Werewolf Moon

Part 1 Winslow Junction

1.

Dusk.

A few birds were finishing their songs as they settled down to roost for the night. A cardinal warbled four miles away, and a jay squawked almost two miles farther on.

He heard them as if they were sitting on a branch of the tree that was just outside the cavern.

The limb of the full moon was edging above the eastern horizon through the trees, like a pastel chalk drawing against a darkening sky. Its blood-red glow was baleful, foreboding. Its cold luminescence crept into the mouth of the cave like rising water.

He could already feel its power tugging at him.

Soon the Change would be upon him.

Derek Lawrence Talbot raised his head. As the moonlight bathed his blue eyes, they changed to a pale, golden-amber hue, and he smiled.

This business trip to the state of Washington was just what the doctor ordered. By day, he wheeled and dealed as the President and CEO of Talbot Enterprises, a successful, wickedly-handsome young man who drove a ruthless bargain.

By night, when the wild beast held sway, he hunted fresh prey; beautiful, innocent girls and young women who fell to his lethal fangs and talons -- and his cock - as wheat fell before a scythe. Fresh pussy, and fresh meat, to sate both of his appetites.

For Derek Talbot was a werewolf.

It was a family curse. His great grandfather Lawrence Talbot was the progenitor, having been bitten by a werewolf in the early 1940's while on a visit to the ancestral hamlet of Llanwelly in Wales. The curse was passed down to Derek -- along with the vast Talbot fortune -- by his father.

But unlike his forbears, Derek did not consider the so-called Curse of the Werewolf to be a burden. Not for him were the self-pity, the torment and the angst of his sires. He reveled in the change, enjoyed the power of the wolf and his heightened senses. The call of the wild sang in his blood.

He was not a "reluctant werewolf."

He enjoyed the hunting, and the killing -- and the feeding. The horror in their eyes when they realized what was about to happen, the way their soft young bodies came apart under his fangs and claws, the taste of their flesh, their blood, their entrails.

"Fuck 'em, fillet 'em, feed on 'em, and forget about 'em," he murmured. "Words to live by."

The moon was inching higher, and he could feel his skin crawl as stubbly, shaggy brown fur began to sprout all over his body. He was growing increasingly irritable; he felt as if his skin was on fire, and he itched all over. Quickly he stripped off his tee shirt, shorts, socks and running shoes and neatly folded them. Then he stashed the clothes in a duffel bag, which he placed in a fissure on a rock ledge.

He would need them in the morning.

The selection of the ritzy Hotel Royale had been inspired. It backed right up to a hiking trail leading into the Winslow Junction State Wilderness Area. The little town of Winslow Junction was about five miles away -- an easy lope for the werewolf. Already his super-acute animal senses told him there was prey nearby.

A human female -- wet and aroused, about three miles away.

She smelled young and fresh.

He scented testosterone, too. His lip curled in a snarl. An interloper! A man -- a boy? It didn't matter. Whichever, he would make short work of him.

He was hungry, and it would get much, much worse when the Change took him. The hyperaccelerated metabolism of the werewolf would demand food.

The thought of eating a young girl's sweet, tender flesh made his mouth water in anticipation.

Suddenly, the snapping and cracking of extending bone and stretching skin reverberated like a pistol shot in the cavern. Derek cried out in pain and went to his knees. His skeletal structure became elastic and malleable as his body shifted and flowed into a new, sinister shape, much bigger and more massive than Derek Talbot the man. His head pounded, and agony seared through his nervous system.

The Change hurt. The Change sucked! This was the only facet of his lupine existence that he didn't like.

But it didn't last long, and it was well worth it to gain the gift -- the power of the werewolf.

Derek Talbot jerked convulsively and cried out as the moon's rays washed over his naked body. He could transform himself at will, at any time, but he was helpless before the sinister glow of the full moon, its insistent tidal pull tugging at and distorting his brain. The primal urge was too strong for any of his kind to ignore at this time.

He felt the familiar twitching of his facial muscles and the lengthening of his teeth as they became long, sharpened fangs. His skin rippled and rolled as his muscles swelled and thickened. The metamorphosis was almost complete; he felt the Human part of his mind being submerged by the beast as coarse, thick, bristly animal fur sprouted over his entire body.

The thing he had now become drew its black lips back over its fangs, threw back its shaggy head and loosed an unearthly, bloodcurdling howl. Silver threads of saliva drooled from its snarling maw as it menacingly glared about its surroundings. Its bestial mind was driven by only one impulse: the urge...no, the need...to hunt down, to kill and devour its Human prey.

The werewolf loped from the cave and raced over the soft ground, running like the wind, silent and merciless.

He would find her, hunt her down, and ravish and kill and eat her.

It would not be long now....

2.

"Oh, God, Bobby -- eat me! Eat my pussy!"

Bobby Martin couldn't believe his luck.

Bethany Jensen, the hottest girl in the junior class, captain of the cheerleading squad, all four feet eleven inches of her, was naked in the back seat of his fire engine red Mustang convertible. It was a typically hot and humid evening in mid August; dusk was gathering as the full moon rose behind the trees. They had parked in a secluded pulloff, an open parking area near the head of a hiking trail.

Bethany curled her toes, and drew her shapely legs back until her knees touched her firm breasts. The delicate scent of her pussy was wonderful, like roses. She had probably douched with something, but he didn't care.

He studied her closely as he teased her, fingering her clit. Bethany was a wet dream come to life, an ethereally beautiful girl, all blondeness and blue eyes and peaches and cream, with a perfect little teenaged body. Nice ass, flat, well-toned belly, and full, rounded breasts that jutted up proudly from her chest, defying gravity. Bethany's tits were the stuff of legend. He loved watching them bounce and jiggle under her sweater as she led cheers at football games.

Now he was enjoying watching them bounce and jiggle in all their naked, pink-tipped glory as she squirmed under him.

Bobby had gone to her eighteenth birthday party last week, and had finally gotten up the nerve to ask her out. He had never dreamed it would lead to this! It was only their fourth date.

He was just an average guy. Good-looking enough, slender, but not movie star handsome. He wasn't a football player. He wasn't even the class brain; he was a slightly above-average student, but nothing to write home about.

Of course, he did have the Mustang, his own eighteenth birthday present last Fall!

As hard as it was to believe, Bethany was lonely. She intimidated guys without meaning to. She was shy -- shy! - and her reticence was mistaken for stuck-up aloofness. Even the football players didn't try to hit on her, figuring a beautiful little girl like Bethany had to have a boyfriend -- probably a college guy.

As it turned out, all Bobby had to do was ask.

He buried his face between her legs and ate her out, sucking and nibbling the wet, pink folds of her cunt with lips, teeth, and tongue, reveling in her clean scent and her salty-sweet taste. She screamed as the curled tip of his tongue found her clitoris, and she bucked and writhed, soaking his upholstery with her juices.

They were a little cramped for space in the back seat of the Mustang. Somehow she contorted her petite form beneath him until his eight-inch penis hovered over the wet opening of her vagina.

She stared at his big, rigid cock, looking suddenly lost now -- and a little scared.

"Hey -- you okay?" he asked.

"I-I want you to make love to me," she whispered. "But......I'm afraid."

"Afraid?" Bobby's tone was incredulous. "Why?"

She gazed down, shamefaced.

"I've never....I've never done it before!"

His eyes widened.

"You are kidding, right?" he asked. "A beautiful girl like you -- you've never....?"

There were tears in her eyes. She shook her head.

"I've never been with a boy -- I mean, not like this."

Bobby Martin was stunned.

She was a virgin!

Beautiful Bethany Jensen, the cream queen of Winslow Junction High, was a virgin!

Who would have thought it? Not only was he going to fuck her, he was going to pop her cherry as well!

"Are you sure you want to?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes....I mean, I think so."

She smiled through her tears.

"I really like you," she whispered. "I want to do it with you. Will it...will it hurt?"

He shook his head.

"Not really. Kind of like a flu shot. It'll sting for a second, but it'll feel so good afterwards that you won't even think about it."

"Then let's do it!"

She lay back on the seat with a sensuous smile then, and spread her legs wide.

Somewhere in the nearby forest, a twig snapped and leaves rustled -- but the young lovers were too wrapped up in themselves to notice.....

Bobby was only too happy to oblige. He entered her slowly. She was wet, and incredibly, pleasurably tight.

He continued to push slowly and gently until he met with resistance.

"Owwwwwwwwouuu! " she cried, tensing up. "Easy -- it hurts!"

"Just for a second, remember?"

Then, without warning, he shoved himself into her to the hilt. Bethany screamed as her hymen tore like wet tissue paper. Bobby began to thrust in earnest, and her sobs quickly became sensuous, throaty moans of pleasure.

"Oh, God -- yes!" she gasped. "Ohhhhhh......it feels so good!"

He came several moments later, and she quickly followed, screaming, whipping her head from side to side as she climaxed.

They collapsed in each others arms and kissed for a long time, their tongues wrestling with each other.

"Ohhhhh," she breathed finally. "I had no idea that could feel so good. I should have done this a long time ago! Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said as he caught his breath.

"I've missed out on so much," she said. "I've been so lonely."

Bobby shook his head in disbelief.

"Bethany, you're the most beautiful girl in Winslow Junction -- Hell, maybe the most beautiful girl in the state of Washington! I can't believe you've never made it before. You could have had any guy you wanted."

Bethany smiled.

"I want you," she whispered. "You've always been so nice to me, even before you got up the courage to ask me out. You weren't afraid of me because I was pretty. You'd think I was going to tear out their throats or something."

They kissed again.

Her dreamy smile became suddenly mischievous.

"Everybody thinks I'm Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes," she said. "I want to do something really nasty to prove them wrong."

"Like what?"

Her grin became lascivious.

"I want you to do me doggy-style!"

Bobby gulped. Could this night get any better?

"Are you sure about that?"

"I'm sure," she said. "It's so dirty!"

Bobby's cock grew even harder and longer as Bethany got on her hands and knees and raised her perfect backside in the air.

'I've created a monster,' he thought. 'Here goes.'

Bethany Jensen's screams of pleasure rang through the forest. He began to fall into a steady, pumping rhythm. She was incredible; he threw back his head as he built to a climax, gently kneading her breasts.

And then Bobby Martin's world exploded in a crimson haze of incredible pain, pain so intense he couldn't even breathe, much less cry out. Razor-sharp, four inch claws dug in deep under his chin and jaw. He ejaculated reflexively, and semen spurted from his cock as he was bodily pulled out of Bethany and lifted from the back seat.

Through the scarlet veil that occluded his vision, he saw a powerful, thewed arm covered with thick brown fur reach down between his legs, long ebony claws gleaming like scalpel blades on the ends of elongated fingers.

The talons sliced up behind his scrotum and lopped off his genitals -- half-erect cock, balls and all - and then slashed upward, gutting him from crotch to chin. He managed only a horrible, wet, gurgling sound as his world went dark.

The last thing he saw was his hot blood and entrails spraying all over Bethany's well-formed rear end and back.

The last thing he felt was the searing agony of long fangs, like twin rows of daggers, biting deep into his neck under his chin, severing his jugular and windpipe and nearly decapitating him...

Bethany was rhythmically thrusting back, getting hotter by the moment, her head whipping from side to side. Guttural, slutty moans of pleasure issued from her throat. The sensation of Bobby pulling out of her barely registered through the orgasmic fog clouding her brain.

An instant later, though, hot liquid rained down on her back and ass. She pounded the seat in frustration.

He had pulled out and was coming all over her! How could he?

But the scalding wetness kept pouring down on her in torrents, and she realized, even as naïve and inexperienced as she was, that no guy could hold that much jism!

Slowly, fearfully, she turned her head back over her shoulder -- and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Bethany Jensen was being showered with blood and entrails, and they were spewing from what was left of the gutted remains of Bobby Martin.

Some thing had him by the neck, long fangs buried in his mangled flesh. It was shaped like a huge, muscular man, nearly seven feet tall, but had the face and shaggy head of...of a wolf!

Then the creature tore out Bobby's throat. The boy's severed head toppled from his shoulders and bounced on the seat next to her. His glassy, dead eyes stared unseeingly at her.

Bethany screamed in sheer terror.

The werewolf casually tossed the dead boy's mutilated corpse over his shoulder, as if he were a used Kleenex. The headless carcass lodged in the crotch of a tree eight feet off the ground.

With a swipe of his foot, the creature kicked Bobby's severed head out across the parking lot.

Bethany continued to scream, squatting on the back seat, rooted in place. Everything was moving in slow motion. The wolfman's huge cock was fully erect and stood up against his rock-ribbed belly. It looked to be as long as his forearm, with the head as big around as a fist. A droplet of pre-cum wept from the tip.

The werewolf grinned at her, drawing black lips back over long, gleaming fangs......

He was on her then, flipping her over on her belly, taking her from behind, shoving eighteen inches of thick, rigid meat into her. He thrust brutally, taking his time with her. Her screams were ragged and terrified.

"GOD, STOP -- YAAAAAHHHHH! PLEASE, NOOOOOO..."

Bethany's pleas were ignored. The beast continued to pound her mercilessly. Powerful paws brutally crushed her firm young breasts as he violated her.

After what seemed like an eternity of endless torture, the werewolf bellowed and flooded her womb with his seed. Bethany lay moaning in agony. She could feel blood and semen seeping from her torn sex.

"Uhhhh...ooouuwww ...oh, God.....hurts........." she sobbed. "P..please...nuh-nuh-no more....ooouuuwwwww..... "

She heard a menacing, vicious snarl and her eyes snapped open wide.

Bethany frantically rolled over on her back and stared up at the monster looming over her. She blanched; her face turned as pale as milk.

She saw her death mirrored in the werewolf's soulless golden eyes.

Bobby's blood dripped from his giant fangs as his snout and lips curled up in a snarl. Lethal talons gleamed in the light of the full moon as he raised a powerful arm high over his head.

She tried to move, to run, but her fear paralyzed her.

"Oh, God -- p-please don't k-kill me! Nooooooooo................."

Suddenly, the werewolf loosed a feral roar. The great paw whipped downward, ripping Bethany's face, breasts and stomach to bloody ribbons. She dropped back, face down and screaming on the seat. Her blood puddled rapidly on the upholstery.

*

Claws dug in deep, laying open her back to the bone and shredding her beautiful, fleshy ass.

And then she shrieked insanely in agony and terror as the werewolf swept her up in a bear hug with one huge arm, snarling ferociously. His claws slashed across her face from left to right, sliced open her perfectly-formed breasts, reducing them to mangled lumps of raw, bleeding meat. He mauled her again and again, carving her smoothly-tanned legs into gory tatters. Exposed muscle throbbed, and here and there white bone glinted where chunks of flesh had been torn away.

Bethany thrashed and kicked frantically, agonized screams ripping from her throat. The werewolf yanked back on her left shoulder; her collarbone and shoulder blade broke with a brittle 'crack.' The beast gutted her with a disemboweling slash, opening her stomach. Her entrails spilled out over her lower abdomen and hung down below her knees.

The werewolf lunged. He buried his fangs in her broken shoulder, and, with a terrible growl, lifted her and shook her like a terrier would a rat. Bethany's teeth rattled as she was savagely whipped from side to side. She spit up blood.

Finally, mercifully, it was over.

There was a flash of white in the moonlight as razor-sharp fangs found her unprotected throat. Bethany's screaming eroded into a pitiful, gurgling wail as powerful jaws clamped down beneath her chin with crushing strength. With a savage toss of his great head, the creature tore out her throat in an explosion of blood and mangled meat.

Her legs stopped kicking and twitched feebly as she succumbed to deep shock. A shudder rippled through her mutilated body.

The bloody maw bit into one of her shredded breasts and ripped it from her chest.

The last sensory impression of Bethany Jensen's young life was a visual one of an unholy monster gulping and swallowing a chunk of flesh that had once been part of her.

Then the blackness of forever seeped in.

But the beast continued to maul his dead prey in a frenzy of blood-lust. Deadly fangs and talons slashed and tore, raking the soft, tender flesh of the mutilated body until it was reduced to an oozing, shapeless mass covered in gory red slime.

Finally, the werewolf stopped. He stood up to his full height in the back seat of the Mustang, in a puddle of blood that was nearly ankle-deep. He raised the young girl's tiny, mangled body over his head with one powerful arm, as if she were a bloodied rag doll. Gruesome splashes of crimson dripped from his jaws and talons as he defiantly bayed at the moon, heralding his successful kill.

The werewolf dragged the pitiful remains from the car and dropped them on top of a large, flat boulder.

Then he settled down to feed

As the moon crawled slowly toward the zenith, the beast began to devour all the soft body parts and steaming, glistening organs. He ate her other breast first. He devoured her buttocks, tore out her loins by the roots, and then gnawed on some of her intestines.

When he finished, he would leave behind only scattered, bloody bones, teeth, and hair. The creature bolted down great pieces of flesh he ripped from Bethany's still-twitching corpse. The hunger was all encompassing; his overdriven metabolism demanded that he feed.

Headlights swept the parking area, and the werewolf snarled, irritated at having his meal interrupted. He faded back into the treeline just beyond the edge of the lot.