BB's Dirty Thoughts, Sept 2.0

Though Vivienne considered herself a brave woman, this... was the beyond the scope of what Anyone would call normal.

She should have been driven from Chateau Tagyk by the fantastical stories of menace and horror; but why should she? It's Lord was young and promising, the land fertile, the duchy patient, careful, and low in criminal activity. It was certainly remote, but it's mountainside stature promised breathtaking natural beauty and flourishing economy. There was every reason for a valley peasant of healthy standing to seek employment there. So into the snowy mountains she went, having been invited by the Quartermaster of the Estate itself.

The first thing to notice about the city above was it's religious tone; superstition had been allowed to run rampant, freely entangling with spiritual dogma and local myth. The result was populace constantly afeared of the dark of the forest. She was reguarded with skepticism as a newcomer, but ultimately, her wry, playful spirit and kind nature made the locals warm to her.

Imagine her surprise they warned her not to work for the Duke.

"The castle is cursed", they said. It was all she could get out of them. That, and a peculiar avoidance of any mention of the Duke or his immediate family. The topic was pointedly avoided.

Employment had been fairly straightforward, if lonely, for the first few weeks. She was permitted to leave the grounds on holy days, and what friends she had made always blessed her on sight, glad to see her alive. Girls had gone missing, she heard. Some men, but mostly women. It had jarred her, but she was not so easily dissuaded, and the money was good. Enough for her to live comfortably, and send periodic packages to her mother.

Then came The Proposal.

It would seem that there was a curse, though the Quartermaster explained it as a "rare condition". Once every full moon, his Lordship was afflicted with a hunger sickness that was satiated with one thing alone: the... companionship of a woman. At first, she scoffed at what so obviously sounded of doxy... but then, she was shown the holding chamber. A throne of iron and stone, chains forged of heavy, heavy unworked metal, nearly impossible to lift.

It's for him, she was told. To contain him, and to keep him from hurting anyone... lover included. "Self-imposed", he called it; a deviation from the rest of his lineage's sadistic proclivities. It could be sated on mortal lust, before bloodlust took hold.

She could have run screaming- but the reason for the townspeople's silence had become all but plain. They feared their lord, at the same time, enjoyed the protections and health of a well-kept, affluent land. Unless she could rally a mob, simple townspeople had little chance against a fully staffed castle, and it's center, a monster none dared face.

The money offered was more than tempting. As was the grant of land and title; she could command a house and a staff of her own. Land she could give to her mother, whose health would surely soon be fading. She could dine, dance; suddenly, a wide breadth of the finer things in life were available to her. And though such benefits would have been a great boon to a poor peasant and her family, it was not material benefit that drove her acceptance.

If she didn't tame the beast, then who would? She simply couldn't let more deaths happen in vain.

And more than that; she had met the man. Though a brutal, imposing mass of a Lord, he was... beautiful. Brash and arrogant, but extraordinarily and overtly gentle with her. She knew the fearful look of longing for acceptance when she saw it. This? His beauty be dashed, this was no monster! This was nothing more than a boy who needed to be taught manners, a foolhardy renegade who could be built up as a man if he learned to quell his uneven tempers. This would be Nothing, child's play! He'd bark at her reprimand for awhile, certainly, then shrink when she outsmarted him. It would be all too easy.

And... it was clear the burden pained him. She wanted to believe this meant it would make breaking him easier... but the truth was, she ached to see the scars beneath. Ached for him.

So she accepted. And tonight? The Full Harvest Moon.

The BEAST that clawed slavered and thrashed in it's throne of iron chains made her second guess every single one of her brave, foolish, brash life choices. The dark skinned creature was twice the size of a man, devilish, though with traces of the human form he wore before. Same dark hair, same brown-black eyes, though now seemingly flecked with hellfire itself. Horns had erupted from his skull the way a fungus takes hold of a tree, splitting the bark and defying it's host's strength with unnatural colour and mighty size.  And those fangs... an entire maw of sharp blades that could rip out a throat without a single thought. What were once a man of twenty nine's calloused, athletic, juvenile hands were now long fleshy talons, each capped with wood-splintering claw.

It stilled itself somewhat as she came inside, growling and scenting the wind- inhaling her. It FIXATED on her, shifting with predatory uneasiness, threatening her with a ferocious snarl.

And most imposing of all; the stone-breaking erection practically the size of a man's arm, pulsing and Angry red, as though furious to not be slamming itself against a hip and releasing it's heavy load into pinned prey RIGHT this second.

She had never been more terrified... had never been more wet.


(This has been a reincarnation of an erotic adult dark fairytale I wrote a long, long time ago... that has remained a persistent erotic fantasy of mine. Shall I continue... ?)