Two Beasts: A Dark Fairytale Menage Romance

by Dark Angel

  “Awful.” Really, there is no other word for it, except maybe bloody awful. “The job market just sucks right now and no one wants a marketing executive just out of college. They all want experience and even if I had that, they all want to pay jackshit, so I’m just kinda fucked. Unless I want to go crawling back home to my parents—” shudder “—I really don’t know what I’m going to do.

  “And to top it all off, I had thought I could at least dance and party in the evenings so I could have a few hours of fun in my life, but the guys I’m meeting…” I can feel Victor’s eyes on me, boring into me, but I can’t make my gaze meet his as I lamely finish, “I think I should just give up on the whole ‘save my virginity for the right guy’ thing. It was okay when I was in college but now that I’ve graduated?” My mind flashes back to earlier this evening, in Johnny’s apartment. The way he’d looked at me, as if I’d just sprouted horns out of my head. “I’m sick of being a mutant. I should just fuck the next guy who asks and get it over with.”

  Victor

  I had been lounging back, relaxing, while waiting for the clock to tick down until I could gracefully make my exit. But now that I’ve laid eyes on one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen…

  I’m not going anywhere.

  And that was before I heard the word “virgin.” Virgin? Virgin? Is that even possible in New York City – for a girl to be this beautiful and young, but still a virgin?

  But I’m not seeing her as a mutant. Far from it. Instead, there’s this part of me – a part that is…growing, shall we say? – that wants to take her into my bed and show her what it’s like to be a woman. I’d start down at her toes and begin kissing my way up her legs, until I reached her pussy, which I’d lavish with my tongue until her back arches and she screams from ecstasy.

  “Victor? You okay?” Dominic’s voice cuts through the haze of my daydream and I slowly blink, turning towards him. He arches an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to say something, and so I do.

  I don’t know if it’s the fantasy of having Vivian’s legs wrapped around my head as I lick my way to an orgasm, or what exactly causes me to lose all sense of decorum, but I look Viv straight in the eye and say, “You should auction off your virginity,” cutting right through her worries about money and paying her bills without needing to rely on her parents. She stops mid-word and just stares at me.

  “What?!” she gasps. “You want me to auction off my virginity?!?!” Her voice, which had started out the sentence appropriately hushed for this conversation topic, finishes the sentence by yelling.

  Several tables turn to look at us and I can see Dominic turning and giving them all a “Nothing to see here; everything is fine” grin but I’m too busy trying to persuade Viv that I’m right to join him in that hopeless cause.

  “Listen, it solves all of your problems at once, right? You can finally rid yourself of your virginity, this dreadful thing you seem to hate, and will make you a shit ton of cash at the same time. There are places where your virginity would go for—”

  “Excuse my friend,” Apollo says with an apologetic smile towards Vivian. “He and I need to have a little chat.” He grabs me by the arm and yanks me up out of my chair, dragging me away from the gaggle of women who are all whispering and shooting glances at me as if I’ve suggested that we kill a beloved pet as after-dinner entertainment. I shrug my arm out of Apollo’s and cross them defiantly over my chest.

  “What?” I hiss.

  “Are you trying to suggest that you’re going to buy Vivian’s virginity?” Apollo asks, matching my crossed arms and raising me a death glare that my 3rd grade teacher would’ve been proud of.

  “Me??” I feel like I just got punched in the gut. Me?! Why the hell would I buy a virgin? Or, more specifically, buy someone’s virginity? I run a software company and split my time between Silicon Valley and New York City. I am not on the market to buy someone’s virginity.

  “Yes, you! You’re the one who brought it up.” I can tell Apollo is losing his patience with me but…there is just no way.

  “Apollo, all I did was say that there are places where someone can put their virginity up for auction, and sell it. They can make damn good money doing it. I don’t run those auction companies. I don’t buy virgins! It’s just a place she can go check out if—”

  “What place?” Ashley shows up at my elbow, scaring the shit out of me. For a woman in stilettos, she sure can move quietly. I just stare down at her, feeling that I’ve completely lost control of the conversation somewhere along the way, but not quite sure why. Or how to get it back.

  “There’s a place she can go to do it?” Ashley prompts me and grumpily, I nod. I shoot Apollo a look. I don’t want to get in trouble with the guy over me upsetting his fiancee. Does he want me to continue this conversation with her? From the glare shooting my way, I’m guessing not.

  I turn back to Ashley to tell her that I was mistaken – that I must’ve heard about it all wrong and there is no such place – just to realize that she is gone again. Damn, she’s scary quiet. But she’s already heading back towards me, dragging…Vivian along behind her?

  Apollo and I exchange panicked looks.

  “What kinds of places?” she asks again, staring up at me defiantly. She isn’t going to back down until I tell her – her and Vivian – everything.

  Note to self: Keep your big yap shut.

  Vivian

  I push my sourdough toast around, taking the occasional sip of my coffee, but mostly just trying to stay focused on the topic at hand.

  When I walked across the stage to receive my marketing degree from NYU, I stupidly had this dream that I’d be able to go out and make a difference in the world. Or at least be able to pay my rent without putting my virginity up for sale.

  Listening to Apollo, Victor, and Ashley discuss the deets though, made me realize how far over my head I was in to this. This whole idea sounds like something out of a Victorian novel. I’m just sure that someone is going to pull out smelling salts at any moment and wave them around, or put on a top hat and cane to walk out of the diner. This is the 21st century. This doesn’t happen in the 21st century, right?

  Wrong.

  “Why can’t one of you guys just hand me cash?” I ask desperately, my eyes flitting back and forth between Apollo and Victor. They’re both so rich, God is jealous of them, or at least that’s what Ashley told me on the way over here to this diner, whispering to me in the back of the Uber. If they’re so hell-bent on getting my financial situation straightened out, then that seems a lot more straightforward. I could pay them back…later. When I had a job.

  “The Virgin Market has all of the details figured out,” Apollo puts in kindly. He seems like a pretty nice guy, even if not exactly living up to the Sex God title that Ashley had been giving him all these months. Not like Victor, anyway. Now there’s a sex god come to earth. “They will set you up with an account in the Cayman Islands where the money will be transferred. It’ll be offshore and untaxed. If we just hand it to you, you’d owe a whopping tax bill at the end of it. This way, you’ll be able to pay off all of your debt and have a nice nest egg to tide you over until you can find employment.”

  All of my debt? I can’t help but think that I’ve won the lottery here. I was one of those typical college students who got like ten credit cards when I first started at NYU to “build up my credit” but…life is expensive and credit is easy. Too easy. Now I have so many credit card bills coming in each month, I have to borrow from one to pay for another. Between that and not being able to find a job since graduating six months ago (which means, yup, student loans are coming due too), I’ve just been stressing to the max.

  And yet, here was an opportunity to wipe that all clean. Yeah, it was insane and yeah, I didn’t even know it was a “thing” until about three hours ago, but…all my debt gone? A nest egg to tide me over?

  I’d fuck a one-tooth wonder with nicotine breath if that’s what it took. Anything to finally be able to sl
eep at night.

  Except…

  I know I’m basically getting handed a Get Out Of Jail Free card. I know that there are people who’d kill for exactly what I’m being offered here: A head start on life without debt dragging me down. But…

  Why doesn’t Victor want me? He is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life. About 20 minutes ago, he was taking a bite out of his hamburger, and I broke out into a sweat at just the sight of it. God, nothing is sexier than Victor eating a hamburger. Except when he took a bite out of french fries, and I felt the sweat trickle down my back. I couldn’t breathe.

  Which is why I know I have it bad. I’ve never reacted to a guy like this, which is why I’m 21 and still a virgin. Guys are cute, guys are fine, but most of them just leave me shrugging. Like Apollo. Logically, I know he probably should be starring on the cover of GQ every month. I get that. But, he just leaves me…meh.

  Victor? He’s over-the-top sexy with a side of oh-my-god hunkiness.

  So why is it that the one guy I’ve met that I wanted to fuck as soon as I’ve laid eyes on him, doesn’t seem to want me? All he’s doing is helping set me up to be purchased by someone else. Which, ummm…thanks for the help? I guess?

  I have this sudden, crazy idea of throwing myself on top of the table and yelling, “Take me as I am!” but barely restrain myself. I want the guy’s help – not to terrify him.

  “She’ll have to be trained,” Victor says, which yanks me back to their conversation. I don’t know what else I’ve missed, but yeah…that statement for sure catches my attention.

  “Trained?” I echo dumbly. Like a dog?

  “Vivian, the going price for young, gorgeous—” He thinks I’m gorgeous! “—virgins like you is about 1.5 million dollars.”

  I just gape at him.

  I can’t breathe.

  Wha…what?!

  “You don’t think someone is going to give you $1.5 million dollars for one night of sex, do you? Virginity is to be prized, not denigrated—” Tell my last four dates that “—but not that highly prized. You’re going to be doing a lot more than just fucking some guy.”

  I shit you not when I say that my eyes are as big around as the pickle slices on our hamburgers. Follow along for just a moment with me, will you? I went from:

  a) Thinking that I should save my virginity for the man I love, to

  b) Thinking that I’m mutant for still being a virgin, thus I should

  c) Just fuck a random guy and get it over with, to

  d) Finding out that auctioning off your virginity was a “thing” that can be done in the 21st century, to

  e) Thinking that this meant a night of sex in the arms of One Tooth Wonder, to

  f) Finding out that I was, in fact, going to become some sort of sex slave.

  All in the last three hours. You’ll have to excuse me for not keeping up.

  “She’ll do it,” Ashley puts in. I turn to glare at her – since when is it her choice of whether or not I become someone else’s sex slave?? – when the number $1.5 million rolls around in my head again.

  Can you imagine everything you could do with a cool $1.5 in the bank? I know I sure can.

  I turn back to Victor. “What is involved in being ‘trained’?” I ask suspiciously. If being ‘trained’ means wearing a poodle outfit and crawling around the house on all fours, barking like a dog…

  Well, I’d at least have to think really, really hard about it before saying yes. Pretend that I’m above that sort of thing before admitting that for $1.5 million dollars, I’m really, really not.

  Let’s be real here.

  “Nothing you won’t…enjoy,” Victor says with a mysterious smile, which lights up my heart like he’s pumping me full of helium. I smile back at him, wanting nothing more than to launch myself across the table at him. What if I unbuttoned his shirt with my teeth? Would he want to fuck me then?

  “How to act as a proper sex slave. How to be spanked…and like it. How to handcuffed to a bed…and like it.”

  Is it hot in here? I feel like it’s about 700 degrees in here. I want nothing more than to strip myself naked right now.

  “I’ll do it,” I croak.

  “Who’s going to train her?” Ashley asks. “Are you?”

  Victor looks between Ashley, Apollo, and me like he’s waiting for one of us to yell, “JUST KIDDING!” complete with jazz hands, at that suggestion. When everyone just stares back at him, he finally gets out, “Hold on a moment here…I didn’t say I wanted to buy a virgin!”

  “But you’re the only one who can give her the proper training,” Apollo says gently. “I’m pretty sure that Ashley wouldn’t appreciate it if I did, and I don’t see anyone else standing around, waiting to do it, do you?”

  Automatically, we all look around the diner, as if some BDSM master is just going to show up at our table and say, “I’ll take her home!”

  Not surprisingly, it’s two o’clock in the morning and Suzie’s Diner in West Side is clean out of BDSM doms. Who woulda thunk it.

  “You know that if she goes into the Virgin Market auction untrained, her value goes down significantly. Not your value as a person,” Apollo says, turning to me anxiously. “Your inner value is priceless. I just mean how much someone would be willing to cough up for—”

  “It’s okay,” I say, waving off his stuttered worries. “We’re way past PC now.” I turn back to Victor and with a big gulp, say, “Will you do it? Will you train me?”

  His gaze never waivers as we stare at each other over the cracked linoleum tabletop.

  “Yes,” he finally says. “Yes, I’ll train you.”

  YES! It’s all I can do to keep from jumping up on the table and dancing a jig.

  “Be at my place tomorrow – noon. I’m in the Time Warner Center. I’ll meet you there and we can start going over things then.”

  Tomorrow at noon, my whole life changes.

  Ho

  ly

  fuck

  Victor

  What’s that awful country song – It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere? Well, here in New York City, it’s only 11:46 but I’ve decided to live by that philosophy anyway. I take a swig of my scotch and stare morosely at the front door.

  What the hell had I been thinking, agreeing to train a virgin? It’s not like I do this every other weekend or something. All of my girlfriends have come deflowered, thankyouverymuch. And that’s how I like ‘em. I don’t want to have to train someone how to give a blowjob or that it’s okay to have a threesome when you’re feeling frisky. I like my women knowledgeable.

  You were damn turned on by the thought of Vivian being a virgin.

  That’s true. I was. The idea of showing her what it’s like to be fucked until she’s screaming with pleasure…

  I feel my dick getting hard again, just thinking about it.

  But fuck, this whole train-a-virgin thing means that by definition, I can’t fuck her until she screams. That’s the one thing I can’t do. All I can look forward to is two weeks of mental and physical torture, as I attempt to teach her how to readily accept spankings, orders from a dom, and yet not be able to do the one thing I’ve wanted to be able to do since I laid eyes on her – throw her down on the bed and fuck her until she cums.

  Weeks of frustration lay ahead of me. I take another swig of my scotch, cursing under my breath. I’d thrown out the idea of the Virgin Market because c’mon, it’s a hell of a conversation starter. I was trying to hit on a totally sexy, fuckable girl. I was not trying to actually get her to do it, or convince her that being a sex slave was a viable career option, let alone thinking that I’d be the one to introduce her to it all.

  The front door bell rings and I look at the clock, surprised. She’s four minutes early. No woman has ever been early in the history of the world. A gorgeous 21-year-old virgin who values timeliness? I would’ve sworn that wasn’t even a possibility…if Viv wasn’t busy proving me wrong.

  I went over to the front door and let her in. “Hi,” s
he says shyly, walking past me and into my apartment, pulling a suitcase along behind her. She’s wearing such a tight dress, I’m pretty sure I can tell that her belly button is an outie.

  And every other curve she possesses is on display.

  Oh fffuuuucccckkkk…

  I am not going to survive the next two weeks.

  “So what should I call you?” she asks as I close the door behind her, breathing in deep, trying to get my dick to calm down.

  “Uhhhh…”

  Let’s be honest here – there is almost no blood in my brain right now. It’s all much farther south, if you know what I mean.

  “I think I should call you Master,” she announces. “Master Victor.”

  “Master?” I echo. That seems a little too far for me.

  “Yeah, I was doing research on the internet about being a sex slave, and apparently, that’s what all of the BDSM slaves call their doms.”

  I officially have no blood north of the belt line.

  Vivian

  “So where do we begin?" I ask once I entered turning to face him.

  "Anywhere you want, I guess."

  Anywhere that I want? If it's going to go this way then, fine, let's go this way.

  "You're the one that is supposed to be training me so I thought I would show you what you what you have to work with."

  "Yeah, that's a good idea. What you got?"

  What I currently have is very little floor space to work with. I had thought Victor would be into that modern open-space concept type decorating style. It now appears that I am wrong.

  Having to scoot his coffee table out of the way does have one small benefit. moving it gives me the opportunity for a little self pep talk.

  Just keep moving forward with the plan you had all along. You had all afternoon to think about this. Came up with a list of points, just follow that list.

  I have never had to move furniture in six inch high heels before and it certainly lends a whole new level of difficulty to the task. Great, now I am breathing like a wounded rhinoceros.