Bad, Very Bad Shifters- The Complete Mega Bundle

by Daniella Wright

  I don't know how to react to this, I don't think I want it, but it's irritating just how good it feels.

  I'm a fighter. I didn't want to be the girl that just got hitched up to anyone and then married and spat out lots of children. But what these people want – that's what it sounds like. Yet, I also sense, oddly enough, respect. Oh no, not respect here. Not respect that I have a choice in this happening, so that I must try to enjoy it, or break down.

  But respect in that they like my muscles. That they don't think I'm freakish or unnatural, as some people have said to my face before.

  So if this is what they're supposed to be doing to unlock my possible “witch” powers, though I'm doubtful on the matter, it's more enjoyable than I expected. And I hate myself for liking it.

  The shame and pleasure mix as Zell, his dark yellow eyes boring into me, lets hisses of pleasure escape through his lips. He grabs onto both of my breasts at one point, massaging them, as Lorek continues happily holding me down. Sometimes, Lorek brushes his lips against my ears, and breathes hot air onto my skin, the faint stubble of his face scratching my skin in a tantalizing way. I gasp as I feel Zell release himself inside me, and then, positions are switched. Now Zell is the one holding onto me, his erection still exposed, though limp, now it's finished the job, and I watch as Lorek undoes his tunic, shrugs his slender yet well toned body out of the clothes, and then he presses his long erection into me, and the pleasure starts up all again. Unfortunately for me, I can't come by being taken inside. I have a soft spot, I suppose, and it's nice, but it just doesn't do it for me. It's far easier to orgasm by myself, letting my fingers do the work.

  Though admitting I can make myself come in general human society is akin to admitting I'm a demon. And the punishment for demons is drowning them, because people believe they're resistant to fire, and that Hell is full of flames.

  Being a witch in human society isn't great, either. Men are called mages, but women are called witches. And witches don't get treated well, because people don't think women should have magic.

  Yet these people want to unlock the power in me. How does that even work? Magical semen? Some ancient ritual? The magical semen thought almost makes me burst out laughing on the spot, but I contain it instead in a grin, which of course they can't identify the reason behind. That's okay. These strong men, who plan to keep me here, I wonder how long they can do it like this, before I exact revenge. Before I escape. Though escaping in the middle of a vast mountain kingdom which is ringed by other bear tribes might be tricky. I'd no sooner escape then get caught again. No. I have to bide my time and learn. Only patience will save me.

  I gasp as Lorek jabs into my soft spot, and his arm muscles tense and flex, like a flesh cage around me, as he finally orgasms. I doubt either of them are interested in making me come, but Zell, currently pinning my arms, frowns. I wonder for a moment what's going through his pretty head, past all that mountain of surly and broodiness which I'm sure he likes to practise in his own time. Maybe he thinks it charms the ladies, or maybe he just has no humor in his soul.

  I guess if you're cousin to a prince and have that rubbed in your face your whole life, that might affect things.

  “Well,” Lorek says, taking off a droplet of sweat from his forehead, looking rather smug with himself, “Now we get to wait for the results... or continue playing further. Since you're completely at our mercy now...” He grins, his canines showing, as he begins to trail his long fingers over my body. I buck under his touch, resisting the urge to whimper, and when I tilt my head back, I notice again Zell's manhood by the side of my cheek, and it's semi erect at this point. An impulsive thought inflames my brain, and I latch onto his manhood, taking it in my mouth, careful to not use my teeth on it. Even if a part of me does want to.

  Zell isn't expecting this, and he inhales sharply, shivering as I swirl my tongue around him. His manhood smells like me, and it also contains the strong, earthy scent of his body. There's a little fluid there, which tastes about neutral. Part of me still struggles to believe I'm bold enough to do this, even though I'm technically a victim right now, captured, sold, and taken, when none of it would have been my first choice in the matter. I could be suffering, right now, and in pain, but my body has saved me from that by the reaction it gives towards these bear shifters. The prince and the lord. The one with a charming, confident smile, and the other with a knitted, unimpressed look to features unused to smiling.

  Zell's manhood, at first slightly soft, stiffens in my mouth, triggered by the warmth and attention I give him. Lorek chuckles, though I can't see him at this point. I feel his fingers remove their teasing trail from my body.

  “Good idea,” he murmurs. There's a rustling sound, and the bed creaks and bounces as he adjusts himself. Palms press into my thighs. Then I feel his breath at my core, and I spasm in delight, cheeks burning from the unexpected spike of desire. Right now, Zell is vulnerable, and I love that fleeting glimpse of power, though some of the thoughts in my brain instantly empty when Lorek moves forward, and his warm, wet tongue flicks against my bundle of nerves. It's electrifying, and my body twitches uncontrollably. I also try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he seizes my legs and holds them still, preventing me from slipping away.

  Oh, hell's teeth. I hate myself that I can feel the orgasm building, but I don't want it to stop. I want to fall down into this darkness, and let these forbidden feelings take over and consume me. I want to be taken against my will, somewhere, though I also know I don't want to suffer for it.

  The fact they so easily overpower me is both frustrating and a massive turn on. I work gently on Zell's hardness, letting my tongue slip over him, allowing my mouth to move back and forth, though when he pushes too far in, I have to resist the impulse to gag. To not ruin the mood, I slide my lips off him and take over with my hand, rubbing him until whiteness spurts out of him, landing on my shoulder. He curses and groans, and my hands are sticking and glistening from the effort. The orgasm inside me roars closer with each expert flick of Lorek's tongue. When he sucks upon my nub and places two fingers inside me, I gasp, convulse, and the tension in my thighs unrolls out into a monstrous orgasm, the biggest I've ever experienced in my life.

  I lie there, completely dazed, as the men pant around me. My heart, already so fast, is trying now to slow down. My cheeks are fever hot, and my eyes are glazed over in bliss.

  That was... something. I close my eyelids, staring into the colors I see behind them.

  “Well, Zell,” Lorek says, slightly out of breath, sounding smug and triumphant, “looks like you can enjoy yourself. Not bad, cousin.”

  “Who says I can't?”

  “Are you serious? You always look like you want to murder something. I can count the number of times you've laughed on my toes.”

  “I laugh.” Zell's voice comes back, injured. “I have fun.”

  “Sure.” There's a pause. “I think we have a winner, here. Even if Maude doesn't turn out to be a witch, her physique is good. Any children we do have will be handsome and strong.”

  “If we know whose child it is,” Zell says, and there's an ominous undertone to it.

  “Beggars can't be choosers. We may not have another women in these parts for years. And I doubt we'll find one with such a fantastic body. We'll just do it like this. Redheads are your children. Darker hairs are mine.”

  I'm irritated at how they're discussing me, and it dampens the high I've been riding. “And if they're blonde?” I try to keep my tone civil.

  “Eh, we'll decide that when it happens, Lorek says, dismissing the notion. No one seems to think me being here is wrong, that they're abusing me. Or if they do, no one wants to admit it, or no one cares.

  It's hard to keep the resentment inside. Why, if I do end up somehow developing some magic power, maybe I can use it against them.

  “Oh,” Lorek says. “I'm ready again.”

  I whimper as he now pushes a hard erection into my sensitive core again, sending rippling surges of une
xpected pleasure through my already weakened system.

  Somehow, I don't think I'm going to be getting any rest right now.

  Maybe they're so randy because it's so rare they find women. That's why they're willing to share me. Or maybe it's because my body continues to betray me, and enjoy this sweet torture inflicted.

  I don't know. All I do know is that stars are swimming in front of my eyes, and it's getting harder to remember how to breathe, from the constant spikes of arousal warming my blood.

  Heaven and Hell take me, my mind whispers, as my body throbs.

  Chapter Four

  Disappointment tangs the cousins when they see no glimmer of magical power inside me, even after weeks of rather relentless bedtime activities. I'm asked often if I can feel anything developing, but I wouldn't even know what to look for. I feel more or less the same as before. I can't conjure fireballs with my hands or make objects move. I'm just same old me, the tomboy who wanted to travel, and left her family to do so. I never wanted to be my sister, and I didn't want to marry some farmboy or some disgusting old man. Instead, I'm some sort of unwitting concubine for a prince and his cousin of a kingdom in the mountains.

  It's a different one from the place I came from. Our king is greedy, placing tithes on the poor and milking them until they collapse exhausted and dead, with only his rich friends and family benefiting. Here, people don't seem to be ill or exhausted or desperate. Possibly because for a kingdom, it's quite small, though it still has enough citizens to deal some serious damage. The main place I come from, the land of Dorzen, probably has about three hundred thousand people. Here, it's about thirty thousand, all scattered over the gigantic rock hewn city, but they have niches. There's restrictions on hunting and fishing. People are encouraged to grow livestock and tend fisheries. People have businesses selling furs and glue and trading with other kingdoms. In short, nobody seems to lack a job.

  When I ask prince Lorek about this, he simply states, “Our aim is to have a secure kingdom. Not a rich one. Though that's not to say we don't find wealth, anyway.”

  I don't think he's telling the full truth, though. There has to be a darkness somewhere. No society can be so perfect.

  I'm allowed to wander around the streets, and I sleep in a small set of rooms nearby Lorek's suite, though I'm often dragged there anyway. I met Lorek and Zell's fathers once at a feast. They looked how I expected them to look – regally dressed, plump and wealthy, with extravagant furs, and ornamental jewelry. They didn't really talk to me, just commented on my healthy shape and the children they hoped I'd bear – ironic as it sounds – and I spent most of the time examining the other scarce women in the room.

  In a table seating around fifty men and children, there was about five women. There was also a fair amount of relatives to Lorek and Zell. Lorek alone has about five other brothers, all of them younger than him, with the youngest around eight years old, with a perpetually wide eyed look of wonder in his yellow irises.

  Zell has around three cousins, two of them older than him, and I noticed a lot of envious observation over me. I've never been stared at so jealously before, and it definitely does some boosting to my pride.

  It seems because Zell and Lorek were part of the territorial scouts that encountered me when I was trapped in the crate, they had first claim. Though they could have easily chosen to share me with everyone else, they kept me to themselves.

  More than once, I heard Zell's oldest brother, a plump lordling with a neck of land on the borders, complain that he should have access to me, because I was mining on his section of land.

  It's already enough I'm being taken by two of them almost every day. I don't think I'd like to add more to the list. I've learned to enjoy it how I can, of course. To moan and groan, how to make them come fast, how to make myself come fast. How certain things arouse me more than others, such as being bound. Such as feeling their teeth on my neck, or when I try to resist them, and their strength simply overwhelms mine and pins my arms down in the dull ache of pain.

  They do all agree I'm strong for a woman. But compared to bear shifter strength, I'm like a baby.

  It's odd. I've been training all my life to be strong, and I find out that here, I'm nothing. It's my feminine side that means more to them. The few fantasies I've had in my life have never involved bear shifters. Actually, my fantasies included a healthy mix of being dominated and being the dominator. I entertained the idea that I could thrash a man in battle after say, proving to him that I was as talented as he believed. I'd watch the mocking doubt in his face transform to incredulity and then admiration. Then I'd force him to strip off his clothes at swordpoint, then have my wicked way with him.

  Or, and this is the slightly more guilty pleasure – I'd be surrounded by, say, three men fighting me, and I'd put my all into it, and last for a long time, before three of them eventually forced me to submit. They'd use their weapons to slice through my clothes, and then I'd be bound and taken, subject to their every whim. Both of these sent pleasing shivers through my body. But I always knew that my fantasies would stay just that – fake. Unreal. Because if the men overwhelmed me, I probably wouldn't be as aroused as I got in my dreams. And a lot of men I've fought one on one have this peculiar, pent up rage. It's black and hateful, and seems to be fuelled by the idea of the impossibility thay a woman can best them in the domain they're supposed to be best at. If a man defeated them, it was easy to get over. If a woman did, it injured their pride to dangerous levels. Because they simply couldn't accept someone “weaker” had beaten the snot out of them.

  It threatened their manhood and sense of identity, I suppose.

  Anyway, fantasies aside, being stuck in the middle of nowhere and used as a sex toy aside, my life over the next few weeks had improve drastically. I got to bathe every day in a copper tub. I owned more clothes than I've seen in my lifetime, including mu repaired wolf tunic, which now glimmers softly, as if filled with an inner light. People treated me with looks of lust or respect. The few women that existed here insisted on dragging me off to talk, though their gossip often bored me, because I liked action. Don't get me wrong, I did appreciate some of the conversations. And I understand a lot of these women were lonely or just wanted to hear some tales of the places they came from before. But they'd learned to accept their fates in this new land.

  Still I enjoyed the idea of action so much, that I had made it to the training grounds, where men learned to fight in their human or bear forms. Part of the ground had been converted into a huge arena, and three groups of people trained in three separate, cordoned areas. Men versus men. Bear versus bear. And men versus bears.

  Today, all the princes and cousins were participating, and it'd drawn quite the crowd. Watching the individual spars stirred my blood. I eagerly devoured the techniques used, who relied on strength or speed, and mentally ranked in my head the best and worst fighters.

  It's been weeks since I've wielded a sword, and I'm fairly certain if I tried, Lorek and Zell would stare at me in alarm, since I guess I have ample reason to slice them up – or they'd just laugh at the idea of a woman holding a sword.

  Watching the skill levels, gauging their strengths, I think, yeah. I can beat them. I have the skill for it.

  Plus, even though I've not had my sword, I've still been keeping myself fit. Not just because of the sexual deviancies, but to the training I do in my small chambers as well, and being careful about what I eat.

  Prince Lorek fights against one of his brothers in human form. Though a friendly sparring session, the younger brother puts a lot of energy and passion into the duel, and Lorek concedes to him, even though I'm sure Lorek has more skill. He just wants to let his younger brother have the glory. Zell appears to be in bear form, sparring – with a batch of russet bears practising their swipes. He's easily the bulkiest one there, with massive shoulders and a huge head, with teeth longer than my forearm. Quite impressive, actually.

  I venture down to the arena, and Lorek smiles at me. “Ho, Maud
e. Come to watch?”

  “No,” I sat. “I want to fight.”

  He examines my muscles for a moment. “You do have strength for a woman, I suppose. But do you know how to fight?”

  “Hahaha! A woman wanting to fight?” One of the shifters says, leaning on his training sword. “This is no place for you.”

  The anger builds up inside me. I want nothing else but to stomp his face into the dirt. I step up to Lorek. “Your training sword, please.”

  Lorek sees the glint of anger in my eyes, shrugs, then hands me the weapon. “This should be entertaining to watch.”

  I advance towards the shifter who dared to mock me, feeling the power in my limbs. The shifter narrows his yellow eyes, snarling through his black beard. “Obviously you need a lesson. I hope you don't mind, prince Lorek?”

  Lorek says nothing, possibly because he doesn't want to fan the flames already burning. Several people have stopped to watch. I smile inwardly. I'm not one for drawn out bouts, because I know most of my opponents outmatch me in strength. Which is why I've mastered the quick, the elegant, and the dirty.

  He lumbers forward and swings, his balance off.

  Oh, too easy, I think. He has no guard, no caution. I swerve, step forward whilst simultaneously pushing his arm off balance, and while he staggers forward, I slam him in the back of the neck, and he falls. I then press my boot against his back. “What lesson was that?”

  Lorek whistles, impressed. I step off the man before he shrugs and attempts to upset my balance, and he spits, “A fluke!”