Howl & Growl: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set
Page 37
Or so it seemed to be, until at the very end, as the stag slowed and grew weary from the endless wounds. Her Master’s lupine form leaped in upon its back, and tore into its neck. He wrestled the beast to the forest floor until at last he ripped its throat out in a bloody mess.
He didn’t linger over his kill however, but bounded off again. Leaving her to look back remorsefully, and see the form of that proud beast shifting. Shrinking. Into the tall, slender form of an all-too familiar golden wood elf.
Such pain.
She didn’t realize she was still capable of such intense feelings of remorse, and nothing could stop her from releasing that wail of torment. It tortured her body in ways she’d forgotten she could be tortured, and agony screamed through her veins, polluting her mind.
“Why?” she pleaded, and she knew the answer. Because he was a threat.
Because he’d stolen Lhea away from her Master.
But he’d just been trying to do right, to protect those in his lands. He was righteous, and he’d fallen because of her.
Her Master’s growling, beastly voice rose up rough and hard in the night air.
“Nothing and no one will stand in the way of my having you! Any who try to keep you from me will suffer the harshest of fates,” he declared in his anger. The stag turned elven man was nothing but an impediment between having her back.
She’d grown used to his tortures, and even his capture of Fillia, but the death of Balovo was new and raw and twisted her guts.
“No more killing for me,” she pleaded, so desperately.
He growled lowly in response, no words. None were needed, for she knew he’d do it again if he had to. Again and again and again…
~~
Their long escape through the night came to an end as sunrise approached, the expanse of the great woods too much to travel in a single night, even for her Master’s stunning speed. He loped to a slow end, taking them towards a cracked and broken tree stunt that must once have been towering, but was, by their arrival, just a husk.
Her Master’s dark powers brought some semblance of twisted life to it however, as it grew and took shape, forming a hideaway for them.
“Get off and inside,” he commanded her, lowering himself down to the ground once more, so that her slender little faerie form could more easily descend from his back.
Her body felt so strange and disoriented from the lack of sleep, the conflicting emotions. She’d never felt so exhausted, her little body rubbed raw from his fur, from how long they’d rode.
She’d sobbed into him for so long until she was dry of salty tears, but as she obeyed, she looked at him and trembled. It was only the beginning of her punishment. Of her reunion.
She looked away as she entered into that dark stump, her heart as heavy as the rest of her. She longed to see the sun once more, to feel its warmth upon her.
Yet as she did, the sun broke through, and a strange, disturbing sound drew her attention back out towards her Master.
That great, bestial form shifted and he looked to be in pain as his great bulk changed shape. The sounds were horrifying, like breaking bones and ripping sinew, yet he rose up and snarled at the pain.
She watched as that fur she’d just finished crying into receded into his flesh, and he more and more took the form of…
A man?!
It wasn’t the Master she knew, but the great, hulking beast of a human who had come to her the previous day. Towering and brutish, with thick, long blonde hair and a menacing form about him.
It was confusing and disturbing at once, for she felt such a familiar sensation from him; she felt her Master!
She turned and toppled backwards, feeling the rotting wood press into her back, her wings fluttering. She stared at him, disgust and wonder combatting within her, and making her so dizzy. It wasn’t long before her mind started going black, unable to possibly comprehend the horror and confusion of what had just happened.
He wore nothing, not even the furs and leather he’d dressed in back in town, and it left the whole of his crude form on display. All bulging muscle, like none she’d ever seen before. His stomach and chest a series of hard, round lumps, chiselled out of pure muscle, with so much bright, golden hair peppering his chest and running down in a v-shape towards his… his loins.
That mighty sex, so immense, even as it laid dormant, a meaty shaft above two thick, round balls that made even the organ her Master had first taken with seem reasonable by comparison. And that one had been many things, but painfully large topped the list.
With his thick hair draped down around his face and shoulders, he rose up, panting, chest heaving in his nudity as he stepped towards her.
“Who?” she managed, through the smog of her mind, the way her world flipped upside down. He was so familiar. She would have bet anything that he was truly her Master. The only one that could have mutated her soul so badly, warped it from a thing of beauty into the most horrific shadow.
“It is me, my pet,” he said, in that human growl, so full of deep gravel, moving towards her as that obscenely large manhood smacked against his hard, muscled thighs with each step. He cornered her in the stump, his weathered body blocking her in as he descended to his knees and reached out for her fair, delicate frame.
She cowered. It wasn’t him.
And yet, she’d been perfectly willing to believe that the wolf had been, so why did she have such a hard time believing he could be this human?
Perhaps it was simple fear, intimidation from the towering man. Even kneeling he was so proud, so imposing, yet she forced herself to meet his eyes.
“Prove it,” she said with a small pout.
His thick lips crooked into a wry grin, and she could see the appreciation for her caution written upon his face. He reached in, grasping her tiny hip in one of his great hands, the other rose up to touch at her beautiful, pale hair.
“My sweet, pet… you and you alone could withstand the horrors I bestow. From the void I suspended you in, to the torture of looming over my bed, feeling the creepy crawlies of the night run across your pale skin.” At the very recitation of those past experiences, he licked over his lips, and more still… a pungent musk rose on the air, along with its source: his enlarging manhood.
“I took my time with you, Pet, and you were worth the reward for my patience,” he remarked in a rumble, that girthy organ rose up, brushed against her belly as it lifted the hem of her dress. “Having you absent from my halls has been the greatest torture conceivable.”
Yet the memories were conflicted in her mind, and equal source of pleasure and pain. It disgusted her at the same time she felt such a longing for it, her lower lip trembling.
“He wouldn’t have told you that,” she agreed, though still feeling that strange sense of disconnect between the rugged, brutish man and her strong yet beautiful elven Master.
She swallowed hard, looking at him, remembering back to their last, precious time together.
When she’d given him her maidenhood, and done the thing that no faerie did. When she confessed her love.
“I couldn’t come as myself,” he explained in a low, guttural growl. “The minions of my enemies were watching me. Waiting for me to make a move. I had to use a puppet to come rescue you.” His large thumb grazed over her cheek, traced that inky black tear drop. His red-eyed gaze soaked her in, all the more dainty and delicate in his grasp.
“They tried to remove my mark from you, but they only showed how permanent it truly is,” he said in appreciation of her new marks, just before he bent down and pressed those massive pair of lips to her own tiny, delicate little morsels.
Was that what it was that drew her to him?
Or was it his mark, combined with her own? Had they made something new and horrifying in their coupling? Had it connected them in ways neither of them could foresee?
She still loathed what she’d become, what he’d made of her, but she couldn’t deny that she felt incomplete without him, and kissed him back wi
th all the strange slurry of emotions teasing her upon high. He’d been so reserved, so careful and slow with her, building her into his.
He wasn’t beautiful like her Master was in the true flesh, but he was powerful and large, and his hands helped himself to her flesh, groping and feeling out her slender form with such eagerness. His raw brute strength a bit much on her flesh, leaving her a little tender as he squeezed and kneaded her petite chest, her slender thigh.
She was pristine once more, but for those markings upon her cheek. For all the world she looked like an innocent, slender faerie with her slim body and diminutive form as she watched him with such a tremble to her lips.
His hands were so rough against her milky flesh, and they grated at her a bit.
“You look so different,” she said, but it wasn’t just how he looked. It was his eagerness for her as well. He’d been so slow, so cautious with her in the beginning. Never did he take her. She had been the one, coming to him with such need.
And yet now he stroked her and she quivered like a leaf against him.
He was ravenous for her, and if the way he kissed her and felt her up so aggressively wasn’t enough to testify to that, the immense, throbbing bulk of his veiny cock said it all. The thing was as long as her forearm, and much thicker, lined with bulging veins. It prodded at her belly with its bulging, purple crown peeking out of its foreskin.
“I found the love I had always waited for, and she was cruelly stolen from me,” he remarked in a low, breathy husk. “I am gone mad without you,” he said, grasping her so tight, tugging at her diaphanous dress to pry it from her body.
She felt like a doll, a little play thing in a giant’s hand, and she looked at him with her brows tilted up in the middle. She wanted her Master. Her real Master. Not this... brutish body he’d been forced to borrow.
Her breath quickened, though, and she felt that strange, dark temptation bidding her to touch him in return, to display her body to him.
Her dress was so easily pulled away, the fabrics so light and made from soft petals of beautiful flowers. It was as though he were searching for her special bud, peeling it away from her small chest with the little pink tips. Her slim stomach, the bones of her hips.
“You’re too large,” she protested, his massive hands pawing at her.
It was no exaggeration on her part, for her Master’s puppet form was far too big for her in every way. Even in his beautiful elven visage, he could barely squeeze his girth into her tiny slit, and it’d stung and been red for days after. That brutish human would never quite work.
Yet he didn’t stop. Her insatiable Master could no longer contain his enthusiasm for her. The separation having whittled away his patience. Instead he pinned her dainty figure to the ground beneath him, and trailed one of his large, rough hands over her form.
“My beautiful pet,” he husked, twisting his wrist around to squeeze his fingers in between her thighs, to part those milky limbs and touch upon her soft, dainty slit.
She was innocent once more, or at least that holy liquid had burned the evil out of her.
So why did his touch still delight her so? Why did her nipples stiffen to the air, her entire body squirming against his tight hold and wanton petting. Her slender legs parted despite herself, her clear blue eyes staring at him with such raw need and fear, mingling together.
That rough, coarse hand of his kept her legs pried as he began to rub at her little petals. No precise motions there, his fingertip too big to allow for it. He simply mauled her tiny clit and labia as he rubbed at them, his face lunging forward as he kissed at her petite chest and lavished her nipple in his wet kisses before wrapping his lips about one of those pale pink peaks.
Never had he been in such a rush for her. For so long did he torment her, never laying a finger on her body in such a lewd fashion. It wasn’t until he’d teased her to the highest heights that he made love to her, but now that the floodgates had opened, she knew there was no going back.
“Master?” she trembled, her body slickening and hardening against his hungered motions.
“Say you are you mine,” he growled in command as he forced the tip of one of those thick fingers into her, that lone digit a strain upon her narrow canal, stretching her taut about him. He worked it into her, twisted it and sank in deeper, deeper… in and out. All as he kissed over her puffy nipples, then up to her lips to stroke her hair back and gaze into her beautiful eyes.
She let out a low cry as he penetrated her, body arching, but there was no reprieve or escape from the man. All she could do was writhe in vain, like one of his little beasties.
But those words, they were easy to say. They were etched on her soul, with or without his taint, for it transcended everything. Fae love was powerful, and once it was felt, she was quickly finding that it never dissipated.
“I’m yours,” she pleaded with him.
He rewarded her by pumping that digit into her tiny quim all the more, twisting it about as he delved in deep, right to her depths as his knuckle came up to her soft folds. He curled that finger up and teased her most sensitive of areas as he licked his lips, watching her face contort with such relish.
“Yesss, you are,” he growled with excitement, his heavy musk so masculine and strong as his own cock twitched with excitement.
She’d abandoned so much to be with him. Turned her back on friends, allies, the world. All to go back to his prison.
And yet she found she was excited. The prospect of him once more twisting her...
Had he truly dug so deep into the core of her being, twisted her to so many things that she could never be truly cleansed of them?
Her cunny pulsed with her racing heartbeat as his wet tongue lapped against her puffy, stiff nipple atop the small breast. A whimper went through her and she gasped.
Her Master in his bulky guise, moved in closer over her, right before her tiny pink cunny to let that massive column of his cock throb out over her. There was no way it would ever fit within her, she knew that immediately. Yet in his lust he did not care to wait, and wanted to try and make their ill-fitted bodies work.
He licked at his fingers, tasted her honey and pressed that monumental dick down along her side. The monstrous thing stretched up over her belly, contrasted so darkly to her pale flesh as it showed the sheer impossibility of their joining.
“We have to wait,” she said with a shake of her head, feeling it pulse against her flesh. It was impossible, she knew that, and she squirmed with both desire and fear. He wouldn’t try to break her, somehow she knew that. Would just always keep pushing her to her limits, forcing her a little bit further and further.
“When can we go home?” she begged, but she knew the answer. At nightfall.
And that felt like such a long time.
His broad, muscular chest heaved, glistening with a thin sheen of perspiration as he began to rock his hips, feeling the warm, wet feel of her cunny against his dick. He let loose such a low, rumbling groan, and reached down, clutching her two slender legs and lifting them. He squeezed her little thighs around his monstrous dick, and began to saw between them. The sight of that raging, purple crown pushing through her pale limbs so obscene.
He was too enraptured with her feel to answer her question, but then… the feel of that ridged shaft rubbing against her tiny clit did little for her own focus too.
She was so tense, filled with such a sense of wrongness about the whole thing, but she couldn’t stop him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t. Her body sang for him, those sweet, fae moans dancing around his ears and filling their hideaway with her pleasured song.
It made for such a twisted symphony, her beautiful lyrical moans mixed with his harsh, rough groans. He picked up his pace, held her little legs to his chest as he bucked his hips faster, let those thick, cum-laden balls batter her prim little ass.
“I want to feel you quiver, want to hear you scream for your Master!” he bellowed in the hollow of the tree, his voice echoing.
&nb
sp; Her head swam, mind darkening as she gave herself over to him so willingly. Her body was used by him, but not as a tool for his own pleasure. She knew better than that, knew what he truly craved and needed.
He needed her, utterly, and would break her down and build her back up in order to do so. Her cries quickened along with her pulse, those sweet sounds swimming around them so eagerly.
“Master?” she gulped out, that sensation growing from that slick little bud and spreading through her.
He easily wrapped his one thick, meaty forearm around her two legs, keeping them tightly wrapped about his dick and pressed to his hard, tan chest. The other he reached out, that harsh mitt grasped at her chest, fondled her pale, petite tits, squeezed and groped them, nipped her tiny pink nipples between his digits.
That brute her Master possessed let loose a deep, throaty rumble of a groan as he plowed his dick against her. That beastly girth pulsing wildly.
“Yess, cum for me,” he demanded her, feeling her body quiver beneath him.
She was already sent over that brink, her mind spinning with the intense sensations. Everything in her body sang and came alive, her belly fluttered with butterflies, her mind went hazy as her little toes curled and she made the sweetest sounds.
Nothing could compare to the song of her exquisite bliss. It was touched by his manic melodies, but was purer. Softer.
Her Master watched it all through the eyes of that savage, and he delighted in it. Savoured the view of her tiny, pale form writhing beneath his powerful gaze, spasming in such heavenly delights as his ungainly girth rocked between her thighs.
He was a brute, a monstrous savage compared to her, but she knew the beautifully mad man within.
“Good girl,” he rumbled, his dick swelled, pulsated, his own release fast approaching.
With a few final thrusts of his rock hard hips, the bugling purple crown exploded. Thick gouts of human seed shot across her, splattered her flesh, and coated her dainty breasts, even sullied her beautiful face with its seemingly endless flow.