The Deep Murk

The mist enshrouds my barren body.

Left to die in the wild, nothing but a black veil of despair clouding over me.

A barren, lifeless valley.

"...Heh, my body's never been this cold before. Guess I'm a survivor."

They were making more shipments today.

The slave trade never falters in these parts.

I don't recall ever believing I'd escape that kind of life.

In hindsight, I guess the storm was a relief all its own.

"Believe in yourself... and you shall succeed. Such encouraging words..."

She had a lover there, or so it seemed, anyway.

A striking youth clad in black, simple yet elegant.

There was never any doubt as to his intentions - he made sweet promises

and delivered on them tenderly.

But it was all too fleeting.

The thunder clapped in a vicious salvo.

Fear, disgust... excitement?

Mixed together in the shallow night, that night, the night she was being led away.

The rich, the powerful - they are the true clientele. She was to be theirs.

--No longer, she'd decided.

Fortune called, and her answer lay in her hands.

In that night.

Collapsing from the mountainside, they say a cart once filled with people came to be ash and rubble.

Amidst speckled dust...

Crissele arises.

Knife in hand, and the bloody remains of traders at her heel.

Yet now, hope eludes her.

"He always did say I should stop speaking to myself--!"

...Laughing in the inside, dying on the outside.

Much like those days with him.

Why were they to part, then?

It is a barren valley indeed.

Nothing lives in these parts.

The vegetation is just a mixture of enduring trees and harsh, rugged grass, and the air is a mixture

of dread and--

--A howl. In the distance, a deep cry.

Was it loneliness I felt?

Hopelessly torn from affections, I sought out the source.

An alien presence stood there, bloodied and soiled. It was... a lupine specimen. A black wolf. Pure and proud.

And now it lay there, torn and shredded...

I couldn't help but think about why, how, why now...

But.

Clinging to warmth.

I grasped that body.

The shallow night soon turned to a deep murk

As the shape of this paragon shifts, I gasp at my realization.

That body, whipped and torn, belonged to no one else.

It was mine alone.

I cry out.

I whisper sweetness.

I beg for his life.

...And I assume the role he had always wished for.

He finally hears a plea, that... dick!

"--Hah. You were so cold before. What's wrong?"

Cold, you say? Hmph.

There's no hesitation in what comes next.

--A slap.

--A slap back.

Not aimlessly.

We direct our forces with strong intent.

"Hnngh... You heal too fast for your own good," I quickly note.

He picks himself up off the ground, then charges at me like a ravenous beast.

"I'm not ready--!"

But I was.

And he knew.

Clothes were hardly a hindrance.

He didn't even have to try to remove them.

A simple twist of the mouth, and I'm--

All the anxiety, the fear, the stress, the blood, everything melts away in his grasp--

And those... rough... motions...

Unfurl me further!

I had never been quite this aroused.

"It's been way too long, you know?" He stammers between striding thrusts.

"Shut up, you fucking horndog! One minute is too long for you!" I retort unabashedly.

He never had any shame.

Marcus, the one who owns me.

I, the one who owns him.

"I don't like you, you know!"

--I can barely muster the words.

He will feel this.

Making sure of it, I scratch his healing marks.

Growling and raging, he pummels me into the worn ground with no hesitation whatsoever.

Switching positions at the drop of lightning, I could feel my life flashing before my eyes.

Never one to disappoint, he licked and played and slammed everything in a whirlwind of power.

And then he began focusing.

I didn't know this was coming. This time, I truly wasn't ready.

The mist dissipated as he channeled his form anew.

A raging werewolf, twixt hume, twixt lupine, now the mightiest lover of them all.

A brutal, crude beast, twisting my life into a plaything.

A brutal, crude woman, taking away his will to choose.

We had raped each other over and over as slaves who knew no better.

We made our own life, our own path, and this was the beginning of something grand.

The long night grows evermore, his stamina unrelenting.

Finally, the moment came.

"You WILL have my child this time," he growled.

"So that's why you called for me, you sick bastard?"

--I thought we'd made it clear I wanted no children. They can't carry our branded legacy.

But...

His is an existence filled with hope.

"SUBMIT!"

I do.

I'm not going to fight him.

I want to spend my life with this brute.

This barren valley, devoid of life and warmth, became our own furnace.

The trees twist and compact at the raging hellfire.

"Embrace your fate."

Hahaha, he's so overdramatic--!

--I melodiously wail at his final thrusts.

Sunrise looms over the white tendrils now festooning me.

Trickling from the overwhelming wetness, the anxiety and shades dissipating since our first touch in these wastes...

Now, we are truly slaves of passion.