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| The following day, Orlando takes a walk through the park once more. His path is familiar, yet seems unfamiliar. His sense of time is off. This sun is not right, though he cannot place what is amiss. Statues he has never seen before come and go as he wanders. Finally, he comes to a clearing with an old lime tree. The tree has a mighty crown and its branches almost reach the ground. Orlando stares, wondering how he has not seen this before. He has walked this path daily, yet today everything is different and he cannot explain why. At the outskirts of the forest, on the opposite end of the clearing, there are people from the village nearby. This is the first time in a long while that the youth comes into contact with other people again. Waving his arms, he runs toward them. But before he can reach them they disappear under the trees. Suddenly, his sister appears before him. Her face is full of sorrow. "Oh, Orlando!" "What is it? Stay, Vianne. Tell me, what is going on here?" But instead of replying her mouth opens in a silent cry and she, too, runs away. All of a sudden, the youth finds himself under the lime tree. His hands are bound to a branch above his head. "What is this? Help! Help me!” he cries, trying to see whether the villagers are still somewhere near. But there is nobody to help him. Frantically he tries to free his hands, but it is not possible. The rope is bound too tightly. Then he notices someone standing behind him. There is a sensation of warmth on his back and he hears someone breathing. "Beast, is that you?" he says, trying to turn his head. He twists to look over his shoulder, but in that moment a blindfold clovers his eyes. And then he hears a low growl. "Who else could it be?" The Beast's breath is hot on his neck. "Please release me. I don't understand …" "Ah, I see. Now you admit that you don't understand." Orlando does not like the mocking tone of the Beast’s voice, and there is a distant hint of menace too. Orlando's heart begins to beat faster. He feels a trace of fear creep up his spine. "You have always treated me kindly!" "And how did you repay my kindness? You let me drink from your hands, yet you let me starve like a man standing before a rich banquet he may only look at, but never touch." The Beast does not raise his voice, yet the feeling of danger grows stronger with each word. "Let me go, I pray you …" "Enough of this!” The Beast shouted. “I am sick of all these idle words. Now I shall take what is already mine." Orlando shivers when the Beast's claws rip apart his shirt at the back. The air is cool and a warm drop of blood runs down his shoulder. "Did you change your mind?” Orlando asks trembling, afraid that the Beast no longer attempts to master his animal impulses. “Are you going to kill me, now? If so, I beg you, do it quickly." "Oh, Orlando," the Beast whispers closely, his breath like fire against the boy’s skin. "How could I ever kill you?" Gently, the Beast licks the wound on Orlando’s shoulder and embraces the youth from behind. A wave of hot and cold shivers wash over the young man. The hairs stand up on his arms, but it is not only fear that he feels as the Beast’s claws slowly go deeper. "What are you doing?" Orlando inhales sharply. He cannot believe what is happening to him. How can it be that the Beast is suddenly kissing him? Kisses between his shoulder blades so tender that he almost melts. “Did I ever harm you, Orlando?” “No, but …” “And I will not harm you now. See, there is no magic at work here anymore.” The blindfold falls from Orlando’s eyes. He looks down and sees the Beast’s large hand cupping him. He twists again, becoming painfully aware of how his wrists hurt as the rope cuts deep into his skin. But if the rope didn't hold him upright, he would hardly be able to stand anymore. When his head falls back, he notices that Beast's mane and fur feel quite soft. And … when the creature presses up close to him he becomes aware that the Beast's fine robes are gone. Orlando’s breath catches. "Do you still find me repulsive?" The Beast’s voice is so gentle now, low and seductive. With the blood rushing loudly in his ears, Orlando can hardly understand what is spoken. The Beast is now licking and lapping at Orlando's neck, biting him ever so slightly. "I … I …" Orlando’s voice trails off as the Beast bit by bit pulls down the rest of the shirt and then the young man’s pants, exposing him completely. Closing his eyes, Orlando feels shame burning hot on his cheeks. He should not feel like this, he should fight it. It's unnatural. After all, the Beast is … a monster. Yet it is only too obvious how the Beast's touches arouse him. At first, the creature's hands touch him only slightly, almost hesitantly. But even these slight caresses suffice to make Orlando's desire swell. The insides of the Beast's hands are soft, and surprisingly very deft. Orlando moans loudly when the Beast’s long fingers close around his growing length. "No, no, no," he whimpers, but what is the Beast to make of that? Stop caressing him or do just the opposite? Orlando shivers, knowing that the Beast desires him, too. The creature's erection presses heavily against the young man’s back and then pushes between his thighs impatiently. The youth writhes and squirms, back and forth, up and down, as if this could bring him relief somehow. Soon the blood recedes from his hands, but he does not feel the pain anymore. He almost sobs as the creature's hand slides up and down ever faster while the other hand glides between his buttocks. The Beast’s fingers are wet and slip inside easily. Orlando begins breathing faster and faster, his movements becoming totally erratic now. At the same time it is as if everything around him is very still; he feels like a taut bowstring the second before the arrow is fired. Behind his closed eyelids, red sparks are flashing against a black backdrop. He is panting, flailing, and babbling incoherent syllables. Every minute brings closer the moment when the Beast will penetrate him and possess him completely. Orlando is terrified, yet at the same time he cannot wait for it to happen … When the Beast spears him, bright, hot pain shoots through Orlando’s body, then instantly transforms itself into sheer ecstasy. “But this is magic,” Orlando thinks. All of a sudden he feels light-headed. He opens his eyes the moment he comes hotly over the Beast's hands - and then everything vanishes into a blur. From a great distance Orlando hears someone speaking … The young man woke with a start. Outside the windows there were birds singing accompanied by the rustling of trees and then it was very quiet again, like the still moments before dawn. Orlando rubbed his eyes. What had happened? Had anything happened at all? Dazed, he looked around. He was in his room, lying in his bed; the sheets were crumpled and the covers had fallen to the ground. On the opposite wall, next to the door the Beast was standing, stockstill and silent, and, as always, dressed in the finest garments. His features were unreadable. Orlando gasped. He noticed that his shirt had slid above his knees and that one of his hands still lay between his legs. Quickly he sat up. "What is it? What are you doing in my room?" The Beast stared at him intently, his nightgrey eyes shimmering mysteriously. "I wanted to tell you something, but it seems this is not the right moment. Come down to the pavilion in the park tonight and I shall explain everything to you." With that, the Beast left the room. Orlando was too shaken to respond, the dream had seemed so real. But what disturbed him even more was that he found himself wishing it had not been a dream. He lay awake long after that, rolling from one side to the other, trying to forget. But he could not stop thinking about the Beast's lips on his skin. He remembered how tenderly the Beast had stroked him and, as if they had a will of their own, his fingers began to imitate the creature's caresses. One hand sneaked between his legs tracing his own length before grasping it firmly. How easy it was to imagine it was not his own hand. And it was as if he could still feel the Beast's hard sex deep inside of him, sliding in and out, faster and faster. His own movements grew more and more frantic. If the Beast had still been outside Orlando's door, what would he have made of all the stifled moans? Finally the youth fell asleep. Afterwards he couldn't remember the muddled dreams he’d had during that uneasy half-sleep. |