“Ah, my dearest Augustine…all is gone, gone, gone.”

I sang those words with my whole soul, because they told my true story. All was gone, gone, gone indeed, and I had only myself to blame.

How could I have been so foolish and wicked? When a Handsome Prince had come courting me with the precious offerings of a nightingale and rose, I had rejected them both, because Nature had created them.

But when he had dressed himself as a swineherd and tempted me with a man-made mechanical music box, I had fallen in love…with both his gift and him.

For that reason, I had agreed to give him 100 kisses in payment for his invention. My father had caught us and driven us away. Then the prince had revealed himself in all his fine garments, leaving me to bow in total submission before him.

This time, he had rightfully spurned and despised me. What’s more, he had proven it, by stalking into his castle and ordering the gates locked against me. Now I was left with nothing…

Except the song that his music box had played for me.

That thought kept coming back to me, as I kept singing the same sad tune helplessly, time after time. The last three words came dragging out as a hopeless, lost lament.

They made me feel even sadder than ever…and guiltier, too. But what could I do but stand here outside the castle walls, singing until I starved to death? I was sure to do that long before spring and summer ended and I perished from the cold. Every man’s hand was truly against me now.

At the very worst, I would be ravished that night, and I could not blame the men who did it. Hadn’t my beauty lured on the Prince, before he had realized how wicked I really was? My appearance was my greatest danger now.

It had attracted other men, too…my cloud of curly brown hair, my sleepy brown eyes, my full pouting lips and my softly curved form.

So my maids had assured me, until I believed it all. But this vanity had led to my downfall, by convincing me that any man would want me, no matter what I did to him…yes, even if I preferred a mechanical music box to a natural rose.

Thinking of this, the tears fell down my soft pink cheeks as I sang, again and again, “all is gone, gone, gone.”

Then I was startled into silence, as a silver coin flashed through the air and fell at my feet.

“Thank you, sir,” I exclaimed, as I bent to pick up the two-kroner piece before he could change his mind and snatch it back again. He rode on as though he had not heard me.

A group of travelers must have seen him, because they also tossed me coins. As they rode by, I quickly counted the money they had given me.

With a flash of pride that showed me, once again, my sinful nature, I realized that I had earned that money by my own efforts. What’s more, it was enough to buy a dinner and a bed for the night at the nearby Syddanmark Inn.

I had heard my maids whispering often enough about it, so I knew it was not the sort of place where any decent girl could go. But then, my father, the King and my suitor, the Prince had both agreed that I was not decent any more.

My only other choice was to risk my life in the darkness. So thrusting the coins into my pocket, I walked towards the place where I hoped to spend the evening. On the following day, I would come out here again, hoping to earn another night’s lodging. My prospects were indeed dismal, but not quite as hopeless as before.

* * *

As I drew near the inn, I heard musicians playing inside, followed by a smattering of applause. This gave me another idea.

By the time I reached the low wooden door, the music had stopped and the owner was announcing the next entertainer.

“And now…get ready to be amazed,” he proclaimed. “The future will appear before you in the words of our next performing artist. You heard her grandmother’s story as reported by the Brothers Grimm. Now meet that lady’s direct descendant…the famous…the fabulous…the fantastic…Clever Elsie!”

The clapping was louder this time. In the dim light of the candles suspended from the sooty ceiling beams, I could see why the men were applauding. A buxom girl with long blond braids had replaced the musicians in the center of the room.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” she said, with a low bow, revealing the ample bosom that pressed against her bodice.

“And you…” turning suddenly towards a corner, she pointed dramatically at a man who sat there. He was startled enough to drop his beer stein back onto the table with a loud thud.

“Why are you hiding back there?” she demanded. “Could it be that you have not sold enough gloves today?”

As the man gasped in amazement, the audience broke into applause again. “Now you see for yourself why she is known as Clever Elsie!” the manager crowed.

But how clever did she need to be? I wondered. The man was wearing embroidered gloves, much finer than the rest of his garments. What’s more, those gloved hands were clutching a beer stein, with no food beside it, even though platters of sausage, potatoes and cabbage covered the other tables. Did it take a fortuneteller to figure out that he was a glove salesman down on his luck?

But his luck was not all bad, thanks to her.

“His poor fortune is your good luck though, gentlemen,” she told her listeners. “The man who purchases from him will be fortunate indeed, because he will obtain this rich merchandise at half its normal cost. Am I correct, sir?”

“You are indeed!” the glove merchant answered, beaming happily now.

“And you!” she cried, wheeling in my direction. Once again, her finger pointed an accusation as she exclaimed, “You are the swineherd’s princess, who refused a prince’s natural rose in favor of a mechanical music box.”

A chorus of catcalls greeted her words, leaving me bowing my head in shame. Clearly, the story had already spread through all of Panscandia.

But then, once again, how much talent did she really need to realize who I was, I asked myself. Who else would come here, to this place at night, in the gossamer pink robes of a royal lady?

“And I will wager she wants a job here!” Elsie crowed, even more triumphantly.

The owner soon added to my well-earned shame. “Well, she will not find one!” he exclaimed. “Listen to how these men are taunting her!” Indeed, his shout could barely be heard over the cries of contempt.

In the din, I could barely make out Clever Elsie’s softer reply. “But I predict they will change their minds once they have heard her sing.”

In a much more practical tone, she added, “Besides, you won’t have to pay her anything. She will live on the coins your customers give her, just as I do, and then she will have to give most of them back to you anyway, for her room and board.”

For a long moment, I waited, wondering if he would listen to his famous fortuneteller or obey his angry crowd. At last, he shrugged.

“Very well, then,” he said. “We will let her try one song, to see if it can win you gentlemen over.” And he pulled me into the center of the room.

“Will you hum the melody for the musicians first?” he asked me.

“No musicians,” she decided. “Her tune will be much sadder if she sings it all alone.”

That seemed strange to me, but I had already learned to trust in Elsie’s cleverness. Once again, she was soon proven right.

With no music playing behind me, the chorus of booing all but drowned out my high, piping voice. That made me sound even more pitiful, as I moaned that all was gone, gone, gone. After a few moments, the crowd fell silent.

Peering past the flickering candles, I saw to my amazement that some of the men were quietly weeping. No doubt I had reminded them of all the good and precious things in their own lives, which were now gone, gone, gone, leaving them in this wretched place, listening to that dismal tune.

When one of them yelled an insult against me, the others drowned him out. “Let her sing!” they cried. “Shut up and let her finish her song!”

The hall fell silent once again, as I let my song trail away. Looking into the customers’ tearful faces, I knew they were a greater complement than the loudest applause could have been.

When my song finally ended, I felt Elsie pushing me towards them. “Go on!” she whispered urgently. “Go collect your kroner from the audience, before they change their minds.”

“What about you?” I murmured in reply.

“I will get my share,” she assured me, with a shrug of her plump shoulders. “I do best when the show is over, by telling fortunes privately…and doing other things in private, of course.”

“Other things?” I asked suspiciously.

“Pleasing the customers in other ways.” Seeing my shocked expression, she went on, “Of course, the owner will take most of the coins you earn that way, too.”

There was no need to ask her what those other things might be. I had overheard my servants discussing them openly enough, when they did not know I was listening. I shuddered for a moment, then I shrugged off my dismay.

That very afternoon, I had disgraced myself so thoroughly that nothing could degrade me any further.

The men were already reaching slowly into their pockets, obviously wondering how much payment would be fair. Their hands froze at my next words.

“Thank you for your kindness, gentlemen,” I told them. “I know I must entertain you now in other ways.” Cries of appreciation greeted my little speech, but I ignored them as I went on, “I hope you will do it in the way I deserve…by punishing me for my crimes.”

I was answered by cheering, as some of the customers dug into their purses eagerly.

“Well, does she have a job here?” Elsie asked the owner.

“For as long as she likes!” he assured her fervently. “And so will you, my clever, clever Elsie.”

* * *

Much later, she wrote to tell me how she had replied.

“How clever did I have to be?” she demanded, with a shrug. “Men have asked me often enough to satisfy those special desires in that strange way. But unlike the Swineherd’s Princess, I feel no need to do it.”

“You do not feel she deserves her punishment, for the way she treated her prince?”

“Actually,” she responded, in a more gentle, thoughtful tone. “I think that her prince is a miserable, worthless, heartless, smug, self-righteous son-of-a-bitching bastard, like every other man who seduces a woman and then despises her for giving in. The only difference is, he persuaded her to give him kisses instead of something more.”

”I just hope you won’t tell her so!” the owner retorted quickly. “I’d lose the money her customers are lining up to pay her, if she no longer believes she has earned her suffering. As it is, there will be plenty of silver for me, even after she gets her share.”

“You had better feed her first,” Elsie replied. “It must be a long time since she has eaten. If she does not get something soon, she will be so hungry, she won’t be able to feel her shame or anything else in the world.”

 * * *

Judging by the way the men were lining up for my services my share was sure to be very large indeed. Beyond them, I could see one of the tavern customers walking out the door. He was the first man who had thrown a coin to me.

“Sir, I am sorry you are leaving,” I cried. “You were the first gentleman who showed me kindness, and I would welcome a chance to please you.”

“You have pleased me enough with your music,” he called back. “That should be enough for any decent person. So Ulrich Hansen will go seek lodgings where such men are welcome.”

Some of my clients shouted insults at him, leaving me to fear that a drunken brawl would end my new career before it had even begun. Quickly, I exclaimed, “Sir, you are wrong. These gentlemen wish only to treat me as I deserve.”

“Then I wish you both pleasure of each other,” he said softly, as he closed the door behind him.

A few of the men seemed ashamed enough to follow Hansen’s lead. Seeing this, the innkeeper quickly stepped forward.

“Even without that prudish fellow, there will be no rest for this young lady tonight!” he roared. “As soon she has fed herself, she will wait for you in her bedroom, which is the second down the hall.” That made them cheer again, as he handed me the leftovers from Hansen’s empty table. I gratefully gulped them down.

“The first room belongs to me,” Clever Elsie reminded them as I ate and drank. “So you other gentlemen will know where to wait for my more simple entertainment.” She winked broadly, to let them know what kind of diversions she had in mind.

More softly, she added, “Of course, once her new clients are done with her, they might have even more desire to visit me as well.”

“Just give our Princess a chance to prepare herself,” the owner put in. His customers muttered in disappointment as I walked upstairs and entered my new home.

That morning, I would have scorned to even enter such a place. Beneath the low wooden roof, the narrow bed with its patched quilt would not have done for one of my maidservants.

But then, again, did I deserve any more? Thinking of that, I used the chamber pot beside the bed and splashed my face with water from the basin on the wooden nightstand. Then I glanced into the cracked mirror above the armless chair and decided I was as ready as I would ever be.

I no longer felt so sure of that, when I opened the door to see the line that stretched all the way to the stairs. In sheer terror, I started to pull the door shut again, when the innkeeper stopped me.

“What is the matter?” he demanded. “I thought you were ready to accept your punishment at these gentlemen’s hands.” They growled their agreement.

“But there are so many of them!” I wailed, tears welling up in my eyes. “They could do me a terrible injury, and how could I ever entertain anyone else if they did?”

I could almost see the wheels turning inside his brain, like the ones that ran a clock. After a moment, he nodded his grey head and put his chubby arm around me in a fatherly way.

“No fear of that,” he told me. “We will only allow ten clients per night, at one silver kroner each, and every man can give you only ten smacks with his bare hand.”

Hearing their disappointed mutterings, he added hastily, “You do not want to frighten her away, do you? This arrangement will benefit us all.”

“It will certainly benefit you,” Clever Elsie crowed cheerfully, peering out from among her own circle of admirers. “You will have crowds coming here over many months this way. It will make you a fortune…which I expect you will share with our Princess, half and half.”

“Half for me and a quarter for her!” he retorted. “After all, I must feed and clothe her and pay the servants who clean her rooms.”

Silently, I looked at my clever friend for guidance. “Two thirds for you and a third for her,” she decided. “Of course, if that seems unfair to you, there are always other inns…”

“It sounds perfectly reasonable!” he quickly assured her. Raising his voice, he added, “I would never want to cheat this innocent young thing, who is selling her services for the first time.” Those last words excited the customers even more.

“So,” he added, turning to me, with a fatherly pat on my head. “So now you are ready for your first visitor. The others, of course, will wait their turn outside.”

This caused more snarls of disappointment. “We all wanted to watch,” sulked the hulking man who was first in line.

“That would not be proper!” the innkeeper cried, in a great show of dismay. “She has her modesty to preserve. You must not even bare her backside, for the same reason. After all, she IS a princess and completely new to this business!”

“She is a fine singer, too,” Elsie put in. “Naturally, you will pay her for her musical talents as well, at the same rate.”

“Naturally,” he answered reluctantly. “Now, my Princess, your admirers are waiting.”

They did not wait long. At his words, the first man in line almost leapt into my room, slamming the door behind him with his ham-like fist.

“Well?” he demanded, his dark eyes glittering beneath his greasy black mop of hair. “Do you want me to turn you across my lap, or would you rather kneel over the chair back?”

“Surely this is your decision,” I answered, my head humbly lowered.

His eyes gleamed even more brightly as he said, “Over my knee, then.” Sitting on my bed, he patted his lap in a frightening invitation.

I had never been spanked before…which was, no doubt, the main reason why I had grown up so badly. When the other children told me of their punishments, they had sounded vaguely amusing. They all seemed deadly serious now.

As I lay obediently across his lap, clutching the bedpost for support, I assured myself that this could not be too bad, since children suffered it so often. I closed my eyes as he raised my skirt, exposing my pink pantaloons to his hard, rough hand.

When that palm first struck me, I heard myself screaming, in both shock and pain. Never had I expected it to hurt this much…like a burst of flame.

And I still had 99 strokes left to go! At that thought, I could not stop myself from struggling desperately to escape, until he clamped his hand firmly on my back, holding me down.

As the blows fell, again and again, I wondered how I could ever stand all ten from this one customer, let alone 90 more, on this one night…and the same again for who knew how many nights to come?

I burst into tears at the thought. This seemed to excite him even more, as his blows came faster and harder.

“I hope that weeping comes from your heart,” he told me sternly. “That will show me you are sorry for being such a bad, bad girl!”

Lowering his voice to a murmur, he went on, “I always wanted to do this to a bad girl like you. Of course, I could only dream that she would be a princess and not a common farmer like myself. But if a real princess has come to this, it only shows how bad you really are.”

He was right, I thought in misery. I did indeed deserve every one of those 100 spanks each evening. Had I not agreed to pay the swineherd 100 kisses for that accursed mechanical music box?

When my father, the King, had seen me doing so, he had immediately driven me away. Even the Handsome Prince had turned against me in utter disgust, although he himself had set the price I had paid so gladly. Thinking of that, I realized once again how richly I deserved my punishment.

When my client’s hand finally fell still, I glanced back to see that my bottom had turned such a dark, angry red, I could see it even through my pantaloons. He grinned proudly at his handiwork, revealing his broken teeth.

“I trust you will remember this night,” he said, as he strode to the door.

“I am sure I shall,” I assured him, rubbing my bruised behind. “After all, this was my first spanking.”

“It was, was it not?” he cried. “Then it must always be special to you…just as it will be to me.” He slammed the door behind him, leaving me to realize ruefully that I would indeed remember this night…and that man…forever.

* * *

The next fellow was younger, paler and, to my relief, he seemed slimmer, too. What he lacked in strength, though, he would soon make up in effort. I realized that all too clearly as he pushed me over the chair back, dragged my skirt to my waist and held it there with his left hand.

Because my bottom was so raw and tender already, his smacks were even more painful than my first client’s had been. He seemed much angrier, too, as he told me, “You are not screaming, the way you did before, but I will change that soon.”

Indeed, he managed to do that with his second smack. His right hand was aimed squarely at the center of my buttocks, which were already so hot and sore. “Stop, stop, please!” I heard myself howling. “I cannot stand it any longer!”

“But you MUST endure it!” he told me. “I have nine more spanks to go, and I have already paid for them.”

“I will give you your money back!” I pleaded. “But I beg you not to hit me any more.”

He did not seem to have heard me. “Believe me, these ten blows are a lot less than my employer ever gives to me, if I spill his wine,” he grumbled. “That hardly seems fair, because your faults are so much worse than mine have ever been.”

“I doubt if he ever struck as hard as you do!” I cried. That encouraged him to hit me even harder, using all the force of his wiry arms. They gave me the feeling he was getting revenge on his employer, even while he punished me, and he enjoyed both feelings immensely.

When he saw me stroking my bottom with one hand while the other wiped my tears away, his broad grin told me how much this night’s work had pleased him.

“I will come back again soon,” he promised me happily.

“Thank you, Sir,” I managed to reply.

* * *

My final visitor did not seem at all happy, as he closed the door behind him. He seemed to do it almost reluctantly, and I sensed that he was last in line because he had hung back in shame.

“I did not really want to come up here,” he confessed. “My friend decided to do it, and he urged me to try it as well. Since we are both university students, he said I could treat it as a scientific experiment. I don’t suppose you get many students here.”

“I doubt it,” I answered wryly. “The others all seemed like common laborers or small merchants to me.”

“Not that that puts them beneath me!” he quickly retorted. In a tone of triumph, he added, “In fact, if you believe it does, that is another reason to punish you. So bend yourself over that chair.”

It was as good a cause as any, I thought, as I followed his orders. But I could not keep from moaning as I did it.

As he walked towards me with his hand upraised, he gasped with horror at the sight of my crimson backside, which showed even through my pantaloons.

“Perhaps I should not have come here, after all,” he murmured, as his hand fell to his side. “You never did any harm to me.”

“I did harm to all of nature!” I cried, looking back over my shoulder at him. “You must remember that you have good reason to punish me. Not only did I prefer the machines to nature…I felt that a student was above an ordinary man. Surely I deserve to suffer for these sins.”

His blue eyes lit up more brightly, as he raised his hand again. “I am administering justice!” he told me proudly, as his first blow fell with a resounding smack.

When I jumped and cried out, it encouraged him to strike me all the harder. He left grinning happily, knowing that he had served out justice for the common man.

By now, I was so sore that I could no longer think of such things. I could only stroke my blazing, throbbing backside, as I lay face down on that hard bed.

Yet I still had the next night to look forward to! By then, the angry red marks would have turned to black bruises on my delicate skin, making those next hundred smacks a thousand times more painful.

I would indeed have gone searching for another inn, just as Elsie had said I could. There must be a place where my musical talents would be the only ones I needed.

I had realized all too clearly, though, that I deserved every burning blow. My clients, in turn, had earned the pleasure I had given them, by the thorough punishments they had inflicted on me.