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Belle dared in ways that few other maidens did.
Often when Belle squared off against her pernicious employer, she felt her spine turn to steel. In her father’s court, the weight of remaining silent as the machinations of Lord Maurice’s men lead them further down their ruinous path nearly choked her. Now she refused to let anyone, even the most powerful being in the known universe, quiet her from speaking her mind.
And so often, Rumpelstiltskin’s boorishness necessitated Belle’s rebuke.
He seemed to derive a perverse pleasure from reminding her of her fall in status. He spoke to her as if unaware that her intelligence matched his. He dedicated himself to the task of shocking and revolting her and turned even more surly when he failed.
And yet.
Rumpelstiltskin placed himself in Belle’s periphery so often that it could not be mere coincidence, not in a castle so large. He shrank from her touch but melted into her when touching proved inevitable. And he never, ever carried through on his threats to punish her when she clashed against him.
Belle suspected Rumpelstiltskin thrilled at her feistiness and went out of his way to provoke her. For all that the Dark Castle should have been Belle’s cage and tomb, she had found a freedom here she could scarcely have dreamed of while under her father’s protection. No knightly husband would encourage her to speak her mind and exercise her intellect, the way Rumpelstiltskin did.
Then again, Belle could not imagine a knightly husband who wore his loneliness so completely it fit him better than his own skin.
So, when Rumpelstiltskin granted her a brief glimpse of the nature of his heart, Belle gathered her courage to her. And she dared.
ooOoo
If Rumpelstiltskin had caught her making off with one of his shirts before she reached her room, Belle’s plan might have taken a route too bold for even her. Thankfully, she arrived at her dungeon door without encountering her employer, although she knew her theft would soon attract his attention.
She counted on as much.
Belle unlaced her bodice and let her dress pool at her feet. She stripped off her undergarments and stood naked for several moments, allowing the cool air to trace gooseflesh up her legs and belly. Then she slid Rumpelstiltskin’s shirt over her head and went to lay upon her cot.
Belle wished Rumpelstiltskin could see how lovely his red silk looked against her pale skin, but to her knowledge, he did not venture beyond eavesdropping. She plucked at her rosy nipples through the fabric and gasped at the sizzling pleasure.
“Oh, yes,” she purred, picturing Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes widening as he realized what his maid had taken abed to do to herself.
Belle’s breasts were tantalizingly sensitive. She wondered, not for the first time, how it would feel to have the imp run his blackened claws across the supple swells of them. She knew she would arch into his touch and spread her legs for him, wordlessly inviting him to take more.
In Rumpelstiltskin’s stead, Belle stroked her nipples tenderly. Pleasure rolled downwards from her breasts to her womanhood in increasingly powerful waves. She grew slick and heated without venturing lower than her naval.
“Gods,” she moaned softly, quiet enough that he might doubt his ears. “Oh, gods, yes!”
Belle continued to pluck at the stiff peaks of her breasts even after the sensation became overwhelming. Were Rumpelstiltskin crouched before her, his wicked tongue lashing against her tits, she would have bid him to do the same. She had an inkling that the pair of them would enjoy shocks of pain mixed in with their pleasure.
The possibilities encouraged Belle’s boldness. She decided, once again, that she needed to give Rumpelstiltskin a piece of her mind.
“I want you to use your mouth upon me,” Belle gasped, finally allowing her fingers to quest downwards, below her belly. “I know you possess a talent for pretty words, but what else can you do with those lips? With that tongue?”
Her fingers brushed through the thicket of curls between her quivering thighs and traveled past the glorious nub at the apex of her womanhood. Belle took a holistic approach to her self-pleasure and would leave no secret, tantalizing part of herself untended.
Trembling, she traced the swollen lips of her sex. “I think you would plant yourself between my legs and that the devil himself could not pry you loose. I think you would start by parting me. You would want to see your prize.”
Belle continued her exploration, moving her fingers to her entrance, which she circled with firm, tentative strokes. It felt so wonderful, she lost her train of thought and could only pant for a few moments.
“I think you would bend close and let me feel your warm breath against my womanhood. You would tease me with nothing more than blazing glances and long sighs until I writhed under your gaze.”
Belle slid one finger inside of her. She had fantasized before about how it would be to look down and see Rumpelstiltskin perched between her thighs, preparing to worship her with his mouth. It never failed to rocket her to the precipice of her climax, but this time, Belle needed to last a little longer. She added another finger and brought the heel of her palm to her clitoris.
“Then you would capture that little pearl between your lips and suckle on it without mercy. You would — oh, gods, you would realize how much I loved the sound of you lapping at me, and you would ease two fingers into me, and you would pump them in — oh, gods, you would pump them in and out. You would not stop after I reached my first orgasm, or my second, or my third. You would push me beyond the pleasures of which I thought my body was capable. You would make me feel so amazing!”
Belle cried out happily, thrilled at the jolts of lightening that shot through her body when she crooked the fingers inside of her.
“And after I recovered from that boneless puddle of satiation, I would zealously return the favor. I would undo your leather breeches and find your hardness and take you into my mouth. You would teach me everything about pleasing you and of how to cradle your balls and whether you preferred me to take you down my throat or to tease your cock’s head with flicks of my tongue.”
Her pleasure crested as she paid special attention to her clitoris, and Belle knew the end was upon her. So she made her final entreaty. With one hand working madly between her legs and the other tending to her right breast, she invoked her employer’s mighty name.
“Do you hear me, Rumpelstiltskin? I call upon you, Dark One. Let us make a new deal. This time, I…want…you!”
Belle’s orgasm broke, and she arched upwards, grinding herself into her hand. She sang of her pleasure with throaty moans and lusty bellows. Few men could have overheard Belle’s climax and remained unaffected.
ooOoo
And beneath his scales and claws and prancing mannerisms, Rumpelstiltskin remained a man, one tormented by his maid’s wanton behavior.
Well, he supposed he deserved his aching erection and his heavy balls, the horniness which had hours ago seemed manageable but now felt all-consuming. Eavesdropping was a tricky game, especially when one kept as tempestuous a maid as he.
“Rumpelstiltskin,” came Belle’s voice, hoarse and so deeply sensual that he would have cum on the spot if she commanded it of him. “Come and fetch your shirt.”