Free Mrs. Beast by Pamela Ditchoff

live with them, of Vanita's attempts on my life, and about my wedding.   I was listening at the top of the stairs and I heard every word.   I guess you want to know what happened after I married my prince."   Snow White's gaze drifts to Beauty's tattoo.   Did that hurt?"
         "Not while he was doing it; I was unconscious."
         "Did it bleed?"
         "Not much."
         "Three drops?   Would you guess three drops?"
         "Yes, three drops."
         Beauty rises and walks to the window.   From the position of the moon, she estimates it's near midnight.
         "How about when he pierced you with the other needle?"   Snow White's voice is a coarse whisper at Beauty's back.   "The one between his legs.   Did it hurt?   Did you bleed on your wedding night?"
         Beauty turns about slowly.   Snow White is chewing on her thumbnail; she tears away a cuticle and grinds it between her front teeth.  
     
    *       *       *
     
         "And you think The Young and The Restless is juicy," Elora says to Croesus whose nose is pressed against the crystal ball.   They had been watching a meteor shower atop the Deco palace roof when Snow White's knock on Beauty's door sounded from the ball.
         "You can bet your last box of Milk Bones Beauty won't talk about her wedding night.   I was there, and believe me, it was no Victoria's Secret fantasy.   Look, a shooting star," Elora points to a blazing white trail through the black sky.
         Croesus paws Elora's leg and perks up his ears.
         "You're a shameless gossip hound, and I love you for that," she says and kisses the round bump on the top of his head.
         “Okay . . . after I turned Violet and Daisy to stone, I turned myself into a horsefly for the wedding reception.   Runyon was the life of the party, pouring champagne, dancing with all the women, and some of the men.   When the musicians fell on the floor, drunk and exhausted, Runyon plunked his pretty self at the harpsichord and played for an hour.   He was radiant with charm. Women fluttered around him like moths, and I could tell, resting on Beauty's veil, that she wanted to have him to herself.   I rode that veil up the stairs and into the boudoir.   Bride and groom slipped between the sheets and I flew onto the headboard.   Beauty nuzzled Runyon's naked chest, as had been her habit in pre-mating with the Beast.   Runyon wrapped his hands in her chestnut locks, pulled her head backward and kissed her cherry pink lips.   He explored every inch of her body with his soft, supple hands, caressing places the Beast's claws had not been able to touch."
         Croesus' eyes grow large and liquid.   Elora passes her hand over her throat and speaks in the voices of the newlyweds.
         "Am I not the gweatest wover?
         Yes, yes.
         Much better than the filthy beast?
         Yes, yes, my love!" Elora squeals and Croesus howls.
         "No, no.   After two embarrassingly brief minutes, Prince Runyon was spent.   Beauty's first time with the Beast had taken two hours, and even so, he allowed only half his staff to breach her maidenhead.   When Beauty had uttered those three little words and changed Runyon back to the prince, all his beastly parts were transformed to what they once were."   Elora arches an eyebrow and smirks.   "Small."
         Croesus wheezes a derisive doggy laugh.
         "Beauty snuggled against his arm and kissed the inside of his elbow."   Again, Elora passes her hand over her throat.
         "Don't be ridicuwass," she snarls in Runyon's voice. "You don't need to pwetend.
         Husband, I assure you . . .
         You're a wiar.
         My prince, I do not tell lies.
         Right, I forgot.   Beauty the perfect, Beauty the fairest, Beauty the swut of a beast.
         Runyon.   That beast was you!
         Throw it up in my face! Beauty the spell-bwayker. I'm supposed to be forever in your