"It is a lovely night," Harold Talbot said as he rested his head on a folded blanket. The full moon in the clear sky lit the world. The weather was warm, the grass beneath him was soft, and Gwendolyn lay beside him. All was right with the world.
Harold was a barrister and despite the jokes enjoyed his job. Large framed and large handed with gentle brown eyes that prevented anyone from actually fearing him. Someday soon he would make partner in the firm then perhaps become a high court judge. Perhaps with enough time Harold Talbot would represent Cardiff in the House of Commons.
But tonight he was with Gwen and everything was perfect.
Turning his head Harold found her staring at him. Her blue eyes seemed to drill down into his soul. Gwen's long golden hair was braided and pinned under her hat. Propped up on one elbow the moonlight threw her hourglass waist into sharp relief.
"Yes, a lovely night." He repeated.
Silently Gwen reached out and opened his collar. One by one her trim fingers opened the buttons of his shirt displaying Harold's unmarked chest. Rolling over she straddled him and flicked her soft tongue over his nipples.
"Darling." He reached up and pulled the pins from her air. The hat tumbled to the ground with a wave of blonde hair following.
Gwen lifted her head from him. Her hands parted the buttons of her dress. Gently opening it to reveal the garments beneath. Harold thought it looked like a rose opening. As she reduced herself to wearing bra and panties.
Harold sat up and with both hands untied her panties. Gwen stood and let him slid the garment down her legs. In the moonlight he stared at the soft blonde hair around her sex. Reaching down she ran a finger over herself.
Lust welled up in Harold. He grabbed Gwen's waist and threw her to the ground. Crawling onto his belly he buried his face in her pussy. Fierce short licks at her sex. Forcing himself forward as if he could crawl inside her. His hands moved down his body fighting and clawing that the buttons of his trousers. Popping them loose into the bracken.
Harold kicked off his trousers letting his cock stand free and erect in the night air. Eight straight inches of throbbing eager flesh. He stood and pointed it at Gwen like a wand.
She sat up bringing her lips level with him. Not thinking his hands wrapped around the back of her head. Harold thrust forward burying the whole of his cock in her mouth with one stroke. She gagged deep in her throat. He didn't hear it as he pulled his cock back and pounded in and out her mouth. Each thrust more desperate than the last.
Almost enraged Harold pulled out. Gwen stared at him with eyes he didn't bother to read. Drool spilled from her lips. Breathing heavily she laid back as if knowing what came next.
Harold took the invitation. Grabbing her legs he hoisted them and impaled her on his length with one swift stroke. Gwendolyn Lloyd was tight and wet around his cock. For a moment he was still. Then this tightness was not enough. Slowly he began to thrust and pull back, thrust and pull back. He held her legs and rocked his hips. Beneath him Gwen let out a low sound that might have been a moan.
Harold knew something was wrong. But the feeling of wrongness was stamped down by the hunger. The need to have her drove him forward. In a frenzy he fucked her for minutes, hours, days. He didn't know. All Harold knew was that he had to keep going.
Like an electric shock he spasmed inside her. Harold felt his seed flood her. Suddenly tired he dropped her legs and laid on top of her. Gwen's breasts smashed against his chest. She looked up at him with a certain satisfaction.
Without warning a fit wracked Harold's body. Gwen's eyes filled with fear. Harold looked down at hands covered with thick gray hair. He tried to shout a warning, but only a growl passed his lips. In his mouth unfamiliar teeth ended in points.
Gwen tried to pull away. Harold's body, no longer under his control, pressed her down. Forcing her shoulders into the sod. Filled with savage hunger his jaws closed around her throat.
Beneath him Gwen cried out.
Harold woke up shivering and ashamed. Around him the wagon gently swayed. Hanging pots and pans bumped against the wooden walls. The window in the rear door was open let in a few rays of the setting sun.
"A dream," Harold told himself. "Only a dream. It never happened like that. Nothing ever happened like that."
He'd left Wales before anything like that could happen. The wolf had attacked him and then he'd fled. Run from Cardiff and his future and the lovely Gwendolyn Lloyd. Run before he could hurt anyone or end up in her father's asylum.
Feeling suddenly constrained Harold pushed the blankets away and put on his boots. It was an easy business unlatching the door and hopping out of the wagon. Latching the door he jogged to catch up to the horses.
"You had a nightmare," Maleva said from the driver's bench. The top of her head was covered with a yellow bandana that did nothing to conceal the curly brown hair that hung to her mid-back. She was slim legged, slim armed, and her bodice strained against her breasts. Harold would have thought Maleva Demeter to be a dancer instead of a cunning woman.
Harold joined her on the bench. "Did your gypsy intuition tell you?"
She smiled at him. "You screamed."
"Sorry."
"It is alright." Maleva rested one hand on his. "It was good that you slept at all."
"Do you want me to take the reins for a bit, Maleva? Let you have a nap."
"No, we'll reach the village in a kilometer or two and then roads the castle. Not a good time for a nap."
"Frankenstein," Harold said the name as he looked out at the village skyline. There was one building in the village more than three stories tall and that one looked like the contractor had lost his level. A train was stopped at the station, smoking and eager. Beyond the village up on the hill was the castle with one lonely tower. "They say the Frankensteins are scientists of wide experience."
"They say the Frankensteins are mad." Maleva corrected him. "There are many reasons no camp of travelers tries to stay in Frankenstein."
"The monster?"
"And the burgomeister. He places taxes on us and arrests one from every band that camps here. Usually for crimes committed before they arrived."
Harold nodded. "Well he can't touth us at the castle. I hope Dr. Frankenstein can devise a cure."
"Oh Harold, I pray that Dr. Frankenstein's cure will not be worse than your curse."
"It can't be."
As they drove through the village Harold saw why proof of Maleva's words about Frankenstein village. The villagers who looked at the wagon did it with hard stares. Everyone else made it a point not to look at them at all. A motor truck took special care to rev its engine as the horses passed. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when they crossed the bridge out of the village.
The road to the castle was full of turns and switchbacks. But the main gate to the courtyard was open and showed no signs of recent closure. As they came inside he caught a glimpse into the stable where a shiny black automobile sat with one engine cover open.
Harold's heart raced as he leapt from the bench. Maleva barely had time to bring the horses to a stop. More cautiously she followed him to the doors. Massive slabs of oak with heavy iron knockers.
Harold grasped one of the rings and pulled it back. Maleva grabbed his wrist. He stopped and followed her gaze to a tasteful plaque beside the door and the button below it.