Fire & Flesh

by Kerri Carr

  He pulled out, flipped me over and nailed me. He mauled my breasts as we went at it like animals. I had my legs wrapped around his thighs and was clutching his ass, pulling him deeper and deeper into me.

  It was a new kind of bliss as we wrestled and thrashed like two creatures wallowing in raw, filthy driving sex and when I came I clutched my near maniac lover and drove myself deep and fast and the waves of bliss were mountainous.

  *****

  He was still in me. He was still hard and the slime soaked the air with a wonderful aroma. He was kissing me tenderly and licking my sweat. He was treating me like a lover, so I hated myself for what I was doing. But, then, I have hated myself before.

  I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. His hairy chest mashed against my breasts and that was so – so...I kissed him as a lover and I wiggled my thighs. He was still alive inside of me and it was so squishy and sloppy in there. I giggled. He breathed long and hard gazing at me.

  “You are amazing,” I said running my fingers through his hair.

  He just smiled.

  “You – ohh,” I sighed.

  He moved and in that motion he stirred inside. Nerve-endings that had exploded in bliss were awake and alive again. I tightened my pussy and he tightened his body. I pulled him to me and kissed him. He kissed back as one in rapture.

  “You got stamina,” I said rolling my wall muscles around him.

  “I try to stay healthy,” he said.

  “You do that good. So how does a strong, healthy werewolf like you manage to get enslaved?”

  He began slowly thrusting again. I was so sopping but his manhood was so thick and warm and alive. I wiggled to take him and he filled me.

  “Why does it matter?” he asked.

  “Because I need to know – ohhh.”

  “What do you need to know?”

  “Ohhhhhh,” I moaned as we held and loved softly.

  “You are so beautiful Eileen.”

  “Ohhhh,” I gasped “How is a werewolf enslaved?”

  “Like any man,” he said driving faster.

  “So can I enslave you?”

  “You already have.”

  “That’s right,” I said looking him straight in the eyes, “so answer me.”

  “This isn’t fair,” he said as he thrust, “you’re taking advantage of me.”

  “I am.”

  I relaxed my muscles. I felt him tremble. I reached under and toyed with his danglers, tickling them with the tips of my nails. He moaned. I played. I stayed loose inside and he began driving faster. I tightened a little and he gasped, then I relaxed and he sighed.

  “Please,” he said, “please don’t do this.”

  “I need to know.”

  I pulled away and wrapped my forked tongue around his man-nip. The little thing stiffened like a girl’s as I grabbed and pulled. He was gritting his teeth as he thrust. I teased him tightening and then relaxing. I had him so off balance.

  “You bitch,” he groaned.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.” I said as my walls grabbed him hard.

  “Ohhhhhhhggnnnn.”

  It was easy. I kept him on the edge until he agreed to tell me everything. Then I let him have it. His climax was so long and powerful that as he shuddered in orgasm I could feel the wolf straining against his flesh. And after he caught his breath he actually snarled at me.

  “You gave me your word,” I said.

  “You used me,” he said. “I call you beautiful and you use me.”

  “Children are in danger,” I said, “and one child is in real danger, so start talking.”

  It began when he was eighteen years old and an acolyte to a high priest in the Feri Tradition, a coven of witches and warlocks who receive their power through sexual mysticism. He was young, strong, fit and very well endowed, so he became popular. But he got entangled in a love triangle and, in a jealous rage, a priestess cursed him. He fled.

  At first he would morph as a result of strong emotions, mostly when angry and always during sex. As his arousal would mount, so would his animal. That meant a life of celibacy. But he found a Wiccan witch who was kind to him and taught him to control his wolf.

  “She was the first woman who I could make love with in years,” he said.

  “Did you fall in love?”

  “A little. But she was older and she had a partner, and that can never be for me.”

  His eyes fluttered and he looked away. Something in me stirred and I wanted to reach out to him somehow. But at that moment all I could was to stroke his furrowed brow.

  Part of his control was the need to stay in impeccable shape; no drugs, no alcohol and regular exercise. He was a runner and he liked the Arboretum trails in winter. Particularly since a stunning raven-haired vixen named Virginia had taken to those trails too. They jogged often together. They talked. Talk turned into coffee at her house nearby and coffee led to sex.

  Then one afternoon as they lay in her bed in the afterglow she confronted him. She told him that she was a Wiccan Priestess and that she could sense the animal in him, particularly in their most intimate moments. She told him about wanting to study his aura. She claimed that she might be able to release him from his curse.

  “And you believed her,” I said.

  “I would have believed the devil himself.”

  She tricked him into shifting, collared him and bewitched him.

  “She is no Wiccan,” I said.

  “That’s true, but I don’t know what she is.”

  “Probably a rogue,” I said. “But what about the children?”

  “She used me to snare them,” he said. “She taught me a spell that would entrance them. I would take them to her and she would bring them into her turret-room. What she did with them I don’t know, but when she would always them back the disappointment on her face was bitter. Then I’d leave the child somewhere they could be found.”

  “You told me that you were in the woods protecting,” I said. “Protecting from what?”

  “Oddly enough, animals.”

  “Animals?”

  “Their spirits somehow interfere with her. I honestly don’t know.”

  “But your presence was enough,” I said nodding. “But why children?”

  “They’re virgins.”

  “Boys or girls?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said.

  “I could be a virgin,” I said.

  *****

  “You’re insane,” he said.

  “Probably.”

  The afternoon was warm as we sat naked by my pool. We had taken a dip to wash off, played a little and then lay on loungers soaking the sun. He held my hand as I told him my plan.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked, “ring her doorbell?”

  “Might be just that simple,” I said. “But you said that she likes to jog. So she’s running, she finds a little girl lost on the trails. She takes the girl home to call her momma. And then --?”

  “She’ll spot you in an instant.”

  “I’m very good.”

  “And when she discovers your deception?”

  “I can handle myself,” I said. “I handled you on the trail that night.”

  “I was tired and hungry. She fed me just enough to barely keep me alive.”

  “She can’t shift. I could be all over her like a tiger, or even a werewolf.”

  “She’s a witch,” he said. “She has power.”

  “I’ve tangled with warlocks—“

  “Women are wily,” he said, gripping my hand and looking right into my eyes. “She’ll charm you and when she realizes what you’re up to she will not be pleased. She is not a very nice person. Please don’t do this.”

  “Why are you afraid for me?” I asked staring right back into his eyes.

  He said nothing, but I knew that look. I didn’t know what to think. The woman in me saw in those green eyes something so sad and so desperate. I could almost feel his heart throbbing. My own heart moved a li
ttle, but I didn’t want to admit it. The reporter in me took over.

  “Look,” I said, “by this time tomorrow the city is going to be flooded with pics of the two of us wrestling. Then people are going to flock to the Arboretum looking for werewolves. And that’s going to force Virginia to do something, maybe something desperate and—“

  Just then my phone rang. I grabbed the chance to escape and ran to answer. It was Brandy. She told me to check the headlines. My heart stopped. I brought my phone to Donovan and showed him the headline.

  Ten Year Old Girl Missing From Zoo.

  “What time does she go jogging?” I asked.

  ***

  She ran in the evening after work. I had bought a pretty little floral print sundress. Donovan drove. I couldn’t. I was all of four-foot-seven and my skinny legs dangled off the passenger seat. We pulled into the Arboretum parking lot. He took my hand like my daddy and we walked down the Effigy Trail. We were deep in the woods and the sun was low.

  “If you are not back here in three hours,” he said, “I’m coming for you.”

  “Cool,” I said. “I have a hero. I’d kiss you but . . .”

  He shook his head and disappeared into the woods. I walked the trail deeper. I felt her before I saw her. I stood stock still, feeling frightened. She rounded the bend and I gazed hopefully up at her.

  Donovan was right, she was a stunner. She was tall and curvaceous with breasts that would attract even me. She wore black shorts and a jogging bra that looked like they had been sprayed on her. Her face was lean and sculpted in sharp lines. Her nose was almost pointed, her lips were thin and her eyebrows like pencil lines framing deep, sultry brown eyes. She wore her black hair up in a tight bun.

  I recognized her immediately. This was big.

  She smiled and nodded and jogged past. I looked at her and sniffled a little. She slowed, stopped and turned. Her face brightened as she walked to me with a smile. She crouched down and looked me in the eyes a moment before she spoke.

  “Little girl,” she said softly, “are you alright.”

  I said nothing.

  “Are you lost?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Eileen.”

  “Well Eileen, is your mother or father around?”

  “My -- my daddy,” I said. “We were looking for frogs and I found one and chased it in the woods and now I don’t know where he is.”

  “Does your daddy have a cell-phone?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you know his number?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then it’s simple,” she smiled. “I live near her, so you can come to my house and we can call him. I bet he’s so worried. That sound okay?”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s okay Eileen,” she smiled taking my hand. “My name is Ginny. We can have some cookies while we wait for your daddy.”

  “Okay.”

  She asked me about school as we walked. I made up a bunch of stuff, like an excited little girl. Her house was on Balden Drive, a very wealthy neighborhood with a few mansion-like houses and acres of wooded land between. Very lonely. Her house was two stories and sprawling with a tall turret. We went in by the back door and she had a spread- tennis court, swimming pool and a putting green. Her kitchen was huge, bright and airy.

  “This is nice,” I said.

  “Stupid bitch,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I can smell him on you.”

  And then my head exploded.

  *****

  When I woke the back of my head throbbed. She must have nailed me with a frying pan or something. I never saw it coming. The room was dimly lit and cool. Looking around I saw it was a weird cross between a medical laboratory and a dungeon.

  I was naked and strapped down on a gurney. My shoulders and breasts were sore and there were red marks around my waist and thighs.

  “It was actually fascinating to watch,” the woman said. “The moment you hit the floor your body shifted to normal. Your dress and panties didn’t like that.”

  “I know you,” I said. “Virginia Tanner, city Councilwoman.”

  “And I know you, Eileen Morgan,” she smiled. “And now I know how you have managed to get all those juicy stories for that rag. You’re a shape-shifter.”

  “I am,” I said, “let me show you.”

  I thought I’d be a werewolf, just to bring things full circle. I took a breath and began my chant and – and nothing happened. I tried again. Not even a twinge.

  “It’s called Supresus,” she said, “a charming little spell that keeps folk like you in their place.”

  I started to get scared.

  “Okay,” I said. “All I want is that little girl.”

  “She’s already gone. She’s useless to me.”

  “What do you want these children for?”

  “That’s none of your business,” she snapped.

  “Look, I know what I’m up against. A woman in your position can’t keep me around long. So why can’t a dead girl know what she died for?”

  The room rang with her silvery laughter.

  “Oh, but darling girl,” she said, “I can keep you around for a very long time. I can think of all sorts of ways to have fun with such a beautiful woman. Like this.”

  She took my nipple between her nails and began to squeeze. Hard. I shrieked.

  “You’re a fucking sadist,” I said.

  “Yes,” she smiled batting her eyes. “But it’s always so much more fun when there’s a real goal involved. So tell me, where is he?”

  “Where is ggyyyaaaaaahhhh!!”

  I thought she’d pull it off.

  “I don’t know!” I shrieked. “I haven’t seen him since that night!”

  “Liar.”

  She let me go but her hand began to creep down my belly.

  “Honest,” I said. “I haven’t seen him since the cops took him.”

  “Mmmm,” she said stroking my bush. “Keep lying.”

  I screamed as she grabbed my clit. I thrashed in my bonds and she laughed and laughed. Then, with a final pinch, she strolled away out of my sight. I lay there in real fear. I was helpless and powerless and I wondered how much I could take before my hero crashed in. Ginny returned with several small, silver toothy clips dangling from delicate chains.

  “Now,” she sighed, “where shall we start?”

  Suddenly the door burst open and for a moment I thought that it was Donovan. But it was a woman’s voice crying,

  “Ginny! Ginny I found her! I found her!”

  “Tabitha,” Ginny cried. “What are you doing out of your chamber?”

  “Look! Look!”

  Tabitha was petite beauty of a blonde. She wore a floor length white silk night-gown that clung to her shapely form. Her eyes were a deep blue and her face so delicate almost elfin, and yet it looked as though her creamy skin was crisscrossed with faint dark lines as if her skin were cracking. She held a crystal ball in her slender trembling fingers. Floating inside was the face of a wide-eyed, innocent, young, red-headed girl. She looked half frightened.

  “Tabitha are you certain?”

  “Absolutely. This is the one.”

  “Can you draw her to us?”

  “I can barely hold her,” Tabitha said. “My strength . . .”

  I stared at the ball and memorized the face.

  “Darling, I’m losing her,” Tabatha said.

  Then she groaned and slumped, nearly dropping the ball. Ginny caught her and carried her to a chair.

  “I saw her, Ginny,” I said. “I saw that girl and I can find her for you if you let me go.”

  “I let you go,” she said, “and you go to the police.”

  “Darling,” Tabatha said, “who is she?”

  “Just some snoopy reporter.”

  “She’s been with the wolf. She’s made love with him.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said.

  “Tabatha is neve
r wrong,” Ginny said.

  “Darling,” Tabatha said, “was that her screaming?”

  “Yes, love.”

  Tabatha smiled. She took a deep breath and walked over to me. I cringed in my bonds. She placed her hands on my temples and sighed.

  “Oh darling, she’s a good one,” she said. “Oh yes. I can feed from her, she is such a good one.”

  “Then feed you will, my love.”

  And so my torment began and all I will say is that she was a sadistic bitch and Tabatha somehow drew strength from my torture. It was as though I would scream and she would inhale my pain. Ginny was slow and thorough. She did no damage and she kept grilling me about Donovan. I knew that as long as her lover was relishing in my agony there would be no let up, so I told her nothing. I just screamed and screamed.

  Then, in the middle of a particularly vicious lash of a whip, Tabatha, herself, wailed and leapt back in fear.

  “He’s here!” she cried. “The wolf is here!”

  The whipping stopped. I heard crashing sounds from above and my heart dared to hope. Then Donovan burst through the door all in a rage as his hideous wolf form. Tabatha shrieked and Ginny lashed at him with the whip. He grabbed the thong and yanked it out of her grip. Then he slashed at my bonds with his claws and I was free.

  I leapt to my feet and ran out of the way. Ginny flung something like a fireball at Donovan and he batted it away. The ball rolled and smoldered against the wall. Donovan leapt at her but she held out her hand and he slammed to the floor. From her fingertips threads of lightening flashed and wrapped him like an electric blue net. He was writhing and roaring. I ran and grabbed Tabatha, digging my nails at her throat. She felt like she was burning with fever.

  “Enough!” I cried. “I’ll rip her throat out!”

  Ginny’s eyes flashed to me. She glared a moment, then shrieked in a strange language and clapped her hands above her head. The room filled with white and then went black. My arms were empty. I collapsed in the burning room.

  *****

  I was in a haze of pain and smoke. I could barely breathe. Donovan’s iron-like arms picked me up and carried me out and away. He was a man again. I remember the cool night air as he ran through the woods. He gently laid me in the back seat of my car. There was still a clip biting my nipple.