Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
But then, he let go. I don’t think he noticed the change in me, and my teeth quickly retreated once the danger passed.
They weren’t needed when he took his cock out and fucked between my breasts like a madman, like an unfettered animal, and came all over my face. I’m still finding it dried in my hair.
Now, however, now that he’s tied me up and left me to my own devices, they might be needed. My hands are behind my back, and I wonder if they, too, might transform at some point, if there is something that will make them into my old claws. Is it anger? Is it self-preservation? Hunger?
I’m sure I’ll find out either way.
So now that I have this secret, I must figure out how to use it.
And when.
“Will you show me how to pray?” I ask, willing my voice to sound innocent, but not too much, so as not to arouse suspicion.
Priest looks at me in surprise, lowering his glass of wine.
“You want to know how to pray?”
We’re at his desk, me on the chair, him sitting on the edge of the table. It’s been a few days since our last intimate interaction—our only kiss—and until now, he’s been distant. Not cruel, but not kind either. I suppose I shouldn’t expect much more than that from him. Perhaps I should be grateful, as he said.
Yesterday was mass. Through the walls, I listened to him talk again, preaching things I know he doesn’t believe in—or at least, he doesn’t believe in most of it. The rules, the guilt, the damnation. It seems to be that no matter what those poor people do, they are going to hell one way or another. I’ve been around humans enough to know that no one is that good at heart. Everyone is a sinner and will stay a sinner because that’s the world we live in.
At least Syrens come by it honestly. We accept that we aren’t all light, but we aren’t all shadow. We’re those muddy shades in the middle, trying to do our best to stay alive. Life is too hard as it is to worry about what’s going to happen to us after we leave it.
“I’m curious,” I tell him, gesturing for the glass of wine. “After hearing your sermon yesterday, I wanted to know what it’s like in there. What it’s like to pray.”
He rubs his lips together, and the memory of his mouth makes my own lips tingle.
That kiss scared him. Everything to do with me scares him, I can tell.
He hesitates before he offers the chalice, and I take it in my hands, tied together in front of me this time. How nice of him to give me some variety. He’s also dressed me up in the general’s wife’s gown, a satiny green with a low bodice that makes my breasts look like they want to escape. I felt like a proper pet when he put all the layers on me, one by one. Any desire he may have felt while dressing me, he managed to keep hidden.
This morning, he brought in two of the pews from the church and pushed them together so they resemble a bed. I haven’t slept on it yet, but so far, it seems the mound of clothes on the floor might be the more comfortable option.
I tilt the chalice back and swallow the rest of the contents in one gulp.
His dark brows rise appreciatively. “Alright. I can show you how to pray.”
He gets to his feet and plucks the chalice from my hands, placing it on the table before pulling me up by my elbow. “Come on. Do you think you can hobble out there, or shall I carry you?”
“Why don’t you see if I can learn how to walk?” I point out. I start tipping over, and he keeps me up by placing his warm palms on my shoulders. “I can’t learn if you keep me hobbled. It’s as if I still have a tail.”
He stares at me for a moment and then nods. “Fair point. Promise you won’t kick me?”
“I make no such promises.”
He chuckles to himself and then bends down, breaking the rope apart with his bare hands as if it was just a strand of hair.
I feel like he did that on purpose, a reminder of his strength and what he could do to me.
How easy I am to break.
But I won’t be broken without a fight.
He puts his hand at my elbow to steady me. Standing beside him like this, I’m also aware of how much bigger and taller he is too. Every inch of him is taut and hard and powerful, more beast than man, more animal than priest. It’s strange that I’ve had his fingers inside me, that he’s had his cock between my breasts, that we’ve both come in each other’s presence, seen each other at our most raw and vulnerable, and yet it’s in moments like this that I feel the difference in our statures.