Beau and the Lady Beast

by Morgan Ashbury

  Curious, Isadora opened the armoire. The storage space held but two pieces of clothing: a pair of white slacks and a matching white tee shirt, both of summer-weight cotton. If they fit, they would be snug, and very nearly transparent. Then she realized there truly were only two items in the closet. A quick search of the room revealed what she’d suspected. No underwear of any description could be found.

  She never slept naked. Just one of those things she’d never done. But Beau had asked her…no. Isadora closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. He hadn’t asked her anything. He’d ordered her to sleep naked. Before that, he’d called her his pet, and ordered her to bare herself to his sight.

  Thoughtful, she got to her feet and approached the wooden closet. She slowly removed the robe and hung it up, then slid into the bed. Turning off the light, she lay in the dark and wondered why being commanded by Beau had felt so right, and why obeying him had become the only thing she really wanted to do.

  * * * *

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I think so, too.” He’d brought her outside for a walk on his land, and now they overlooked his favorite place, on the banks of a large pond. “This piece of property belonged to the farm my great-great-grandfather established when he came from Ireland in the eighteen hundreds.”

  “No longer being farmed?”

  “Well, I have a few acres devoted to corn and hay. But no, for the most part, the Bannisters moved from rural environs to the city in my father’s childhood. But I’ve always loved it here.”

  “It’s so quiet. I’ve been a city dweller all my life. I grew up in an apartment, never even lived in a house until just after I started my business.”

  She fell silent, and Beau knew her thoughts had turned back to less pleasant memories. Stepping behind her, he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his chest. He couldn’t help but speak from his heart. His respect for her had always been huge, and his love for her was growing. He wondered when she would recognize the feelings he had for her.

  “Now you have a beautiful home in the middle of the most exclusive area in the city. You’ve furnished it with the best of everything from all over the world, and you did it all through your own brains and vision and guts. Your company is one of the most solid, most respected cosmetics companies in North America. This, too, is the fruit of your hard work, planning, and determination. That’s a hell of a lot to be proud of, love. The rest that came before? Maybe you had to go through that to get where you are. To be who you are now. I happen to have very fond feelings for who you are now.”

  Beau closed his eyes in pleasure when she folded her arms over his.

  “Thank you. That’s…that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “You’re welcome.” He resisted the urge to cup her breasts, to slip his hands under her shirt and pinch her pretty pink nipples into erection. It was absolute hell, being this close and not having, but he wanted her for more than a quick tumble. He could have her body now. He knew he could turn her in his arms, pull the clothes from her, lay her down, and plunge. But all he would have would be her body, and he’d decided, even before he’d brought her to his home, he wanted much more than sex. The time he’d spent with her so far only reinforced his determination.

  Reluctantly, he released her and stepped away. “Come, pet. We’ve not finished our walk.” He tugged on the leash and smiled when she didn’t bitch or tug back. She blinked once, as if just now remembering the collar and leash. She tilted her head and looked at him, her expression serious.

  “As you wish.”

  “Now you’re getting it,” he couldn’t resist saying.

  Chapter 5

  “You want to play another game?” They were back in the library, but the chessboard wasn’t set up.

  “I do. Please, pick a seat.”

  Looking at the Scrabble board, Isadora shook her head. She could remember playing it as a child. The thought came out of nowhere that some things endured.

  She’d brought her after-lunch tea with her and sipped it while Beau set the game up. He handed her a large pile of tiles.

  “I thought I was supposed to pick them blindly, a few at a time,” she commented idly, turning the letters over and arranging them.

  “My board, my rules, and I get to go first.”

  “You like being in control.”

  “I do, but I know when to let go, pet. Never fear. Ah, here’s an excellent first word.”

  Isadora knew her eyes widened when he laid four letters on the board. F-U-C-K, never a word she’d used for points before.

  “I thought profanity against the rules.”

  “Like I said, my board, my rules.”

  Isadora found herself returning his smile, though she was sure hers wasn’t as heart-melting as his. Examining her letters, she picked a single one, an “ S,” and put it at the end of his word.

  “Ooh, you went for simplicity, I see. Let me just tell you what I think of that.”

  She watched avidly while he picked up four tiles and used her already placed “ S” for another letter. She laughed. He’d spelled the word ‘pussy’.

  “I think you have a one-track mind. At least, when it comes to words. Aren’t you going to keep score?”

  “Who says I’m not?”

  Shaking her head, she picked up two letters and placed them after the “P”, adding the innocuous word ‘pan’ to the mix.

  Quick with his next contribution, he placed an “S” at the beginning and a “K” at the end of her word.

  “Spank. Is that a threat?”

  “I don’t make threats, only promises.”

  “Beau Brannigan, you’re a very confusing man,” she said, studying the board and her letters.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m an open book.”

  She shot a look of disbelief. Deciding two could play the same game, she used his “K” for the last letter of her word.

  “Cock,” he said, smiling. “That’s more like it.”

  Too engrossed with enjoying his playful expression, she didn’t immediately notice the word he formed next. He had gone back to the original two words and added four more letters.

  “Fuckslave. Is that even a word?” she asked, and could have cursed when the slight tremor entered her voice.

  “You’ll be in a better position to answer that question, personally, after dinner. Your turn.”

  His remark had been without that bantering tone she’d come to enjoy. The expression in his eyes told her he was quite serious.

  Over the last twenty-four hours, he’d pulled more out of her than anyone before. Enough that she spoke without thinking. “You keep me off-balance. I came here prepared for what I believed would to happen. I thought we’d have a few laughs, maybe…and a lot of sex.”

  “And I invited you here to share intimacy. Tell me, Isadora, have you ever been so intimate with another man?”

  Isadora couldn’t lie. “No.” She couldn’t pretend not to understand what he’d been doing to her, systematically, since she arrived. Looking down at her letters, she scooped up five and lined them down under the “A” in his last word.

  “I know you’re afraid. You don’t have to spell it out for me.”

  She laughed, loud and sudden in the silence of the library. She felt an extra bond form between them when he smiled and winked at her. She watched him place one more word on the board, beginning with an “S” that fit onto a word already there.

  “I win.”

  She read the new words: fuckslaves submit. Becoming aware anew of the collar around her neck and the leash attached to it, she understood in that moment he spoke nothing but the truth.

  * * * *

  She hadn’t heard the lock turn or the door open. That was her first thought when she awoke and saw the box.

  Plain white and decorated with a red ribbon, it waited at the foot of the bed and hadn’t been there when she’d drifted off for an afternoon nap.

  After their
word game, Beau announced he would return her to her room so she could have that nap.

  “I never nap in the middle of the day.”

  “You will today, because I order it. I want you fresh for tonight.”

  That had certainly been imperious of him, and she let him know it by the frosty look she sent him. She’d felt quite proud of that tiny rebellion, all things considered.

  And hadn’t she just ruined it all by being sound asleep when he’d made his delivery?

  Tossing the blankets aside, she got to her feet and stretched. The second time she’d crawled into bed naked, she’d done so this time, automatically. She felt a bit more at ease with the concept, but not with standing awake, totally nude. She opened the armoire, unsurprised to find the outfit she’d worn that morning gone, but very grateful the silk robe still hung in place.

  Feeling more secure with the robe on and belted around her, she approached the box. There was, of course, a brief hand-written note attached: Your attire for the evening. I’ll collect you at seven.

  It took her a few moments after opening the box to understand what she was looking at.

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding!” She pulled each item out one at a time, examined it carefully, set it aside. She removed six items in total from the box. When she had them on the bed, she arranged them, as they would be worn, and she picked up the item that had been at the very bottom of the container.

  If she put those on, she’d be…what? Giving in to Beau Bannister’s prurient fantasies? Well, duh, she’d done that the moment she’d accepted his proposition. No, if she put on this last item, she’d be telling him he really was in control. That she submitted to him and his self-proclaimed right to dominate her.

  And what had giving up that precious commodity netted her so far? Isadora licked suddenly dry lips. The answer came to her with no effort at all. She’d never felt more pampered, more cherished, or more special in her entire life. She’d certainly never been so intimate with a man—hell, with anyone—as she had been with Beau. Before this weekend, she’d believed herself infatuated with the man, and curious if that infatuation could become something more. Now she knew she was falling in love with him, and here she stood, on the very precipice of crossing into totally unknown territory.

  Could she continue being submissive? So far, it had been simple and, she acknowledged, superficial. Tonight, when he opened her door, if she wore everything he’d provided for her, it would go far beyond the superficial.

  Tonight, if she wore this outfit, the real submission would begin. Her hand went to her stomach. It felt like she’d swallowed an entire hive of bees. She had no idea what plans Beau had in store for her. She felt a little bit afraid and a whole lot nervous.

  The only question was, did she trust him—and herself—enough to do obey him?

  * * * *

  He unlocked the door and knocked.

  She’d been his “guest” for just thirty hours. It seemed longer, somehow. Forever—that’s how long he’d been waiting for her. Waiting for her to come into his life and into his bed.

  Tonight, he was taking them just one step deeper into intimacy, and closer to his ultimate goal. He hoped. It all depended on what he saw when she opened the door.

  The door swung inward, and his breath caught.

  “My God, woman, you’re hot.”

  “Thank you.”

  Touched that her cheeks turned pink, Beau couldn’t resist reaching out to stroke them lightly. Neither could he resist continuing the caress down her body. The bra he’d chosen for her, French cut and siren red, displayed the top of her breasts and nipples. With his fingers brushing her flesh, nipples already pebbled poked out even more. His gaze swept down, noting with approval she wore the thong panty over the garter belt. She’d understood he intended to remove the one, but not the other. At least, not right away. The stockings and shoes showcased her long, sexy legs.

  He’d left looking at the best for last.

  The felt-lined black restraints he’d included with the ensemble encased her wrists. Ordinary handcuffs made of metal invariably connected the wrists together. He’d chosen these ones not only to match the collar, but for their versatility. He could restrain her with her wrists together, or her arms spread wide. Also, like the collar, these could only be opened with a key. He’d included no key in the box.

  “I didn’t know how you wanted me to wear them. I snapped them together, figuring if you didn’t want them that way, you’d change them.”

  “You’ve pleased me, pet. Are they comfortable?”

  “Yes.”

  Beau cupped her face, his thumbs stroking either side of her mouth. “Take that last step, Isadora. You’ve come so far already, and you’re safe. You know that. Take that one last step for me, pet, and answer me again.”

  He felt the slight tremble and smiled when she lowered her eyes.

  “Yes, they’re comfortable. Master.”

  “Good girl.” He kissed her, his tongue thirsty to drink from her, his lips firm and demanding. The taste of her, honey and ambrosia, shot straight to his groin. He felt her surrender in the tilting of her neck, in the widening of her lips. He pulled her tight against him so she could feel the strength of his erection. He used one hand, pressing on her ass, and was rewarded with the feel of her pussy grinding against his cock. He loved her, and at this moment he knew his goal within reach. Wanting her more than he’d ever wanted a woman, stepping back was hell.

  He broke the kiss, smiling in response to the dazed and passionate haze in her eyes. He stepped back and handed her the clasp-end of the leash. She didn’t hesitate, but attached it to her collar in one move.

  “My grandfather wanted this castle to be identical to an actual medieval castle. He included a few features the rest of the family thought over the top. I’ve been a negligent host in not giving you the complete tour. So tonight, I make amends. First, we’ll have a small snack in the dining room. Then, I believe we’ll take our party to the dungeon.”

  Chapter 6

  The dungeon was real.

  One wall held what appeared to be medieval weapons. Daggers and swords, a mace, a large club, and a shield decorated the old stone. At the base of the weapon display stood a table, with a wheel at one end.

  Isadora tilted her head and realized, with some shock, the table was a rack. A small cage, mid-room, hung suspended above the floor by a heavy chain.

  She couldn’t suppress the shaking that had begun when she stepped into this room.

  “Now you understand why I only fed you a light snack. Are you afraid, my pet?”

  And he had fed her, Isadora acknowledged. She’d sat on a low stool beside him in the dining room. He’d unhooked her handcuffs, fastening them behind her back. He fed her, one small mouthful at a time, from his own plate. He allowed her a few small sips from his wine glass. He even dabbed her lips delicately with a napkin, and then he brought her here.

  Was she afraid? Isadora examined the emotions swirling within her.

  “No, Master. I’m…nervous. And excited.”

  “None of these tools have been used. They’re all replicas, for decoration only. But over here,” he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face the other direction, “is where we’re going to play.”

  Chains hung from the ceiling and wall. A black leather medical exam-type table, complete with stirrups, waited innocuously in the corner. A shelf held various items, some of which she couldn’t identify. Those she recognized included a riding crop, a flail, a paddle, and a strap.

  “None of these have been used before, either, but we won’t be able to say that after tonight, will we, pet?”

  “N...no, Master.”

  Her belly jittered when he disconnected her handcuffs from each other and massaged her arms.

  “Sore?”

  She didn’t think she could speak, so she just shook her head. Her arms weren’t sore, even though they’d been manacled behind her back for nearly a half hour.

&
nbsp; “Hold your hands out in front of you so I can attach these chains.”

  A part of her wondered why the hell she obeyed his every command, calling him “master”—that tiny part of her that was a stubborn, foot-stomping shrew. And yet the rest of her, fascinated, wondered what would come next?

  When he’d attached both chains, one to each cuff, he stepped behind her. She heard the rattle of metal, and then her arms, lifted by the chains, rose above her head, and away from each other.

  “There.”

  Stretched to the maximum, her feet still touched the floor. Barely. She tested her bounds and found she couldn’t lower her arms one bit.

  “Rest your eyes now, pet.”

  The blindfold was soft, and he had it in place before she could take a breath. She felt him fastening it, the way one would fasten a watchband or a belt. It fit snugly, and she could see nothing. Blind and immobilized, she waited, totally at Beau’s mercy.

  She felt his body press against her back and she gasped for his hands came around her, touching her everywhere. It wasn’t until she felt him cup her naked breasts she realized he’d unfastened the bra.

  “I’ve wanted my hands on you for so long. I would see you across the room at cocktail parties and imagine you here, naked, mine to take. I would be trading snappy repartees with you at those functions and dream of the day I would have you hot and needy, writhing under me. Wanting only me.”

  Heat washed through her, and she could only moan in response. Her head fell back, and she heard his chuckle, low and deep, felt it roll through her belly. She was completely seduced, and if only he knew it, completely his already. Despite her nervousness, despite the situation, she knew she could trust Beau Brannigan, as she had trusted no other man. Completely and absolutely.

  “You like having your breasts played with? They’re luscious. Plump and ripe…and mine. How do they taste?”

  He stole her breath when he moved around and suckled her. His hands stroked her ass and up and down her back. He used teeth and tongue and lips on one breast, then the other. His movements varied in speed, slow at first, then, unexpected, he’d feed ravenously. Unable to see, suspended, she felt disoriented, and emotionally off-balance. Sometimes breath-soft, other times sharp, almost painful, he doled out delicious torture.