Beauty Submits To Her Beast (2 page)

He lifted a brow. “Who is Belle?”

Bryce laughed. “Need to freshen up on your bedtime stories, bro. Belle from
Beauty and the Beast
.”

For a long moment, Damon held his friend’s gaze, aware of the ironic mirroring of his life to that fairytale. His glanced back at the photo.
Shit
. She was definitely a beauty, and he himself was pretty beastly these days, a wounded war hero according to government. Curious despite himself, he grabbed his cooling coffee and snagged the folder. He took a sip and opened the file. And choked as he swallowed.

A picture of Caitlin, wearing a skimpy bustier, greeted him. “Fuck!” His breath caught in his throat as he stared at a much different image of her. She was leaning against a tall bedpost, hands over her head, wrists tied with a scarf. Her tits were bare, the nipples a deep, rosy red and puckered, begging for a man to suck and lick. But what had his heart pounding and his dick stirring was the way she rested one foot on the bed, revealing her dark mound with just a hint of pink showing.

“Damn.” His gaze shifted from her body to her face. The pose was supposed to be inviting, sexy and enticing, yet the uncertainty lurking in those large, expressive cat-like eyes spoke to a part of him he thought long dead.

Damon glanced from Bryce to Glorie, then stared at Caitlin Olsen. It’d be a cold day in hell before he allowed another Dom to introduce her to the BDSM lifestyle.

****

Three weeks later

“Caitlin Olsen, what the hell are you doing?” Caitie stared at herself in the mirror. She wore a low cut blue dress with a white apron and matching blue and white feathered mask. The woman staring back at her was a stranger. She was dressed as though she were on her way to a Halloween party, except she’d never wear anything so revealing in public.

The fabric of the dress was practically sheer. Thank god for the apron in the front, but there was no hiding her dark, pouty tips. If that wasn’t bad enough, the bodice was so low, if she sneezed, her girls would bounce right out. She tugged at the elastic neckline, tried to tuck herself in more securely, but the design was meant to reveal, not cover.

She bit her lower lip and whirled around in front of the mirror to eye the back of her dress. The points of the handkerchief hem swirled just below her ass. In the bright light, she could see the outline of her butt. Per instructions, she wore no bra. She flushed. And no panties. “Shit. Hope you don’t have to bend over, Caitie-girl.”

From a pocket in her apron, she drew a thick, creamy-yellow invitation. A banner style logo stretched across the top. In the center, an embossed, metallic blue castle gleamed with the words
The Kingdom of Dom
in a fancy, swirly script. She scanned the invite.

You are hereby invited to Pleasure Manor for a weekend of pure pleasure.

Pure pleasure. She shivered with anticipation. She was thirty, yet she was as excited as a horny teen. Sex hadn’t been part of her life for far too many years. She’d been too busy raising her much younger siblings and caring for her invalid mother. Now she was on her own.

She didn’t have time to date, and online dating services weren’t for her. Too risky. Besides, her ranch, For the Love of Horses, took most of her time and energy. She had her pick of men. One couldn’t own a ranch without lots of hunky, brawny men to help work it, but she had a rule. No sex with the hired hands, no matter how good-looking. Too many complications. She’d learned that miserable lesson the hard way. So she’d allowed her friend to talk her into trying a weekend BDSM role-play.

With a complete stranger.

She let out a groan.

A stranger. What had she been thinking?

No strings. No emotional involvements. No jealousy and no tantrums.

Her last boyfriend had worked for her and had been jealous of the men on the ranch, yet any time they went to a bar, he’d flirt outrageously with the waitresses and barmaids. She’d lost too many hired hands due to fights and threats before she’d broken up with Larry and kicked his two-timing ass off her ranch.

And now, here she was in a mansion called Pleasure Manor where orgasms were handed out like candy on Halloween, according to her good friend. It wasn’t Halloween, but the event had sounded like fun, so here she was, eager to gather a bagful of goodies. Except she was hiding in the ladies’ lounge with her second thoughts.

She studied her costume. For the next three days, if she didn’t chicken out, she was Belle. But who was the Beast she’d agreed to submit to in return for sex?

She laughed. No one who knew her would ever call her a submissive woman. She wasn’t some wimp eager to play doormat to any man, nor was she the type to jump into bed with a stranger. Lord knew, she hated bar hopping with her friend Maize. She shuddered. Too many slimy creeps out there. So what was she doing here?

Both Bryce and Glorie, the host and hostess of the event had suggested that she had a deep, inner need to be submissive, to give up control in one area of her life. She rolled her eyes as she finger-combed her hair. She didn’t think so, yet she’d agreed to submit to this man as though she were his sex slave.

“Sex. Slave.” A hum of desire swam through her bloodstream like an alligator sliding into the river to hunt prey. Since signing up for the event, she’d had lots of fantasies of her dream hunk driving her wild and giving her one orgasm after another. An arrow of lust set off the throbbing deep in her center. Damn, she was wet just thinking about it.

The door to the lounge opened. A woman in a black uniform with a white apron poked her head inside. “Hey, you’d better get in there with the others.”

Caitie whirled around, relieved to see her friend. “Good God, Maize,” she said. “I must have been crazy to let you talk me into this? I don’t know anything about this BDSM stuff. Or being submissive.”

Not beyond what she’d researched on-line. She pressed her fist into her stomach to still the sick, panicking feeling welling up inside. “I’ve never even read
Fifty Shades of Grey
.” But listening to her friend go on and on about how wonderful it was to hand over control to a man and get pleasured in returned made her long to experience what Maize referred to as the incredible and never-ending weekend of orgasms.

Maize flounced into the room, her short, black skirt bouncing. “You’ll love it, Caitie. Give your Dom a chance. Just think about the wild and kinky sex and lots and lots of delicious orgasms.”

Pacing, Caitie chewed her lower lip. “It’s the kinky sex I’m worried about.” She whirled around. “I don’t know this guy, not even his name.”

The maid grinned. “Identities are protected. That’s why everyone wears masks.”

“You’re not wearing a mask.”

She giggled. “That’s ’cause I’m part of the staff.”

Caitie narrowed her eyes, stepped back, and crossed her arms, then groaned when one breast popped out of her top. She adjusted the neckline. “Why aren’t you participating if this is so much fun?”

Maize preened in front of the mirror. “Who said I’m not?” She wagged her brows. “Have you any idea what pleasures that butler can give an innocent maid in the pantry, girlfriend?”

She held up her hand. “Don’t tell me. Don’t need to know.”

“Come on. You best join the others.”

With one last glance in the mirror, Caitie followed Maize to a formal parlor.

“Have fun, Belle.” Her friend closed the door behind her.

Chapter Two

Caitie clasped her hands in front of her, pressing her fists into her stomach to still the nervous fluttering. She had a choice. Stick with the plan or run like hell. She took stock of her surroundings. She’d never seen such a richly appointed room. Everything sparkled or glittered. Antiques, gilt frames, and even a baby grand in the corner all spoke of wealth. Tall windows along one wall let in light and kept the room from being dark and oppressive. A pair of French doors stood open to allow the warm, afternoon breeze to enter.

It took her a moment to realize guys were on one side of the room and the women on the other. No mingling. Her gaze swept over the men, and damn, if her temperature didn’t spike at the sight of so many hunky bodies on display. Some of them were covered from neck to shoes in rich, velveteen tunics and pants and appeared quite princely and commanding while others were attired in very little. She stared at a man wearing in a wolfish mask. Her eyes lowered. He wore a form-fitting leather glove over his huge dick. She barely swallowed her gasp of shock but couldn’t stop her face from burning with embarrassment.

OMG. That was one prime hunk. Was he her beast? She could get on board having him for the next few days, but then she noticed his attention was wholly focused on a woman in a red dress and cape. Okay, Red and her Wolf. She got that.

She continued her perusal of the weekend’s offerings. At the end of the line, three men huddled together. Like a moth drawn to a dangerous flame, she eyed the first who stood with his back to her. Her gaze slid down to his naked, white-as-snow ass.
Oh, ick.
His ass sagged, reminding her of an overinflated balloon that had lost its air. She resisted the urge to slap her hands over her eyes. Barely.

The second had a nice butt. He turned toward her. He wore a furry mask, a studded collar, and leather straps that formed a harness over his pale chest. He was rail thin, had the start of a potbelly, and oh, sweet Jesus, just a bit of cloth to hide his crotch. He grinned at her. She nearly screamed and ran from the room like a frightened schoolgirl. The third wasn’t bad. He had a nice bum, at least, but was way too hairy for her.

God, not him. Please not him or the other two with him
.
If I have to have sex with a stranger, please let him be a man in good, physical shape
.

“You’re new, aren’t you?”

So engrossed, or rather, so grossed out, Caitie hadn’t heard the woman approach. She smiled. “How can you tell?” Her voice sounded high and choked.

Her companion laughed, grabbed her arm, and then led her to the other end of the room. “I’m Rapunzel. Come join us.” She leaned close. “We’re feasting on the men from down here. Well, some of them.”

Appreciating the humor, Caitie eyed the woman’s long, blonde hair. It fell like a sheet of molten gold past her butt. She smiled. “They going to lock you in one of those turrets?”

“I sure hope so.” She indicated a woman in a silky, sexy white nightgown. “This is Wendy.”

“Ah, your partner is Peter Pan.”

“Nope. Captain Hook.” She tossed her dark, blonde head and jerked her chin toward a man wearing an elaborate eye patch
that masked half his face
.

Caitie let out a low sound of appreciation. “He does look like a strong seafaring captain.” The man’s shoulders were broad, his waist narrow. He wore a leather vest that hung open and leather pants and boots. He had a magnificent chest. Aware of the women staring at him, he shoved his hands onto his hips and planted his feet apart.

“Don’t see his hook,” she whispered.

Wendy giggled. “Not looking in the right spot. Lower, sweetie. All he has to do is whip that bad boy out, and he’s hooked me.”

The women laughed. Rapunzel nudged the other woman in their group. “This is Goldilocks. Goldie here is going to have fun with her three bears.”

“Three? At once?” Caitie blushed when everyone laughed at her shocked expression.

“Hell, yes.” The mask didn’t hide the gleam in her eyes.

“Definitely a newbie,” a dry voice inserted.

Caitie glanced at the newcomer and met the amused gaze of a woman wearing a black mask and skimpy, black bustier. The woman swished her riding crop against her black stockings and lifted a brow.

“
Evil Fairy from
Sleeping Beauty
,” the woman in black introduced herself.

Rapunzel grinned and leaned close. “She’s a Domme. She’s going to be doing the spanking this weekend.”

“Spanking?” Caitie’s voice rose to a squeak. No one said anything about spankings. She eyed the crop.
Or whips
.

“And a whole lot of riding.” The evil fairy smiled fiercely.

The women around Caitie chuckled. She gave a weak smile. Maize had some explaining to do. In the meantime, she’d make it clear to her partner that there would be no pain. None. Zip. Zero.

The Domme ran the tip of her riding crop across the tops of Caitie’s breasts. “And you are…Sleeping Beauty?”

“No. Belle.”

“Ah.” The evil fairy scanned the men. “Don’t see your beast.”

“There is that wickedly delicious wolf there.” Rapunzel licked her lips.

“I believe he has his little playmate already.” The evil fairy indicated the woman in the red satin cloak.

Once again, Caitie tried to guess which of the deliciously sexy men was hers as she listened to the banter of the women. As more people joined the participants, Caitie and the others made a game of guessing what role each would play and which hunk belonged to which woman.

She’d pegged Red Riding Hood and Cinderella. And blushed when Mary and Little Bo Peep entered. If she thought her costume revealing, Bo’s skirt was nonexistent in the back and she wore only a red thong. And what a relief that the two women boldly claimed the three men huddled together like a flock of sheep. Caitie thanked the gods that they were taken out of the running.

She scanned the room again and noted that people were getting restless. Anticipation and lust filled the air. “What are we waiting for?”

“For the queen, of course,” Rapunzel said.

At that moment, the doors opened and the butler stepped inside to announce, “Queen Grimhilde.”