Monsieur Sauvage caught sight of the nurse running away like the devil was after her, but fearing he had no time to lose, he charged towards the nursery—-
The doctor fell to his knees.
What had he done?
Sheer horror destroyed the last chains of grief and insanity, and he started to weep.
Indestructible horns of the most powerful bull –
Razor-sharp fangs of the most dangerous wolf –
Viciously deadly claws of the most ferocious lion –
His son had it all…because the doctor had turned his son into a monster.
THE LAST WORDS OF MONSIEUR Sauvage fell into an uneasy silence, and the doctor smiled grimly at the uneasy expressions of his guests. “Ce n’est pas une blague, mes amies.” It is not a joke, my friends.
And as the monsieur spoke, a middle-aged woman came in, bearing an infant swathed in layers of cotton. The doctor murmured his thanks as he took his son from the nurse, and he presented his little one to his guests. “Mon fils.” My son.
The newcomers began to laugh, relieved but still just a little wary, when they saw a pair of brilliantly blue eyes and a face that promised breathtaking handsomeness once the child reached adulthood.
But then the baby started to smile.
And that was when they saw the fangs.
The doctor calmly peeled the cotton off his son’s squirming body.
And they saw the horns –
And the claws –
Une bête. A beast.
As horror filled their faces, the doctor’s own face hardened. “I gave all of you a chance when the rest of the world did not. Am I asking too much now, that you show the same courtesy to my child? He has only smiled at the lot of you in his innocence – does that warrant the way you are looking at him now?”
The doctor’s words, spoken in a voice that shook with great emotion, had shame gradually replacing the people’s fear.
“It is but one simple thing that I ask of all of you – one simple reason why I offered all of you a chance to turn your lives around. Give my son a chance to be human. Show him that it is what’s inside that makes us human.”
The Real Beast
The room was almost cavernous in its vastness, the darkness interrupted only by the golden light coming from the ornate Victorian chandelier hanging over the majestic four-poster bed. Its rays spilled over the tapestried walls, the rich midnight-black carpet, and the priceless furniture in the room, one of which was an antique camelback sofa where the master and his mistress were currently fucking.
“Aurélien, oh, oh!” The golden-haired woman, naked from the waist down, bounced wildly on her lover’s lap, her slender body wanting more and more of the monstrous cock she was impaled on.
“M-more, s’il vous plaît—-” The woman threw her head back with a moan, a look of rapture falling on her beautiful face as her lover gave her the fast and furious pounding she needed. “Oui, oui!” She found herself clutching his rock-hard shoulders as his movements became more forceful, almost deliciously violent, and when he ripped her blouse away with his claws, she screamed, not out of fear, but of excitement.
Ah, he really was such a beast when it came to sex.
It was just too bad he was one, too, littéralement.
Because if he weren’t one, then she wouldn’t have to—-
His claws moved yet again, distracting her with their movement, tiny razor-sharp slashes all dangerously close to her skin. But none of them hurt her – he never did hurt her, no matter how much she begged him.
His slashing claws snipped her bra into pieces, and his palms caught her breasts as they sprang free. Aurélien’s mouth moved towards her breast, and she moaned again as she felt his fangs graze against her protruding nipples.
Ah, he was really so, so good at this.
“Mordez moi, mon amour.”
But Aurélien ignored her request, only laving her nipple with his tongue. It was enough to have her body shudder, but she wanted more. Although she would never admit it to anyone, she wanted the animal in him making love to her.
There was just nothing as exciting, nothing!
And so her sharp nails clawed his back, and Aurélien’s nostrils flared at the scent of blood.
Oui, ma mon amour. She looked into his too-human blue eyes, willing – daring – him to shed his civilized ways. She raked her nails over his back for the second time, and the scent of blood became stronger. “Aurélien,” she implored, “Aurélien, s’il vous plaît—- ”
The younger man gave in with a growl, his fangs sinking just enough into the tender flesh of her breast to cause her the most excruciating mix of pain and pleasure—-
She gasped at the lurid beauty of it, but she knew it was not all he could do. “You know what I want—-”
A warning growl, but the sound only fed her arousal, and she worked harder to whittle down his resistance, rubbing her breasts against his chest, grinding her pussy down on his beastly cock-—