The Gargoyle's Curse

by Ginger Devine

  The Gargoyle’s Curse

  By Ginger Devine

  Book One in

  The Gargoyle Awakens Series

  Copyright Page

  The Gargoyle’s Curse by Ginger Devine

  © 2017 by Ginger Devine

  Published by Devine Literary, LLC

  www.devineliterary.com

  All right reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

  colleen@devineliterary.com

  “I can’t wait to meet the love monster!” Aime giggled. The three girls had been climbing the winding stairwell inside the ancient chateau’s tower for what seemed like hours. “Almost there,” she said as a square of light came into view; it was the outline of the door to the roof.

  “Mon Dieu, I am dying!” panted Elyse as she stopped for a moment to bend over, hands on her knees, to catch her breath.

  “Ooof,” said Margaux as she plowed into the back of Elyse. The stairs were treacherous and she’d kept her eyes on her feet as they ascended. “This guy better be worth the effort.”

  “He’s not a guy, he’s The Gargoyle, and maybe we’ll be the ones to bring him back to life. I’m ready to try!”

  ---

  Earlier that day Aime had enticed Elyse and Margaux into cutting the last day of class before the winter break. The three American exchange students would be trapped at their French host families’ homes for Christmas and New Year’s and she wanted to have one last blow-out before they were sequestered in the country for four long weeks. Neither of the girls was convinced at first.

  “So, what is this party?” asked Margaux. She was skeptical that driving to the countryside for winter solstice party was going to be more fun than staying in Paris for one last hurrah. “Will I get laid? And if I do, will I want to remember it the next day?”

  Elyse was worried about other things. “Are you sure we won’t flunk Art & Architecture? What if our final project isn’t detailed enough? Maybe we shouldn’t have missed class today.”

  “Don’t worry – I told Professor Bernard that we were going on a field trip to a medieval chateau and would extensively document the visit with photos and first-hand observations. He’ll count it toward our grade if we turn it in before New Year’s.”

  They eventually did get into Aime’s car for the half-day trek north to The Chateau Romain, lured by her promise of a raging party starting that evening at the nearly-derelict estate; the family no longer lived there, and it was uninhabited. At least, by humans.

  Aime told them more during the drive, “There’s a legend that the stone gargoyle on the chateau’s roof was actually a man who was cursed a long time ago. However, he becomes human on the longest night of the year, the solstice, December 21st, when the boundaries between the real world and the spiritual world are at their weakest.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be there when he wakes up – he can’t be in a good mood.”

  Aime sighed, loudly. “We aren’t going to see him - it’s just an excuse to have a killer party. And I’d love to see the chateau, the original house was built almost a thousand years ago. We can mix business with pleasure.”

  “I vote for more pleasure, less business. School is out for a month, and I don’t even want to do the extra credit,” Margaux laughed.

  “Turn here,” said Elyse, the navigator. But she didn’t need to point out the exit. They could see a stone tower above the forest that surrounded the road. A sign directed them to a field, where at least a hundred cars were already parked.

  Even though it had seen better days, the house was still amazing, a fairy tale castle on a small island, surrounded by a moat. They walked over a drawbridge to get to the front door.

  Once they’d paid the bouncer at the giant wooden door an outrageous number of francs (“I better be able to drink my own weight in champagne and find the biggest cock ever!” an outraged Margaux said as she handed over the cash) they entered the main courtyard, and another world.

  There were people everywhere, many wearing masks and bizarre costumes in shiny, vibrant colors, others dressed like sexy villagers from the middle ages. A few were even wearing gargoyle masks, and not much else.

  The girls threw themselves into the middle of everything, grabbing drinks and making new friends. As the sun drew closer to the horizon, signifying that the beginning of the longest night of the year would soon start, the party became more raucous and uninhibited. The girls met near the base of the giant stone tower that they’d seen from the road when driving in; it was even more imposing up close. They were all tipsy but weren’t having fun anymore.

  “I don’t want some guy with a giant codpiece trying to stick his fingers in my mouth,” said Elyse

  “Or under my skirt,” Aime added.

  Margaux thought a moment, “At least, not without asking. And those codpieces are all piece, no cod. This is boring”

  “I have an idea” said Aime. “Everybody grab a bottle and meet me at the bottom of the stairs to the tower.”

  ---

  A few minutes later, they were all nearly at the top of the stairwell, panting with the exertion of the climb.

  “Why did I wear these shoes?” Elyse groaned. She was the least enthusiastic about the climb, but happy to be away from the rough crowd below.

  “And this skirt – it’s so tight. Why did I dress like I was going to a club?” asked Margaux. She’d hiked it up so that she could climb the steep stairs, despite completely uncovering her derriere, except for the tiny pair of red panties that were more of a suggestion than a garment.

  “Well, your ass looks amazing. One more glass of champagne and I might need to bite it,” Elyse said. Margaux turned and slapped her ass cheeks while looking over her shoulder and wriggling her tongue.

  “Why are we here again?”

  “It’s the winter solstice, when The Gargoyle is supposed to come to life and make your sexiest dreams come true.”

  “My dream isn’t to pass out from altitude sickness – how much farther do we have to go to meet the monster of your dreams?”

  It was unseasonably warm for December and all three of them were sweaty by the time they reached the door to the roof. ‘I cannot wear this jacket any longer,” Aime declared as she pushed out onto the roof, throwing it to the ground. Elyse and Margaux did the same, and all three enjoyed the cool breeze that blew across the rooftop. “That’s him, the man of the evening!” Aime exclaimed as she first caught sight of The Gargoyle.

  Half-crouching near the edge of the roof like a terrifying lion ready to tear apart the next prey in his path, the statue seemed about to leap off the edge and onto the tiny figures of the crowd six stories below. If he had jumped, he might have been held aloft by wings that erupted from his shoulder blades and furled out above and behind him.

  “He’s…beautiful.” Aime took a swig of the bottle she’d brought with her as she walked over to the statue. His crouched thigh muscles were so well-developed, so real, that Aime ran her hands over them, saying “I can’t believe he’s made of stone. Look at his back. And his arms. I’ve dreamed about touching biceps like these.”

  Standing on the statue’s other side, Margaux said “And his…umm…I didn’t know he was anatomically correct.” The statue was extremely realistic, and completely naked. His creator had included every part in detail, most impressively his fully erect and very large manhood. “He’s magnificent. Why couldn’t we meet him downstairs?”

  “There isn’t a codpiece big enough to cover that,” Elyse said, followed by a tiny burp. She’d had quite a bit of champagne already. “No wonder there’s a legend about him.”

  The three of them
moved to stand in front of him, enjoying the entire view of his huge, painstakingly detailed erect member, framed by his muscular legs and chest, with his terrifying yet fascinating cat head staring down at them. Aime reached into her bag for her camera and checked to make sure it was loaded with film. “Let’s take some pictures before it gets dark. I can’t wait to see what these look like when I develop them in the darkroom”

  ---

  The closer the sun came to disappearing below the horizon, the more Lucien felt himself coming back to life. Once during the year, at the winter solstice, he was given a chance to escape for a few hours from the curse that had imprisoned him centuries before; the chance to revisit his human form. But after so many years, millennia, he was wearied now; his hope to become human again for more than a night had long been extinguished. Even though he had the choice to be awakened for this night, he would choose not to - he didn’t want to be fully conscious only to find himself trapped, alone, and desperate for companionship.

  As the horizon turned yellow and purple from the setting sun, his eyes and ears opened. He wouldn’t be able to move until the sun had truly set, but he had started the painful process of awakening; painful because he was filled with rage, desire, hunger, and had no way to assuage those needs. It was almost always the same – and this time he would choose to stop the process, keep his eyes closed, ignore any sounds, until the great stone sleep claimed him again.

  But then his ears detected noise, something he hadn’t heard in so long that he thought he must be imagining it. Female voices. He looked down – although he couldn’t yet move his head he could feel something or someone touching him. He was awake, whether he liked it or not.

  ---

  “Both of you, put your hands around the shaft and lick it like an ice cream cone.” Margaux and Elyse laughed as they followed Aimes direction.

  Snap.

  “J’adore! I’m going to set the self-timer for this one, watch the blinking light.” Aime settled the bulky camera on a ledge, pushed the timer button, and ran over to the others, quickly whipping her dress off over her head so that she was in just her panties and bra. She bent over and pressed her backside to the bottom of the statue’s shaft while cupping her breasts and pushing them toward the lens.

  “Smile!”

  Snap.

  “My panties are prettier than yours; take my picture in them.”

  “Me, too!” Quickly they were all in just their lacey underthings, all of which were shear, tiny, and made for fun.

  Another bottle of champagne was opened to ward off the chill that was creeping in – it was warmer than usual for December but the sun was almost down.

  “I want to straddle his cock this time, there’s room for me to fit between his body and his shaft if I wiggle,” said Aime. She grabbed the head of his large member with one hand and placed the other on his stomach to brace herself as she placed one leg over the point where they joined. She was facing toward the camera, the head of his huge cock reaching almost to her barely-covered nipples, which were poking through her transparent bra. Her toes barely touched the ground – most of her weight was bearing down between her legs, which rubbed against his staff.

  “Wow, I thought he would feel rougher – it’s hard, and warm, but not rough. I think I like this.” She was joking at first, but as she wiggled to get into a more secure position, Aime felt a delightful heat between her legs. It was like rubbing against a real man, but she’d never been with someone who was this big, much less someone who would have the patience to let rub her clit along him so slowly, letting her savor the moments, building her pleasure before his own. Monsieur Gargoyle was already more fun than most of her dates, and she was still wearing her underwear.

  “I want a piece of that,” Margaux yelled as she adjusted the angle of the camera, set the self-timer, and moved to the right side of the statue, where she straddled one muscular thigh as she reached over to grasp the top of his sex. It almost felt soft, flexible. She held on a little more firmly. It was warm.

  Elyse was on the other leg, sitting backwards with her derriere towards the camera, looking over her shoulder as she pushed her groin into the strong, surprisingly warm thigh between her legs. All three gasped with surprised delight just as the camera snapped – it felt like the statue moved! This was getting fun.

  ---

  Lucien struggled to understand what was happening to him – he was awake, although not yet able to fully move, but he felt like he was on fire! His legs were already straining, they felt so heavy. And his groin was burning in a way he hadn’t felt in so long that he almost couldn’t remember it – the feeling of desire, so strong that it blotted out everything else. He wanted the sun to set so he could break free from this prison of stone. He knew he couldn’t go back to oblivion without knowing what was happening to him.

  Then he heard the voices, what they were saying.

  “How much have we had to drink? I feel like he’s getting softer and warmer, “said Elyse

  “And harder,” said Margaux as she stood in front of his massive cock, rubbing her breast teasingly across the head, which was at nipple height. “But also, warm. Oh, this feels so good!”

  “What were we smoking downstairs?” Aime asks as she sits on one massive thigh and reaches down to touch the place where the Gargoyle’s member met his torso. “This feels like velvet.”

  “Aime, get up on his legs, straddle him.” Aime knelt with one foot on each thigh as Margaux took hold of his now pliable and throbbing shaft, and starts to stroke Aime with it through her panties.

  Aime leaned back onto his muscular chest, bracing herself by reaching back to hold onto his bulging biceps, her back arching so that her breasts point almost to the sky. “Ohhhhhh…this is amazing.”

  Elyse started taking photos until she was distracted; she was getting more and more turned on. Then a bolt of pleasure shot through her, unexpectedly fierce, causing her to nearly drop the camera as she jumped up. She reached down to touch herself and felt something unexpected, something that wasn’t her black thong. It was warm and soft and made her clit tingle, and it wasn’t supposed to be there.

  “AHHHH!!” Elyse screamed as she saw what looked like a long, sinuous snake wrapped around her leg and sliding back and forth over her sex in the most amazing, exciting way.

  Looking down, terrified but also incredibly turned on, she realized the snake was something else, something connected to the Gargoyle. She doesn’t want it to stop, but she is also afraid of what it was.

  “It’s his tail! He has a tail, and it’s STROKING ME!”

  Aime and Margaux screamed while simultaneously jumping off the Gargoyle in a panic as they realized it – HE – was no longer stone.

  ---

  Lucien roared as he jumped off his perch and walked around them as they cowered together, holding one another. He saw three women, mostly naked, wearing pieces of cloth on their breasts and around their womanhood, cloth like he has never seen before. He wondered for a moment at its purpose; it couldn’t be keeping them warm or hiding their bodies from sight. He could see almost everything. He wants, needs to see more.

  He snarled, “Who are you and what are you doing here?!”

  Lucien’s huge sex, jutting out from body aggressively, waved from side to side as he circled them. His wings furled out above his head, making him seem 20 feet high. The thigh muscles that were so impressive in stone were now flexing, moving, leaving no doubt that the Gargoyle had come to life.

  Haltingly, Aime answered for the group, all the while mesmerized by his swaying cock – like a cobra rising out of a basket, enticing her, daring her to touch it. “We...we just came from the party downstairs. And we had some champagne.”

  “And a whole lot of dope,” Margaux muttered under her breathe. “Obviously, too much. Because I think we are being held captive by a 12th century statue who was just having tail sex with Elyse.”

  “Amazing sex. I think I’m switching from cocks to tails in the future.�
��

  “SILENCE!” Lucien roared. His erect manhood was getting harder as he looked at the three women, and the memory of hearing their gasps a moment ago makes him want to hear them, feel them all over him. He can’t think with the intense heat from his groin, his brain, his legs.

  “We should go. Will you let us leave?” asked Aime. Lucien realized he was frightening them. He stopped pacing and moved to sit on the pedestal where he had, until a moment ago, been crouched and ready for battle for several hundred years. This was not the battle he was prepared for.

  “You should go,” he growled, turning his back on them. Of course, they were interested in the grotesquerie that he was when he was stone. But the man, or whatever he was now, frightened them, repelled them. He couldn’t bear to see them look at him with fear, or worse, pity. Somehow, he would endure this night alone. Bu this was the last one. Lucien resolved that he would succumb to the stone forever after this. The pain and loneliness were too great.

  The three women looked at each other, realizing that the fire, the essence, had gone out of the huge stone being. Aime reached out to him as he sat on his perch. She touched his face, then ran her hands down the side of his neck to his shoulders, over his chest, stopping for a moment on his nipples, making Lucien twitch and gasp. As her hands went lower, she leaned into him, once again brushing his erection with her breasts. Lucien groaned and leaned backward until he was laying down. “Don’t be cruel to me – I can’t keep myself from touching you if you tease me like this. I just want to be left alone.”

  As Lucien lay there with his eyes closed, he felt something else touch his throbbing cock. He opened eyes with a groan, to see a naked Aime wrapping herself around it. His manhood, for he was all human now, in spite of his leonine face, wings, and tail, was too big to go inside her, so she clenched her thighs around him, pushing herself against him, writhing with pleasure. He pushes his hips up as he groans. It feels good, so good, but it’s not enough. He wants more.