his seed explode within her, heard her cry out.  And then her blue eyes opened."

that, my dear, was how sleeping beauty awakened to the earthly passion of her prince charming.

–The End–

this was my therapy when my camera broke down on me during my grand summer vaca.. now i believe that things happen for a reason…

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RANDOMNESS

      the agony of waiting and anticipating is the worst time element ever invented by human emotions.

      idealism lives in an abstract dimension waiting yet to be deciphered in the realm of reality.

      if you care less about what other people say, you get less pain and worry.

      i hate it when my heart takes over my mind. i feel pretty dumb and stupid.

      the only way to achieve ultimate bliss is to perform suicide amidst the world’s adversities.

      a pretty face is exactly what you need to earn respect with ease.

      the world is ever changing, and so are the people around you.

      paranoia sets the boundary of trust.

      sometimes, i wish i had grown up with the Western culture–where nobody’s dependent at 18, where nobody’s graduated from high school at 16, and where nobody’s a virgin at 14.

      sex shouldn’t be treated as a sacred act; it’s an art performed by two bodies sharing a mutual passionate lust.

      chastity is a piece of crap. it’s a violation of the biological urges sent by man’s complex emotion.

      men’s brain rests between their legs.

      men are nothing but a flirtatious demon wrapped in angelic packages.

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haha… i wish!!

     ..:: mood inspired by Natasha Bedingfield’s these words ::..