Suddenly, the beast stopped dead in his tracks. André did as well. Somewhere, in the distance, a mourning dove cried.
The beast let out a long, low growl.
“What is it?” Beauty whispered.
A twig cracked.
Something was coming.
At first she could hardly make out the shape of it, coming towards them, blending in so well with the branches and the trees, mottled gray and brown. But as it drew close, she saw it for what it was.
Like the beast, there was something slightly human about it – the way it carried itself, or the fierce intelligence in its eyes. But more than anything else, it was a wolf. A giant, growling wolf, drawing ever closer.
“Wulfric,” the beast snarled, softly.
“Prince Harland,” said the wolf, his eyes roving over the pair of them. “What have we here, hmm? Who is this little bit? I had judged the time to break your curse would have passed by now.”
“She broke it,” said the beast, jerking his head towards Beauty, but never taking his eyes off the wolf. “But the witch found me again.”
“Twice cursed, eh?” Wulfric chuckled throatily. “You poor unfortunate soul.”
“I would greatly appreciate it,” said the beast, in a measured voice, “if you would allow us to pass through the forest so that we may reach the witch’s lair and strike a bargain with her to make me human again.”
“Oh,” said the wolf. “Would you, now?”
The beast growled.
“Come now.” The wolf took a step closer. The fur on the beast’s spine bristled. “You are well aware of my hold over these woods and their many inhabitants. If you hurt me, you will never escape with your life.”
“I am well aware,” said the beast. “Please.” He glanced at Beauty, then back to the wolf. “She is with child.”
“So I deduce.” The wolf yawned. “What are you prepared to offer me, Harland?”
The beast was silent.
“What?” Wulfric laughed. “You’ve come all this way, to pass through my forest, without so much as a small creature for me to eat? No gold? Perhaps you intended to bring me a virgin, but you seem to have spoilt her along the way.” He turned his yellow eyes on Beauty, looking her up and down, hungrily.
Beauty felt a stirring deep inside. It had been too long since anyone had looked at her that way, and since the beast had given her a taste, it would be foolish to pretend he hadn’t left her hungry for more. Perhaps, this way, both she and the wolf could have what they wanted.
Beauty dismounted, throwing off her cloak to reveal the dress underneath. Now that her stomach was slightly distended it clung to her more closely than it ever had, and she could tell that Wulfric liked the look of it as she drew close to him.
“Perhaps I can offer you something,” she said softly.
“What are you doing?” the beast growled from behind her.
“I am securing our safe passage,” said Beauty, quietly. “Which, apparently, you did not have the foresight to do.”
She walked up to the wolf, standing straight-backed in front of him. He wasn’t on all fours, exactly, but he was hunched over as if his body couldn’t quite make up his mind. If he drew himself up to full height, he would have been twice Beauty’s height. But as it was, he was close enough to see her clearly, to lean forward and sniff her.
“She’s ripe, this one,” he said, softly. “Harland, have you not been tending to your bride?”
“He is respectful,” said Beauty. “Not like you, I should imagine.”
The wolf laughed. “No, my little beauty. I have been accused of many a crime, but respectfulness certainly is not one of them.” He looked over her shoulder, at the beast. “What of it, Harland? Shall I take her up on her offer? She seems awfully…anxious.”
“Come,” the beast snarled at Beauty. “We’re going home.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” the wolf laid one huge paw on Beauty’s shoulder, making her shiver. “I simply cannot have that. There will be no passing through these woods for you, in any direction, until this little firebrand makes good on her offer.”
The beast’s every breath came out in a growl.
“For my part,” said the wolf, as Beauty reached up and began unbuttoning her dress with shaky hands, “I never understood your obsession with the human form. It’s pretty enough, certainly – I’ll grant you that – but to live in? Ugh. I don’t miss it. Not one bit.” His eyes raked Beauty’s naked form as she slipped the dress off her shoulders and let it fall.
“So lovely,” he said, quietly. “What was it, my dear, that compelled you to give over your virtue to a monster?”
“He’s not a monster,” said Beauty. “He’s a man.”
“I, on the other hand…” Wulfric stood up straighter, and Beauty’s eyes drifted down to his groin. He was hard and growing harder, a long, stiff shaft rising up to greet her. “…as you are about to learn, my dear, I am all beast.”
And with that, he walked around behind her, grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked her head back so that her throat was exposed. She whimpered, but something tingled between her legs.
“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So eager. Would you ever guess that I used to be a human, just like you? There was a time when I thought this body was a curse, when I feared the full moon. Now I don’t see any purpose in ever changing back. But your prince, he is not like me. He would rather watch you debase yourself for me than face life as a beast.”
“You’ve given me no choice,” said Beauty, her voice hard. “We won’t die here.”
“That’s a good girl,” said the wolf. “Very principled, in your own way.”
“I do not need your approval,” said Beauty. “Nor do I desire it.”
“That’s fine, then.” The wolf let go of her hair. “Get on your hands and knees, whore.”
The word ought to have enraged her – it was certainly meant to. But instead, Beauty felt a painful throb between her legs. Yes, she was a whore. And it was her choice to be so. She was a whore to save herself, her family, and that was exactly what she wanted to be just now. She was not a delicate flower or a china doll, to be placed gently on a shelf and kept there. She was a whore. She was wild. She wanted the wolf.
She threw herself onto the ground and presented to him, wet and quivering, the scent of her arousal thick in the air.
He was on her in a second, his massive rod thrust deep inside her needy channel without preamble. She shrieked, clawing at the forest floor. He was larger even than the beast – who stood watching, quivering – with anger, Beauty supposed, but even her lust-clouded eye were not blind to the stiffening of his member as he watched them.
He might no longer wish to be the one defiling her, but he still wanted to see her defiled.
Triumphant, Beauty threw back her head and moaned aloud, letting the sensations from the wolf’s massive manhood tear through her and shake her to the core. It had been so long since she’d felt like this. Every thrust was so deep it felt endless.
The wolf’s thrusts were getting even harder now, faster with every second. Beauty could feel her climax twisting inside of her, winding ever higher, threatening to explode at any second. Her own wetness was spilling out of her, running down the insides of her thighs. Her inner muscles squeezed as tightly as they could around his huge girth.
Suddenly, she felt him begin to swell inside of her. He kept on thrusting until he couldn’t, held tight inside of her by his own member. Beauty whimpered, feeling stretched beyond her limit. He felt like a fist inside of her.
“Shhh,” the wolf said, nuzzling the back of her neck. Gentling her.
Then, he threw back his head and howled.
She distinctly felt each long, hot pulse of his seed shooting into her, his swollen flesh holding it all inside, so it had nowhere to go but deeper inside of her. Somehow, it was this feeling that pushed her over the edge, screaming her ecstasy into the canopy of leaves.
Beauty was barely able to hold herself u
p anymore, but the wolf’s hardness did not flag in the least as she sagged beneath him. Finally, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto her side, still inside of her, lying behind her in an obscene embrace.
“It will pass,” he whispered. “It just takes time.”
It felt like an eternity – lying there in Wulfric’s arms, waiting for her freedom.
“Is it always like this?” she wanted to know.
“Yes,” he said. “To make sure my seed is planted deep. A bit useless at the moment, I will grant you that.”
Beauty had to smile.
She ached when he was finally able to pull out of her. Standing on shaky legs, she went back to André and climbed into the saddle. Wulfric’s seed was sticky on her thighs.
“Very well,” said the wolf. “You may pass, although I still believe you are on a fool’s errand.”
As they made their way onward, the trees began to grow sparser. Beauty thought she could see a meadow just beyond, and then the beginnings of the mountain they must cross.
“You know him?” she asked, finally, hardly expecting a response.
The beast made a soft noise. “From years and years ago,” he said. “I knew him first when he was a man. I would have thought he’d have forgotten me after all this time.”
“He won’t ever forget you now,” said Beauty, smiling into the distance.
She expected him to be at least a little angry, but he never even so much as raised his voice to her. At times she felt him looking at her, but when she turned to meet his gaze he looked away. It was as if he’d perhaps seen a side of her that he didn’t realize existed, although he was the first one to awaken it.
As they reached the foothills of the mountains, Beauty could just begin to make out the small crevasse that was to be their passage through. She felt a chill run down her spine at the sight, for reasons she could not imagine.
The shadows were beginning to grow longer. Beauty held her breath as André first set foot in the pass, her heart beating faster and faster as the walls came together, the path growing narrower and narrower. Soon she could no longer tell if the sun was sinking fast, or if the walls were meeting far above their heads and blocking out all of its light. She lit her lantern with shaking hands, urging André forward, clicking her tongue soothingly at him, despite her misgivings.
The beast was silent, watchful, his head snapping to stare in the direction of every slight noise.
There was a damp smell in the air. André came to an abrupt halt, hooves scraping on the ground. The beast had stopped too. His nostrils flared.
Then, Beauty heard it.
Very faintly, off in the distance, there was a strange, faintly metallic noise. Almost like a chain being dragged across a stone floor. Beauty looked down, lowering her lantern a little. Indeed, the floor beneath them appeared to have turned from hard earth to wet stone – this wasn’t a pass, so much as it was a cave.
The noise became more distinct. Chains. Chains, being dragged and dragged across the cave floor, growing ever closer to them. Next came the noise of huge, shuffling feet of whatever was carrying them.
Then, the breathing.
It was close, whatever it was. Beauty’s blood ran cold. She had a feeling that, whatever this creature was, there would be reasoning with it, no bargains she could strike. Not like the wolf.
Slowly, a huge, hulking shape came into view.
It was tall and grey, slightly hunched at the neck, with long, lank hair hanging down either side of its scowling face. In its right hand, a club was hanging. In its left, there was fold after fold of a long rusty chain, trailing behind it, so far that Beauty could not see the end.
“Does it speak?” Beauty whispered.
The beast was crouched, ready to pounce. “I never tried.”
The troll was huge – twice the beast’s size, at least, and armed too. Beauty’s eyes drifted to the scrap the fabric that was slung around its waist, acting as a loincloth. Perhaps speaking wasn’t necessary after all.
As it came within a few feet of them, Beauty stepped forward, facing the troll with her head held high.
He was confused by this, to be sure – his nose twitching, staring down at her, unsure what to make of being challenged by such a small, delicate creature. If only he knew.
Beauty smiled, a strange sense of calm descending over her as she began, once again, to unbutton her dress. The troll was frozen, his clubbing arm drawn slightly back, as if he’d been preparing himself to strike until he saw her.
As the dress fell to the cave floor, the troll’s eyes widened. He grunted, leaning down towards her, struggling to process what he was seeing. Beauty wondered if there were women of his kind. If he’d ever had a mate. Would he even understand what she was offering to him?
All the hostility had melted from his expression. He was looking at her in wonderment. Beauty spread her legs slightly, giving him a peek at the pink flesh there, nestled under fire-red curls. He reached out with his chain arm, letting the cold metal drag across her body, draping over her shoulder and curling up and over, sliding down her chest. Her nipples stiffened into hard peaks. Beauty closed her eyes and shivered.
He dropped the club with a loud thunk, then reached up and looped the chain around her neck. The beast growled softly.
Beauty held perfectly still. It wasn’t tight enough to hurt – not yet. Her womanhood, which she knew ought to have been spent and aching from the wolf, was aching now in a different way. Seeing the power that she had over these creatures, how simple it was to bend them to her will, was more intoxicating than any wine. She needed to feel him lose himself in her, forgetting everything, forgetting his violent ways and his instinctive need to guard this cave against all intruders, knowing only the heat and softness of her body.
The troll grunted, letting go of the chain. It hung freely on her body now, like some kind of strange adornment. Beauty smiled at him and stroked the cold metal.
“Thank you,” she said, softly. “It’s lovely.”
He stood there for a moment, looking confused, his hardness jutting out from under his loincloth. He reached down and grabbed himself with his hand, stroking up and down roughly. He had utterly no idea what to do with her. Beauty spread her legs further, using her two fingers to separate her nether lips, like she did when she was alone in bed, thinking of the beast. The troll tilted his head, watching her.
Beauty bit her lip, wondering how on earth she could convey the idea of proper mating to him. Her eyes drifted to his club, lying on the ground.
The wide end was far too large to fit inside of her, even after coupling with the wolf, but the other was smaller and looked smooth enough at the end. Beauty picked it up, lowering herself to the ground, sitting down carefully on her fallen dress. The cold seeped through the thin fabric almost immediately, and she shivered as she spread her legs, acutely aware of the penetrating stares of both the troll and her beast.
The end of the club felt strange, pressing against her. It was so unlike living flesh, cold and hard and unyielding. She exhaled and pressed harder, feeling herself loosen and spread open, accepting it. She couldn’t hold back a moan as the club filled her completely.
The beast was breathing heavily now. She met his eyes; there was no disapproval there, but his expression was otherwise unreadable. His member, on the other hand, was long and stiff, curving slightly upwards, making his true feelings about her performance very clear.
Beauty began slowly moving the club in and out, mimicking the thrusting motions she was hoping to inspire in the troll. He watched her with rapt attention, stroking himself faster, but he made no move towards her or any indication that he understood what she was trying to communicate to him.
Beauty looked at the beast.
“Come here,” she said.
He hesitated, staring at her.
“Please,” she said.
The beast drew close, looking as confused and hesitant as the troll did. Beauty pulled the club out of h
er with a wet sound, and set it aside.
“Show him,” she said to the beast.
And he was on her in a second, deep inside her in a single thrust, making her cry out. All of the anger and frustrating at his predicament, at her behavior, at his self-imposed abstinence, punctuated every thrust.
Overwhelmed by the sensation, by the knowledge that she was finally getting what she’d been wanting all this time, Beauty moaned aloud with every breath. She was coming almost before she realized what was happening, a gush of wetness coming out of where they were joined.
The beast finished with a roar soon afterwards. She could feel him twitching and pulsating inside of her, all of his pent up desire releasing itself in massive bursts of his seed.
Beauty looked at the troll. He was dumbfounded, staring at the two of them like he had never seen anything of the sort in his life – and it was very likely that he hadn’t.
The beast stepped away.
The troll advanced slowly, gripping his massive rod, staring at the juncture between Beauty’s thighs as if it was the most complex mystery he had ever encountered. He dropped heavily to his knees between her spread legs, leaning down until his swollen cockhead was pressed directly against her opening. Beauty moaned encouragingly, nudging her hips forward. He slid inside of her with agonizing slowness, the girth of him stretching her even further than the wolf’s knot had. Beauty would not have believed it was fitting inside her so easily, if the proof were not laid out before her very eyes. The look on his face was amazing to behold: the moment the sensations hit him for the first time, the heat and wetness of her, the place he was always meant to be. He was quivering like a newborn calf.
And then, his instincts took control.
He started thrusting into her, hard and deep. He could only fit halfway before he bumped up against her core, but he seemed not to notice or care. Beauty felt her pleasure building, low and slow in her stomach, until her inner muscles clenched around him and she grabbed at the slippery stone floor. She was making wild noises, but was unable to stop herself, her own voice echoing back to her in the cave as the troll stilled inside of her. Then, in a series of small thrusts, he filled her up all over again with massive bursts of his hot, thick seed. It seemed to go on endlessly, and when he finally pulled away, Beauty whimpered at the feeling.
Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters Page 51
