The woman moaned as the were-bears pressed their paws onto the stone and began to lick at her skin. One clawed at the collar of her flimsy dress, tearing it open to reveal her breasts, and my breath hiccuped in my chest as a great, damp, black nose began to nuzzle her skin. She moaned and began to twist in sleep, but it was difficult to tell if it was fear or arousal.
Both. This is about both and where they meet, I realized. And I loved it. I wanted to be the woman on the stage, not just watching her.
Auguste's arm drew me back to him, and I almost objected until his head bowed and he began to suck and lick at my neck and shoulders, fangs occasionally scratching softly. Ohhh, yes that was better, to be touched as I watched. Jonathon took my arm, his eyes fixed to the stage as he teased the tender flesh on the inside where I was most sensitive.
I sighed, and Auguste raised a hand, forcing it into the tight collar of my gown to cup and roll my breast.
On stage, the girl was waking, moans and whimpers frequent as the were-bears licked and nibbled her as a feast. One was burrowing and exploring its way up between her thighs, and I let out a small cry of sympathy as Auguste nipped my throat and the creature found her center, licking enthusiastically.
"Oh, Christ. Will we get in trouble?" I whispered.
Jonathon laughed at that, glancing at me as the other were-bear tore open the rest of the dress, climbing up onto the stone and presenting its cock to the girl's face.
"Not even if we were on the floor with the others," Jonathon answered. "Although it would be harder to keep you to ourselves."
"Then someone get me out of this dress and fuck me," I gasped.
Auguste only laughed. "The show's barely begun! Surely you can wait for act two."
"You really only have one act in you?" I answered back, a little tartly, and Jonathon buried his own laugh behind his hand.
"You'll wait, Miss Reed," Jonathon said, firm but sweet, brow arching and eyes glinting green.
I pressed my lips together, wanting to argue but forgetting what I would say as the were-bear at the woman's head finally found his cock's way into her mouth, muffling her cry of pleasure. He was at her side, arched slightly over her but not enough to block the audience's view, feeding her the tip. She mewled loudly, squirming and suckling, and I licked my lips as I watched.
"I'd feed you too if it wouldn't block your view," Auguste murmured to me, which was wicked but appreciated. As much as I wanted to be enjoying the activities, I also didn't want to miss what was next.
The lights were dimming on the stage as the girl cried around her were-bear's cock again, the second one still burrowing and licking her core. An appreciative clap rose up from the audience, and the shadow of the stone platform lowered.
"Don't frown. There's more to come," Jonathon promised, kissing my temple.
"They didn't fuck her properly," I said, fighting my own pout of sympathy.
Auguste grinned at me. "They'll be back. That was an appetizer."
I rolled my eyes at him, but on stage, shadows were moving, and my fingers squeezed around Jonathon's as I waited for the lights to rise again.
My eyes widened as they did.
There on the stage, were five new human figures, spaced out in a V shape. Four had their bodies trapped by the neck and wrists in dark stockades. The two in the middle were bent forward with asses high and entirely naked, a woman on the right and a man on the left. The two at the front of the stage were kneeling, trapped to the floor, foreheads resting on velvet pillows this time with the man on the right and the woman on the left. The fifth, at the center, was a woman shackled by her wrists in chains held high above her head.
The humans were silent, each lit by their own spotlight, the girls' hair braided in crowns on their heads. There was something reverent to the scene, as if they were in the middle of a prayer, but it wasn't an angel who walked onto the stage first.
He looked like one of the men from a Rooksgrave painting, skin the color of coal with vast shimmering black wings like a bat's spreading out from his back. He had dark curling horns and eyes that glowed with fire. He was nude, thick with muscle, and his cock was knobbly and tapered, exceptionally thick at the base. He walked to the girl chained at the back center first, lowering himself to his knees before her, like a worshipper.
One of her legs raised, hooking over his shoulder, her toes pressing into his back, and then the second did the same, his horns forming a heart around her pelvis as he leaned in and began his meal of her. She rocked onto his face, chains jangling above her head, her breasts rising and falling with her breaths, body beginning to bounce with a familiar rhythm.
"Demon," Auguste whispered to me. "Forked tongue."
"Don't make me jealous," I snapped back.
"Lean forward."
I did, gladly, hands wrapping tight around the railing, sighing slightly as Auguste began to loosen the laces of my dress. It was a start at least.
On the stage, another monster appeared, this one more like a man, tan skin but intensely scarred, with eyes a milky white, hands thick and feet undefined. No, not a man and not scars. He was like Booker, but made of clay! He carried a great paddle in his hands, and the demon ended his feast on his knees as the clay man approached.
The chained woman's legs were trembling as her toes touched the floor. She hadn't come, as far as I could tell, but her spotlight shined on a film of arousal on her sex. The clay man stepped behind her, raised the paddle, and brought it to her ass with a crack! echoing through the theater. I gasped at the sound, but the woman just went slack in her chains as if the slap had brought her a relief that the demon's mouth hadn't.
The demon moved to a woman bent over, hands and neck fastened. He wrapped her hips in his claw-tipped grip, and I swallowed hard, catching one quick breath before he was thrusting inside of her.
"Yes!"
It was the first word spoken, and it made me jolt in my seat. Unlike the woman in chains, the one in the stockade was loud and enthusiastic with her praise, rising to her toes and pleading for more. The demon's wings beat in the air as he thrust, fiery gaze focused on where they were joined, and he, too, began to growl and grunt.