Victoria's mother had always said that her innate curiosity would be the death of her someday. While Victoria didn't disagree, she certainly didn't see herself as suicidally curious ...
Well, until now.
For months on end, she had been trying (and failing) to snag the attention of Edward Parker - the best blacksmith in the county and, more importantly, the only man who'd ever made her actually melt on sight.
She'd lost count of how many times she'd come to his image, envisioning his big, brutish body thrusting into her in the blacksmith's shop, or climbing in her bedroom window to ravage her during the night. Victoria was hardly a virgin - not to the knowledge of her overbearing mother, mind - but even she found herself blushing at some of the fantasies Edward inspired.
However, much to her chagrin, Edward was totally oblivious to her affections.
Alright, perhaps not totally oblivious. She'd caught him staring at her during village fairs before, his black eyes boring into the back of her skull hard enough to have her pussy throbbing without so much as a touch. Once, at one of the more rowdy evening fairs, she'd been surrounded by men begging for a dance with her, pawing at her and getting close enough to her person to have her about ready to sock one in the eye. Edward had stalked over to her table and sat right beside her, never saying a word; his presence alone had been enough to scare off her over-zealous suitors. She'd smiled and thanked him sweetly, but he merely nodded and remained where he was, shoulder-to-shoulder with her, for the rest of the evening.
Still, since that incident, he'd never paid Victoria much mind. She'd tried everything - flirting with others in his presence, wearing lower-cut dresses, bending over before his station, loudly complaining to her girl-friends about how her new lace garters were itching her.
But Edward's eyes never strayed to her - at least, not that she could tell.
But tonight was different. Each month, Edward would journey up to a cabin on the hillside, on the outskirts of the village, for what his apprentice had told her was "a hunting trip".
Well, this hunting trip was different: Victoria was the hunter, and she was determined that Edward would be her prey.
At twilight on the day he'd left for his cabin, Victoria had donned her most revealing dress - the neckline so low the tops of her nipples were visible in some lights, most comfortable shoes, her lace underwear, her best corset, and let her hair down so it fell in soft, auburn ringlets. Then, she began her journey.
Her mother was asleep in the sitting room by the fire, so Victoria had to creep out of the back door, her whole body already one edge for the sheer thrill of sneaking out. As she trekked around the village boundaries and up towards the cabin, her pussy began to leak with excitement at the thought of Edward ploughing into her from behind, mounting her like the beast of a man he was and fucking her senseless. She cupped a hand to her soaking mound and walked faster, hungry for what the cabin held.
When she finally reached the small log cabin, her legs were shaking from both exercise and anticipation. She knocked on the door, once, twice, and waited.
"Who goes there?" came a gruff voice. She'd heard his voice before, but never so ... clearly.
"It's ... ah ... it's Victoria," she replied, hoping her voice didn't betray the slight nerves she felt.
"Victoria?" His voice seemed gruffer now, almost a growl. "What do you want?"
She shivered, his voice cascading down her spine. "I'm sorry to disturb you, it's just ... I got lost," she lied, wincing at how idiotic she sounded. "I was on a hillside walk, and I seem to have lost my way."
"It isn't safe," Edward growled. "Go home."
"Well, I would," she huffed, "but it's too dark for me to do so. I remembered you had this cabin, and I thought -"
There was a shuffling on wooden floorboards, and a low, animalistic growl that had the hairs on the back of Victoria's neck standing on end.
"Edward?"
"I can smell you," he said, voice so low she almost failed to hear him. "I can smell your sweetness, Victoria. You smell fucking delicious, little one."
A sound escaped her - something between a squeak and a moan. Her cunt pulsed.
A chuckle sounded. "Come in, then, Victoria. But have care," he grunted, then another feral growl echoed through the cabin, "I'm not in my right mind."
With trembling fingers, Victoria opened the cabin door and slipped inside. The small house was coated in shadows, and smelled of leather and wood and ... fur?
"Edward?" she asked, squinting into the empty house, lit by the full moon overhead. "Are you there?"
Suddenly a creature emerged from the darkness, drawing a yelp of fright from Victoria. It was huge - at least eight foot tall - covered in brown fur, with gleaming black eyes, a predatory grin, pointed ears, and standing on its hindlegs. From between its legs was sprouted a throbbing, enormous cock, purple-and-red and bobbing as it stalked towards Victoria, cowering against the wall.
The smell of him, the growling, huffing breath emanating from his feral mouth, combined with the lusty haze she seemed to be suffering from, made for a heady concoction. She was afraid, yes, but moreover she was...
Aroused.
"Edward," she breathed, knowing those heated eyes anywhere. She struggled to hide her fear, but she tried for casual conversation to keep herself from fainting: "My, what big eyes you have!"
"All the better to see what lies under that scrap of cloth you call a dress, dear Victoria," the creature purred, and as if called for, her nipples turned stiff against the linen.
"What big ears you have!" she stammered, chest heaving with something just beyond fear.
He chuckled. "All the better to hear your screams as I pound that tight cunt raw, my dear."
