"How come my stories are about baths and massages and multiple orgasms, while yours are about witches and poisons and, now, werewolves?"
Sonya kicked her legs. God she had beautiful legs. "Your stories are, what did the other girl say, formulaic?"
"You are never going to let me forget, are you?"
"I'm not your wife. I don't own you. You can look at anyone you want. I own your cum, though. You can only cum for me."
"I know! How do you do that? I actually thought it would happen watching her, then it faded."
Sonya got that wicked smile. She adjusted her panties. I had two days until I was finally in my own place. I didn't think I could last.
"You can."
"Stop reading my mind."
"When you are this horny, it practically screams at me."
"Are you certain you never read the Witcher books?"
"Yes. I didn't care for the show. Why would I read the books?"
"I hope they fix the show. The books deserve a good adaptation. The way you talk about reading my mind is similar to the way Yennifer talks about reading Geralt's."
"Do you look like Geralt?"
I hesitated. What a question to ask. Of course I didn't look like Henry Cavill. The guy was a stud. "Well, there is a reason I don't turn my camera on."
"Why? You see me. I want to see you. I don't care what you look like."
"You are beautiful. I look more like...the guy who played King Foltest."
"The fat guy who fucked his sister?"
"Well, sort of. I don't have a sister, but I wouldn't fuck her if I did."
"And look what it got him, a striga. A dead monster baby. You want me to read the books, but when I tell stories about monsters, you whine."
"I do not whine."
"You cum harder from my stories anyway."
"I know, why is that?"
Sonya just smiled. With a twinkle in her eyes, she continued the tale.
-------------
The entire household had been awoken. Jessica and Melanie had barely covered themselves when the housekeeper and cook rounded the corner. Anthony looked ridiculous with a wet crotch, but he jumped out of bed to greet them. He didn't want them to see the spycam monitors on Melanie's laptop.
"We heard something in my room. It sounded like an animal. Janice, please call the police. Bruce, come with me." Bruce looked into the young women's room and saw how terrified they both were.
"Let me grab something first, sir," he said and ran to the kitchen. He returned in a flash with a large cleaver and knife. He gave Anthony the knife. "Let's go."
They headed to the Master Bedroom. Anthony didn't know if Bruce was actually brave, or was acting the part to impress the young women. He didn't care. When it came to sharp claws and teeth, the cook could go first.
The wolf had disappeared. There was no exit from which it could have escaped. All the windows and a side door were latched from the inside. Anthony pretended he hadn't seen the picture and quickly covered it. Bruce had seen enough to know what it showed. He figured out the rest.
He surprised Anthony. "Maybe it is best if the police don't see that. They will just take it as evidence, meaning God knows how many will see it."
He put a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "You have a good heart kid. They are a great couple."
"Of course, Sir."
Anthony examined the crucifix. It was a simple cross, made of wood. It was varnished and polished to a brilliant glow. Where it lay, it had burned his comforter.
"Please sir, don't disturb the evidence." The voice came from behind them. A policewoman was beckoning them out of the room. She was the spitting image of Princess Kate. They both stood there, amazed. She motioned to them again. "Please. I know who I look like. Come out to the hallway."
They both started when they came out to see a K9 unit awaiting them. "Just protocol," said the policeman holding its leash. "The report said a wolf. Betsy here will be able to tell right away." He undid the leash and she started sniffing, working her way into the room. Then she started to howl. With her tail between her legs, she sniffed at the crucifix, then barked.
"Heel, Betsy." The dog was happy to leave the room.
The female detective started giving orders. "Seal the room. I need a hazmat team out here right away. Professor, you are lucky you didn't touch that crucifix."
"You have me at a disadvantage, Officer."
"I guess I didn't raise my hand enough in your class," she smirked. "It's Detective, not Officer. Detective Meadows. Brandy to those who remember me."
"Someone who looks like a Duchess you would think I would remember."
"Maybe you weren't into younger women back then." She glanced at the two young housemates. They had simply slipped back into their towels. Were they intentionally trying to get him sacked?
Melanie beckoned him over. "Professor," she whispered, "you said nothing about a wolf to your housekeeper."
Janice? She had been his housekeeper for years. There had to be an explanation. Just in case, he used the situation to have the girls get dressed. He gave them the weapons Bruce had brought. Then he decided to have him go with them anyway.
Janice stood alone next to the K9 officer. He went back to the hallway where Detective Meadows was still giving out orders. "Hold there, Professor. We have some unique footprints," she said. He stopped. The tech next to her flashed a UV light. The prints looked like an ordinary canine.
