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Beauty and the Beast (an erotic re-imagining) Page 2
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Page 2
Ask and ye shall receive, Beast. The castle will comply, since no one else will.
All my best,
Your beloved Stepmother
Frederick growled and pulled the pants off the bed. But he didn’t know how to use his new appendages. The claws on his feet ripped everything, and though his animal hands had opposable thumbs, learning to use his new body was going to take some time. And he didn’t have time. It was useless.
“I need the damn pants on me,” he yelled at the empty room.
The pants moved as if of their own accord, pulling up onto his wolves’ legs, buttoning themselves. He looked in the mirror.
Well, I look like an animal in clothing. Wonderful. He frowned, but the Beast in the mirror revealed the expression as a horrific grimace with fangs. He tried to smile, to see if that was any better, but it was worse.
How would he ever convince Nadine that he was really himself?
His eyes. They were still human. That girl had stared into his eyes for hours when they made love. They’d spent many nights with her tied up to her bed, gazing at each other as he entered her. Surely she’d know it was him.
He was still himself, on the inside. Since she loved him
(if she loved him)
then she would know it was still him. His life depended on it.
Frederick waited until the middle of the night, when everyone in the castle would be asleep. He crept out of his room, past the ballroom, and went into the grand foyer and out the door. It was a long way to town. Normally he wouldn’t risk taking the shortcut through the woods at night because of the wolves, but now he felt quite certain that if anything, the wolves would be afraid of him.
Running was faster on all fours. He sprinted through the forest, actually enjoying the way his body responded when he ran. He’d never felt so big and strong in his life.
The lights were out in Nadine’s father’s house, as he expected they would be. But her room had a door to a balcony, and she always left it unlocked so he could visit her. Hopefully she’d left it unlocked, even though he’d already taken her once today.
Climbing the tree to her balcony was easier in animal form than it had been as a human. The muscles in his new body were incredibly strong. He pounced onto her balcony from the tree and hovered outside the door, panting.
He had to make her understand, before she saw him. Or he was doomed.
Let the door be open, he prayed.
It was. Perhaps Nadine had remembered it was his birthday after all.
Frederick slipped inside her bedroom and covered her eyes with his heavy hand, taking care not to scratch her pretty face with the unkempt gorilla finger nails.
“Nadine,” he whispered.
The girl whimpered. “Who are you?”
“It’s me, it’s—” His voice sounded different, though, coming from his new vocal cords. He tried to tell her what happened with the enchantress, but the words wouldn’t come out. It just sounded like angry growling.
My stepmother is an evil witch who turned me into a beast. If you love me the spell will be broken.
That’s what he kept trying to say, but the words literally could not come out. That witch had cast a spell to keep him from telling people what she’d done!
It’s only a spell, I’m still in here, I’m still Prince Frederick!
But only growls emerged from his mouth.
Nadine struggled, pushing his paw away from her face. Her eyes widened in terror, her mouth fell open in a gasp,
“Please, Nadine—”
I am Frederick!
Fuck.
“Look at my eyes,” he said, grateful when the words came out. “You know me.”
Nadine screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help me, Father! Help!”
Frederick heard the clomping of feet down the hall. He dove out of her room and into the tree, jumped to the ground, and ran.
“Help!” she screamed.
He spared one last glance up at the girl he thought loved him. The girl who didn’t even recognize his eyes, his soul.
She howled in fear, and he ran away, back into the woods.
He could still hear her words, echoing in his ears.
“It’s a BEAST!”
1: A Stranger Calls
(Ten Years Later)
The Beast—for that was what he was now, no longer Prince Frederick—stood at the large bay window and stared out onto the empty landscape surrounding his abandoned castle. A storm raged through the sky, pouring rain down in heavy sheets of water.
It reminded him of the storm on the night he was turned into the Beast.
His stepmother had left that night, ten years ago, after she’d enchanted him and the castle. She took all of the servants with her. Beast pitied the next unfortunate fool who fell under her spell like his father had done.
“I would like a fire,” he commanded, pointing to the large stone fireplace.
It immediately lit up, creating a warming glow. Beast sat before it and watched the flames dance. The scent of roses from an open window drifted through his drawing room, and he ordered the window to shut to keep out the rain. Pity it would also keep out the intoxicating scent of roses as well. The thorny bushes were under every window to deter thieves, but Beast loved them for their roses. They provided the only beauty he’d seen in ten long years.
He couldn’t even bear to cut the blossoms, for fear of killing their beauty.
BANG.
Beast jumped in his chair. What was that? The front door—
Banging.
No one had come to the castle since his stepmother left. He had a suspicion she had cast a spell over the town so that they’d forget it even existed. That he existed.
BANG. BANG.
They’d come—he’d lived in fear that at some point the townspeople would come to slay the Beast. But now he welcomed it. What was living, if he was forced to live his life alone in this vast, empty castle? Unable to seek out human contact. Unable to do anything other than wish for a girl to come along and break the spell.
But the castle’s enchantment didn’t work that way. When he was hungry, a meal appeared before him. When he wanted a bath, one was magically poured. But there was no response when he wished for company. He knew, he’d tried.
“Fire, go out,” he grumbled under his breath. The room fell into darkness once more, and Beast hid in the shadows, awaiting the fate of the stranger knocking on his door.
“Please, may I come in?” a man’s voice called. “I’m lost and there were wolves at my heels—waiting for me at the castle gate. I beg you, let me in.”
***
To Henry Castelle, the merchant standing before the intimidating castle door, the only thing that kept him banging on that door was the sure knowledge that if he didn’t get shelter tonight, he would die in the woods.
“Please,” he called, “I mean you no harm, for the love of God, please let me in!”
The door creaked open. Henry gasped in relief and entered, quickly shutting the door behind him. He looked up gratefully to thank his host, but no one was there.
“H-hello?” he called. “My name is Henry Castelle, I apologize for the intrusion.”
His voice echoed off the high ceilings, bouncing back at him. The castle appeared to be deserted.
“If I might warm myself by your fire and spend the night, I will be eternally grateful,” he said. To no one.
To his surprise, a fire shot up in the fireplace, the warmth drawing him in closer. An empty chair sat in front of the fireplace, and he sat down, sighing with relief as the chill slowly seeped out of his bones.
What made the fire start, in an abandoned castle?
“Thank you, good fairies, for being so accommodating to a poor stranger such as myself.”
No answer.
His stomach rumbled loudly. Henry laughed, his nervousness coming through despite his best efforts. “Sorry, how embarrassing. I’m quite hungry.”
It felt strange, talking to what
he could only assume were benevolent fairies, but when a tray piled high with food and hot chocolate appeared before him, any strangeness he felt disappeared.
He touched the food gingerly with the fork, afraid it would disappear into thin air the same way it had arrived. But the food was real, as real as his hunger. Henry ate voraciously.
Taking the last sip of chocolate, and feeling sufficiently warmed by the fire, he stood and began to explore a bit.
“If there is a bed where I might spend the night, I would be very grateful,” he said aloud to the fairies. “I’ll be on my way in the morning.”
A glimmer of light caught his eye. Candles lit by themselves along the walls of one corridor, and Henry tentatively followed the path they set out for him.
One room’s door was ajar. He peeked in, and seeing a freshly made bed and a warm fire glowing in the fireplace, took off his boots and laid down. With a full belly and the nightmare of his ordeal in the woods behind him, Henry fell asleep the moment his head hit the soft satin pillow.
The following morning, a tray with coffee and fresh fruit awaited him. His clothing, which had been soaked through in the storm the night before, was dry and hanging in the open armoire.
“Fairies, you have outdone yourself,” he said. “Thank you so much, you’ve saved my life. I’ll be leaving now.”
He finished his breakfast and dressed quickly, not wanting to overstay his welcome. His daughter Belle would be amazed when he told her how he’d spent the night, and he couldn’t wait to tell her all about it. If only he’d been able to bring home the riches he’d promised her.
When he’d heard word that one of his lost merchant ships had been found, he had gone off, expecting his wealth to be returned to him. But no such luck. It was almost as if Belle knew, and didn’t want to put undue pressure on him. While he had promised to bring her back anything her heart desired—a gown, pearls, gold—his sweet Belle only asked him to bring her back a rose, since she was exceedingly fond of them, and they didn’t grow well for her.
Now he couldn’t even bring home a simple rose.
Henry sighed and made his way out of the castle, once again thanking the fairies for their hospitality. A large shadow swooped past him in the corner, making him jump in fright, but no one was there.
The castle looked different in the sunshine than it did at night. The wolves were gone, as was the rain. Droplets glimmered on the beautiful rose bushes that bloomed under every window.
Roses!
Henry leaned into the bush, inhaling the heady scent of the blooms. Carefully, he reached down and plucked a perfect bud from the thorns.
ROARRRRR!
Henry fell to the ground with fright, the rose falling from his hand. Looming above him, growling ferociously with fangs bared, stood a…a beast.
“How dare you steal my roses!” the Beast thundered. “After the hospitality I’ve shown you. I took you in, gave you a fire and food and a warm bed. How do you repay me? By stealing the only beautiful thing I have left!”
Henry’s entire body shook with terror. “P-please, sir, I thought the castle was abandoned. I only took the rose because my daughter Belle loves them so much that she asked me to bring her one when I returned home.”
The Beast stilled, glaring at Henry. “You have a daughter.”
“Y-yes, sir. I meant no harm. I’ll return the rose.” He hastily attempted to set the flower back onto the bush, yelping when his hand got caught on a thorn.
“You can’t return a cut bloom,” Beast growled. “It will wither and die. And for that, so must you.”
Henry tried to fight but it was no use, not against the Beast’s immense size and strength. The Beast opened his mouth wide, revealing horrific fangs, and came closer.
He will devour me, the merchant despaired.
But instead, the Beast bit down onto the back of the man’s shirt and dragged him back into the castle, taking no notice of the way the man’s body was battered against the hard stone floors.
They went down a narrow staircase, to the dungeon. Chains hung on the walls, and along the floor. The Beast threw him into the corner by a pile of hay, and said, “Chain him.”
To Henry’s horror, the chains on the floor crept around his ankles and locked in place, capturing him.
“Please, sir, I beg you,” Henry said. “Let me see my daughter one last time, and I will return to you.”
The Beast laughed at his proposition. “Why should I trust a thief to willingly come back to me, once you are freed?”
“Please, I just…I just want to see my daughter. I want her to know what happened, or she’ll never stop worrying about how I disappeared.”
“If I let you go see your daughter one last time,” Beast said, “and you betray my trust and do not return…I will go into town, hunt you down, and I will eat Belle—like the Beast I am.”
The merchant paled. “I could never allow that to happen, sir. Please, let me go, and you have my word I will return.”
The Beast nodded, and the chains around the man’s ankles unlatched.
“Go now,” he roared. “Before I change my mind!”
***
Back at the merchant’s house, Belle Castelle wiped her hands on her apron and stepped back out onto their tiny front porch, shielding her eyes from the sun to see if her father was heading down the road yet.
He shouldn’t have been gone so long. Her father was due home yesterday. What could have kept him? Perhaps the storm forced him to spend the night at an inn?
Finally, she saw him in the distance, running toward her. He had no packages, which could only mean that his ship hadn’t brought back the wealth he’d been hoping for.
Belle smiled and waved, glad now that she asked only for a rose.
“Belle!” her father gasped, running into her open arms. He hugged her tightly.
“I was worried, Papa,” she said. “Are you…are you all right?”
“No,” he whispered. “Something horrible happened.”
Belle looked at him, frightened. “What, Papa?”
“I never should have taken that rose,” he wailed.
Her stomach dropped at his words. “Tell me what happened.”
“There’s a beast, Belle. A horrible, enormous beast, and if I don’t go back to his castle as his prisoner…he’s going to eat you.” The man sobbed as he said the last part, overcome with emotion.
“Don’t worry, Papa. Let’s go straight to the Constable and let him know. They will take care of this Beast for us,” Belle said.
They ran to the Constable and found him dozing in his chair.
“Sir,” Belle coughed, waking him. “We have a problem. My father is being threatened by a Beast who intends to eat me if he doesn’t go to his castle as his prisoner.”
The Constable looked at the man, at the crazed fear in his eyes, and at the girl. “Very well, my child, I’ll take care of everything.” He stood and walked into the back room.
“See, Papa? I told you, everything will be fine.”
But when the Constable returned, he brought with him his wife Mrs. Sharone, the old lady who ran the Institution for Lunatics.
“A Beast, you say?” she asked dryly.
“Yes, ma’am, a huge beast, with the body of a gorilla, the mane of a lion, and the feet and tail of a wolf!” The merchant nearly fainted in terror just from describing him. “He’ll eat Belle alive if I don’t go to his castle!”
“Tell me about this castle,” she said, picking up a pen and her clipboard. She scrawled a quick note and looked up.
“It’s quite large, very old,” her Papa described. “And it has fairies that can give you whatever you wish for.” Henry paused. “That part was really lovely, actually. But then the Beast came and locked me in his dungeon.”
The old lady turned to the Constable. “As you said, Constable. Delusions, hallucinations. I’ll take him in to assess whether he’s a danger to himself or others.”
“You can’t!” Henry cried. �
��If I don’t return, he’ll eat Belle!”
Belle looked at her father with concern. Was it as Mrs. Sharone said, that he was suffering from delusions?
Her father grabbed her hand and ran out the door with her. “Go back home. I must go to the Beast so he doesn’t harm you.”
“It must be a misunderstanding,” she said. “You only meant to take a rose for me. You’re no thief. Surely this…Beast will understand, when I explain.”
Her father stared at her in horror. “Absolutely not. You’re not going anywhere near that animal.”
Belle raised her eyebrows. “I will be accompanying you back to that castle with or without your blessing, Papa. Perhaps hearing your side of the story from a woman will soften the Beast’s heart enough to let you go.”
They headed back into the woods, hand in hand. Belle wasn’t sure what she feared more…finding out her father was indeed suffering from delusions and hallucinations…or finding the Beast.
***
“This is it,” Belle’s father whispered, staring at the tall wrought iron gate. “Please, dearest, go home so I can die knowing you are safe.”
Belle shook her head. Her father held many strange beliefs, and she’d never seen proof of any of them. Misplaced items around the cottage were not proof of pixies, as much as her father insisted that was so. If the lady who ran the Institution was right about his delusions, Belle needed to know.
“I insist on meeting this Beast myself, Papa,” she said quietly. “You can’t dissuade me.”
“Belle, I—I demand you leave here at once.”
Belle shook her head. She was nearly twenty years old now, not a little girl.
Her father sighed at her disobedience and pushed the gate open, shuddering when it creaked. “He’s expecting me. I suppose we should get this over with.”
They walked up the path to the front door. Belle lifted her hand to knock, but it opened by itself.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” Belle called. Her voice echoed in the cavernous front hall.
A roar shook the stone floor, and Belle jumped in fright, grabbing her father’s shoulders.
“He’s downstairs,” Henry said ominously. “In the dungeon.”
“Lord in Heaven,” Belle whispered.