His Human Mate (A werebear story)

Chapter 2

The ride in the car felt like it took forever, but in reality it was only about half an hour. During the drive, his hands never left my body and I stayed frozen like a statue. To scared to do anything. Fingers slid beneath my panties, touching my bare womanhood, a hand moved up under my dress to fondle my breasts. Fingers pinched and tugged my n*****s while I felt something growing in size and harden beneath my ass.

I didn't know male anatomy. I didn't have a single clue what s*x was or even how babies were made. My world was sheltered and my mind as innocent as a toddlers. But I knew what was happening was wrong and that I didn't like it. I didn't want it. I was terrified.

That weekend changed me. It opened my eyes and taught me that the world was a cruel place and that men saw women as nothing but objects. Warm bodies to please them. That weekend my innocence was stolen from me as I was taken, used and abused by the devil himself.

Nikola had been a particular kind of sadist. He enjoyed my pain, enjoyed that I was young and pure before he got his filthy hands on my young, soft, supple body. He enjoyed my tears and screams as he torn me open and took what I never wanted to give. I fought hard and paid the price dearly for my disobedience.

He had warned me in the car, that if I struggled and fought he would make me bleed, and bleed I did.

That weekend taught me many lessons, including that the world was not what I once thought it was. Nikola Fangili wasn't your ordinary man, no he was something much worse. Something my young mind wouldn't allow me to comprehend. A werewolf.

I found that out by accident. He hadn't meant to shift in front of me, but I had fought, screamed, cried and kicked him. The beast inside of him reared his head and his claws sunk into my naked torso. The damage from that injury nearly killing me and causing permanent damage.

Before I was brought home on my deathbed, Nikola had his pack doctor fix me up. Saving my life, but losing a part of myself in the process. He also used some kind of mind control power on me. Or at least he tried to, he tried to compell me to forgot what had happened, to forget that he wasn't a man, but a beast. I don't know why, but it didn't work on me. I remembered everything. Ever single nightmare inducing detail had been seared into my brain and I couldn't escape the memories, no matter what I did. And when I was dropped off at home, my father used my near death experience as a way to gain more business from the man. He hadn't cared that I couldn't move. That I was injured or scarred so badly I would see a reminder of that weekend every time I looked in a mirror. No, the only thing my father had ever cared about was work.

Afterwards I was placed in my bedroom and allowed to rest, to recover, and as I laid in bed I made a vow. A vow that I would get out. That I would know freedom and I would run. I would run from my father and never look back. So the day of my 18th birthday I packed a bag of clothes and walked out of my parents house and out of that life.