Beauty and the Beast (an erotic re-imagining) (9 page)

“If I may be so bold,” she said, “why do you want me to ask you questions?”

“I want you to get to know me, and I want to get to know you.” He didn’t smile, but his reason seemed friendly enough.

“I’m scared to say the wrong thing. I don’t want you to spank me again.” Belle blushed as she spoke, but mainly because she wasn’t quite sure that wasn’t a lie.

When Frederick had told her that the Beast enjoyed spanking her, and that Frederick would spank her and make her love it, she believed him. Maybe she could love it, or some aspect of it. Maybe she didn’t have to feel hurt or humiliated by a spanking in an adult setting. After all, she was no longer a child.

“I will never harm you,” the Beast said. “You don’t need to be afraid that I’ll spank you, because I
will
spank you. As long as you know for a fact that I will, there is no need to fear it.”

Belle inhaled sharply. That made a twisted sort of sense. It wasn’t a question of if, it was a question of when. Still, her stomach tumbled at the thought.

The Beast positioned her on his lap so that they could look at each other quite comfortably. He was very close, close enough to feel the heat of his breath as it passed his sharp, shiny fangs.

“What would you like to know about me, Belle?”

“Why did you take me captive?” she asked immediately.

“Because you offered yourself in lieu of your father. I’d rather have a beautiful young woman than an old man in my dungeon, anyway.”

Belle frowned. “Why not just let my Papa go? Why did you force me to take his place to begin with?”

“I couldn’t let your Papa go, Belle,” the Beast said. “Not when I discovered he had a daughter. You.”

“Why not let me go?” she whispered.

“You’ve asked your questions,” he said. “You can save the others for another interview, another time.”

The Beast ran his hand down to her thighs, gently spreading them, until her cunny was accessible to his slow, careful tactile inspection. “Now, Beauty, I have a question for
you
.”

Belle moaned as he slid one thick finger along her nether lips, spreading them until her tender bud was exposed. She was already wet with need.

“All right,” she breathed.

“What do you know about Frederick?”

“It was just a dream,” Belle said. The Beast touched her clitoris, rubbed it so gently that she arched her back, trying to get more contact with his fingers. “At least, I think it was a dream.”

“Go on,” he said. Without pause, he tickled her wetness, spreading her labia and teasing her tender bud.

“He told me to love you. And he told me he was… he is imprisoned here. I know he’s here, somewhere, Beast. Won’t you tell me where he is?”

“Do you like Frederick? Did you do anything naughty with him that you need to tell me about?”

Belle moaned as the Beast rubbed her clit faster. “No! At least, I don’t think so. Maybe.”

“It’s all right, Belle,” he said. “You can play with your dream companion. As long as you don’t forget that you serve me, above all.”

“I won’t forget, Sir. Please, please,” she broke off as he slid one thick finger deep inside her, making her gasp in pleasure.

Oh Lord in Heaven, the Beast had a way with his hands!

The Beast hit a spot inside her, something that felt like it would make her melt into a puddle. But, it also made her a bit uncomfortable.

“Beast, please, I have to…”

Oh no, she had to relieve herself
. The pressure his huge fingers inside of her, pressing, tapping over and over against that spot, made her feel like she could barely hold it in. At least ( in her admittedly limited experience) that was what it felt like.

“I don’t care,” he said. “Relax into the feeling, Beauty.”

“Stop!” she begged. “I might have an accident, please, stop.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Go ahead.”

But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. As if against her will (although she very much enjoyed the feeling, if only she didn’t have to pee) the Beast tore a slow, shuddering orgasm from her. Warm wetness gushed from her vagina.

“Oh no,” she cried, hiding her face against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

The Beast laughed. “You didn’t have an accident, Beauty. You had an orgasm.”

No, that made no sense. She’d had an orgasm before with him, and this was different. She could feel the wetness.

“It’s your arousal, nothing sinister. Sometimes, if a woman is stimulated in just the right way, she can ejaculate.” The Beast lifted his wet hand to her face for inspection. “Lick it,” he said.

Belle grimaced. “Please don’t make me, Sir.”

“Lick my finger, because it will please me. And then you’ll see you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She leaned forward and sniffed his hand. No, it didn’t smell like urine. Had she really ejaculated, like a man? How odd! But the Beast seemed to be happy about it, as if she’d done something he approved of. With a quick dart of her tongue, she licked her own fluids from his hand.

“Good girl,” he said.

His praise helped dissipate the lingering embarrassment, and tasting her own wetness had, surprisingly, aroused her more than she would ever have imagined. Still, it felt so strange, so dangerous and wrong, to do such things with the Beast.

“Beast,” she whispered. “Where is Frederick?”

She was scared, scared that the Beast would be angry with her for asking again about the handsome prince. Surely he must hate that another man, one who she was attracted to and who might take her attention from him, was here in the castle. But he had told her she was free to “play” with him.

The Beast, if nothing else, had a way of surprising her.

***

The Beast looked at Belle’s sweet, frightened expression. “Darling, I can’t tell you. But you need not fear Frederick, just as you need not fear me.”

He couldn’t tell her that he knew of her dream. That he had, somehow, been a part of her dream. It didn’t seem possible, and yet it had happened.

They both had fallen asleep, and met again in another realm, perhaps. It had never happened to him before.

Well, that wasn’t exactly so. In his dreams, all alone for the past decade in the castle, he was always a man. In his dreams, the Beast was Frederick. He’d always assumed that his dreams were fantasy alone, a misty false memory created in sleep.

Not actually occurring. And yet, they must have been real, or how would he know, down to the last detail, exactly why Belle kept asking about Frederick? The Beast hadn’t asked her for specifics of her encounter with his most inner self, but he knew.

He
knew
.

It would be beneficial for her to love him as Frederick, but only because if he ever did turn back into his former state, she would know him. As it stood, if she thought Frederick was someone else, and loved him, then how (or why) would she ever pick a Beast to love?

There had to be a way for the Beast to convince her to be with him, through Frederick. Her dream had already convinced her to start her training with the Beast, to start to get to know him. But she kept harping on finding Frederick in waking life.

That would have to stop.

“Belle, I know you’re concerned about Frederick.”

“I saw him, I think, I don’t know…” she whispered.

“But if you mention him to me again, if you continue to search the castle for him, then you will be punished.”

“That’s not fair,” she said, pushing off of his lap. “He came to me, he’s held prisoner here.”

“Belle, you need to stop,” he warned.

“And you said that you didn’t mind if I was with him! Why change your mind now?”

“You can be with him, if he comes to you,” the Beast agreed. “But stop searching for him. Forget about him, when you are with me.”

Belle turned her face from the Beast and stormed, naked, back toward the hallway.

“When you are ready to continue, Belle, you will meet me in the dungeon.”

Now, she turned on her feet, and glared at him. “I don’t understand you, Beast. You are an enigma.”

“I am your Master for the next six months,” he said softly, his words rumbling as the animalist part of him shone through. “I gave you a direct order, which you immediately disobeyed.”

Her eyes widened. Ahh, now she understood.

But she ran away.

The Beast waited for a few minutes for her to realize the error of her ways and return, but she didn’t. He could easily grab her and physically take her downstairs for her punishment, but that would be completely in contrast to the point he hoped to make.

She needed to choose this. So, he would wait until she was ready.

It was nightfall before he heard the sound of her suite door squeak open. The Beast paused in his tracks, listening.

Belle stood before him in her dressing gown, looking at her feet sorrowfully.

“Please don’t punish me, Sir,” she said. She dropped to her knees on the cold stone floor in an unexpected display of submission. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You were thinking quite clearly,” he said. “You thought you would test me. That’s fine. I enjoy punishing misbehaving young women. If you’re ready to continue, we shall do so in the dungeon.”

She hesitated, her eyes wet with unshed tears of terror. Why should she be so frightened? He had already promised he would never harm her, or eat her.

“I don’t want to go to the dungeon,” she said.

The Beast raised his brow, giving her a stern look, and she flew down the stairs to the dungeon, suddenly ready to obey.

Good.

***

Belle stumbled down the long, narrow stairway to the dungeon. Why, why had she pushed so hard? They had been having such a nice time, and she had ruined it all. It helped, a little, to know that the Beast had promised to not ever eat her, and she believed him. Perhaps that was why she finally worked up the courage to face him again. Only took her all day.

Still, he’d also promised to punish her. Would he spank her again, right now? Or would it be something else, something that required a dungeon, and not just her, overturned on his lap?

The Beast was right behind her. She felt cornered, and she once again dropped to her knees, hoping it would appease him.

“I like that, Belle,” he said, the earlier anger from that morning gone from his voice.

“I want to please you, Sir,” she said. “I know I promised to do what you say. I’m trying, I am.”

“You may stand,” he said. “Take off your dress.”

He prowled over to a set of chains hanging on the dungeon’s cold, stone wall. How had she not noticed those before?

Belle swallowed hard and rushed to obey. She wouldn’t tarry and give him more reason to be hard on her. She’d learned her lesson about stalling after her first spanking.

The chains moved as if on their accord, latching thick cuffs around her wrists.

Oh fairies, are you against me too, now?

The Beast stepped back, his gaze on her naked, stretched body, her arms high above her head, and smiled, baring his sharp teeth.

“Have you ever been whipped, Beauty?” he asked.

What was the right answer? If she said yes (a lie), would he go easier on her, or harder?

“No, Beast,” she whispered.

“Would you like to be whipped?”

A trick question. It had to be.

“I’m scared, Sir,” she said honestly. “But I’ll do whatever you want me to do. We have an agreement, and I know if I do what you say, then you’ll honor your end of the bargain and set me free when it is time.”

The Beast laughed, a low, rumbling sound, and she struggled to keep her face expressionless despite her concern. He would honor their deal, right? He had to.

“That’s right, Belle. We will both keep our word.” He left her field of vision, disappearing into the shadows, and returned with a long, leather whip with several strands of leather hanging ominously from his hand.

“This will hurt, but the marks won’t last more than tonight, and by tomorrow morning, your skin will be as white and unblemished as it is right now. I chose this whip because it hurts, but doesn’t harm. I keep my word, always, Beauty.”

A whimper escaped her throat, and she swallowed again, determined to not cry. She could handle this. How much could it hurt if it didn’t even leave a lasting mark, right?

He dropped to all fours and moved in closer, nudging her torso with his head, the long, silky mane brushing against her nipples. The tiny pink peaks were hard, and while Belle wished she could say it was only because she was freezing, in reality, she was aroused.

Why? Why, why, and how on earth was she turned on when she was about to be punished by the Beast?

“Turn around,” he said.

She obeyed, the chains around her wrists rattling in protest as her nipples pressed against the stone. The wall felt icy, almost wet.

“You will count,” he said.