The Werewolf Diaries

A single street lamp lights the sidewalk in front of Baron Don The Gorgon's magnificent estate. Inside the fourteen feet Roth iron black gate is a short driveway, paved in seventeen century inspired cobblestones about hundred meters long. The Victorian styled mansion boasts huge windows, a sprawling wrap around front porch, and is three stories high. The fog feels eerie, and the warm misty air makes breathing a little difficult for those whose lungs are not up to the task. The mansion is barely noticeable from the street with its black draperies preventing as much as a flicker of light from escaping in the daylight. But at night when the draperies are drawn open they come alive glowing, illuminating almost the entire estate. Tonight though, the light seem to have vanished, and the atmosphere is one of dread and gloom. The misty fog hides most of the structure, except for the diffused porch light. Something terrible has happened, the first of many on this dreadful night. A full moon painted in crimson red dominates the sky, a blood moon to some, others call it the moon of the dire werewolf. Legend says once it appears all those whom its light is shone upon are doomed, marked as food, a feast for the beast.    
 
A white owl hoots in the distant, the trees crackle, then nothing is heard. Except this mortifying sound.         
       
Awooooooooooooooooooooof.        
       
His eyes, terrifying yet thrilling are set upon her like a eagle eyeing his prey. "Oh my Mr. Wolf you are both frightening and arousing all at once." Her voice and body trembling with fear and excitement. He growls deep and slow, his mouth drooling as he licks his chops, saliva oozes to the wet pavement. "Well, well, you are looking quite mannish aren't you Wolfie." His fur stands raised as he approaches, his head lowers but his gaze is fixed. Eyeing the size of her voluptuous bosoms encased in wet shiny black leather, and dreams of reveling in their fatty tissue to keep him warm on cold wintry nights. He Rubs the side of his warm muscular body on her lower legs, she feel the thickness of his ribs and hip. He sniffs the ground beneath her feet then up her legs before finally placing his nose between her legs growling loudly. She excretes her human pheromones and catches his attention. His nostrils flare wide open and eyes light up like wildfire, his loins swells hanging low boiling with heat. He can smell her sweet flowery scent of Jasmine marinating her raw flesh through the leather catsuit. A delicious meal to be had this night he thought to himself. Her heart pounds with uncertainty. Scared? No! not scared at all. She feels intrigued, hot, moist and throbbing with want and lust. She swallows saliva while stealthily attempting to cross her legs hoping that he would relinquish his position. But he is strong and has nested himself quite comfortably in a most favorable spot. There will be no retreating now that he has gained the advantage. He presses his nose harder inwards, the leather crinkles. Her heart races, thumping loud enough for her to hear it in her eardrums. Her entire body shakes then quivers, surrendering her futile attempt as she opens her legs a little bit wider, becoming increasingly soiled. "I wants to look into your cold vicious eyes before you do what you must, what I want and need you to do. She reaches down grabbing underneath his massive jaw, he opens his mouth showcasing his glorious flesh eating fangs, ready to tear her pink sensation apart. Her reflection outlined in red, a beautiful crimson catch light in his soulless eyes. "This would be a good way to die if I should be so lucky for once in my wretched life..."