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Subject: Sub: Bondage, Beauty and the Beast
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Here's a couple from my collection that would look GREAT on your web
page...am planning on getting a copy to Rey for his site as well...
While I gotcha...how you doing lately??
Tom N8DXR
JLW [VAMP]
Sub: Bondage, Beauty and the Beast
An erotic version of BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
************
The air was cold on my breasts, and my nipples tingled, hard
points. Staring into the darkness of the velvet hood, I tried not
to shiver. I could hear the man pacing around me, inches away,
moving so quietly, and yet there was a impression of size, of
danger about him despite the silence with which he moved. I was
acutely aware of my nakedness.
"What do you think?" asked the precise tenor of my stepson. The
bastard.
"Lovely," the man said. His voice was odd, a deep, rich rumble
that vibrated pleasantly in my ears. He was behind me now. Suddenly
there were hands on my breasts, big hands, hard and calloused,
lifting the soft globes. Plucking delicately at my nipples. I
stiffled a moan. "She has very responsive nipples," he said.
"Yes, her tits ARE her best feature," agreed Randy. The
bastard. "God knows the Old Man thought so. May he rot in hell.
I really didn't need this complication, him marrying her with one
foot in the grave. My God, look at her. She's younger than _I_
am."
"Yes," answered the rumble. The big hands moved, drifting down
the bare,sensitive ripples of my ribs, testing the plane of my
belly. I fought not to squirm. I would NOT give them that
satisfaction.
The hand drifted between my thighs, long fingers burrowing
skillfully into the curls there, parting the lips that had gone so
shamefully damp. I frowned into the blackness of my enshrouding
hood. It seemed I felt a brush of fur against my inner thighs. Was
he wearing some sort of furred gloves?
"Well," Randy demanded. "Do you agree? Will you keep her here,
in your castle..."
A very long finger had found the opening of my cunt and was
slowly easing its way inside. "That depends," the man said. "I
still don't understand why you want to sell her to me."
"Because otherwise I'll have to PAY her her share of the
inheritance," Randy said, with exagerated patience.
Was that a growl?
When Randy spoke again, he sounded nervous. "I WAS going to
kill her, but I remembered you and Nimue and all the games you used
to play here..."
"Before she CURSED me, you mean." That was definately a growl.
"Ah, yes. Don't you see, milord? It's poetic JUSTICE. She
seduced my father with her charms, she would have inherited HALF of
everything rightfully mine...but instead, she becomes your slave.
Yours to torment, as you are tormented."
The finger probing me was joined by a second one. "Yessssss."
"She is, after all, nobly born," Randy continued. "You won't
often have a chance at such a beauty, thanks to Nimue..."
The growl was so loud I jumped. "True, curse you. But THIS
one...this one won't refuse me. I won't allow it." He released my
cunt, and suddenly hands were prying my bottom cheeks apart. A
finger stabed up, forcing its way into my anus. I arched my back
and gasped in pain.
"I'll take her whenever I want, however I want," the voice
growled.
"So," said Randy, voice vibrating with triumph. "It's agreed?"
"Not so fast. First I want to see her face."
And before I could even pull at the ropes binding my wrists, the
hood was snatched off my head, and I looked into the face of the
one who would be my master. And fainted dead away.
If anyone had told me when I married the old Earl that six
months later I'd be on my hands and knees scrubbing floors in the
nude, I would have called him mad. But so I was, knees aching from
the cold stone, my breasts rubbing against the chains that looped
from the slave collar, down between my legs, and up to my collar
again. The links, warm from my skin, tormented my hardened nipples
and clit even as they rolled against the openings of my cunt and
ass. They tortured me, those chains, with little spurts of heat
and pleasure and discomfort...almost as much as the eyes I could
feel watching me from across the room. My master's eyes. But I was
too much a coward to disobey him.
In my own defense, I think any woman would have hesitated to
challenge him. After all, the top of my head barely came to his
breastbone, and his shoulders were wide as a sword's length over a
chest roped in muscle. But even so, I could have found the courage
had he been no more than a man. But he was not a man. He was a
beast.
The fur covered him in a thin pelt, shiny and black as a
panther's everywhere except on his head, where it lengthened into
a magnificient mane that extended down his back. But there was
nothing feline about his face; there, at least, you could see the
shadow of the man he'd been. An arrogant man, a handsome man, with
high, broad cheekbones and a square chin, and a mouth that formed
a sensuous line. To either side of his head, great horns curved
like those of a ram. But his hands...I thought his hands human
until I worked up the courage to challenge him, hours after
regaining consciousness from my faint.
"I will not be your slave," I told him, trying not to tremble.
"My father..."
"Sold you to the highest bidder," he said, in a voice somewhere
between a purr and a growl, "Who sold you to me."
"Unlawfully," I said, lifting my chin.
The Beast shrugged. "Randal is now the Earl of Castlemoor. As
a woman, you're under his authority, Dowager Countess or not."
I swallowed. "And it would be his right to marry me to you.
But not sell me to you."
"Right," he said, "is what you take. And I am TAKING it." And
he lifted one of those human-looking hands, and inch long claws
extended from his fingertips.
So it was that I found myself scrubbing floors.
My chains still tormented me, but not as much as my bitter
thoughts. By now Randal had followed through with his plan to tell
all and sundry that I'd been killed by highwaymen. Thanks to his
high rank, noone would dare question him, not even my father, a
mere baron. I had no choice but to obey the Beast as I would a
husband, or feel his fist. Or claws. "Brianne," he said from
his corner, and I started.
His eyes shown green fire at me. "Come here."
I licked my lips. My reprieve, such as it was, had just come
to an end. I knew he wanted more from me now than playing the
menial.
Wishing I dared stall, I stood and walked toward him, chains
jangling softly. Folding my manacled wrists in front of me, I
waited. "On the floor," he ordered. "On your back."
Gnawing my lip, I lay down and looked up at him as he sat there
in his massive carved chair. His booted feet were inches from my
bare toes. "Now rest your heels on the arms of my chair," Lord
Beast said, his voice a deep, thrumming purr.
I obeyed and swallowed again, realizing that this pose spread
my thighs and exposed me completely to those green eyes.
"Very nice," he said, leaning forward in the chair. "I like
the way that red hair of yours pools around your face. And your
nipples..." He licked his lips, looking uncomfortably like a tiger
anticipating a meal. Green eyes stared directly into mine, the
pupils vertical slits. "Caress yourself for me."
"What?" I squeaked.
"Your nipples," he growled, impatient. "Roll them between your
fingers." I thought about refusing, but a scratching sound caught
my attention. He was extending and retracting his claws like a cat
kneading a cushion. I lifted both hands, listening to the chains
clank, and caught my own pointed nipples between my fingers.
Slowly, I began to roll them.
"Stretch them upward," he ordered.
I pulled the soft, pink flesh and tried not to groan at the
sensation.
"That's right," he said. There was something hard and thick
growing against the tight fabric of his fawn trousers. "Grab the
whole breast. Lift it to me."
I obeyed, my fingers sinking into my own soft skin.
"They're quite big. I wonder...Can you lick them? " "I...don't
know. " I'd certainly never tried.
"Find out."
Reluctantly, I bent my head down as I lifted one of my heavy
breasts, tightening my grip until the nipple pouted into range of
my tongue. I licked...And squirmed as I caught my nipple a glancing
swipe.
"Oh, yes." His eyes were glowing like twin candle flames. "I
thought you could. Now masturbate for me."
Heat flooded my face. But there was something about those hot
green eyes blazing down at me that ripped away my will to resist,
and I reached down. My fingers threaded through cherried curls,
slid between my lips. And found, to my shame, that I was very wet.
My fingers glided to my clit and began a practiced circling.
Lord Beast began to unbutton his trousers.
I froze.
"Continue," he rumbled, even as he freed his huge, ruddy
erection.
Staring helplessly at Milord's cock, I rubbed my clit, feeling
hot wetness trickle furtively between my lips.
His hand, claws retracted, began to stroke up and down his shaft.
I gasped, unable to control my breathing, as one hand strummed
my clit and the other rolled my nipple, both seemingly of their own
wills. Lord Beast watched, his big hand working his shaft. His
eyes glowed. There was a sort of rigid restraint about him, as if
he was barely keeping himself from falling on me like a starving
lion.
I slid two fingers into my cunt. My hips rolled upward, and I
barely manged to still them. My hands might obey his orders, but
I didn't have to be so obvious in my lust.
"Tomorrow, I think," Lord Beast said, "I'll show you the dungeon
Nimue designed for our pleasure. I'd love to see you stretched out
in chains there, writhing as I paint those big breasts with
candlewax. I want to watch that noblewoman's arrogance turn to
helpless submission."
I wondered whether it was natural to have a cock of such size.
The Earl, even in his rare moments of ridgidity, had not half his
length.
------------
Eyes slitted, a lazy rumble in his throat, Beast stroked himself
as he watched me. My shame had begun to fade as my heat rose, and
I couldn't seem to stop myself from burrying my fingers deeply into
my wetness, each gliding entry painting fire throughout my mound.
My thighs were twitching, and I shut my eyes, gritting my teeth as
I sought the climax that danced, somewhere just beyond the next
stroke of my fingers.
"Open your eyes!" Beast growled, and I snapped them wide.
He was standing on his feet now, astride me, looking down from
his great height as his hand rode back and forth on his shaft. My
own picked up its pace, and I whimpered, twisting between his shiny
black boots.
"That's it," he purred, "I want you to come. Come watching me.
Come thinking about what I'm going to do to you. How I'm going to
take you. Soon."
I groaned, wildly excited, thrusting my hips upward at him.
And then, suddenly, the heat in my pearl exploded, thrumming
through me in hard ripples that made me scream out with raw, stark
pleasure of it. Distantly, I could hear Beast's purring rumble,
building in intensity toward a low roar.
Something wet splashed onto my upturned face, hot and white.
Gasping, I looked up at him, towering above me, and licked his
come from my lips.
------------
I stood close to the fire, savoring its warmth while I tried not
to stare hungrily at my master. He was seated at an elaborately
carved dining table, eating with neat, precise movements of his
knife. My stomach rumbled. I'd had nothing to eat since before my
kidnapping the previous night.
Milord put down his knife and leaned back, eyes going to me.
"Come here," he said, and I stiffened at a wave of heat. I
remembered all to well what had followed those words this
afternoon. But I also knew better than to refuse, so I padded
across the stone floor toward me, feeling my silk skirts sliding
around my legs as I walked. Beast had allowed me to dress after
our heated encounter, though the gown was thin silk that hid
little.
He spread his knees apart and pointed to the floor between
them. "Kneel."
I bit my lip as my heartbeat accelerated. Obediantly, I knelt
between his boots, feeling the warmth from his muscular thighs
bathe me.
Milord watched me as he reached out a long arm to the table in
front of him. Then his hand was before my face, holding a bit of
savory meat. "Open," he said, and I parted my lips like a child.
His fingers, covered in satiny fur, slid into my mouth, touched
my tongue, teased it with the bite. Greatly tempted, I managed not
to lick them as they withdrew. I chewed the morsel, hot juices
flooding my mouth.
Beast looked down at me, and in the firelight, his eyes glowed
with an uncanny fire. Then his hand was back, holding a piece of
bread. I nipped it from his fingers. My breasts were tingling, and
a memory teased its way through my mind; milord's cum splashing on
my lips.
Next he presented me with a goblet of wine, upending it as I
drank thirstily, feeling the tart burn slide down my throat.
So he fed me, and I ate from his hands, until suddenly he pushed
back the plate and goblet with sudden impatience. "Time for
desert," he growled, and his hands caught in the fabric of my gown.
Claws extended, and with one easy pull, he shredded it, leaving me
naked. Before I could protest, his big hands were at my waist, and
I found myself on my back on the table.
------------
"Milord!" I squeaked, as his ruthless claws made short work of
the last clinging tatters of my gown.
Then he stepped back from the table and stared. His lips parted
on a smile, and for the first time I noticed his fangs. I could
feel my cream trickling between my thighs.
Beast began to walk around the table, and I watched him as he
circled it, eyes fixed on me. Suddenly his gaze flicked to a small
earthen jar, and he reached over and picked it up. He dipped a
spoon in it, then held the silver utensil up to the light, tipping
it. A sluggish golden stream fell back into the jar. Then Beast
was leaning over me again, holding the spoon over my breasts. As
I watched, a stream of honey poured down to roll over my nipples
and pearl down the curve of my globes. I watched, fascinated, as
Milord dribbled a stream of honey over my breasts, down the curve
of my ribs, lingered to make a pool in my navel, then painted my
lower abdomen with shimmering gold lines. Then, finally, he poured
the honey directly into the soft fur covering my mound.
At last he stood back, and gave me that wicked, toothy grin
again. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth."
------------
I tensed as Milord bent over me, nervously aware of those fangs.
Then, as I watched, a long red tongue flicked between his lips and
swiped across my nipple, which instantly began to strain upward in
yearning. Delicately, he rewarded it, closing his mouth over the
pink bud and sucking it with such delicious skill that I whimpered.
Finally he released it, only to begin slowly licking the honey
still clinging to my breasts, laving them with long strokes,
pausing here and there to suck or nibble gently. I tensed each
time, but those fangs never did more than press softly against my
skin.
I began to wriggle a bit as he started working his way down the
length of my torso, tickling me a little in the process. He paused
to tongue the honey from my navel, sucked deeply at it, then passed
on...headed down my abdomen. A different tension invaded me. I'd
heard whispers from other noblewomen, tales of wickedly skilled
lovers, but the Earl had hardly been of that stripe. So when Beast
moved around between my legs at last and lowered his head, I
shivered in equal parts embarrassment and curiosity.
His first long lick made me jump as he tasted my curls, then
began to tug them gently between his lips. Then he deepened the
movement, tongue swirling around my pearl, flicking at my lips. I
jumped. Never had I felt such a rush of pleasure as that Milord
brought me with his skillful attentions. Then he burrowed even
deeper, stabbing his tongue into me, and I gasped.
He lifted his head. "You're wet," he purred. "Evidently you
enjoy the attentions of a monster more than you'd like to admit."
I writhed and moaned at his words. It was true, all true, and my
shame scalded me. But then his tongue was at work again, licking my
pearl, sucking it, and the pleasure of it drove every other thought
from my mind. I looked down, and I saw him looking back at me from
between my thighs. Half his face was hidden, but his eyes burned
with triumph and hunger.
I threw back my head and cried out as lust blasted through me.
Suddenly he stopped and pulled away from me. Standing, Beast
began to unbutton his trousers. In a moment, his male organ had
escaped the tight confinement they'd imposed to jut out at me. I
swallowed, feeling my eyes widen as he bent closer to me, aiming
himself. In the back of my mind was a flicker of disappointment;
I'd been so close to climax, and now I knew he'd be through with me
in a thrust or two. But then I felt him begin to push into my body,
his size stretching me in a way I'd never known. Even when I
thought he'd reached his limit, he kept coming, and I whimpered in
surprise.
"So big," I moaned, "so hot."
He grinned. "So TIGHT."
Finally he stopped, all the way in me at last. I licked my
lips, staring at him as he stood between my thighs. He caught my
calves and lifted them to rest on his shoulders, and then he began
to thrust. I twisted. I was no virgin, of course, but the Earl had
been nothing like this. Such size...I wished he would give me his
mouth again.
But then, as I lay there, feeling the slow, careful stoking of
his penis, a strange pleasure stole over me, and my hips began to
rock. He'd already gone on much longer than my husband ever had,
and the pleasure to be found in his thrusts was a delightful
surprise. My breathing roughened, and I gasped as he circled his
hips.
As if I'd given him a signal, he picked up his pace until he was
lunging hard against me, grinding his hips into the craddle of
mine, tormenting my pearl into a blaze. He leaned closer as he rode
me until his face was inches from my breasts. Hungrily, he began to
lick, eyes locked on mine. Unable to stop myself, I threaded my
hands into his mane, twisting them as his relentless thrusts seared
through me.
"Give to me," he rumbled. "Come. Come with a beast's prick
pounding in your cunt. NOW."
And he rammed as deeply as he could go.
I screamed as the waves of my orgasm pulsed through me with
hamerstroke intensity.
And he roared.
------------
Putting my back into it, I hauled the bucket out of the well.
The castleyard was abnormally quiet around me -- but then, the
entire castle was abnormally quiet for a structure of such size.
The only servants who seemed to be in residence were a forbiding
cook and a couple of timid maids. There was also a very brawny
footman, who gave me looks I didn't care for.
Bucket in hand, I straightened to look out the porticulus.
Beyond it I could see the long, rocky slope the castle sat upon,
rolling down to the shadowed treeline of the forest. Suddenly I
yearned for the still darkness out there with an intensity that
made me grit my teeth. But I knew better. There'd be no freedom
for me. I'd take my bucket inside the castle, and later I'd
present myself to milord in his bedchamber. Where, once again, he'd
shoot me to the heights of pleasure and the depths of shame. With
my willing, even eager, participation.
I was no better than a slut.
I thought of the shame my father would feel, if he knew,
thought of the stain I was bringing to our family. I'd been raised
better. But when the Beast touched me, I forgot family and pride
and God in the headlong rush to pleasure.
I became aware that I was staring longingly at the forest. I
felt a sudden, bitter need to rush out into the trees, to run from
my own hunger and milord's all-too-skillful hands. For if I stayed
here, I'd become his slave in spirit as well as in fact.
I started running for the porticulus before I even knew what I
was about, my slippers quick on the stones, the homespun skirts of
my working clothes fluttering about me.
I would not stay here to become a whore.
------------
Huddled with the rough bark of a tree at my back, I peered out
into the darkness and wondered if I'd made a huge mistake. In my
haste and impulsiveness, I'd neglected to bring food or money for
the journey, and my thin slipperes were hardly the shoes to wear on
a hike. But it was too late to turn back now.
I sighed and tried not to think about what Milord was likely
doing at this moment. He probably knew I was gone. And it was
virtually certain that he was NOT pleased.
Crunch.
I lifted my head. Something was moving through the brush.
Something large. I fixed my eyes on the shaft of moonlight cutting
through the trees and stared, my heart pounding. It was the Beast,
I knew it was the Beast....
A shadowed man shape stepped out of the brush, moved forward
into the light. Small, piggy eyes stared at me out of a whiskered
face, and a grin gaped, revealing rotten teeth. "Well, lads," he
said, "what 'ave we 'ere?"
As I stared at him, frozen in terror, three more men stepped
out of the darkness. All were dressed in mismatched finery, and all
were dirty, with something evil in the eyes. It occured to me that
Randal's story about my being killed by highwaymen might turn out
to be more prophesy than lie.
I hardly had time to scream before they were on me.
Everything became a muddle of impressions; hard hands, breath
stinking of ale and onions, rough fingers digging painfully into my
breasts, my thighs, my wrists. On the ground, black shadows over
me, hurting me, a hand clamped over my mouth to stiffle my
hysterical screams. Cold air on my lower body, my skirt around my
waist, a hardness poking me between my thighs. I tried to scream
but couldn't, couldn't even breathe...
And then suddenly there were screams, hoarse with terror, cut off
sharply. Screams not my own. The shadows around me surged and
rolled, and it seemed I was forgotten. The air was filled with a
horrible snarling.
"Wolves," I thought. I knew I should move, should run, but such
was my terror that I couldn't even stir.
Finally I managed to drag myself to my feet. They were gone,
disappeared.
I'd been forgotten. I whimpered in relief...
And then I saw the black man shapes on the ground, and realized
the brassy smell that almost choked me was blood.
One of the shadows on the ground rose, moved toward me. I took
a hasty step back.
Milord stepped into the moonlight.
A wave of relief broke over me, and I felt a broad grin spread
across my face. I took a half step toward him, holding out my
arms.
His lips peeled back from his teeth. "I don't know why you're
looking so relieved," he snarled. "Before the night's over, you
may find yourself longing for the company of these four bastards."
He'd brought chains.
"Apparently," Milord growled as he snapped the slave collar
around my throat, "I made a serious mistake in taking this off you
to begin with. Without it, you don't seem to appreciate your
position."
I had never seen his anger before that moment, and it terrified
me. A growl rumbled continuously in his throat, and his movements
were short and rough.
I sucked in my breath and drew on my failing courage. "Thank
you for saving me from those peasants, Milord." To my shame, my
voice was barely audiable.
"I strongly considered letting them HAVE you," he snapped, "but
I was afraid there'd be nothing left of you to punish."
With that, he turned and stalked off. Hands now chained behind
my back, I stumbled after him, dragged by the leash he held.
Somehow, I had to blunt his anger. "Please understand. I could do
nothing else."
He whirled on me, and I reflexiviley jumped back, almost falling
as I hit the end of my tether. "I could have raped you," he said.
"I thought about it. I could have fucked you without any
consideration, but no, instead I saw to your pleasure before
tending to my own. And you DID experience pleasure, both times.
Didn't you?"
I swallowed and told the truth. "Yes, milord."
"Indeed. The whole castle heard you screaming as you came. I
thought we could....I even unchained you afterwards. And how did
you reward me? The first chance you got, you ran for the woods.
You're lucky I didn't let them kill you."
I couldn't take it anymore. "Milord, I couldn't let you treat
me as a whore!"
"You have no idea how a whore is treated!." His eyes narrowed,
and something unpleasantly like a smile crossed his lips. "But you
will."
I stumbled after milord's broad back as he stalked into his
castle, my leash held tightly in his hand. He headed into the main
hall, his steps long and angry. I followed hastily, frowning; there
was a strange sound coming from the hall, loud slaps and gasps.
Milord stopped so suddenly I almost collided tripped on his cloak.
Cautiously, I peered past the powerful bulge of his biceps. And
gasped.
The footman was sitting in milord's chair, his shirt and coat
discarded over the back of it. The firelight painted his muscular
torso as his arm rose and fell, broad hand descending again and
again on the naked bottom of a woman draped across his lap. She was
squirming, her rump reddening u nder his steady smacks. I could see
the thick blonde bush growing at the base of her belly, the lips of
her vulva sprung apart by her bending posture. Throwing her head
back, she peered back over her shoulder at the footman, her eyes
bright, her cheeks as rosy as her bottom. "You've got...AH!...a
hard...hand, Jack! Ease off..."
"My hand isn't the ONLY thing that's hard, May."
The next smack seemed to echo, and she kicked and screeched.
"Oh, please, have mercy!"
"As if you WANTED it," Jack snorted, and stopped spanking her
long enough to plunge two fingers into her. "HA! You're hot as
blood pudding, you little tart."
Outraged, I threw a look up toward Milord's face, expecting him
to berate the lewd pair. Instead he wore a half smile I didn't care
for at all.
I huffed, and tried to look away, but my eyes soon slid back to
the footman and his all too willing victim. She was squirming
energetically, but the effect of her movements seem intended to
lift her bottom for Jack's paddling rather than escape.
"As much as I hate to interupt this charming scene," milord
purred at last, "I have another occupation for your hard hand and
no doubt even harder cock."
"Milord!" Jack gasped, and jumped to his feet, dumping the
unwary May in the floor. She shot him a glare as he hastened to
explain. "I was just disciplining this wench for allowing your
slave to escape."
"I know what you were doing," Milord said drily. "Come along,
Jack. You too, May. I think I can find a use for you as well."
Outraged, I struggled and kicked, my protests muffled by the
phallic gag Jack had tied around my head. A futile effort, of
course. Despite my bitter struggles, the muscular footman soon had
me bound to the set of parallel bars in milord's dungeon. My
calves, circled by leather bands, were fastened to each bar, with
my wrists attached to the bands. It was a pose which bent me
double and spread me wide, leaving me suspended in the air. Both
painful and humiliating, my posture made my cheeks burn with rage
and shame. Bitterly, I peered around milord's "torture chamber."
There were a number of stocks and racks in the room, obviously
constructed to hold unwilling prisoners, along with various chains
hanging here and there. The room itself was quite large, and dark
with it, torches smoking and sparking in stone wall sockets.
There was, however, one relatively comfortable looking chair, and
that one milord occupied, sprawled with one long leg dangling over
the arm. May curled at his feet. His breeches were unlaced, and
she was playing with his male organ in a lazy way. He had grown
hard watching Jack struggle to bind me.
The footman gave one of the buckles a last tug, then turned
toward his master. "She's ready, milord.
The Beast smiled.
The Beast looked from my bound, helpless body to Jack's eager
smile. "Indulge yourself, Jack. But I want to hear as many moans
of pleasure as cries of pain."
Jack's blue eyes widened, and he turned to stare at me. "You're
going to let ME...?"
"She needs to learn her place, Jack. And you're just the man to
teach her."
My mouth went dry at the smile that spread over Jack's handsome
peasant face. I tensed against his reaching hands....But instead he
turned away.
As I watched anxiously, Jack walked across the dungeon to a
table that lined the back wall. It was littered with various items
I couldn't see clearly in the dimness, but evidently the footman
knew what he was looking for, because he picked out a few objects
and carried them back to me. Turning to milord, he held up a piece
of small gold jewelry. "Nimue's enchanted pincers."
"Good choice," said the Beast.
Jack turned to me and let me inspect the device he held. At
first glance, it looked like a tiny lion's head with a open,
roaring mouth. "Can you guess where this goes?"
I licked my lips, but managed not to shake my head.
"Let me demonstrate." He reached toward my breast. I cringed
back, but to no avail. He slid my pointed nipple into the lion's
mouth. Instandly, the tiny gold jaws clamped shut. I gasped.
"Nimue cast a spell on it," Jack explained, enjoying my
reaction. "There ain't much in this castle that doesn't carry her
enchantments."
"Including ME," growled milord, and the footman winced at his
blunder.
Then the tiny lion head began delicately chewing my nipple, and
I forgot everything else. Its teeth were not sharp enough for
pain; a gentle glow of pleasure ignited in my breast. In a moment,
it had company as Jack applied another pincer to my other breast.
I squirmed, and Jack licked his lips, eyes hot. "She's got pretty
tits, don't she?"
"Yes," said milord. I looked up. His eyes, too, were locked on
me. But at his feet, May had taken his harded organ into her mouth,
and was beginning to lick it in long, teasing strokes. The Beast's
nostrils flared in lust. I whimpered at the twin lions gnawed at
their captive nipples.
Jack had turned away, selecting among the objects he'd taken
from the table. In a moment he turned back to me with a long,
cylindrical object. Carved of wood, it was covered in soft leather
except for its head, which bore a crown of knobs and rounded
spikes. "Now, milady, you've had your pleasure. It's time for the
pain," Jack purred.
I realized the object he held was a phallus. I jerked at my
bonds in rage and shame, but all my efforts won me was burning ache
in my limbs...and molten stares from Jack and the Beast. I subsided
sullenly.
"Don't stop now," said milord. "I DO so enjoy the view -- the
way those long legs flex and that white arse quivers..."
"Oh, aye," murmurred Jack. He gave the Beast a leering
masculine grin. "Well, if it's struggles you want, I'll see she
gives you plenty to watch." And with that, he poured more oil on
his long, thick fingers and once again began to pry at my cheeks.
Again, I was subjected to the violation of my anus by his peasant
hands. It was all I could do not to groan in pain and shame as he
stroked in and out of my bottom.
"She's TIGHT, milord," Jack said. "Seems to me if a man really
wanted to tame her, fucking this little hole might be just the way
to do it."
"It's occured to ME as well," said the Beast. "And that'
precisely what I intend to do."
Jack's lecherous grin faded into disappointment. I realized,
with a shock, that he'd hoped to be allowed to perform the
violation himself.
I stared bitterly at milord, and he gazed back, eyes hard.
Almost absently, he stroked May's blonde head as she eagerly
serviced him with her mouth. The sucking, smacking noises she made
sounded obscenely loud in the sudden silence, and I longed to tell
her to perform more quietly, until the ridiculousness of the desire
hit me. As if there was a decorous way to perform such a lewd act.
Milord's eyes narrowed, and I realized he must have read the
condemnation in my eyes. And in the next breath, he made me pay for
it. "Well? What are you waiting for, Jack?"
The footman instantly recovered his good humor, and bent to peer
at my bottom. I felt rough hands spread my tender cheeks.
Then he presented the knobbed phallus to my opening. With
exquisite slowness, he began to press the dildo into me, twisting
his wrist as he did so, so that the knobs stretched and scraped the
tiny orifice. I writhed, my body bouncing in my bonds.
"Lick her," the Beast commanded.
Jack looked up the contorted length of me and smiled into my
eyes. Then, deliberately, he lowered his head and gave my pearl a
long swipe of his tongue.
Jack licked and nibbled my feminine organs with wicked skill
even as he twisted the phallus he'd burried in me so that its nobby
head tortured my tender channel.
I writhed and whimpered helplessly, caught between the pleasure
of his tongue and the pain of the penetration. To add to my shame,
the pincers were still at work on my nipples, casting a hot and
evil spell on my helpless body. I should find no pleasure at all
in this. None. No decent woman would. And yet Jack's mouth was
skilled and warm, and the pincers opened and closed so
gently...Even as the knobbed phallus violated me in a place never
intended for entry. Desperately, I sought to distract myself by
turning my eyes toward milord.
He had twisted one hand in May's hair, and used the grip to guide
her as she licked and nibbled at his great shaft. Her skin looked
very white and naked against his black fur. Powerful muscles
rippled up and down his torso as he rocked his hips against her
face. His organ looked so very long and thick, and I remembered his
vow earlier to occupy the space now being violated by the dildo. He
was even thicker than it was...
"That's it, Jack," he purred suddenly, "Violate that white arse
of hers. Make the high-born bitch plead for mercy. She thinks I
treated her so badly -- give her something to compare my kindness
to."
His handsome lips curled back, revealing fangs, as he grabbed
May's head with both hands and held her still for his thrusts. His
back arched, and I gasped in surprise as she seemed to take every
inch of him down her throat. The Beast roared out his pleasure...
Just as Jack discovered just the place to tease with his evil
tongue, and I felt the first long ripples of climax begin deep in
my body. The twin lions' heads bit down sharply, and the footman
drove the phallus home with a single, brutal thrust...
And I followed my master into degraded ecstacy.
The room was still except for labored gasps. I fought to suck
in enough air through my nose, the phallic gag still shoved in my
mouth. Milord lay back in his seat, looking sated as May caressed
his furry testicles. Jack was watching me with greedy eyes. A huge
erection bulked in his tight trousers. He cast a wary look at
milord, then leaned over to pick up the last of the toys he'd
chosen from the table earlier. At first I took it for a bone
hairpin, until he reached forward and slipped the U shaped object
around the hood of my pearl.
I gasped and stiffened as the tiny thing began to twist against
my damp flesh. "Another of Nimue's bewitched toys," I thought,
squirming. "Is there no end to the woman's perversity?"
Jack smiled down into my eyes, then cast a quick look at our
master and began quickly unbuttoning his trousers.
"Time for something else, I think," said the Beast. "Get the
cane, Jack."
The footman's handsome mouth twisted into a grimace, and he
reluctantly buttoned his fly. I, however, was too frightened to
gloat.
I had reason to be. Jack went back to the table against the
back wall, and when he came back, he was carrying a short, whippy
rod in one hand.
Eyes widening, I looked through my spread thighs at him. He
grinned, set his booted feet apart, and drew back a muscled arm.
The cane whistled as it arched down and slashed across the cheeks
of my rump. I fought not to squeal at its bite.
"Oh, yesssss," said milord. "That was nice. Again."
Jack's blue eyes glittered as he stared at my bottom and took
aim again. His second stroke made me bounce in my bonds. I heard
my master purr in pleasure. The third blow was lighter than the
previous two, barely a sting. Several more followed, similarly
light. Light enough, in fact, that I became aware of the movement
of the device around my pearl and the pincers that still nibbled at
my breasts. And the Beast's green eyes, fixed on my twitching
bottom.
Then Jack slashed the crop down hard enough to make me squeal
behind my gag. The next one was barely a tap, and the next...
And so it went, until I writhed in the air, caught somewhere
between Nimue's magical devices and Jack's crop, delight and pain
melding until I ceased to know which was which. All the while, Jack
and the Beast watched me lustfully, and I could see their hungry
organs lengthening and growing ever harder. At any moment, the
footman was going to throw down that accursed crop and plunge his
phallus into me.
I gasped and whimpered, twisting.
The next blow painted fire across my buttocks, a flame almost as
hot as the one burning in my core.
The Beast surged to his feet. "That's enough, Jack."
The footman threw him a bitter look, but his brawny arm stopped
its desent.
"You've served me well tonight," milord said. "And I imagine
you've worked up quite a lust doing it. Take May to your quarters
and enjoy yourself."
A broad grin spread across Jack's face. "Oh, aye." He tossed
down his crop, then strode over and grabbed the naked blonde by the
forearm. "Come, my girl. I've got plans for YOUR arse now." He
swung her over his shoulder and sauntered for the stairs.
The heavy door banged shut behind him.
The Beast moved across the room on silent feet, then paused to
stare intently at my reddened bottom. "You know," he said, almost
casually, "I think Jack's got the right idea."
I stared up at my master, my breath caught in my throat. Nimue's
infernal devices and Jack's ruthless crop had ignited a fire in me,
and I would be more than happy to feel the Beast's thick shaft --
anywhere but where he intended to put it. He took a step closer,
and I cringed.
But cringing is highly ineffective when your wrists are bound to
your calves and you're hanging in mid-air, so the movement hardly
detered him. Instead he casually reached for my cheeks and pried
them apart with his strong hands. His fingers felt very warm
against my skin, even still burning as it was from Jack's cane.
Idily, the Beast flicked at my pearl, causing Nimue's toy to pulse
against it until I couldn't hold back my whimpers. Milord smiled at
the helpless sounds, then reached for the buttons of his breeches.
A moment later, his massive phallus was bobbing in the air, its
single eye seeming fixed on my bottom. I tensed myself, bracing for
his thrust.
Instead, the Beast lifted his fingers from my pearl and traced
them through my damp flesh, up toward the opening he lusted for.
Claws retracted, he tickled it, then delicately began to work his
forefinger into my anus, still well-greased from the use Jack had
put it to earlier. I snorted in pain behind my phallic gag, but
could do nothing to dissaude him as he continued to burrow
up my tight channel. Finally, in up to the knuckle, he paused, then
began stroking in and out. I swallowed.
"MMMmm," he rumbled. "I've been looking forward to this since
Randal stripped you in front of me. "
I made a protesting sound.
"Come now, Brianne. Surely you were expecting this?" He pushed
the finger in more deeply still, illustrating his point. "What's
the point of owning a slave if you don't bugger her?" Smiling
almost benevolently, he took his hand away and caught his organ
with it. I moaned, remembering how Jack's artificial phallus had
felt, the treacherous pain and pleasure of it.
Then the head of the Beast's big staff was butting against my
anus, and I knew I was totally helpless to save myself.
Milord entered my anus slowly, ruthless and relentless. His
green eyes glittered triumphantly down into mine, and he watched my
face hungrily as he sank into me. I shivered, feeling how thick he
was, how hot. It felt as though my bottom could not possibly
withstand his assault.
Suddenly, he reached up with one hand and I cringed as his claws
flashed. But he did nothing worse than cut the buckles that held
my gag in place. I spat it out, my tongue feeling thick and dry --
almost as thick as the huge shaft that filled me.
Milord paused, his hips cradled between my spread legs. "Care to
plead? " He sounded almost pleasant.
"Would it..." I stopped and licked my lips. "Would it do any
good? "
"No, but I'd love to hear it anyway." He began to withdraw with
the same agonizing slowness he'd used to enter.
"Forgive me...if I don't oblige you," I grunted.
"Quite all right." He grinned, showing fangs that reminded me
to watch what I said. I subsided -- and became aware of the pincers
that were once more gnawing my breasts. Milord's pelvis was rubbing
Nimue's toy across my pearl, sending streamers of heat twining
along my nerves. Something dangerously like arousal began to burn
in my core, stroked in some strange alchemy by the Beast's big
shaft. I shifted under him, and the movement teased my pearl, made
his penis torment my anus in a new and dizzying way. I gasped.
"That's it," said Milord, watching me closely. "Give in to it.
Learn to like it. Feel my cock in your tight little ass, fucking
it. You can't stop me. You might as well surrender to it. Because
your asshole is mine whether you like it or not, and I'm going to
bugger you whenever the mood hits me."
It felt good when he pulled out of me. There was something so
arousing about it, about that big phallus withdrawing and driving
deep. It hurt, yes, when he pushed into me, I felt so stretched, so
stuffed...but when he withdrew, he seemed to spark a kind of
pleasure. So it alternated, shuttling me back and forth between
agony and delight, faster and faster, as the Beast's nostrils
flared and he began to ride me harder and still harder. Until he
was lunging against me in long, brutal thrusts as I bounced in the
air, gasping at each thrust, at the endless upward spiral of
ecstacy he'd caught me in.
Until I hit the top of it. Closing my eyes, I screamed out my
climax.
"Oh, yessssss," said the Beast. And a moment later, he filled
my bottom with his cream.
Brianne lay on her side, the elegant white curve of her rump
exposed to my appreciative eyes. How delicious it was, thrusting my
hard flesh into the tiny clenching hole between her cheeks, feeling
her helpless muscles fighting my advance. Her great blue eyes
staring up at me as I forced my way deeper, wild with pain and
fear...and the slow, hot spark of desire. Who'd have guessed such
a haughty bitch capable of such passion? Of such a complete
surrender to a Beast?
Unfortunately, that surrender is not enough. Not if I am to
break Nimue's spell.
I can still remember her taunting voice the day she bewitched
me: "You think yourself such a master of women. You think yourself
too good for the likes of me. Well, see what luck you have without
that handsome face. Only one way may you break my spell: by
bringing a beautiful noblewoman to erotic submission -- when she
willingly embraces your mastery."
Typical of her. Nimue always was obsessed with slaves and
masters...or mistresses.
When Randal brought Brianne to me, I thought she was a gift from
the God I no longer believed in. When she responded to my caresses
with such eagerness, I thought to free her from her chains, in
hopes she'd prove her willingness to submit. I was a fool. Such a
beauty will not yield herself easily.
Obviously, I must take more drastic steps.
I continued in my campaign to teach Brianne submission in the
days that followed. To my delight and her discomfort, she proved a
very good pupil. In time, she came to quiver with anticipation
every time I pulled her across my lap for a spanking or chained her
to the bed for a session of erotic punishment. Her body knew that
each flick of pain would be followed by nibbles and caresses that
slowly built, driving her irressistably to climax. True, she fought
her reactions, but the power of her own body was too much for her
will. I saw her surrender a bit more each day.
But she wasn't the only one who was surrendering. There was
something addictive about mastering Brianne, about watching her
react to my mouth and hands and phallus. She was so hot, even as
she fought not to be. In time I was motivated less by a desire to
break the spell than the need to have Brianne, over and over, in
every way that occured to me.
Then came the day I reaped what I had sown.
I sat in the great chair in my bedchamber with Brianne and Jack
at my feet. Her wrists were bound to her ankles, and Jack held her
helpless in her arms, back arched, her full, pretty white breasts
thrust upward. My slave's long, alburn hair cascaded across Jack's
arms and over his thighs, and her eyes were closed, white teeth
biting her full lower lip.
Staring into her face, I dripped another drop of candle wax on
her nipples, and she flinched. Yet I could see traces of arousal on
her face, and knew it was because she wore a harness holding two
dildos buried between her legs. The phalli, being enchanted, were
twisting and thrusting inside her, bringing her ever closer to
climax.
I grinned and tipped the candle again, watching as another
molten drop joined the wax hardening on her nipples. The wax,
needless to say, wasn't the only thing that was getting hard. I
tried to decide how I was going to take her this time. I could
smell her arousal, so I knew she'd be deliciously wet. On the
other hand, I'd been making progress on teaching her to enjoy being
sodomized, and the idea of giving her another lesson was very
tempting...
"Well," said an all-too-familiar voice, "I can see you're
diligently trying to escape my spell."
Looking up, I saw Nimue standing in front of the fire, her red
hair blazing in its light, a snarl on her pretty lips. Her long
black gown, sown with astrological symbols, was cut to make the
most of her small breasts.
"You're a beast, Ian Duncan," she snarled, "And I'm going to
make sure you stay that way."
Bondage, Beauty & the Beast - Part 2
One minute I was pinned in Jack's arms while Milord dripped wax
on my hard nipples and twin dildoes thrust inside me. The next I
was free, standing halfway across the room. And the Beast was
kneeling in front of a tall, redheaded woman I'd never seen before.
He was naked, and I saw with a shock that thick, silver chains
bound his arms behind his back, wrists lashed to elbows. "Nimue,
you bitch..." he snarled, and I stared, realizing that the redhead
must be the sorceress who'd enchanted him.
"Be still, Ian," the witch snapped, and milord's fangs snapped
closed. He began to strain silently against his chains, but she
ignored him, turning instead toward me. I fought the impulse to
take a step back, and instead made a quick sign against evil.
"You're a pretty one," Nimue said, not sounding at all pleased.
"I see why he's so besotted with you. And I see he's made you
suffer these past days."
Automatically, I started to deny it, then closed my mouth. Why
should I defend him? He'd given me as much shame as desire, pain
as delight.
She smiled thinly. "Indeed. And not only has he tormented
you, he's made you enjoy it. And you a noblewoman, a lady from a
distinguished line."
How did she know that?
Nimue lifted a long finger and traced the gold embroidery
covering her black gown. "I know a great many things, Lady
Brianne. I know, for example, that you'd like nothing better than
revenge."
I tossed back my hair. "And why should I not?"
Her smile was lupine. "No reason, milady. No reason at all."
She began to pace around me, and I turned cautiously to follow her,
keenly aware of my nakedness. "I could help you achieve that
revenge you so crave, you know."
"Why?"
"Blunt, aren't you? Because it suits me. You've been
humiliated, as I have been humiliated. And we are both the victims
of one man." She paused and sent milord a long look. He peeled his
lips back from his sharp teeth.
"What do you have in mind?"
Nimue turned back to me, and one corner of her mouth kicked up
in triumph. "Justice, my dear. An eye for an eye. You do unto him
as he's done unto you."
I looked toward the Beast, who knelt by the fire, looking huge,
handsome...and somehow dangerous, despite his chains. It was, I
admit, an interesting proposition. "What do you have in mind? "
"Why don't we start simple, Lady Brianne. He put a leash on you,
so you may put one on him." And with that, she reached into one of
her bell sleeves and pulled out a length of chain attached to a
gold band. I took it from her long fingers and studied it
curiously. The little collar was no more than three inches across.
"I don't think it will fit him."
She laughed, high and musically. "It doesn't go around his
THROAT, you silly child."
The light dawned. "You jest."
"Indeed I do not. Would you like to put it on him?"
I looked back at him. For one of the few times I can remember
seeing him naked, his staff was limp. "In his present mood, I doubt
it will stay on him."
"Oh, that. I can remedy that situation." And she traced a
complicated sign in the air.
The next moment, milord's phallus began to lengthen. In
seconds, he was as thick and hard as he'd been when Nimue put in
her appearence.
I grinned wickedly and sauntered over to him. He bared his
teeth at me, and I froze, uncertain.
Nimue made another gesture. He froze.
Bending to him, I took the great, hard length of his staff in my
hand, then slipped the gold collar around its purpled head. Backing
away, I pulled the chain taut.
The Beast roared in startled pain, and I jumped.
Nimue had drifted up to my shoulder. "The collar," she purred,
"has teeth."
I hesitated again, then tugged more gently. Milord, eyes
blazing, heaved himself to his feet.
"Let's take him to the dungeon, shall we?" said Nimue. "Lead
the way, milady."
Turning, I drew my master after me by his rigid phallus.
------------
So it was that I found myself back in the dungeon, but this
time, I was to watch and enjoy. I sat in the chair milord Beast had
so often occupied when I was being punished. Jack sat at my feet,
stroking the inside of my thighs and looking a bit fearful.
I squirmed a bit as it occured to me that, since Nimue
evidently meant to free me, I should get up and leave rather than
participate further. Then I saw my former master pulling at his
chains, the muscles in his broad back working as he faced the wall,
and I settled back in my chair. The opportunity to see him being
forced to take the treatment he'd so often meted out to me was one
I simply could not resist.
"Ah, here we are!" said Nimue, and turned away from the wide
table that held the toys and devices my master had used on me. She
held a long, supple riding crop in one hand, slashing it in the air
to produce an evil swish. I saw the Beast throw a narrow,
green-eyed look at her over his thick shoulder. Grinning a bit, I
found myself wondering if perhaps Nimue would let me do the honors.
Evidently not. Nimue sauntered toward him, swaying her hips,
trailing one finger down her deep cleavage. Suddenly, without
warning, she raised the crop and brought it down in a brutal swipe.
It struck him with a muffled whap.
He didn't even jump, instead eyeing her hotly.
She rocked back on her heels and frowned. "I see that thick fur
affords you some protection. Well, let's see how you do with
this." And she gestured at the crop. Light flashed along its
length, and I blinked and looked closer.
The crop was suddenly studded with serrated metal teeth.
Nimue lifted it over the Beast's broad back.
"NO!" I gasped.
This time, he did jump as the crop slashed down across his
spine, but he made no sound.
"Nimue, you're going to injure him!"
She threw me a narrow look, mouth tight with displeasure.
"Nothing else gets through to him. He has to bleed. Jack, give
her something else to think about."
Instantly, Jack pushed my legs apart and began to lap between
them, much as he had on other occassions. This time though, I felt
no heat. "Stop it!" I hissed, pushing at his forehead as Nimue's
crop bit into milord's back.
"Don't be a fool," Jack hissed back. "Do ye want 'er to turn
YOU into somethin'?"
I forgot him and froze. There was something dark and shinning,
moving through milord's black fur.
Blood.
------------
I watched helplessly as Nimue lashed the Beast with her razored
crop, its steady swish and WHAP beating an evil rhythm. The fur on
his wide back shone red and matted with his blood. I felt ill.
Writhing, I fought Jack's hold, but he bore his body down on mine
to stiffle my struggles. The fear, the horror, I felt surprised me.
Milord had enslaved me, chained and tormented me, sodomized and
forced me, and yet watching Nimue beat him was agonizing.
For looking into her set face, her fixed, cold eyes, I knew she
meant to kill him, and the thought of his death left a great ache
in me. I was a fool to feel that way. I should rejoice in his
fate, in the prospect of freedom it brought me, but I felt no joy.
Instead I kept remembering the pleasure he'd given me with his
tongue, with his hands, the feel of his strong, hot body moving
against mine, driving his shaft into my core with liquid strokes.
And the look on his face at those times, the hunger that was more
than sexual. As if he needed something from me even he didn't
understand.
Even in his deepest rage, when I'd tried to escape him, he
hadn't been able to bring himself to truly hurt me. And now Nimue
would certainly kill him.
Deep in my soul there rose a silent scream of protest as I saw
his great body arch in agony under Nimue's vicious blow, then
suddenly go limp.
The witch threw down her crop in disgust. "He's unconscious,
the useless lout. Well, I'll get no pleasure out of him now.
Jack, come here."
Such cold fear stole over the footman's handsome face that I
felt a spurt of pity for him, though he'd never been my ally.
Reluctantly, he pulled himself off me and went to meet Nimue.
"Down on the floor!" she barked at him, and he obediantly lay
down, though I saw a quiver of fear roll through him as he did so.
Nimue tossed up her skirts and mounted him like a horse,
grabbing his limp shaft with one hand and aiming it toward her
opening. I heard her mutter a spell, and he hardened even as she
drove herself down over him, engulfing him. Ruthlessly, the witch
began to ride the hapless footman, grinding her pelvis hard against
his, her face contorted with lust and hate. Her eyes, black in the
torchlight, were locked on milord's bloodied back.
------------
Nimue's rhythmic gasps and grunts filled the dungeon as she
rode Jack, grinding hard upon him as she sought her climax. I shot
a hasty look at her and crept toward milord, who hung in his
chains, his maned head lolling.
"Milord," I hissed. No response. "Master!"
He stirred, lifted his head at last. His great green eyes
opened and fought to focus on me. "Brianne...Brianne...what're
you...?" His words were slurred, barely audible over Nimue's
obscene grunts.
"Thank God!" I crossed myself and sidled closer. "I thought
she'd killed you!"
"Give her...time." His lips twitched, then he sucked in a
breath of pain.
I stole a look at the witch. Jack was arching under her, his
hands clamped over her small breasts. "How can I help you, milord?"
"Get you...gone. She'll kill...you."
He was right. I knew that, knew I should slip away while she
was distracted by Jack and milord. But it wasn't in me to leave
him.
"No. I can't let her kill you, milord. Isn't there something
we can do?"
It seemed his eyes sharpened, focused for the first time since
Nimue had begun to flog him. "You mean that. You'd help me?"
I lifted my chin. "Yes."
He studied me, blinking hard, obviously fighting the dizziness
of blood loss.
"There is a way," said milord at last.
------------
"It will be..." the Beast stopped to gasp in a painful breath,
"...very dangerous."
"Anything is better than waiting for Nimue to decide to turn
her magic on me," I told him stoutly.
He stared at me intently, and I saw doubt and fear and hope do
battle in his green eyes. Finally he nodded his maned head. "Very
well. Then listen closely, Brianne. In my library you will find
a small porcelean statue of kissing lovers. Turn it over and look
at its wooden base. You'll see a small raised square. Pry the
square off, and you'll find a tiny vial inside. That vial contains
a potion which cost me the better part of my rents for two months.
I'm told, assuming I have not been decieved, that the potion will
strip a witch of her powers forever -- if it is poured over an open
cut in her skin. The problem will be, of course, inflicting the
wound and pouring it on Nimue without her killing you before you
can complete the process."
I felt my stomach knot. As problems go, that one was nothing
to laugh at.
------------
Of course, the immediate problem was how to get out of the
dungeon without drawing Nimue's attention. Luckily, she was still
engrossed in riding Jack, and evidently wasn't far from climaxing.
I began to slink toward the door.
"Lady Brianne!"
I stopped and bit back a curse. "Milady?"
She gazed at me suspiciously, frozen on top of Jack. Beneath
her, the footman stared at me, then flicked a look at Milord. His
eyes widened, and I wondered whether he knew what the Beast kept in
his library.
Apparently he did. One of his hands moved up to Nimue's
buttocks and pinched her viciously. "Come on, women! I want to
come!"
Instantly, the witch forgot me and snapped a glare down at Jack.
He whitened. "You forget yourself, sirah," she purred. "Evidently,
you need a lesson in keeping your place."
I disappeared up the stairs while she was chaining him to the
wall. Makin my way toward the library at a trot, I heard his first
scream. Cringing, I began to run.
------------
The glass vial was exactly where milord had said it would be,
and I was soon on my way back down the dungeon steps with it
clutched in my hand.
I found Jack writhing in chains, a horrible, strangled sound
bubbling between his lips. Nimue was lashing a riding crop across
his loins, paying especial attention to the phallus she must have
been keeping erect by magic.
Licking my dry lips, I wondered how I was going to cut her. How
deep did the wound have to be? Could I scratch her with my nails?
Was there something at the table I could use?
Cautiously, I edged toward it, fighting to ignore Jack's cries.
The table was a massive affair built of scared oak, and its surface
was littered with various whips, clamps, gags, dildoes, and other
things I had no name for. My attention was caught, with a degree of
horror, by a phallus in a leather harness apparently intended to
hold it around the wearer's hips. The dildo was made of wood and
leather, like others I'd had used on me, but unlike them, it was
studded with needles. I imagined the agony the device would
inflict, and shuddered in horror.
"Well now -- THAT'S an idea," purred the witch in my ear.
I jumped and stared at her wildly. She still held the crop in
one hand. Behind her, Jack had apparently blacked out.
Nimue picked up the harness and its demon phallus. I felt my
face go cold, and I wondered if she intended to use it on me.
"He fucked you up the arse, didn't he?" the witch asked
suddenly.
I blinked at her numbly. There was a roaring sound in my ears.
She smiled. It was a terrible smile. "How would you like to
return the favor?" And she held up the needled dildo.
------------
"NO!" I backed away, shaking my head.
"Oh, come now, Lady Brianne," Nimue said, following me with the
demonic phallus held by the harness. "Surely you haven't lost your
taste for vengence."
"My lord may have tormented me, but he was never vicious. And
he saw to it that I found pleasure in what he did." I stopped,
surprised I'd said it. But it was true. I had enjoyed it, on some
dark level. Even the pain. For a moment I felt a spurt of shame,
then pushed the thought away. I had to save my Beast.
Nimue's lush mouth tightened, and she made a sweeping gesture.
And the phallus was harnessed around my hips. I stared down at
its lethal jut in horror, then automatically reached to unbuckle
the straps.
"You realize, don't you," the witch said coldly, "that if I so
wish it, you will fuck him like a rabbit. It would be much better
for you if you do it of your own will."
I stared at her, feeling sick. "No," I said, fighting to keep
my voice level.
"I'd never have guessed you such a coward, Nimue," said the
Beast suddenly.
She forgot me, whirling toward him with narrowed, snapping eyes.
"You dare call ME a coward? You, who were too afraid of Jovas to
marry me?"
The Beast's lips moved in an ugly smile. "I didn't fear Jovas.
I just didn't like the ugliness in you."
Her eyes widened. Then she whirled toward me and threw her arms
out, and I knew, with gut-knotting horror, that she was about to
ensorcel me into sodomizing milord with the dildo.
But Nimue miscalculated. One long hand flew out past the
Beast's face. Quick as a blink, he sunk his fangs in her wrist.
The witch howled in agony, grabbing her forearm and staring down
at the wound in shock. I flew toward her, seeing my chance. "Here,
let me help!" She let me catch her forearm....And I broke the vial
over it, spilling the scarlet potion over it like blood.
"BITCH!" Nimue screamed, and threw me away. "I'll see you burn
for that, you highborn trollop!" And she drew a complex sign in the
air.
Nothing happened.
The Beast laughed.
Suddenly the air was full of smoke and light, and I heard a
high, hopeless scream that could only have been Nimue. When it
cleared, a tall blond man stood beside my master. He was handsome
and broadchested, and there was such an aura of power about him
that I longed to drop to one knee.
"Well met, Ian Duncan!" the man said, grinning wolfishly at my
master.
"And you, Jovas," milord said, smiling back with all his teeth.
"I gather you've come for your new property."
The blond turned his lupine smile toward Nimue, who cringed back
from him in horror. "Indeed I have. So, witch...I hear you've
been very, very bad." He moved toward her, stalking, and she
backed away. "You know what happens to naughty little girls, don't
you?"
------------
"BASTARD!" screeched Nimue, which was exactly the wrong thing to
say. For Jovas laughed and grabbed her hair in one big hand, then
snatched her nose to nose with him. She screeched again as she
rose on her toes. "Now, that's no way to talk to your master,
little slave."
"NO!" She flailed at him. "I'll not!"
"Oh, but you are my slave. You've got no powers to protect you
now, your shield is gone. You're mine." Those last words were
delivered in a purr to rival milord's. Jovas' big hand tightened,
forced the witch inexoriably to her knees. Then he looked up,
toward my master. "This is a grand day, Ian Duncan. One I've
hungered for. Would you care to savor it with me?"
The Beast's smile made my blood chill. "Oh, aye. I would, at
that."
Jovas gestured, and for a moment I was blinded as light burst in
the room. When my sight cleared, Jack and milord were free...And,
thankfully, uninjured, their wounds healed.
That done, the sorceror turned and dragged Nimue toward milord's
great chair. He fell into it, and dragged her across his lap.
Over the sound of tearing fabric, as Jovas did away with Nimue's
gown, I asked my master, "Who is he?"
"A very great wizard," said milord, sounding darkly pleased. He
moved up behind me and took my breasts in both hands. "He's had a
yen for Nimue for years, but she would never yield to him. And he
is hardly the sort to submit to a woman's whim. She managed to keep
him from her with a magical shield, but when you doused her with
the potion, the spell collapsed. Now she's at his mercy."
And it was rapidly evident he had none. As we watched, the
wizard began to pound her bottom with his broad, hard palm. She
kicked and screamed, cheeks reddening under each hard smack, the
firm, rounded flesh shuddering. Jovas watched her naked rump with
hot, lustful eyes, a wide grin on his face. Jack moved up beside us
to watch, his eyes burning with cruel enjoyment of his tormentor's
punishment. My master squeezed my nipples, kneading them
ruthlessly, and I gasped, feeling my own arousal grow. I began to
understand why the Beast took such delight in spanking me. Milord's
phallus was thick and hot against my back.
The air rang with Nimue's howls of protest, the sound competing
with the loud smacks of Jovas' hand. Her naked breasts quivered
against his legs.
They would, I knew, be merciless with her.
My own hot anticipation of her punishment was a revalation to
me. Almost as much as the quiver of envy I felt.
------------
My master rolled and squeezed my nipples, and I groaned,
watching as Jovas pounded Nimue's bottom. I could see her sex, red
furred and pouting, flashing as her long legs kicked.
Suddenly Jovas stopped and jerked Nimue to her feet. I felt a
twinge of disappointment that the display was over.
Then I forgot it as Jovas pushed her to the stone floor and
pounced on her, sucking and biting at her nipples. She pounded at
his shoulders, but he ignored her struggles, squeezing her breasts,
reaching down between her legs with the other hand to find her sex.
Nimue cursed and bit at him, and I saw him lift his head to murrmur
something. A spell, apparently; light flared, and when it faded,
the witch was still, as if wrapped in invisible chains. Milord
slipped a hand down and began to caress my dampening flesh.
Jovas' tongue looked very long and red as he licked her nipples
until they grew into blushing points. His hand, stroking steadily,
slid along her petals with increasing ease and speed, as if she was
growing wet under his demanding attentions. He murmured again, and
his robes disappeared in a flash of light, revealing a body as
long, muscular and hard as any knights. I stared in fascination at
his muscular rump as he lifted himself and fitted his body between
Nimue's slender legs.
His hips lifted, slid downward, and for a moment I could see his
thick staff...until he sheathed it in Nimue. Jovas went to work
over her, muscular body rising and falling over her white,
submissive one. Sweat rolled between his shoulder blades. I grew
very hot.
Suddenly Jovas rolled over, bringing Nimue on top of him without
missing a stroke. He craned his head around to look at us, then
grabbed the witch's bottom and pulled her cheeks apart.
Instead of answering Jovas' inviting gesture, milord grabbed my
shoulders and turned me to face him. Applying gentle pressure, he
forced me to my knees. Knowing what he intended, I grinned and
took his staff into my mouth, rolling my tongue over it to coat it
thoroughly in salavia. He thrust his hips against my face, and I
moaned, knowing what he intended to do to Nimue once I had his
organ well-lubricated.
It occurred to me as I sucked him that I shouldn't be
participating with such enthusiasm in the witch's humiliation. Then
again, I was equally well aware of what she would have done to me
if we had not defeated her, and I could not escape the feeling that
she was getting no more than she deserved. I sucked my master even
harder.
At last milord pulled free of my mouth and strode toward Nimue
and Jovas. Between her legs, I could see the wizard's organ moving
in and out of her in long strokes. I swallowed. Then milord covered
her, and I could see only a tangle of legs and the Beast's black
furred rump, rising over them. It descended, and I heard a long,
feminine groan. I knew he'd entered Nimue's anus.
I licked my lips and cut my eyes toward Jack, feeling such
desperate hunger that I wanted to beg the footman to take me.
Instead, he left my side and crossed to the tangled trio. I saw him
kneel facing them, then he lifted Nimue's head by the hair and
aimed his phallus for her mouth. His fist tightened, and he began
to guide her back and forth.
My nipples were burning, and I could feel the steady trickle of
wetness filling my core. It was too easy to imagine what she felt,
filled by the three staffs of her captors, the smooth burning
strength of each of them thrusting in and out of her. I wanted one
of them to take me. Now.
But they were too busy revenging themselves on the witch, so at
last, in frustration, I went to milord's throne and threw myself
into it. Hooking one leg over the arm, I began to caress my own wet
flesh.
From where I sat on the throne, I could see how they held her
helpless between them. Jovas arched under her, forcing her to ride
his grinding hips, even as my master covered her, thrusting against
the taut curve of her rump. Nimue shuddered as they pounded into
her, but she couldn't protest even if she wanted to. Jack had
stuffed her mouth with his shaft. Holding her head immobile with
both hands, he hunched against her face. I wondered if she could
breathe, but judging from the flare of her nostrils, she was
evidently managing it somehow.
I shivered and stroked my own breast with one hand, slipping the
other down between my legs. It was incrediably arousing, watching
them take her. My cream was hot and thick between my lips.
For a moment it occurred to me that I had fallen far under
milord's ownership. He'd made me forget my high birth and ancient
name, until I cared for nothing but the heat he made me feel. But
in truth, it was not as if my blue blood had ever done a damn thing
for me, but get me married to a doddering old man with a greedy
son. This was pleasure. It was, in fact, more than most women ever
found.
As I watched, swirling a forefinger through my soaking heat, I
saw milord's shaft slide out of Nimue's bottom, then plunge in
again. I remembered the way it had felt when he'd taken me that way
and gasped, pinching my nipple hard in a spasm of desire.
For a moment it seemed she was trying to fight them -- white
flesh surged against strong hands -- but they quelled her rebellion
with no particular effort and went back to impaling her again. But
it seemed their bodies were slapping against hers harder now,
faster, and it seemed I could almost feel three thick shafts
ramming in and out of me. I plunged three fingers into myself as
deeply as I could, strumming my pearl with my thumb.
There was a new expression on Nimue's face. Her eyelids had
drifted closed, and a spasm that could have been pleasure or pain
crossed her contorted face.
Suddenly the Beast roared out that distinctive sound he makes
when he climaxes, and he stiffened, driving deep. At almost the
same moment, Jovas' spine arched, lifting both Nimue and even my
master clear of the ground. Nimue made a muffled sound around
Jack's organ, and the footman gasped.
------------
Suddenly the tangle of sweaty sex that was Nimue, Jack, Jovas
and milord seened to collapse. I, bare strokes from my own climax,
groaned in frustration.
Milord was the first to pick himself up from the huddle, one
hand going to the base of his spine as he stretched his back. Jack
was next up, grinning with the satisfaction of his revenge. Then at
last Jovas stood, lifting Nimue and slinging her over his shoulder,
naked and limp. He gestured, and for a moment the dungeon was
illuminated in a blaze of light. When it faded, he was dressed in
his robes. Nimue, however, was still naked...except for chains and
a slave collar such as I had worn on more than one occassion
lately. The wizard held out a hand to milord, who took it, careful
of his claws. "My thanks for your assistance, Lord Grayhurst,"
Jovas said, very formally for a man who'd just helped his host rape
a witch.
The Beast grinned at him with an astonishing number of teeth.
"Believe me, it was my pleasure. I trust you'll keep your slave
well-punished?"
Jovas grinned back, showing teeth of his own. "Count on it,
Ian." He hesitated. "I wish I could break the bitch's curse for
you, but I'm afraid she set it too well."
The Beast shrugged. "I know. You certainly gave it your best
effort those months ago. On the other hand, the potion worked.
I'll have to be satisfied with that."
The wizard's eyes slid to me, as I sat, decorously bolt upright,
in milord's chair. "Perhaps you'll be able to break your spell
another way, milord."
The Beast looked at me, then glanced away. "I don't think so."
His jaw tightened. "Punish the bitch well, Jovas."
The wizard leered. "Oh, I will. I'm feeling...inspired."
Nimue lifted her head, and I saw the flash of helpless
acceptance on her face just before they disappeared.
"I hope," said Jack, "he whips the ass off her."
"I doubt it," said the Beast, sounding a little bitter. "He was
always soft on her. That's why he didn't leave her with me."
Jack shrugged. "Too bad. Still, I'm sure he'll keep her
busy...."
"No doubt. Get some sleep, Jack. I'm sure you need it." The
Beast waved the footman toward the door, and he lost no time
finding it. The thick wooden slab slammed shut, leaving me alone
with my master...and a burning deep in my core.
------------
I stared at the Beast hungrily, my nipples tingling, feeling a
hot trickle deep within. Would he want to take me now, so soon
after the witch? I thought it likely; he'd often astonished me
with his stamina in the past. "Milord," I began softly, taking a
step forward.
He looked away. "We'll get your clothes. I will provide you
with a full purse for the road; I'll have Jack summon some of the
village men to provide you with an escort. And you needn't worry
about Randal. I'll take care of him."
I blinked, feeling I'd been dunked in ice water. "You're
sending me away?"
"I'm freeing you."
"But...But WHY?"
He looked at me, full on. There was pain in his eyes. "You
saved my life tonight, at considerable risk to your own. I can't
continue to hold you."
I stared at him. Free. I'd be free again. Free to go back to
my own castle, to my women and my tapestries. Free.
Free to be wedded again against my will to some old man. The
young ones, after all, look for very wealthy widows or 15-year-old
virgins, and I was neither.
"No."
"What?" he asked, astonished.
"If you feel any gratitude at all for me, you won't make me
leave." I looked at the high, muscular arch of his chest, the
width of his arms.
"But...I enslaved you. I took you."
"And I liked it." I remembered the feeling of his broad shaft
sliding into me, his tongue flicking over my nipples...even his
hard hand hitting my rump. "You've given me more pleasure than I
have ever known. I'd rather live as your slave than be free
without you." And he roared.
I jumped back as his back arched, then twisted like a gigged
fish. He began to glow, and it seemed his fur was burning. I
screamed in horror. I had killed him. This was the witch's
revenge, and I had somehow triggered it. As I watched, the fur
crisped, burned, dropped away in big hunks as he clawed at the air.
His horns disappeared in a curl of flame, and his claws went
incandescent and disappeared. I began to scream for Jack, knowing
he could do nothing, screamed for Jovas, knowing the wizard
couldn't hear. And then the flame was gone, and he fell to his
knees.
"Milord?"
He moaned. I rushed to him, but hesitated, reluctant to touch
him. His skin looked so...pink. But as I examined him, I realized
there were no burns marring it.
"Beast?" I whispered.
He lifted his naked face and looked at me from eyes that shone
with joy. "My name is Ian Duncan," he said.
------------
The fur had blunted the sharp, clean lines of his features,
blurring his handsomeness. I stared at him in wonder.
Then Ian Duncan stood up in a rush of hard muscle and human
flesh, and I saw him for the first time truly naked. The sight made
my mouth go dry. He seemed a bit shorter without the high mane that
had bulked around his head, but my head still came no higher than
his breastbone. He was every inch the knight, powerful with thick
muscle bred by swinging a sword and riding a warhorse.
His laugh was deep music, and he snatched me against his chest.
He felt so...hard, without that cushion of fur around him. "That's
twice I owe you, girl. Once for my life, again for breaking the
spell."
I brushed a cautious hand along his ribs, feeling the bone and
velvet skin. "Are you going to set me free?"
His eyes were just as green as I remembered, if they no longer
glowed. "Not likely, slave. In fact, you have some atoning to
do." His attempt at a growl was spoiled by his grin.
"Atoning?" I squeaked, as he picked me up and carried me toward
his throne.
"Aye. You dared put a LEASH, by God, on your master." He
dropped into his chair. "And you wanted to see that witch take a
crop to me. If ANYONE gets punished around here, girl, it's going
to be YOU."
I sighed in pleasure, then lost my contentment in a screech as
his broad, furless hand descended on my rump in a stinging slap.
Minutes later, I was bucking and cursing, heartily regretting my
decision, as he continued to spank me with wicked, lustful
enjoyment.
At last, when my bottom was blazing, he stayed his hand, rose
from his place, and went down on his back on the stone, lifting me
up over him. With barely a pause, he brought me down on his eager
phallus and sheathed it with a twist of his powerful hips. I braced
my hands on his chest and glared at him as he began to thrust with
smooth strength. But he felt so good in me. Each long dig of his
organ in my wet core reignited my lust, until soon I was meeting
his thrusts, forgetting my firey rump in the pleasure of it. In
seconds, my pique was replaced by desire, and I twisted and
shivered around his burrowing shaft as he pinched my nipples
mercilessly. I climaxed with a scream. His own cry echoed it,
sounding almost as loud as his old roar.
We collapsed together in the afterglow, damp and contented.
"You realize, don't you," he said at last, "that you're going to
marry me."
"As milord wishes," I sighed.
And we lived happily ever after.
Despite frequent visits to the dungeon.
--
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