She knew she shouldn't dally so long in the woods. Her mother and father
worried so when she was out alone too late. But it had been a long, lazy
autumn day and the woods were full of delicious wild mushrooms. She knew
father loved wild mushrooms, so she had spent the whole afternoon gathering
the best specimens up in her skirts. She'd got so many that it made walking
really slow. So slow that she realised it was getting dark, and she was
still hours away from home. She didn't want to leave the mushrooms after all
that effort, so when she came across her father's shack by the brook she
decided that it would be alright to stay the night there. After all, father
stayed here at night often. She slipped into the shack. She found a
sheepskin to lie on, laid her precious crop of mushrooms on the floor and
with a huge yawn, she settled down to sleep.
Outside, the Harvest Moon rose full, baleful and fireglow-orange on the
Horizon.
A man's tortured scream split the night, turned into a deep-throated
animal's howl. A wolf pack greeted the rising of the blood moon and the
arrival of their lord.
She awoke from her doze with a start, hearing the scream. She looked around,
too sleepy to be terrified but too scared to sleep. The door to the hut
shivered in its frame as something huge hit it. She only had time to gasp
and draw away before the door splintered asunder. Fireglow moonlight
outlined a huge. muscular body and glinted on ivory fangs. The werewolf
leapt upon her, wrestled her to the ground... she fainted.
She awoke in the dark, the smashed lamp by her side. For an instant she
thought she was in her bedroom in the farmhouse, that she had just had a bad
dream. Then she felt the pressure from the rough ropes crudely tied around
her wrists and ankles... and heard the hoarse sound of the werewolf's breath
in the darkness. She screamed.
Paws reached out of the blackness and grabbed hold of her hair, pulled her
head roughly back. As she screamed and fought, the werewolf muscled a wad of
cloth into her mouth to quiet her screams. Then with one claw, he picked at
the lacing of the terrified girl's bodice... and began to undress her!
The sounds of the night filled the hut. Her blood roared in her ears, her
panic rising to fever pitch as she struggled to get free of her bonds... but
all that she managed to do was to arouse the beast. The beast that hungered
for her flesh, for her soft skin... the beast that removed her peasant
blouse with surprisingly delicate touch, the claws that could rend her in an
instant somehow caressing, gentle... but still insistent. There would be no
saying "No" this night.
Nor would she have if she were able to speak.
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