The Wolven Manor Ch. 02

The monster swung its manly hips with animalistic fervour, and at the same time, with so much raw power that each slam from above shook the pliable form of its mate and made his girly bottom ripple and wobble in the most alluring fashion. The gentleman was certainly enjoying his ravishment, for he made no attempt to escape from this humiliation. Daniel was excited, and the biggest evidence of it was swinging between his creamy thighs, moisty with the proof of his arousal. He was hard, even though he knew faultlessly well that his manhood was but an unnecessary rudiment for the diabolical fiend. He would not use his member in the way nature had intended for it to be used. Instead of having it inside a woman who could bear him offspring, the young man would leave it unattended, and let an ungodly creature use his filthy hole, which was never meant to be used in this way, for its own depraved pleasures. Sophie had never even imagined that one's arse could substitute for a cunt, and this lewd sight was opening her mind to new, unimaginable vistas of lechery, though she was not sure whether she appreciated or detested the lesson.

The maid watched in awe as they got lost in a depraved frenzy of carnal mating. The two of them were no different from a pair of ordinary dogs, where Charles and Eleanor Gladstone's only male heir was reduced to the role of a receptive bitch, willingly and submissively offering himself to the beast. She felt disgust at the sight of the man she liked being taken in this manner, as well as guilt from witnessing such an act, and also found herself helpless to look away, even though she knew that she should. She didn't, though. There was something strangely entrancing about the way their bodies moved together in perfect unity with one another. When the wolf thrust into Daniel's helpless body, the young man would instinctively push back, and when the beast pulled back, he would push forward, only to meet the creature's next thrust with the same passion as the last. They looked so natural doing this, as though they had done it many times. Daniel didn't seem to mind the beast's giant size. He was becoming an animal with nothing but instinct to guide him, and the way he moaned and groaned struck something primal within the lass, for Sophie felt warmth beginning to spread through her loins.

The hellhound's hips were gyrating with increasing speed, stirring a flurry of emotions inside her, and the maid suddenly found herself lost in the moment. Begging the Lord for forgiveness in the same manner as she begged Anabelle on that same night, she reached down and slid a hand into her cotton knickers. Her fingers discovered the wetness that had formed there without her even noticing, and thus she pushed her middle digit into the tender, silky folds, nearly sending a sharp gasp of pleasure through her clenched lips. As she kept on watching, Sophie found another finger happily joining the first to fill more of the emptiness she felt inside. There was a chorus of howls dangerously close to the mansion, but she was so far gone by that point she could not tell if they were real or just her imagination. The wolf stepped up its pace, and so did the girl. The faster the monstrous wolf swung its hips and ravaged Daniel from behind, the louder the gentleman cried with ecstatic delight, and the faster Sophie pumped her fingers in and out of her slit, and as far as she was concerned at that moment, there was nothing wrong with what she was doing.

The Gladstone buried his face in the soft fibres of the woolen rug to hide his blushing cheeks and stifle his yelps of pleasure, but with no success, because his servant could overhear his every last squeal and grunt from the other side of the oaken door. She was in the best spot imaginable to see the scarlet rod plunging from above into her young passion's arsehole, with only the sizable lump of flesh at the base of the wolf's veiny member not quite going past the threshold of the thoroughly abused entrance. The raw smell of sex permeated the air, which was no longer fresh, and mixed with the beast's own sweet scent. The pounding, slamming, slapping, and lustful howling gradually gave way to quick, shallow pistoning, and uneven, sharp gasps, before culminating in a long grunt coming from between Daniel's parted lips. At the same time that the hellish spawn stopped thrusting and bit the exposed neck in the act of asserting dominance, the noble elegantly lifted his stiffening feet from the rug, and, with a visible tensing of his scrotum, released a small, but rich, gush of semen onto the foreign carpeting.

Seeing that Daniel had reached his peak, Sophie could no longer hold back her own orgasm. Nearly letting go of the hem of her nighty, which she had been holding in her teeth to both prevent herself from making loud noises and keep it out of the way, she felt an elusive tingling at the bottom of her belly. This sensation rapidly spread through her entire body. Her thighs clasped together, trapping her middle and ring fingers inside her eager sex. In fact, she would not be able to take them out if she tried, for her velvety folds were holding onto the intruding digits with a grip so strong one could believe that they did not want to let go, yearning to stay full, even if with just her way too short and thin fingers. Though she was scared of losing control and did not want to, and tried to resist, she gave in to the joy that was threatening to inadvertently reveal to Daniel that the maid had been watching him and the demonic beast this entire time. Her cheeks grew rosy while her blue eyes became glassy and vacant. The sense of reason was quickly abandoning the poor girl, and she could do nothing anymore to resist the impending release. Driven by nothing but basic instincts, she opened her mouth, letting the fabric slip and drop onto her hand that was manically working below. And just like that, the dam broke, sweeping away whatever was left of her pure judgement. For an instant, the handmaiden forgot everything, and collapsed on the wooden planks with a barely suppressed mewl of ecstasy. Her youthful body was flailing and convulsing, her hips rode her fingers, grinding against her own hand, while her slim legs shuddered from the overwhelming sensation that was coursing through them. A gush of warm womanly nectar burst forth, soaking into her knickers and running down her thighs. Every inch of the girl's skin was covered either in her glistening sweat or the sticky remnants of her arousal that she had worked up while watching a beautifully handsome young man being dominated and roughly taken from behind, like an animal in heat, by a creature of the night. This was the first time in her life that she had committed the sin of lust on her own accord. And it was also the first time she had enjoyed it.

The warmth from her belly started to fade, and the maid realised that she was lying on the floor. She must have fainted after experiencing a sweltering feeling to which she was not accustomed. While with the two fingers still inside, the reality dawned on her, and hit like a sledgehammer. She remembered about Daniel and the wolf. The door leading to the aristocrat's chamber was still open, and the moonlight was seeping into the dark hallway. With her legs weak and breath unsteady, the servant girl slowly and clumsily got up to her feet, holding herself up against the stone wall to not fall down again, and took a small step towards the oaken frame, which was more than enough to cast a glance inside once more.

Sophie was not asleep or being delusional, for when she peered past the doorway again, instead of seeing Daniel peacefully sleeping in his bed, like he should have, the maiden saw two silhouettes. The bigger one was sitting on the floor, facing the balcony, while the smaller was sensually moving up and down in its lap. She did not need her eyes to regain sharpness to tell who those distant figures were. She recognised the white fur and bulging muscles of the seated monster, as well as the golden locks bouncing over the narrow shoulders in the rhythm of the steady thrusting from below the gentleman at the top. Each time the scarlet shaft plunged deeper into the noble's arse and the bulbous knot met the soft skin of his girly rear, a loud slapping sound, accompanied by a quiet moan of perverse delight, filled the otherwise silent air. The wolf had its clawed hands grasping at the supple flesh of the young man's hips, pulling him back against each thrust, whilst the latter held the former's thick furred neck in a tender, almost loving, embrace and sought the creature's lolling tongue with his lips, longing to suckle on it in a clumsy parody of a lover's kiss. They looked into each other's eyes, glowing yellow into dark green and back, as is they were not a man and a nightmarish terror pleasuring one another without a hint of shame, but a loving couple sharing a moment of special intimacy.

"You are... c-close, aren't you, Snow?" the noble panted, not breaking the eye contact, his voice taking on a slightly higher pitch than usual. "Your dick is... throbbing so much inside me, I can feel it..! Come on! K-Knot me..! You know I can... t-take it..!"

Baring its teeth in a silent snarl and digging its claws deeper into Daniel's smooth skin, the wolf answered the plea by hastening its pace, the muscles, which were clearly visible beneath the short fur, tensing from the strain of the pounding, as it aimed to force the knot past the nobleman's battered entrance, stretching it further as the fleshy bulb pressed for entry. The young man did not protest, however; quite the opposite, he welcomed the predator's invasion by pushing his fair body back against the oncoming thrusts, swinging his hips in a circular motion to aid the penetration. Sophie could not explain why she was still standing by the door and watching her master's and mistress's son sinking ever so deeper into the ungodly, downright sinful relationship with the beast, but the scene was oddly beguiling to her. It was perverted, yet beautiful at the same time, and she had to muster all her resolve to avoid falling into the same trap she had already succumbed to earlier. The lass kept her hands tight around the cross hanging from her neck and painfully ignored the itch between her unsteady legs, which had returned with a vengeance.

No sooner had these thoughts crossed her mind when the beast's rhythm faltered. Not without difficulty, but the lump of red flesh seemed to have finally slipped past the tight ring, and the man's nastily scratched bottom slammed against the wolf's groin with a wet thud. Once the realisation struck, Daniel's expression changed into that of blissful contentment. Judging by the way the hellish creature shuddered slightly and held its mate in place, this was the moment it reached its own release, too.

"So much... so warm..." the young man mumbled while rubbing his belly with one hand, and kneading the beast's quickly deflating hirsute ballsack beneath him with the other.

The two of them stayed locked in place for a while, letting the moment sink in and basking in the afterglow. Or maybe they were just too exhausted to move, Sophie figured. The onlooker had to admit that this was surely a new side to the meek gentleman she had been serving for the past few years, and it looked rather fetching on him. It was true, what Anabelle had said that morning. The maid did like the Gladstone. Would seeing him like this, tired and sweaty on top of a monster, make her heart waver? After all, Daniel did let this huge, unnatural canine take his body, and maybe his soul, too, as by the looks of it, he enjoyed every moment of being a pliant, submissive girl for a big bad wolf from hell itself. She could never give him what he needed, neither in high society nor in bed. Not only was she born a peasant girl, but she was also just that, a girl. A frail being who could never satisfy him in the way he desired. To be taken by someone strong, manly, and wild. By someone she would never be. To be manhandled, to be tame, to submit. The maiden would never be able to provide that for him. But still, with all this having happened before her eyes, the handmaiden could not persuade herself to stop liking, let alone hate, Daniel. It was his sweet nature that won her heart, and this perverse side of him, though making her feelings more complicated than ever, did not seem to make her like him any less. At least, that was what she believed at the moment.

Feeling calm and exhausted, Daniel slumped into his furry lover's hairy chest, the moon enveloping them both in a cold blue light. His belly with a protruding navel looked slightly swollen now. Since the beast's member was still embedded inside him and prevented even a single drop of wolfish seed from leaking out, the only explanation was that the creature's potent, plentiful essence was filling his insides. The wolf, for his part, rested its snout in the crook of the man's neck, gently lapping at a bleeding bite mark left sometime in the place that was uncovered by the noble's loose nightshirt. Suddenly remembering about her presence, the beast turned its head and looked straight at Sophie, its eyes glinting brightly in the dark. A tremor ran down her back. It may have seen the aristocrat as a mate, but not her, and it was telling her so nonverbally. Like a dog guarding its bone, the wolf stared at her threateningly, daring her to take away what it had rightfully claimed.

There was no doubt that she was not welcome there, and Sophie did what she thought was the best thing to do. She cautiously withdrew from the door, leaving the man and the beast to themselves, while praying for Daniel to see the morning light. Fumbling about in complete darkness, the maid groped her way back to the grand staircase and descended onto the ground floor, her mind blank and heart devoid of emotion. She could have gone to her room, but instead, she detoured, and went in the opposite direction. Wolfish cries outside wailed like they usually did, but now the lass knew what creatures were responsible for the sleepless nights at the manor. They were not ordinary animals attracted by the smell of food. Those were the cries of Satan's minions who took the shape of manlike wolves and came to tempt virtuous men into committing sinful deeds. Did Anabelle know of this? Was it the answer to Sophie's question as to why she had asked her servant to stay in her room during the night? The young aristocrat must have noticed them prowling outside and realised that it was them who left the woods to haunt the mansion.

A single thought ran through the girl's otherwise empty mind over and over again. Was Anabelle safe in her chamber? If the wolves could reach the first floor so easily, then breaking in on the ground floor would unlikely pose them any difficulty either. For all Sophie knew, the monsters could be lurking nearby, waiting to strike. Anabelle was in serious danger, and the maid had to warn her immediately that the beasts had already found their way inside. She wanted to run, but her legs felt like they were full of lead. Sophie could almost smell the familiar sweet scent that the white wolf had emitted. Was it a vivid memory or were the monsters actually close? She shook her head to chase away unhelping thoughts, but the further she got, the more she was convinced that the wolves were there, all around her, prowling, staring at her with their hungry eyes, waiting for her to trip and fall down. As the lass trotted through a long corridor with windows on one side and portraits on the other, she registered a soft thudding sound outdoors, as if someone was stomping on the ground, but knew better than to look behind the glass.

The door to Anabelle's bedchamber was right ahead, yet it seemed so far away. With every step she took, it moved back, taunting the young handmaiden, laughing at her with its closed mouth, just like the ghastly portraits on the wall were. Sophie's breath shaped a tiny cloud, which could mean only one thing. At least one window, that was supposed to be firmly closed, was open somewhere downstairs, allowing the chilled autumn air to seep into the house. She heard her heartbeat drumming in her ears, so loudly that it echoed throughout the corridor. The girl picked up the pace, her eyes on the door ahead of her. With a trembling hand finally reaching the brass doorknob, she gave it an abrupt twist.

Locked.

Unlike on any day before, the door was locked from the other side. But of course, it was locked. If Anabelle knew about the threat the residents were probably in, then why would she leave it open? She must have locked both the door and the window before going to bed, suspecting that the wolves might venture near the mansion. If only she had confided in Sophie and shared her reservations, the girl might have persuaded Mrs Sullivan to, at the very least, lock the windows with keys and cover them with thick curtains.

"Miss Anabelle?" the maid knocked on the door. "Miss Anabelle, are you there?"

No reply. Sophie heard her own quick breathing as she waited for an answer from the other side, but none came.

"Miss Anabelle! It's me, Sophie!" she exclaimed, voice laced with panic. "Please, let me in!"

Another period of alarming silence. The girl could not help but keep on knocking on the door with her fist. She did not want to be out there, not when the demonic beasts were prowling. Her ears pricked up as she thought she heard something behind the door. Or was it outside? Her mind was playing tricks on her, and she couldn't tell real from unreal anymore. After laying a few more frantic punches on the wooden barrier, Sophie turned around and stared into the weakly lit corridor. The atmosphere was oppressive. She could swear she heard a growl coming from all directions at once. Perhaps, the maid could still make a run for it and get to the servant's quarters safely through the kitchen. But then again, Anabelle could be in trouble, and the lass would not forgive herself if she ran away knowing that her lady was in mortal peril.

"Anabelle! Please!"

Click.

The unmistakable noise of a key turning in a lock caught the servant's attention. The door opened a crack, and Sophie saw a sliver of Anabelle's youthful face looking out. The young woman looked weary, a sheen of sweat gracing her pallid complexion. Her green eyes were welcoming, yet distant, like fading stars, and her blonde hair was in a total disarray. She was wearing a black, lacy nightgown that was as elegant as it was impractical, which was also crumpled and messy, with a strap slipping off her smooth, pale shoulder. The expression on the noble's face was intricate. On one hand, she appeared relieved and, in a weird way, satisfied, but on the other, there was a touch of disappointment that she was trying to hide behind a weak smile.

"Thank goodness you're safe! I was afra..."

Before Sophie finished expressing her genuine worries and concerns, Anabelle grabbed her servant by the hand and yanked inside, swiftly closing the door behind the two of them. With a quick glance around, the maid noticed that the lady's chamber was feebly lit and cool. In fact, it was as cool as in the corridor. Soon enough, she figured out why, for the only window in there was open, and the curtains rustled lazily in the wind.

"Sophie... What are you doing here?" Anabelle's eyes examined the lass carefully, from head to toe. "Have I not asked you to stay in your room after dark?"

"You have. I'm sorry, milady. I couldn't fall asleep, so I went out to stretch my legs a little, and then, I saw one of those... those monst... mm..!"

Sophie's words were cut short when the noblewoman cupped her cheeks and leaned in for an unexpected kiss. Startled, the servant froze in place, not knowing how to react. Her lady's mellow lips pressed against hers, their warmth gradually melting away her apprehension. The maid took half a step back, only to bump into the door closed moments ago and separating them from the dangers of the dark hallways. Anabelle's breath tasted like honey, sweet and intoxicating. Sophie's instinctively shut lips parted a tad, incapable of staving off the onslaught of the prodding tongue that was too eager to find a way into her futilely resisting mouth. The noble's hands released the girl's cheeks and wandered lower, over to her neck and shoulders and further down, until they found themselves groping her pretty bottom.