Beauty Submits To Her Beast Page 2
“Sex. Slave.” A hum of desire swam through her bloodstream like an alligator sliding into the river to hunt prey. Since signing up for the event, she’d had lots of fantasies of her dream hunk driving her wild and giving her one orgasm after another. An arrow of lust set off the throbbing deep in her center. Damn, she was wet just thinking about it.
The door to the lounge opened. A woman in a black uniform with a white apron poked her head inside. “Hey, you’d better get in there with the others.”
Caitie whirled around, relieved to see her friend. “Good God, Maize,” she said. “I must have been crazy to let you talk me into this? I don’t know anything about this BDSM stuff. Or being submissive.”
Not beyond what she’d researched on-line. She pressed her fist into her stomach to still the sick, panicking feeling welling up inside. “I’ve never even read Fifty Shades of Grey.” But listening to her friend go on and on about how wonderful it was to hand over control to a man and get pleasured in returned made her long to experience what Maize referred to as the incredible and never-ending weekend of orgasms.
Maize flounced into the room, her short, black skirt bouncing. “You’ll love it, Caitie. Give your Dom a chance. Just think about the wild and kinky sex and lots and lots of delicious orgasms.”
Pacing, Caitie chewed her lower lip. “It’s the kinky sex I’m worried about.” She whirled around. “I don’t know this guy, not even his name.”
The maid grinned. “Identities are protected. That’s why everyone wears masks.”
“You’re not wearing a mask.”
She giggled. “That’s ’cause I’m part of the staff.”
Caitie narrowed her eyes, stepped back, and crossed her arms, then groaned when one breast popped out of her top. She adjusted the neckline. “Why aren’t you participating if this is so much fun?”
Maize preened in front of the mirror. “Who said I’m not?” She wagged her brows. “Have you any idea what pleasures that butler can give an innocent maid in the pantry, girlfriend?”
She held up her hand. “Don’t tell me. Don’t need to know.”
“Come on. You best join the others.”
With one last glance in the mirror, Caitie followed Maize to a formal parlor.
“Have fun, Belle.” Her friend closed the door behind her.
Chapter Two
Caitie clasped her hands in front of her, pressing her fists into her stomach to still the nervous fluttering. She had a choice. Stick with the plan or run like hell. She took stock of her surroundings. She’d never seen such a richly appointed room. Everything sparkled or glittered. Antiques, gilt frames, and even a baby grand in the corner all spoke of wealth. Tall windows along one wall let in light and kept the room from being dark and oppressive. A pair of French doors stood open to allow the warm, afternoon breeze to enter.
It took her a moment to realize guys were on one side of the room and the women on the other. No mingling. Her gaze swept over the men, and damn, if her temperature didn’t spike at the sight of so many hunky bodies on display. Some of them were covered from neck to shoes in rich, velveteen tunics and pants and appeared quite princely and commanding while others were attired in very little. She stared at a man wearing in a wolfish mask. Her eyes lowered. He wore a form-fitting leather glove over his huge dick. She barely swallowed her gasp of shock but couldn’t stop her face from burning with embarrassment.
OMG. That was one prime hunk. Was he her beast? She could get on board having him for the next few days, but then she noticed his attention was wholly focused on a woman in a red dress and cape. Okay, Red and her Wolf. She got that.
She continued her perusal of the weekend’s offerings. At the end of the line, three men huddled together. Like a moth drawn to a dangerous flame, she eyed the first who stood with his back to her. Her gaze slid down to his naked, white-as-snow ass. Oh, ick. His ass sagged, reminding her of an overinflated balloon that had lost its air. She resisted the urge to slap her hands over her eyes. Barely.
The second had a nice butt. He turned toward her. He wore a furry mask, a studded collar, and leather straps that formed a harness over his pale chest. He was rail thin, had the start of a potbelly, and oh, sweet Jesus, just a bit of cloth to hide his crotch. He grinned at her. She nearly screamed and ran from the room like a frightened schoolgirl. The third wasn’t bad. He had a nice bum, at least, but was way too hairy for her.
God, not him. Please not him or the other two with him. If I have to have sex with a stranger, please let him be a man in good, physical shape.
“You’re new, aren’t you?”
So engrossed, or rather, so grossed out, Caitie hadn’t heard the woman approach. She smiled. “How can you tell?” Her voice sounded high and choked.
Her companion laughed, grabbed her arm, and then led her to the other end of the room. “I’m Rapunzel. Come join us.” She leaned close. “We’re feasting on the men from down here. Well, some of them.”
Appreciating the humor, Caitie eyed the woman’s long, blonde hair. It fell like a sheet of molten gold past her butt. She smiled. “They going to lock you in one of those turrets?”
“I sure hope so.” She indicated a woman in a silky, sexy white nightgown. “This is Wendy.”
“Ah, your partner is Peter Pan.”
“Nope. Captain Hook.” She tossed her dark, blonde head and jerked her chin toward a man wearing an elaborate eye patch that masked half his face.
Caitie let out a low sound of appreciation. “He does look like a strong seafaring captain.” The man’s shoulders were broad, his waist narrow. He wore a leather vest that hung open and leather pants and boots. He had a magnificent chest. Aware of the women staring at him, he shoved his hands onto his hips and planted his feet apart.
“Don’t see his hook,” she whispered.
Wendy giggled. “Not looking in the right spot. Lower, sweetie. All he has to do is whip that bad boy out, and he’s hooked me.”
The women laughed. Rapunzel nudged the other woman in their group. “This is Goldilocks. Goldie here is going to have fun with her three bears.”
“Three? At once?” Caitie blushed when everyone laughed at her shocked expression.
“Hell, yes.” The mask didn’t hide the gleam in her eyes.
“Definitely a newbie,” a dry voice inserted.
Caitie glanced at the newcomer and met the amused gaze of a woman wearing a black mask and skimpy, black bustier. The woman swished her riding crop against her black stockings and lifted a brow.
“Evil Fairy from Sleeping Beauty,” the woman in black introduced herself.
Rapunzel grinned and leaned close. “She’s a Domme. She’s going to be doing the spanking this weekend.”
“Spanking?” Caitie’s voice rose to a squeak. No one said anything about spankings. She eyed the crop. Or whips.
“And a whole lot of riding.” The evil fairy smiled fiercely.
The women around Caitie chuckled. She gave a weak smile. Maize had some explaining to do. In the meantime, she’d make it clear to her partner that there would be no pain. None. Zip. Zero.
The Domme ran the tip of her riding crop across the tops of Caitie’s breasts. “And you are…Sleeping Beauty?”
“No. Belle.”
“Ah.” The evil fairy scanned the men. “Don’t see your beast.”
“There is that wickedly delicious wolf there.” Rapunzel licked her lips.
“I believe he has his little playmate already.” The evil fairy indicated the woman in the red satin cloak.
Once again, Caitie tried to guess which of the deliciously sexy men was hers as she listened to the banter of the women. As more people joined the participants, Caitie and the others made a game of guessing what role each would play and which hunk belonged to which woman.
She’d pegged Red Riding Hood and Cinderella. And blushed when Mary and Little Bo Peep entered. If she thought her costume revealing, Bo’s skirt was nonexistent in the back and she wore only a red thong.
And what a relief that the two women boldly claimed the three men huddled together like a flock of sheep. Caitie thanked the gods that they were taken out of the running.
She scanned the room again and noted that people were getting restless. Anticipation and lust filled the air. “What are we waiting for?”
“For the queen, of course,” Rapunzel said.
At that moment, the doors opened and the butler stepped inside to announce, “Queen Grimhilde.”
A tall woman entered. Her black corset pushed her breasts up and out, and a sheer, lacy skirt with red accents barely covered her crotch in front. Four men in skintight leather followed. Each wore a full mask. Silence fell. Caitie recognized Glorie Amadori. Everything about her screamed Domme, and she admitted to finding Glorie a very scary Domme at that.
“Good afternoon, my lovely subjects. I'm Queen Grimhilde, Snow White's evil stepmother, and as I survey all of you gathered in this room, I declare that I am still the fairest in all the land.”
Caitie laughed, and her nerves settled as the hostess gave out instructions. Everyone seemed friendly, at ease, and eager to begin. She slid her gaze along the line of women. Well, except for Cinderella. She seemed nervous, and Caitie had the feeling she was as new to this as she was.
“You will each be shown to your quarters for the weekend. Please respect your boundaries. Other couples are also sharing the mansion and grounds. My guards will be on the prowl if anyone has any problems or questions. If you leave the privacy of your rooms or cottages, make sure you wear your masks. We’ll meet as a group in the ballroom Saturday evening for the ball. Until then, remember: Safe, sane, and consensual.”
The Queen called couples and sent them on their way. The wolf claimed Red, Cinderella was taken away by one of the guards, as was Snow White, after the queen taunted her dearest stepdaughter. Captain Hook swept Wendy off her feet. Caitie laughed with the others and relaxed. Okay, this was going to be fun.
When her name was called, Rapunzel stepped forward. A prince stepped forward as well and was ordered to take his sub to the tower and keep her there until she learned her place. He did so by throwing Rapunzel over his shoulder.
Caitie’s jaw dropped when the Dom ran his hands over the woman’s bared ass. Her face burned with embarrassment. Some guy did that to her in public, he wouldn’t be walking for a week.
“Belle.”
Caitie squared her shoulders and stepped forward, tilting her chin, calling upon a control that had even the toughest horse wrangler on her ranch ready to run if she even mouthed the word.
“Kneel before your queen.”
Keeping her features schooled, Caitie knelt, as Red had knelt before the wolf.
“Head down and hands behind your back, sub.”
This was part of the game, part of the role she was to play, so she did as commanded and submitted to the queen.
“Very good. You understand that for the next three days you are under the obligation to do whatever your Dom orders?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Caitlin drew in a deep breath. How bad did she want a weekend of wild sex and a smorgasbord of orgasms? Enough to answer meekly, “Yes, Mistress.”
“You were given instructions on using safewords. Do you understand what a safeword is and how to use it?”
“The safeword is red. It is used to stop all play.”
“Correct. Play stops to allow you and your Dom to discuss your fears or concerns. The guards are monitors, and it’s their task to assist if there are problems. You’ll be escorted to your cell where your Beast awaits. Are you ready for the games to begin?”
Caitie let out her breath. “Yes, Mistress.” Good heavens. For good or bad, she was here and she was going to do this.
“You may stand, but keep your head down and hands behind you.”
It was awkward to get to her feet without revealing herself to the two men standing at attention in front of her.
The queen circled Caitlin, then slid her hands down her arms. Something soft snapped around each wrist.
Caitie’s head shot up. “Hey!” She yanked at her wrists, shocked to find herself cuffed like a common criminal. She glared at the queen. “Take them off.”
Glorie lifted one brow. “Your Dom wishes you to be bound. This is your first lesson in giving up your need to control.”
Panic ran through Caitie. Her heart raced. “I agreed to give up control for sex. I didn’t agree to this.” She’d read that bondage was part of the BDSM lifestyle, but she’d also figured she had the right to choose whether or not to be bound.
Chuckling, Glorie beckoned one of her guards to join them. “My sweet, handsome slave, what happens to subs when they are disobedient and defiant?”
“My queen, a sub who does not obey is punished.” His eyes gleamed with desire.
“Shall we demonstrate?” She ran her crop over his bare chest and trailed the tip lower, across his crotch.
“Yes, Mistress.” The man spun around, bent over, hands clasped around his ankles as he presented his ass to the queen.
Caitie gulped. Shit, he had a smooth, tanned ass and lots of dark, curly hair from his thighs, to, well, everywhere. Glorie drew a short riding crop from her belt. With a quick flick of her wrist, the whip swished through the air and struck one finely muscled cheek. A thin, red line appeared. The spit in Caitie’s mouth dried, and she widened her eyes. When the man straightened, and shifted to face them, the silky sack cupping his penis was stretched taut.
The queen ran the tip of the whip along his erection. “You, my lovely sub, liked that entirely too much.” The queen’s voice was a low tease.
The huntsman bowed his head. “Yes, Mistress. I confess. I like it when you punish me.”
Chuckling, the queen returned to Caitie. She trailed the tip of the whip across her shoulder and traced circles around each hidden nipple. “That is what happens to subs who do not show proper respect or who do not obey their Doms, so have a care. You are not my sub, therefore, you are not mine to discipline.” She feathered a finger along Caitie’s jawline. “Too bad.” Caitie was relieved until the queen added, “In that manner. But punished you must be.”
Before she could protest, the woman yanked her top down and tucked the elastic neckline beneath one full breast. “Say nothing. This is your first lesson in learning to accept dominance. Accepting my discipline shows your compliance. And respect.”
Embarrassed to have two men staring at her bare boob, Caitie lowered her gaze and swallowed hard. “I can use the safeword, right?”
The tip of the whip tapped beneath her chin. She lifted her head and met the queens amused gaze. “No. As I said, this is your first lesson. Your only choice is to accept or decide this weekend event isn’t for you and leave. From this point on, you are bound by the rules, rules you agreed to in writing. If you have changed your mind, speak now. Do you wish to stay and participate?”
Caitie’s eyes shifted to the door at the back of the room. A third Huntsman entered and joined the other two. Great, now three men were eying her bared breast. She drew in a deep breath and made her decision. She was here. She wasn’t going to chicken out. “Yes, Mistress.”
The queen nodded. “Take her to the dungeon where her Beast awaits.”
Caitie didn’t dare speak, but she couldn’t help feeling angry and humiliated as she was led down a flight of stairs and along a long, darkened corridor toward a set of double doors.
Chapter Three
What was he thinking? Damon paced in front of the fireplace and winced when his thigh tightened painfully. Stopping, he stared at the flickering pillar candles that replaced burning wood. He never took on new subs, preferring women who knew the score, but one glance at his weekend sub, and he had to have her.
For years, he’d existed, survived by going through the motions of living. He often likened himself as one of the walking dead. Everything he’d been before that last mission had been either destroyed or left behind with h
is team of men who’d lost their lives.
But something about Caitlin Olsen’s photo had sparked a tiny flame in the dark cavity of his heart, mind, and soul. Why? She was beautiful, no getting around that. He’d have to be truly dead not to appreciate her classic beauty—her large, expressive eyes, full lips, and curvy body—but he also acknowledged there was more to her than looks.
Thinking of his role for the weekend, he grimaced. In the fairytale, the Beast was an ugly, deformed man spurned by society, and Damon…he was an injured war hero hiding his beast deep inside with his dark moods.
In the movie, Belle tamed her beast with unconditional love and acceptance, and the beast overcame his curse and became a prince once again. Damon had no such expectations. He’d never been and never would be a prince.
The door to the spacious suite of rooms opened. He shifted from staring into the candle flames. His heart thumped hard as he got his first look at Caitlin Olsen in person. And what a first glance.
She held her head high as she stormed into the sitting room. Her eyes beneath her mask glittered with anger and resentment, those full, sexy lips were compressed into a flat, tight line, and she had one glorious tit exposed. Her skirt swished around her thighs, and her sheer top teased him with the dark shadow of her other breast. More than her body, it was her face that struck him speechless.
Sweet Jesus walking on water! The woman was wild, earthy, and totally unlike any sub he’d taken on. Every stiff line screamed a silent challenge, including the tipping of her chin and the glare in her sparking, golden eyes.
He deliberately lowered his gaze to her exposed tit. He sucked in his gut and swallowed hard. Talk about beauty and perfection. It took every ounce of control not to go to her and cup that perfect mound in his palm and flick his fingers across her dark, dusky nipple. His dick stirred, and suddenly, he was eager to begin his role of Dom.
Aware of her displeasure at his open admiration, he hid his grin, seeing Glorie’s hand in his sub’s exposed state. His gaze returned to her face. From the anger in her features, he’d guess she’d challenged the Queen of Dommes. And lost.