Transformed! Nine Magically Erotic Stories (25 page)

“We’re all going home,” said Lauren. “We can’t do anything with Heather like this.”

But then, it started to rain.

* * * * *

B
ryce spiraled for a sense of control in the craziness that this night had become. He, Lauren, Caleb, and Maryse were in Heather’s cabin, in the small sitting room, watching in strange horrified fascination as Heather continued to finger her pussy in a puddle of her own juices. Outside, the storm raged, torrents of rain pouring unceasingly, the sound interrupted only by cracking booms of thunder.

Here is what happened:

Nobody's phone worked. Lightning had started to strike all around the camp, and, they reasoned—one of the strikes had knocked out a cell tower. It would be morning at the least before they could get a signal again. Heather, in some odd cost-cutting measure, only actually paid the phone bill when there were minors present on the camp grounds (to appease parents and their sense of caution, Lauren said), and so none of the landlines were working.

Lauren refused to part from Heather, and she wanted to keep an eye on Caleb while the drugs left his system—Lauren was the only one of the counselors with any nursing training. They all would have been certified for basic first aid at the end of the week through Lauren and Heather’s classes...but oh well.

Bryce was worried about anyone staying alone with Caleb at the moment—all those tattoos, and he was clearly on some kind of heavy dosage of drugs. And Heather seemed to have some kind of psychotic break. So, he volunteered to help even the odds with Lauren and keep on eye on the two with her. And Maryse, characteristically, refused to part from Bryce’s side.

They were a team, now, like it or not. But Bryce knew teams. He was comfortable in teams.

So, the three of them opted to go to Heather’s cabin on the far side of the camp grounds. Heather lived there almost year round, so it was nicer than the rest of their cabins—it had its own full-sized kitchen, a bathroom with marble flooring, a separate bedroom and living room, the works.

Bryce was suspicious of Maryse’s involvement. He knew enough about Maryse to know she was shallow, petty, and manipulative as hell. In a lot of ways, that was sort of what turned him on about her—her attitude toward others, so snobbish and superior, was hard not to get excited by when she acted so sweet and submissive toward him. He knew even that was an act...but he let himself believe in it from time to time.

Still, he had no illusions about them staying together past the summer. He had made up his mind to enjoy the gorgeous blonde's presence as much as possible before their time was up. It was hard not to fall even more in love with her, spending so much time looking at her gorgeous face...but he tried.

Caleb was on the couch, a warm towel over his face. Maryse and Bryce sat together on a pale blue loveseat, holding hands, trying not to watch Heather as she continued to finger her soaking wet pussy. Lauren was examining her, trying to understand, trying to help.

“Hey,” said Lauren, lifting up Heather's shirt. “Look at this.”

Bryce approached, not quite knowing how Lauren could act so clinical when Heather was staring up at them with fevered, needy gazes, so desperate for a big cock to get stuffed into her body...

Strange, animalistic scratches were all over Heather’s back—and teeth marks, too. A bite. And there were...

“Are those...runes?” Bryce asked. “Those look like runes, like we saw in art class. Like hieroglyphics, that sort of thing.”

“Right? That's fucking weird,” said Lauren. “God, Heather...what happened to you?”

“He was
so good
,” Heather moaned, her eyes almost rolled back in their sockets. “He was
so fucking good
...”

The lovely older woman let out a little series of yelps and thrills as another orgasm rippled through her body, her legs trembling and snaking up against Bryce.

This was the time when she was most calm, they had found—when she had the most lucidity. Lauren leaned down and, using a towel to wipe it clean of juices first, took Heather’s hand.

“Heather,” she said, “It’s me, Lauren. Please...tell me what happened. Please.”

“Please him...mmm...him, him, yes.” Heather giggled, stretching her legs around Lauren’s hips, pulling her in lustily. “He found me...walking around outside. So...soo
big
. Seven feet tall. His cock like a...like a cannon. And so hairy...a beast. A real beast. Hairy. Fangs. Big yellow eyes...masculine eyes. Alpha eyes. Ohhhh yes. Such a fucking alpha beast of a Master. And then he took me...and oh yes. He took me...he
took
me...he
took
me...”

Again she slid her fingers back into her pussy. They had tried stopping her earlier, but it just made her seem like she was in pain—or worse, she thought one of them would help her in her desires. Bryce found it all horribly disturbing...and horribly arousing. He had to pace around just to stop his boner from getting worked up—even after Maryse's impromptu blowjob earlier.

“What the fuck was she describing?” asked Maryse. “That sounded like...like some kind of...”

“Some kind of werewolf?” Lauren offered.

“God,” said Maryse, rolling her eyes. “I'm glad
you
said it.”

“Fangs,” said Bryce. “Hair. Beast...I mean, it sort of seems to fit.”

“Let's not go nuts, here,” said Caleb, sitting up a bit. “I mean, werewolves...that's impossible. Maybe she was just drugged and raped.”

“You know all about drugs, don't you?” Bryce asked. “Maybe you did this?”

With no warning, Caleb stood up and rushed at Bryce, fists at-the-ready. Lauren, moving fast, immediately slipped between them.

“Calm down!” she said. “No one here is a monster. No one here would do this to Heather. Let's not tear each other apart just because we can.”

Taking a deep breath, Caleb sat back down.

“You're right,” he said. “I'm sorry. I don't like being accused of shit like that.”

“I'm sorry too.” Bryce shrugged. “But it's just all...suspicious. All of this. Something about it stinks, I just don't know what, yet. Or who.”

They all sat down, and for a few minutes the only sound was Heather's soft schlicking sounds as she gave herself yet another little orgasm. It was too quite, too inactive for Bryce's liking. He had to
do
something.

“We have to find him,” Bryce announced, standing up. “Find this guy, this thing, if that's what he is. It’s the only thing to do. Organize a search party.”

“Oh yesss...” Heather moaned on the floor. “Find him...find him!”

“What do you mean?” Maryse asked. “You’re not going out into that downpour, are you?”

“Do we have a choice? There’s some...some weirdo drug rapist out there fucking with the people in this camp! We can’t just let him
be
out there. We have to
try
something.”

“I think we should just stay here,” said Caleb. “Stay calm. It’s dangerous out there, the weather's way too unpredictable—and whatever attacked her, or whoever, I mean, they clearly like the dark more than we do.”

“I agree with everything Caleb’s said,” Heather purred. “He’s just so right about everything. What a man. Don’t you all agree?”

That was odd, thought Bryce...but so was everything Heather was saying.

“I’ll go up to the men’s cabin,” said Bryce. “Kyle and William should help too.” Lauren eyed him, a bit exasperated. He quickly added, “And then I’ll swing by the women’s and see if any of them want to volunteer as well.”

Bryce picked up a flashlight off the table near the entryway, and then walked over to the fireplace and grabbed a poker. He would need a weapon, after all. Then, he turned to Caleb.

“Are you gonna help me and be a man, or aren’t you good for anything?”

“F-fine.” Caleb shrugged, taking a breath. “Yeah. I should come with you. I don’t want to be left here with...all of this.”

Caleb's eyes were wide with fear—real fear—at Heather's activities.

Bryce understood. His aunt had gone crazy—and he was always terrible about going to see her in the institution. It wasn’t because of the way she acted, or really anything she did. Rather, it was because of how she reminded him of how thin the line was between sanity and insanity—what an eggshell layer their minds walked on at any given moment.

“Be careful, love,” Maryse cooed, sliding her arms around Bryce. “You’re
so
brave for taking care of this.”

Maryse kissed him, long and hot. He knew she was showing off just for Lauren...and yet Bryce still got into it, his hands slipping over that perfect tight ass, squeezing hard. He couldn't do much in front of her except melt.

Sorry, Lauren
, he thought as soon as the kiss ended. He avoided the brunette's gaze as he slapped Caleb on the back and headed to the front.

Opening the door, the storm immediately burst in, wind and rain flowing through the cabin. It was dark and wet outside, the lightning doing more to reflect blasts of blinding confusion around than it did to illuminate anything.

Bryce took a breath, and they entered the wetness.

* * * * *

S
omehow during the night, Lauren fell asleep. She had every intention of staying awake the whole night through until morning light pushed through the darkness of this strange and horrifying evening, watching over Heather. She had even made a full pot of coffee to keep herself roused—but somehow she conked out over the many terror-filled hours.

This is she woke with a start on the couch. Maryse was in her arms, a blanket covering them both. Somehow they had fallen asleep together, in this clearly intimate fashion.

Lauren tried not to think about how good Maryse felt, how warm her skin was, how perfect her face, how easy it would be to land the most gentle of little kisses...

Oh god, no. No way.

Lauren sprang up, not caring if she woke Maryse or not.

Somehow, though, Maryse shifted on the couch, groaning, but stayed asleep. Fine, then. That was good.

It was about four in the morning, judging from the clock over the fireplace. Early. It wasn’t raining anymore outside, but Lauren could still see almost nothing from peeking out the window. There were supposed to be lights dotting the trails around the camp, but maybe the storm knocked out one of the generators...

Or maybe the creep that attacked Heather knew to disable them.

She tried to ignore that thought.

Drawn by the smell of eggs cooking, Lauren found Heather in the kitchen, preparing food, and completely naked.

“Oh!” chirped Heather. “Hello, dear. I was just making some food. I find a vicious fucking like what Master gifted me with really gets the appetite going, you know?” She giggled, like a flirting schoolgirl. “Even with all the hot protein he dumped inside of my belly.”

Heather seemed five years younger. She had always been in terrific shape for a middle-aged woman, with a clear vibrancy and youth shining through her motions and words. But now she looked...she looked
genuinely
younger. Her skin smoother, her hair longer, her breasts fuller and perkier, her face like that of someone in their early thirties or even late twenties.

Had whatever that creature done to her...changed her, somehow?

“M-Master?” Lauren asked. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about my glorious and wonderful Master, dear. He’s so perfect to have taken my will and mind like he did. I’m
so
happy to be in his service now. I
think
you called him a werewolf? That wouldn't be too far off a description.” She pointed at the eggs with her spatula. “I’m sure he’ll be hungry when he comes around again. I want to be ready to serve him food while I attend his cock. You should do the same.”

A big yawn exhaled from behind Lauren, who jumped. Completely on edge.

“Wow,” said Maryse, stumbling into the kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting to fall asleep like that. Looks like the rain cleared up, huh? Still dark out, though...where are the boys?”

“They’re not back yet,” said Lauren.

She reached out, trying to grab Maryse's hand. Anything steady. Anything sane.

“I wouldn’t worry about any of them,” said Heather. “Master will take care of them. I’m certain of it.”

She and Maryse looked at each other, and stepped backward for a moment out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

“I guess...she’s calmed down some? So that’s good,” said Maryse.

“Maybe,” whispered Lauren. “But she’s still...under the influence of whatever this thing is that’s happening.”

“What do we do?”

Lauren had been thinking about that, actually. Plans upon plans, that was her way.

“Heather,” said Lauren, stepping back into the kitchen and turning off the stove, getting the older woman’s attention. “I know our phones aren’t working, but there’s still a radio in the rec center. You remember? The big radio that can reach all those trucks and stuff? It’ll work no matter what. I’d like for us to get over there and bust it out, call the police, get their help.”

“Whatever for, dear?” Heather looked genuinely confused.

Maryse scoffed. “You were...you were
raped
last night!”

“Oh, dear, no.” She shook her head. “That’s not how I would describe it at all.”

Sighing wistfully, Heather ran the warm spatula against her naked breasts. Her fingers began to tweak at her nipples.

Maryse continued her protest. “You were taken against your will!”

“Well...maybe at first.” She shrugged, sighing dreamily. “But he showed me how wrong it was to resist. Did you know hot women like me belong in service to him? After he gave me his mark...I understood. A will is such a silly, paltry little thing anyway, especially for a female. Why would my will matter one way or the other in comparison to his endless might? I was born to be on my knees in front of him, darling.” Heather’s eyes lit up, as if suddenly noticing Maryse in front of her. “My, dear. You’re rather pretty, aren’t you? Of course you are. You’re probably next.”

Maryse’s beautiful blue eyes flashed with anger. “Shut up, you crazy bitch! What the hell are you talking about?”