Viola Grace - Saguinary Seduction, page 16
The wolf sat silently watching me from the corner of the room.
We stared at each other, waiting, then suddenly, the wolf began to change.
Within minutes, Christopher stood there. “Hello, Damion,”
he said.
“Christopher,” I replied, relaxing, my fangs retreating. “Was there something you forgot to tell me?” I wasn’t that surprised really. For some reason, this made sense.
He smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
“Um. And I, you.”
He walked over to me, and began to undo the buttons on my shirt. “I want you, naked.”
I smiled. How could I not? “Is that so? Aren’t you scared?”
I mocked. We both knew that he wasn’t.
He laughed, his eyes shining. My shirt was tossed on the sofa. He reached for my pants, yanking me up against him as he unzipped them without fan fair. “The other night, you so 141
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enjoyed my thoughts, the sensations you were stirring in my body, I’ve come back tonight to return the favour.”
“How kind of you,” I licked my lips. He placed his hand in my hair and drew my mouth to his. He allowed me to bite his tongue, taste the blood there. His hand moved down to cup my balls, roughly handle my cock, which was already hard.
“I love you,” he whispered, grabbing my hair and brutally pulling my head back. He ran his palm over my nipples. “Get on your knees, vampire, and suck my cock.”
I laughed, sinking down onto the floor. “My beautiful Christopher,” I breathed, “my wolf.” I sunk my teeth into the large blue vein running down his rock hard cock. The blood surged into my mouth and I used it to slide my lips up and down his shaft. He caressed my hair.
“You’re a fiend,” he grunted his pleasure.
And that’s what I am really, a fiend. Only now, I have two obsessions. One is the blood, always the blood, and the other one is Christopher, my wolf, who can give as well as he gets. It was a bond forged in paradise, or in hell, depending on your point of view of course.
So remember, there is a little bit of the dominant and the submissive in all of us, and as I hang here handcuffed, my cock bound, my nipples clamped, with Christopher mercilessly using my ass, I can’t help feel sorry for the Marquis. As a mortal, he would have never been able to push the boundaries the way Christopher and I can.
So now you know where I live. It’s the dark old house with the broken down porch. Christopher has yet to fix it. Between you and me, I don’t think he knows how to fix it. Drop by sometime after sunset. I have a lot of time on my hands. We both do.
142
Erotic Ramblings of a
Werewolf
D.J. Manly
kay, Damion had his turn. Now, it’s mine. That’s only fair, Oisn’t it? First off, what is all this shit about the Marquis de Sade? Damion is no Marquis de Sade, believe me. He’s a vampire, and okay, he’s a hot, sexy, hunk of a vampire, but he’s not and I repeat, some sort of disciple of the Marquis.
Honestly!
And get a load of the way he writes, so damn stuffy! Well, thank the stars, and the moon, he has me around to modernize him. Oh yeah, by the way, my name is Christopher. I’m a werewolf…a lou garou in French. I like it in French…it’s so much sexier, n’est pas? Okay, I’m making fun of him. I know.
You did read his story, didn’t you? I loved the title, so I stole it.
Is that considered plagiarism? It’s not word for word. So, sue me!
Anyway, I could spend my time making fun of Damion’s erotic ramblings, and quoting him all over the place, but I won’t, God, I am obsessed enough with him already. Actually, I was told to stay away from him in no uncertain terms by the leader of my pack. Now, don’t go singing that stupid song by The Shangri La’s in your head. I know you want to. How does it go—oh yeah… she met him at the candy store…and that’s when she fell for the leader of the pack. Something like that. Anyway, I 143
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digress. Back to Damion. So, let me tell you the story of how I lusted over a vampire, and what happened to me before we met. You already know what happened when Damion finally got his hands on me, and me on him. Yum. More about that later, I promise.
So, I’m Christopher. I was bitten at a full moon by a pack leader called, you ready…Alfa Wolf. I guess you’ve figured out already that that’s not his real name, but for the life of me, I can’t get him to tell me, so, I call him Alf…if you want. But don’t let him know I called him that. He won’t be impressed.
Want to know more about Alf? Well, he’s tall, great body, sexy, but he’s not…I repeat, he’s not Damion. Damion would make you melt to look at him. Alf can get you hot, but it takes time because he’s surly and his dominating arrogance can be a real turn off, to some people. He doesn’t have Damion’s charm.
But. He’s a fantastic lover—shush, now don’t go telling that to Damion, because Damion would go all vampirish on me.
Damion and Alf are now enemies. Of course, that’s because of me, but personally, I love it. Who in hell wouldn’t love two hunks fighting over them? And as long as Damion wins the battle eventually, it’s good fun. It keeps things hot and interesting.
I love Damion. Did I mention that? I really do and I tend to get all gooey and stuff over him. Sincerely, I’d die without him and that scares me a little. I never expected to be in love like this. Hell, I just wanted to fuck him. And thus begins my story.
I was just an average guy, young, fairly good looking, I guess, and gay. Yes, I love cock. There is no denying that. And from the time I was old enough to appreciate cock, I had it…in my mouth, in my ass, everywhere. On the night of my eighteenth birthday, there was a full moon. I shit you not. And that’s when all the werewolves prowl around. Now, contrary to what you might have heard, werewolves do not, and I repeat, do not, go kooky and howl at the moon whenever it makes an appearance. They also do not change into a wolf against their will.
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Come on, people. Give us a little more credit than that. The change is voluntary and prowling the night is done when the mood strikes. There is something, however, about a full moon.
It affects everyone. People do crazy things when the moon is full. The night of my birthday, I was sloshed. I had myself quite a sexual feast in the backroom of Appetizer, which is a gay bar with attitude, although I wouldn’t exactly call it rough trade. I walked out of that bar, drunk, but happy. Several men tried to pick me up on my way out, but I ignored them. I truly wanted to be alone. The moon was beautiful and the stars were bright. I was to start university in a week and I was in one of my, let’s-contemplate-where-I-want-to-be-in-five-years kind of mood.
Now, what was I thinking when I came face to face with Alf? I was thinking about the art program at the university. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but my mother wasn’t well and she wanted me to stay close by. Go figure, and no, I’m not a mama’s boy. Alf—God I wish he’d just tell me what his real name is…I hate calling him that—anyway, he has dark brown hair hanging to the middle of his back and eyes to match. He has a great body, and in spite of all my determination to spend the last few hours of my birthday in solitude, I did a double—
no, triple take when I saw him. He smiled at me, or sneered, depending on one’s perspective. We were in the parking lot. I had, in all my wisdom, parked my vehicle near the woods.
Don’t ask!
“So,” he said, “wanna’ fuck?”
That was Alf, all charm, liked to get right down to the basics. So I said, “Yeah.” All muscle, and his cock, well, fully loaded and ready to fire. And remember, although I didn’t know it at the time, this guy is an alpha werewolf. There is something about them…so male…so dominant. Face it, there’s a little something in all of us deep down that enjoys the thought of being sexually dominated. And if you read Damion’s so-called memoirs, ramblings—or whatever in hell he calls it—you know I have no shame when it comes to a little role play.
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Alf dragged me into the woods—not far, just far enough to hide us from the road. We stood in a clearing. “Take ‘em off,”
he growled. Yes, he actually growled…deep, raunchy. I’m getting hard now remembering. It was sexy. I took off my clothes slowly, not to tease him so much, but because I couldn’t take my gaze off his sculptured abs, not to mention the substantial bulge in his pants. I wondered if it would hurt…ooh yes, it was going to hurt like hell. Yum.
Anyway, I wasn’t going fast enough for him because he grabbed me and ripped the shirt off my back. He would have torn my pants to shreds as well if I hadn’t of protested. Those pants had cost me an arm and a leg and I was just a little pissed about the shirt, or I would have been, had he not been such a dish. I took down my pants, gave him a seductive look, then, all hell broke loose. I’m telling you this, and no one else, I practically pissed myself when he began to change.
His eyes changed first, from brown to amber, then amber rimmed with red. I think I might have said, what the hell, but who knows. Then the hair—fur—sprouted on his hands and up his arms. The shirt his wore ripped to pieces as his chest expanded and his arms doubled in size. I noticed he had kicked off his shoes—something he taught me to do later on unless I wanted to be buying a new pair of shoes every month.
He was naked, I guess with hair everywhere—then the nails, long and sharp—claws—and finally his face transformed into that of—not a wolf exactly, but…a—yeah…a wolf…but huge, savage looking. I saw his jaw open. He was salivating.
His teeth were razor sharp and headed directly for me. He yanked me around and held me fast. I couldn’t move in part because I was frozen with fear. He entered me without hesitation, and yes, it probably hurt like hell, but I couldn’t feel it because at the same time, huge, sharp dripping teeth clamped down on my shoulder. I felt the bite ripping into my flesh, then blackness.
When I opened my eyes, I was in some kind of a basement.
It smelled damp, like the sewer. I was naked and cold. A huge crater-like hole replaced where my arm used to be. It was 146
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nasty. I just about puked looking at it. I stressed right out. Part of me thought I’d drunk too much and imagined it all, but that didn’t explain where the hole came from. I fell asleep again, exhausted and then someone, or something, woke me.
I looked up into that face and I went nuts. Fear and anger mingled into some unholy mix, causing me to lose it completely. I wanted to kill him and, at that point, I didn’t even know the worst of it. He laughed at me. I punched and kicked him. He just stood there, laughing at me. I beat on him until I slipped down to the floor, drained of energy. I placed a hand on my bloody pulp of a shoulder and sighed. “Are you a madman? Do you mean to kill me now? What the fuck are you exactly?”
“The wound will heal quicker than you think,” he said nonchalantly. “And you will soon find out what I am. Last night, I made you in my image.”
“What?” I blinked.
“I am a werewolf and soon you will be, too. When the moon rises tonight…”
I began to laugh. “Sure, and I met a vampire just the other night.”
“Perhaps you did. It’s possible.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I forced myself to my feet. “You’re insane.
How long do you intend on keeping me here?”
“I don’t.” He shrugged. “You’re free to go.” He opened the door for me and I left, running until I could run no more. He never warned me of what was to come. Of course, I wouldn’t of believed him if he had. I was completely unprepared when the sun went down. I didn’t know how to control it, you see. It gripped me, this transformation, and wouldn’t let me go. I became werewolf, and hunted, thirsting for blood, but I didn’t hurt anyone. I fought it. I felt like a drunk—shaking, needy, finally hiding deep in the woods until it passed. I must have fallen asleep and when I woke up, there was a littering of dead animal corpses all around me. Then, I went looking for Alf. I found him the next night, or rather, he found me. He put me up against the wall in a dark alley and laughed at me again.
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“What did you do to me?” I demanded. I struggled, finally hanging there against the wall, my feet kicking out. He held me with one hand.
“I told you, you’re like me, a werewolf.” He let me fall to the ground and then began to walk.
I followed anxiously. “Make it go away.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?” The tears came to my eyes. “Why me?”
“I wanted you in my pack.” He met my eyes. “Come home with me tonight, Christopher. I will teach you how to control it.”
What else could I do? So I did. I went home with him.
Now, I’m sure you’re curious about what it’s like to be with a werewolf—especially an Alfa male who is truly convinced that once he bites you, he owns you. I always had fantasies about being truly dominated by some hunk of man, but my fantasies were nothing like this.
His apartment or den if you like, was very fancy, a penthouse high in the sky, overlooking the city. When I followed him inside, he dimmed the lights and poured me a drink, which I regarded suspiciously for a few seconds before tasting. He watched me with those eyes of his from the corner of the room—much like a wolf watches their prey before pouncing. But I was no longer his prey. “Take off your shirt,”
he said. “I’ll take care of your shoulder.”
“Do you have some special—”
“Yeah,” his mouth twisted. “It’s special. You’re already feeling it, aren’t you?”
‘What?” I paused in removing my shirt.
“The change. Already, you’re feeling it.”
I shuddered. He was right. It was like twinges in my legs, my arms, even behind my eyes. “How do I—”
“Take that bandage off your shoulder. Lie down on the sofa on your stomach and close your eyes.”
I laid my shirt aside and did as he suggested. I had a hard time keeping my eyes closed though because I really wanted to see what he was up to. There was fear, but of course, that fear 148
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heightened my sexual arousal. By the time he was close enough to touch me, I was hard as rock. A rough, wet tongue lapped over my shoulder. I jumped. A hand pressed me back down to the sofa. I felt it lap me again.
“The saliva has healing properties,” he said.
It felt good, damn good. The tongue moved downward.
“To control the change, you have to concentrate. Picture yourself the way you are normally each time you feel it.
Eventually you’ll get better at it.”
A hand reached under my hips and began to undo my pants. I stiffened. Within seconds, the pants and underwear were removed. That tongue lapped over my ass cheeks, then trailed down between my crack. It teased me a moment, then I felt hands spreading my cheeks and that tongue delving down into me. Long, pointed, rough, it wasn’t a human tongue. It was God damned sensational. He teased me awhile, then, began to tongue fuck my anus. Um. Gave a completely new meaning to rimming.
I was going nuts and when I felt a hand, covered with fur and tipped with long dangerous nails, lightly scrap down the length of my cock, I panicked, and tried to get away. One hand held me down. That tongue continued thrusting and my cock was handled and I mean handled. I was turned onto my back and then I saw his face. It was still human, but the eyes—the eyes were amber, the eyes of a predator. He moved his tongue down my chest and swept it across my nipples, then he captured my cock and my testicles in his mouth. I could feel his sharp teeth lightly graze my cockand balls as he sucked, licked and swallowed. Suddenly, my legs were hoisted over my head and his cock nudged my opening.
“Lube, condoms?”
“Not necessary. You’re a wolf now.”
He lifted his head and howled as he rammed my ass with his gigantic cock. And you know, I didn’t feel pain. I felt only pleasure and I didn’t even realise until I was down on all fours on the floor, that I had become wolf. I was distracted. What do you want! We fucked like animals, pardon the pun, and when I 149
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lay spent on the expensive carpet, he walked around me, once again, in his human form.
He said simply, “you’re mine now, Christopher. Your cock, your ass. You are not to fuck anyone else without my consent.
Is that clear?”
I nodded. What else could I do? I lay there, a werewolf, totally fucked, in more ways than one. Then I was introduced to the others and it became tolerable, even exciting. I got better at controlling the shifting the more I practised. Sex was certainly fantastic becoming more and more feral, but Alf got a little territorial, so to speak, and I was beginning to feel smothered.
I liked Alf—not always, but overall. But I didn’t like him enough to want to be with him all the time. And he didn’t play fair. He was allowed to fuck anyone he chose, but we and the others in his pack, weren’t. Also, I was getting beat up often. I was his favourite, although I was told constantly that was only temporary. It caused a lot of jealously among the other males whose only sexual release was available through Alf himself.
That’s another story I could tell you about sometime, about how us wolves fucked each other and often when Alf was gone.
Then, I saw Damion—my Damion.
The first time I saw him was by the light of the moon. He had moved into that creepy old house next door, the one with the broken down porch. He only came out at night. I assumed he worked the night shift. What drew me to him were his looks. He was absolutely beautiful and his beauty was the kind you didn’t see in this day. He looked as if he just stepped out of an oil painting and I couldn’t get enough looking at him.
It became a waiting game, waiting for him to come out of that house, holding my breath as he stood outside, hoping he wouldn’t disappear from view immediately. My greatest times were when he would stand there looking around the property for a few minutes, or up at the moon. My mouth would become dry and I’d have to touch myself just because my cock would be hard as rock and leaking.
