Booty and the Beast Page 2

  “Correct.”

  I shouted in angry despair, “An eternal curse?”

  “That is up to you.”

  “Then I choose to change back now!”

  “You misunderstand, Beast. Only true love can break the spell––a bond formed by two.”

  “You lie! It’s not up to me at all then.”

  “Oh, but it is, Beast. The only way a woman could love a hybrid creature like you…is to earn her love.”

  “Bitch!”

  “I see you’re off to a poor start.” She handed me the glowing rose again. “This radiant rose of love will stay in bloom for twenty-one years. With each year, it will shed a little more beauty. On this day––twenty-one years from now…if not nurtured with the powerful seed of true love––it shall wither and die.”

  “And if I find such love?”

  “Your exterior shall return.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I find love every night––”

  “I warn you––true love is not a one night stand. True love does not come from a cock…but a heart.”

  Frustrated and impatient, I turned to tell her, “Just get the hell out of––” though by the time I turned back, she was gone. Only the glowing rose remained. I picked it up, ordering Cogsworth, “Put this in a glass case, safe in my bed quarters.”

  Slow to respond, he said, “Uhhh––yes, Prince…as soon as I learn how to walk––and use these hands. If I may offer a bit of advice––you mustn’t go back in the Crimson Room, your guests…the townspeople will––”

  I finished his sentence, “Will help me break this spell.”

  I rushed back to the Crimson Room of Pain. In my hurry, I paused to notice the strange gallop I’d developed. I’m walking on all fours…like a fucking dog, I thought in embarrassment.

  Rushing to find a true love, I snuck back into the Crimson Room of Pain. The orgy was in full swing, women strung up on racks, being whipped, paddled, teased and sexually tortured. I announced, my voice extra deep, “Who is willing to be my true love for the night?”

  Every pretty head turned in my direction. Their faces went pale, gazes turned sickly. Any sound of pain or pleasure transformed into one commonality: terror. Screams of sheer fear tore through the room.

  “It’s a––monster!”

  Everyone went running for the exit, but I stepped in front of the door, blocking the way out. I shouted at them loudly, “I am your friend––the prince! I’m the same man on the inside…the same one you’ve loved for years! I’ve been put under a spell. One of you can save me––just give me a chance!”

  “You are the face of nightmares!” The mayor shouted.

  My closest friend, Pierre, said, “You are the evil incarnate!”

  Though it was the redhead, blond, and brunette I spanked, who hurt my ego the most. “You are the ugliest creature on Earth!” they summed up. “Let us go!”

  The crowd began shouting, “Free us, Beast!”

  A painful shock to my heart, I’d become the one thing I feared the most. I became unwanted. Hurt soon turned to fury. “Shut up!” I shouted in deep anger.

  They continued, “Free us, Beast!”

  My inner fire only increased more. Suddenly, I let forth the most monstrous sound known to any ear. ROAR! Every mouth opened, yet went silent. I could only describe the sound as a lion, tiger, and a bear combined. I growled, realizing I was flashing my teeth like a dog.

  “He’ll eat us! We must fight our way out! Then––I’ll put his head in the guillotine!” The mayor shouted.

  The guests began hurling wine and brandy glasses at me. A few hit my hairy, leathery skin. I was too enraged to feel a thing. Soon, I lost my mind, tapping into instinct itself. I’d always had a killer instinct about me, though not a physical one. I was about to find out much had changed.

  Letting forth another ROAR, I attacked the crowd. Each of them ran from me, though my arm length and height had grown to catch them all. I snagged an arm-full of the fake friends. In one snapping squeeze, I broke every one of their necks.

  I marveled at my power, delivering vengeance so easily. My rage demanded to be fed more. I craved an end to their screams and freakish gazes. The hate feels good. Revenge will save me from this curse. Though nothing will save these fair-weathered fakes from the cost of mocking their prince!

  “Die!” I yelled, slitting a female throat with my fingernail. Grabbing another guest, I flung him upward into the ceiling. I began to crave their destruction––their demise––THEIR DEATHS!

  Devouring each living enemy, I came to the final four. It was the redhead, blond, and brunette. I saved the girls for last. The fourth was the mayor, who tried to run for the door.

  “Stop him!” I shouted to my staff. To my surprise, in walked a coat of armor, holding an axe.

  “Shall I take his head, Prince?” the knight asked.

  “You’re my––palace guard? She turned you into…a coat of arms?”

  “I am, Prince,” he answered.

  The mayor turned back towards me, dropping to his knees in front of my beastly body. “Beast––I mean, Prince Adam…spare me. I will see that the town embraces you––as our mascot.”

  His words threw fuel on my inner fire. “Like a freak––so people can stare at the animal…mock me like you all did.”

  “No! No, Monsieur. I didn’t mean––” CRUNCH! My sharp teeth bit into his skull. The woman behind me screamed as I spit out his brain in disgust. Good thing my tastes didn’t change, human meat is shit!

  Turning towards the three girls, they trembled in fear before me. Like the mayor, they dropped to their knees. However, their proposition was a different one. “Prince––let us pleasure you…let us blow you…let us fuck you! We’ll serve you in every way possible!”

  I must say…their offer tempted me. “Get to work!”

  Crawling towards me, they each went for my cock. Their tongues licked and sucked at it. I felt it grow to an astounding 12-inches. Their faces cringed. Such hatred and anger filled me; I slammed their three heads together like pendulums, and they burst into a bloody mess.

  There I stood, all alone. Gazing around the room, reality suddenly struck me. Oh fuck…I killed them all. All the town’s elders, everyone who mattered…murdered…by my hands. Looking down at my paws, blood stained them. Bits of skin remained on my sharpened claws. Stolen life dripped from my fangs and jowls.

  I looked around the room, bodies were torn apart. It’s truly a Crimson Room now, I thought. I began to laugh. It was clear my pride hadn’t died yet. Arrogance still fueled a selfish attitude. I really believed I could shake the curse easily, though the beast inside still roared.

  Cogsworth slid into the room. “Master, should I gather the staff to clean up this bloody mess?”

  A dark smile crossed my beastly face. “This isn’t called the Crimson Room of Pain for nothing. Leave it exactly as is. No enchantress, or anyone else can take me down! Everyone––get out.”

  I exited the room last, shutting the doors behind me, retiring to my bedroom as if it were simply a normal night. Though for the next twenty years, life would be anything but normal.

  In fact, for my entire staff and I, life would be a dark and lonely place.

  Twenty Years Later

  Belle

  They called me odd. Maybe I was. I mean, while most girls liked to socialize at parties, acting as marriage bait, I preferred to wed a good book. It’s not like I couldn’t get boys my age. I was twenty-one, red hair, curvy boobs, big booty, and green eyes. Men looked at me, I just didn’t look back.

  No, I wasn’t a carpet-muncher. I just didn’t care to fall prey to a broken heart. I’d seen enough real boyfriends in real life to know they sucked. Book boyfriends were perfect, required less fuss. In reality, I needed a nerd like myself. Sadly, they didn’t seem to exist in this small town. People spent more time talking about me, than to me.

  I craved crisp paperbacks l
ike an addict seeking her next fix. Though my little secret––the more naughty sex, the more I ate it up. Even as I walked around town, I read. The rumors were that I was a book whore; a label I was proud to wear.

  “Hello Belle,” the librarian said, pointing to his collection.

  “Hi Rodan, I think I’ve read them all.”

  “Got a few new ones in…true classics.”

  Oh yeah? Do you have any spanking books? I wanted to ask. How about any forced fantasy taboo types? Of course, I didn’t dare do so. It would’ve given the old man a heart attack. Instead, I browsed his offerings. Shakespeare is almost as fucked up as porn mag. “Macbeth––isn’t that the one where––”

  Rodan’s eyes grew large with excitement, “Mother and son––”

  “I’ll take it,” I said in curiosity. Tucking it in my book bag, I said, “I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

  He winked, “Take your time with it.”

  Waving goodbye, I said, “Oh I’ll devour every single word––twice.” I exited, knowing my quick reading skill would have me shredding it in a moment’s time.

  Heading home to papa, I entered the door. The man was a genius, well, at least in my eyes. “Papa!” I shouted, kissing his stubbled cheek. His gray hair was wiry and uncombed. All clothes were un-ironed, always untucked. I tried to help groom him after mother passed, though it’s not like he listened to her either.

  He spoke in breathlessness. “My Belle! You must see my new invention I’ve made for the Paris festival!”

  The word Paris commanded all my attention. “Papa, that is so far away. Are you really in the state of mind––to take such a journey by yourself? I mean, I’d go with you, but I’m as direction dizzy as you are.”

  Brushing me off with his wrinkled hand, he said, “Don’t be ridiculous! I build machines…build the future––I can handle a horse drawn carriage!”

  My chest tightened in worry. However, I nodded, “Ok, Papa.”

  He flung inventions around, trying to find something. I grabbed a discarded handheld piece of black glass. I pressed a button on the bottom. The screen lit up, showing a menu of digital books. “Wow…a portable machine with electric books! I think I’m going to wet myself!”

  Grabbing it from me, he tossed it into the fire. “Ah…that’ll never catch on. It was as good an idea as kindling for a fire.”

  “Whatever,” I said in polite disagreement.

  Fully cleared off, he plugged in a large machine. Flipping all kinds of switches, blinking and blipping lights went nuts, flashing in my eyes. Then he lifted a large, strange looking gun of some sort. It had a long barrel with a round cage encasing it. It buzzed, vibrating his entire body.

  “Stand back!” he warned, his voice shaking like quaking earth. I obeyed. That’s when a blue laser blasted deadly light from its tip. Half his shop caught fire, and everything melted into pure liquid.

  A spark erupted from it, knocking papa to the ground. I ran to him, “Are you ok, Papa?”

  “Fire…put it out!”

  I grabbed his nearby water hose, turning it on. A stream of water quickly snuffed out the flames. The smell of burned plastic choked us out. I helped papa up and we rushed outside. “That was––pretty badass, I must say,” I told him, our faces covered in hot soot. “But––I still worry about you getting to Paris safely. You know the woods can be a bad place. The wolves…the…beasts.”

  “Oh, that’s just legend, child.”

  “The people who speak of it certainly seem to believe the story. Their family members, most of the townsfolk, disappeared twenty years ago. No one knows where they went. You know what they say ate them––”

  “Yeah, sure…they were eaten by some beastly prince––all fairy tale crap. Our king covered it up for his brother…conspiracy…all BS!”

  “It was no fairy tale…they end happily. This tale ends with death. Don’t tempt dark forces, Papa. One wrong turn in those dark woods and––”

  “I will be fine,” he said, kissing my head. “Now, I need to go change my underpants. That blast literally knocked the crap out of me.”

  I cringed, watching him limp back into the smoky shop. I had a bad feeling, though like me, the man had a mind of his own.

  Gaston

  “I’m too fucking sexy for this mirror!” I declared, gazing at my reflected naked body. Yes, I truly was sexy. Shit, I still am sexy. Running a hand over my hard, naked abs, I slid around to grab my own muscular ass cheek. I flicked my ass, ensuring it didn't sink in. That would mean an ounce of flab had formed. I didn’t, nor would I associate with such people, except for my do-boy Lefou.

  The truth is, my abs were just a small part of my glorious-self. Whether up or down, the gift of maleness awaited. My hand rose toward hard pecks, continuing to my stubbled chin.

  Passing a softly shaped nose and plucked eyebrows, I ran fingers through slicked dark hair. Dropping back downward, I molested my strong legs, perfectly shaped feet, returning up to a cock finale of 8-inches. Oh what a masterpiece! Van Gogh would’ve sliced his second ear just for a glimpse at such masculine perfection.

  I stayed in front of the reflected glass for a good 3 hours. While some took up hobbies of sports or games, my time was spent obsessing over a gift to all women and men alike. I thought, Step aside, Charlemagne, I am a French god.

  Getting dressed, I headed out to receive my daily praise. “Hi Gaston,” a blond said, batting her eyelashes at me. I ignored her.

  “Gaston is so good looking!” three girls whispered to themselves. That time, I acknowledged them with an agreeable nod.

  Then came the boys. “I wanna be like you, Gaston!” a rather ugly guy said.

  “Keep wishing,” I responded to the laughter of others, and the shame of himself.

  My doormat, Lefou, tagged behind me. The short, funny-looking, jacked-teeth dweeb would’ve never been someone I associated with. Though, not only did he make me feel even hotter than I already felt, but he did anything I demanded. Therefore, he was a mere accessory to my dirty work.

  He trailed behind me, “Gaston, my best friend in the whole world––”

  “Hello doormat,” I said with sickness in my voice.

  Lefou laughed so obnoxiously loud, it was a clear cover-up for his hurt. I enjoyed such power. “Thank you, Gaston––for granting me a nickname. “I am doormat!” he announced with pride.

  I told him, “You know my company comes with a price.”

  “Name it, Gaston…and I will gladly pay anything.”

  “When the time’s right,” I said. I walked around town for a while, basically circling the center square, where the most eyes were. Soaking in praise like the sun, I enjoyed every moment.

  Lefou said, “I hope these girls and boys know how lucky they are just to look at your…well––everything, Gaston.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to shut the fuck up, Lefou? You’re interrupting my me time.”

  He whispered, “I’m extra sorry, Gaston. You can kick my ass later.”

  “You’d like that too much,” I said, laughing.

  He quickly followed my cue, laughing along with me like a pathetic parrot. “I would like it––so much.”

  “You’re a creep,” I shouted at him. He went silent.

  After taking another long lap around the town square, I paused in fury. A trailing Lefou banged into me from behind. “I’m sorry, Gaston. I can rub your behind for you…if you’re hurt.”

  “Fuck off,” I said, staring at my target of frustration.

  “Where would you like me to fuck off to?” he asked.

  Ignoring his idiocy, I said, “Tell me something.”

  “Anything, Gaston.”

  “That weird girl––I see her daily. She’s the only one who doesn’t look at me.”

  “Ah…that would be Ms. Belle.”

  “I didn’t ask her fucking name.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I
wanna know why she prefers a useless fucking book…to a glimpse of the one and only––Gaston.”

  Lefou spun a finger around the side of his head, insinuating insanity. “Cuz she’s weird. Not like you and me.”

  I said in a disgusted tone, “We’re nothing alike, you flea.”

  “Very true, Gaston. I am poop compared to you.”

  “That’s putting it nicely.”

  He laughed, “So true, so true!”

  “Stay here while I approach her. I don’t want your stink to be mistaken for my pleasing manly scent.”

  “A lucky girl she is, Gaston.”

  I walked over to the book-reading rebel. The other town voyeurs shed tears, jealous of my addressing her. I’d never bothered to engage any of them. “What book is that?”

  She answered without even diverting her eyes from the book. “Macbeth.”

  “About an apple?”

  “Uh…no. It’s about––”

  “Anyway, I’m here to inform you…that I…Gaston––choose you to be my wife.”

  The book finally slipped down from her line of sight. “And you are?”

  “Did you not hear me? I am Gaston––the Great! You’ve heard of me, I’m sure.”

  “I guess the whole wife part…eclipsed the name bit. To be honest, I’ve not heard of you––or seen you before. And you want to marry a complete stranger?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And they call me nuts,” I examined the irony.

  “Well, marry me…and they won’t call you that. You see all these crying women around? For the first time in your life somebody actually wants to be you. So, say yes.”

  “I think I’ve just been insulted. Is that how you get all your women?”

  “Look, I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. These women would toss themselves off bridge, trade their first-born––to be my wife. And I chose you. Show some gratitude, will you?”

  “Can I ask you why you want to marry––me? I mean, unless you’re into the bookish, nerdy type…which I highly doubt.”

  “No, but that can be changed. I see potential behind the nerd––shed some pounds, change your hairstyle, new wardrobe, ditch the books––”