by E M Beastly
The image was trying to make a powerful statement about indecency and sexuality. However, Nick supposed Rose was more interested in it for other reasons. Her art and habits were about the rawness of lust. It was, after all, what she had influenced his wife with, turning her into a sex craved succubus. Anyway, it made Nick walk around corners more cautiously as he feared he could find much worse than a nude Venus on canvas exposing her private parts.
He traveled further, all the while calling out for Olivia, but only the shadows answered. He wondered if maybe they weren't here and he was wasting his time. First, he would check the backroom where Rose kept her living quarters. If any place, they should both be there. If only he could remember how to navigate this maze to find it.
The place was confusing even when he had a guide. Now, while stumbling around in the dark, he felt that he truly was lost in the surrounding forest. With every twist and turn he was running into wild paintings and sculptures of naked women exposing themselves, or worse, the depictions of half-beast satyrs ready to indulge in their animalistic desires with these same women.
He couldn't believe the number of art pieces that depicted such things, or how Rose's collection of them seemed to have grown since his last visit. He always wondered how she managed to come by, let alone afford, such a collection.
He didn't consider himself an art expert, but the pieces he stumbled upon in the dark seemed exceedingly rare, painted by artists he never heard of. He doubted that there were many who had.
Who could have painted all these scenes that had veered from the erotic to the nigh pornographic? Nick could only imagine that they must be so rare that even art historians didn't know of their existence. If they did, then they must keep it a great secret, for what Rose had in her collection was going beyond the sensually erotic.
"My God!" he exclaimed as he came into another narrow gallery.
On either side of him were six paintings. Combined they made up an orgy of unearthly delights. Satyrs, centaurs, nymphs and bull-headed minotaurs made up the menagerie. They were more than just nude and sensually displaying their masculinity or femininity. Each fully put into the view of the audience the fantastic veins of fat phalluses penetrating sprawled out lovers.
One even had the tenacity to portray a shower of milky cum showering over the voluptuous breasts of a woodland faun. She was just as beastly as her mate. Her legs the hairy hindquarters of a goat and upon her crown were two cute, stubby horns.
The oil paintings were crafted in the classical style of the fifteenth and sixteenth century. The colors were bold and the flesh tones were soft and sensual. The cum, flowing like a fountain, seemed to glow under a palette of carefully brushed strokes.
The contrast was striking. The bright colors lit the characters up so that Nick could see them cleanly even in the gloom. The dark foliage in the background and surrounding each character seemed to blend in with the walls of the manor. It was an interesting illusion, but then again the halls of this manor had always screwed with Nick's mind.
Down another hallway, the creatures became even more grotesque. Nick was feeling uneasy. Something wasn't right. These paintings couldn't possibly be the authentic works of classical painters. He didn't recognize any of the names, nor did he want to. At least the creatures of Greek myth had the semblance of men and women. However, the one painting of the centaur mounting a wild naiad underneath his equine form was cheating a bestial taboo. Nor did it help that the painting was un-biased about showing that centaurs would have horse's cocks underneath their horse-like bodies.
This new hall of lewd pornography was almost taking away all the humanity of sex. The beasts and monsters were only human in shape. Anthropomorphized characters walked and stood like people, but they were not human. The wolves, cats, horses and other things were almost no better than animals just walking on their hind legs.
They did show human expressions, however, in their beastly faces. Eyes and mouths curled in such ways to express happiness, joy and laughter. They, indeed, were having a good time in their orgy of sex, fruit and wine.
So much wild pornography was being displayed, and all the paintings looked as if they could be put together to form one massive mural. A tangled mess of furry bodies, all the animals of the forest pretended to be people and fucking as they would in the bedroom. They did so together, unbiased of species or if they were predator or prey.
A stag mounted a she-wolf; he did not do so as a beast. He did so as a passionate lover. Yet, he was still wild and bucked his mate vigorously with her hind legs wrapped around his waist as he pinned her against a tree.
She possessed beautiful shapely breasts for something that shouldn't sport such human-like anatomy. The stag played with them robustly. The artist did well to portray the actions of his movements with brush and paint. The stag jostled them about excitedly while fucking her.
Nick was surprised by the romance he saw within it. It was still wild and raw. There was a hunger for lust, and the stag was looking to satisfy his earthly urges. Nor could it be denied that there were others waiting for their turn. This she-wolf would be passed around like one of the so many hors d'oeuvres of flesh, fruit and wine. Soon she would be mounted by all the others who did not seem to mind dipping their cocks in sloppy wet warmth filled to overflowing with the cum of all that came before them.
She was only one of many. It seemed that the male member of this she-wolf's pack were busy subduing their own prey. Three shared one body; all fucking her at the same time. Two sandwiched the poor creature between them while the third forced her to feast on his meat.
His bright red cock was portrayed vividly all the way up to its bulging knot. It seemed to pulsate as the feminine form between he and his brothers was being forced to swallow it.
Nick turned away; he didn't want to know anymore. Yet, as he ran from this hall, he only encountered another, each one more fantastic and more grotesque than the last. Nick scolded himself for looking, even if it was only briefly. He couldn't get over that these paintings existed and that there were so many made. Deeper and darker the halls became, and the beasts and monstrosities transformed into horrors.
Shapeless monstrosities of slimy blackness spewed forth fountains of pearly white in contrast. These paintings portrayed only the purest forms of lust now. They were like the morbid creations of H.R. Giger, hauntingly visceral depictions of cocks and vaginas.
They were all very alien as they slithered and wriggled about. The long cocks went every which way as if they were the branches of a tree. Instead of reaching for the sky, they plummeted down into the moist vaginal dens. Everything seemed to groan and moan around Nick. It was as if the phallus of some unseen force was piercing the whole Earth.
It was not god or heaven. Whatever it was is very ancient, perhaps older than the Earth itself. He is a dark and mysterious stranger. He is a passionate lover, as well as a voracious one and thrives to get his dick wet and to cum many times. Yet, he cares not to impregnate. His seed is but a paint he uses to shape his images on his canvas. When he is finally spent, he disappears back from whence he came. He leaves her to return to what is orderly and right. Nevertheless, she is marked. She has tasted the sweet nectar of forbidden lust.
Somehow, Nick sees the story on the walls and begins to understand them. It frightens him. It frightens him more than anything ever could as he realizes he is no match for such a power. It does not love his wife Olivia in the same way that a husband loves his wife; it does not care for such vows or obligations. Nevertheless, it still embraces her with only the desire to make both their bodies fill with pleasure.
And there, at the furthest end of the hall, was Olivia, or at least a painting of her in her likeness. Her naked skin radiant and brought a soft glow to the dusk of the hallway. She was lying in the grass and leaves in a seductive pose reminiscent of other erotic nudes painted lounging about in sheets of satin. Only here there was no satin, only the roots, leaves and natural things twisted and distorted in these hall
s. She was the only thing uncorrupted and pure; his radiant beacon.
As he rushed to her and examined the details made in fresh paint, he saw that dark, mysterious stranger surrounded her. She was a shadow that Olivia laid upon. The grass, roots and leaves were a wicked illusion. They now had shapes and forms, the dark shadow's minions. These impish little creatures swarmed to touch his beloved wife inappropriately.
Some had already succeeded in placing their tiny paws all over her breasts and smooth stomach. Others were beginning to reach lower. However, the great shadow in which Olivia laid upon already had her paws groping down upon his wife's pussy.
Nick knew the shadow represented Rose even if he could not make out her features. The way in which she held his wife from behind was as though she was presenting his wife to the viewer of this painting. The way his wife posed with her legs spread while the shadow's fingers stretched her slit wide made him feel the artist was inviting him to thrust his dick into the painting.
His wife's eyes had the most wonderful look of wanting. However, the seductive glowing eyes that peered from behind his wife's left shoulder is what made him swoon. He almost found himself obeying their command to fall naked upon this image of his wife, fucking her furiously so as to quickly feel the pleasure of his climax filling her up.
The more he stared the more it seemed she was calling out to him. There was no voice; not a sound to be heard. Nevertheless, he could hear his wife calling to him in his mind, 'Fuck me, my husband. Join me in bliss.' It seemed to say.
He knew that if he didn't give in then surely the darkness that surrounded her will. The Giger-esque phalluses only desired the pleasure of flesh. If he did not fulfill his wife's desires, they surely would.
It was his only way to protect her. However, then he would be no better than those ravaging beasts. Yet, it was what his wife wanted and it was what the shadow beckoned him to do.
He could feel his dick grow hard. Natural instincts screamed at him. The impish monstrosities that served the shadow were closing in. They now suckled on his wife's tits, taunting him with wicked grins as their lips enveloped an erect nipple.
"No!" he yelled.
"No, not like this," he wept.
"She is my wife, she is sacred to me," and as he said this with tears trickling down his face. He turned away and ran.
Though it was just a painting, he felt it represented the truth he did not want to find. Olivia had fallen for that mysterious stranger and had chosen lust over love.
* * *
Nick, not knowing how he found his way out of that labyrinth, was now on his way home. Distraught over the loss of his wife, he felt he could never love again. Worse is the shadow of the woman who claimed Olivia for herself. Nightmares were sure to come of what he saw in her den.
He wanted to tell himself what he saw was just a painting and that his nerves got the better of him. Yet, the terrifying truth would not allow the lie. He saw the scene move and distort, paint did not move on canvas. Rose's estate threatened to consume him as it had his wife.
Nick resolved to his fate of this horror story as being the tragic victim to unseen forces. He expected that Olivia would never come back home again, and he had no mind to go back to that horrible museum to find try and find her. What he found there was not his wife.
Interestingly, his night's journey had not been a complete failure after all. Olivia did return and on the very next morning. Nor did she come to him like the ravenous sex fiend he had seen her turn into. She did not attack him, strip him down and demand his body only to pleasure hers. For the first time in well over two months, she seemed to act herself again.
She was waiting for him in the kitchen where she had made coffee. She was sitting by her window as she did before the two of them had met Rose. It was there she liked to watch the birds and read her storybooks. Nick always tried to get up early so he could be with her before he went off to work. He liked to listen to her read her stories. He didn't care what she was reading. He just liked listening to her voice, it helped him get through his day.
Today, he had no plans of going to work or to get up early. The nightmares wouldn't let him sleep. For that reason, he still believed he was dreaming. After all, he never heard his wife enter the house and he had been up since four in the morning trying to occupy his mind with distracting activities.
It made him speechless; he hadn't seen his wife like this for a long time. In the sun's early morning rays, she was radiant. This beautiful calm and intelligent woman was the woman he married.
He didn't want to ruin this moment. He chose just to stare at the true portrait of his wife who was relaxed and provocative as she sipped her coffee and read her copy of the Divine Comedy.
"Well, aren't you going to get your coffee? You'll be late for work you know?" she said casually, not looking up from her book.
It took him a while to respond, "I... I'm not feeling good. Didn't sleep again," he said cautiously.
"Well, you should still have your coffee, honey. Then come and sit with me," she told him with a gorgeous smile.
"You know... I wasn't expecting you home. I went looking for you... at Rose's." he said ignoring her request.
"I know..." she said smiling again while also taking the time to put her book down, "That is why I came back."
There was a long pause between them as they looked at each other. Nick was confused, she could see it in his face.
"But in the museum... You and Rose? No... It was late... but I was certain you and her..."
"That I am cheating on you?" she said finishing his sentence. "I know, you have said before, just not in so many words."
"Yes... I mean, I have never asked you that."
Olivia giggled and replied, "Then what have our arguments been about dear? You've never asked me directly, but it's always been the subject."
Nick scratched his head and turned away. He didn't want to start another argument. He was just happy to see her home this way. He grabbed his coffee and quietly sat down with her hoping to change the subject. He was happy to see her home like this.
"You're a hopeless romantic Nick," she replied as he sat down and took his first sip. Nevertheless, she obliged him.
For the first time in months, they spent a quiet and romantic day together. It was everything that Nick missed. The walks through the garden, snuggling up on the couch, He just wanted to be with her, talk with her, and listen to what she had to say.
That evening they started kissing like they used to. Olivia hadn't lost her touch. The slow and sensual passion she shared with him; the special bonding of a romantic pair. Just as he remembered, she could handle his small romantic advances for hours. He hugged her closely, preferring the warmth and tenderness of her body touching his. They moved slow and sensually as he kissed her passionately. His hands played with the small of her back.
He kissed her cheek and waited for her to kiss him in return.
"You're not going to pounce on me like an animal again?" he had to ask, interrupting her.
"Is that what you want?"
"No, absolutely not. I love you for who you are," he said, regretting what he had said.
"But what if who I am has found changed? Would you still love me if I changed? I love you Nick, and I love how loyal you are to me even if you suspect that I am not loyal back. However, change is inevitable and sometimes drastic. Why won't you change with me?"
"Call me old-fashioned," he replied before kissing her again.
Olivia gently pushed her husband away before he could succeed.
"Nick, I understand that. I love you, I will always love you. It was a mistake of me to try to change you too. I know that now, but I need you to be able to accept me if I change."
"What do you mean?" he asked recoiling. "You're not going to leave me for that woman?"
"No Nick, I'm not cheating on you with Rose. I never have been."
Nick paused and watched as the setting sunlight poured over them. He began to cry.
"Olivia, I don't know what to believe. You're right, you have changed, and when I went to find you last night... I saw things. In truth, I don't know if what I saw was real. I don't know what that woman is, and maybe I'm being delusional; lack of sleep you know."
"Honey, Rose is a witch," Olivia said bluntly.
"Wh...what?" Nick answered back completely off guard.
"You weren't seeing things. What you saw was meant for you to see. I was hoping you would finally come find me. I was hoping you would embrace me, but you are who you are. Now I understand I shouldn't have tried to force you down that path. But can you still love me if I have taken it for myself? I promise we can still be together, and I can love you as I always have."
"What... what do you mean?" he said a bit panicked, watching as the sunlight's final rays came to pass, casting his wife in the shadows of nightfall.
Olivia did not answer.
She didn't have to. Before Nick's eyes, the shadows created by the dying light transformed into the nightmare's from his previous night.
Olivia's shape was all he could see but it wasn't her shape any longer. In her place was one of the very creature's he had seen in oil paint, the she-wolf.
"No! It can't be true!" He said in frantic surprise as he jumped up and away from her.
The thing jumped after him, grabbed him and wrapped its body around him.
"Shush now. I know I scare you, but I am still your wife," she said in a soothing tone.
Her voice was still Olivia's, and her touch felt familiar. Yet, it still was not a human form embracing him. He could feel her fur covered her whole body. He could feel her claws press into his back and her long muzzle nuzzling against his cheek.
"Rose has shown me a different side of myself. I want to share with you because you are my husband and I love you."
Nick's response was to remain frozen with fear within her grasp.
