Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters

by Aya Fukunishi, Linda Barlow, Elixa Everett, Virginia Wade, Savannah Reardon, Skye Eagleday, Giselle Renarde, Jessi Bond, Natalie Deschain, Audrey Grace, Francis Ashe, J. E.

  Of all the stories she’d heard about the beast, the ones that had stuck with her the most - the ones she’d forced herself not to think about as she rode through the dark forest - was his penchant for deflowering young maidens. Beauty had always been a virtuous girl, and the thought of losing it like this - in a dark, musty basement to a massive beast - was horrifying.

  The shadow was drawing closer.

  As a child, Beauty had been told time and time again to keep her thoughts pure. She remembered her father taking a switch to her after he caught her watching the horses mate. Good girls, she was told time and time again, didn’t allow their thoughts to stray to such things. Not even for curiosity’s sake. Beauty didn’t understand why the ways of love and lust were supposed to be so dangerous to the mind, but now that she was grown, she seldom questioned it. Until now.

  If she were about to be ravished by this monster, she would have preferred to understand exactly what she was about to experience.

  She knew the basic principle, of course. She had seen the horses. But she couldn’t quite comprehend how all of that would apply to her. Would the beast bend her over on all fours like a mare? Beauty felt herself blushing, a curious prickling heat travelling down her neck, her stomach, and lower.

  The beast was at the door.

  Beauty clenched her fists and stood her ground as he turned the key and pushed the door open with one massive paw.

  He was, in fact, taller than a man, covered in long, dark fur. Each of his massive paws had cruel-looking claws curving from the fingers and toes. He didn’t look like any animal she’d ever seen - then again, he wasn’t an animal.

  Then again, he was.

  He stared down at her, and she stared back, forcing herself not to flinch. She could see that his nose was twitching, taking in her smell. His bright, shining eyes, somewhere between orange and yellow - Beauty could now understand the confusion - closed for a moment. He exhaled, gently.

  He liked her smell. Beauty couldn’t decide if that was a good sign.

  Would he do it? Would he throw her down on the hard stone floor and take her there, like an animal? Beauty’s skin prickled with goosebumps, and a strange, unfamiliar heat was growing between her legs. She didn’t understand why her body was reacting like this. It was the same feeling she always got when she heard whispered tales of the beast’s womanizing ways - fear, perhaps, although it was unlike any fear she’d ever felt.

  The beast hadn’t spoken. It occurred to Beauty that she wasn’t sure if he could speak, although the old woman had left her with the impression that he was still mostly human. Hard to believe, now that she looked at him, fearsome in the flickering light.

  “Why did you bring me here?” she said at last.

  The beast growled softly. For a moment, Beauty was frozen in fear.

  Then, he spoke.

  “I need your help.”

  His voice was deep and rich, growling up from somewhere deep inside his massive, hairy chest. Beauty shivered.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  The beast stepped further into the room, crouching down on his haunches, curling his long tail around himself and wrapping one long arm around his knees. Beauty sat down cautiously a few feet away, watching him.

  “I was cursed,” he said. “Many years ago, when magic was still commonplace. Long before you were born, or your parents, or your grandparents.”

  “You don’t look old,” Beauty found herself saying, softly.

  The beast snorted. “I was selfish. I admit it. I was an evil, petulant child. Were you ever punished for something when you were a child?”

  Beauty thought of her father’s switch, of the horses in rut. “Yes,” she said.

  “I’ve been punished for a hundred years,” he said. “And I am running out of time to break the curse.”

  Beauty regarded the beast. He looked tired. Desperate. Sad. Isolated for a hundred years, if his story was to be believed.

  “What do you need to break the curse?”

  He looked at the floor. Beauty’s mind raced. What could it possibly be? Her blood? Her tears? Her virtue?

  “Your womb,” he said, at last.

  Beauty spent a moment in stunned silence.

  “What do you mean?” she whispered at last.

  “I suppose,” said the Beast, “that the witch who cursed me imagined the one thing I’d never be able to accomplish in this form is convincing a woman to bear my child. And I suppose she was right. I scarcely have the opportunity even to speak to them, let alone make such a proposal. I’m to be freed from my curse on the day the child is conceived, but that day will never come unless you agree to this.”

  “But I must agree to it.” Beauty looked at him. He didn’t seem like someone who was used to waiting for permission.

  “Yes,” he said. “Or the curse cannot be broken.”

  “I am sorry for your suffering,” said Beauty, quietly. “But I cannot grant you such a thing.”

  The beast raised his head and looked at her.

  “I have gold,” he said. “Gold and silver. Jewels. Anything you could possibly want.”

  Beauty shook her head.

  The beast stood to his full, impressive height, raised his head, and let out a blood-curdling howl. Beauty cowered on the floor, her hands clamped over her ears, until he stormed out, slamming and locking the door behind him.

  -

  As she slept on the cold stone floor, Beauty had a dream.

  It began much the same as her real life encounter with the beast had - riding alone through the dark forest, fear coursing through her veins. But when the beast appeared, rather than knocking her unconscious, he snatched her up off the horse and threw her onto the soft, mossy earth. He loomed over her, and she felt every hot, heavy breath on her face.

  As she lay under him, quivering, he lifted one paw and ripped her dress off of her body in a single motion. She felt goose bumps rise on her exposed skin in the cold night air, her nipples hardening as she shivered.

  The beast leaned in closer. His breath warmed her as he lowered his head down to her chest, his long tongue snaking out to lick the hard pink nubs at the peaks of her breasts. She squirmed, feeling a strange tingling sensation grow between her legs. He licked again and again, sending tendrils of pleasure through her body, until she felt herself grow damp and swollen in her most private place. She’d never felt like this before, but she understood what it meant - she was ready to become his mate.

  She saw it then, between his haunches - his massive member, growing long and hard, straining upwards. With a growl, he pushed her legs apart and slid inside of her. Beauty screamed, feeling as if he were splitting her open, stretching her more than she could possibly bear. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes as he thrust inside of her again and again, his rod growing ever larger, until, with a mighty roar, he spilled burst after massive burst of his seed into her channel.

  Beauty awoke to a wave of ecstasy coursing through her, exploding through her body with an almost unbearable intensity. She stayed on the floor for a moment, spent and panting, her mind fuzzy with pleasure.

  Her back and neck ached when she stood, but she forced herself to stretch her muscles and walk the length of the room a few times. Her legs were still slightly rubbery and her whole body felt strangely pleasant, in spite of her soreness - relaxed, and satisfied. It was unlike any feeling she’d experienced before.

  Beauty saw a pinpoint of light coming towards her once again. It was the beast. Beauty smoothed her dress, suddenly feeling self-conscious, mindful of the sweet, musky smell that still wafted from between her legs.

  The beast unlocked the door and entered the room wordlessly. He went to the sconce on the wall and took the torch out of it.

  “Come,” he said, and Beauty followed him down the hallway and up the massive stone staircase, because what choice did she have?

  His body seemed even more massive than before, now that she was looking up at it. His grand tail swi
shed back and forth as he walked. Beauty found herself wondering what he’d looked like as a man. Was he as grand and tall as the monster? Dark and serious, with a violent streak? Or had he been more gentle?

  She followed him up the stairs for what felt like an eternity. Her breaths were getting short by the time they reached what she judged to be the main floor.

  It was massive - and it had once been beautiful, she was sure. Torn, dusty tapestries covered the walls, along with huge paintings of people who were long dead. For one wild moment she considered running for the huge wooden doors, but she knew she wouldn’t even be able to lift the huge board that was holding them shut before the beast would be on her.

  So he followed him to the foot of the next staircase, bravely struggling up the next few steps before she had to stop to try and catch her breath. The beast didn’t notice at first, but after a moment he stopped and turned, seeing her sagging there, her cheeks pink with exertion.

  He leapt down the steps that were separating them, and before she had a chance to even realize what was happening, he scooped her up in one arm and began to carry her.

  Beauty squealed in protest, but the beast was deaf to it, taking the remaining stairs in leaps and bounds while Beauty clung to his fur. He finally came to a stop at the doorway to a room.

  There was a fire roaring inside, and a large, plush bed with magnificent curtains in the center. The beast made a gesture, indicating she should go inside.

  “Your room,” he said.

  “Oh,” said Beauty. “…thank you?”

  “Is it to your liking?”

  “I prefer my own room,” said Beauty. “At home.”

  The beast let out a low growl, and her heart stopped for a moment before she realized it was a laugh. “And have you come back with your entire village armed with pitchforks and torches? I’m afraid not.”

  Beauty’s heart sank. “Are you really planning on holding me captive until I agree to…help you?” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it.

  “I don’t expect you to change your mind,” said the beast. Then, he was gone, dropped to all fours and leaping across the hallway and down the stairs.

  He wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave the door unguarded, would he?

  Beauty quietly made her way across the hallway, creeping down the stairs one at a time until she reached the grand foyer. It was poorly lit, and every flickering shadow made her jump, but she was finally able to lift the barricade and push one of the heavy doors open.

  It was damp and gloomy outside, the garden overgrown with weeds and brambles. Beauty followed the path, glancing over her shoulder, mindful of the fact that the beast might be watching through any of the castle’s windows. The pathway was long and winding, but it finally opened up into a clearing…revealing the highest, most forbidding wrought iron fence that Beauty had ever seen.

  The gates were wrapped in heavy chains, fixed with a rusted lock. There was no way out.

  Beauty collapsed on the ground and, for the first time since her capture, she let herself cry.

  At some point she became aware that the beast was watching her, but she no longer cared. When her tears had finally dried, she looked up at him, sitting there, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “Just let me go home,” she said, her voice thick from crying. “I promise I won’t tell them about you. I promise.”

  The beast snorted. He stood, twisting his body around, pointing at a spot on his ribcage. For the first time, Beauty noticed a long stretch where the fur grew in a different direction, as if on a scar.

  “Years ago,” said the beast. “I thought I’d found my salvation. A woman of…ill repute. Surely, she would agree to have my child for the right amount of gold. We struck an agreement, but on the night before we were to consummate the deal, she returned with a mob. I barely survived. They nearly took my dear old nursemaid, the only person left in the world who cares about me. The woman was an outcast, like me - I never thought she’d betray me, but she thought nothing of it. Why should I trust you?”

  Beauty sniffed. “You didn’t have to bring me here in the first place.”

  “Ask yourself what you would do, if you were in my place,” said the beast, standing and turning back towards the castle. “Supper is nearly ready. I would be honored if you’d join me in the dining room.”

  Beauty was angry, but she was hungry, too, so she followed him back inside. As she walked past the gardens again she tried to picture what the place must have looked like before the curse; the bushes carved into elaborate topiaries, the fountains running. She tried to imagine being cursed into a beastly form. What would she do? She couldn’t quite picture herself resorting to kidnapping, but then again, she’d never thought she would have a dream about mating with a beast.

  The dining hall was on the first floor of the castle, and it was a grand sight. Two fireplaces blazing, candles lit all along the sides of the room, and a veritable feast laid out on the long table. Beauty’s stomach growled. The beast pulled out a chair for her with a flourish, and she almost had to laugh. He hadn’t completely forgotten how to be human.

  They sat across from each other at the grand table. The beast ate with his hands, watching her as she cleaned her plate of roasted bird and potatoes and pudding. She drank of the sweet spiced wine that the old woman poured for her, sparingly, she thought, but soon her head felt light and she was finishing her glass and pouring more.

  By the time the meal was finished, she was unsteady on her feet. The beast picked her up again, and she didn’t bother to protest when he carried her gently up the stairs to her room and laid her out on the bed. He stayed there, crouched on the floor beside her, still watching.

  Memories of the dream came back to her, and she realized how easy it would be for him to climb atop her and take her virtue. She wouldn’t have the strength to fight him, even if she wanted to. Lost halfway between reality and her dream, she reached out and stroked his fur, hearing him let out a low noise that was almost a purr.

  “I’m sorry,” she heard herself murmur. “But what would you do, if you were me?”

  The beast reached out and touched the side of her face with the smooth curve of his claw, a strangely gentle caress. “I would protect my virtue at all costs.”

  Beauty smiled.

  The same tingling heat from her dream was coming back. Her body responded without her permission, her hips rolling and her thighs parting as the beast’s claw travelled down the side of her neck and along the curve of her breast. She felt her nipple pucker and harden as he brushed past it, travelling down to her stomach before hesitating just over her navel.

  Beauty sighed, her legs spreading further apart as she let her eyes fall closed and forgot where she was.

  He’d pushed her dress up to her waist. The soft back side of his paw rested gently against her mound. She bucked her hips upwards, pressing her aching flesh harder against it. She moaned softly.

  The beast let out a low, growling chuckle. She felt the mattress dip down as he climbed onto it. She had to open her eyes then, only to see him crouching there between her legs.

  His member didn’t look anything like she’d imagined in her dream. It looked, she supposed, more like a man’s than a beast’s - limited though her experience was. It was long and thick, curving up towards his soft underbelly. Beauty felt her chest constrict, but she knew she wouldn’t have the self-control to protest if he plunged it inside her now, thrust it into her virgin channel until he filled her up with his seed. He stayed there for a moment, as if ready to pounce, and she really thought he would do it.

  But instead, he leaned his head forward, bringing his face down close to her womanhood. She could feel that she was hot and swollen there, those same sticky juices from her dream leaking out of her. The beast closed his eyes and breathed in her scent.

  Her mound was throbbing, needing so badly to be touched, but the beast didn’t seem to be in any hurry. She felt each hot breath gusting over her
needy flesh.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  She’d let her eyes fall closed again, but they shot open when she felt something warm and wet caress her intimately. The beast’s face was buried between her legs, and he was lapping at her with his tongue, slow and gentle at first, then faster, as she moaned and felt little ripples of pleasure coursing through her. It was completely unlike any feeling she could have imagined. She felt her inner muscles pulsing and quivering, building up with some unbearable tension, and then, a burst of incredible ecstasy and relief filled every nerve in her body. She cried out, shaking, her juices gushing over his tongue.

  A wave of delicious exhaustion came over her. She lay on the bed, flirting with the edges of sleep, as the beast stood and slipped quietly from the room.

  -

  Beauty awoke in the middle of the night to a slight noise in her room. She turned, her head still slightly fuzzy from the wine, to see the beast standing in the doorway, bathed in the light of the lantern he carried. There was a small bundle of fabric under his arm.

  He came up to the bed, laid the bundle beside her, and set the lantern on the floor.

  Beauty looked at him in confusion. She picked up the bundle and unrolled it; it was her travelling cloak, with her coin purse wrapped up inside.

  “Go,” said the beast. His voice sounded even gruffer than usual.

  “What?” Beauty whispered, disbelieving.

  “Go,” the beast growled, louder. “Before I change my mind.”

  He bounded out of the room before she had a chance to reply. Shaking, she lifted the lantern and ran down the stairs, to find the front door of the castle already open. She ran down the pathway. The grand gate was open, and there was André, his reins tied to one of the bars. He whinnied when he saw her.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” Beauty said, rubbing his muzzle. She turned and looked at the castle. The beast was sitting in one of the massive windows , his whole body sagging as if he carried a great burden.