Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! This story is somewhat inspired by Fifty Shades of Grey but I tried to keep the characters as in character as possible which means the kinky fuckery is toned down some… But we haven't gotten there yet! Or have we?
A few things in this story violate the laws of cannon… I'll let you find them out the fun way! I'm writing this mostly for fun. Also I'm rambling.
"This… Is…" Madge puts her foot on my rump and pulls the corset I'm being imprisoned in even tighter, "Ridiculous!" my back gives a sickening crack as the pressure aligns my spine, "Damn that felt good…" I purr.
"Please, we should be honored to be invited to the Benefactors Masquerade Ball…" she grumbles as I step into my gown. It looked much like Belle's from Beauty and the Beast of which I had the lead role in NYU's production this year… Definitely not the reason I'm wearing this dress, it's the only thing Madge owns that's large enough to fit me though our crappy eating in the last few weeks earned a few extra pounds around my stomach and unfortunately none in the breast area.
Mayor Undersee, Madge's father, was invited to this thing… But is "occupied" so he gave the tickets to Madge along with a generous donation to the school. Perpetually single Madge refused to invite anyone BUT me and guilt tripped me until I agreed. I was going to regret this night in a stuffy dress, choking corset and pinchy shoes in a confined space with big money.
"Should I put my hair up, or down Sleeping Beauty?" she spun around in her sleek off the shoulder pink gown.
"Leave it down, it's curly today, very sexy and fierce…" her hair was up in a very tight bun that must have given her a face lift though I couldn't tell.
I thumbed the mask on her dresser, lovely and silver with intricate glitter designs around the eyes and a black silk strap. Mine was a little fancier pale blue with gold lace patterns around the eyes and a gold feather to the side.
"The limo's here, ready Belle?" she holds out her arm and I pick up my "fancy night" purse, enough room for the ID, cell phone, a few bucks, my metro card, and lip gloss… and a condom. Who knows?
"Why of course Aurora, ready to find our Prince Charming's?" I joke lifting my skirt so as we walk out of her SoHo apartment, Madge came from money, old old money, another reason I was willing to go with her, she knew how to behave in fancy places and would definitely not let me act like an ass. I'm from the backwoods of Upstate New York at NYU on about ten different scholarships, and paying for my shitty Greenwich Village efficiency by tending bar and tutoring freshmen English students and some prissy high school Upper East Side brats.
"Mademoiselle's," our driver opened the door to the limo and bowed as we slid in, me stuffing the poufy yellow skirt as I tugged at the black silk profile choker I always wore. There's a hint of sarcasm or amusement in his voice… I like him, "There is a bottle of Champagne courtesy of Mayor Undersee on ice. Shall I open it for you?"
And here we were, the Mayor of New York's daughter and a urchin from a trailer park in the woods sipping fine champagne on our way to a masquerade ball in honor of the Mellark Family donating more cash than I could ever dream of making to New York University's School of Arts…
"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," Madge sips at her bubbly.
I cock an eyebrow, "Oh Miss Undersee we simply must change that," I wave my gloved hand dismissively and we chuckle, "So where is this party?" I ask finishing off my glass.
"Mister Mellark's penthouse, it's on the Upper East side near my folks if you want to crash there as well…" she waggles her eyebrows as she goes to tie her mask.
Madge Undersee is like the Barbie I could never afford, blonde and perfect with a million fancy toys and accessories, I was doll with the sewn on clothes that was passed down from older to younger sister, "We'll see, I have work in the morning. I have to go interview the stuffy host of this shindig." I look out the window as drab apartments give way to beautiful homes and then even larger buildings with spacious apartments and luxurious penthouses.
The car slows outside of a tall white building, very old, very rich right across from Central Park. Prime NYC real estate.
A man waited outside and opened the door for us, "Evening sweetheart," I bristled as he called me sweetheart but took his hand, stepping out of the car in my ridiculous dress. I was more of a jeans and boots kind of gal.
"Hey Mister Abernathy," Madge smiled and the man kissed first my hand then her's.
I rocked on my heels, spun around and managed to put a good chunk of my hair up in a bun so I actually looked like Belle the rest spilled behind me, hanging in loose curls, "Well, they can't forget why you're here," Madge smiled, primping me as the smooth elevator lifted us to the top floor of this gorgeous old building looking over Central Park. Rent must be in the billions a month… Ok, major over exaggeration.
Mister Abernathy was our guide upstairs, not letting us out of his sight and helping me tie my mask so it was snug, "There you go sweetheart," he punched in a code and the gold elevator doors opened.
To say there were a lot of people in "Mister Mellark's Penthouse" was an understatement. The one great room was packed with ball gown clad tuxedo wearing New Yorkers whose identity was masked by rich silk and leather masquerade masks.
"Is your dad here?" I whisper loudly over the music, beautiful classical music perfect for a lovely waltz.
She shakes her head, "My mom may…" she gets on her heels, "I don't hear her annoying laughter, coast is clear," I wanted a drink but she took my hand and lead me to a crowded dance floor, "Come on Beauty!"
I loved dancing, absolutely LOVEDfeeling music flowing through me, the eyes were on Madge and I waltzing around giggling like fiends until a bubbly blonde came up to us, "Excuse me, they're setting up the dance auction," I eyed up the girl, no older than eighteen she had a mane of blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Prim Mellark I knew her from the Times, her budding relationship with Rory Hawthorne was local gossip, which in NYC means in the paper, the local news. Poor thing.
Madge gave me the 'look' the I-signed-you-up-for-something-without-your-knowledge look, "Come on Katniss! It'll be fun!" she pouts, "It's for charity, for the scholarship and the school!"
I sigh and am led away from the dance floor, "S-sorry," I stammer bumping into a blonde with curious and soft blue eyes.
"Please, it's my fault," he grins, his strong hand lingering on my shoulder. I want to introduce myself but the words don't come out. I don't say anything, just stammer incoherently before Madge, my saving grace pulls me to where Prim waits.
I take one last look at the silver mask and blue eyes watching my capture and forced servitude.
This is so degrading… I think over and over, but it's for NYU… Which doesn't need the money, but more importantly it goes for the scholarship that pays for most of my schooling, or paid. Sometimes I forget I graduate in two weeks.
"And next we have our lovely Evening Primrose. Just eighteen she will be attending NYU in the fall, she's fluent in French, Mandarin, and is an exceptional artist, as many of you have already bid on her artwork," she giggles curtsies.
There isn't much of a bidding war on Prim, even she's too young for some of these business men who definitely have wives just a year her senior.
"Next we have the exquisite Margaret," and this is where the auction gets creepier, "She's a wonderful at the waltz as you have all seen with her partner. No two for one deals here though," my cheeks redden, "And the daughter of the Mayor of New York."
Thirty grande… a dance with Madge Undersee, the mayor's daughter, goes for more than I will make this year, and next year… Tips included.
"Last but not least we have the exquisite Katniss, as you can see still in character form her performance of Beauty and the Beast at New York University," there's an applause and I freeze, wanting to dash but instead I grab my skirt and curtsied deep, "A journalism major so watch what you say with this one in the room," there's a chuckle.
He doesn't even finish, "Fifteen thousand!" a burly man with dark hair starts.
"Twenty!" a voice in the back challenges.
What I could do with that money… I could move it of that shitty apartment… I zone out and when Madge elbow's me we're at fifty thousand.
I freeze for real this time. That would put a good chunk in my student loans…
"Sixty thousand, going once! Going twice! Sold to the man in the silver mask!" he steps forward and I gulp.
The man I bumped into, the one I couldn't find my wits around.
"Thank you everyone! Checks can be made out to myself!" I hurry off the makeshift stage to meet my 'prince charming' the chauvinistic ass who bid to probably keep his hand on my ass while we dance for a photo op.
I can't really fault him, if he participated during the last four years he's definitely paid for my schooling in some way, "Not feeling like running me down are you?" he smirks his thin lips turning up just barely.
"Perhaps," I cross my arms over my chest, trying to cover my obvious cleavage, "Do you have a name, sir?"
His finger traced the bottom of his lower lip, "For now, you can just call me sir, I don't like laying down all my cards so soon… We've only just met," he reaches over and pulls two glasses of champagne, "Here m'lady. Have you found your Beast?"
I reach up and touch one of his blonde curls, "A little shaggy…" I murmur as his blue eyes follow my ever move, scrutinizing my actions, "Perhaps," I take a sip of champagne, "I haven't had enough to drink to decide…" I look over to Madge who has on that stars truck dumbfounded look she gets around hot guys.
"If I offend you, I won't see this in the Times will I?" my Beast asks studying me, I tug up my dress and fumble with my collar chewing on my thumb all in a few seconds.
"Why would you? I'm a student and the New York Times is a little out of my league… They want people with experience," I nudge the ground with my silver heel. Ugh could this get any awkward? I don't even know his name.
God he is gorgeous, broad shoulders, light blonde stubble around his chin… I can even forgive his scruffy blonde hair for those sea blue eyes.
"Wha?" I jump out of my staring at him and shift awkwardly feeling the heat between my legs… Would it be sleazy to try and jump his bones? He did just pay a year's tuition to dance with me… Definitely prostitution.
"I asked if I was boring you Belle," he takes my gloved hand and kisses it, "I can leave you be if you wish."
"N-no!" I gasp, the stuttering coming back, I kick myself, "This isn't really…" I think I don't want to insult him, "my scene."
"What is your scene Belle?" he leans back resting on the wall as I sip champagne wishing it was Vodka or Beer and like that a waitress comes by with real cocktails on her tray.
"Do you know what a honkytonk is?" I ask quickly, maybe I could drum up conversation about that, teach him something… Seem interesting.
Take me out of this dress and ravage me. I tell my brain to shut up, shifting a little as I dampen between my legs.
His eyes light up with curiosity, "I've heard the song…"
I wave, "No, no, nothing like that. Just basically… a bar with country music and southern rock, cheap booze, great dancing…" I move in a little, "Not your scene?" I ask quietly, smirking wanting to pull of his mask, lay eyes on my buyer…
"Not at all, maybe you could show me one day," he murmurs and I freeze.
"Oh my Beast… You're going to have to try harder than that…" he takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor.
He takes my right hand in his left and rests his hand on my waist, not my back, not my ass, my waist. I shiver at his touch, though it's through layers of silk and the corset and whatever else dresses are made of I want to groan… It ignites my fire in ways I never thought possible.
Take me here… Please for the love of god… I try to kick my horny subconscious, so it's been a while?
I barely listen to the music, he's such a fluid dancer moving like water where as I clumsily step on his feet once or twice adjusting my grip on my poufy skirt.
"You're a lovely dancer," he murmurs his lips dangerously close to mine.
Just kiss me you daft man! I tell my subconscious to shut up again, I've only just met the guy…
"Please, I've scuffed your thousand dollar shoes at least four times already," he smirks and squeezes my waist just a little, the pressure earning a deep groan from within me. I look up at his shocked expression.
"Four hundred Belle, how much did this dress cost you?" he quips.
"Free, Miss Undersee couldn't let me come to this function dressed in anything less than the best."
"But of course," he squeezes my waist again, getting the same response, "Belle you have the most graceful step, though you're not used to someone being in front or in charge… Where did you learn?"
I realize that the main point of his statement is the 'in charge' and I stiffen… Learn?
"I… I hunted back home, before I came to the City. To help feed my mom before she…" I look away, no. No Katniss, don't tell this man anything, you don't even know his name, I cough and force a smile, "Before I came to New York. You learn to tread lightly pretty quick."
The dance ends, he can tell I'm bothered, "Please, Belle, come," he offers his hand, "Let's get away from the crowd I can tell you're upset and perhaps you should lay off the drinks," he scolds as I sip at the cocktail I was given it hits me even harder since I haven't eaten yet today, "And never accept a drink from a stranger Belle," his words are full of concern and caution and… Possession? Pretty sure I spoke to my cat like this once about not eating out of his own cat box.
"Thank you, Beast…" I take his hand, Ravish me you confusing ass.
He leads me past where Madge and her prince still dance and she gives me a happy grin. She knows how to behave at places like this, I'm being led away by a man who paid a small fortune to get one dance with me. He leads me through a door and flicks a switch.
Five glasses of champagne, and a cocktail and a half and I was woozy, not drunk, merely buzzed, "Where are we?" I ask my heels clicking on the deep wood floor.
"The one place that's off limits to guests," he smirks.
"…and that is?"
"The owner of this fine apartment's bedroom."
I gasp ready to turn heel and leave, this is disgustingly inappropriate, "We should leave, I don't want to upset the person signing away his fortune to my school," I blush and my thumbnail goes to my mouth.
"Please, he's a close personal friend of mine…" my beast comes to me and takes my gloved hand, kissing the knuckles as I sway a little from the drink, "My dear sweet Belle, sit," the first part of the room is a sitting area, a large black leather couch seated in front of a flat screen. Instead I make my move.
I stand on my toes and catch his lips, they're unresponsive at first before his hands find the side of my face, I expect him to remove the mask but he doesn't.
He doesn't want to know who you are idiot. What are you doing? A one night stand! My subconscious scolds me. I tilt my head as he deepens the kiss and lowers me to the couch. The leather is soft and supple and refreshing on my heated skin. He pulls away and kneels in front of me to take off my shoes.
"Better?" I nod, giggling as his thumbs rub my sweaty foot, "You have a beautiful laugh, princess."
"Oh kind Beast, I'm not a princess, merely a poor girl with Stockholm Syndrome…"
His blue eyes light up, "That isn't all there is to the story, is there?"
I blush, Beauty and the Beast was always one of my favorite movies, "No, I'm a little too harsh on the story… It's a beautiful tale of a common woman falling for her Prince though he looks nothing like the beautiful man he is inside," I pull at the fingers of my gloves, trying to stop them but my Beast stops me, "She falls for him for what's in his heart," I cover my own heart with my hands, "But forgive me… I'm getting sentimental," I smirk.
He takes my hand and kisses the knuckles, "What do you want, Belle?"
The word slips from my lips without thinking. The one word that could change my life forever.
"You…" I whisper ignoring my subconscious asking me who I was… What kind of woman I was, I didn't know this man, I didn't know if he was diseased. I knew I couldn't get pregnant, a little device I had inserted in me three months ago kept that from happening.
His hands mine, our fingers lacing as he pulls me from the couch into the bedroom, "Are you sure this is ok?" I ask nervously, he just chuckles.
"Please, the owner of this Penthouse finds himself very well occupied this evening Belle, he won't even notice…" sex with a stranger on another stranger's bed.
At some point he had lost his suit coat and my sloppy fingers go for his buttons on his dark blue waistcoat but he pushes my hands aside and takes off the waist coat, his dark blue tie, and shirt in one shot. He's so yummy, sculpted abdominals, just enough chest hair… I want to run my fingers through it. Soft and dark blonde, darker than the hair on his head. I reach for his mask, wanting to look upon his face but he pulls back.
"Ah my sweet Belle, patients…" and he pulls met to him, sliding the sipper of my gown down, his index finger tracing the ties of my corset and the exposed bit before my garter belt, "Can you breathe in this?" he asks licking his top lip as the yellow fabric pools on the ground, I step away and look down at the corset.
"Yes," I hesitate wondering what I should call him, "…Sir…" I smirk, unable to call him Beast again without laughing.
I scratch at my calf with my toe, wanting to get out of the panty hose, "This is going to be very difficult with my pants on," I jump a little, his tone undecipherable before going for the supple leather belt and his button. I hesitate at his fly, his erection already making his pants taught.
You did this to him. Go girl! My less horrified subconscious tells me as the zipper slides all the way down. He helps himself from his socks and four hundred dollar dress shoes before his arm wraps around my waist pulling me to him. My skin puckers to gooseflesh as his skillful fingers trace the gap between my corset and underwear, "Are you attached to these?" he asks pulling at the elastic on the white lace thong I wore.
"N-no…" I stammer.
His eyes light up and he slides his fingers down, getting dangerously close to my very damp and very ready sex before his other hand frees my waist and joins the other, tearing them apart. I gasp and look up at his amused smirk, "You told me you weren't attached to them," he slides a fingers through the wetness that has been gathering since I first bumped into him. My head rocks back and a throaty moan escapes from deep within me. No one's ever touched me like this before…
I get adventurous, reaching forward to stroke his erection through his dark boxers, his movement halts when I reach in and pull him free, "What are you doing?" he asks as I sink down, my grey eyes never leaving his deep blue ones, much deeper than when we first met.
I flick the tip with my tongue cautiously having only done this once or twice, there's a small drip at the end. He's the perfect mix of salty and sweet and I throw caution to the wind. Who cares if we're in his friend's bedroom? Who cares if he or she could barge in at any second?
I slowly take him in my mouth, my tongue running along his length, "Belle…" he groans, this is getting annoying… But if he won't tell me his name, why should he call me mine? I move back and forth along his length, "Sweet Belle, please…" he pushes me off him, and pulls me to my feet, kissing me deeply.
I moan into his mouth as his fingers slip into me and he walks us to the bed. The back of my legs hit the soft as satin sheets and I fall back expecting him to join me, but he doesn't. Instead he spreads my legs and pulls me to the very edge of the bed.
I close my eyes in anticipation but his nails dig into my flesh, "Vous êtes si belle…" he murmurs in perfect French, "Open your eyes…" I look up at him, the only thing he wears the beautiful silver mask where as I'm still in the tight corset, stockings and garter belt.
"Tell me your name," I purr up at him.
He just smirks and eases inside me, my hands grabbing for the dark sheets beneath us, "All in good time, my sweet Belle…" he halts once fully sheathed inside me allowing me to adjust, maybe he sees the discomfort in my face. It HAD been a while… Like two years.
"Just move," I pant trying to wrap my legs around him but his firm hands keep them spread wide leaving me very exposed. I try and ignore the patch of hair I left unattended for a few weeks.
His thrusts are cautious and forceful, enough that they would force me to the center of the bed if it weren't for strong hands holding me in place, "Touch yourself," he purrs blue eyes studying me, enjoying my shock but not missing a beat with his delicious thrusts, "Come on Belle… I can't hold out much longer and I want you to sing for me," cautiously I release my ironclad grip on the sheets and move one hand down to my heated sex. My eyes lock with his as I slowly rub my index and middle finger around my clitoris in slow circles before my movements get hungrier. The beautiful classical music keeps the sound of our fucking from the rest of the room but surely someone knows what shameful acts we're doing. Two strangers dirtying some poor guy's bed…
"Mmm…" I feel the hot coil deep within me tighten even more.
"That's it babe…" he purrs, slamming into me, "Sing for me…"
His words are enough, the coil springs through and my back lifts from the bed and I cry as my orgasm ripples through me, the relief and pleasure spreading from the epicenter to my scalp.
"There we go…" he coo's after his own orgasm. My mind glazes over, the alcohol, the AMAZING sex, the earth shattering orgasm… I'm spent.
My Beast pulls me to the pillows at the top of the bed, his skilled fingers untying the strap on my mask and pulling it from my face, "Perfect…" he murmurs.
"Wait… Madge!" I fight to keep my eyes open as he pulls the covers up to my chin.
"I'll tell your friend you're staying the night, Abernathy will take you home in the morning, sleep… My sweet Belle…" there's a sorrow in his voice I ignore, his back is to me as the mask comes off.
Stay awake… See his face…
But my eyes won't listen, "By the way… My name is…"
"...Cato". Bleh could you imagine? More to come! More familiar faces, more smut, more drama llamas.