Chapter 1 - The Full Moon

Lorafaen frowned, legs crossed as she sat alone in the manor, no servants busied themselves in her quarters, and the only noise that filled the room was the dim crackling of the hearth. This night, as with many, she would be unable to share her bed. Her mate, Valandras, the werewolf lord of this land, had once more locked himself in his reinforced - and supposedly secret - basement for the day. She knew that even now the transformation must be underway, or fully complete - she had never been privy to it before, but the moon shone bright in the sky. 


She rose, setting aside the book she had been reading through, and strode purposefully towards her destination, lantern in hand. She would not go to bed alone tonight, she would not awake to an empty bedside tomorrow morning - for years she had resisted her curiosity, but tonight she could no longer. A single lantern lit her way as she walked through the halls of the manor, her voluptuous hips swaying beneath her thin garments. Tonight she would feel her lover's embrace, werewolf or human.


She knew, of course, that he had expressly forbidden her from such action, and that she herself had helped design the cellar in which he locked himself every full moon. She knew all too well the tendencies of lycanthropes, the madness of the wolf’s blood, and that what she was doing was terribly dangerous.


And yet the burning in her loins drove her onwards, danger and peril be damned - neither she nor Valandras would spend the night alone. Her sorceress’ attire had been discarded in favor of a gown of sheer silk whose thin fabric hugged her curves, accentuating her full figure. 


She reached the gloomy staircase that lead to the fortified cellar wherein Valandras waited, and with a deep breath, began to descend. No servants made their way through the halls, and the wan light of the candle flame within her lantern was all that illuminated her surroundings. Her footsteps echoed throughout the empty halls, and with every step she drew closer to the foreboding arched doorway. 


Runes and inscriptions crisscrossed the stonework, and good old fashioned steel bars jutted from the oaken doors. A thick mist seemed to occluded any image of the door itself, and were any scrying mages to peer in, they would find an impenetrable wall in their path. She herself had helped weave some of these reinforcements, and as she concentrated, her free hand outstretched as she worked her way through the myriad of protections, it became ever clearer to her how foolish she was being. In lustful desperation she pushed on - she would not spend another night alone, to wake up to a cold bedside, not this night.


She closed her eyes, drawing one final deep breath before she forged on anew, dismantling the last of the enchantments and spells that protected the door. The fog surrounding cleared, and a small click sounded throughout the stairway, followed by a heavy series of metallic clunks that reverberated around her. Heavy locking bars, forged and enchanted - they would stop a charging elephant dead in its tracks. The door swung open and she stepped inside, waving a hand to shut it tightly behind her.


A low growl sounded from somewhere ahead in the gloom, and as her eyes slowly adjusted, a dark shadow loomed ahead of her. The dismal light of her candle seemed all the fainter as she stared, her heart thudding in her chest and feet paralyzed. This had been a mistake - this had been a terrible, terrible mistake, and she would pay the price for her foolishness. The growl sounded again, louder. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she slowly began to backpedal, hand groping in the darkness for a latch or doorknob to free herself from her folly.


The shadow - a hunched over, indistinct mass - heightened suddenly, and her ears were filled with the deafening, heart stopping sound of a werewolf’s howl. In the confined space of this cellar, the sound echoed and reverberated throughout, unable to escape, and her heart pounded against her ribcage. The beast crouched down to all fours and barreled towards her, eyes flashing in the dim light of the candle, and teeth bared. 


Lorafaen braced herself, knowing what was to come. She did not close her eyes - if death was to take her, she would do it standing. 


The sound of paws upon the stone grew louder, and suddenly Valandras was upon her, maw agape and teeth flashing. Her nerves failed her, and she shut her eyes - but death did not come. Instead, she felt heat, and opening her eyes, she recoiled involuntarily. Looming over her, stretched out to his full height, stood Valandras. She never knew how much of him remained conscious during the full moon, but as she stared at him, transfixed, she glimpsed him within. 


“Valandras…?” She murmured, hand tentatively outstretched. “Are… are you in there?”


He looked down at her, eyes alive with a glint of intelligence and… something familiar. She gulped - what if she was wrong?


Without warning, he grabbed her - a massive paw curling around her waist and wrenching her into the air. Lorafaen’s composure failed her, and she screamed in fright, a loud, shrill sound that mixed with the echoes of lupine howling. Frozen in fear, she stared slack jawed as Valandras brought her to eye level with him, sniffing at her. A low, almost petulant whining sound reached her ears, and after a moment, Lorafaen realized it came from the werewolf holding her. She frowned, and a long silence elapsed between them as she searched for some confirmation that her lover was there, aware of things in some way. 


Her heart pounded within her chest, blood rushed in her ears - what was about to happen to her? The risk of being eaten had passed - of that she was reasonably sure. But what else might happen? That uncertainty terrified her. Silence grew between the two of them, and as it stretched into minutes, she hesitantly reached out to him, her fingers trailing along his snout and jowls. “Valandras…?” She murmured, eyes wide as she stared at him. 


She sensed something pushing at her waist, and looked down, her jaw dropping open at the sight. She had long fantasized about what he might be like as a werewolf, surely a lycanthrope would be proportionally endowed. But the long, girthy shaft poking at her belly now defied even her wildest expectations. Easily a foot long, and of comparable thickness - and as it pushed against her, Lorafaen became keenly aware of her clothing. She had eschewed undergarments, and the silken gown was all that adorned her skin. Nothing stood between the hungry, pulsing shaft below her and her loins. 


Lorafaen had no control of the situation - and slowly, as she realized what was going to happen, she began to like it. It was obvious - she had come here seeking Valandras, pining for the warmth of her lover. And it seemed she would get that and so much more. He began to rub up against her, massive lupine shaft brushing against her eager clitoris and plump labia. Her body reacted on its own, electric rivers of pleasure snaking their way up her spine, and she shuddered, moaning involuntarily at the sensation. She reached out, brushing her hand along the side of his face - the feeling was so alien, the massive, red shaft that parted her lips and brushed against her skin felt wholly different to her lover’s normal self. But she could not deny that she relished the sensation. There was something primal, base, a bestial lust that welled up within her - she wanted this, she needed this.


And then Valandras ceased his rubbing, he growled, a low, hungry sound - and she could feel him shifting his weight, and she realized what was about to happen. 


He was gentler than she expected, slowly easing his shaft into her. Her eyes screwed shut - there was pain, the sheer size of his shaft stretching her wider than she had ever dreamed was possible. But with the pain, his cock pushing her walls apart with ease, there was pleasure, her body aching to feel that shaft fill her entirely. She moaned, clenching her teeth tightly, toes curling at the sensation. 

He slowed, another low growl rumbling in his chest - and slowly, Lorafaen recovered, taking a deep breath. For a moment they were still, and she looked up at him - there was a spark of concern in those bestial eyes, and she smiled at him. “Please, my love.” She murmured, “It hurts yes - but I need this. Don’t stop.”


Whether he truly understood her, Lorafaen could tell her intent was clear to him. Perhaps, after all these years they shared some deeper connection, or perhaps her lust and need for her lover’s touch was something almost tangible. Valandras growled, and began to slide himself deeper inside her, clawed hands grasping her tightly. His shaft, its girth greater than she could truly comprehend, pushed ahead with relentless purpose. The sensation was intoxicating, and the air filled with her awed moaning, her mind scarcely able to handle the sensory overload. 


Her lover’s bestial energy, lust, and power overwhelmed her, and she wanted nothing more than to match him, to provide worthy company for the night. She grit her teeth, eyes flashing with determination as she reached out, grabbing hold of his shoulder to anchor herself, and began to move her body in tandem with him. She moaned aloud, shutting her eyes tight as she worked her hips, pushing his cock ever deeper inside her. 


At last, with a low, powerful growl of dominance, Valandras had hilted himself almost as far he could go inside her - the tip of his shaft brushed against the entrance to her womb. His thick, swollen knot pressed tightly against her outer entrance. Lorafaen trembled, her muscles jelly as she quivered in the intoxicating deluge of sensations that flooded her mind and body. 


With a deep breath, Lorafaen renewed her grip, and flashed a wide smile to her lupine lover. “Now, ravish me you big lump.” She purred, gyrating her hips around his shaft. “Fuck me like the magnificent beast you are!”


At her words, Valandras moved with a speed and intensity that caught her completely off guard. He withdrew from her, and slammed back into place with a force that shook her entire body. Her breasts and buttocks jiggled madly, and she let out a yelp of surprise and pleasure. With no time to recover or even process the wave of sensation, he pulled out and slammed home inside her again, and again, and again. Speed and tempo increasing with every thrust until his body moved like a piston of divine strength, rocking her body with his thrusting as he hammered his cock into her. The air filled with the sounds of carnal delight and animalistic grunting, Lorafaen’s helpless moans of pleasure mixing with Valandras’ bestial growls. Her mind was awash in a sea of sensations she had never felt before - he was so big, so strong, so powerful - her body was but a toy to him and she loved every second of it. 


Her grip tightened, knuckles whitening as she sought some anchor to hold herself steady, the raw power of his thrusts threatening to break her grip altogether, to leave her a limp toy in his hands as he emptied years of pent up arousal. A caged beast, unable to live by his instincts in the captivating power of the full moon, he would breed his mate tonight - but first, she knew, he would pour every ounce of unsatisfied lust and carnal energy into her body. “Harder, my love!” She moaned, desperate to aid him, she needed to feel every iota of warmth she had gone without on those lonely moonlit nights. 


Valandras’ thrusts soon became more wild, erratic, the firm, powerful rhythm he had built up beginning to change. His motions had less control, and Lorafaen knew what it meant. His heavy testicles, swollen with the seed of many moons unsatiated, slapped against her with every thrust, a potent reminder of what was imminent. Her moans grew in frequency, her body bracing itself for the first seeding of the night. “Yes!” She cried to him, “Give it to me! I want it all!”


As if in response to her cries, Valandras hilted himself deep inside, the tip of his shaft once more brushing against the entrance to her womb. He lifted his head and howled aloud to the heavens, the deafening noise reverberating around the small room. Lorafaen knew what it meant, and she pulled herself in close to him, ready to accept the fruit of his loins. 


With uncontrolled, desperate motion Valandras jerked his hips, thick torrents of potent lupine seed pouring forth from him, flooding every nook and crevice of Lorafaen’s innermost depths. Her womb filled to the brim with his powerful bursts of cum, and her back arched in pleasure, her own hips jerking spasmodically in response. An instinctive need to breed, if such a thing were possible between them as he was, to spread her legs wide and welcome every drop of thick, sticky baby batter into her womb.


Lorafaen panted, her chest heaving in great movements - sweat beaded along her forehead and her muscles ached from the strain of holding herself in place. Werewolf cum leaked from between her legs, coating Valandras’ cock and dripping down to the floor. She smiled weakly at him, resting her head upon his muscular chest. 


But Valandras was not done. He growled again, different than before, and his grip loosened slightly. He slid from her, a thick torrent of cum pouring from her as his cock swung free, and set her down upon the ground, looming over her. Lorafaen’s eyes widened as she saw that, contrary to herself, he seemed fully ready and eager for a round two, his throbbing phallus still rock solid and eager. 


Slowly, almost gingerly, as if taking care not to scare or harm her, he lowered himself into place, one massive hand moving to spread her legs apart as he lined himself up. Despite herself, Lorafaen smiled, doing her best to work with him - her body ached from the rigors of the first round of fucking. She felt a renewed vigor fill her at the thought of a second session, and she lifted her body slightly, propping herself up on an elbow as she took in the sight above her. “I’m ready.” She murmured to him, for whatever it was worth. “As long as you are.”


With another low, almost possessive growl, he slid himself inside her once more. It was not as strenuous as the first time, her loins slick with the combined juices of lovemaking. Her own fluids would have made entrance easy for him by now, but the sticky, slippery cum that coated her from womb to inner thighs gave further lubrication. The head of his turgid member made easy progress into her, and once more he had bottomed out inside her, the tip of his shaft just barely brushing against her freshly seeded cervix. 


At a silent nod from her, he withdrew, and Lorafaen felt the terrible emptiness sink down upon her - only to be dashed as he thrust back inside her, his motion shaking her entire body once more. She let out a moan, eyes sliding closed as she lay down upon the wooden floor, her hands moving to her breasts, massaging and groping the soft, sensitive tissue. She had no power here, her werewolf lover held all control, and it was all Lorafaen could do to relax herself as much as possible and bask in the pulsing heat of arousal and pleasure that his rhythmic thrusting filled her with.


Time seemed to have no meaning to her, Valandras’ rhythmic, powerful thrusting was all that she could focus on. Her hair lay scattered about her head, tangled and streaked with sweat from the first round of fucking, and from her current exertions. In and out he moved, his girth bulging her stomach out with every motion, every thrust showing a clear sign of how deeply he would stake his claim once more. Lorafaen’s moans rose up in time with the deep pounding thrusts he gave her, her back arched in pleasure and eyes screwed tightly shut in sublime ecstasy. The thick, heavy sound and sensation of his virile testicles slapping against her rear sent shivers of delight through her. Her shoulders shook with excitement and joy as he plunged ever deeper inside her, the tip of his shaft just barely kissing her fertile womb with every thrust.


The hot, wet heat building in her loins drove Lorafaen’s mind to near madness. Valandras’ shaft was relentless, thick, powerful, pulsing with virile energy and the will to seed her womb. Every thrust elicited a helpless cry of pure pleasure, her hands clenched in tight fists, eyes half lidded in lustful ardor. Her whole body was awash in the rich, overpowering carnal energy that seemed to infuse them both. Divine, almost inconceivable heights of pleasure and desperate hunger for her lover’s seed spurred her on, and with every thrust her moaning grew louder, wilder. Lorafaen knew her own climax was approaching, her body working independent of her mind to maximize her pleasure. The muscles of her vagina clenched and slackened, clenched and slackened, in a feverish rhythm of pure feminine need for cock.


Lorafaen felt it coming, looming tantalizingly just beyond her grasp. Her hands dug into her breasts and massaged her clitoris with a passion matched only by her love for the man… werewolf breeding her now. She moaned, intensifying her self ministrations, needing to bring herself to climax. Her entire world revolved around it now, the building tidal wave that would crash over her and bathe her in carnal bliss. 


Valandras’ motions showed no signs of slowing, no indication that he tired or felt fatigue. His furious, body shaking thrusting continued unabated - Lorafaen couldn’t take it anymore. Her mind went blank, her toes curling, a blinding nova of ecstasy erupting in her loins and cascading across her body. Every molecule of her body was awash in indescribable earthly delight, every fiber of her being was carried along in the tidal wave. Her back arched, electric bolts of pleasure arcing throughout her body. She let out a long, loud moan of pure delight, her need, pent up for so many months at long last satiated. 


It seemed as though her orgasm would last for a small eternity. Valandras’ rough, rhythmic thrusting showed no signs of stopping, and it was all Lorafaen could do to lie there, taking his massive cock as she lay helpless in the throes of mind numbing orgasm. The white hot heat of unimaginable pleasure burned away any sense of decorum, any last vestiges of restraint - and she gave herself wholly to her lupine lover’s lascivious lusts. A raw, animal need overcame her, and even as she basked in the dying fires of orgasm, her moans grew louder. 


Valandras’ thrusts only grew faster - it was obvious that, even through the haze of bestial transformation and unrefined primal need to breed, he could sense the subtle changes in her demeanor. His thrusting grew yet more powerful, slamming home into his tiefling mate with incredible power and force. Her body was rocked, breasts jiggling wildly and buttocks only slightly less so. Every thrust elicited a moan of pleasure from Lorafaen. Every wet smack made her grope her breasts more tightly. Every single action he undertook in his quest to breed her once more was reciprocated in its passion and lust. And as his thrusting started to once more became jagged and erratic, losing the rhythmic motion, it became clear he would fill his mate once more that night.


Lorafaen’s moans reached a new high as she called aloud her pleasure, begging to be seeded once again with every breath she took. In those moments, her nether regions stretched wide by a cock larger than she thought impossible for her to take, her entire body nothing but a sheath to a werewolf’s sword, she could think of nothing but the powerful thrusting that sent tremors throughout her very being. Her mind was blank of all but her need for his seed, her emotions a plateau of excited lust. She needed him, her body worked every muscle it had, squeezing, clenching, tightening around his shaft as she desperately worked to milk the seed from his loins. 


With a force wholly inhuman, indeed one that Lorafaen could scarce believe was of this world, Valandras slammed home one final time, his shaft erupting with a final burst of thick, potent semen. It burst forth, flooding through her cervix, painting her womb white with his thick batter. His shaft pulsed, torrents of cum coursing through it and into the exhausted Tiefling lying spent upon the dungeon floor. Her entire being was rocked with the shudders of Valandras’ powerful orgasm, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt his seed spill from her, pooling onto the floor of the room beneath her. Still he came further, a seemingly endless supply of the stuff pumped into her. With a final, triumphant howl of dominance and pleasure, he pushed further into her, his swollen knot lodging itself inside her, plugging up every single drop that remained as he at last emptied himself fully into her fertile womb. The tip of his shaft pressed firmly against her cervix, a deep sensation of warmth, security, and an indescribable fullness swept through her, and she relaxed with a muffled sigh of pleasure and satisfaction. 


Lorafaen lay there, time meaningless to her as she basked in dazed, post orgasmic warmth. She knew not how much time was passing - it could have been minutes, it could have been hours - she was immobile, trapped with the thick werewolf knot inside her. It held her to him, ensuring every single drop of seed stayed in her, an alpha breeding his bitch, staying inside her as long as needed. She did not mind in the slightest, the sensation of his bulk beside - and inside - her gave her a strange sense of comfort and security. Certainly, no harm would come to her here, wrapped in the arms of her lover - wolfish as he may be. She sighed contentedly, nestling herself against him. The slow ticking of a clock she hadn’t even noticed before droned on, marking away the seconds that passed. It all blended together for her, an indistinct mass of time as Valandras slowly, ever so slowly, deflated inside her. The last vestiges of his pent up lustful energy seeming to drain away into her. 


With a start, she realized that it was not just his shaft that shrank within her - the werewolf… man was reverting to normal. It dawned on her that she must have spent hours, perhaps even the entire night down below with him. At first she felt a surge of panic - what would happen if he awoke to her in his arms? It would be plainly obvious she had ignored his warnings - then, as she looked around, she realized it would be a fool’s errand to attempt to flee and hide what she had done. Evidence of their doings was evident throughout the room. Thick, cold layers of semen lay on the floor in ropey strands, her gown - cast aside and similarly covered, his own body splattered in small amounts as well. She knew it would be futile to even attempt such action, and resolved herself to face whatever might come. 


It was then, as she turned to press herself against his prostrate form once more and drift away into sleep beside him, that Lorafaen realized he was awake, staring at her. She gulped, noticing how his eyes moved rapidly from her, to her nakedness, his own disheveled state, the sexual fluids coating her and the floor nearby, the discarded gown and candle, and her surprised expression. For what seemed a small eternity to her as her heart thudded in her chest, he said nothing, merely taking in what lay before him. Then with a soft, even voice he spoke to her. “We are going to have a very serious talk about this later today, my love.” His voice was music to her ears, a sweet melody. He continued, “You could have been badly hurt - or worse. Do you have any idea how dangerous that wa-” Cutting himself off, he sighed deeply. “We will talk later. Come, I’ve missed your warmth.”


Wrapping his arm around her he lay back in the position he had woken in - upon a plain, but comfortable cot lay in the corner of the cellar. Wrapping his arm tightly around her, Lorafaen felt him pulling her in close, and she turned, her front to his. Gently placing her own arm around him, she gently placed her lips on his cheek, drifting away with him. 


