The Complete Booty and the Beast Series

By Ana Lynne

Once upon a time, I was a man, not a beast. Turned by a vengeful enchantress’ hand, my world would never be the same. A beast on the inside, I was transformed into a foul creature to match. Only true love could save me, something I knew nothing about.

Once upon a time, I was a girl, not a prisoner. Papa named me Belle, for the beauty he saw in my eyes. I never saw it myself, preferring books to mirrors. Though, not even words of escapism could save me from the prison of a cruel creature. Locked in his dungeon, I’d never find hope, I’d never discover sexual edge, I’d never find love...or so I thought.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.D. Grayson
• Release date: Aug 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370449651

Ana Lynne

Twitter: @authoranalynne You can contact Ana Lynne at [e-mail] Ana Lynne writes erotic short stories featuring many topics, such as, adult fairy tales, stepbrothers, taboo fetishes and other fun and edgy subjects. Ana’s goal is to create a package of descriptive sex and entertaining story in a quick-read experience. All books are now available in Paperback. If you would like an autographed Paperback, please email me at: [e-mail]

Book preview

Beast (Prince Adam)

Once upon a time, I was a man, not a beast.  I remember those days so damn clearly.  Though it was a fateful night, twenty years before I met Belle, which would haunt my life forevermore.

Before my horrific transformation, I was handsome, stronger than an ox.  My jaw was squarer than a caped superhero, and my hair and eyes were rusty brown, with a full beard to match.  Straight, porcelain teeth, manicured nails, evenly tanned skin––I was gifted with shallow perfection.  Everyone wanted to be me. 

On the outside at least.

I foolishly believed in exterior immortality.  There was no reason to doubt it on that night.  The cool, moonlit sky was as beautiful as my reflection––glowing and breathtaking.  I was hosting a dinner party.  All the important townsfolk were present.  In fact, only the undesirables were absent, banned from my castle grounds altogether.  No one at my party consorted with such people anyway.

After my French chef, Lumière, whipped us up a meal of slow roasted duck with black cherries, the party took on a risqué tone.  I shouted to the head of my kitchen staff, Mrs. Potts.

The older servant entered the dining room.  Time for tea, Prince Adam?

We thirst for something…dangerous.  Gather the staff––all hands on deck.  Bring us the oldest, most potent liquor we have.

Prince––we have so many spirits to choose from…could you define your choice? Mrs. Potts asked.

All of it! I impatiently ordered, to the laughter of everyone in the room.

Right away, Prince Adam, she bowed.

Oh––and have it delivered to the Crimson Room, I demanded.  Mrs. Potts gasped, skin flushed with red embarrassment.  I continued, Do you have a problem with that?

No, Prince…right away! she insisted, hurrying off.

The Crimson Room was filled with nothing but that color.  Lights, sheets, bed frames, walls, whipping racks, and every piece of pain-inflicting equipment was stained perfectly to the shade.

By the time the alcohol was delivered, the atmosphere burned hot like a sorcerer’s execution.  An entire orgy was on full display.  Pale, naked bodies contrasted crimson walls, beds, torture chairs, spanking tables, and racks.  Some of the scenes were of vanilla sex, minus the adultery.  Though in my secret playroom, much of the activity was of a darker nature. 

Pained, feminine cries echoed off the walls. In some corners, women were beaten with paddles.  Certain men wore collars, walking like dogs, forced to lick their Master’s toes.  A few girls chose to be choked-out with cord, cut with fingernails.  Other members preferred to be beaten with insults. You small cocked, ugly toad! one woman shouted in weaponized humiliation.

The tamer crowd consisted of the town’s mayor, who publicly fucked his blond mistress in the ass.  Women licked women, men sucked men.  Husbands and wives broke bonds of marriage with strangers, wearing crimson masks to shelter their own consciences. 

Though I cared not for such lies.  I was no coward, owning what I craved.  I hunted the taboo I desired––no mask would conceal me.  Having partial claim to the country, nobody told me what to do.  I was a prince and a playboy.  My brother was king of France, so I was happy to waste my days drunk on arrogance.

I busily worked three women at once, an 18-year-old redhead, a blond, and a brunette. Mere play toys––I didn’t even remember their names.  Of course, I never cared to ask.  I tore each of their brightly colored dresses with my strong hands. 

They were rendered fully naked, knowing better than to waste underwear at my gatherings.  Not like it mattered.  I clothed them anyway, replacing their designer rags with the quality fabrics of Paris itself.

Mrs. Potts bumped into me with eyes shut, holding a glass of Cognac.  She hated to look at such hedonism.  A deep shade of crimson stained her face.  At 10,000 francs a bottle, she often lightly filled the glass.  I downed it, shouting, You know better than to leave my cup empty.  Fill this thing up!  Cogsworth, get your ass in here and manage these buffoons.

Cogsworth rushed inside the room, fear flushing his face.  He knew I didn’t take well to such tardiness.  "I’m ever so sorry, Great Prince.  Staff––chop chop!  I want every glass kept full, every throat kept…wet."

My glass soon overflowed.  I gulped it down, demanding immediate refill.  A servant handed my three playmates booze.  I claimed the offering instead.  Pouring it down my hard, shaved chest, I let it trickle down to my 10-inch masterpiece.  Go ahead, subs…get drunk on my cock, I ordered them.

Large smiles crossed their lips.  Dropping to their soft, white knees, they dove in for a drink.  The blond was the first to swallow my thick rod, though the redhead quickly yanked it from her mouth, sucking it herself.  Suddenly, the brunette yanked the redhead’s hair, stealing my cock away to swallow.

Three catty girls clawed at one another, fighting over my massive cock.  Enough! I shouted with my deep voice.  They each fell into obedient silence.  The entire room of guests paused in fear, awaiting my reaction.  Needless to say, I had a bit of a temper.  People feared me.  Keep fucking, I permitted them.  Much to their delight, the crowd went right on with the show.  I addressed my three playmates.  How dare you disrespect my dominance!  You’ll be disciplined for it.  Take your positions.

For three young girls about to get beat, one would’ve expected fright and doom.  However, these kinds of girls liked the type of punishment I wielded.  Red, blonde, and brunette knelt and bent over a spanking bench.  On all fours, their asses were pointed right at my aim.

Cries and spanks of other guests filled my Crimson Room, though they were just the warm-up act to my performance.  I walked to my special rack of tools like a ballplayer picking a winning bat.  Tonight, I have a taste for Larmes féminines (feminine tears) in my glass, I thought, grabbing my flogger. 

Grasping the thick leather handle, I tested the crimson rope-fingers against my palm.  Nice and rough, I thought, embracing the sting.  I approached the tightly curved asses of my nightly playthings.  Setting the whip down, I started with a warm-up. 

Arriving at the redhead first, my large hands slid down her young smooth skin.  Being a 25-year-old playboy at the time, I wasn’t much older.  However, I demanded an elder’s respect. 

When I didn’t get such respect, consequences were paid.  My hand landed hard upon her pale cheeks.  She gasped in pained delight.  Moving onward, I hand spanked the naked blond, eliciting the same response.  Finally, I reached the brunette.

Awaiting my hand like the others, she was shocked to feel the harsh crackling of the flogger.  Her moans soon drowned out the others.  I started out slowly, increasing the intensity with each landing.  Separate lines of red stained her white skin.  She grasped the bench’s edge, body trembling for the next blow.

Moving on to the blond instead, I repeated the process.  However, I whipped her cheeks more aggressively than the last.  Crimson painted nails scraped at the silk bench cover, nearly tearing the fabric. 

Wasting no time, I stepped over to the redhead.  By that point, I had no appetite for mercy.  A very hard flogging was administered, strap lines left along her milky skin.  Her head touched the benches surface, stretching her ass perfectly.

Their cries made me harder than sex itself.  For some reason, their pain got me off.  Was I a sadist? Yes.  Though on that night, it went beyond BDSM.  I lost control of myself, aiming for their total destruction, rather than admiration.  Do you wish mercy? I asked.

Yes, Master Adam, they begged.

You’ll get none! I shouted, beating each ass until it was redder than planet Mars.  Their feminine bodies writhed, pussy lips squeezed together as one.  The scent of pleasure hit my nose as large drops of arousal leaked to the bench’s surface.  It wasn’t enough.  I wouldn’t stop until they fully broke.

The beatings continued until their asses cut.  Sweat poured off my face and strong body.  I felt peeping guests’ breath tease my neck.  The orgy had ceased and a crowd gathered around to watch me draw literal blood.

My wish was soon granted.  The brunette broke first.  Curling into a ball, she couldn’t take anymore.  Sobs echoed off the walls, her pleas played like music in my twisted ears.  Master, I beg you for mercy! 

The blond collapsed next, I can’t take any more, Master! 

Finally the redhead’s trembling cry floated through the air.  Master, I am broken!

I stopped, looking over their beaten, red bottoms.  They were so red, worn and sore. The girls’ lay like war rubble, their spoils mine to collect.  I could’ve fucked them at that moment, taken their defeated bodies as my prize.  However, I craved something much more sinister.  Cogsworth––hand me my glass!

Right away, Prince, Cogsworth said, retrieving a lightly-filled glass of liquor.  Walking around the bent girls, I went to the brunette first.  Pulling her upward by dark hair, I led her away from the spanking bench.  She asked in sobs, What do you wish of me, Master? 

I aimed her cheeks over my glass. Cry, sub! I ordered, feeling my cock thicken and grow.  The brunette willingly did as told.  As her tears fell into the glass, her sobs only got deeper––with it, my erection harder.  Done with the brunette, I moved to the blond next.  Grasping her hair as well, she was positioned.  Cry into the cup! I demanded. 

The broken blond sub obeyed, shedding her tears into my collection.  Finally, the sexy redhead tried to turn her gaze away.  However, I yanked her hair the hardest.  Forcing her face over the glass, she cried a river into it.  I shouted, Serve your prince, damn you!

Satisfied, I examined my impressive drink.  Nearly a third of the way full, I thirsted for their suffering.  Placing the glass to my lips, I slowly let it spill into my mouth.  All the while, I began stroking my hard cock.

The girls looked insulted that I didn’t even enter them.  It was like my selfishness and greed had grown so great that my ego outgrew sex itself.  I was the only one who could please me at that moment.

As the salty liquid sailed down my throat, I stroked my cock harder.  As the last drop entered my belly, I blasted a thick, white load upon the three subs’ faces.  They fought to taste the reward from one another’s cheeks, lips, and eyes.  They sought any sign of my satisfaction. As I smashed the glass into the wall, everyone in attendance began to cheer for me.

I stopped, taking a bow completely naked.  I’d never felt so proud before, as if my kingly father was watching in approval.  Of course, he was dead by then.  I could’ve stayed there and soaked up the praise forever.  In fact, I would’ve, had Cogsworth not interrupted me.

Prince, you have a guest at the door.

Send them away!  You know better than to bother me at a time like this!

"Prince, this guest…insists upon your presence," he said, eyes wide and hazy.  His stare was blank, as if entranced.  I was confused, yet intrigued. 

I thought, No one insists anything from me!  Let’s see who dares to interrupt my party time.  I’ll toss them in my dungeon!  You all––shall wait for my return, I said, yanking up my pants.  Drink and fuck, I ordered the guests.  They gladly accepted my command.

I approached my front door to a shocking surprise.  A decrepit, old woman stood in the doorway.  She was older than time itself.  Her night cloak was torn and filthy.  Barely able to stand, her wobbly walking stick was the only thing holding her upright.  Her creaking voice spoke, Good prince, I was passing through and fell ill.  Can you spare a room for just a night?

What are you doing out in these parts?  I own this land for miles…it’s private!  I’ve never seen your face before…I know everyone in this town––worthy or not.  Tell me old woman––what makes you think yourself welcome in such a grand place?

Your reputation travels far and wide, Prince.  I’ve heard…you hold many parties.  Of course, I ask not to partake in such gatherings.  All I ask is your charity, Prince––a simple act of kindness.  May I have some water and rest?

"You had the nerve to insist on my presence…interrupt my nightlife––all for charity?  What’s