4 comments/ 25661 views/ 5 favorites Becoming By: wanderingknight This story developed from a rather intense bit of cybersex between me and fellow Literotica author Erotic_Angel. I strung it together in story form but she helped me edit it into shape. A true collaborative effort that she graciously allowed me to post. _________________________________________ The door Catherine had so carefully sealed opened as easily as if it had never been locked at all. Dante turned his head to meet her gaze, his eyes as dark and seductive as always. "Hello, little morsel," he said simply. He stepped easily into the room and the door swung closed behind him as if caught in a sudden gust. Catherine shivered. Even clad in her thick terrycloth robe, she felt naked under his gaze. All her precautions, her carefully constructed wards had been for nothing. Her resistance and will crumpled like tissue. "Hello, Sir," was all she could manage. Her eyes flicked away from his stare to a point on the flood midway between them. Dante walked slowly around her as she stood motionless in the room. His gaze measured her form, his feather light touches against the soft curves of her body sent new chills racing through her body. Even through the robe his touch was ice. "It has been a while since I had a meal as. . . .succulent" Catherine swallowed hard at his choice of words, a low moan stirring deep in her throat. Within her soul a tiny voice screamed RUN, girl, RUN, but it was drowned by the coursing power of his will over hers. "Just the sort of thing I want to. . . .taste. . . .consume," he stepped back and swept his eyes over her again. His measured and easy steps carried him closer to the trembling girl, his shadow coming to fall over her like an omen. She sobbed wordlessly as the enormity of his words finally hit her. Her eyes flicked to his as he again loomed over her small form "C. . . . con. . . . consume?" she whispered. Dante shrugged almost carelessly and made a show of examining his suit for imagined lint. "Take. . . . use. . . .devour. . . .leave you when I have. . . .finished." He stepped between her and the door as she took a faltering half step, cutting off her abortive escape with deft, dance-like grace. She spun to follow his movements across the room, her eyes widening, her heart pounding. She stepped away from him on tiny bare feet, but he closed the distance easily. "Strip for me," he said simply. His tone was no longer casual. The words hit her like an almost palpable blow and she staggered back a half step. Wordlessly she opened the ties of her robe and let it spill from her shoulders in a single fluid motion, the soft heavy fabric pooling at her feet. Her slim hands made a small motion to conceal her nudity, but a single shake of his head sent them back to clench at her sides in tiny fists. His hand slid smoothly into the fiery tangle of curls on her head, pulling her to him. She whimpered and resisted the pull of his hand. Her eyes were wide like those of a trapped animal sensing an all-too-near predator. Her feet slipped uselessly on the hardwood as his grip in her hair tightened. Dante's dark eyes narrowed. "Do not defy me, morsel." With a motion almost too fast to see, cold fingers tightened around the ivory column of Catherine's throat. The moan that spilled unbidden from her lips was no longer born of fear. This close, his power made her head spin, her knees weak. Her delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist as he held her. Her tiny, whispered "Please. . . ." was more cry than words. He lifted her easily at arms length. Her toes scrambled for purchase against the smooth wooden floor. Her grip tightened on his wrist until her knuckles were white, her long nails driven into the pale skin, desperate to take pressure from her throat. "Please what, pet? Please use you? Please taste you?" His free hand caressed her cheek tenderly. Catherine's breath grew shallow and fast as he held her tighter. Soft, gasping pants trying desperately to suck air into lungs screaming for breath. "Please Sir. . . .I meant not to defy you!" The evenly manicured nail of Dante's index finger grew to a perfectly sculpted pale talon. He trailed the back of the razor-sharp claw down against her cheek. She cried wordlessly, her cheeks flushed with sudden heat at his touch. He became acutely aware of the scent of her arousal filling his sensitive nose, an exotic, enticing wash of perfume. His fingertips felt a tremor pass through her captive body. He pressed the point of his talon against the hollow at the base of her throat, pushing until a single perfect ruby welled up around the claw. She moaned at the pinprick of pain piercing her skin, fighting the urge to swallow again. Dante drew her limp form to his mouth, and arched her neck back to expose the line of blood pulsing over her flesh. His cold lips closing tightly on her hot skin, and he drank hungrily. Catherine's head fell back from his grip. She offered her throat willingly now, completely under his sway. Her eyes closed, and she could feel the hammering of her own pulse as he fed. He broke contact with her long enough to open the thin wound with his claw, shearing the soft skin until a line of crimson marred the silken skin of her throat. He pressed hungry, suckling lips to her again, drawing forth another moan at the mingling of pain and ecstasy. His power grew as he fed, his presence suddenly even larger in her addled senses. His grip tightened, arching her neck further until her bones and sinews strained with complaints. Dante's suddenly sharp teeth pressed deep into her skin, holding his hungry mouth in place against the flowing slash. Hot tears flowed over her cheeks as wracking sobs flowed from her throat. Her fingers fell bloodlessly away from his wrist and she sagged in his grip as he warmed against her. His skin was suddenly almost hot where it touched her flesh. Her nipples were hard, aching pebbles upthrust against his chest as her body responded to his assault. By now her blood was merely an afterthought, an appetizer for his true hunger. His dark soul was linked to hers, he was feeding on her very life. Even as her skin cooled to his touch, his warmed. As she weakened, his power grew. The sudden cry of pain forced him to slacken his grip, lest he snap her neck and end his meal. The cries faded to moans as her form became pliant in his grip, eyes glazed and hands falling to her sides as she hung before him, trembling, inner thighs gleaming with desire. Dante tore from her throat with an animal growl, ripping her flesh anew as his teeth broke free. His lips and chin were stained crimson from feeding. He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her hard, fast, passionately. As he thrust his tongue against hers, she tasted the hot copper tang of her own life essence and moaned into his kiss. "Now, my little puppet," he said, breaking the kiss, "on your knees. I have fed. I pulse with life. I desire pleasure." "Yes Master," she murmured. The words seemed to come from somewhere far away, with a dreamy quality to a voice her fragmented and confused mind could barely be sure was her own. She slipped from his grasp, melting to her knees before him. Unfocussed eyes gazed up at him, lush lips parted, the tip of her tiny pink tongue sliding over the red flesh to make it glisten temptingly. Dante freed the hard shaft of his cock, felt it pulse in his hand with the preternatural beat of his heart. He slid the head against her throat, smearing her spilling blood up over her face with his precum. Catherine moaned again, arched her head back to feel more of the heated, hard flesh against her skin and parted her lips widely. She drew the thick, veined shaft deep into her mouth in one deft motion, felt it press against her tight throat as she mewled hungrily around him. He grunted in pleasure as he felt her tight throat around the head. His steady grip on the back of her head pressed her nose into the dark curls at the base of his erection and he shuddered in delight as she swallowed around him. The ecstasy of feeding was rapidly replaced with the all-too-human feeling of pure animal lust. Catherine struggled to accept his thrusting shaft, desperate, eager to please him. The muscles of her tender throat rippled around him as she moaned against his thick shaft. Her hands closed around his hard thighs and she willingly, eagerly buried his cock completely in her mouth. Dante growled and gripped her hair tighter, trying in vain to control the sudden assault on his pulsing cock. The thick shaft gagged her, stealing her breath and driving the wet moans deeper into her throat. "Yesssssss" He hissed out in pure primal pleasure now, a dark tone in his voice that was tinged with his growing lust. "Feed, little whore. Swallow my cock like a wanton, drooling slut." His voice was a deep, growling purr as he murmured down at her. "My pretty little cocksucker." Catherine choked around his cock as she felt the head swell in her throat. Her eyes were glazed as she struggled to breath around the invading shaft. His full, swollen balls tightened against the base of his cock, her tiny hand kneading and caressing them, trying to coax the heavy load into her waiting mouth. Dante's hips bucked hard against her face, and a stream of hot cum pulsed over her tongue. He pushed her head down, letting the hot torrent of his seed throb into her mouth, her throat. The flow bulged her cheeks, leaking from her lips as she pushed her mouth eagerly against him. Catherine whimpered as her throat convulsed trying to swallow it all, feeling his hot cum spill over her chin and splash on her thighs. He held her in place as she drank and suckled, her lips locked just behind the head. A tiny shiver passed through her as she swallowed his hot gift, her heart again pounding in her ears. He grabbed her arms, his body still singing with the power he had taken from her. Catherine cried out in surprise as he slammed her body face down to the desk with ease, her bare breasts pressed against the cool, unyielding wood. He kicked her legs wide, willed himself erect again and gripped her hips in taloned hands. Catherine sobbed with the sudden pain of his grip, but her thighs dripped with evidence of her own need, her smooth, bared cunt quivering. With a single, powerful stroke he plunged into her, driving her swollen clit against the hard edge of the desk. Catherine screamed as he impaled her, shudders wracking her body as he ground her against the hard surface. Dante grabbed her hair, jerking her head back to hiss in her ear. "Cum, or don't cum. I don't care, little whore. I'm not going to stop until I have had my fill of you." Catherine's fingers grasped the edge of the desk as he hammered into her. Her hips pressed back into each thrust, moaning as he used her. Dante grabbed her shoulders, yanking her back, impaling her with each thrust. Her body crackled with pain and pleasure, the two entangled in her soul until they were one. The desk slid across the smooth floor with the force of his strokes as he took from her what he wished. With an inarticulate cry of pure lust, her body danced and writhed under his, her cum flowing in hot rivers down over her legs, slicking the hot shaft of his pounding cock as it ravaged her. Orgasm after orgasm wracked her petite form, exploding through her body in rapid waves, leaving her weak. Dante grunted as she spasmed and contracted around him, his clawed fingers piercing her skin where he held her. Her moans grew more and more feral, hot and low, torn from her throat. Her body jerked and thrashed under him as he marked her once more. His canines grew against his lips, and he tore a jagged rip in the hot skin of his own wrist. The hot mixture of her blood and his own pulsed over his arm. With his free hand he gripped her throat, leveraging her neck back until the bones separated slightly, singing with a single pure note of agony. "Choose. Eternally mine. . . . or oblivion." Her answer caught in her throat, words choked off by his grip. Dark eyes flared as the scent of his offering tore down her reason, and Catherine's mouth parted almost of its own volition, seeking the source of the dark, powerful scent filling her head, singing through her soul. He brushed his wrist against her mouth, painting her lips with the coppery tang of their mingled blood. Catherine grasped at his wrist like she was drowning and he was her lifeline. As her lips closed over him and drank deeply of his power, her body pulsed with the energy, the sheer raw excitement and erotic thrill of the moment. He had made her. . . .re-made her as his own. The sudden, almost electric connection between them caused his cock to erupt within her, searing her sodden cunt with the white hot flow of his thick cum. Catherine cried out around the wound, her tongue alive with the taste of his power, her body shuddering with one final orgasm. Dante released the death grip on her neck, sagging against her on the desk. She collapsed against the wood, feeling that blood pouring through her like a raging river of molten metal. He slid free of her, the last pulse of his cum splashed against her legs. He stood on shaking legs, and Catherine slid from the desk to the floor at his feet. "What. . . . what am I now?" she whispered, half afraid of the answer she would get. "A creature of night and shadow. A predator. A hunter of men. All this and more." She nodded softly, peering at her own delicate hands as if for the first time. She was different than she was before, of that there was no doubt. She lifted her gaze to him as he towered over her on the floor. "But what you are most of all, pet, is mine. Forever." Catherine's lips parted in a dark smile, pointed canines revealed in the glinting moonlight. "But Master. . . .I always was. . . ." Becoming I looked out at the sky. It was going to storm, quite badly. The twilight clouds were a strange dark blue. The very tops of the clouds were gray. It was hard to believe this was nature, not some painter's masterful stokes on canvas. I shivered, feeling the air grew cooler as the clouds rolled in slowly from all directions. Already the wind was picking up, rustling the green leaves on the nearby bushes and trees. "Dahling...." I looked up when the soft buttery voice addressed me. He could never seem to pronounce the R in the term of endearment. Louis slide down in the rocker next to mine. His long dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. In the darken sky it looked black, not the dark earth-brown it actually was. His hat was tilted forward, covering his brown eyes. I leaned back in the chair, and stared at the sky. "It's going to storm bad." I said quietly. He chuckled a bit, leaning back. He sat two little shot glasses of amber colored liquid on the tiny round table between the chairs, along with a larger glass of tea. He kicked up his boots on the porch railing and rested his hands against the green-blue material on his stomach. "I know. Everything is bunked down for the night, dahling." he spoke calmly. I looked over at him. I was nervous. The storm was not the only reason, however. Louis reached in his shirt pocket, and pulled out a a vial of brown-maroon liquid. I eyed it warily. He smiled. It was a kind smile, one of reassurance and comfort. But in the smile I saw a hint of sadness. We both knew why. "Big step you taking tonight. Once you do this, you can't go back. You will never be able to go back. You can visit back, but you will never actually be back. You'll be an outcast like me. You will never fit in with them again." "I know, Louis. I never really felt like I fit in before, though. I won't be missing much." My stomach jumped. His smile did not falter. He was giving me the chance to turn away. "I'll be like you once I go through with it." I said, to let him know I did think about my choice. "I'm not going to talk you out of it, or beg you into it." he stated, staring at the vial, turning it in his fingers. "I want you to make your choice, the one you want to make. But know that no matter what your choice is, I will not stop loving you because of it." I smiled a little. "Will you promise to be gentle, Louis? I don't want this to be painful." I looked at him. He was looking at me. His large fingers tilted the brim of his off-white hat letting his strange and kind brown eyes look at me. "Always." "Will you leave me eventually, chasing off after the next pretty thing you see?" "Never. Always yours. I will know what you did to be with me, I will know you love me, even for what I am." I smiled a little. I knew he wouldn't run off, leaving me in the dust. "The question is, can you handle my devotion? My love? Our life? I can be very bear-like sometimes." "Yes, I can. If I could not I would not do this. I want to be forever yours." I added. He smiled briefly at me, and looked to the darkening sky. The wind blew harder. "Nature is protesting." I said, feeling an eery electricity to the air. "No, She's giving you a clean slate." he said. "She's gone wild tonight, not out of protest, but celebration. She loves you as much as I do." He handed me the vial and a shot glass. "The contents of the vial will open your mind to Nature. You'll see things in a different light. After you swallow the stuff in the vial, shoot the whiskey. Strong, old. The potion will be rough. It'll chase it down." He picked up his little glass. I popped the cap off the vial. A strange scent filled the air, of grass and bark, of warmth and earth. It was not a bad smell. "Last chance to turn back now. Save yourself if you want." he said, watching me with his glass raised. I noticed his hand trembled, causing the whisky to lap dangerously at the rim. He was just as nervous as I was. I smiled at him, and raised the vial to my lips. The scent became stronger. Strangely it did not over power me. "Forever yours." I smiled at him before tilting the liquid in my mouth. He did the same with his whiskey. In the distance I heard a rumble of thunder. The contents of the vial reminded me of a summer's night in the deep, untouched woods. I could taste the trees, the grass, the earth, and the sky. He was right, however. After the initial taste it began to burn my mouth. I swallowed quickly and raised the whisky to my lips. The whiskey took away some of the burn, but not a lot. I feel the liquid burn down my throat to my belly. It was as if someone set a bonfire inside of me me. Startled, I felt my eyes water and I began to cough. The shot glass and vial fell from my hands. I felt a heavy thump in my lap where the shot glass landed, and the loud shattering of glass to the right of me. "Here! Quickly!" Louis thrust the glass of ice cold tea in my hands. Shaking, I poured the cool and sweetened liquid in my mouth. It felt so good, extinguishing the flames the potion created. I did not stop swallowing until the tea was gone. My stomach rumbled, and I thought I was going to be sick. I leaned forward, hoping that would not happened. I wanted to be his, I did not want my body to reject this. Instead of vomiting like I feared I let out a loud belch. He chuckled and patted me on the back. "Its the tea." I heard a sense of relief in his voice. "You must have swallowed it too fast. But I'm sure you feel better now, right?" "Yes." It was true. I did feel much better after that pocket of air was gone. I sat the glass down on the table, and retrieved the shot glass from my lap. The vial laid shatter on the porch to the right of me. I moved to get up to get a broom, but he stopped me. "There will be the morning for that. Its out of the way, so don't worry about stepping on it. Tonight, don't worry about anything. Just stay out here and we'll watch the storm until its time." "until its time..." I repeated, licking my lips. He smiled, and leaned back in the rocking chair. I did the same. He reached over and took my hand, squeezing it. Another low and low rumble of thunder rolled in the sky. "She's getting ready to break loose." Louis whispered. Sure enough, as soon as he spoke this, The rain started. It wasn't just a few drops here or there, like normal. It was an onslaught of large, fat heavy drops.Lightening flashed, followed by the deafening thunder. The fat drops pounded against the wood roof, creating a loud assaulting noise. Neither of us spoke. As I sat there, watching the rain and sky, I began to few an odd sensation. It was very peaceful. I closed my eyes, feeling relaxed. The loudness of the storm went away. Things just seemed to quiet down. The storm must be moving on. I leaned down in my chair a little more, enjoying the feeling. For the first time in my life, I felt at home, wanted. "Dah-ling." Louis whispered. "open your eyes." Slowly, I opened them, expecting the rain to be gone. No, it was still the same onslaught. Yet, the drops were not so loud or scary. Instead, they were soothing and beckoning. I looked out into the yard, standing up to lean on the railing. I could see every drop that fell as the lightening flashed in the sky, ever glimmer of water. I could hear a soft thump as the rain hit the ground. "She wants you. Hear Her calling for you?" he whispered to me. He was right. I wanted to go out to the rain, in the storm. I could were the whisper of the earth as clearly as I heard him speaking to me. I did not hear words, just the feelings of love, of rejoice. I looked back at him. He was leaning forward. "She wants to embrace you, cleanse you, love you." he smiled. "Don't be worried." So I stepped down the three stairs of the porch into the rain. The water was not cold like it normally was. It was very warm, soaking me with a wonderful feeling of cleanliness. I cupped my hands together, allowing rain water to fill up my palms. Lightening flashed, offering me a glimpse of beautiful feminine face in the water. I barely noticed the thunder. I was intrigued by this woman in my palms. Who was she? I brought my water filled palms to me. As if reading my mind, another bolt of lightening flashed. She was me. The woman in my palms was me, cleansed and calm. The glimpse was only brief, but I knew I was there. I started to laugh, happy. I was accepted by Nature, I was home. Cheerfully, I splashed the water against my face, rubbing it in my cheeks. Such a soothing sensation, the one of love and acceptance! I lost time of how long was was out in the never-ending rain, being cleaned and loved. Only when I felt a pair of strong hands on my shoulders did I become of aware of how wonderfully soaked I was. I was warm, I was happy. "It is time." a soft male voice whispered in my ear. I let Louis gently pull me into the modest cabin. I blinked. The inside of the cabin was dimly lit by the soft glow of little candles. I was dripping wet. He handed me a soft towel. I blushed as his fingertips touched mine. I could feel every ridge in his skin, every rough patch from where he worked in the earth. I quickly dried some of my hair, wanting to keep some of the soothing rain water on me but wanting to please him as well. He smiled gently. "Take off your clothes, they are wet, and you won't be needin' them." I shivered as his soft voice seemed to caress my wet skin, offering an equal hint of love and protection, of excitement and lust. He had to help me. I was shivering. Not from cold, not from fear, but from excitement. When his fingers touched my skin I couldn't help but to moan softly. His nostrils flared, inhaling my scent. He knew what I wanted. "Almost." he whispered in my ear as he dried me off more thoroughly. "Almost, my love." He pressed his soft lips against my ear in a kiss, sending a spark down to my toes. He stood back, and removed his wet clothes.I blushed, and looked away slightly. I was still a bit shy. He chuckled, finding my modesty cute. He gently took my hand, and lead me to the bedroom. The deep brown and maroon comforter and covers on the bed were pulled back, revealing the white sheets. The scent of wood smoke filled my nostrils, intoxicating me. I climbed on the bed and knelt in the center, waiting for him to join me. In the dim light I watch him pick up a stone bowl from the near the door, the source of the wood smell. Smoke raised in tendrils from the center. This was not thick wood smoke, but much like incense smoke. It curled and formed little playful shapes. Louis climbed on the bed and knelt in from of me, placing the bowl between us. Smiling, he reached out and touched my face. I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his wrists. He was a strong man, as strong as a bear. Yet one couldn't tell from the way he cupped my face so gently. "You've accepted me for what I was, you loved me when nobody else could," he whispered, staring at me with his handsome brown eyes. "or wanted to." I smiled back at him. "For this I offered to share my world with you, a world very few people know or live in. Do you accept this?" "Yes." I whispered, a dreamy. The smoke was intoxicating. He stared at me a bit more, as if deciding if he wanted to go through with this himself. "I love you, Louis." I said, as if to reassure him. "This is my choice to want this, to be like you and to understand you." He smiled, and let go of my face. "I promise I will try not to hurt you." he whispered, showing the reason for his hesitation. I nodded. "I'll forgive you." I said. He nodded. His hands waved near the base of the bowl, encourage the smoke up. "My animal is the mighty bear, strong, fierce, protective." he whispered. As he spoke, I watched in wonder as the smoke took on the shape of a bear, round and large. Was he truly making the shapes, or was it the potion I took? "The animal chose me when I was young, and is me today.We are one, the bear and me." I watched as he leaned forward a bit. He inhaled the shape through his nostrils with half closed eyes. "He is my animal spirit, my fated shape." His eyes opened. I took a breath. I could see the animal in his eyes, fierceness, the thing he was when he chose to be. I felt my stomach flutter nervously as he made the motions again. "Tell me what you see." he whispered. "Watch." The smoke rose, pausing as it did before. This time, the smoke formed together into a lean creature with long legs. The creature looked around, as if looking for something or someone. "Tell me." he whispered. "I see a deer." I answered, a bit surprised. He chuckled. He could see the shape as well, the long-legged smoke animal prancing in a small circle between us. "A doe. A graceful, playful and cunning creature. She is a beauty in nature. She has chosen you." He leaned forward. With a gentle puff, he blew the smoke in my face. I followed his example, and inhaled. The smoke did not burn my nose as expected. As I inhaled I felt a call to spring over meadows, to run and to twist in a lithe form over colorful wildflowers. I wanted to play carefree as a deer, as doe. I wanted to splash in a clean brook, I wanted to bounce and run. "Our fates are together." I opened my eyes, letting the feeling melt away. He was smiling gently. "A doe is fragile and delicate. She needs a bear to protect her." He moved the bowl to the floor, away from the covers and anything else, giving it an open space. When he sat back up he looked at me. I shivered. He leaned in. His lips found mine in a gentle kiss. I kissed back. "Please, Louis. I'm ready." I whispered softly. He kissed me again, just a gentle, sweet kiss. I sensed a hesitation. "What's wrong?" "I don't want to hurt you." he whispered, shivering a bit. "I am suppose to protect you." "You won't, you'll set my doe spirit free." I whispered back. "She's inside of me now, she can't live trapped. Set her free, Louis. Do what you have to do." I leaned back, allowing him to over over me. "You'll be like me. You'll be different." he whispered. "I'll be like you. I'll have a free side, one who isn't trapped false laws. I'll be in touch with Nature, with you. Please Louis." I whispered, wrapping my arms around him. He breathed a bit harder as he pressed his body down against mine. I shivered, feeling his strength. He truly was a bear. "I love you." he whispered, his lips near my shoulder. I moaned softly as I felt his hand run over the tops of my thighs. I parted my knees for him. His fingers touched me, as I heard a rumble of thunder from outside. I clutched onto his back and moaned, feeling electric and the desire for his love and my spirit freedom. "please." I begged, wiggling my hips as he played with me, his fingers touching and rubbing my most intimate of spots. "I'm ready." With that he slowly slid in me. I clutched onto him tighter. He was hard and big as I remembered. I moaned softly as he started to kiss my neck. "I'm sorry." he whispered as he slowly moved in and out of my body, wanting me to relax and excite me even more. "I'll forgive you." I dug my nails in his back. He continued to thrust, letting me enjoy the felling of him inside of me. I shivered, and moaned. It was a good feeling, a clean start, a welcomed pain to come. Slowly, as I felt the pleasure and pressure building up, I closed my eyes and thought of the doe. The doe was in a meadow, bouncing playfully around a large brown bear, who tried to play with her but could not catch her. When my body tightened and I could not hold out much longer that was his signal. His bite was vicious. It had to be. He had to break my skin, to pass the gift. I arched my back and opened my eyes as the pain shot through me like a ripple against a pond. I screamed, digging my nails in his back as he dug his teeth in my left shoulder, down to the very bone. I felt the liquid hot warmth of blood, my blood, seeping out. I felt a an alien stinging sensation. Louis's body heaved. I realized he was sobbing, his tears in my wound was the sting sensation. Had I hurt him by digging my nails in his back? I wished to asking him but could not, in fear I might cry out in sheer pain myself. "I'm sorry. I hurt you." he sobbed. "I wish there was another way, I wish there was potion instead of a bite like that." Feeling my pain subside and my trembling calming down, I gave him a light hug. "Thank you." I whispered, kissing his ear. "Louis, stop sobbing." I tried to hide the quiver in my own voice, the pain from him. "We're free, I'm your kind now. I'll shape-shift with you as a doe, you can protect me. Please Louis, be strong, be fierce." I kissed his neck and pulled his face up to look at mine. His large brown eyes, human, not animal were watery with tears. "Be the bear." I kissed his mouth, tasting my own blood, which poured out over the sheets. Louis too a handful of the cotton, and pressed it against my shoulder to stop the bleeding. "Can I lay next to you?" he whispered. "yes." he pulled out of me and moved to the side. I pressed up against his chest As he held the bit of sheet over my wound. I could feel the bleeding stop. "You'll feel strange your first time shifting, I'll be there to help you with that." "I'd like that." I whispered, leaning into him, in harmony with Nature and her untamed ways, with the doe whom I would become, and of course, my protector and lover. Becoming A Bar Tease *BEEP* Stella blindly reached into her bag and pulled out her phone to check the message, her heart beating a little harder when she saw her lover's name on the screen. She flushed with excitement when she read his text. "We're going out tonight. Wear something sexy." She could hardly wait, knowing Kurt would only be so blunt and mysterious if he had something tremendous planned. Stella daydreamed about what he might have in store on the bus on the way home, and her pussy ached, begging to be touched. As soon as Stella got home, she jumped in the shower. She took her time shaving her pussy; making sure every last inch was hairless and smooth for Kurt. She grabbed the handheld showerhead and brought it to her pussy to rinse the soap away. When the water hit her pussy lips, it made her gasp. There wasn't too much time, but Stella couldn't help herself. She let her free hand fall to her waist, slid her fingers toward her cunt and rubbed it softly. The combination of her fingers and the warm water got her so turned on she needed to finish. One finger slipped inside her hot wet pussy as she pressed the showerhead against her clit. She came fast and hard from the sensation and the lingering memory of her bus ride-fantasies in her mind. Stella took a few deep breaths and stood under the hot water until her legs stopped shaking. She stepped out of the shower and began drying off when the doorbell rang. "Fuck!" Stella threw on her bathrobe and ran to the door to let Kurt inside. When she opened the door, he glanced down and smiled devilishly. When she looked down, she saw why. Her robe was wide open, exposing her naked body to him. "Sorry I'm not even close to rea-" Kurt shut her up by placing his hand over her mouth. His other hand reached inside her robe and snaked around her waist. Kurt pulled her close, kissing her, and let his hands wander down to her bare pussy. They easily found her clit and gently rubbed it just like she loved. "Oh fuck, baby. That feels so fucking good," Stella moaned in Kurt's ear. He put more pressure on her clit and massaged her G-spot. Her hand reached for his belt, but just as she was about to undo it, he took his hands away from her and told her to finish getting dressed. When they finally left the house, Stella's pussy was drenched. Maybe because Kurt kept teasing her pussy whenever she got too close. She made sure to wear the perfect outfit to give Kurt access to her pussy all night. The skirt was long enough to keep her covered, but short enough that when she sat down, her stockings and garter would be visible to anyone sitting nearby. They got to the bar, one Stella had never been to before, and found seats at the bar. It wasn't too crowded since it was still pretty early, but there was a handful of people sitting at tables and playing darts. Only one other guy was sitting at the bar with his hand around a bottle of Budweiser and a shot of whiskey next to him. He turned and caught Stella's eye as Kurt helped her take her coat off. He smiled and nodded before turning back to his beer. She thought nothing of it, but was sure to get onto her stool facing him, so he got a great shot of her garters as she positioned herself on the seat. She didn't look at him as she did this, but she could feel his gaze on her. She turned to tell Kurt and the smile on her face told her he knew what had just happened. Kurt ordered a beer for himself, a whiskey ginger for Stella and two shots of tequila. They chatted for a while, and then he placed his hand on her thigh just below the hem of her skirt. She spread her legs a bit to let him tease her, knowing he'd never take it too far right there in the bar. After teasing her for a bit, Kurt asked for her purse. She handed it to him, confused, and watched as he placed a small black shopping bag inside. "Go to the ladies room and put this on," he instructed. She practically raced in there, dying to know what he had in store. Stella locked the door, opened the bag and took out a small plastic butterfly with a harness attached. Her pussy ached impatiently as she stepped into the harnesses and tightened them around her thighs. She double-checked the toy was in the right spot, taking a second to tease her clit. Stella rearranged her skirt, fussed with her hair for a moment and headed back to the dimly lit bar. Before she even reached Kurt, she felt he butterfly begin to vibrate lightly. Her knees weakened and she didn't think she'd even make it back to her stool, but when she did Kurt was waiting with that sinister grin. She put her hand in his lap and squeezed his semi-hard cock through his jeans. He pushed her hand away with a look that said "not here." Stella pouted and turned her attention to her drink, but she was really bracing herself for the waves of pleasure Kurt was sending through her by playing with the remote of her vibrator. She was glad the music was loud, as it muffled her moans when he cranked the thing all the way up. "I'm so wet I'm going to slip right off this stool," she whispered in his ear. "Well you're doing a terrible job of hiding it," Kurt gestured to the other end of the bar, where the bartender and the other customer were in deep conversation and stealing glances in her direction. "I think those guys both want a piece of your slutty ass. Why don't you tug your skirt up a tiny bit and show off those stockings?" She did so, smiling in their direction, and just then Kurt turned the vibrator up to full volume, contorting her face in pleasure. When she opened her eyes, the bartended was staring at her with lust in his eyes and the other patron had stood up and was walking to her. She looked to Kurt, who smiled and turned the vibrator on so low it was hardly noticeable. "Excuse me, miss," the stranger said. "It looks like you could use another drink. Mind if I buy you one?" "Well, I..." Stella turned and gestured at her man, not sure what to say. Kurt spoke up, "It's fine with me." The stranger introduced himself as Shawn and sat next to Stella. He ordered a round of shots for the three of them and they chatted for a bit. Kurt played with the remote in his pocket the whole time, turning it up almost every time Stella tried to talk. Suddenly he turned it up all the way, causing Stella to cry out in surprise. "Sorry, my hand cramped up for a second," she tried to cover up her outburst. "Actually, Stella's wearing a remote control vibrator," Kurt spoke up. She turned to look at Kurt, shocked, and he whispered a sort-of apology in her ear. "Don't worry baby. Shawn and I spoke while you were in the bathroom. He thinks you're sexy and wants to have some fun with us." Shawn smiled and placed his hand on her leg. Kurt ordered a round of beers for the three of them and unsnapped the top button of Stella's blouse when he walked away. Upon his return, he didn't try to hide his gaze as her shirt now barely covered her tits and you could easily see the lacy bra she wore underneath. Stella winked at the bartender, knowing Kurt had a very fun evening planned for them. Becoming a BBW My name is Celia. I'm 25 years old and I'm a porn star; but not the kind you might be imagining. I'm a BBW (Big Beautiful Woman); you know, a fat girl. It's for a new Web site in an increasingly crowded field so maybe you've seen me, maybe you haven't. On a movie set, I have sex with guys who wouldn't look twice at me on the street. The ironic aspect of performing sexually with lights and a camera is that my size, formerly a turn off to most men, is what now attracts viewers to the site, thus making me a hot commodity. How did I get involved in this and why? Well, I'm 5' 5" tall, brunette, pretty (I've been told), with very light skin. My breasts are 42C. I also weigh 235 lbs. so I haven't usually gotten a lot of attention from men; unless of course they needed an object of fun and derision, which I have been at various times in my life. One guy that dated me (once) even said to someone later on that he wasn't sure he could find "it"(my pussy) let alone fit his cock into it, as if that was supposed to be funny. Until about a month before I started having sex in front of a video camera, I was a virgin. I had some experience jerking guys off and giving blowjobs but nobody was interested in seeing me without my clothes, let alone fucking me. Consequently, in matters of love and sex, I resolved to be very cautious. Sex for me had always been about getting the guy off and never about getting me off. I guess because I was so fat I was supposed to be grateful for just being out with any guy. Well, I wasn't. I may have been overweight (whatever that means) but I was still a person with feelings and sexual desire, something that's difficult for many non-fat people to understand. And so my sex life came to consist alternately of masturbation and deprivation. That is, until about six months ago when Tammy, my best friend at work, asked if she could introduce me to Eric. My day job was, and still is, managing a local framing store. Eric had been friends with Tammy's boyfriend Mark in college, though Tammy said they hadn't seen much of each other since. Eric came into the store one day and had seen me. He asked Tammy who I was, and expressed interest in meeting me. I was surprised and somewhat curious since I didn't remember him, so I told Tammy I'd meet him after work one day and see what he wanted. Though I had been "burned" a lot in the past, I decided that if we liked each other and he asked me out, I'd go. Mark has always been kind and polite to me so I figured any friend of his was worth the risk. If Eric wasn't attracted to me, that would be OK, so long as he was respectful. If it didn't lead to a date or if it led to a date and no sex, I still had my faithful "rabbit" vibrator and "he" had never failed me. Eric called me the very next day. Knowing what I know now, that should have made me suspicious. Anyway, we got together after work a couple of days later. Since I assumed he had already scrutinized me physically, I was a little puzzled as to why a good looking guy would want to go out with someone considerably less than svelte. I thought, "Isn't he afraid of being laughed at in public?" In any case, we got on well and he asked if I'd care to see a film with him that coming Saturday. I really like movies and while I prefer avant garde or foreign cinema, I was willing to see whatever he wanted, though I told him I drew the line at splatter films. He graciously let me choose and I selected something I thought we both might enjoy. Eric picked me up Saturday evening and we went to the theatre. Afterward we went to a small, out of the way bar for a drink. I learned that Eric was a film major in college so we had a lot to talk about. We discussed our favorite directors and our favorite films and then Eric got around to telling me about his work. He was working as a cameraman, assistant director, and scriptwriter for a documentary filmmaker. I thought that was pretty cool. How films are actually created has always interested me. I liked hearing about everything he did. He didn't get paid much, with most documentary filmmakers being almost always underfunded, so Eric also worked doing free-lance editing. He also mumbled something vague about producing video for the Internet. Before I could ask about that, he asked me about my job, which isn't all that interesting, certainly not compared to what Eric was doing. The only thing that kept me from being bored to death was my every other week stint as a docent at an art museum. He asked me if I would ever consider working in film since I had the arts background, an art history degree, and was obviously knowledgeable. I said I didn't think anyone would hire me without experience. I didn't say, "In something as glamorous as filmmaking, no one is going to hire a fat girl with no specific skills who isn't a friend of the director or producer." Eric said maybe he could help if I were interested. I thought that was very nice. At that time I didn't know to what he was referring. If I did, I might have stood up and walked out. Eric took me home and I thanked him for a lovely evening. I was still a little puzzled about his interest as I couldn't see what he would want with me. Of course we did have a nice time. Maybe I was more intellectually stimulating than his usual companions. He took my hand as he walked me to my apartment door. He kissed me goodnight in a way that was more than just polite. He took my face in his hands and kissed me very deeply. I was surprised and somewhat breathless. One hand moved down to my breast as the other started up and down my back. I was a little woozy; I had a nice looking guy feeling me up on my doorstep; something quite unexpected. I swallowed hard and asked if he'd like to come in for "coffee." I was surprised and relieved and scared all at the same time when he said, "Yes." Inside the door, instead of immediately groping me, Eric took my hand and kissed it. He drew me close to him. It was romantic; but also hot: I could feel his erection. My pulse was racing and my pussy was getting wet. He had been so nice to me and had made this the best date I ever had. I quickly made up my mind: If he wanted a blow job or a hand job, I was going to do it. I led him to my bedroom where I put the table lamp on its softest setting. To my further surprise Eric put his hand up my dress, reached inside my panties, and started caressing my buns! No one had ever gone for my butt before. I unzipped his pants, pulled them down, freed his fair-sized member, and dropped to my knees. I started fellating him by taking the head in my mouth and stroking the shaft as he ran his hands through my hair. Even if this was all he wanted, I enjoyed doing it for him and wasn't going to regret it. Instead of cumming in my mouth as I expected, he stepped back and helped me to my feet. He then proceeded to unzip my dress and lift it over my head. He actually wanted to see me naked! He knelt in front of me and pulled down my panties. Then he kissed my pussy. I was literally weak in the knees by this point and completely in his hands. He stood up and finished taking off his clothes. He turned me around and undid my bra. It was then, as I was completely naked, that I remembered how fat I was. I started to feel embarrassed about my size. I put my head down but Eric, seeming to sense exactly what I was feeling, held me close to him and said, "Look at me: I think you're hot and I'm going fuck you like you've never been fucked." Wow! I was finally going to get laid. As he was taking a condom out of his pocket, I said, "Eric, I'm a virgin. Please don't be upset." He stopped, looked at me, and said, "Do you want to just do oral?" "No!" I said quickly. "No, I want you to fuck me. Please." "Celia, are you sure? Are you sure you want me to do it?" I said excitedly, "Yes, I'm sure; surer than I've ever been about anything." "OK, get on that bed," he commanded playfully. I lay back, spread my legs, and bent my knees. Placing the condom on the bed next to us, Eric put his face between my legs and started licking my pussy. I couldn't believe the sensation! I started moaning softly. I was hoping he liked doing it; I hoped I smelled and tasted OK. Was I crazy to agree to this? Would I be embarrassed by it the next day? As if on cue, Eric lifted his head and said reassuringly, "Your pussy is luscious." Was I dreaming? I was too uptight, too nervous to cum, so he finally got up and put the rubber on his still-hard cock. I lifted my arms up to embrace him as he positioned his erection at my entrance. He fell slowly forward and sank into my softness. I felt the pressure of the hard cock on my hymen. He moved in and out with shallow thrusts, gauging my tightness. (He was clearly experienced with the defloration process. I was glad one of us was.) He said, "On the count of three, I'm going to push hard into you. Is that OK?" "Yes," I said, hoarsely. "Do it! Split me open! Take me!" (OK; I got a little carried away, though I think I can be forgiven under the circumstances.) "One..." Yes, finally! "Two..." At last: I was going to be a real woman ... sort of. "Three!" Down he thrust, quickly and forcefully. My hymen gave way with a "snap!" I was amazed: some pressure; very little pain; and it was done. I held him as he fucked me until he came. When he had finished, Eric lay close to me, cuddling and caressing me. I'd half expected him to doff the condom and run out the door but no, he kissed me and asked how I felt about the loss of my virginity. I wasn't a little girl; I wasn't going to get overly emotional about it, but it was so nice of him to care. If I had been 16, it might have meant more. I was happy to have done with it, frankly. Virginity is overrated. I was happier still to have lost it to someone so sexy and so solicitous of me. As we lay on my bed, he actually started complimenting me on my body. Me! This had to be a dream, right? However nice he was to me, I was under no illusion that we would become a "couple" after this and told him so. He was caught off guard by that and hemmed and hawed before I let him off the hook with the question: "Do you have a thing for fat girls? Is that why you went out with me?" He said, "Well ... yeah, sort of; I mean, I like all types of girls but I must admit, big girls really turn me on." That was OK, however, since my level of expectation regarding love is always fairly low anyway. "That's fine," I said. "I'm glad we went out. I'm glad you fucked me; really." "Celia," he said, "I'm surprised you were a virgin. You're very attractive." That was nice, even if he was lying. It was then that he surprised me by asking how open-minded I was. Hmm ... was he going to suggest a threesome or something even kinkier? Or maybe abusive? I said warily that I was fairly open-minded, at least to a point. He asked if I had done any modeling. Modeling? Me? Even the plus-sized store models were slimmer than I was. "OK," I said, "Stop beating around the bush (no pun intended) and get to the point." It was then that he told me about the BBW Web site he and some friends had started and wondered if I would consider modeling for them. I didn't even know what a BBW was until he told me all about this phenomenon in the world of pornography. He described how they set up the site and how they interviewed women to perform sexually with them in front of the camera. I was instantly deflated: it wasn't a dream; it was an audition. "So when were you going to ask me to fuck for your Web site?" I said with a note of indignation. He looked rather sheepish as he replied, "Please don't be angry, Celia. Tonight was really great. Like I said, you're very attractive; you'd be so hot on camera." I didn't know what to say. I was angry, hurt, irritatingly buoyed by the back-handed compliment, and intrigued all at the same time. Seeing that I hadn't firmly rejected the idea, Eric tried another tack: "Let's look at the site. If you don't want to do it, forget I ever asked you." So, we got out of bed and went to my computer. We navigated to the Web site and there were profiles of large women with images of them masturbating or sucking cocks or being fucked from behind. I must admit that it was exciting as well as astonishing to see. I navigated through the "Free Tour" and asked Eric some questions. "Are these professional models? Were they already porn stars?" He told me that they tried to find new and different girls all the time and that it was an amateur site. Their intent was that the production should not look too professional. So, the models needed to be the "girl next door" type. (Fat girl next door, of course.) He and his friends did the fucking, etc. and paid the models by the session. "You could be a star," he said to me. Oh, sure. The women on the site actually were amateur looking. Some had tattoos, some had stretch marks, and all of them were fat. "Do people actually pay to watch fat girls having sex?" I naively asked. "Yes, they sure do! It's becoming lucrative; we're really starting to pull in the subscriptions. We just got a good review from one of the bigger porn site reviewers. That's helped us." He looked at me and said, "We're looking for new models all the time. I think you'd be great." He took my hand. "The guys are really nice. They always treat the girls respectfully, if that's what you're worried about." I reached for a tissue to clean up the little smear of blood on the inside of my thigh. "And remember: It's a sub-culture. No one you know is likely ever to see you." Eric leaned over and gently kissed my lips and stroked my hair. He started to feel my tits and I could see him getting hard again. We went back to the bed for another fucking after which Eric left, excusing himself with some story about needing to do some documentary editing early the next morning. He kissed me good-bye very tenderly, though, and said, "Promise me you'll think about it?" I said that I would. Think about it I did. Of course, I had more than a few reservations. On the one hand, I'd had sex with an attractive man, more attractive than I'd been used to. On the other hand, he fucked me as part of a strategy to help him make money by persuading me to perform sex acts in front of a video camera. Still, that had its "plus" side, too. Before this evening, I would never have thought someone would pay money to watch fat women have sex. It became apparent that a lot of people were prepared to do so; all they needed was an easily accessible place that provided them with continuously refreshed images and the assurance of anonymity. In a fit of imagination inconceivable before this evening's events, I started to fantasize about having sex with attractive men on what was essentially a movie set. I would be the star, the center of attention. More assertive sexuality than that probably wasn't in the cards for me. I decided that I should really think about this seriously. If I was going to blow and fuck guys like Eric and even get paid for it ... well, it was worth considering. I liked the way he made love to me, even if he had been sneaky about the modeling proposal. I knew all along that I wasn't the prize he made me out to be. Though I had suspended my disbelief while it was happening, I was back to reality now. Still, he got it up for me more than once tonight. That was something. I also thought of the down side. First of all, would I have the nerve just to take my clothes off in front of people, let alone have sex? Wouldn't I be embarrassed to have my sexual performance available for anyone to see? What if someone I knew saw it and recognized me? Wouldn't I be stigmatized? Wouldn't I lose my job? Wouldn't the evidence of my depravity cause me to be ostracized from the rest of society (a society that didn't like me that much anyway, I reminded myself) and condemn me to a downward-spiraling life first of pornographic sluthood, then drugs, and finally, crime? I saw myself disheveled, without makeup, clad in gray, and sitting alone in a prison cell as the bars clanged shut. As part of his entreaty, Eric had given me a temporary password to the site. I returned to it, curious about these women who seemed to have risked everything for a few minutes of fame... or was it infamy? Were they social deviants – ex-cons and biker chicks? Were they on drugs during the shoot? As it turned out, none of that was true. As I watched them, I was struck by how ordinary they looked. These were women I might see anywhere: shopping in the grocery store, standing in line at the movies, or ... managing a framing store. Did men really get off seeing fat women fucked and cummed on? Well, apparently they did. I noticed, too, that the men in the films (the same two, by the way) really were respectful of the women as Eric said they were. They complimented them and treated them in a way that I thought was reserved only for the slinkier among us. I had been prepared to see something bordering on the grotesque. Instead, what I saw was plus-sized women having explicit sex with normal-sized men and accepting it as their due. No one made fun of them. There was no humiliation involved. There was the impression only of lust and pleasure for both the male and the female. It occurred to me that there was something both uninhibited and accepting about it that was missing in most of the rest of society and certainly in my life. About a week later, I got up the courage to call Eric. "Celia! I was hoping you'd call," he said. I asked him if I could watch a filming, if that was allowed. "Of course," he said. They didn't let just anyone on the set but that they were always happy, understandably, to have prospective models come to check things out. He told me they were filming the next Sunday morning and asked if I would I like to see how things were done. I swallowed hard and said "Yes." He gave me the address and said he'd see me on Sunday. I arrived at the location, a house in a nice, quiet neighborhood. I knocked on the door, hoping I hadn't gotten the address wrong. A guy opened the door, introduced himself as Terry, and said, "You must be Celia. C'mon in. Eric said you'd be coming over. He said you might be working with us." Hastily, I told him I was still thinking about it. "Cool," he said. "Let me introduce you to the guys." I met Todd, who I recognized from the Web site, and Mike, another performer who, today, was doing the lighting, and Chris, the cameraman. I also met David. He was sort of nerdy compared to the rest of the guys, shy but very nice and kind of cute. David was the one who took care of the technology on the set and maintained the Web site as well. He was busily preparing the monitor and the digital recording equipment. The filming was set to start in about 15 minutes so there was a flurry of activity. I stood to the side, trying not to get in the way. Eric came into the living room and greeted me. "Hey, Celia," and kissed my cheek. "Stick close to me; I'm going to be directing today." I looked around for the model, who was nowhere to be seen. When I asked Eric where she was, he said, "Andrea is in the bedroom, being made up by Marsha." As he said that, two women came into the living room. One was obviously Andrea, red haired, busty, and bigger than I was. She had on a black spaghetti-strapped gown. The other woman was blond, pretty, and normal sized. That was Marsha. In addition to doing the makeup, Eric told me, she was also the "fluffer." Before I could ask what a "fluffer" was, I heard David say, "Ready, Eric." Eric then called everyone to attention. "OK, guys, we're ready to start. Andrea, you look great, doll." Andrea, very nicely made up, smiled, tossed her curly hair, and nervously kept smoothing imaginary wrinkles in her dress. I thought she looked very pretty. Mike had moved the lights into position. Terry had the boom microphone ready. Todd waited alongside Andrea. Apparently he was going to be the male performer today.