La Belle et la Béte

There's an old manor house near where I live, only a few miles into the woods. It's completely obscured by the trees and you wouldn't even know it was there unless you spotted it from the air. I found it, though.

Stumbled into it, really.

It's pretty -- beautiful, even. But I don't think anyone's been there for a very long time. The paint is peeling off and the towers and spires look like they're about to collapse at any given moment.

And yet it stands.

Since my discovery, I've visited there many times to explore the old rooms and dilapidated hallways to try to get a sense for what it was really like living there. But it wasn't until recently I got the sense I wasn't alone. Call it a hunch, but I heard a creak behind me. I know, I know! The place is older than the fucking French Revolution, but it was different from all the other creaks and whistles and noises going on. It sounded like someone following me. They had to be walking in sync with my steps, because I swear I could feel a shift in the air and a muted thud with each creak. It had to be someone else.

And that's why I decided to spend the night.

Fucking genius! I mean, who wouldn't want to spend a cold November evening in a drafty old castle on the off chance that someone might actually be living there? Well, I did.

I had brought a sleeping bag and a pillow like some idiot on her first camping trip. Oh, and some books. Did I mention it was my first camping trip? Yeah. No food or water. Because, as we've established, I'm a fucking genius.

Another thing I didn't anticipate: animals. Foxes, to be precise. And birds. So many goddamn birds! How I managed to miss any of this on my previous visits, I can't for the life of me understand. But there they were.

I decided, in my infinite wisdom, to climb higher to avoid scaring anybody and setting off a screeching cacophony of birds, bats, and agitated foxes.

The spot I had in mind turned out to be rather nice for a change. The roof was still intact, as were the walls and most of the wooden flooring. I curled up with a book by a hole in the corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of my new... friend.

Turns out it wasn't a particularly interesting book. So I had a flick of the bean. I don't know why it was so good, exactly. Perhaps the atmosphere of the place set my imagination ablaze, or perhaps I just had a lot pent up energy. Whatever the case, I had the best orgasm in years. I must have made a noise (or several) because as I found myself screaming, someone stepped into the room.

He wasn't what I had expected -- 'he' being a generous description. However, I decided on 'he' because of the massive hair growth and that marvelous underbite. He stomped closer, sending clouds of dust flying up from between the floorboards.

"Are you well, miss?"

He placed a huge, paw-like hand on his thigh as he knelt down. He looked concerned.

I stared, bewildered, embarrassed and blushing something fiercely. He wasn't human. He didn't carry himself as a human, nor did he look human. But for all that, his manner and eloquent speech betrayed a clever intellect beneath his animal exterior.

"Miss?"

He spoke as though he belonged in a different century but had, through some accident of fate, ended up here. However, something about his words betrayed his origins. Had he lived here all his life? And if so, had he learned to read and speak from old works of fiction?

Perhaps wondering if I was in shock, he shook me gently by the shoulder.

"Ahhh!" I yelled, like an idiot.

He moved back away, concern turning into wariness. His posture changed, too. He seemed tense and on the verge of running. I held my hands out.

"Wait! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

He raised his brow, and then it dawned on him. "Y-you-- You were--! I'm so sorry! I'll leave!"

He turned and fled, running down the wide staircase. I followed. Naked except for my shirt and socks. How am I so stupid?

"Wait!" I shouted.

To my surprise, he stopped halfway down the stairs. "Don't move!"

"It's alright," I said, stepping closer.

"No, don't!"

I heard a creak and then a rumble. The wood shifted beneath my feet and I saw the stairs warp and collapse.

I jumped forward.

I landed in his arms.

I pulled us both down.

As we fell, I clung to his arms and chest. It was probably the only thing that saved me.

****

When I awoke I was in a different room and tucked into bed.

"You are an imbecile," he said, matter-of-factly. "Next time someone tells you to stop, stop."

I felt anger rising in the back of my head, boiling and overflowing with vitriol. "I'm not the stupid fuck who ran down a fucking staircase with my stompy ass meat chunks for legs! How much do you weigh, anyway? Three-hundred pounds? Five-hundred? It's a fucking miracle this place is still standing!"

He narrowed his eyes, and for the first time, I felt afraid.

As to prove me right, he flicked the claws of his massive feet and brought them down hard onto the floor. Again and again he stomped, the wood groaning under the intense force of his massive bulk. He snorted and stepped away.

The door slammed shut.

Good, I thought, good fucking job.

I sighed and slipped out of bed.

The floor was cold and I stepped carefully to avoid the huge splinters sticking out of the wood. My clothes lay arranged in a neat pile with my pants at the bottom and my shirt and underwear on top. My socks sat stuck into my shoes nearby.

"Fuck."

The door opened without a fuss and I peeked out into the hallway. Empty. But I had expected as much.

I put on my clothes and sneakers and hurried out of the room. Perhaps it wasn't too late to make amends.

When I couldn't find him, I called out. "Come back! I'm sorry!"

There came no reply. Either he didn't hear me, or, more likely, he didn't want to be found.

I walked the corridors and looked inside each room, but all I found was dust and molting furniture. On a table, a set of plates and silverware had been set out, but it looked to have sat there for well over a decade, if not longer.

"Please, I'm sorry! Where are you?"

I heard a sound and I turned around.

A door sat ajar. It moved back and forth in the drafty air moving through the house. I put my hand on the handle and pushed it closed.

Another sound -- much louder -- reverberated throughout the house and sent me cowering in fear. As the sound abated, I removed my hands from my ears and looked around.

A glow emanated from somewhere up ahead -- a pale, silvery glow that pulsed and flickered in the darkened space. I hurried toward it.

"Stop!"

I froze, afraid to even look behind me.

"Do not go in there."

"Why?" I said, slowly turning to face my host.

"It's the past," he said as he placed himself between me and the glow from the other room. "You... wouldn't like it."

"What's so bad about it?"

"It is my past. It is shameful."

I looked past his shoulder, seeing nothing but blue and white and flashes of silver. I couldn't help but wonder what it was. My feet inched closer and I placed my hand on his arm. "You can show me."

He hesitated and looked this way and that -- anywhere but fully into my eyes. I saw my chance. I ran to his right and dodged beneath his arm as he tried to stop me.

"No! Please don't--!"

The light pulsed and exploded. I was sucked headlong into a vortex and I felt myself torn apart. The light faded and I crawled to my feet. He was there, lying on the floor next to me. I helped him stand as best I could and brushed the dust off his clothes and fur.

"It's alright," I said. "Show me."

In front of us, a pair of curtains parted and through them stepped a woman dressed all in red. She had a cigar in one hand and a long match in the other. She blew the match out and flicked it onto the carpet.

A cloud of smoke enveloped her face. "Where is he?"

She turned and walked back into the room.

"We shouldn't follow," he said, touching my shoulder anxiously. "That woman is not very pleasant."

"Let's," I said, and turned, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. "I want to see."

Nervously, he let me take him with me, and we slipped past the thick curtains.

The room on the other side was sweet and fragrant and lit up by a multitude of dripping candles. I soaked in the character of the place, running my fingers along the carved chairs and tables and the ornate oil paintings.

"Can she see us?" I said in a whisper.

"No, I do not think so. She might hear us if we're being too loud."

He sank into a chair much too small for his frame and placed his hands in his lap. I couldn't help but smile.

"What is it?" he said, growing aware of my eyes on him.

"Nothing. It's just... you look adorable."

He snorted indignantly.

"No, no, it's not-- I don't mean anything by it. I just like you."

He stared at me as I realized what I'd just said. I blushed. "Well, you tucked me in. And arranged my clothes."

It didn't seem to help. He tusks grew, if anything, more defiantly jutting.

I was about to proclaim my innocence when he stepped into the room.

"Ah, Charmant!" said the woman. "There you are, my little piglet!"

I stared.

He was human, but beneath all the powder and wig and fine clothing, his eyes were the same. I looked to his beastly self sitting in the chair. Yes, the eyes were the same! It was definitely him. But how?

The Beast rose from his seat and moved behind me. He seemed scared almost. But something in his eyes betrayed another feeling, as well.

Lust.

The woman in red patted Charmant on the cheek and ordered him to sit in the same chair the Beast had just risen from. She pushed him down with a finger on his chest and spread his legs apart.

"Now, you sit right there... and don't move."

The Beast's grip on my shoulders tightened and I felt something poke at my behind. It was hard and growing harder still. My buttocks pressed up against it. Now I was certain. His knob was tight against my body with only a thin layer of clothing separating us.

"Oh, Charmant, don't be nervous," said the woman and peeled the rows of buttons down his fly. His cock flicked out, hard and ready. She grasped it and started pumping, slowly and deliberately.

"Hoo, look! You are so hard... so eager... so ready to be pleased. But do you deserve it? I think not." The woman tightened her grip around Charmant's shaft and squeezed him mercilessly. "A filthy little pig like you? I shouldn't think so. Here, I will pleasure you in a way more befitting filth such as you."

The woman in red stood tall and placed her foot on Charmant's leg. Slowly, she moved down his thigh and began to massage his rising erection. Charmant grunted and strained against the chair, trying to get free.

"Look at you squirming beneath my touch." She ran her toes along his shaft. Stroking it. Fondling it. Making him beg.

"Please..." he said.

"What was that?"

"I'm not worthy of you, beautiful, merciless mistress."

"No, you're not."

The woman retracted her leg and knelt down by his side. She placed her hand on his hardness. "I will milk you dry," she whispered. "I will make you beg for mercy."

"Yes. Please, make me beg!"

"Spit," she said, indicating towards her open palm. She rubbed the mess of saliva onto his cock and started to stroke. "You should be grateful, little pig. It's not every day I decide to show such leniency."

"Mmmh!"

She pumped faster. Her hand turned into a blur and he arched his back. The cum erupted in long white jets and splashed her on the hand. "What?! Clean this up, you filth!"

I pressed back involuntarily and the Beast caught me. I did not feel revulsion, I was simply aghast at the things playing out before my eyes. The Beast rubbed his meat against me.

"I--" he said. "I can't..."

It dawned on me: his hands. How long had it been? I turned around and looked him in the eye. "Do you need me to... help you out?"

"Please," he whimpered.

My fingers were already on his cock before he could finished the word. It felt so warm, so full of life. The veins beneath my touch. The pre-cum oozing from the tip. It was too much, I had to suck it. I had to feel his engorged meat stretching my lips. I had to taste his saltiness upon my tongue.

I was on my knees faster than anything I could have envisioned. The head smelled musky and strong and it filled my nostrils with its strong scent. I licked at it, let my tongue circle around it and cover it in drool. I wrapped my lips around it.

A grunt, muffled beneath his clawed hand, slipped between his fingers. I took it as encouragement and sucked his cock further into my mouth. The head, round and semi-soft, flared to life in my care as I pushed it down my throat. It strained at my flesh and pulled at my muscles, but the saliva made it all go down.

He pulled me off and stared into my eyes.

"You want to fuck?" I whispered. "Is the sight of you licking your own cum off her hand turning you on?" I pushed him against the wall and turned around. "Well? Use your claws. Rip them off!"

I felt his hand on my hip and then the sharp tear of fabric as he tore my pants apart. My panties followed and he knelt down to lick and paw at my taught glutes. His tongue was long and inquisitive and it found its way inside my wet hole. Deeper his tongue prodded as he readied my vagina for his pulsing meat.

I was ready. He was ready. He rose and slapped his dick against my rounded buttocks.

He was thick, thicker than when I had wrapped my lips around him, but somehow the head popped inside. I held my hand against his chest to steady myself and then I pushed back and slid his veiny shaft inside me. Fuck, it was big! I felt my pussy stretch and squelch as he moved his rod slowly in and out. The juices trickled down my thigh and the smell of pussy and cum filled my nose. Charmant had shot his load again. His thick seed sprayed across his mistress legs and and he lapped dutifully at the mess. The Beast rammed himself home. Seeing himself shoot his cum, again and again, unleashed something unspeakably wild within him. I had never felt so filled and I had never felt so thoroughly violated. It was something in his scent, something released as his exertions grew harder and his moans louder.

He came.

I felt it flooding my insides and splash by the mouthfuls onto my legs and feet. But the Beast wasn't done; it had been years since he'd last come. And there was something else he wanted. Something dirty and tight to also violate with his cock.

I reached back and spread my cheeks apart. I wanted him to. I wanted to feel his slick dickhead press against my butthole and pop inside.

The cum dripped as he moved back and slid his red, glistening penis against my ass. I pushed back, eager to feel it stretching my shitter and filling me to the brim with his thick, viscous semen.

"Do it," I groaned. "Fuck my ass!"

He obeyed. The mushrooming head plowed inside and turned my puckering asshole into a deep receptacle for his massive phallus.

I screamed -- partly out of shame, partly out of pleasure. But it was all good, so very, very good to be fucked and pounded and turned into his whore. I slammed my hips against his thighs and pushed his sword down to the hilt.

I couldn't take it, I had to flick my clit and squirt my cum all over the ancient wooden floor.

He grabbed me by my tits and squeezed and pushed himself tighter against me. Our bodies were so close it burned. In front of us, Charmant's mistress sucked his cock into her mouth and moaned. I moaned with her. We all did. The Beast shoved his final inch inside me and came. He came and came, and he roared.

The castle filled with our nasty noises. And the night wore on.

I'm still there, fucked into a stupor, and I don't know that I'll ever want to leave.