The Wolflan King

The Coven

Shifting uncomfortably underneath weighted eyelids, I was barely aware of how restricted my body had become. Why couldn't I move anything?

Daring to bereave my curious mind, I awoke from the blackness and knew we weren't in Kansas anymore. Why couldn't I recognize these curious muscular pillars flexing about?

Damn. I never should've left my apartment. Poor Jojo, she's the only friend I have, and she deserves better than f****d up old me...

How many times have I wished to blend in with the blank crowd of my life?

Too many to count.

I began to feel a strange tingling underneath the sinew of my fragile bones. The sensation inched up the small mound of my shoulder, brushing the blade oh so delicately before cascading below my bulging breasts and curving down below, inside unspeakable places.

With every breath I took, something was drawing nearer. And at this, I trembled, uncertain of the future. Then, suddenly, one of my captors stepped out of the shadows, and I was very shocked to see the figure of a woman closing in.

"So, our little princess is finally waking up."

As she laughed maniacally, the icy burn within grew, amplified in a fury. Who was this b***h? I was nobody's princess.

"God, whew, you reek of virgin! My lady will be very displeased. Come along now."

Slowly I began to realize where we were, and along with childish excitement, fear also flicked its finger, creeping in the corners as legends of old breathed free air once more.

In the old tongue, there were songs of Sodom and Gamore sung high and low. Their story was fraught with tragedy and corruption. But, once their reign had run its course, the king became the land I know, and the rumored seedy underbelly writhing below was the late Gamore, the fallen Queen.

Soon enough, we were both standing at a pair of silver doors that seemed to pierce the bedrock above as smoothly as freshly churned butter. The smell of delicate rose petals wafted within my nostrils as my leash led me inside.

The aisle was wide and long, almost endless as each tap of my foot dreadfully reverberated an echo sounding out a billowing bell. Looking back at every eye that bore into mine, I couldn't find a single male within the parted crowd. But, peering a little harder, I was wrong. A small group of men moved within the populace, but they were all bound with chains, stripped of luxury and dignity.

They were slaves.

As the obsidian marble clashing beneath me climaxed into a great throne, a loosely dressed yet cogent belladonna lounged comfortably. There was not a trace of kindness or humanity in her black eyes.

"So, this is the latest reincarnation? Hmm, how disappointing...

More wine, DOG!"

Cringing at her sudden shrill tone, a man stood up and marched with superior speed keeping his head low.

He was wearing absolutely nothing.

I mean, wow, I had never seen the shaft of a man before, being innocent in the ways of sensual pleasure. How very intimidating.

Do they all look like that?

What century did I just step in?

Even under the weight of such chains, the poor stranger didn't shiver as he refilled her domed half-pint, sloshing the black liquid at the perfect angle.

"Wait, Dog, you may be of some use to me."

Quickly averting her attention back towards me, I shuddered at what poisonous words brimmed upon her pursed lips.

"Welcome to my coven. I am Raven Featherfeld, a high priestess and preferred to all women. And, you, my dear, will be initiated into the fold."

"No."

The blue fire that burned thwarted the word from my mouth before I knew what was happening. The tingling turned bright, my sinewed flesh kindling, encouraging me to fight.

Where did this strength come from?

"I'm sorry, it wasn't a request, but do struggle, how arousing it is. Dog, f**k her and be rough about it. I'm in the mood for something bloody."

Raven flung her reflective lack hair back and joined in with a peal of rhythmic laughter that arose in the great hall, ominous and deadly.

The Dog, as she called him, turned and pulled me into a harrowing stare, one that tried to communicate voicelessly.

How am I going to get out of this mess?

Fucking Mondays.