The Heart of The Beast: A romantic adult fairytale revealing how the power of love can overcome the hardest heart. Susan Kohler
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hands grasped behind her back by one of the Beast’s hands while his other hand punished her.
It was a long, sharp spanking. She screamed and squealed as his hand descended rapidly and harshly on her bare bottom. A loud crack accompanied each quick slap. The punishment was causing a pink blush to spread quickly all over her pale skin. Her flesh jiggled slightly under each separate spank. Soon, even the pink blush began to take on a darker hue, turning cherry red. When her whole bottom was fiery and hot and she was crying like a baby, she heard the command repeated.
“Get dressed, go down and tell one of the servants to prepare my bath. Then go to the kitchen and tell them I’m awake and to start preparation of the morning meal. Come back straight away and help me bathe or I’ll spank you again, and this time I’ll make sure your bottom is so red you can’t sit down,” the Beast was implacable.
“Yes, M’lord.” She scurried to obey, pausing only to quickly rub her throbbing, sore bottom.
The Beast watched with relish as she rubbed her tender red butt while trying to avoid his eyes.
“Hurry girl, or do you want some more?” he growled, amused. “You seem to find that wee taste of a slappin’ so interesting.”
Wee taste indeed, she thought as she quickly pulled on her torn gown, my whole bottom hurts and I’ll not want to sit down for a long while. Does he think I’m still a young girl to be thus punished? Although as a young child she’d had much longer and harsher spankings, as an adult she felt above such things. I’ll get revenge on you yet my fine lord, she thought.
As he watched her practically run from the room, the Beast thought to himself: Who would have thought a wee bit of a lass could be so amusing and could pleasure me so much. It might be worth it to keep this chit of a girl around for a bit.
Beauty practically ran into the kitchen, struggling as she held the shreds of her gown together. She called out to a servant to help her find the maid, Gwyneth.
“Quick, Gwyneth, I need your help,” she told the maid. “The Beast is up and growling.”
“Don’t ye call him the Beast in front of me, lass.” Gwyneth rebuked Beauty sharply although she was secretly pleased to realize that the lass’ spirit was not yet broken.
“I’ve already got things ready for him,” she told Beauty. “Milord’s bathwater is already boiling. I’ll tell the lads to take it up. His meal is almost ready for him to break his fast.”
“Thank you, Gwyneth,” Beauty told the older woman with a shy grin. “Truly, I meant no disrespect earlier when I called him the Beast. He really did seem to be growling this morning.”
“He must be very tired then, as sometimes he’s in such a mood when he fails to get enough sleep,” the older woman grinned. “Was it from poking you so often or was it from struggling with you to accomplish the deed at all?”
“’Twas not from any struggle I gave him, he had no problem at all with me,” Beauty blushed fiery red, “except getting me up this morning to do his bidding.”
“Be ye well, lass?” Gwyneth asked gently.
“Passably well, I guess,” Beauty grudgingly admitted as she gingerly and unconsciously rubbed her sore bottom, “except for some stiffness, a sore butt, and his lordship’s infernal impatience to get his bath and some food this morning.”
Gwyneth smiled to herself but said only, “Then ‘tis best if ye get back up there to help him bathe and dress or he’ll pull you back over his knee and spank you again. He likes to do that. There’s a spare gown for you in the wardrobe. I think that one’s ruined.”
“Really?” Beauty shot back, hiding a rueful grin. “What makes you say that?”
Beauty hurried up the stairs. The Beast had just seated himself in the steaming tub. “It took you long enough. Get over here and scrub my back, lass. Be quick about it or do you need another spanking?”
Beauty quickly picked up the sponge and began scrubbing his back. Was it her fault that later, as she washed his long, dark hair, she managed to get some soap into his eyes? Was it her fault that the rinse water she poured over his head had turned so cold?
The Beast reacted instantly as the cold rinse water hit him. Reaching out a long arm, he quickly pulled Beauty into the tub on top of himself. She wound up sitting on his lap, feeling his hardness beneath her in the rapidly cooling water.
“You’ll pay for it dearly if you ever pour water that cold on me again,” he growled.
“I’m sorry, M’lord.” Beauty did not sound repentant as she hid a grin. “It was but an accident.”
“Sure it was,” the Beast muttered, meeting her lips with his in a quick kiss. “I know you would never do anything like that intentionally; just remember, an accident like that could cause you to get another spanking or your brother to hang.”
Beauty stiffened at the threat. The Beast rose from the small tub with Beauty still in his arms, a feat requiring considerable strength considering the awkwardness of his body and hers entwined in the small tub. He carried her over to the bed and lowered her to the mattress, covering her body with his.
“M’lord!” Beauty protested. “We cannot, it’s daytime.”
“What on earth does daytime have to do with anything?” the Beast asked her amused.
“Well, ’tis indecent,” Beauty said uncertainly, “isn’t it?”
“According to you, everything we do together is indecent, Beauty.” The Beast slid into her in a firm thrust. “So what difference does the sunlight make?”
Beauty never answered. The Beast stroked her body with his hands even as he thrust in and out of her moist body. She was beginning to learn how to respond to his movements and his rhythms, but he finished too soon for her to get any real enjoyment from it.
At the knock on the door, he covered their bodies with a luxurious fur pelt and yelled for the servant to come inside. It was Gwyneth carrying the tray filled with their morning meal. She had brought fresh fruit, cold milk, hot bread straight from the oven, fried potatoes and porridge with honey.
The Beast balanced the tray on his lap and began to eat with relish. “Eat up, Beauty.”
She began to pick at the food with little enthusiasm but gradually her appetite got the better of her and she ate heartily. The Beast noticed her appetite and smiled to himself.
“I guess you’re hungry,” he commented casually as he watched her eat. In spite of himself, he felt a little guilty. “I hope you had dinner last night. I never thought to ask you if you required anything.”
“Gwyneth took care of me, M’lord,” Beauty replied quietly, pausing in her dining. “As you knew she would.”
Instinctively she realized that his statement was an apology of sorts, probably as good an apology as she would ever receive from him.
“If you ever have any hunger or thirst, just mention it to one of the servants. They will take care of you,” the Beast told her. “Don’t wait for me to order food or drink for you.”
“How can I order your servants about?” Beauty asked, protesting. “I’m only one of your servants myself.”
“You have a special status, and I will make sure they all know it,” the Beast promised.
“I’m your whore, what status is there in that?” Beauty hung her head and whispered.
“The strange thing is,” the Beast reached over and lifted her chin with his hand, looking into her eyes as he replied, “I don’t think of you as a whore.” He saw her open her mouth to protest and continued rapidly, “I’ll admit I use you in bed, and I intend to continue doing so. I just do not think of you as a whore, not even mine. Please don’t consider yourself such.”
“I will not,