Locked In 3

Amanda flattened herself against the wall, ducking out of sight of her quarry. This was

ridiculous

.

This isn't who I am, I swear.

Amanda was the sane girlfriend: she respected boundaries, didn't go through her boyfriend's phone or messenger, didn't stalk him on social media, and didn't warn other girls to 'stay away from her man'. She was an enlightened, open-minded, twenty first century girl. But

god

this was driving her crazy. She had to know.

She had been dating Jacob for three months, and it was mostly great -

really

great, actually. He was sweet and sensitive, tall and good looking, fun loving yet oddly intense. He was also

hot

, with a tall, muscular build despite eating twice as much as a normal person and doing no discernible exercise (apart from an hour of yoga per day). His dark-brown hair was shoulder length and kept tied in a ponytail (great to grab onto during sexy times), and his eyes were a cool, complex blue, so subtle and mysterious that she could lose themselves in them - which she often did, to his embarrassment. His adorable, red-faced embarrassment.

She was no slouch herself, of course: a five-foot ten bombshell, with a subtle hourglass figure tempered by lots of exercise, generous d-cups, and long, lustrous black hair. Her green eyes were bright and inquisitive, and often captured the attention of guys, just as they had with Jacob. On top of her killer body, she also had a great personality - engaging, outgoing, understanding - affectionate without being clingy. Well, until now. She was a capable, independent woman and a fun-loving, easy-going girlfriend. She

knew

she was - and Jacob seemed to agree. All in all, it was going

great

.

There was only one problem: his monthly

appointments

. While she and Jacob were quite intensely

into

each other, they still did their own stuff. She liked running, rock climbing, and going to the cinema, while he liked to read and play games with his friends. They spent plenty of time apart, so she hadn't picked up on the fact that, a couple of nights a month, always around the same time, he would be... unavailable. She might not have noticed it if it hadn't been for a text she received from Stacey, her most gossipy girlfriend.

Just saw Jacob heading thru town into the old ind. estate. He get a job there?

Amanda had frowned. Jacob had told her that he was going to a gaming night with some friends that day - something first person shootery, she thought. Whatever it was, they sure as hell weren't playing it out on the old, half-abandoned industrial estate on the edge of town. Once a district of bustling, smoking factories, the place was now mostly uninhabited, only a scattering of rusting warehouses seeing any use.

She had asked where he had been, after last month, and he had 'reminded' her that he had been gaming with some friends. "Oh, yeah," she had said, as if she had just forgotten. When she'd noticed the bruises on his back during their (admittedly very energetic) lovemaking that night, she hadn't said anything. But when next month rolled around - October, the heart of the autumn season - he had responded to her suggestion that they go to a costume party with "oh, uh - I said I'd hang out with the guys that night." She had been annoyed enough that her need to know had surpassed her need to be a respectful, modern girlfriend.

Her best theory was a kinky sex thing. It had to be, right? Sneaking away to an abandoned area full of derelict buildings for a night, coming back looking tired and covered in bruises, yet somehow ready for a romp in the sack? Amanda wasn't a prude - she had experimented with BDSM during her university years, after being introduced to it by her boyfriend of the time - who liked to be tied up and spanked, she had been shocked to discover. Jacob didn't strike her as someone who liked to be dominated - still, how could you tell? There were lots of stories about powerful, wealthy business executives paying top dollar for an evening where they didn't have to think about anything except

pleasing the mistress

.

Over the next month, she had dropped some subtle hints. Maybe she might be open to trying some stuff. She understood that you couldn't always get everything you needed from one person. How did he feel about open relationships? She had got no useful answers, and his calm, solid demeanour had made that lack of answers even more frustrating. So here she was, acting like the classic overly-obsessed girlfriend meme, sneakily tailing her boyfriend to find out where he was going. When she finally found out what was going on, she knew she was going to be absolutely mortified, filled with shame at invading his privacy. Until then, though... she just had to

know

.

His fast, easy pace eventually brought him to the front of a factory. She watched him, crouched down in the mouth of a nearby alley, as he slipped inside, pulling a board away from the window and ducking under it into the dark building. She frowned: she had expected a converted building, something subtle with bands of light slipping beneath blackout blinds - the perfect place for some professional-level kinkiness. This place, though, was manifestly empty: the door and most of the windows were boarded up, and the few that weren't gaped empty and dark. If this really was some kind of kinky sex club, it wasn't a licensed one - there was no way this crumbling, piece of shit building would pass a safety inspection.

Options ran through her mind. Maybe it was a... less legitimate sex thing? Or something else - drugs, maybe? Did Jacob have an addiction problem? She'd never noticed any signs like that, no track marks, jitters, or vanishing pupils in his eyes. She stared at the building, weighing whether she should go in. It could be dangerous. Worse, she might put both herself and Jacob in danger, especially if there were gun-toting drug dealers or something in there. On the other hand...

She slipped across the street, pulling aside the board that Jacob had left to fall closed behind him.

It didn't look like there were any drug dealers inside the building - it didn't look like there was

anyone

inside. The thick carpet of dust only had one set of footprints leading through it - Jacob, with his heavy boots and long, rangy stride. Using the light of her phone, Amanda followed the impossible to miss trail, across an empty office space, to a set of stairs that went down.

She eventually caught up with him in the basement, pausing to absorb the weird scene before her. It looked like this might have once been some kind of boiler room; now, a small generator was humming in the corner, thick cables leading to a fold-out picnic table, where a battered but functional laptop had been set up. More wires connected the laptop to a set of speakers, and to the locking mechanism of a heavy metal door. Jacob's clothes were neatly folded on a picnic chair to one side, with his wallet, keys, and phone resting on top of them.

Beyond the door, which swung gently inwards on its hinges, was Jacob, busying himself in a large, dead-end room. As she crept softly up to the door, she took it in - cold concrete walls covered in long scratches, a single yellow light bulb, a large stained mattress on the floor. That seemed to be it, apart from Jacob - butt naked, of course. He was humming to himself as he dragged the mattress over to one corner.

Amanda leaned against the door frame and gently cleared her throat; Jacob jerked like she'd just put a cattle prod to him, spinning to face her with mouth gaping. His hands automatically went to cover his crotch - as if that mattered.

"Manda!" he choked.

"So," she said, with her best attempt at nonchalance. "This is... a place. Where you are."

He stepped forward, grabbing her by the shoulders, attempting to push her back out of the room. "You need to go - now!"

She instinctively dug her heels in, pushing back against him. She did not appreciate being

manhandled

. Well, not outside the bedroom, anyway. "No, you need to tell me what the

fuck

is going on!" she snapped. "I thought you were into some freaky sex stuff, but you're - what? Is this your drug den? Are you a devil worshipper? What the actual

fuck

, Jacob?"

He looked desperately around, licking his lips. "Look, I'll explain everything if you want, I promise. Just not now. Tomorrow - we'll talk tomorrow."

"We'll talk right the fuck now!" she raged. "Whatever it is, I won't judge, I just want to know! I get your need for personal space, but I don't like secrets, Jacob! Especially when they're..." She gestured around the cold, empty room with its single mattress, and complete lack of both needles and prostitutes. "Weird," she finished.

"You wouldn't - it's... complicated," he said, lamely.

"I don't fucking

care

if it's complicated!"

"And it's bad," he said, in a small, tense voice.

There was something heavy, something

dark

, in his tone, but in her frustration she missed it completely. "I don't give a fuck how bad it is, either!" she pressed on, her voice filling the small room. "I love you, Jacob, and whatever it is, we'll -"

She stopped, staring at him. He was staring back at her, wearing a shocked expression she was sure mirrored her own. Despite the weirdness of the situation, the obvious caginess of Jacob's whole

deal

, whatever it was, she felt herself blushing. They hadn't gotten as far as the

L-word

yet. She hadn't thought so, anyway. Huh. The things you learn, right?

The moment was spoiled when Jacob suddenly gasped, his body spasming and folding like he'd been kicked in the stomach. He staggered back from her, doubling over in obvious pain. "Jacob!" she cried in alarm, stepping towards him.

"Get back!" he snarled. She blanched and stepped back. It was rare that she saw Jacob get emotional, and she had never seen him quite

that

emotional. She wasn't sure whether it was anger, or fear, or something else, but it was definitely something. "Get out, close the door, run!" he gasped. He dropped to his knees, clutching his body with his hands.

"Jacob," she begged, stepping forward again. "What is it? Whatever it is, I can help, I -"

"Can't... help..." he panted. "Just... go... close... the door..."

"Jay!" she begged, touching his shoulder.

"Just fucking go!" he roared. He lashed out, shoving her back as hard as he could. The force was almost enough to lift her off her feet, and she flew backwards, slamming against the cold metal of the door, dimly noting a clunk behind her. She slid down, stars dancing in her vision following the blow to her head.

She wasn't...

entirely

sure what she was seeing. Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe the head injury had knocked her out and this was a nightmare. Or maybe it had knocked her out

more

, she was in some kind of coma dream. These were all much more likely, and somehow much more preferable, to the possibility that what she was currently seeing was real.

It started with a stomach churning

crack

, exactly like the sound of bones breaking. Jacob was staring, panicked, wild eyes flickering between her and the closed door. As she stared back, his body began to itself. With a series of cracks and pops, his arms and fingers lengthed, dark hair sprouting from smooth skin. The hair appeared in a wave, rippling up his arms and across his shoulders, down his back and over his chest. Wherever it went, bones snapped and reformed, skin stretching and darkening: his chest expanded, and his stomach was pulled taut and concave as his spine lengthed, stretching out his body. The wave continued expanding down his legs, forcing him forward as his hips, thighs, calves, and feet all changed shape. As the wave of fur crawled up his neck, his mouth worked, as if he was trying to gasp out one word.

Then the wave of coarse, brown hair flowed across his face, his skull cracking and bulging, forcing his eyes closed and erasing the last trace of humanity. Jacob was gone.

Adrenaline surged through Amanda's body, ancient fight-or-flight instincts jerking her up onto her feet. She spun and tried to wrench the door open, but found that there was no door handle. There was a small, glassless window though, through which she could see the screen of the laptop. It was now showing a black screen, with a set of numbers. It looked kind of like a clock. If those were seconds, and those were minutes, then...

"

Fuuuuuuuuuck,

" she breathed. Nine hours, twenty minutes, a handful of seconds. She recalled the wires leading from the laptop to the door's lock. The bulky, heavy, very

solid

looking lock. "Fuck," she said again. With a faint crackle, soft music started to hum from the speakers, a soft tinkle of classical piano.

Behind her, she heard a low growl. It was not a sound a human could make: it was deep and resonant, something like a tiger's rumbling snarl. Slowly, muscles twitching, she turned around.

Where a naked Jacob had been, there was now... something else. It was still broadly humanoid. Coarse brown fur, the same colour as Jacob's hair, covered its entire body. It's arms were long, as were its fingers - each tipped with a long, black claw. The shape of its legs had changed, the foot lengthening, the ankle becoming almost like a second knee and forcing it to move digitigrade. It was bigger, wider, more muscular than Jacob was. But it was the face that held Amanda's attention: covered in hair, the front of his face had bulked out into an animalistic snout, filled with the sharp, pointed teeth of a carnivore. Jacob's rounded ears had become large, pointed animal ears, although they remained on the side of his head. There was no humanity left in that face. She didn't want the thing to open its eyes, to see what might have replaced Jacob's hypnotic baby-blues. Her fingers continued to scrabble at the door behind her, still trying to find purchase she knew wasn't there.

The thing shuddered and took its first long, deep breath. Then, it opened its eyes, saw her, and snarled. Jacob's blue eyes had been replaced by vivid crimson ones, burning with inhuman intensity. She shuddered in revulsion as it raised its head and sniffed the air, nose twitching and nostrils flaring. With a bellow, it threw herself at her.

Amanda dived to the side, depending on her small size and (hopefully) superior agility to escape. The creature soared over her, slamming its full weight into the door, making it shudder. There was a moment of hope -

maybe I can do this!

she thought - and then it turned, slinking across the short distance she had managed to create with unnatural speed, and landed on top of her, limbs splayed and powerful muscles contracting so that it landed almost without a sound, despite its bulk.

She flopped onto her back, looking up into its scarlet gaze, as it loomed above her. It held itself low to the ground, weight distributed evenly and easily between its four powerful limbs, and the whole insane situation somehow felt almost... tender. Like Jacob was still above her. She could feel the burning heat of its body, even through her jeans and jacket, and its earthy, powerful musk filled her nose and throat.

Slowly, unhurried, it lowered its head towards her, muzzle opening to reveal a maw of hooked teeth. She saw the back of its throat as it lowered its open mouth over its head, and began to close its terrible jaws.

Time seemed to slow as adrenaline flooded her system, lightning crackling through her brain as she tried to figure a way out of this. There was no way she could overpower it, that was clear. It was far faster than her, as well. It was a ruthless, unstoppable killing machine - a true, impossible, yet impossibly real predatory

monster

. She had no doubt that if she didn't do something

right the fuck now

, she was done - it would crack her skull open like an egg and lap up whatever spilled out. A strange thought bubbled up in her brain, perhaps sparked by the thought of it being Jacob above her. It was a single, desperate Hail Mary that seemed insane, even as she immediately acted on the thought: it might be a monster, but maybe it would still be a

boy

monster.

She slipped her hand down, rubbing against the coarse fur of its belly, seeking out any sign of something she might be able to use to earn her life. The beast stopped, the points of its teeth pressed against her skin, as her hand pressed against a warm, sparsely furred part of its anatomy, approximately between its legs. She left out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, as it lifted its head, closing its maw to stare down at her. She licked her lips nervously.

"Do you like that?" she asked in a shaking voice. "Is that nice?" She pressed her hand against it more firmly, rubbing it in gentle circles. A deep, rumbling growl rippled through the creature's body, so powerful that she could feel it vibrate the air around her - it was like standing next to the base speaker in a club. She tensed, certain that it was about to tear her apart. Instead, she felt a shift beneath her hand.

The area she'd been stroking distended and opened like some kind of pouch, and what was unmistakably a hardening penis flopped out. She sucked in air as a little tension eased out of her. She had no idea how long she could keep this going, but so far, she'd lived about thirty seconds longer than she would have, so...

let's see how far I can push this

, she thought.

She wrapped her hand around it, feeling it gently throb and twitch against her palm. It was bigger than Jacob's, but not the cartoonish monstrosity she might have excepted: while Jacob was slightly above average in terms of cock size, the Jacob-thing felt about nine inches, slightly thicker than Jacob, but still not as big as some she'd seen in internet porn. It grunted as she slid her hand up and down, crimson eyes flickering slightly at the sensation.

"There, that's nice, isn't it?" she heard herself say, voice wavering. "No need to stop, we can keep doing this for as long as you want. No need to, to -" she swallowed, "-

eat

anyone, or anything." Her hand worked gently up and down, feeling the skin shift along the throbbing muscle underneath. Some of her more conservative friends had once told her that she was a slut for taking guys out into the back alleys behind clubs and giving them handjobs; she was suddenly silently and intensely grateful for not taking their words on board.

With a growling moan, the thing began to thrust its hips, pressing itself into her hand.

Werewolf

, she thought.

Call it what it is

. Not that it looked particularly wolf-life, but... what else was she supposed to call it?

Its thrusting quickly grew more needful, as it chased that elusive rush of pleasure that it's body knew was waiting. Amanda slowed her motions, easing off on her grip, trying to prolong this period of time where it was almost certainly not going to kill her. What she got in return was a growl - a long, low, threatening noise that rattled her teeth. "Okay okay," she said hurriedly, returning to her firm grasp. "Everything's okay, we're all just feeling good here."

She could hear it panting as it thrust, movements become more frenetic and powerful. She didn't know what it would do after it had... well,

after

, but she had a feeling that it wasn't a creature that liked to be teased.

After only a couple of minutes, its entire body tensed - she could see it, the powerful, deadly muscles of its arms and chest rippling with strength. Its hips were almost a blur now, and she had to brace her elbow against the floor to give her enough leverage to push back against its weight, maintaining the firm grasp it seemed to like. It let out a long, rumbling growl that filled the room, and she felt it pulse in her hand. A moment later, she blanched as semen spurted onto her - a large load of steaming, sticky white that covered her pelvis and stomach, although thankfully her light leather jacket took most of the brunt. Still, she could feel the heat of it even through two layers - it was like being splashed with hot water.