Maryse threw her hair back. “It doesn’t matter.”
“We can...I mean, when this blows over, if you like? We can hang out...some place calm? Without anyone else?”
“It depends.” Maryse sighed. “It depends on a lot. You’re right, I am offended. And you have making up to do.”
Very easily, she could have left it at that, ensuring that he spent the rest of the day agonizing about how he had fucked up by turning her down. But she had something different in mind. Instead, she slid forward, pushing her thigh between Caleb’s legs. She could feel his thickness there.
“I know you’re worried about all that power inside of you...all that control.” She kissed his neck, and then dragged her tongue up to his ear. She could see that Felicia could see her. Maryse didn’t care. “I’m not worried about it. Not at all. I think it’s...fun, that you can do what you do. Hot. Sexy. Think about that.”
Like Felicia, she didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she stepped downstairs and slipped outside into the open summer air. In her pocket, her phone began to buzz—it was Bryce.
Maryse sighed.
She knew she would have to deal with him eventually, she had just hoped it would be later. Really, she mostly hoped he would just give up and go his own way, just thanking her for her time like she deserved.
But, boys were such silly creatures sometimes. He probably though she owed him an explanation of her desires, or something inane like that.
She was just about to answer the phone when a small, pink-haired woman in skintight leathers grabbed Maryse by the arm and walked her up the driveway, pinning her to the side of Bryce's car.
“Oh my,” said Maryse. “Who are you?”
Sexual energy coursed through Maryse. She couldn’t explain it. Everyone and everything she came across felt like prey to her. Caleb, Felicia, and now this delectable little beauty.
Perhaps it was because she had so easily conquered Caleb in the car. Caleb, who transformed into a fuck-beast that could dominate and own the wills of anyone alive. Maryse had seduced him and made him hers—she was utterly certain of that, even if they hadn't sealed the deal.
“Has he bitten you?” the woman asked Maryse.
Her voice was thickly accented, Russian or something similar. She looked built from that sort of stock—her body so tight and small, like a gymnast.
Maryse tried to weasel out of her grasp, to no avail. “Has who done what?”
“The werewolf. Has he bitten you?”
The woman was severely pretty—or pretty in a severe way, rather. Her nose was sharp, her lips pointed, her eyes a brilliant, shining, piercing ice blue, and her dark hair cut short, a shock of pink flowing to one side. She was like some punk rock bounty hunter diva.
A utility belt was strapped from one end of her waist to her shoulder, holding vials and small metal blades and gadgets. On her waist was a small crossbow and two firearms. Maybe one of them was a taser? Maryse didn't know about such things. All she knew was that this foreign beauty was armed to the teeth.
“Are you talking about Caleb?”
“Is that his name? Yes. Him.” She slammed Maryse against the car again. “Has he bitten you?”
“No!” Maryse took a deep breath, and tried to compose herself. More flies with honey, and all of that. “He hasn't bitten anyone, as far as I know. Would you let me go, please?”
She didn’t know why or how, but she instantly got a read on this woman as a lesbian—and very much of one. No sexual confusion left in her mind. In other words, someone Maryse could manipulate without too much trouble.
So of course, that instantly became Maryse's plan. Just because she thought she could.
With some hesitation, the small woman let Maryse go—but Maryse stayed close anyway.
“My name is Aksana, and I—” she stuttered a bit, looking down at Maryse’s fingers, where they were flowing across Maryse's substantial cleavage. Maryse’s other hand had trailed up Aksana’s arm, stroking it gently. “—I-I have been...I have been trailing him, the werewolf, Caleb...trailing for a month now. I am a hunter of his kind, and others like him.”
Aksana stepped back once more, and once more, Maryse followed after, her hands still sliding up Aksana's strong arm. The muscles there were like corded steel.
“You’ve been following him for a month and you didn’t know his name?”
Maryse could certainly see why. It would perhaps be hard to question people in the area without a decent, non-aggressive wardrobe...and skintight leather, layered down with tons of weapons, didn’t exactly fit the bill.
“I have been following his kind. There's a whole gang of them, and they've been through here recently. I think—” she shook her head. “I know something bad is going to happen here. And I've got to stop it.”
“Well.” Maryse took a breath. “Good luck with that, I suppose.”
Her hand slid over to Aksana's shoulders now, so tight—and finally the hunter slapped it away. Maryse giggled.
Aksana shook a finger wildly. “You like this Caleb?”
Maryse considered that. “I suppose so.”
“Then you should know he is in danger. I hold no malevolence for him, but he is dangerous. You should stay away from him.”
Maryse shrugged. “Perhaps I will.”
Whatever this Aksana knew, she clearly didn't seem to know that Felicia was a witch. If she did, Maryse doubted she would dare to be so close to the house in broad daylight.
Seeming to actively will the aggression out of her stance and posturing for the first time since their encounter began, Aksana took a breath and grabbed Maryse's hands.
“Listen to me—this is serious. He is going to die soon. I know he is. I can...sense this thing. It is a power of mine. A curse, too. That is true. But, I have a cure for him—for the entirety of his lycanthropy. But, you have to convince him to come to me. If you do not...it could mean trouble. Big trouble.”
Maryse was already bored with this conversation. Oh sure, yes, she was going to cure the werewolf king that she wanted to fuck and rule this little town with—if not even more! What a nuisance this little hunter was.
And yet, she didn't suspect Maryse's true motivations at all—most likely because Aksana was already smitten with her. How fun.
Just to get rid of her, Maryse asked, “How can I contact you then, if I need to?”
“Use this.”
She handed Maryse a small totem of an owl, showing her that she also had one strapped to her chest along with all the vials and knives. “Push the head in like this,” Aksana showed her. “And mine starts glowing. See? And I can use it to find you.”
“And what if I just want to see you again? If maybe I like the way you toss me around?”
Aksana blushed furiously. “This is serious, as I said. You ought to take it seriously. If you don't get him to come to me, I will be assuming he is hostile. And I will have to kill him.”
“Okay, okay,” said Maryse, waving her hand. “Contact Caleb, let him know you're a...whatever-you-are. Helper.”
Aksana frowned and turned, starting to leave. Feeling naughty, Maryse slapped her on the ass as she walked away. The lovely, small woman let out just the slightest of squeaks, and then pressed something on her utility belt, shimmering into invisibility.
Well, thought Maryse. How about that?
“Bye, lovely,” Maryse called out. “I hope I see you around soon.”
* * * * *
Once upon a time—very long ago it seemed like now, though in reality it was just the day before, Lauren had been on the cusp of a perfect summer.
And now, she considered, holding the town jock superstud in her arms...now...
It wasn't perfect. She couldn't call it that—not with being taken somewhat against her will by a sort-of-ex-boyfriend-turned-werewolf, and her boss becoming a sex slave, and magic suddenly being completely real and perfectly dangerous.
But...even with all that, it wasn't so bad.
She stroked Br
yce's hair, enjoying the feel of his masculine body against the pillows of her breasts. On his shoulder, she could still see the strange, mystic runes of the bite on his body from where Caleb had attacked him.
The sex that Lauren had with Caleb had been just phenomenal. It had been against Lauren's will up until the point of seeing the incredible length and width of it—then, she knew she just had to fuck him. At that point, there was nothing else on her mind except for being a fuckable female in front of a ready-to-fuck male. It was primal, hot, and glorious.
But, as incredible as it had been, it didn't erase her feelings for Bryce.
Lauren was absolutely consumed at the moment by what was happening between her and Bryce. After she had sucked him off in the morning, he held her for a long time without saying anything. She was terrified that he would be angry with her—that somehow she had taken advantage of him. He looked as though he had been in that strange trance, after all.
But, afterward, he asked to hold Lauren for a while, and that was nice.
She rather liked cuddling, she had decided. They would both form half-sentences, each waking the other from dozing, and then slide back into a blissful, hot sleep once more.
It bothered Lauren to an extent, of course, about how little being fucked by a werewolf bothered her. Or how little somehow being magically induced to suck Bryce’s cock bothered her. Just all that ability to give in, to let the moment overtake her and not worry about the consequences, to relinquish control...to make it so that all that fucking and heat and naughtiness was anyone’s fault but hers...
God, that got her hot.
Giving in. Surrendering. Submitting.
Maybe that’s what she was—a submissive. A true submissive. Just one that...wanted control the rest of the time. What sort of sexuality was that? What kind of personality?
She supposed it was hers.
As the sun rose up, Lauren realized she would have to deal with the other counselors. So, with a quick apology, she explained that to Bryce, and they both silently and quickly got dressed and gathered their things.
Dressed in tight jeans and an even tighter green tee shirt—her breasts hopefully looking good enough for Bryce to give plenty of attention to—Lauren addressed her fellow counselors in a crowd in front of their cabins.
She explained to their apprehensive and slightly annoyed faces that the storm during the previous night had caused too much damage to the main complex to fix, and that Heather had fallen seriously ill. They seemed to buy it, or at least, didn't question her. They knew that, whatever the truth of last night was, it definitely wasn't Lauren's fault. She rather liked having all their trust like that.
She watched them file out, and then looked around the cabins with a distinct sense of unease. Would she ever be able to come back here and do their good work? Who was going to call all the parents to let them know it was done?
In all, Lauren really didn't know if it was her responsibility to take care of the camp, even if she felt like it was. Hopefully, Heather could be helped out by Felicia, Caleb's stepsister. And if not, then there were still several days before the camp was supposed to begin. In the meantime, Lauren could try to figure out what to do next, and also go back home and look for a new summer job.
She found Bryce swearing up a storm in the mostly-empty parking lot—his car was missing. It was clear from the string of profanities that he blamed Maryse.
“Can I give you a ride back?” Lauren asked. “I’m sure that Maryse...I mean...I’m sure she thought she would just give the car back.”
“You know what she thinks, huh?” He laughed. “I could use some of that power, myself.”
Soon, they were on their way. The ride back was mostly silent—Lauren was an excellent driver, and did not like to take her attention off the road—even if there was a dark-haired, lantern-jawed hunk in the car with her. At one point, Bryce tried called Maryse—finally reaching her after a number of tries—and had a quick conversation in which cast a slight pallor over his face.
“Whatever,” he said at the end. “I hope that makes you happy. I also want my car back, all right? Drop it off at my house.” He paused. “I don't know, get one of your lackeys to pick you up.” He sighed. “Okay. Thank you.”
Conversation finished, he slapped the phone down on his thigh, sighing hard.
“Well,” he said. “I think we’re done, now.”
“You and Maryse?”
“Yes.”
“Just like that?”
Lauren was rather surprised. Maryse seemed flighty and mercurial of mood, to say the least, but Bryce had been a constant in her life for almost all their high school careers.
He shrugged. “It’s been coming ever since she got that modeling contract. I don’t know why it happened now. It must have been something...” he looked at Lauren. “...I don’t know.”
Lauren knew the real end of that sentence— “something that happened last night,” more than likely. But he was too polite to ask. Was Lauren good enough to tell him?
With a deep breath, she realized she was.
“I don’t know if you want to hear this or not,” she said, “but maybe you should, given that bite on your body.”
“Okay.”
“Caleb is a werewolf. Do you remember him biting you?”
He breathed out slowly. “I remember.”
“Well...apparently his werewolf-ness makes him...it makes the werewolf part of him, anyway, irresistible to women. There’s some pheromone he releases, and...I can’t explain it. It made it hard to think, hard to deny...easy to enjoy. I was affected by it. A lot.”
Bryce put his hand on top of yours. “You don’t have to keep going.”
“It’s all right.” She took a breath. “It wasn’t so bad, really. I enjoyed it. And unlike Heather...I’m still myself, somehow. Not a slave like she's become.. So you’re wrapped up in this because of your bite—you almost certainly are a werewolf now.”
He nodded sadly. “I know.”
“And I’m wrapped up in it because I’m...I don’t know. More immune to whatever you type exude. Not completely, but...enough that it matters. So, we both need Felicia.”
“Felicia?”
“Caleb’s stepsister. She helped him in the past. Maybe she can help us.”
“It doesn’t sound like you need help.”
Lauren harrumphed. “If there’s something magical going on with me, that is definitely not part of my life plan. I want whatever help I can get.”
He sighed. “I still don’t know what the hell Maryse wants in all of this.”
Lauren had her suspicions, but she kept quiet. She didn’t want to badmouth Maryse and earn Bryce’s resentment with his wounds so fresh. Even so, it was hard to not imagine Maryse as a kind of prize mare, searching out the stud in whatever pack she was in.
Halfway home, they got the text from Caleb—Can we talk about last night? Gazebo. Lover’s Lake. 3 PM?
Lauren, ever the responsible driver, pulled over to the side of the road to answer.
Sure. I’m bringing Bryce, too.
Why?
Because you bit him last night!
Shit. Good idea.
So, a little over an hour later, now late in the afternoon, Bryce and Lauren arrived at the small gazebo in Lover’s Lake Park to meet with Caleb. On the horizon, a deep purple sunset was beginning to form, casting hot splashes of color across the sky.
The name of the park was from an old local legend, in which two colonial lovers—cursed by their respective families and forbidden to see each other—dived off the waterfall at the north end of the park. Their bodies were never found, and they were rumored ever since to have transformed into eagles as they jumped.
Of course, Lauren had always dismissed the legend as a silly little tale to add some mystique to the place. But, now that she knew for a fact that werewolves were real, she had a little more trouble not taking the legend seriously. Was that kind of transformation something that was possible? Could tr
ue love like that change two people? Could the power of that love, hardened by denial and made furious and flaming by ostracization, alter someone completely in that way?
A question for another time.
It was a beautiful day out; the kind of cool summer day that made you forget all about how hot and sweltering the summers could get in their part of the country. They were sitting at a picnic table, trying to joke and flirt with each other and forget the intensity of the last day.
Caleb approached, looking withdrawn, hands in his pockets. The tattoos—or runes—on his arms looked almost like they were glowing in the sunlight.
“Hey guys,” he said, his face all twisted up.
“Hey man,” said Bryce.
Lauren waved friendlily—trying to let him know that there were no hard feelings. Probably Caleb didn't believe her—she found it hard to believe herself.
“Mind if I sit down?” said Caleb.
They both nodded, sure, go ahead.
“Look, Bryce” said Caleb, sliding across from them. “I really want to apologize to you. I know you’ve gotten a raw deal. I didn’t even know that you got bit...that I bit you, I mean...that it bit you...any of it, I mean. Until Lauren told me.”
Bryce shrugged. “Can’t change it now.”
Lauren shook her head. He was so casual about everything. It was maddeningly attractive.
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” said Bryce. “What do you got?”
“Next week is the Summer Solstice Festival,” said Caleb.
“That weird thing with the renaissance fair and all of that?”
“Right. But it’s a huge day for the magical community.”
Bryce chuckled. “The magical community?”
“I don’t know, man. You give it a name. I’m going to call it that.”
“All right.” Bryce shrugged.
“All right. So, it’s a day of power. It’s way before the next full moon—which is when you’ll be in trouble of becoming a werewolf. Both of us will, I guess. Basically, the long and short of it is that she’s petitioning to set up a ceremony to help me a little more, and to cure you before you ever even turn.”
Transformed! Nine Magically Erotic Stories Page 23