Taming the Beast

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Taming the Beast Page 3

by Evangeline Anderson


  master.” She led Gisella into the bathroom and helped her undress and get into the steaming golden tub.

  Gisella was reluctant to part from her clothes in front of another person, even a woman, but the servant who was tending her was so no-nonsense about the whole thing she felt like she had no choice. Once in the hot, floral-scented water, all her reluctance disappeared as the soothing warmth soaked into her tired bones. But she hadn’t been relaxing for more than five minutes before the servant’s voice interrupted her solitude.

  “And now it’s time to get you shaved.”

  “Shaved?” Gisella sat up in the tub, giving the woman an apprehensive look. “What do you mean?”

  “Why your nether regions, my dear. You must be in fit shape to see the master.”

  Gisella looked down at the soft blonde curls on her mound that swirled gently in the warm water. “Your master demands that I be shaved before he’ll even see me?”

  “It is his preference, yes.” The woman held a tiny light razor in her hand. “Do you want to do it or will I?”

  Gisella didn’t even have to think about that. “I’ll do it.” She turned her back modestly, glad that the razor was the type she could use under the water. “So is your master such a monster that he won’t see a woman unless she’s perfectly prepared?” She waited for a reply but when none came she turned to face the servant once more. To her surprised, the woman’s round, matronly face was pale and her lips trembled. “Are you all right?” Gisella asked with concern. Perhaps the servant was having some kind of attack. She thought of calling for help and then shuddered at the idea of the room filling with strangers while she sat naked in the bath. But if she had to…

  “I… Forgive me, my lady,” the servant said at last, recovering herself, which was no small relief to Gisella. “It’s just…my master is not a monster. Not really, you know. He is most kind and very generous and…and he cannot help his situation.”

  Gisella felt a shiver go through her. “What situation is that?” she asked but the woman only shook her head.

  “We are taking too long, my lady. Come, there is no time for idle chatter—you must be dressed and in my master’s chambers in one half an hour.” She seemed brisk and businesslike again as she helped Gisella out of the tub and wrapped her in a thick, fluffy towel but the doubt and fear lingered in the back of Gisella’s mind nonetheless. What exactly was going on here at the palace of Rigel Nine?

  She didn’t have time to wonder long because the servant led her back into the bedchamber and presented her with the clothes she was to wear.

  “Do you really expect me to put these on?” Gisella eyed the flimsy, see-through outfit on the bed incredulously.

  The servant frowned. “You must wear what is laid out for you in order to meet the master. Should I help you put them on?”

  Gisella read the determined look in the woman’s eyes and knew she meant she would put the outfit on by force if necessary. “No, no,” she said hastily. “I will wear what is necessary. But…” She hesitated delicately. “Could I not have some privacy?”

  The servant let out a hmmph, but she turned and left the room. “No more than ten minutes, mind you,” she said as she shut the richly carved wooden door behind her. “The master will be expecting you before the twin moons rise.”

  Gisella didn’t see what moonrise had to do with the matter but there was no time to ask. Shedding the fluffy towel she’d been wrapped in, she put on the top of the outfit first. It was a thin, gauzy silk blouse and the material was both exceedingly tight and exceedingly soft. Through it she could plainly see her ripe nipples, hardened by fear and desire. She looked around but there was no undergarment to wear beneath it and hide her from exposure. Well, obviously this was how the master wanted her to be presented. Gisella went on to the bottom of the outfit.

  To cover her sex there was a tiny pair of what she supposed were meant to be panties. But truly they covered almost nothing. A tiny silken triangle was attached to

  several silk strings but when she put the panties on, Gisella found she had to chose between covering the mound of her pussy or the tender lips as it was not big enough to cover both. She tried to compromise and cover a little of each and wound up with the triangle placed so that just the top of her pussy mound and slit were exposed and most of her soft outer lips were covered. Still, the string at the bottom of the triangle kept slipping into her sex and rubbing her inner folds until she thought she would go mad. Wearing something that seemed made to stimulate her heated clit was going to ensure that her inner thighs would be wet with cunt honey long before she met the mysterious master face-to-face. She wondered if that was what he wanted—to see her aroused, so hot with need she was unable to help herself. Well, she supposed she might ask him when she saw him—if she dared.

  Turning her attention to the rest of the outfit, Gisella pulled on the silky skirt that floated around her like a cloud. Its high slit came almost to the bottom of her navel, showcasing rather than hiding the tiny panties that continued to rub her tender cunt. A soft pair of slippers completed the outfit.

  She observed herself in the long looking glass that was hanging on the opposite wall and blushed. Never had she imagined herself in such an outfit. She ought to be at the Temple of Light right now, having her hair cut off as a sacrifice to the Goddess and putting on the long, white modest robe that covered her from neck to ankles. Instead she was dressed as the worst kind of whore, about to sell her virginity to a mysterious man she had never met. And yet a part of her, the part that had never really wanted to go to the temple in the first place, was just a tiny bit excited.

  What would her new master look like? Would he be tall with dark hair and piercing eyes like the man she had seen on the porn vids? Would he demand she abase herself and kneel before him to take his cock in her mouth? And then how would he take her? From behind like a beast? Or would he demand that she mount him and ride with his cock filling her pussy? Just thinking of such things made her cunt feel hot and swollen

  with need. But before she could get too carried away, a sharp rap on the door let her know it was time to go. Time to meet her new master.

  Gisella left the safety of her bedchamber hesitantly, uncertain of what the servant waiting for her would say. But the woman only looked her up and down and nodded in obvious approval.

  “Very good, my lady. And now it is time to go.” She led Gisella through the palace proper which consisted of many large rooms filled with rich furniture and beautiful works of art. Thick tapestries that must have taken many hands years to weave adorned the walls and the marble floors. Erotic paintings of men and women entwined with looks of ecstasy on their faces hung everywhere. Clearly whoever lived here enjoyed the finer things in life and worshiped the pleasures of the flesh. Pleasures Gisella had never experienced. But I am about to, she reminded herself, trying to keep her knees from quivering as they walked. I only hope I will please this master, whoever he is.

  At last the servant opened a huge wooden door bound with iron and motioned to a set of stone steps that led down into the dark. “Here I must leave you, my lady,” she said, nodding for Gisella to take the steps alone. “For I dare go no farther.”

  “But why?” Gisella looked at her fearfully, uncertain as to what she should do. “Will the master be angry if you accompany me?” she asked, hesitantly stepping down the first step and turning to look back.

  “It is forbidden,” the woman said without answering her question. “You must go alone. Continue down until you reach the bottom and there in the dungeon you will find your destiny.”

  “The dungeon?” Gisella could feel fear welling up in her now but she tried to control it by taking deep breaths.

  “Goodbye and good luck, my dear.” The woman gave her a look that was both compassionate and stern then shut the door in Gisella’s face, leaving her in semidarkness.

  Gisella stood there for a moment, trying to stop the scream that wanted to rise in her throat. Her first impulse wa
s to bang on the door and demand to be let out but plainly that wasn’t going to help anything. No, there was nothing she could do but go on down the long flight of stairs and see what awaited her at the bottom.

  And so she descended and found herself in the large, drafty dungeon. It was only after she saw the immense bed and the pile of human bones that a voice reached her.

  A voice that said, “So you’re the latest victim. Welcome to the lair of the beast, my lady.”

  Startled, Gisella turned quickly to see who was speaking. She had barely had time to explore the strange and ominous dungeon and now she found she was not alone.

  Lost in the shadows was the dim figure of a man. But not just any man—he was the most massive creature Gisella had ever seen. Towering over her, wearing only a ragged pair of black breeches, he was a solid wall of muscle. One of his thighs was as thick as her slender waist and his shoulders were fully twice as broad as her own. Indeed, Gisella would have been quite afraid of him if he had not been chained to the dungeon wall.

  “I am Gisella.” She took a small step toward him, nervously measuring the chains that bound him with her eyes. They were as thick as her wrist but the man was so massive they looked like mere strings attached to his huge limbs. He had thick black hair pushed back from a high forehead and his dark eyes gleamed in the torchlight. Around his bulging biceps were thick, curving black lines that Gisella at first took for a second set of manacles. But when she looked more closely she could see that they were markings of some kind, apparently drawn on his skin with permanent ink. When he moved his head to look at her, she saw that he had the same black lines drawn in bands across his temples. They curved forward like horns, ending in sharp points on his high forehead.

  “I see they dressed you for the occasion.” His deep voice rumbled up from the massive chest and Gisella felt her cheeks heating in a dull blush. She crossed her arms

  over her breasts self-consciously, hoping he couldn’t see how very close she was to being naked in the dim light.

  The split skirt and see-through blouse were a far cry from what she had expected to be wearing at this time—the long, white robe of the convent that covered everything from neck to ankles. But considering the unbending attitude of the servant who had led her here, she had been obliged to put it on or go naked into the dungeon, an unthinkable idea no matter what her ultimate purpose was.

  “They…the servants seemed to think it necessary,” she murmured. She was beginning to get a very bad feeling about her situation. A feeling that she should have stayed on her home planet of Beta Six. No matter how grim her future at Fat Sam’s had looked, it hadn’t involved a dungeon and a pile of bones. But she was here now and there was no turning back.

  Clearing her throat, she took another step toward the bound, muscular man and looked him in the eye. “Are…are you a prisoner? A prisoner of the beast you spoke of?” she asked him, searching his dark eyes for some clue to his identity since he made no effort to introduce himself. “I was told I would find a man here,” she continued in a high, breathless voice. “A man I was to…to service.” The words stuck in her throat and she had to force them out. It was difficult to admit even to herself what she was here in the dungeon to do, much less voice it aloud to a stranger.

  “That’s a nice way of saying it.” He laughed, a deep rumble that was tinged with bitterness. “Yes, my lady, I am a prisoner here. A prisoner of my own dark lusts. A prisoner of the curse laid on me five long years ago.”

  “Lusts?” Gisella knew she ought to ask about the curse but that wasn’t the word that caught her attention.

  “Indeed.” He laughed harshly again and the chains that bound him to the wall rattled and clanked against the dank stone.

  Gisella was used to the dim lighting now and for some reason she found her eyes drawn to the ragged black breeches the chained man wore. She bit back a gasp when

  she saw the thick bulge rising from between his muscular thighs, straining at the dark fabric that covered it. Was that…dear Goddess in heaven, was that his cock? Gisella had never seen a real one although she had seen plenty on the forbidden porn vids she’d watched. But nothing she had seen could compare with the massive shaft between the prisoner’s legs. It was thicker than her wrist and the top of it jutted from the frayed waist of the breeches and reached nearly to his navel. The purple, plum-shaped head throbbed against the flat planes of his abdomen and there was a pearly drop of pre-cum beading the slit.

  Goddess. Gisella felt her mouth go dry as she took another step forward, her eyes frozen to the sight in front of her. This close to the prisoner, she could smell his musk—a deep scent like leather, exotic spices and salty cum. The scent of a man in need. It seemed to invade all her senses at once and make her lose all reason. She had the strangest urge to reach out and touch him, to hold that thick length in the palm of her hand and test its texture, to finally know what a real live cock really felt like… But he was a perfect stranger, she couldn’t possible do such a thing.

  “Like what you see?” His deep voice was mocking. “You must forgive my state of arousal but seeing your firm breasts and the sweet slit of your sex so displayed makes it difficult to control my reactions.”

  Cheeks flaming, Gisella forced her eyes away from the erotic sight between his thighs and back up to his dark face. “T-tell me about your curse,” she stuttered, not sure what else to say. “Why are you chained to the wall in this dark and awful place?”

  “I will tell you anything you want to know, if only you will give me a little relief.” He nodded down at the huge shaft jutting out from the top of his breeches and shifted uncomfortably. “They have me chained here so that I cannot help myself and as you can see, I am in dire need of assistance.” His words were bitter and sarcastic, as though he didn’t really expect her help but to her surprise, Gisella found herself really considering his request.

  She looked again at the angry throbbing cock still leaking pre-cum against his flat belly and it came to her suddenly that he was in pain—almost in agony. Compassion flooded through her as well as the strange compulsion to touch him again. He was so big and strong and yet some cruel person had left him chained here, perhaps as an offering to the beast he had spoken of. He had named himself a prisoner of his lusts and yet he was helpless to slake them. And he did look a little like the man of her dreams, although she had never pictured her dream man as being quite so large and imposing.

  “I…I will try to help you,” she said hesitantly, stepping closer to him. “Although I may not be very good at it. I have never…” She shook her head, unable to finish. Clearly the dark-haired man needed actions, not words. Feeling a strange tingle of excitement, she leaned forward and unbuttoned the tight black breeches, freeing the length of his rigid shaft.

  For a moment she stood staring, not sure how to begin. She was close enough to feel the heat of the prisoner’s huge body radiating against her own and his dark, musky scent was still filling her head, but there was no sense standing there staring. Boldly she reached forward and cupped his length in the palm of her hand.

  “Gods!” the prisoner groaned deep in his throat. His hips shifted forward, pressing the hard shaft against her hand with an urgency that spoke of his need.

  Gisella stroked him wonderingly, amazed at finally feeling something that she had only fantasized about for so long. He was hot and throbbing in her hand and yet the texture of his skin was as soft as rose petals. It was like holding a bar of heated iron draped in velvet that pulsed with the beat of his heart. Experimentally she tried to wrap her small, cool fingers all the way around it and found she could not—he was too thick. She caressed the long shaft as well as she could and felt a strange thrill of power run up her spine at the groans and curses she drew from his full lips with each stroke.

  Unbidden, an image formed in her mind. What would it be like to have this huge cock not in her hands, but filling her pussy? Gisella had no idea how he would fit it into her virginal tightness but the idea of
him spreading her legs and pressing the long,

  thick, throbbing pole of flesh into her tight cunt wouldn’t leave her brain. Would she enjoy it, as the women in the porn vids seemed to? Or would it hurt when he breached her barrier and rammed his entire thick length home inside her pussy? Would he want to stay inside her when he came and if so, would she be able to feel him coming, pulsing inside her as he filled her cunt with his cum?

  “Gods! I’m close…so close,” he gasped, bringing her back from the vivid fantasy she had been indulging in. Looking down, Gisella saw that the bead of pre-cum at the tip of his cock had become a river running over his flat belly. It was shiny and slick in the dim light of the torches and for some reason she found herself wanting to taste it.

  Do I dare? Gisella had seen the act performed quite often in the porn vids and yet she had never dreamed of performing it herself. Honestly, she had never thought she would want to. But there was something about the helplessness of the chained man and the power she felt when she stroked him that made her long for more. After all, she had come to him dressed in an outfit that clearly displayed her tight nipples and the slit of her pussy and made his need worse. Did she not owe it to him, though he was a stranger, to help him in any way she could?

  Without letting herself stop to think about it, Gisella dropped to her knees before him. Heedless of the hard, cold stone against her flesh she pressed forward, rubbing the aching length of his thick cock against her cheek. His musk was stronger here, an intoxicating mix of leather and spice that made her feel drunk with need. She could feel her nipples throbbing in sympathy with his desire and between her legs the tiny scrap of silk that served as her panties was soaked with her juices. Why the idea of tasting this man, of sucking him, should make her so aroused was a question Gisella couldn’t answer. She only knew that she wanted to help him, wanted to pleasure him until she saw the hot cum spurt from the tip of his cock.

 

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