"The straps are too tight."

"No, they are not. Just relax. Enjoy."

"No...really...I can't feel my hands."

"You are imagining things. Pay attention and quit complaining."

"Please..." moaning and beginning to cry. "Please...my feet...what's wrong with my feet?"

"Nothing."

Sobbing now. Then screaming. Then nothing.

As blood dripped onto the floor, she smiled, her fangs barely visible. Stripping the long, satin opera gloves off, she opened the heavy, oaken door and called for 1 and 2.

"Clean up the mess. And be sure to put away all my toys this time. The straps need oiling, and the English cane needs to be sanded a bit." She strode out of the dim room, her long red hair streeming around her.

1, the heavy set black wolf, growled at 2, who was smaller and somewhat timid. "We always have to clean up. Why?" 1 snatched a bit of thigh meat. "For this? This bit of rubbish? I am tired of playing maid to the bitch upstairs."

2 quivered a bit. "What if she hears you?" he slid up to the bloody mess and tore off a bit for himself. "I mean, she takes care of us and feeds us...and sometimes loves us."

1 grinned, blood running though his fur. He swung his massive head toward the slightly open door. "Yes...love. Let's show her a bit of...love."

2 Miles away:

syndl sat in her car gripping the streering wheel with tense fingers. she was furious! james ahd left her..there was no real reason. if he wasnt willing to play the way she liked, then why had he been at that bar?! why had he pretended?! was he hopping to change her? and anguisette?! she cursed a few times before starting the car and diring a few miles to a well known undergournd club. the bouncer wearing a lead on his neck admited her, she smoothed the leather of her small mini skirt and checked to make sure he knee high boots werent scuffed. she had come to the club before. now she was here in search of another master...

2 was appalled.

"Just what are you suggesting?" he murmured, exceptionally afraid she would overhear them. "You know tonight is the dark of the moon-we will be mortal tonight...she could do anything to us."

1 grinned. "Yes, she could...but we shall...distract her tonight. And we will behave until the full of the moon. Then...oh, then..." He stared at the heavy, iron banded door, his gaze sharpening. Suddenly, he spun around, standing on his hind legs, drawing himself up to his great height of 7 feet. "Brother, we will be free of the bitch...I promise you that!"

2 busied himself with cleaning up the remains. He dared not look at 1.

*************************************************************

She sat in the Library, perhaps the very finest room in the house. The house and grounds suited her, as it was an antebellum plantation, located at the base of the Appalachians, far away from any neighbors. She could stand on the Widow's Walk, and gaze at the great, dark forest, or at the fine, majestic mountains in the distance. Yes, it suited her well. She was close enough to a city to bring back all the willing lost boys and girls, yet far enough away for no one to bother her.

A fire was blazing in the great stone fireplace, and she had one lamp on for reading, but that was all the light in the vast, sprawling room. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling; great leather bound editions all the way down to ragged paperbacks. Every language was found in this room; she herself spoke 7 languages and could not bring herself to read Russian novels in anything but Russian. It was the elitist in her.

But something was wrong.

Usually, after finishing with whichever gender she happened to bring home, the boys were happy, even excited to have fresh meat.

The tension in the air was so apparent, she could have reached out...reached out and strangled it. They were plotting something again. She coolly turned the pages, not really reading at all, merely pretending to. The sound of the pages turning was loud in the silence of the house. She could hear their breathing, their racing hearts. Having dealt with their small uprisings before, she would again.

Night fell quickly in their part of the world. She gazed out the tall windows, noting the shadows as they spread. The heavens revealed their glory in the vast number of stars visible...oh, but the moon was not. The moon tides pulled at her--she knew it was the Dark of the Moon. So, she waited.

Suddenly, the French doors boomed open, bouncing off each adjacent wall. Dust of plaster from the ceiling drifted down.

"Must you make such an entrance, 1?" she coolly asked.

"I have a name." He smoothly replied. "Or have you forgotten?"

"I forget nothing, Adrian." She turned and looked at him, her robe loosely wrapped around her. "I choose to call you 1...it is my right. I do own you."

He stood before her, a man once more. Where black fur once was, was now intricate tattoos and piercings. He was tall, but heavily muscled. Black hair, so black it looked always wet, crowned him. His chest was covered in a light pelt which ran down to between his legs and framed the thick, heavy, hard cock waiting there. Gold rings were set in his wide-spaced nipples. His left ear held a thick, plain gold ring. But his cock and balls gleamed the most--a Prince Albert was there, as well as 6 smaller rings placed in a row up the bottom of the shaft. There were two rings placed high on his ball sack--they looked as if it has been a traumatic experience getting those in. Black tribal tattoos marked his arms and thighs. They danced and mingled on his back, so intertwined, one became dizzy just trying to look at them. His cock was so hard, it was purple; precome dripped on the floor.

She smiled cruelly at him. "Do be so kind as to clean that up...it will stain the rug."

With seemingly one move, he was across the room, tearing the robe off of her. She allowed it, and stood only in her red corset and lace pantalettes. As he was pulling at her wrists, they were interrupted by 2.

"My lady..." 2 stuttered, standing in the open doorway. He was smaller than 1, but more lithe...and fair. As fair as fresh snow. His blond hair spilled down around his shoulders, and he had more hair on his chest than 1. And much more around his long, thin cock. Where she had tattooed 1, and held him down as he screamed when she pierced him, she had branded 2. Scars ran all over 2's body--thin whitish lines whirling and twisting from his neck down. It has been a great deal of fun for her to strap him to the long table, then climb naked on top of him and sit on his chest. She had shown him her hands, and twirled the simple silver ring around and around, watching him sweat, his eyes getting larger and larger, and the pupils dilating in fear. She never said a word, but began running the silver ring down his skin; where the ring passed, the skin smoked and blistered. Oh, yes, she had had an exceptionally good time, leading to 2 even better orgasms. But the poor boy had screamed himself hoarse, finally losing conscience. The patterns were complete now; it had taken several sessions to cover his entire body.

2 knelt down, hiding his twitching, dripping cock. 1 snarled at him, "Get up, you stupid fuck!" He turned his attention back to her, his grey eyes sweeping over her. He attempted to pull her to him, but she slipped through his grasp, laughing lightly. He stumbled, suprised at her move. Quickly, he righted himself, and howled at her, "Damn it, you know at the Dark of the Moon, we have the right to you! It's the only fucking thing you allow us! Why the game, ...my lady?" he added sarcastically.

She stood in front of one of the windows for a moment, then turned to him. Faster than he could follow, she was behind him, her hands full of the hair on his head, pulling cruelly. Putting her face close to his, her fangs full and noticeable, she whispered, "Tonight, 1, you have to earn it."

((um..im just going to pop off, i suppose there isnt room for mine in this))

2 began whining, low in the back of his throat. He knew what "earning" meant. Torn, that's what he was, torn between his Mistress and his Brother...who was right?

She continued to pull 1's hair, harder, softer, until she was merely running her nails through the thick locks. Still whispering in his ear, she explained, "You pups are going to perform for me tonight." 1's cock twitched, and he hated it, hated it with everything he had. She slid around in front of him and took one of his hands. Slowly she ran her tongue over his fingers, and scaped the back of his hand with her fangs lightly. "No excuses,...Adrian."

2 jerked up, amazed she had used his Brother's real name. How many years had it been since she had called them anything but 1 and 2? He couldn't even remember. He crawled over to her, and began kissing her feet over and over again.

"Lovely, Elliot." Her hands ran through his hair softly. Then grabbing a handful of it, she yanked him to his feet. "Now, my 2 darling doggies, shall we retire to a more...appropriate...room?" Grasping each of their ballsacks, she led them out of the library, down the hall, and up a long flight of stairs.

*************************************************************

Her bedroom was everything an ultimately feminine bedroom would be. The ceiling was so high, the dimensions of the room could only be quessed at. Friezework of frolicking wolves danced around the walls. The massive bed was draped with gauzey fabric, and it shimmered and slithered with the slightest breath. The bed fabrics themselves were heavy damask--ancient and expensive to say the least. Rose-colored and chased with gold threading, it looked as if it were unused. On the far wall away from the bed was the vanity.

A vanity with no mirror.

The top was covered with girlish things...perfumes in delicate bottles and other cosmetics. The rug underfoot was plush rose pile. The walls, if not seen in daylight, could only be quessed at. Candles flickered...100? 200? and even with them, twilight held sway.

And then, there was the Highboy. The locked Highboy.

She dragged them both through the double doors by their balls, 1 growling, 2 whining. When she finally let go of them, 2 thought, I'll have her. He had been planning it all the way up the stairs...she lets go, he pounces.

She let go slowly, her nails scratching them. 1 gathered his feet under him and suddenly threw himself at her.

He landed hard on the floor, sliding into the highboy, the wind knocked out of him.

"In a hurry, 1?" she politely inquried.

"Bitch...stupid fucking bitch!" he howled, getting back to his feet quickly. He ran at her, swinging his huge arms.

He never made it. She swept down and grabbed the rings in his cock, pulling them up sharply. It were as if 1 were now made of stone, stopped in the middle of his run. He didn't dare move, the pain was incredible. Staring at her with the widened grey eyes, he slowly put his arms down, the only thought running through his head, let go, letgoletgoletgo,yousillybitch.

She pulled harder, and he went up on his toes, a deep rumbling moan forming in his throat. "Please..."

"Please what, 1?"

"Please...please let go." He meekly replied, sweating, hating himself.

She smiled, the ivory of her teeth standing sharply out in the darkness. "Ok. As long as you behave." One big final tug. Letting go, he fell to his knees, clutching himself.

"2."

"Ma'am?" came the timid reply.

"Unlace me."

He swiftly moved across the room to her, skirting around his sore Brother, and giving him only the slightest pittiful glance. She stood so regal, so proud, as if she were taller than the house itself. He felt very, very small. Reaching her, he could not meet her eyes, only gaze at the floor, the spot between her feet. His hands moved up, long fingers grasping at the ribbons that held the corset together. Slowly, he pulled the satin ribbon undone, and gathered the deep red ribbon to himself.

She pulled the corset off, keeping her back to her two pets. Laying it across the highboy, she then said, "2."

"Ma'am?" he whispered.

"My panties, pup. They need to go as well."

Shivering, he reached his hands out and grasped the waistband of the lacy panties. He drew them down, revealing her fine-shaped ass. She lifted one delicate, small foot, and then the other. Her hair came down almost to her waist, a deep chestnut that burned with a fire all its own. The candlelight shined off her smooth, ivory skin. Then, she turned around.

Her eyes were green emeralds, her lips red as fresh-spilled blood. Breasts that defied gravity and stood large and proud, the nipples thick and dark. She smiled at her two dog soldiers.

"Now, boys, join me on the bed."

2 came hurriedly, climbing up beside her, still not meeting her eyes. 1 was slower, more deliberate, his grey eyes smoldering with pure hate.

She slid back till she was leaning back against the massive headboard. "Now...entertain me, and perhaps I will not be so severe."

2 knew the routine. This certainly wasn't the first time she had wanted such things, but he knew 1 despised playing the harlot for her. He looked over at his Brother, and leaned over to kiss his thigh. 2 just stared at her, his cock even harder, if that were possible, despite the loathing he felt about her games. He felt 2's kisses, and absentmindedly ran one large hand through 2's hair.

"What's the matter, Adrian?" She mocked him. "No lust left in the alpha male?"

"Enought of this, you silly cunt!" 1 whispered very evenly, staring out the window at the pinkening sky. "You lost track of time, my dear...the dawn is coming."

She looked at him, a bit confused, "What do you mean, 1? Daylight has never bothered me. Quit stalling."

He grinned savagely at her. "The dawn may not bother you, but it bothers us..." his words became lower and lower. "The Dark of the Moon is over." He raised his hands to press the point...dark claws had appeared, ripping through the tips of his fingers.

Her eyes widened; the truth was evident. She flung herself off the bed, landing on the balls of her feet. She had control of her pets, but the change was never good. They were too unstable, too unpredictable. How could she have been so stupid to forget the time?

1 and 2's bodies writhed on the bed, in constant motion. She ran to the Highboy, flung open a drawer, and drew out a black signal whip, the fall on it brightly red. 1's eyes caught hers, and he howled, his muzzle appearing, fangs growing, and black fur spreading. She slowly swung the whip back and forth, a deadly pendulum. "No ideas, 1. None, or I will take the skin off your back." 2 had changed quicker than 1...perhaps it was because he was smaller. Where his scars had run, ivory fur now ran. Otherwise, he was snow white, with icy blue eyes. 2 gracefully, sleekly, got off the bed, and stood on his hind legs, his cock something to behold now. Where before it had been thin, but long, now it was the size of a baby's arm, and just as thick. He was rampantly hard.

That will not feel good, she thought. At one time, when she had first claimed them, it had been exciting to let them have their way with her in their beast form. She had not allowed it in...God knows how long...how many years. She drew herself up, not showing the least bit of fear.

1 had finished changing by this time, and he didn't bother to get up just yet. He stretched out on her bed, black fur gleaming. Where his tattoos were, was now blueish grey fur in the exact patterns. And he had kept his piercings. But his cock...now it was the size of her forearm, and thicker around. Turning his massive head, he stared at her, mocking her, as he grasped that thick member with one paw. Slowly, languidly, he stroked himself, and laughed at her.

That she could not stand. Screaming in an unearthly way, her fangs bared to the fullest, she brought the whip around, throwing it like a pitcher throwing the finest fastball of his life...and brought it down right onto 1's balls. He squeeked, the only sound he could make, and drew his legs up, clutching his balls at the same time. Smiling to herself, she thought, well, that takes care of that...

When suddenly, thick arms surrounded her, and ripped the whip from her hands. 2 had come around behind her, and grabbed her from behind, his paws full of her breasts, and his cock a piece of iron poking her in the back. His muzzle was right against her head, his breath hot and rancid. Growling low, he licked her ear.

"2!" she screamed. "Unhand me and I might let you live!"

"My name...is Elliot!" he howled back at her, lifting her up, and then spearing her exceptionally wet cunt with his cock.

1 couldn't believe what he was seeing---2...little Elliot...standing up to her? Hell, 2 had his cock in her...wait a minute...2 HAS HIS COCK IN HER FIRST! Enraged that his "little brother" would dare overrule his supremacy, he shot up and wrapped his arms around 2's waist to pull him off, and had his teeth buried in the deep hair on the back of 2's throat.

A note from the author--this story is going to come to a head soon, I promise...just no time to write today. Give me some input--what do you think?

As 1 attempted to pull 2 off of her, she actually began to push herself against him. His cock felt incredible in her-thick and full and filling her up. She locked her legs around him, pulled him deeper, and looked 1 full in the face. 1 still had his teeth buried in the hair on the back of 2's neck, and was furiously pulling, until he noticed her looking at him.

"Get back," she moaned, her eyes rolling back as 2 went particularly deep. "Don't stop him. You'll get your turn, 1. Maybe." She moved one of her hands between her legs and began stroking her clit. 1 let go reluctantly, and 2 immediately cradled her ass in his paws, claws digging in, and carried her, impaled on his cock, over across the room so her back was against one of the windows. Then, growling deep, he truly went to work-thrusting deep in her, pulling all the way out, and plunging back in that sopping, hot cunt. One hand buried in his fur, the other busy rolling over her clit, she knew she was going to cum soon. Feeling her cunt tightening around his cock, he began to thrust harder and faster. She came hard, grinding her cunt against him, screaming her pleasure.

can I join?