Beautiful Beast: Part 1 of 3

by Jenn Marlow

  Roland looked at her before violently grabbling at her center. His fingers found her entrance in one swift motion, and he shook his head when it entered with ease. “Not even that was a punishment?”

  Her cheeks flushed and burned with an intense humiliation.

  “Such a little whore,” he said, amused. She wanted to crawl out of her body and run away, far away from him and her arousal. She wanted no part of it. She couldn’t understand it, nor did she want to.

  “Let’s see,” Roland said. “What can I do to punish you—for real this time?”

  Alex gulped, not really knowing what was to come. “Get on the floor. On your hands and knees,” he demanded again, pointing to the dining room’s dark hardwood floor.

  But when she made way to obey him, she noticed limited mobility in her movements and realized that her trousers were still around her ankles. He had haphazardly pulled them down to spank her, and now she realized how comical she must have looked with sweatpants around her feet. She stepped out of them and dropped to the floor, her head falling once again. She was nervous for what was to come next; she was ashamed for him to see her like this and in such a vulnerable state.

  She wondered if he was going to spank her more, or if he would even fulfill her pussy’s desire and fill it with his throbbing manhood. She quivered in anticipation and wondered if it was a good anticipation or a bad one. She wondered if she should be upset or joyous; and why she was feeling both emotions equally and at the same time.

  “Spread your legs,” Roland said softly, almost gently, and she did. She parted her thighs obediently, and her clit throbbed in response to the command. He was going to fuck her; he was going to fulfill her secret and humiliating desire. She was almost disgusted with herself; it was some sort of Stockholm syndrome that was coming forth—but without the feelings. She still despised him.

  Regardless, it was obscene. It was crazy. It was lunatic, but fuck did it ignite her fire to hear him move behind her. Where she once felt the cloth of his pants on her still-sore ass, she now felt bare skin. He had removed his pants, or at the very least pulled them down. She shivered at the feeling of his hot, bare flesh against her until she felt his cock, slick with pre-cum, nudge against her pussy’s entrance.

  Roland gripped her hips tightly and in one swift motion—before she even knew what was happening—he forced his cock inside her. What she once she craved, turned into extreme displeasure and anger, as he plunged into her unprepared asshole. “I would have fucked your pussy if you had just obeyed me from the beginning. Now take it in the ass and show me how sorry you are!” he yelled. She let out a horrifying noise; it was agonizingly painful.

  He was large and hadn’t used any lube; she felt as if part of her was being split open from within. Alex shook and sweat droplets formed on her brow. His large cock was lodged within her relentlessly, but he had not moved.

  “Fuck,” Roland said. “Fuck, you’re so tight. How can a slut like you be so tight?”

  She whimpered in response, unable to argue. She just wanted it to be over now. The small part of her that was aroused was no longer there; it disappeared as soon as he entered her ass. It hurt—and not in a good way. And he knew it would; he meant for it to. She had misjudged him slightly; she knew he wasn’t a good guy, but she thought that he was joking with the “punishment” talk. Until this. Now she knew he was truly out for punishment, and she wondered what sort of punishments lay in wait for her if she continued to argue against his sexual wishes.

  He gripped her hips hard with both hands and with one movement of his own hips, pulled out quickly. She hissed from the sudden movement and that small audible noise was soon replaced by a heavy and pleading yelp, as he thrust back into her ten times harder than the first. Roland fucked her hard, building up a rhythm, and Alex gasped and moaned, pain sparking through her until she felt her walls tighten and a wave of pleasure shoot through her core down to her toes. She was orgasming. To say that it took her by surprise would be a sore understatement because the pain had disguised the pleasure completely until the very end. She screamed and clamped down on Roland’s hard cock, as stars illuminated before her eyes like fireworks.

  It took her a minute to even realize that Roland was still buried to the hilt inside of her ass, fucking her with an aggressive force. “Ah, Alex,” Roland chuckled. “Did I say that you could come? Coming by being fucked in the ass…you’re such a big, fucking, dirty slut. Now, you’re just going to have to take it; now that you’re overly sensitive you’ll just have to suffer while I fuck you. Because I’m going to fuck you, hard—and until you can barely walk.”

  His breath was ragged, and his words were spread out in heated gasps, but she could tell he was serious. She could feel it as his pace increased and his pubis rammed into her wounded ass cheeks. She groaned as Roland started to move even faster, fucking her even harder and more relentless than before. “I’m coming, whore! On your back! Now!” he demanded as he pulled out and forcefully flipped her over. The sting of her ass hitting the cold and hard wooden floor made tears well up in the brims of her eyes, but it was a short-lived pain. He kneeled over her until his cock was perpendicular to her mouth and gave his foreskin a few final strokes until he exploded all over her face.

  “Now get cleaned up,” he said plainly, making his way to his feet. He grabbed his pants, and she watched as he walked away. His ass was nicely rounded, even a little plump, but she could only see glimpses of it when the air would flow over the tail-end of his shirt and blow it upwards. Through all of it, she hadn’t even thought about his shirt still being on.

  She wondered what he might look like shirtless; he had quite the toned body from the looks of it. She couldn’t imagine him looking bad. But then, she giggled. He had been Donald Ducking it the entire time he was fucking her. She was thankful for such comedic imagery because it was the only thing that pulled her out of her pained stupor and gave her the ability to get up off the floor. As she struggled to her feet, hatred and disdain were more present in her mind and heart than they were before. Roland Peters—as far as Alex was concerned—was the fucking devil.

  Chapter 11

  The painful assault to her ass, asshole, and the rest of her body had created a nearly crippling pain that seemed to radiate through her entire being. She had been hoping to lay eyes on her attacker all day, but he was nowhere to be found. He was absent. He had crossed a line, and she knew that he knew it, too. That’s why he was avoiding her.

  As far as she was concerned, he was no better than a scraggily rapist. And she would have been perfectly fine with him remaining absent for the remainder of her contract; but Alex knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. She felt assaulted and violated all over again every time she sat down and a piercing pain shot across her back end. Hell, now she hated him more than she had before.

  And it was that hatred that caused confusion.

  She wasn’t sure what prompted her journey downstairs that evening. As she rested in bed, pondering what had transpired the night before, one of the only things her brain seemed to focus on as it looped and replayed the previous evening’s happenings, was his promise to go to Gresky.

  She couldn’t allow that to ever happen. She had to look out for Denny. And she knew that if she crossed the fat prick, he would do everything in his power to ensure that Denny suffered; and there was one thing she was absolutely certain of…Mr. Gresky had a lot of fucking power.

  Not only that though, she also replayed how the violations made her feel. And she vowed, then and there, that she would never feel that way again. If she was going to be fucked anyway, it was damn sure going to be on her terms.

  And though she wasn’t quite sure what exactly prompted her journey downstairs that evening, she was sure the recollections and reflection of the night before likely played a large role. She hated the man, sure. He was despicable, so despicable in fact that it made her stomach churn with nausea. But, she knew it could have been worse.

  As she reached the bott
om step, she noticed all of the lights were on in one half of the house. And then she heard a faint crack then sound of thunderous tumbling. It was then that she knew where he was for certain.

  She ventured down the dimly lit hall and heard the rolling sounds become more amplified; she was getting closer. She had to admire the hallway in all its decorative glory. It drew what looked like an inspiration from a castle’s king’s quarters.

  The floor’s tile was reflective of something one might see in medieval times, with its gray stone-like appearance. The burgundy walls definitely contrasted well against the tile; and the hall’s lights looked like torches. They weren’t completely true to the times, though, because they didn’t hold actual flames. Electric light bulbs illuminated the top portion, but something she had to commend, though, was the fact that they stuck with the theme almost flawlessly except for the bulbs. The stick base looked identical to a real torch, probably custom-made.

  She rounded the corner to the left at the end of the hallway, and it led into a huge den, with a pool table in the center of the room. And there he was, cue stick in hand, bent over lining up his next shot. She noticed that all the balls had been sunk, except for the black eight-ball.

  She leaned against the doorway, knowing he hadn’t seen her yet; he was lost in the game. He took his shot and with a beautiful sounding crack, the cue ball blasted smoothly into the eight-ball and sunk it into the corner pocket he was obviously aiming for with swiftness. He smiled, obviously feeling accomplished.

  There was something about him in that moment that intrigued her. He was alone, and perfectly content. She wasn’t sure what his day-life entailed, but she could tell by his enjoyment of solitude that it was likely somewhere he couldn’t be himself. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that, in that moment, she felt a kinship to him as a loner—or if it was the fact that his shirt was almost completely unbuttoned—that she felt a sort of arousal fall over her. She scorned herself, but the truth was—looking at him now—it was obvious that she was oddly attracted to him.

  Hell, aesthetically speaking, she had to admit he was pretty damn good-looking. If only he wasn’t a total egomaniacal asshole, then it might have been possible to coexist. No matter, though, she still held distaste for him as a person. The only reason she did what she did next was because her arousal was finally on her terms; and she never wanted her vulnerability to be taken advantage of again. Her vow was standing firm. This was her life, her rules, and her fucking terms. And by God, she was going to fuck him, satiate his needs, and get him the fuck out of her business. If she ended up fulfilling a few desires of her own, then so be it—spoils of war, as far as she was concerned.

  Chapter 12

  “You want to fuck me? That’s not how this works,” he said, amused. He began twirling his pool stick between his fingers and waved it in front of him, as if to keep her awake. “But I like that you’re at least learning from past mistakes, but ease up a little bit. No one likes an over-achiever.”

  “Oh, calm down, Roland. No one's going to know that I initiated it this time.”

  “But that’s not how it works, Alex—” he began, but she stopped by pressing her finger to his lips.

  “Shh…no more words,” Alex pushed him against the pool table and kissed him. It was forceful and heated and filled with an unexpected lust.

  He returned the kiss, and her hands snuck down to undo his jeans. She fingered the button clumsily until she finally released the button and unzipped his fly. The garment fell to his ankles and in a feverish attempt; he stepped out of them and broke the kiss. His breath was ragged and deep, and Alex began to rub along the length of his half-hard cock through the fabric of his boxer-briefs. Roland let out a low moan before going to work on her neck, kissing, suckling, and biting at her flesh. She mused in his ministrations; he loved to mark her, and mark her she was sure he would do.

  She wasn’t sure how this worked. Did he even need to mark her? He owned her; or at the very least, he was leasing her. Would he need to mark his territory and claim her as his, as he likely did with women he hadn’t contracted out for sex? But then again, who knew of their deal? Who knew he owned women as sex slaves? Maybe this was his way of ensuring it all…so that no mistake could ever be made nor question be raised on whose she was. Maybe.

  Alex’s hand traveled under the waistband of his boxers and both of her index fingers hooked in unison to pull the garments down. Roland made a soft yet obvious noise into the crook of her neck. She could tell he was getting turned on more and more by the second as his kisses became fewer and his bites increased in number and intensity. He stepped out of the underwear shielding him from her and kicked them away. Alex smirked and dropped to her knees.

  Roland moaned softly when she grabbed his now-fully-erect cock and pulled it towards her lips. She let his delicious member hover over her mouth, just out of reach, and blew soft breaths at its head. He hissed and bucked his hips towards her, and she smiled. She was amused at the fact that he was now at her mercy. Maybe these three years could go by with a little more ease. She still hated the man, but she didn’t mind fucking him; and there was something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. There was something secretive; something mysterious there that she wanted to uncover. It was something that was almost familiar, and it sparked her curiosity. She wanted to know as much about him as she possibly could; and she wasn’t completely sure why, but she knew that the saying “keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” was something she lived by.

  She placed a single kiss at the tip and prodded her tongue out of her lips only slightly to trail over his slit. He groaned loudly and bucked again and that was her cue; she opened her mouth widely and engulfed him, sucking his entire length with enthusiasm and speed. She pulled him out slightly and worked her tongue vivaciously over the head of his cock, bringing one hand up to slowly stroke his shaft.

  "Fuck, Alex! I’m going to come!" he hissed. She couldn’t believe he was already on the verge. She felt accomplished, devilish and even a little slutty, but she liked it. If she had to do it, she wanted to be in control. She wanted at least some say in the situation. Besides that, there had been a fire ignited in her that was completely unexplainable ever since the first time he fucked her. And she wanted to get to the bottom of it; she wanted to know what it all meant.

  He tried to push his cock further down his throat, but she held him in place; she wanted this to be on her terms. She looked up at him to see his reaction, and it was almost one of warning. She knew he hated not being in control, but she didn’t care.

  “Not yet,” she said, as she stood up and pulled her shirt over her head in slow intentional movements. She dropped the red lacey shirt to the floor next to his jeans and boxer-briefs, hoping it would find good company. Smiling devilishly at the thought of their clothing becoming regular playmates, she reached behind her back and unhooked the clasps on her bra, exposing her breasts. He sighed and looked at her in what looked to be awe; and then it hit her, it was the first time he had actually seen her breasts.

  Gaining even more gumption than before, she dropped back down to her knees and resumed her feverish and pleasurable assault on his cock. Only this time, she did it a little differently; she began humming in no particular melody, just enough for the vibrations to finish him off. And she knew he could feel his orgasm coming. His breath became erratic, a sound that she had made sure to note before for future reference, and she was glad she did because it allowed her to do something she had always wanted to do. Tease. She knew he was nearing his peak; she knew he was about to explode his fiery white liquid in a pleasurable act of celebration, so she pulled away.

  “Alex! What the fuck!” Roland whined, not caring to disguise his anger. She giggled silently to herself; she couldn’t push his buttons too far since she wasn’t sure how much she could get away with. She was already calling the shots. Why rock the boat? She pushed her shining brown hair back behind her shoulders and grabbed a tie from her wrists t
o hold it up.

  “Come for me, Roland!” she urged. “Now!”

  She felt empowered screaming at him, and what she liked even more was that he didn’t seem to notice or care that she was instructing him. Just as long as she didn’t cross a line, she was sure. She just didn’t know where that line might be. She opened her mouth for him and pushed out her breasts, and he gasped, looking down at her.

  He moved his hand down to his cock and began to stroke himself, imagining that his hand was Alex’s wet, hot, smooth mouth sucking him, just as she had done a moment before. He closed his eyes, and his pace increased until he was stroking faster and faster.

  Alex was pleased with the situation, with herself, and just pleased in general. In fact, it was probably the first time since she arrived that she felt that way, and she couldn’t believe it. She didn’t really know why she was so pleased. Whether it was because she actually saw—for the first time—some sort of humanity in the man who owned her, or if it was because she finally felt in control of something, or even if it was just because she was excruciatingly horny and wanted to fuck anyone or anything she could come into contact with. So be it if it happened to be a rich bachelor with a huge cock.

  Finally, the pleasure became too much for him. “Alex…” he moaned loudly as he exploded all over Alex’s face, chin, and chest. He leaned against the pool table, eyes closed, breathing heavily, relishing in the pleasure that was etching across the entirety of his body. As his orgasm dwindled down, a soothing calmness seemed to take over. He opened his eyes again and looked at her.

  He gasped at the sight before him, just as she wanted. She was tasting his cum, intentionally dipping her fingers into the strings of it and then suckling her fingers clean. He watched her for a few moments, and she saw his once spent and flaccid cock come to life once again. It was precisely what she wanted. He groaned before pulling her up and into him. He slammed them both into the pool table and lustfully deepened the kiss, snaking his hands between her legs.