Beauty’s Beast

Warning: Sexual themed content



I have a good life. I really do. There is nothing about which I can complain. I am truly grateful indeed!

I have a spectacular castle, staff who are really more friends to me than staff; fine things, a massive library. I have more than enough that I need, well read and quite comfortable with my lot in life. 

 But I am truly in awe of my beautiful wife. She truly is a beauty...My Beauty. Heart of gold. She saved me. She loved me when I was not loveable. She moved into my heart and life and castle, and it has been the absolute best thing for me. 

She has befriended all our staff too.. She runs a tight ship though. She also insists on cooking herself to surprise and please me once in a while, even though we have quite a wonderful cook who creates masterful culinary creations, more art than meals really. But my Beauty likes meaningful things and also enjoys simple tastes. Sometimes she cooks cozy, romantic delicious meals for just the two of us to enjoy at the smaller kitchen table. They are delicious. She truly is a rare jewel.

I have never seen someone love like she does. The love she displayed for her father… (who had entered my castle to escape the weather, as I did not realize at the time when I locked him up in my anger) to take his place as a prisoner so he could be released, is truly remarkable. 

The love she has for me too… is breathtakingly remarkable. Her ability to love and see others as they truly are, and not at surface aesthetic visuals is something at which I am constantly amazed. She managed to love me when I was visually hideous so that the cursed spell broke that had turned me into a monster. Because of her love and the life that we have shared and started together, the townsfolk now see me as a gentle giant of a prince...a trustworthy friend and leader. Something that was missing from before in my arrogant bitter self and later as the hideous monstrosity of an animal into which I was turned due to the damned hex myself and the entire castle was under. I truly shake my head sometimes when I look into the mirror. While I was handsome before, now I am more approachable. It has something to do with the smile on my face now, I believe. 

She loves to read too. Love does not feel like a strong enough word to describe her feelings for books.. I have never encountered someone who absorbs and devours books the way she does. The library makes her so incredibly happy. She is often there organizing, twirling, and whirling about. I surprise her often with new books. She is ecstatic when I do that! Her face lights up and it makes me fall in love with her all over again. If books were another man, I would truly be jealous of them. But I know she loves me! 

The castle has her touches everywhere. It is beautiful and charming. I see her in every item and room and display of furniture. Everything is tidy, polished, and clean yet it also has a touch of a comfortable homey feel that was not present before when I was alone here with the staff.

Oh, and let me tell you…the staff, our friends, adore my Beauty. So much so, that she engages them in playful delightful tricks on me. They, too, have fallen in love with her. I have fallen for her ways of captivation…of batting her entrancing eyes to get what she wants too often because she is so adorable. Replace the parlor floor with shimmering blue tiles? Done. Build a swing outdoors so we can enjoy the sunsets together on the lawn? Done. Let the staff off early for the evening? Done. Let the orphans of a nearby village over for a tea party and round of hide and seek? Done. There is not anything I would not do for her. 

My Beauty is breathtakingly beautiful. She makes me feel so honored when she takes my arm when we attend balls or host them too. Her gowns are spectacular, and her hair is perfectly coiffed, and she truly looks like a picture of art. She floats and glides amongst our friends as if she has practiced her entire life to be the host of the year. She constantly makes everyone feel at ease and at home. 

I am never without displays of affection. Kisses and hugs for no reason fill my days at the castle and greet me when I return from the village or to engage in business with landowners. I marvel at how no matter if it is in the morning, or after seeing her at night after a long day returning home, she is perfectly beautiful. Not a hair out of place, her clothes immaculate and fit her well and her smile lights up the room.  

I can’t help thinking though, as I look at her day after day, that I long to uncoil her ravishing chestnut tresses and let them fall about her shoulders right in the middle of the day, not merely behind a closed bedroom door or at night. I would pull her towards me and kiss her passionately,longingly, urgently. I would nibble her neck, perhaps biting her ears playfully. Letting her know that I am fully aware of all she has underneath her gowns and camisoles and lacy underthings. I would welcome us ravaging each other's bodies in unusual places or times. This thought consumes me.  

Don’t get me wrong. She and I are not starving in a passionate sense. We love with all our hearts, our minds and our bodies. But alas, like everything else in the castle, this too has a place. Yet I can’t help but wonder and yearn.

Like I said, I am grateful. I am truly in love and am loved. I have nothing to complain about.

One day, however, I returned to the castle from my business across several miles at a landowner’s homestead. As I walked into the castle, the front parlor landing was not occupied by one of our staff. There wasn’t anyone to see or greet me. 

Odd…I thought.

I walk and peek into the kitchen. Even the cook was absent. I go back into the parlor. I hang up my coat. I walk back down another hall. It is lit with flickering candles all along the way. I duck my head into rooms looking for anyone, but mostly looking for my Beauty. Quite frankly, I was starting to panic.  

Where could everyone be?  

Rounding the corner, there… standing in another hall, seductively leaning up against a mini table, was my Beauty. Dressed in one of my old work shirts, she is barefoot. Her hair was pulled from its pins, delightfully disarrayed and swirling enchantingly around her neck, shoulders and down the mere glimpse of cleavage I could just see underneath my shirt that she is enchantingly molded to.

I quickly step forward and into her arms. I devour her lips and run my fingers in her hair. She pulls away and grabs my hand.  

“I gave the staff the rest of the day off. I hope that is ok?” Beauty asks.

Nodding and with my still hand grasping hers, I follow her, mesmerized. She tugs me down the hall. Walking past our bedroom, she continues down the hall, stops, and then pulls me into the library.  

Twirling around, with my hand still in hers, I notice then that it appears she is not wearing anything at all underneath my old work shirt. I broke out into the biggest grin as I knew what this could mean…  

 A low guttural, husky growl escapes my mouth.   

I was, afterall...a beast.