hasn’t thought about in so long they seem figments of his imagination. A painted world from a hag’s tarot cards, a wolf howling at the full round moon, a dark cape swirling around a blood red rose...
... and a woman with red-brown hair and brave blue eyes.
Chapter Nineteen
The moon is full. I can tell by the fact that I am human and chained like an animal next to my own goddamned bed. I sit against the wall in the dark and gaze out the open window at the black night sky. The moon’s glow is barely visible through the clouds. Everything is so dark my eyes strain to make out the barest hint of shadows.
I was quiet last night, so Jacques decided to call off the guards at my door tonight. He does that sometimes. They’re not really necessary anymore. Not when the chains that keep me confined to my bed chamber are as thick as my wrist and anchored so deep in stone even the simpering brooder can’t break them. But they like to remind me every so often that, should I attempt an escape, I will not get far.
They will kill me dead on sight, with the happy knowledge that my curse will bring me right back to life in a matter of minutes. Just enough time for them to drag me down to the dungeon, chain me up again and search out the keys I managed to get off of some naive soul or another. I would never see the light of night again.
So here I am, in the dark, with nothing to do. God, I’ve never been so bored in my life. Well, a man has to entertain himself as he will. I haven’t fucked a woman in nine thousand days, not counting the ones when I’m not... here. That’s over twenty four years without a slick, warm cunt stuck on my cock.
My pants, or rather, the brooder’s pants, because he rips through all of mine when I change into him, are already pooled around my lap and my ballocks are so heavy I keep shifting in place to relieve the pressure. Out of patience, and finding no good reason why not, I shove the pants lower and grab the source of my troubles by the base.
The pride and joy of any man as well endowed as I am. God’s most magnificent creation.
Woman was an afterthought so man would have something to stick it into.
My vault of memories is extensive, but when I close my eyes, it is my imagination that paints pictures for me in my mind. One fair haired menace in particular, with lips full and plump and breasts just enough to fill my palms. The lovely young Madame Lafarge.
I stroke myself, imagining her mouth on me, cupping my balls and taking me so deep she cannot breathe. Her tongue would be wicked. There are two kinds of women—those who use their tongues to speak, and those who use it for something else. Angelique is definitely the latter.
I would wrap her hair around my fist and guide her mouth exactly as I want it, and she would look at me the entire time and say, “Yes, my Lord,” to anything I told her to do.
A small gasp in the darkness makes my eyes open. The door is ajar and light filters into the anteroom. Not enough to see details, but enough that I know I am not alone. The Beast’s senses sometimes carry over to my human form. Curious if this is one of those times, I inhale deeply and I grin, recognizing the scent of female arousal. It is not anyone of my household that stands just behind my doorway, watching me pleasure myself.
“Come here,” I say.
Silence.
“Do you like what you see?”
A blond head peeks from around the door frame and I grin wider. That little minx. How in the hell did she manage to get to the castle, let alone inside and up to my chambers? “Good evening, Angelique.” My cock twitches in my hand. I give it another stroke to settle it. “Come closer.”
Hesitantly, she steps into my chamber. “It’s true,” she says. “You really are cursed.”
I laugh. “Does this look like a curse?”
She stares at my cock and licks her lips.
“What did you come here for?”
“I... I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” I counter. “Tell
... and a woman with red-brown hair and brave blue eyes.
Chapter Nineteen
The moon is full. I can tell by the fact that I am human and chained like an animal next to my own goddamned bed. I sit against the wall in the dark and gaze out the open window at the black night sky. The moon’s glow is barely visible through the clouds. Everything is so dark my eyes strain to make out the barest hint of shadows.
I was quiet last night, so Jacques decided to call off the guards at my door tonight. He does that sometimes. They’re not really necessary anymore. Not when the chains that keep me confined to my bed chamber are as thick as my wrist and anchored so deep in stone even the simpering brooder can’t break them. But they like to remind me every so often that, should I attempt an escape, I will not get far.
They will kill me dead on sight, with the happy knowledge that my curse will bring me right back to life in a matter of minutes. Just enough time for them to drag me down to the dungeon, chain me up again and search out the keys I managed to get off of some naive soul or another. I would never see the light of night again.
So here I am, in the dark, with nothing to do. God, I’ve never been so bored in my life. Well, a man has to entertain himself as he will. I haven’t fucked a woman in nine thousand days, not counting the ones when I’m not... here. That’s over twenty four years without a slick, warm cunt stuck on my cock.
My pants, or rather, the brooder’s pants, because he rips through all of mine when I change into him, are already pooled around my lap and my ballocks are so heavy I keep shifting in place to relieve the pressure. Out of patience, and finding no good reason why not, I shove the pants lower and grab the source of my troubles by the base.
The pride and joy of any man as well endowed as I am. God’s most magnificent creation.
Woman was an afterthought so man would have something to stick it into.
My vault of memories is extensive, but when I close my eyes, it is my imagination that paints pictures for me in my mind. One fair haired menace in particular, with lips full and plump and breasts just enough to fill my palms. The lovely young Madame Lafarge.
I stroke myself, imagining her mouth on me, cupping my balls and taking me so deep she cannot breathe. Her tongue would be wicked. There are two kinds of women—those who use their tongues to speak, and those who use it for something else. Angelique is definitely the latter.
I would wrap her hair around my fist and guide her mouth exactly as I want it, and she would look at me the entire time and say, “Yes, my Lord,” to anything I told her to do.
A small gasp in the darkness makes my eyes open. The door is ajar and light filters into the anteroom. Not enough to see details, but enough that I know I am not alone. The Beast’s senses sometimes carry over to my human form. Curious if this is one of those times, I inhale deeply and I grin, recognizing the scent of female arousal. It is not anyone of my household that stands just behind my doorway, watching me pleasure myself.
“Come here,” I say.
Silence.
“Do you like what you see?”
A blond head peeks from around the door frame and I grin wider. That little minx. How in the hell did she manage to get to the castle, let alone inside and up to my chambers? “Good evening, Angelique.” My cock twitches in my hand. I give it another stroke to settle it. “Come closer.”
Hesitantly, she steps into my chamber. “It’s true,” she says. “You really are cursed.”
I laugh. “Does this look like a curse?”
She stares at my cock and licks her lips.
“What did you come here for?”
“I... I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” I counter. “Tell
Similar Books
