"You sound like Beatrix," Matilda scoffed. "Ridiculous."
"Shut up, you wench, and let me feel your pussy clench around my fingers while I bring you to orgasm."
What should she say to that? She did as he asked. The fate of Beatrix and Danya and Everett could be determined later. Alena and Dante weren't much more of an issue in her mind, either. Her heart pulsed fast, body tightening, as the Timekeeper pushed his fingers hard inside of her.
Perhaps he was right. Perhaps love and affection weren't a terrible thing, and everything would work out in the end. She doubted it, never really understood it either. Except she supposed she might now. Initially she'd sought the Timekeeper out as a means to immortality, but things escalated from there. When it was obvious he couldn't give her what she wished for, well... the rose was something, but it'd never work. And then Beatrix.
Beatrix's life expanded, too. Grew outwards. She found more, wanted more. Matilda only wanted to live. More could come after she figured out how to conquer time and eternity.
And she had, hadn't she? Unfortunately she grew fond of people in the process, despite what she wanted. Fondness never turned out well. Someone always got hurt by it. She remembered an expression she'd gathered from the future: You're fucked.
The Timekeeper was fucking her right now, wasn't he? With his fingers, but she knew there'd be more. Again. Over and over. They had an eternity, if they wanted. He'd lived forever already, and he wasn't jaded and cynical, so maybe she should let go of her apprehension, too.
She might consider it. Currently all she had on her mind was her impending climax.
...
Everett leaned against the front gates of the mansion grounds and stared into the surrounding forest. Everything used to be more lively here so long ago. The manse lay hidden in the woods, but there were paths and passageways created just to lead to this one, solitary point. People used to visit on occasion and play in the lake, bringing their children—or simply themselves—to swim on a hot summer's day. In the winter months, when the lake froze over, some visitors enjoyed setting up huts for fishing, while others frolicked and skated across the ice with specially-crafted shoes.
Everett used to do these things, too. He remembered it all fondly. Chasing after someone atop the ice with a predatory grin on his face, catching the woman up in his arms and swinging her around. Then they fell, together, landing on the lake's frozen surface, both of them laughing.
He'd bedded more than a few women that way. Playing, teasing, flirting. Nothing ever came of it. He never expected it to, never even wanted it to. What did they want, though?
Most of them wanted more, and he knew it. They'd sleep with him, then watch him, gazing at him with a sense of adoration and affection that he couldn't return. Am I the one, he imagined them thinking. Is this finally it? Has the Master of the Manse chosen a Lady to sit by his side.
It angered him in a way. Was that all he was to them? It only angered him for a little while, though; up until he thrust his cockhead between their willing, arousal-slick folds and plunged his cock deep inside of them.
Everett was no stranger to sex. He'd been having it for quite a long while, in fact. Dallying with some of the servants initially, then playing at seducing the daughters from families in the surrounding areas. Playing at seduction became actual seduction with barely any more effort, he learned, and it escalated from there. More, higher. Who could he seduce today? The daughter of a Lord? Her handmaiden? The Lord's wife, herself?
He remembered wanting to couple with a Queen at one point, but none lived near here. Everett's father and mother were as close as it came to being a King and Queen in this area. His only chance would be to visit surrounding regions, become accustomed to their households while on a trip, and bide his time until he could sneak into intimacy with someone as powerful as he would become.
That never happened, but Beatrix arrived sometime during all of this. He'd thought nothing of it at first, because... well, she was a witch. Except he watched her, spied on her, discovered more about her. She was a witch, yes, much more powerful than a Queen, but less than that, too. He had read and heard that witches were indifferent and crass, yet Beatrix was never like that. She apologized if she made mistakes, instead of blaming everything on someone else. She seemed genuinely interested in helping others, too.
Yes, people feared her, and Everett had to a point, but not for too long. Dante spoke with her, even. Beatrix liked his younger brother and they laughed together on occasion. There wasn't anything more there, though. Nothing that Everett could see, at least.
He'd grown obsessed soon after that. More obsessed, he supposed. Every woman he coupled with seemed beneath him all of a sudden. Or he imagined them being Beatrix, squealing and moaning as he pounded hard into them. He went harder, harder still. Beatrix was a witch and would never be so easily broken by roughness, or so he assumed. He found himself with more than a few tearful, frightened women laying under his spent body after that.
That intrigued and bothered him all at once. They climaxed, he knew. He felt their tremoring grip upon the shaft of his cock and the tensing of their bodies. Their eyes, their face. When a woman was in the clutches of orgasm, she always looked slightly in pain, or so he thought. Except now they truly were. Not only was he forcing an orgasm upon their weak and frail bodies, but he was inflicting pain on them, too.
Beatrix wouldn't be like that, he told himself then. These other women were useless, unacceptable, completely ordinary and dull.
And, in fact, Beatrix hadn't been like that. Everett never really had a chance to put his full force into fucking her, though. She'd restrained him, kept his sexuality in check with her odd perfection. It unnerved him and excited him. He'd thought to treat her like the other women he fucked, rutting hard into her plump, tight snatch and forcing her to acknowledge his cock as he dominated her completely.
He couldn't, though. He couldn't because her body controlled his. He'd first spent himself inside of her within mere seconds of entering her, and then after that it took all his will and control to hold himself back from repeating this humiliation. She controlled everything about their sexual encounter; the first and the second time. It was alarming and eye-opening.
The rest was mostly history. He grew scared of her, feared her power over him. He'd wanted to seduce a Queen, or more than a Queen, and he couldn't even control himself in the presence of a witch. Was this love, though? Was this more? Was this what he needed all along?
No, not entirely. Similar to how he toyed with other women, he sensed Beatrix was toying with him. Not in the same way, though. He came to realize the difference over his many years of beast-cursed existence. She enjoyed the game, reveled in it, and did it for the sake of doing it, which was entirely different than his initial logic. He did it to be better than someone, to prove a point to himself, to add a notch to his belt and brag about it to other men.
Now was different, though. He understood better. He had grown greedy and fallen into a similar groove upon first seeing Danya, but that had passed. It angered him so much to see her fucking other men, to know about it, but why? Well, of course he knew why; he wanted to fuck her himself. He wanted to make her his, to own and control her, to bind her to his will, and...
The only thing he knew how to do after he finished with her was to toss her aside. He never really wanted to do that, but he'd never done anything else. Perhaps unintentionally, or because of some innate fear dwelling inside him, he'd done it; left Danya after fucking her. Later, Alena served a purpose, but...
He grew fond of Danya's younger sister, too. They'd only mated once while he was the Beast, but he felt badly about it. She reminded him of Dante in a way. His younger brother was more carefree, despite being what essentially amounted to his indentured servant. Everett would never use his brother like that, and tried to set some equality between them, but Dante knew it was a lie. Their father and mother raised them both to be specific things, and no matter what Everett wanted, he couldn't change that
.
He thought maybe he could, though. Later in life, once he took a wife and became the true Master of the Manse, he'd give Dante freedom to do as he liked. He never ordered Dante around anyways, but sometimes he needed to tell him to do things. A facade, he thought to himself, just a show, but maybe it wasn't really. No matter his intentions, Dante was always inherently less than Everett, through simply being born a few years later.
Alena was like that. He could tell. She craved affection in a similar way to Dante. His younger brother hid it well, as he must, but Everett knew. Alena liked Dante now, too. They should be good for one another.
He hoped, at least. The curse wasn't fully broken yet. It might all come crashing down at any moment. If Danya decided to leave, if Beatrix abandoned him once more because of his folly, then within a matter of weeks he would return to his beastly form and everyone that he'd freed from their soul-imprisonment would go back into their respective inanimate objects.
He'd almost broken the curse once, or so he thought. It involved trickery, yes, but it should've worked. He knew now that it would never have worked, but what did that matter? He'd lured a woman to his mansion during a storm and donned a heavy cloak to hide his features. While she slept away her fatigue, he teased her legs apart and played with her feminine folds beneath her skirt. She kept sleeping, and he moved slowly so as not to wake her. Using her dreams as fodder for his needs, he somehow managed to push his erection into her wet pussy while she slept.
Slow motions then, not enough to wake her. Gentle rocking back and forth. It worked! Oh, yes, it worked. Could this go on forever, he wondered? Hiding his face from her, refusing to let her know that he was cursed to look like some horrific beast? Rain pattered outside, tapping hard against the window panes, and he pushed in a little more, deeper, and lost himself within the slumbering maiden.
He came hard inside of her, his seed filling her. She shifted in her sleep then, yawning, smiling. Her eyes opened slightly and he tried to move away, to hide his horrible and forbidden depravity, but it didn't work as planned. As he moved back, the hood on his cloak fell away, revealing his yellow eyes, fur-covered face, and sharpened teeth. The girl woke slowly, or she had, but when she saw him like that and realized what he'd done, she screamed.
She screamed and ran away, fleeing the mansion. She tried to break through the gates, but they were magic and contained her. Everett stared after her, watching in the rain, feeding on her fear and arousal. He could chase her, tie her down, keep her trapped in his mansion forever until he broke through her resistance and she became mindless and willing towards his rapacious intent.
Dante revived then and saw Everett standing there. He knew. The look in his brother's eyes as he stared with disdain at Everett was something he never wanted to experience again. Dante rushed into the heavy rain, wearing nothing more than light clothes which became immediately soaked, and he opened the gates for the girl. She escaped into the darkness of the woods.
Dante stayed for a few weeks after that, revived and wandering the mansion. Everett tried to talk with him, but he couldn't do it very well. He tried to explain, to apologize, to... to what?
Was it Everett's fault? If he wanted to free everyone, was that really his fault? What else was he supposed to do? No woman would come to him, no woman would couple with him normally under her own free will while he remained like this. Dante vanished again, bound inside of the suit of armor that he'd previously inhabited. Everett was alone once more.
Danya came, though. She accepted him. She stayed. She was here now, speaking with Beatrix. Beatrix told him somewhat of her personal desires for staying, but Everett didn't know if any of that would happen. He didn't care about Beatrix's offer, couldn't even think about it right now. He just wanted... needed...
"Everett," Danya said, coming up beside him.
In his beast-cursed form he would have smelled her approaching, would have heard the soft falls of her feet along the mansion path. As he was, he noticed none of this until she was already upon him.
He turned to offer her a sad smile. "Danya," he said, nodding a greeting. "I'll open the gates for you."
Using his inherent magic given to him by Beatrix, he focused on the metal gates. They shuddered and shook, then swung open, offering her a way to escape him. Why else would she be here, he wondered? What other reason did she have?
And she left. Walking through the gates onto the open path winding around the lake and into the forest, Danya left. Everett watched her go, unsure what more he could do. Should he say goodbye, or should he remain silent? Should he close the gates and return to the mansion and beg for Matilda and Beatrix's forgiveness? Could they stop his curse with their magic and free him from this torment?
Danya didn't go far, though. She stepped right outside of the gated area, then turned to look at him, offering him a quizzical glance. He watched her, unsure.
"Will you come swimming with me?" she asked.
"I..." All sense of words or how to use them vanished from his mind.
"Not in what you're wearing," she added, grinning. "It's interesting to see you wearing clothes."
She wore clothes, too. A pale blue dress given to her by his seamstress. Taya had mostly only crafted clothes of high quality, and then typically only for those who could afford her expensive services, which was essentially no one except his family. Only his mother had ever worn her exquisite dresses. Occasionally she gave in and created lesser quality gowns for servants or whatnot, but the seamstress hated it and barely put any effort into doing so.
It somewhat surprised him that she spent so much time and patience on Danya's dress.
"I don't have swimwear," Everett said, stumbling. Before, once upon a time, he would never have said anything even close to resembling that statement.
Danya winked, then blew him a kiss. "Neither do I."
"Danya, I..."
"I think I'd like to stay," she said suddenly. Her expression changed from playful to more austere, as well. "If I do, we'll need to get to know each other again. We haven't really done a good job of that, have we?"
Everett nodded. "No. I'm sorry. That's my fault."
"We can still have sex," she said. "I know the curse will come back if we don't, but to be honest I kind of enjoy it, too."
He gaped at her, jaw dropping. This was altogether not what he expected.
"I shouldn't tell you this, but I really liked when you buried your nose between my thighs and smelled my arousal," Danya said. "I guess there's not much of a reason for you to do it now, though. You can't smell as well, and..."
Oh, he would do it, he thought. He'd delight in her scent and her wetness and press his nose hard against her clit while plunging his tongue into her depths and savoring her lower lips with his mouth. He'd... no, no, he couldn't. He couldn't give in to those urges. He...
Danya lifted the skirt of her dress up and pulled the entire thing over her head. Tossing the garment to the ground, she stood before him, naked and smiling somewhat shyly. Not entirely demure, though, oh no.
Everett stared at her beauty. Danya wasn't perfect, but he loved her body. She was real and perfect in that way. Not fake, not throwing on a million types of cosmetics like many other women he used to know, nor using magic to enhance her appeal. He didn't mind those things, and in fact enjoyed them sometimes, but... Danya was different.
He stripped himself of his clothes as quickly as possible and threw them into a heap near hers. She watched him struggling to remove his socks while bouncing back and forth, first on one foot and then on the other. Once he tossed the last sock away, now standing before her naked, she ran from him.
Laughing, fleeing, sprinting towards the lake, Danya ran. Everett chased her, grinning. Before she could escape into the water, he grabbed her by the waist and picked her up into the air, spinning her around. She giggled and flailed before catching hold of him. Her arms held onto the back of his neck and he pulled her close to him, embracing her.
"I don't know i
f this will work," she said.
"I don't know, either," he said.
"We might be terrible for each other."
He nodded.
"None of this started well."
He agreed.
"If you'll try, then I'd like to try, too," she said. "And maybe... I don't know for sure, but maybe we can take Beatrix up on her offer," she added. "Not right away. Not yet."
"I'll try," he said.
"Is this like the legends?" she asked, worry creasing her brow. "Like the stories?"
"Hm?" he asked.
"Do... do you think we'll live happily ever after?"
"We can try," he said.
She smiled and nodded. "I'd like that, if we could. If that's how it works. I'd really like that, Everett."
They kissed, soft and sweet, holding onto each other while standing at the edge of the gentle waters of the lake. They would try. They would live happily ever after.
A Note from Cerys
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~*~
And they all lived happily ever after! Perhaps. It's not definitive, but I think everyone has a good chance at it, don't you?
I first started writing this on a suggestion from someone. They wanted to read a story about obsession and stalking and lust. I took those ideas and went with them, eventually letting the idea of an erotic fairy tale re-imagining of Beauty and the Beast form in my mind.
I've always been fascinated with fairy tales. I think they're some of the most interesting stories for a lot of reasons. Everyone's more familiar with the more recent sorts, where everything ends up wonderfully and everyone lives happily ever after, but fairy tales weren't always like that, you know? The original Grimm's versions, and others, were darker and contained more grit than otherwise. To be honest, some of them were downright scary, too. I don't know if anyone actually told these stories to their children, but if they did then I imagine it was more to keep them from doing things than anything else. Don't go into the woods at night or the wolf will eat you! Right?
Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel) Page 22
