Monster in my Basement: Story 02

Story Two:
Stone Cold Love

Start date: 27/12/2022

Finish date: 12/01/2023

Word Count: 3,732

*

Shadows descended over rock and stone of the ruins. The temperature cooled as the heat source faded off in the distance. Now was the time for twilight and all it's creatures to come alive.

The cracking began at the fingers. Easier to start in the smaller, frail sections. A tail swung free, the rock chipping and falling to the floor. Wings and arms burst outwards leaving a crumbling mess around the now free moving statue.

The creature looked out towards the horizon. Sunlight fading as day finally turned into night.

Another night alone.

The breeze coming from behind her brought a sweet scent along for the ride.

He was here! She spun around, eyes locking on the container placed nearby. Another package!

A jump and flap of her wings brought her down on her prey. Whatever the hell that was in her package. Her claws ripped open the lid to see what was in store for her tonight.

...Two containers?

She put the large container, the most important container down on the ground next to her so she could study the other. She raised it above eye level, observing the food item through it's see through container.

She brought it down to her chest and opened it's lid.

Hmm... cake... why?

The lid was securely slammed back on. She grabbed her other container with her foot, stuck he hand back in the container for the note and flew off to the nearest fire pit.

When she lighted down she realised this one was a little low on supplies. It'll get her through tonight's dinner but she'd do well to restock. If not tonight, then soon.

It was nice having a quick meal sometimes. The human often half cooked or fully cooked her morsels, so a little re-heating was all that was needed. While she waited for her meal to heat, she took the note and put it away with the rest.

Why the cake though? Why only sometimes?

Both containers were now empty as the night had continued on. She should have at least gone out for supplies. But the fire was nice. She sat with a container cradled in her bosom. Inhaling any lingering scent he left on it.

Humans were forbidden from coming to her castle, the home of her colony. What was left of it anyway.

For decades she had received gifts from this trespasser. Food, clothing, notes. The notes were a waste, she couldn't read. Each package always near where she roosted. She never roosted in the same spot each night, so each time he came with a package, he searched for her.

She should be grateful. He came in daylight. He came at her most vulnerable and all he did was leave gifts, most of the time.

She gripped the container tighter. When was the last time she was held this tight? Was she ever? Has she been alone so long she's forgotten the feeling of being held?

She got hot. Not from the fire. From rage. She had enough of silence. She rose from her crouched position, spread out her wings and shrieked. Louder than she ever had for many years. Tonight she would not remain in solitude. Tonight she would let herself be known.

She doused the fire, flew back up to her roosting spot to shove the empty containers back in the package and flew off towards the house. She had never been there, there was no reason to be there. But she knew the way.

When it was within sight there were no flicker of lights. No sign of activity. Desolate.

She landed herself on a thick branch. It gave her direct view of what she assumed was the entrance. There was a door, at least.

She shrieked as to announce herself and waited for a response. Humans were day creatures. He may be asleep, he may need time.

She shrieked again. There was a commotion inside. He was awake now. She waited crouched on the branch.

A light appeared by the doorway. It was strange to her. No flame but nevertheless it produced light. A figure came through the door with another light that shone directly in her eyes. She covered her eyes with her wing and as she did she heard the scream of a man and fumbling. She saw through her wing that the light was no longer on her.

She opened her wing again and threw the package towards the man. It got as far as the steps of the house, it's lid burst from it's bounds.

Hearing the tumbling of something being thrown the human had a moment to collect himself. A little embarrassed for being so scared when he didn't even understand what he saw that he knocked himself into the door frame and fell to the ground, letting go of his torch. He lunged back for his torch and pointed it at the stairs leading up to the porch.

Wait a minute. He thought. That's the esky I left with... His torch followed where the esky was thrown from, up the tree until it found, ...the statue?

Before he could get a good look, the creature spread it's massive bat-like wings and sprung forward, landing on the railing on the porch. He didn't point his torch at it, he saw it well enough from the porch light.

It leered down at him with green demon eyes. It's pupils were slits and it hissed, revealing sharp top and bottom canines. A clawed hand wrapped around the support beam and clawed toes gripped onto the railing.

"Do you leave the gifts?" It said. His stare changed from one of fear to confusion.

"Y-yes?" It's face softened. No more teeth.

A leg stepped down from the rail. Compared to a human, she looked to be on her tip toes. Except humans didn't have clawed feet similar to a dog or a cat. Nor did a cat or dog have dew claws like thumbs! As she stepped away from the rail a tail dragged behind her. Her eyes squinted as she looked towards the light.

She raised a hand with a tentative shake. She got brave and did a quick few taps on the light's covering. It was as if she'd never seen a light before.

Satisfied with her investigation, she turned back to the man on the ground. He looked her up and down. She was exactly the statue he had been fawning over his whole life. He wasn't expecting her hair to be as red as it was, though. Like fire. And her skin, not white like Caucasian white. White, or more so grey, like cement and stone. But more vibrant than when she was stone.

So it was apparent that all the years he had fed and clothed her, he wasn't expecting her to actually be alive. She looked down at him, finally putting a face to the actions. He was an older human. How old, she could not tell. Humans were strange and never lived long. His chest rose and fell with haste. It was a little fun to be looked upon with fear.

She gestured her hand towards the esky. "Why the cake?"

He looked at the esky. "It's m-... my birthday." He looked back into her eyes and saw her pupils dilate. It made her look softer, kinder. She walked through the door and entered his house.

His head turned side to side in disbelief. She just walked in. He got up and opened the door about to walk through, then decided to grab the esky and bring it in. He dumped the esky by the door and searched for where she went. Not far it seemed. She was looking curiously at the T.V.

She tilted her head this way and that. Stretched out her wings and brought them back in again.

"Sorry, I don't quite understand the purpose of this, black mirror. It doesn't seem very good. You're reflection has almost no detail."

"Oh, um..." He shut the door and grabbed the remote on the low table. "It's not a mirror, it's." He turned it on.

The T.V. turned on to some ads. She took a step back, then leant forward with a big grin forming.

"You humans still use magic?" She looked at him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Teeth and all. She never smiled when she was a statue. Always a blank look on her face. Her eyes dilated even further. Very much like a cat.

"Not quite." He turned the T.V. off and set the remote back on the table. "What are... How... You're alive."

"As are you."

"But aren't you... not meant to be?"

"It's night time."

"...So you're a gargoyle?"

"I'm a grotesque!" She was stern and proud as she said this. "And what of you, trespasser? What part of "forbidden" do you not understand? Don't think because you left gifts it makes it alright." She collapsed herself on the lounge against the wall.

"No, I just... You moved. You were never in the same place. Your clothes... they were just falling apart." He took a seat in the arm chair opposite her.

She stared as if she were studying him. Sizing him up. Now he didn't consider himself a complete weakling but she had much more defined muscles than he did. If she wanted to physically over power him, he figured she could.

As they had their brief moments of silent staring at each other, he couldn't help but notice her squeeze her thighs together. He glanced away, back up to her face and noticed her eyes focused, not on his face but lower.

"D-do you have a name?"

"Do you?"

"Rupert, or Rue... I wrote it in my letters."

"Well, they are of no use to me as I can't read."

"Oh..."

She sat up, mirroring Rue's pose. Elbows resting on knees, leaning forwards.

"My name is Fyra."

She sat herself upright and as she did she pulled her hands back towards her. Her fingers trailed down her bare inner thighs and rested in her lap. "My father named me so, for he said my hair brought shame to the fires that burn in Hell."

There was something about the way she moved that made it difficult to focus on her words.

"What a doting father."

"He is. And you? Do you have a mate? Are you a father?"

Could he not catch a fucking break?! Honestly, he's been getting enough flak from his family about the divorce. And his dad was always going on and on about making sure to have kids before he got too old to raise them. Now he had to divulge it all to the gargoyle, I mean, the grotesque?

Rue sat back in his chair with a sigh. "No. To all of it."

He turned away looking no where. Just away. To silently stew in his annoyance of his relationship failure.

"Good." Fyra said.

He returned to look at her and found a smirk across her face. She rose from the lounge, there was something in her posture that made her seem formidable.

"I have come here tonight because I want something," She fluttered her wings out, increasing how much space she was taking up in the room. "and you will give it to me."

The wind caused by the flap of her wings was unexpected. Fyra was on top of Rue before he realised. Her feet straddled the arm rests. Her long dew claws perfect for helping stability. She leaned in and took her opportunity to lick his ear. Savouring the taste. Rue's heart raced.

His scent was a lot more pleasant from the source than as remnants on the gifts. Fyra cupped his head with one hand and let her body compress on his. Her tail lifted up the front of her loincloth so the only thing between them was the fabric of his own clothes. He knew she didn't have underwear, so he got hard very quickly.

She began lovingly rocking on top of him. With the sway of her hips pressing deeper, she felt his warm throbbing cock beneath her. Good, at least that seemed to work. He was no father but that's okay since he's human, right? Maybe not being a father isn't a sign of weakness?

Rue couldn't help himself but to touch. Both hands glided up her thighs, sliding under the back material of her loincloth. Earlier today she was a stone cold statue. Now she was warm, squishy. His hands enjoyed massaging her arse, complimenting her rocking motion. Beckoning her to continue.

He was touching her, finally! No longer was the clothes he made for her going to be the only embrace she'd get.

Fyra drew her head back to look at him. He stared at her, mouth a gaped, chest rising and falling. His cock feeling thicker with each rock. Fyra closed her eyes and kissed him. She slipped her tongue between his lips, tasting as much of him as she could. Rue's hands pushed her hips down onto him as if he were thrusting himself inside. Fyra kept pressure on his mouth. Rue kept pressure on her clit.

The two worked in tandem trying to make themselves and each other feel good. Their minds blank to everything else but what they were feeling... Until Rue's mind hit him with the realisation.

Oh shit, I've wanked in front of her!

Rue then remembered times where he went up to the castle. The first time it happened it was an accident. He was just looking at her. Looking at how beautiful she was. He got hard. He was a teenager! No one was around. He wasn't even supposed to be there. He didn't do it every time he went. He never left a mess... After the first time. Does it make it okay that she's alive and has her tongue down his throat? Does it make it worse?

Fyra pulled a tuft of his hair, pulling his head back.

"How dare you tease me all these years!" Her mouth hung open, showing off her fangs.

"What?"

"I smelt it! The smell lingers!"

Oh shit, she knew!

"You could have left some! You could have left it on me, on my hand, so I could use it later. So I could have woken up with it!"

He stared blankly at her trying to comprehend what she just said.

"The gifts were annoying to begin with because you were trespassing."

Her hand went under his shirt, grasping at his chest.

"But then you started pleasing yourself. I've been so irate having to make myself cum with only the smell to go on! You may as well have stayed past sunset if you were already going that far."

Her tail slithered under the waist band of his pyjama bottoms and underwear. It went down and curled around his balls. Squeezing them and fondling them in just the right way. Rue closed his eyes and moaned.

Fyra felt the tremble in his chest and continued humping. His cock was in the perfect spot for rubbing her clit.

So if it was okay he was wanking to her, then he wanted more. If she was touching him, he wanted to touch her.

Rue's fingers advanced between her legs. She was so wet his finger slipped straight in. Fyra gasped when it happened. He massaged her walls and brought in another finger. They slid in and out of her and he was still able to keep pressure on her clit.

His cock was throbbing. Her tail was like another hand. It wrapped around his balls and up his shaft pumping up and down. Leaking more pre-cum out of him.

It's grip released. Fyra kissed him again with force. Her tail came out of his pants and tugged on the waist band.

"I want these off."

Rue was a good boy and complied. His pants were pulled down to the knees. His cock sprang up, no longer being restricted. Fyra lay her soaked pussy on him. Her folds wrapped around his shaft, bringing him in. She rolled her hips making his cock slick and ready. She paused over the tip for a moment, then slipped him inside.

Fyra sank deep into Rue. Her hands gripped the back rest of the armchair. Her back arched and she let her wings fall as she relaxed with the bliss of finally having a cock inside her after many decades without.

Oh fuck, Rue missed sex. Since the divorce it was easier when there was no one to have sex with. While they were falling apart and having issues, they both just didn't want to.

Rue was entranced by the jiggle of her breasts under her shirt, it was more of a crop top than shirt. He ran his fingers up her body and held her tits. Squeezing and pinching her nipples. He raised the material up and picked a nipple to suckle.

Fyra's tail came back to play, wrapping around his balls and sliding up, rubbing her clit with the juices from what it picked up along the way.

There was a pressure building from within Rue. Everything was just too intense. The fact that Fyra was alive and fucking him, her tits, her tail!

When he pulled away from her tits, Fyra knew something was different in the way he was breathing. He was shaky.

Her tail gripped tighter and pumped harder, she bounced on his dick with more force. She joined in with his moans because she got off knowing how much he was enjoying her. She embraced him tightly and licked his ear once more.

He couldn't even think once her tongue touched his ear. His hands pushed her hips down so he could thrust deep inside. He moaned even louder as he came. The pressure releasing. Filling her up and ending his dry season.

Fyra's head tipped back and she sighed at the ceiling.

Yes, this was what I wanted.

She nestled his head on her chest and ran her fingers through his hair. What a good boy he was. She sat still with him inside and waited patiently for him to move when he was ready.

Rue could almost fall straight back to sleep with how comfortable he was; and how exhausted. She was really there, in the castle ruins all this time, alive and he never realised. If he did fall asleep, he would surely have thought this a dream.

Another thought perked him right up.

"I'm sorry," Rue began, still gasping for breath. "I didn't pull out."

"I didn't want you to." Fyra's smirk seemed almost sinister as she lifted herself off his dick and off the armchair.

"...What are the chances of you getting pregnant?"

Fyra's laughter had a twinge of mocking. "I'm not even in heat, even if I were, you're not getting me pregnant with just one load. Grotesques need large quantities of sperm to make a babe. When we want children there's usually at least three males to one female. At least."

"...How do you tell who the father is?"

"Fight. When the babe is born the males who finished in the mother fight to claim it as theirs. They may not share the same blood but that doesn't matter when they've proven they are the strongest and most able to protect the babe and make sure they thrive. If you ever question the strength of a male, you need only look at the size of his hoard. A childless male is a sign of weakness."

Brutal. How weak did she think he was then since he had no children?

Rue grabbed some tissues on the coffee table for clean up and offered some to Fyra.

"So, do grotesques not have relationships?"

Fyra took the tissue. "We do, but if you can't fight for your claim, the child will not be yours."

While wiping over her clit Fyra let out a soft gasp.

"Sometimes friends will take the same female, so if any others come by they can fight them off together and eventually ensure one child each with the same female. That's what happened to my father. But he was stronger. He killed all four of them on his own for me."

Rue's hand stopped mid reach getting another tissue.

"Did you say he killed the others?"

She nodded. "If the male can kill his competition the next time the mother is ready for a child he gets automatic claim. It's only allowed once. If a male kills all his competition for all his children there would be not be enough males to make more."

After getting himself clean, Rue pulled his pants back up to cover himself.

"So, the male has to always be prepared to fight for claim of a child every time he has sex?"

"If you're only having sex with wanting mothers, yes. If the female only has one partner at a time she won't get pregnant. That's why we're usually in colonies. We're fertile roughly every two months but we need more than one male's sperm for a child. So even if you were a grotesque we would not be able to have a child on our own. "

"If there was enough sperm, could a human and a grotesque make a baby?"

"No!" Fyra's lip curled and spoke with growling undertones. "It's not possible and it's foolish to even try. There's no telling which half the child will take after most. If the mother is grotesque and the child more human, the child dies while we turn to stone. If the mother is human, the child is more grotesque then it turns to stone inside her. Our blood is not made to mix." ...It's not worth the heartache.

"Anyway," Fyra did a large stretch, knocking bits and bobs off her surroundings. "I have things to do and only a few hours before sunrise to do it in."