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I lower my hand and it brushes the now hard and upright appendage. It’s annoying and likely to get ripped off in a fight. But touching it feels nice, even with my hard, clawed hands.
I know instantly that her soft hands would feel much better.
I run my fingers over the length, telling myself it’s to become familiar with the change and what it does. My stomach tightens and heat rolls through my blood, but there’s no rage and desire to kill that usually accompanies the hot sensation.
This is somehow different.
I wrap my fist around the now thick and aching appendage. Why does it seem to hurt like it’s aching to be touched, but touching it only makes it worse? What use is it?
I work my fist up and down, taking my time to try to understand what is going on. After a few breaths, it’s clear I have no idea, but I don’t want to stop either as it has begun to feel pleasurable. Like ripping into an unchanged one and savoring that first quivering bite.
My hand works faster.
I don’t want to bite her, though. I want her hands on me. Working over the length. My hand moves faster as I imagine her kneeling before me, hands pumping. The heat lodges in my belly and my pulse pounds in my ears. Something is about to happen; I can feel my guts twisting. I should stop.
What if another grows?
But I can’t stop. Watching them sleep together, holding each other and remembering the way the monster mounted her…
My body jerks and the appendage expels a load of something hot and white that spatters on the ground and over my hand. The release is instant and for a heartbeat I am light and…and giddy? I want to smile and revel in the sensation.
Footsteps in the tunnel shatter the moment. Guilt swells and swallows the glee.
What is wrong with me? I glance at them in the cell and lay the blame alongside their sleeping forms. Every time I come here; I am less like myself.
I turn to confront whoever is coming.
There should be no intruders in the castle, but some monsters try hoping to join the queen’s service and have the honor of living in the castle. Others want to take the queen’s throne. They are the ones I defend the queen from.
The ones we captured for her? I didn’t think they were a threat. But they have changed me without a fight, so they are more dangerous than I thought. Perhaps the queen was right to demand their capture before they could create trouble or gain the numbers to challenge the queen.
The footsteps grow louder. They aren’t trying to be silent.
I step away from the sharp tang of my spill on the ground, embarrassed that someone else might notice it. The guard who accompanied me to catch Julie steps out of the shadows.
He peers at me with his small, dark eyes. “What are you doing here?”
I lift my chin. I have as much right to be here as him. “Checking to make sure they are contained and to see if there is two or three.”
He grunts and stares past me. “Are they dead?”
“No, sleeping.”
He bares his teeth. “They sleep touching?”
“Apparently.” Thinking about the way they are sleeping is enough to make my appendage twitch.
His wide, flat nostrils flare. “What happened to you?”
“A scuffle caused a change.” The lie falls smoothly off my tongue, but to my ears it has a hollow ring. What kind of scuffle cause the growth of such a useless limb? I can’t use it in a fight. It is a liability.
But when I touched it, I felt free for a few breaths.
What use is that kind of release? It is a lie. One that has claws and teeth and will eventually claim me. Maybe that is how death feels. A burst of pleasure, then the release from living.
I don’t want to die, but if it feels like that, followed by no more fighting, it wouldn’t be so bad.
He stares at my appendage. I’m very glad it remains still instead of thickening and lifting under his gaze. “You look like one of those that belongs outside the castle.”
