by J. M. Keep
Danya wore a plain brown dress so as not to attract attention. Beneath that, though, she had on an expensive matching set of panties and a bra. Both were dyed with small spots and made to look like the fur of some wild animal, a fierce leopard. It seemed fitting, if she were indeed about to meet the so-called beast.
She didn't know what she expected by going to the mansion, though. She didn't know if she actually believed the beast existed, either. Perhaps she'd dreamed everything. Some odd state of mind. Supposedly woman became more aroused at certain times of the month, and while she'd never noticed it as desperately as this before, she was starting to believe it was true.
And how would the beast feel if he did find her? The letter he sent, if he sent it, said he had an urge. She assumed this was sexual in nature, but maybe not? He could want to eat her, she supposed. But, if he had a sexual urge, and he'd watched her fucking another man in the backroom of her father's shop, maybe he'd be angry. Would he want to devour her instead of fucking her, if that's what he even wanted in the first place? Would his rage at seeing her with another man overcome his lustful intentions and force him to end her life right then and there?
She didn't really know how that would work. She didn't know much beyond the fact that as she walked through the woods she felt dreadfully afraid. Afraid of everything. The smallest chirp from a cricket caused her to jump and made the hair on her arms stand on end. When a squirrel skittered in the branches above her, she hid behind a tree.
Yet she continued on. Enthralled, like a trance, she needed to go and she did. She must have walked for hours, but it seemed more like ten minutes. She arrived suddenly, the lake at her feet, the water lapping up to lick at her revealed toes above her sandals. She bent down and touched the water with her fingers then rubbed the cold liquid over her chest and arms to cool her down and calm her nerves.
The ramshackle mansion in the woods was at the other side of the lake.
The beast was standing right behind her.
She turned to look around and saw him, and then she screamed but it was too late. He ran forward and grabbed her by the waist, picking her up. Her screams went unanswered in the middle of the woods. The beast carried her, kicking and screaming, towards the entrance of his mansion. The gated fence unlocked and opened as if by magic when he approached, and shut after he carried her through. They ran down the winding path to the front doors of the mansion, and those too opened and closed on their own.
When he had her inside, she'd screamed so much that her throat was dry and parched. He put her down on a lush, red carpet in the foyer just inside the doors and stared at her.
His nostrils flared, sniffing, but he held his composure and stayed away from her crotch even if his eyes kept darting downwards every few seconds.
She looked at him then, all of him. He stood on two legs like a human, and appeared mostly human except for the hair covering the entirety of his body. His legs were strong and muscular and long and he looked like he ran ten miles a day or more. Up further, his cock stood at attention, the head glistening with precum. He had less hair here and on his legs and chest, more like a thin layer of fur than anything else. Actually, now that she saw him up close, the top of his head and his jaw had the most hair, thick and shined. When she thought on it, he looked almost like a very tanned person with a full beard and thick head of hair; the kind of hair she wanted to run her fingers through and grab and pull him towards her into a passionate kiss.
The beast stood there, letting her inspect him, and then he spoke. "Sorry," he said.
She looked at him, confused. "Why are you sorry?"
"I need," he started to say, but his voice cracked. "I need you. I have need since I saw you in trees with man."
"Who?" she asked, then answered her own question. "Oh, Michael."
"He is not good enough," the beast said.
Danya laughed. Boy, was he right. Michael definitely wasn't good for much. "Do you have a name?" she asked. Becoming bold, she stepped forward and put her hand on his jaw, caressing his face up to his cheek. "Are you here all alone?"
"Everett," he said. "Yes. Alone."
"You need me," she said, slowly. "What do you need of me?" She moved closer to him, gently exploring his face with her hand.
"I need." He stumbled for words, looking unsure of himself. "I'm sorry," he said before moving his hand to cup her sex. "I need."
Danya smiled at him. He was so strong and masculine, the epitome of manliness in her eyes, but so fragile and delicate at the same time, confused and unsure. "I'm very thirsty," she said. "Do you have wine?"
"Wine," he said, practically running to fetch it. "Yes, wine. I have."
He disappeared from her sights, vanishing down a long corridor and through a doorway. When he returned, he carried a bottle of wine and two glasses. The wineglasses looked miniscule in his massive hands and she laughed when she saw them.
"What?" he asked, frowning.
"I don't think we need glasses," she said.
Taking the glasses from him carefully, she set them aside on a small table by the doors. He'd uncorked the wine from wherever he'd gotten it, so she lifted the bottle to her mouth and drank deeply. It tasted rich and luscious, with a hint of a floral scent to it. Danya swished it around in her mouth, savoring it, then swallowed. She offered the bottle to Everett and he drank as well, grinning.
"Good?" he asked with that same goofy grin on his face.
"I want you," she said.
The beast transformed. Wanting to please her before, wanting to gain her acceptance, once he had it he no longer intended to play awkward flirtatious games. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into the air. Before she knew it, they were in a sumptuous dining hall, her sitting on the end of a table while his pulsing cock prodded against her dress-covered stomach.
"I need," he said.
"Yes," she said. "You need."
He tried to enter her, but she still had her dress on. Acting gentlemanly for a second, he struggled to lift off her dress without ripping it with his claw-like fingernails. She laughed and he looked at her oddly.
"Rip it," she said. "Tear it all off. Take me."
He snarled and pulled on her plain brown dress. His claws sunk into the fabric, never touching her skin, and he shredded it down the sides before tearing it from her. Now she sat before him in only her leopard-looking bra and panties, ripe and fit for the taking by any true beast.
He stared at her long and hard, taking in all of her, waiting. He seemed to like just looking at her. She liked it, too; the mounting tension, palpable between them. His prodding cock throbbing, pressing against her stomach, but doing no more. She saw his nostrils flare slightly and got an idea.
Inching away from him for a second, she kicked off her sandals and let them fall to the floor. He watched her as she slid out of her panties and held onto them. Grinning at the undergarment, she rubbed it against her slick folds and then lifted it towards him. He strained to control himself, but finally gave into his urges and drove his nose into her hand and the arousal-scented panties.
Everett went wild, truly a beast. He rocked against her, his cock sliding up and down her stomach. She inched forwards again until she was on the edge of the table, and at this angle his cock found the folds of her pussy and slid between them, up and down alongside them. His cockhead moved between rubbing against her clit to poking at her belly button, and back again, grinding against her, while he sniffed frantically at the panties in her hand.
She tossed them away, across the dining table. Everett looked at her, frowning, but she remedied this by moving his cock downwards until it barely entered her wet slit. Danya wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in by the waist, feeling every inch of his shaft as he pressed into her. Everett, unsure from the loss of the panties, soon found his way again.
He pulled her close to him and filled her with his cock. Danya winced and screamed out at the size of it, but wanted more and more. The beast inside of her pulled out
fast, then slammed back into her, faster than any man had ever fucked her. He left her slowly next time, every throbbing vein and twitch from his cock exciting her in tantalizing ecstasy, then he filled her up in the same slow, agonizing fashion.
"I need," she said. Her hands wrapped around him and her fingernails dug into his back. "I need!"
Everett teased her, pretending to thrust into her, but stopping halfway. He repeated this a couple times, smiling at her urgent tugs, until finally he gave in and sheathed his entire cock inside of her. Danya screamed, yelling out her pleasure, and urging Everett on. He thrust and pounded into her, the soft fur on his stomach pressing against her clit every time he slammed in, building her up and up to much needed release.
Just as she was about to orgasm, he stopped. Her mind blanked, confused, frustrated. When she opened her eyes he was gone and she wanted to shriek in anger, but before she could he had his face buried between her sopping folds. He sniffed hard, devouring the scent of her arousal with his nostrils. His tongue moved out to lick at her slit while his nose tormented her clit, rubbing back and forth, digging into her pleasure pearl.
Danya climaxed, fierce and slick. Everett lapped up her juices and covered his nose with her orgasm's scent. He kept going, pushing her on and on, until she lay exhausted on the table.
"My fucking god," she said. "Fuck."
Everett wasn't done with her, though. He jumped atop the table and gently, but urgently, dragged her to the center of it. Flipping her so her stomach touched the smooth wood, he hurried behind her and then drove his cock into her sore, abused cunt. She yelped and squeaked, but grinned at his imperative lust.
The table rocked beneath them. Bent at his knees with his cock delving into her at an angle, he lowered his arms to her waist and roughly grabbed her hips, fucking her faster, using his entire body to forward his motions. More crude and crass than any of her previous lovers, she wasn't sure if she could handle him, but she desperately wanted to. Every time he entered her, he grinded himself inside of her so her crotch and clit rubbed against the smooth wooden table. Her breasts heaved, squished beneath her, wanting to flatten but too large and pert to do anything but act as cushions for her upper body.
Her whole body ached now, her long walk through the woods and his rough handling of her taking its toll. He pounded into her and her pleasure rose, but she felt like she needed to rest, too. She clenched her thighs together, her whole body tensing, and squeezed her orgasm forth, needing it despite her fatigue. When her pussy tightened, begging for his cock, he bucked into her and howled.
Orgasm wracked her entire being and she tightened every muscle in her body as much as she could. Who cared about being sore later? This was the most exquisite thrill she'd ever experienced. Everett's cock jerked inside of her, pouncing like its own miniature beast, and erupted. The first jolt of cum splattered her insides hard and she expected the second to come just as fast. Surprising her, he moved back, half-pulling his cock out of her, then slammed back in just as the second jet of cream claimed a place inside her. Again and again he did this, a third, fourth, and fifth time. By the tenth, his strength was wavering, but his cum seemed nearly as strong and thick as the first batch. She felt his warmth inside of her and his seed seeping out of her and onto the table.
Her orgasm calmed, slowing to a quiet thrum, and his stopped, as well. He buried himself inside of her one last time, laying atop her, breathing on her neck. She turned her head to look at him and lifted her hand feebly to touch the side of his cheek. Sniffing at her hair, he lifted her torso up slightly so he could cup her breast in one hand.
This, she thought, was amazing.
As they spooned in their odd position on the table, something strange happened. A large grandfather clock against the wall chimed the time with four loud peals. In the center of the clock face a light sparked, appearing into existence out of nowhere, then clambered from out of its timely prison. It floated nearly six feet off the floor and dripped sparkles like confetti downwards. The little bits of light spread out and coalesced into the shape of a man, then shimmered bright and blinding.
Danya blinked, but was too caught up in the afterglow of her orgasm and the safe, warm feel of Everett's arm around her and his body pressed against her to do more than watch.
When she finished blinking, the figure of an elderly gentleman wearing a butler's uniform took the place of the shining light. The gentleman gasped, startled, then looked at the pair in front of him on the table. He smiled and bowed courteously.
"I see the master has found a mistress. Has it been a long time, sir?" the butler asked.
"Yes," Everett said. "Long. I need." He squeezed Danya's breast and pressed against her, his half-hard cock teasing her aching body.
Danya wriggled beneath him, feigning discomfort, but if he wanted to take her again right then and there she would have let him in a heartbeat.
"I believe I am the first to return," the gentleman butler said. "If that is the case, please allow me to fetch you and the lady a meal from the kitchens. It will take some time, so I do hope you both have a means of keeping occupied?" He waggled his eyebrows at them, smirking.
"Yes," Everett and Danya said rather quickly.
The butler left, laughing as he went.
"I need," Everett said to her when they were alone again, "but... we wait. You rest. Then more? Good?"
He moved to her side and she nuzzled against his chest. "Yes. I want, too. Is it the curse from the story? Will me staying and doing this bring everyone back? Will you change?"
"Yes," Everett said. His brow scrunched up, thinking. "I need... for more, though. You understand? Not curse. Curse is bad, but I... want? I like. I need."
"I understand," Danya said. She curled her body against his, as cozy as if she had a warm blanket covering her and was laying by the fire. "Let's rest. I'm tired."
"Yes," Everett said. "Sleep."
~~
A Note from Cerys
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Hello! I hope you enjoyed Hunted by the Beast. This was one of the first things I wrote when I started indie publishing, but it's one that I think is really timeless and classic, too. It's also quite sexy! There's a lot going on, but it's a really entertaining story because of that, I think.
My goal with Hunted by the Beast was to take some of the appeal of the old Grimm's Fairy Tales, but convert them into an erotic type of setting. The original versions of fairy tales had some really grim, taboo and dark things going on, you know? It wasn't all about the happy ending that fairy tales seemed to gain later on.
I do like happy endings, too, though. I didn't want to go too crazy there. I just thought it'd be fun to write something more on the taboo side of sexuality, with that same dark appeal that original fairy tales had.
If you enjoyed Hunted by the Beast, you'll be glad to know that I wrote more with Danya and Everett, too! And... it gets a little crazier, haha. In a good way, though, I think.
You can certainly read Hunted by the Beast as a standalone if you'd rather, too, but if you want to continue with the story and find out more about the characters (and some other characters, as well), then definitely grab Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (or A Sultry Retelling on Amazon). This full-length novel contains Hunted by the Beast, along with four more parts/chapters to the story. I hope you'll check it out!
Thanks so much for reading this, too. If you liked this story and this bundle, I'd love if you rated and reviewed it. Not only do I appreciate it a lot and enjoy reading comments and feedback from others, but it helps me and the other authors in other ways, too. So let us know what you think!
I hope you'll look for more from me. Happy reading!
TOO
PERFECT
By J.M. Keep
The dark vehicle drove up to the estate’s manor in the morning, before the festivity setup. The men in the car got out and escorted a shrouded individual up the stairs.
Together, they guided the trio into the back of the manor where a middle-aged man with stark, black, backswept hair met them in an antique-looking study. The walls were lined with mahogany bookshelves, and leather-bound books of the paper variety, which were out of fashion for the modern era.
“It’s all ready, then?” asked the well-dressed man.
He poured some amber liquor into a glass and taking a sip as he eyed the figure in the shroud, unable to make out any of his or her features.
“She’s all good to go, Sir,” responded the shorter, more portly of the two men.
He pulled back the black mask and cloak that hid the woman beneath. “A miracle of modern science,” he declared, momentarily awestruck.
She was scandalously dressed, wearing nothing more than high heels, black stockings, a thong and a bra.
Mr. Raynor stepped around her, sizing her up very slowly. She had changed considerably since he’d seen her last. Not a total revision of her appearance, but many accentuations… or was it corrections?
“And she’s had no plastic surgery?”
The dapper, cold man studied her round backside, her sumptuous cheeks devouring the thread of the thong wholesale. He let his steely gaze slip to her front, where the bra was barely able to contain the enhanced endowments of her breasts.
“It seems hard to believe,” he remarked, taking another sip of the liquor.
“I assure you, it’s all done with hormone treatments, exercise and behavioural therapy,” the portly man responded with a certain amount of pride. “The young lass was treated to a regimen of specific hormones tailored for her physique – and your specifications, Sir – ” he added with a nod and a smile to his employer. “Then we put her through the behavioural programs.”
The other man stepped forward and pointed towards the motionless woman, standing with half-lidded eyes, a hazy smile on her face as she, soaked up the attention with but a subtle shift of her weight from one long, shapely leg to the other.
