Non-sentient candlesticks, buckets, broomsticks, and more went tumbling down the stairs as the Beast furiously made his way downstairs, crashing into everything he could find. He only left out of fear of seriously injuring her in his rage, but then again that was a possibility even when she wasn't locked in the dungeon.

After leaving the stairwell that lead to the tower, he trotted over to the great staircase in order to retreat to the West Wing, only to find a very livid teapot seated on the second stair from the bottom.

"I suppose pleadin' with you to let the poor girl go is pointless?"

"It's for her own good," his voice thundered.

Mrs. Potts scowled at the Beast in such a way that she began to quiver so violently she looked as if she was about to shatter.

"Master, I've stood by you for years through a great many t'ings- the enchantment, your temper tantrums, the great fan fiction crisis of 1762, but this m'lord, is where I draw the line."

"Mrs. Potts, if you would let me explain-"

"EXPLAIN WHAT? The bloody awful things you plan t'do to the poor child? It takes quite a lot to make this ol' tea kettle boil, and quite honestly, m'lord, I t'ink your water is about to BOIL OVER!"

The Beast, already ready to break something else, managed to hold his rage inside as he ambled to the top of the staircase. He turned to face her.

"If I catch any of you attempting to interfere with my plans once more- yes, I know about earlier," he snarled, acknowledging her look of surprise, "there will be serious consequences. I saw the crowd that had gathered beneath the window. Don't think that I won't notice anything else."

Mrs. Potts fumed silently as he turned to retire for the night.

"Oh, and one more thing I should add," he called out, peering between the bars of the railing.

"What is that, m'lord?" the tea kettle acquiesced, tuning around to face him.

"She will be punished as well, doubly so, if she is involved with any of your schemes. Good night."

Belle began to sob in exhaustion and frustration. The ropes hurt, her welts stung, and rage boiled inside her. Her hair hung over her head like a mop, soaked from the sweat, as the icy atmosphere dried them into random messy locks. Her lips felt chapped and her stomach grumbled in hunger.

He had tied her in such a way that her knees touched the floor, but this position soon became unbearable. She dragged her toes against the stones in an attempt to pull herself up. To say that this was futile would be an understatement. She scrambled and flailed for a bit before giving up.

Next, she considered somehow dragging herself back over to the window, but it was sealed tight and those who had promised to catch her had probably regrouped inside the castle.

Was he insane? Belle knew that he had a recalcitrant temper, but to submit to him and call him "Master?" Give Gaston some credit, at least he didn't bind her to a bench and strike her with a whip.

She surveyed the rest of his "tools" scattered about on the floor. The whip was the only thing she could name, save for a paddle she noticed upon another reconnaissance.

The ropes seemed to dig even deeper than they had before, causing her skin to feel as if it were on fire and forcing her to return her head to its previous position. Having slept for the most of the day, she was unable to recede back into her previous fantasy. She decided to ease her pain and boredom by counting the stones that made up the walls and floor.

Before crawling into his nest of blankets and pillows, the Beast examined the rose as he did every night. It was surrounded by the same amount of petals and seemed intact, which put his mind slightly at ease. Feeling the chill in the air, he shut the glass door to the outside world and crawled silently into bed.

Before he nodded off he gently tended to his matted fur, pulling out the knots with his teeth and licking it over with his large, raspy tongue. He thought about the maiden trapped in his tower, tied to the bench, bruised and miserable. Eerily, he both expected and passionately adored her defiance. Though her audacity still agitated the monster inside him, he admired her rebellion. Too bad it would have to be done away with…

Then again, it was rather chilly, and she had been there for quite a while on her own. Maybe it was time to see if she was ready to cooperate.

At stone eight hundred ninety two, Belle began to hear claws clicking on the stairs outside the door.

At stone nine hundred four, Belle could hear a key in the keyhole.

At stone nine hundred sixteen, Belle could hear claws clicking across the floor.

At stone nine hundred twenty eight, Belle could hear a load of something soft being dropped on the floor.

Upon further inspection, it appeared to be an assortment of quilts and comforters.

"How are you feeling, Belle?"

Belle wanted to come up with a snaky response, but she was not in the mood for another round of stone-counting.

"Awful."

"And why is that?"

"Because you've tied me to-"

"What was that?" he snarled, raising the whip, causing Belle to lower her head.

"Because my master tied me to a bench and whipped me."

"And why did I tie you to a bench and whip you?"

"B-because…" Belle thought for a second, unable to come up with an answer. "I'm not sure why, Sir."

"Could it be because you were being disobedient?" he growled, pacing slowly around her on all fours. "I instructed you to remain in the position that I had designated, did I not?"

"Y-yes, sir." Belle caught on quickly. It was the only way to get on his good side.

"Why did you misbehave, then?"

"Because it caused me pain, Sir."

"Which hurts more, sitting up on your legs for an extended period of time, or your punishment?"

"The punishment, Sir."

"Will you disobey me the next time I ask something so simple?"

"No, Sir." Belle was on the verge of tears again. The Beast stood on his hind legs and began to untie the ropes, studying her bruises.

"All is forgiven," he murmured, gently stroking her skin with the pads of his paws.

"Wait- what?" She turned to face him and rolled over slightly.

"I forgive you. I will not punish you for this incident again."

Belle was… shocked, to say the least. The Beast seemed like the type to bring up random, forgotten nonsense in the middle of unrelated arguments. She hesitantly reached out to stroke his mane.

"Th-thank you, sir."

He gently accepted her hand, taking it into his own paw, and began to stroke it. Belle was surprised at how soft yet tough they were.

"Are you cold, Belle?" he asked suddenly. She looked up at him, amazed that he had gone from berating her to being humane so quickly.

"Yes, Master."

Without another word he scooped her up into his arms.

"What are you-?"

"Hush," he rumbled. The Beast lowered her into the nest of blankets. Belle quietly made herself comfortable as he settled in beside her. Nervously, he reached his arm around her and pulled his prisoner into his warm, flocculent body. Belle trembled slightly, though this was a welcome improvement over her previous situation. She wiggled her arms free and held his against herself.

"Belle?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Are you comfortable?"

"Y-yes, Sir."

"You hesitated. Be truthful, or else I will have to punish you again."

"But you said-"

"I said that I would not punish you for your previous infraction."

Belle looked away.

"… My back hurts."

"Is that it?" he asked, looking over her bruises.

"Everything hurts, Master."

The Beast pulled away and rose to all fours. Belle watched him fearfully. Would he beat her over this, too? He had asked her to candid about her pain…

"Roll over," he commanded softly.

Belle did as she was told and braced herself for the icy sting across her back. Would he use the whip again this time, or something else?

She quivered as the Beast lightly ran his wet, raspy tongue down her back and over her wounds. He was… bathing her? Belle didn't know what to think about this. At first she was slightly disgusted, but as he went on, the pain from her welts seemed to fade away.

Belle's tense muscles relaxed with each gentle lap, and she giggled madly at the stark contrast of her previous pain and this surprising pleasure. He traced the tips of his claws down the sides of her figure, adding to the experience. Occasionally she could feel his cuspidate teeth brushing against her- dry, strong intimidating. Her stomach tightened as she lowered herself back into the blankets.

The Beast, certain that he had addressed every wound, settled back into his previous spot and pulled his prisoner back into his arms. Belle accepted without any hint of animosity. He stroked her hair as he began to drift off.

"Goodnight, Belle."

"Goodnight, Master."

.AN. I usually have the next three chapters at a time written and prepared, so that I can let them sit for a while and revisit them before editing, thesaurus-inflating, typing, and posting, so whenever I get a message about something specific from the last posted chapter, I have a brief moment of confusion over what you're talking about. XD

Let me make something clear- Belle is probably my favorite character out of any movie period. I would never let the Beast rape her, and I would never completely ignore why she fell in love with him in the first place. I would never let any of that happen for the sake of shameless smut. No more messages over that, please! I feel like the grandfather in The Princess Bride!

Before I forget, this story is also being hosted on in case it is taken down here. It is not being hosted on my deviantART account (which is under a different username, SallysFunnyKiss). Please tell me if you see it elsewhere. Thanks! .AN.