Molly's Mate

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Molly is kidnapped and caged.
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Molly had ended up staying at the library until closing, though she didn't mean to. She'd become engrossed in a coffee table book featuring pictures of European architecture through the ages and had lost track of time. She'd only come back to the real world after the librarian had pointedly told her the place was closing in ten minutes.

It doesn't matter in any event. Molly would rather be anywhere but home with her domineering mother, even though Mother will be in a rage that she'd stayed out so late. She doesn't even care about Molly, really, she just likes to have her there to fetch and carry and listen while she complains. Molly wishes for the millionth time in her life that her father had taken her when he'd left when she was a baby.

So now Molly walks home through the park. There is a full moon so she can see easily enough, though the wind is fierce and cold. She wraps her oversized red hoodie tight around her small frame and tries to hurry. Even though Molly is twenty, no one ever believes her when she tells them. She is short and slight and has the face of a twelve year old. Life is really not fair.

She doesn't see her attackers until they are right on top of her, and then she only gets a vague impression of several men surrounding her, before a chemical-smelling cloth is put over her nose. The next thing Molly knows, she is waking up underneath a spotlight. She cannot see anything outside the overbright cone of light, and the only thing inside it is her and a circle of concrete floor. She sits up, her head still foggy from the drug, feeling more confusion than fear. Then she hears a growl.

It is a low rumble, like thunder, decidedly not human, and Molly's reaction is curious. Her heart thumps against her ribs, but not entirely in fear. There is a bit of that, but mostly she feels...excitement. Unexpectedly, a few more lights come on overhead, expanding her puddle of visibility, and she jumps and yelps, startled. The growl ceases as if flipped off by a switch. She doesn't think it was, though. Something in her knows that whatever made that sound is still outside the light, watching. Waiting.

Her eyes are drawn to the direction she last heard the sound, held there. She can't look down, away. She doesn't want to. Finally, there are scuffling sounds, and a clacking against the concrete floor as it steps into the light, and Molly's breath freezes in her lungs. No, not human, but not animal either. Molly stands, face it, trembling more from shock than fear.

"You are real," she whispers. "You are a werewolf."

He, and he is definitely male, stands taller than most humans, well over seven feet. His head is entirely canine, a wolf's head, with the triangular ears that stand up, and a muzzle full of sharp, deadly-looking teeth. His eyes, though, there is something in them that is intelligent. Perhaps not human, but more than animal. He watches her with amber eyes as intently as she is watching him.

From his neck to his waist, he is more human, though he is covered in fur that ranges from silvery charcoal on his back to pale grey on his stomach. His shoulders are human, though, and his chest and arms. He has hands, though the fingers are slightly bent and tipped with sharp claws rather than nails. Below the waist, he is a mix. He stands upright, but his legs are sort of canine, with thick, flat thighs that taper to narrow calves and knees that bend forward rather than back. He has feet, though, again with claws that clack against the concrete as he moves. She can also see a tail swing into view every now and again.

The werewolf's cock juts forth from his body, red and unsheathed. It's enormous, heavy, hard. Molly has had a lover, a teacher in high school that would take her into his office and pump into her, sweating and huffing. She'd entered the relationship willingly, but never saw the point in repeating the experience. Still, that man is her only point of comparison and he comes up...short. The sight of the werewolf's erect phallus causes her body to tighten, and a slickness and warmth gather at the apex of her thighs. If she stopped to consider this, it would surprise her. Molly almost never becomes aroused.

They stand there like that, for a breathless eternity, staring at each other, examining each other. The Were breaks the frozen moment first, grabbing her, and he moves so fast Molly hasn't registered the motion until he's on her. He forces her to her hands and knees, and Molly's mind reels. Is he going to mount her, fuck her? She can't imagine it, something that magnificent wanting to have sex with her. No, mate with her. She is plain and small and decidedly not sexy.

The Were doesn't rip off her overalls, though. Holding her down by a clawed hand at the back of her neck, he crouches beside her, rather than behind. She feels that enormous erection brush her ribcage and moans, but he seems to take no notice. Still holding her in place with a grip so strong she could never hope to break it, the Were leans down to her backside. He sniffs her, sniffs her crotch! For some reason, this causes her breath to become short and jerky, causes her womb to throb with need. The Were smells the heightened arousal on her, he must, because he growls again, but this time she could swear it was in masculine pride.

He flips her over, abruptly, spinning her, but stops her head from hitting the floor. She lies on her back, blinking in confusion while her studies her, studies her clothes, from her oversized hoodie, her denim overalls, her white socks and Keds. He pushes the hoodie open, hooks a claw in the wire that loops around the button on the front of the overalls. She hears the button pop out with a metallic snap, but never takes her eyes from the Were's face. He snaps the other clasp open as well.

For a heartbeat, neither of them do anything. It is perhaps shocking that Molly is the one to make the next move. She reaches out tentatively, touches the coarse fur on the outside of the Were's thigh. She hears some masculine voices murmur from the darkness. She turns her head, but she cannot see. There are people out there. Watching them.

The Were grunts impatiently, bringing her attention back to him. He's moved again, is at her feet. He jerks on the legs of her overalls, and they fly down and off, leaving Molly in just her hoodie and t shirt, bra and panties, shoes and socks. The Were removes her shoes and socks as well, not tearing anything, but inspecting the articles of clothing curiously as he does, as if clothing is novel to him. Then he is looming over her, on all fours, crawling up her body. He stops and sticks his snout between her legs again, and again she feels the need rise within her. He licks the bare skin exposed at the top of her plain white cotton panties, below her t shirt, and she whimpers. The Were's eyes meet hers, very deliberately, and that long, long red tongue snakes out and repeats the caress. She can feel his saliva cooling on her belly.

Molly marvels at herself. She's never in her life felt this wild longing, this need coiling in the pit of her stomach. She parts her legs a bit, and the Were can see the wet spot spreading at the crotch of her panties. The voices murmuring in surprise again are drowned out by the Were's growl of appreciation. He grabs her by the wrist, pulls her to a sitting position, pushes the hoodie off her shoulders. Molly herself, hardly knowing this passionate stranger who has taken her place, pulls off her t shirt, but that seems to be the limit of her bravado. Her breasts are large for her frame, covered in a simple, practical bra. The rest of her is slender. The Were grunts again, hooks a claw in the front of her bra, tugs, as if telling her to take it off or he will. Her small hands shaking, Molly reaches behind her and unclasps and shrugs out of the garment. The sound of the men commenting on her heavy breasts, her large dark rose areolas and nipples doesn't even faze her. Her tits are tingling under the Were's gaze.

He growls, and his cock visibly jerks. He hooks the crotch of her panties and snatches them off in another of his inhumanly quick movements. Molly yelps, both because she's startled at his unexpected move and in pleasure at the oh so brief contact of the back of his furred finger and her moistening crotch. The Were stops, sniffs the back of his finger and growls again.

This time, when he picks her up and flips her over, setting her on her hands and knees, there is no doubt in her mind that he is going to mate with her, and she doesn't have long to anticipate the moment. He shoves his enormous dick into her little cunt, and although she is already wet, the sheer difference in the sizes of their bodies causes her to cry out at the shock of it, the stretching. The Were simply doesn't care, though. He wraps his enormous hands around her waist, holding her off the floor just with his arms alone, and the weight of her doesn't even seem to register with him. He starts humping her, slowly at first, but then with more power. Molly looks at him over her shoulder. His eyes are half open, his tongue lolling out as all his attention is directed to his cock, pumping his cock into her. It's almost as if he's using her body to masturbate, and something about that just flat turns Molly on. She feels her pussy responding, opening for his cock, adjusting and lubricating even more. The Were grunts again, his happy grunt, and nips her shoulder in appreciation. Molly's knees are still planted on the floor, though her upper half is supported in the Were's hands. She uses that leverage to writhe her hips, her tiny pussy gripping the creature's huge cock, milking it. It is the Were's turn to yelp, and Molly whimpers in both pain and pleasure, losing the line between. The Were moves one hand, cupping a needy breast, his claws grazing her nipple.

This, it seems, is all that is needed to send Molly into a screaming orgasm. Her little twat clenches down tight, almost too tight, and the Were howls as her contractions bring him off as well. He pumps his thick, ropy seed into her, and just keeps pumping, until she's overflowing and it runs back out of her, over his dick and furry balls to pool on the floor. She doesn't know it, but her womb is actually inflated with semen. She feels the ache in her belly, though.

As the Were is finally drained dry (there must have been a gallon of cum!), he pulls his shrinking phallus out of Molly's cunt and gathers her gently into his arms, licking her throat and chest, her tits and nipples. Molly murmurs happily, stroking the Were's face, learning the texture of his fur and features. She's never felt like this before, all tender and glowing, certainly not for any human man. She thinks this must be what love feels like. The Were takes a nipple into his mouth and begins to suckle, and it feels very warm and close to Molly. Cozy. Somehow, impossibly, this fantastic creature is the home Molly has always yearned for but never had.

As the Were holds her protectively and suckles, and Molly drifts into an exhausted sleep, she hears voices drifting out of the darkness.

"...turned out better than we ever could have hoped. I'm very pleased."

"Yes, the girl took to the breeding process like a bitch in heat. She seemed to love it. If they keep that up, we should have a pup in no time."

"Quite. Well, have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes...Good night."

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LoveKing23LoveKing23almost 6 years ago
More

MORE!!! Love this

chyaraskisschyaraskissalmost 11 years ago
Good Start

Do you plan on writing more?

msjay123msjay123over 13 years ago
Ok now I'm confused!!

Now I need a second chapter with more detail lol. Can't wait!!! Please don't take long!

AnonymousAnonymousover 14 years ago
A whole new genre?

This scary story effectively blurs the lines between erotic horror-fantasy and erotic bestiality! I mean, how does the reader decide what behavior is "wrong" and "right" when a principal character is both man and wolf! I think this is a very creative twist on the old wolfman storyline, and honestly look forward to the movie version of it. No, not "Twilight" - that's vampires and werewolves! And anyway, they have not yet dared to show a transformed creature mating with an untransformed human! Perhaps this is always something "explained away" with the argument that it would be "impossible" or too dangerous for inter-species mating to occur; so MeadowRose I think you are pushing the envelope with this story.

valaerynvalaerynover 14 years ago
almost spooky

and i say that simply because, this is quite literally almost exactly what i was looking for, almost exactly what i was thinking of. very well written too. made my night.

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