by Unknown
It was different in this tiny rural community. Their closest neighbor was a mile away, and she wouldn't dare to venture down their long driveway once the sun had set. Not even for the mail.
Of course, Mark had offered to show her how to shoot but she was uncomfortable with the idea. Truthfully, she hated guns about as much as she hated the woods. Though she kept that secret locked away with the others.
All my dirty little secrets. A frown creased her face and guilt strained at her eyes. I should have just told him after the first night. But she knew admitting the truth would only make things worse.
She sucked in a deep breath and wiped her eyes before she rose from the couch and set her paperback book on an end table. Her nerves were taut but she steeled her courage. A thrill of fear crept up her spine as she crossed the entranceway to the dining room... for tonight would be the last night with her loving husband.
She braced her hand on the wall and fought to keep her voice from quivering. "Are you coming to bed soon?"
"I'm almost finished with this."
Mark's handsome face tilted downward, his blue eyes hidden behind wire frame glasses as he focused on the pages in front of him: printouts full of chemical formulas and complex equations. And his dark hair was neatly combed back, as if he were still hard at work in the lab.
He lifted one of the papers as he stroked the stubble shadowing his chin. "Give me a minute and I'll be up."
He didn't know the truth. He was blissfully unaware that he'd almost killed her last night, and had led her down a dark, circuitous path to an agonizing decision. If Lacey survived this night, she would quietly leave him tomorrow.
This is not how these stories are supposed to end, she thought, as her mind twisted with anguish.
Images of their wedding tugged at her memory, and tightness threatened to rise up from her chest. She covered her mouth with her hand as she stifled a sniffle.
It had been a casual affair, fun and entirely impromptu, on their trip to Vegas. And it had been so unlike Mark, who was normally sensible and never did anything without eons of planning. But he'd dropped all his reservations in a heartbeat when it came to making her happy.
Of course, her family never quite forgave her—especially when Mark had whisked her away to a small rural town on the other side of the country. It had sounded like the perfect job opportunity at the time: a small, well-funded research project studying anomalies in local wildlife.
But that was before the accident at the lab, before he changed.
Now she could only look forward to moving back home, and her mother's disparaging look accompanied by a flat-voiced, "I told you so." It only hurt more knowing that she could never explain why she left him.
That first night flashed back in her head.
Mark was making love to her from behind and she had moaned as she pressed back against his thrusts. She remembered his cock hitting her deep inside where her nerves hummed, while he reached around to caress her clit. For a moment, she'd closed her eyes, riding the warm wave of pleasure building up in her loins. Then she gasped as a sharp sensation scratched across her belly.
Flinching from the pain, she opened her eyes and tried to look back at him.
In that moment she realized her husband's grunts had turned to rumbling growls. His hand gripped her shoulder, hard, bracing himself as the pace of his thrusts quickened. She saw his fingers in the dim light and his nails were longer, pointed and sharp. New hair had sprouted on his knuckles. Those aren't Mark's hands, she thought with panic.
Her senses misfired with a jolt; her eyes froze as she stared down at the monstrous claws. But she could only brace herself as the creature took her. This has to be a dream. It can't be real.
With a piercing howl, he exploded inside her. Spots flashed behind her eyes as the sound reverberated off the walls of their small bedroom. Her hands clawed at her head, struggling to block out the deafening sound that tore at her eardrums, and her stomach lurched as the bestial scream echoed in her mind.
Then his cry dissipated and she found she was alone on the bed. As she curled up in a ball, sweating and shaking, a cool liquid pooled between her thighs.
Lacey didn't know how much time had passed, or where the monster had gone. The darkness around her was thick and oppressive, primal in a way she'd never known. She could only tremble as the taste of bitter fear spread in her throat.
After an eternity, her rigid muscles unknotted themselves and she finally lifted her head. Groping in the dark, she scrambled into the bathroom and locked the door. Her knuckles tightened as she prayed that the hideous beast wasn't hiding there, waiting behind the shower curtain. But only smooth tile lay inside and she sank to the floor, her heart aching with remorse that she would even think such thoughts of her husband.
She spent that first sleepless night huddled in the bathtub, occasionally hearing scraping and panting from deep in the house. Clutching her grandmother's silver cross to her chest, she prayed he wouldn't break down the door.
In the dawn light she found him, sleeping naked on the couch. And he didn't remember a thing, insisting instead that he'd fallen asleep watching TV. She was ready to write the whole thing off as hallucinations from stress, or an incredibly vivid dream. But she couldn't ignore the single, itchy cut just below her navel.
"I think you should put your work away and come to bed." Lacey forced a brave smile.
In so many ways, Mark was her perfect companion. He was always sincere, attentive to her needs, with just enough of a protective nature to make her smile. Even their differences complemented each other: his unfailing reliability and her adventurous streak. He would have made a great father.
But she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth.
As she braced one hand on the back of a chair, and watched his brow furrow, it took all her strength to keep from breaking down. They were young, in love with each other, and they'd moved to an idyllic location, with plans to start a family. She blinked back the dampness at the corners of her eyes as their future crumbled before her, like a cruel joke of the heavens. There has to be some way we can make this work.
"Sure, honey." Mark smiled up at her with affection.
He quickly finished sketching a cartoonish drawing of laboratory equipment in his notebook—flasks and beakers connected with tubing—and set his pen on the table. Then he removed his glasses and his expression took on a serious cast.
"Are you all right?"
He stood and approached her. Tenderly, he placed his firm hand on her upper arm and searched her eyes with concern.
Lacey tried to meet his questioning look, but she faltered and her gaze dropped to the floor.
"You're trembling. Are you sick?"
An unspoken question hung on his words. They'd been trying to get pregnant for the past couple months—since they'd moved. Oh no, he doesn't think... She gave him a wan smile and slight shake of her head.
"I've been feeling a little off, but I'm fine right now. It's probably just stress." She self-consciously smoothed her black dress with her hands.
He continued to study her with his eyes narrowed and his head slightly cocked.
She swallowed and glanced up at him. "I'm fine. Really."
Her voice sounded hollow, even to her, and from the perplexed look on his face, she was sure that Mark heard it too. He might think she was stressed by the move and being so far from her family. Or that she was anxious about their struggle to conceive. If only he knew the truth. But the truth was a viper, coiled in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't acknowledge it, lest it poison both of them.
I don't want to rush this but there's little time left.
Judging by the last couple of nights, his changes came around midnight, and the hour was drawing uncomfortably close. By now he should be feeling bolder, stronger, the first stages of the metamorphosis.
Hesitantly, she placed her hand against his muscular chest. When she felt the familiar warmth of his skin through his dress shirt, she kissed
him on the cheek. "Come on, I want you to ravage me." She smiled coyly, choking the anxiety with her growing excitement.
He blinked. Then he wrapped his arms around her like a warm, comforting blanket.
"Ravage?" He asked quizzically. "I thought I was more of a gentle lover."
He laughed that beautiful laugh that she so dearly adored. It allowed her to relax enough to imagine things were normal again. She pretended that he was only expanding her tastes in bed—that this would be one of many more nights together.
As they entered their bedroom, she could clearly see the scratches he'd left on the door.
When he'd found her looking worriedly at them earlier that morning, he'd walked up and patted her on the ass. But he hadn't noticed that they were new.
"The previous owners must have had a big dog." He lifted her chin and kissed her lips. "I can fix it this weekend."
Lacey had merely smiled and nodded.
She had been lucky the first time, but last night he attacked her. He'd changed before she was prepared and had lunged. She kicked her knee up at the last second, purely by reflex, catching him off-guard before his teeth could sink into her throat.
During the few seconds he lay dazed, she dashed from the room and slammed the door shut. He banged against the walls, clawed at the solid wood, and howled with fury. After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped thrashing and simply paced the room. Eventually, she leaned her head against the solid wood, listening to her husband snarl on the other side as she clutched the doorknob.
Lacey shook the memory away and kicked off her black loafers as she stared at Mark.
Her pulse quickened as he tugged the tie from around his neck. Despite her anxiety, she loved his charming smile. His dark hair was getting unruly, breaking free of its styling and playing across his proud brow, just above his ocean-blue eyes. A light five o'clock shadow framed his perfectly full, bitable lips. His robust, broad shoulders flexed as he removed his dress shirt.
As she watched him undress she felt a tingling in her crotch, and a wetness between her legs. I'm going to enjoy this last time, she thought, licking her lips. Midnight be damned!
He unbuckled his pants and slid them down his muscular thighs. "I should take a shower. It was a long day at—"
"No!" Lacey cried out, then bit her lip as fear crept into her chest.
Mark paused, surprised, as he looked over his shoulder. He had bent down to step out of his pants, giving her a great view of his tight ass.
"I want—" She swallowed, regaining her composure. "I want to smell you. Your manliness. I like how you are. Right now."
His piercing blue eyes examined her, conflict splashing across his face. He's suspicious. She'd always been a terrible liar.
"Are you sure you're—"
He was halfway through his question when she reached down, hooked her thumbs in her panties and dropped them to the ground. She lay back on the bed, pulling the hem of her dress up to her chest.
His eyes locked on her pale, smooth legs and tracked all the way up to her neatly trimmed pussy.
"I need to be serviced by my handyman," she ordered, playfully. It was the game they used to indulge in. He would dress up in coveralls then ring the doorbell while she acted like the lonely housewife. Of course they'd always ruin the moment by laughing and just end up naked before they could get into their roles.
"Yes ma'am!" Mark piped, kicking his pants and socks off. Lacey exhaled the breath she'd been holding, relieved that humor had returned to his voice. She had been dangerously close to giving up and confessing the whole ordeal to him.
Mark was a rational man: precise, objective, some might even say skeptical. He had little interest in superstition nor any regard for tales of the paranormal. Even religion was of little concern to him, though he'd always been gracious about her own beliefs.
The truth would shatter him—if he believed it. And if he didn't, he would assume she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Either way, she was trapped. It would lead to hostility between them, and meanwhile he would continue changing into a monster.
No, she couldn't tell him. But she could make love to him.
Lacey sighed as he grabbed her knees and gently parted them. Holding her open, he kissed the inside of her leg. He pulled on the delicate skin with his lips while he lightly sucked. His tongue traced upwards, caressing her as shivers danced down her spine. She bit her lip, wanting to grab his head and pull his mouth to her unattended wetness.
Then she gasped as his tongue reached the joint where her inner thigh met her pelvis, drifting over the soft area next to her aching lips.
He sucked at the tender skin there and she spread her legs wider, inviting him further in. His mouth slowly migrated over to a swollen fold, which he trapped with his lips, sucking and kissing, pulling at her flesh. An involuntary gasp caught her off-guard as her body responded. She was soaking wet and wanted to be filled, but he was merciless, teasing her.
Mark was a wonderful lover in all regards. During their long courtship he had learned exactly how to please her.
Although Lacey would never complain, their coupling had become routine, without variation. Now his oral technique was more daring: hasty, sloppy, hungry. His motion was reckless, and a flutter of pleasure surged through her veins.
It might be too late, she thought. But she pushed the brief panic aside. Instead, she rolled her shoulders back on the mattress and squirmed her hips to the silken touch of his mouth.
The tip of his tongue ran up and down her folds, then flicked at her clit. He wrapped the knob of flesh in his mouth and sucked hard, while continuing to stroke with his tongue. A sharp wave of intensity forked through her nerves. Lacey's body twitched and writhed, the electric flood of pleasure having no other outlet. She whimpered loudly, willing the jolting sensation to stop and pleading for it to never end.
When she could stand no more, he released her and moved his tongue down to her opening. Lacey gasped as he plunged in, pushing her open, stretching her pussy to accommodate the thickness of the muscle. It flicked and wiggled inside her. "Oh my God," she whispered at the feeling. This is the first time he's ever done this.
Mark withdrew from her pussy slowly, lapping and tickling at her lips, then he slipped his tongue down to her rear entrance. She squeaked and her body went rigid at the alien sensation. He's never done that before!
As he licked and pushed at the tight hole, her pelvic muscles clenched and her back arched from the tension. She could feel the tip slipping in as it wiggled, parting her forbidden entrance. Her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and bliss as Mark's tongue slowly made its way into her ass. The shame of being violated was quickly swallowed by the excitement. It was strange and new, but it felt so good.
Heat pumped in her bloodstream with a new wave of arousal. Her cream trickled down to his mouth, the wetness aiding his probing. He pushed deeper, wiggling, hungry to invade her. His tongue curled into her, stretching her hole as she moaned.
He made a wild sound that was almost a growl. She tensed up. Oh God, please give us more time!
He withdrew his tongue and stood abruptly. She quickly pulled her legs together and tensed, a blush creeping up her cheeks as the wetness cooled on her rear.
But when she glanced up, he was merely walking to the light switch, his back in full view. In the brief moment before the room plunged into darkness, she noticed a shadow of thick hair across his shoulder blades. Her body lurched in the shadows as she held back a sob. It's already too late.
"Are you ready to be ravaged?" He asked courteously as he climbed over her.
With one strong hand, he pulled her dress up over her head, and tossed the cloth aside. He still retained his normal voice, and his normal charm.
In that moment, she stood at the crossroads of her conscience, but she knew in her heart that there was only a single path forward. He was her husband, her lover. And her own fears were insignificant next to that fact. She wanted him to take her, whether he
was a monster or not.
With a final thought, she surrendered to him. Let him come, as he is, as he will be. I could never leave this man.
"Yes." She said with new confidence. "Ravage me."
He grabbed her legs, roughly this time, and pulled them up and apart. With his hands gripped under her knees, he knelt over her, his member brushing against her wet lips. Her hips gyrated against his hardness and she exhaled in a rush.
The head of his cock slipped down and entered her pussy, pushing against her walls, filling her with his girth. He groaned as he slipped in, then released his hold on her legs to greedily kiss her.
He was untamed, crushing his lips to hers, plunging his tongue into her yearning mouth. He held her with his weight; his shaft impaled her, trapping her, to keep her from fleeing. But she had already yielded to him. She pushed back against him, swallowing his hunger, raking her nails through the coarse hair on his back.
He slid halfway out, then plunged back into her with a wicked thrust. His breath escaped in a guttural grunt, and his teeth closed on her lip. She gasped as she tasted a metallic pinprick of blood. But it quickly faded to the back of her mind.
The pain was intoxicating. She relished it, just as she relished his hips hammering against her. She whimpered as his pelvis pounded her mound, sending blooms of tingling pleasure through her body.
As he roughly invaded her, he licked the sensitive skin of her neck. His teeth grazed her skin and her pulse quickened, as anxiety mixed with arousal.
Lacey let her head fall back, offering him more, as his thrusting lulled her into a state of ecstasy. He opened his mouth around her throat and gently closed his jaw, putting delicate pressure on her airway.
With a deep animal groan, he held her there as he thrust, forcing her to submit. She felt faint, helpless, and completely at his mercy.
Then he released her neck; his heavy breath chilling the saliva on her skin as she gasped for air.