Archive of Our Own

Not in a million years could you have ever imagined, or even fathomed, just how much your life has changed in the past few weeks. It all feels like a sweet, peculiar dream, and by this point you’re waiting to see when you’ll wake up from it. After all, nothing good ever lasts forever.

You’re painfully aware of that, and it’ll take a long time until you’re no longer scared.

Even before your life went down the drain, when you were content and loved and still had what you needed to survive, you knew that happiness was one beautiful but fickle butterfly. It’ll come in, rest for a while, flutter about and plummet to the ground at some point. Everyday, though you were satisfied after a few meals and a treat, you wondered when it would all end. This life, this happiness of yours, was never sustainable. You saw the writing on the wall, you knew what was coming.

You were aware, but did nothing. Like the coward you were, the coward you still are, despite how you’ve changed.

Your family fell into ruin overnight, at the loss of the only benefactor you had. Grief and tragedy struck, but more than anything, it was bleak and dull. It was a long time coming, and though no one wanted to admit it, you all knew.

Your brother left to find a different life for himself, disappearing into the night with his instruments and his art and the affection you thought he had for you. He left to sing and howl somewhere else. You loved him too much to beg him to take you with him. This was not his ship to stir, and the last thing he needed was dead weight.

Your mother still prayed to the Virgin Mary, in spite of all her previous mysticisms, of all her eccentric thinking. She prayed, and slept, and prayed again. Surely this time it’ll succeed, we’ll win the lotto, we’ll be rich. You loved her too much to leave. She left this world with nothing to her name, nothing on her lips but a mournful apology to you. I’m sorry, my baby. You deserved better.

Your father chased his dreams into the foggy unknown, as he promised to come back for you with everything you could ever want. You loved him too much to tell him to stay and watch him shamble through life as a husk, so you let him go. A man who has nothing left to lose won’t come back until he finds what he is seeking. No matter how tender his heart may be, a man is a man.

He didn’t come back. You don’t know where he is, but he didn’t come back.

You were all alone just like that, with nothing to call yours. Not a house, not a car, not a single penny; not a home, not warmth, not a single person. It was only you and the clothes on your back.

How expected it was, for you to end up wandering the streets. How scary it was, to be a single, powerless girl in this world full of peril. How lonely it was, to find hiding places to sleep in, curling in on yourself. You deserved it, for living on borrowed time. This is your karmic debt, for your sloth, for how spoiled you were. Your lack of boldness, of self respect. Happiness is a butterfly, it’s dead now, and there is nothing you can do about it.

But it all hurt so much, still. You starved when you used to eat your meals and small, cheap treats. You showered quickly, so as to not make the water bill too expensive, and now you couldn’t shower at all. There was nothing you could do, other than scribble your regret into the notebook you refused to sell.

You wished for disease to take you first. You didn’t want to be murdered, but being a vagrant woman pretty much stacked all the odds against you. You would’ve jumped in front of a car, you were suicidal enough, but your mom wouldn’t want you to do that to yourself. Your dad always warned you against razors (despite how you’ve brutalized yourself in silence), and your brother must’ve cared too, deep inside. At least you hoped so.

You could also die from the weather. It was going to start snowing soon, so if you just… sat outside during a snowstorm, you’d be free. You’d fall asleep, cold, so cold, but cold for the last time. It would’ve been a merciful cold, like the kind that makes you want to cozy up into your blankets, instead of the one that’s frozen your heart for the rest of time, in this cruel existence. Life was never fair, and you lived in a fake fantasy where things were alright.

It was a fantasy you loved, nevertheless.

Little did you know it could all get worse and all the more terrifying. The sheer uncertainty that came with being completely alone got to you, yes, but you were never afraid of yourself. You did awful things to yourself when you were overwhelmed and just needed to blow off some steam, but you weren’t scared.

Not until that night.

The air was crisp but cold, to the point where you could see your breath turning into vapor, and the tips of your fingers were chilly. You had walked quite a lot today, barely mustering up the courage to beg for anything to anyone. You had always been scared of people, and even though you were stuck in this deep, desolate hole of a situation (maybe especially because of it), your knees still buckled under you at the thought of approaching someone who was minding their own business. You taught yourself to not ask for too much, either. The combination wasn’t good.

You didn’t have a single coin, and you only ate that day because you sat in front of a bakery for hours, unmoving, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The owner handed you a roll of bread, but sighed and told you to find somewhere else next time.

You had no idea where in the city you ended up, but without having a place to come back to, it didn’t matter. You were always lost, like a runaway animal clueless to the reality of its domestication. You were the house pet that chewed trash bags open and ate at the slimy, disgusting garbage. You were going to die at some point just like it, either by the hands of a cruel man or by the unknown bacteria that made its home inside your gut. At least with the last option you felt a bit better about yourself. You could be useful to something as insignificant as a unicellular organism, your life was appreciated. You mattered to it.

With your feet now sore, your body decided it was time to stop. You laid down on the grass of an abandoned, dilapidated house in what looked like the very outskirts of the city. Ah, good, you could try and test your luck on the road. If you got arrested, at least you’d probably get to shower. A small price to pay to have a fragment of your integrity back.

Looking up at the sky, you saw a comforting sight: the full moon, bright and beautiful, shining down on you. You couldn’t help but cry a little, at her. The moon was your oldest friend, and one that stayed in the sky, always watching out for you. Moonless nights were always the hardest for you, always the darkest and most miserable. It was when everything you still loved seemed to fade away, and you pondered. Pondered about how much it would’ve hurt to hang yourself, how you would’ve been left to rot if you somehow failed to slit your veins deep enough. There were no nice places for you to drown in. Then, there was jumping.

You couldn’t jump. Not only could you traumatize any passersby who happened to watch you hit the ground, but it was just too much. Your brain, it hated the idea of jumping from a high place. The vertigo was unbearable.

But that was all it was. Just pondering.

The moon would eventually come back, and offer its pale hand to you. There was still beauty left to see, and even though you were nothing more than a wayward creature, it was available to you.

The full moon used to be a symbol of resilience, for you.

You got to learn true betrayal from her.

First, you noticed the sound of leaves crunching. It wasn’t that close to where you were, but just loud enough for you to pick up on. You assumed it to be some kind of wild animal and continued to bask in the glow of the moon.

Then, there was more crunching, like steps approaching in your direction. It was accompanied by a low huff, and it made you wonder if it actually was some kind of animal. The possibilities of it being a bear this close to the city were slim but not zero, so you got up on your tired, wobbly legs. You didn’t want to deal with something that could hurt you, you had enough problems already without an injury.

Before you took your first step, you heard a deep, garbled growling behind you. That wasn’t a sound bears could make, it was more like a man’s voice. It wasn’t quite right by those metrics, either, far too throaty and far too husky. With your blood rapidly freezing up, you turned around slowly, stiffly, fear almost outweighing your confusion.

Through the broken window of the house, you could see trees, bushes and shadows all around them. In between those shadows, you spotted two huge, glowing yellow eyes. Not human at all.

You knew they spotted you, too, when the pupils blew wide open in your direction. The growling only got louder, and you watched in abject horror as a large, furry, clawed hand stepped into the dim light of the street lamp. Not a human, not an animal.

You weren’t going to stay to find out what it was.

It was a few beats later, when you got your legs to respond to the alarms your brain was setting off, that you whipped around and ran out of the building. You leapt over the remaining bricks of a rundown wall and sprinted your way down the steep street, as you had to climb up the mountain to get here. Even with the added momentum from the angle, you could still hear heavy, rapid trodding behind your back, quickly catching up to you. You looked behind you in an attempt to assess the danger.

You wish you hadn’t done that. Maybe you wouldn’t have such vivid nightmares if you hadn’t.

You were being chased by a gigantic, demonic looking creature. It was covered in bloodsoaked fur, with a mouthful of sharp fangs and vicious eyes glinting menacingly. You barely registered it had wolf ears, because in a split second, it had pounced on you. It only gave you time to start screaming.

You’ve never felt terror as visceral before or since. You would’ve done anything to be able to say the same about the pain you suffered.

It put its entire body weight on you, which made you fall over and end up scraping your face against the rough pavement. Your glasses were destroyed in the process, driving shards of glass into your skin and your eye. It held your head down with an iron grip as you tried and failed to slip out of its grasp, and you cried louder at the searing pain its claws left when they scratched at your back. It brutalized your body in a number of ways; it dug into your back to the point of exposing your bones, tearing through tissue after tissue; it broke your limbs with its jaws, eating at your flesh and panting as if it were enjoying itself; and the hand holding your head tightened enough to stab its claws into your scalp, leaving blood dripping down your face. You were conscious for long enough to have it stop and instead begin to howl on top of you. It probably figured you weren’t going to be alive for much longer, as at one point you stopped screaming.

In your slipping consciousness, you asked for forgiveness, for all of the selfish things you’d ever done. Though cruel, brutal and full of agony, this was your final retribution, the last punishment to make you truly see your greed. The life you had could’ve been someone else’s, and they could’ve done much more with it than you ever did. This was the true price to pay for such a waste.

You couldn’t feel anything other than a mass of pain consuming you, but this was what you deserved, in the end. You always knew you were a bad person, and this was the closest you’d ever been to hell.

As your vision started to fade, you hoped to be reincarnated as a person again someday. Despite your greedy approach, and how utterly undeserving you were of it all, you loved your life. You loved being alive, however brief it was, however sorrowful. Through your still working eye, you could see the moon’s kindly glow, encouraging you to just give up.

That’s what you did, even if the beast’s howl now sounded more like a death squall. You bid goodbye to your heart and surrendered, sinking into the void.

… But you didn’t die.

You woke up in the dark, which made you wonder if there was an afterlife after all. You were laying somewhere cold and hard, and after getting a feel of your surroundings, you determined this wasn’t anything like purgatory; even if it was made of what felt like slightly moist rock, they wouldn’t have a need for blankets, would they?

The discovery of the blanket made you run a hand down your body, which also let you know that you were completely naked. You slapped your palm over the side of your face, expecting to either feel your frames or broken glass poking back at you. You found nothing instead.

Moving your hand a bit away from your face, you felt quite alarmed, as you poked just above the end of your jaw. Your left ear was missing, same with the other one. You could still hear, though, as evidenced by the sound of dripping water and the rustling of the blanket as you bolted upright. But… with what ears were you picking up on those sounds?

Then, just as you started palming at yourself with the intent of finding your ears, you felt something soft and hairy brush at your calf.

The reaction was instantaneous. You shrieked in horror and escaped in the opposite direction. You met a wall, but for whatever reason compelling you, you decided to push against it.

Only when it fell off did you realize it was actually a slab of stone. Of course, you saw that after tripping on it and hitting your head.

After that bit of pain and shock, and some hissing and prodding at the sore spot from you, you looked up to find a few things. One, it was daytime. Two, you were in the forest, in a place unknown to you. Three, and most bafflingly of all things, your vision was crystal clear. It wasn’t just about your injured, ravaged eyeball working as it had done before; you’d had the eyesight of a mole rat for the longest time, and you knew for a fact you shouldn’t have been able to spot anything other than shapes and colors from afar without your glasses.

Your breathing quickened as panic set in, your 20/20 vision an impossible feat that made you hurriedly check the rest of your body. You could run and move your arms instinctively, that meant your limbs had healed. Your back was covered in skin once again, which meant it also healed. There wasn’t a single scab on your forehead, and… you paused.

You noticed something soft and furry on top of your head. You could feel the touch, and you could closely hear the rubbing of your fingers, as if you were… touching your own ears…

Your eyes flew wide open, your hands immediately going to your tailbone in disbelief. Indeed, there was an extension. A soft, furry extension. You could perfectly look down and spot yourself holding a tail. Your tail.

There were animal ears on top of your head. Your ears.

You’d be laughing at the campiness of it all if it weren’t real, if it weren’t happening to you.

You placed a hand on the expanse between your right shoulder and your neck, thumbing at a tender spot and wincing in pain right after. It seems you’d found the one thing that didn’t heal. The beast bit you there among countless other places, but it didn’t rip out a chunk of flesh.

It all pointed to you now being afflicted with lycanthropy, which you honestly, really didn’t want to believe. You were a skeptic, despite (and maybe because of) your mother telling you all about witches and monsters since you were a little girl. You never believed in things getting better for you in life, let alone witches cackling maniacally in your grandma’s barn or demonic beasts going on hunts every full moon.

And yet, here you were.

As you started to sob dryly, you reached your fingers into your mouth. As expected, sharp canines on both the top and bottom rows of teeth. You pricked your index finger on one and you bled. It tasted good.

You had always loved the flavor of your own blood, you just didn’t expect to turn into a monster that lived for it, for carnage.

It really set in for you, at that very moment. You will turn into a savage, terrifying beast eventually. Then, it would happen once every single month. You’ll kill many people and ruin countless others, turn them into what you’ve become, too. You’ll never be able to stop it.

You were an aimless, hopeless waste of space, but your one desire was to never hurt others. You did everything to please others, and you let people walk all over you so they wouldn’t be angry. The single thing you’d strived towards was to not be a nuisance. You may have been a burden, but you made yourself small and inoffensive. Palatable, to some extent.

Now, you were the worst thing you could’ve ever imagined: a threat. One that could harm people irreparably, a monstrous aggressor. You weren’t human anymore.

That realization made you weep for hours, retreating back into the cave you woke up in. You never hated yourself as much as you did at that point, and truly, you wished the werewolf had killed you.

Luckily, whoever put you in that cave knew what they were dealing with. At the very end of the cave were restraints firmly attached to the stone walls, and the cuffs were lined with silver. You had a choice.

For you, it was the only choice you were ever willing to consider.

All you did was wait for the next full moon, and during that time, you spent your days wallowing in misery. There wasn’t much of anything else to do, aside from wandering the forest in search of sustenance.

You hated looking for food. It was like you now shared a mind with a street mutt, and it took over your body when it sensed a squirrel scuttling about. Next thing you knew, you had warm blood spilling out the sides of your mouth. You kept yourself at a constant state of starvation out of sheer spite and self loathing, and everytime the mutt made you kill a creature, you buried it. You would’ve felt awful otherwise.

If there was anything worthwhile that came out of those days, it was probably how you were able to get acquainted with your own, strange flesh. You got to sit and process every new sound you could pick up on, got to admire the world around you with a sharpness you had forgotten. You got to stew in your melancholy the day a cookout happened at the opposite side of the forest, yearning for the beautiful days you’d seen as you heard boisterous laughter and smelled the good food from afar. When you jumped, you jumped higher than ever before, and you could run so fast you almost launched yourself off of a cliff at one point because of it. Having such athletic prowess was completely foreign to you, and this among the heightened senses and the animal characteristics, cemented an idea in your brain. Your old body is gone forever, and now, you’re living in a vessel unknown to you. This body may look like how yours did before —that is, your body from the neck down aside from the wolf tail— but it could very well be completely different inside. You’re not human anymore, after all. Even if this is still you, there’s a disconnect, an insatiable need for feeling control over yourself. A thirst for getting to know yourself.

You conducted a test in the days leading up to the full moon. You didn’t have a sharp object, so you had to make do with your teeth.

You tore out a chunk of meat from your arm. It hurt in a way you hadn’t experienced before, and in a dazed bloodrush, the mutt devoured the morsel. It tasted good, which could’ve spelled danger for you depending on how your test panned out. You licked at your bite sized wound, and you waited.

By the time you woke up the next day, your flesh was already filling out and soon on its way to regrowing the skin it would be covered by. This body was good at regenerating, too.

Something in your brain shifted at this discovery. You only got to eat a bit of yourself again once more before it was time to restrain yourself, but if you had to stay in this forest for longer, it would seem you already had a solution for the wolf’s hunger.

Life would never be the same for you, but maybe it wasn’t all bad.

This wasn’t the time to be optimistic, though. Lady luck was on your side, and when you got up early the day prior, you saw the full moon in the sky. This didn’t mean anything for your monstrousness just yet, but it certainly meant for you to prepare. Without a calendar it was a blessing that the sky let you know in advance what to do, and you thanked whatever was out there for the fortunate warning. You used your time to gather a couple of things for the occasion, like a heavy boulder to place in your path as an obstacle in case the shackles failed and a makeshift gag for you. This was mainly because you didn’t want your screaming to carry through and alert someone enough to try and find you. If this had even the smallest bit of a hand in keeping someone else alive, then you’d go through with the idea. Maybe the dog will have fun chewing on it too, who knows?

Before you knew it, sunset was fast approaching the next day. You closed the cave with the rock slab, you slipped past the boulder through the room you left for your human body, and you fastened the restraints tight to your limbs. You could already feel your extremities weaken from the effect of the silver, and for almost half an hour, all you could do was sit there alone with your breath and your thoughts. The chains were long enough to accommodate the shift in position that would take place, and you were shivering from the temperature inside, your tail curling up to you in a futile attempt to warm you up. You’d left your blanket somewhere else so you wouldn’t end up destroying it, and its presence was dearly missed. You wished this would be over already, which was something you’d soon regret.

Being cold could barely qualify as discomfort, considering what you were about to go through.

It all started with a tingling, itching sensation in your bones, something deeply settled in your spine that travelled fast throughout the rest of your body. This was the first among many other completely foreign feelings you’d experience that night. You shifted in place, already uncomfortable and taken aback by the intensity of it all, but not quite in pain yet. This endured for a couple of minutes.

Then, something snapped in your brain. As if part of your gray matter twisted and squirmed, as if something forced its way through your flesh to try and get out. Your head pounded and burned, hot agony coursing through your veins like lava. From that point, everything happened so quickly that you could barely keep up, much less try and note what exactly was happening to you.

You felt every single bit of it, though. The extra hair pushing through your skin, all of your bones breaking and stretching and growing into different shapes, your face pushing out into a snout in front of your eyes and the continuous strain of your muscles, the awful stabbing in your gums as your mouth filled out with more, sharper teeth… every single detail combined into a storm of pure suffering, a flash of pain powerful enough to have you bite through the fabric in your maw just so you could cry out. Your voice wasn’t yours, and that cry wasn’t yours— it wasn’t human.

It reminded you of the howling you heard that night.

It would’ve been maddening to keep being you for the rest of the night, in this restless, aching vessel, so the wolf stepped up. This creature that shared your consciousness knew exactly what to do with sharp claws and a mouthful of daggers, and it was used to trembling with bloodlust. It waited patiently, it knew when to strike at you, and it was completely aware of how bright moonlight will always guide its hunt. It’s knowledge embedded into its genetic coding, part of its nature, just like its urge to kill and grow its pack. An animal cannot be reasoned with.

So, the wolf pounced at your neck and it bit down hard. You found yourself no longer in control, as your human mind was not needed at that moment. You passed out from shock. That night, the monster won over you.

You woke up slowly the next day, your entire being buzzing with a low wavelength of aching static. You couldn’t move all that much, and from what you could see, you were covered in a dark substance. You truly hoped it was your own blood.

That’s what you saw when you opened your eyes, your head hanging limply until just a few seconds ago. You lethargically veered your gaze up, and for a moment, you thought you were looking at a mirage in the darkness.

Were those… a woman’s legs? Clad in an elegant dress, accentuated by sharp heels?

Could it have been another wolf, another creature who’s come to eat you?

You’ve concluded both answers to be yes and no.

The figure kneeled down to your level, and you could see her face lit up by the warmth of an oil lamp. For the first time in a while, your heart jumped whimsically at a lady’s beauty.

Wonderfully tinted lips, long, defined eyelashes, and behind them, a pair of irises staring lovingly at you. She smiled at you, and reached out a gloved hand to stroke your ear. You didn’t startle. Instead, your mouth gaped in awe, like a mutt that found something divine.

Then, she spoke, with a voice just as hypnotizing as her gaze.

“What a good puppy we have here,” was what you heard, through the ringing in your ears. “Let’s go home, shall we?” She gave a light laugh before she stood up, stepping back. You would’ve whined if you hadn’t been so exhausted. “Sam, help me carry her to the car. I would’ve asked Bladie, but, y’know…”

“Understood,” replied a deeper voice, like a man’s. A big, metallic-looking figure approached you, which inspired panic in you. You tried to push away from their grasp, but your head turned in the woman’s direction when she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

You instantly felt your strength leave you. “There’s no need to be scared, puppy. Sam’s just here to bring you home with me,” she explained a bit of the situation to pacify you, both with the information granted and the effect she had on you. She grinned at you and your now useless body, nodding her head to indicate for her companion to proceed.

You were liberated and then picked up by arms of cold armor, and subsequently led out of the cave, squeezing past the boulder you placed. Outside, the sky was starting to light up once more, and you could see the woman walking fast in front of you. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail that gently swayed side to side, and the color was such a nice shade of purple… You had never met such a stunning lady. You had your focus fixated on her until you reached the car and they sat you down on one of the rows of seats in the van. It seemed that she occupied the passenger seat, as she started talking to the driver.

“Did you see our new guest, Bladie? What do you think?” She asked, and you could see her hand as she gestured over to you.

“Bladie” huffed in disinterest. It struck a vulnerable, exposed cord in your heart. “I don’t care,” he muttered roughly, and you picked up on it all too well. It made you feel an unreasonable amount of sorrow, to think you were a mere nuisance to someone. It brought back fears you had before, that were now extremely validated. You made yourself smaller in the plastic covered seat, and you felt as your matted ears pressed against your scalp.

The lady sighed as she spotted your pitiful form in the rearview mirror. “Watch it, Bladie, you know how werewolves get after—”

A voice surrounded by static interjected before she could finish her sentence. “Fifteen minutes until the sun’s fully out, guys. Better hurry it up.”

The engine was turned on immediately after that information was received, and the woman responded with a sultry giggle as she picked up the walkie talkie. “You got it, Wolfie. Or should I call you something else now that we’re getting an actual wolf?”

The static came back on. “Haha, very funny,” the tone was sarcastic and also uninterested, like the person on the other side of the line was doing something completely different. “Get back ASAP, you read the script.”

“How’s your match going?” The lady changed the subject, almost as if she didn’t care about the urgency of the task. Perhaps she liked pushing her limits.

“We’re sweeping right now. I don’t know what these noobs are doing on ranked,” actually, you noticed the intensive, constant keyboard sounds coming through from the other end, which could only mean one thing. Whoever these people were, it was certainly strange they’d let someone play PvP matches while on the job. The thought of videogames sparked an innocent, but incredibly melancholic nostalgia within you. It has been so long since you got to consider something so lighthearted for the last time. You missed having fun. “Alright, disconnecting now. Get here on time and save Sam the sunburn, bye bye.”

The burgundy-haired woman leaned back on her seat after setting the walkie talkie down where it used to be. “Mm, she must be bored and that’s why she wants us to hurry up,” she commented to no one, since none of her companions were going to reply and you were far too afraid and uncertain to do it. She, in turn, shook her head and laughed. “You heard her, Bladie! Hit the gas.”

The man driving didn’t need to be told twice. You had to hold on for dear life as the car sped away from where you were, and at no point did it slow down. From the lack of any significant reaction from anyone else, it seemed this sort of thing was commonplace. All you could see out the window were trees, foliage and the road becoming a blur from how fast you were going, and in a way, you were glad. You could block out your urge to stare out at the road and just focus on not getting sick. Not that there was much inside your stomach, anyway.

At least it was over quickly. At one point you zipped out of the main road and into a path, and soon enough, you almost ripped out a part of your seat trying to keep yourself in place as the driver stopped the car abruptly. You couldn’t tell if the lady was serious when she said “Good job, Bladie!” as she stepped out of the car right after the driver did so as well. Sam picked you up once again and followed suit, and as the three of them began walking into their home, you caught a couple of glimpses of the building itself; it was huge, probably a mansion, it was fairly gothic and there was a tower-like structure attached to it. Who… who were these people? Were they some kind of mafia? They were fairly well dressed from what you could tell, with the man wearing a suit and the lady in such an elegant getup. They dressed like this to go pick up your messed up body in a forest, at that. What were they trying to do? Why did they want you?

You definitely had a ton of questions, and after the lady and Sam stepped further into the exquisitely decorated gothic manor with you in tow, you felt a surge of cold fear and stammered out, “W-Where are you taking me? Can you put me down, p-please?”

“Calm down, sweetie, you’re still covered in blood and our housekeeper cleaned the floor recently,” The woman explained patiently, probably a little patronizingly. She walked in pace with Sam, seeming to know where they were going. “We’re taking you to the bath we prepared for you. I’m sure you’d love to get clean, right?”

Did they know you’d be this dirty…? This was a very strange situation, and honestly, you had no idea what would be in store for you after the bath. You felt a little safer, at least, since you were superhuman now. You could jump through a window and escape at any point. Even if they hadn’t done anything bad to you, you were still wary.

That being said, she was correct. You’d wanted a shower since a few weeks ago, and you weren’t about to waste an opportunity like that. So, you nodded.

She seemed delighted, even if a bit mischievous. “It was my idea, actually,” she stated proudly, staring at you with those peculiar mauve eyes. Were they contact lenses? “Out of everyone here, I’m the one who understands the immense value of soaking in a tub and just relaxing, you know what I mean?”

Her voice made you shiver. You were trying to pretend it was just intimidation still, but…

“Oh, won’t you look at that? We’re here,” she announced as Sam stopped in front of a door, and the lady opened it for you. She took off her gloves already? You hadn’t even noticed.

The person holding you crouched just enough for you to hop off and stand on the tiled floor of the bathroom. “Thank you,” you said instinctively.

Sam only nodded, while the lady hummed in approval. “See? I don’t even have to train her, she’s a good girl already,” she said teasingly, and you really, really had no idea what to feel in case it turned out you’d been kidnapped just now. It was still too early to develop any kind of feelings, you told yourself. “Alright, darling, I’ll be sitting right here outside the door,” she said, going on to add, “Take your bath and get dressed, I picked out some clothes for you,” she then closed the door, finally giving you some privacy even as she kept talking. “If you try to escape you’ll regret it a lot, so I recommend you don’t! Plus, I like you, so don’t waste your chances,” her warning sounded just the same as when she was calling you a good girl, which was certainly something. “Have a nice bath, hun!”

Well, she didn’t need to tell you twice. Being held captive by these people would probably be better than anything you’d done lately, anyway.

You observed your surroundings mostly out of curiosity, but it wasn’t too fruitful, since it seemed like this bathroom was prepared especially for you to use and therefore had next to no decorations. It was just wide enough to accommodate a fairly simple, vintage tub, and left a few paces between the end of the room and the door. Indeed, on top of the toilet lid were your towel and the clothes she told you about. Just picking up on those two things was enough information to satisfy you, and so, you climbed into the bathtub fairly quickly.

Needless to say, you’d never felt this good about anything ever. Not even showering in places where you didn’t have to worry about the water bill. You’d never been covered in as much grime as you were in this precise moment, and after how much suffering you’d been enduring for these past few months, this was like heaven. You submerged yourself completely in the water, and for a second, you considered ending it all there. You were in pure bliss, after all; you would’ve died only after suffering from drowning, yes, but you were happy prior to that. You could’ve washed away your sins just as the dirt and the blood seeped off of your skin, and then, you would’ve hurt nothing and no one anymore.

You would have been free.

… You could try, at least. You stayed there, with your eyes closed, and tried to accept your fate. It was easy at first, thinking about the chance that you’d get to see your mom again. You missed her cooking and the little things she’d do for you.

The longing gave you strength to stay underwater, even as your chest got progressively tighter, and you resisted the urge to come up for air. You thought about all the people you would’ve saved by ceasing to exist, those who would no longer have to fear getting their lives ripped apart by a monster. Your head was hot, hot, impossibly hot. The pressure was getting tighter in your head. It hurt a lot, you really wanted air.

You tried to hold out by reminding yourself of how much you’ve hated being a burden. You were more of a burden now than ever before, you should’ve been shot dead and dumped in a ditch. You wondered why those people didn’t do exactly that.

You can do it.

Your chest was seizing up. It burned so, so badly.

You can do it.

Your head was about to explode. Your eyes were pushing out of your skull, oh god.

You can do it. Don’t stop.

What will the lady think?

Wait, what will the lady think of this?

You pushed out of the water, then, making a splash and a ruckus by gasping out aggressively. You hung out from one side of the tub. You failed, you damn coward.

The door immediately swung open, and through your still blurry vision, you saw the pretty lady kneel down in front of you. “What happened, darling?” She asked, seeming too calm for the scene you probably caused. She held both sides of your face, pushing your hair out of the way. You couldn’t answer her, still pushing oxygen down your burning airways. In turn, she took her time looking around the room for any clues about the situation.

She was a clever woman, it seemed, as she smiled knowingly after some minutes passed and you had somewhat recovered. “Mm, did you try to kill yourself to escape from me, puppy?” She was way too nonchalant, but you liked that, in a way. Your dad was prone to freaking out about your tendencies, and you preferred ambivalence to explosive concern.

“Hahh, ahh, h-hah— N-No,” you wheezed out a response.

She lifted your head gently so she could take a better look at your dazed expression. “Do you hate yourself?” She asked gently.

“Hhh, yes…”

“Do you want to die?”

“I-I…”

“Do you want to protect others from yourself?”

How does she know that? “Hahh, yes…”

“Do you trust me?”

You stared at her beautiful features, your tired eyes not quite doing her justice. It was still like looking at a goddess, and you certainly wanted one in your life.

What other choice did you have? You would lay your life down for a person you had only known for a little while, by this point. But it’d be better than nothing.

“... Yes, I do,” you answered in a whisper.

When you finished uttering those words, she got close, close, so very close to your face. You could feel her breath. Your heart almost stopped functioning then.

“Tell me your name, sweetheart,” she said, her lips barely brushing against yours.

Your name rolled clumsily off your tongue. It seemed she was pleased nevertheless. “Wonderful, puppy,” she praised you and scratched a bit at your matted hair. Then, she gave you a small kiss on the mouth, which left you completely pliant. Her lips were so soft it was unreal.

She pulled away after an instant, and she held your chin between two of her fingers. She wanted you to look at her face, as she said, “My name’s Kafka. I’ve never had a dog, but I don’t mind being your owner,” you weren’t blinking as you stared at her, which made her smile. “You’re a cute one, and it’d be a shame to throw you back out because of this. I’ll take good care of you.”

“Kafka…” you tried saying her name. It almost tasted good.

“That’s me, puppy,” she replied, smiling slightly.

Oh, you’d definitely hand yourself over to her. You sank back down on the bathtub, trying to hide your flushed face and failing. Kafka approached you as you tried to distance yourself.

“Do you want me to wash you myself?” She asked with that sultry voice of hers, and you shook your head in embarrassment. She giggled. “No? Alright, I’ll just watch you then. I was willing to allow you some privacy, but I have to make sure you won’t drown yourself for real.”

That was fair, honestly. You did just try to end your life, and though it was a bit awkward for you, you enjoyed having someone close to you.

You diligently scrubbed away at the rest of the grime left on your skin, washed your hair (your ears, too!) and patted yourself dry all under Kafka’s attentive gaze, which by the end left you feeling way warmer than you would’ve expected. It only got worse when it was time for you to get dressed, and you noticed that she’d been sizing you up the moment you left the tub already clean and freshened up. She held no shame about it, either, looking you up and down but especially lingering on your breasts. You stood there, frozen, trying your hardest to ignore the pang of desire that having a woman stare at you so hungrily stirred within you. Surely she couldn’t see what you felt down there… right?

“You do know how to put on clothes on your own, don’t you?” She suddenly spoke up, eliciting a squeak out of you. “They’re waiting for us at the meeting room, darling. We’re gonna be late.”

Was she not aware of what she was doing? “But you were just staring at me like that…”

“Like what?” She posed the question simply, keeping that teasing tone of hers. She was absolutely doing it on purpose.

You gulped before answering. “You were focused on… on my chest and stuff…”

Kafka smiled wryly at your words. “Ah, that’s because I think you look very different when you’re not covered in blood,” that was probably not the reason for why she was checking you out so intensely, but still. “And like I said, puppy, you’re a cutie. They sent me pictures of you with your back flayed and your eye all bloody, and even then, I could still see how cute you were.”

A sense of immense confusion and alarm immediately made itself known in your brain. “What? Did you see my injuries? Were you the reason why I was in that cave?” You got those questions out like rapid fire, covering your chest up with the towel you were holding. “Did you have anything to do with me being like this? I need to know, please!”

Kafka tutted at you, shaking her head with a smile. “We’ll answer all your questions at the meeting, but you can’t go there naked,” she explained, making you feel frustrated at the levity with which she was treating you. “Get your clothes on and I’ll take you there straight away.”

Your breath stuttered, nerves taking over you, but you still managed to choke out, “Do you promise me you’ll tell me the truth?”

Her mauve eyes opened wide in surprise for a moment, before an amused glint appeared on them once more. “I promise, Y/n,” she says, seemingly sincere.

You just had to take her word for it. It was harder now that you knew she had something to do with your encounter, but in the end, you put on the outfit that was assembled for you: a white, frilly shirt with embroidered ends, a puffy black skirt, thigh highs and mary jane shoes all in the same color. You liked it, even if you felt it a little over the top that they had you dress like a doll to be inside the gothic mansion. You didn’t waste any time in telling Kafka that you were ready, and she dutifully led you out of the bathroom. You traversed through multiple corridors and floors before getting to the meeting room, which was the last door to the left on the fourth floor. The door looked to be the same as all the others.

The following meeting shattered what was left of your previous worldview. You could no longer be the skeptic you used to be, after a cat talked to you.

They sat you down on the chair that was in front of the big desk, and on top of it was a black cat. It made you smile how cute it was, and you asked Kafka if you could try and pet it. She looked like she was holding back laughter, and you soon knew why, as the cat told you he would prefer not to be touched in a professional setting such as this.

You appreciated that they gave you a few minutes to process this. After that, they explained some pretty important things to you about themselves; they were an organization destined for traveling all around the globe in search of cursed ancient relics called Stellarons. They were scattered all around the planet eons ago, and each one have been corroding and killing the area surrounding it, which posed a threat for any human settlements in that range. They didn’t tell you why they wanted them, but you could only assume it wasn’t to help anyone necessarily. They did mention that they guided themselves by prophecies and scripts, which was a bit of wording that stuck out to you immediately. Despite everything, you didn’t ask the cat to elaborate about that, since you figured you could just go to Kafka if you were still curious.

After that, they revealed to you their statuses as vampires, and though it surprised you, it contextualized why they were rushing to get back before sunrise. They introduced themselves soon after; you had Kafka, who winked at you and only told you about her inability to feel fear, something that you were ashamed to admit you found kind of hot; Blade, the exhausted man who was driving the car, said his name and also that he wanted to die. If he weren’t so scary, you would have been more inclined to talk to him, considering your position just half an hour back; Silver Wolf, the voice on the walkie talkie, who talked while tapping away at her phone; a girl named Firefly, whom you learned was Sam, and also that Sam was a special suit she needed to be inside of, in order to go outside. This was because all sunlight hurt her, even the one reflected by the moon. You could feel a sense of kinship with her, as the moon had become a harbinger of suffering for you too; finally, the black cat whose name was Elio, prophet and head of the Stellaron Hunters. He constantly used shapeshifting magic to make himself harder to find, both at home base and on missions. Quite a motley crew, you thought, but it was possible they got along just fine. You just didn’t know yet, and in your current situation, you didn’t quite see a way to find out.

Next up, they answered your questions about yourself and what you were doing here without you asking first, which you greatly appreciated. The information was also increasingly distressing to you, though, which you could have done without; aside from the whole cursed relic business, they were also in charge of dealing with werewolf packs. Wild werewolves were both enemies to vampires and overtly predatory towards humans, risking the hidden nature of their work and supernatural creatures at large— this meant that they had to take measures about the situation, and keeping their turf clear by hunting any werewolves that stepped out of line hasn’t failed them once. Naturally, they also took care of any casualties that arose, as was your case. Bite victims were placed in isolation with the restraints at their disposal, and if they took the correct measures for when their transformation happened, they’d be given options.

Those options, as you came to find out, were either staying at their mansion or living in one of the nearby cabins. No one was allowed to go back to their previous life, and in case they refused both options, there was only their execution awaiting them. Whichever option you chose, you’d be provided for and guided through your new way of life with only your secrecy in exchange. After this, Elio finally asked you which one you wanted.

You thought about it for a bit, or rather, you reflected on your life up until now to determine which option was best for you. It would’ve been way harder to decide if you had a normal life to go back to, but then again, you wouldn’t have been here in the first place if you did.

Living in a cabin on your own had its unique charm for sure. At one point, when you were dating someone, you wondered how it’d be to live in the forest just making the most of what you had. It seemed like a peaceful existence for sure, but there was the detail that you’d have to experience it all alone. You suppressed a shiver, the mere idea of stagnant silence enough to create a ripple of fear in your blood. It would seem you had enough of being left by yourself, in the end. This left you with a single option.

Needless to say, that option was also scary on its own. You’d be living with a bunch of people— scratch that, vampires— you weren’t familiar with, and though they didn’t actually seem like kidnappers, there was no telling the kinds of eccentricities or tendencies they might have. You had no idea if they had ulterior motives for you, if they’d make you their servant or anything of the sort…

In your hesitation, you glanced over to Kafka. She was facing the wall behind you, eyes strictly trained on it. You wondered if she’d been instructed to look away from you, as to not influence your decision.

Well, it didn’t work. When you looked over, all you could think about was how sweetly she had treated you, how she watched you nearly unblinking as you got dressed, how she loved to call you cute. You may have only been a new toy for her, but… it was so intoxicating just how much she wanted you. For someone like you, hungry for approval and affirmations, it felt like a sugar rush. For someone so wrapped up in self loathing as you were, being desired was a wonderful, complex shock to the system. Even if it was extremely confusing to pinpoint why she even liked you— you were far from cute, in your opinion— you still loved to hear it, you got a kick out of it. You were wanted, and Kafka was right here to act upon it.

If only you stayed with her, in this mansion.

That was a small price to pay, to be cherished. Even just a little while.

You communicated your choice to Elio, and he formally welcomed you to their home, in return. You would have your own room and your share of daily meals prepared by the housekeepers, as well as access to their basement every full moon. He added that you could walk around the house and go out as long as it was within the perimeter of their estate, and that he would know if you stepped out of bounds. If you needed anything more, you would have to seek out Kafka.

If I did that, I’d be killing two birds with one stone, you thought. Externally, you just nodded your head in understanding.

A few beats later, Elio’s feline visage had turned to Kafka and told her to seal the deal. Your heart leapt up to your throat when she turned to face you once more. The corners of her eyes had a pleased softness, and a subtle but intense mark of low simmering hunger. She stood in front of you, and she looked down at you as her irises glowed a dazzlingly beautiful magenta. Then, her words embedded themselves deep into your brain, heart and soul as she gave your body an order:

“You are now part of this domain for as long as your lycanthropic curse affects you. You cannot leave the premises unless allowed to by either Destiny’s Slave or me. Your lips are sealed on what was talked about in this meeting, as well as any other confidential information you might hear in the future. After this conversation, you will have disavowed your previous connections to human society. If it is discovered that you have acted against any of these commands, you will be punished accordingly. Everytime you think about disobeying, you will hear these words in your head,” her voice slid comfortably into your brain, taking root there right away. You were still in a daze when her gaze dimmed back to normal. “Are we in agreement, Y/n?”

“Yes,” you sighed dreamily, too love drunk to even think about being subtle.

She giggled at you. “It is done, Elio. Let’s greet her properly.”

They proceeded to do so without any hesitation, leading you down to their dining room for a banquet of sorts; there were plates of food lined up the entire length of the table, all of them quite… raw looking, at the very least. Kafka eased you into the seat that was to her left, seeing as she sat on the opposite side to Elio’s spot. There, you were served breakfast (or dinner, for everyone else at the table) by ghostly wisps, which were apparently just housekeeping sprites according to Kafka. She also told you not to worry your pretty little head with trying to understand the existence of magic, and you took that to heart, as she advised you so sweetly. Plus, you figured housekeeping sprites probably resembled convenient house appliances more than anything.

You tried so hard to keep your manners in check. You really did, but when you were faced with a big, juicy piece of steak and practically slapped in the nose by its deep, succulent aroma… your starvation hit you all at once, and the wolf inside your mind yanked you back for a moment. When you came to, your mouth was full of that delicious, bloody flavor, and you were gripping the meat like someone was trying to take it away from you. You yelped and wiped your hand on the napkin placed on your lap, only to be met with everyone else minding their own business and Kafka looking at you in amusement. When you asked her why no one called you out on such animalistic behavior, she chuckled and shook her head. All of the werewolves they’d picked up over the years had been starving for days, due to their aversion to hunting. This was a completely expected reaction to have, and in fact, it was impressive you had enough willpower to take over again so soon.

It was also adorable to see you hoard food in your cheeks like a little chipmunk, she added. You ate your food with your face permanently flushed, both from embarrassment and that fluttery feeling.

You were served a small cake for dessert, too. The words welcome home made you weep for a while, striking an exposed nerve in your heart that filled you with overwhelming emotion. You reminisced on every hardship you had to face, you were beside yourself with relief at having a place to live in, and you also cried for that home you would never get back. That home that made you so happy was a thing of the past, and though your conditions were never great, you still yearned for it. You would never see your family again, and it left you with bittersweet memories.

This all led to your rebirth, though. You were back, as a beast of claws and teeth, a non-human creature. It was still too much to handle, and you thought that it might stay that way for a while.

At least you had a safe place to sort it all out in, and you were protected by powerful people— vampires. They seemed to not mind having you around, at least, and there was Kafka. Even if she didn’t love you, at least she wanted to play with you. That was enough for you.

All you could do was thank them for everything before you dug in, and as expected, Kafka spoke for all of them. When she said that they were looking forward to you opening up more, you really wanted to believe her.

After eating, the white haired girl— Firefly, right— approached you and led you up to your room, which was on the second floor, next to Kafka’s. You knew this was no coincidence, and the answer you got from the soft spoken girl was quite curious. “This was part of the script, I think,” she said, slightly fidgeting in place. “I also thought, since you were a younger girl, that me and Silver Wolf could help decorate your room… but Kafka took it all upon herself to prepare for your arrival. I hope you like it! If you need anything that’s not in there, like plushies and stuff, just ask me. Nice to meet you, Y/n.”

What a kind girl… It was hard to see how she could be both a vampire and part of an artifact hunting organization. Maybe she was good at separating herself from her work persona once she got out of the suit. Either way, you echoed the sentiment, and she promptly left to give you some alone time. She figured you’d need it.

You proceeded to look around in awe, like some kind of peasant girl walking into a noble’s chambers. This was by far the biggest room you’d ever had for yourself, with a queen size bed, a large wooden closet, a vanity table, a balcony overlooking the garden and plenty of walking space? You pinched yourself just to confirm that you weren’t dreaming. The decoration was quite nice, too, utilizing lighter colors to contrast with the rest of the mansion. The covers on the bed were both light, pleasantly colored and extremely soft to the touch, which made you wonder if they actually found your social media profiles or if Kafka was just that good at reading people. Either option was possible in your mind, considering they were supernatural creatures and they had a master hacker on top of that.

You recalled what Firefly said to you, and you focused on the head of the bed to see if Kafka had left you a stuffed animal.

You smiled when you saw that she did. It was a long, squishy cat plushie. It warmed your heart with how cute it was, despite the pang of melancholy that came soon after. You missed your kitty. She was spared from your agony and your hardships before they truly started, and her absence was part of that fresh wound that never had the chance to start healing. You wept at the memory of her, too. You won’t be getting a new cat anytime soon, but this little one would do just fine.

A wave of exhaustion hit you all at once when you embraced the stuffed creature. It appeared that the wolf had spent all your energy, despite you not being around for it. Just another thing to adapt to.

That could wait for another day, but at that very instance, all you wanted to do was rest.

You had earned this. Despite how much you hated yourself, you had gone through unconceivable horrors that no human should ever have been exposed to, and perhaps this was your consolation prize. A warm, soft bed, a wonderful plushie, a spacious room, and… the lady who did all of this, just for you.

You thought about Kafka as you gradually fell asleep, and as you did, you felt your heart twist in a good way.

You felt loved by her.

For the next couple of months that followed, you felt the same way, despite not actually knowing if she saw you as anything more than an endearing plaything. Whenever she was home she kept you close to her, even if you were already hanging out with Firefly or Silver Wolf, and she’d make sure to have her hands on you in some type of way. She played with your hair, fidgeted with your fingers, squeezed at your waist… it was all very distracting, and you definitely felt the awkward energy sometimes, especially from poor Firefly. In a similarly shameless fashion, the fact that you were awake during the day didn’t stop Kafka from calling you up to her room so she could cuddle you in bed. She seemed to enjoy kissing your neck and giving your ears little nips with her teeth. There’d be times when she would bite down harder, though, and she’d hum to herself in satisfaction after you yelped.

You always wondered if she knew this whole time about your masochism. She had never talked to you about it, or about how she liked giving you small doses of pain. It could very well just be that she was a sadist, in which case, it was only a matter of time until she found out just how compatible you were.

You also questioned whether or not she would’ve found your tendencies to be off putting. You liked to wager that she wouldn’t, considering she’d been alive for a couple centuries already, at the very least, and she’d probably seen worse things than self harm for sexual gratification. She could’ve even found it tempting, since she was a vampire and all that… but you never know.

Actually, why hasn’t Kafka drank your blood by this point? She’d gotten closer to pushing your bra down than ever sinking her fangs into your neck, which was just baffling to you. To you, she seemed like the type to enjoy a fresh meal, and you’d been stuck in her web on many occasions. She had you right there, pulse hammering against your skin, red nectar lying just below the surface, and with the certainty that you could endure being drained almost dry. It was strange, quite frankly, and… wait.

Could it be that werewolf blood tastes bad?

You gasped when that thought crossed your mind, and Kafka, who was currently holding you in her arms and sucking lazily at your throat, let out a questioning “Hmm?”

You might as well just go for it at once. “Kafka, I just thought about something,” you said, looking directly into her pink eyes. She had already removed all of her makeup, which meant the contacts had to come off, too. Her eyes were also beautiful like this, but that wasn’t the point.

“Mm, what is it, puppy? I was about to fall asleep…” she croaked out, her voice already laced with sleep. It made sense, considering it was already eleven in the morning. You couldn’t help but find it cute. “If it’s about my trip, I already told you I’m coming back right when the moon’s gonna be completely dark—”

“That’s not what I meant, silly,” you laughed a little. It was kind of weird to think that you already trusted her enough to joke around like that, but it was just something that came naturally to you. You frowned as you posed your question, however. “Do… Do vampires hate werewolf blood?”

One of Kafka’s hands came up to rest against your cheek, caressing it tenderly. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes, a product of how sensitive your heart became after everything that happened. “Tell me why you’re asking that and I’ll answer you,” she murmured close to your face. The feeling of her breath against your skin made you want to hide. It was hard to feel like you deserved to be in her bed in the first place.

You sighed, hating that you could feel the pout on your lips. You were lucky that Kafka liked you for how pathetic you were. “I just thought that, because I see you drinking blood wine so often, you might like… tasting blood from the source sometimes…” God, why did you even say anything? You sounded so stupid. You continued, either way. “A-And since you kiss my neck whenever we’re laying in bed, it wouldn’t be hard for you to bite down and drink some blood. But you never do, and I just wonder if it’s because my blood doesn’t taste good.”

You felt ten times more dumb when she giggled in response. “Sweetheart, you’re always so quick to blame yourself. Were you taught to be like this?”

“I think it’s that I’m not all that great in the first place…” you whispered sincerely. She wouldn’t judge you for this, at least, after having witnessed the culminating act of your self hatred the day you were picked up. “I don’t get what you see in me, Kafka. I’m not attractive, and I’m very mundane, compared to you. I thought maybe you liked me for the ears and the tail, but if me being a werewolf makes my blood disgusting, then I’m not sure why you keep me around. Do you just like toying with me? Because I’m young, and stupid, and naive, and—”

“Stop talking, Y/n. That’s enough.”

Your mouth clamped shut as you felt her threads creep into your mind. Okay, she had definitely never silenced you like this, during these past few months. There was always a first time, though, and you wondered if this would happen more often as she got gradually more and more tired of you.

Kafka sighed as she moved onto touching your lips, relishing in the plush feel of them. “Mm, I think I kind of get it… you keep all of your hatred to yourself. You’re selfish in that regard, puppy,” you still couldn’t speak, which led you to make noises that meant to ask her ‘What does that mean?’. She understood you well enough, and chuckled to herself. “My point is… I’m greedy enough to want to monopolize your emotions. I want your love, your happiness, your sadness,” she started to inch closer to your face, definitely aiming for your mouth. Your breath hitched. “Your despair, your fear…” when her lips touched with yours, she opened her mouth and bit down on your skin, causing you to let out a muffled shriek. You tried not to moan as she ran her tongue over the wounds, her body temperature still warm from the dinner she consumed a few hours ago— wait, is she…? “And I want your hatred too, darling. You can hate me a little,” she whispered hotly, sucking at your lip in between sentences. You squirmed in place, gripping her night clothes and aching both from arousal and the relief washing over you. She was drinking your blood right now! You were clearly of use to her!

She kept kissing you for a while, until all the blood had dried up. You were dizzy from the lack of oxygen your brain was receiving. She swallowed before speaking up once more. “Just so you don’t have any more chances to put yourself down so violently… We do drink werewolf blood,” she started explaining to you, in case it wasn’t crystal clear already from her previous demonstration. “A portion of our previous guests chose to become providers for us, as a way to show their gratitude. Blood from a converted werewolf is just as delectable as any human’s, and in fact, there’s more depth of flavor. I, for one, love drinks that are worth savoring every sip…” she moved up to whisper in your ear, pressing you up against her bust. You were extremely flushed. “And the only reason I hadn’t tasted you yet was that I wanted you at your best. Blood is the most delicious at the peak of pleasure, baby.”

You were so invested in her voice that you didn’t notice how you were grinding yourself on her thigh. Once she got away from your sensitive ears, you looked down at yourself and immediately recoiled from Kafka, embarrassed to no end. The woman with the wine colored hair, on the other hand, had a satisfied smile on her face. “Mhm, and from what I can see, I won’t have to wait too long to get my full prize. This was just a sneak peek,” she definitely had a right to sound that confident, god… there was no way she hadn’t been charming girls for centuries now. “Oh right! You can speak now, Y/n, sorry for shutting you up so suddenly.”

“... Are we doing it when you come back from your trip?” You asked first thing, in the smallest voice possible, still not looking at her.

“Do you consent, darling? You know a vampire can’t come in unless they’re invited.”

“That sounds like bullshit, Kafka…”

“It is,” she said charmingly. “But superstitions are hilarious. I order spaghetti aglio e olio when I’m in Italy just to amuse myself sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but snort at that. You enjoyed her silly side a lot. It left you with a fuzzy feeling whenever she’d joke around like that with you.

“Do you actually want to do it, Y/n? Answer me.”

“Yes,” you breathed out without hesitation. Perhaps your lycanthropic condition had aggravated your neediness. “I want it so badly, you’ve been teasing me for so long with all the kissing and touching and staring…”

“I can’t help the fact that your boobs are wonderful, puppy,” she said, as if she was telling you something obvious.

“And you even say these kinds of things!” You exclaimed, in exasperation and sexual frustration. “God, Kafka, you’re killing me…”

“Don’t die on me, baby,” she purred at you, petting your ears. It felt good. “You gotta wait until we get to our main event in a few weeks. I’m not into getting down with the deceased, you know what I mean?”

You shivered in disgust at the prospect. Necrophilia was a step too far for you. “Eugh, thank god… I’d pour chlorine into my mouth if you told me you’ve kissed dead people.”

“I had a fling with Bladie roughly 120 years ago, though? Does it—”

“It does not count! Dead and undead are different, one still has a conscience and the other is dead,” you gave her your reasoning, even if what she told you was news to you. Should you feel insecure? If it happened over a century ago, it probably wasn’t that serious in the first place, and…

You were nothing to her, still. You weren’t her girlfriend, if anything, you were her pet. You didn’t get to choose, you had no right to be jealous. Even if, deep inside, you wanted to mean more to her than what you currently were.

“How about a zombie, Y/n? Would you be attracted to a lady that also happens to be a decaying corpse?”

Okay, now she was trying to make fun of you. You appreciated her efforts, but perhaps you weren’t in the best mood at the time.

You weren’t about to be rude to her, instead choosing to breathe out and curl up to her, resting your head over where her heart should’ve been. It was beating lethargically, as it was probably running out of blood to pump through her body. It was still comforting to you, nevertheless, and her scent was equally as relaxing. “I wouldn’t kiss her because getting an infection would be a pain in the ass, but it depends on if I love her and if she’s still pretty…” you whispered against her chest, wrapping your arms around her waist to press closer. “Enough chit chat, mistress,” you used the term intentionally, as you knew it was tantalizing to her in the context of you. “Silver Wolf said you guys leave at 8. Get some nice rest before that, I’ll be here.”

She stayed quiet for a moment before sighing dreamily, pressing a steady hand against your hair and hooking her leg over your hips, giving you the body pillow treatment. “My dog is telling me to go to sleep already? Unheard of,” she giggled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You hid further into her silken pajamas. “But you’re so cute that I’ll let it slide. Text me with details if you want me to do anything special on our night together.”

Your breath stuttered. You almost forgot, almost. “I will… sleep well, Kafka.”

“Thank you, puppy. I love you.”

And so, you were left to wait for her to fall asleep, with your wandering, inappropriate thoughts.

You weren’t brave enough to tell her verbally, but you’d let her know about your tendencies when it was time to make arrangements.

You were excited at the prospect, both because you’d wanted this for so long and because she wanted you. You and only you, as far as you knew.

You were definitely one of the luckiest lesbians in the world. You got to be in a beautiful lady’s arms on a daily basis, for one.

And now, you were one step closer to fulfilling one of your fastest growing urges.

This was going to be a long two weeks, but at least, she was still here.

She held you like she actually loved you, and as you soon drifted into unconsciousness along with Kafka, you thought about it.

It would’ve been nice if her feelings were genuine, if you felt like you were worthy.

Pretending was just fine with you, though.

Her warmth was real, and that’s all that mattered.

. 

. 

. 

As time dragged on by, you came to understand exactly why house pets were so opposed to being left alone for too long. You felt the same way, seeing as even Silver Wolf had to go on that trip. You were all on your own and completely silent, aside from the times Kafka would call you. After all, the housekeeping sprites weren’t capable of speech, and there were no more friends you could talk to. Feeling lonely was hard on you, reminding you of the time you thought you’d die alone, unloved and unknown, so this was certainly stressful. Not to mention how you’d been practically bursting with desire after your conversation with your mistress.

You were relieved to find out she wasn’t opposed to your self mutilating ways, as she expressed that you both could play into it if you so wished; after all, unlike the scars remaining from when you were human, all evidence of violence on your skin would be gone in a couple of days. You saw that as both a perk and a disappointment in your masochistic brain, since you enjoyed staring at the evidence of your actions on your skin. You liked feeling the raised, soft scar tissue, and prodding at it to feel a slight burn. You’d certainly miss the permanent element to it in your wolven existence, but that would only make it all the more important to savor it.

It was one of the things that made this such an exciting prospect, but she also made sure to rile you up with promises of her own; she’d hurt you just the way you like it, scare you just right, squeeze you all over, fuck you until sunrise… and she’d enjoy it all, in case you were thinking about getting into your own head about her feelings. This was no charity case, she wanted to watch you bleed.

It was far beyond titillating, it was like you had awoken to an unadulterated lust that inhabited inside you all this time. You were a fairly horny person already, but that was before having a real woman who was willing to have sex with you. Having someone to share your libido with was something entirely different to faceless fantasies, and you found yourself yearning for her touch. You wanted her to hold you like she always did, and finally do everything she told you she’d do to you. This turned into you sending her an ungodly amount of pictures, videos and audio files, nearly all of them depicting you in a state of arousal, masturbating to the thought of her. She responded only through text, but that didn’t stop her from egging you on, with comments about how badly she wanted to have you whining like that on her lap, or how she’d grope your tits until they had red marks in the shape of her palms. It was basically a feedback loop, and it resulted in you spending half the time humping into anything in Kafka’s room and the other half sunbathing in the garden and trying not to lose your mind. You were lonely, in heat, and plagued by visions of the monster that changed your life forever. A truly pitiful disposition.

You found solace in the waning moon, though. It helped you count down the days until she’d come back.

Until it finally happened. You couldn’t see the moon in the sky today.

You went up to her room to get everything ready, according to the instructions she gave you. She told you to put on the lingerie set tucked away in the leftmost drawer of her dresser, and to hold off on relieving yourself. You did just as she said. You sat near the entrance of the house, acutely aware of the lace underwear under your dress. Then, you waited.

You waited and waited, not taking your eyes off the door. Weren’t you like an actual dog?

You even heard the first drop of rain hit the ground beyond the porch. Then another, then more. You texted Kafka about possible delays from the rain, she didn’t answer. You pouted to yourself, trying to ignore both the gnawing feeling growing inside you and the sound your tail made as it whipped against the wooden stairs. As time dragged on, you stopped yourself from crying, even if it was getting harder by the minute; it was raining pretty heavily now, and you hadn’t heard a peep from your phone at any point. Did something happen? Is she going to come back at some other point? Is this finally it for your illusion of being wanted?

Your ear twitched in the direction of a sound far away, making you gasp. Through the rain, it kind of sounded like a car approaching. It was getting closer and closer, you heard a metal gate open… and you couldn’t help yourself. You stood up, you unlocked the door, yanked it open and stepped out onto the porch. Indeed, there was a black car pulling up, driving until it stopped in front of the mansion. You watched as a dark umbrella was opened and someone got under it, the person slowly revealing themselves…

It was like she knew you’d be outside. Otherwise, why would she have shown you her electric, glowing pink eyes?

Your feet moved on their own. Almost like a magnetic pull, you went down the stairs as fast as possible and proceeded to bolt towards her. It didn’t matter that you were soaked, your clothes would be off soon enough.

All you wanted was to stand in front of her, cut through the petrichor and get hit in the face by her perfume. When you were just a few meters away, it was like she became even more beautiful, even in the low light from the interior of the house. She was somehow even more fragrant, and you had to stop yourself from getting up close and nosing at her. You couldn’t do that, not yet. As she smiled and covered you with her umbrella, three words left your mouth like air.

“Welcome home, Kafka.”

She placed a steady hand on your shoulder, tugging you to walk side by side with her. You could only greet the other Stellaron Hunters in an off-handed manner, but that didn’t mean you missed the sarcastic gagging motion Silver Wolf directed towards the both of you. You would’ve laughed if it didn’t feel like Kafka’s touch was scorching you, even through your clothes and her gloves.

You had dinner together. She sat beside you, squeezing at your thigh with a constantly tightening grip. It was very brave of you to not let out any whimpers or pathetic sounds of a similar nature.

Finally, finally, she excused both you and herself from the table. She led you up the stairs, and by this point, you didn’t have enough brain power left to decipher everyone else’s expressions. You just hoped they wouldn’t be too bothered by the noise you were about to make, in case soundproofing spells weren’t a thing. You had no idea.

Even if they did, there was no telling whether Kafka might like some degree of exhibitionism or not. She might just want everyone to hear what she’ll be doing to you. Once again, you were riling yourself up.

She didn’t say a single word as she guided you to her room, but once you walked in, she closed the door behind you and pushed you up against it. When she expertly discarded her gloves in front of you, your eyes widened, and you shivered in excitement. It put a smirk on Kafka’s lips.

“You really missed me, didn’t you?” She commented, not even waiting for you to react as she immediately added, “Strip.”

All you had to do was slip the straps off your shoulders. One then the other, and just like that, the garment pooled onto the floor like fallen confetti. You stepped out of your shoes, and presented yourself fully to your owner, your wet hair a cold sting upon your skin. That wasn’t the only reason why you had goosebumps; her gaze was hungry, as she took in the sight of you in the clothes she had prepared. She approached you slowly, like a predator stalking forward, and you backed away at the same pace. You hit the surface of the door, and eventually, all you could see was her face. She held you loosely by the throat, and whispered just a few centimeters away from you. “Not backing down, puppy?”

“I want you so badly,” you replied without thinking, but fully conveying your feelings.

As she tightened her grasp around your neck, you reached up to hold her wrist. Your head was already a little fuzzy. “Yes or no, Y/n. Answer me properly.”

You gasped at the growing lightheadedness, which turned into pleasure as it ran down to your pelvis. “Hah, n-no… I’m not backing down, Kafka— my mistress…”

You should’ve been ashamed of how quickly you slipped into that mindset, but it was too good. Too good, too easy to do.

You found a purpose when Kafka smiled at your response, completely pleased, from what you could tell. She loosened her grip, and instead put a finger to your lips. “You’re so good for me, baby… I never thought a mutt could be so adorable,” she muttered sweetly, subsequently scratching your lip with her fingernail as the tip of your tongue darted out to touch her bare skin. You moaned a little.

Then, she grabbed the back of your head and put her lips on yours. The kiss started out in a manner you were used to; gentle but firm, with a clear rhythm for you to follow. Kafka always took the lead, kissing you like she was guiding your clumsy, desperate self in a dance far more beautiful than anything you could ever do on your own. She had put on flavored lip balm on top of the lipstick she chose for today, and you sighed in delight at the taste of blackberries. She herself tasted like iron and something deeper, the aftertaste from the blood wine she sipped on after her meal still lingering on her tongue. Soon, you would replace that flavor, that scent.

Just remembering that made you hold on tighter to her back, leaning more into it and showing her your desire by pressing your lips harder together. You wanted her to take you by force, to make you truly hers and never leave you. More than anything, you wanted to feel like you were important.

It was as if you unlocked something inside of her. Her lips turned voracious, as if seeking to imprint themselves on you forevermore. You squirmed and whined in overstimulation as she sucked on your tongue and bit it, only to tangle it in hers. Her spit turned your tissue all the more sensitive, and slowly but surely, her toxin was entering your bloodstream. This was all so good, so overwhelming.

You opened your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself and ignore the growing dampness on your crotch. All you found was her mauve depths staring right back, intensely, as if stripping you down to the bone.

You wanted to cry. She was staring right into your soul, and you only wanted her more and more. Luckily for you, she didn’t plan on just kissing you senseless tonight.

She released your mouth with a wet pop, just so she could dive in to suck and lick at your neck. Her lips were just as ravenous on your skin, and she even teased you by brushing the tips of her fangs over the places she touched, producing full body shivers in you. Your blood was rushing through your veins under lipstick stains, vessels surely to break and darken. She was going to make you wait for her satisfaction.

That didn’t go for everything she was doing to you, though. She pulled back to stare at you, legs as wobbly as a fawn’s and tail wagging incessantly against the door, for just a moment. One calculating moment, where her smile had something darker to it. You got wetter.

She hummed in satisfaction before grabbing your arm roughly and yanking you in her direction, not even letting you finish yelping before she threw you over her shoulder and took a couple of steps. Your head was spinning from the suddenness of it all, and viewing the floor from upside down was something you hadn’t experienced since you were a child. Kafka was quick to remind you that this was far from innocent, giving you a firm slap to the ass and subsequently tugging your tail up. You made a sound like a whimper.

“Did that hurt, puppy?” She asked, as if it mattered what you had to say right now. You wanted to be at her mercy, after all.

“Mgh, yeah…” you responded dreamily, the light stinging on your butt heating you up further. You cried out once more as she struck down her palm on the same spot, employing much more of her strength than previously. The loud sound of your skin thundered through you as much as the actual storm outside.

“Did the stupid little creature already forget how she’s supposed to address me?” her question is dripping with sweet poison, making something in your chest writhe. You were sinking more and more. “Hmm?”

“Mistress, ngh— my beautiful mistress…” the praise rolled off your tongue like the drool threatening to spill from your mouth. You couldn’t stop yourself from being sincere.

She sighed happily over you. You lived for the duality of her treatment of you. “There we go. You obey well enough for a dirty mutt,” her words electrified you further, just as she threw you onto her bed. You bounced a little, and she soon followed you, crawling over you like a predator. “But I should train you even more, darling,”

She reached behind herself, and made you realize just how unobservant you’d been a few moments ago.

She pulled out a gun from her back pocket.

“Don’t move or I’ll kill you. Do you understand? Yes or no.”

A cold chill ran down your spine upon realizing that this was the surprise she had in store for you, but it didn’t deter your arousal. Considering it a little further, you might actually like it if she shoots you. You opened your mouth to answer. “Y-Yes, mistress…”

“Good. Now stay still,” her tone got lower than usual, a deep, dangerous purr that made it seem as if she’d love nothing more than putting a bullet in you. She didn’t seem to mind your incessant trembling, both guessing that it was involuntary and finding it absolutely adorable. You were trying so hard to keep your tail in check, and you had to try ten times as hard as she started dragging the pistol up your body, barrel of the silencer to your skin. It caressed both the softness of your abdomen and the lacy fabric of the lingerie. The metal was slightly warm, and you would’ve almost found it comfortable, were it not for the next words to come out of Kafka’s mouth. “I have three bullets left inside this mag,” she informed you in a whisper, teasing your left nipple before pointing the gun to your heart. Oh, oh. You were feeling it now, that primal fear. A chilling, heady feeling. “Take a guess, sweetheart: is the gun locked or not?”

Your gaze wandered down to your chest, and you quickly spotted the firearm and Kafka’s grin. Your breath stuttered. You couldn’t remember which part was the lock, but… you thought you knew Kafka well enough to answer. “I… I don’t think it’s locked,” your voice came out small, a tiny squeak escaping you when she giggled.

To your shock, her other hand snaked its way up your body and came to rest on your other breast. She pinched your nipple idly, as her thumb dragged a small latch on the handgun. You heard the small clicking of it, realizing your mistake. “Well, now it isn’t,” she said, full of mirth, before she readied the gun with her left hand. Oh, oh, oh, she could actually shoot you. Your eyes were wide with panic, but it was thrilling. She could make the decision to hurt you in a split second. “You really thought you did something there, huh? Don’t try to read me,” she slid the gun upwards until it came into contact with your mouth. You muffled a terrified whimper against your shut lips, though the sound was also needy. Your brain shut down as it failed to focus on either firing up your danger response or letting your panties soak further. “Suck on it, c’mon. I promise I’ll try to keep my finger in check…”

And without any hesitation, you did. You opened your mouth and eagerly took the silencer as she pushed it in, hitting it against your cheeks and your palate. You didn’t have much experience sucking on things but you tried your best anyway, as best of a performance you could give while dizzy with fear and high from adrenaline. She was one move away from blowing your brains off, and yet here you were, licking the gun as she smirked at you. She put it further and further into your throat as if it were her cock. The thought was absolutely intoxicating.

You weren’t even sure you could recover from getting shot in the head, but if Kafka was the one killing you, it definitely wouldn’t be so bad.

The tip of the silencer hit a sensitive spot in your throat and you gagged, coughing around it. Despite this, you tried to recover and keep pleasing the handgun. Kafka outright laughed at you. “I could never ask you to blow my strap if you’re struggling to take a mere silencer,” she said, gently mocking you as you moaned when she started fucking your mouth. “You wanna try seeing what happens when I shoot you, cutie? Nod for yes and shake your head for no.”

You nodded without even hesitating or thinking.

She looked surprised for only a moment, before switching to a wry, ravenous grin. “Oh, baby… maybe I’m lucky we don’t live close to any highways,” she leaned down to put her lips to your ear, stilling the gun deep inside your oral cavity. Your breathing quickened as panic rushed into you. Oh god oh god she’s going to kill me oh my god, you thought. “You’d just run away and get yourself hit by a car, you suicidal little thing,” she whispered tenderly, giving your ear a lovebite and then just lingering there in silence. You shivered wordlessly, shutting your eyes tightly and waiting for the bullet to connect with your flesh. This would hurt.

…

…?

Wait. Why was she tugging the gun away?

You unlatched from it, letting her take it out. It was completely covered in your spit, and it was probably some kind of ruined. The silencer seemed to be done for, at least. Kafka looked it over for a few beats before putting the safety latch back in and tossing it to the floor carelessly. She turned her attention back to you once again, her expression warm. “You did very well, puppy,” she spoke to you lovingly, and your whole body shuddered from how electrifying the praise felt after that experience. “That was the little surprise I had in store for you, I thought you’d like it since you told me about your masochistic tendencies… I’d like to hear from you before we continue,” she leaned back down to be face to face with you, brushing the sweat slicked hair away from your face. She let out a puff of air onto your cheek. “Were you frightened in a good way?”

Your jaw was shaking just like every other part of your body at the moment. You closed your eyes to try and pacify your racing heart. Without meaning to, you clung to Kafka’s back. “I-I think I was scared… But I liked it,” your voice was small and vulnerable, though it still conveyed excitement. “W-Were you going to actually shoot me?”

Your previous curiosity was nothing compared to how your heart fluttered after hearing her answer. There was something else to the way her eyebrows scrunched ever so slightly, as she said, “It’d be very painful for you to recover from being shot point blank in the head. I would rather not do that to you, puppy.”

Once again, it felt like love to be cared for this way. By this point, you were far too high to try and stop yourself from going with it. After a lovesick sigh and a full body shiver, you decided to grab her hand, placing it on top of your racing heart. Your neediness spoke for you. “Please… Hurt me like you love me too. I want you.”

She looked stunned at your words for just a few seconds. Then, a beautiful smirk spread across her lips, and she giggled, squeezing the breast nearest to your thundering heartbeat. Your whimper only delighted her even more. “I get it now, baby. If that’s the only way you’ll realize how much I like you, I’ll do it,” she sealed her lips over yours sweetly, dipping her tongue in for a taste of your mouth before pulling away. She reached up to grab at your tongue, and you moaned. “My cute little messed up girl… you’re the best one yet. I’ll make sure you remember me.”

All of your thoughts melted out of your brain, even the important ones. You didn’t register the implications of her confession, you just felt them, and your heart liquefied into lust completely. You started babbling around her fingers, something that was probably supposed to be god Kafka please fuck me I can’t take this anymore, but it was completely unintelligible. It didn’t matter, anyway, as she let go of your tongue only to bite down on it. You gasped in delight and pain as your blood flowed into your mouth, and as she licked it off, she glided her fingers over your body to expertly undo your remaining clothes; surely she was a master of untying laces and ribbons, both on herself and other people. You heeded her wordless commands to move around so she could strip you, and soon enough, you were laid bare for her.

She sat on her heels for a few instances, just to watch you shiver with no clothes on. You were just as perfect as the day she met you. You were flushed, but not unhealthily so like back then. She loved the detail of your pebbled nipples and the wet shimmer in between your legs, impossibly soaked after all that foreplay. The thought of you somehow adding to it after what she was gonna do was far too exciting.

Oh, she realized, I’m hot and bothered too. Time to dress down. Actually, since you were there…

She spread her legs slowly, looking at you with simmering excitement in her eyes. “You got me sweating over here, puppy,” she purred, leaning back on her palms. “Won’t you get this suit off of me? I know you wanna touch me as well… go on, darling.”

You let her finish talking because you loved to hear her voice, but once she was done, you pounced forward immediately. You whimpered quietly as you nosed incessantly at her neck, your hands quickly working her tie loose and subsequently chucking it somewhere else. Her shirt and pants followed a similar fate, and you pawed at the clasps of her bra with suddenly useless fingers. Your pathetic cries tugged at her heartstrings. “Shush, pretty baby… Let me help you with that,” she soothed you softly as she reached behind her and unhooked the clasps first try, surely with expertise after having worn bras for a full century. You made quick work of removing her bra, and once you did… you buried your face in the valley between her breasts. You nuzzled her skin for a few seconds before beginning to kiss everywhere your lips could reach, tenderly sucking at the fair skin of her tits and fondling the one you weren’t currently focusing on. Kafka couldn’t resist the urge to pet the back of your head, digging her fingers through your hair as she panted. It felt good, it was undeniable, but you were what got her like this. You and that lovedrunk expression on your face, the wagging of your tail behind you. Those feverish murmurs against her skin, as you chanted “Love you, Kafka, I love you…” like a prayer… You truly were nothing short of what she was looking for all this time.

She hadn’t felt this pent up for a long while.

You wound up with your head yanked forcibly away from her cleavage, which she made up for by devouring your lips with kisses as she pinned you to the mattress once more. She did just enough to leave you breathless while she retrieved a knife and a towel from her drawers. Meanwhile, your brain slushed inside your skull when she leaned over you. Her boobs were so beautiful, so big, the nipples were such a nice shade of pink, and the red marks blossoming forth were all your doing. That was all you, evidence of how much you wanted her. You missed her, you loved her so so much…

Her voice put a stop to the unhinged train of thought inside your head. “Lift your legs up a little for me, puppy?”

You obeyed without question and watched as she laid a thick, black towel down on the bed. You trembled when she pushed your thighs back down with both of her gentle hands. Your body was wracked by a full body shudder, though, when she presented the ornate blade to you. It was such a stunning, evidently handcrafted black knife, that you almost didn’t feel like you deserved to be hurt by it. Almost. In reality, you were far too excited and you loved Kafka too much to back down because of your petty self perception. A fond smile spread across Kafka’s wine red lips, and at that very instance, she decided to make you wait just a little longer. “Seems you like the choice I made, Y/n,” she pointed your clear excitement out as she crawled over to you, leaning down to speak close to your ear. “I got this from a man I killed a couple of years back. His grip slipped after I shot him, but the knife’s good as new, luckily,” the sensation of her breath next to your ear made you clench your thighs together to get some friction, which Kafka found amusing. “Did that get you horny, darling? Such an adorable freak.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, the anticipation in you coiling and thrashing intensely. “Please, please, mommy,” you begged her feverishly while pawing at her back, not realizing what you just called her.

Her surprise at this was only momentary, and the delight from the word that just slipped from your mouth was the last push she needed. You were so cute it made her want to crush your bones. She licked your ear before firmly settling between your legs, the smell of your arousal dizzyingly close to her nose. “You’re already so fucked out you don’t even know what you’re saying,” she remarked, voice full of mirth and sultry lust. She relished in the whimper you gave her as she touched you with the blade, and finally added, “I’m sure you’ll sound even dumber after I’m done with you, my little puppy.”

She teased you with the cold metal for only a few minutes more while she kissed the skin of your thighs. It all felt good, but… nothing could compare to the first cut she made.

Fast, searing, deep. You screamed and jolted to look down, panting heatedly. Oh, god, you got a glimpse of fatty tissue before the blood poured out… you whined at how good the sting felt, and after Kafka looked up to check on you, she took a finger to your wound and collected some blood. She poked your flesh while she did this, and you let out a sinful moan as your legs spasmed. She made a show of licking her finger, humming in satisfaction as if tasting a gourmet meal. “I was right, baby, you taste like candy right now,” she purred next to your wound, the sensation of her words on your skin heightened due to the pain. “Thanks for the dessert, I’ll make sure to enjoy it.”

You were sure she did just that, as she gave you pleasure you could’ve never even fathomed. She carved so deep into you, leaving you with a wonderful, throbbing pain that made your mind go blank. You could barely register when she made a new cut, too focused on the silent screaming of your injuries and the feeling of Kafka lapping up your blood diligently. Maybe this is how it feels to be just a piece of meat: a quick drag, pressed deeply to your skin, resulting in another bleeding wound. Kafka’s tongue moved expertly inside the gashes, and her saliva felt scorching, burning against the exposed tissues. It reminded you a little bit of wax, quickly melting and being absorbed in order to add even more to your desire. This was probably the most direct way for her venom to take effect inside your system, and truly, you were going mad. The coherence in your brain was truly, fully out the window, instead replaced by the rapid pulsing of your veins, your heart.

Your insides were also affected by your pulse, and Kafka noticed how your vagina clenched in tandem with your moans. She huffed through her nose in amusement, the puff of air blown directly into your flesh and making your hips jolt. “You look so sad and lonely down here, it’s truly pitiful,” she remarked this before swiping two fingers up the length of your pussy, collecting some excess slick and briefly pressing your clit at the end. You sobbed at the brief, sweet pang of electricity that spread out. “It seems all you want to do is swallow my cock whole… but you’ll have to settle for now, sweetheart. Good puppies sit still for their reward, and I haven’t finished having my fill yet.”

Just a few seconds later, she dipped both of her fingers back down, rubbed the inner lips of your pussy for a little… and immediately pushed them inside all the way. It was way too easy, they met no resistance, and your gasp quickly devolved into a loud whine as she jammed her digits against that spongy patch inside you. The roughness almost hurt, but it was far outweighed by the delicious vertigo that assaulted your senses. “Aah! Fuck, Kafka– Aahn, ah–” her movements turned relentless, her lips sucking at the numerous cuts on your legs. She wouldn’t even let you speak properly.

“Mm, I love that you only know how to say my name,” she said, pausing to lick the red off of her lips. “I’m not even your mistress anymore, all you see is Kafka. Answer me this, Y/n, as well as you can at the moment… Do you love me?”

“Hngh– What–“ It seemed you didn’t even hear her, only coming back down from cloud nine when she completely stopped her movements.

That was until she directly stuck her index and middle fingers inside one of your gaping, raw wounds. You let out a high pitched cry, it hurt so much as she stretched it wide like she would the walls of your pussy. It felt so good. “Do you love me, you stupid little mutt?”

“Aah! Ah, oww– I l-love–“ you stopped to sob as she caressed your sensitive nerves, resetting your brain for a moment. “I love you so much, Kafka, mngh… you’re my god.”

Those words snapped away a chunk of her self control, significant enough as to lunge at your neck. She clawed at your wounds at the same time she bit down on your neck and sucked harshly. The white, blinding pain was indistinguishable from the rest of the mounting pleasure, and all you could do in the face of it was scream as you reached your climax. Kafka harmonized with you in the form of a low growl when your artery gave way, your blood deeply sweet and complex at its peak point of extraction. She stopped toying with your injuries and decided to squeeze your thigh instead, staying in that position with you for a little bit.

You definitely lost consciousness for a few minutes. When you came back to your senses, in the midst of recovering from the tactical nuke that was your first orgasm ever, Kafka was already standing next to your head with her strap fully on display for you. Your eyes widened like saucers at the sight: it was definitely phallic shaped but not enough to straight up be her dick, it was a deep burgundy color just like her hair, and… it was huge. You didn’t even know how to measure it, it was just big, but one thing you knew for certain was that it would hurt.

Your legs twitched at the thought, and she immediately noticed this, her chuckle basically a puff of air. “Great timing you have, baby, I’ve barely just put this on,” she said as she circled back to your legs, climbing over to you until she could put her strap over the mound of your pelvis, trying to measure just how deep she’ll reach in. Your moans were embarrassingly high pitched as she dragged her nails over your cuts and spoke, “I wonder if finally filling you up will do anything to fix your self hatred. I don’t give out rewards easily, but you’re just so cute and loyal… I can’t help it.”

You found it befuddling that she sounded even remotely as horny as you were feeling, but you had no time to dwell on it. You looked down when she started grinding on your clit with the strap, and shortly after that, she lined herself up. You whined in anticipation, and right before digging in, Kafka licked her lips. “Cry louder for me, won’t you?” she whispered, with just enough power to make you follow her command.

She pushed it in slowly, certainly attempting to torture you by making you feel every single inch of it. She succeeded, indeed, as you wailed from overstimulation at how it just kept getting bigger and never seemed to bottom out. By the time it did, you could almost feel it in your throat, and your walls burned from the stretch. Kafka let you adjust for a few minutes, and all you could think about was your undying love for her. You were full of her, both in your heart and inside your body. She was encompassing all of your senses, and your soul compelled you to ask her to embrace you again. You swallowed heavily, clearing up your ruined throat just to croak out, “M-Mommy… Please kiss me?”

Who was she to deny you, when your voice was so pitchy and you were outstretching your arms to her? She could‘ve just ate you up, but you would’ve passed out again if she tried once more, so she chuckled instead. “Insatiable puppy… how funny you are,” she teased you but answered your pleas, leaning down to lick into your mouth, intertwining both of your tongues as she began circling her hips and grinding into you. You felt your eyes well up with tears at just how electric it was, moving your hips in tandem despite being exhausted. Everything was just a little bit painful, which made your head swim.

When she thrust into you, you whimpered loudly as the tip of her dick punched at your cervix over and over, as if she wanted to breach it and reach all the way into your uterus. You had never experienced the height of pleasure like this, with a severely aching body and a mind fogged over by blood loss that should’ve been fatal. Despite how dizzy you were, a particular sound brought you a small moment of clarity. As Kafka rutted herself inside with such intent, almost as if she could feel you, your mind cleared up just enough to truly let you see her.

She looked far closer to how you felt than what she usually projected; rather than the visage of a beautiful woman with a taste for luxury, you got a feverish display of reckless abandon. Her hairtie seemed to have slipped its loose hold on her burgundy locks, which now attempted to cover her face. This was clearly unsuccessful, as you could still see the strong, pink blush that also colored her neck and bouncing chest. Your roles were reversed, as she teemed with the life she took from you, and you were probably as pale as the treacherous moonlight that changed you for the worse. You could care less at the moment, however, as you relished in how stunning she looked like this. Her lips parted permanently as she gasped and moaned a few beats after you did. She definitely couldn’t feel your wet, pulsating pussy through the strap, so… was she this excited from seeing you fall apart? She had a death grip on your hips, after all, and her claws dug into you to form tiny beads of blood on your skin. Your pleasure was her pleasure, which would only be true if she loved you, wouldn’t it? She loved you. Loved you enough to get lost in you without the promise of any direct contact.

She loved you enough to fulfill your request for you, and to treat you so kindly, to hold you so dearly. Someone you wanted to love you actually did.

Kafka fell apart like this because she loved you.

This new knowledge did you in, and you let out a cry as you came yet again. Your hands trembled where they held onto Kafka’s shoulders, and they gripped her even harder when she kept thrusting her hips into you. You howled from the overwhelming feeling of overstimulation, and though you tried to get your mouth to articulate the word “stop”, all you could formulate were pitiful, ragged sounds. Your dear tormentor exhaled out a laugh, telling you with a crazed gaze, “I just wanna have a bit more fun— ngh— with you, baby… I’m sure you don’t mind, right, puppy?”

You blacked out the exact moment after she said her pet name for you. It was exactly the same sensation of being jerked back to the recesses of your own mind as what you experienced on full moons. It seemed the wolf had enough of Kafka’s twisted games, and it wanted to save this body of yours. Was it the sensory overload or the encroaching cold from the blood loss that triggered it to act? You couldn’t know, the wolf in your head was something you couldn’t comprehend.

… Wait. Did that mean you transformed? Kafka didn’t have any silver on her because she was just hurting you for fun, oh god. Is she okay!? You wondered in this mental space you were trapped in, panic shooting down your spine.

Luckily for you, it seemed the wolf knew more than you thought. It came back and tossed you to the front with its jaws, and soon enough, you were back with Kafka.

Your question was immediately forgotten, and in its place, her wanton, prolonged moan settled itself firmly in your head. You soon realized that you had your mouth steadily sucking on her clitoris, and you looked up to find her fair body peppered with bite marks. You committed to memory the way her eyebrows knit together and her eyes glossed over, and once it seemed like she had ridden her orgasm through, you separated yourself from her pussy carefully. You climbed up on the bed with the little strength you had left in you, and you held her cheeks delicately. “Did I hurt you?” you asked in concern, being met with a drunk giggle in return.

“No worries, Y/n… your wild side just caught me by surprise, is all,” she spoke softly, still catching her breath. You couldn’t help but shiver as you took in how her chest rose and fell, how she seemed to waver. “Thought you’d make me bleed at the very least, but it seems I’ve been deemed a good mate. All I got were some love bites, and… God, puppy, your tongue’s actually pretty long when you’re partially transformed…”

Your face went red with what little blood you still had in you at her last comment, and Kafka laughed as she spread her arms out to you, inviting you to lay on top of her. You almost couldn’t feel your legs, but you mustered up enough strength to crawl up her body and lay your head on her chest. Her heart was thumping like a normal person’s, the exertion and overabundance of blood to pump certainly helping. Only upon focusing on this did you realize that you were shivering, and your dizziness hit you like a truck.

You purred as Kafka ran her fingers through your hair, although the sensation felt distant. “Can you hear me, Y/n?”

You had to take a moment to place where your tongue was, but when you did, you mumbled out a response. “Yeah… I’m still here, I think.”

Her ribcage fell as she sighed. “We may have done too much. Do you think you’ll need a blood transfusion? I’m sure we still have werewolf blood stored in the fridge.”

You felt your lips curl into a pout, both the thought of having someone else’s blood inside you and Kafka drinking blood from anyone other than you thoroughly upsetting your heart. You would have bled out by this point if you were still a normal person… but you can bear it. You can take advantage of being cursed to walk the earth as a beast, if it’ll keep Kafka here with you.

Wait. You still had to ask Kafka about your… observation, or perhaps delusion. Your mind always had been a cruel little thing, and it was hard to believe anyone would like you enough to be in love with you, but it just felt so real. You cuddled up to her and tucked you head under her chin, weakly tugging at the covers to pull them up. “I’ll be okay, werewolves regenerate fast… I-I just need to warm up a little,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around her torso as well as you could. You exhaled shakily, your throat beginning to tie up in knots. “Can you stay with me, Kafka? I-I need to ask you something.”

Your entire body shivered when she pressed you tighter to her chest in response. “That’s alright, baby, I won’t leave unless it's for your own safety,” her voice was soft with understanding, perhaps infusing her words with her spirit whisper to calm you down even faster. It seemed your brain couldn’t pick if it wanted to accept the soothing or keep preparing you to run. You watched her take her contacts off as a quick distraction from your stomach doing somersaults. “What’s your question? Is everything fine?”

“Y-Yes! It was amazing and I enjoyed it tons, you really were great, it’s just…” your voice got quieter after your initial squeak, and though you were feeling like you wanted the earth to swallow you whole, you continued speaking. Of course, you were hiding your pout on Kafka’s skin. “… Did you actually mean it?”

Kafka felt slightly amused by your shaky tone, though the confusion overshadowed that by a small margin. “I need you to be a bit more specific, Y/n, we’ve talked about many things tonight.”

Would you die if your heart exploded, actually? This was so incredibly nervewracking. You thought vampires were also psychic but apparently not. “I mean like when you– when you said you liked me, was that r-real? Not a heat of the moment thing, it wasn’t just dirty talk?”

Kafka stayed quiet for a minute after you clarified your thoughts, and her silence almost killed you, but then she snorted and started giggling. You looked at her with a blank expression, just because you couldn’t process that she fully laughed at your serious question. However, you could never be mad at how beautiful her genuine smile was and how melodious her laughter sounded. “Hahaha, I’m sorry, darling,” she apologized through the last of her chuckling while she reached one of her hands up, petting the base of one of your ears to appease you. It worked extremely well, it made you a bit ashamed. “You’re so silly… I’m very interested in knowing exactly why you can’t fathom that someone could love you, but that’s a conversation for later.” She proceeded to scooch down on the bed until she was eye level with you, this was so she could hold your face in her hands and make you look into her fully undisguised magenta eyes. You had to swallow around the ten knots your throat tied itself into. “I will be completely honest with you, Y/n. You are the first girl who has made me feel this way in centuries, I find you to be adorable and I’m endeared by how loyal and sweet you are,” as she rubbed circles into your cheeks with her thumbs, you felt your eyes welling up, the compliments overwhelming your sensitive heart. “My feelings have been growing more and more as I’ve gotten to know you better, believe it or not. I love you a lot, and I cherish having you around, puppy,” she kissed the salty tears rolling down your face, the last of her lipstick lingering on your face. The entirety of Kafka’s presence made a shaky sob bubble out of your mouth. “Shush, baby, try not to cry too hard…”

“Y-you love me, you actually do,” The words stumbled from your lips clumsily, clad in disbelief along with every emotion you felt. You clung to her like you would fall into the void if you let go, and for a few beats, her confession was all that you could hear inside your head. You didn’t expect to start bawling like this, though you were lucky to be feeling far too much to add embarrassment to the mix. Kafka caressed you with such softness and reverence that the thought of everything being a dream was more believable than reality, but… you could finally register that this was real. Kafka had spelled out her feelings towards you, and they were the full truth. This was the most insane thing that had ever happened to you, becoming a werewolf didn’t come anywhere close.

After crying for a few minutes, you cleared your throat and spoke to her, your voice fragile and raspy. “I love you more than anything else in my life, Kafka… I’m so happy…” You were entranced by how gentle the look in her eyes was, gazing into them as your cheeks heated up again. “W-What do you want us to be?”

She made you fall in love a thousand times over with her reverent, slightly playful expression. “I can be anything you want, Y/n. I can be your owner, your mistress, your girlfriend… Even your wife.”

“M-m-my wife!?” You shrieked in disbelief with your eyes wide as plates, and Kafka kind of regretted leaving you without enough blood to watch you turn bright red all over. “I-Isn’t that a crazy big step, Kafka?”

In response, she chuckled. “I’ve been alive for a few centuries, I think I can handle the commitment of marriage just fine at this point. It’s more so your decision.”

You sputtered for a few moments, absolutely flabbergasted about this sudden development, but then the gears started shifting in your brain for real. Marriage was such a foreign concept when you tried relating it to yourself, as you never saw yourself as someone who could matter in that way to another person. You had it so clear in your head that you would die miserable and alone, and yet here you were. Marriage, marriage… it sounded so impossibly grand. Stepping into it so suddenly would definitely mess with your brain.

Luckily for you, there was something that came before being officially married. Your ears immediately perked up when you remembered this, the gesture melting Kafka’s heart significantly as you grabbed her hands and said, “Can we be fiancees?”

Your fingers were shaking to compensate for your sudden boldness, and your heart did a few somersaults as the red came back to Kafka’s cheeks, her eyes open wide in surprise. She looked stunned for a moment, and it scared you as well to see her like this, but you soon found your worry was unwarranted. Slowly, the warmest smile you’ve ever seen from her spread across her lips, and her loving whisper made you shiver all over. “I’ll make sure to get you the prettiest ring, darling. It’s set.”

Just like that, you melted fully into her for the rest of the night. All you could remember was her all encompassing body heat, her soft touch, how beautiful her voice sounded as it worked your brain pliant. You existed as an extension of her, a spoiled lap dog that she loved thoroughly. The mere concept turned your mind into mush by this point of the night, and considering that everything she did reflected her feelings towards you, it was to be expected that you were enveloped in a haze before falling asleep.

One thing that you clearly remembered, though, was how happy you felt. You couldn’t ask for more from Kafka, and yet… this was only the beginning.

What a strange and wonderful thing.

Someday you’ll believe that this is real. It won’t be easy, but Kafka is a very patient and convincing woman. You’re open to listening as well, which is an effort that shouldn’t go unnoticed.

Just like an adopted stray, you are willing to silence your instincts and embrace love fully, as foreign as it feels, as overwhelming as it may be. You may even find your old self through it, and when you do, you’ll be able to show Kafka.

You hope— no, know— that she’ll love you that way too.

You’re still you, after all.