She wakes as the sparse blanket is ripped away from her, leaving her naked to the cold air and hard, wooden floor. Her mind urges her to flee, an instinct of pure fear amidst a cloud of grogginess, but she’s both too slow and too resigned for either fight or flight. She had long ago learned that the sheer gulf in their strength and their statures was insurmountable, and so she positions herself to receive him as painlessly as possible. With any luck, it would be one of the quick nights.
Lifting herself onto all fours, she fights against her sluggish limbs to get into position herself before she’s forced into it instead. High overhead, she knows, the full moon shines down, like the eye of some perverted god watching his minion punish her.
The beast’s presence looms over and behind her, a ragged breathing that she can’t look at, doesn’t dare look at. Coarse fur presses against her raised ass a moment before she feels that same fur cover her back as the creature gets itself into position. The werewolf enters her from behind, as it always does. Dry and unaroused, her body resists fruitlessly as the beast’s self-lubricated cock splits her lips with ease, penetrating with a glancing blow that causes her to cry out in pain. The creature doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care.
It begins with a few tentative thrusts–testing the waters, as it were, to make sure it won’t slip out. With that out of the way, it begins in earnest, wrapping its oversized hands around her waist, its nails digging into the supple flesh of her belly. Not enough to tear, but enough to make her aware that she’s a hair’s breadth from being disemboweled if it just flexes a little too much. She knows that strength well enough from the past, and the deep scratches that it might leave when it gets too lost in the act, but so far, she’s survived their matings. Despite the hopelessness of her situation, she hopes she’ll survive tonight’s.
Rhythmic, wet slapping sounds fill the small cabin, along with the creak of wooden boards, both from their motion as well as the wind picking up outside. Her knees hurt from the wooden floor. It’s a blessing in disguise though, as it lets her focus on the pain there, and not the thing that’s happening to her, happening inside of her. She feels the beast’s cock enlarging as it slams into her, over and over again, its arousal feeding its growth, but it’s an aside, something that’s happening to someone else. For her, right now, there is only the pain in her knees as it ebbs and flows. Each thrust pushes her walls further apart and further into her. Even as her mind rejects it, her body responds with arousal. Subtle, in ways, like her vagina lengthening, making room for the intruding member. Obvious in others, like her involuntary moans and her flushed skin.
She thinks of the pain in her knees. The sharp demarcation between boards draws a particular line across her skin that she concentrates on. She brings it to the forefront of her thoughts, studying it, focusing with fervor, trying to push everything else away. One of her hairs slips across her face, and the faint tickling sensation is a distraction that unbalances her mind. She loses her focus and her concentration slips away entirely, driven to the side by hormones and raw, physical sensations.
The beast is close now. She can feel the hands flexing involuntarily, the jagged nails pressing into her skin. Its thrusts grow shorter, but more forceful. There’s a growing fullness at the base of its member inside her that doubles, then triples in size. It will lock them together if she submits, or tear her apart if she resists.
She submits.
Still thrusting, the beast pulls her waist upward, forcing her to arch her back in an angle that lets the beast’s member penetrate her entirely, pushing through the full length of her vagina until the tip rests just inside her cervix.
The shaft is hot, but the flow of its seed is hotter. While it was thrusting, it was one sensation among many, lost in the noise and easy to ignore. But now, as the creature begins to orgasm, she feels every pulse, every jet, every vein as it bulges and throbs inside her. The beast’s knot presses against her clit from the inside, rubbing ever-so-slightly as it breathes, as its heart beats, as it pumps just a bit more into her.
Against her every desire, she comes. Sweat drips from her forehead and onto the floor as her body seizes, her hands grasping at something that isn’t there and instead balling into fists. She squeezes her eyes shut as if to lock out the reality of it, but her voice gives sound to the pleasure washing over and through her. Her muscles clamp down spasmodically against the creature’s throbbing cock, and she feels a deep, unwanted satisfaction in being filled with something while she comes, but especially something so warm and full of life.
She feels complete, and she hates it.
The beast comes and comes, jet after jet in inhuman amounts. Maybe it’s the season, maybe something it ate or felt or did today, but she wonders if the short mating will ever end. She feels the seed fill her, first as a point of surprise, then discomfort. Her womb, designed to stretch and expand to create a child, is given none of the time it needs to accommodate such an influx, but she feels it trying. Each time the werewolf’s cock twitches, it fills her just a bit more, maybe a spoonful at a time, but even that could fill a bucket, with enough patience.
As the hour progresses, her belly swells. Uncomfortable, and at times painful, she’s still somehow a little sad when the beast finally withdraws–a vague sense of loss countered by the over-ripe fullness in her belly.
She collapses onto her side, unable to hold herself up any long. The beast is already gone, having made its exit sometimes while she lay there stupefied. She feels the seed leaking out of her, but not as quickly as she’d have expected, or would have liked. It puddles on the wooden floor behind her, cooling on her skin as it trickles out. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does, not right now. She pulls the blanket over from where it had been thrown aside and drapes it over her as best as she can. She’s exhausted, and the best that she can hope for now is to escape into a dreamless sleep, and leave this all behind her.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jea7zp/taken_during_the_full_moon_mf_werewolf_nc