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ot just me! What about Kar...Vipsania? Why am I the only one who has to be punished?"
"Make no mistake, I will punish her in my own way later, but we're here. Now. And in your favorite playroom, no less."
She began to shiver in anticipation.
"I think you've had enough of the paddle. De Vries let's graduate Domina to the strap."
Given how she was acting tonight, I knew she wanted it severe. I had already given De Vries a hand signal on how forceful and how many blows he should land. These hand signals developed between myself and the Doms over the course of the past year, allowing us to communicate without Gloria knowing; and as such, she couldn't anticipate the severity of her punishment from one moment to the next.
Gloria's eyes went wide at the first blow to her buttocks. The sound of it was almost deafening as it reverberated off the cinder block walls.
There was a long, prearranged pause. "Count," I commanded, softly.
Gloria screamed, "Two!" when the second blow landed.
The third blow came harder and quicker than she expected. She forced out, "Th-Three!" as tears streamed down her cheeks.
There was another, even longer pause where Gloria's facial features relaxed...
...And then she went wide-eyed with surprise and pain when the four blow was landed.
Besides surprise, I saw true panic behind her eyes. Ordinarily, we never took the strap past three blows at any one session interval. This time would be different.
Tears streamed down her cheeks anew, and she was blowing air rapidly as the fifth blow landed.
Holding herself overly rigid, and causing her taut muscles to tremble and body shiver, she stared at me with an unexpected defiant expression. Other than her rapid panting, she didn't utter a sound. She looked genuinely mad at me.
"I thought this is what you wanted. Am I mistaken?" She just continued to stare back at me. I gave another signal to De Vries as I said, "No? Fine."
The sixth blow he landed was wicked, causing Gloria to abruptly belch air out as a loud grunt.
"Six!" she belted out of her lungs before she began to wail.
"That's better, and that snotty look you had is gone as well."
She continued counting and wailing through eight, at which point I signaled De Vries to stop.
The rigidity of her body didn't leave until I held her face between my two hands and kissed her. The taste of salt from her sweat made for a fine seasoning, while the scent of her arousal as it ran down her thighs was intoxicating.
"You disappointed me tonight."
"I know," she squeaked out between soft sobs.
"Why?"
She just shook her head as an answer, and continued to sob.
Again she tried to reach me with her lips for another kiss, but I stepped away and behind her instead. I saw her body go rigid in anticipation of more pain.
"Relax, my sweet."
Her buttocks glowed red and were blistered by several long welts crisscrossing each other. I could almost feel the heat radiating off her now, rosy globes.
Kissing her lightly at the nape of her neck, I gently squeezed one of her tortured buttocks, and sending blissful warmth cascading through her body. She uttered a loud sigh of pleasure when a placed a hand on the other cheek, and then massaged them both.
I asked again. "Why do you go out of your way to disappoint me?"
The question and its tone made her body go rigid again in cautious anticipation.
She yelled when I reached around and gripped a breast hard. I said close to her ear, "I guess you're much too stressed to answer. We should relax your muscles a bit before I ask again, and then I'd like an answer." Stepping away from her, I commanded, "De Vries, ginger."
Ginger root is sometimes used by bondage devotees to heighten the intensity of the punishment. Normally, a single root is skinned, and then carved into the shape of a phallus or plug. It's then inserted into an orifice, usually the anus, but it can be inserted vaginally, as well. The oils of the ginger root are irritating to whatever it comes in contact with, producing a severe burning sensation. If inserted anally, the irritation keeps the devotee from tightening their gluts against the coming blow from the strap, whip, or paddle, thus increasing the pain—and ultimately the pleasure.
Being an expert, it took De Vries only a few minutes to carve a well-shaped plug. Parting her cheeks, he easily slipped the ginger plug into her ass and seated it snugly.
I asked quietly in Gloria's ear, "I know we've never used it together, but is it new to you?"
She panted out, "It burns."
"It will go better if you relax."
Even before I finished my statement, De Vries came down with another wicked strike.
New levels of pain never touched before spread across her pretty features. Her mouth and eyes contorted into a panoply of emotion ranging from shock, to searing anguish, and ending in surprise. It all flashed across her face in an instant.
"I see it is new to you. Different, isn't it, now that you can't tighten the muscles against the blows of the strap."
She gurgled something indistinct as sweat poured from her brow.
"Count."
I only took her to six.
I was still uncomfortable with the punishment areas of sex, using it sparingly to discipline Karen that one time—and that was very mild compared to what Gloria expected of me. That said, it was difficult to watch the pain continually unfold across Gloria's face each time De Vries brought down the strap—and the pain was almost unfathomable for her by my reckoning. Yet, on the last two strikes, I saw a small smile crease her lips. It peeked out momentarily through all the facial contortions brought on by De Vries' handiwork. It was a subtle smile of joy and pleasure. The ginger was beginning to work its magic as the burning irritation morphed into an intense, warming bliss—pleasure born from pain.
When I cupped her buttocks in my hands and massaged them firmly but sweetly, the warming pleasure intensified further, and her whole body melted into mine.
Her breathing was deep but irregular, as she said into my chest, "It's because I love you."
"I know you do, but there is more going on inside you than you let on. And your secretiveness distresses me even more than your disrespect for Vipsania."
She said with a hint of sarcasm, "How can I have secrets from you, the great, all-knowing...all-powerful Tiberius?"
Her sarcasm surprised me. I laughed at her cheekiness and hugged her to me tightly. "Haven't you noticed? As time passes, I can't read any of you as well as I used to. You're all becoming 'blank' to me."
"Blank?"
"It doesn't matter, but things are changing."
"Are you losing your powers?"
"Only in some areas, and only with those closest to me, like you and Karen. I can't read your thoughts as well as I use to. As such, you can keep secrets from me," I ended my explanation with a smile.
She reached for my lips again, and I let her capture them. Long and sweet she kissed me until I forgot about the changes that were occurring within us.
I smiled down at her again. "Now, show me how much you love me. Tell me your secrets."
"After. Lower me, my sweet."
She knew me all too well, probably better than I knew her. Unlike most Doms, who could easily make love after violently flogging their partners, our punishment sessions never gave me wood. Gloria knew and understood this about me.
I know she loves these moments on her knees as much as I, servicing my cock and preparing me to fuck her silly. It's just one of many, tangible ways she exhibits her love for me.
Her wrists stayed bound together, but she doesn't care, preferring to work my cock to hardness using just her mouth. For me, besides the wonderful oral attention from someone who loves to suck my cock, the contrast between her hot mouth nibbling, licking, and sucking me against the coolness of her binding chains was amazing.
Both of us became lost in it all. My cock, now made hard and slick by her playful mouth, dripped thick strands of saliva onto the floor and her breasts. Seemingly taking no notice of my arousal, she continued to ply her hot and still hungry mouth to it until I almost came.
Grabbing a hunk of her hair, she loudly gasped her disapproval when I pulled her head away from my groin.
"Naughty, naughty slut, you almost made me come. You know that isn't allowed, now get up!"
Just as she got up onto her feet, I had De Vries pull her body taught with the winch. Her big toes were barely touching the floor. The rest flailed in mid-air.
Smoothing her cheek with a hand, I asked, "How's that ginger holding up? Still burns?"
Before she could answer, De Vries brought the strap down across her already tender ass.
"Look at that, I've lost my wood. It always happens in these moments. I don't like seeing you punished like this. It destresses me even more than when you fight with Vipsania."
This was the game we've been playing for the past six months or so. Gloria would do something that would demand punishment, then ply that playful mouth to get me hard, only to do something else to justify more punishment—wash, rinse, repeat. It was how she derived quality time between us. As I said before, mostly because she had developed a true taste for the art of control, but also because discipline and punishment was the one area of human sexual encounter that Karen didn't care to partake. That meant our sessions together were for us, alone.
I took her to ten this time.
She stared at me, shivering, her disheveled hair was matted to her face by her sweat. She pulled weakly on the leather shackles and metal chains between soft whimpers of discomfort and shame, trying to garner some slack so that she could at least stand flat on her feet.
"Should we graduate to the whip? To your back?"
She stopped the whimpering and fussing with her hands. Her eyes went wide and there was real terror behind them. "No!"
"Then are you going to play nice for the rest of the evening? Play nice with Vipsania? If I lose wood again because of more of your insolence, then my retributions will come with true pain."
"Yes! Sir!"
I looked deep into her eyes...deep into her soul...and saw only truth and love there. "Good girl."
I wrapped her up in my arms again, and again she melted into me as the pain was turned into warming bliss by my massaging hands.
"Lower her again, De Vries."
De Vries gently put her on her knees, and Gloria requested a bit of slack in the chains so she could use her hands along with her mouth. It didn't take her long getting me slick and hard, again. Then laying my slickened cock against her flush cheek, she looked up at me doe-eyed, and said, "Now fuck me like the whore I am."
"Why do you call yourself that?" I asked, barely concealing my anger.
She answered, slowly and sweetly, "Because I am a whore. Because I'm your whore. And most of all, because I want to be your whore. And oh how I love it when you to treat me like your whore." She continued staring up at me with her innocent, pining eyes, all while she seductively kissed and licked about my cock and balls.
I have never seen anything as angelic and demonic and wrapped up in the same person and at the same time. Not even the twins could pose such a contradiction as Gloria did to me.
"If that is what you want. So be it. De Vries, lift her! Higher. Higher still. Stop!"
De Vries pulled her up until she dangled totally above the floor and with her groin slightly lower than mine. She groaned under her own weight as it bore uncomfortably down on all the joints of her arms.
Touching her cheek, I felt small beads of sweat beginning to form. "Woman after beautiful woman offered themselves to me, as is commonplace now. Husbands offered me their wives to do with as I desire. And both offered me their children and their children's lives. They offered me everything as tribute to me and my house, just for the small favor of fucking them, or letting them choke on my cock and swallow my cum. Enduring all that temptation all in my long journey to you, I turned them all down. I even turned down my own wife's advances just so you could be my first; so that I could offer myself to you clean and unsullied, and free from the taint of any of the evening's offerings." I paused for a moment to see tears falling from her eyes. Then cupping her cheeks in my hands, I confirmed the truth of us, "My sweet, don't you see? I have become *your* whore."
Stepping back and away from her, I could see the recognition of the truth of it unfold across her face. She made a half-hearted attempt to deny it, to refuse my caricature of myself, but she couldn't lie to herself. And most of all, she couldn't lie to me.
Aping her words from a moment ago, I said, "I am your whore, and most of all I love being your whore. I desire it as I desire to live. Because I. Love. You. Now, from one whore who is in love with another, reach for me and do your best."
I saw a fire ignite in her eyes, as she shifted her weight back and forth, and putting herself into a swinging motion. She grunted mightily as she fell short of me on her first two attempts.
On the third pass she garnered enough energy in her swing that she slammed into me, and knocking most of the breath out of her lungs in the process. Still, she had enough wits and strength to wrap her legs around my waist before she'd rebound away.
She inhaled deeply. I felt her legs tighten about me as she pulled us closer to each other, and then she said, "Come here, whore!"
Gloria pulled us so close that my cock was crushed between us. Her breath came warm and sweet as she panted into my mouth during a most splendid kiss. Gripping my waist even tighter between her thighs, she shifted her hips up and down, and playfully slid my cock across our stomachs. She giggled around my tongue each time she made my cock slide up and tap one of her breasts.
"Naughty, playful cock," she said, laughingly. "I think my whore needs to put it deep into his whore's dripping cunt."
"I think my whore needs to work a little bit for it, just as I worked getting here."
Loosening her grip but still maintaining contact to me with her calves and feet, Gloria's arms strained against the binding chains as she swung herself a bit away from me. Her move put my cock between her smooth thighs and pointed directly at her pussy. She tightened her grip on my waist again, pulling herself closer to me. My cock was nearly inside her when I flexed its muscles, making it miss her intended mark by shooting high and across her pubis.
I heard her murmur a disappointed, "Fuck," and then some others, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," as she tried lining me up for another run.
Sweat was running down her arms and face from obvious physical strain. Beads grew large on her chest until letting go, they left clear trails crisscrossing her breasts as they made their way ever downward to her groin and around toward her back.
She hadn't noticed my purposeful twitch from before. I flexed again as she lunged forward. This time my cock went low, sliding lewdly along the cleft of her ass.
I joked, "Now you want it in your ass? I thought it was supposed to go into your dripping cunt."
"Help me," she said, her voice thick with exhaustion and frustration.
I chided her while obviously flexing my cock, "Whore needs to work. Work for it whore."
Letting out an exasperated laugh, she commanded, "Stop doing that and help me. Please!"
Smiling at her, I held myself firm and steady. She pulled herself to me again, and this time very hard. My cock easily slid in, stabbing her deeply.
"Oh, Jesus!" she screamed, as my cock hit bottom.
"Alright whore, fuck my cock like a good whore," and then I said a bit louder, "De Vries, if you would."
De Vries was an expert with the strap, and could swat a fly off a flabby matron's ass without touching her skin. Each time my cock slammed into her deep, De Vries slapped her buttocks squarely and hard with the strap while missing me in the process. Overwhelming euphoria bloomed across her flush face as ever increasing intensities of both pleasure and pain simultaneously boiled and mingled within her.
Continually spurred on by the Dom's 'whip,' my lovely steed repeatedly slammed into me with an ever increasing tempo. Her loud, protracted wails were only matched by the loud sound of the strap and the more muted sounds of my heavy balls slapping against her muscular ass. When I added my own pelvic thrust to hers, I saw her fingers shoot out straight, just like Raven's had, as the first of many orgasmic waves slammed into her. One quickly followed another, ramping up higher and higher in intensity, as she screamed loudly and abruptly each time I thrusted deep and with each blow of the strap. I could feel her ejaculate and arousal flow across my cock as a constant stream, and then hear it dripping onto the floor below us. It is always a most satisfying sound.
As I felt her strength ebb, I signaled De Vries to stop. Wrapping her in my arms, I pulled her tight against me, and kissed her deeply.
Now, secured in my arms, her strength returned, and using her thigh muscles and calves, she began bouncing herself along my cock. Waves anew, long forceful waves ebbed and flowed through her. Between deafening screams, she would grunt loudly, straining to push her body into even higher levels of power and tempo, and using the ebb and flow of the smaller climaxes to build into one final...
"Jesus, I am your fucking whore! Jesus, fuck your whore!" she said over and over as her body violently shuddered against mine.
"Jesus has nothing to do with it, and you're not my whore." Kissing her sweetly on the mouth to take some of the sting out of my words, I then said to De Vries, "Remove the cuffs from Domina, and let the other one go. Then leave us for a while."
I laid Gloria down on her stola, while making a pillow for her head out of my toga. She was still shivering from her last orgasm, just like an old, mistuned jalopy that continued to sputter even after the ignition was turned off. Finding a towel, I sat down beside her and wiped some of the sweat from her, and causing more shivers to ripple through her body. I noticed the remnants of her ejaculate and arousal continued to drip from her pussy, forming a growing stain on her stola.
"This time you get the wet spot."
"Funny. Tiberius' revenge," she said, dreamily. Staring up at me with a sleepy-eyed gaze, she languidly traced at finger around her pussy, and felt the extent of her wetness. Then briefly dipping her fingers deep into her canal, she asked, "You didn't come, did you? Why not?"
"You were too quick for me, my love."
"My love. I like that."
"Better than, 'My whore,' don't you think?"
"Infinitely better, but I wan...I need you to come for me."
She started to shift around in order to put me in her mouth, but I gently pushed her back down. "Time for that later. Now, I want you to fuck me like you did that night."
A sly smile bloomed across her lips, before she asked, "What night?"
"You know."
Mimicking the words she said to me so long ago, but in a more worldly tone, "Now that I have you all to myself," she placed her hands behind her knees, and pulled them up and as wide as she could to her chest, and then beckoned me to enter her with that minxy half-smile I loved to see on her. She was indeed, my Siren; and I, her Ulysses.
It was sweeter the second time with her; so much sweeter, by far. On that night when she proclaimed her love for me, she was no more than a naive little girl, inexperienced and innocent in all classes of night school, while trying so very hard to be the woman she thought more mature and seductive. Now, more than a year later, the tables had turned. She had become that worldly seductress, mature and learned in all the sophisticated sexual arts, but who, more than anything else, wanted to be treated as the naive, little girl again.
As I slid my cock deep into her pussy, I saw the love and lust in her eyes. She wanted to relive that time...that night...that moment, as I did.
And, Heaven help us, Asmodeus obliged.
Just like the first time, she stared up into my eyes as I pumped her long and slow, while she played with her tits, teasing them to excite me with a bit of sexual brashness. At times, when the feelings began to well up inside of her, she would bite her lower lip, possibly to stifle a soft moan. And each time she did, I would kiss those puckish lips, and make them smile.
I felt Gloria playing with the hair at the back of my head as she neared climax. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed, shiny with sweat, and she was panting heavily between ever protracted moans.
I've come to know them well, all unmistakable signs that she was close. So, I increased the force of my pumping, making her eyes go wide in surprise and pleasure.
She was mouthing something to me, but I couldn't hear. I felt that tingle at the base of my skull. The one I always felt after taking the elixir. I knew, then, that Asmodeus was with us.
God, she was beautiful. There was a time when I arrogantly and ignorantly called her a 'plain Jane,' and how wrong I was. Both Gloria and Karen were beyond beauty, and have become the twin pillars of womanhood, the embodiment of love and lust to me. If I could marry them both, I would. If I needed to put myself in harm's way to save them, I would not hesitate.
She took a deep breath and held it, and arched her back in the extreme as the first magnificent wave crashed into her. At the same moment, I felt her canal walls tighten around my cock, triggering my own climax...
My hearing was back.
Gloria's body was convulsing in ecstasy, but she kept her head still and her eyes trained on mine.
"I love you," she said, emphatically, over and over, until she began to weep as her convulsions stopped.
I sat back against a wall and pulled Gloria closer to me, cradling her to my chest. She shivered against the coolness of the grotto, so I wrapped her more completely with her stola.
"I don't like it when you two fight. And I don't like it that you punish yourself because of your love for me."
"I know, but you still love me through it all."
"Yes, and I always will."
Gloria said it again, softly and with a hint of sadness, "I love you," and then added, "And I love Karen. More than you or she can ever know. I love her because she's my closest confidant and best friend. I don't think I could ever find a sweeter person to...well really, devote my life too. But most of all, I love her because she loves you more than you can ever know."
Exhausted, she fell asleep in my arms. Before long, I could hear her breathing coming low and even. She slept just like a child nestled in the warm comfort and security of their father's protective embrace. Closing my eyes to join her, I felt at peace at last. | null | [] | {
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Initiation “Brian, put some clothes on, damn it!” The shriek of an old, irate woman cut through the house like a knife.
“What?” The deep voice reverberated off the walls almost as clearly.
“Your niece is here; she does not need to see you parading around in all your heathen debauchery.” Yesenia shook her head at her grandmother, Grams still thought she was a child.
“Oh, cut it out, mom. That you still believe in the invisible sky dude amazes me after you’ve been living with Dad for sixty years.” She stifled a giggle as her Uncle Brian dug at Gram’s Catholic faith. Brian never had been very pious. Not that she was either, but with a name like hers it was hard not to be a little cynical. Virgin my sexy ass. She’d lost that card several years ago, not that anyone except her mom knew. Mom made sure she was on adequate birth control, was regularly tested, and took precautions. A practical woman.
“God willing, you will pay for your sins. My son or not, I expect you to obey and respect the Lord in this house!”
“Good thing I don’t live here anymore then.” Brian could be heard opening the fridge as he needled his mother.
“Brian, so help me!” There was a crash and the sound of something getting smacked hard. Yesenia figured it was a thick wooden spoon and probably Brian from the bellowed “Ow” that followed.
A snicker did escape her lips as Brian, now wearing a towel that was a touch too small for him, slunk out of her grandmother’s kitchen. Yesenia sat in the big recliner pretending to read, her feet over the arm, and curled up, enjoying the whole affair. She ignored her granddad who sat snoozing on the couch, only noticing if he happened to snore louder than usual.
This was typical, and after having watched holiday after holiday around the family, she knew it was going to always end the same way, with Brian making Gram mad, and eventually him getting pelted with a spoon, pot, or whatever else she had handy. He seemed to enjoy getting under his mother’s skin.
He had, however, managed to carry off an entire six pack of beer with him in the escape from his mother’s wrath. He parked himself in the other recliner, adjusting his covering just enough not to be lewd around his twenty-yearld niece. “Hey small-fry, how’s the book?” He asked while cracking open the first beer. “It’s good, Uncle Brian.”
“Are you still up for tonight?” He chugged half the beer he’d just opened.
“Sure, I guess. It’s a romance.”
He wrinkled his nose at the book. “Still worried?” Brian gave her one of those ‘concerned uncle’ looks.
“You know I hate sitting out as the oddball.”
“I know. It’s frustrating. Don’t worry. One of these days you’ll find your place.”
“Mom and dad driving?” She flipped another page absently.
“Yeah, I think so.” He took another sip of the beer and crushed the now empty can against his head.
“Granddad?” She looked over at the snoring form.
Brian poked his dad’s foot with a toe. “Eh, we’ll see.” His father just rolled over slightly and let out a thunderous snore.
Yesenia settled back in with her book, ignoring the occasional clatter of angry grandmother in the kitchen. Her parents were off getting groceries and running errands, she had plenty of time.
Brian popped open a second beer and pretended to ignore his mother’s quiet ranting.
“Are you ready dear?” Her mother called from the stairwell.
“Yeah, but I feel silly.” Yesenia replied from the bathroom.
“You say that every year.” Her mother had that school teacher tone down pat, she didn’t even turn it off at home anymore.
“That’s because I feel silly every year.” Then again, Yesenia could still do whiny teen when the need arose.
“Oh, come on, this will be fun.”
“Maybe for you. I always end up in the corner waiting it out, remember?”
“Maybe this time it won’t be.” “Mom, ever think it could skip a generation?”
“Yeah, it could, but you’ve still got time left.”
Same conversation every time. Not that she objected to the party, it was nice enough. She just wished she wasn’t the only adult there who was out of place. A few times she ended up hanging out with some of the teens, but the last couple years she’d avoid them too because they started to mock her for not being part of the adult party. It was getting tiresome. Though it did help that fewer and fewer wanted to come unless they could party too.
Then there were a few of the guys who tried to pay attention to her, but she mostly ducked them. She knew what they wanted. She’d grown into a pretty stunning figure. Her Spanish heritage and dark locks were the envy of a lot of classmates growing up. Ending up with a perky but still sizable chest and a killer set of hips had made her both envied and hated, particularly since she was a bit of a bookworm and not really popular.
Coming down in her slip of a dress, she just felt foolish, even though the old-style dress looked great on her, she knew that from the twenty minutes she’d wasted primping herself in the mirror. The simple white dress flowed easily. It had a long slit up one side and a single strap over her left shoulder, and was belted with a wide gold belt. She only wore plain sandals on her feet.
“You look lovely, honey.” According to her mother, a paper bag would probably look good on her. She was also dressed in the same style dress, but hers was a soft blue. Her father and uncle were in togas. A tradition. Her father also wore the same soft blue as her mother, but Brian wore a bright red, which stood out. His great bushy salt and pepper beard and portly shape reminded her of the old Greek god Dionysus from her high school book on mythology. She wouldn’t put it past Uncle Brian to try to drink the god of wine under the table. Her granddad had found his peach colored toga and was now awake enough to go too.
They piled into her mother’s SUV. Yesenia slid into the back row, behind Brian whose long legs seemed to be everywhere. Starting up the car they pulled out of the driveway, the sun just starting to set over the hills to the west.
It wasn’t a long drive, but Yesenia picked at the hem of her dress a bit. She would probably be the only adult wearing white. They lived close to the campground that the party happened at every year. One of the rangers always made sure the area stayed clear for them. The party was already underway as they pulled into the gravel drive. Though the sun was still up, a fire was going, and she could hear people carousing and joking. A pretty big spread of food was on the picnic tables.
Brian got out the stuff from the trunk behind her seat. Several old beat up camp chairs and a lounger; plus, a couple coolers. Yesenia quickly claimed the lounger and a can of diet mountain dew for herself. She still wasn’t allowed to drink in the U.S. though she got to when the went to visit the cousins in Spain. She kicked at a small rock, wishing she’d remembered her book and a flashlight. They weren’t allowed to bring cell phones tonight. She just opted to watch people. She could see Brian flitting in and out of the crowd, his giant frame towering over almost everyone. He was always the life of the party. Her parents were over talking to an old friend, Isaac, he wore a silver toga.
The place was a riot of colors now, the togas came in dozens of different colors. She sighed, hers was the only white one. She hated it. Why did she have to be different? Of course, from another perspective, she was the normal one and they were the ones who were different. But it was all her family, well except Gram, and most of the close friends of the family. How was she going to ever have a relationship with some boy where she had to keep this secret and yet, how could she be with a guy in this world if she wasn’t really part of it either.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, startling her. “You doing okay, tot?” The wheezy old voice of her granddad asked. She looked up at him, in his pale peach toga. He settled into a chair next to her lounger and handed her a slice of watermelon which she happily took from him. “I know it’s hard sitting here. Your Gram, well, she did it too you know.”
“She did? I thought she was just, well, not one.”
“No, her parents were both. It skipped her. Rare, but it does happen. She’s a great woman, your Gram, but she’s never really gotten over that feeling of disappointment from her parents. I just want you to know, that no matter what, you’re always my pride and joy. You got that, tot? I don’t want you living your life like you missed out on something, because you’re every bit as special whether you are, or not. You’re special as my granddaughter, and I’ll always be proud of you.”
Yesenia gently rubbed her face on his wrinkled old hand, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Thank you, granddad, I love you.”
“I love you too, tot. Now behave, it’s time.” He stepped away, his peach toga vanishing into the press.
She normally liked to watch this part, it was special, but she felt her own guts cramp. Damn it, she didn’t think it was her time of the month yet. She dashed off to the car and found her purse. Reaching around inside she grabbed a tampon and headed for the small restroom. Thankfully, part of why they used this place was that it was cleaner than most.
The knot in her gut twisted again, and she hurried into the small bathroom. She snapped the lock and yanked her dress up over her hips, trying to get to her panties. Thankfully the dress was pretty easy access, something she’d contemplated for other reasons on a few occasions. When she started to pull down on her panties though she was greeted by a very different surprise. She found herself sporting four small bumps right above her shaved muff. The tampon was quickly forgotten “Oh my god, it’s happening.” She whispered to the empty air. She’d spent so many years waiting, and she’d all but given up hope. Instead here she was mistaking the biggest moment of her life for an early period. She dropped her dress down and dashed back out the door.
Outside, the party was in full swing, most of the participants had made the shift already. But her mother was hanging out by the picnic tables talking to a friend of hers, still in her pale blue dress. Yesenia came up and tugged on her mother’s arm. “Mom!”
“Yesenia, quit pulling, I’m talking to Carol. It’s very rude to interrupt.” Her mother snapped without even to turn to look at her daughter.
“But, mom!” She whined; her hands clenched over her stomach.
Carol, the tall older lady she was with, who was resplendent in her purple dress and silver belt, stopped her mother with a gentle wave, “Alita, I think you should listen to your daughter.”
The soft rebuke got Alita’s attention fast. She looked over at her daughter who was now holding her stomach like it was on fire. “Oh my god, is it really happening? Here? Tonight?”
“Um, yeah, I think so.” She grimaced.
The two older women held her as she felt herself warm to the glow of the moon as it rose for the first time. “Alright dear,” Carol said softly “Let it come. It’ll be okay. Don’t fight it. You’ll know when to stop. Now, let’s breathe, together”
Yesenia slowed her breathing to match that of her mother and Carol. “One, two, breathe in, three four, breathe out.” Over and over she let the shiver run through her body. She could feel bits of herself shifting. She tried to let it happen, sometimes she felt herself clenching again, but the gentle squeeze from the ladies reassured her. She could hear pops as her ankles shifted under her. Her feet stretching and her toes fusing. She only had enough presence of mind to kick off her sandals before they were destroyed. Her hips flared even wider, shifting her balance. She looked down at her new hooves, watching as her mother’s larger fluffy feet expanded next to Carol’s uncurling black talons.
The pain was far less now, she could feel it more as a warmth that ran through her. “That’s good child, let it come. You’re doing well.” Carol’s voice was practiced, calm. Her mother just held her hand, a hand whose nails were slowly growing dark and thick, as her fingers merged into two rather than four. She could still flex them, and she did, even watching her mother’s hand sprouted fur, while Carol’s fingers darkened with the early signs of her plumage.
Pressure built and she felt her stomach give way as the large udder burst forth, skewing the dress wildly to the side and taking her panties off with it. She could see the outline of the long teats under the stretched fabric of her dress. Behind her widened hips were padded with a bit more oomph as her posterior took on very generous proportions, capped with a slowly sprouting tail that snaked under her dress and batted its fuzzy tip about her thickened thighs. Her breasts, apparently jealous, joined her udder. She ballooned in size rapidly going from perking to what she might jokingly call melons. They popped the top right off her dress in the process. Her mother giggled a bit at the giant chest her daughter now sported. Though she was quickly silenced by the four additional breasts sprouting from her chest under the blue fabric. Carol by comparison actually seemed to get smaller chested, as her breasts became small and high. She grinned at the other two “free boob job in my old age!” That made them all laugh.
Yesenia felt her ears perk and shift, and a sudden splitting pain that briefly pierced each temple. She was pretty sure she had horns now. Probably big ones from the weight. Her mother similarly had her ears spring up into two giant rabbit ears. Carol was struggling with her face a bit as a beak slowly pushed out, quickly followed by the rest of her plumage. Yesenia’s snout was still broadening on her face as her mother’s soft gray and white coat grew in. Moments later a soft brown fur took over her own body.
She sat down heavily onto the bench to look at herself. Her mother dashed to her purse and grabbed a compact. With the small mirror handy Yesenia could get her first full view of herself. She was right about the horns being sizable, but they were still small enough to be cute, sitting above her brown eyes that were still her own. Her face had changed a bit, pushed out in a short muzzle, but she still felt she could see herself in the reflection. The udder was awkward and she couldn’t seem to control her tail. Worse was that she was having a hard time balancing herself on two hooves. One thing she did notice is that she was still short. Her five-foot frame had grown a little, but she was still shorter than her mother or Carol. She tried not to think about the feeling between her legs, particularly since her bovine body seemed to scream ‘breed me’. She suspected she had quite a bit more to explore when she had some private time.
Her mother hugged her, distracting her from the naughtier of her thoughts. “Oh, I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks mom.” She replied, genuinely feeling happy.
Carol smiled, well, she seemed to. It was always hard to tell with the were-raven. “Welcome to the family child. Shall we introduce you? Hmm?”
“We would be honored,” Alita intoned, and it suddenly occurred to Yesenia that she was going to be welcomed by the head of the clan as her patron, not just her family. Carol stopped away, giving all three of them a moment to remove their now ill-fitting dresses. There was no need of human modesty here.
It was hard to carry a staff for a raven, but she always managed to do so with great dignity. She went forward to the center of the firelight. Most of the others were there, and though the foxes and wolves dominated the circle many other faces could be seen by firelight. In the shadows of the fire the Raven Woman stood a mysterious shadow, powerful like a portent from the gods. The sharp crack of the staff upon a large flat rock silenced the noise about the fire almost instantly, even rousing the great bear to look up. A buxom squirrel woman popped up under his chin.
“Tonight, my clan, we welcome another to our gathering. We have been blessed by the moon this night, and welcome our dearly awaited member Yesenia to her place in the dance.”
Slowly, tail swishing, the recently christened were-cow took her place in front of the stoic raven woman.
“Yesenia, we welcome you, blessed by the moon, and gifted with our legacy. Dance with us now, and celebrate your life with us all.”
Cheers broke out, as wolves howled, foxes, yipped, and the giant bear she knew as Uncle Brian, let out a bellowing roar. She stood in awe of being finally part of her family in a way that she’d only dreamed of.
“I told you,” a soft, wheezing voice said, “no matter what. I am always proud of you.”
She reached around the barrel chest of the old ram. “Thank you, Granddad!” | null | [] | {
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It was that time of year again. The company holiday celebration. I didn't really want to go. I would have skipped it altogether if not for Melanie.
Melanie was the new girl in the purchasing department where we both worked and she had all but begged me to take her to the party. She hadn't been with the company very long and she was new in town so she didn't know very many people. Even so, I was surprised when she said she couldn't find anyone else to take her to the company bash. I had a hard time believing her; and with good reason.
Melanie was more than just a cute girl. She was way beyond that. Yes, she was beautiful, but she had a sensual air about her that made it difficult not to notice her every move. I had admired her since her very first day, and who wouldn't? She was about five two and had shoulder length blond hair and green eyes. She often wore tight sweaters and slacks that showed off her curves, or suits with short skirts that really emphasized her beautiful legs. I'm a sucker for a woman in a business suit and Melanie got my motor running every time she walked by.
But I had been too shy to ask her out. With her looks I was pretty sure she could have anyone she wanted. I didn't want to face the rejection. So I was blown away when she asked me to escort her. Fortunately I recovered from the shock before she noticed me acting like a star struck schoolboy and accepted.
I had always disliked going to these company events. They were incredibly dull. And some people always drank too much and started behaving in ways that made me embarrassed for them. Especially the upper level managers and executives. It kind of dashed the image of a great leader when you saw your boss all liquored up and attempting dance moves he couldn't do even if he were sober.
By the afternoon of the party I was so nervous that I changed clothes three times before deciding what to wear. I really wanted to make a good impression. Finally settling on a dark gray suit, white shirt, and a maroon tie, I ended up being ready with an hour left to kill. Sitting and watching TV only made me more fidgety so I got in the car and drove around Melanie's neighborhood until it was time to pick her up.
On my way from my car to her apartment I formulated a plan for what I was going to say when Melanie answered the door. I have this fear of opening my mouth and sounding like a complete dork. I found myself meandering up the sidewalk as I tried out different lines in my head, hoping that somehow they would come out sounding natural and unrehearsed.
My anxiety peaked when I reached the apartment door. I paused, took a deep breath, and told myself that once I got through the next few minutes the rest of the night would be easy. When the door opened the vision standing in the doorway left me stunned.
Melanie looked good in everyday office attire. She was an absolute knockout in evening wear. She was wearing a black dress that clung to her body and yet shimmered when she moved. The gown featured a plunging neckline and a slit way up the side. Around her neck was a gold chain with a tassel pendant that hung provocatively between her breasts. Diamond earrings finished off the gorgeous sight standing before me.
She was so entrancing I instantly forgot all that I had planned to say. All I managed to gasp was an awed, "Wow."
Terror rippled through my body and my throat went dry. Then Melanie smiled and I realized that I'd said the perfect thing. "Thanks Brad," she replied with a coy twist of her head, "I'll take that as a compliment. You're looking pretty sharp yourself! You should dress up more often."
On the way to the party Melanie and I chatted in the car, mostly about work. I'd been sure she was way out of my league and had been reluctant to engage her in conversation much at the office, fearing the embarrassment of being shot down on the spot. As it turned out, she was funny and engaging and easy to talk to. I kicked myself for having been so timid. I steered the conversation away from work to find out more about this woman.
"So how do you like Portland so far?" I asked Melanie.
"Rains a lot here," she answered.
"Oh, you just got here during the rainy season."
"Oh yeah, when is that?"
"October through June."
"That's nine months!"
"Yeah, but it's really nice here the rest of the time."
Melanie chuckled, "Wonderful. At least I have something to look forward to."
"Besides," I pointed out as we crossed the river on the Marquam Bridge, "It's not raining today. It's so clear that you can see two mountains. "
Melanie glanced through the windshield and then out her passenger window at the river.
"Is this the Columbia?"
I started to laugh and then caught myself and faked a cough instead. I pounded my chest for effect. "This is the Willamette. The Columbia is bigger and to the north, at the border with Washington."
Melanie looked out the windshield again. "Two mountains? I only see one."
"That's Mount Hood you're seeing ahead of us. Look out here," I said pointing, "To the left. That's Mount Saint Helens."
"The one that blew up? Cool. I didn't realize it was so close. Can we go there sometime?"
We? My eyes blinked as I tried to confirm she had really said that word. I tongued my lips once and swallowed before shifting my gaze right. "Sure. I'd love to. How about spring when it's a little warmer?"
Melanie's eyes shifted from the mountain to me. A wide smile graced her face. "That would be great."
We reached the east side of the river, making the sweeping left turn as we came down off the bridge.
"Have you seen much of anything else in the city?" I asked.
"Not really. It's much bigger than Ferndale. I get lost here sometimes. And it's not much fun exploring new places without someone to show me around."
My heart skipped a beat as I realized for the second time in as many minutes that Melanie might be more interested in seeing me than for just the company party. "Ferndale," I began, trying to remain calm, "That's in California?"
"Yes."
"Where is it exactly?"
"A few hundred miles north of San Francisco. I'm not surprised if you've never heard of it. There's maybe a couple thousand people there at most. It's just a little village, really. Everyone knows everyone else. Our big claim to fame is that part of the movie 'The Majestic' was filmed there."
"Oh yeah, I remember that movie. Didn't do too great at the box office but I rented the video. Jim Carrey, right?"
"That's the one. It really wasn't a bad movie," said Melanie.
"No," I agreed. "I thought it was OK."
I paused, expecting some reply, but none came.
"So," I started, "this is a big change from where you grew up?"
Melanie nodded. "Yeah."
"What brought you to here?" I asked, "Just the job, or was there something else?"
"The job was part of it," Melanie answered, "but mostly I felt like I needed to get a fresh start. It really didn't matter much where I went as long as it was different from home."
"You needed new surroundings to help you break away from old memories?"
"Yeah, kinda like that. There's some things I wanted to change about myself and some people I didn't want to be around anymore. Nothing ever changes in Ferndale."
"Is that working out?"
"I think so."
"How so?" I prompted.
Melanie shrugged. "I was pretty passive about everything before, not taking charge of things in my own life and stuff. I've gotten a lot better about that since coming here."
I opened my mouth to reply, but Melanie continued, "I like not having to answer to anyone else. It is kinda lonely though. One of the things I needed to get away from was my former boyfriend, but I miss having a man in my life sometimes."
"What happened with the boyfriend?" I wondered aloud.
Melanie shook her head - more like a tremble, really. "I'm not real comfortable in discussing that with just anyone right now, if you don't mind."
"Uh, yeah," I muttered, striving for damage control. "I understand."
I was curious about what might have happened to her back in Ferndale, but decided this was no time to pry. I reminded myself that the reason we'd gotten together tonight was for the company party, so I changed the subject.
"A few years ago, we had our holiday party at the Pittock Mansion. It's a big old historical house up in the hills overlooking the city. Originally built by the publisher of the Oregonian newspaper."
"Oh wow, it's really a mansion? I'll bet that was neat."
"Yeah," I said. "It's a beautiful place, but a little hard to get to. They moved the party to hotels in the city as our company grew and we needed more space. This place we're going to is still nice, but it doesn't have that historical charm."
Melanie's gaze returned to the prominent mountain visible above Portland's skyline.
"Could Mount Hood ever explode?" she asked. "You know, like St. Helen's."
"Not likely, it's been dormant for a very long time."
"Dormant?" Melanie tilted her head as continued to peering through the windshield at the snow capped peak. "Like asleep?"
"Something like that, I suppose."
"So it could wake up at any moment, right?"
"Technically, I guess that's right."
The most demure of smiles graced Melanie's face. "Yeah, I could see how it might."
She didn't say another word, just kept glancing at the volcano and smiling until I pulled into the hotel parking lot and found a spot.
"Thanks for bringing me Brad," said Melanie as I extended my hand to help her out of the car, "I've been looking forward to this night since you said you'd take me."
"Me too. Let's go have a good time."
My throat flexed as my words reached my ears. I was sure they sounded as stiff as I felt, but Melanie didn't seem to notice. We walked into the hotel and followed signs to the ballroom. I helped my companion off with her coat, shed my own, and handed them to the coat check attendant.
As we entered the ballroom I felt the sense of dismay intensify within me. The decorations were the same as the last few years, the same people were checking guests in as they arrived, even the centerpieces on the tables were identical to last year. This was going to be an exact repeat of all the other mind-numbing company parties I'd been to. As I silently escorted Melanie to our table I tried to remind myself that being there with her would make it bearable. That helped just a little.
Melanie knew most of the people at our table and I introduced her to the rest. We all exchanged the kind of polite, pseudo-friendly greetings that occur between people who know they will see each other again only rarely, if at all.
I glanced at Melanie, hoping that my distaste with the whole event wasn't rubbing off on her. My concern vanished as our eyes met and she smiled. I found myself smiling back before I even realized it.
Melanie edged her head slightly to one side. "Hey Brad, how about getting me a drink?"
"Sure," I replied, glancing towards the bar, "What will it be?"
Melanie wrinkled her nose and then said, "Surprise me," giving me a wink.
"You got it," I replied with a grin. "Be right back."
The smile left my face as I turned away from Melanie and headed towards the bar. I had no idea what she liked. I guess I had my head down as I was pondering the choices because I nearly collided with my boss.
"Brad my boy!" exclaimed the old man, clapping me on the back. I winced. Not the guy I really wanted to talk to right now.
"Been meaning to speak to you about your idea of renegotiating prices with some of our vendors," he continued. In spite of the early hour, the scent of alcohol was heavy in his breath.
I tried to be polite while he rambled on. I wasn't really listening, but it didn't matter, I doubted that he'd remember this conversation by Monday anyway.
I could see Melanie from across the room and glanced her way as often as I dared. She seemed to have become involved in a conversation with the wife of one of the sales reps. I hoped Melanie was interested enough in her conversation that she wasn't wondering where the hell I was with her drink.
My boss spied another employee passing by and started talking to her. I took the opportunity to escape and resumed my journey to the bar.
"Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?" asked the bartender.
"Don't know exactly," I answered, scratching my ear.
"It's a full bar, I can make just about anything you want."
"Yeah," I said, "but my date asked me to surprise her and I have no clue about what she likes."
"How 'bout a daiquiri?"
"You think that's a safe choice?"
"You bet," he replied. "Lots of ladies order those."
"Hmm," I mused aloud, drumming my fingers on the bar. "OK, why not? Fix her a strawberry daiquiri and I'll take a lemon drop martini."
When I finally returned, Melanie was standing alone next to the table. She smiled widely as I approached with the drinks.
"Well what did you get? Is that a lemon drop? It is! I love these things!" She took the martini from my hand.
I raised the daiquiri in a toast. "To a festive evening and good company."
Melanie kinked her head as she touched her glass to mine. "To great company," she said quietly.
"Yes, I'm enjoying your company a lot, Melanie. Are you having a good time so far?"
"Oh yes. I got to meet some new people already, so that's good for me."
"Oh yeah, there was Louise and her husband Jim, and Francine Adams was at our table," I noted. "Nice people."
"Hmmm Louise and Jim are nice, but that Francine is quite a character!"
I dropped my brow. "I don't know her that well. I just see her at company functions like this. I didn't see her husband Peter here tonight. Guess he's traveling. His job in sales keeps him on the road a lot."
"Well you wouldn't believe what Francine told me!" Melanie said. She glanced around before continuing, and lowered her voice. "I think she's been drinking for a while tonight, maybe this afternoon too. But guess what she does when her husband is out of town?"
"What?"
"Wild stuff," replied Melanie, she put her hand on my arm, "With men."
"Oh yeah?" I said, "There's been rumors about Peter having affairs that I've been hearing for months, but I didn't know about Francine."
Melanie's eyes sparkled and her mouth broke into a sly grin. "Well," she began, "apparently Francine isn't all that happy with Peter and she suspects that he's been having affairs. I guess she's heard the rumors too. Anyway, she decided that she shouldn't just be a hermit all the time when he's away. So she started going out to some bars alone and the men just flocked to her."
"She certainly has the looks," I noted.
Melanie shot me a cut-eyed glance that told me she didn't appreciate my observation. Whether it was jealousy or annoyance with my male attitude, I couldn't tell.
"So," Melanie continued, "I guess she was in a bar one night, chatting with some guys, when a young black man approached her and asked her to dance. Francine took one look at him and said yes. She said he was gorgeous.
"While they were dancing, this guy maneuvered them to a dark corner and had his hands all over Francine and she let him touch her ass and her breasts. At one point he had his knee between Francine's legs and she was actually humping him right there on the dance floor! She was getting hot and when she reached to touch him through his pants she knew this was a guy she was going to take home with her."
I finished my drink with one gulp. "Wow! And?"
"That's the part that blew me away," said Melanie, "Apparently Francine stood right there on the dance floor and asked this guy if she could take him home and fuck his brains out!"
"Really?"
"Sorry for being so crude, but that's what she said."
"It's OK," I said, seeing the concern on her face. "What happened next?"
"Let's find somewhere a little more private. I don't want anyone to overhear."
"Come with me." I put my arm around Melanie's waist and guided her towards a set of double doors leading to a terrace.
We could see our breath outside, but there was no one out there. I faced the doors so I could see if anyone was coming. Melanie shivered a little and moved closer to me.
"Tell me more," I said.
"She takes this guy out to the parking lot. When she gets to her car, she unzips him and pulls out his cock. She said it was huge. Francine gave him a few sucks and then tucked him back in his pants and told him to follow her home in his car. Can you imagine?"
"Sounds like she really knew what she wanted."
"Oh, yeah. I think you could say that," said Melanie. She slipped her hand inside my jacket and put it on my chest. "You ever done anything like that in a public place, Brad?"
"Uh, no."
"According to Francine, when she let the man into her house she didn't even wait to get to the bedroom. She started stripping him halfway up the stairs and took that big black cock in her mouth, standing a couple steps below him."
Melanie moved close to me. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating. She stood with her leg touching mine. As she leaned into me her right hand moved to her left breast. I watched as she cupped her breast and briefly pinched herself through her dress. When my gaze returned to her face Melanie was smiling at me.
"Francine sucked and pumped him until he yelled and came in her mouth. She swallowed what she could and the rest dribbled down her chin." Melanie paused licked her lips. "So, you ever done anything like that in a private place?"
Unable to speak, I shook my head.
She moved closer and positioned herself so that my knee was between her legs. I couldn't believe it when she started grinding into me! I looked through the terrace doors. There were people mingling and walking past, but no one was headed our way. It was getting warm under my suit and my hardening cock was uncomfortably cramped.
I looked back to Melanie. She had her eyes closed. Her hand reached down and stroked my cock through my pants. Her fingers slid up and down the length of my very stiff member. "Francine said it was one of the most exciting and erotic experiences of her entire life."
I didn't know what to say, but I sure knew what I wanted to do! The trouble was, we were in the midst of the company party! I leaned down and brushed my lips against hers. She leaned into my overture. Her lips parted and I gave her a slow passionate kiss. Our tongues entwined as they explored each other's mouths. I put my arms around Melanie and embraced her as we continued to kiss. The tip of her nose was cold where it touched my face.
Our bodies were pressed together and Melanie put her arms around my back. I could feel the heat of her body contrasting with the cold of the season.
I moved my hand and cupped Melanie's ass. She responded with a moan while still probing my mouth with her hot tongue. Then she reached behind her, grabbed my other hand and guided it under her dress.
Her panties were soaked. They were wet and slippery. For a moment I just stood with my hand there in disbelief, feeling her heat and wetness. Then I began rubbing her through the material, parting her pussy lips as I slid two fingers up and down. Melanie took a small step to the side, parting her legs slightly more. I used my whole hand to massage her. Then Melanie leaned forward to whisper in my ear.
"Put your fingers inside me."
Melanie, her eyes still closed, moaned quietly and moved against my palm. I slipped my fingers inside her panties and slowly slid in and out of her eager pussy, or rather; she moved her pussy onto my fingers and rocked back and forth. With my other hand I could feel her butt tighten and relax as she moved against my hand.
From the party, I was pretty sure no one could tell what was going on, but if someone stepped onto the terrace it would be pretty obvious. I didn't want to have to stop.
"Melanie," I whispered in her ear, "We've got to get away from here before we get caught!"
"Brad, I don't care. Do me here!"
"Over there," I insisted. Guiding her away from the open doorway, I found a dark corner next to a low wall.
As soon as we stopped, Melanie began unzipping me, freeing my engorged cock from the confinement of my pants. It was exposed to the cold air but a moment before being covered by her warm hand. Her fingernails brushed the underside of my balls as she wrapped her fingers around me. She tugged on my swollen cock and then encircled it with her thumb and forefinger to stroke it downwards towards the base.
A few minutes of her expert massage and I could already feel the tension building inside of me. Melanie held my balls with one hand while she smeared the precum around my cock head with her other palm, then she began to slide it up and down my shaft, an act that made me even more sensitive. I shuddered, and not from the cold.
As if she knew what that shudder meant, Melanie knelt on the ground and took my cock in her mouth. She sucked on me and ran her tongue along the underside and kissed my balls. The smoothness of her tongue and the wetness of her mouth made my cock throb even more. She got most of me in her mouth and when she pulled back she swirled her tongue around the head of my cock, making slurping sounds as she descended once again. That sight of her doing that, and the sound, nearly sent me over the edge right there.
We could still hear the voices of our co-workers at the holiday party as they celebrated the season just a few yards away. The strolling carolers had arrived and strains of "Deck the Halls" were discernable over the general murmur of conversations. The party sounds were practically drowned out by the wet slurping noises coming from Melanie's mouth.
I was getting close to decking the back of Melanie's throat when she stood up, reached under her black dress, looked directly at me, and tugged her panties off. Then she hiked up the dress and hopped on the wall. She spread her legs and looked at me. "My turn, lover."
I stepped forward and brought my lips to Melanie's ear even as I slid a finger to her pussy and began to pet her. "They might be able to hear us in the ballroom. We'll have to be quiet."
"Oh shit!" whispered Melanie back, "I'm kind of a moaner. This is going to be hard. But you've got to eat me now or I'll scream."
I leaned down and put my mouth on Melanie's pussy, tasting her for the first time. She was soaking wet and I began lapping up her juices. I licked her sweet pussy all over, sliding up and down one side and then the other. The smoothness of her skin met the wetness of my tongue and I started to lick on her clit.
She pushed down on my head and whispered, "Lower."
I left her clit behind and instead probed my tongue as deeply as I could reach.
"Mmm", Melanie moaned, "That's perfect."
I licked faster, probing my tongue into Melanie. She shifted her weight slightly allowing me more complete access to her soft, wet pussy. She continued to make moaning sounds and I hoped she was quiet enough not to be heard across the terrace.
"Oh yes," she whispered, "Right there, but slower".
With one hand on each of her thighs I probed her with my tongue. Melanie shuddered. She grabbed my head with both her hands and pulled me closer. My face was now buried between her thighs. My tongue slowly traveled up one side of her crease and down the other. I was concentrating on providing Melanie with as much pleasure as I could possibly deliver. I moaned a little too, as the sensation of her wet pussy in my mouth was delightfully intoxicating.
My face became wet with her juices as I varied my movements, using the tip of my tongue to slide into her and then its entire width to massage her pussy lips. Melanie's responses to my enthusiastic tonguing made me even more excited and I slid two fingers into her as I continued lick and suck.
The delicate folds of Melanie's pussy yielded to my tongue. She spread her legs wider and I made my tongue go flat and stroked the width of her opening with slow, deliberate movements. She pressed against me and voiced a long low "Ooooooo."
"Now," she demanded in a whisper so soft it was little more than a breath. "Higher. You know where."
I didn't know exactly, but I had a good guess. Spreading my tongue wide, I drew it upward from her entry along her smooth valley in the slowest of licks, waiting for her response.
It came in a moment, or maybe she did. Her body jerked, a single spasm as if she had been shocked. "Yes," she moaned. "There. Right there. Lick it! Suck it! Oh, God, whatever you do don't stop."
Without the slightest intention of ceasing I started massaging her clit with my tongue, going in a circular motion.
My desire to slide into the pussy that I was seriously licking was escalating. Each of Melanie's moans and squirms elicited a throbbing response from my cock. I tried to ignore the messages that my erect member screamed into my brain as I continued to concentrate solely on bringing her over the edge.
"Oh, oh, oh," I heard Melanie panting. The grip on the back of my head tightened. My cock was now so stiff that I thought it would burst.
"Fuck me."
So focused was I on trying to ignore my own needs that my tongue continued its now rapid fluttering on Melanie's engorged clit while my fingers stroked the interior of her dripping passage. It took a couple of seconds to register before I froze. Withdrawing my face from her heaving pussy I looked up, seeking confirmation that my ears had heard Melanie's words and not the begging of my cock. The confirmation was immediate.
"Brad! Get up here and fuck me! Now!"
I stood up and looked at her. Never in a million years would I have dreamt that I would be standing before such a goddess, with my cock at full attention, as she gazed at me with such lust in her eyes. I rose until our faces were level and began rubbing the head of my cock on her entryway, mixing our juices on our flesh, preparing her for my entry. It wasn't necessary. Melanie was beyond ready. She reached down and guided my throbbing member into her waiting pussy. Sitting on the wall, she was just the right height.
"Oh fuck!" whispered Melanie, "That's so good. Go slow. I want to feel you."
She leaned back a little and I slid all the way into her. I put my hands on the top of the wall and used my arms to pull me forward and into the depths of Melanie's pussy. As I increased the pace of my strokes, my concern over anything else going on at the party evaporated.
Melanie leaned forward and put her arms around my neck, rocking back and forth to match my rhythm. She was breathing hard now, and a sheen of moisture covered her face, despite the chill in the December air.
By now, I was breathing harder too. Melanie's tightening grip around my neck told me that she was into this as much as I was. She buried her face in my shoulder to muffle the moans and sighs that were involuntarily coming from her now.
I was slamming my cock into her. I knew how much she wanted it and with each thrust I could feel both of our excitement levels heighten. As the length of my strokes increased the head of my cock fairly jumped as I withdrew and I parted her glistening pussy lips over and over again and re-entered her.
I plunged more forcefully. I was still aware that anyone coming out onto the terrace from the party would catch us red handed, but by now I didn't care. Melanie wriggled on the stone wall, placing both hands down on the stones and raising her hips to meet my thrusts. I felt the walls of her pussy contract around my cock, spasmming and squeezing. The heat rose within me and I knew I'd be coming in seconds. Melanie's body stiffened and she seemed to just explode as she thrust herself onto me. She grabbed me around the neck and screamed into my shoulder.
My jacket and my body kept the scream from being heard. Until Melanie lifted her head, gulped air, and let out another one.
The buzz of conversation in the banquet room suddenly stopped.
"Oh shit! Melanie! Run!"
I lifted her down from the wall and we took off running along the terrace in the opposite direction from the party. I grabbed Melanie's wrist with one hand and used the other to hold up my pants.
"My panties!" panted Melanie. "They're on the ground back by the wall!"
"Leave them. We can't go back that way now."
We kept moving down the terrace, trying doors to get back into the hotel with no luck. Everything was locked. Standing outside the last door at the corner of the building, with no where to go but back the way we came, we stood there panting and looked at each other.
I looked around the corner of the building. Nothing there but a row of garbage dumpsters and a tall fence.
"Now what?" asked Melanie.
"I guess wait until things calm down. Maybe we just go back and try to slip into the party without being noticed."
I started to move but Melanie's hand on my forearm stopped me in my tracks. Her eyes were wide as they locked onto mine. "Brad," she said began in a soft tone, one more suited for church than for an after-sex conversation, "That was wonderful. I have never felt things like that before. I didn't know it could be so good. After..." Her voice faltered, her gaze dropping to the ground.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I was being kinda bossy to you back there. That's not like me."
"But you weren't."
"I was!"
"No. I was as turned on as you were!"
"I know. You're a sweet guy but... well, there are some things I didn't tell you about my past."
"Like what?"
Melanie took my hands in hers. She focused her eyes on our hands, not looking directly at me.
"Well, my boyfriend back in Ferndale? I was madly in love with him and I thought he felt the same for me. He was my first, you know? He told me he loved me. I had this vision of getting married and having a wonderful life. When your heart feels like it's on fire with every breath, it's easy to not see things clearly. Looking back now, I can see he was really cleaver about not actually making commitments.
"It turned out that he was not honest with me about his feelings. He was a really controlling guy. He was playing on my emotions to get sex and I fell for it. And the sex was entirely about his pleasure. He didn't care much about what I felt as long as he got what he wanted.
"Something inside of me wanted to believe that there might still be a chance, that I was wrong about him and that he really did love me as much as I loved him. But I think I was just being shallow. He was handsome, but that was all. I guess I just couldn't see beyond that. I was afraid of what he would do if I stopped being so submissive to his advances," Melanie paused, looking up into my eyes. There were path of tears on her face, glistened silvery in the moonlight.
"But I was more afraid of losing that ideal life that I had seen for myself so clearly. It was so real to me, you know? I had my whole future planned out and it all hinged on being with this man. One man. I was so stupid!"
I pulled her to me and held her. "You weren't stupid," I insisted, running my fingers through her hair, "Just in love."
"Same damn thing! When I finally wised up, I figured the only safe way out was to leave. I knew that if I stayed I wouldn't be strong enough and would just keep going back, giving him another chance. That's how I ended up in Portland." Melanie paused to sniffle, then brought her head to my shoulder. "I didn't mean to take advantage of you tonight. If you hate me, I can't blame you."
I lifted her chin up so she was looking at me, wondering how someone so beautiful could be so insecure. "I don't hate you." I paused. I wasn't sure at all what I did feel. Things had moved pretty fast. She was beautiful, but she was more than that. Much more. There was a real person beneath that glowing facade. "How could I hate you?"
She broke eye contact for a moment and then looked back to me. "I still feel like I took advantage of you. If we'd been caught you could have gotten fired."
I smiled as I brushed away a single tear rolling down Melanie's cheek. "They would have fired us both. But you were worth the risk."
Melanie's head found my shoulder and she started to cry. I stroked her hair and just held her. I didn't know exactly why she was crying, but I was pretty sure it wasn't me. I thought it would be wise to just be quiet and comfort her as best as I could. She would tell me about it when she wanted to. She shivered a couple of times and I just held her tighter.
I don't know how long we were out there in the crisp winter air, but we would have probably stayed longer if not for the sound of the doorknob rattling.
My eyes flew to the door. Melanie lifted her head and looked as well.
Bam! The door flew open, banging against the side of the building. We both jumped.
A young man carrying trash bags stepped out. He turned the corner and headed for the dumpsters.
"C'mon!" I said clutching Melanie and rushing to the door. We hurried down a narrow hallway that eventually connected to an interior corridor. I wasn't sure which way to go. Then we heard, and followed the sounds of the Santana song "Satellite". Looking at each other and smiling, we walked right in. No one seemed to notice.
The band was playing, and people were salsa dancing. Melanie took my hand and led me to the dance floor.
"Whew, that was close," she whispered. She moved to stand directly in front of me, brushing my crotch with her leg as she did. We started dancing. We were holding each other close, swaying to the music. The heat of her body and her sensuous movements as we danced reminded me of Francine's encounter in the nightclub.
"Wow! I can't believe we did that out there," I told her, "And who would have thought that Francine was so loose? She's never come off that way in public when I've been around her."
Melanie leaned forward so her lips were touching my ear. "Brad, I have another confession to make," whispered Melanie.
"What's that?" I asked.
"The story about Francine and the black man? I made it up. Well, not all of it, but most of it," she said, "Actually almost all of it. "
"It wasn't true? But why..."
"I've been attracted to you since we first met at the office. I think it was your smile and the way I saw you interacting with everyone else in the department. You projected a sense of confidence, but not in an arrogant or demanding way. I like that. But you weren't making any moves. I couldn't think of a better way to find out if you were interested in me the same way."
"Yeah, I was," I answered, "I guess I was too shy to do anything about it."
"You don't have to be shy anymore. Not with me." Melanie put both her hands behind my head and gave me a brief but sensuous kiss. "Do I need to be shy with you?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Good, " she whispered, looking into my eyes, "Brad, I think you've awakened something in me that's been sleeping within me for a long time, kind of like that volcano."
"Yeah?"
"Oh yeah. I feel like I'm ready to," Melanie paused. Then she whispered, "Blow."
That single syllable rolled through the air to meet me. My body shuddered as I absorbed her meaning. "Believe me," I responded as my cock twitched, "I know what you mean."
"Do you remember the part in Francine's story, about the stairs?"
I nodded. "What about it?"
Melanie's eyes had that same sparkle I'd seen earlier. She ran her tongue across the length of her lips. "I've got stairs at my place if you've had enough of this party."
I looked at her and smiled. "I'll get the coats." | Dormant to Daring | [
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*My stories are copyrighted, so NO takee! I have to admit I got this idea from a great work of art of a confused looking rabbit girl stepping through a mirror. *
Through the Mirror
By William W. Kelso
*Alice couldn't believe this was happening to her, but the strange creature fucking her was so very real, and it felt so good!! But even as she moaned in pleasure something told her she had to get out of this place, the sooner the better; or she would be stuck there...forever. Her 'lover' suddenly sped up his thrusts, giving a high pitched squeaking squeal of pleasure as he came, and she gave a sobbing groan of her own from the incredible pleasure as another massive orgasm exploded in her ravaged sex, and that strange tingling warmth that felt so good rippled over her body again for a few seconds before fading with her orgasm. As he pulled out of her she tried to sit up, but another of the strange animal creatures grabbed her wrists and held her while another started to nibble and lick her rigid nipples, while yet another straddled her and prepared to mount her, and she gasped,*
"No, no, please, no more! I...I can't! I-I...uGGHHHH!!" And gasping, she arched herself as another strangely shaped penis slid into her quivering pussy, oh God it felt sooo gooood! "UGHHH!! P-Please...ugghhh, d-don't...!!"
As the beast serviced her she could see others waiting their turn; how many had it been now?? She'd lost count. And behind them she could see a large fancy mirror in the corner, identical to the one in her own room, wherever that might be now. She had no doubt where she was now as nowhere near her house, or any other place she knew. With a sob she wrapped her legs around her partner's slim furry waist as he began thrusting faster, running her fingers through his soft fur and clutching at him in unwanted pleasure as she stared at his inhuman face; his eyes closed in obvious passion as he fucked her, his mouth slightly open revealing short square buckteeth as he panted and squealed in pleasure. He had a short well developed muzzle, black nose with whiskers that twitched as he gasped in pleasure, and long furry ears. In short he looked like a rabbit, a partially human rabbit! He had dark grey and white fur, and some of the others who had serviced her were different colors such as spotted white or even solid black. And what they were doing to her, it was unbelievable, the sexual pleasure more intense than anything she'd ever thought possible, and despite the numerous males who had 'raped' her there was no pain, only the ever increasing pleasure. She closed her own eyes, moaning as she felt yet another orgasm building in her sensitive clenching sex.
Her mother had bought the fancy old mirror at a rummage sale; getting it for next to nothing, and had dragged it home and given it to Angie for her seventeenth birthday. For once she hadn't been disappointed by the present, and the large rectangular fancy old mirror looked great in the corner of her room. Since she didn't like the color of the frame; it had been repainted a horrible brown color at some point, she decided to refinish it. One weekend when she had the time she decided to strip off the horrible brown paint, and as she started she'd been delighted to discover the original 'ivory' white and gold detailing intact, and had carefully removed the rest of the covering paint. It came off easily, and she was pleased she wouldn't have to repaint or stain the frame after all. One thing that she did notice as she removed the brown paint was some strange small symbols carved into the fancy gilded designs; they had been totally covered by the old paint, and they looked like a combination of Latin and Chinese characters. Weird, maybe it was made in China like everything else nowadays, she thought. She quickly forgot about the strange markings, finished polishing the frame and mirror, and was delighted with the results.
Later that evening as she got out of the shower she posed in front of the mirror still in the nude, examining her ripening body. She had decent sized tits with nice pink aureoles and nipples, was slim and fit from working out and track; and had a nice thatch of pubic hair. Not too shabby, she thought, but she hoped her tits would get a little larger, at least a C cup. Turning around slowly she inspected her back, and was pleased by her nice tight butt. No fat ass here! As she turned away and got ready for bed she didn't see the characters on the mirror flash briefly, and then fade. It wasn't time yet, but soon.
She clutched at the beast as he lunged into her a final time with a loud squeal of release; burying his muzzle in her hair, and as she felt his cum spurt inside her the pleasure of her own orgasm was almost unbearable as it exploded in her sex, and as he pulled out she didn't even have time to protest before another took his place, two others holding her wrists to make sure she 'cooperated'. This one was another rabbit man; as they all had been, the only real difference was his fur was dark brown with tan on his chest and belly. She had a glimpse of his strange penis as she raised her head and he lowered himself onto; and into, her, then threw her head back and gasped as he penetrated her slick well lubed pussy. It was not a human penis, it was an animals. Long and thick with no real glans, just a pointed tip, and now it was deep inside of her as he began thrusting rapidly, making short grunts of pleasure.
"UGGHHH, OH-OH-P-PLEASE, STOOPPPP!" She sobbed, but the aroused beast ignored her pleas.*
Three days later Alice was getting ready for bed again, having just finished taking a hot shower, and when she came out of the bathroom all nice and squeaky clean the rising full moon was shining in her window. She loved it when it did that, and paused to admire how the soft white light highlighted her nude body in valleys of silver moonlight and shadow, her body almost seeming to glow. I am HOT, she thought. She liked to sleep in the buff, and as she started to walk over to the bed she suddenly saw the moonlight reflected in the large mirror suddenly seem to shimmer, ripple, like the surface of still water or mercury. Intrigued, she moved closer, but the strange effect wasn't repeated. As she turned and examined herself in her moonlight lit reflection in the mirror the strange effect suddenly came again, ripples running across the silver surface of the mirror, and with a smile she reached out and touched the mirror, and a second later was...somewhere else.
Alice involuntarily arched herself, giving a guttural groan of pleasure as her heels spasmed and kicked the back of the rabbit man fucking her as he came with a barking like squeal, and she felt another massive orgasm rack her own body. As he pulled out she lay gasping, panting as the pleasure faded, and when her ankles were suddenly gripped and she was pulled to the edge of the large fancy bed she was lying on she caught a glimpse of the mirror in the corner again, the one identical to the one in her room, the surface rippling like water in the glow of another full moon. The rabbit man gripping her ankles smiled at her, then she was flipped over onto her stomach with her rump hanging off the edge of the bed, and as she felt his hands grip her around the waste; his intent obvious, she yelled,
"N-NOOO, NOT AGAIN!! P-PLEASE!" The only response was her next sexual partner just leaned forward as he mounted her, and gently stroked the side of her face, chuffing in pleasure as he started fucking her. "OH-UGH-AAAAHHHH!!" She sobbed, and as he fucked her he chrred in her ear, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck.
Alice had felt a moment of disorientation, then suddenly found herself standing in a room that most definitely wasn't hers. It looked like it was carved out of wood, the walls, floor, and ceiling blending together with no noticeable seams or joining. Directly in front of her against one wall of the strange room was a large round bed piled with fancy soft looking pillows. Other than a chest of drawers and a couple of odd round doors there were no other furnishings. And she wasn't alone. At first she though the figures on the bed were people, then people in costumes, then she didn't know what to think. There were four of them, one obviously female, and the three servicing her obviously male. The female was lying on top of one of the males, and the other two were thrusting into her from both ends. And they were covered in fur, had muzzles, big long ears, and had frozen in obvious surprise as soon as they saw her. Then the three males had hopped; literally, off the bed and approached her in obvious delight at seeing her, and at the sight of their still rigid inhuman penises the jutted from furry sheaths she suddenly became very much aware of her own nudity. She was still too stunned by what had happened to do anything other than whimper as they gently took her by the arms and pulled her towards the bed. As they approached the female jumped off the bed and ran out one of the doors. Starting to recover from her shock Alice finally began to struggle.
"W-What the fuck is going on! She squealed, writhing and trying to pull her arms free, but the grips; though gentle, were also very strong. "Damn you, let me go!! MOOMMM!" But there was no response to her cry, and it seemed to amuse the strange beasts as they made little squealing sounds of obvious laughter.
The two strange bunny people holding her had looked at one another, ears flicking, and chittered something incomprehensible to one another, while the third had gotten back up on the bed and was...getting ready for her, his intentions obvious from the way he was fondling his large furry balls and looking at her with his wet beady eyes, his horribly alien penis rampant, a large bead of pre glistening on the dark red tip.
"NO!!" Alice shrieked as she was thrown down on the bed, the two holding her down while the third climbed on top of her. Oh my God, she realized, he's going to FUCK me! And there was nothing she could do as he did exactly that, his erection sliding between her legs as he penetrated her with a powerful thrust. He grunted and snuffled at her hair as he got comfortable; his long wet tongue licking across her face as she bucked an struggled, found a good angle, and than began thrusting powerfully, grunting in pleasure. As he fucked her the other two snuffled at her and ran their paw like hands over her body, cupping and fondling her breasts, sniffing at her long black hair. And there was something horribly...erotic about it.
As the rabbit man behind her serviced her Alice suddenly felt a hand under her chin, and as her head was lifted the one humping her ran his hands under her, and gripping her breasts pulled her into a more upright position. She found a large wet glistening penis in her face, and as she opened her mouth to protest it was pushed inside before she could react, and she gave a muffled groan as it slid into her mouth and down her throat, and helplessly she began sucking as she tried to get more air.
"MPPPFFFF, UMF-UMF, URGGGMMFF!"
*As the rabbit man behind her kept fucking her with fast steady thrusts she found herself eagerly tonguing the cock in her mouth, the hot slickness of the hard shaft as her lips slid up and down its length strangely enjoyable, and the pleasure left her feeling giddy and not quite lucid as she gave into the ecstasy. With one hand she reached up and gently fondled and squeezed the large hairy balls dangling under her chin, the owner chuffing and squealing in pleasure as he ran his hands through her hair and stroked her ears. And when the cock in her mouth suddenly pulsed and spurted she swallowed the cum, sucking eagerly to get every last sweet drop. And as it was pulled out she unhesitatingly opened her mouth to accept the next one, giving a muffled moan of pleasure as a new shaft slid down her throat. As she started sucking again she just couldn't believe she was doing this so...so enthusiastically! She'd never had any interest in oral sex before at all!!*
As the first of the strange creature had raped her Alice had seen more entering the room through one of the round doors, obviously the female had spread the word. She was appalled by how many males were literally lining up waiting for their turn, and the fewer females were watching with obvious delight as she was gang-banged, chattering back and forth to one another. Then he'd reached his release, and to her shock she'd orgasmed as well, and it was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. She was no virgin and her mother would have been shocked by just how many 'boyfriends' she'd had, but this was totally different. Oh, it wasn't so much the actual orgasm; though it was incredible, it was what came after even as the second male mounted her. It was the wonderful and relaxing warmth and tingling that radiated out from her sex and through her body in slowly growing waves of pleasure, before being renewed and intensified by her next orgasm. And each time the pleasure was more intense, the horrible ecstasy irresistible, as her body responded to the unnatural stimulation as male after male orgasmed and pumped his cum into her overflowing pussy. And as soon as each one had finished, another had taken his place, then another, and that had been...hours ago.
It went on and on, male after male mounting her, finishing, only to replaced by a new eager 'lover'. Alice rested her head on the bed; unless it was buried in a furry stomach as she sucked a cock, and finally noticed the mirror again through a haze of sexual bliss, the moonlight beginning to fade from its rippling surface. The mirror! It was that damn mirror! She knew that beyond any shadow of a doubt now, it was identical in every way to the one in her own room; right down to the weird characters which now glowed brightly, and somehow it had brought her HERE, wherever the Hell here was. So, it if had brought her here, it could take her back! And somehow she knew it had to be done during the full moon; the SAME full moon, if she didn't get back through that mirror she'd be stuck here, and she had no doubt that would mean being a sex slave to the strange rabbit people, or would they just keep fucking her until she died from sexual overstimulation? But as she felt another orgasm building in her throbbing sex she wondered if that might not be so bad, any sex she'd had before could in no way be compared to the sexual ecstasy the rabbit males were giving her; despite having been serviced more times then she could remember there was no pain, no soreness, only the incredible pleasure and ever increasing warm waves of ecstasy spreading through her body. But somehow; just as her most recent lover pulled out of her, she managed to kick backward as hard as she could and felt her foot impact something soft and furry and a loud squealing squeak of agony came from behind her as the next male in line clutched his crotch and fell to the floor, and startled, the others failed to react as she turned and sprinted faster then she'd ever run in her life towards the mirror. A couple females grabbed at her; but she knocked their hands away, and to her surprise she understood what they said!
"Eeekkk, no, don't go! You can't, not now! Eeeeee! You don't understand?! Please sister, don't go! Stay, please stay, if you leave you can never come back! Eee-Eeek! Nooo, don't! S-Sister...!"
*Then she reached the mirror and plunged through it, and sobbing in relief found herself back in her own room. Then, fearing they might come after her, she looked behind her as she finished passing through, and froze in shock as she saw her reflection in the mirror and realized she'd made a horrible mistake. *
What she saw reflected in the mirror was another one of the rabbit people, a young slim female with gray fur, lighter colored on her breasts, all six of them in three pairs, the nipples rigid and sensitive. But she wasn't quite as bestial as the others had been; there were still more human features. The muzzle was blunter, the lips more human instead of black and rubbery, but long whisker sprouted from the sides of the small wet nose. The ears weren't quite as long, and were the same black color as her still long human hair, the fur entirely covering her body was not quite as thick; a softer downy layer on her breasts and stomach. The feet were more animal then human though, they had thick pads with blunt toes with retractable claws, the shape of the feet and ankles hinting at an almost digitigrades stance. And also more animal then human was the fluffy tail at the base of the spine, and the soft pink wet lips of the vagina showing at the base of that cute fluffy tail weren't quite human either, and it was now so far back between her legs it didn't show from the front. But she recognized the green eyes staring back at her, they were her eyes, eyes wide with growing shock and...understanding as realization hit her. That incredible pleasure they'd given her, those waves of sickeningly pleasurable warmth, it had been her changing; a little at a time, as she became one of them!
With a frantic squeal she tried to pass back through the mirror, but the full moon was setting, the characters dull, the magic gone. Scratching at it desperately, she begged,
"Please let me back!! Eee-eeekkk!! I-I didn't understand! Please, I can't stay here like this! Oh please!!"
*Finally, sobbing, she slid down the mirror with a furry cheek pressed against the now hard and cold surface, knowing with horrible certainly that no human male could ever give her the pleasure the rabbit people bucks had, a pleasure she needed desperately, her new sex already throbbing for relief. *
"P-Please..! I-I don't want to be an animal! Eeee-eeeekkk! Please let me come...home!"
The End
* | Though the Mirror by Hinny Mule | [
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Author's Warning This piece is mature, featuring sexual content (it's on YiffStar, what'd you expect?). So if you're under-aged, or uptight, you might want to skip this and go read something else. You've been warned! Enjoy!
Oi, also a prewarning, this is my second true attempt at erotic, so please, bear with me. I'm still working the kinks out of my style...
Sweet Night -- by Jake Womble
We laughed as we walked into Neon's apartment, returning from our date at that new dance club that just opened up downtown. I sighed, placing my head against his chest, holding onto his arm.
"Oh, Neon, that was so much fun! I haven't danced like that in ages!" I said breathlessly, my eyes closing as we stood.
"Well, I have to admit, it was pretty fun," he said, placing his hands on my shoulders.
"Of course," I said softly. He began to slowly massage my shoulders. "Mmmm..." I moaned, feeling his touch. He gently kissed the back of my head. Of course, I took a hold of his arm, pulling him gently towards his bedroom. "Heh, c'mon, lover boy..." I said, taking him inside, shutting the door behind us. I kissed him gently, before pulling his shirt off. He blushed as I kissed him again, running my hand over his furry chest, slowly walking closer to the bed.
I smiled as I pulled Neon on top of me onto his bed, his deep brown eyes staring into mine from behind his glasses. He blushed bashfully again as he looked down at me, his shyness hiding a brilliant lover and caring soul. I reached around his neck, drawing him down into a kiss, my eyes closing as I felt our lips meet. I felt his soft, warm body lay gently on top of mine. He broke the kiss, as he stared lovingly back at me.
"Kerrin... I love you..." he said, his warm, gentle face melting into my soul.
"Oh, Neon..." I said, running my hand down this back, his brown fur feeling soft and smooth against the palm of my hands, "...I love you." He smiled warmly, the redness still lingering on his cheeks. He kissed me gently on my neck, knowing fully well that I loved that. The pleasure, ever so slight, rippled through my body. I giggled a bit at the kiss. He smiled a slightly devious smile as he slowly kissed my neck again, before slowly licking it, his tongue running smooth. I blushed, moaning slightly. That was a new trick! It felt heavenly. I clutched lightly at his back, as he licked again, another moan escaping my lips. "Oh... oh, Ne!" I found myself saying. He smiled again.
"Heh... You like that?" he asked softly. I nodded, still blushing. He chuckled a little bit.
"Well then, what if I..." he said, sitting me up. He moved behind me, rubbing my shoulders again. Oh, that felt so good! "... did something like this?" he asked, before licking my neck again.
"Ooooohhhh..." I moaned softly.
"Good..." he said softly, before kissing and licking my neck over and over again, each lick and kiss feeling better then the last. I felt his hands stop massaging my shoulders and wrap around my warmly.
"Oh, Ne..." I spoke softly, reaching back and running my hand gently through his hair gently, "How did I find someone like you?"
"I don't know, Ker..." he said, kissing my cheek, before nuzzling it affectionately, his muzzle feeling soft and friendly against my cheek, "... but... thank you."
"C'mere, lover boy..." I said, turning to him and kissing him deeply. So deeply, in fact, that he fell backwards onto his back. "You're too sweet, Ne..." I said, running my hand down to his waste, "I'm going to have to repay you somehow..." He blushed again as I unbuttoning his jeans and pulled them off, leaving him in his boxers. I chuckled at his reddened face, "Aw, you're still shy..." I said, kissing him again as I hung over him, the blush not leaving his face, gently massaging our tongues together. He still blushed as I pulled away.
"Y... you know, if you keep kissing me that well, I'll never get used to it..." he said softly, looking back up at me.
"Oh, but you're just so cute when you blush like that..." I said playfully. It was true, though. He did look adorable when he blushed like that. I knew exactly how to repay him. "Neon, I want you..." I said as seductively as possible, "... to do whatever you want..."
"W-w-what?" he asked slightly shocked, his blush deepening.
"I want you to do what you want... You've pleasured me so many times, Ne. I want you to feel the same way," I said honestly. He looked up at me, nodding slightly. "So... what do you want to do?" A smile slowly crossed his face.
"Ok... if you insist..." he said slowly, sitting up and crawling behind. He slowly slipped off my shirt, "I think I have an idea..." he said softly, kissing my neck again. I fell backwards into his lap, feeling him kiss and lick my neck again, as he unbuttoned my own pants, pulling them down the same way I had done to him, leaving my panties on. He gently wrapped his legs around my waist, keeping me there in his grasp.
"Oh, my love, what are you going to do to me?" I asked, mock-terror in my voice. He smirked slightly.
"Oh I was thinking something like... this!" he said, running a hand gently down to my stomach, rubbing gently. He smiled kissing my neck again, before biting gently into me, sending a shockwave of pleasure through my body.
"Oh! Stop this torture!" I shouted, the same mock terror in my voice. In all honesty, I wanted him to keep it up.
"Torture, eh? Well then, I guess it would be even worse if I started doing something like, oh say..." he said, gently placing his free hand on my thigh, gently massaging my tired legs, "...rub you like so?"
"OH! Then I'd have to scream so loudly!" I said, wrapping my arms behind me around his neck.
"Good, then..." he said, biting into my neck again, and sucking gently. "Mmmm... my captive tastes so good, I'm going to have to eat her up. Starting with these delicious ears..." he said, licking my ear, before nibbling gently.
"Oh, anything but that!" I yelled.
"Mmmm, tasty..." he spoke softly between nibbles.
"Oh, please my captor, let me go!"
"Oh, but I'm not finished yet... I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve." He said, before rubbing my stomach and thigh again, while nibbling at my ears. I felt something on my other thigh. A tickle. Something furry was rubbing against my thigh. I looked down, seeing Neon's tail wrap slowly around my leg, rubbing and tickling it so lightly. It was too much! I let out the biggest moan of pleasure.
"Ohhhhh... Neon! Why moan are you groan doing this? I wanted to yelp you to be pleasured." I said brokenly.
"You don't realize it yet, Ker? I love pleasuring you... It gives me the most pleasure I could ever want..." he whispered softly into my ear, before nibbling it gently.
"Oh, Ne... you're too good to me..." I gasped.
"You deserve it, my sweet fox girl. This is how I thank you for loving me..."
I turned to face him, kissing him. Oh, Neon... I love you... I fell backwards, letting him kiss me even deeper. He pulled away gently, before kissing my neck as he reached around me, undoing my bra. He returned his kisses back to my lips, as I felt one of his hands reach slowly downwards. I felt myself blush as he slowly slipped his hand into my panties, feeling around gently.
"Ohhhhh..." I moaned slightly, my blush growing deeper. I opened my eyes slowly, looking back into my lover's face.
"Hey, the shyness thing is my bit..." he said playfully.
"Oh, Ne... Take me, coyote boy!" I demanded.
He blushed as he slid downwards, kissing my stomach, going lower and lower. His tail wagged gently as he pulled my panties down. Oh, Neon... go on, please... I felt his tongue lick inside me gently, sending a second wave throughout me. "Oh!" I groaned excitedly, as he licked me again and again, his tongue exploring me thoroughly, tickling my most sensitive areas, nibbling everything inside me. My back arched, as I gently placed my hands on the back of his head, drawing him in deeper. It was bliss! I let out a loud groan as I felt myself come, but that didn't stop him. He continued, lapping and licking, determined to pleasure me even more. I felt it. He found my clit, nibbling and sucking it gently. "Oh god, Ne!" I shouted, my face growing redder by the second, "Ah! Mmmm!" I was speechless! My brain wasn't even able to formulate the words to express how great it felt. My breath quickened and my breath shortened. I came a second time... a third time... a fourth. He wasn't going to stop until I was worn senseless! A fifth time... A sixth... He finally stopped, withdrawing from me. I fell backwards, exhausted. "Oh... oh Neonorthus... where... did you learn to... love so well?" I asked, gasping for breath as I looked up into his caring and loving eyes.
"It comes naturally when I'm around you, Ker... I just want you to be happy..." he said, smiling, his face slightly red as well. I felt myself gain a second wind. I smirked, throwing him onto his back.
"Neon... You deserve this..." I said as I stared down at him, slight shock on his face. I pulled his boxers down, revealing his lovely member. He was mine now. I gently guided it into me, feeling it pulse inside my already stimulated and sensitive puss. It was heaven! I heard him gasp below me as I started to move, up and down gently. He moaned gently in pleasure, his eyes shutting, face reddening. So cute... I continued, growing faster with every pump, my breasts bouncing as I did. He moaned gently after every pump, loving every bit of it. I felt his member gently touch my clit with every movement, causing me to gasp. It was even better then his tongue! I quickened, feeling his pulse speed up as I pumped. Oh, Neon... Come for me, my lovely coyote boy! He let out the most melodic moan I've ever heard as he came, his love covering my insides. I came with him, groaning in unison with him. Lucky number seven...
We panted for a second as I sat, trying to regain my breath. I slid off of him, nuzzling myself into his chest I laid down beside him. "Ne... Why do you love me the way you do?" I asked, my eyes slowly sliding closed. He kissed top of my head.
"Like I said, Ker... you deserve it..." he said softly, holding me closely, ending another sweet night. | Sweet Night by JakeII | [
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This story contains scenes of MxM homosexual acts. If you're not into MxM, gay, or furry, don't read. If you are under 18 (21 in some states) or your locality prohibits looking at subjects of a pornographic nature, don't read. Otherwise, please enjoy.
Characters and story by SpikeFoxx
'In the beginning of the Victorian Era, it was important to note that it was a start of an age of prosperity for England. Queen Victoria was poised to expand England's ventures, both domestic and abroad. The Empire would stretch far and wide.
But in the midst of such gains was a dark undercurrent of unease and fright within the populace. Despite the evolution of civilization, crime had been on the rise, particularly in the rural areas. The constabulary were investigating numerous strange and unnatural murders extending into the wooded areas surrounding the countryside. Much of the wealthy were deaf to what was happening, within their warm manors and castles, but the general peasants were disturbed. The constables were either unable, or unwilling, to go into the less populated hamlets and solve the crimes, merely taking reports. Scotland Yard was rumored to be coming to help with manpower, but never arrived.
Witnesses to the crimes said that the bodies were left in an 'unholy manner,' killed in a way that even the most unconscionable man of God would be left in horror. The victims were exsanguinated, left almost literally as husks of their previous selves, and dumped nude in the forests. Females seemed to the favored amongst those taken, but males also would turn up on occasion. The popular theory among the commoners was that the killer, or killers, wanted those furs that would not fight back as much. No children or elderly have yet to be discovered.
Rumors abound of a cult, or pagans, hiding in the dark woods that surround the local hamlets and taking the serfs for their unholy, godless rituals. Satanic worship is, of course, also the primary focus for any strange happenstances that cannot be explained. But no runic marks or ritualistic use of the body is present. Metropolitan Police have dismissed such allegations out of hand, assuring all with attention to the matter that satanic cults would be rooted out if they were in existence.
In the back rooms and secret meetings, however, is another word being whispered on some lips; 'vampyr,' the nosferatu, night walkers, The Unholy Ones. Vampirism had not been on written record since 1821, and was disqualified later on the basis that the offender was drinking blood as a fetish, not sustaining his life, or unlife. But once the idea is mentioned, it spreads through a community like a fire to dry kindling. In towns now, when the sun goes down, females herd their children inside and lock the door, and even males look over their shoulders if they must venture outside after dark. Far from the comfort of the large cities, these furs must survive on their own. The fear of a loved one coming back as some revenant is an even more creeping fear, but that the bodies are discovered intact later on has assuaged such fears for the moment.
To hunt a vampyr, one must be of great fortitude and a follower of God. Such souls are rare, but exist. At least to those that believe in the creatures of midnight that plague all children of the divine. In some of my earlier years, I had witnessed such things, but to speak of them publicly leads to rumors of insanity and godlessness. My only prayers now go out to finding a way to end this nightmare that grips our country. God save the Queen.'
Excerpt from Lord Reginald Stanley's private journal, 1844
PROLOGUE
September 23rd, 1844
Near Rumsford, England
Victoria dumped her last remaining bit of laundry into the basket, taking it down from the clothesline in the backyard. It had been a pleasant Autumn day, potentially one of the last before the cooler winds would sweep over the countryside. The vixen looked over the nearby tree line, seeing the waning sun disappearing. Her mother had warned her to be in the house and firmly bar the door shut by sundown. Last week, in the closest town of Rumsford, three females and one male had gone missing. Their bodies had later turned up, downriver, one by one. They had been found naked, and, according to her mother's friend, looked as if someone had drained all the life from them.
Picking up the basket, she set it atop a nearby table, gathering up a couple more things to take into the house with her. Her husband, an apothecary, had gone to the larger hamlet of Reisgard to sell his medicines. The larger city was almost two days trip by horse, so he would not be returning any time soon. She had been taking the opportunity of an empty house to do some cleaning and finish the chores.
She sighed, wishing she'd had time to go visit her mother today. She had just visited the elder fox a couple before, but had wanted to go again. Her mother lived much closer to Rumsford, and was terrified of the murders. Victoria had offered to let her parent stay for a few days with her husband out of town, but her mother had declined. But now the sun was going down, and Victoria knew if she ventured down the road to her mother's house, she would never hear the end of it for going against the warning.
When she had gone to the small market yesterday, several of the more gossipy females had been more than happy to discuss what had been going on. While Victoria had never been one to engage in the idle gossip, especially when it concerned the lives of others, she had been unable to help herself in stopping for a moment to listen. Most everyone suggested a cult of some sort, living deep in the woods where not even the hunters dared venture, for fear of getting lost, or meeting some denizen of the forest. Most every place had the stock stories of even the bravest of males getting lost in the woods with no way to get home, or females falling victim to some grotesque creature with an appetite that could not be sated. But what was more disconcerting was what wasn't being said; a terror in their eyes that none of them gave voice to, but all were thinking. A supernatural fear of a creature that walks the night, and could no longer be called of this world.
To Victoria, such notions were nonsense. Merely tales told at bedtime to frighten small children, or by males to make themselves feel tough. The idea of creatures stalking the forest and preying on the blood of the living was just ridiculous.
But at the same time, Victoria found her paws moving just a hint faster as twilight approached, and looking over her shoulder from time to time. They had purchased this plot of land when they were married, intentionally finding one well away from the village. But now, that seemed like a stupid idea; far from the village meant far from safety, and help. The Metro Police had been by when the initial murders happened, but had done little besides take reports. They hadn't even bothered taking witness reports. And they had left no one behind as guards. One of the males in the village was an 'honorary' constable, but aside from having a rifle he supplied himself, it was a title in name only.
Going into the house, she set the basket down, closing the door behind her. She took a heavy wooden beam off the floor and set in brackets across the door. Looking from the window, she could see the sun finally officially setting. She pressed a paw to the glass, feeling the cooler night air beginning to leech in against it. Her husband had bought the glass for the house shortly after they moved, which had not been cheap; he had been able to afford enough for two windows in the front and one in the back. But he had insisted a female should have a view at all times. While standing there, she flipped the lock latches shut on the windows as well.
She sat down in a chair next to their hearth, lighting a couple of candles and using a flint to start the fireplace. The living room was sparsely decorated, only a couple bits of furniture here and there, and a table in the middle. The chair she sat in had been her mother's, given to her when her father died. The chair had once been his, and her mother had wanted her to have it to remind her of him. Victoria strongly suspected it had also been too much to have the memoir of her departed husband around.
By the candlelight, she picked up a book she had traded for when she was in town. She hadn't even been sure of what it was about, and didn't care. She liked to read, her father having taught her when she was younger. Books out here were a rare commodity, and this one had been hand-written, even rarer. After a hard day of work, she couldn't imagine a better way to spend the evening than with a book by the fire.
When the first scream came, she wasn't even sure she had heard it. Setting her book down in her lap, she looked towards the window, at the cloying darkness that was now out there. The candles reflected in the window, flames dancing across the glass.
"Now I'm just getting jumpy," she whispered to herself, her own voice almost sounding strange to her. She shook her head and went back to her book. Turning the page, she jumped from her chair when another yell pierced the night air, much closer this time. Dropping her book, she grabbed a lantern by the front door and lit it with one of the candles. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and opened the door, stepping outside.
A new moon cast no light over the surrounding field. She could make out the dirt road at the edge of her property that led six miles down to Rumsford. Her light trailed off into inky blackness, especially when it approached the edge of the woods. Their house was about sixty feet from the edge of the tree line. Steadying herself, Victoria walked towards the trees, holding her lantern high to cast as much light as she could. A wind was starting to blow across the field, rustling the trees. She pulled her shawl tighter against herself as she came to the tree line, stopping. Beyond, she could hardly see anything. She also hadn't heard any more screaming. Looking over her shoulder back towards the house, she walked into the trees. Her paws crunched on dead leaves, and branches assailed her face. With only one paw free, she was moving them aside as best she could, but some still slapped and poked her.
"Hello?" she called, feeling conspicuous as she did so. If someone had been screaming and stopped now, that couldn't be good. But at the same time, what if they weren't being attacked, just hurt? "Hello!?" she called again.
Moving further into the woods, she followed the path she thought best, which was the way to the well house. Her husband had constructed it around a natural spring they had found. Whether it was technically theirs or not, she didn't know, but no one had ever come to contest it. Just barely able to make out the shallow path her husband had made, she picked her way along through the woods. The forest was deathly quiet, and that was almost the most disturbing of all; normally there would be crickets, frogs, owls, some sort of animals to make noise. But now there was nothing, like the forest was holding its breath.
In the middle of the forest was a small clearing, perhaps ten yards wide, with a small hut in the center, which was their spring house. Grass grew high around it, the two of them not really bothering to keep it tended. They also didn't want to attract too much attention to it by anyone passing by. She swept the lantern back and forth, looking around. The grass here had been trampled, and recently. Someone had come through here.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" she yelled out once again. There was no reply still. Either she had gone the wrong way, or whoever was there wasn't any longer. Victoria turned to walk back to the house when she heard a gentle noise. Turning around, she looked again, but still saw no one. But she heard the noise again; an almost imperceptible scraping noise. Most definitely coming from the spring house.
The tall grass rubbing at her, she walked to the doorway, gently lifting the latch and looking inside. It was dark, save for her lantern as she slowly opened the door. In the corner was the spring, a dark pool of still water with a trough connected to it, that was currently stoppered up. She opened the door all the way, and cried out.
On the floor, in front of her, their back to her, was a male, squatting down over some dark object. She couldn't see through the male, just could see that he had tattered rags on and smelled like a slaughterhouse. Moving a bit closer, she could see he had his muzzle to the throat of a body beneath him, and was suckling gently. She gasped when she realized he was drinking the blood from the body. Backing up gently, she bumped into the door, gasping. The male in front of him looked over his shoulder sharply. She could now see it was a raccoon, with blood smeared all around his muzzle. His eyes literally glowed red, full of malevolence and hatred. He stood, revealing the body on the ground. Victoria gasped loudly again when she saw the pool of blood, but more so that it was Mrs. Randall, a kindly white-tailed deer that lived down the road. The raccoon growled, almost hissing, the smell of his breath putrid to Victoria. Gagging, she turned and ran, dropping the lantern. She closed the door behind her even as she felt the male tugging on it from the other side. Turning and running, she ran into the woods, moving without heed. She also realized she was screaming, not even for help, just screaming. Behind her, she heard ragged breathing, heavy footfalls, and snapping branches as the raccoon came for her in desperate pursuit. She had been hoping to lose him when she first took off from the spring house, but had no such luck. She also realized, to her horror, she had ended up running away from the house, and deeper into the woods.
Her dress was becoming increasingly tangled in the branches of the leafless trees, slowing her down. She had long since abandoned her shawl, letting it drop off as she ran. For every step she took, it seemed he was getting closer. She wanted to close her eyes, but dared not. Coming to another natural clearing in the woods, she tried to gain ground, but didn't see the log half-buried in the soil. Her paw caught the edge of it, and she fell on his face, knocking the wind from her. Groaning, she rolled over and made out the formless, dark shape of her pursuer, now on top of her. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and knew she couldn't fight back. He stood over her, growling throatily, licking his lips. She felt saliva drip across her cheek, and she whimpered as he came closer, his fetid breath washing over her.
"So delicious," said the raccoon, in a guttural voice. "The last one was older, but you...you will be my feast." He traced a claw along her neck, stroking it almost lovingly. "I can feel it...your blood..." The raccoon leaned in closer with a rapacious grunt. Victoria closed her eyes and waited, not even able to yell out or fight back.
"Hold it right there," came a gruff voice. Victoria felt the raccoon withdraw from near her neck and look up. She opened her eyes and looked to her right, where the voice had come from. Standing next to the two of them was a male dressed entirely in black, from head to toe. Black button-up shirt with a black leather vest over it, ebony pants and boots, and a sable longcoat. He himself was a wolf the color of midnight, the only part of him not dark as pitch were his eyes, which burned yellow. He was holding a large revolver in one hand, down by his side. He also had a long, thin sword on his left hip she did not recognize.
The raccoon hissed. "Back off, she is mine!"
"I don't think so," murmured the wolf, raising his revolver and cocking the trigger. "Get off the female."
Growling, the raccoon got up and stood hunched over, like he was ready to strike.
"Young lady, get behind me," commanded the wolf, with a thick British, upper-class accent. "Quickly, please."
Victoria did not need to be told twice, scrambling to her feet and getting behind this stranger was willing to save her. The stranger did not take his eyes from the raccoon as she got behind him.
"I will kill you!" shouted the raccoon, lunging forward after what he still considered his meal. The wolf did not flinch, pulling the trigger and firing into the raccoon. The raccoon stumbled and looked surprised, as if he thought the bullet would merely be grazing him. He fell to his knees, clutching at his chest where the bullet had entered. The stranger walked up to the raccoon, pressed the end of the barrel to his forehead, and pulled the trigger. The raccoon's head bucked backward, and he fell dead on his back. The stranger returned the revolver to a holster on his right hip under his longcoat. He turned to Victoria, kneeling in front of her.
"Were you bitten?" he asked, lowly.
"Was...I...," breathed Victoria, feeling her neck. "No..."
"Good," the stranger said, standing. "I would suggest you return your home, and do not go outside. He wasn't the only one of his kind stalking these woods."
"Wait," called Victoria, standing. "Who...what was he? And who are you?"
"He was a vampire," explained the stranger casually. "And I hunt vampires." He looked over his shoulder. "You may go outside again in two days; then it will be over."
"But, I--" she began, but stopped when she realized he was gone. The wolf had melted into the forest, as if he were some apparition himself. Victoria looked down at the body of the raccoon, a look of shock stuck on his face, a giant hole between his eyes. Shivering, not from the cold, Victoria ran for the house, and did not stop until she was inside with the bar back across the door.
PART ONE
"When Sir Helsing uncovered the 'vampyr,' not even he could fathom the terror, and insanity that would be unearthed by it. An affliction that could turn the faithful from God, and lead them to horrible acts against their fellow fur, is an idea too evil even for the Devil himself."
'The History of the Vampyr,' by Sir Aldale, 1832
October 20th, 1844
Village of Issix
The carriage bounced along the dirt road between the dense crop of trees, dipping into the numerous potholes here and there. The horses neighed at the discomfort of the road, and the driver spurring them onward. Inside, beyond the drape of the velvet privacy curtains, was a single figure. Hunched in his seat, his sword braced between his legs, he parted the curtain just enough to look outside. Dusk was swiftly approaching, and if the letter he had received from the mayor of the town was any indication, the carriage driver would want to either get a room for the night or drive quickly out of the area.
A mountain rose up in front of them, not large by any means, but certainly dwarfing the town in front of them. Lanterns were already visible as the carriage came down the road, appearing one by one across the village, and wisps of smoke curling from the chimneys of some of the houses. Pulling to a stop, the carriage driver hopped from his seat, coming over and opening the door with a bow. The rider stepped down, securing his sword through a leather belt at his side. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a handful of gold pieces and handed them to the driver. Nodding with thanks, the driver took his payment and leaped back to his perch, retreating from the town as fast as he dared.
"You must be Sir McClintock," came a voice from the nearest building. An older skunk with a bit of glut about him stood in the doorway, coming down the cobblestone pathway. "I'm mayor Herbert Wesson, the one who sent for you."
The black wolf looked at the mayor impassively. "No one calls me by that name anymore. Rafe will do just fine."
The mayor smiled cheerily. "As you wish. Please, come inside." He gestured to the door of what Rafe surmised was the town hall. "It's awfully cold, even for October. Let's go inside."
Rafe followed the mayor inside without another word, watching as the skunk secured a large block across the door on the inside. He smiled nervously as he did so, dusting his paws off over-dramatically when he done, as if they never touched dirt and dust.
"My office is in the back," remarked the mayor. "I sleep upstairs; pretty much doubles as my home. There's also a conference room. That's where we've been doing the investigation." He described the whole thing as if he were trying to convince Rafe that they weren't a podunk, back-water town forgotten by the elite of society. Even the mayor's dress vest and slacks looked second-hand and worn.
"We're a little out of the way, I know," the mayor continued as they went down a candlelit hallway that ran next to a staircase. "I'm sure it's not what you're used to."
"Actually I do most of my work in places like this," muttered Rafe. "Smaller places seem to...attract them."
Wesson said nothing in reply as they came to the back room, which was a set of double-doors that the he opened, letting the two of them in. Within were two more males, a deer and a beagle, standing behind a long desk, which had a lumpy object on it under a blanket. Candlelight from wall sconces cast odd shadows, almost seeming to have sinister intent behind them.
"These are Franklin and Winthrop, the town undertaker and physician," introduced Wesson. Both males extended their hands, but Rafe made no move in return. The two of them awkwardly lowered their hands.
"Well," began Winthrop, the deer, "this is our latest victim, killed just last night." He pulled the top edge of the blanket back, revealing the face of a female. The fur of her neck was covered in crusted blood, around a clean, almost surgical-looking puncture wound. Rafe stepped nearer the corpse and bent over to examine it.
"Where was she found?" asked the wolf.
"Just outside of town, in the foothills," responded Franklin, the undertaker, pushing a set of spectacles back up on the bridge of his muzzle. "We found her nude, limbs spread wide around her, and she was lying on her back." He looked down at the body, and added softly, "Aside from the blood, we could hardly tell she was dead."
Herbert cleared his throat and interjected, "We felt we should send for help when these...incidents happened. When I sent the letter for your assistance, we were already up to four, three females and one male, and the townsfolk were getting nervous. Now we're up to six. No one will go out at night, and hardly anyone will go out during the day. Even the farmers in the nearby lands are letting their crops go to waste."
"Where are the other bodies?" asked Rafe, standing up straight.
The three males of the town looked at each other, before the mayor replied, "We buried them. Far away from town."
Rafe said nothing, just looking at him inexpressively.
"The townsfolk didn't want their loved ones who had been...desecrated so close to them," the mayor added hastily. "I couldn't very well make them all live with the knowledge that the bodies would be buried in the normal grave plots."
Still saying nothing, Rafe turned back to the body, moving the blanket and looking over the entire body. No signs of a struggle, no broken bones, no bleeding aside from the neck. Franklin was right; except the main wound, the body was pristine.
"Is it...what we feared?" asked Winthrop, fidgeting nervously with his hands.
Rafe replaced the blanket, including recovering the face. "Yes, it is a vampire."
None of the other three males replied, their terror and apprehension visible on their faces, the the tension they felt almost palpable. Rafe didn't blame them. Vampires were terrifying, and until it was stopped, they wouldn't have a moment's peace. He had seen entire towns get up and leave, taking only what could be carried on their backs and horses. But that wasn't a true answer; the vampire would merely move onto another township, and begin anew. Extermination was the only real solution.
"Can you...get rid of it?" asked Herbert. "We've got six furs dead. Any more, and we'll probably have villagers start leaving."
"Is there somewhere in town I can stay?" asked the wolf.
The mayor stared blankly at Rafe for a moment. "Um...yes, the inn is just down the road, run by Christine, since her husband died as one of the...victims."
Walking around the table, Rafe said to them, "I will begin my investigation tomorrow. Starting with the townsfolk."
"You seriously suspect someone in town of being the creature?" asked Winthrop, with surprise and disbelief in his voice.
"Right now, nothing will be ruled out without confirmation," replied Rafe. "I will start in the morning. I suggest you gentlemen make your ways home. You may dispose of the body however you see fit." With that, he was gone through the door, leaving the three males and the body to themselves. His boots thudded on the hardwood floor as he made his way back to the front door. Stepping into the night, his coat rustled gently as it was caught in the autumn night's breeze. The street lamps were still burning gently. They had just enough of them to light up the main street, which was really all there was to the town. Rafe also noticed that they put just enough oil in the lamps to burn for a few hours, so no one would have to come and put them out.
The inn wasn't hard to find, since it was one of the only major buildings on the dirt street. He came up the cobblestone walkway from the road, opening the door gently. The scent of fresh-baked bread drifted under his nostrils, smelling delicious. Quietly closing the door behind him, he looked around. Directly opposite the door was a wide counter, with various liqueurs and ales behind it. He surmised that the inn doubled as the local tavern. Steps off to the left of the counter went upstairs, he assumed to the rooms. The right side of the main room was occupied with tables and chairs, and beyond that, judging by the smell, was the kitchen. Moving closer to the counter, he could see paintings placed on the walls around the room, depicting various shots of the countryside of Issix. To Rafe, they were quite good.
"Like my work?" came a voice, with an Irish accent. Rafe looked to his right and saw a female lynx standing in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the woodwork of the doorframe. She had a white dress on, and her long hair tied back in a ponytail. "I thought I heard someone come in while I was making bread for tomorrow's breakfast."
"My name is Rafe," said the wolf, quietly. "You must be Christine. The mayor mentioned you ran this establishment."
"That's true," she replied with a nod, walking further into the main room. Using one of the already lit candles, she set a few more burning, illuminating the room. "I have taken over all the duties around here since my husband died."
"My condolences," he said, barely above a whisper.
She smiled sadly. "Thank you." Pulling one of the chairs out she sat down. "You must be the hunter everyone has been talking about."
Now was Rafe's turn to nod. "That I am."
"Don't talk much, either, do you?" she asked, with a genuine smile this time.
"No," was all he said in return.
"Do you drink?" she inquired, standing and walking behind the counter, taking a green glass bottle off the shelf. "Interest you in a glass of my late husband's homemade wine?"
Rafe shook his head. "I couldn't. You can't have a lot of it--"
She cut him off with the pop of the cork. "Too late, opened now." Setting two glasses on the countertop, she poured a bit into each one. He reached out and took his glass, swirling the red wine a bit in the glass before taking a sip. A wonderful bouquet of oak, vanilla, and cherries greeted him.
"Your husband made a wonderful wine," he said, taking another sip.
"I'm glad you enjoy it," she replied. "I'm sure my husband would have liked the compliment as well. We didn't get a lot of visitors, and most were just passing through, or roaming traders. Not many of the townsfolk enjoy a good glass of wine, either; most would rather just come in for the mead or ale."
Reaching under his jacket, he took out a handful of gold coins and set them on the counter. "This should cover a room for two nights, meals, and the glass of wine."
"The wine is on the house," Christine assured him.
"Then consider it a bonus," answered Rafe, finishing his glass. She picked up the bottle and refilled his, topping hers off again.
"I do just have one request," she murmured, drinking her wine. Rafe said nothing, waiting. "I want you to kill whatever murdered my husband."
The wolf remained silent for a moment. "That's why I came here." He could see that she was gazing at his revolver, that had come in view when he sat down and his coat had fallen away from his hip. Reaching down, he pulled his coat back over his weapon.
"It's all right," she said, quietly. "I wouldn't think you'd be using harsh language."
"No, I suppose not." He finished his wine again, savoring the last bit of flavor on his tongue. "Could I have my room key?"
"Of course," answered Christine, reaching under the counter and handing him a key. "Up the stairs on the left, room three. It's the biggest of them." As he stood up, she added, "Why don't you take the rest of the wine to your room with you?"
"It's your husband's...why don't you--"
She cut him off with, "I have several racks in the basement with more, and he had shown me how to make it. I may not be as good as he was yet, but someday." She half-smiled. "I plan to even put my own spirit into it."
With a slight bow at the waist, Rafe took the bottle and glass with him, climbing upstairs. Inserting the key in door at the top of the stairs, he stepped inside, noticing that there was already a lit candle on the desk. Apparently Christine really had been expecting him. There was a single bed against the wall under the window, which was currently open, and looked out over the dirt road of the town. Next to the bed was another table, with an oil lamp on it. He opted to just have the one candle on.
Standing by the window, he took his jacket off, setting over the end of the bed frame. He also took his revolver out of its holster, putting it on the bedside table within easy reach. Bracing his sword against the wall, Rafe stripped off his pants and shirt, leaving himself nude. By candlelight, his ebony fur see | Call of the Night by VoodooRoo | [
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med to have a golden hue to it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he sighed deeply. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. He leaned over and blew out the candle. Outside light crept in through the window, growing darker by the moment as clouds moved in over the half-moon that was high in the September sky. By the time he had lay down on the bed, rain was gently pattering against the window and thunder was rumbling in the distance. To Rafe, it was comforting, like a familiar friend.
Early morning light streamed down the staircase from the window at the top. The silver tray rattled a bit from the plates and cups on it, and Christine's paws thumped ever so slightly on the wooden staircase. She had tied her shoulder-length hair up in a loose ponytail, and put on her best dress; the one her husband had brought back from a trip to London.
When she arrived at the top of the stairs, Christine knocked gently on the door of Rafe's room. There was a brief shuffling sound from within, the latch on the door being undone, and then the portal opening. The black wolf stood in the doorway, nude.
"Oh, I'm...sorry," she gasped, looking down. "I didn't realize..."
"It's all right," Rafe said, gently. "Breakfast?"
"Yes," she replied. "Um, toast, eggs, and tea."
The wolf reached out and took the tray. "Thank you. Please, come in."
Hesitantly, Christine followed him into the room. She gazed at his sinewy back, taught arms, and butt that looked like it was made of marble. He bent over and grabbed his pants, pulling them on and cinching up his belt. She smiled, relievedly, now that he was at least half-clothed. "I hope I didn't wake you."
"No, not at all," answered Rafe, sitting on the bed. "I usually get up with the sun." He sipped the tea she had brought him. "Honeysuckle," he observed.
"You know your wines and teas," she said, happily. She took the chair at the desk, sitting properly. "What are you going to do today?"
Eating his eggs, he answered, "Walk town a bit, question some of the furs here."
Christine furrowed her brow. "Why?"
"Because sometimes what I'm looking for is hiding in plain sight," replied Rafe. "Is there anyone in town you rarely or never see in daylight?"
The lynx thought for a moment. "No, not really. A lot of them are farmers, one raises horses. Mr. Winthrop is the town physician, both for furs and the livestock; he's out all day. Mr. Franklin is the undertaker, but he also does odd jobs around town to make money in his off time."
Eating the last bit of toast with home-made apple jam on it, he inquired, "What about the females?"
"Same," answered Christine. "Doing chores all day; hanging the laundry, washing, tending to gardens, if they have any. Mr. Wayne's wife does seamstress work in town; repairing dresses and pants, sheets, anything, really. Also at the end of every month is the town quilting group, which takes place before sundown."
Rafe said nothing, getting up and going to the window, opening it. Autumn scents drifted into him; the smell of dry leaves, crisp air, and a dogwood tree somewhere nearby. "What can you tell me about the victims?"
"Why not ask Mr. Winthrop?" she asked in return.
"If I wanted to know about the physical aspects of the bodies, I would," he explained, turning back to her, picking up his tea and drinking. "What about them personally?"
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Mrs. Margarette was first, about a month ago. She was the wife of the undertaker for the area. They found her...all tore up at the end of the stream, that feeds into the foothills." Christine was silent for a moment, before resuming. "Mr. Dankins found her."
"Where does he live?" asked Rafe.
"At the base of the foothills," she replied. "In a small shack, by himself. Grows his own food, comes into town for meat and medicine occasionally. No one ever really talks to him."
"And have you ever--?" started Rafe, but Christine cut him off.
"Yes, I've seen him during the day," she replied, with a sad smile.
He didn't say anything in reply, reaching down and pulling on a black shirt and black vest, securing a belt around his waist with his pistol holster on it. Picking up his large revolver off the desk, he double-checked it and placed it snug to its home.
"I've never seen a revolver quite like that," observed the lynx, looking closer at the weapon.
"Custom-made," replied Rafe, "by an outfitter in London." She could see it was made from a very bright material, that to her looked almost like silver. It also had a heavy barrel and longer hammer.
"Do you really use silver bullets?" asked Christine.
"No," replied Rafe, "that's a myth. Mine are actually made of gold."
"What about garlic, crosses, and the like?"
Rafe shook his head. "Crosses and religious artifacts are useless. Vampires can cross into graveyards, churches, anywhere they please. They don't need to be invited in. Garlic never seems to bother them either. For all accounts, they don't seem to be demons or hellspawn. No one is still really sure why they have the need to feed on other beings, or where they came from in the first place. But what I do know is they die like anyone else." Crossing the room, Rafe stopped at the door. "Thank you for breakfast."
Christine smiled and nodded. "It was my pleasure. Be back at sunset, I'll have dinner ready."
Saying nothing else, he opened the door and disappeared silently. The only way Christine knew he had left was when she head the front door close, almost imperceptibly.
The overhead sun was obscured as he moved further into the tree line at the edge of town. Rafe looked around himself, noticing the beaten-down path of horses, cattle, and other furs get more indistinguishable and replaced with long grass and overgrown foliage. The mountain, part of the Pennines range, rose up out of the foothills in front of him. He walked through the grass scuffing against his calves, seeing a ramshackle shack set farther back along the trees. He didn't think whoever lived out there was the vampire, but he did want to discuss the first body.
Approaching the shack, he heard a gunshot ring out. Rafe dropped to one knee, pulling his revolver and cocking the hammer. "Who's there!?" he called out.
From around the corner of the shack came a badger holding a double rifle, holding it up at waist height. "Whoa are you!?" called back the badger, eyeing Rafe suspiciously.
The wolf got back on his feet, holding the revolver up. "I'm Rafe. The mayor hired me to root out your problem."
The badger slowly lowered the rifle, still looking at unease. "Well, come on over."
Walking slowly, still holding his weapon, Rafe came closer to the badger. "I was told you found the first body."
Nodding, the badger replied, "Yes, that's true." Rafe could now see the badger was older, around his forties. His hands twitched a bit, making the rifle rattle. Rafe surmised that was why he was still alive now.
"So you're Mr. Dankins," observed Rafe.
"Yes, that I am," answered Dankins. "My apologies, I don't get a lot of visitors out here. Plenty of thieves looking for free food, though, what with my garden out back."
Ignoring the apology, Rafe just pressed on. "Could we go somewhere to talk?"
Dankins nodded, turning and walking to the front door, Rafe following him. The badger opened the door, both of them ducking inside. The interior was all one room, with a couple tables, a small cooking area, fireplace, and bed. The badger set the rifle next to the front door, turning to Rafe. " 'Fraid I don't have much of any place to sit."
"Standing is fine," replied Rafe, flatly. "I just want to know about the first body you found."
Dankins nodded, reaching for a pipe and bit of tobacco, lighting it up and puffing gently. "I found it when I went down to the stream to get water. It runs down through the hills here and around the town. Several of the farmers built their places specifically around it."
"And then?" prodded Rafe, not caring about the genesis of the outlying areas.
Dankins blew out a bit of smoke, continuing. "She was on the bank, nude, and aside from looking rather pale under her fur, she appeared as if she was asleep. I thought maybe she had wandered out and passed out. But when I approached her, and saw the blood, and couldn't awake her, it was more obvious."
"And then came the others," encouraged Rafe. The badger nodded. "All found out here in the foothills," continued the wolf.
"That's correct."
"Anyone odd or new come through in the last month?"
Dankins scratched his chin for a moment. "No, just the usual traveling merchants and the like. I purchased some cured beef from one of them."
Rafe was beginning to think that the badger was not the font of information he first thought. "So, you only found the body? Nothing else to add?"
Dankins shook his head. "I don't like to interact with the town. Not more than I have to anyway. Grow my own food, get water from the stream, stitch as many of my own clothes as I can. Really I only go to town for bigger items and meat."
Shaking his head, mostly at the waste of time, Rafe was turning to leave when something caught his eye. He leaned over and picked up a jewel-studded tankard, looking it over. "Where did this come from?"
Dankins fidgeted with his paws for a moment, looking away. "I found it."
Rafe raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
"It's not a crime to found something," retorted the badger. "It was...on the ground. Out in the woods."
The wolf sighed deeply, eyeing the badger. He didn't even need to say a word to know that Dankins was lying. Something this nice, and above all clean, would not be found in the dust and dirt. The badger wouldn't meet his gaze except fleetingly, and it wasn't much longer before he was ready to give in. "All right, I got it from someplace."
"No place in town," pointed out Rafe.
"No," confirmed Dankins. "From the manor. Out in the woods."
"What manor?" asked Rafe, setting the tankard down.
"The old one, that no one ever goes to," answered Dankins. "I went there one day, since everyone used to say a rich family used to live there. No one knows why they left. It's been pretty much abandoned for a long time."
"And no one else from town ever goes up there?" asked Rafe.
Dankins nodded. "The mayor may know more than I do about it. Not that he knows about much of anything."
The wolf replied with nothing else, opening the door and stepping back outside, leaving the smell of tobacco and dust behind him. The sun was already approaching its zenith, nearing noon. It had taken longer to get out here than he had expected. But now that he was on a lead, he needed to speak with the mayor, and get more information. But, first, he wanted to see where the bodies were.
"Mr. Dankins," he began, looking back inside the shack. "Could you show me exactly where the bodies were found?"
The badger nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. It's right near my well. Come with me." Closing the door behind them, the badger waked towards the treeline, away from the tilled and tended land around his dwelling. Dirt turned to thick grass, occluded on all sides by tall trees. As they walked along, Rafe heard the distinct sound of running water. Through a dense copse of maples, Dankins lead the wolf upon the creek. It flowed along at a decent pace, disappearing in a bend to the right as it headed towards the town.
"Meets up with the larger Green River a few miles down," remarked Dankins, watching as Rafe walked along the bank.
"This is where they were?" asked Rafe.
The badger nodded, squinting against the bright sunlight filtering down through the trees. "Aye. My well is right over there." Taking a few steps closer to the bank, Dankins removed a circular cover stone, approximately the size of a small dinner plate. Inside was clear water up to the brim. "Fed by the stream and an underground source. Even during a dry spell, there's water here."
"And no one else knows about it?" inquired Rafe, bending on one knee and examining the earth before him.
"No, sir," answered Dankins, sounding as if he were proud of himself for hording the source.
Pinching a bit of dirt between his fingers, and bringing it to his eyes, Rafe squinted, as if he were blinded by the loam pincered in his digits. "When was the last killing?"
"Two days ago, I believe," answered Winthrop. "That was the night it rained terribly."
"Did it rain every night there was a killing?" posed Rafe, looking at Dankins.
The badger's brows furrowed for a moment, thinking, puffing on his pipe. "Now that you mention it, yes. It's been particularly rainy lately, and kept the well quite high. I was coming out a lot, and was finding the bodies."
The black wolf frowned. This was a smart one then; moving on nights of a storm, when it would be darkest, and the rain would naturally wipe away all trace. He had never encountered such a level of intelligence. Deep down, it worried him. Across the stream, he could see more trees retreating further up the mountainside. Idly, he wondered where the manor that Dankins mentioned was.
"Mr. Rafe?" called Dankins.
The wolf looked up from his thoughts. "Yes?"
"It's about lunch," pointed out Dankins. "I'd like to get back home."
The wolf stood up, letting the loose dirt go. "Of course." He bowed slightly at the waist. "By your leave." With that, he turned and headed back towards town, leaving Dankins alone to just watch the wolf leave.
Herbert Wesson sat down in his dining room, taking his lunch of tea and, a rare treat for himself, fish. Preparing to eat, he was interrupted by a knock at the front door. Sighing, he set his fork down and went to the front door, opening it to the black clad visitor.
"Oh, hello," he said to the wolf. "Please come in."
Saying nothing, Rafe stepped past him and inside, standing in the lobby while Herbert closed the door behind them. "I was just about to have lunch, if you'd care to join me."
"Just tea would be fine," answered Rafe, walking into the dining area. "I actually only came to ask a few questions."
"Please, by all means," said Herbert, pouring Rafe a cup of tea and setting it in front of him. The two of them sat down at the table, which Rafe noticed was covered in an old, stained tablecloth, and what looked like inherited sterling silver tableware. There was a bay window that offered an excellent view of the fields not yet claimed by the expansion of the town. "What's on your mind?" asked the mayor.
"I had a word with the badger who lives on the edge of the foothills," started Rafe.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Dankins," commented the mayor. "He's one of the more...colorful members of the community, which is putting it mildly."
"He mentioned an old, abandoned manor in the mountains," continued Rafe, ignoring the mayor. "When was the last time anyone was up there?"
"Oh, it's been sometime," answered Herbert. "A landscaper from the local town came by to appraise the land it was on, and it was priced far beyond what anyone could afford, and certainly with the mansion on it as well."
"Where is it, exactly?" asked Rafe, sipping his tea, which he noticed was Earl Grey.
"Just at the top of he footpath," replied Herbert, finishing his fish in between sentences. "Not far at all, really. But no one goes up there." He shrugged. "Really no reason to."
"Had anyone been up there when the killings first started?"
The mayor thought for a moment, sipping his own tea. "Not that I know of. Again, there's no reason for anyone to be up there."
Rafe nodded. "How far would it be from where the first body was found?"
"Again, not far," Herbert said. "It's pretty much right at the top of the footpath."
"Thank you," began Rafe, standing. "This has been very helpful."
"Glad I could help," the mayor responded slowly, not sure how helpful he had really been. He stood with Rafe, walking the wolf to the door. "Anything else you need, please stop by."
"I will be sure to," replied Rafe. Stepping through the door, he heard the mayor close the door behind him. The wolf looked up to the sky, noticing the sun falling already. It wouldn't be long before dusk. Going up into the mountains now would not be wise. Already, the town was beginning to shut down. He could see several furs heading home, and one going around to the lamps in town and lighting them for the evening. With the advent of night coming, he decided to go back to the inn.
True to her word, at sunset Rafe could smell the redolent scent of dinner drifting up the stairs to his nostrils. Setting down a book he had borrowed from the shelf in the room, he got off the bed and opened the door to head downstairs. He stood in the candlelit dining area, enjoying the scent.
"It'll be right out," came Christine's voice from the kitchen. He sat down, waiting for his host. Momentarily, she emerged with a plate for Rafe, full of meat and vegetables. As she set it down in front of him, he realized it had been awhile since he'd had a good meal. He hadn't had a chance to get to London lately, where most of the best cuisine was found. But this would rival any bistro in the city.
"I hope you like lamb," she said, returning into the kitchen and bringing back a plate for herself, sitting down across from him.
"I haven't had it in a bit," he replied, trying a forkful, and finding it absolutely delicious. Moist and flavorful, almost falling apart in his muzzle. "It's fantastic."
She smiled. "Glad you enjoy it. It's nice to have someone to cook for again."
Rafe nothing in reply, continuing to eat. Christine found her taciturn guest refreshing. Most males that came through were on their way somewhere else, and didn't have the best of manners.
"What do you know about the manor up in the mountains?" asked Rafe suddenly.
Christine did not immediately reply. "Hardly anyone goes up there. There's a rumor that it's haunted. Sometimes, when my husband was out hunting late at night, he said he saw lights in the windows, and heard noises coming from there. But he never went close enough to really see what was going on."
"Was he out the night he died?" asked Rafe.
The lynx set her fork down, looking down at her plate. "Not hunting. We had a fight that night, and he left for a few hours. I thought he would come back, but when the sunrise came, and he wasn't back, I and a few others went looking for him. We found him in the same place as the others; the base of the foothills, all his clothes missing."
Rafe nodded. "I think whatever is causing all of this is out in that manor. It's the only place near enough the town where someone could hide out, and sneak down into town and be back out during the night."
"Do you really think it could be a vampire?" asked Christine, quietly.
"Yes," replied Rafe. "There have been numerous documented cases of furs drinking blood as a fetish, but...there are also cases where the answer has not been of someone carrying out the act as a fetish, but as a way to sustain their life. And I believe this will be one of those cases."
The female lynx was quiet for a moment. "Why do you do this? Why dedicate your life to all this darkness?"
Rafe didn't respond for a moment, taking another bite of his meal. "I was to be married once," he started, setting his fork down. "A beautiful wolfess. We were engaged at her parents' manor in the country. We left to go back to the city, and left after dark. On he way, our carriage was attacked by a pack of vampires. A rarity, but it happens. They took my wife, and left me for dead." Christine didn't say anything, listening as Rafe went on. "For whatever reason, vampires like virgins. My fiancee and I had agreed to wait until our wedding night to consummate, and they could tell she was untouched. I managed to get away, how I don't really know. But she was killed, right there, her screams just echoing away from me."
"I'm so sorry," whispered Christine. "It seems we've both lost the one we love."
Rafe was silent for a moment, before murmuring, "It was another lifetime ago."
"What will you do?" asked Christine.
"Go to the manor during the day tomorrow," explained Rafe. "With luck, it will be immobile during the day."
" 'It?' " asked Christine.
"The vampire," responded Rafe. "Whether he or she, it isn't of this world any longer. If it's asleep, then quickly taking its head will be an end to this."
"Do you want breakfast tomorrow?" she asked.
The wolf shook his head. "It would be best if I started off before dawn. Get there as the sun is coming up, when it will be at its most vulnerable."
"Well," she started, standing up. "our meal wouldn't be complete without apple pie then, now would it?"
Rafe just nodded his consent, waiting as she disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve it. He had done this dozens of times now, but somehow this one felt...different. The wolf shook it off, ignoring his misgivings. Waiting for the dessert, he knew everything would go smooth as always.
PART TWO
"The vampyr will lure unsuspecting females, and occasionally males if they are desperate, to them with seduction and trances. Gazing at a vampyr for too long will allow them to cast their dark deception over the innocent, and render them helpless, sometimes even willing, to the creature's actions and desires. So few have survived a vampyr's advance that details are not always clear. No one still knows why the vampyr prefers females to males, or virgins over all. Much of the intimate details of the night walkers are a mystery."
\'The Vampyr: Myth and Monster,' by Constance Sterling, 1841
It was still nearly dark outside, the sun just barely touching the horizon. Rafe pulled his jacket on over his clothes, double-checking his revolver and extra ammunition. Sighing, he opened the door and silently crept down the stairs. Like a phantom, he made no noise in the still-shadowy inn. But when he got to the bottom of the staircase, he was aware he was being watched.
"I thought you would at least like to take some almonds with you," said Christine, holding out a folded-up kerchief. It smelled delectable, and Rafe surmised she had gotten up earlier than he to bake them. "My husband always took them on long trips. Said they were the perfect thing."
Gently, he took them with a nod. "Thank you." With that, he moved to the door, making to exit.
"When will you be back?" asked the lynx.
Rafe could feel her eyes on him, waiting for an answer. "When it's done."
"What if you don't return?" she submitted, quietly, just above a whisper.
"I will," he answered, without hesitation. Before she could speak again, the wolf opened the door and disappeared like the shadow he resembled. Christine was left only with the crisp scent of the Autumn morning that the stranger had let in.
Outside, mist drifted across the main street in gentle curls. His boots crunched over dead leaves, and the light from the oil lamps was retreating as they ran out. As Rafe left the town behind, the sun was climbing higher over the hills in front of him. As far as he was concerned, the higher the sun, the better. No one knew why, but true vampires were weak to sunlight. It was an easy way to discern the actual creatures from fetishists.
As he entered the foothills, and went past Mr. Dankins shack, the mist was slowly evaporating as the heat increased, ever so slightly. It was going to be a true Autumn day, he could feel it already. Not that cold bothered him. His coat was usually more of a formality than necessity. The sunrise was a beautiful contrast to the work in front of him.
Reaching the stream, he walked across a few rocks just at the top of the waterline, which looked like the remains of a primitive dam, before the stream had expanded and risen higher. For the moment, it made a decent rudimentary bridge. On the other side, he was in another copse of trees, with a footpath cut through them. It went up higher into the mountainside, gently curving away from Rafe. Hiking up the dirt path, he noticed something odd; not one bird was singing in the morning. The forest was preternaturally. silent, almost as if it were waiting for something. Rafe did not feel fear anymore, but it was still disquieting to him.
Sunlight filtered down through the trees now, dappling the forest floor with shadows from the trees. The sound of the creek was retreating behind him now, just a faint babble in the distance. A gentle wind blew under the leaves, the fronds on the trees scraping against one another. The vibrant yellows and fire reds still clung to the branches, desperate to not be cast to the ground in the advent of winter.
As the footpath started into the more rocky portion of the mountain, Rafe could see a precipice overlooking where the village was. From the base of the hill, it was obscured by trees and foliage, but now he could see it fully. On the ledge of rock was the manor the mayor spoke of. Surrounded on sides by large boulders, and approximately one hundred yards back from the sheer edge of the precipice, Rafe wondered why anyone would build a dwelling in such a place. He also observed that, despite the mayor's assertions, someone was definitely in there; lazy wisps of smoke curled from one of the chimneys of the mansion.
Approaching the manor, he was impressed by the size. Three stories towered over him, and was also very wide. It was the sort of place that spoke of a nobleman. Stained-glass windows looked out from the front, depicting various battle scenes, a forest, and a moonlit lake. Many of the panes were missing, but it was intact enough to let Rafe be able to tell that, in its inception, it was a grand facade. But now, where grass was growing had become overgrown, and vines choked the walls. An old fountain, in the shape of a fish spewing water from its mouth, was covered in an age's worth of dirt and grime. Judging by the wear on the woodwork of the manor, the place itself was very old.
Standing before the front door, which had a large bronze door knocker in the shape of a lion's head, Rafe couldn't help but feel that he was being watched. He looked all about himself, but couldn't see anyone, nor shake the feeling. A tingle went up his spine; a feeling he was not intimate with at all. Reaching under his coat, he took his revolver from its resting place, and then gently pressed the door open.
Light spilled across a grand marble floored lobby. A staircase lead up from the lobby to a wooden balcony that disappeared to either side. Doors lined either side of the lobby, leading to places unknown. Cobwebs hung from a golden chandelier suspended over the floor. At a time, the marble had probably been so polished it would have reflected the chandelier like a mirror. But now, there was only more dust.
Closing the door behind himself, Rafe listened carefully. His ears were often the greatest way to track his quarry. But now, he heard nothing. All that greeted him was total silence. He stepped across the hall, streams of sunlight coming through the empty panes of glass catching lazy dust motes that Rafe was kicking up. Mounting the staircase, the wolf stealthily made his way upstairs, making hardly a sound. The marble didn't creak like a wooden staircase, making his attempts at silence much easier. At the top, it turned to wood, which made a slight creaking noise beneath his paws. To the right , the hallway ended at a door. On the left, the walkway ended in a right angle to the right which went out of sight. Regarding the door for a moment, he turned to the left, following the hall. Here, his boots thudded lightly, a carpet masking most of his sound. Rafe couldn't tell what color the carpet once was; red, maybe.
Around the corner, there were two more doors; one right near him, and another farther down. Beyond that, the hallway turned to the left this time. Having not picked up another clue where the creature may be, he opened the nearest door.
Inside was an office-like space; large cherry wood desk, papers spread over the top of it, an empty oil lamp, reference books ranging on everything from anatomy to zoology in a glass case, and mounted insects and flowers in display cases mounted on the wall. Unlike the rest of what Rafe had seen, the office looked like it had been tended somewhat recently; there was a much smaller film of dust over everything.
Closing the door, he continued along to the next door. As his hand touched the door, he realized he was hearing music. The gentle hum a violin greeted his ears from just beyond the door. He paused for a moment, reaching up with his thumb and cocking the hammer of his revolver. As he did, the music stopped. Slowly, he opened the door, greeted with gentle candlelight. The door opened onto a balcony that around the upper part of the room, which extended over both floors. The room itself was a giant library; floor to ceiling books, with a couple chairs, a glockenspiel, and fireplace down below. A fire currently burned in the pit.
Moving around the upper level, he came to a metal staircase, circular in design, that led down to the sitting area. Mounting the stairs, Rafe made his way downstairs, his paws banging on the metal rather loudly.
When he reached the lower floor, the first thing that struck him was the lack of windows. All the light was coming from torches on the wall, and a couple oil lamps. This room was also spotless; the glockenspiel had been polished, the bookshelves were polished, the carpeting beneath him looked brand new. This room was clearly cared for.
On top of the piano was a violin, presumably the one he was hearing before he came into the room. Looking around a bit more, his eyes lay across a coat of arms above the fireplace, with two swords crossed behind it. The design on the shield itself was of a lion, in what appeared to be mid-roar. More books adorned the sides of the room, but he didn't see a way out. Whoever was in here, it was as if they just disappeared. He tried to get a scent on the direction of where they went, but it was to no avail.
Turning, he was ready to go back upstairs when he came face to face with a pair of intense blue yes. Reflexively, Rafe jumped back as far as he could, and raised his revolver. "Hold it right there," he commanded.
The stranger, a younger white wolf, said and did nothing in return, just watching. "Buongiorno. I haven't had a visitor in some time," said the white wolf, with a deep voice, infused with a gentle Italian accent.
"Who are you?" demanded Rafe, still keeping the revolver raised.
"Mi spiace! I am Angelo Leone, this is my manor," replied the white wolf, seeming nonplussed by the weapon held on him. "I apologize for the mess, I have been trying to clean for years, but it's such a big place, and there is only mysel | null | [] | {
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"f.\"\n\nRafe frowned. \"The mayor told me this place was deserted.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid he is mistaken(...TRUNCATED) | null | [] | {"has_passive_voice":true,"max_nested_clauses":6,"longest_sentence":49,"num_participle_phrases":4,"n(...TRUNCATED) | 94 | false |
"\"Any recommendations?\" Zin says, folding her arms and surveying the harem of the Eldest. They cam(...TRUNCATED) | Maxie Reckless and the Kith #03 | ["gangbang","fae","punk","anal","titfuck","double anal","double oral","frottage","futanari","dickgir(...TRUNCATED) | {"has_passive_voice":true,"max_nested_clauses":10,"longest_sentence":66,"num_participle_phrases":4,"(...TRUNCATED) | 118 | false |
"A Little Wiggle Jenna sneezed. A few dark glances turned her way from the other women in the office(...TRUNCATED) | null | [] | {"has_passive_voice":true,"max_nested_clauses":4,"longest_sentence":51,"num_participle_phrases":2,"n(...TRUNCATED) | 14 | false |
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