Steamy Screams: Anthology of Erotic Horror

THE HUNTRESS Emily Veinglory

Her breasts felt full in that way that meant her blood had started. We had our usual conversation.

“No, not this time of the month… ”

Indeed, I rarely saw Phoebe at all when she was menstruating; it was as if she was observing some strange ritual of seclusion when she bled. How it infuriated me to see her least when I wanted her most.

She simply did not understand. Although I kept raising the issue, I never pressed it. Phoebe was a bright, beautiful and passionate girl and I had no desire to lose her. But when she left and I heard the shower come on with its muffled patter, it occurred to me that the shower was the perfect place, clean, warm and her naked within.

I dropped my clothes in the hall and stepped into the murky bathroom, it was small and full of steam. When I stepped into the small shower stall, she looked over her shoulder. A slight frown creased her pale forehead, but she did not rebuff me.

I felt the soft weight of her breasts in my hands as I kissed her delicate neck. Her new, short haircut bristled against my cheek. Every day she seemed to be moving to push her femininity further away, even as I treasured it more.

I let my right hand drift down to her hip and, as I drew her close, my index finger slid over her mound of Venus and into the top lip of her labia. I knew her body well; I found the soft, small nub of her clitoris and stoked it firmly with the rough pad of my fingertip. Her whole body softened as my own cock hardened. I could feel the slickness of her menstrual blood even as the water ran down my hand and washed it away.

I moved around in front of her and she moaned a soft complaint, but went quiet again as I dropped my head to bite and suck softly on her nipple. The shower water hit the back of my head, but as I knelt, I descended into the foggy zone below the spray.

Phoebe stiffened a little, she had not wanted this, but she was not going to stop me. My firm tongue delved as my finger had, caressing the soft ripples of flesh and the nub of the clitoris. Phoebe arched her back and spread her legs for me. I leaned in and put my hand around the back of her thighs, nestled under her buttocks and kneading the flesh rhythmically. I lengthened the strokes of my tongue, moving toward the top of her vagina.

The flesh here was less fresh, tainted with the warm elixir of her blood. I thanked God that she had not yet cleaned herself. Whilst I always returned to the clitoris, I probed deeper into the vagina. Soft clots and strings of blood slid under my questing tongue. The mixed musk of her excitement and her blood made me drunk. My nose against the soft burr of her clipped hair, the moist air awash with scents, and the taste of her, like syrup of port wine laced with sea salt.

My desires were sated as her passion peeked, a moment of mutual perfection. It was somehow surprising to find myself back in our small tatty bathroom, with my disheveled girlfriend collapsing into my arms.

For a few days, I saw little of Phoebe, and when she finally reappeared, she was terse, firm-breasted and somehow different in her manner. She was unusually attentive; normally, it had been I who paid court to her–and she was almost indifferent at times. For a while, she was rarely from my side and always keen to let me have her way. I was cautious around her with her strange new moods. Almost a month passed with this peculiar tension in the air until one night, all became clear.

“How do you feel?” she asked at night as we lay in bed together.

“Fine,” I said, pulling her close.

I hadn’t pulled the curtain over the sliding door into the back garden. The glass door overlooked my small lawn and the wooded defile beyond it. The full moon was all but shuttered by busy, scudding clouds. For a moment, the clouds parted and the clear, pale light washed over us.

Sudden passion washed over me and I pulled her close. She kissed me back hard with a clash of teeth, as if she felt the same.

She pulled back… “I was afraid of this,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

She slipped out of bed and I watched her trim body as she went to the door. She unlocked it and pushed it a little ajar.

“What are you up to?” I chided.

“You will see… ”

As she turned, I saw strange tensions shiver across her skin. Her neck and stomach jumped with muscles that didn’t seem like they should move in that way and her skin absorbed the moon and took on its uncanny glow. I felt a sudden ache, a cramp across my whole body from my shoulders to the soles of my feet. Suddenly, I smelt the unmistakable tang of blood, sharper than I ever had before.

“It’s time,” she said.

She beckoned to me like a pale siren, limned by the beguiling light of the moon—now quite unveiled.

“I tried to tell you,” she said. “I did not mean for this to happen. But it does with some—with men like you.”

As I stood, I felt the bones and the muscles of my legs distort and change, but somehow this did not seem wrong—only more right. My skin pickled with heat, with fine hairs as they emerged uncannily. I saw the pelt appear upon my arms and the backs of my hands as I reached for her. But even as I almost reached her I fell, unable to stay upright. I fell upon my paws.

I heard wolf song upon the wind, as the others came, the others that had fallen for sweet Phoebe’s musky blood. A big black wolf shouldered the door open and they all came in, greeting me with nose and tongue as one of them. There was no jealously amongst her followers as we would never again be her lovers, never again be human men–but something more.

Phoebe went out onto the lawn and I went with the others, joyfully sniffing the rich autumn air.

“Now… ” she said.

… the air said, as the baying of my brothers said, as the whispering trees said…

“Now, we hunt.”

She ran ahead of us under the cover of the trees, but we were next to her in moment. I felt strong and I went into the lead—my keen nose skimmed the ground, searching for the subtle scent of our night’s prey. Anticipation ran through my body and my teeth ached. I could almost feel the warm blood in my mouth from the killing bite.

Phoebe laughed joyfully as she ran with uncanny swiftness amongst us and I determined that I would be the one to make the kill and bring the prey back to my glorious mistress. I howled for joy as I led them all into the deep, sparkling forest.