The rape in this chapter isn’t 'realistic', but it does avoid the trope of the victim enjoying their violation. If you don’t like the sound of that you can skip the flashback text between the two rows of stars to get the present-day story. I’ll put a synopsis at the start of chapter 8
Rose woke up blissfully rested, although with a very sore behind. The sun outside told her that The Beast had let her rest past his accustomed time for serving breakfast. Maybe the spanking had only been the start of her punishment and she would be back to eating cold eggs at the dinner table. Tying her petticoats and shrugging into one of her old dresses (which she had come to think of as her housework clothes) she went downstairs to investigate.
The Beast was waiting for her at the dinner table, reading a book. He put it down as she entered, marking his place. “Ah, Rose,” he said, “I thought it best to let you sleep as long as you needed. If you would do me the honour of waiting for a moment, I will fetch us breakfast.”
Rose nodded, and while she was waiting she took a look at The Beast’s book. It was called Ordinatio and was by someone called Duns Scotus. A quick glance inside confirmed her suspicion that it was another book in a foreign language. Grimacing, she replaced it on the table and folded her hands on her lap.
The Beast returned with breakfast, which included a new treat. “Bacon!” Rose exclaimed.
The Beast’s smile had a strange hint of regret. “Yes, Agnes’ visitation means we now have a small supply of goods that cannot be procured from the forest or garden. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”
“It is,” Rose affirmed, enthusiastically applying her knife and fork to the unexpectedly hearty brunch.
When they had finished eating, The Beast looked seriously at her. “Rose, I cannot begin to say how sorry I am for what happened last night.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” said Rose. “I broke the rules and you punished me. As you pointed out, it was only what I’d agreed to before.”
“There is no need to humour me Rose, although I fully understand why it would seem that there is. You came here to honour an invented debt, backed with a threat, and since then I have more than proven that I am, as you so rightly said, a monster. I will not keep you here any longer. Any and all obligation you may have towards me is discharged, and I release any other hold on you that I may have. You may leave at your earliest convenience.”
“But I am not humouring you at all. I’m happy to live here with you, and I was happy to accept my punishment for breaking the rules. You told me my bedtime clearly, and as for my other behaviour, it was quite unseemly.”
“Rose, you cannot mean that. You’re young, you don’t understand. Last night was about more than just punishment. It was… I was… Look, when you first came here you asked me about the type of creature that I am. I think it’s time you knew. I owe you honesty, after everything, and when you know the truth you will also know why you should not stay here.”
***
The Prince stumbled into his room, gesturing expansively with an overfull wine glass.
“You see my dear, portraiture is entirely played out.” He opined loudly. “Portraits are vanity, nothing more. In the coming decade, the truly fashionable gentleman will demonstrate his taste through landscapes. Nature’s sublime beauty; idyllic pastoral backwaters; even some city scenes, showing the darker side of things. And I shall be at the forefront of it. The trend setter, if I may coin a phrase.”
Behind him followed a young woman in a gown with an unwisely low neckline. She had clearly invested great effort into her appearance. Sparkling diamond earrings hung twinkling amid her elaborately styled blonde hair; her unremarkable chest was lifted high by her bodice and her cheeks, which still bore traces of puppy fat, were liberally daubed with rouge. She had a turned up nose and long eyelashes that gave her a permanent look of surprise. Looking around the lavishly decorated chamber with unveiled awe, she said, “You have stunning taste, my Prince. Your collection of landscapes is indeed magnificent.”
“Bah, it’s easy to have taste when you’re rich. And none of this ‘my Prince’ kerfuffle — we’re in a familiar setting. I’m sure ‘sir’ will do very well.”
“As you wish… er… sir,” said the girl, pulling nervously at the lace scarf around her neck. “So may I ask who produced these works? Do you patronise a single artist, or is there more than one represented here?”
The Prince laughed. “I honestly couldn’t tell you, I picked them up from an estate that was in some financial trouble. I’m bored of art talk anyway. Let us proceed to the evening’s main entertainments.”
He was standing very close to her. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she found herself with a wall at her back and The Prince between her and the door. He lent forward towards her, his breath acid from wine, and then he was kissing her, his tongue pushing into her mouth as his arm snaked around behind her and pulled her against him. Feeling that it was expected of her, she tentatively kissed him back. She had found The Prince handsome, but the situation was now making her very uncomfortable.
“Sir, this is very forward of you,” exclaimed the girl. “I think I would like to leave.”
“After you were just kissing me with such enthusiasm? Surely not.” As she moved towards the door, he sidestepped to block her.
“It was a very pleasant kiss,” she lied, “but the evening is drawing to a close and I must be leaving.”
“I sent your carriage home,” he told her. “It will be back to collect you in the morning.”
“Then you will need to provide me with a room. I do not appreciate such presumption”
“Don’t be shy,” he said, holding her around the waist as she began to struggle. “You’ve a bit more cleavage than I usually like, but I’m sure once we get you out of your bodice, your tits will be quite acceptable.”
“Sir, unhand me. I am a maiden!”
“I certainly hope so. It was my plan for the evening to deflower a little girl. I would be terribly peeved if I found someone had gotten to you first.”
“Do not think that I will bear this infamy silently. I will tell everyone of your conduct here tonight.”
The Prince smirked, and reached up to roughly fondle her breast. “And what do you suppose that will accomplish?” he asked, speaking softly into her ear. “Behind closed doors, everyone is already well aware of what a terrible rake I am. Accuse me in public, and you will find even your closest friends and family quite incredulous. Now remove your clothes, or I cannot guarantee that they will remain whole when I remove them for you.”
He shoved her away towards the bed and moved to lean against the door, watching her with interest.
Her voice began to quiver with desperation. “I beg of you do not do this. I have bled only recently. You could leave me with child.”
“I do like begging,” he replied. “As for your tender womb, I understand that if I put a bastard in it there are many fine midwives who can bring the fucker out early and dead. Now take off your clothes or you will regret the consequences.”
She began to sob as she disrobed. The Prince watched with interest. Naked, her breasts proved to be firm mounds somewhat larger than a handful apiece. Her hips curved smoothly away from her slim waist, framing a cunt misted with blonde fuzz. “You don’t have to take my virtue,” she said. “I can make you feel good.”
“You don’t seem to be in a very strong position to bargain,” observed The Prince. “But please, elaborate.”
“I could take you… in my mouth,” she suggested, tentatively.
“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand. Could you make yourself clear?”
“I could pleasure your… manhood using my mouth”
“Are you trying to say that you would like to suck my cock?”
She looked away from him and down at the floor. “Yes,” she said quietly.
“Then say that. If you’re going to do it you should be able to say the words.”
Tears were now flowing freely down her face. “I would like to suck your cock.”
“Address me respectfully, and be sure to say please.”
“Please sir, I would like to suck your cock.”
He began to advance towards her. “One last try before I think better of this and break the seal on your cunt. Beg me. Demean yourself. Show me what a common little slut you are beneath all those airs and graces.”
Falling to her knees in front of him, she began to babble desperately: “Sir, please, I need to suck your cock. I beg of you, I need it. I’m nothing but a dirty whore, fit only to drink your seed—”
“Well I’m glad to hear you admit it,” The Prince cut her off magnanimously, removing his belt. “Now I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but if I feel even the faintest hint of a bite, your life won’t be worth living. I’ll have you tied up in the stables and encourage the horses to put a little foal in you.”
“There will be no need sir, I’ll be good.”
“Excellent,” he pronounced, gently slapping the kneeling girl in the face with his engorged cock. “You may begin.”
the girl put her mouth on his cock and began to suck. She clearly wasn’t sure what to do, but she moved her head unsteadily back and forth and affected what was obviously supposed to be a seductive expression. The Prince watched her efforts disinterestedly, making no attempt to give direction. He had the attitude of a man watching a rather boring play.
After a couple of minutes of this, he said, “Do you know I think you are so fundamentally worthless, you are incompetent even to suck a cock? Stop that at once and if you ask me very nicely I will give you some help.”
Giving up her clumsy attempt to pleasure him, she looked up at him and said, “Please sir, would you help me to give you pleasure by showing me how to suck your cock?”
“I’m not sure I understand,” he said in a puzzled voice. “Perhaps if you explain to me exactly what you are and why you need help with something so simple I’ll be able to grasp what you’re saying.”
Her voice was halting and broken as she answered him. “I’m nothing more than a worthless whore,” she choked out. “I’m a dirty, worthless whore who’s too stupid to suck a cock.
Putting his hand against her cheek, he replied in a sympathetic tone: “There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Of course I’ll help you. Just take me in your mouth, nice and gently, that’s right, now very slowly push your head down until it won’t go any further. Good girl.”
She did as she was bidden, and The Prince placed his hand on the back of her head, holding it in place and watching with interest as she began to gag and struggle. “Good little whore,” he said. “I knew you were good for something. Now in a moment I’m going to pull out a little bit, and I suggest you take the opportunity to prepare yourself, because right after that I’m going to fuck the shit out of your pretty face.”
Her eyes widened, and in her shock she wasted her precious second’s respite screaming an unintelligible plea for mercy around the flesh in her mouth. Then he put his hands on either side of her head, curling his fingers behind her skull, and thrust forward hard into her throat. That was when the true nightmare began.
Tears washed the rouge off her cheeks and left trickles of pink salt staining her breasts as The Prince mercilessly shoved his cock into her gullet again and again. The muscles of her throat worked fruitlessly to reject the intrusion as her lungs struggled to pull in air through her adorable turned up nose. At one point she began to heave and she thought she was going to be sick, but The Prince withdrew and slapped her across the cheek. “Don’t you dare!” he shouted. “You keep that down whore!” Gasping and swallowing, she somehow managed to obey. Then, with the next breath she drew, The Prince grabbed her head and renewed his assault. She could not have said how long this treatment lasted; it could have been two minutes or an hour. Eventually The Prince relented and allowed her to catch her breath.
“That’s enough of that,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to spill my seed before the main event.”
“But you said that if I sucked your cock—”
“I don’t recall saying a single thing about what I would or wouldn’t do if you sucked my cock,” jeered The Prince, as if he were delivering the punch line to a bawdy joke. “What I remember is that you stripped off in front of me and begged for the privilege. You even went so far as to ask me for help. The absolute audacity of it, begging me to use your mouth as a fuckhole and then acting as if it’s some kind of bargaining chip.”
“Oh God…” she whispered
“A simple ‘sir’ will do just fine, my dear, as I believe we have already established.”
“No,” she said, standing. “No, I won’t let you do this!”
Putting his hands on her shoulders, he shoved her hard, following as she reeled backwards. Her progress was halted by the foot of the bed and she fell onto her back, her legs bending at the knee to leave her feet dangling over the edge. The Prince was on top of her before she could recover. “If only refusal numbered among your options, my dear.” He reached down and roughly groped her sex. “Bone dry,” he commented. “Am I not good enough for you, you arrogant bitch? Is that it?”
She shook her head in terror. “No? I’m not good enough for you?” he exclaimed with mock outrage. “You think that I, The Prince, am not worthy of you, a self-confessed whore? You brazen little cunt. Now let me explain to you what your choices in this matter actually consist in. The drawer at my bedside contains a phial of oil. It’s expensive stuff, but I don’t have anything in your price range so you can consider it a gift. Provided you’re very good and you don’t try to do anything silly, I’ll let you go fetch it and you can prepare your frigid little slit for my grand entrance. Alternatively, I can take you without such niceties, which I have to say will be quite uncomfortable for me, but I will have the consolation of seeing the delightful faces you make as I fuck you raw.”
Standing up and pulling her to her feet, The Prince gestured to the bedside table like a gentleman allowing a lady to go in front of him through a door. Defeated, the girl trudged around the bed and found the oil in the drawer. Sitting on the side of the bed she moved to uncork the phial.
“Stop!” commanded The Prince. “I know you’re slow to understand, but do at least try to listen properly. I told you to fetch the phial. That means bring it back here. If you’re going to be rubbing your cunt with oil I want to be able to watch the fun.”
the girl wordlessly returned to sit on the foot of the bed and pulled the stopper from the vial. A floral scent with musky undertones wafted from the bottle. “Legs open wide, please,” instructed The Prince. Obeying, she poured a thin stream of oil onto her cunny and began to work it in between the lips with her fingers. “Very nice,” commented The Prince. “You’re obviously quite the expert at frigging yourself. Don’t be shy now; use plenty of oil. Get it in nice and deep.”
As she lubricated herself, The Prince began to disrobe, watching her all the while. He was lithely built and handsome, with no excess fat to conceal his smooth musculature. With such a physique, combined with his high station, he could have won the attentions of any number of women. And yet, with the world laid out before him, he had chosen to use his power and his charm to lure a naïve girl to his room and force himself upon her.
“That’s enough oil,” he said. “Let’s get up on the bed and get to know one another.”
the girl, who was no longer crying, took a moment to dab her face dry after restoppering the bottle. For a moment she looked like she was troubled by something far more distant and abstract than her current plight. Then she seemed to make a decision, and her face took on a stony resolve. “I’m warning you, if you do this you will regret it.”
“Oh yes,” said The Prince, leaning down to smell her hair and cup her breast. “And why is that?”
“I will place a curse on you.”
“Is that right?” he asked, with amused scepticism.
“Yes. I wouldn’t normally be strong enough, but after this I think I’ll be able to make it work.”
“Fascinating. As you can tell your threat has me quivering with terror. Now, enough stalling. Get on the bed or I’ll find more ways to hurt you and you’ll end up with my cock in you anyway.”
the girl complied and The Prince playfully crawled up beside her. Putting his arm around her affectionately, he touched his lips delicately to her cheek. “I got the impression before that you’d never kissed a man. Is that right?” he asked. She nodded her head. “That’s all right,” he said soothingly. “Just make your mouth nice and soft. Let your tongue move against mine just a little and we’ll progress from there.”
She nodded, confused, and he twined himself about her and kissed her like a lover. She reciprocated as he had instructed and found that it was not unpleasant. He still tasted of wine, but she was expecting it this time and his body against hers was warm and solid. He stroked her neck gently with the back of his hand in a way that made her shiver. Then he rolled on top of her and began kissing down from her collar bone to her breasts, which he sucked at and teased. She had not forgotten his sadism, but she began to see how a lover who treated her well could be something to enjoy. This would never be a happy memory for her, but it was not as bad as she had feared. She could endure it.
The Prince worked his way back up her chest and neck until he was looking into her eyes. She felt felt the tip of his cock rubbing at the entrance of her oiled cunny. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“I’m nervous,” she replied. “I didn’t choose this and I still don’t want it. But I’m ready.”
His smile was quite unlike the mocking smirk he’d had only a minute before. It spoke of compassion and a kind of accepting melancholy. “You are a wonderfully pretty girl.” he said, lowering himself to hold her close and whisper into her ear. “It’s clear that you’re full of wit and charm. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to know that when I’m done with you you’ll be broken and dirty and you’ll never be able to look at yourself in the mirror without knowing it.”
For a moment, his words stunned her, and then he looked into her eyes and shoved his cock into her in a single stroke. She cried out as he tore through her maidenhead, and began to fuck her. He did not give her any time to adjust to the feeling, but neither did he go as fast or as hard as he might have. Instead, he maintained a controlled rhythm while staring intently at the look of revulsion and discomfort on the girl’s face. She tried to look away from him by twisting her head to one side, but he cruelly gouged his thumb into her breast and shouted: “Look at me, bitch! I want to see the light dying in your eyes.” For the space of a few thrusts she refused, trying to ignore the torture as he mauled her breasts, but as he became ever more vicious she gave up and looked into his eyes. He immediately relented. “That’s a good little whore,” he whispered with a smile.
Blood coated his cock as he plunged it into her again and again, and the girl began to give a short, pained gasp each time it hit home. “Eyes open,” he warned her when an involuntary wince caused her to shut them for a moment. “You should thank me for this,” he said, his gaze alive with attention for every nuance of despair in her expression. “Before, you had a whole, complicated life ahead of you. Now you’re nothing but fertile shit for men like me to plant their seeds in. Nice and simple. You have a place in the world and it grants you some scrap of worth, however limited it may be.”
She knew that his words were intended to hurt her. She tried to filter them out, to think of nothing and wait for the rape to end. But as surely as his cock pierced her sex, his cruelty pieced her heart and she began to believe what he was saying. His violation was staining her. After this night, she would never be clean. Her control over her emotions melted away and she began to bawl like an infant, howling and weeping at what was being done to her, what she was being made into. Only a couple of moments after this breakdown, The Prince gave a final, violent thrust and his hot seed flooded into her. “Yes.” He said. “Now you know what you are.”
He rolled off her. “You can fuck off now,” he told her. “There are plenty of spare rooms about you can sleep in. Your carriage is coming back for you at seven o’clock sharp. Don’t let me see you leaving or I’ll sodomise you.”
Getting off the bed, the girl walked over to her discarded clothes on the floor and began to rummage through them. She found a large pocket of the type ladies wore over their petticoats and retrieved something from it. The Prince sat up on the bed, watching with interest.
Naked, red-eyed and smudged with the remains of her make-up, The Girl held up a small, crude doll made from straw and sackcloth. As The Prince watched, she reached between her legs and scooped out a glob of blood and sperm, smearing it on the poppet’s chest.
“Hear me Mother Frīg,” she intoned. “By my enemy’s seed this body is his body, and by my blood I bind it to my power and mark the price I pay. By my spittle I curse him. This is my will.” She spat on the doll, three fluids running together.
“Hear me Mother Frīg,” she called out. “The Beast of Troller’s Gill dwells in my enemy’s heart. I stand upon the white bridge and my toll will be paid in full. Draw from his depths the black dog of his soul, and let it take his flesh. This is my will.”
“Hear me Mother Frīg!” she shouted, lifting the doll above her head like a torch. “Let him wear his beauty within and his ugliness without. Let his heart know regret, and imprison it within his foulness! Scourge him with shame and wrack him with self-loathing.” She smiled cruelly. “Make him broken, and dirty, and unable to look in a mirror without knowing it. This is my will.” Then she began to tear the stuffing from the doll. It was roughly stitched, and in a few violent movements she had ripped it to pieces.
For a moment, there was stillness. Then The Prince began to laugh. It began as a mild chuckle, but it was loud and forced before it ended. “I say,” he chortled, clapping his hands in appreciation, “I didn’t expect a show to end the night’s entertainment. I’m not even going to punish you. That was marvellous. I’m particularly amused that your goddess is apparently called ‘Mother Frig’! That’s very funny, very funny indeed. Really though, you should leave now while—”
Whatever he had been about to say, it was cut off; he was clutching at his throat and making a choking noise. He began to twitch. The Girl, arms fallen by her sides, feet apart, bloody mess smeared around the insides of her thighs, watched. the prince began to convulse on the bed, his body jerking into painful angles. An inhuman sound began to pour from his mouth, first faintly as if from far away, but louder and louder until the room was filled with a roar like angels mourning the death of God. The Girl stood fixed to the spot. The light in the room had a weird brightness that seemed to make her look paler than before. Her eyes were open slightly wider than normal. the prince’s unearthly scream was no longer coming from his mouth. It was all around them. He was now bellowing in pain as he thrashed on the bed, a human sound, but one with traces of an animal howl. Parts of his body were swelling like tumours, and think black bristles were pushing out of his skin in uneven patches. Rolling onto his side, he spat out mouthfuls of blood and teeth.
The Girl looked on, her face now gaunt, her skin pallid and her eyes sunken. Her breasts had shrivelled slightly and underneath them her ribs were beginning to show. The mass of writhing muscle and fur that had once been the prince was beginning to settle into a new shape. It was hulking and bestial. As it cried out its yawning mouth revealed the points of sharp fangs beginning to emerge from the crimson mess of its gums. As its seizures subsided, it pulled its knees up to its chest and hugged them. For a few more minutes, it whined quietly as the flesh under its fur continued to shift and expand.
When it finally lay still, The Girl spoke. Her voice was that of a crone, worn down by long years: “My price is paid. By my will, and by Mother Frīg’s, it is done. Only by true love’s kiss will you be redeemed.” Then she fell, and the sound of her hitting the floor was as quiet as a book being closed.
After a while, the thing on the bed stood up. Where The Girl had stood, an emaciated body lay. It was little more than ivory skin stretched over a skeleton. In a mirror across the room, a huge black-furred monster with green slit eyes and a head shaped not quite like a dog’s was reflected. The Beast threw his head back and howled.
***
When The Beast had finished his story, Rose looked both haunted and thoughtful. “That’s difficult to take in,” she said. “Thank you for telling me.”
“So now you understand why you have to leave.”
“I’m… not sure. I think it’s best if I don’t talk to you for the rest of today. I need time to think.”
The Beast looked at her quizzically. “I don’t know what there is to think about, but you can take all the time you need to. My only motive now is to aid your safe departure. I’m not trying to drive you away before you’re ready. I’ll spend today out of your way. They’ll be dinner on the table at seven.”
Rose nodded her head, and they both got up and moved to leave at the same time. The last she saw of him that day was him tripping over his feet to give her space.