Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters (56 page)

As they finally crested the last hill, more of the castle
came into view. It was all deep black and jagged edges, growing larger and
larger as they went on, surrounded by a huge moat. There was no question in her
mind that this was the witch’s lair. A sense of dread crept over her as they
drew closer and closer, and by the time they approached the massive stone
bridge that led to the doors, she felt numb with fear.

But she had come this far – there was nothing that
would make her turn back now.

There were two figures on either side of the doorway; men
with the heads of bulls. Beauty had heard of such creatures in stories from old
books, but she had never supposed them to be real. She looked at them
curiously. They were watching Beauty and the beast as they approached, but not
moving a muscle. Each was wearing only a pair of tight-fitted leather trousers,
and Beauty found her eyes wandering over the intricate muscles of their bare
chests. They also held long spears, clutched tightly on their huge, strong
hands.

Their faces, of course, were the most notable parts of them
– their ears, horns, and muzzles all fully animal, but their eyes
strangely human. Beauty began to think they would not move or react at all,
until she was within mere feet of the massive wooden doors. As if pulled by
some invisible thread, the minotaurs crossed their spears in front of the door.

The beast crouched, snarling.

“What is your business here?” the one on the left spoke, his
voice deep and dark.

“I request an audience with the lady of the castle,” said
Beauty, forcing her voice not to quiver.

Neither of the guards reacted to her words. Beauty was
beginning to wonder if they’d heard her at all, when finally she heard a faint
noise from deep within the castle. Beneath her feet, the bridge began to shake slightly.

Suddenly, the doors flew open.

Another minotaur was standing inside, with a gold chain
around his neck.

“Come,” he said.

Beauty and the beast followed.

André’s hooves clacked on the stone floors as they made
their way through the great hall, lined with flickering torches high on either
side. Many stone gargoyles sneered down at them as they passed.

Finally, they reached a doorway.

“Dismount,” said the minotaur, and Beauty obeyed, trying to
hold the cloak closed around her naked body as she stepped off of André. She
walked forward, the beast and the minotaur following close behind.

They were in a throne room. At first glance, Beauty thought
that the walls were lined with decorative suits of armor – then, she
realized it was more minotaurs, more than she could count, fully outfitted and
armed, side by side by side. She swallowed hard and kept walking forward.

The witch was sitting in a throne at the end of the hall,
lounging, as if she were always meant to be there. Beauty wondered if she’d had
this castle built for her, or if she had used some trickery to take it for her
own.

As they came closer, the witch began to laugh. Softly, but
deeply, each chuckle shaking her lithe body. She was wearing a black gown that
clung to every curve and contour, and Beauty felt a stab of jealousy in her
chest. Even before she was pregnant, she never looked like
that
.

“Harland,” she said, her voice echoing through the hall.
“And you brought your sweetheart.”

“I came of my own accord,” said Beauty, loudly.

 The witch raised her eyebrows. “Oh, dear. Do you
love
this creature?”

“Yes,” she said without thinking, and she was only mildly
surprised when she realized that it was true. “I am here to ask that you lift
the curse you have unfairly placed upon him. He suffered for many years, and
then broke free, according to the rules that you yourself put in place. What
right do you have to punish him further?”

Beauty’s heart was thudding in her ears, but her body felt
strangely calm. The witch smiled as she listened, tapping her index finger
against her lips, thoughtfully.

“I may do what I wish, whenever I wish,” she said. “But
that’s no matter. You wish for me to lift the curse? I might choose to oblige
you, but I will require something in return.”

“Anything that is within my power to give,” said Beauty.

“Well,” said the witch. “That is quite a promise.”

She smiled, her eyes drifting over the massive hall.

“I trust you have met some of my wonderful soldiers? They
are the best army I could ask for, but I fear I have not been as good to them
as I ought to have been. They have grown restless. You see, none of them have
mates. They desire the same things that men desire, but their strange
appearance…well, I suppose I needn’t explain that to you.” Her eyes flicked
over to the beast. “It has been…difficult to procure any sort of companionship
for them. But now that you are here…perhaps we can come to an agreement.”

Beauty smiled.

“Perhaps we can,” she said.

The witch looked her up and down. “Take off your cloak, if
you please.”

Beauty let the garment fall, standing naked before the
queen. There as a slight chill in the hall, despite the many fireplaces
roaring, and her nipples stiffened quickly when they were exposed to the air.

“Oh my goodness,” said the witch. “Look at you. Have you
been riding naked all this way?”

“I had to leave my dress behind in the troll’s cave,” said
Beauty. “It was ruined.”

“I have no doubt of that,” said the witch. She raised her
fingers to her lips and let out a piercing whistle; within minutes, the hall
had filled with minotaur soldiers. They snorted nervously, scraping their
hooves against the ground.

“A tribute to you,” the witch cried out. “My loyal army.
This girl is yours to use until each of you is spent. Once for each of you,
please, and do be civilized about it.”

Beauty turned to look at them.

The one with the gold chain came forward first. She could
already see him growing hard inside his trousers, and she felt an answering
wetness and tingling between her legs. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips.
Letting her eyes drift over the rest of them, she saw many growing stiff with
anticipation already, stripping off their trousers and fondling themselves
excitedly. Their eagerness awakened a hunger inside of her. She knelt down on
the carpet below the throne, situating herself on all fours as the first
minotaur approached her. He snorted as he knelt behind her, smacking his
manhood against her backside before pushing it deep inside her in one vicious
stroke.

Before she even had time to react, another was approaching
her from the front, pushing his stiff, leaking member against her lips. She
opened her mouth wide for him, cradling him with her tongue, tasting him, the
flavor of salt and earth, and hearing him groan so loud and deep as she swirled
her tongue in circles around his cockhead.

Their desperation was evident. Beauty wondered how long it
had been since any of them had taken a mate. The first minotaur was already
losing his rhythm, and she could hear his harsh breaths as his climax
approached. The head of the other’s manhood was swelling in her mouth. She let
out a muffled sound and suckled him harder, clenching her inner muscles around
the other at the same time. They groaned almost in unison, long and shaky, both
shooting her full of their seed at the same time. She did her best to swallow
what was in her mouth, and almost before she had time to breathe, another pair
was on her.

With throbbing members filling her from both ends, Beauty
simply closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensation, in the heady feeling
of being so important and so desired to so many. It was over quickly with this
pair as well, two more loads of hot seed deposited in her ripe body before she
had time to think.

Next, a group of three approached her. One laid out flat on
the rug, his rod jutting up from his body, absurdly hard and swollen. Beauty
climbed astride him, and soon another was behind her, his hardness pressed
against her spine. As she slowly slid up and down the minotaur beneath her, the
one behind put his fingers in the cleft of her backside, pressing against her
twitching hole. She whimpered, but she had no right to protest. This was their
bargain.

Another was in her mouth in a moment, muffling the small
noises she made as the other minotaur’s fingers forced their way inside of her,
stretching her open until she was able to accept him. She was still absolutely
certain that it would not fit, but it somehow did, and the feeling of being so
thoroughly stuffed in all her holes was completely overwhelming. The minotaur
sheathed in the tight pucker of her backside finished first, and she felt it
acutely – the way he swelled and pulsed inside of her, filling her there
for the very first time.

It would not be the last.

The next group of three took their cues from the last, taking
her all at once until they were spent. During a moment’s lull, Beauty’s eyes
drifted to the witch on her throne. Her eyes were glassy, her lips slightly
parted, and she’d pushed her dress out of the way and spread her legs to touch
herself as she watched the proceedings. Her fingers glistened with her own
wetness as Beauty swallowed yet another mouthful of a minotaur’s seed, only to
prepare herself for more. Beauty wondered if she had ever given herself to them
like this, or if she considered herself too proud, too grand. Would her army
ever follow her orders again if they saw her like this?

The beast was watching, silently, from somewhere in the
crowd. Beauty felt his presence in a way she couldn’t quite explain, knowing
that he was watching her, knowing that he would not let anything truly bad
happen to her.

Beauty had lost count of how many minotaurs she’d pleasured
when she saw the beast stalk slowly towards the throne, his tail swinging
behind him. The witch’s eyes went wide as he drew closer, his member long and
stiff between his haunches.

“Is this what you want?” he growled. “One last time?”

Beauty didn’t quite understand what she was seeing –
only that the beast was about to mate with the witch, and the witch was
spreading her legs even further, moaning eagerly, seemingly on the verge of
climax just from the thought of it. She expected to feel the slightest bit
jealous – even if she had no right to – but instead, the sight sent
a thrill of arousal through her. She had never been able to see the beast like
this, to actually watch him during the act, from a distance. She moaned around
the minotaur that was currently in her mouth and felt herself begin to clench
and shudder around the one inside of her womanhood. Beauty took a deep breath,
forcing herself to hold it back. She didn’t want to climax until all the whole
army was done with her.

The witch was screaming with pleasure, impaled on the
beast’s throbbing hardness, and Beauty found herself wondering, for the first
time, why the witch had transformed him into a beast in the first place. Could
it be? Had she made a prince into a monster simply to gratify her own needs?
Did she, in her own dark and twisted way,
love
the beast?

Beauty was breathless from the energy of trying to hold off
her own climax, dripping from every possible place, and there were still more
minotaurs that had yet to be satisfied. When the next group of three situated
themselves inside of her, she gestured for two more, and a few came running
eagerly, thrusting their hot, stiff members into her hands. She stroked them in
time with the movements of the others, until they sprayed her chest with their
jism.

When the last group finally took their positions, Beauty
finally relaxed, letting the pleasure spiral inside of her, feeling every nerve
go numb as her climax drew closer and closer. On the throne, the witch was
reaching her own peak, spasming and clenching around the beast’s manhood. She
threw her head back and let out a scream that echoed deafeningly through the
hall.

Beauty came then, unable to hold it off for any longer.
Long, powerful waves of ecstasy ran through her, making her tighten around two
of the minotaurs so much that they were done for as well, finishing inside of
her with deep groans. The other three weren’t far behind. Sagging and spent in
her throne, the witch jerked her head vaguely in the beast’s direction, and
just like that, he began his transformation.

Beauty jumped to her feet, running towards him where he lay
on the ground – naked, sticky, and completely and utterly human. The
minotaurs were beginning to shuffle quietly from the hall.

“Leave before I change my mind,” said the queen, quietly.
The prince struggled to his feet, and only just remembered to fetch the cloak
from the floor before they fled across the moat, André hot on their heels.

Once they reached the end of the bridge, they stopped to
catch their breath. Beauty had so many questions, so many things she wanted to
say to him – but somehow, the only thing that came out of her mouth was:

“You’ve returned.”

The prince smiled, his eyes full of wonder and relief. He’d
seen so much on their journey – so much of her that he hadn’t known
existed, so much that
she
hadn’t known. And he looked at her
differently, now. There was a quiet respect there, a subtle acknowledgement of
her power. Beauty glowed. He said: “Are you sure this is how you prefer me to
be?”

Beauty hadn’t expected that question. She actually
considered it for a moment, but the answer was so self-evident she hardly
needed to.

“Yes,” she said. “I believe I have had enough of monsters to
last me a lifetime.”

By

Natalie
Deschain

Chapter
One

“You
need to get out more.”

I knew it
was true, since I was saying it to myself. I thought it would be enough of a
change to move my laptop from my office down to my kitchen table and work while
I sipped some coffee and listened to the bird songs in my back yard. I was
putting the finishing touches on my latest story, and would publish that
afternoon. When I started writing erotica, I mostly wrote vanilla stuff, and I
didn’t publish half of what I wrote. The more and more I sold, though, the
bolder I got. This morning, I was smiling to myself while I wrote the climax of
my new werewolf story. Some people like to write werewolves as aggressive men.
I like something a little different.

He
pushed me to the ground and rolled me onto my side. I felt his claws on my
skin, dragging over the soft flesh of my shoulder, just enough for me to feel
it without drawing blood. The weight of his hairy hand on my side pinned me
while he curled around me, lunging with his enormous, powerfully muscled body.
I trembled and tried not to cry out as I realized what was happening. His
muscular belly, covered in soft fur, undulated against my back, and I felt the
tip of his cock, hot and throbbing, press against my pussy.

“Gentle,”
I murmured, my eyes stinging with tears. “Please.”

My
boyfriend was in there somewhere, inside this beast that was half man and half
monster. I knew he loved me, even as he opened his mouth, his wide muzzle
spreading. I felt hot drool on my neck as his teeth pressed into my skin, not
hard enough to sink into my flesh, but almost. He was holding me in place with
his clawed hands and his enormous fangs, and a deep rumble came from his chest.

He
thrust. I screamed. My body arched, my legs shivered as I drew them up, opening
myself to him. He split me open, filled me, the girth of it unbelievable. I’d
only had a finger inside me before, nothing like this. I dully realized I was
screaming and I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or the irresistible tide of
sensation that quickly washed over and overwhelmed it. I felt so full, so used.
This ravenous beast had taken my virginity, and I moaned like a whore,
thrusting my ass into his furry body, urging him deeper, harder, to punish me
for my crime.

I sat
back from the computer, panting. I swallowed against my dry throat and took a
sip of coffee, trembling. My stomach clenched, and I could feel my panties
clinging to my skin. I leaned back, setting the cup down, and slipped my
fingers under the waistband, down over my soft lips and traced the cleft of my
pussy, and shivered. I sunk down a little more, pitching my hips forward, and
started to dig in, slipping the tip of my finger in while I nudged my clit.
With my other hand I managed to save the file before I got up, my hand stuffed
down my pants, and stumbled into the living room. I landed on the big recliner,
threw one leg over one of the arms, and melted into position, my head lolling
as I leaned on the other arm, twisting and writhing.

The scene
continued in my head. I thought about the huge cock tearing into my heroine,
into me, diving and filling me. I imagine hot breath on my neck and teeth
touching my throat as the werewolf claimed me for its bitch. My pace grew more
frantic, in time with my imaginary beast’s massive cock plowing in and out, in
and out, until it slowed, the creature reaching his peak. I imagined it thrust
inside me, the tip pushing into my belly as the base began to swell, tying us
together, trapping me with a cock in my cunt.

I came
explosively. My body jerked, I screamed, and I nearly flopped off the damned
recliner. My foot brushed a lamp and knocked on the floor. As the climax surged
through me, I curled up on myself, drawing my legs up, crushing my hand between
my thighs. When it was over, I lay panting, sideways on the chair, curled up on
myself. After a while I managed to get up and walk shakily to the bathroom.

I had a
meeting with an agent today- I was writing a “real” book, and I had a shot at
getting it published. I’d shopped it around and an agent was interested. This
was a dream come true. I headed into the bathroom, stripped, and ended up
standing under the water for a good ten minutes while I waited for my legs to
stop shaking. I quickly showered, toweled off, and did my hair up in a
conservative bun. With my thick-rimmed glasses and conservative pantsuit, I
looked like a TV commentator. I stood in front of the mirror, tugging on my
jacket, and practiced looking professional.

The
meeting was at a restaurant, downtown, a pretty swanky place. I took a seat at
one of the cast iron tables on the sidewalk and waited, flipping at my scarf
and twisting the saucer under my coffee cup back and forth. My stomach was quivering
and I was terrified I might actually have to eat. I watched all of the arriving
customers intently, trying not to stare. I felt a little self-conscious about
it and looked out across the street instead. When I looked back to the hostess’
station, there was a tall man, all in black, speaking to her. She blushed and
tittered into her fingertips and looked at me. The tall man nodded and said
something to her that made her knees buckle, and headed for me.

“Elizabeth?”
he said as he reached the table.

I leapt
to my feet and thrust out my hand. He was a good foot taller than I was,
powerfully built even beneath a heavy overcoat that he was presently removing
and resting on the chair next to me. He had jet-black hair and piercing blue
eyes, like little pieces of the sky. He took my hand and grasped it sharply,
pumped it once, and released it. My heart skipped a beat at the touch.

“I’m so
eager to work with you,” he said, lowering himself into the seat. “I’ve already
begun shopping your book proposal to a few publishers. There was some real
excitement.”

I bobbed
in the seat and clasped my hands in front of my chest. “Great!” I beamed.

He spread
his fingers in warning. “Now, let’s not get too excited. You have to finish it,
first.”

I took a
sip of coffee. My hand was trembling. The waitress bustled up to the table and
we ordered. She spent most of the time staring at him.

“Mister
Farshaw,” I said, “I-”

“Please.
Max.” 

“Max, I
can’t tell you how exciting this is. I can’t believe anyone even called me back.” 

“I can.
This isn’t your first rodeo, is it?”

I blushed
and shrugged, looking away. His gaze was so intense. “No. I, um, write…
erotica.”

He smiled
thinly, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Do you, now. What kind?”

“Um,” I
said, “the kind with sex.”

“Oh, but
there’s so many kinds,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table. “Monsters?”

“Yes,” I
said, sheepishly. “All kinds of perverted stuff.”

“Oh, I’m
sure you do,” he said as he slipped his gloves off to eat, “I’m sure you do.”

I
flinched, staring at him wide-eyed. Was he flirting with me? He caught my gaze
in his and I felt the weight of it settle on me, and I felt myself stir. He
smiled a real smile, flashing some teeth. His teeth were very white and looked
sharp.

“Tell me
about yourself. What did you do before you became a writer?”

“I was a
teacher,” I said. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought about going to nursing
school… I wanted to help people,” I sighed.

“You do,”
said Max. “Giving people release and an outlet for the fantasies is important.
I’m sure you know that.”

“I never
really thought about that,” I said softly. “I guess it’s true.”

“You like
that, don’t you? Knowing people are aroused by your work. You must.”

I coughed
a little. “Well to be honest, yeah. I guess I do. I don’t feel like such a
weirdo. I mean, I’ve always liked the monster stuff… I figured if I like to
read it, why not try writing it? It was a huge surprise when it started to take
off.”

He
nodded. “What’s your favorite? Monster I mean.”

The food
arrived, and I waited, pointedly, until the waitress was out of earshot.

“I like
werewolves,” I said, almost in a whisper. “Dragons, too. The other monsters are
fun, but… the power, and the, uh, the size. I like that.”

He
nodded. “I’ve read some of your work, you know. It was bold to mention your pen
name in your cover letter, but it helped me see the potential is there. The
sample chapter you sent out is good, but it’s tough to break into this
business.”

I nearly
choked on my sandwich. “Oh,” I managed to cough out. “You’ve read it, huh.”

“Yes. You
have a vivid imagination. There’s a kind of… aggression to it all I found
fascinating. I don’t read much erotica.”

The rest
of the meal went by quickly. It was mostly Max speaking, me listening. He told
me about how the process worked, about how I was months way from getting paid
even when I finished the manuscript and it was accepted and probably years away
from seeing the book in print, but I didn’t mind any of that. I was thrilled at
the idea of a book with my real name, published and on shelves in stores and in
people’s houses. I’d dreamed of that since I was a little kid.

“Enough
shop talk,” he said, finally. “I was wondering if you’d like to meet with me
later. In a less professional capacity.”

My eyes
widened and I nearly dropped my fork. I wasn’t really expecting that. A dozen
thoughts raced through my head. Do I have to fuck him to get my book published?
Did he set this whole thing up for… he couldn’t have, he didn’t know what I
looked like. The picture I used for my author profiles didn’t show my face. I
thought about it for a second, trying not to be too obvious about looking him
over. He was attractive, and drumming his fingers on the table.

“Sure,” I
said, bouncing a little in my seat.

He
smiled. “Good. I’ll be by around eight. Is that alright?”

I nodded.
He stood up and I jumped up, too, and shook his hand again. This time, his grip
lasted a little longer, and he looked into my eyes. Just for a second, his
pupils contracted, slitting like a cat’s. I blinked and shook my head. He
looked at me strangely.

“Is
something wrong?”

I must
have imagined it. A trick of the light. It was bright outside, despite the
winter chill. “N-no. Eight o’clock, right?”

He
nodded, grinning, and dropped a stack of bills on the table. “Eight. I’ll see
you then.”

I sat
down in the chair and finished the last few bites of my clubs sandwich. I
looked around, but Max was gone, like he’d stepped into thin air. I saw that
the bill was paid, realized I definitely didn’t need to add to the tip, and
started on my way home. I watched the streets slide by in the cab, giddy with
excitement the whole way. I was going to be a real author! I had a date!

As I
walked into my apartment, it felt like I was floating. I ended up flopping down
on the same chair, breathing heavily with excitement. When I finally calmed
down, I glanced at my phone. I had hours to get ready, so I decided to put the
finishing touches on my latest story. I’d send it out to the cover artist I was
working with later. The process of finishing up was a bit more sedate, and I
focused on getting the details right as I segued out of the sex scene and into
the denouement. In finished it in a couple of hours, and saw it was probably
time to get ready to meet Max again.

The
pantsuit wouldn’t do. I freshened up and changed into a black cocktail dress.
It was cold outside, so I draped a long wool coat over the chair by the front
door and waited, pacing back and forth and looking the mirror to check my
makeup, wondering if I’d overdone it. The buzzer went off at five minutes to
eight, and I jumped out of my skin before I ran to the door.

“Hello?”

“It’s
me,” said Max, his voice tinny and distorted. “Can I come up?”

“Of
course!”

I waited
until I heard a knock at the door and opened it. He was in a different suit,
black silk with a cream-colored shirt and a dull brown tie, with a silver pin
in the shape of a wolf’s head. Something about that tickled the back of my
mind. I smiled.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he
said, plucking his hat from his head. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure.”

I stepped
out of the way, suddenly realizing my apartment was a mess. He looked around
and shrugged, smiling to himself. “Small, but homey. Nothing like my place.”

I folded
my arms over my chest. “Small, huh?”

“I meant
no offense.”

“So,
where are we going?”

“Going?
Ah. Where would you like to go?”

An alarm
bell went off in my head. There was something weird about this. He settled his
hands on my shoulders, and I blinked. His eyes shifted, the blue catching the
light in a funny way, so they looked almost green, his pupils sliding down into
little slits before they snapped back to normal.

“You’re
nervous,” he murmured, “and it excites you.”

I was
nervous, and it was a little exciting. Dangerous men weren’t usually interested
in a woman like me. “Uh, yeah, I guess, I…”