Isabella and the Beast

by Audrey Grace

  “My h-help?” Isabella responded, stammering. “I-I don’t understand what you mean.” She was caught off-guard by the beast’s sudden sincerity and… vulnerability.

  She watched as he put one of his claw-tipped paws to the iron bars and opened the door, the rusty hinges groaning their disapproval. It was never locked! Isabella shook her head. Why hadn’t she tried to open it?

  With her back against the cold stone wall, she watched as the beast slowly stepped into her cell. He crouched down, and was startled to see that he had a tail. It curled around him as he lowered himself into a seated position, and then he placed his paws around his knees.

  “Please sit down.”

  “O-okay.” Isabella nodded and sat down cautiously, keeping her back pressed up against the wall. There was something sad about the way the beast looked, something forlorn. It made her less afraid. She couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on the rippling musculature of the beast’s body, how powerful he looked.

  It was at this point that Isabella noticed the beast was wearing clothing. A garment was wrapped around his groin, like underwear.

  Even this beast, huge and horrifying, had modesty. Was there more to him that was human? Was it just his body that was beastly, and his mind still that of a man’s? Or did whatever turned him into this also infect his thoughts?

  “A long time ago,” he began, his voice deep and rich. “I was cursed. It was a time when magicians roamed these lands. They were old, wrinkled things, both men and women, and they wielded the power of the heavens easily, and perhaps even callously.”

  “How long ago was that?” Isabella croaked.

  “Long before your time, or your father’s time. Or even his father’s time. I was cursed… punished. It was my own doing, I suppose. I earned that punishment, but it has been over two hundred years now. Two hundred! Time has been cruel to me. And now time is running out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The magician, a wretched thing, told me that I could break this curse. But there was a time limit. Time is running out. If I don’t manage to break the curse by that time, then I will have to live like this—” and the beast gestured at his own body, his face morphing into an expression of obvious disgust.

  “Forever?”

  “Yes. Forever.”

  “How can you break the curse?”

  “That is where you come in.”

  “Why?” Isabella gasped. What could this thing possibly want with her, a pure and innocent girl? Did he need to drink of her blood? Eat of her flesh?

  Or did he need to rob her of her purity? Isabella scolded herself internally again for letting her mind wander to such wrong and filthy thoughts.

  “I need,” he began, before taking a deep breath. “I need your child.”

  “My child?” Isabella replied, confused. “I do not have a child.”

  “You do not understand. I need you to have a child. With me. It is the only way to break the curse. It is the only condition the witch who cursed me spoke of.”

  “You’re going to rape me?” Isabella cried, pressing herself against the wall a little harder. She couldn’t help but let her gaze settle on the beast’s crotch.

  “No,” the beast sighed. “No. The condition was that you have to agree to bear my child. I cannot force it of you.”

  Isabella relaxed visibly, and then shook her head. “I-I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “Why not?”

  “It is impure.”

  “I can give you gold and silver.”

  “I’m sorry,” Isabella repeated quietly. “But I can’t. It is wrong. I will not do what you ask of me! You said it yourself, anyway. Unless I agree, it will do you no good to… to take advantage of me!”

  “But—” the beast began, before dropping his head. He began to move, and slowly got to his feet, his impressive height dwarfing the seated Isabella.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Will you not consider it?”

  “I will not!”

  A moment passed before the beast titled his head upward, extended his arms to the side, his claws glinting in the torchlight, and let out a blood-curdling howl that echoed throughout the dungeon. Isabella covered her ears and shut her eyes tightly, drawing her knees upward and burying her face into them.

  There was no mistaking it. It was a cry of anger.

  But when she opened her eyes again, the beast was gone, and the iron door of the cell closed. She got up and ran to it, trying to pull it open, but she could not. He had locked it!

  * * *

  With nothing more to do, Isabella lay down on the cold stone floor and quickly fell asleep. She dreamed, and vividly, too. She was riding through the forest, all alone. Even the comforting breaths and snorts of her horse Franco could not be heard. It was as though the beast she was riding on was a mute; not her own animated mount. She was enveloped in darkness, and a haze hung in the air, barely penetrable by eyesight. The trees on either side of her loomed over her, as if to laugh at her, mock her.

  Their bark morphed into mouths filled with shiny, sharp teeth. Their branches turned to claws, and they swept downward at her, trying to snatch her from her horse.

  Isabella screamed and shook her head, looking downward toward her horse’s mane. She was afraid. Fear coursed through her. Fear was her blood.

  The beast appeared, and snatched her from her horse. Like lightning, in the blink of an eye he had leapt from a dark hiding spot, held her tightly in his claw-tipped paws, wrapped her up in his powerful, muscular arms, and landed on the forest floor with a dull thud.

  The beast spun his head to look own at his prize, and he lay her on the ground and hovered over her, grinning and growling. She felt the warmth from his large body, felt his hot breath wash over her.

  The creature’s chest heaved up and down as the beast breathed deeply. He tensed his arms, clutched his paws closed, and howled, his cry so ferocious the haze around them was blown away momentarily.

  In one sudden motion, he looked down at her lying vulnerable on the floor, and he tore her dress from her body. It flew off her, soared sky high before landing on the branch of a tall, tall tree. It was snatched up by the tree’s branch claws, and the mouths returned on the bark, turning to grins and laughter.

  Isabella heard the cry of babies, and she looked left and right. There couldn’t be babies in the forest! It was impossible!

  She lay under the beast, naked, exposed. The cool hair teased her nipples into stiff points. Goosebumps erupted along the length of her body. She shivered. She shut her legs tightly, crossed them at her ankles, and covered her breasts with her arms.

  “No!” she sobbed, shaking her head.

  “Yes!” the beast snarled, his lips drawing tight. He leaned closer. His breath grew hotter. He licked up her body, his snaking tongue leaving a trail of his saliva glistening on her supple skin. She squirmed and writhed, feeling the warmth and wetness against her. She felt a tingling in between her legs, a growing yearning; an itch.

  The beast continued to lick her, dragging his tongue across her breasts, in between her breasts, up her neck, around her nipples. Tendrils of sensation, the beginnings of pleasure, thrilled through Isabella’s body.

  She felt her underwear growing damper and damper, its warm wetness pressing against her center, her most private place, like the beast’s tongue was her body.

  Looking down the beast’s body, she saw it. It was huge, massive, and thick. He brought its wide, purple and quivering tip to her entrance while pushing her legs apart. Her underwear was suddenly gone. She looked up to see that it, too, had been snatched up by the outstretched hands of the looming, swaying trees.

  She was bared to the great beast before her in entirety. Her purity, her innocence… he could see it all.

  He pushed his rod inside of her, and she gripped the wet earth with her fingers. She felt something new. It stretched her. It stung her. She felt pain. But she felt something else, too.

  The beast began to invade her agai
n and again and again. She screamed and groaned as he took her, until he rose up, rigid, and let out a monstrous roar as he filled her canal with his thick, sticky seed.

  “No!” Isabella screamed, her eyes shooting open. Pleasure thrummed through her; the ecstasy was so potent it was like the sting of a needle. She stared at the high ceiling, her brow and forehead beading sweat, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her pants. A warm and fuzzy pleasure swirled about her mind, and in her center.

  She felt herself swollen and hot. She felt herself tingling down there.

  “No,” she whispered again, shaking her head slowly from left to right, and she forced herself up and off the ground, and began to pace around the cell. She felt exhausted. The dream had been so real. Her legs still felt wobbly and weak, and yet there was an afterglow, a pleasant and fading sensation of bliss and joy.

  It was entirely new, too. She’d never felt something like that before. Never had a dream like that before.

  A sound echoed down the dungeon, and Isabella knew that someone was approaching. She quickly smoothed her dress, wiped her forehead and upper lip, and brushed her hair form her eyes.

  She became mindful of her own scent. It was subtle, just hinting at her arousal, but surely the beast would be able to smell it. He arrived at her cell and unlocked the door.

  “I am sorry if I scared you earlier,” he said in his deep voice. “I did not mean to.”

  “It is fine,” Isabella murmured.

  “Please,” he said, before pausing and sniffing the air. He stared at her intently for seconds, and Isabella hated feeling like she was under scrutiny.

  “Please what?” she demanded, turning her back on the beast.

  “Please,” the beast repeated, this time more softly. “Follow me.” He gestured with his claw, but Isabella did not move. “I will not hurt you, but if you don’t follow me, I will make you.”

  Isabella gulped and nodded, and followed him down the dungeon. His hulking form seemed to have grown even more massive than before, but she knew that it must be the light from the flickering flames of the torches that lined the walls that flanked them.

  His back was broader than any man’s she’d ever seen, and his shoulders were rounded like cannonballs. She found herself wondering what he’d looked like as a man. Was he a big and strong man, too? Was he handsome? What had he done to deserve such a curse?

  They came to a giant spiral stone staircase, and Isabella followed him up and around it, step by step. The beast had to duck as they went around. He was too tall, and Isabella’s lip twitched slightly as she watched the ridiculous sight of the gigantic thing before her bent double while climbing.

  They climbed for what seemed like an eternity, and the steps grew longer and higher so that, gradually, the beast did not need to hunch anymore.

  Isabella was very nearly panting when they finally reached a landing, and her face was flushed, and a sheen of sweat could be seen on her neck. She gasped as she looked around. The room was massive, adorned with wonderful ornate furniture that looked dusty and neglected. Tapestries hung from the walls, but shadows shrouded them.

  “This room must have been beautiful once,” she whispered.

  “It was. Come.”

  Isabella followed the beast through a doorway to another set of stairs, and she sighed as she began to climb. But she was growing tired and dizzy, and stood still, sagging for a moment to catch her breath. She gripped her knees and inhaled deep, heaving breaths of oxygen. Her cheeks were pink and her vision was fuzzy.

  Glancing up, she saw the beast turn and look at her, his yellow eyes shining.

  He approached her slowly, palms held outward. “Do not be afraid,” he said, before scooping her up into his arms. Isabella squealed, hitting the arms that held her, but her physical protestations did not even make the beast flinch. With what felt like a minimal effort on his part, he carried her up the stairs, step by step, rapidly.

  His arms did not tremble with her weight, and as she held them with her hands, she felt the hard muscles beneath his skin, the power they had. She traced a snaking vein that lined the beast’s upper arm. It throbbed with his heartbeat, and with each bobbing step, with each pulse of beast’s heart, she trembled slightly.

  They came to another landing, and Isabella saw a massive bed with beautiful curtains, and behind its end a roaring fireplace. “This will be your room,” the beast growled.

  “My room?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is not my room. This is not my home.”

  The beast responded by snarling slightly, and Isabella quelled the rising protest inside her. She knew she shouldn’t antagonize this creature, this ex-man with a dark streak of violence lurking inside him.

  But the creature had not hurt her yet. The beast needed her. She could push back, and do so hard. His snarl began to morph, began to hitch, and Isabella realized the beast was laughing. “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

  “I admire you. Still, now, you are defiant.”

  “You can’t keep me here,” Isabella retorted. She felt distinctly ridiculous. The beast was still carrying her, and she pouted her lips and and crossed her arms. “Put me down.”

  “As you wish,” the beast said, before setting her down on a rug on the floor, and laughing some more.

  “You can’t keep me here!” Isabella repeated.

  “Why not?”

  “They’ll come and get me?”

  “Who?”

  “The people from my town!”

  “Really?” The beast walked toward a window and peered out. “I do not see any torches. I do not see any men. I do not see any pitchforks. Nobody is coming for you.”

  “You can’t just keep me locked up in here! Are you really going to imprison me until I agree to… you know…”

  “I do not know yet,” the beast replied, and then he disappeared back down the steps. Isabella heard the doorway at the bottom of the steps shut and the metallic scratching of the heavy bolt lock sliding into place.

  Isabella fell to the floor, crumpling up and hugging her knees. She felt a tear escape her eye, and that was all that was needed.

  For the first time that night, she let herself cry.

  * * *

  It was some time later, when Isabella had wiped her eyes and tried her best to rub the dry sting from them, that she became aware the beast was actually watching her. He was perched in her window, framed against a giant moon that silhouetted him. It almost looked like a halo, she thought vaguely.

  “What do you want?” she asked quietly, not bothering to hide the wetness in her voice, not bothering to be afraid anymore. She wondered distantly how he had even got there. Had he scaled the outside wall? Why hadn’t he just come in through the door?

  But one thing was for certain: It was perfectly clear to her that the beast was not going to harm her, nor force her. He’d never get his wish that way, and he would live like cursed, sorry wretch forever.

  “May I tell you a story out of my past?” the beast asked after a moment. He clasped his claws together in a distinctly human gesture, and placed them before him outstretched as if to say: ‘I will not hurt you; my hands are tied.’

  “No.”

  “Please, if you would indulge me. It is about a woman who—”

  “What?” Isabella interrupted. “Another one of your captives you tried to seduce by force? Don’t you understand? We do not simply give ourselves up like that, and especially not someone like me!”

  “Please don’t interrupt me again,” the beast said darkly, and Isabella shrunk a little.

  “Why? You won’t hurt me. You need me.”

  “There are others I can take.”

  “You said it yourself! There is not much time left!”

  The beast growled and shook his head. “Let’s try again. The story is about a woman, one who begged and pleaded me to let her go. She promised me she would not tell anyone. What do you think I did? Do you think I let her go?”

  �
��I don’t care,” Isabella said petulantly. “But if it is important, no, you probably didn’t. You probably let her rot in your dungeon.” She spat it at him, but knew that she didn’t really mean it.

  “No, that’s not what happened. I let her go, actually.”

  “Then why won’t you let me go?” Isabella cried, exasperated. “I promise not to tell anyone as well!”

  “Because,” the beast said, and he beckoned her with a claw-tipped finger. “Come, and I’ll show you.”

  “I don’t want to come,” she hissed.

  “Then I will come to you.”

  “Fine.” Isabella watched as the beast dropped down from the window with grace, his padded paws barely making a sound as they made contact with the red and golden rug on the floor.

  “Look at this,” he whispered when close to her, and she felt the warmth of his breath wash over her. He pointed to a point on his chest, and then traced his finger downward. Isabella noticed after a moment that where he had traced, there was no hair, no fur.

  “A scar?”

  “Yes,” the beast said, nodding. “Many years ago, I held a woman captive like I do you now. She begged me to let her go, so I did. Only, she returned with a whole village of angry people. They had torches, pitchforks, and they ransacked the place. They gave me this, and they very nearly killed my nursemaid. I saved her, but in doing so, a violent man dragged his knife across my chest. I was just protecting an old woman.”

  “So what?”

  “So, the woman I let go, she did not keep her promise.”

  “One woman betrayed you. I am not her. We’re not all the same. You have to let me go. Please let me go!” Isabella looked deeply into the beast’s yellow eyes, and saw that the creature’s orbs were wet, as if he was fighting back tears.

  “But I trusted her!” the beast replied, his face morphing into a pained expression. “I trusted her. She was a beauty. I told her she would be my guest, and when she declined, I let her go!”

  “So your trust is broken, and your heart is cold. Tell me, why is it some witch put this curse on you, anyway? What could you possibly have done to deserve it? Judging by your actions now, how you kidnap me and bring me here, and demand something of me, something… indecent! Maybe it is because you are not pure.”