Gone with the Monster

by Lila Dubois

  She remembered the way she’d first seen Runako. He’d been battling with Luke, both of them in their Monster bodies. There’d been something savage in their battle, a kind of primal beauty, like lions ripping at each other. And when the fight was done the terrifying blue-winged monster turned into one of the hottest black guys Margo had ever seen.

  This was ridiculous. Runako couldn’t just…kidnap her. She had work to do, work to do that would benefit him.

  “Runako. Come here.”

  Runako, wearing only slacks, appeared. In the flickering firelight Margo could just make out the dark band of tattoos around his right bicep. The tattoo was actually a manifestation of the spell that allowed him to flip back and forth between bodies.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, voice like whiskey and velvet.

  “I’m ready to go home.”

  “I’m not returning you.”

  “You have to.”

  “Why?” Runako stalked forward again. “Why do I have to?”

  “Because I said so. Because I asked you to.”

  “You can go if you can get away,” he said with a savage smile.

  “That’s…that’s barbaric.” The calm Margo had found during her wait disappeared. “This is felony kidnapping. You have to take me home.”

  Runako leapt across the cave and planted his hands on either side of her. “Make. Me.”

  Margo kissed him again. This was not going according to plan. The kiss was probably a mistake.

  But what a mistake it was. Runako cupped the back of her head and savaged her mouth, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and biting it. Margo jerked back, gasping for air, and Runako kissed and nipped his way down her neck.

  “Ahh, yes, now right behind my ear. Madre de Dios. Oh that’s good.”

  “You talk,” he said, kissing his way across her jaw to take her lips. “I like it,” he murmured before taking her lips in a ravaging kiss.

  Margo slid her hands along his chest and belly. He was cut. Physical male perfection. She jerked her lips from his and tilted her head back. Runako took the hint and paid attention to her neck. Margo shuddered in pleasure when he licked the spot below her ear.

  “You are so hot,” she murmured, running her fingers over his muscled shoulders to his equally muscled back. His shoulders were wide and strong. She actually felt petite next to him.

  “And you. I want to see you naked.”

  Margo blinked. Reality came crashing back. “Oh no. I don’t think so.”

  Runako groaned but let her push him away. “What now?”

  “There is no way I am letting you see me naked. You’re like a Calvin Klein underwear model, but hotter, and I’m like…I’m like a partially deflated Big-O Tires balloon.”

  Runako stared at her. “I did not understand any of that.”

  “You are hot. I am fat.”

  Runako looked at her, and Margo became instantly aware of the fact that the way she was sitting caused her belly to bulge unattractively. She tried to suck it in, but that made it worse.

  “You have some fat, yes. But I find it attractive.”

  Hurt, familiar but unwelcome, flooded Margo. “Gee, thanks. I’m delighted to know you’d be willing to bang me despite the fact that I’m a fatty.” She bent her head and blinked, hating that tears had filled her eyes. She was twenty-six years old, and had accepted the fact that she was never going to be a size eight, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

  Runako stood. “You are not aroused.”

  “Being called a fat ugly cow will do that to a girl.”

  “I said none of those things. And fat cows are tasty.”

  “Great, now I’ll just sit here and worry that you’re going to eat me. I bet you wouldn’t want to eat a skinny girl.”

  “I believed that Luke and Michael were weak because they seemed unable to control their human women,” he said, hands on his hips as he considered her. “Perhaps women are more complicated than I believed.”

  With a murmur of “I will return” Runako left.

  Chapter Four

  This was not going according to plan. Then again, he hadn’t had much of a plan. Runako slumped into one of the comfortable chairs he’d brought to the cave. The first room in the cave, the one where Margo was, was meant to frighten and intimidate. The second room, where he was, was outfitted for comfort. Runako had followed Michael’s directions, making countless trips from the closest human town to the cave.

  There was a large TV, movies, books, ice chests full of food and a couch.

  He’d also grabbed clothes for Michael, which luckily fit him. Michael had asked him to get some clothes for Jane, but he hadn’t. If Michael’s plan was to bend the girl to his will he shouldn’t give her clothes, he should keep her naked.

  That was what Runako wanted to do with Margo, but something he’d said had made her upset, and getting her to take off her clothes seemed like a slim possibility. Runako picked up the headphones sitting on the arm of the chair and slipped them on. After his unsuccessful attempt to stop Luke, Michael and Henry from working with the humans to expose the truth about their people, Runako had been put on a strict regime of TV and Movie watching. Lena, Luke’s mate, had brought over boxes of movies for him to watch. He had to admit that a film might be enough to teach the humans. After all, he’d learned a lot from watching movies about them.

  He hit play on the remote, keeping the volume low enough that he could hear Margo if she called for him, and settled in to finish watching Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

  He focused all of his attention on the screen, particularly on the character who seemed to find fault with her body. The twiggy-looking ones were clearly the more attractive by human standards.

  “Stupid humans,” he murmured as the movie ended. Taking off the headphones he leaned back and looked at the ceiling. Margo did not find herself attractive because of stupid human standards. She’d seemed willing and excited to have sex with him, at least until he’d mentioned her getting naked. So the only way to have sex with her was to make her lose her fears about her body, and to remove the obstacle of her fear of nakedness.

  Much relieved to have a plan, Runako picked up a knife and headed for his captive.

  Chapter Five

  Margo was attempting to ignore the fact that she had to pee when Runako walked in holding a knife.

  Tired, cold, and a little freaked out Margo took one look at the knife and did something she normally wouldn’t do. She screamed like a girl.

  “Whoa,” Runako said, jumping, “don’t do that. No screaming.”

  “I’m supposed to just sit here calmly when you walk in with a knife?”

  “I’m would not hurt you. Do you think I would?” he asked, sounding wounded.

  Margo rolled her eyes. “You kidnap me and chain me to a cold stone thing that looks suspiciously like a sacrificial altar. What am I supposed to think?”

  “You are meant to think that I want you very much.”

  Runako approached her, though hesitantly, clearly worried she would start screaming again. Margo bit her lower lip to keep from smiling. He was half turned, taking small steps, the way someone would approach a snake.

  He had the knife behind his back, and Margo’s amusement fled when he gingerly sat down beside her and laid the knife, still clenched firmly in his hand, on his thigh.

  “What’s it for?” she asked in a husky whisper.

  “I can’t tell you,” he replied, also in a whisper.

  Runako cupped the back of her head, and Margo let him do it. He brought their faces close, and again she didn’t protest. He initiated this third kiss, with her permission. When his lips brushed hers, back and forth, adding a little pressure with each pass, Margo started to believe in the magic of the number three.

  This kiss was like a building storm—murky grey clouds, heavy with lightening and thunder, rolling slowly over her senses, raising the fine hairs on her arms and neck as the air crackled. She could feel his tension, feel
the vibrating hum of energy as he held himself still, moving only his head, his lips. Margo sighed and leaned in, trying to deepen the kiss, but his hand at the back of her neck tightened into a fist, her hair trapped inside. He held her back, controlling the kiss completely.

  Margo raised her hands, but then let them flutter back to her lap. She liked this, liked feeling controlled, liked the way his broad shoulders and thick arms made her feel small in comparison.

  His hand slid from her hair down her neck, to trace her collarbones and then dip into her shirt. He pressed two fingers into the hollow between her breasts, inserted them deeper, so they were trapped between breastbone and bra.

  Margo gasped against his lips and shuddered. His touch felt more intimate than it should have, and when she shuddered it was in pleasure.

  “How do you do that?” she gasped.

  “Do what?” Runako slipped his fingers from her shirt, then lifted the strap of her purse over her head and tossed her bag to the side.

  “Like you don’t know.”

  Runako smiled, and his teeth seemed very big and white. He took her hand in his, laced his fingers with hers and kissed her knuckles. Margo repressed a girly sigh.

  Runako brought the hand holding the knife around, jerked her arm straight, and slid the blade of the knife under her cuff. Before she could react he’d split the sleeve of her shirt up to the shoulder.

  “Gack! What— Why—”

  Runako, face cold, grabbed the hanging panels and yanked, ripping the shirt along the shoulder seem to the collar. He lifted the knife towards the collar, but when Margo wrapped her hands over her neck with a squawk he detoured to her other arm and slit that sleeve too. His moves were sure and quick. The knife didn’t so much as nick her.

  “Runako, what are you doing?” Margo yelped as he jerked her hands away from her neck, sliced through the neck seam, and pulled her tattered shirt from her body.

  “Making you naked.”

  Margo crossed her arms protectively over her bra-covered breasts. Runako sliced through the shoulder straps.

  “I don’t want to be naked, naked is bad.”

  “Naked is good.”

  “Couldn’t you have just pulled my clothes off me?” Margo yelped, giving up on her bra, which luckily held on, in order to tussle with Runako as he reached for her pants.

  “If I took your clothes from you as they were…” Runako paused to glare at her when she crossed her legs and grabbed the waistband, “…you would be able to put them back on. This way you’ll remain naked.”

  “For how long?” Margo gasped.

  He didn’t answer. Runako was busy destroying her slacks. He’d turned to face her feet, wrapped one arm around her knees to hold her legs still, and was slicing the legs from the cuffs, as he’d done with her shirt. Once he reached her knees he released her, holding on to the fabric of her pants. Margo’s thrashing further ripped the legs, exposing her to mid thigh. When she realized what she was doing, Margo fell still.

  “How long will you be naked?” Runako repeated, admiring her partially revealed legs. He met her gaze, and there was wildness in his brown eyes. “As long as I demand.”

  Quick as a thought he tugged the waistband of her pants from her numb fingers and sliced through it at each hip. With a few tugs he’d left her in nothing more than a thong and bra.

  Margo looked down at herself, groaned, and leaned back on one elbow, the other hand holding what was left of her bra in place. Leaning back made her more vulnerable, but also stopped her stomach fat from bulging unpleasantly.

  Runako slid his fingers under the thin piece of elastic on her hip. “I like this. I will let you keep it, but your breasts are going to be bare.”

  Margo squeezed her eyes shut as he pried her arm from her breasts, slid the knife under the center piece of her bra, and sliced it open.

  She had fat thighs. Her pants were perpetually too big at the waist because she had to buy to fit her thighs. She had a fat pouch on her lower belly, her upper arms were grotesque and her butt was rumpled by cellulite. Margo swallowed back tears. For the first time since Runako had materialized from the shadows she felt scared and alone. Before this moment everything had been some wild adventure, a soon-to-be-anecdote. Now it was real, now it was personal.

  Being naked before him was far more personal than the kisses. Her kisses were confident. He had not stripped control from her. Even when he shackled her and denied her freedom, she’d retained her confidence. That confidence, the assertive, in-your-face approach, was Margo’s cloak from the world. The cloak had been made from a lifetime of hurt and rejection, uncertainty and fear. Wearing her cloak she was a Powerful Latino Woman, a Confident Urban Professional, An Industry-Savvy Ball Buster and a Good Friend.

  Naked, she was none of those things. The capital-letter titles she’d invented for herself, affirmations she labeled herself by were gone. Now she was just Margo, and just Margo wasn’t good enough.

  Runako lay beside her, easing her back until she was lying down. As her back made contact with the stone her skin broke out in goose bumps, her nipples pebbling to hard points. Runako pillowed her head on his forearm, keeping himself propped up on one elbow. Margo turned her face into the crook of his arm. He smelled good.

  “I won’t let you hide forever,” he warned. There was no sympathy in his voice. Couldn’t he see she was dying of embarrassment and self-loathing? Was there no compassion for a dying woman?

  Her hands, which had fluttered to cover her breasts and belly, were yanked away. He forced her hands to her sides, offered her no hiding place. His wide, warm palm came to rest on her collarbones. Margo tried to hold her breath so the rise and fall of her chest wouldn’t draw attention to her breasts.

  Runako kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger there. She could feel him bent over her, sheltering her. He kissed his way to her ear and whispered, “I know you are sad. I can feel it. I know why. You think you are not correct according to bullshit human standards.”

  His palm slid to cover her breast and settled squarely over her erect nipple, his fingers squeezing the sides. Margo hissed out a breath. It felt like a live wire had been wrapped around her breast and pressed to her nipple. She’d never been so aware of her right breast. She squeezed her thighs together, knowing she was wet. She had been, from the first kiss.

  She had to smile at the way he said human. It was with the same tone she would use to say “flesh eating bacteria”.

  “Well, I am human,” she whispered against his bicep.

  “Humans are stupid.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You less so than most,” he conceded.

  “No please, your compliments are just too much.”

  “What you’re doing right now is sarcasm, yes?”

  “It really loses its impact when you have to ask,” she grumbled.

  “Look at me,” he demanded. Margo shook her head.

  “I’d rather not,” she mumbled against his arm.

  “Look, watch me touch you.”

  “Gack. I could think of nothing more hideous.”

  Runako grunted in impatience. He slid away from her, and Margo squeezed her eyes closed. It was cold without him. She’d driven him away.

  Runako took her hands and jerked them above her head. Margo didn’t fight him, she was sunk into self-loathing, which was made worse by the fact that she was increasingly aroused by what was happening.

  If she could have imagined herself out of her body, and into the body of a supermodel, this whole episode could be nothing but pleasure. If she were thin, with perfect breasts and a tightly muscled butt, she would deserve the pleasure he could give her. But she wasn’t thin or perfect, and lying like this she probably looking like a doughy, unevenly-tanned mess. And with her arms above her head she was sure her upper arms looked like ham hocks.

  There was the clink of chain, and then cold metal slid around her wrists. Margo yelped, but kept her eyes closed.

  “Now you cannot hide
yourself. Open your eyes.”

  “No.”

  “You begin to aggravate me.” Runako tugged the chains attached to the cuffs on her wrists, stretching her arms further up.

  “Please just let me die here.”

  “Die? Do you still think I would hurt you?” There was concern in his voice, and Runako began petting her arms as if to comfort her. All Margo could think was that he was touching her dreaded arm fat.

  “I’m going to die of embarrassment,” she moaned. “I hate being naked. My body is…hideous. I’m years away from my goal weight, I can never stick to a muscle-building workout routine, my arms always get way too brown in the summer, and then I look like a panda, my boobs are uneven, I have ugly arm fat and—”

  Runako put his hand over her mouth. Margo opened one eye. Runako’s lip was curled up. The look was either horror or disgust, maybe both. Margo squeezed her eyes closed.

  “You are a crazy woman,” Runako said after a moment. “This is going to be more difficult than I thought. But I will not relent.”

  Runako cupped her breasts, one in each hand, and rubbed the undersides with his thumbs. “You are stronger than this. You must be, else the human species would not be the disgusting plague it is.”

  “Hey, now…”

  “Your fears are stupid.”

  “You can’t say that. Stop value-judging me.”

  “Stop pretending I’m a human man. I’m not. You think that your pouts will sway me. Make me obey you.” His voice had turned to stone, but there was a soothing quality to it. It was nearly unearthly, the way his voice filled the cave. “They will not. There is nothing you can do to stop me from doing whatever I want with you.”

  Margo’s eyes popped open. He was serious, deadly so.

  She’d started thinking of the Monsters as dangerous but friendly, the way a well-trained police dog is. Of course they were dangerous, but the ones she’s spent the most time with, Luke, Henry and Michael, were so eager to be accepted and gain her trust that Margo had never felt threatened by them. In truth, though she would never admit it out loud, Margo found the Monsters somewhat pathetic. They were a dying race of primeval creatures. She’d imagined her company would help them move in the human world where they would be treated with respect and affection. They would have no real power or place. She’d relegated them, in her own mind, to the status of exotic and fading minorities.