Belle Ch. 02

When Belle awoke it took a moment for her to realise that a) it was not a dream and she was indeed still stuck in the castle, and b) she was alone in bed. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes sleepily, the bright morning light streaming in through the windows. He was at his desk, scribbling furiously. She watched him for a few minutes, unsure of whether to say something, checking quickly under the sheets to check she was still clothed.

Without so much as a glance at her he stood abruptly and made towards the door. "Come," he said shortly, still not bothering to look at her.

She slipped out of the bed and followed him warily, pausing at the door as he strode around the corner then hurrying to catch up. He pushed through a door near the bottom of the stairs, revealing an abnormally large dining hall.

"Sit down and I'll get breakfast," he told her, before sweeping back out. She did so, perching on the edge of her seat, feeling dirty for having worn the same clothes two days in a row. He returned shortly with a plate of croissants, accompanied by a bowl of honey.

Belle picked at one lazily before setting the other half down on the table, brushing the crumbs off herself, not really in the mood for eating. However, he wasn't in the mood for letting her get away with that.

"Belle, eat your breakfast. Be grateful that you even have it after your disgusting behaviour last night." he warned her, piercing blue eyes watching her now.

She almost choked on the piece she was chewing on in surprise. Disgusting behaviour?! She'd only defended himself from him. Glaring, she picked up the croissant and took a ferocious bite out of it, scowling,

"And while we're on the subject, if you ever dare to hurt or attempt to hurt me in such a way again, keep in mind I will return it and it'll be ten times more painful, with an additional punishment. I'm not one who takes delight in causing pain but if you insist on it I see no other way to correct you. This is my house and as master of it I expect to be treated as such, with respect."

"I said sorry-"

"Sorry's not good enough. I was soft with you last night because I understood you were distressed but don't expect me to do so in the future unless you earn it."

Face darkening with annoyance, she stared down at her plate as she finished the croissant, swallowing the last of it. Taking no notice, he took another, devouring it quickly.

"You were talking in your sleep last night," he added, only just remembering.

"Was I?" asked Belle indifferently, knowing full well that she had; she always did when she had nightmares.

"Yes. You were whimpering as well...I don't know what you were dreaming of though. You said something about...walls?"

Wolves.

"Maybe. I don't remember my dreams."

That's a lie.

Wolves chasing me, surrounding me, tearing me to shreds as they dragged me down with bloodied muzzles.

He leant back in his chair, sighing. "I see. "

"When can I go home?" she asked, despite knowing the answer.

He coughed in surprise, surveying her for a moment. "You don't get to go home."

"And when was this decided? Surely I should only have to stay for as long as you would have imprisoned my father? And nothing more should be expected of me than you would have of him?"

"Are you trying to anger me, Belle?" he said, his voice lowering dangerously.

"Answer my questions and I'll answer yours." she replied coolly, eyes staring straight back into his.

"Don't start trying to play games with me. It'll only end up all the worse for you."

"Answer my questions." she insisted, defiance growing.

"Belle..." His teeth were gritted, now, nails digging into the tale.

"What're you going to do? Rape me like you tried to last night?" she hissed at him, eyes full of hatred.

For a moment he froze like she'd stabbed him.

It wasn't like that.

Then his anger bubbled to the surface, pushing past his guilt as he grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her close, his grip so tight she thought her bones were going to snap. Bizarrely, in the heat of the moment all Belle could think was how his eyes looked more green than blue now.

"Are you a masochist or just plain stupid? Do you want me to hurt you?!" he roared at her. "Either way, I'm nipping this in the bud," he growled, pulling her closer, tugging her over his knees. She thrashed about as he grabbed a handful of her hair, a strong leg pinioning down one of her own, his free hand pulling up her skirts and the elbow of the other digging firmly between her shoulderblades. She shrieked at his touch, trying to reach behind and clawing at his hand, but he simply shoved her hand aside, pulling her underwear down in one swift movement.

"Lemme -- go! Get off m -- ahh!" Belle let out a cry of pain as she felt his hand smack firmly against her bare bottom, trying to wriggle away from the already-unbearable sting. Yet no relief came, only another, sharper swat, lower down this time so it caught the tops of her thighs. And another, and another, as he peppered her skin with firm, sharp blows, completely ignoring her pleas for mercy.

"You-" smack! "-must-" smack! "-must-" smack! "-learn-" smack! "-to-" smack! "-be-" smack! "-more-" respectful!" He growled as he spanked her, hitting her even harder on the last word. Her bottom was already rosy pink, handmarks just about visible on her pale skin.

She sniffled, beginning to sob, still struggling though his grip was firm. He felt her tears begin to wet his leg, pushing away a pang of pity as he rained blow upon blow on her, skin now bright red and hot to the touch. Pausing, he rested his hand on her cheeks softly, feeling the heat from them as he slowly rubbed, then, as Belle gave a sigh at the soothing feeling, brought his hand back up and began to spank each cheek alternately, watching the firm flesh jiggle under his palms, the sudden shock of the pain returning making her cry out.

"P-please- I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to --" she started through her sobs, but he cut her off, smacking even harder.

"Don't lie to me! You thought you would see how far you could push me, didn't you? Wanted to be obstinate and rude, thinking you could get away with it!"

"Ah-ow! -y-yes! Yes! I'm sorry! Ple-ow! -- please -- "

And then, surprisingly, he stopped all of a sudden, the sounds her small whimpers and his slow breathing.

"Now, I want you to go and stand in that corner, in front of that mirror," he instructed her, "Do not pull up your underwear, touch your bottom, fidget about or otherwise try to draw attention to yourself, otherwise you'll be standing there with your hands behind your head. Understood?

She nodded, still sniffing, and he let go of her, allowing her to walk the short distance to the mirror. Watching her, he saw her dress fall back down to her knees and added, "Actually, Belle, I'd like you to hold your skirts up to your waist."

Grudgingly she did so, noticing in the mirror his slight smirk as he admired his handiwork. Then he sat back in his chair, taking another croissant and closing his eyes as he took a bite from it.

Quickly Belle took the chance to give her stinging rear a quick rub, trying to soothe some of the fiery redness, but his voice made her freeze. "Don't make me put you over my knee again to remind you to listen to what I say..." he warned her, having must have heard the rustling of her dress. She bit her lip and put her hands back to her hips, making sure the dress fell down at the front enough to hide her most intimate part.

After a few minutes, her arms had already begun to ache and the soreness hadn't reduced in the slightest. First spanking her, and then making her stand in the corner like a naughty child? As if he hadn't patronised her already.

"You can come and sit back down in a moment, but first I want to talk to you. Yes?"

She grumbled an incoherent "Yes" in reply and he continued.

"How old are you, Belle?"

"Eighteen."

"Well then, why did you think it was appropriate for you to behave the way you did so soon after I'd already scolded you for your yesterday's dramatics? I've seen children half your age acting with more maturity."

She said nothing, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"If you insist upon acting like a child, I shall treat you like one. If you start to behave like an adult I might find it within myself to show you some respect, and then we wouldn't have any need for silly punishments, but so far you've proved nothing."

He gave a long exhale. "I...I don't get any pleasure out of punishing you, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not a sadist."

Belle gave a snort, but he chose to ignore it. "Although I'm fully aware -- as I hope you are -- that I am now your master, I'd like us to be friends, in order to make this arrangement as easy as it can be for the both of us. More than friends, even. But that won't happen until you learn to be more respectful, and despite your defiance and boldness, you know full well that it'll just turn out worse for you in the end. Do I make myself clear, or do I have to repeat that again?"

"No. I understand." she said quietly.

"Good girl. Now, pull up your underwear and come and sit back at the table, please."

She winced at the slight pressure of her panties rubbed against still-stinging skin, letting her dress drop back down, and sat in her chair, almost shooting up again at the soreness.

"Just be glad I didn't use the whip on you," he muttered, and Belle gulped at the thought of it.

"Y-you have a whip?"

He laughed, which took her by surprise -- a deep, throaty chuckle. "No, of course not. I do, however, have a riding crop, so bear that in mind..." he added, almost as an afterthought. She blinked at him, not sure whether he was joking or being serious. Either way, he had an odd sense of humour.

I still don't know his name, she suddenly thought.

"If I may ask... what shall I call you?" she ventured, hoping he would simply give her his name, possibly with a nickname accompanying it.

"I think "sir" is appropriate for the next few weeks, don't you? That's what you called me before."

"S-sir? Not...not your Christian name?"

"I hardly think you've earned the privilege of knowing my name, let alone calling me by it." he said shortly, reminding her once more of the punishment she had just received.

"Yes...of course. I'm sorry, sir." she said humbly.

"How's your bottom? Truthfully, don't give me bravado."

"It hurts. A lot." she said honestly.

"Good." he said, though not unkindly (was that even possible?). "Come with me and I'll find something to ease the soreness." He got up from the table, beckoning for her to follow, leading her to an enormous room filled with shelves and shelves of books.

"This is your library?" she asked, looking around in wonder.

"One of them, yes. The others are in the towers; it saves me having to travel across the whole castle if I want a book." he explained as he pulled open a desk drawer, rummaging through it, then looking through the next after not finding what he sought. With a grin of triumph he pulled out a lidded pot, holding it aloft. Belle watched, feeling like a fool as she stood there quietly.

"Come here, cheri," he said, directing her to the sofa nearest him. Uncertainly she sat down, biting her lip in pain, barely registering the pet name.

"No, no. Lie down on your front."

Casting him a wary eye but resigned to doing as he said, she lay down, folding her arms under her chin. As his hand grasped her ankle she suppressed her instinct to quick out, glad she hadn't when, as he took the other and gently moved them up, she realised that he was only going to sit down.

He placed her legs back on his lap, her knees resting in the small gap between his thighs. It wasn't the most comfortable positions but she didn't shift, letting his hand brush against her calf as he got comfortable, the other on the small of her back, not moving as he delicately pushed up her dress to her ribs and slid down the cream satin of her panties, pulling them down to her knees this time.

She froze, closing her eyes tightly with fear, giving a small whimper.

"Shhhhh, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just looking, and then I'll make it better," he murmured to her, slowly and quietly as if he were talking to a child or an animal. She heard him give a regretful sigh, drawing in her breath sharply as his warm fingers stroked against her still-hot skin, his whispered apologies not much of a help. He unscrewed the lid of the pot and, dipping his fingers inside, put a dollop of it onto his palm, rubbing his hands together.

She winced again as she felt his touch, anticipation the sting, but his hands were pleasantly cool now as he started to rub the cream in lightly, smearing it over her pinkened skin. She let her body relax, the slight massaging motion of his palms almost enjoyable as he began to roam his hands across her, every now and again squeezing gently. Though a part of her wanted to wriggle away, make him stop, she couldn't deny it was soothing, yet -- exciting?

Without her realising her breath had begun to quicken, her cheeks starting to flush; but he had noticed, his own arousal at her willingness to let him touch and caress her only heightened by it as he brazenly started to explore her. He moved his hands upwards, rubbing her hips and lower back, tracing up her spine with a single finger, watching in amusement as she sighed and arched her back towards him, eyes fluttering closed. His fingers trailed down to her ass again, her body stiffening as he slowly ran them between her cheeks, walking them along her inner thigh. She let out a just-audible whine as he continued, the softest of touches running from the back of her knees to her ankles setting her hair on end, wetness beginning to pool between her thighs. Once again he lifted his hands and set them higher up, this time on her ribs, and unintentionally she let out a giggle at the tickly spot. He chuckled softly, leaning across her and placing a kiss on her shoulder, whispering to her, "Turn around."

She rolled over, pulling down her dress, cheeks red and face hot though she wasn't sure whether it was arousal or embarrassment at the fact she was, unable to take her eyes off his. He looked at her with a mixture of lust, longing and wonder, trying to control the beast inside him that just wanted to take her there and then, reminding himself of her unwillingness beforehand, not wanting to ruin it.

He took her by the hand and pulled her into a sitting position, her legs still sprawled across his. Grasping her underwear -- which was still at her knees -- as if he meant to pull them off, he stopped as if struck by a thought. "Are you a maid, Belle?"

She nodded, suddenly crashing back to Earth, her previous excitement becoming dread, her legs snapping tightly shut.

"I thought as much. Shhhh, I'm not going to do such a thing so soon, put that thought from your head immediately."

Her face softened, though she was still unsure as to whether she should trust him or not. After all, he had kept his word so far, hadn't he? She swallowed, mouth dry, suddenly feeling faint.

His hands still on hers, he raised one to her shoulder, the other still on her knee, playing with the brown curls that fell upon it, pushing them aside, then behind her ear too, leaning forward.

"Let yourself enjoy it, Belle. I'm not going to hurt you -- you'll see." he whispered in her ear, breath hot, lips brushing her earlobe, then pressed more firmly on the underside of her jaw, along her neck. She could smell him, that unfamiliar male scent of musk, breathing him in and letting her eyelids fall as he pushed the sleeve of her dress aside, kissing her shoulder.

"I want to kiss you," he murmured, planting another on her collarbone, "Everywhere."

He rose back up again, scattering kisses across her forehead, cheeks and nose, even her eyelids. It was still a surprise when his lips met hers though, light as a butterfly, before becoming more insistent, pressing against them hungrily. She had kissed other boys before, but he was a man, and despite her inexperience she quickly found herself kissing him back, even cheekily nipping his lower lip playfully. He pulled away in surprise, cocking an eyebrow at the mischievous look in her eyes and smiling humorously at what seemed to be her attempt at retaliating. He leant forward once more, tracing the outline of her lip with his tongue, slipping it into her mouth as he kissed her, exploring her mouth, teasing her tentative own. She whimpered at the loss of his lips as he pulled away once more, feeling his hands slide up from her waist to her back, tugging at the buttons at the back of her dress. He was infinitely slower and softer than he had been the previous night, letting her feel as though she had some control over the situation this time.

"Trust me."

Belle relaxed at the sound of his voice, soothing and somehow familiar in its sincerity, his hands against her back, pressing her chest to his own as he undid her dress button by button, kissing her neck and shoulders. She shivered as he bit her neck softly, gasping at the combination of slight pain intermingled with pleasure, his deft fingers making short work of the fastenings. She clutched the fabric to her chest as he slid the straps down her shoulders and arms, kissing everywhere his fingers went. Her breath came short and fast as he gently pulled her hands down, the front of her dress falling with them as his firm kisses distracted her from any embarrassment she might have been feeling, his smooth hands gliding along her shoulderblades and down her back, then moving one along her ribs and up her chest, lightly cupping her breast. He felt her stiffen in his arms, trying to pull back, but he held her firm, whispering gentle reassurances to her between kisses as he began to circle her nipple with his thumb, eliciting a muffled whimper of pleasure, her nipple quickly hardening under his touch, sparks of pleasure shooting past her stomach. Breaking away from her lips, he shifted his head downwards, catching the other between his lips and flicking his tongue across it rapidly, his thumb beginning to rub harder. She tipped her head back, daring to raise a hand and run her fingers through his hair as she tried desperately to hold back a moan as he started to suck, rubbing the flat of his tongue across her nipple as he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. He pulled away, looking up at her flushed face, a slightly crooked smile appearing.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, still gently pinching her nipple, as if her reaction wasn't answer enough.

"I...Ah! Yes, sir, that- that feels very good..." she managed to reply between gasps.

"Soon I shall make you feel a hundred times better than that, but you have to do as I say, aye?" he said, bringing his head back upwards, planting a kiss on her arched neck. She nodded, eyes still closed as she gave a quiet moan.

"Mmm....good girl." he murmured, nibbling on her earlobe. "I think we should go and have lunch, don't you?"

Belle opened her eyes, looking horrified as he let his hand drop down to her waist. "But...sir, I want to...I want you to...."

"I know, I know. All in good time, cheri. Do as I say, remember?"

Whining softly, she sighed, lowering her head as he helped her pull her dress back on, doing it up for her, only now beginning to feel confusion and worry over what she had just let him do. It had felt so good, and he promised her pleasures even greater than that, but what would the cost be? Her virginity? Her freedom? Because despite no matter how kind he was to her, how apologetic he was each time he hurt her, she was still desperately resolute that she would not spend her days trapped like some sort of pet.