Beast [mf][dubious consent]

This is an excerpt from a novelette I wrote that was recently banned from Amazon. It's only 99c on Smashwords but the starving artist that I am appreciates if you're strapped for cash so if you need it, I'll give you an exclusive reddit coupon :) As the story progresses there is bondage, oral, and more.

Chapter 1

“Take me instead,” I said, my voice unwavering. This man, the “Beast” as they called him, was going to kill my father. My kind, somewhat naive father, had racked up a series of unbeatable debts. While some were to banks, most were to unsavory types like this man.

My father’s debt was for us, my sisters and me. Well, mostly my sisters. The stupid brats wouldn’t get off their bums and chip in. They were used to the life of luxury we had before daddy lost his fortune in the recession. Always asking for expensive clothing, jewelry, and all that ilk, my father gave in until he was too far in a hole to see the light. Even now my sisters were dressed in Alice + Olivia dresses with matching Chanel clutches. All that good intentioned yet inappropriate spending had finally caught up to him.

My sisters cowered in the corner, clutching their clutches, and more concerned for themselves than our father. The Beast and his brood hovered over us, menacing. I don’t think my father or the Beast heard me, so I spoke again, this time louder.

“Take me instead!” That caught their attention. Both father and the Beast turned their attention to me. Father’s eyes grew with horror, while the Beast’s narrowed, scrutinizing. One of his brood laughed, but the Beast raised a hand that quickly shut him up.

“And what will you offer?” His voice was low and gravely. It was cruel. I swallowed and took control of my fear. The Beast was appropriately named. He was tall, almost seven feet, and all muscle. He had wild and crazy black hair that fell in shag across his calculating, dark eyes. I could see the hint of a scar along his jaw, though it was covered by stubble.

“My life for his,” I said, folding my arms.

The Beast smiled and it sent chills down my spine. The smile was lazy and crooked. His teeth were pearly white. Something in that smile betrayed pure wickedness, and not the sexy kind. I wanted to cower, to hide in my shoulders, but I forced myself to stand tall.

“Belle!” I heard my father’s protests. I looked at him and he looked so small. He was never a tall man, but now he looked miniscule. I shrugged at him. What’s a girl to do when her father is about to die?

“This is madness it’s me you want! She has nothing to do with this!”

My father yelled, reaching for me. He had tears in his eyes, they were big and splotchy. At this point my father didn’t care to look tough. He was crying madly. I wanted to cry too, but I knew if I started to cry I wouldn’t stop and would never go with the Beast. I had to be strong now.

I could feel my father’s heartbreak, more than I could see my sisters’ incredulousness. I felt broken and unsure. My sisters wouldn’t be there for him anymore, now that father couldn’t give them luxury. They would leave and find some poor sap to take care of them. My father would be alone now. If I didn’t do this, though, my father would be dead. It was better he was alone than dead.

“It’s done. Come now, Belle.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door. I could hear my father crying and begging as the door shut behind us. I didn’t even have time to say good bye. The Beast whispered my name in my ear in such a way that I could see my life, my hopes, and my dreams disappear. I was his.

---

“You’ll stay here. With me.”

“You’re not going to kill me?” I asked, surveying the room. It was extravagant. I’d gone from sharing a one bedroom apartment with four people in Queens and certain death to a penthouse with a psychopath. I had no comment.

He smiled that crooked, cruel smile again that made me want to hide in the closet with a baseball bat and said, “I have other plans for you, Belle.” I never hated my name so much than when he said it. “Dinner is in two hours, dress appropriately.” With that, he left and I was alone in the extravagantly decorated bedroom. Dress appropriately? I’d left without saying goodbye to my family, let alone pack evening wear.

I let out a sigh and walked to the window. The view was beautiful. From what I could tell we were on Park Avenue. Christmas trees already lined the medians. I used to love walking on Park during Christmas. All the shops shone brightly with lights and the usually green medians were festive with trees. I would imagine what fancy people lived in the buildings, eating turkey and smiling with their families. Now I knew. It was people like the Beast who lived in these buildings.

With one last look at the merry view, I turned away. “Dress appropriately,” he said. I looked around the room and on a hunch, walked over to the sliding glass wardrobe. If I didn’t find something suitable, at least I could spit on one of his ties. Inside it was practically packed to the brim with gorgeous evening dresses. Each one probably cost more than my apartment back in Queens.

I picked out a yellow chiffon number that went all the way to the ground. When I put it on I felt like a princess. I could even twirl in it. I looked awesome. It made me feel less dirty and less like a woman waiting for the gallows.

I still had at least an hour before dinner, and I didn’t fancy sitting on the bed and staring at the wall (though the view from the window was amazing). I decided I would explore. Later I would blame aneurysm for this bold and insane decision.

When I walked toward the door I felt like I was attempting a jailbreak. I wasn’t, though. I just wanted to explore. I had this pretty dress on and, I don’t know, I wanted to walk around in it. Part of me though, a very big part, thought the minute I opened the door guys with guns would storm in and force me in a corner.

They didn’t. I opened the door and was greeted with a long, white corridor. Creepy, abstract art dotted the walls. It was the kind of art that while not exactly looking like anything, still reminded you of blood and guts and killing things. I swallowed and continued on my way. I know I could escape. I could run for my life, out of this apartment, and scream. The cops would come, I would tell them my story, and maybe if by luck I found the one cop not on Beast’s payroll the Beast would be arrested. That wouldn’t stop my Dad’s murder though. Or mine. It was crazy being prisoner in the middle of a bustling metropolis. As I walked by another window I stared down. How many other people were prisoners like me?

“What are you doing out of your room?” I froze. It was the Beast. His voice was angry. I had never heard him angry. His normal voice was cruel and terrifying enough. I didn’t know what to do, so I just burrowed my eyes in to the ant people below. “Answer me!” He pushed me against the window, so that my whole body pressed against the glass. I wondered if anybody could see me.

“I…” My voice came out pathetically high.

“You go where I tell you to go.” He growled in to my ear. He pushed up my yellow chiffon dress. I stiffened. “Belle…” He lifted up my brown hair and bit at my neck. I screamed and he pushed me harder in to the glass. I think I was crying, I don’t know.

“You’re mine,” he snarled. Tears obscured the glass. I was definitely crying, but I couldn’t hear it. I was going numb. I was numb to everything around me. He was going to rape me. I could feel his rough and calloused hands on my inner thigh, feeling the private flesh. I screamed out, though I know no one heard me. If they did, they didn’t bother helping. My screams did nothing in dissuading him, if anything they pushed him harder. He ripped of the lace of my underwear and I felt cool air lick at my lips. Tears streamed down my face. I was crying uncontrollably now. I couldn’t focus on be strong. I couldn’t focus on anything. My worst nightmare was happening. That thing I watched on TV and said “oh, that won’t happen to me,” was happening. I always said I would fight back, that I would kick anyone’s ass who tried to hurt me. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t fight back. I just lie slumped against the window as he undid his pants behind me.

When he entered me it was rough and brutal. I think I cried out, though it was possible I was already crying too hard. My fingernails scratched at the surface of the window. This wasn’t pleasure, this was agony. Exquisite and cruel, it was agony that I never new existed and wouldn’t wish on my deepest of enemies. It felt almost like an art the way he twisted pain inside of me.

When he finished he let go of me. I slumped to the floor, messy and crying. I could still feel him inside of me. I was violated.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1n4aqb/beast_mfdubious_consent