by Kathryn Moon
I glanced at Auguste and Jonathon, and was secretly delighted to find them both staring back at me, rather than the pretty, nearly naked girl on stage. 'Watch,' Jonathon mouthed.
I bit my lip and turned back to the stage, where the girl was stumbling aimlessly, releasing little whimpers and cries as she searched for an exit she couldn't seem to find. A low growl sounded, and she rose to her toes, body arching with frozen horror. Which was all right for her, but damnit, I wanted to see whatever was growling.
Auguste laughed as I leaned forward, my eyes growing every bit as wide as the actress', searching the stage with her.
At last, the monster appeared, tall and broad, covered in shaggy dark fur, head huge and fangs glinting. It stomped out onto the stage from the back, and the girl trembled wildly, snared by its gaze, beautifully frightened. It was something like a bear, every bit as large, but with longer and slightly more human limbs. Its broad body was spread, arms wide, making itself as large as possible, and the girl appeared even frailer and more like prey.
Between the hips, rising slowly, long and angrily red and shining, was its cock. The girl let out a wail of terror and began to run, darting left, but it was obvious at once how futile her effort was.
"It's a were-bear," Jonathon whispered in my ear. "Not as common here, but—"
"Shh," I hushed him, his chuckle rushing warm breath over my neck as I leaned forward. The were-bear let out a roar so loud, it shook the room and made the chandelier tremble before launching forward on all fours, the girl screaming and her feet skidding as it guarded the exit to the wing. She spun at once, the thin dress she wore whirling around her in a blur, before heading in the next direction.
It didn't matter that I knew it was a performance, that she was as willing a participant to the events that I was, that the were-bear was following the choreography. My heart was flying in my chest, my hands fisting velvet over my lap, eyes refusing to blink.
I didn't even know what I was rooting for in the moment—the girl's escape or her capture.
The chase lasted, the monster nearly catching her at one point and tearing the skirt of her dress up to her hip so a pale leg flashed as she ran. They were on opposite sides of the stage, and for a moment, I mourned her victory as it looked as though she were about to make her exit. She dashed behind the curtain, and then a bright scream sounded, and a second roar off stage.
The audience let out a wild cheer in unison as a second were-bear appeared, the girl tossed in a faint over its shoulder. A trap door in the center of the stage opened, smoke rising first, and then a dark shadow of a great stone plateau. The two beasts met there, spreading the woman out on its surface. Their hands circled her limbs, stretching them and fastening them into iron shackles at four corners. She tossed her head back and forth, lost in a drowse, as the were-bears circled her.
"Mon coeur," Auguste murmured, stroking a hand down my bare arm and making me shiver.
"What will they do?" I whispered.
"What would you like them to?" he answered lowly, lips curved in a smile.
If it were me? I stared at their bodies, massive and animal and strange, and at their cocks—which were thick but probably not quite as much as Mr. Tanner's. I opened my mouth to answer, 'everything,' but then the were-bears began to move, massive mouths opening as if they were about to devour her.
Which they did, in a sense.
The woman moaned as the were-bears pressed their paws onto the stone and began to lick at her skin. One clawed at the collar of her flimsy dress, tearing it open to reveal her breasts, and my breath hiccuped in my chest as a great, damp, black nose began to nuzzle her skin. She moaned and began to twist in sleep, but it was difficult to tell if it was fear or arousal.
Both. This is about both and where they meet, I realized. And I loved it. I wanted to be the woman on the stage, not just watching her.
Auguste's arm drew me back to him, and I almost objected until his head bowed and he began to suck and lick at my neck and shoulders, fangs occasionally scratching softly. Ohhh, yes that was better, to be touched as I watched. Jonathon took my arm, his eyes fixed to the stage as he teased the tender flesh on the inside where I was most sensitive.
I sighed, and Auguste raised a hand, forcing it into the tight collar of my gown to cup and roll my breast.
On stage, the girl was waking, moans and whimpers frequent as the were-bears licked and nibbled her as a feast. One was burrowing and exploring its way up between her thighs, and I let out a small cry of sympathy as Auguste nipped my throat and the creature found her center, licking enthusiastically.
"Oh, Christ. Will we get in trouble?" I whispered.
Jonathon laughed at that, glancing at me as the other were-bear tore open the rest of the dress, climbing up onto the stone and presenting its cock to the girl's face.
"Not even if we were on the floor with the others," Jonathon answered. "Although it would be harder to keep you to ourselves."
"Then someone get me out of this dress and fuck me," I gasped.
Auguste only laughed. "The show's barely begun! Surely you can wait for act two."
"You really only have one act in you?" I answered back, a little tartly, and Jonathon buried his own laugh behind his hand.
"You'll wait, Miss Reed," Jonathon said, firm but sweet, brow arching and eyes glinting green.
I pressed my lips together, wanting to argue but forgetting what I would say as the were-bear at the woman's head finally found his cock's way into her mouth, muffling her cry of pleasure. He was at her side, arched slightly over her but not enough to block the audience's view, feeding her the tip. She mewled loudly, squirming and suckling, and I licked my lips as I watched.
"I'd feed you too if it wouldn't block your view," Auguste murmured to me, which was wicked but appreciated. As much as I wanted to be enjoying the activities, I also didn't want to miss what was next.
The lights were dimming on the stage as the girl cried around her were-bear's cock again, the second one still burrowing and licking her core. An appreciative clap rose up from the audience, and the shadow of the stone platform lowered.
"Don't frown. There's more to come," Jonathon promised, kissing my temple.
"They didn't fuck her properly," I said, fighting my own pout of sympathy.
Auguste grinned at me. "They'll be back. That was an appetizer."
I rolled my eyes at him, but on stage, shadows were moving, and my fingers squeezed around Jonathon's as I waited for the lights to rise again.
My eyes widened as they did.
There on the stage, were five new human figures, spaced out in a V shape. Four had their bodies trapped by the neck and wrists in dark stockades. The two in the middle were bent forward with asses high and entirely naked, a woman on the right and a man on the left. The two at the front of the stage were kneeling, trapped to the floor, foreheads resting on velvet pillows this time with the man on the right and the woman on the left. The fifth, at the center, was a woman shackled by her wrists in chains held high above her head.
The humans were silent, each lit by their own spotlight, the girls' hair braided in crowns on their heads. There was something reverent to the scene, as if they were in the middle of a prayer, but it wasn't an angel who walked onto the stage first.
He looked like one of the men from a Rooksgrave painting, skin the color of coal with vast shimmering black wings like a bat's spreading out from his back. He had dark curling horns and eyes that glowed with fire. He was nude, thick with muscle, and his cock was knobbly and tapered, exceptionally thick at the base. He walked to the girl chained at the back center first, lowering himself to his knees before her, like a worshipper.
One of her legs raised, hooking over his shoulder, her toes pressing into his back, and then the second did the same, his horns forming a heart around her pelvis as he leaned in and began his meal of her. She rocked onto his face, chains jangling above her head, her breasts rising and falling with her breaths, body beginning to bounc
e with a familiar rhythm.
"Demon," Auguste whispered to me. "Forked tongue."
"Don't make me jealous," I snapped back.
"Lean forward."
I did, gladly, hands wrapping tight around the railing, sighing slightly as Auguste began to loosen the laces of my dress. It was a start at least.
On the stage, another monster appeared, this one more like a man, tan skin but intensely scarred, with eyes a milky white, hands thick and feet undefined. No, not a man and not scars. He was like Booker, but made of clay! He carried a great paddle in his hands, and the demon ended his feast on his knees as the clay man approached.
The chained woman's legs were trembling as her toes touched the floor. She hadn't come, as far as I could tell, but her spotlight shined on a film of arousal on her sex. The clay man stepped behind her, raised the paddle, and brought it to her ass with a crack! echoing through the theater. I gasped at the sound, but the woman just went slack in her chains as if the slap had brought her a relief that the demon's mouth hadn't.
The demon moved to a woman bent over, hands and neck fastened. He wrapped her hips in his claw-tipped grip, and I swallowed hard, catching one quick breath before he was thrusting inside of her.
"Yes!"
It was the first word spoken, and it made me jolt in my seat. Unlike the woman in chains, the one in the stockade was loud and enthusiastic with her praise, rising to her toes and pleading for more. The demon's wings beat in the air as he thrust, fiery gaze focused on where they were joined, and he, too, began to growl and grunt.
"This will be long, mon coeur," Auguste said, drawing me back again.
I'd barely even noticed him working at my dress, but it was loose now, the corset still fastened tight.
"Make room for me," he whispered, sinking down onto his knees and coming to kneel before me, keeping his head low enough for me to see over onto the stage.
"What about—" I turned to Jonathon, who watched as Auguste peeled my dress down my shoulders. The corset was on over a thin chemise, which Auguste promptly tore open at the collar, nuzzling into my breasts as he tugged and wiggled the dress off over my hips.
"Tanner will have his turn later," Jonathon said, smiling. "For now, I have two very good shows to watch."
Which was all well and good, but…
I pulled my hand free from the doctor's, his brow folding with worry for a moment, until I settled my hand on his lap, rubbing and cupping him through his trousers.
"Will Mr. Tanner mind?" I asked, arching my back so Auguste could suck at my nipples, my skin chilled but hypersensitive in the open theater. My eyes flicked to the stage, where the clay man was spanking his woman with steady frequency, her body sagged and head thrown back with a blissful open expression on her face.
"Mr. Tanner is feeling very patient tonight," Jonathon rasped, sagging in his seat, fingers fumbling at his buttons so I could dive my hand inside and take him in my grip for real.
Another monster appeared on stage, this one scaled and exceptionally tall, with a cock that swayed excitedly in the air. He took the clay man's place, who moved studiously to the front of the stage to one of the kneeling men and began to treat him with the same slow but steady torture he'd given the first woman.
"Auguste, touch me," I pleaded, spreading my legs until my chemise ran out of room.
"All in good time," Auguste answered before scraping his fangs over a nipple and drawing it back into his mouth to suckle, but he dragged my hips forward to press against his torso and let me wiggle and rub myself there.
It was sensory overload and also not enough. The scaled man was kneeling behind the woman in chains, cock waving in the air as he feasted on her ass, the woman with the demon was wailing with pleasure, his hands now bracing the stockade to keep her in place for his fucking, and the man being spanked was crying out a “thank you, sir!” with every crack of the paddle. More shadows waited in the wings to fill the stage with fucking. Auguste had promised me this would be long, and he was right.
There was no way I'd make it to act two without a cock in me.
Chapter Seventeen
On with the Show
“Please, please, please," I chanted, but Auguste had his hand over my mouth so the words were barely mumbles.
My hand, by Jonathon's request, was still messy with his release, but I hadn't been satisfied yet.
"Intermission should be for fucking," I begged into Auguste's palm, but it came out as gibberish.
"This bench is going to smell like her for eternity," Jonathon said, his index finger rimming gently around the opening of my cunt, Auguste's just gently playing in my ass, occasionally running down to gather more of my arousal to keep his movements smooth.
"Be a good girl and finish me off, mon coeur, and the doctor and I will tell you what we have planned for act three."
Act three. I'd barely made it to the end of act one—a rather spectacular finale of every restrained human on stage being stuffed mouth, cunt, cock, and ass by creatures I'd never even dreamed of before Rooksgrave—without screaming for someone to fuck me, and they were saying I had another entire act to sit through before they had plans for me?
I growled and dove down, Auguste's hand pulling away as I took him into my mouth, as deep as I could without gagging too much. I certainly wouldn't be telling him now, but I really loved to suck Auguste's cock. He always tasted so clean, and he held my head just right, encouraging me to take more than I could on my own without forcing me. I pulled hard, hollowing my cheeks, and was rewarded with a buck of his hips.
"I wish I could lick up all this juice she's spilling," Jonathon said with a sigh, instead rubbing it into my already slippery thighs.
"She'd come in a heartbeat," Auguste grunted, nudging me a little farther down and letting out a groan.
The lights in the theater flickered.
"Quick, mon coeur. You don't want to miss the opening."
I whined and started to suck greedily, bouncing my head on his cock, letting my drool make the way easier.
Auguste hissed and began to fuck my mouth, just lightly tapping the back of my throat before finally settling himself deep with a long moan of satisfaction. I waited just long enough for him to sag and stop twitching before sitting up abruptly. Their hands both pulled away from my sex, my now messy chemise falling back into place. I scowled at the pair of them.
They'd removed their jackets, undone their ties, and they both looked flushed and relaxed from release.
How nice for them.
"Give me a very good reason why I shouldn't swan dive over this balcony into an audience that'd surely be glad to fuck me stupid," I snapped.
Auguste's eyes went black and he let out a low growl, but Jonathon just laughed and bundled me onto his lap, kissing my cheek.
"Would you like to be on that stage, little girl?" Jonathan murmured.
My eyes widened and I stilled, turning to meet his eyes. They were rimmed with green. Mr. Tanner might've been patient, but he was definitely close at hand.
"Tonight?"
"Act three is open to the audience," Jonathon said, waggling his eyebrows. "Mr. Tanner would like to show you off."
"Yes."
I didn't even hesitate, and Auguste laughed, tucking himself back into his pants. "I told you."
"You would have to be a very good girl and do exactly as you're told," Jonathon said, voice going deep and gravelly. "There is a toy I'd like to try that uses electricity to—"
"Yes," I repeated quickly. "Anything."
"Don't just say yes," he snapped, green flashing, waiting for me to press my lips shut and nod. "It will sting, but there'll be pleasure too. Mr. Tanner will fuck you after. We can blindfold you if you—"
"No blindfold," I blurted out.
The lights in the theater were dimming already and I wanted to settle and turn to the stage, but I wanted the promise of getting to be on that stage with Mr. Tanner even more.
"The dark bothers you?" Jonathon asked.
"She wants to see them looking at her," August answered. I blushed, but nodded and Jonathon just grinned.
"Of course she does," he said, and kissed my forehead. "And we like to show you off, our little jewel."
"Your good girl," I answered, since thinking of jewels made me think of Amon and worry how he might feel about me being on stage for so many eyes to admire. It was my choice, and I wanted it.
"The very best," Auguste purred, sliding in close so I was squeezed between the men.
Auguste pulled his coat up from the floor and draped it over me. I was a bit of a mess now. He'd torn my slip earlier while playing with me and then mussed my hair while I'd sucked him off. My gown was on the floor, and I doubted I'd be back in it until the show—and my performance—was over, but I was still trapped in this damn corset.
I shifted uncomfortably, and Jonathon tutted down at me. "You really hate it, don't you?"
"You're welcome to try it on and see how you like it," I whispered back.
Auguste huffed a laugh, fangs pressing adorably into his bottom lip. "Apologies, mon coeur. But you look delectable," he said with a flick of his eyes at my breasts.
The curtain opened before I could answer, and I held my breath, waiting for the next act.
A solitary light hit the center of the stage, revealing an enormous square tank, full to the brim with faintly murky water. At the bottom of the tank, a blue shadow rolled, spreading to fill every corner. A group of women entered from the left, giggling, hands linked, dressed only in slips and stockings and simple underthings. They were chasing one another, playing around the giant tank, laughing at their distorted images through the water.
I gasped as the blue smear at the bottom of the tank rolled and moved. It was alive!
"Where did they find one?" Auguste breathed, leaning forward to look at Jonathon on the other side of me.
"Perhaps one came to—"
"Shh," I hissed, swatting at them both.