I walked down the wooden steps of my basement stairs, careful to make as little noise as possible, so as not to wake Lance. He was cranky when he didn't get enough sleep, and a cranky Lance was not something I wanted to deal with right now. It was best he stayed in dreamland until I was ready to wake him.
I always undressed before coming down here, making sure that I was in nothing but my birthday suit before interacting with my monstrous lover, because Lance could get a little rough during sex, or just in general, and I didn't want to have to replace any more of my dresses. I was on a limited budget.
My name is Megan Holly. I'm a twenty-four-year-old, five-foot-two white girl of average weight, with an hourglass body, a beautiful, heart-shaped butt, and C-cup breasts with gorgeous dark-pink nipples. I don't mean to be vain, but I'm quite beautiful in the face, that face ringed by short, dyed-blonde hair, that face accented by my emerald-green eyes, of which, I consider my best feature. I have a stunning little bald pussy, with a triangular, dark-pink hood covering my little dark-pink clit, and ever since Daniel freed me of my human inhibitions months ago, I've been putting my hot little twat to good use, but I'll explain that later on.
You see, Daniel Christianson's my one true love, my one and only...Well, he's not my only, it's just...he's the one I was meant to be with. He broke up with me ten months ago, just before I discovered his little secret, that secret being his...uhhh...'wolfiness'.
Daniel's a werewolf, and over the course of our dating, he...did something to me, and it probably had to do with all of the times we made love. Whatever he infected me with, it...isn't the same as what's wrong with him. I know he changes into a werewolf during the full moon, but that's not my little problem. No, that I could properly handle. What's wrong with me is...well...it's complicated.
It started with strange sexual urges, leaving me sweaty in the middle of the night, having to masturbate a lot more than I normally do. Then came the bloodthirstiness, the awful cravings to dismember people, to destroy things. You have no idea how much money I have spent replacing my vases, my paintings, and my pewter figurines, having to replaster the walls to fill in holes, having to buy new clocks, toasters, and phones...that sort of thing. That rage just gets to you, you know?
Anyway, I started seeing strange lights around people, like a colorful ring around them, so I looked that up on the Net, and that's when I learned about 'auras'. Apparently, I can see people's auras now, can see their true selves via the colors they shine. It's weird, but it's also awesome, because I can really manipulate people now, and that's really useful.
The other thing I can do is equally awesome, but it has to do with attraction and sex. Strangely enough, my bodily fluids...saliva, blood, urine...pussy juice...that kind of thing...act as a poison that causes normal people to go into sexual overdrive. It has a different effect depending upon whether you're a man or a woman, but it always makes them horny as fuck and hungry to jump my bones. I've found this ability to be quite useful as well, if only to satisfy my more primal urges...and to feed Lance. Of course, it also spreads whatever infection this thing is that I have, but...Lance eats what I don't want. I'm pretty sure that's how Daniel spread it to me, like an STD. A lycanthropy STD.
Anyway, I've made a lot of adjustments to my little house in the town of Lonesome Moon, adjustments that wiped out my savings, but they were absolutely necessary. I really had no choice. Thinking back, this is all Daniel's fault, and he fucking owes me for all of the money I've had to spend dealing with this problem, but...I just can't stay mad at him. I love him so mu...That...That doesn't matter. I'm on a tangent again...Anyway, I put in these adjustments after my first...uhhh...encounter...with a suitor after Daniel broke up with me.
I actually went to the Silver Cup, a little bar here in town, one with a silver trophy and a golf ball on the sign, a place I would have never thought of going to in the past, but I was just...I was burning up inside with lust, and I needed a quick fuck, okay?
The guy I met there, Lance, Lance Denning?...He was your typical college graduate in his late twenties, one with a degree but no decent job to pay it off. I can only assume that's why he was still stuck in Lonesome Moon...Jesus Christ, did he not want my attention, but he was the best-looking guy there. He was six-foot, thin, wavy brown hair, grey eyes, average muscle, not fat, really good looking...You get the picture. I wanted him badly, so fucking badly, and trust me, I could have picked up anyone else, because I got hit on by eight guys that night. That should say something.
Well, turns out that Lance had a boyfriend. Lance was bi, but he preferred guys most of the time, which I find weird, but whatever. It's a modern world. Anyway, he really denied my repeated advances until I just reached up and kissed him, and what do you know? His aura changed, and we started sucking face right in front of his boyfriend, Greg. Greg got pissed, but I got Lance to walk out with me, and...I'll get back to Greg later. Greg was a problem in himself, a really messy problem, but that's not important right now.
Anyway, Lance and I went back to my house and fucked that first time, and it was fucking awesome, and it satisfied all of my urges, and yada, yada, yada. Lance broke up with Greg and moved in with me, and we were a happy couple for about three weeks.
Then the full moon hit. It shone right through the basement windows, windows I have since removed.
Lance and I were indeed down in the basement when it happened. He had been helping me with the laundry when...well...that light hit him, and he changed. He just kept staring at the full moon, and...he changed. Apparently, I had infected him with lycanthropy just like Daniel had infected me, but...not in the same way. Not...at...all.
Lance went full beast and never changed back. He's, like, a monster all of the time now, a seven-foot-tall, brown-furred werewolf with a massive ten-inch-long dick. Why did I mention his dick? Because that dick is what's satisfied my own urges for some time now...But anyway, I screamed my little head off when it happened, when he changed, but he didn't hurt me. No, he tore off my dress, ripped that little article of clothing to shreds, and then he had his way with me. Well, after that horrifyingly fun little belly-bulging spearing, he then proceeded to destroy my basement...my fucking basement. Jesus.
Well, right after Lance fucked me in his new form, something awesome happened to me, something awesome and really terrifying, but it didn't last long. What happened, you ask? I'll fill you in on that later. Needless to say, it freaked me the fuck out, so once I rode that out, I knew I needed help. It was another reason besides Lance destroying my basement that I needed help.
Okay, so what did I do? I got dressed again, and I called up Greg. Greg was furious with me...on account of stealing his boyfriend, obviously...but I told him something was really, really wrong with Lance...an understatement...and I needed his help. I was too scared and freaked out to handle it myself. I knew Greg would see this as an opportunity to 'steal' back his ex, so he rushed right on over, but that was fine, because I knew Lance wasn't going to get back with him...But anyway, Lance hadn't hurt me, so I didn't think he'd hurt Greg, either...but Greg hadn't been infected with lycanthropy. I didn't know at the time that this was a condition of Lance's...uhhh...control. I led Greg down to the basement, and...can you guess what happened next?
Lance tore him apart. Just ripped him into little itty, bitty pieces...and then he ate those pieces. Here's the thing, though. That little meal that Lance had...calmed him down. In fact, he stayed calm for a couple of months after that. Really, it's usually a buildup inside him, something wild and uncontrollable, and then he starts getting edgy, and then I have to...uhh...'locate' some more food for him. I can usually keep him quelled with stray animals and such, but they don't keep down his bloodlust as well as a real live human does.
But I digress. Lance tore apart Greg, showering me in blood, gore, and guts, and...that really did something to me. It did something in my brain that...changed me. I liked it...I liked it a lot. It satisfied my urges as well. That rage and anger I had? That went away for a while, just like Lance's had.
Well, I'm not stupid, and I knew I was in deep shit after that. I went and rented a moving van, coaxed Lance out of the house in the middle of the night, and spent a whole month renovating my basement while Lance stayed in a storage shed outside of town. It's funny, too, because some thief broke into that shed one night looking to steal anything of value, probably some meth addict...we have a lot of those in Lonesome Moon...and Lance promptly ate her. I know it was a woman, because I found one of her shoes along with her foot in it the next morning. Her toenails had been painted a shiny gold color. I also found part of her face. She had brown eyes with green eyeliner.
I had to clean out the interior of that storage shed. It was not fun.