Creampie Dreams: Impregnation Erotica Trilogy (3 page)

They stopped in another clearing, featureless but for a small, ramshackle wooden hut with a poorly fitted door and a window without glass. She was dropped on the ground like a sack of flour, landing heavily on her rear. The attacker turned from her, peering back into the forest as if waiting for pursuers.

For a moment his attention was distracted, and Amelie didn't need an embossed invitation to flee. She crawled to her feet, pulling on the flimsy wooden structure for support, and darted in the direction of the thickest undergrowth to use her slender frame to her advantage against the thick, muscular beast of a man.

She ran for a hundred meters before stumbling onto a rough track. It was overgrown and obviously disused, but Amelie felt her heart soar at this sign of civilization. The track would eventually lead to a village or town, somewhere that offered the protection of large, armed men who could deal with her pursuer and escort her home. She picked a direction at random and began to run.

She didn't make it ten steps before her attacker stepped calmly from behind a tree directly into her path. Amelie couldn't stop in time, and the last image she saw before the lights blinked out was his thick, heavy fist swinging towards the side of her head. Her last thought was confused, a mixture of terror at her capture and, from the darkest reaches of her sexual subconscious, excitement at what was to come.

She slept.

Chapter Three

It was night.

Amelie's eyes opened slowly from her deep, restful sleep. She shivered with cold and reached over to tug at her blanket. Her hand patted the bed, searching for the thick, warm sheets, but all it met was hard and cold.
This isn't my bed.
The thought came slowly through Amelie's confused and groggy mind, and it took a moment longer for her memories to come trickling back.

She sat up suddenly, straining to see in the darkness. She was indoors, laying on a cold dirt floor. One hand was trapped in some sort of heavy bracelet, and as she pulled it she heard the dull clink of a thick chain.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she realized she must be back in the wooden shack. She found the outline of the paneless window lit by dim, pale moonlight. From beyond the frame came unusual noises, almost growls, along with a tearing sound, followed by an organic sound she couldn't identify. Then silence for long minutes.

Eventually there came the sound of a wooden match striking against a rock, the crackle of kindling followed by the
woomph
of a fire catching. Amelie sat rubbing her wrist where the heavy bracelet pinched her skin, and tried to stay calm.
What does he want with me?
If her attacker's aim was to harm her, then surely he wouldn't have gone to the trouble of carrying her back here through the forest. He could just as easily have snapped her neck in the clearing.

So, why? Ransom? Surely that could not be the reason. Her father had no money, as was clear by her clothing. No woman of worth would dare leave her home in such poor peasant's rags. He couldn't possibly have mistaken her for the daughter of a man of means. He knew her name, though, so whatever his intentions this was personal. He hadn't simply stumbled on her in the forest, that much was clear. He had pursued her.

Whatever his intentions, Amelie didn't mean to stay to find out. She fumbled around in the dark, sensing her surroundings in search of a weapon, a key, anything that might help her fight or escape, but the ground was bare. As far as her chain would allow her to move she found nothing of note but a loose board in the rear wall of the shack.

She turned her attention to the chain. The links were thick and heavy, clearly too strong to consider trying to break. Her hands followed the links back to their source and found the chain had been hammered securely into a large, half buried rock by a piton. She tugged on the chain, but the metal spike didn't move at all.

Running her hands back up the chain she found that it split in two just inches from her wrist, with the second length running to another shackle. Her fingers traced around the bracelet, and she felt the hole where the locking pin should slide.
Wait... could it be that simple?

She felt the bracelet around her wrist and almost laughed when she found what she'd hoped to find. The shackles were a simple design, meant to lock both hands together quickly. Each shackle was secured by a long steel locking pin that dropped into a hole at the inside of the wrist, and it was designed in such a way that a prisoner could not reach either pin when their hands were secured.

With just one hand bound, however, it was simply a matter of easing the pin from its hole to free herself. She couldn't believe her good fortune, and she rejoiced as the pin worked free and the shackle fell to the ground, the sound masked by the crackling of the fire.

Now free, Amelie reached for the loose board in the wall. It was attached by a single nail, and it easily moved aside just enough to allow her to squeeze through the gap. Beyond she saw the moonlit forest, and she knew she was only moments from freedom. She slid through with her arms raised above her head, and struggled a little as her breasts slowed her progress. For a moment she thought they might make it impossible to fit through the tight gap, but by emptying her lungs of air there was just enough room to continue.

She could taste her freedom now. The smell of meat cooking in the clearing behind her told her that her captor was occupied, and all she had to do was slip silently into the undergrowth and make enough ground to reach the nearest village before her absence was discovered. She knew she could do it.

Something caught on Amelie's leg, something firm and unshakable. It felt as if the steel shackle had somehow attached to her ankle, and she panicked and pulled forward to no avail. Suddenly she was pulled bodily back through the narrow gap, the wood scraping at her chest as she was heaved back into the shack, and the entire structure shook. She found herself dazed, back in the darkness, and her captor loomed over her.

'I told you,' he said, calmly, 'there is no chance of escape.' In the gloom she felt him take her hand and lift her to her feet. 'Now come, Amelie. It's time.'

She was carried from the shack easily, her struggling as ineffectual as attempting to swim upstream against a torrent. She beat her fists against her captor's muscular chest, but he simply grasped her wrists in one hand to subdue her more effectively than any shackle. She felt the power in those hands, and suddenly understood that what he said was true. He was stronger than her, faster and more capable. He acted as if her attempts at escape were an amusement, and she felt the hope drain from her mind.

She was dropped by the fire, landing with a thud in the dirt, and her jailer sat down serenely beside her. He studied her with amusement for a moment, and then spoke as if she were simply a house guest.

'I apologize for this imposition, Amelie, I really do, but I'm afraid it was unavoidable. I need a woman for my purpose, and only you meet my requirements. Please, eat.'

He handed her a wooden covered in ragged slivers of rabbit meat. Amelie thought to throw it in his face, but her hunger overruled her. The rabbit smelled delicious, and she realized she had not eaten all day. Her stomach made demands that shouted down her anger and fear, and she shoveled the meat into her mouth as he watched.

For the first time she got a chance to study her captor in the firelight. He was taller than most, and much more heavily built. There seemed to be not an ounce of fat in his body. His pectorals bulged like curved plates, and beneath his thick chest his abs rippled, with every muscle sharply defined and moving smoothly under his skin. She'd never seen anyone so perfectly built in her life. Not even the drovers, huge men who came through the village guiding bulls by their horns, could match his physique. Where the drovers tended towards the portly this man was pure muscle.

It was as if he was built to a much larger scale than most. Every dimension was exaggerated, from his height to the thickness of his chest to the size of his large, strong hands. His golden hair ran to his shoulders like a mane, and everything about his face gave the impression of a predator preparing to strike.

His eyes, though, we're what really stood out. Beneath a wayward lock of hair they locked onto hers, captivating her. She found she couldn't look away, despite her wishes. The piercing blue seemed to glow in the light of the fire, and he returned her gaze steadily.

'I am Roman, king of the werewolves.' He spoke simply, as if this were a fact that could not possibly be disputed. Amelie watched wide eyed, suddenly realizing her captor was insane. 'I have chosen you to give me a child. You will accede to my wishes. You have no choice.'

Amelie was gripped with panic and more terrified than ever. If this man was truly insane he would be even more dangerous than she thought. He would surely kill her as soon as his broken mind directed him. Despite her lack of hope she new she must try to escape once more, as each moment in his presence brought her ever closer to death.

With a rush of energy she hurled her plate at Roman, leaping to her feet and pulling a burning branch from the depths of the fire. He watched her with amusement and she waved her torch madly back and forth.

'I will leave now, and if you pursue me I swear you will burn.' Her voice shook with fear, and Amelie felt a surge of anger that the man simply smiled benignly. She backed away slowly, edging towards the trees, and felt suddenly confident in her escape. Roman had yet to move, and in fact still ate from his plate of rabbit as she moved away. She made to turn, and heard a sigh from beside the fire.

It took only moments, but the memory would stay with her a lifetime. In one smooth, liquid motion the man rose to his feet and
changed.
He leaped forward, and by the time he had reached the ground he stood on four legs. She couldn't explain what she had seen. One moment there had been a man and the next there stood a wolf, growling threateningly beside the fire.

Amelie turned to flee, but she had barely moved before the wolf bore down on her back. The heavy body knocked her to her knees in the grass, and she waited for the sharp teeth to close over her throat at any moment.

But the bite did not come. Instead she felt hands, human hands, roughly pin her on her belly to the ground. Whatever lay atop her tugged at her shirt, tearing it easily from her body. Her skirt came next, pinching her skin where the string cord popped open with a sharp tug, and she felt it slide quickly down her legs. She lay naked and vulnerable, unable to move.

A strong hand lay on the small of her back, its pressure gauged perfectly to hold her entirely still without causing pain. She felt as if someone had laid a cart horse on her, so firm was the hold. She couldn't so much as twist onto her back. Another hand grasped her rear, firm and tight, squeezing her buttocks in a grip that fully covered one cheek. The hand was rough, but not violent. Her captor didn't seem to want to hurt her.

She felt hot, heavy breath on her neck, and a voice whispered in her ear. 'This is your destiny, Amelie. You are to be the queen of the wolves. You must not fight fate. You should not struggle.' Hot lips met her ear, biting a lobe gently, and Amelie gasped. She desperately wanted to escape, to run to safety, but something about the presence dominating her so easily brought familiar stirrings to her body. Her lust, already primed by her own touch earlier, tried to take control of her rational mind and she felt her hands, which she had intended to ball into fist to ward off the attack, dig into the soft, cool earth as her body shuddered in response to the kiss.

Her attacker's lips moved from her ear to her neck, and she shifted her head slightly to bare her pale, smooth skin. Teeth lightly nibbled her, eliciting an involuntary moan from her lips, and he felt a shiver run through her as the mouth moved down to her shoulder.

The hands on her back and buttocks shifted now, releasing her and moving to cover her own hands. Against the small of her back she felt his erection, firm and large, and she felt her rational mind release control of her body to her need. Just like in her darkest fantasies she was completely powerless. There was no hope of escape, and it was clear that there was nothing to stop her powerful captor from using her as he pleased.

Amelie felt disgusted at herself, but she couldn't deny her arousal. Her tight pussy, her private plaything that had so far never been filled by anything larger than her own slender fingers, responded instantly to the strong body holding her to the ground. She felt the slickness between her legs as her body prepared itself for what was to come.