The Captor

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Werewolf goes into a bar to seduce a woman.
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Let me tell you about a little dream I had.

I am working at a nightclub, covering for a friend so she won’t lose her job while she is out of town. They have uniforms, that are, as always in these kind of places, trashy. Short, black skirt, and a tight white blouse, I have chosen tall black boots to wear, in place of the usual high heels.

I love leather, I love the smell of leather the feel of leather and the look of leather, and he comes in wearing... You guessed it, leather. Dark brown leather pants, and a white, medieval, long sleeved shirt, with a matching brown, leather vest. He is very tall, and has at least four days of hair growth on his face. He has on heavy black boots, (definitely steel-toed) and you get the sense of the motorcycle ticking, as it cools in the parking lot. He has long wavy black hair just above his shoulders, and intense green eyes. I don't see him come in, but I FEEL him come in. I keep looking around, and do not see him, I don't know him, but I know someone is there looking for me.

He steels along the edge of the room, and just sits at a table with his back to the wall. Watching.

The wave of leather hits my nose, and I stop, I turn towards the scent, and there he is, his face is in a shadow, the only part of it you can see is his jaw, and he is smiling. Bright white in the blue light of the bar, his teeth gleam at me, as if he knew I would find him.

His arms are relaxed, but you can see the power in them, the muscle tone is clear in the billows of his shirt. His vest is stretching to contain the massive chest; it is less strained at his waist, just before it ends. I just stand there for a minute, a full minute, and drink him in. He is beautiful. I realize I must look like an idiot, and I glance at the table in front of him, he has no drink, I walk towards him, praying my knees will not fail me. I ask him what he would like; he stops smiling and says, "I came for you." It is my turn to smile, and I rephrase, asking him if he would like a drink. As the bar is a place with many come-ons, and this must be another.

Isn't it?

He says, "No, thank you, I just came to watch." I smile again, and walk away, I glance back at him, and that is exactly what he is doing, watching… me. All night, all of the waitresses found their way to him, and he turned them all away, telling them he was waiting for me. He knew my name. As the night went on, I stopped back by him to see is he 'needed' anything, I was all he needed he told me.

I was tortured all night by him, and I finally decided that I must KNOW him, from somewhere, and he just looked so radically different now, that my brain was not making the connection.

Every time I passed him, I was more and more certain that I DIDN'T know him, and the possible reasons for him being there to see me, were flying through my head, like a boomerang through the bush.

I came up with zero.

The bar closed, and I glanced at the place he had made his den for the evening, and he was gone. I took a deep breath .........

Was I relieved?

No, it was disappointment.

Oh well, at least I got to visually feast on him for a while, and he would be the source of much unaccompanied, fantasy later.

One of the bouncers offers to walk me out, I thank him, and we start the trek to the end of the parking lot. I hear it, and then I smell the engine of the motorcycle as it revs a few times. We glance over, and there he is, waiting, as he has done all night. I tell the big guy that I am ok, and he leaves me with the large man in the dark glasses.

What the heck am I doing?

Scolding myself, for letting the bouncer go, he is then right in front of me, he lifts his glasses and tells me that it was good to let him go, and that I will be fine.

He tells me that I am 'following my soul.'

I cock my head at him, because I did not ask that out loud.

Then he smiles at me, waiting for me to make sense out of what is happening, His smile dissolves my curiosity, he offers me a hand and I slide on behind him. I immediately embrace him, and the muscles I detected earlier, are much more evident now. I shudder, at the thought of his enormous form crushing me, and I hear a small laugh come from his chest, knowing he 'heard me' I blush, glad that, for the moment, he is turned away from me.

He passed me a black helmet, and I protested, he said, " It is yours, wear it if you want."

On the back, near the neckline, ‘Wendy’ had been airbrushed, in fiery orange.

It was a warm fall evening, but I was glad I opted for the boots, as they covered my calves. The skirt didn’t cover much to begin with, so on the back of the bike my thighs were almost totally exposed. We cruised through town, and at every stoplight he would reach back and tracing the line of muscle, glide his gloved fingers over my thigh, sending shivers through my body. It got to the point that I cursed green lights, and he would laugh when he felt my frustration. After approximately an hour, we arrived at our destination. Which was well out of the city lights, and much more silent and secluded. For the second time that night, I wondered if I had made a grave error in accompanying him. He sensed my reservation, removed my helmet, and took my hands in his. He was so WARM. He reassured me with his electric smile, and I followed him to the end of the walk. I started to look around; the trees were so OLD here, and as we came closer to them, I realized how magnanimous they were. I realized I must be in or near the redwoods, in California. The thoughts of how I actually got there never came to mind. I have always loved our visits there, and for them to be incorporated in the dream was not a shock, but the thoughts of how or why, are not addressed.

The wonderful smell of the foliage fades into my nose, and sends my senses on a nostalgia tour. I smile, and glance up at him, and he is taking the trip with me. Thinking of him closes the door on the memory and he presses me into a tree. His legs are opposite mine leaving me with his knee pressed against my inner thighs. His body is very close to mine, and I can feel the rawness of his desire for me; however, it does not materialize in roughness, but just in the primal scent he carries. His hands smooth lightly over my hair, stopping briefly at my neck and shoulders. He massages my shoulders and slowly moves down my arms; he tilts my head to one side and kisses my neck tenderly and serenely, making me quiver. Feeling as if I have been rooted with the tree, I cannot move, and I give into the solidness of my yearning. I relax against the unyielding wood, and I let my hands fall to my sides.

I feel relaxed, and then the uncontrollable desire to touch him comes to me. I slip my hands up his extensive legs and stop at his warm thighs. I squeezed them with all the strength I can gather. He groans, and the first indications of his beastly form begin. I do not notice until later that his hair and teeth have lengthened. His mouth is near my ear, and his voice is hoarse and shaky. His hands are large and strong; I feel his strength once again as he pulls my body closer to his. His arm fully encircling my waist, he bends and lifts me into his arms. I feel so helpless, and yet so safe. I close my eyes and feel his muscles moving as he takes me further down the path. His breathing is even and deep, and my excitement grows with each step.

After a few minutes, he stops. I open my eyes and see a spectacular beast holding me in his arms. He looks down at me, and the same piercing green eyes are still there, and the growth on his face has certainly gotten longer. I begin to feel fear, and then his smile reappears, it has deepened, but it is still the smile of a lover. My fear recedes into the darkness behind us.

Before us is a long ridge of trees, each of them stretching towards the now full and brilliant moon. It is a brilliant orange, and he places me on the warm, grassy, earth near the ridge. There are no drastic changes to his body except to his arms and chest they have become even more massive. He stands and removes his shirt as he returns to me; I can see and feel his passion, I am consumed by it, and I yield to it. He pushes his mouth to my neck, and I arch my back to meet his body with mine. My breathing quickens and I feel his hands under my skirt, pushing it up and my panties down. His claws squeezing my ass make me gasp, and I reach down to liberate my creature’s body from the remnants of his pants. His cock is straining against the fabric, and stands at attention after being freed from his restrictions.

I stroke his massive cock, as my monster tears my shirt from my body. My tits are large and I can see him beginning to drool as he takes my nipples, one at a time, into his mouth. His teeth graze my nipple and through my clenched teeth, I swiftly suck in the night air. I grip his cock until he moans and pushes his legs between mine. He tells me in a hoarse voice that this is not what he had in mind.

I just smile, and tell him that it IS what I had in mind.

A momentary look of confusion crosses his face, and I thrust my body towards his, rolling him onto his back and mount his stiff cock, before he even has a chance to change his expression. As I ride his glorious cock to fulfillment, my own face and body begin to transform. I feel my tresses of hair getting longer, and my teeth getting sharper. His cock is pulsating and I know he isn’t going to last a great deal longer. So, as I lift my chin… a long rumble starting at my belly and swelling with intensity as it rises in my throat, I howl long and thunderous at the moon. He cums deep within me, and joins my salute in baying to our captor: The moon.

The moon holds us in its gaze as it has for the last hundred years, never letting us rest from the hunger and obsession that we have, and yet, finally, letting us find each another.

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