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

by du Lys, Cerys

  That seemed to please him at the time. When Alena did nearly the exact same thing now, the living orb slipped down her throat as easily as that. She swallowed hard, consuming it. As it trickled into her stomach, it melted away into creamy nothingness. It reminded her of—and this was perhaps crass, and unsuited to the odd anxiety and fear she now felt, but—it reminded her of when she'd given men pleasure with her mouth and then swallowed their seed afterwards.

  There was a certain amount of satisfaction to be gained from the look on a man's face whenever she did that. Currently she had no man to garner such favor with, though. She saw Everett and Dante watching her with morbid fascination and horror, while the two witches stood to the side, pleased with their work. And where was Danya? Behind her, yes, holding her, and...

  The orb containing the demon's essence settled into the pit of her stomach, but that wasn't it. It melted and spread further, tightening her body and her core. She felt worried and wonderful, as if she was about to orgasm. Odd, that, but it suited her at the moment. It reminded her of times when she'd let a man lead her towards a corner nook in a small shop and hike up her skirt while toying with her folds. He slid his fingers along her slick lower lips before pushing hard into her. When she would go to gasp, he clapped a hand over her mouth and quieted her.

  All of this while in a shop that anyone might walk into at any moment. They never had, and her temporary lover brought her to orgasm in a matter of minutes, but she thought most of that was from the forbidden nature of what they were doing. If someone caught them, if someone saw... then what?

  Everyone saw her now, but she felt nearly the same as then. Her body tightened, tense and uneasy. The demon's essence pushed through her, towards her impassioned core, lighting her body aflame with dark arousal. Her pussy thrummed, practically vibrating in her mind. The hood of her clit clamped down hard on the hidden pearl beneath it, pressuring her to acknowledge the pleasure it wanted to give her. Her breasts felt so sore and sensitive, but alive and wonderful, too.

  She wanted more. More than this, and more than she could ever imagine.

  The delicious essence coursing through her wanted to give more to her, too.

  Her body spasmed in some unidentifiable ecstasy. She felt alive, as if throughout the previous eighteen years of her life she'd never been anything more than a non-existent thought. Sensuous light surrounded her, dim and dark but luminous to her eyes. She saw everything as black, except different shades and colors of black, as if this were a thing that existed regularly and everyone might perceive as normal.

  Alena knew it wasn't normal, but she didn't care.

  Tight, orgiastic climax crashed through her very being. Her inner walls tightened and clamped, pulling at some invisible object pressed inside of her. She screamed aloud, but more out of lust than from pain. Oh, yes, there was a little pain, but of a good kind. Stretching her, reshaping her, re-imagining her into some new and exciting creation.

  She breathed heavily, breasts bouncing on her chest. Her eyes glanced down somehow, somewhere, and she saw how pert and perky her chest was now. She'd never been unattractive, or at least she never thought she was, but now her breasts looked marvelous. Two hardened little peaks for nipples pointed outwards upon her beautiful bust, just begging to be licked and sucked.

  She would do that herself if she could, but she couldn't. Instead, her hands sought out her nipples, and she pulled and teased at them. Oh! It felt so nice. So different. Her body liked that. It was her body, yes, and yet she felt like it was someone else's, too. Strange, perhaps, but it didn't matter right now.

  Shimmering dark scales, like a pair of tight lady's gloves, covered her wrists and the back of her hands. Not on her fingers, nor much further past her forearm than her wrists, but the scales shimmered and glowed like brilliant gems. Alena stared at them, rapt, while tweaking her nipples between her fingers.

  And more. Oh gods, there was so much more. Sensation shimmied down her stomach, pulling inwards here, then out there. Her hips widened, broader, begging for a man's hands to grab onto them and fuck wildly into her. She wanted this, yes, and yet the men in front of her weren't willing to do it. Taking matters into her own hands, she plunged two fingers deep into her slit. Her pleasure roared, increasing tenfold, but she only managed two deep thrusts of her own before her body trembled in spastic pleasure.

  Writhing on the floor, letting the demon's essence metamorphosize her, Alena basked in her newfound glory. This was magical and interesting, and wasn't that exactly what she'd wanted when she arrived here?

  Mmm~yes.

  ...

  Danya needed to leave. It was one thing to have seen Everett and Alena basking in the afterglow of their sexual escapades, but it was quite another to be holding onto her younger sister as she delighted in some strange form of witch's magic. Was it dangerous, though? Was this alright?

  She didn't know. She didn't understand. The fallen angel was gone, vanished, swallowed by Alena, and everything seemed fine now. Fine, yes, except for the desirous twitching of her sister's face, and the way she spasmed in glee, seeming to do so at the merest thought of excitement.

  At first Danya thought Alena was hurt somehow, but when she started pulling at her nipples after scaly, feminine gloves sprouted from the skin on her hands, Danya decided maybe she was fine. Mostly... that was her sister, and...

  Strange. It was strange, and she needed to separate herself from this. Perhaps she'd make soup, prepare a spot on a quiet couch somewhere, and...

  Was that possible? What had the witches done to her? She didn't want Alena gone. She wanted her here again, her sister to take care of, and she wanted everything to be happy. If she needed to go back to her father's house and her otherwise miserable life in the horrible town she grew up in, she'd do it. If she needed to... if...

  "I'll speak with her," the archwitch said, noticing Danya slinking away from her sister's transformation upon the ballroom floor. Matilda walked up to Danya and smiled. "Shall we go?"

  "Is she alright?" Danya asked, sparing a glance towards Alena. "Will she be fine?"

  "Yes," the archwitch said. "It's just the transformation. The effects are different depending on the person and the process, but not too much. Within a few minutes, she'll settle down, and then everything should work out."

  "Should?" Danya asked.

  Matilda shrugged. "Well, there's a chance that she'll become some sex-crazed succubus fiend, but that's not too terrible, is it?"

  "What?" Danya gasped, then repeated the word, shouting. "What! What have you done to her? What's going..." The world vanished, replaced by something entirely different. "...on."

  She and Matilda stood in a bedroom somewhere entirely separated from the overlarge ballroom. It looked like this new room was in a tower, high up and aloft, peering out over the forest and surrounding countryside. Danya recognized some of the area as the land around Everett's mansion, but she didn't recognize this room, nor did she remember any towers here or anywhere near here.

  "Beatrix's room," Matilda explained. "From long ago. I used to tell her it was silly to take up tasks like this in places like these, but she always wanted to be a good witch. Who wants to be a good witch, I ask you? Not that I want to be an evil witch, mind, but I'd rather be an interesting witch. Good people hardly ever do interesting things, though on occasion they might."

  "What are you going to do to me?" Danya asked. "Are you going to kill me?"

  Matilda blinked. "The idea hadn't occurred to me. Do you want me to kill you?"

  Now Danya blinked.

  "I might have been wrong," the witch admitted. "Good people may do interesting things. This has certainly been interesting, hasn't it? I don't know exactly what went on, and previously I might have enjoyed siding with one of the named fallen angels, but there's something to be said for allying with an underdog, don't you think?"

  "A what?" Danya asked. No one here was a dog of any sort. Unless... did she mean her and Alena? The sisters? Dogs, like bitc
hes in heat, ready for mating with the mansion's brothers, treated to scraps and...

  "Get those thoughts out of your head," Matilda said, frowning. "The person who is expected to lose. That's what that is; an underdog. It's just a term. Looking into the future is difficult at times, but I liked to collect new phrases when I could. It's not so hard, that. People in the future have such strange ways of saying things. It's fun to learn them and use them, then no one knows what you're talking about."

  "Oh," Danya said. She didn't understand any of that, nor why it should be fun to speak when no one understood you, but she also wasn't a witch, so maybe that was a part of it.

  "Anyways, as I intended to do, I'll explain your sister's predicament. Pardon Beatrix and I for not being able to perform the spell as properly as usual, but we didn't have much time and I haven't worked alongside her in centuries. I hope you'll forgive us that."

  "Alena will be alright, though?"

  "After the transformation, yes. She'll be a succubus, of course, but that's not the worst thing ever. A bit of magic here and there, probably wings. Those scales you saw. I find them pretty, myself. Centuries ago, however long I've been gone, some women used to enjoy wearing similar attire to events. Somewhat scandalous, you know? Copying the style of a sexual demon and attending a dance like that? Oh, I wonder what they did afterwards, with the men they coaxed into their bedrooms? Hm..."

  "If my sister is going to be a demon, I hardly think she's going to be alright."

  "Half of a demon," Matilda corrected. "And as long as she isn't a crazy person, she'll be fine. Anyone with any decent amount of magic can control themselves easily after learning how. Of course, when she dies or is killed, Pinem'e might become freed, but as long as that doesn't happen anytime too soon, Beatrix and I can teach her how to subdue his soul."

  This sounded terrible. Why did this woman think it wasn't terrible. Danya frowned and fretted, fumbling with her hands.

  "If we'd used his blood," Matilda said, "it would have been worse. Blood is a painful reagent most times, typically reserved for malicious spells. It depends on where the blood is from, of course, but most blood is used for evil intentions. If we'd attained some blood and sealed the named fallen angel within Everett as an example, he'd be wracked with pain for many minutes, barely able to contain it. Horrid screams and clenched teeth, awfulness, all of that. Not good."

  "Since we used the demon's sexual essence," the witch continued, "it's different. Angels, especially ones that have fallen towards demonic existence, are somewhat lascivious. They feed off of strong emotions, like anger and hatred and fear. But also, they can cause these, and lust, too. Anything strong and powerful, and..."

  "If blood causes pain, because bleeding involves injury and hurt, are you saying that... my sister..." Danya stopped talking and gaped. Oh gods, this... this was not good. This was...

  "There's really worse things in life than being brought to magical orgasm and kept that way for multiple minutes, you know?" Matilda shrugged. "Ten minutes at the most, I imagine. It won't be much longer than a quarter of an hour, at any rate. She'll be tired after, of course, but that's how that goes."

  "I need to leave," Danya said. "We need to leave. Just... just take it out of her. Put it somewhere else. Send us away. I promise we won't bother you or anyone here ever again. Just... please? Please don't do this to my sister? She hasn't... we haven't... I never wanted this. I just wanted..."

  "Oh, bother," Matilda said, sighing. "I thought you'd understand, but I suppose not. Sleeping it off should help."

  "I can't sleep!" Danya screamed. "How do you expect—"

  A spell. Danya realized it a little too late. Matilda waved a finger through the air and slumbering dust fell upon Danya, knocking her unconscious. She teetered and wobbled on her feet, suddenly desperately tired.

  "—me... to..." Somehow she managed to finish part of her sentence before toppling onto the bed and falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  ...

  Alena lay on Dante's bed, lingerie-clad, marveling at the ceiling. He had paintings up there, somewhat. They weren't real paintings, nor were they colored like she normally expected, but there were lines drawn here and there, connected into shapes, moving this way and that. They reminded her of clouds or constellations, where the person looking at them got to determine what exactly they were. She liked them.

  Dante sat nearby, reading. Alena moved to watch him instead. She wondered about Dante. Was he like the ceiling, the lines? What was he exactly? And what was she, too?

  The witches explained it to her, but it seemed a little silly and fantastic to her mind. She was a succubus? Or partly one. Not bad, though, oh no. She didn't want to be bad, anyways. Alena just wanted to be herself, truth be told, though she wasn't entirely sure what that was, either.

  She wanted to test something. Would it explain more about who she was? Perhaps, but perhaps not.

  "Dante," she said, catching his attention.

  He glanced up from his reading. "Yes, Alena?"

  "Can we have sex?"

  "No," he said.

  She giggled hysterically, rolling on the bed. One of her new wings creased and bent on the bed cover, causing her to wince in pain and stop her laughter.

  Dante set his book aside and rushed to her side. "Are you alright?" he asked. "What were you laughing for?"

  "I forgot I have wings now," she said. "It just hurt a little. I like to move them, but I think I should put them away for now."

  Concentrating on the odd new muscles located somewhere along her back, Alena focused and pulled her gossamer wings inwards. They shrunk, moving closer to her body, then blended into her skin. On her back, patterned and dark like ink, lay the imprints of her wings. The witches told her she could pull them in and out of her skin like that, forming something akin to a primal tattoo, but a part of her, too. Living, different, existing in a sense unlike anything any other human could ever know.

  Alena grinned at the idea. Oh, she was different now, yes. She liked the thought of that. She didn't want to be too different, but she wanted something to set her apart. It never satisfied her to be... well, either Danya's younger sister, or the girl that boy's thought was some simple and easy sexual treat.

  In all honesty, that was why she delighted in Dante denying her about sexual things.

  "I can compel you," she stated, staring at him. He hovered over her on the bed now, watching her with interest and concern. "I could make you agree to have sex with me, you know?"

  Dante grinned wide. "You could, couldn't you? Will you, then?"

  "I hardly want to now," she said, acting haughty. "You've bored me."

  "I've bored you? Already?"

  "Why are you reading?" she asked. "What are you reading?"

  "Why or what? One answer involves another."

  Alena furrowed her brow, confused. Dante said things sometimes, and she didn't understand them entirely. He didn't treat her like an idiot, though. "I don't know," she said.

  "I'm reading a book about dragons and princesses," he said. "I like to think that someday I might need to rescue a damsel in distress, and if I read up about it, I'll know how to go about it when the time arrives."

  "I'm in distress," Alena said, hurried.

  "Are you?" Dante asked.

  "Yes. There's a handsome man that I know, and even when I'm laying atop his bed in a nightgown, he won't seduce me. It's distressful."

  "Distressing," Dante corrected. "I wonder why he won't? Odd."

  "I think he likes me," she whispered, shifting her eyes from side to side. "Do you think that's it?"

  "Hm." Dante tapped his chin in thought. "You think he likes you so he won't have sex with you?"

  "Seduce, I said. He likes me so he won't seduce me, because he wants there to be more."

  "More than what?"

  Alena smiled and fidgeted, rubbing her legs together. This was so fun and she loved it. She just wanted to talk with Dante forever. Nothing more. Or, maybe something m
ore, but they'd talk after, too. Maybe during? Was talking allowed during sex? But what would they talk about then? About... about things, about...

  Dante sidled into bed with her, laying alongside her. Kissing her forehead, he swept her long, dark hair back across her ear, watching her.

  Alena broke away from her mental babbling and gasped. "Dante! I'm sorry! Did I compel you? I didn't mean it. I don't know how it works entirely. I... no, no we don't need to have sex. I was just joking."

  "You didn't compel me," he said smirking.

  "Oh."

  "I do want to have sex with you," he said.

  "You do?" Oh, this intrigued her.

  "Yes, eventually."

  "How so?"

  "How do I want to have sex with you or how do I plan to do it eventually?" he asked.

  "Do you have plans for it? I never thought of that." Someone had plans for her? To seduce her? What did they involve? What was that about? Was that good, or...?

  "First," he said, teasing a finger from the side of her hair to her cheek, then her nose. "I'd like to get to know you better. I'll ask you to dine with me privately, and perhaps I'll do it very soon."

  "You will?" she asked.

  "Yes. And then..." He caressed down her nose and touched her lips with his fingers. "I'll flirt with you at dinner, and hopefully make you laugh and smile. I think you have a beautiful smile."

  His finger traced down her chin to her collarbone, and stopped as it reached between her breasts.

  "I don't think anyone's ever flirted with me before," she said. "I wish they would."

  "I will," Dante reaffirmed. "And I'll make some excuse to ask you back to my room. Perhaps to see a hunting trophy I collected a long time ago."

  "You have a hunting trophy?" she asked.

  Dante's lips touched against the side of her neck while his fingertip drew a faint, gentle line against the curves of the tops of her breasts. Alena's eyelashes fluttered and she let out a gasp of a sigh.