The Beast Within
The glow from the pregnant moon permeated the sky, though it had yet to make its appearance above the rocky horizon. The woman looked at her cell phone. Nine minutes until moonrise. Plenty of time.
She turned the device off and placed it on a shelf. She couldn’t afford any distractions tonight. Everything was in place, but she must remain alert. There was danger in the lightening sky. A primal danger, flooding the clouds with brilliance. A danger as old as time, but tonight she was in control.
The woman tested the locks on the front door, then wandered through the familiar winding darkness of her home to check the kitchen door. It, too, was locked. Good.
The feral smell of blood and animal fear tickled her nose. She lifted the tin washtub by the handles and turned to the open cellar door. It was heavy. She was grateful for the lack of light. Knowing what was in the tub was bad enough. Smelling it was difficult. She didn’t want to see it.
Descending the stairs into the basement, stepping carefully in the darkness, she took stock of the situation. The air in the room was stifling. Good, she thought, the hotter the better.
The floor had been cleared of all debris and meticulously washed. The only window, high on the east wall, had also been washed, so there would be no obstruction when the moon rose, flooding the basement with light.
The outfit, painstakingly crafted from wolf skins, hung on the rail at the foot of the stairs. Her hand brushed the pelt as she passed it and a shiver ran through her. Soon. Very soon.
The sound of rustling chains broke the silence.
“Luna? Is it almost time?” A man’s voice, grave and somewhat worried.
Luna tried to sound enthusiastic. “Almost, Larry my love.”
She placed the washtub in the pre-designated place.
“I’ve been watching the sky get brighter,” Larry said. “Are you sure these chains will be enough?”
“I’ve done my research.” Luna stood on her toes to peer out the window. The edges of the mountain were sharp against the brightness beyond. “Everything is ready.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The woman took a deep breath, her gaze intent on the sliver of light slicing upward through the darkness. It was time.
Luna turned and removed her bathrobe, folding it neatly and laying it on the washing machine, under the window. She stepped out of her sandals and pushed them close to the machine, then padded over to the pelt hanging from the rail.
A moan escaped the man in the corner. Luna ignored it, lifting the pelt and stepping into the tailored leggings, then pulling it up to cover her shoulders as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. A zipper enabled her to completely encase herself in the musky pelt. The skin was prickly and rough against her soft skin. A small price to pay, she told herself.
Light stabbed through the high window and Larry exhaled a sigh, followed by a long drawn out groan. “OH. GOOOOOOOOOODS!” The words became a guttural roar, rising up into a howl.
The chains rattled as he shifted and a guttural wail of pain rose up, punctuated by the disquieting sound of bones cracking and the meaty pop and snap of muscles twisting. It seemed no sooner had the transformation begun than it was over. Nothing like the long, drawn out episodes in cinematic fictions.
Luna turned to look at the monstrosity towering over her and tried to suppress a shudder. He was magnificent. The creature dropped to all fours, its back bristling and yellow eyes glittering in the moonlight. A snarl escaped black lips as it lunged at her, the chains attached to the iron collar yanking it back. Luna stood her ground.
Moment of truth, she thought. Swallowing hard, Luna lifted the small bottle she had ordered from the internet and cracked it open. Instantly the wolf’s ears pricked up as the molecules hit the air. A whine escaped its upturned face.
Satisfied, the woman began rubbing the Wolf Matrix into her nether regions, conveniently left exposed by the dead woman who had created the outfit for her. The wolf whined again, straining at the chains to reach her as the heat urine filled its senses.
Licking her dry lips, Luna turned and, bending slightly at the waist, backed up until she could feel the beast’s hot breath between her legs. The wolf’s muzzle nudged her and a darting tongue tentatively explored the area. The wolf whined and began lapping at her soft, pink interior. She gasped and dropped to all fours, backing up slowly.
The beast stepped back, nuzzling and nipping at her hindquarters. Luna flinched as canines caught the soft flesh beneath the pelt. Then the wolf was upon her, rising up to wrap its front legs around her roughly and position her, so that it could enter.
The wolf’s penis was larger than she expected it to be. Much larger than her husband’s human member. She braced herself as the wolf found her wet entrance and pushed inside. She gasped. It began rutting, biting roughly at the padded neck and upper back of the costume, just as she had expected it to. Bending her elbows, she lowered her face to the floor and let the wolf do its business. A thrill went through her. It was working!
Not unexpectedly, warmth began to spread outward from between her legs as the wolf’s cock plunged in and out of her. The rough bristles of the pelt flicked and tickled at her clit and it wasn’t long before she felt an orgasm building.
The wolf growled and she felt its cock expand inside her. She gasped at the fullness and it tipped her over the edge.
Luna was wracked with intense waves of pleasure that started in her crotch and radiated upward to flood her brain. She moaned loudly, gasping and fighting to keep her knees from buckling under the weight.
The wolf, aware of her excitement, pumped harder and its nipping became more playful. It bit and chewed at her neck padding, pulling fur loose. Her breath quickened into gasps and her insides began to throb from the punishment.
Another climax caught her unaware and she screamed. Feverishly the wolf clawed at her sides, snagging and ripping the costume. Panic rose up in Luna.
She flinched as the scimitar-like claws on one huge paw raked her naked flesh. The pain followed and she gasped, trying to crawl away, but found she was held fast by the expanding base of the wolf cock. Her vision began to swim. The wolf twisted away, regaining its feet and dragging her back, unable to disengage from the copulatory tie.
Luna felt her consciousness slipping away and hoped that the washtub containing her bloody offering was within easy reach. The beast would require nourishment after expending so much energy.
The last thing she heard as darkness overtook her was the high, mournful howl of the wolf as it ejaculated deep inside her.
* * *
Luna winced as her husband dabbed at the edges of the wounds on her side and across her back with the antiseptic. Some were deep and the glisten of white bone peered through at him wetly. Probably in need of stitches. He said as much.
She smiled and shook her head. “It will heal.”
“You’re sure?” Larry’s voice was low, incriminating, worried. The unspoken words: How could you let me do this to you?
“It was necessary, my love.”
She winced as a stab of pain reminded her of the throbbing in her battered vagina.
“It breaks my heart to see you like this.”
“I know.” Luna grit her teeth as the antiseptic stung its way into torn flesh.
The wounds would heal. And quickly if her resources were correct. The wound of a werewolf was a magical thing. In a few days it would appear as though nothing had occurred. Not so much as a scar. Due in large part to the change taking place within her belly, of course.
“Tell me again, why it was so important that I impregnate you in my beast form.”
“Because, my love, it is not enough merely to love the man. One must also love the beast inside him. From this a legacy may be born.”
“More like me.” It was more a statement than a question.
“Better. Stronger. More pure. But much like you, yes.”
“And you’re sure it worked?”
“A small litter. Three or four. They’re still sorting, but I will know for sure in a few days.”
Larry gently kissed Luna’s torn and bruised back.
“I love you, Mrs. Talbot,” he whispered, and the moonlit fear that lived inside him stretched, sloughing off a little of itself in the process.
* * *
© David Salcido, 2017. Registered with the Library of Congress and the Writers Guild of America. All rights reserved.