Belle

by Tamara Vincent

  Belle felt anger flare in her chest and she jumped up, knocking the brandy glass on the floor, and charged towards the Beast, frowning, and expelling blue smoke through her nostrils.

  “What is this?” she exclaimed, stopping in front of him and throwing her book on the floor. “You need these two old bags to entertain you? What am I, second hand news? Am I no longer tight enough to please you? Am I not enough of a whore, that you need two more from the street to roll in your bed?”

  The two women were staring at her with open fear, while she belched more smoke, like a dragon, and confronted the mountain of muscles and fur and horns that was the Beast.

  The monster laughed, but this only stoked Belle’s anger further.

  “What is so funny, you monster?” she hissed.

  “You don’t understand, my beautiful wild one,” he said. The Beast placed his hands in the small of the backs of the two hookers. “You are all the whore that I need, and then some. But these two beauties are for you.”

  Belle’s eyes widened, and the Beast gave her a cruel grin. “I thought you might like some other diversion.”

  She put her arm around the waist of the brunette and pulled her closer. She squeezed her ass through the velvet of her gown, and felt her boobs press against her side. “You tickle my fancy, Beast,” she said with a wild grin. “I hope we’ll be sharing.”

  The brunette turned out to be pliable and dirty-minded enough to match every invention from Belle, and up the ante, as they rolled in her huge four-poster bed. Belle tore her dress off and then straddled her, pressing her down, her hands on her boobs, and sought her mouth, hungrily, pushing her tongue in, tasting booze and tobacco on the other woman’s breath.

  Behind them, on the floor of Belle’s bedchamber, the Beast was fondling the blonde to orgasm, his long tongue running along her rib cage, his fingers teasing and tickling her, as she ran her hands through her hair, and babbled meaninglessly.

  Slapping the brunette’s hip, Belle had her change position. She pushed her knees open and gently kissed and nibbled the inside of her thigh until she reached that most delightful of spots, and applied her tongue to the pierced labia, flesh tickling metal, while the brunette squeezed her own tits and moaned.

  The blonde knelt in adoration in front of the Beast’s erection and then, steeling herself, she went down on him, her mouth spreading and clicking, her lips sliding down along the shaft. He placed a hand on her head and helped her in her feat.

  Belle slithered along the brunette’s body, massaging her abs and her boobs with her nipples, like rough dark fingertips, until she was again biting in the brunette’s lips. “Now is your turn,” she said in her ear, and grasping her by the shoulders she fell back, dragging her along, so that now the brunette was on top. She squeezed her ass, and then gently eased her down, until she felt her hair and then her lips caress her vulva.

  The blonde gagged and coughed, cum drooling down her chin.

  The Beast pushed her on the carpet, and started mounting her.

  Belle grasped the brunette by the hair and pulled her away from her twat. “Let’s join them,” she said, nodding at the two shapes coupling on the carpet. The brunette let out a happy wail, and staggered there, and Belle followed.

  The blonde was called Aurora. She and Belle shared the bathtub, rubbing against each other. Aurora was not much for talking, but she knew how to make herself understood. She sat with her back to Belle, her legs intertwined, and Belle poured soft shampoo in her hands and then squeezed Aurora’s boobs, while the blonde laughed and ran the ball of her foot along Belle’s calf.

  They massaged each other, and brought each other to orgasm, in a storm of soap bubbles. Then they just laid in the hot water, cradling each other, drunk on sex and stunned in their post-coital haze.

  From the bedroom, the brunette, that had turned out to be called P.H., squealed as the Beast plowed her.

  Aurora fell asleep, and stared gently sliding into the water.

  Belle chuckled, and pulled her up, circling her chest with her arm.

  “Are you happy?” the Beast asked Belle later, while they hugged each other on the bed, P.H. and Aurora asleep at their sides.

  “Yes,” Belle said.

  The beast lit a cigar and handed it to her.

  Belle smiled brightly and sucked a big mouthful of smoke.

  “But?” the Beast said.

  “What do you mean?”

  His laugh rumbled through his chest. Belle’s nipples stiffened. She loved to hold on onto his big frame, feel the muscle ripple under the soft fur, and his breath filling his chest like a great bellow.

  “There was something,” he said, “in the way you said yes, that seemed to me to imply a but.”

  She chuckled and stretched, rubbing her bare leg against the fur-wrapped muscles of his thigh.

  “There is something,” she said, softly.

  “What?”

  She hummed, cuddling closer. “Something crazy,” she said.

  Again he laughed. “What?”

  “Something I really really want,” she said. She pressed her tits against his chest, and stretched a hand to massage the root of his horn. He purred like a big cat.

  “What?” he asked, more urgently.

  His big hand closed on her buttock, and he pulled her closer still.

  “Something that would make me really really happy,” she said, in a little girl voice.

  “Speak,” he hummed, “and I will give it to you.”

  She teased his nipples- “I’m not sure you can.”

  “Speak!” he snapped, angrily.

  “Well,” she cooed in his ear, “since you insist—I want to be like you.”

  Belle woke up groggily.

  Her head pounded and her pussy was on fire. She smiled to herself. That was rather normal.

  She stretched her arms over her head and she walked to the bathroom.

  The Beast had taken Aurora and P.H. wherever he had found them. She ran a hot shower and she stepped under the jet. Her belly rumbled. She was hungry.

  She dried herself up and she checked herself out in the mirror. “Well, fuck,” she said, with a huge grin.

  She caressed gently the thick bush of coppery curls between her legs, and then followed the line of fur that connected her crotch with her navel. She turned slightly. Her hair had grown in length and volume, and now there was a line of hair that ran down her back, along the spine, to her crack.

  She shook her hair, and she pulled at her nipples. Were her boobs larger. She hefted and squeezed them. They certainly felt heavier. But her shoulders were also wider, and her abs under the coppery fur were more sculpted than they had ever been.

  Her belly rumbled again.

  Without bothering with clothes, she went down to the dining hall, where she found a large steak and a keg of beer waiting for her. She wolfed the meat down, the juice trickling down on bosom. She stretched her tongue out and licked it off.

  This, too, was novel.

  She pulled her tongue. It reached down to her chest, and she was able to wrap the thin, raspy tip around her nipples. She shuddered in pleasure.

  But then, hadn’t the Beast said he would give her whatever she asked?

  She flexed her hands. The fingers were longer, and muscles rippled on her forearms that had not been there before. She looked at her fingernails, long and thick and dark, sharp like razors. There were tufts of long coppery hair on her forearms and when she straightened her back and pumped her biceps, she noticed a thick layer of hair covering her shoulders, like a cape.

  She licked the plate clean, and then she sprung up. Her toe-nails clicked on the floor as she walked along the corridor and up the stairs.

  The mirror revealed more changes. The fur was thicker, now both her body and her hair showing black streaks, like a tiger’s. She was certainly more muscular, and more long-limbed. She ran her hands along her ribs and up her chest and was surprised feeling two more set of nipples stiffen under her palms.
<
br />   She crossed her hands behind her head, and stretched her torso, and she could see, through the fur, four extra tits, little more than A-size, in the shadow of her DD rack.

  Her face was also changing. Stronger jaw, more massive teeth, the eye-teeth long and sharp. She pulled out her tongue, and licked her lips, her chin, the side of her face, up to the eyebrow.

  It was her desire, just like she had imagined it.

  She felt a bursting surge of energy.

  She needed to run.

  The snow felt good beneath her feet as Belle ran through the park. She took long strides as she dodged the bare trees, and then sometimes she fell on all four, speeding through the undergrowth. She could pick up the smell of water from the nearby creek, and the tang of the sap of a tree that the cold had cracked. She followed for a few hundred yards the scent of a wild rabbit, and then she picked up something a lot stronger and more powerful. She crouched on top of a stone, sniffing the air, her tail wrapped around a leg.

  She had never felt so free, or so powerful.

  She still wasn’t able to identify whatever had left that strong spur, but she decided to follow it. She jumped from her perch and she followed the wind, silent like a shadow, powerful legs pumping, her muscular hands opening and closing with each stride.

  Then she stopped, a murder of crows raising in the air as she approached. Smart crows, friendly crows. But she was not here for them. She squinted through the bare branches at the long legged animal walking carefully in the clearing before her. A fawn, its steps still missing the elegance of a full-grown deer. She observed it from her hideaway. The large head, the big melancholy eyes.

  She felt excited. Not like when she was sex-mad, but another kind of lust causing her heart to pump harder. She kept herself upwind and she followed her prey for a few hundred yards more.

  Her prey.

  It was so good, so thrilling.

  She sprang with a roar, and landed on the fawn’s back. As yet inexperienced, she failed to sink her teeth in the animal’s throat, and it kicked and bucked and dislodged her. It bolted, zigzagging between the trees, and she followed suit, her heart singing, all of her senses focused on the chase.

  She caught it again, this time using her hands to rack its side and grasp it, and finally opening her mouth wide, teeth glistening in the morning light. The fawn let out a cry, and she sunk her teeth in its neck, blood gushing, hot, in her mouth. The fawn collapsed, long legs kicking. She growled, and used her powerful arms to break its neck.

  Her first prey.

  She felt elated, as she proceeded to rip it apart with her talons.

  She cleaned herself of the blood, afterwards. Rolling in the snow, until her fur was wet and clean. She still felt the taste of the fawn’s heart in her mouth.

  Belle was now complete, whole, perfect.

  She stretched her arms and threw back her head and let out a long, tearing howl, that echoed in the stillness of the park.

  A similar sound, but deeper, answered her call from the direction of the house.

  The Beast was home, she thought, and her heart jumped in her chest. A new lust filled her with anticipation, as she ran towards the house.

  Towards her mate.

  She wondered what fucking in the snow would feel like.

  About Tamara Vincent

  The thoroughly corrupt product of a strict Catholic education, Tamara Vincent (not her real name) discovered at an early age the twin passions for horror and erotica, by reading H.P. Lovecraft and Anais Nin back to back.

  After long years spent slaving as an accountant, she finally landed the perfect job for a smoking fetishist, and currently works at a tobacconist’s with her girlfriend.

  Writing naughty and creepy stories is her way to escape a dull day job, and pay for her (many) vices.

  If you like to read more or be kept up to date about Tamara wicked plans she holds a naughty blog at http://tamvin.blogspot.com/

  Would you like more Twisted Fantasies?

  Check out

  Cinder

  Cinderella would love to go to the Prince's ball, but her evil stepmother sequestered her at home.

  But if you cherish your dreams, you will find a way.

  And help is coming for Cinderella. Help that will change her looks and her outlook, turning her world around.

  And the Prince's ball will only be the beginning.

  Cinder is the first in a series of revised and corrected, naughty and corrupted fairy tales.

  Want more sexy transformations and naughtiness?

  Check out the long-lost first book of the Prism:

  Refractions: Beginnings

  "Quantum shifter.

  Explore the possibilities.

  Each decision we make sets us on a path towards the future. But what of the decision we did not take?

  Are they dead and buried, or are they, each one of them, the starting point of another universe, one in which we followed a different path, creating a new universe, a new version of ourselves, a different life.

  By quantically shifting the landscape brane of your local reality, Doctor Jaspers’ Quantum Shifter lets you experience the alternatives, opening up for you infinite universes of the self.

  Using photon-activated, neutrino-enhanced crystal lattice energy, the singularity at the core of the quantum shifter is your key to the Multiverse."

  Emily is just about to turn that key...

  Want some more?

  Turkish Delight

  a naughty story

  by Tamara Vincent’s

  A naughty story with a smoking fetish.

  What's happened to Tina, during her long vacation in Turkey?

  Jill no longer recognizes her friend. Once an uptight professional, Tina smokes, sleeps around, is cheerfully slutty and happily bisexual.

  Thrown out of her house by her mother, Tina crashes on Jill's couch. Now there are some changes ahead, in Jill's daily routine.

  Turkish Delight 2

  another naughty story

  by Tamara Vincent

  A forty-something single mother, Josephine's shattered when her daughter Tina starts acting like a full-fledged slut.

  But discovering what got into Tina might spell a lot of changes for Josephine too.

  And she's going to love each one of them.

  Or maybe you would something fast and fun?

  Why not try one of...

  Tamara Vincent’s Quickies

  The Idol

  A mysterious black idol found at a garage sale is about to turn Martha's life upside down.

  And she's going to enjoy every moment.

  Return of the Idol

  Lara and Christine don't see eye to eye.

  Can Maddie and Maggie help Lara and make Chris change her perspective?

  After all, that's what friends are for...