Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel) (15 page)

She felt an orgasm building within her through the squeezing, but it couldn't shove itself to the fore.  Pursing her lips, Danya tried to excite herself further with thoughts and ideas.  She remembered Everett shoving her breasts into the table and taking her from behind, rutting with her in the dining hall like she was a bitch in heat when she first entered his mansion.  The wood of the table had been smooth like her breasts.

The dress dummy rolled her hard clit between its cloth fingers, joining in and helping coax her orgasm into existence.  It didn't help, though.  She felt it, clenching contractions wanting to spasm throughout her body, but the wood and magic refused to let them through.  Her body clenched harder of its own accord, smashing pleasure against her resistant flesh over and over, but still nothing.

The dress dummy picked up speed.  While Danya desperately tried to achieve climax, the dummy slammed its cock into her over and over again.  Each time it jostled her atop the pile of leather.  Her immovable arms jumped and clattered against her chest, inadvertently rubbing against her nipples and making her pleasure all the more excruciating.  The dummy's fingers slapped against her clit, waving back and forth like the merchant's shop sign outside her father's store on a windy day.

One orgasm or five, maybe more, they built up inside of her and demanded she let them loose to wreak havoc upon her body, to transform her into a twitching mess of sex and flesh, but she couldn't.  Her mind desired it, desired it so badly, but her body refused to accept this.

She didn't know how long this went on.  Hours, perhaps, or maybe just minutes.  Each agonizingly pleasurable thrust from the dress dummy sent her into inane utterances and lusty moans.  She closed her eyes and focused, concentrating deeply and attempting to overcome this block on her climax, but none of that worked.

Danya heard the clicking sound of shoes walking across the floor towards her.  She opened her eyes and tried to understand what was going on, but it was so very very difficult.  Taya held the most beautiful dress Danya had ever seen, showing it off to its new owner.

"What do you think?" Taya asked.

Danya stared at it, mesmerized.  In her pleasure heightened state, the dress looked extravagant and beautiful.  It was as if the ecstasy in her body brought the dress to a higher state of beauty just by existing in close proximity to the sex-crazed person before it.

The cloth was pale blue.  The dress dummy's cock shoved all the way inside of her.  Danya tried to reach a hand out for the dress and one of her fingers wiggled while remaining on her breasts.

The dress had one shoulder strap, keeping the other shoulder bare.  With glittering gems sewn into the decolletage.  Danya squeezed hard against the cock inside of her, or she meant to.  Everything clenched all the time now, but she felt a faint tremor, her body listening to her command and clutching against the wooden shaft ever so lightly.

An enhanced bust, corset sewn tight so as to show off Danya's chest.  Tight around the waist, too, then flaring out wider by the hips and leaving a silken trail flowing down to the floor.

Her body cracked.  That was the only way she could think to describe it.  She heard a strange sound like shattering ice on a winter lake, and then more, further, until her body exploded into shards of pleasure.

Regaining her previous form, fully human and able to control herself at will, she descended into the pits of passion.  Her orgasm—or five, or more—split through her body, no longer walled off and separated from her like before.  The dress dummy pounded into her over and over, needy, while Danya trembled in climax after climax upon its wooden rod.

She raked her nails across her chest and squeezed her breasts roughly, reveling in the
life
in them.  No longer wooden, now hers again, and she wanted to feel every part of them.  Confused, curious, one hand jerked towards her clit and rubbed furiously.  Too hard, possibly, except, no, not hard enough.  Restrained and unable to touch herself before made everything so sensitive and wonderful now.  She clenched and climaxed upon the dummy's cock and forced more and more pleasure through her bewildered body.

She only stopped when she grew too tired to continue.  Taya stood there, smiling, clearly enjoying the show.  The wooden dummy had lost its liveliness some time ago, though Danya didn't know when.  It stood before her, slumped, with its cock half sheathed inside of her, coated in her creamy juices.

Danya felt wooden again now, but for a different reason.  She could move, but she was too tired to move.  She lay against the leather, silent.

"I can see why Everett likes you," Taya said.  "He is somewhat of a beast, it's true, but he's not a bad man by any means.  I wonder if Beatrix will find it in herself to forgive him.  I wonder if he's changed.  Or if she has."

Danya was too tired to theorize.  She lay there, staring at the ceiling, following the cracks and lines with her eyes.

"You can lay there for a bit," Taya said, draping the dress across Danya's chest.  "I have a lot of other work to do, though.  Rest up, then I'll help you dress and you're on your own."

Beatrix waded through the clutter covering the floor of her house.  She had the miniature rose now, with the virgin's blood extracted from that girl in Everett's guest home.  What a show that was, too.  She'd quite enjoyed watching the girl writhe in the air while held up and spun around by the vines sprouting from her century rose's stem.  Trapped, helpless, and utterly at the whim of the plant.  Though the girl did enjoy it, so there was that.

Anyways, Beatrix had business to attend to.  What should she do with her new reagent?  Blood had many uses, and virgin's blood even more.  She thought she should find a spell that specifically required deflowering a virgin, though perhaps she should settle for a more powerful version of a common blood spell?

Possession, maybe?  She could take control of the girl's body and use it to do her bidding.  Perhaps simplicity was the easiest thing here.  Grab a knife, seduce Everett into bed, then stab him in the heart.  The idea held a certain amount of allure to the witch, but it seemed too common and trite.

Shrinking Everett to nothing?  Perhaps if she transformed him so his body was the size of her pinky finger she could keep him trapped in a bird cage forever more.  Or swallow him whole and deal with him like that?  But, ugh, while she knew some witches wouldn't hesitate to do this to their enemies, Beatrix felt squeamish even thinking it.

Truth be told, she didn't even want Everett dead.  She wanted him to suffer forever in torment and rue the day he'd shunned her, but she didn't want him to die.  Or, she wanted all this until he apologized.  Was that too much to ask?  She wouldn't ask, because he should know and should do it unbidden, but the principle of it remained.

A curse?  Another curse?  Control.  Pain.  Minor magic, so she doubted she would do it, but perhaps it might amuse her to block him from ever maintaining an erection again.

Or perhaps a summons.  Yes, summoning a creature from the dark beyond sounded like just what she wanted.  Nothing too terrible, but a ghast to follow Everett around and torment him.  This, she thought, seemed like her best choice, because if for some reason he managed to undo her beast-curse, he'd still need to deal with the supernatural being haunting his mansion.  A spectral creature to instill fear in those inhabiting the place.  And perhaps they'd flee, running off to somewhere else, leaving Everett alone and afraid.

Beatrix thumbed through the books on her bookshelf and snapped up one dedicated to summoning magic.  She scanned through it, hoping to find something delightfully fearful.

And... yes!  A vampir.  Children of the Dead, many called them.  They weren't any such thing, though.  Malicious creatures that roamed the night in shadowed forms and caused mischief by levitating objects around and clattering them through a house.  They had screams like exploding firecrackers and loved rich opulence.  Of course they did require blood to sustain themselves, but mostly they preferred easy prey like squirrels and rabbits.  Some ancient vampir preyed on humans, but she wouldn't summon one of those.

Everything was in order, and with that decided, Beatrix set to work.  She snatched up a piece of chalk and drew a summoning circle on her cluttered floor, then plucked the various required reagents off her shelves.  And, for the final step, she skittered towards her looking glass and fetched the sanguinary rose filled with the girl's virgin blood.

Beatrix scattered the ingredients into a bowl and then tossed the rose in, too.  Casting a quick cantrip, she formed a circle of flames in the air that descended upon the bowl.  The reagents caught fire, bursting into a rush of glaring orange flames, and that was that; a vampir should rise from the summoning circle to do her bidding.

Except it didn't end up working that way.

A giant, blindfolded man shimmered into existence in the center of the circle.  The folded black wings on his back unfurled and slapped against the shelves on Beatrix's walls, sending the contents crashing to the ground.  The man wore no shirt or shoes or gloves of any kind.  The only thing covering his ruddy body was a tattered piece of cloth wrapped around his waist like a skirt or a kilt.

He stood and surveyed his surroundings.  This wasn't what Beatrix wanted, but as long as he wasn't some powerful demon or other celestial being, the summoning circle should keep him trapped until she commanded something of him.

"I don't require your assistance," Beatrix said, keeping her voice firm.  "Begone."

"No mortal commands Pinem'e," he said, his voice booming through her house and nearly shattering her windows.  "I see your thoughts, though, witch.  They interest me.  In repayment for bringing me into your world I shall destroy the man you hate, but that is all.  You may be next.  I have yet to decide what I shall do here."

Pinem'e crouched low, tensing his legs, then he bounded off the floor and thrashed his wings, flying straight through her roof.

Beatrix stared at the empty summoning circle, blinking.  Pinem'e?  No, it couldn't be.  That wasn't the spell she'd cast, not at all.  Why would she ever want to summon one of the fallen angels? 
How
, even?

Belatedly, she realized her folly.  She hadn't just used virgin's blood in her spell; she'd used a part of the century rose, too.  She should have extracted the blood first, but in her rush for vengeance, it seemed unnecessary.  And most times it would have been, it should have been.

What had she done?  Well, Everett was most assuredly dead now, no matter what else she did.  Not her preferred choice of action, but she couldn't very well stop it.  The only thing left to do was fetch the rose from the guest house bedroom and then leave.  No matter what Pinem'e wanted, he shouldn't be able to remain outside his celestial plane for long with the paltry amount of reagents she'd used for the spell.  A day or so, but no more.

Beatrix sauntered over to her looking glass, planning on simply pulling the rose through it.  She'd set this up ages ago so that anything within the rose's glass box could be grabbed through the mirror, or she might place something in the box from her side of the mirror, too.  Among other things, it acted as a good precaution for thievery.

She tapped the glass and watched the mist inside ripple away like a drop of water splashing into a puddle.  It cleared, and there sat the box, but...

Where was the rose?

Stuck inside the keyhole of the box lay the key.  Hadn't she destroyed that?  Except, no, apparently not, and the twisted key had opened the box.  Who stole her rose, though?

That girl!  Argh!  Beatrix screamed out her frustration.

She couldn't lose that rose.  Most of the time she wouldn't worry, except a fallen angel was one of the few things that could completely obliterate her century rose.  And why would he
not
do that?  Or he might use it to sustain himself in this world for a longer time, too.  The small portion of the rose she'd given him in the summoning might keep him alive for a day, but if he consumed the entire thing who knew how much time he had?  Years, decades, more?

Beatrix sprinted out her front door and whistled for her horse.  After a few seconds, the beast cantered towards her, whinnying and stamping the ground by her feet.

"Yes, well, we need to go," she said.

The horse gave her a curt bow of his head.

Alena awoke to the blaring light of imminent sunset.  Hues of orange and gold streamed through the shaded window and assailed her vision, forcing her to acknowledge them.  She blinked away her sleep and opened her eyes, looking around.

She felt physically exhausted and sore all throughout her body, but a good kind of sore.  It was almost as if she'd spent the day running errands and helping her father in the shop, moving heavy items and doing hard work.  Exercise fatigue was good fatigue, and she didn't mind it too much.

Also, she felt mentally invigorated.  Where was she?  What was this?  She wanted to know and experience it and learn everything she could.  She'd always loved schooling, but she hated how they told her to learn specific things.  She was sure she'd get to those things eventually on her own, but she wanted to discover more about what intrigued her first.

And her current situation definitely intrigued her.

Oh, yes.  She remembered it all in vivid detail.  The plant, the sex, the sweet taste of its nectar gushing into her mouth and its seed seeping between her feminine folds.  Was that a dream, though?  Odd, and not something she'd usually do, but she slipped a hand beneath the bed covers and ran a finger across her glistening slit intending on tasting her arousal.  Faintly sticky, like watered honey, she relished in the joy of teasing her body before moving onwards with her plan.  Her fingers toyed with her clit and she stuck one, then another, inside of her.  Hard, fast, again, gathering her lustrous arousal, then using it to coat her labia and spread the smoothness across her clit.  She gasped, oversensitive and sore.