Disney Kink: Belle/Gaston, LeFou
Prompt: "Gaston/Belle, non-con, LeFou watching"
Original request: http://community.livejournal.com/disney_kink/361.html?thread=1782121
Disclaimer: I do not have any creative, financial, or legal rights to the characters in this story.
LeFou knew how Gaston saw him… faithful, loyal, dumb. His main charm lay in the fact that he reminded Gaston of a dog his family had once owned. The stupid animal had met his end under the wheels of Gaston’s father’s cart. The man LeFou worshipped, only a boy at the time, in fact just starting his morning egg routine, had sorely missed the mongrel. The village girls had liked petting the dog almost as much as they liked to touch the sprouting hair on his owner’s chest. Of course all the children in the village knew about the goings-on of everyone else’s families. LeFou had paid particular attention to any news of Gaston and his family. Even then, he had admired him.
As with any other faithful canine, Gaston had no qualms about asking LeFou to do any low deed, and had no doubts in his ability to follow his orders. In the same manner, there was never a point to shooing him from a room for any personal business. Pets don’t count as observers.
LeFou had seen more of Gaston’s life than anyone. Maybe even Gaston, who he had always helped into bed at the end of a particularly long night of drinking. He learned to listen carefully to Gaston’s slurred declarations in order to more fully anticipate his needs later, when the man was sober. He knew how to use those quiet minutes. He would take his time undressing Gaston, letting his fingers slide over solid muscle as he tugged off his boots, his belt, his shirt. Sometimes, when Gaston was completely unconscious, he even dared to smell his skin. LeFou would then leave the room in a hurry, telling himself that these desires were not who he really was. Gaston was not the only attractive face in the village, after all.
LeFou knew that he would never have Belle. She was all beauty and softness, and stood for everything he didn’t. He lusted after her, yet he feared her. Gaston was different. He always got what he wanted. The day Belle refused to marry him in front of the town, shaming him and leaving him to squelch home with mud in his boots, he decided to finally take it.
LeFou accompanied him that night to act as lookout. It was easy to snatch the girl from her room in the dark, with her father noisily occupied in his shed, and no one else around. Gaston grinned as he strode out of the cottage. His prize, gagged, bound, and struggling uselessly, was slung over his shoulder. He marched away, knowing LeFou would follow at his heels. Belle, her brown hair a mess from sleep but still silky, fell down Gaston’s strong back. Her simple nightdress was little more than a cotton shift, and LeFou had never seen so much of a lady’s legs before. Once they neared Gaston’s isolated home, where he was sure no one would hear her, the hunter began to grope her soft backside. She began to scream and thrash, but her form was slight compared to Gaston’s hulking masculinity and he barely noticed.
Once inside, his dropped the stolen girl onto his bed. LeFou did what was expected of him. He handed Gaston the thin length of rope and quietly left the room. Gaston was so engrossed in Belle’s wriggling body that he did not bother to dismiss LeFou, taking for granted that he would leave. LeFou slunk from the room, but instead of closing the door, he left it open just enough to have a clear view of the entire bed. From that vantage point he stood in the doorway as he watched, eyes wide.
Belle was becoming increasingly frantic. Her eyes were huge as she stared around the room, which consisted of little more than a double bed and Gaston’s trophies. LeFou didn’t understand why the sight of the dead, mounted game would upset her more than Gaston’s body stretched on top of her, but that did seem to be the case. Gaston used his weight to pin her while he tied both of her wrists together with the rope, then wound the rest of the rope through the decorative gap in the headboard. Gaston was not foolish enough to leave the hands of the notoriously clever girl unbound. His skill in the art of tying up desperate animals paid off, and it was not long before he shifted his weight and hauled himself up above her. He planted his knees on either side of her thighs and smugly viewed his captured prize. LeFou, fascinated, looked at her unrestricted breasts jiggling and shaking beneath her thin shift as she tested her bonds. Gaston yanked the gag from her mouth. LeFou could see the bugle in his pants grow greater as she moved her jaw and luscious, full lips back into their normal position after the large gag we removed. The gag appeared to be a rolled-up sock.
Once she could speak, she threatened angrily, “Let me go, Gaston! You’ll never get away with this!”
Gaston’s grin widened. “Poor Belle. Just as demented as her crazy father. Imagining things… nobody will believe you.”
She raged, “My father’s not crazy!” LeFou had to admire her dedication, but at the moment, he admired her creamy skin more. As she struggled, her nightdress rode up higher and higher, revealing more of her smooth thighs. Gaston laughed heartily. LeFou recognized his victory laugh. Nothing stood in his way any longer.
Gaston lazily climbed off the bed and began to strip. He started with his shirt. His back was to LeFou, who spent a few moment absorbed in his rippling physique and the dark ahir that covered it. Belle suddenly seemed to fully realize her position and began to scream at the top of her lungs. Gaston and LeFou both ignored her. Strangely, not that anything about the girl wasn’t strange, the more of Gaston’s skin that was revealed, the quieter she became. He understood her shocked silence when Gaston finally tugged off his undergarment. From years of sneaking looks, LeFou knew Gaston’s cock to be bigger and wider than average, and he was willing to bet that Belle had never seen a man naked. He imagined that magnificent cock springing free and watched Gaston’s backside as he stood in all his glory. He leaned down and unceremoniously put a hand up Belle’s nightdress. She whimpered and clamped her legs together, but Gaston had little trouble prying them open enough to push his hand between her inner thighs. “Hmm,” he grunted thoughtfully, “You need to be wetter, pretty Belle. You’d leave blood all over my sheets if I ploughed you now. I could get you some mud, like the kind you pushed me into today… but then I’d have to leave you here all alone. Can’t have that. And there are other ways.” Belle began screaming, “Get your hands off me!” LeFou knew that the spirited little filly would have gone on like that forever, but Gaston’s patience snapped and he jammed the rolled-up sock back into her mouth. She tried to get it out, but it was no use. LeFou didn’t know if it was a clean sock or not, but Belle soon renewed her struggles for a different reason. With no further warning Gaston reached under his bed. When he came back up one of his many hunting knives was in his hand, and before Belle had a moment to process it, he was using the knife to slice her nightdress apart from hem to armpit on both sides. He tossed the rags away and leaned back to survey her.
If LeFou hadn’t been fully hard before, her certainly was now. Belle’s nude body was the most divine thing he had ever seen. Her breasts were round with pointed, delicate tips. Years of housework and clean living had given her muscles a slight tone, her belly mostly flat and her hips wide enough to be graspable. Gaston began to roughly grope her body, squeezing her breasts, his hands big enough to fully cover the mounds of flesh. He didn’t spend as much time there as LeFou would have liked- as usual, the man thought with his second head. Belle squirmed ineffectually, but Gaston held his body over hers so that each time she bucked her hips, the flesh between her legs touched Gaston’s fully hard member. It didn’t take her long to catch on to the reason for Gaston’s grunts of pleasure, and she forced herself to stop moving. Gaston’s disappointed face vanished almost as quickly as LeFou could recognize the expression. Gaston levered himself up again and used on hand to push down on her belly to hold her in place, while the other hands touched Belle’s most sacred flesh again. As far as LeFou could tell, Gaston seemed to be making a repetitive motion using his thumb and index finger. LeFou didn’t know much about female anatomy, but whatever he was doing was making Belle pant and sweat even through her agonized, humiliated expression. A few minutes of this and Belle was shaking and involuntarily spreading her legs, pushing herself onto his hand. LeFou jumped in surprise at the same time as Belle when Gaston unexpectedly shoved two fingers into her. This time, they seemed to slide in, and was buried to the knuckles in her. The tear rolling down her face reminded LeFou that she was not there of her own free will. In being pulled from her pleasure, he realized that he had spent the last few minutes with his hand shoved down the front of his pants, playing with himself.
Gaston smirked at Belle, pulled out his hand without a word, and positioned himself over her. Belle’s pleas were muffled by the gag, but the sound of them caused LeFou’s cock to leak and slick his hand as he handled it. Gaston lifted Belle’s hips and chuckled gloatingly, just to let her know that he had won. The sound of his deep voice almost made LeFou gasp in bliss.
Belle screamed into her gag as Gaston broke through all of her barriers with one stroke. Not a second later he was pounding into her, hard and ruthless. LeFou watched his hips work and imagined himself on his hands and knees, the hunter driving into him from behind. Then he looked at the brown curls on belle’s mound and put himself in Gaston’s place, driving into her like a man should take a woman. Gaston went faster and faster until finally his body tensed and he held onto her tightly, buried deep inside. Belle began to cry harder. He pulled free of her with a sound like a boot unsticking from wet mud and let her fall to the bed, a stain of pinkish-red and white fluid staining the sheet beneath her. LeFou let go of the breath he had been holding. His hand was sticky from when he had lost control in the throes of Gaston’s passion, his soft cry unheeded as the man continued to violate Belle.
Gaston gave Belle a satisfied smile. Unhurried, he put his hand on her freshly-broken folds and fondled them a little. She moaned and rolled her hips, still aching for him and looking shamed by it. Gaston yanked his arm away, leaving her legs open wide and thighs twitching with exertion. “The girl doesn’t need to finish, Belle.” He informed her wickedly. He laughed as he wiped his hand on the bedsheet.
LeFou knew the plan was for Gaston to deflower the inventor’s daughter, then get her back to her home as soon as possible. He snuck out of Gaston’s house hastily to avoid getting caught. Once outside he ran home, away from the most thrilling time of his life, the sound of Belle’s sobs fading behind him.
Original request: http://community.livejournal.com/disney_kink/361.html?thread=1782121
Disclaimer: I do not have any creative, financial, or legal rights to the characters in this story.
LeFou knew how Gaston saw him… faithful, loyal, dumb. His main charm lay in the fact that he reminded Gaston of a dog his family had once owned. The stupid animal had met his end under the wheels of Gaston’s father’s cart. The man LeFou worshipped, only a boy at the time, in fact just starting his morning egg routine, had sorely missed the mongrel. The village girls had liked petting the dog almost as much as they liked to touch the sprouting hair on his owner’s chest. Of course all the children in the village knew about the goings-on of everyone else’s families. LeFou had paid particular attention to any news of Gaston and his family. Even then, he had admired him.
As with any other faithful canine, Gaston had no qualms about asking LeFou to do any low deed, and had no doubts in his ability to follow his orders. In the same manner, there was never a point to shooing him from a room for any personal business. Pets don’t count as observers.
LeFou had seen more of Gaston’s life than anyone. Maybe even Gaston, who he had always helped into bed at the end of a particularly long night of drinking. He learned to listen carefully to Gaston’s slurred declarations in order to more fully anticipate his needs later, when the man was sober. He knew how to use those quiet minutes. He would take his time undressing Gaston, letting his fingers slide over solid muscle as he tugged off his boots, his belt, his shirt. Sometimes, when Gaston was completely unconscious, he even dared to smell his skin. LeFou would then leave the room in a hurry, telling himself that these desires were not who he really was. Gaston was not the only attractive face in the village, after all.
LeFou knew that he would never have Belle. She was all beauty and softness, and stood for everything he didn’t. He lusted after her, yet he feared her. Gaston was different. He always got what he wanted. The day Belle refused to marry him in front of the town, shaming him and leaving him to squelch home with mud in his boots, he decided to finally take it.
LeFou accompanied him that night to act as lookout. It was easy to snatch the girl from her room in the dark, with her father noisily occupied in his shed, and no one else around. Gaston grinned as he strode out of the cottage. His prize, gagged, bound, and struggling uselessly, was slung over his shoulder. He marched away, knowing LeFou would follow at his heels. Belle, her brown hair a mess from sleep but still silky, fell down Gaston’s strong back. Her simple nightdress was little more than a cotton shift, and LeFou had never seen so much of a lady’s legs before. Once they neared Gaston’s isolated home, where he was sure no one would hear her, the hunter began to grope her soft backside. She began to scream and thrash, but her form was slight compared to Gaston’s hulking masculinity and he barely noticed.
Once inside, his dropped the stolen girl onto his bed. LeFou did what was expected of him. He handed Gaston the thin length of rope and quietly left the room. Gaston was so engrossed in Belle’s wriggling body that he did not bother to dismiss LeFou, taking for granted that he would leave. LeFou slunk from the room, but instead of closing the door, he left it open just enough to have a clear view of the entire bed. From that vantage point he stood in the doorway as he watched, eyes wide.
Belle was becoming increasingly frantic. Her eyes were huge as she stared around the room, which consisted of little more than a double bed and Gaston’s trophies. LeFou didn’t understand why the sight of the dead, mounted game would upset her more than Gaston’s body stretched on top of her, but that did seem to be the case. Gaston used his weight to pin her while he tied both of her wrists together with the rope, then wound the rest of the rope through the decorative gap in the headboard. Gaston was not foolish enough to leave the hands of the notoriously clever girl unbound. His skill in the art of tying up desperate animals paid off, and it was not long before he shifted his weight and hauled himself up above her. He planted his knees on either side of her thighs and smugly viewed his captured prize. LeFou, fascinated, looked at her unrestricted breasts jiggling and shaking beneath her thin shift as she tested her bonds. Gaston yanked the gag from her mouth. LeFou could see the bugle in his pants grow greater as she moved her jaw and luscious, full lips back into their normal position after the large gag we removed. The gag appeared to be a rolled-up sock.
Once she could speak, she threatened angrily, “Let me go, Gaston! You’ll never get away with this!”
Gaston’s grin widened. “Poor Belle. Just as demented as her crazy father. Imagining things… nobody will believe you.”
She raged, “My father’s not crazy!” LeFou had to admire her dedication, but at the moment, he admired her creamy skin more. As she struggled, her nightdress rode up higher and higher, revealing more of her smooth thighs. Gaston laughed heartily. LeFou recognized his victory laugh. Nothing stood in his way any longer.
Gaston lazily climbed off the bed and began to strip. He started with his shirt. His back was to LeFou, who spent a few moment absorbed in his rippling physique and the dark ahir that covered it. Belle suddenly seemed to fully realize her position and began to scream at the top of her lungs. Gaston and LeFou both ignored her. Strangely, not that anything about the girl wasn’t strange, the more of Gaston’s skin that was revealed, the quieter she became. He understood her shocked silence when Gaston finally tugged off his undergarment. From years of sneaking looks, LeFou knew Gaston’s cock to be bigger and wider than average, and he was willing to bet that Belle had never seen a man naked. He imagined that magnificent cock springing free and watched Gaston’s backside as he stood in all his glory. He leaned down and unceremoniously put a hand up Belle’s nightdress. She whimpered and clamped her legs together, but Gaston had little trouble prying them open enough to push his hand between her inner thighs. “Hmm,” he grunted thoughtfully, “You need to be wetter, pretty Belle. You’d leave blood all over my sheets if I ploughed you now. I could get you some mud, like the kind you pushed me into today… but then I’d have to leave you here all alone. Can’t have that. And there are other ways.” Belle began screaming, “Get your hands off me!” LeFou knew that the spirited little filly would have gone on like that forever, but Gaston’s patience snapped and he jammed the rolled-up sock back into her mouth. She tried to get it out, but it was no use. LeFou didn’t know if it was a clean sock or not, but Belle soon renewed her struggles for a different reason. With no further warning Gaston reached under his bed. When he came back up one of his many hunting knives was in his hand, and before Belle had a moment to process it, he was using the knife to slice her nightdress apart from hem to armpit on both sides. He tossed the rags away and leaned back to survey her.
If LeFou hadn’t been fully hard before, her certainly was now. Belle’s nude body was the most divine thing he had ever seen. Her breasts were round with pointed, delicate tips. Years of housework and clean living had given her muscles a slight tone, her belly mostly flat and her hips wide enough to be graspable. Gaston began to roughly grope her body, squeezing her breasts, his hands big enough to fully cover the mounds of flesh. He didn’t spend as much time there as LeFou would have liked- as usual, the man thought with his second head. Belle squirmed ineffectually, but Gaston held his body over hers so that each time she bucked her hips, the flesh between her legs touched Gaston’s fully hard member. It didn’t take her long to catch on to the reason for Gaston’s grunts of pleasure, and she forced herself to stop moving. Gaston’s disappointed face vanished almost as quickly as LeFou could recognize the expression. Gaston levered himself up again and used on hand to push down on her belly to hold her in place, while the other hands touched Belle’s most sacred flesh again. As far as LeFou could tell, Gaston seemed to be making a repetitive motion using his thumb and index finger. LeFou didn’t know much about female anatomy, but whatever he was doing was making Belle pant and sweat even through her agonized, humiliated expression. A few minutes of this and Belle was shaking and involuntarily spreading her legs, pushing herself onto his hand. LeFou jumped in surprise at the same time as Belle when Gaston unexpectedly shoved two fingers into her. This time, they seemed to slide in, and was buried to the knuckles in her. The tear rolling down her face reminded LeFou that she was not there of her own free will. In being pulled from her pleasure, he realized that he had spent the last few minutes with his hand shoved down the front of his pants, playing with himself.
Gaston smirked at Belle, pulled out his hand without a word, and positioned himself over her. Belle’s pleas were muffled by the gag, but the sound of them caused LeFou’s cock to leak and slick his hand as he handled it. Gaston lifted Belle’s hips and chuckled gloatingly, just to let her know that he had won. The sound of his deep voice almost made LeFou gasp in bliss.
Belle screamed into her gag as Gaston broke through all of her barriers with one stroke. Not a second later he was pounding into her, hard and ruthless. LeFou watched his hips work and imagined himself on his hands and knees, the hunter driving into him from behind. Then he looked at the brown curls on belle’s mound and put himself in Gaston’s place, driving into her like a man should take a woman. Gaston went faster and faster until finally his body tensed and he held onto her tightly, buried deep inside. Belle began to cry harder. He pulled free of her with a sound like a boot unsticking from wet mud and let her fall to the bed, a stain of pinkish-red and white fluid staining the sheet beneath her. LeFou let go of the breath he had been holding. His hand was sticky from when he had lost control in the throes of Gaston’s passion, his soft cry unheeded as the man continued to violate Belle.
Gaston gave Belle a satisfied smile. Unhurried, he put his hand on her freshly-broken folds and fondled them a little. She moaned and rolled her hips, still aching for him and looking shamed by it. Gaston yanked his arm away, leaving her legs open wide and thighs twitching with exertion. “The girl doesn’t need to finish, Belle.” He informed her wickedly. He laughed as he wiped his hand on the bedsheet.
LeFou knew the plan was for Gaston to deflower the inventor’s daughter, then get her back to her home as soon as possible. He snuck out of Gaston’s house hastily to avoid getting caught. Once outside he ran home, away from the most thrilling time of his life, the sound of Belle’s sobs fading behind him.