“At least he gave you a house-full of sex toys. He may not have wanted any actual men getting anywhere near you, but at least he didn’t mind leaving you other options.”
“Which I could never use! That’s gross. As if I’d actually be ok using house-staff-turned-into-sex-toys. You guys were people I knew. Are people, I mean. Under the curse. What the fuck was wrong with that man, anyway? Who casts spells like that?”
“But he’s gone now, Belle. And you seem to be the only one in the manor who can leave the house. In any form. Aren’t you curious to see if you can leave the grounds completely? Maybe you could go into town and see Gastard. You could ask him why he never came back…”
“I could ask him? Really? Do you think he speaks monster? You think he could translate my weird barking noises into the words, why did you never come back for me? And that’s if he even lets me get close enough to make any noises. He’d get a posse together and hunt me. He’d shoot me on site without ever knowing it was me!”
“All I’m saying is that if I were you, I’d at least try. Your dad was weird. Maybe his oddly inventive, heat-of-the-moment spell doesn’t even have any power once you leave the grounds. Maybe there’s just a curse-bubble over us that, if you face your own vanity and burst through it, willing to go to your one true love no matter how you look, maybe that would break the spell. I hear that true love does weird things to curses.”
“Oh, my God. Do you think so? Could it really be that easy?”
“I don’t know. For all I know the curse gets even worse the further away you get from the manor. Maybe once you leave the gates you become something even worse than an odd-breed shifter. Or maybe you can’t even get past the gates at all, like we can’t get past the front damn door.
I’m just saying that for all your whining and moping and aching for Gastard and his cock, you’ve never really tried very hard to get to him, have you?”
Belle just sat there, blinking at her in response.
After a few awkward moments of silence, she started to apologize.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that. It’s just that some days the curse gets to me, too. Vibiere is great and all, and I’m happy to have him, but I had a life outside of here, too, you know.
I wasn’t the one caught by my dad in bed with some guy from the wrong side of the tracks, but I still get to spend my days now as a fucking talking vibrator. It’s not fair. I only took this housekeeping job to save up for school. Salary, room and board, that’s practically unheard of anymore. It was a great job, until your dad turned us all into fucking objects. Literally.
This isn’t my idea of fun either, you know. But I still shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“You’re right.”
“Are you mad? I’d never have spoken to the lady of the house like that before, hell your dad would’ve fired me if he heard…”
“No, I’m not mad. And I didn’t mean you’re right that you shouldn’t speak to me like that. I’m glad you said those things. I meant that you’re right- I haven’t really tried at all, have I? Let’s do it. Tonight.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Tonight, after it gets dark, when there’s less of a chance of me being seen in that beastly form, I’ll try to go to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Gastard
Gastard tilted back yet another double-shot of whiskey and followed it with some beer and a heavy sigh.
He spent every single day trying to find a way past that damned invisible wall Belle’s father erected around the manor the last night he’d seen her, and he spent every single night sitting here in this bar, beating himself up over failing. He just knew, every time he set out again, day after day, that this would be the day he’d find a way through the cursed thing and that he’d be reunited with his love by nightfall, holding her in his arms instead of sitting in this bar, defeated yet again.
Every. Damn. Day.
And every single night he found himself here again instead, sitting on the same damn stool, with the same damn fools. He’d knock back yet another double to try and forget, even for just one night, what it felt like to be so lonely. He missed her so badly that he thought he’d actually burst from it. He ached for her so much that it hurt.
He knew he’d become the laughing stock of the town, as every fucking night he heard them whispering and talking about him, but he didn’t care.
“No one’s swole like Gastard, like a bull, that Gastard! No one’s balls are as incredibly full as Gastard’s!”
He mentally rolled his eyes as their teasing words reached his ears. You make the mistake of telling one person that not only did your girlfriend’s crazy-ass father catch you in bed together and chase you out of the house, naked as the day you were born, but that he’d also had the bad form to curse you to your retreating back by yelling, “And may your balls never again know release!” as you left, and boom, before you knew it the news was all over town.
He couldn’t orgasm, thanks to his curse.
He’d tried, too. During the long, frustrating nights, after he’d failed yet again both to get back to her and to drink enough to forget her just for a while, he used to re-play some of the sexy romps he and Belle had shared, in his mind. Just to try to release some of the pressure and sleep, so he could rest in preparation for another long day of trying to break through her father’s cursed spell wall. But try as he might, he never could attain release.
It became a challenge there for a while, yanking himself every night just to prove to himself that the old man’s curse had no effect on him, but it was obvious that it did.
He could jack off until he was raw, but there was no release to be found. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t come.