Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel) (11 page)

And, Beatrix would choose her, too.  A few magical cantrips, setting up her enchantments, and then she could borrow some of the girl's virgin blood and use it for her own purposes.  Quite a useful reagent, that.  She wondered how much she could gather, and what exactly she would use it for. 

Probably, most definitely, to finish making Everett's life a living hell.

Alena wandered through the guest house, looking at each room with amazement.  It was so wonderful!  She loved it.  She was so very glad that Everett brought her here, since this was far better than the mansion in her mind.  If she went to the mansion, she would need to share rooms with Danya.  She'd be forced to see her sister wherever she went and be required to speak with her and be pleasant.

It wasn't that she minded doing these things, not quite.  It was more that, after living with two sisters and her father for most of her life, she wondered how it was to live alone.  To be by herself, just for a little bit.  Of course, Everett didn't count in there, since he was a part of this.  She was his and he was hers and she didn't think of him as a bother.  Actually, Danya wasn't so much of a bother, either, but...

Alena just wanted to see how this was on her own.  Maybe she would like it, and maybe she wouldn't, but she would never know until she tried.  Right?

The only unfortunate part of the guest house was the dust.  Everett either didn't clean often, didn't know how, or else he'd abandoned this home in favor of the mansion.  Whichever, it didn't really matter.  Alena knew how to clean, and so she immediately found a maid's closet and fetched a feather duster.  She briefly contemplated putting on one of the maid outfits in the closet, too, but when she picked up a part of the ensemble it was frail and fell to pieces.  The outfit would have looked so cute on her, though!  She frowned, disappointed for a moment, but soon snapped out of it.

The front room of the house was the largest, and she dusted around the edges, then on to the den area, and finally a small dining table spot.  She swept the feather duster across all of it, every nook and cranny.  Clouds of dust swirled up, making her cough, and before she finished everything downstairs, she needed to escape upstairs in order to flee from the suffocating fog.  This didn't usually happen, but she didn't usually clean places as completely abandoned as this one, either.

At the top of the stairs, she turned to the right and went into the first room she saw.

This one contained no dust or dirt.  Strange?  Yes, she thought, but there must be a reason.  It was a bedroom, so perhaps that was it?  Someone slept here—maybe Everett?  Except, if so, why was the rest of the house so lax in cleanliness?

Alena sat on the bed, bouncing up and down on the cushions.  It felt new, or at least newer, and without the wear and tear she typically associated with old furniture.  The pillows looked nice, too.  Jumping back, tossing herself fully onto the mattress, she lay her head on a pillow and spread her body atop the warm blankets.  It felt so nice and wonderful and warm that she wanted to fall asleep right then and there.  She thought she should do just that and rest a bit, then carry on, but something caught her attention from out of the corner of her eye.  The closet door was cracked open by a bit and had a strange, pink glow shimmering out of it.

Alena rose from the bed and tiptoed across the wooden floor.  The floorboards creaked, old and used, making her fearful.  Would someone hear her?  Except, what did that matter?  It was Everett's house and he let her in here, so she had a right to stay.  No one could tell her otherwise.

Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the door and she pulled it open slowly.  The pink glow grew brighter, illuminating the closet and spreading into the bedroom.  It twinkled and scattered across the walls and floor and furniture, leaving everything colored in rose hues.  Even herself, her body, took on a different shade, pink and pretty.

Inside the closet—in fact, the only thing in the closet—was a vibrant, red rose.  It lay in a glass display case floating in midair in the center of the room.  No roots, no soil; nothing but the rose flower and its stem.  Was it fake?  She looked at it, wondering how it could have survived for so long inside a glass case like that.  If the answer existed, she couldn't figure it out.  Inspecting it closely, putting her nose up against the glass, she saw it had no thorns.  And, also, now that she thought of it, how did the glass float like that? 

Alena tapped on the case lightly.  Nothing happened.  She pushed the glass, thinking to move it, but it remained staunchly in place.  When she tried to lift it from the bottom, it seemed as heavy as a boulder.  No amount of pushing, prodding, or poking was able to move this case and this rose.

On the side, slightly hidden, was a keyhole, though.  If she had the key, no doubt she could open the case and access the rose.  Except she didn't have a key, now did she?  In the bedroom, in the drawers maybe?  The bedside tables or hidden within the bureau?  She had no real reason to want the rose, but the fact that it was there made it a challenge in need of conquering.

A test, of sorts.  No matter how little it made sense, she became determined to get at her new obsession.  Unbeknownst to Alena, the rose was also growing obsessed with her.

She checked the bedside tables first.  The top drawer had nothing in it but cobwebs, and the middle was the same.  To get to the bottom drawer she needed to kneel, so she lowered herself quickly to check it.  When she pulled on the handle, the drawer refused to budge.  She pulled harder, but nothing, and finally she braced her feet against the base of the table and pulled with all her might while pushing with her legs.  When she was about to give up, feeling no leeway whatsoever, the drawer slapped open with a pop, sending her flying backwards onto the floor.

Tumbling, crashing against the wood floorboards, Alena crumpled into a pile.  She cursed and rubbed at her rear, which had hit against the wall.  Besides that she was fine, but argh!  How annoying.

In a pile on the floor, staring towards the now open bottom drawer of the bedside table, she didn't realize it at first when something tapped her on the shoulder.  When it tapped her once more, curious comprehension flitted through her mind.  And then—wait, who was tapping her on the shoulder?

Startled and scared, Alena skittered across the floor and away from whomever was behind her.  Though when she looked back, she saw no one.  Peeking around the room, checking for signs of anyone at all, she still saw nothing.

Only when she squinted, confused and glancing towards the open closet door, did she see what had touched her.

The rose!  Or, not quite the rose, per se, but an extension of it.  The rose itself remained in its case, but sneaking through the keyhole was a vine.  The vine grew from the stem, snaking out of its glass entrapment, then it widened to the size of her pinky finger and floated in the air where she'd just been sitting.  The plant tendril faced her as if it was watching her.  As she stared at it, it stared back, and then it drifted closer.

The viney finger stretched, growing, until it hovered in front of her face.  Alena watched it, amused and curious.  So this was what the rose did?  Strange, that, but she liked it.  It was interesting and she enjoyed interesting things.

The viney finger poked her in the nose, making Alena laugh.  "Stop that," she said.

The vine backed away, startled.

"Oh!  Oh no, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to upset you," she said.

Did it understand?  This was magic, she thought, and so maybe it understood magically?  What kind of magic, though?  Was it alright to stay here, speaking with the rose, or should she figure out a way to escape?  She thought—and she had no real reason to think this—that she should stay.  If it meant to harm her, it would have done so already.  And, what was the worst that could happen?  The vine was so small that she could push it away and leave the bedroom if need be.

While she thought of these things, the tip of the vine shook.  It shook and wriggled, then sprouted, blossoming into a miniature version of the rose flower in the case.  Alena laughed, giddy and delighted.

"Oh!  That's pretty.  Is that for me?" she asked.

The flower gave a curt nod, as if agreeing with her, and then slithered forward.  Alena moved close to it, elated with the fresh scented rose.  She'd never known magic before except from the stories, and here in one day she'd seen two magical things!  First, Everett, the beast, who was every bit as wonderful as she imagined, and now this lively rose.

There was something odd about the scent from the flower, though.  Alena couldn't put her finger on it, but she thought it was a bit off.  It did smell like a rose, but different, too.  She moved her nose closer, hoping to figure it out, and at that very same moment the rose moved closer to her, too.  Before she knew it, she had her nose pressed into the center of the blossom.  A spray of pollen fluttered out of the flower, then onto and into her nose.

Alena sneezed.  The force of it blew the flower back and the vine retreated to safety a few feet away.  Alena sneezed again, and then a third time.  Bracing herself against the wall, befuddled, she wiped her nose of pollen.

The vine floated in the air nearby, watching her.

The flower was so pretty, she thought.  So delicate and nice and sexy.  She wanted to kiss it and fondle it and touch it with her fingers, and...

What?  Strange thoughts.  A flower was a flower, and not much more than that.  Beautiful, yes, but...

Her body warmed up, feeling hot and heavy.  Her bare breasts felt tight and when she looked down she saw her nipples pointed straight out in front of her, stiff and aroused.  For no reason she could think of, she let out a moan.  It felt so wonderful to do, so she moaned again.  With her back against the wall, she scooted her rear forward and spread her legs.  Feet on the floor, knees in the air, Alena reached one hand between her thighs and teased along her slit.

Why, she wondered, was she so wet?  Was it the flower, the pollen?  Her fingers came away from her folds, slick and slippery.  She smeared her arousal across her taut stomach and up towards her breasts.  Without realizing it, she tweaked one of her nipples between her fingers and moaned again.

The flower on the end of the vine dropped to the floor.  Still beautiful and lovely, but no longer attached.  Alena crawled to fetch it so she could look at it.  So cute and pretty and she wanted to keep it for herself.

The vine separated at the tip as she approached.  First once, making two new vines, then each of those split, too.  They split once more, leaving eight slender vines dangling from the end of the initial one.  The plant grew and stretched until each of the eight vines was multiple feet long, hovering and twitching in the air as if they had a mind of their own.

Alena finished crawling towards the flower on the floor.  Leaning forward, picking it up with her mouth, she started to crawl back towards the safety of her corner by the wall.  The vine had other ideas for her, though.

One of the new plant extensions wrapped around her ankle and dragged her towards the other seven.  Not harshly, and actually quite gently, but it pulled her across the floor nonetheless.  Alena fell onto her back.  Forced to look up, she saw what was going on.  Except, what exactly
was
going on?  This was so strange and new to her that she didn't know what to think of it.

The flower in her mouth fell away, landing on the floor once more, but now with the vine taking up her thoughts, she forgot all about it.

Another viney tendril wrapped around her other leg by her thigh.  The first tendril squirmed up her leg, too, and when both of them were in place by the core of her body, they pulled gently at her legs.  Alena clenched her thighs shut, confused, but the vines insisted.  Gentle tugs, light pulls, until Alena relented and allowed them to spread her legs.

Another vine moved in now.  She stared at it, enrapt.  It moved slow like a butterfly floating in a light breeze.  Bobbing up and down, shifting closer to her, the third vine slipped towards her stomach and landed on her skin near the top of her pubis.

This rose, the vines, she thought they felt nice.  They were soft to the touch, like ropes of silk, with fuzz on them like peaches.  The vine on her stomach slithered towards her belly button and poked inside.  It poked again, then again, kept poking.  Ticklish, Alena laughed.

"What are you doing?" she asked it.  "You can't get in my belly button."

The vine snapped up and looked at her.  She watched it, thinking maybe it was confused.  After a moment of critical thinking, the vine continued its travels up her stomach.  It slinked and slithered, stretching and growing to allow it more exploration.  Sliding further still, it slipped between her cleavage and onwards towards her neck.  Not quite that far, though.  When it reached the tops of her breasts, it curved around one of them, then more, until it wrapped around the entirety of her feminine mound.

Alena let out a lusty cry.  Oh!  She wanted this plant so badly.  Was that wrong?  She thought yes, maybe, except it didn't seem it at all.  The plant, the rose, it seemed so erotic to her all of a sudden.  Some illicit attraction, something she'd always known she desired, but never really understood it.  But now?  Oh, yes, she knew it.  This plant could please her.

The vine wrapping around her breast squeezed, tightening her sensitive flesh.  It stretched further again until the tip of the tendril poked up.  It grabbed more, harder now, and the end of the vine slinked along the rest of the exposed skin of her chest.  Alena squirmed against the sensation, but the vines holding her thighs kept her mostly in place.

Another vine wiggled forward, slow and steady.  While the vine on her breast squeezed, it suddenly discovered her nipple as well, and the tip of the tendril grazed across her hardened nub.  Shocked at the sudden sensation of pleasure shivering through her, Alena arched her back.  The new vine used this distraction to slide beneath her and up past her shoulders, then on towards her nape.  Alena moaned aloud, excited, and before she knew it the newest vine had wrapped itself around her neck.