Winter's Beast: A Beauty and the Beast Novel

by Twyla Turner

  “Wait, Skotina.” Ivan stops him. “Stand there. I want you to watch.”

  I inwardly cringe. Skotina doesn’t look much happier.

  Ivan waves over one of the stagehands who is holding a large black case. He walks over and holds it out on top of his arms. Ivan unclasps the case and opens it. Inside are several different items. Sticks with fuzzy feathers at the ends. Some strange handles with soft looking fronds on the ends. They almost looked like cat-o-nine tails, but they didn’t appear quite as dangerous as the ones I have read about. And lastly, there are what appear to be a couple of vibrators too.

  Dear God!

  I have never pleasured myself before. Vibrator or otherwise. I always felt too embarrassed to try. And now absolute strangers were going to use them on me.

  Could this get any fucking worse? And could I be any more aroused at the thought of these people using them on me?

  I turn my eyes to Skotina. I see guilt and sympathy written all over his face. As much as I don’t want him to witness what is about to happen to me, I can’t take my eyes from his. His sorrowful eyes and familiar scarred face calm me. And needing that composure supersedes any feelings of shame, I’m about to have.

  “Pick your poison.” Ivan offers the six people standing in front of me. “The rules are, use these toys to bring her pleasure, but you are not allowed to touch her with any part of your bodies. Just the toys. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oui.”

  “Sì.”

  “Da.” They all concede in unison in their individual languages.

  What am I? A fucking international buffet?!

  I strain against the bonds that are holding me to the cross as the group steps closer to me. Behind me, a stagehand adjusts the cross so that it’s at an angle and I’m partially lying back on it. Making me more vulnerable and easier to access.

  A red-haired woman is the first to touch me with one of the feathers. She strokes it down my neck to my breast. She circles one of my nipples, and it tightens in response. The sensation feels good, and I clench my teeth to keep from making a sound.

  What’s worse than getting violated, is getting violated and being made to enjoy it.

  “She won’t admit it, but I think she likes it.” The redhead says with a seductive smile.

  I can’t stand to look at her and turn to look at Skotina again. His hands are balled into tight fists at his sides.

  They all converge on me. Someone begins to lightly smack my arms, breasts, stomach, mound, and thighs with the soft cat-o-nine tails thing. It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it does make my skin more sensitive. Which I find out as others follow the soft whacks with the feather ticklers.

  “The floggers are turning your pale skin into a pretty shade of pink, Winter,” Ivan says with approval, finally naming the soft whip.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block him out. I shake my head back and forth as I fight a losing battle over my body. I can’t stop trembling as they caress every sensitive spot on my body. Tension has built up in my belly. A thin sheen of perspiration covers my skin. And I can feel the slickness that collects between my thighs and runs down the crease of my behind. I refuse to cry out, but I can’t stop the soft moans that rumble in my throat.

  “I think she’s ready.” I hear Ivan’s voice. Though it sounds different. Huskier.

  I look to Skotina. His lips are in a tight line, and his fists haven’t loosened even a little at his sides. Anger is written all over him. Yet his eyes are on fire. Just as I’m fighting my arousal with every fiber of my being, so is he. It appears that we’re both losing.

  I hear the soft hum of a vibrator. But I refuse to look. My eyes are locked with Skotina’s. It is a mistake.

  The soft, rounded tip of the vibrator touches my clit. I’m not prepared for it. The tension within my belly explodes. Stars burst behind my eyes. I sharply inhale. I strain against the bonds that hold me to the cross. My hips involuntarily pump against the toy. Tears spill from the corners of my eyes.

  Skotina takes a step towards me but then stops. As if my climax beckons him, but then he came to his senses.

  It’s my first orgasm ever. It devastates me that it has happened in this way. Forced out of me in front of an audience. Yet I can’t deny how incredible it feels.

  They’re not through with me yet, though.

  Two continue to slap my overly sensitive skin with the floggers. Another two, caress my pinkened skin with the ticklers. And the last two alternate between stroking the vibrators between my labia and holding them against my clit.

  It is almost painful. It’s too much. Too soon after my first orgasm. Sensory overload.

  I feel another climax building. Being forced out of me. It hurts, and I shake my head back and forth. I try to force it back.

  “Don’t fight it or it’ll hurt more.” Ivan breathes next to my ear.

  My climax rips through me. Shock hits me as my vagina squirts everywhere. I buck wildly against the cross, trying to get away from the pleasure devices that have turned to torture. And I finally scream. Which is what I believe they’ve wanted from me from the start.

  I hear wild applause as well as cries of pleasure coming from the audience. My orgasm enhancing the climax of those who watch me as they fuck. And still, my torturers will not let up. They want more from me.

  “Stop. Stop. STOP! Please!!!” I cry out.

  “That’s enough,” Ivan tells them.

  The sexual torture immediately stops.

  I sag with relief.

  “Thank you, everyone,” Ivan says kindly to the six participants.

  The applause dies down. The six volunteers start to head back to whatever sexually deviant behavior they had planned for the night. Seductive music is turned up. The spotlight finally shuts off. I can see the audience once more. Many are staring up at me through the dim light of the club. They look ravenous. All I want to do is shrink into a ball and hide.

  The handsome man who wielded one of the vibrators with such accuracy stops to speak with Ivan. They’re close enough that I can hear what is being said over the music.

  “I must have her.” The man tells Ivan. He’s American.

  “No, my friend. She is mine. And at this time, I’m not sharing.”

  “You’re a lucky bastard, Petrov.”

  The man pats Ivan on the shoulder. He looks back at me longingly. A calculating look crosses his face but is gone a second later. He finally turns and walks away.

  Ivan steps closer to me and reaches out a hand to touch my arm. I flinch. I can’t stand the thought of him touching me. And I’m on the verge of losing it.

  I blink back tears and my bottom lip trembles. Ivan pulls his hand away from me and leans down instead.

  “Will you disobey me again?”

  I shake my head vigorously.

  “Will you say no to me again?”

  I shake my head again.

  “Good girl.”

  He looks up at Skotina and smiles. I glance over, and the disfigured man is staring daggers at his boss.

  “She’ll be fine, Skotina. Don’t be so sensitive.” Ivan waves off his guard’s anger. “You can take her back to her room now. And remember what I told you earlier.”

  Skotina nods once quickly before Ivan turns and leaves us on the stage.

  I look at him, and his eyes are filled with so much compassion that it finally breaks me. A sob bursts through my lips before I can stop it and I look away.

  My tears have less to do with what they did to me, and more to do with the shame I feel for enjoying it. And in front of a rapt audience, no less. Being made to feel things I’ve been resistant to face in front of strangers had been unbelievably exhilarating.

  It makes me question everything about myself.

  Chapter 10

  Watching Winter being broken in, in front of an audience and doing nothing about it, had to be one of the hardest things I have ever done. And I have done some fucked up shit. It did not help that I fe
lt shame for becoming more aroused than I ever have been in my life. I felt dirty. Like a cur.

  I feel even worse when she looks at me and her face crumples. A heart-wrenching sob escapes her throat. The sound is like a punch to the gut. I squat down, grab the torn dress, and try my best to drape it over her naked body. My fingers quickly undo the buckles on the leather cuffs.

  Once Winter’s arms are free, she clutches the red satin to her skin as I unclasp her ankles. Her legs instantly buckle. I don’t care about Ivan’s warning about not touching her. I scoop her up into my arms. Besides, I’m certain when he says not to touch her, he means not to fuck her.

  Winter buries her face into my chest, and her hands clutch at my shirt. The moment we get into the elevator alone, she fully let's go. Her body shakes uncontrollably. My shirt sticks to my skin where her warm tears collect.

  I lick my lips. I want to speak so damn bad. I want to comfort her. But what words could I actually say to make any of what just happened better?

  The elevator reaches the top floor. I gladly carry Winter inside the penthouse apartment and up to her bedroom. I’m reluctant to let her go. I do anyway.

  Her feet touch the floor, and she looks down awkwardly at her toes as she clutches the dress to her body. She can’t even look at me. It is best if I go.

  I turn towards the door, and I feel her small hand on my forearm.

  “Stay,” she whispers.

  I turn back and nod. Though she cannot see it since she refuses to look up at me.

  I have no idea why she would want me to stay if she is too embarrassed to even look at me. But I decide not to question it. If she wants me to stay, I will. At this point, I will probably do anything she asks me to.

  Winter slowly backs away from me towards the closet. It is obvious she does not want me to see her naked backside. A few moments later, she emerges wrapped tightly in a robe with some folded clothing in her hands.

  “I-I need to take a shower. I feel wrong,” she confesses.

  I sit in one of the large comfortable chairs in her room. I hear the spray of water in the shower and try hard not to imagine the water cascading down her fair skin. But now that I know what she looks like bare, it is hard to wipe the image from my brain.

  When she had been tied to that cross, I’d had so many warring emotions.

  She was stunning. The contrast of her shocking white skin against the dark wood. Her body, full and soft, like a Renaissance-era painting. Her breasts heavy and tipped the palest pink color. And sweet Venus, goddess of love and sex! Her swollen and glistening pink pussy covered in white curls almost did me in.

  I wanted her with every cell in my body. I wanted to smash every face in the club who dared to look at her. And I wanted to puke because I was so turned on as she was being sexually tortured.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?! I do not deserve her. I am a monster inside and out.

  Winter comes out a while later. Her hair is twisted into the plaits she does almost every night. They make her look so young. She is wearing thin cotton pajama pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. It is the most covered up I have seen her. I do not blame her. She had been bared for all the world to see. I am sure she needed to feel some modesty.

  My eyes follow her as she makes her way to the bed. She gets in and faces me. She pulls a pillow onto her lap, clutching it tightly to her chest. Finally, she looks up at me with puffy red eyes.

  I love her.

  Admitting that to myself makes my earlier silence so much more awful.

  “What does Skotina mean in English?” Winter asks so softly I almost do not hear her. She sighs, “Never mind. I know you can’t talk. For some reason, I always expect you to just start speaking.”

  “Trust me, I want to talk.”

  Instead, I pull out my notepad and quickly scribble across it.

  It means beast.

  I stand and pull my chair over to the bed. She reaches for the pad of paper once I’m next to her. Her eyes scan my writing briefly.

  “Hmm… I suppose that fits,” she says thoughtfully.

  Yes, I am ugly.

  I write down matter-of-factly. I hand it back to her.

  She gasps and slides to the edge of the bed. She reaches out and does something no ever does to me. She clasps my hand. No hesitation. No revulsion. Her fingers grazing the scars on top of my right hand.

  “Don’t ever say that! That is not what I meant. I was thinking that you’re so tall and muscular that you’re like a beast. For me, it has nothing to do with your face. I don’t even see it anymore.” She says in a quick tumble of words.

  I look at her skeptically.

  “It’s true!” She grips my hand tighter. “When you’re around someone long enough, their flaws begin to disappear. Especially if you start to like them.”

  Her white lashes flutter down, looking away shyly.

  I quickly scrawl across the paper and turn it to show her what I wrote.

  You…like me?

  “I mean, aside from stalking me and stealing me from my bed, you’ve been really kind to me.”

  I am sorry.

  It is now my turn to look away. My heart squeezes a bit knowing that she likes me more like a loyal dog than an available man.

  “Why do you work for him? Why do you do the terrible things he asks you to do?”

  The accusation in her voice makes me look up. Her eyes are filled with hurt for my part in her newfound imprisonment.

  I am not ready to tell her about what happened to me. What led to Ivan saving my life. Besides, it would be a lot to write.

  Later.

  Winter nods her head solemnly and then decides to change the subject.

  “What was Ivan talking about when he said, ‘remember what I told you earlier.’?”

  He told me not to touch you.

  “Why would he need to tell you that?”

  I look down at my lap before writing.

  He thinks I have feelings for you.

  “Do you?” She blinks up at me innocently.

  I cannot find it in me to lie to her.

  Yes.

  Her cheeks flush with pink, and she smiles at me sweetly.

  Winter slowly leans forward and kisses me on my scarred cheek. No one has ever done that before. My throat feels thick all of a sudden.

  It seems as if she’s already given me a lot of firsts.

  “So I’m assuming Skotina is a nickname. What is your real name?” She asks, and my heart fills with warmth.

  Yury

  “I like it. It suits you.” She smiles. “Yury, would you mind staying with me at least until I fall asleep?”

  I shake my head, “No, I would not mind.”

  My name on her lips fills me with so much joy, I can’t even explain it. Only being called Skotina for the last several years makes me feel like nothing more than a pet.

  Winter crawls back to the center of the bed and gets under the covers. I pick up the chair and pull it a little closer. As I sit, she turns towards me and holds out her hand. I take it, marveling at the differences in our skin. She’s even fairer than I am.

  “I am pretty pasty.” She tries to make fun of herself.

  I pull my hand away to briefly write.

  No, you are beautiful.

  I could have simply shaken my head and left it at that. But I wanted her to know what I really think.

  Her cheeks tinge with pink again. She does not respond. Instead, she lies down on the pillows. Her hand still firmly within mine.

  Her eyes eventually drift shut. It is not long before her breathing becomes deep and even. Her hand goes slack around mine.

  I know she only wanted me to stay until she fell asleep, but I am not ready to go just yet.

  Chapter 11

  I’m back on the stage. Under the bright lights. I try to move, but I’m stuck. I look to both sides and see that I’m once more strapped to the cross. My skin bare. I start to panic.

  The bright spotlight fades away. The only pers
on in the audience is Yury. My heart instantly calms and fills with warmth.

  He slowly gets up and makes his way onto the stage in front of me. I see him as he would be if he’d never been disfigured. He’s beautiful. His eyes, the same warm brown.

  He hesitates to come closer.

  “It’s okay. I want you to.” I tell him in a reassuring tone.

  His eyes eat me up as he steps forward.

  “Touch me.”

  His massive hands clasp my face. He can snap me in half if he wants to, yet I feel zero fear. Somehow I know he’d never physically hurt me.

  Yury leans in. He rubs his nose against mine affectionately. I feel the soft bristles of his beard against my face. His lips find mine, and I feel it down to the soles of my feet.

  Next, his hands are on me. They’re rough against my soft skin. My body comes alive. I feel happiness coming out of every pore. Happiness because it feels right. Like how it should be. How it should’ve been the first time I orgasmed.

  His hands leave my skin on fire. One caresses my nipples as the other moves down my stomach to the curls covering my mound. One large digit slides between my drenched lips. He covers his finger in my arousal and strokes up to my clit. He circles my nub with a slick fingertip. I cry out and roll my hips against his hand.

  I feel my climax building.

  ~~~

  I must have fallen asleep after watching the calm rise and fall of Winter’s breath. A soft moan pulls me from my sleep. My eyes open and I sit up quickly, afraid something is wrong with her. I switch on the bedside lamp to see her better.

  She’s on her back. Her head rolls from side to side on the pillow. Small cries escape her parted lips. Her hips shift restlessly under the covers.

  My pulse starts to pound as I realize she’s having a sex dream.

  “Yury,” She moans.

  Blood immediately fills my cock hearing my name on her lips while in the throes of passion.

  Her back arches off the bed as she gasps. Winter’s eyes fly open, her breath panting. She searches for me. Her eyes find mine and flash like amber on fire.