Werebear Horror Romance: Given to the Bears (Paranormal Horror Fantasy Romance Short Story) (Shapeshifter Fantasy Horror Romance) (6 page)

I think back now to what things may have looked like from the fifth shifter's perspective. I took care of each of the most feral and violent members of each of his Tribe, and systematically drained each one of their vitality. Each of his tribesmen were in a near comotose state of exhaustion, suspended and gagged like some horrific fantasy BDSM fantasy gone horribly wrong.

"They probably have folktales about this sort of thing," I thought. "Women You Don't Want to Meet in the Forest at Night."

I laughed to myself, saturated with apparent power and sensuality. When I walked up to him, my hips swayed and exotic, poisonous flowers grew in my wake. The trail was colored like blood. My prey was mortified. All I could see of his face was his eyes, wide and terrified, and two nostrils flaring in a desperate attempt to breathe while the rest of his face was covered in thick foliage, and his mouth was forced open by a pulsating vine. Saliva dripped from his mouth. I stopped beneath his form, and caught some of the saliva in my mouth. After reflecting for a moment, it became clear to me that the fluid contained hallucinogenic alkaloids.

"No wonder they are terrified," I contemplated, while observing the spinning forms of the ornaments above my head. "All of their emotional perceptions are amplified."

For a moment, I reflected on whether or not my behavior had been appropriate. Such brief ethical thoughts are hardly held within the idea of gang rape retaliation, but this exercise had moved well beyond retaliation and into something much more vindictive.

"I am extracting something from these creatures," I realized. "But what?"

I glanced up as the vines lowered the fifth shifter toward my body, making his genitals readily available. I laughed at myself as I reached up to stroke his exposed body. Obviously, the most appropriate question was not what, but why.

I reviewed the next penis, as though it was some obscure art object, or scientific specimen to study. The frenulum was thin and tightly bound between the head and the shaft. The entire surface area of the penis was inflated to its greatest capacity. I wasn't sure how much time had been spent on each of the other members of the Tribe, but this one was ready to burst; spilling his seed where it may fall; I was certain of where that place would be.

"How long will it take before you can't handle it any longer," I asked the shifter, evaluating how I wanted to proceed from this point.

"Do you think you could handle being inside of me without blowing your load immediately?" I asked.

The man shuddered, his wide eyes communicated all that I needed to know.

I decided that the shifter's sensory overload was not quite extensive enough, and that submersion within my vagina would be a good next step for this one. As I lay down on the ground, a luxurious leaf the size of my body sprouted to support me. Thin, spiraled tendrils erupted from the stalk, and supported each of my ankles. The effect of the foliage was that of an exotic and highly customized gynecological chair. The vegetation must have been pleased with itself, because additional floral scents came out from a cluster of plants which sprouted from the ground surrounding my current position.

The vines themselves were ready to go, and a few of them even proceeded ahead of my next partner, taking their time with my clit and massaging my vulva to prepare for entry. I pet the sentient vegetation and its leaves grew in response; an effect which reminded me of the hairs which prickle on a person's neck when they are touched, delicately.

I have to say, it was nice just to be serviced for a while. I laid there with my legs spread wide and watched as a six inch cock entered me in a slow and sensual manner. My mouth opened wide in a near perpetual gasp. The plants were so considerate, I couldn't believe it.

"If only that asshole alpha had been so considerate," I reflected between moans, "none of this would have happened."

The pleasure of the slow and sensual fuck was something between intellectual awareness, and visceral enjoyment of my own nervous system. The cock was wet and each milimeter caused waves of energy to roll up through my vagina, past my belly button, and all the way up my spine. Occasionally the plants would stop the repeated penetrative motion, and begin to oscillate the shifter's body in a slow rotation. The effect was that the firm and bulbous head of the man's penis began to knead the muscles inside of my body. A tiny stream of my own sexual fluid dripped down along his shaft, and turned into a trickling creek, once it reached the forest floor. I dilated for him, and felt any tensions which had previously existed within my body dissipate with the union.

Exiting my body was a slow and intentional process, and I felt his body depart from mine with infinite attention. The beautiful thing about the exit was that his cock didn't leave contact with my body, it simply transferred pressure from within my vagina to the inner tissue of my vulva. My clit had been desiring attention for some time, and she had already peaked her little head out from beneath my clitoral hood; the penis which was serving my body obliged, stroking her in long even movements. Shivers ascended up the core of my body.

The trail of anticipation led the head of his penis up from my clit, around my abdomen, until he finally arrived at the peak of one titillated nipple.

"Does he feel the texture of my areola on his skin?" I wondered. "Is he that sensitive, or is this just an overwhelming totality of an experience from his perspective?'

I didn't ask him, because he was busy being slowly fucked in the mouth with a gigantic hallucinogenic vine. I'm not even sure he would have been able to respond to me consciously, even if he had the ability to speak. During my meditative reflection on the nature of his experience, he began to ejaculate.

The first spurt was immaculate, and landed in a splash form, somewhere between my brow and my neck. The second, third and fourth ejaculations were less powerful than the first, but were each amazing in their own right. I was impressed by the force of the expulsion. I wanted his seed to go to good use, so I leaned forward to bring my mouth to the head of his cock. When I took him into my mouth, an additional four contractions took place within his body, and a slow leak of sperm pooled onto my tongue.

I held him in my mouth for some time, just waiting for anything else to come as a result of the climax. I performed some active meditation concerning the value of the fluids which I had received over the course of the series of encounters. His cock was still available to me after a period of lengthly reflection, and so I used his shaft as an instrument to gather sperm and deposit it within my mouth. By the time I had completely wiped his fertile explosions from on top of my body, and thoroughly sucked his cock clean, he was hard again.

Laughing to myself, I turned over and stuck my ass in the air. The plants accommodated me, and I began to rub my clit on the vine which had implanted itself deep within the shifter's throat. I sucked him off once more; this time in some sort of bizarre, sixty-nine maneuver. The second climax was nothing spectacular, but I did get a few more drops of fluid; it was hardly a mouthful, but at least it was something. Honestly, I think I got more love from the plant than from him, in spite of his generous donations.

When he had given all that he could, I let myself drop to the forest floor once more; my body growing more alert and responsive with each ounce of shifter seed that I took into my body. I felt more wild, and the sensation was incredible. I was on the prowl, and in due course, I looked at the last shifter in line to receive the ecstasy of my touch; it was my Finder.

All magic which had acted as a flourish to my physical being took on an entirely unconscious aspect. The environment became strange, as flowers which had existed previously turned into butterflies, and back into flowers once more; migratory in their root placement. Dryads and nymphs from trees appeared to be surrounding the two of us, watching eagerly from knots in the living wood in which they dwelled. The forest floor grew rich tufts of moss, complete with tiny flowers, and ornate with drops of dew. Insects flurried about in unison, and hummingbirds came down to feast on the insects, while performing mating rituals of their own. The vines which had been acting as a gag for my finder released themselves, and still he was silent; staring at me in an anguished gaze; full of desire.

"Finder, love, is that your name?" I asked.

He did not reply, but he did not shun me either. The non-verbal communication informed me that names were not necessary in this space, and though he did technically find me, there were many other names which he went by besides "Finder".

"I see that you are not defined exclusively by your relationship to me," I replied. "That is good."

My hand waved in an arc to the clearing in which I stood.

"As you can see, I am not defined exclusively by my relationship to you either," I stated, with calm assurance. "But that does not mean that I am ungrateful for the way that you treated me. You were kind, and strong. When you did not yield, I was better for the experience. In short, Finder, You know how to please a woman."

A self-reflective smirk flashed across his face. The expression was not an insult, I was intuitive enough to understand that much.

"Perhaps you know something I do not." I stated out loud; the statement was more of a musing than a question.

"Very well," I decided. "Come to me lover, and share with me the secrets of your body."

The vines descended slowly, like some theatrical spectacle where a cultural object of prime desire and focus is lowered gracefully from on high, to a place where it can be accessible to the masses. I realized that the power dynamic had changed, because I was not seeking to take something from this one. I wanted both; to give and to receive. The realization caught me off guard momentarily, as I was unsure of what it meant.
The persona I had been developing over the past five partners no longer seemed to be applicable.

"Where is the malice left to be directed toward this one?" I asked myself. "Nowhere."

I wanted nothing more than to hold his body, and take in his essence; this was the closest thing to love that I imagined such a sexually instrumental persona might be able to comprehend. The vines loosened, and the Finder hung with legs spread wide; an exposed man on a swing of vegetation, presenting his body for my perusal.

Reaching my hand forward, I grasped a hold of his testicles; rubbing them gently in my palm. Their weight was heavy, as he too had been stimulated by the vine and was swollen with anticipation. A fire burned within my abdomen and the light of the flames seemed to grow higher within my body until it was reflected in his eyes. His penis seemed to be the perfect object of desire. The one thing that I needed in order to complete the experience of this moment.

I tried to shake off the overwhelming motion toward coupling with him once more. To frame the mind in such a way where the physical body of another person is the sole gratifying factor within one's life is the sexual description of co-dependency; I knew that. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.

"I am woman," I said to myself. "I am whole, and I am sharing in my wholeness."

After an exhale, my paradigm modified itself to reflect my mantra. The penis stood at attention, in the form of a physical gift. I permitted my finger to trace upward, along the underside of the shaft, pausing just before the head to stroke a particularly dense nerve center. All other fingertips found their way to his body, and I leaned forward, close between his legs; letting the warmth of my breath dispense itself toward the sensitive skin of his sex. I closed my eyes, and leaned forward, prepared to delight in the final stage of my overt sexual possession, when my feet were dragged out from under me, and my face fell firmly into the forest floor.

Immediately, I felt a finger penetrate my anus, and press my spine down into the ground. Two more hands pulled at either side of my mouth so I was forced to take in a mouth full of the same moss which had heralded my approach to the Finder. The finger in my ass closed its hand and pulled on my body, lifting my pelvis up into the air. Another hand grabbed my hair, and yanked my head backward with a fury that could have only been appropriate, given my demonstration of predatory behavior.

In front of my eyes, in a squatted figure, was the face of a wild woman; her face painted with natural dyes of the forest, and her eyes completely black. Her teeth included sharper canines than usual, but the rest appeared to be omnivorous in nature. I felt a hand massage my left temple, and the woman's face appeared to be expressive of both sadness, and duty; as though she was a doctor, and I was a patient who needed treatment.