Seven Kisses: A Beauty and the Beast Dark Romance (9 page)

Madame’s cruelty knew no bounds.

Tucking the crop under her arm, Madame took up the reins with both hands. Madame stood so close behind Gabrielle that the terrifying strap-on dildo nudged her fingers. She almost considered wrapping her hands around its generous girth just to see what it would feel like, but when Madame slapped the outside of her thigh with that horrible crop, she jumped and let go of the dildo. She didn’t know where she was headed, but that vicious slap put a bounce in her step.

Madame followed along in surprisingly steady bounds, especially considering the shoes she had on.  “Take a right. Good girl. Then straight ahead.”

Gabrielle’s breasts bounced with every step. They stuck out in front because her tied-up hands forced her shoulders back. Midnight air kissed every inch of her skin and the cool grass felt surprisingly lovely against her tender feet.  The more she ran, the more freeing running felt—even if she was harnessed to a cruel mistress parading as some kind of rehab therapist.

“Straight ahead, Suzanne. Stop at the barn doors and I will let you in.”

They must have been far to the side of the property, because Gabrielle hadn’t seen this structure from the main gates, or indeed from her window. The wood slat stables had obviously been built in the days when townsfolk rode horse-drawn carriages around town. Older houses had them, though most had been converted into garages. Far more people had cars than horses, these days.

The barn door shrieked like a banshee as Madame heaved it open. The stables had three pens—no they weren’t called pens. What were they called?  Well, there were three of them, anyway. Each was gated at the front and walled with wooden slats all around.  Madame opened one and Gabrielle naturally stepped inside, like she knew what she was doing.

She wished she could tell Mme de Villeneuve how beautiful she found the place, though it wouldn’t fit most people’s ideas of beauty. The dusty scent of hay made her sneeze, but she liked it. Reminded her of something she’d forgotten—a lost memory of petting zoos and class trips to the farm.

Madame wheeled the barn door closed.
Locked
.  Gabrielle glanced around for some alternate means of escape, but would she really run off in this state? Naked, covered in cheese and kitted up like a horse with a fondness for bondage?

When Madame returned, it was only to say, “Come.”

She then ducked out of the stall—
is that what it’s called? Not a pen, but a stall?—
and followed the sound of Madame’s husky voice to a concrete strip with a drain in the middle.

“You stink,” said Mme de Villeneuve, pointing the nozzle of a garden hose at her.  “Child, you absolutely reek of cheese.”

“Ayeo.”

I know.

Gabrielle bowed her head in resignation.  What was she supposed to do?  Fight it?  Anyway, she hadn’t washed since the sponge bath Madame gave her, and that was days ago.

“Are you ready?”

Gabrielle nodded.

“Good.”

The hose blasted her feet with surprisingly warm water, but it cooled considerably as it attacked her filthy knees. She braced herself, expecting Madame to strike her pussy, but Madame skipped that region completely, instead making her way up to Gabrielle’s belly.  Her breasts were slick with brie, and Madame spent a long while blasting her nipples with frigid water. It hurt like hell, but every time Madame switched breasts she felt a pulse in her clit.  Her pussy hadn’t felt so itchy for a fuck since she’d been drugged. Now it pounded.  Her pussy lips felt huge. Her clit was like a cock. This must be what it felt like to have an erection. God, she just wanted to fuck something with it.

How could she communicate with this bit between her teeth? 

She couldn’t speak, so she opened her legs in hopes that Mme de Villeneuve would take the hint. Nope. Madame blasted the hose against her chest. The closer she stepped, the more Gabrielle felt like she was being shot at. She opened her legs so wide she could hardly stand as Madame released the trigger.  “Turn around. Let me do your back.”

Reluctantly, Gabrielle spun around. She tried to bend forward to show off her swollen pussy, but bending with her hands tied behind her back made her feel tipsy.

“Ehh eee.”

Help me.

Ignoring her pleas, Madame shot a cold stream of water between Gabrielle’s shoulders. Gabrielle screamed. Her nipples peaked so hard they hurt. Was it the cold or the arousal? She couldn’t be sure, but they were more erect than she’d ever seen them, and they just kept growing like Pinocchio’s nose. It was almost a scary sight.

Gabrielle leaned forward, trying to direct Madame’s gaze to the throbbing gash between her legs. This time, Madame grabbed the reins with one hand and shot Gabrielle’s asshole with the hose. As Madame held her steady, she leaned forward, exulting in the strange pressure the water exerted on her hole. She’d never been fucked there. In truth she’d often wondered why anybody would participate in such a heinous act. But as cold water numbed her backside, she felt somewhat open to the experience.

“Good girl,” Madame said. “Very good.”

Gabrielle’s breasts hung like weights. As Madame struck her pussy with the hose, they swayed violently. She couldn’t keep herself from bucking against the water. It felt so good, all that water pummeling her pucker, getting right up in her pussy and cleaning her out. It was a psychic cleansing as much as a physical one.

Maybe Mme de Villeneuve knew what she was doing after all.

The strain on Gabrielle’s shoulders made her shriek as she fucked the hose.  Madame moved the nozzle around, perhaps to tease her, perhaps to clean traces of cheese from her butt cheeks. Every time that hard-hitting stream fucked her pussy or flicked her clit, she clamped her teeth around the bit and produced an odd open-mouthed scream.

“I’d say you were clean enough.” Madame tossed the hose to the ground. “Back in your stall, Suzanne.”

Madame held her counterbalanced by the reins as she stepped slowly toward the stall. The hay pricked her feet while the muscles in her legs snapped. Without the focus of impending orgasm, she couldn’t rely on her arousal to keep her standing. She let her knees meet one hay bale. Her cheek found another.  She splayed herself so Madame could take her from behind. She was no longer naïve Gabrielle.  Over the course of the past week, she’d become Suzanne. She could no longer deny her desires. She could no longer control them.

“Uhh eee!”

Fuck me!

She extended her ass, parting her legs.

“Uhh eee!”

Mme de Villeneuve traced her crop across Gabrielle’s wet skin. Was it her imagination, or had Madame drawn a heart on her ass? When she arrived at the base of that heart, she slid the leather tongue the length of Gabrielle’s swollen pussy lips. Up, and then all the way down to her throbbing clit. If she thought her lips were engorged, they had nothing on that fat little nub. It pounded and pulsed. It felt huge.

Where was the beast? He could put her to rest. So what if she couldn’t trust him with her fragile emotions?  She could certainly trust him to get her off. Really, what else did she need in life? She was a different person now. They’d broken her spirit, Madame and her minion. Now there was nothing but giving and getting.

Resting the side of the bit on a bale of hay, Gabrielle turned her head until her back twisted awkwardly. Her spine would not thank her for this, but what did she care of her body? She was covered in bruises—bruises on top of bruises, and cuts and scrapes on top of those—and she knew things would get worse before they got better.

So have at it, Mme de Villeneuve. Take me with that plastic cock. Fuck me hard. Make me scream. What do I care?

Her pussy felt so swollen she was surprised Madame could find the slit. When the latex woman entered her, she felt like she was being split in two. Maybe she’d underestimated the beating her pussy had taken over the past few days. Maybe that fake cock was too much for Gabrielle’s cunt. She tried not to wince. Her belly swirled with want.  How else could it be fulfilled?  But when Madame thrust that dangerous dick inside her, she bit down on the strip of rubber and she screamed.

Madame pulled out slowly.  “You are in pain, my child.”

How could she deny it? She was crying into her hay bale.

“You have been overexposed to vaginal intercourse.”

“Ahhhh.”

Yeahhh.

“But you crave cock.”

Gabrielle whimpered and moaned.

“I can still satisfy you without filling your pussy.”

Thank goodness!

“I only need a bit of this slick stuff.”

Christ, was that veterinary lubricant? Whatever it was, Madame slathered it the length of her strap-on dildo before spreading it up and down Gabrielle’s ass crack. 

Just when she was starting to feel clean for the first time all week, Mme de Villeneuve pressed the pad of a thumb against her asshole. “Have you ever been fucked here, my dear?”

The only sound she could produce was a whimper.

Madame shoved that thumb fully into her ass. “Does this hurt you, my dear?”

Gabrielle shook her head without raising it from the hay bale.

“Does it feel strange?”

Gabrielle nodded.

“You feel self-conscious?” Madame asked. “You feel as though you might lose control of your bowels and humiliate yourself in front of me?”

Or all over you…

Gabrielle nodded demurely, feeling strangely outside herself. Feeling like Suzanne, who probably got fucked up the ass every night and wasn’t ashamed in the least. What had become of that girl?  Maybe Mme de Villeneuve was right and Suzanne didn’t exist outside Gabrielle’s split psyche. Maybe she’d been two people all her life and never realized it until now. Was that possible? 

Anything’s possible…

“Shall I continue?” Madame asked.

Closing her eyes, Gabrielle nodded.

She expected Madame to insert something bigger into her ass, but the opposite happened. Madame extracted her thumb and spent an unconscionable amount of time rubbing circles around Gabrielle’s puckered rim. She wished beyond reason her hands were untied. That way she could stroke her clit. Maybe Madame would do it, but she had no way of asking.

Turning her head until her neck howled with the strain, Gabrielle watched dull light bouncing off Madame’s shiny black outfit. Everything she’d seen the woman wearing up until now had been so old-fashioned. Where would she have gotten such a fitted piece of fetish attire?

“How do you like that, my pet?”

Gabrielle gurgled while Madame circled a thumb round and round her ass.

“Are you ready to be fingered?”

Gabrielle made a sound she couldn’t identify. It wasn’t a word, just the sound of worry, the sound of insecurity, the sound of willing fear.

“Very well.”

Gabrielle couldn’t tell whether that meant, “Very well, then I won’t proceed,” or, “Very well, then I will.”

When Madame plunged two fingers into her ass, she clenched around them and Madame laughed. She could feel the power that woman exerted over her in the way Madame held the reins with force and security.  In a sense, she wished she could be more like her captor. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to exude such confidence? Wouldn’t it be wild to strike fear into every heart simply by walking into the room?

Madame launched her fingers deeper inside Gabrielle’s ass. What was she doing in there? Opening her fingers and stretching Gabrielle’s ass ring in the process. That felt so weird, like she might accidentally shit herself.
Oh god, make it stop!

Then Madame added a third finger and Gabrielle didn’t know what to do. She kicked and bucked wildly.

“Calm yourself!”  Madame brought down punishment in the lick of her riding crop. “Behave.”

Gabrielle screamed at the unexpected strike.  She chewed on the bit for relief, the way soldiers in the olden days chewed on rags while field surgeons amputated their legs. She could take comfort in knowing Madame probably wouldn’t remove any of her limbs. By comparison, being struck by a riding crop wasn’t such a big deal.

That’s what she thought… until Madame dealt a fiercer blow.

The pain defied belief. She felt like a bolt of lightning had fallen from the sky to slap her ass.  Shrieking, Gabrielle wiggled and writhed. Her swinging breasts whacked a hay bale, and when her nipples got jabbed she could have gnawed the bit in half.  As much as it hurt, she wanted more. She couldn’t convince herself to stop heaving her breasts against the hay or kicking to incur Mme de Villeneuve’s wrath.

All at once, peace descended. Madame’s fingers slipped from her ass. Lubricant dripped down her crack. When she felt a new sensation, she paused to take it in. She didn’t realize what it was, at first, though it should have been perfectly obvious. The dull bigness pried her cheeks apart and prodded her hole. She tensed. It scared her.

Stroking her rump, Madame said, “Relax for me, Suzanne. Let me in.”

Leaning forward, Mme de Villeneuve grabbed Gabrielle’s breast. When Madame flicked her nipple, her ass opened like magic. She groaned to express discomfort, but also want and fear and desire. That groan went on and on as Mme de Villeneuve pushed the fake cock into Gabrielle’s rear.