Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters (48 page)

Four fingers filled her hole, and she cried out before
she could stop herself.  One hand reached up from the table to cup her breast,
pinch her nipple. The zaps of electric pleasure streaming from her tits
definitely eased Vincent’s path.

“That’s right,” she said, encouraging him.  Before she
knew what she was doing, her other hand found the back of his head and pulled
it to her lonely breast.  “Oh, Vince.  That’s wonderful.”

He sucked her tit desperately while his fingers carved
a path inside her. Her ass ring stretched for Vincent’s hand.  It wasn’t until
his knuckles brushed her gaping hole that she realized how deep he’d gone.  It
wasn’t her doing.  She knew that much.  Only the beast could open her body wide
enough to fit one hand in her cunt and another in her ass, simultaneously.  No
human body could achieve a feat like this on its own.

“Oh god.”  Vincent’s voice filled with fear.  “I can
feel one hand with the other.  I can feel them through… I don’t know!  They’re
almost touching.  Did I break you?”

“Not yet,” she told him, hoping that was true.  She
felt full and achy, spread unconscionably wide, but not split, not ruined. 
“You’re doing fine, Vince.”

“I don’t want to be doing this at all!”  He twisted his
fist this way and that, making her asshole so huge she felt transported. 

She wasn’t on Earth anymore.  This wouldn’t be
possible, on Earth.  One hand in her pussy, one hand in her ass?  No human
could achieve something so gruesome without the help of an otherworldly
creature.

Did that mean the beast was inside her?  It obviously
controlled her actions, and Vincent’s.  Was the creature in her ass, stretching
its elastic ring wide enough for her boyfriend’s son to shove his entire hand
in there?

“Oh, Vince…”

“It’s not me,” he said, begging her to believe him. 
“These aren’t my hands.”

They moved in her like sea life.  Whole hands undulated
in her pussy and her ass.  Fingers touched fingers through the barely-there
membrane that divided those two spaces.  It was more than a body could bear. 
It elevated her spirit to a place she’d never been, and it brought her an
orgasm that was peaceful, meditative, and silent.

“Vince…”  She ran her hand through his hair as he
suckled.  “I think I saw God.”

Bowing away from her breast, Vincent gazed up at her. 
For a time, his eyes were his own.  And then, for one brief, horrifying moment,
they flashed red and Artemis saw the beast in its true form: a terrifying
monster with skin like a snake and a face like a swamp.  The smell that filled
the room made Artemis so instantly nauseous that she started to heave.  She
could only thank the heavens she hadn’t eaten breakfast.

As quickly as it appeared, the creature tore itself
from Artemis.  In one jarring slap, it left her flat on the table.  Her pussy
and her ass blazed like they’d been filled with hot pokers of the largest
variety.  When she realized she had control over her body again, she rolled
toward the edge of the table, fully expecting to find her insides splashed
across the kitchen floor.

But her insides remained inside her.  The only thing on
the floor was Vincent, looking up like he’d been electrocuted.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wincing with the pain
between her legs.

“No.”  He gazed at his hands. “Are you?”

She shook her head.  “I feel like he tore me up down
there.”

“Like who did?” Vincent asked.  “Who did that to us?”

“Oh god.”  Sliding off the table and into one of the
vinyl chairs, she clutched her blazing abdomen.  “I don’t know.  I don’t who he
is, or what.  But he can jump into bodies.”

“Obviously.”  Cowering against the cabinet, Vincent
looked up at Artemis apologetically.  “Sorry. That came out ruder than I
meant.”

“It’s okay. I get what you’re saying.”

Artemis’s eyes filled with tears as she hugged her
naked body.  Vincent pulled himself up and stood on trembling legs.  “You look
like death,” he told her.  “Are you okay?”

When she shook her head, tears streamed down her
cheeks.  “It hurts so much.  It didn’t when you were in there, just your hands,
but then the thing took over and the moment I saw it… I don’t know what
happened.  The pain is unbearable.”

“Come on.”  He offered his struggling, naked body as a
support, and she let him help her out of the chair.  “Let’s get you to bed.”

A surge of raw guilt tunnelled up from between her
legs. She’d taken advantage of the boy.

“I lied before,” he said as he helped her up the
stairs.  “That actually was my first time.  I lost my virginity to my father’s
girlfriend.  How fucked-up is that?”

“No, no, no.”  She leaned in to kiss his cheek.  “It
doesn’t count.  It wasn’t real.”

He cleared his throat, then said, “It sure felt real.”

They didn’t talk much as he got her to bed.  Wearing
her robe to cover his nakedness, he brought her painkillers and a glass of
water.  She asked him for a warm washcloth, and he held it against the aching
spot between her legs, caring for her like a nurse.

But a nurse wouldn’t have carried that boy’s obvious
guilt.  The monster had reached inside him, too.  It had shredded Vincent’s
young heart.

“We have to tell my dad about this.” 

“No, Vince.”

He stared at the dark green cloth against Artemis’s
aching mound.  “Maybe he can stop it. Maybe he knows how.”

Setting her hand on Vincent’s, she said, “It’s stronger
than him.  It’s stronger than everyone.  And imagine how powerless your dad
would feel if he knew all this was going on right under his nose.”

“That’s true,” Vincent agreed.  “He’d feel like it was
his fault.”

Artemis nodded as the looming blackness consumed her
mind.  “He doesn’t need to know…”

Chapter Five

“You were up early,” Budd called from the kitchen.

“Yeah.”  Artemis forced a chuckle.  “Thought I’d give
jogging a go.  It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

She sped upstairs, and nearly screamed when she bumped
into Vincent.  “Jogging in your pyjamas, huh?”

“Jesus, give me a heart attack, why don’t ya?” 
Grabbing his arm, she yanked him into the master bedroom, closing the door
behind them.  “I saw the monster last night.  He was in the bedroom.  I think I
was asleep, or nearly asleep, but I could smell him, that awful swamp smell,
and when I opened my eyes he was sitting on top of me, holding me down on the
bed.”

Vincent’s face fell.  “What’d you do?”

“Nothing, at first. I couldn’t move. He locked me on
the mattress.”  Artemis tore out of her pyjamas and threw on a T-shirt and
track pants.  After everything they’d been through together, changing in front
of Vincent was the least of her concerns.  “In my mind, I kept going,
the
power of Christ compels you
.  I couldn’t think what else to do.  I couldn’t
speak, but I commanded him to get off me.”

“And that worked?”  Vincent picked up her pyjamas and
handed them to her.

She hugged them to her chest.  They smelled like
sleep.  “He was still around, I think, but as soon as I could move I got the
hell out of here.  Spent the night in my car.”

“Jesus!”

“I know.”  Artemis tossed her pyjamas in the hamper. 
“It’s been over a week and nothing.  What brought him back?”

Vincent didn’t have any answers—only
suggestions.  “We have to tell my dad.  This thing’s obviously out to get you.”

Artemis relented.  “Maybe you’re right.  I don’t know. 
I honestly think it would be better if I just left.”

“Left?”  Vincent’s brow knitted and he wore an instant
scowl.  “That would kill my dad.  He loves you.”

“I love him, too.”  Artemis collapsed on the bed. 
“But, Vince, if I stay this thing will kill me… kill me
for real
.”

Vincent cleared his throat.  He obviously knew she
wasn’t overreacting.  After all, he’d experienced the creature’s power
first-hand.

“Vince?”  Budd’s voice rang out from downstairs.  “Time
for work, kiddo.  Let’s get a move on.”

Opening the bedroom door, he slipped into the hall. 
Artemis followed him downstairs in her faux jogging outfit.  When she spotted
Budd in his sexy black jeans, she ran to him and threw her arms around his
hulking chest.  Out of nowhere, she started crying into his T-shirt,
blubbering, “Oh Budd, I love you like crazy.  You mean the world to me.”

“Hey, hey!”  Setting his thumb just below her chin, he
nudged it upward to get a look at her.  “What got into you, Artie?  Nervous
about seeing your first client in your new studio?”

Shit!  She’d forgotten about that.  “Yeah, must be.  I
haven’t painted from life in ages.”

“You’ll do great, babe.”  He kissed her head and gave
her a tight hug.  “Call me if the guy gives you any trouble, okay?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” Artemis said.  “He sounded nice on
the phone.”

“Nice guys are the worst,” Vincent said, giving her a
playful punch in the shoulder as his dad released their hug.  “See ‘ya.”

The moment those boys sped off, a cool breath kissed
the back of Artemis’s neck.  She raised her shoulders, trying to make that cold
sensation go away, but it grazed across her skin like a frosty kiss.  All the
hairs on her arms stood on end, and no matter how much she rubbed them, they
wouldn’t go back down.

Artemis brewed a quick cup of tea and took it outside. 
She sat under the big tree in the front yard and sipped anxiously.  Her client
couldn’t arrive soon enough.

When he drove up, right on time, she was struck by his
raw, rugged handsomeness: tall, fit, dark-skinned, sexy as hell.  “I’m Dafoe,”
he said, offering his hand and a kind smile.  “We spoke on the phone?”

“Yes, yes.”  Artemis left her mug on the ground and
dusted off her clothes.  “It’s great to meet you. Thanks for coming out.”

“I love this part of town,” he said.  “The houses are
amazing.  My partner and I tossed around the idea of moving here, but I don’t
know if a historical neighbourhood with a lot of established families would
take kindly to a gay couple.”

“Hard to say,” she replied, honestly.  “I only just
moved in and I haven’t met the neighbours yet.  We sort of keep to ourselves.”

Dafoe cocked his head and gazed at her, like he was
seeing more than she wanted to reveal.  “Are you okay?”

Artemis put on a fake smile.  “Yeah, sure.  Now where’s
my portrait subject?”

Her well-mannered client opened the trunk of his
vehicle and brought out a stunning wolfish husky.  The dog ran to her and
licked her hands, giving itself over to being caressed.  Its fur was soft as
heaven, mostly white with patches of grey.

“Akiliq seems to like you.”

“Of course he does.”  Artemis petted his lovely ears. 
“All dogs like me.  I must smell like sausage, or something.”

Dafoe laughed as she escorted her guests into the
house.  The animal’s protective energy pushed all thoughts of the demon out her
mind.  It wouldn’t attack her with this beautiful husky around.

When she escorted the man and his dog into her studio,
Dafoe took a seat by the window. He rambled about how he and his partner were
always trying to one-up each other when it came to birthday gifts. 

“Don’t worry,” Artemis said.  “My painting will blow
him away.  Clients are always happy with my work.”

“I can see why,” Dafoe said, as she lifted a fresh
canvas onto her easel.

When he didn’t explain himself, she asked, “What do you
mean?”

“There’s something sensitive about you.  Like you can
see the true spirit of things.”

Artemis laughed.  “Who, me?  Nah, I’m pretty clueless.”

He sat by the window, watching her prep her pallet with
the sienna and umber she always used for underpainting.  Akiliq rested at his
side, tilting his canine head like he wondered what she was up to. Artemis went
quickly to work, capturing the gentility in his body while her mind dissected
Dafoe’s comment.  He felt she was sensitive to the true spirit of things?  What
things?

Rays of sunlight cascaded through the big window,
illuminating Akiliq’s clean fur.  When she’d finished her rough sketch, she
poured out acrylics onto the plastic she used as a makeshift pallet.  Just when
she was about to start the foreground, the light fixture overhead buzzed.  When
she looked up at it, the bulbs popped, both at once, exploding inside their
glass enclosure. 

“Oh my god!”  She jumped, throwing down her brush, then
racing to the switch by the door.  “Jesus Christ, what was that?”

Artemis fully expected her kind client to sympathize,
or make a joke, or ask if she was okay, but he rose silently to his feet. 
Akiliq followed suit, raising his front paws off the floor and standing at his
master’s side.

Just as Artemis was about to compliment Dafoe on his
dog’s impressive trick, the bedroom door slammed shut.  Her bones rattled, and
she screamed. 

“Don’t be afraid,” said a voice from across the room. 
As she turned to the window, the curtains flew shut all on their own. 

Right before her eyes, Dafoe’s beautiful wolf-dog grew
large and erect.  It howled as its paws turned to fingers and its legs and arms
formed masculine muscles.  Like The Hulk, its body grew monstrous, huge.  Its
muzzle foreshortened until he resembled some hideous cross between a human and
a husky.  And hanging between its well-formed legs was the scariest cock she’d
ever seen.

Why scary?  Because she knew it was destined for the
wet spot between her legs.

“Oh god.”  Artemis turned to the door, clasping both
hands around the brass knob.  It wouldn’t turn.  She was trapped.  “This can’t
be happening…”

“Why not?” Dafoe asked.  His kind voice had been
capsized by the unknown demon.  “You’re a sensitive artist.  Can’t you control
the situation?”

Using Budd and Vincent’s bodies was bad enough, but her
client and his dog?  This was unacceptable.  “Get out of here!” she screamed. 
“This is my life, this is my house, and you are not welcome.”

“Your house?”  When Dafoe cocked his head, it dipped to
such an awkward angle it looked like it might fall off his neck.  “I thought
you just moved in, haven’t even met the neighbours.”

“Shut up.”  Rage roared through her veins, but her
voice remained stable, calm and controlled.  “I’ve had enough.  I don’t know
who you are or what you want, but get the fuck out of here.  And I mean now!”

This time, it was Akiliq who spoke. “You don’t know
what we want?  I somehow doubt that.”

His voice crossed from a bark to the demonic rumble she
knew only too well.

“You heard me, whoever you are.  What’s this all
about?  Sex?  Power?  You take control of my body and make me do things I don’t
want to.  You make me do people I don’t want to.  What’s the point?”

The creature obviously didn’t appreciate being
challenged.  Before Artemis could try the door again, the Husky bounded toward
her, knocking her to the floor.  Her ass hit the ground before her mind had a
chance to catch up.  When she felt that electric charge up her spine, past and
present pains overwhelmed her. She collapsed, smacking her head hard enough
that her brain throbbed inside her skull.  She cried out desperately, hoping
God or a neighbour might hear her whimpers.

“Flip this bitch,” the dogman called to Dafoe.  “Get
her on her hands and knees.  I’m taking her from behind.”

When Dafoe tore off her top, Artemis opened her eyes. 
All she saw were swirling galaxies on a blanket of blackness. She couldn’t see
her possessed client.  She couldn’t see his drooling man-dog.  But she didn’t
need to see them to know who was in charge.

They stripped her naked and rolled her limp body onto
its front.  Was she dead?  She couldn’t tell.  She’d never felt this way
before.  Insurmountable pain forced her spirit from her beleaguered body.  Only
when her perspective met the ceiling did she get a good look at what they were
doing to her.

“Feel this pussy,” the naked dog said to the naked man.

They stuck their fingers in her cunt, both at once. 
Even if Artemis was dead, she must have retained some connection to her body,
because she felt them poking around in her.  They weren’t shy about it.  In
fact, they were rough as hell.

“Wet,” Dafoe said, licking her pussy juice from his
fingers.

“Wet and ready,” Akiliq agreed, guiding his huge
dogcock toward her waiting snatch.

Artemis turned her gaze on naked Dafoe, and a string of
arousal flitted through her semi-consciousness. Her client’s black body was
muscular, but lean.  If Budd was built like a brick house, Dafoe was built like
a steel bridge.  He had a cyclist’s body.  And he was hung like a goddamn bull.

Of course, at that moment, some external force was
obviously controlling Dafoe, as well as Akiliq.  How the demon had turned a
Husky into some kind of shapeshifting werewolf creature, she couldn’t venture
to guess.  Everything seemed too strange to be real.  If it hadn’t been for the
bruises she invariably found on her body afterward, she’d never believe these
encounters really happened.

And then there was the fact that Vincent remembered
what happened to him.  Would Dafoe recall this encounter, when he came to his
sense?  God, she hoped not.

“What are you doing?” Artemis whispered.  “Oh God.”

Her spirit body covered its mouth with both hands. She
watched from the ceiling as Akiliq parted her ass cheeks, giving them both a
better look while he pressed his thick cock into her sopping slit.  Despite
feeling disconnected from her body, Artemis sensed his dog-dick entering her
from behind.  It was big.  It made her think of Vincent’s fist, when he’d
shoved that in her cunt.  Except Akiliq wasn’t taking his time, wasn’t taking
care.  He jammed his thick dick into her swollen pussy so forcefully her body
and spirit screamed in unison.  She wondered if this action was the monster’s
hunger or a natural instinct.

“Shut her up,” Akiliq said to Dafoe.

“How, Master?”

“How do you think?” the dogman barked.  “Shove your
cock in her mouth.  Give her something to suck on while I fuck this tight
pussy.”

Apparently possession had reversed their roles as dog
and owner.  The Husky called all the shots, and Dafoe followed instructions
without hesitation.

Grabbing Artemis by the hair, Dafoe yanked her head up
from its hanging position.  When her mouth was too low for his cock, he didn’t
come to her.  Oh no.  He yanked her up higher, until her hands were off the
ground.  She felt the strain in her already aching head as he held her aloft by
the hair. When she opened her mouth to scream, he shoved his erection between
her lips.

Semi-conscious, Artemis grabbed the base of Dafoe’s
dick with both hands.  She swallowed his cock as far as it would go, until she
gagged and sputtered around its massive girth.  Yes, it hurt, but at least this
way she could lean her upper body’s weight against his crotch.  Better than
being strung up by her hair.