Beauty and the Beast (an erotic re-imagining) (8 page)

“Very well, he said. “Let’s discuss some ground rules.”

Belle waited silently.

“You should probably respond with, ‘Yes, Sir,’” he offered.

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

“We’ve already decided that I will not harm you, and I will release you in six months—”

“Wonderful,” Belle interrupted.

“—provided you do what I say,” he finished.

“Yes… Sir. I understand.”

“Are you through you with your breakfast, Belle?”

She glanced longingly at an orange. “May I have one of those, first, Sir? I usually only got oranges for Christmas. It’s sort of a novelty for me.”

The Beast plucked an orange from the bowl of fruit on the table, and snagged the rind with one long fang. She watched with interest as he peeled the fruit for her, revealing the juicy sections inside.

“I want you to become more comfortable with my appearance,” he said. “You may eat this from my fingers.” He broke off a section and held it out to her.

Belle frowned, but the expression was fleeting. She quickly replaced it with a serene nod. “Of course. I will do whatever you say, as promised.”

She took a tentative step toward him, and as she did so, he pulled the orange slightly closer to his body, so that she soon found herself close enough to his body to be in a most intimate range. The Beast offered her the orange slice, and she nibbled it gently from his thick, dark fingers.

“It’s delicious, Sir,” she said. “But I think I’m quite done now.”

“Have another piece,” he said, holding out another slice.

“I’m full, thank you.”

“That’s fine.” He set the unfinished orange down on the table and smiled at her.

The poor girl winced, then laughed a bit. “A smile.”

“You’ve pleased me by eating from my hands. But while you may be done eating, I’m not done having you lick at my fingers like a little cat.”

Belle’s eyes widened.

“Come, put my finger in your mouth. Think of it as an easy way to get used to me.”

Belle moaned and looked around the empty atrium, as if seeking an escape.

“You’re not ready for this,” the Beast said. “We can start your sentence when you’re prepared to actually follow instructions.”

“No!” she said. “I mean, I am ready. I’m ready.” She took his large hand in her two small ones, and ran her fingers along the thick skin and fur that covered the back of his knuckles.

He didn’t like seeing her so uncomfortable, but their time together was limited. The sooner she became comfortable with his body, with being near him, touching him, letting him touch her… the better.

Belle pressed her lips to his fingertip and kissed him there.

“Good girl,” he said. “Use your tongue.”

Her pink tongue darted out past her lips, sliding up his finger for just a moment before she stopped.

“Are you getting some sort of… enjoyment out of this? Is this pleasurable for you?” she asked.

“It’s pleasurable for me to see you obeying me, yes. But if you’d rather put your pretty mouth to work on another appendage in order to give me the pleasure you seem to be inquiring about, then go ahead.”

Belle gasped and dropped his hand. “I couldn’t.”

“You don’t have to. It’s only breakfast time. Perhaps today we’ll just touch each other, nothing more. How about that?”

“Yes,” she breathed, clearly relieved. “Yes, thank you.”

The Beast paused. “Do you…do you
want
to touch me?”

***

Belle looked up at the Beast, at his massive form. He was so different from anything she’d ever seen before. So beautiful, in a terrifying way. The way a lion is beautiful, even as he stalks his prey.

Yes. She wanted to touch him.

“May I, Sir?”

A low rumble emanated from his chest. “Of course. Go ahead. Don’t be afraid, beauty.”

Belle touched his abdomen first, perhaps because that was at eye-level, and maybe (most likely) because she loved the tight blocks of muscle, and the fur that covered it seemed so soft.

She ran her fingertips over the brown and black fur, so gently that she didn’t even feel the skin beneath it yet. It was soft indeed. She glanced up at him, at those incredible

human, so human

eyes of his, and he smiled. It didn’t frighten her, not this time. He appeared to really enjoy her hesitant contact.

With more confidence now, she continued, running her palm across the broad expanse of his chest, finally feeling the firm muscle beneath the fur, muscle that displayed his incredible strength. When she opened both of her arms wide, her fingertips grazed the edges of his forearms. That was how wide he was, how tall he was. His sheer enormity aroused her somehow, made her tingle.

“May I touch your face, Sir?” she asked quietly.

The Beast dropped heavily to all fours, and now his head was even with hers. The lion’s mane flowed out from around his face, thick and as vibrant as if it had been spun from gold. His heavy brow felt warm, very warm, or perhaps her hands were chilled.

“That feels nice,” he said, as softly as a lover.

Belle stroked his head, bringing her fingers down to his fangs. They were clean and white, and terribly sharp. If she touched the tip of that long canine tooth, would it prick her, would she bleed? She paused, unwilling to get bitten.

“I won’t harm you,” he repeated. “You have nothing to fear. I have full control over my mouth, my teeth. You could even kiss my lips, and feel nothing but comfort there.”

Belle smiled at him, surprised by the Beast’s gentleness. It was a bit hard to wrap her head around the idea that he wasn’t some wild animal that couldn’t be trusted.

Could she really kiss the Beast?

She moved in, her lips hovering close to his. But fear took hold again. “You said today was about touching. Touching alone.”

“So be it,” he said. Did he sound disappointed?

Before she changed her mind, Belle walked around to the side of the Beast, stroking his silky fur as she went. At some point below his waist, covered now by a pair of custom-tailored pants that only fairies could have provided, his upper torso transformed into that of a wolf-like lower body.

The long, sleek legs, the powerful hind paws, and the tail. Would he wag his tail if he was pleased? Belle stifled a burst of nervous laughter, and the Beast growled. She felt it vibrate through his massive body.

“Oh!” she gasped, and stepped back.

“You’re laughing at me,” he said.

He sounded hurt. How could a small laugh from a small girl have hurt the feelings of someone so powerful?

“No, no I wasn’t,” she said. Belle wasn’t even sure if it was a fib or not. Looking at him now, the idea of laughing at such a beast made absolutely no sense.

“What if I had you strip, and I touched every inch of you, and I laughed?” he asked. “What if I laughed at
your
body?” It didn’t seem like a threat, rather, it seemed like he really was wounded by her reaction.

“I’m nervous, Beast, Sir, that is all. I had a silly thought and the laugh escaped me. I wouldn’t dare laugh at you.”

“Strip.”

Belle stepped back, her heel bumping up against the doorframe. “Sir, please.”

“Remove your clothes, or I will remove them for you.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

“Let’s see how you feel, when you are the subject of inspection.”

What could she do? She could run, she could tell him no. But he was bigger, and he would win. He was a Beast. There was no reason to make this harder on herself.

“I apologize, Sir,” she said. “I truly do.”

“Well, then?” he asked, nodding his head toward her gown.

“Perhaps the fairies could provide assistance,” she said.

They did. Her gown dropped to her feet like a puddle, the secret diary she’d stored in the folds hitting the marble floor with a thud, but the Beast didn’t appear to notice. With renewed courage, she stepped out of the fabric, naked. Naked in the sunlight, exposed completely to her Beast, her Master.

The Beast circled her like a wolf circling its prey. Belle closed her eyes, taking calming breaths. He wouldn’t harm her, he had promised. If he wished to, he could. So there was nothing to do but leave her fate up to Providence.

“You can laugh at me if you must, Beast,” she whispered. “I know you want to.”

“No, Beauty. There is nothing I see to laugh at. You are beautiful, and fully deserving of your name.”

Belle opened her eyes. He was so close, mere millimeters away.

“Touch me?” she asked.

Why did he arouse her so? The memory of what he’d done to her on her first night in the cell, when she’d parted her thighs for him and welcomed his touch on her wet heat—despite her fear—came back to her so hard she moaned.

“You
want
me to touch you?” he asked, as if in disbelief. “You’re not afraid?”

“I’m not afraid, Sir.”

Touch me. Touch me
there
, once more
.

He reached out and picked her up, cradling her in his arms like a babe. Even though she was now quite high off the marble floor, she had no fear of falling, or of him dropping her. She felt…safe.

Safe in the arms of the Beast.

The Beast trailed his fingers across her cheek, his touch so sweet and gentle, she sighed with pleasure.

“What were you laughing at, little one?” he asked. “Tell me.”

Heat filled her cheeks, warming them. “I am so sorry, Sir.”

His hand dropped to her naked breast, her nipple hard as ice—whether from arousal or fear, or both, she wasn’t certain.

“I wondered if you ever wagged your tail to display happiness,” she mumbled. She winced, pressing her face against his warm, fuzzy chest.

But he laughed!

“Wh-what?” she asked. “Are you angry?”

“I don’t wag my tail, no. I suppose it’s because—” he broke off in lilting growls, growls that made no sense.

“Please don’t growl at me, Sir,” she said desperately. Now she felt vulnerable, the way she should have felt all along, perhaps, naked and carried in his arms.

“I don’t mean to growl,” he said. His voice changed, now he sounded very serious. “One of my—afflictions—is that I can’t always communicate the way I would like to. Sometimes I am more Beast than man. But with you, Beauty, I want to be as much of man as you’ll allow.”

“Are you—are you a man, Beast?”

He looked at her with those intense green eyes. “I’ll let you decide, in time.”

“Beast?” she whispered.

“Beauty.”

“That thing you did that first night I was here—”

“I’m so sorry, Belle. I took advantage of you. You must have been horribly frightened.” He brought his face close to hers, almost as if to comfort her, to cuddle her. “I forgive you for wounding me with that wicked saw. I suppose I’m lucky you didn’t ask the ah, fairies for an ax to chop off my head.”

“Yes, I was frightened,” she admitted. “But that’s because I thought you might eat me. I’m afraid of dying, Beast, not of having a pleasurable experience.” Belle blushed.

The Beast grinned. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Will you do that thing again?” she asked. “Will you touch me the way you did that night?”

“Ah, Belle,” he said. “I could, but first you must earn it. From now on, you shall earn your pleasure.” The Beast set her down on her feet. “Let’s go to the parlor, where we can be more comfortable.”

Belle followed him, naked. It felt so strange to walk freely through the castle without clothing, but since no one but the fairies could see them, she supposed it didn’t matter much.

What did he mean, she’d have to earn it?

Would he spank her again, as Frederick seemed to imply in her dream

(was it a dream?)

last night? And where was Frederick, if not only in her dreams? Would the Beast tell her where he had imprisoned the handsome prince?

5: Belle’s Punishment

The Beast
took her into the parlor and stood before the fireplace. “Fire,” he commanded, and flames burst to life behind him, crackling.

“What do you want me to do, Sir?”

She was nervous, yes, but after her unusual evening with Frederick, she had to admit she was intrigued. Why had Frederick told her that she must love the Beast? Belle would never be able to love the monster who held her captive, who kept her from her Papa. The monster who knew exactly what to do to make her writhe with pleasure…

“Come, sit on my lap,” he said, his words thick with desire. “To earn your reward, you only have to ask me two questions, and answer one.”

Belle walked over to him and sat on his large lap, the fine wool of his trousers soft beneath her flesh. For some reason she wished that she could feel his fur on her bottom, on her thighs. What did the Beast’s most private parts look like?