So, The Enchantress just chucks the Rose and the Mirror at Beast and then buzzed off? ...Or did she? What if she visited Beast to see her magic at work, maybe urging Beast to try earn his freedom... You know, the smutty way?
The scent of her filled his nostrils. She smelled of milk and honey and rose petals and the wetness between her legs. The Beast was at her thighs now, and he dragged his tongue slowly up towards her hips. She placed her hand on his cheek, petting, caressing, making soft mummers. The Beast could smell her desire. She was smooth-shaven and he could see drops of moisture gathering inches from his face. In the past, he had tried to resist his body's response, tried to think of anything but her dark skin and moist cunt, tried to ignore the blood rushing to his groink. He tried picturing the hag, he tried picturing himself as she had made him. But the Enchantress had made his body, and she knew his wants. She knew what made him hard, what made him groan, and what made his face burn with shame and anger even as he begged her for more
( ... )
What he really wanted was dominance, to take control, to taker her as the master of a castle would. She should be on her back below him, her shear robe in shreds. She should be begging., her arms pinned to the floor, her legs spread wide as he filled her. He had done this before, overpowered her, but she had only laughed as he fucked her, called him a savage and an animal as she came. It had only been the illusion of control; and when he had his release, she threw him off of her with a blast of magic. He had sacrificed his freedom for a quick fuck. She then conjured a mirror and made himself stare at his reflection while she fondled his spent, sore cock
( ... )
“Lick me,” she ordered and he obeyed. It was not enough for her. The Enchantress whipped his shoulders with the stem of the rose like a jockey urging on her horse. His tongue filled her and she moaned. She wrapped her legs around him and her chair tipped back slightly. He grabbed the legs to brace it, trying to ignore the way her heels dug into his neck and the way his cock throbbed. He could tip the chair back, take the upper hand. He could be on top of her in seconds. She would not stop him, she never did. She would wait until he had finished, until he had spent his lust and rage. Only then would she remind him of his failure with mocking laughter. He would not give her the satisfaction. Not tonight. There were so few petals left on the rose in the West Wing. How many more opportunities would he have? No, better to humble himself, to be her dog now so that he could be a man again after
( ... )
“Beg me,” she said, then took a second finger in her mouth. She lowered herself into him, resting herself lightly against his cock, so that her clit kissed it's head each time he rose and shuddered, pulling back before he could enter. Again and again she did this, and he felt the pressure building. He was covered in the smell of her juices, covered in her desire. She wanted it too. But he couldn't, not unless he ordered him to
( ... )
Re: The Test Part 5a_qAugust 19 2015, 17:20:24 UTC
I'm sorry it took me so long to reply and thank you so much for writing this, what an amazing story! I love the tension you build between Beast and Enchantress, and the delicous mix of teasing and punishment - lovely! This is amazing, scorching hot story, and thank you again for writing it :)
So, The Enchantress just chucks the Rose and the Mirror at Beast and then buzzed off?
...Or did she? What if she visited Beast to see her magic at work, maybe urging Beast to try earn his freedom... You know, the smutty way?
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This is amazing, scorching hot story, and thank you again for writing it :)
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I am super proud of this story, it's probably the most work I've ever put into a piece of smut. So glad you like it.
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