Taming the Beast

She was grateful for her forethought, as it was only on days like today, after having the dream, yet again, that she found it difficult to accept Mrs. Pulse’s attempts at converting her. But this morning she found it hard to even act civil, let alone drink so.

She tried to be like Mrs. Pulse and keep her frustrations from showing, as they all had their own problems around here, but she could already tell that today wasn’t going to be one of her more successful days.

She took in more of the hot, soothing coffee, trying hard not to let her irritation this morning show. She knew her mood wasn’t Mrs. P’s fault, but damn it. That dream fucked up her entire day, every damn time she woke up with it teasing her, torturing her, like it had yet again this morning.

Her body still ached from it. She didn’t even mind when she carelessly missed her mouth on her next sip and coffee burned her lap, as it almost took her mind off of the other kind of heat that was burning so hot between her thighs. Almost.

She figured she’d probably just have to lock herself into her massive, beautiful library again and lose herself in the fictional tales of other, more glamourous, sexy, exotic places, and try to forget that she was stuck here, alone but for the also cursed, animated objects that her father had installed here to keep her prisoner in this posh, luxurious, gilded cage.

She’d hoped that her father’s rage would have calmed long before, as he’d really gone overboard this time, but unfortunately he’d died before he could come to his senses that night and remove this silly, stupid curse.

Just because he’d walked in on her and her boyfriend in bed was no reason to do all of this!

He’d kicked Gastard out, naked, in a rage, not even letting him gather his clothes!

Even replaying that part in her mind, Belle couldn’t help but dwell on how beautiful that man looked naked. As she watched Gastard in her memory now, scrambling out of her bed when her father had burst in, she took note of his every plane and curve. His powerful back, his bitable biceps, his rock hard but still squeezable ass, fuck she was getting horny for him all over again.

Damn it.

She both loved and hated the nights that dreaming of him back then, in her bed every chance they could sneak some alone-time in, came back to haunt her. She remembered how he turned back toward her that night, right before he’d been shooed out her bedroom door with threats of death and damnation from her father.

He’d winked.

I’ll be back, that wink said. As soon as your dad calms down, love. I’ll be back. Don’t worry, it will be all right.

Only it hadn’t been all right at all.

Her father had seen that wink as well, and he also saw the huge erection Gastard still sported. Thick and hard, trembling with need and trying to reach for her, that magnificent cock stood proud and defiant against her father, and Belle knew that was what sent him over the edge.

If Gastard had slithered away, his cock limp, embarrassed at being caught, swearing it would never happen again, her father might have calmed down, but nope.

The knowledge that they’d be right back to fucking like rabbits the moment they could see each other again had pissed her dad off so much that he’d waved his hand and yelled out his curse, dooming her to this, before he’d stormed out of the manor in a cloud of rage.

Only, instead of coming back home later that night, his anger faded, to speak to Belle more rationally, realizing that she was a grown ass young woman who’d only made a mistake in thinking she’d have an empty house longer than she really did, her dad had gotten completely pissed-drunk down at the bar. He’d fallen off of his bar stool, hitting his head and dying before he could reverse his angry curse.

With her father dead, and her mother having run off with some traveling flying-carpet salesman long ago, she’d been left here ever since.

All the staff in the manor at the time had been caught in the same curse, only they’d been turned into various sex toys instead of what she’d been turned into.

And none of them could leave the manor.

She’d waited and waited, but Gastard had never returned. She eventually assumed that whatever kept her here in the manor also kept him, and anyone else, from coming here, as no one had ever come here again.

She was stuck here, doomed to be the only human in the place, the love of her life chased off naked and never to return. And that wasn’t even the worst part of the curse. Every time she’d tried to leave the manor, to go find Gastard, well let’s just say that did not go well.

“I just ache for him, Mrs. Pulse. You know? I miss him so much. His ability to laugh at himself, to never take himself too seriously. The way he just commanded your attention by walking into the room, the way his kiss made me warm and tingly all over,” Belle sighed.

She drained the last bit of coffee and set her mug down on the table before continuing, her mind now firmly in the past.

“The way his cock felt…”

Mrs. Pulse cut her off right there, interrupting with, “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“Sorry, Mrs. P. I forgot where I was there for a minute. It’s that damn dream, you know? When he comes to me in that dream, all is right with the world. And then I wake up and he’s still gone. I just ache for his touch, that’s all. Surely you understand. I’m assuming there was a Mr. Pulse in your life before you got stuck here with me. You get it, don’t you? That burning need to be touched. Kissed. To be flipped over and fu…”

“I’m going to send Eva in here for you to talk to, Belle. She’d be more appropriate for this kind of conversation. I’m sorry, I truly am. But I have my own issues. There is a Mr. Pulse out there, and it’s just too hard to dwell on.”

“Yes, of course. I understand. No need to send Eva in, I’ll be all right.”