Friday, October 20, 2017

One Hour Prompt: The Spoils of the Rose War

  I haven't posted in a long time but that's because I started a new job and I love it but we've become short staff so I've been working so much that I've been too tired to post or write. This is just an exercise prompt to help shake something loose.



* * * * * * * 

The stone in Lady Gwendolyn Blackburn's stomach sank deeper as she neared London. She stroked the string bracelet her brother Thomas had made her from the string of his bow, threaded with a black leather strap and a small wooden crucifix. Everywhere Lancastrian supporters cheered while Yorkists trembled with fear at what the new king would do to them. The rest of England only sighed. A new red king. At least this one seemed in possession of his senses unlike poor pious King Henry VI.

Who was this upstart Henry Tudor? He seemed to have come out of nowhere. He had a thin thread of claim to the throne. But with the death of King Richard III and the York Princes vanishing as if in thin air there was no one left to challenge him. 

Lady Gwen's throat tightened as she rode through the streets seeing other nobles she recognized from the York faction. Many hid their feelings; they would not show fear in front of this usurper, but Gwen could see their knuckles turn white as they gripped the reins. It had been a month since Henry Tudor’s victory at Bosworth Field. Tensions between the defeated Yorks and the triumphant Lancastrians were still tenuous. 

Lady Gwen was the daughter of a rich Baron Geoffrey Blackburn who was a staunch Yorkist. His mother, Gwen's grandmother, Lady Isabeau Comtois came over to England with Katherine Valois and remained her lady in waiting even through her secret marriage to Owen Tudor. Lady Isabeau had been famous for her cunning and calculating nature, never fully committing to one side or the other in the Cousins' War. 

All the Blackburn men were dead. Lady Isabeau became the matriarch of the family and was now relying on her granddaughter to keep favor with the new king. Geoffrey had signed over his entire fortune over to his daughter. All the Blackburn lands and their home Oakenhart belonged to Lady Gwen. 

For weeks Lady Gwen waited for the king’s army to come for her but nothing. Then finally they received a messenger with a summons to court. Lady Gwen was to be taken to Westminster in London to pledge loyalty to the new king. Gwen's mother was close to tears, almost crushing her daughter in a suffocating hug. Lady Isabeau was calm and whispered, "Commit to no one but show your loyalty to this new king."

* * * * * * *

“Gwen!” 

Lady Gwen turned to see her childhood friend the Princess Elizabeth with her sister the Princess Cecily. Though raised since childhood to show decorum and grace, these two young women were far too close like sisters to allow etiquette to stop them. Elizabeth embraced Gwen who returned the warmth. They were like the sun and moon. Elizabeth had the golden Woodville looks of the sun while Gwen was dark and pale like the moon. 

"Lizzie," Gwen whispered vehemently. Gwen's mother Lady Juiliana was lady in waiting to Elizabeth Woodville. Lady Juliana was a staunch Yorkist and practically tore apart the kitchens when the men came to take Gwen away. Her mother-in-law told her to exercise caution.

"It seems they have gathered every White Rose in England," Gwen noticed.

“King Henry wanted every traitor brought to him,” said Cecily who took Gwen’s hand in hers. 

"Traitors?" Gwen was exasperated. "We fought for our King Richard!"

“Hush,” Cecily admonished Gwen, looking over her shoulder to see the new Tudor courtiers watching them with interest. 

"He declared himself king the eve before the battle," Princess Elizabeth explained much quieter as she threaded her arm through Lady Gwen’s. 

“Another Lancaster tyrant,” Gwen retorted then immediately regretted it as she remembered her friend was to marry this new king.

Princess Elizabeth only smiled. They decided to talk of other things since it had been a year since they had seen each other last.

"How is your lady mother and grandmother?” she asked.

“Both are well," Gwen said. “My mother was bereft when I departed for London. I was afraid she would rip into the soldiers who escorted me.” 

“I am glad to see you despite the circumstances,” Elizabeth spoke softly as two ladies passed them. Spies of Lady Margaret Beaufort, the King’s mother possibly. 

“I do not trust many here save my mother and my sisters… and you,” Elizabeth swore softly. “We will look after each other.” 

* * * * * * * * 

Three weeks had passed leaving Lady Gwen in limbo. Then one day as it rained heavily on London, Lady Gwen was summoned to the throne room. It was crowded with courtiers. At the head was Henry Tudor. He was quite thin with serious eyes and cold countenance. He was no Golden King of York like Edward IV once was or so Gwen’s father often praised. Princess Elizabeth was to marry this man? Elizabeth was far more fair and much higher born than this upstart king descended of a bastard line but Lady Gwen kept such thoughts to herself.

Lord Jasper, the king's beloved uncle, stood beside him while Lady Margaret Beaufort, the king's mother stood proudly on the other side of the throne. They were the new trinity that they would all have to pray to and swear by.

There were barons and viscounts swearing their loyalty to the new king fiercely. Then it was Lady Gwen's turn to swear an oath of fealty. She caught sight of a handsome young man with hazel brown eyes gleaming at her. She felt herself flush as he saw her as the center of some invisible universe. 

"Lady Gwendolyn Blackburn," the king's voice boomed bearing the weight of royal authority. Gwen refused to be intimidated. She held her head high, daring to stare down the Tudor King. Lord Jasper looked stern. Lady Margaret wrathful. King Henry irritated.

Gwen curtsied nonetheless. She heard her grandmother's cool voice in her head telling her to behave. Don't let the Blackburn temper rule you.

"Your father Baron Blackburn was a captain in the false King Richard's army," King Henry stated. 

Gwen bit her tongue so hard she winced. Henry thought it was because of his words or royal authority. 

"Do you understand now that he was wrong and swear allegiance to me, your rightful king?"

It was less a question and more a threat. If she said no then her family would suffer. Gwen took a deep breath then with her eyes downcast searing into the floor and a sore tongue said, "Yes, your Grace."

"And you will be a good and obedient subject?" he asked. Lady Gwen swallowed her pride though the effort threatened to choke her. 

"Look at me," King Henry ordered but softly as a wolf's growl.

Gwen obeyed, defiantly staring her dark eyes into the king's icy eyes.

"Yes," Gwen spoke more loudly and with much more convincing effort that her grandmother would have smiled in approval. "Your Grace. I humbly throw myself upon your mercy to forgive my father's error."

"Your father is dead now," Lady Margaret said stepping forward. “He was a traitor so all of his lands are forfeit.”

Anger ran thick through Gwen’s blood choking her heart. The Blackburn temper threatened to scorch her insides. She bit the inside of her cheek as she often did when tempted to say something vile. A miasma of tension hung in the air as Lady Gwen ventured further.

“Your Grace,” Lady Gwen stood tall with her chin held high. “My father signed our lands over to me before he went off to fight beside King Richard.” The king’s face grew tight as Gwen continued though the words tasted bitter on her tongue. “He was wrong to fight beside the false king but he no longer had any lands or riches.”

Lady Margaret was young when she gave birth to her son, only 13 but she had the face of an angry old crone. Her eyes went white with fury. Lord Jasper looked grim. The whole court erupted in a concerned loud whispering. Lady Gwen stood firm despite the storm she found herself in.

“Your family are traitors!” Lady Margaret shrieked which was unladylike. Gwen suppressed an urge to smile in triumph. “Your grandmother was a turn coat who professed undying loyalty to York!”

“My lady grandmother was a loyal friend to Queen Katherine Valois, your lady grandmother,” Gwen reminded the king. “Our grandmothers were friends and when she died mine had little choice but to ensure her family’s survival. It was either to bow to a new king or live in exile or have her head on a spike.” Lord Jasper whispered into his nephew’s ear.

After a few moments of trembling with rage, King Henry cooled then spoke, his voice strained, “My mother speaks truth.” The court held its breath. “Your family must be punished for siding with the York usurper. However…”

Lady Gwen’s fingers twitched as her throat tightened. Yet she kept a brave face. Out of the corner of her eye she could sense the intense fascinated stare of the man with the hazel brown eyes that were like two bronze coins.

“However since Lady Isabeau Comtois was a close friend to Queen Katherine de Valois,” Henry became more calm and flashed a wolfish grin. “I will only take half of your lands and your estate, Oakenhart.”

Gwen’s stomach dropped. Half? Take Oakenhart, her childhood home? Her grandmother’s voice was whispering to her but the hum of indignity raged like a stormy wind, It could have been worse. It could have been much more.

“It will be a gift showing your loyalty to me, your rightful king,” said Henry. His mother smiled, adding lines to her face and making her seem like an ugly jester. “You will also be my guest here at court.”

Lady Gwen’s face grew hot as she clenched her fists in her gown and bit the inside of her lip. She must have looked like a wild animal suddenly caged. Henry and his mother were daring her to counter with something insolent. He was looking for a reason to take everything. Lady Gwen wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Instead Gwen took a long deep breath that seemed to last hours but she managed to control the volume of her voice though the tone was still dry, “I bow to your Grace’s will.”

She curtsied though her legs trembled with rage. Her eyes blacker than a stormy night. Yet she never broke eye contact as she lowered herself to the pleasure of the king. She left the throne room then once she felt she was alone she leaned against the stone wall for support. Lady Gwen’s fingernails dug into the tapestry. She heard a small tear then a deep soft voice, “He was testing you.”

Lady Gwen whirled around to see the man with the bronze eyes and the intense stare looking at her with a smirk. She wanted to rip it off his face.

“Well done,” he continued. “I heard the Blackburns were a tenacious wrathful bunch but you seem to have your grandmother’s composure. Had you burst then he would have had an excuse to show his new strength and put you in the Tower.”

The mention of the Tower of London made Gwen’s blood run cold. All knew what happened to kings and noblemen in the Tower. Either they were murdered or disappeared into the walls like ghosts.

“Thank you,” Lady Gwen strained a smile. “But now my task is to regain my home which was wrongfully taken.”

“That would be simple enough,” he said.

“How so?”

“Marriage is the best way to gain alliances,” the man boldly raked his eyes over Lady Gwen. “A beauty such as you will have no trouble at all.” Gwen’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger at this stranger’s daring glances. “If you like I can suggest a groom who recently came into a large fortune and would be most happy to take you as a bride.” His tone implied something that Gwen did not like.

“That is my business,” Lady Gwen’s voice strained. The young man seemed puzzled at first, eyeing her as if she were playing a joke on him. Yet it was Gwen who had the feeling of being the subject of a terrible jest.  

“Actually it is,” he smiled arrogantly. “My name is Sir David Pierce. The King has just recently given me Oakenhart and half the fortune that comes with it.”

Gwen’s heart stopped. Her mouth was agape making Sir David laugh humorously. 

“Speechless I see,” Sir David’s bronze eyes blazed causing Gwen’s heart to skip. Yet like a wild mare she stamped her foot then spoke through gridded teeth, “I am in no mood for games, my lord.”

“I see now that your grandmother did not tell you.”

Sir David presented a letter to her that bore Lady Isabeau’s blue wax seal of a pelican with a bleeding heart, a symbol of the Comtois house. 

Gwen snatched it with more force than intended then read through the contents. Her grandmother’s elegant hand writing was unmistakable.

“She had written to me two weeks ago,” Sir David explained. “I accepted the proposal.”

Lady Gwen crumpled the letter then threw it back at Sir David with a look of defiance. Without a word she left him biting the inside of her cheek the whole way to her quarters. She slammed the door then stroked her bracelet with a furious finger as if transferring all of her frustration into the totem hoping it would relieve her of the injustice she was feeling.

* * * * * * * * *

Gwen was to be Lord Jasper's ward and be lady-in-waiting to Lady Margaret Beaufort. Gwen bit her tongue. She was hoping to be Princess Elizabeth's lady-in-waiting. Yet Gwen could see that it was Lady Margaret who held the power in court. Lady Gwen prayed that Elizabeth would marry and give Henry a prince and take that power from this old pious woman.

Lady Margaret wore black and red. If the House of York was the day then the House of Lancaster was most certainly the night. She had stern, unforgiving eyes that could be filled with the brimstone of hell if one displeased her. For displeasing her was to displease God.

“You will be a proper lady, humble and chaste,” Lady Margaret fondled her black rosary as if drawing strength from it. 

"Yes, my lady," Lady Gwen kept her head bowed, doing her best to act contrite.

“I hear you Northerners are more pagan than Christian,” she said with a voice like gravel. “That will not be tolerated here. You will pray for God’s forgiveness and perhaps His favor will once more smile upon you.”

It was true what she said about Northern England being somewhat pagan. Oakenhart especially held some tether to the old ways of the druids. Oakenhart was once a grove of sturdy oak trees that acted as a church to pagans then as a place of worship to newly converted Christians. A giant oak tree as old as the island kingdom stood in the courtyard sheltering the small chapel and library.

Lord Jasper was more kind which somehow vexed Lady Gwen more. He introduced her to his illegitimate daughters Joan and Helen that he had fathered on a Welsh woman. They were plain but had lovely eyes.

Lady Gwen was in the courtyard practicing archery. Archery was not lady like but Thomas taught her well. Their family's crest was a bow and arrow crossed below a stag's head. Hunting was in their blood. 

Gwen strung her arrow then fired. She missed the bulls eye. Lord Jasper permitted her to shoot. He thought it would help her feel more at home. London was once a shining city under the Yorks but under the Tudors felt like a strange land with a foreign court. 

"I want you to be happy here, Lady Blackburn," Lord Jasper had said at breakfast. "We can all be Englishman again instead of York and Lancaster. England will be at peace and prosper.”

“If you say so, my lord.”

Lady Gwen kept her answers short though she could have been less curt. She was begrudgingly grateful to Lord Jasper. Lady Gwen fired once more then finally hit closer to the mark though still missing the center. Her heart kept with some triumph then she heard someone clapping. She turned to see Sir David’s laughing bronze eyes that watched her with such presumption that made Lady Gwen fume.

He would follow her about, corner her and interrupt her thoughts even when she found a place to sit quietly and think. Not even the chapel was safe as she would feel his burning stare on the nape of her neck that made her heart flutter like a baby bird. They were not married and yet he acted as if she belonged to him. In a certain way she did but Gwen refused to go down easily. She was a wounded doe but it’s the wounded deer that leaps the highest.

“You are quite good, Lady Blackburn,” Sir David complimented. Why couldn’t he be ugly? His handsome face gave Gwen jitters.

“My brother taught me,” she said shortly as she strung another arrow. Her pride stung when she fired but missed the mark again.

“You should hold your elbow straighter and you shouldn’t close one eye,” Sir David offered despite the venomous look she gave him. 

“I have not strung a bow in a while,” Gwen defended herself. “Lady Margaret says it’s not dignified for a lady.”

Sir David smiled as if Gwen had said something amusing. 

“May I?” Sir David offered. However he did not wait for a reply. His body was pressed lightly against hers. Gwen’s pulse quickened as she felt his warm breath in her ear. Her skin erupted into goose flesh as she felt his hand firmly yet gently move her body into position. She was familiar with the archer’s pose. 

“Both eyes open now,” whispered David. His lips brushed the tip of her ear, Gwen was sure it was intentional but somehow she didn’t care. 

“Take a deep breath and… release,” David backed away just as Gwen fired the arrow. Finally it hit the red center. Gwen felt a glimmer of pride. She had momentarily forgotten about her disdain for Sir David.

“I would have gotten it without your help,” said Gwen suddenly remembering her distasteful position. 

“I know,” Sir David surprised her. Most men would have been struck by her insolence. Not many liked a proud woman. They stood in silence that seemed to stretch until David pursued, “How do you find life at court?”

“You mean as a prisoner?”

“It’s hardly a prison, Lady Blackburn,” chuckled Sir David dryly.

“Says the man who can leave whenever he pleases while I am here,” Lady Gwen searched for another arrow. “Praying on my knees on a cold floor, surrounded by wolves eager to rip me apart.”

“Lord Jasper is unkind to you?”

Gwen remembered Lord Jasper’s kind blue eyes and fatherly countenance. He was a battle worn soldier yet it had not made him bitter. If anything he seemed weary of war and longed for peace. 

“He’s tried,” Lady Gwen spoke quietly consumed with finding the right arrow. “I couldn’t have asked for a kinder jailor.”

Lady Gwen strung another arrow then without hesitation fired. However the force snapped the twine and she stumbled back wincing in pain. Her fingers bled. With swiftness Sir David took out a white cloth and wrapped Gwen’s red fingers and held it firm to stem the bleeding.

“You alright?” his bronze eyes grew wide with concern. Gwen could have drowned in those eyes. She wanted to but pride stopped her. She pushed him aside holding the cloth to her fingers.

“I am quite well, Sir David,” Gwen snapped. “I am no damsel to be pitied or petted.” She held out the bloodied handkerchief to her fiancé with defiance.

Sir David frowned. It was the first time she had seen such an expression. It made her feel better to know that she could wound him in some way while at the same time it made her heart ache. Then his expression softened.

“Keep it,” Sir David sighed. “What is mine is yours.”

“What is yours was always mine,” Gwen retorted. “It was taken from me. I will marry you because it is for the good of my family but do not think that you may seduce me.”

Sir David’s expression was unreadable. His lips compressed into a thin line.

“As you wish, madam,” Sir David bowed, his voice stale. Gwen watched him go leaving her with the stained cloth and a pain inside she didn’t understand.


* * * * * * *

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Literotica: Chained Heat 3

  



 * * * * * * * * *

Serafina wore a blue flower and white sundress that nicely showed off some cleavage while not making her seem too slutty. She tweeted to the world that she was off to Greece to get away and would be back to record her new album for next year. 

Serafina landed in Greece in the early AM. Her friend Crysta, a famous American model, picked her up in her limo and they drove to a villa on Santorini. The ivory white stone and sapphire blue domes of the buildings perfectly matched the sapphire clear waters of the island. Serafina felt like she was stepping into a Greek Myth, that she would see a siren or nymphs playing in the waters or meet a god in disguise on the road and be ravished.

Crysta had beautiful ebony skin with tightly curly black hair like an African princess and full pillowy lips and big round brown eyes. With her bone structure she could be a descendent of Nefertiti, Egyptian Queen. If she shaved her head then she could wear the queen’s head dress.  

Crysta, like most celebrities and the 1%, had a pet werewolf but also like many she treated hers more like an animal. Crysta’s werewolf was a fair skinned female named Kenya. Serafina shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the young woman next to her wearing a diamond studded collar glowered at the floor of the limo. She was willowy, pretty with pale skin and shoulder length brown hair that shined like bronze in the light. 

When Kenya looked up at her she had the greenest eyes Serafina had ever seen. They were like two precious stones that gleamed sadly in the light. Crysta caught her pet watching them.

“Don’t worry,” Crysta took out a little remote that looked suited to be a car alarm. Kenya’s emerald eyes widened as Crysta pressed a button and the werewolf female jerked and whimpered. 

“I have one of those handy shock collars,” Crysta smiled as her pet twitched on the seat. “Kenya has been misbehaving recently. She bit my assistant just last month close to full moon.”

Serafina’s throat went dry as she croaked, “What happened to your assistant?”

Crysta shrugged her sloping dark shoulders. 

“Possibly on someone else’s leash or put down,” Crysta reasoned rather casually that made Serafina’s skin crawl. “Newly made werewolves can be quite rabid you know.”

Most werewolves nowadays were domesticated through selective breeding. Pureblood werewolves had the most potent bites being descended from Alphas. Alphas were the first werewolf breeds, not one trace of human breeding within the blood line. Like purebred dogs, Alphas were often bred with their own relatives to keep their blood untainted by diluted bloodlines.

Serafina tensed in her seat as she felt her stomach churn at the sight of the poor collared werewolf female start to drool on the leather seat. Had sleeping with her own pet caused her to feel such sympathy?

“So where’s your pet? I thought you’d be bringing him here for a Full Moon Party,” Crysta asked excitedly.

Serafina took a deep breath to try and slow her pulse that quickened in the past few minutes. She smiled then said, “Cash hates flying.”

“Why not tranquilize him?” Crysta asked, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. 

“I don’t like doing that,” Serafina said frankly.

Crysta stared at Serafina for a long time then finally shrugged with a smile. They continued the ride with Crysta mostly talking about this big party happening tonight at the Greek villa they were staying at.

* * * * * * * * *

Serafina was jet lagged after her flight. Crysta said they were staying with an American actor, Garrett Ransom at his villa so they could rest before the party tonight. 

“They’re saying he’s the next big thing,” Crysta said with her brown eyes sparkling. “He’ll have his name on the Hollywood Walk of Fame soon.”

“Really?” Serafina yawned already thinking about the soft bed she was going to sleep in. She had heard of Garrett Ransom. He was definitely a hottie with dark hair, a strong jaw line and perfect muscular frame and full lips. His eyes were a mixture of blue and hazel brown as if he had a ring of copper around his iris. Classically handsome.

Serafina had seen him from across the room at a few parties and seen some of his movies. He was actually a good actor. Serafina never cried at much of anything but when she saw a Ransom film she felt a tear running down her cheek. 

“Kenya, come,” Crysta called her pet. A subdued Kenya climbed out of the stretch limo on her mistress’s leash. She walked on two legs at least, Serafina sighed instead of being forced to walk on all fours. 

“You’ll like him,” Crysta winked. “Some rebound sex will do you some good.”

Serafina couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh I see,” Serafina spoke slyly. “You’re trying to fix me up?”

“I feel bad,” Crysta grew somber. “I was the one who introduced you to MacAllister.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over him,” Serafina smiled. “I don’t.”

Crysta inspected Serafina thoroughly. She mused, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’ve already had some scandalous rebound sex.”

Serafina shrugged nonchalant but her smile would have put Mona Lisa to shame. Crysta didn’t press further but knowing her friend Serafina would have to be extra careful. The two friends walked into the villa with Kenya in tow.

* * * * * * * *

   Garrett had the hint of a cowboy accent. If he were shirtless and had a cowboy hat and denim jeans he’d be on the cover of some trashy romance novel. That appealed to most women… even to Serafina on occasion. 

 Crysta gave Garrett a cheek kiss European style. Her ebony cheeks darkened with arousal. 

“Garrett, this is my friend Serafina,” Crysta introduced.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Garrett’s brown and blue eyes twinkled. His handshake was firm and his skin felt hot against Serafina’s. 

“Only some of it’s true,” Serafina laughed. “You know how the tabloids like to dramatize everything.”

Garrett held onto Serafina’s hand a little longer than socially acceptable. 

“Come on in,” Garrett motioned them inside his Greek Island villa. The villa had a perfect view of the sapphire sea that met the pearly white sands. The salt wind combed through Serafina’s dark curls as she stood on the balcony taking in the exotic scenery. Garrett was expecting a few more guests later so gave Serafina and Crysta leave to take a nap and shower. 

Serafina suddenly heard a rubber ball hitting the pavement. Below she saw a dark man with a thin muscular frame that made him agile as well as strong most like. He had black ancestry but his skin wasn’t as dark as Crysta. His skin was lighter like coffee. 

He was facing off against two other players. Greek locals looked like but they both weren’t as tall as the man they were facing. What stood out to Serafina though was the silver collar around his neck with a name engraved on it. 

A werewolf pet. The werewolf dunked the ball, jumping higher than either of his opponents. He landed on his feet, sweat gleaming on his cocoa skin. One of the players threw him a towel as he held his hand out in signal for a time out. He walked over to the edge of the court and drank his water bottle then proceeded to pour the rest over his shaved head.

The breeze picked up a little, slightly lifting Serafina’s skirt as she felt a tingle in her loins and bit her lower lip. The werewolf took a deep breath. The pop star’s arms prickled with goose bumps as the werewolf turned up to meet her gaze. He caught her scent and his brown eyes glowed yellow. She could feel herself growing damp between her thighs, gripping the railing as if expecting herself to cum just by the intensity of his stare.

Serafina forced herself to turn away, breaking the spell the werewolf had on her. What the fuck just happened? Her heart raced and her throat felt dry. Her loins were on fire as a bead of sweat rolled down her neck down towards her heaving bosom. She had never felt so aroused by a look except with Cash but not at this magnitude. 

* * * * * * * * 

“The scenery is beautiful over here,” Serafina said over Skype. “White beaches. Sapphire water. You missed an opportunity.”

Serafina was wearing a loosely tied silk cream robe, a contrast to her gleaming olive skin. She recently lotioned up. Her hair still damp. Her cream white robe was slightly open revealing the swell of her full C-cup breasts. They were so tantalizing that Cash had to fight the urge to lick the screen. 

“I told you I hate flying,” Cash spoke dryly. 

“Well…,” Serafina leaned back, allowing some of her robe to slip temptingly off her shoulder. “Your loss. I never fucked a werewolf in a foreign country before.”

“You’ve never fucked a werewolf period.”

Serafina’s laughter came so clear through the screen it were as if she were in the same room. Cash felt himself harden. The moon was half full and Cash’s urges were getting stronger. Being with Serafina had sped up his sexual needs. He was too used to having a pussy to sheath into.

“How long are you going to be away? A week you said?” Cash asked trying not to sound eager. 

Serafina smirked. He wanted to wipe that smirk off her beautiful face and make her eat his fat cock. No doubt she’d enjoy it though. 

“I promise to be back a day after the full moon,” Serafina said. “Try not to wreck the place while I’m gone.”

Serafina stood up then with a seductive grin she untied her robe to reveal her every curve, every treasure that made her werewolf pet salivate. Then she pursed her lips making a smacking kiss sound before signing out. 

Cash boiled as he felt cum bubble from his mushroom head staining his jeans. 

* * * * * * * * 

Serafina put on something slinky and sexy. A deep red cocktail dress with a cowl to reveal the swell of her perky firm bosom. She wore her favorite black pumps with the diamond heels that made her legs look elegantly long and about 3 gold bangle bracelets on each wrist. Her favorite tear drop diamond earrings she received as a gift from some Arabian prince dangled from her ears every time she walked. 

The party was in full swing by the time she got down stairs. “Castle” by Halsey was playing. Walking down the stairs while it played gave her a certain hype. Crysta was with Kenya who looked more presentable in a simple green cocktail dress (to match her eyes) with see through tight long sleeves. But she still wore her shock collar studded with diamonds this time. 

“Sera!” Crysta called her over. Serafina saw that her friend had been talking to Garrett who’s eyes came alive when they rested on her. It was the man next to him holding a beer and wearing a collar that made her heart flutter. 

“I was worried you’d stay up there all night,” Garrett joked. A caterer came by with a tray of martinis and cocktails. Serafina took the pink bubbling martini with a cherry on a stick. 

“You have to order a drink, ma’am,” said the caterer. 

Serafina stared directly into the caterer’s eyes with her obsidian pools as she sipped the drink with her cherry lips. The pop star’s face creased with disdain then turned into an icy mask.

“This drink seems to have been made poorly,” Serafina said sweetly but the tone still held an edge that made to poor man cringe. “Not a real Manhattan. I’m doing this person a favor. Now you can stand here and make a fuss or you can deliver the rest of the drinks then go back to whoever made this one and tell them that their technique needs work.”

The caterer was dumbfounded. He looked to Garrett for help. Garrett chuckled then said, “Go on. The lady knows her drinks.”

The caterer nodded his head then like a rabbit made his break towards the table the drinks were meant for. 

“You’re kind of bossy,” Garrett said. “I like that.”

“Most would say I’m a bitch,” Serafina mused.

“Well most people are intimidated by a woman who knows what she wants and takes it,” Garrett raised his beer to her in celebration of her assertive behavior. “I’m not.”

Serafina smiled her best flirtatious smile but she couldn’t help but look over to the man next to him who was a bit taller than his master. The name engraved on his collar was: Dyre. 

“This is my werewolf,” Garrett introduced his companion finally. 

“He’s a pure breed,” Crysta glowed. Even she couldn’t resist the aura of sex Dyre was exuding from his pores. Serafina could see Kenya giving Dyre “fuck me” eyes. Human and werewolf females seemed drawn to him.

Dyre smiled, his brown eyes penetrating her skin and heating her core. 

“Love your music,” Dyre said. His voice was rusty but musical. A masculine tune full of primal energy. Serafina’s pussy spasmed at the sound. “Listen to it all the time.”

“Always nice to find fans among werewolves,” Serafina said sipping her stolen martini. Her throat had suddenly gone dry. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever met a pure breed before,” Serafina said curiously looking the pure breed up and down, imagining him shirtless in all his sweaty muscular glory from earlier. Dyre took a deep breath. He could sense the musk of her arousal, his eyes appraising her as well. 

“They’re pretty rare these days,” Garrett boasted. “But I managed to snatch one.”

“Excuse me,” Serafina suddenly felt like she had entered a small space. “I feel a bit dizzy. Maybe that Manhattan was potent after all…”

Before Garrett could say another word, Serafina walked past him and headed for the abandoned balcony. 

* * * * * * * * 

“Darkside” by Bishop Briggs began playing. Serafina loved Bishop Briggs. She wished her songs had that kind of edge. Serafina used to write songs like that until producers started telling her to write more club music about love and parties. 

Serafina inhaled the salt spicy air. She felt a little better. She wasn’t claustrophobic but being in that room with all those people suddenly felt suffocating. She felt so horny if she wasn’t in public she would stick her hand in her panties and start flicking her bean with abandon. She found herself missing her own werewolf. She looked up to see the moon half full. She wondered what Cash was doing to relieve his stress…

“Feeling better?” a voice spoke from behind her.

Serafina turned around, keeping a good grip on the railing to see Dyre standing close to her… a bit too close. Her nostrils filled with his musk making her feel weak in the knees. 

“You’re allowed to be out here without your owner?” Serafina asked though she may have sounded less strong than she intended.

“Garrett lets me do pretty much anything I want so long as I behave,” Dyre shrugged as he came closer to her, backing the pop star into the railing, blocking off any kind of escape. 

Dyre was giving off sexual vibes like a musky odor, making Serafina weak in the knees. She wished she had worn flats instead of pumps. 

“You okay?” Dyre raised an eyebrow. “You seem like you’re about to faint.”

“Maybe I’m claustrophobic and you’re crowding me,” Serafina retorted as she straightened her spine. “Or maybe I just don’t like you.” But his masculine scent was overpowering of sweat, the ocean breeze and the rubber of a basketball.

Dyre smirked then boldly leaned forward, whispering in huskily, “That’s not what my nose tells me.”

Before Serafina could utter a retort, Dyre pulled her into his strong embrace, crushing her lips in a passionate smothering kiss. He tasted bittersweet like salted chocolate. Though shocked at first, Serafina found herself melting into Dyre’s firm body, sucking on his lips and then his tongue. 

The world dissolved leaving nothing but the pulse of primal lust. Serafina dragged her manicured nails across Dyre’s back feeling the contour of each muscle making her swoon. Were all male werewolves so marble? That’s when Serafina thought about Cash waiting in his den at home. She stopped then pushed Dyre away with great effort.

Without saying a word Serafina walked briskly back to the party. Her head was spinning, her loins on fire, Serafina excused herself from the party. 

* * * * * * * * 

It was 3:00 AM and Serafina was wide awake. She tried to vent her sudden sexual frustration by masturbating but even after coming three times the pop star was still pent up, heat in her body and burning her cheeks as if there was an unquenchable inferno inside of her. A cold shower might help. Serafina’s room had a spacious bathroom and shower. 

Serafina stripped then looked at herself in the mirror. Her obsidian eyes stared back her full of dark desire, her breasts were firm and nipples so hard they were painful. Her pussy quivered and drizzled at the memory of Cash’s cock while her body burned with the memory of Dyre’s touch. Her lips were seared from his savage kiss. 

“Fuck…,” Serafina cursed quietly. Yet the word echoed against the grey tiles. Time for that cold shower.

Serafina stepped into the glass shower then turned on the shower. The water was ice cold jolting her senses to clarity. She ran her hands all over her body feeling goosebumps erupt all over her skin. Her hands strayed down towards her womanhood to find her clit still erect and throbbing. Fuck. The ice cold water wasn’t working. 

She heaved a heavy sigh as she played with herself, a wave of sensuality breaking over her. She closed her eyes and imagined strong masculine hands on her, rubbing her shoulders, running over her hips then squeezing her ass. It felt so real until Serafina felt someone else’s breath on her neck.

Serafina turned around startled to see Dyre smirking at her… and completely naked. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Serafina gasped covering her breasts and crossing her legs in an attempt to cover her exposed pussy. Her nipples were already embarrassingly stiff from thinking about Dyre.

“I needed a shower,” Dyre smugly grinned. “Pipes burst in my room though.”

Serafina looked down to see Dyre’s cock, raised, pointed at her pussy as if drawn by some magnetic force. For a brief moment the pop singer wondered what it would feel like to have that thick monster cock pounding her insides then she remembered to have some kind of decency. 

“So you use mine???” she exasperated. “Your owner is a bit negligent don’t you think? It’s close to full moon what if you go wild?”

“It’s not full moon yet,” Dyre shrugged as he backed Serafina into a corner, placing his hands on either side of her shoulders, his eyes glowing yellow again. He was taller than her by a few inches. He could have been an athlete in another life. Serafina was mesmerized as she watched the water trickle down his coffee skin. Serafina wanted to kiss down to his happy trail and lick along his shaft. She licked her lips.

“You seem like you need a release,” Dyre caressed Serafina’s neck, his thumb traced her chin then pressing on her lower lip to open her mouth so his thumb tip could invade. Dyre’s hand moved to the shower knob then twisted it. The water grew warmer. “My owner always says to be a gracious host.”

Serafina’s dark eyes became hazy with arousal, her eyelids lazily blinking as she took Dyre’s thumb into her mouth. She closed her eyes and moaned as she sucked on his thumb. She playfully traced her teeth along his thumb as her tongue flicked at the tip, showing Dyre what she would do to his cock.

Dyre roughly balled his fist in Serafina’s wet hair then once more kissed her brusquely, tongues sliding and wrestling for dominance. His body pressed against hers as if trying to make them into one. Serafina dug her fingers into Dyre’s flesh as the water rained down upon them. She could feel his body vibrate as he growled.

Her heart beat against her breast bone in a staccato rhythm that left her light headed. The pop singer felt powerless as the werewolf parted her legs and began fingering her feminine flower that despite the shower was dripping fresh hot cream. Dyre flicked Serafina’s bean that fattened in response. Serafina pressed her hands flat against the damp wall as the werewolf inserted a finger into her depths. Her muscles spasmed, locking around the wolf’s finger. 

“I watched you watching me earlier…,” Dyre whispered. Dyre’s finger dove deeper, slowly pumping in and out of her pussy then inserting another finger. Serafina covered her own mouth as a gasp of shock attempted to escape. She was afraid the echo would take flight from the room then spread like a terrible wind that would wake the whole island. 

“Tight,” Dyre’s voice was hoarse with lust. “I smell another’s scent on you.”

“You werewolves have too keen of noses,” Serafina licked her lips that felt dry all of a sudden like her throat. It could have been the steam. Her fingers twitched as Dyre probed deeper, this thumb pressing her love button making her whimper for mercy.

“I can smell him as clearly as I can smell your arousal,” Dyre growled. “It’s as strong now as it was today when I saw you on the balcony.”

Serafina closed her eyes letting waves of fire wash over her as the shower rained down on her. Dyre leaned in, growling in lust as he nibbled her ear causing a moan to melt from her pouty lips. His musk of sweat and rubber. The werewolf turned her around roughly, pressing her against the glass. He growled into her ear as he guided his turgid organ to her feminine petals.

“Since then I’ve wanted to bury my cock in that soft hot pussy of yours,” Dyre whispered hotly. “Feel that heat and fill you up until I had you screaming for only me.” Serafina shuddered with anticipation. His vehement vows were enough to melt her.

He didn’t tease her any longer. Dyre pushed into her, stretching Serafina’s canal so much she sobbed softly from the pain of it all. She was afraid he wouldn’t fit all the way in. She was sure there would be blood but then the pain melted into pleasure and the sobs turned into moans. His pulsating cock penetrated deep inside her causing her to moan as the head seemed to tap at her g-spot.

Serafina’s mouth was agape in ecstasy as Dyre pummeled her from behind. Tension and heat coiled in her stomach as tingles pulsed throughout her body. She got more into the passion as Dyre pumped faster. Suddenly a super nova imploded within Serafina. Every nerve ending became a spark as her body was wracked with shivers. 

Dyre was still going but Serafina could sense he was approaching the end. He let out a howl as she felt his hot seed fill her up then he collapsed into her, his forehead resting on her shoulder. He licked her neck then nibbled her ear lobe. He was still hard and pulsating inside her as he pulled out.

“Your master has the best hospitality,” Serafina sighed blissfully. 

“Glad I could be of service,” Dyre went to leave but Serafina caught his arm.

“I still feel a little pent up… and you still seem to have a bit of tension in your… abdominal area,” Serafina smiled seductively as she brought Dyre in for another lust-filled kiss that even had Dyre groaning with gratification. Serafina massaged Dyre’s still hard erection feeling it pulsate in her practiced palm.

* * * * * * * * 

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4…

Literotica Post: Nap Time Interlude

   I sent this to Literotica. I have other projects in the works that I hope to have done soon. Right now I'm working on some old stuff ...