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There was a part of her, Lydia supposed, that should be afraid of him.
That was how it was meant to be, wasn’t it? He was inhuman, a demon, a monster. He could snap his fingers and burn the house to the ground if he wanted to, or shackle you to the ceiling, or conjure a hundred copies of himself to pull you apart. She should be afraid of him, any normal person would be.
But then, Lydia doubted she had ever been normal. Normal was boring, normal was overrated, normal was a waste of her time. Normal was for people who didn’t have a demon wrapped around their ring finger.
Betelgeuse was a monster; but he was her monster, and she loved to see his teeth.
She loved that chill up the back of her neck that told her he was lurking; that he was slithering through the walls or creeping under the floorboards, watching, waiting, calculating exactly how he was going to make his grand entrance, what form he was going to take to get a scream from her throat and slickness between her thighs.
Sometimes it was snakes; slithering out of the vents, from under the furniture, from inside the ceiling fan. All dropping down or climbing up onto the bed, collecting over her squirming body, Betelgeuse’s magic keeping her pinned to the mattress like a dried butterfly on a mounting board. It was so easy for a nimble, lithe snake head to nudge under the leg of her underwear this way, dragging his belly against her clit as he slithered slowly up her body, under her nightshirt and out the collar to flick his tongue out against her lips, tasting her panting breath like drinking nectar from a flower.
More and more, snake after snake, collecting on top of her, writhing together, wrapping around her legs, her arms, her throat, her belly, her chest. Some as thick around as her thigh and four times as long, some long and thin like a garden hose; all working together to touch every inch of her, to squeeze and rub in all the right places that made her squirm and gasp.
“Do you know,” —a small chorus of voices, talking all around her— “what ssssnakes have two of, babes?”
She didn’t, but he was sure to show her, the writhing pile melding and morphing on top of her, snake bodies coalescing into each other until it formed a shape she was more familiar with, his face grinning down at her with pointed fangs in his mouth and vertical pupils in his glowing red eyes. His humanoid head and torso unnervingly shifted to snake body about half-way down his belly, the scaled trunk of muscle as thick around as a tree and feeling just as heavy between her thighs.
"Sssssso pretty, Lydssss." His forked tongue tasted the air, his body leaning over her, clawed hands delicately pushing her shirt up and off to palm her chest. "Sssssmell good enough to eat."
His wicked grin was a threat as much as a come on, making a tingle of fight-or-flight instincts jump through her nervous system like a static shock.
“What do you think?” his grin grew wider, the glow of his eyes intensifying. “You think you’ll tassssste as good as you smell?”
Another flick of his tongue, then he opened his jaw; wide, wider, wider—unnaturally wide, his jaw unhinging like the snake he was pretending to be, his mouth filled with too many rows of razor-sharp teeth.
In the years since they’d met, he had earned her trust, her love, her faith. She was sure, utterly sure, that he would never actually hurt her. He loved her, protected her, cherished her.
But that didn’t stop the instinct-born terror from surging through her gut and errupting through her mouth as a scream.
His pleasured groan was absolutely primal, his eyelids sliding half-shut with desire as his full-body shiver literally made the bed quake, the meters and meters of snake body he had on and around it constricting, the furniture squeaking in protest. Lydia thrashed, that still-gaping maw of fangs hovering above her digging itself into the fear sensor part of her brain, making her heart race and a cold sweat break out over her skin.
“Oh, you little cocktease.” His jaw slowly closed, the hinge popping disgustingly back into place on one side, then the other, making her stomach twist until his teeth clacked together in a sharp little bite of the air. “You tryin’ to make me come already, Lyds?”
His scaled body moving made a dry shush of sound, Betelgeuse shifting up just that tiny bit he needed for her to feel what he meant about snakes.
Two. There were two cocks, sitting side by side, protruding from a horizontal slit in between his belly scales. But that wasn’t even the unnerving part; the unnerving part was how they felt, the texture of the damp flesh bumpy, like there were little pebbles just under the skin.
“Mmm...” he rumbled, angling himself to rub against the inside of her thighs. “Wherever shall I fit thesssse?”
God, she could scarcely breathe; fear and arousal clashing, both keeping her heartbeat frantic, her body shivering, the touch of his hands sliding down from her chest to her panties making goosebumps break out all over her skin. Then a claw scratched against her hip as he hooked one finger over the edge of the elastic, sharp little pluck upward cutting through it like it was nothing, her gasp and offended squeak going completely ignored.
Forked tongue flicked out again, tasting the air, immediately followed by a delighted grin of those pointed teeth, hand pushing her torn panties to the side as he tasted again.
“Look at you,” he purred. “Sssso wet already, aren’t you?”
She turned her head away, trying to hide the sudden flush that flared in her cheeks, which only served to make him laugh.
“My ssssweet little Lydia.” He bent over her, that forked tongue licking a stripe up her exposed neck that made her gasp. “Thisss is going to be sssso good.”
Something so big should not be able to move so fast, but in a blink Betelgeuse was slithering and shifting, wrapping his tail around her belly and using it to lift and twist her exactly how he wanted her; which was face down with her cheek pressed against a massive coil of his body, her hips angled up so far she was nearly upside down.
“Betelgeuse!” she gasped, her hands scrabbling against the smooth scales until he shushed her, spreading her legs and hooking his hands around the front of her thighs to keep her open to him.
“I got ya, babes.”
Any further protest Lydia may have had was immediately forgotten when that forked tongue pressed unexpectedly against her asshole. She was not ashamed to admit that she yelped, shock freezing her whole body at the first wet lick, Betelgeuse rubbing hard circles against her opening that was twisting her belly up in knots.
“Betelgeuse,” she gasped his name again, one hand going back to grip his forearm, the other bracing against the dense muscle under her cheek. She knew where this was going, it didn't take a genius to figure out where a man with two dicks wanted to stick them; what she was less sure of was whether she could handle it.
“Trust me, baby,” his voice purred soft right beside her ear, sending a new wave of shivers down her spine. “You know I always make you feel good.”
That was insufferably true, further exemplified when the twin points of his forked tongue slowed, swirling around her rim in a soft dance that suddenly made weird pleasure squirm through her insides.
That’s all he did at first; easy pressure, the wet muscle teasing her, making her rim flutter and spasm, each point of his tongue working alarmingly independent of each other to make her legs tremble. She knew he could feel it, his grip on the front of her thighs squeezing, sharp claws pricking at her skin in the best possible way.
Then he shifted the grip of his tail around her belly, the tip of it dipping down, settling against her from clit to perineum with a gentle rub. She let out a shaky breath, unconsciously angling her hips down against that welcome touch, realizing just how much her pussy was aching for his attention.
Chchchchchchch...
Lydia’s second yelp was even louder than the first one, the shock of a rattlesnake rattle vibrating against her cunt making her jump and thrash uselessly against his hold.
Of course the bastard laughed, holding even tighter, unrelenting with both his tongue and his tail until her shock morphed quickly into tingles of pleasure that spread through her whole pelvis; the perfect distraction for him to finally breach her asshole with little resistance.
“Ohhh...” her shaky exclamation came out on a long breath, surprised when the strange sensation was not unpleasant. Shockingly not unpleasant, the dual stimulation of vibration and tongue promising to make her fall apart in record time.
“Told ya.”
Cocky bastard. He knew she was too overwhelmed to smack him one like he deserved, but she did manage to turn her head to sink her teeth into the scaly flesh under her cheek. To her frustration, it just made him groan, his tongue sinking deeper into her ass with pleasure, thrusting and curling against her insides in a way that was sure to make her go insane.
God, it was so filthy; his inhumanly long tongue thick and wet, her ass clenching around the intrusion of it in little bursts and flutters, trying to make sense of the unexpectedly good sensation even as the vibration against her clit and labia was making familiar pleasure tingle through her pelvis and up her spine. She didn't even realize that she was panting out high, loud whines—creeping closer and closer to the edge—until he suddenly stopped, his tongue withdrawing with a disgusting slurp sound.
Then the world was shifting, Betelgeuse’s grip around her manipulating her body as easily as a ragdoll, turning her sideways and pulling her leg up onto his shoulder with a lecherous grin. Barely a breath of reprieve, and he was guiding both of those strange dicks exactly where he wanted them.
“Beej!” God, it was too much; even with his continued rattling of his tail against her clit, working to keep her feeling good, Lydia didn’t know if she could possibly handle being stuffed so full.
“Sssso good, babes,” his voice was a deep purr, his eyes half closed as he worked himself slowly to the hilt. “That’s my good girl.”
Her full-body shiver made her clench around him, sharpening the feeling of those thick cocks in both her pussy and her ass, the weird bumps she had noticed on them before feeling even stranger than she thought they would. She couldn’t help but reach down on the withdrawal, fingers playing over the bumps until he pushed back inside her.
He chuckled at her curiosity, grinding his hips in in little circles, his claws digging into the tops of her thighs. “Consider yourself lucky, baby. Real snakes tend to have sssspikes.”
Fuck. Thank god he loved her; he was capable of doing so much harm, so much damage, but instead he worked to give her every kind of pleasure.
And god, he really was; the dual pressure of his dicks rubbing against each other through the thin barrier of flesh between them was turning from overwhelming to bone-meltingly good at an alarming speed, the vibration against her clit from his tail acting as an added shove in the direction of orgasm. Especially when the damn man continued to talk.
“My perfect little breather.” His voice was strained, his torso starting to curl over her, pulling her down onto the thrust of his cocks with increasing intensity. “My darling little freak. Love getting railed by a monster, don't you?”
The grip of his tail around her was tightening, the subtle asphyxiation making her breath shallow, each hard thrust in seeming to squeeze a little more air out of her lungs.
God, he could break her. He could squeeze until she popped, blood and viscera everywhere, use what was left as a flesh sleeve for his pleasure. Then he could grab her ghost and do it all again, finger and fuck into eternity, in every way and every configuration he could dream up.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name.” The growled threat was like a lightning strike, ecstasy mounting in a sudden rush that made her dizzy, every small breath she could manage leaving her mouth on a soft cry.
“That’sssss it.” She could hear her bed squeaking in protest, Betelgeuse’s long body constricting around it the closer he got; fuck, he was going to splinter the damn bed if he wasn’t careful. “Give it to me.”
She squirmed, so close to the cusp, the pebbled rub of his dicks oversensatizing her entrance and her asshole in a way she didn't know how to describe. It was as good as it was weird, her nervous system not knowing what to do with it, only knowing she needed more. Then another squirm and twist of her hips and she found it; found the angle, the thrust, the perfect way to squeeze him inside her that would tip it all into climax.
His claws were drawing blood, they had to be, her thighs stinging under his hold when she finally came, squeaking out a shout as her whole body went tense, pleasure cresting and spreading out through her pelvis in that warm wave she loved.
“Fuck!” his growled curse was absolutely feral, his hands and his tail pulling her down hard, riding the squeeze and spasm of her cunt and her ass with mindless fervor. “Fuck!”
Then a wet gush and Lydia gasped, twitching and reflexively tightening as Betelgeuse pulsed spurt after spurt of cool cum inside her without restraint.
Needless to say, coming down from an orgasm high wrapped in dry, smooth snake coils on all sides was not an experience she would be quick to forget; it would, as a matter of fact, become an experience she became regularly familiar with.
That was part of the fun, really; playing and experimenting, finding the things that got them both hot, adding them to their repertoire for a reliable night of pleasure, mixed in with all the endlessly creative new ways for Betelgeuse to use his shapeshifting abilities to get them both off.
On one memorable occasion, it was ectoplasmic ooze; pushing and seeping unnervingly through the light fixtures, the outlets, between the floorboards and the edges of the crown molding. Black as tar, clinging to everything it touched, including her.
She let him back her into a corner, black, shiny ooze creeping along the floorboards, the walls, rapidly cutting off any route of escape, even if she wanted to.
Then he oozed his way up her boots, and the first cold touch of that black slime just over the edge of her laces made her squeak and reflexively flail her leg as a shudder shook up her spine.
Of course, that just served to egg him on, and Lydia found the black slime had a sudden weight, pulling her feet down and holding them to the floor, her muscles straining as she tried to lift her legs. All the while, he kept creeping higher and higher, reaching her knees, then the top of her thighs, engulfing her limbs completely as goosebumps broke out over her skin.
“Fuck,” she squeaked, wobbling slightly as the weight of him made her feel off-kilter; that was all it took, her momentary loss of balance brushing her shoulder against the wall and allowing him to take hold of it.
“Fuck!” she said again, trying to pull away and failing, thick ooze rushing readily over her shoulder and down her arm, down the front of her dress, soaking into the fabric and reaching her skin almost immediately.
“Betel—” His name cut off with a gasp, a tense shiver ripping down her spine; he was in her bra, ooze engulfing her tits in a firm squeeze, slow, rhythmic little pinches to her nipples making them even harder than his cool temperature did. It was a delicious sensation, so strange and incomparable to anything he had ever done before, but she barely had time to process it before he had also reached her waist, ectoplasm seeping into her tights, then her underwear.
That really made her gasp, trying to squeeze her legs together fruitlessly, her hands unnervingly sinking into the black semi-liquid that had now completely engulfed her legs and torso. Stupid, stupid; now he just had her hands, holding tight to them and pulling them down against her sides. All that was left exposed was her head, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t last long either; she could feel him creeping teasingly up her neck, almost like a caress, clearly enjoying the feeling of her constant shivering as ectoplasm slid easily between her legs, petting slickly against her folds.
Then the thick ooze between her thighs started to fucking pulsate.
"Ah!" She couldn't be silent if she tried, head falling back, the ends of her hair immediately trapped in the ectoplasm, Betelgeuse unhesitatingly pulling on the strands as he crept up the length of it to her scalp.
It was absolutely insane, the rhythm almost like a heartbeat, zeroed in on her clit with perfected precision that would have made her knees buckle if he hadn’t been holding her upright.
It was surreal; surreal and strange and so goddamn good. God, she could feel him at her entrance—the thick liquid parting her folds and rubbing at her opening like it was tasting the slickness that was unquestioningly gathering there.
It made her breath turn shallow; the anticipation building in her belly, waiting, knowing what he was going to do next and wordlessly begging him to do it with little whimpers of desire.
He didn’t disappoint, the ectoplasm that had worked its way into her hair suddenly heavy, like he was gripping every strand in a pull that made pleasure/pain drip down her spine at the same moment that he entered her in a liquid rush.
God, it was weird, the thick ooze firming up enough to push inside, reminding her unnervingly of that little weird science experiment she had done as a kid; adding water to cornstarch until it reached that bizarre consistency that made it a solid when tapped and a liquid when still. Weirder yet, his liquid form allowed him to contour himself to fill her entirely, like he was trying to make a mold of her cunt, filling every square inch of her channel until it was almost hurting.
But he knew her, he knew exactly the moment her whimpers turned from pleasured to uncomfortable, dialing himself back enough to return to that golden zone of enjoyment. That golden zone of enjoyment that quickly skyrocketed to ecstasy when he pressed just right, putting pressure on her g-spot at the same moment that he started pulsating inside her in tandem with the pulses against her clit.
“Beej!” his name came out in a strangled squeak, trying in vain to squirm and buck within the absolute hold he had over her entire body, panting and trembling like no tomorrow.
It made him tighten all around her for a moment, a full-body squeeze that felt somehow reassuring; I’ve got you, baby. You’re going to feel so good.
It also made her realize just how far up her neck he had crept, the black ooze reaching her chin, then her bottom lip.
She slammed her mouth shut, revulsion shuddering down her spine; that was where she drew the line. She was not allowing him into her mouth like this, no way in fucking hell. He seemed to take it in stride, flowing over her lips but not trying to part them, black ooze now taking up the entire bottom half of her face.
“Deep breath, little living girl,” his voice whispered in her ear, the only thing he had said during this entire, bizarre encounter, the sound of his voice startling her, making her heart pound even harder than it already was.
It was the kind of warning she immediately obeyed, drawing in a deep breath before black ooze enveloped her nose.
It made her want to scream; to thrash and fight as her survival instincts pounded in her chest, her skull, You’re dying! You’re dying! You’re dying! It made her lungs start to burn, the feeling of it spreading up to her throat, her nose, her head. Still he was relentless, his ectoplasmic form still pulsing persistently against her clit and filling her cunt so perfectly, rocking against her g-spot, the pleasure spreading up from her pussy combating against the burn in her chest.
Betelgeuse! she thought frantically, the white noise of lightheadedness making her vision start to turn white around the edges, oxygen deprivation slowly building, her body fruitlessly struggling and losing strength fast against the heavy pressure of him all around her.
It was a tightrope walk, a fall to either side unavoidable, both pulling on her and threatening to drag her down; actually dying on one side, la petite mort on the other.
Sharpness against the side of her neck, like the ectoplasm suddenly had teeth, and Lydia’s whole body seemed to light up at the sharp yank that pulled her down on the side of pleasure; a tidal wave of it, crashing through her so intensely, the lightheaded white noise in her head skyrocketing until she most definitely passed out.
The next thing she was aware of was the feeling of floating, every inch of her tingling, though her lungs no longer burned. She had no idea how long it took her to realize that she was floating, Betelgeuse’s still ectoplasmic form cradling her body like she was adrift in the middle of a pitch-black sea; still very much alive, and heavy with that post-orgasm bliss that made her incapable of moving. Which, honestly, neither of them minded in the slightest.
And she loved it, she truly did; he was always surprising her, always thrilling her, always finding new ways to make her scream, both in pleasure and in fright.
But sometimes, she liked to be the one who surprised him; to show him exactly how she wanted to be scared.
“I think I’ll go for a walk,” she said, knowing he was listening, knowing that he had been watching her ravenously from the moment she dawned the red, hooded dress currently covering her body. “Sure hope some big, bad, wolf doesn’t come along to eat me up.”
The faint sound of a growl echoed eerily through the house; hint received. She smirked as she closed the door behind her, stepping into the cool autumn air, the light fading into the early evening.
Living with a supernatural being like Betelgeuse didn’t really lend itself well to crowded places like cities or suburbs, and Lydia couldn’t say that she minded; living in a gloomy little house in the woods was truly fitting for a witch and her beloved demon, after all.
It certainly made this little game feel so much more real, so much more thrilling; making her way down one of the many dirt paths on her expansive property, just waiting for him to follow.
There was even a full moon to guide her, keeping her from getting lost or stumbling on a protruding tree branch or uneven earth.
“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf...” she started singing softly, a grin spreading over her lips. Was she laying it on a bit thick? Maybe. But if the faint, gruff laugh she swore she could hear through the trees was anything to go by, he didn’t mind.
Then silence; eerie silence, silence like every living thing in the forest was suddenly too afraid to make a peep. It was so abrupt that she nearly stumbled, thrown off by the sudden mute of sound, almost afraid that it was her that had suddenly gone deaf.
Until there was a rustle, soft but most certainly there, far off to her right.
It made her freeze, her heart picking up tempo, holding her breath as she waited for the next sound, for the smallest clue of how close he had moved.
Another rustle, but this time to her left; goddammit, he was teasing her, taunting her. He was also cheating.
She stepped forward again, trying to keep her pace even and unhurried, listening with all of her might.
Then a flash of something, barely caught in the corner of her eye, gone before she could jerk her head toward it to look. All she knew, was that it was something big.
Run! Run! Run! Run! She squashed down the impulse, focusing on keeping her breath under control, eyeing the curve in the path up ahead with trepidation.
Then the sound of a growl, frighteningly close behind her, and before she could think she had whipped around to stare back up the path.
Hoooooly fuck.
He was far enough away that if she ran now, she’d have at least a decent head start before he caught up with her, but that was potentially an even more terrifying prospect; did she want to be facing him when he inevitably caught her, or away, running like all hell?
He was way more massive than she thought he would be; he had taken “Big Bad Wolf” to heart, his four-legged form three times larger than any wolf of reality. Would she even come up to his shoulder, standing beside him? She was almost sure her whole body would fit in his jaws, he could eat her in one chomp, like a potato chip.
He seemed amused by her frozen fear, his soft growl turning into a gruff laugh, lips pulling back even farther from his pointed teeth.
"Better start running, little red.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice, dirt flying from under her shoes as she bolted, pelting down the path as fast as her legs could carry her, chills ripping down her spine at the cackling laugh that followed.
There was a solid five seconds where all she could hear was her own frantic breathing and rapid footfalls; he was giving her a goddamn head start, undoubtedly watching her disappear around the bend in the path with amusement, counting out how long he was going to let her run before going for the kill.
The problem, Lydia would be soon to find out, was that she had miscalculated—instead of following behind her, instead of gaining ground on the path and catching up to take her down—he used the curve in the path to his advantage, cutting through the woods to head her off.
She screamed, the sight of a giant wolf bursting through the brush right in front of her damn near giving her a heart attack; she couldn’t stop fast enough, certainly couldn’t backpedal back the way she had came, and trying to veer right or left would have just tangled her in the underbrush, making her all the more easy to catch, with the bonus of inevitably getting scratched up and bruised in the process.
Instead she just slid, trying so hard to stop but failing miserably when her feet skidded over the soft earth and pitched her right into his shoulder so hard it winded her, sending her spralling flat on her back and gasping for breath.
He had the audacity to laugh, the dickbag, his paws landing heavily on either side of her and long wolf snout inhaling right in her face.
“Ah, the smell of prey,” he taunted, following the line of her neck with another deep inhale. “So delicious. I could just eat you up.”
He emphasized the double entendre with a snicker, raising his eyes back to her face and licking his chops salaciously.
Next thing she knew, her hand was flying up, clenched in a fist, to collide with his nose.
He reared back with a shout of shock, giving Lydia the tiniest of openings to scramble away, flipping onto her hands and knees and trying to get on her feet fast enough to make a break for it. Unfortunately for her, she only made it a few feet before a huge, clawed hand snatched hold of her ankle, yanking her back down.
“You wanna play rough, little bitch?”
Fuuuuuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck! He dragged her along the ground, pulling her back under him as her hands scrabbled in the dirt for purchase, trying to find anything to take hold of in a spike of blind panic. He was ticked, a continual growl rumbling in his throat, so loud she could feel it as vibration in the air.
Holy shit! was about the only coherent thought she had as he shifted onto his haunches and scooped one paw-like, huge hand under her belly and pulled her up by the hips, up and up and up, until her toes barely touched the ground, while his other hand flipped up the bottom of her dress.
“Little slut.” His growled words sent a shiver of guilty pleasure through her belly; it was exactly the response she had hoped for when she forwent panties before leaving the house, just knowing that it would rile him up as much it made her feel a hedonistic kind of pleasure. “Just fucking begging for it, aren’t you?”
And fuck if he wasn’t going to give it to her, rough hand going to the inside of her thighs, spreading her legs wider with a satisfied hum.
“Betelgeuse,” she panted his name, laying one hand over his across her abdomen, the other palm flat against the ground to give her some kind of support, keep her from tipping face forward into the dirt.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he assured her, a dark pleasure laced through his voice that made goosebumps break out all over her skin. “I’m not gonna break you.”
The yet left hanging unsaid, his hand moving from her thighs to mirror hers on the ground, getting back onto his feet and repositioning himself to rub the fat head of his dick between her folds.
God, he was leaking so much precum, wet drips of it spreading over her lower lips and literally dripping into the dirt. It was weirdly hot, and Lydia tingled with unexpected pleasure, canting her hips back and trying to get him to rub against her clit.
He briefly let her, sliding his length against her pussy in a long stroke, Lydia shivering with a silent little gasp when his furred hips pressed against her ass, the tip of his cock reaching her pubic bone; how the fuck was she going to fit all of him like this?
“My favorite little cunt,” he rumbled with satisfaction, pulling his hips back, smearing more precum all over her folds, tip of his dick pressing bluntly against her entrance. "You're going to be a good little cock sleeve for me, aren't you, babes?"
Goddamnit, she hated how hot it got her when he said shit like that. She could only tremble in reply, nodding frantically with a breathy moan.
"Good girl."
The blunt press against her entrance became a steady push, robbing Lydia of her breath even as she tried her best to relax, to welcome the slow intrusion that was nevertheless sure to leave her aching.
Slow, slow, slow; keeping his promise not to break her, pushing slow and steady until he finally worked open that ring of muscle, the tip of his cock sliding in.
"Ah!" She couldn't help but give a little cry, her pussy spasming reflexively around the heavy girth. Betelgeuse moaned throatily in appreciation; pausing only for a moment before continuing his steady fill of her cunt. Further and further, stretching her open, making her feel every inch of him until there was nowhere left for him to go, wide, blunt head butting against her cervix in an uncomfortable push.
"Betelgeuse," she gasped, her fingers digging into the back of his hand. It gave him pause, flexing his hips a little to make her gasp again before pulling back, starting a slow in-and-out, using his gip around her middle to move her up and down on his cock.
Good little cocksleeve. Jesus, he wasn’t kidding; she had never felt so small, so breakable, this new form of his so easily moving her the way he wanted, as if she were a toy, and God, it was such a turn on. Lord knew what that said about her fucked up psyche, but she certainly wasn’t going to think about that too hard; especially when it was crystal clear that she wasn’t the only one in this situation who was horny as all fuck for their massive size difference. She could feel it in the way he moved, in the way his hips twitched in that little bit more every time his cockhead reached the end of her channel, his desperation to shove in the final few inches of his dick painted in the low moans in his throat on every exhale, and fuck if she didn’t want that too.
“More,” she found herself saying. She was absolutely insane; this could literally turn into death-by-dick if they weren’t careful, but goddamn what a way to go.
He didn’t question it, a pleased rumble vibrating in his chest as he did as she commanded, pushing the limits a little bit more with every thrust, working slowly but steadily to make her body accept him in his entirety, every last, thick inch, relying solely on her fingers on the back of his hand to reign him in when he went too fast.
“God...” She had never felt so full, so aching from the stretch, but so determined to take it all that all she could do was go limp, toes dragging lifelessly against the dirt as he continued to move her, her soft whines and moans the only thing telling him that she hadn’t passed out.
Finally, his furred hips pressed against her ass, Betelgeuse growling out a guttural “Fuck,” as he hitched in, grinding his pelvis victoriously against her labia as she shuddered and groaned.
“Mmm, feel that?” He shifted his hand against her abdomen, angling the edge of his rough palm against her lower belly, making Lydia gasp; yes, yes she could feel that.
She could feel him, the outline of his massive cock making a bump in her lower abdomen that she just had to feel for herself, morbid curiosity getting the better of her. She slid her hand down the back of his hand, wiggling her fingers between the edge of his paw and her body, prompting him to shift his grip again, allowing her to feel.
“Holy shit.” She pressed, the pressure from her hand making his cock twitch, another rumbling moan rattling around his chest.
“Keep doing that.”
She shuddered when he suddenly withdrew, the feel of him moving under her skin mildly unsettling, coupled with the startling amount of time it took for the head of his dick to reach her opening, pausing there for a moment before thrusting back in.
Once he started moving he couldn't seem to stop, moaning and grunting every time he bottomed out, the pace of his hips gradually increasing, knocking the breath out of her lungs with every thrust.
Fuck if it wasn't so good.
“You gonna knot me, Big Bad Wolf?” There was no point pretending otherwise; that is what she wanted when she asked for this form, that was the itch of morbid curiosity she wanted scratched.
Even more deliciously, it caught him off guard, his sharp intake of breath followed by a growling moan.
“Oooohh, dirty girl,” he purred with delight, the rut of his hips getting a little harder, a little sharper, the wet sound of him fucking her suddenly far more pronounced than it was a moment ago. “Daddy’s got your knot, don’t you worry.”
He shifted his grip on her again a moment later, his hand covering hers on her abdomen, the dual pressure against the bulge of his cock feeling so weird, but overrode almost immediately by the change in angle, Betelgeuse holding her closer to his body, her back pressed against the thick fur on his belly.
"Oohh..." That, that was good, and apparently Betelgeuse agreed, the intensity of his thrusts taking on a frantic edge; he was trying not to hurt her, she could tell, but the precipice of orgasm was creeping up on him, a rabbit he couldn't help but chase.
"Lyds..." His elbow buckled, startling a yelp from her throat as the ground jolted uncomfortably close, that little sound of fright apparently his tipping point.
A snarling groan, and he slammed in tight, giving Lydia exactly what she asked for.
"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygoddd..." She could feel the base of his cock thicken, every spurt of cum making it swell more and more, rubbing inside her in all the right ways, fueling the flame of heat in her belly until she whimpered.
God, she was going to combust; he kept pulsing inside her, gush after gush of cum filling her up to an uncomfortable degree, tacky fluid leaking out around his knot despite its best efforts to keep it all locked inside.
“Beej,” she whined his name, squirming despite herself, her clit aching for attention, whole body tingling with the desire to join him, to tip over the edge into bone-melting orgasm. The movement jostled where they were joined, the pressure of his knot tugging at her opening making them both gasp and groan, his hand around her abdomen tightening and jerking her down harder against his hips, grinding deep and tight and making it feel like he was taking up all the space she had left in her body.
“Beej!” she said again, her voice a thready gasp, unable to control the string of spasms that rippled through her cunt in reaction, just making her more desperate to come, more desperate for him to give her something, anything to get her over that edge.
He moaned in reply, half out of it himself and still grinding in with every squeeze of her body around him, huge huffs of breath from his snout disturbing the dry earth under his face. Another long minute, Lydia trying not to squirm or lose her mind in equal measure, before the world shifted, Betelgeuse suddenly sitting upright, hooking both hands under her knees and holding her in place, keeping her tightly seated on his knot.
God, he really was so fucking huge; Lydia tilted her head back, leaning against his furred, soft belly, the top of her head barely reaching his sternum. He was so huge that he could easily curl down over her, confusing her for a moment before the tip of his long snout nuzzled against her clit.
“Ohmygod!”
His mischievous cackle echoed around the woods, his thick, flat tongue darting out a moment later, licking intently from her clit down to where he was still buried inside her, the joint taste of them making him moan.
“We’re so good together, babe,” he rumbled, tracing back up to her clit.
“I’ll... take your... word for it,” she managed to pant, reaching one of her arms down and back against his side, the other arm hooking under his neck, both of her hands all but disappearing into his thick fur as she took hold of it.
That made him chuckle, tongue circling her clit for a moment more before licking in earnest, the jolt of pleasure making Lydia gasp and arch.
Fuck, this was nuts—his tongue knew exactly how to pleasure her, that was nothing new, but it was never like this before. Never when he still had his cock inside her, his hands rocking her down onto him along with each swipe of his tongue; never with him in a form so big, never in a form quite this animal. Sure, it was her idea, but she didn't know how much he was going to commit to it.
He was also committed to making her come, using every little trick he knew to get her there, and inventing a couple more along the way; namely the flex of his hips and the delicious grind of that big, thick knot.
God, she couldn't take it; orgasm hovering on the horizon, drawing her whole body into a tense arch, toes curling and hands holding even tighter to his dense fur, hovering on that precipice until—
"Ah! Ah!"
Her pleasure finally crested, tingling warmth spreading up from her pussy to fill her whole body in a delicious wave, Betelgeuse’s insistent tongue staying steady on her clit despite the way she shook and spasmed.
“Good girl.” His moaned praise made her clench, literally drawing her orgasm out, her body writhing and gasping, a chain reaction that made the both of them moan and shiver.
Still he didn’t stop until she whimpered, her hand leaving his side to land on his snout, overwhelmed by the continual stimulation and in desperate need to come down. He thankfully listened to her wordless plea, one last lick over her clit, then down her folds, tasting again where they were joined with a pleasured hum before moving his head to rest on her knee.
Quiet—just faint sounds of insects and other nighttime critters in the woods; the wildlife apparently back to their evening routines, seeming to have decided that the Big Bad Wolf that was suddenly in their midst was too busy to try to eat them.
Lydia felt light and heavy at the same time, aching and relaxed, post-orgasm haze turning her brain into a floating cloud. She took a long breath in through her nose, then out through her mouth, turning her head limply into the side of his neck, the abundance of fur strangely comforting, pulling her to pet her hands over his face and head. He made a rumbly sound, clearly content to let her do it, letting out a long sigh of his own.
“I can’t believe you punched me,” he suddenly said.
His offended comment broke the lull in Lydia’s brain; jesus, she had punched him, hadn’t she?
“Oh my god,” she murmured, turning her face further into his neck in mild embarrassment. “God, I totally did. I don’t even know where that came from.”
“My prey decided to fight,” he said, lifting his head from her knee to look at her, amusement clear even with his canine features. “On second thought, might have to scare that response outta you again, it was kinda hot.”
Lydia just chortled, running her hands over his face and head again, then pulling him in to press a chaste kiss to the side of his snout.
“You’re on, tough guy.”
His lips pulled back from his fangs, an inhuman, toothy grin that made Lydia shiver in all the right ways.
He was her monster alright; and she did so love to see his teeth.