The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For Whom Belle Trolls

by Kris P. Kreme

The air was rather humid for a late October day. At least that was what Philip Cresten first thought as he parked the truck on the shady suburban street. In the distance, some kids ran alongside a small dog, laughing at nothing in the way kids often do. On one porch a few homes down, an elderly man sat rocking in a chair. He seemed to be sound asleep, if Philip’s eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

Grabbing the clipboard from the passenger seat, Philip opened the door, trying to find the autumn air somewhere behind the sticky dampness that greeted him. He walked to the back of the truck, unlocking and lifting the sliding overhead door.

“Hey Tommy, dare ya to go over there!”

The voice rang out sharply and Philip turned to see the kids running his way. Their little dog had already noticed the newcomer and was, unfortunately, making a beeline right at his heels.

“No way, man!” another kid said. His voice struck Philip as genuinely scared, a sudden contrast to the amusement the three kids seemed to be previously enjoying.

As Philip dug around in the back of his truck, trying to find the package, he half-listened in as the kids seemed to be telling scary stories to one another. Halloween was ordinarily a fun time of the year; at least it was back when Philip had been their age. Now, he only thought about the weather. Unseasonably warm sort of spoiled the mood for him.

“I’ll bet you’re just a chicken,” the first boy said.

The lone girl in the group was preoccupied with restraining the small dog, currently struggling to break loose and no doubt show Philip how much he loved his pant leg.

“Am not! Don’t you know what they say about the woman that lives there?”

If the first boy did know, he clearly wasn’t saying. Instead he started a little chant. “Tommy is a chicken, Tommy is a chicken, Tommy is a chicken!”

“AM NOT!” Tommy nearly shouted.

Philip looked out from the back of his truck. All three kids looked completely serious, and all three seemed focused on the house nearby.

“Stop it, Nick!” The girl said, firmly holding the collar of the little dog. “You know the story of Belle and her beast.”

Nick seemed to be the troublemaker of the group. Even Philip could hone in on that quality. Maybe it was his own tendency to be the troublemaker when he was that age. They could recognize their own. Whatever it was, Nick was definitely enjoying scaring his friends.

“You’re both too scared of Belle’s beast to even go ring the doorbell? Chickens!”

“She’s a witch!” Tommy whispered. It was that mock whisper people only do when pretending to lower their voice.

The girl stood close to him. “And she feeds little children like us to her beast.”

Philip finally found the package he was looking for and turned to listen more closely. None of the kids seemed to care that he was standing there. The most interest he’d garnered was from their little mutt who now seemed to be choking himself as Philip looked down at him.

“You know what they really say about Belle?” Nick began, making his voice low and creepy. “They say she never ages and that she sucks the life juices out of any who meet her face to face. It’s how she stays young.”

Nick raised his hands and shook them. “Boogity boogity!”

And as quickly as the odd little conversation had started, it ended. Nick went running off past the truck. The other two followed, the poor little pooch practically being dragged by its collar.

Shaking his head, Philip checked the address on the package against his clipboard, then looked down the sidewalk in either direction. The name listed was Bellemina Scorsosi. He laughed a little. Lucky him. Looked as if he’d be getting the infamous Belle’s signature.

The house sat back a ways from the road. Ordinarily, this didn’t phase Philip, but, with the humidity, he was up for a quick drop off and then back to the merciful air conditioning of the truck. He took the package up to the porch, passing large stone lions and overgrown ivy. The door was made from ancient-looking mahogany, the iron knocker looking even older.

Setting the box down, Philip held the clipboard and rang the doorbell. From somewhere inside he heard a chiming of bells in what he swore seemed to be a funerary march.

Halloween, he thought, laughing.

Minutes passed and no one came to the door. The air, if anything, seemed to be getting warmer, and the novelty of this place was wearing thin. He gripped the iron knocker and slammed it up and down, making far more noise than he’d intended.

Somewhere on the second floor he heard a crash. Stepping back, Philip heard loud thudding footsteps tromping down old wooden stairs.

“Who dares disturb my slumber!” Came a shout from the other side of the door.

The woman, if that voice really could be attributed to a woman, sounded strained and smoke-tinged. If this was the Belle those children had feared, he didn’t quite understand the comment about staying young. She sounded rather ancient.

“Um . . . I have a delivery here for a Bellemina Scorsosi. I need to get a signature.” He rather nervously replied, picking up the box.

There was the click of locks, more than one he thought. Then the massive door swung inward on somewhat appropriately squeaky hinges. Philip straightened up, feeling the shiver run down his spine as he prepared to meet the body behind that voice.

Something large and black lunged at him, with the distinct flash of razor sharp teeth. “ROAWRRR!”

Philip jumped back, nearly tossing the package across the yard. He managed to maintain his grip but did succeed in sending his clipboard to the porch floor.

Whatever had lunged at him was reined in as Philip looked down at his feet. When he kneeled down to pick up the fallen clipboard, a beautiful pair of legs stepped into view.

“Now, that’s no way to treat our guest.”

Philip stared right into the snarling face of what he couldn’t quite decide was either a wolf or a dog. Either way, the name gleaming on its collar seemed very appropriate. Beast, he thought, so this was the beast those kids were afraid of?

Smart kids.

Taking the clipboard in his hand, Philip looked up and grew distracted by the mysterious Belle. She wasn’t a thing like he’d guessed. Her voice no longer even sounded gravelly or strained. Her figure was that of a twenty year old goddess, legs right at eye level where he kneeled. She wore a black dress, cinched tight in just the right places. Her breasts were trying to escape and he found the not-so-unwanted thought drifting into his mind that he’d very much enjoy helping them escape.

“Well, if that isn’t a respectful way to greet me, I don’t know what is.” Belle said. Every syllable she spoke dripped with sexual undertones.

Philip stared for another moment, wondering if it was, in fact, possible to fall in love at first sight. Maybe, he corrected, lust would be a better word.

He shook his head. “Sorry ma’am. Dropped my clipboard.”

Belle pouted and looked down at the menacing Beast. “Aw . . . you mean you don’t usually bow at a woman’s feet?”

She laughed and Philip forgot all about the humidity in the air. Her fluttering tones, the cheerful melody of her giggle . . . they both soothed him and tensed him simultaneously.

“My apologies for Beast. He’s getting used to his new collar.” Belle said.

Philip raised the package and handed it to Belle, placing one hand on the porch to stand up. As he did, he couldn’t help but look right at the collar she mentioned. A small silver plate was engraved with the word “Beast” in bold scripted letters. The collar was black, leather supposedly, with studded spikes and something else.

As Philip found himself leaning in closer, forgetting the fact this collar was on a huge territorial creature, he felt somewhat dazed, looking at the small silver something or other partially hidden beneath the name plate.

“So I need to sign, right?” Belle said.

Philip realized he was still staring at the collar as he raised the clipboard. Suddenly Beast backed off into the house. The collar shifted and revealed what he’d been trying to identify. It was a tiny silver bell. And, now that the dog moved, Philip heard that bell ring.

He slumped his shoulders as the bell played a gentle few notes, the music floating into his brain, echoing throughout his skull and making him forget where he was for the moment.

Belle looked down at Beast and smiled. “Good boy, very good boy. Now, go play. Momma has a new toy to break in.”

Philip felt soft caressing hands lift him up until he was standing. He looked over at Belle, the woman of his fantasies. He grinned like a little boy and let her take him into her home. Soon, he was laying on her bed, watching her tug at his pants. He sank back into the music of his mind, feeling his hardness spring into the open.

“My, you’re a big boy, aren’t you?” Belle said.

She licked her lips and stood before the bed, hungrily looking at her unwrapped gift. “You’ll serve me for some time with such impressive attributes.”

Philip watched Belle lower her dress over her shoulders. He watched her strip, revealing her nudity underneath. She was perfection in two-legged form, her skin radiating suppleness he wanted to taste, to stroke, to invade. And he watched as her eyes grew dark and deep, a pit opening in those limpid pools from which he knew he’d never climb out.

Focusing his relaxed, leisurely stare at her breasts, Philip felt his mouth water in the anticipation of what he wanted to do. Belle simply slit her eyes as she lowered her body onto his.

The bed creaked slightly, the only other sounds gentle soothing moans coming from Belle’s perfect throat. She gasped again and again, seeming to look even more radiant with every downward thrust. Her tits were the stuff Philip used to dream about, full, creamy, soft. As they bounced slowly from side to side, up and down, he grinned and listened to the distant echoes of his own thoughts.

Philip thought about the kids outside. He thought about what they’d said. Belle was a witch and she drained life juices to keep herself young. He grunted and felt more than a small volume of his own juices spraying deep inside the dark beauty. Never before had he felt something squeeze so much out of him. Never before had he cum so deeply, so fully.

Belle laid a hand on her belly, caressing her womb, now filled with Philip’s seed. She rocked slowly on top of him, sealing herself from losing anything he’d given her, and slowly bringing him back to a miraculous recovery. He smiled. If that was what she needed, he would serve her very well indeed.

As Belle lifted Philip’s hands to lightly squeeze her full breasts, there was a low rumbling growl from the hallway outside. Philip hardly paid it any attention, already feeling close to filling this goddess up yet again. He did realize something, though. He realized the kids had one part wrong in their story.

It wasn’t Belle’s Beast one needed to worry about. It was Beast’s Bell. It was the last thought Philip would have on his own.