Please help me welcome Measha Stone! She has an amazing new story out that you NEED in your collection.
Measha Stone lives in the western suburbs of Chicago with her husband and their children. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, and graduated Summa Cum Laude with a degree in Creative Writing from Southern New Hampshire University. Her vanilla writing has been published in the online magazine efiction and the DuPage Writers Group annual journal Possibilities. When she’s not writing, she’s reading and spending time with her kids- who are just as creative and crazy as her.
Erin’s life has crumbled. Not only has her fiancé run off with another woman, she realizes their entire relationship was a joke. After some soul-searching, and Googling, she jumps head first into a world that only existed in her darkest fantasies.
Bradley Sorenson has come to terms that he will never have a lasting relationship with a submissive. After all, no woman could see to his darker needs in the playroom and continue his brand of power exchange outside of it. But when Erin shows up at his BDSM club, looking for answers to questions he’s sure she doesn’t even understand, his resolve begins to weaken.
Bradley opens the door to this new world and escorts Erin inside, promising to show her everything she wants to see and more. But just as she begins to find contentment in her true self, she receives a letter that starts a chain of blackmail that could ultimately end her new relationship. Between the blackmail and her new self-awareness, Erin must fight the urge to creep back into the cage she’s so used to hiding in, and work to liberate her heart.
Beauty and The Beast
The forest is a terrible place to be lost when night has fallen, the tree branches have begun to dance, and the shadows cast down from the moon display certain death. Belle clenched her cloak tightly to her chest as she made her way down trail. Dead leaves scattered across the forest floor, crunching beneath her boots.
“Papa!” She yelled out again into the trees, losing more hope as the chilling moments passed that she would ever find her father again.
The woods gave way to a clearing. Upon seeing the opening, Belle quickened her steps, pushing branches from her way as she went. She breathed a great sigh as the sight of a looming castle came into view. Soft lights flickered from the windows, giving her one more boost in hope that her father was alive and sought shelter inside the castle.
Making her way up the stone steps to the wooden doors she ignored the burn of her lungs and the biting chill of the cold as she banged her fists against the entrance way. Her father had to be there. She’d found his cart, empty and broken, not far away, and the trail, the only one she’d seen led her to the ominous dwelling.
The dancing of candlelight continued to illuminate the lower windows, but no one stirred inside. She banged harder, and harder still, using her foot to kick the door when still there was no answer to her call.
With great frustration she shoved at the door, stumbling when it gave way easily to her weight and allowed her entrance into a great hall. After rebalancing herself, she took stock of her surroundings. Although dimly lit, she could make out the exquisite décor of the hall. The place looked to be well cared for, yet she heard, nor saw no one else.
“Papa!” She yelled into the vastness of the hall.
A soft sound returned her call. She rushed toward the large staircase, calling again for her father and once again hearing a muffled response. Faster she scrambled up the stairs, stumbling and regaining her footing several times.
Once on the next level she called again, and followed the mutterings to a new stairwell. Up and up she climbed until she found herself deep inside a tower. She began to pass entranceways to a line of cells, each empty.
“Belle! Is that you?” Her father’s voice at last clear, as she rounded the last turn and came to his cell, dirty and worn, but otherwise unharmed.
“What are you doing here?” A beastly voice bounced around the stoned hall as a man, larger than any other she ever set eyes on, stepped from the shadows. The single candle burning behind her illuminated his features. Several scars marred his face. Long hair hung wildly around his face, giving him a more savage look than she cared for at the moment.
“My- My father.” She hated the stutter of her speech, but terror had gripped her at his presence. Too many muscles, too much height for a normal man. “Please. Let him out, and I’ll take him home.”
The man snatched up the candle from the wall and stepped toward her, shining the light near her face. She tried not to flinch, to hold her ground, but as his own face came closer to her, she saw with more clarity the scars of his own face, and she looked away.
He pulled back sharply. “No. He trespassed and now is my prisoner.”
Anger rose in her chest, bubbling out of her mouth. “He was lost, seeking shelter from the cold night! His cart is broken. He meant you no harm!”
In a flash he was back at her side, his expression full of rage. “Go home.”
“He can’t stay here. He’s old, he’s sickly, he’ll die in here.”
“Then he shouldn’t have trespassed,” he snarled.
She looked past him, at her elderly father gripping the bars, fear and panic taking over his eyes. “I’ll stay, let him go,” she whispered for the beast to hear.
“What? No! Belle, no!” Her father beseeched her.
The beastly man eyed her, then with a loud snort he turned to her father’s cell and waved his hand over the lock. The door whipped open, and her father was dragged out, and carried off down the staircase.
Tears brimmed Belle’s eyes. She hadn’t gotten to say good bye.
Belle walked around her room. The beast hadn’t locked her in a cell like she assumed he would after he threw her father out of the castle. Instead he had grabbed her hand and dragged her to her room. Nearly larger than the cottage her and her father shared, she almost felt pampered. Until she heard the door lock after he left.
“Belle, it’s time for dinner.” The same voice that ordered her to join him for lunch came through the door. She stared at it. The craftsmanship of the carvings, the thickness of the wood, and wondered if he would eventually tear through it to get to her. Not that he needed to, he had the key, and the little chair she propped in front of it wouldn’t hold him back.
“I won’t ask again. The door’s unlocked. Open it for me, and we’ll have dinner.” She hesitated, watching the door still, as though she might be able to see through the wood and onto his expression. “Belle.” The warning in his tone got her feet moving, though she had no reason to want to obey him.
Not so much as a creak as she turned the knob and pulled the door open. He eyed her quietly, and raised an eyebrow at the misplaced chair at her side.
Heat creeped up into her cheeks. The man was massive; the tiny vanity chair was no more a threat than a falling leaf.
“Follow me.” He ordered and turned on his heal, taking several long strides before turning to see if she’d complied. She had not. “Belle.” He faced her, he rolled his shoulders back. “Follow, or I’ll drag you.”
Worrying her lower lip for a moment, she decided better to go willingly. Maybe he was just going to feed her, her stomach took the opportunity to growl. Another eyebrow arched at the sound, but he made no further comment.
The dining room was vast, but he ordered her to the seat beside his own.
“Did you cook this?” She spooned soup into her mouth.
“I have servants for that.” He picked up his bowl and drank down the meal in several large gulps. Looking around she didn’t see any servants. “If you are finished, I’ll show you around the castle. This is your home now, and I want you to be comfortable.”
“Home? My home is in my cottage with my father.” She placed the spoon down and tried to glare at him. The scar on his right cheek whitened with his clenched jaw.
“Until I say otherwise, this is your home. Now come.” He shoved away, jostling the table and knocking over a wine glass. He didn’t wait for her follow this time, he simply picked up her hand and began to walk.
She hustled to keep up with him, feeling his large hand engulf her own. He slowed his step when she began to breath heavily, and she was no longer being dragged. He softened his grip on her hand.
He pointed out great halls, larger rooms, and important areas of the castle that were once used but no longer held purpose. Any questions she asked went unanswered, until she asked about the door at the end of the hallway. It was locked, and painted purple, while all the others were white.
“You are never to go near that room.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Never.”
“What’s in it?”
“Not for you. It’s-“ He released her hand to rub the back of his neck. “It’s my curse and mine alone. You stay out of that room, or you’ll be punished.” Before she could ask anything else he whisked her back to her room and escorted her inside. Once again in her room, she felt the absence of his touch. Her hand no longer felt warm and secured in his grasp, but felt cold and abandoned.
Belle walked through the castle every day, wandering from room to room wondering what the beastly man did before becoming a recluse. Although he told her he had servants, she never once saw anyone. They shared every meal, and as the days passed she grew less weary of his stern expressions and dark tones.
After a week of full avoidance, she ventured down the hall with the forbidden door. Curiosity too strong to control, prompted her to try the handle. Unlocked. She grinned with excitement and pushed the door, letting herself in. One look around and she gasped.
It was a torture chamber! Chains, belts, paddles, whips, lined the walls. Benches and tables were scattered throughout the room, to restrain his victims no doubt. She wanted to scream, to run from the room but again her curiosity pulled her further. She began to touch the implements, feeling the weight of the wood in her hands, fondling leather of the floggers falls.
“I told you never to come in here.” A strained voice startled her, causing her to drop the flogger in her hand.
She turned, expecting to see him irate. A calmness settled in his eyes that she’d not seen since becoming his captive. Over the past few days, they had settled into easy conversations and seemed to be enjoying each other’s company- but never had he looked so- at home, as he did at that moment.
“I-I’m sorry.” She backed away, bumping into a padded leather bench.
“At being caught but not for being naughty.” He nodded, kicking the door shut behind him as he stalked to her.
She should flee, but her feet disobeyed. He moved with agility and grace, walking past her to the wall with the implements she’d just been toying with.
“I did tell you I would punish you if you came in here.”
“Y-you said this was your curse. I don’t understand.”
He remained silent as he pulled his shirt over his head, displaying all of the muscles she had already assumed where beneath. His pants hugged his narrow hips, giving her an eye full of his ass. Another heat washed over her, though not just on her face. Her nether regions began to warm as well when he turned to face her. His dark stare narrowed on her as he pulled his shoulder length hair back and tied it with a ribbon at the base of his neck. Every one of his scars could be seen, but for the first time since meeting this man, they no longer took center focus of his features. Dark brooding brown eyes stared at her, and lush, kissable lips pulled tight into a grin. She swallowed hard. He was gorgeous.
“Remove that dress, and your shift. I want you bare, completely naked.” He plucked the flogger off the floor and draped it over his shoulder. “Now, Belle.”
She hurried to do his bidding, no longer questioning her desire to obey, to please this man. Once she shimmied her way out of her dress and shift, she stood before him, her hands folded in front of her.
“Such a beauty you are.” He swiped his hand across her brow, brushing away a lock of her chestnut hair. “Your skin is so faire, so soft.” The back of his fingers trailed down her arm, stopping at her hip. “Your pussy is so wet, and wanting already, and I haven’t even started your punishment.” The words were crude, and confused her at first, until his fingers slid between her folds, and he ran them through her wetness.
Without any further words, he spun her, pressing her down over the bench until her chest flattened against the leather, and her backside stuck outward. “Do not move from this spot. You’ll take your spanking, and you’ll find out what my curse really is.”
She nodded, no longer having access to words. He dragged his fingers over her back, down her rounded bottom, before disappearing.
She wasn’t left alone long. The first smack of his hand against her ass jolted her with surprise and electricity. The second and third warmed her body, and by the time he’d applied a dozen sweltering slaps to her cheeks, she was gasping for air.
“I want to flog you, but your body is so soft, so supple, I won’t deny myself the feel of you beneath me.” The flogger clambered to the floor. “But next time, Belle, you’ll feel the leather against your ass.”
She lost count as he continued to reign down the smacks to her backside. What started out as a warmth, quickly spread into a white hot inferno. No longer able to stay still, she wiggled and pleaded for him to relent. He gave her another volley of hard swats to the curve of her ass.
“You won’t be sitting pretty tomorrow at breakfast. Which is fine, as I think having you kneeling will be more appropriate from now on.”
She wiped away the tears from her cheeks, but didn’t push herself up. He wasn’t finished with her, she could feel his tension, feel his need grow behind her. The shuffling of fabric came just before she felt his flesh pushing against her opening.
“Tell me to stop now, or I won’t be able to.” His breath came in ragged bursts, just as hers did.
She reached behind her back, looking for his hand. He grabbed it, pulled her other and pinned them to the small of her back.
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” She pushed back at him, needing to feel him, to feel his strength inside of her.
With one quick burst he pushed into her. The sharp pain that radiated through her at his thrust, dissipated quickly and she floated off into an oblivion of pleasure. “Don’t stop.” She cried as he pounded into her harder, and harder still. Her chest rubbed against the leather beneath her, but she didn’t care.
So full, so stretched, and so full of his power she bucked against him chasing down and erratic sensation she didn’t understand.
His fingers flittered beneath her, touching the swollen nub of her sex. “Oh fuck!” She yelled out, not even embarrassed at her crude words.
“Again, Belle. Say it again.” He urged her and again she obeyed without question.
“Oh!” She screamed and bucked back at him as her body shattered into a million pieces. Flashes of colors floated before her eyes, the sounds of him thrusting into her came from a far off distance. The only thing she could focus on was his words.
“Good girl! My good, Belle!” He pinned her back down across the bench as she floated back to her own mind. He fucked her harder, faster, until his own cry of relief filled the room.
Long moments went by before he moved again. His lips brushed against her back as he left her body, only to return a moment later with a cloth. Once she was cleaned up, he helped her stand and lifted her into his arms.
He cradled her close to him as he carried her to his room. She’d seen it during the tour, but not since. He lied her in his bed, and climbed in next to her.
Belle opened her eyes and gazed up at him. The scars faded, not completely gone, but no longer completely marring his skin. She reached up and touched him. “Such pain you must have felt.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t think that room is your curse. I think it’s my blessing- our blessing.” He kissed her chin. “I am your beauty, and you are my beast.” He kissed her mouth, a long, hard kiss that stole the very breath from her.
“You’ll stay forever?”
“Forever.” She promised. “My father?”
“We’ll find him, and he can live here with us. But you’ll never leave?”
“Then the curse is broken.”
“As you said- the pain, the beauty, all that is in that room is our blessing.”
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