Werebear Horror Romance: Given to the Bears (Paranormal Horror Fantasy Romance Short Story) (Shapeshifter Fantasy Horror Romance) (2 page)

The woman's eyes were grey, and piercing; they took me in and held me there for a timeless eternity. After the moment of eternity had passed, a single question formed within my consciousness.

"Are you ready to give yourself to The Tribe?"

The mention of The Tribe brought a shot of warmth radiating through my legs, and though I did not consciously know who or what The Tribe was, I was confident that if I said yes, I would rise to a new position of understanding, concerning my identity as a woman, and what my role within this world might look like. I paused for a moment, and then nodded my head, though mostly to myself.

"Speak your affirmation," the woman announced clearly. "Your words are binding, so choose them carefully."

When I looked back up at the woman, her figure had grown more intense. The shadows on her body became more definitive, and caused the angles of her breasts, chin, nose and brow to become more clearly defined due to the contrast. On top of her head, amid the whipping raven colored hair was a crown of ivy and holly. Her eyes had taken on a golden tint within each massively expanded pupil.

I took a deep breath, and spoke my truth.

"I trust you," I said. "I am one with The Tribe."

As I spoke those words, my hair flew out in all directions, and my legs were beat and caressed by the grain below my hips. The woman regarded me for a moment, as if gauging the sincerity of my commitment.

"Bow," she commanded.

I shook my head.

"You refuse?" she raised an eyebrow in my direction.

"I consent to the will of The Tribe, but not to you." I replied.

"You don't even know who I am," the woman replied. "There's no way you could discard my will, even if you wanted to do so. I am the movement at the deepest part of your unconscious. I am the force of life itself."

"Life belongs to all, not to you," I replied, emboldened by my initial refusal to obey the whims of this powerful entity.

"And so it does," the woman replied, nodding, and then grinning at me once more.

"Come here my faithful servant, and drink the honey from within my chalice," the woman bade me.

She lifted one leg up into the air, and planted the other firmly on the surface of the stone. Her hips bucked in invitation, and her index and middle fingers directed her nipples outward; engorging them so that they compelled me to bring them into my mouth. The unrelenting bush between her legs swayed in the breeze. Each strand of hair was alive, and independently expressive of the sheer power of the woman to whom they were connected. The pubic hair moved about in waves, revealing a blood flushed slit between two beautiful labia.

I'm not sure how anyone in their right mind refuses an offer like that; regardless of sexual orientation. I literally floated up into the air, and came to rest on the rock in front of the woman. My hands caressed the back of her legs, and my knees dug into the cold, hard surface of the boulder.

Opening my mouth, I reached my tongue out to touch the inside of her leg, between her thigh and that marvelous mound of hair; surprisingly, there was skin there, and it was soft and warm. Her scent was inviting, and I had little trouble transitioning from the crotch of her leg, to her warm center. I gave my tongue entirely to her vagina, and let the flavor of her body permeate my consciousness; the entire tone of the dream changed after each taste. Every aspect of the dream became foggy and irrelevant compared to the landscape created by this woman's body.

I rubbed my nose on her clitoris, and let my hands raise up against her abdomen, past the slight jut of her hips. I reached the underside of her breasts, and squeezed. Milk dripped from each nipple in a steady stream, and rolled down both of my forearms. I took a break from the woman's clit long enough to lap up the milk, and was immediately torn between whether or not to follow the stream of sweet, warm liquid up her body, or to return my attention to the clit that sent vibrating chills though my skull when I brought her into my mouth.

The woman reached down and firmly grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head, and guided my face back toward her waiting clit. The decision had been made for me, and I was utterly content with the conclusion.

I completely lost any sense of myself, and only remember one tongue stroke after another, pulling out her clit from within its protective sheath, and covering her most sensitive anatomical aspect with my lips. I did my best to be accommodating; my lips can be soft and receptive when they need to be. I struggled sincerely at times not to bite her; not because I wanted to hurt her mind you, just because she was so incredible.  I wanted my tongue to go as far into her vagina as possible. I wanted to suck her clit and I didn't care if her vulva and labia got brought into my mouth as well. I didn't care if her wild pubic mane became my new dental floss; it was worth it. Every last lick, was a small piece of heaven.

When she finally came, the result was a deluge of nectar. The liquid flowed into my mouth, and I instinctively swallowed what I could, and let the excess pour out over my lips, and down onto my breasts and thighs.

"So this is your honey," I thought, licking my lips and kissing the woman's fluttering, contracting vagina. "Incredible."

I rose from my knees, and let my tongue broadly grace her abdomen until I had lapped up every bit of milk that had spilled from her breasts. Even still, small amounts leaked out of each nipple, like precum, or a faucet that had not quite been shut off.

"You couldn't shut her off," I realized. "She is the source of life itself."

The woman smiled down at me, and I looked up. Her face was the same as Sharn, the woman who had been meditating outside of the hut. I squinted to focus, and the features of her face shifted once more, into something primal, and then back into the form of the woman I had licked clean. I stood up, and allowed my mouth to be drawn toward hers. I gave her the remnants of her own milk and honey.

I was exhausted from effort, and overwhelmed with the ecstasy of having licked a body so profound. I am certain at this point the fluids that I consumed must have had some kind of narcotic, hallucinogenic effect, for there is no other explanation for the experiences that took place following that moment.

While my cheek was pressed firmly against the woman's body, I felt a coil slip around each ankle and wrist. The touch was soft at first, like a lover stroking my skin with the tip of a finger. I can't say that the touch became any more violent, but it did become more complete. The sensation wrapped itself around the diameter of my wrists and ankles, until I had been firmly bound.

Once the binding had occurred, I felt a light, tracing sensation as the cords spiraled their way up the limbs of my body, toward my shoulders and hips. When I finally experienced the awareness necessary to turn around and examine the encroaching force, I realized that the faint touch that I had been experiencing was a vine of ivy using my body as a terrace.

I tried to resist by yanking at the vines, but they were already too thick. I suspect that even if I had been able to pull one arm free, another vine would have risen up to assume the place of the wounded plant. The woman realized my struggles, and hushed me with a soft pat of her hand, and a comb of her fingers through my hair.

When The Ivy penetrated my body, at first, I was fearful. Natural as the implements were for the mechanics of this union, the entire process was incredibly unnatural. The Ivy pulsed and curled around my nipples and squeezed my clitoris up against itself. Still more tendrils tickled my anus, and my lips. A particularly bold stem wove its way directly into my cunt, and slowly began to mark out its territory by kneading along the inside of my vaginal walls.

My breasts were rhythmically massaged, each by a coil of ivy. The sensation of being pulled in so many different directions at once, while being gently stroked on the cheek is a strange mixture of terror and satisfaction. I am now of the opinion that my anxieties were more anticipatory than actual. The plant was sentient, and though it thoroughly penetrated my body, it did not actually harm me.

My anus was spared penetration, but the vines eagerly grew down my throat, and to the width of my vagina. I couldn't breathe, but during the entire time, the plant released some kind of sedative agent, along with the most glorious feeling of warmth I had ever felt. I'm not sure if the experience was strictly phytochemical, as in some chemical agent had infused itself throughout my body at each contact point, or if the process was magical, and literal sunlight from whatever realm I was currently existing in, was being channeled into my body from both ends.

The warmth spread from my uterus and throat, into my abdomen, chest, face, legs, arms, and eventually hands and feet. My fluids dripped out over both penetrative vines, and were absorbed eagerly by the plant as it transferred high density light into my soul.

The vine attending to my asshole kneaded and loosened the muscles surrounding my sphincter, and curled itself lovingly around each cheek. When the light filled my body, all terror, pain, judgement, disgust, and bodily waste poured out from my anus, spilling onto The Ivy in the field below. Leaves cleaned any trace of defecation from my body. The roots of The Ivy eagerly grew up and over the defecation. The expulsion was buried quickly beneath the soil, at which point it was systematically absorbed and transmuted by decomposers and soil bacteria; within moments, a state change had occurred between filth and sustenance.

The vine which had spread itself into my throat withdrew itself with a single motion. I gagged, vomited, and drooled. I had never defecated or vomited within a dream before. Lights surrounded my vision, and a reassuring hand caressed a strand of hair which curled about next to my ear. The Ivy nursed me back to health by directing one leaf full of collected dew down my throat at a time. Patiently, it would wait for me to either swallow, or spit the water out. The taste of my bile was too much to handle at first, but after repeated rinses, it lessened and finally disappeared.

Something changed slightly after the expulsion from my mouth and my anus. I felt clear and light, as though I had relinquished something deep and prohibitive from within my body. The air was delightful inside of my lungs, and it was not long before I was sucking once more at The Sorceress's clit. The woman's hand was more caressing this time, and any resistance I had towards the experience had long dissipated. My mouth worked consistently, and intently on bringing her to climax once more, so I could take my fill of the nectar that I had lost in the purge.

She was sweet. A tang rippled through my mouth, and I lapped up each drop of fluid that was released in my direction. Throughout the course of my drinking of her body, I was brought to climax after climax by what I can only assume was the animate will of the woman whom I serviced. The energy of orgasm passed through me, and was transmitted to the woman through my mouth; that same energy must have gone through an alchemical process before it was returned to me, because as time went on, I felt more and more one with the soul of all things.

Tears and sweat poured from my body, and eventually, the force of my vaginal contractions grew so strong that I pushed The Ivy out of myself. I looked up from my position of submission to the woman. The Ivy had facilitated a massive leaf in order to provide a throne for the woman, and my head had been resting between her legs, licking contentedly at her vagina. She smiled at me, and stroked my hair once more.

The Ivy entered me once more, and began to go deeper than it had gone before. The tendril pushed past my cervix, and entered my uterus; the feeling was unreal. While inside, I felt another chemical process taking place within my body. All of the lining that I had yet to shed was massaged off and replaced with a tonic chemical. The vine exited my vagina with a flourish, causing another series of contractions, during which the remainder of my menses was pushed out from within my body.

A process of perpetual sexual engagement and cleansing took place over the next twelve days. I must have subsisted on sunlight, vaginal fluid and breast milk. I lost track of how many orgasms took place, and even how long I was there. All I know is that when it was all done, I was ovulating, and my body had been transformed from that which was familiar to that which is foreign, and powerful.

The woman eventually dried up, and turned into a witch. Her eyes were more piercing than anything I have ever experienced. She was beyond the need to communicate anything to me. I had been sucking at her body for weeks, and she had literally given herself to me.