In Her Arms

by Gayle Keo

  I stood away. I took my can of mace from my purse. I nodded him toward the sink and he drank three more glasses.

  “So,” I said as he breathed deep. “Why is your story me?”

  “I am in your debt.”

  I looked at him somewhat perplexed.

  “I was enslaved,” he said. “That collar. It kept me from my human form, and you freed me. How did you know?”

  “I guessed,” I said “A werewolf wearing a collar is a bit unusual.”

  “So is a woman who believes in and seeks out a werewolf. It makes me wonder about your story.”

  “I’m asking the questions.” I said. “So who enslaved you?”

  “I cannot say.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I cannot say,” he repeated. “I have been sworn.”

  “To whom? To what?”

  “I cannot—“

  “Right,” I said, “I know, you cannot say. Can you at least tell me what you were doing haunting the Arboretum.”

  “I was protecting.”

  “Protecting?” I said. “Protecting who from what?”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” he said, “I was a slave. The collar enslaved me. You broke that. I am in your debt.”

  “Look.” I said.

  “What matters now is that you saved my life, and now I owe you that life until you release me.”

  “Is that some kind of werewolf code or something?”

  “No. It’s my code. I believe in honor. I have been in this world long enough to see how vital that particular virtue truly is. So I am in your debt.”

  I thought about that. My first thought was to release him then and there, trusting his own honor to help me. But I’m just not that kind of girl.

  “Okay then,” I said, “what’s your name?”

  “Donovan.”

  “Okay Donovan, you’re in my debt. But first you could use a bath. We both could actually.”

  I saw his face light up.

  “Not together,” I said.

  *****

  After Donovan had bathed I dug out an old bathrobe that a former friend had left behind. Donovan zonked out on the couch while I luxuriated in a hot bath. Then I found my bed. In the morning I woke to the wonderful aroma of coffee and bacon.

  That was so sweet.

  A good breakfast of bacon and eggs, toast and coffee is a lovely thing. It’s pretty hard to mess up but I had known men who could. This guy wasn’t one of those.

  “I’m beginning to like this indebted thing,” I said as we ate, “but we both know that it’s not going to last. Slavery is not my thing.”

  “I am glad,” he said with a small smile, “but even a brief slavery would not be so bad. You are a very beautiful woman.”

  I blushed a little and I thought a little. He was, if nothing else, fit and he did have such pretty eyes. I might have batted my own a little.

  “Thank you,” I said, “but right now I could use your help.”

  I explained about the children. I turned a little as I spoke and my robe parted just a bit; I’m not above using my body now and then. I asked if he knew anything and I got a stoic look.

  “Right,” I said “It has something to do with your former slave master – but you can’t say.”

  He stayed quiet.

  “Silence is affirmation.” I said. “You know something.”

  He silently ate his eggs, but all the while he had his green eyes on me.

  “What would a werewolf want with--,”

  But he shook his head and bit his toast.

  “Okay,” I said, “so what would a werewolf’s slave master want with children?”

  “Not children,” he said, “a child.”

  “A special child,” I said, “something in its blood. Of course. Curiouser and curiouser.”

  He gathered the plates and began doing the dishes.

  If there was one thing that I had learned in my life it was that a man who would do the dishes on his own was worth something. I sipped my coffee as he made my kitchen sparkle. He was rare and he was mine.

  “Tell me something,” I asked, “how was it that you were enslaved?”

  “I was seduced,” he said.

  “Seduced by who?”

  “By whom,” he corrected.

  “So,” I laughed, “by whom?”

  “A woman.”

  “Well that’s reassuring,” I said.

  He turned and looked at me. I saw in his eyes such desperation and yet such hope. I knew that he had so much that he wanted to say and I also knew that he had so much that he couldn’t say. I also saw that his green eyes were drinking me in. That was when I knew that I had him. I smiled.

  “Okay,” I said, “first thing is that we need to get you some clothes.”

  I called my secretary, Brandy. Brandy’s a good friend. She understands my work as a reporter and she’s bailed me out a jail a few times and pulled me from some other scrapes. But this one was new. I asked her to drop everything and go shopping.

  “Say what?” she said.

  “Sweetie, it’s part of the story. Please.”

  “You see today’s copy edit?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Then I suggest that you do so.”

  “Brandy—“

  “Now.”

  I went to my computer and logged onto the paper’s edit. The composition board had a pic of me next to my man all naked in the woods. Fortunately, it was censored. The headline was cute:

  Exposé Exposer Exposed!

  “You bastards,” I breathed.

  “Hey, I’m just a flunky,” she chuckled, “so what gives? Is that really you?”

  “Long story,” I said, “just do this for me.”

  “I’m getting lunch for this one,” she said, “and I’m going to the Goodwill.”

  I shut my phone and then checked messages. It was packed with things from the paper’s night shift saying “whassup?” and “that u” and “any comments?” and the like.

  I went to find Donovan.

  “I gotta go to work,” I said. “You be here when I get back?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “Cool.”

  When I got to the office I figured that Nick would be there waiting to dress me down. But the man was sly to the point of nasty. Right there in the entrance to the editorial room hung a huge glossy of the pic – without the censor stripes. I got whistles and cat-calls and applauds as I stared at it.

  Then Nick yelled for me.

  “What the hell?” I demanded as I stormed into his office.

  “It’s news baby,” he chuckled, “any comments for the record?”

  “You slimy bastard.”

  “I believe that has already been established.”

  “You’re going to go with that?”

  “Look,” he said, “this is big. I got the police statements and I got—“

  “That’s me!” I cried. “Are you going to destroy me like this for some quick sales?”

  “It’s not destroying you” he said. “Eileen, with the other pics I got we’re gonna make you a celebrity. This is our Bat-Boy.”

  “What other pics?”

  He tossed three sheets on his desk and my heart stopped a moment. They were grainy and it was obvious that the photographer didn’t know how to use a camera at night, but they were clear enough- two animal-like creatures wrestling, one with its neck deep on the other’s.

  “Where’d you get these?” I asked.

  “Same high school kids,” he said.

  “Kill ‘em,” I said. “They’re fake. I was there. I didn’t see any animals in combat.”

  “Look,” he laughed, “we can take these pics and bleed them out for weeks. It’s a friggin’ gold-mine. And with you as a witness—“

  “Nick no,” I said, “this is just some stupid stunt. It’ll turn out that Frat Boys did it. And when that comes out—“

  “The Frat boys set you up with that guy?”

&nbs
p; “That’s – that’s personal. The real story is—“

  “I know,” he said flopping into his chair, “the real story is your disappearing kids. But there ain’t no story there. Disgruntled father snags ‘em and get’s ‘em back before the Feds enter the scene. Eileen, without a werewolf your story is just a milk carton.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Okay,” he said, “what do you got?”

  “I got a live werewolf sleeping on my couch.”

  He shook his head.

  “Nick,” I said. “I found out that there is someone out there looking for the just-right kid.”

  “And when that someone finds the kid?”

  I looked at his smug face. I wanted to grab his ears and yell that there would be one less child. I wanted – but I didn’t.

  “Kill the damned pics,” I said, “for now. I got a lead.”

  “What lead?”

  “A werewolf on my couch.”

  He sighed. He leaned back in his chair and took up the photos.

  “I got the rights,” he said, “for forty-eight hours. In forty-nine hours the kids can plaster these on Facebook or sell to the Globe. I do not like being upstaged.”

  “Trust me on this,” I said, “please.”

  “You got twenty-four hours. Then I start the presses.”

  *****

  I left the office and drove to the Arboretum. I wanted to check out the place in sunlight. I had to see if I could figure out what had lured Donovan there or what he was protecting. I walked the Mound Trail for a while, not sure what I was looking for. I doubt if I could track an elephant through, let alone a wolf. I guess that I was just trying to get a sense, a feeling or something.

  And I did get a sense and a feeling and it was not good. The deeper I walked through the sparse pines the more it felt that something was off. Something just wasn’t right. If there were any signs of a child being held there those signs escaped me. Still I had a weird feeling.

  I saw an elderly woman on the trail and so I stopped to chat. She was a birder and she was frustrated.

  “I come here every spring,” she said, “looking for the Northern Waterthrush. They pause here by the lake on their way to Canada but I’ve seen neither beak nor feather.”

  “Maybe they took a different route,” I said.

  “Well that’s just it,” she said, “they’re all over the other lakes. Just not here. There are no birds here.”

  She was right. I heard no chirping, no singing, not even a flutter of a wing. There were also no squirrels or raccoons or anything else in the woods. There was something unnatural in the air, and if anyone would know what was up Donovan would. I took Arboretum Drive to town and I got that weird feeling all the way to the beltline.

  When I got home he was cleaning. The living-room had been vacuumed, the shelves dusted and he was washing the windows.

  “Wolf-man,” I laughed, “is your alter-ego a maid?”

  “No,” he said chuckling, “it’s hard for me to just sit still. Thank you for the clothes. Your friend Brandy was, um, curious.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I – I just thanked her. We didn’t chat”

  “Cool,” I said.

  “So,” he said shutting the window, “you are Eileen Morgan. I saw your mail. Sound’s Irish.”

  “County Kerry. You?”

  “County Cork,” he said, “neighbors.”

  “Then let’s be neighborly,” I said with a grin.

  I grabbed him by his tee-short and dragged him to the couch, slamming him down. I hated what I was going to do but I did it anyway. I had to know what he knew and that was going to take something.

  I tore off my jacket and pulled away my camisole. I stood before him in a pretty, lacy baby-blue demi-cup. He gaped at me.

  “How long,” I asked, “how long were you stuck as an animal?”

  “Since winter,” he said, his eyes darting from mine to my breasts.

  “That’s a long time without a woman.”

  “Eileen . . .” he gasped.

  “Chat later,” I smiled

  Then he cried in delight as I fell to my knees before him. I had him out and in my mouth. He was already swelling and as I went down on him he grew into a rock. I was sucking him hard and fast. He groaned. He meshed his fingers in my hair and began thrusting with me. He was oozing in no time. I toyed with his balls with my fingers as I swirled my tongue around his throbbing knob. He was gasping and I could feel him tense.

  “Ohhh Gyyyyyyaaaaaaaaa!” he cried as I dove on him.

  Being a shape-shifter has its advantages in some situations. I split my tongue so that it forked and the little viper muscles wrapped him as I sucked that rod for all it was worth. I got chills hearing him cry and groan. He was pulsing and so ready. I stroked the base of his huge cock with my hand while I concentrated on his knob with my mouth. He was throbbing. And then he wailed and exploded in my mouth. Burst after burst of the warm spunk splashed down my throat and I sucked and drank and swallowed and sucked some more until I sucked him dry. He seemed to collapse.

  “Oh no you don’t,” I sneered.

  I ripped off my skirt and panties and straddled him right there on the sofa impaling myself on his slimy tool. I love that position. I feel so full and so in command. And command I did. He had the stamina. He started doing me back. He had that silly smile that men so often get. He reached up and slid down the straps of my bra. He began to fondle and toy with my breasts.

  He started with that delicate thing, licking and nibbling. There was no way I was going to take that. I rammed myself down on him hard, grabbed his hands and mashed them into my tits.

  “Now you listen up,” I said, “you’re in me now and I ain’t no little pretty China-doll. You know what I am and you know what I want. I’m betting that you know how to fuck. So fuck me, wolf-man!”

  He laughed out-loud and he did. He mauled me like an animal and he started to ram me hard. I squealed my delight and rammed right back. And then he really got into it.

  I gasped and gazed at him. He twisted my nipples and I cried out in delight. He pulled me to him by my tits and kissed me hard and deep, all the while pounding me.

  “You like that?” he grinned, “you like it hard? You like it rough?”

  “Yessss,” I hissed, “ohhh yessssss!”

  “I’ll show you rough.”

  He pulled me off. I leered at him. He threw me to the floor and ordered me onto my hands and knees. I obeyed. Then he got behind me and shoved that slimy cock into my pussy so hard and fast and deep that I wailed out loud. His pelvis slammed my ass and my arms buckled. He grasped my thighs and rammed me. I wailed and clutched the rug. I was so alive and throbbing inside and I was sure he could feel me swell. I wallowed in it as he did me hard and called me the filthiest names.

  He pulled out, flipped me over and nailed me. He mauled my breasts as we went at it like animals. I had my legs wrapped around his thighs and was clutching his ass, pulling him deeper and deeper into me.

  It was a new kind of bliss as we wrestled and thrashed like two creatures wallowing in raw, filthy driving sex and when I came I clutched my near maniac lover and drove myself deep and fast and the waves of bliss were mountainous.

  *****

  He was still in me. He was still hard and the slime soaked the air with a wonderful aroma. He was kissing me tenderly and licking my sweat. He was treating me like a lover, so I hated myself for what I was doing. But, then, I have hated myself before.

  I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. His hairy chest mashed against my breasts and that was so – so...I kissed him as a lover and I wiggled my thighs. He was still alive inside of me and it was so squishy and sloppy in there. I giggled. He breathed long and hard gazing at me.

  “You are amazing,” I said running my fingers through his hair.

  He just smiled.

  “You – ohh,” I sighed.

  He moved and in that motion he stirred inside. Ner
ve-endings that had exploded in bliss were awake and alive again. I tightened my pussy and he tightened his body. I pulled him to me and kissed him. He kissed back as one in rapture.

  “You got stamina,” I said rolling my wall muscles around him.

  “I try to stay healthy,” he said.

  “You do that good. So how does a strong, healthy werewolf like you manage to get enslaved?”

  He began slowly thrusting again. I was so sopping but his manhood was so thick and warm and alive. I wiggled to take him and he filled me.

  “Why does it matter?” he asked.

  “Because I need to know – ohhh.”

  “What do you need to know?”

  “Ohhhhhh,” I moaned as we held and loved softly.

  “You are so beautiful Eileen.”

  “Ohhhh,” I gasped “How is a werewolf enslaved?”

  “Like any man,” he said driving faster.

  “So can I enslave you?”

  “You already have.”

  “That’s right,” I said looking him straight in the eyes, “so answer me.”

  “This isn’t fair,” he said as he thrust, “you’re taking advantage of me.”

  “I am.”

  I relaxed my muscles. I felt him tremble. I reached under and toyed with his danglers, tickling them with the tips of my nails. He moaned. I played. I stayed loose inside and he began driving faster. I tightened a little and he gasped, then I relaxed and he sighed.

  “Please,” he said, “please don’t do this.”

  “I need to know.”

  I pulled away and wrapped my forked tongue around his man-nip. The little thing stiffened like a girl’s as I grabbed and pulled. He was gritting his teeth as he thrust. I teased him tightening and then relaxing. I had him so off balance.

  “You bitch,” he groaned.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.” I said as my walls grabbed him hard.

  “Ohhhhhhhggnnnn.”

  It was easy. I kept him on the edge until he agreed to tell me everything. Then I let him have it. His climax was so long and powerful that as he shuddered in orgasm I could feel the wolf straining against his flesh. And after he caught his breath he actually snarled at me.

  “You gave me your word,” I said.

  “You used me,” he said. “I call you beautiful and you use me.”