•A Different Story•

Chapter Four

Afterwards, spent and nearly relaxed, the beast trailed his fingers along the prisoner's body where he lay sprawled on the floor. His legs were well-furred, for a human, and his ass was a firm, warm handful. The beast casually flipped the prisoner over to find a thick pink cock very much ready for action. But his chest -- "You're bleeding," rumbled the beast.

"No shit, Newton," hissed the prisoner. "Hey! What are you doing? That's filthy-- don't stop," he said as the beast licked at his wounds. The salt, metallic blood was tasty, and watching the prisoner writhe beneath him was tastier. "Jesus," the prisoner breathed, "have you got opium on your tongue--" and then the words dissolved into soft incoherent mumbles. The prisoner bucked against the beast's chest, the hands curled around his horns shoved insistently downward, and eventually the beast complied. The thick pink cock was tasty as well.

The prisoner grunted and thrust himself desperately, four times, five times, smooth skin against the beast's raspy tongue, and then went limp. The beast swallowed and straightened his back. The prisoner was already snoring, in a heap on the floor with his clothes in tatters around him.

Lumiere was right -- the beast couldn't just keep the prisoner in the dungeon forever. Sex in a bed would be ever so much more comfortable. He resolved to speak to the candlestick about it -- a bedroom for the prisoner, that was, not sex -- first thing in the morning. But before he lumbered off to bed, he stopped to check on his rose.

"One petal left," he sighed, leaning a hand heavily against the glass.

"Yes, Master," said Cogsworth -- damn it, was he to get no peace from his servants? "Your birthday is in a week, and we thought -- that is, all of us were wondering, er, if you've made any progress on the whole, ah, falling in love thing."

"Forget it," growled the beast. "It's not going to happen. Enjoy being a clock."

"Yes, Master," said Cogsworth. "But--"

"But you do seem to be, 'ow shall we say, somewhat fond of ze young man in ze dungeons," Lumiere put in smoothly. "Per'aps 'e . . ."

"HIM?" shouted the beast. "That trespassing, rose-poaching, insulting --" infuriating, exciting, sexy -- ?

"Well," said Mrs. Potts reasonably, "it's not as if there were anyone else."

"OUT!" roared the beast, and the three servants fled. Beneath them, the floor shook with -- not more shouts, as usual -- but laughter. It was twice as disturbing as the shouts, and they were almost relieved when the laughs turned abruptly into sobs.

"Well! Who would have thought?" said Mrs. Potts. "I was sure a girl would do for him -- a sweet young lady to gentle his temper. It's a tale as old as time, you know."

"Per'aps," Lumiere said, draping an arm around Cogsworth's shoulders, who winced at the dripping wax. "But zis is a different story."