Chapter 8

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me,” Lola says, giving the older woman a hug.

“It wasn’t a problem,” Vanessa says. “Enjoy the gift.”

“I will,” the girl says, pushing her pink, square framed glasses onto her face. “I just hope Scotty will like it.”

“I’m sure he will,” Vanessa says, watching the girl slip through the exit. She stands there for a moment longer, thinking about the idea of giving such a gift on Christmas Eve. Her enjoyment of both the silence and thoughts are interrupted by her co-worker.

“That was certainly something special you did for her,” Johnny says, dropping a folder onto the desk. “You keep doing that and this place will become a charity foundation rather than a genetic research lab.”

Vanessa turns to face the man. “One free thing on Christmas isn’t going to hurt anything or anyone,” she says. “Besides, think of it as free testing.”

“Yeah, if we were in the testing phase,” he counters with a sarcastic grin.

“Well, we are,” she corrects. “We’re just not legally allowed to go forward with it yet.”

“That kind of thinking could do us in,” the man warns.

“Only if someone finds out,” she points out.

“And you don’t think old Scotty is going to say anything?” Johnny asks.

“Oh trust me when I say that Scotty is not only in for a surprise, but the gift of a lifetime,” she says by way of an answer.

“And you know this how?” he asks. “Have you talked to Scotty?”

“Didn’t have to,” she says. “Lola told me everything about the conversations they have had, and his most inner secrets that he has only ever told her.”

“It could still backfire,” Johnny warns.

“It won’t,” she says. “The only one I’d have to worry about is you.”

Johnny quickly holds up his hands and waves them through the air. “I ain’t telling anyone.”

“I know,” Vanessa says. “Have a good night. Merry Christmas, and tell Robby the same.” She leaves the man wondering what she meant by her knowing.

Being a single woman that devotes all her time to work doesn’t leave much by way of a social life or family. With either comes a lack of sex and a whole lot of loneliness, especially around the holidays. But that doesn’t stop her from fulfilling at least one need.

She slips into the restroom of the closest bar and changes out of her lab coat and work clothes and into a candy cane hooded dress with red and white metallic striped long sleeves. It is trimmed with white faux fur, looking very much like Christmas. To top it off, she slips on white faux boots. She takes a seat at the bar, and to no surprise, it doesn’t take long before someone approaches her.

The man, muscular with light brown hair sits down next to her. “Excuse me? I don’t mean to pry, but are you waiting for someone?” He is wearing jeans and a sweater, certainly nothing of her caliber.

And still she expected some kind of cheesy line, but he doesn’t even seem to be trying. It doesn’t matter because she is at the bar for one specific reason. “Sort of,” she says.

“Is he running late?” the man asks.

Vanessa looks at him and smiles. “It depends on your point of view.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” he says.

Vanessa plays with the straw in her drink and shrugs. “Doesn’t matter, does it?”

“I suppose not,” he says. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“I already have one,” she puffs. “Besides, I know what you’re here for.”

“And that is?”

“Sex.”

“No kidding?”

Vanessa nods. “Isn’t every man alone in a bar?”

“Is every woman that goes to a bar looking to get laid?” he counters.

“Probably not,” she concurs. “But you are. So let’s just cut the bullshit and go somewhere to fuck. You’re not interested in my life and I’m not looking. My career comes first and you’re married.”

“Married?”

“Yeah, married,” she nods. “I can see the tan line on your ring ringer. You remove it to pick up chicks.”

“You’re insightful,” he murmurs. “My name is Hank.”

“Vanessa.” Her lipstick is fresh and shiny, and she has a gorgeous mouth. Her lips are full and a bit pouty. With the exception of the lipstick she doesn’t have on any makeup. She is pretty enough to not need it.

“Glad to meet you Vanessa,” he says. “So where do you have in mind to fuck?”

She tosses back a strand of her blonde hair in a way that is provocative. Then she takes a sip of her drink. She looks Hank right in the eyes. “And who is to say that you can give me what I want? I mean you’re not at home giving it to your wife.”

“I give it to hard soft and passionate,” he says.

“I don’t want soft and passionate,” she says.

“I figured that much,” he counters. “I come out to satisfy my need for rough.”

“So you like to manhandle women?”

“I don’t, no,” he answers with a frown. “But there is this part of me that has to. I have to let him out to satisfy his need.”

“You sound like a modern Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” she remarks. “And I take it that your wife doesn’t like rough?”

Hank shakes his head. “That’s the problem, I think she does.”

“So why not give it to her?”

“Because I don’t want her to see him.”

Vanessa finishes her drink and pushes the glass away. “Now you have me intrigued,” she says. “I don’t think you mean him as in another side of you, but something else entirely.”

“You can say that,” Hank agrees. She looks at the man and he looks at her. He feels a stirring in his chest and in his groin. He feels the desire rising in him like a beast from the jungle, jaws strong and teeth gleaming. “So, where did you have in mind for the fuck?”

“Well,” she says standing up off the stool. “I don’t make it a habit of bringing anyone back to my apartment. And since you’re married, how about your car?”

“While that sounds like fun, we can use the alley,” he says.

“A bit chilly for that, isn’t it?”

“I’ll be warm,” he answers with a sinister grin. “Trust me when I say, so will you.”

Vanessa shrugs and Hank leads her out of the place and right into the alley right next door. The alley is dark and the wind is fiercely cold. Except for the bar, everything else is closed. He presses her to the wall as soon as they enter he kisses her. He just takes her by the front of the dress and pulls her close and kisses her. She isn’t startled or surprised. There is no resistance, but she doesn’t kiss back either. She just stands there and lets him kiss her.

The effect on Hank is electric and instantaneous. He pushes her down the brick a little more before pressing himself against her, holding her face beneath the hood in his hands as he kisses and feeds on her mouth as if he were drawing nourishment from her lips. Hank is suddenly on fire. Like a dam bursting, he is bursting with desire and the need for control. He kisses her and she lets him, but he needs to feel more of a response than this. He needs some kind of acknowledgment of the ferocity of his need.

Instinctively, the man tears open the top of her dress and slides his hand inside, seeking her warmth. He finds her breasts, heavy and full in his hand. He squeezes it. He massages it. He presses her against eh wall and kisses her, and squeezes her and finally she feels it—the barest whisper of a moan against his lips, her admission of desire. His hand continues its exploration inside her dress and his fingers find the little bump of her nipple and he strokes it. The nub rises up as if begging for attention and he takes it in his fingers and pinches it, softly at first. But when he hears her moan he does it harder. Vanessa gasps—a little sound of surprise—and leans back against the wall, eyes closed and waiting. Hank pinches it again and again and she groans, arching her back against the brick, pushing herself into his hand.

That is it! The fire inside the man burns so hot that it cannot be contain any longer. Like a roaring beast, a creature transforming in the night, Hank changes. His clothes rip asunder. His already large muscles expand even more. His skin changes. Fur grows where no fur should be on a man. It’s everywhere. It turns white, the orange come in, followed by brown stripes. Before Vanessa knows it, there is a six and a half foot tiger on to legs with a huge flopping cock hanging between its legs. Without a word, the beast tears at her dress, matching the state of his clothing. The woman is left wearing white stockings with red stripes. She is stunning. And even though there is this monstrosity standing before her now, she stands so straight that he can see her with her eyes focused on a point.

“You have found me and you’re not scared?” he asks.

“No,” she says defiantly. “I deal with monsters all the time. But I have yet to fuck one.”

Hank takes his time looking at her. The white boots, the candy cane stripped stockings. She doesn’t have on panties or a bra, so that is all she wears. “Turn around,” he orders.

Vanessa turns slowly as if she is the one in complete control. And maybe she thinks she is working with monsters all day. But maybe not today. As she turns fully around to face him, her face and chest are flushed. Maybe it’s the cold or embarrassment or even pride ... regardless of what it is, she doesn’t meet his eyes.

Hank’s cock growing quickly into a full blown erection. Vanessa eyes don’t lift because she is afraid of him, they don’t lift because she is fascinated with him. More specifically, she is fascinated with a certain part of his anatomy. This side of him feeds off domination, she feeds off his arousal. This is hot! So hot that despite the wintery cold air, the woman is starting to perspire. Tendrils of blonde hair cling to her shoulder and back.

Hank’s eyes drop to her crotch where a small patch of air covers it. From the looks of it and her statement earlier, she tries to take care of it, but complete management of the area is out of the question. It doesn’t matter though because she is going to fulfill his needs and desires. “Bend against the wall,” he orders her.

Vanessa does as she is told. Part of her wonders what would happen should she disobey. That same part tells her not to because in reality she is looking to get fucked for Christmas, not wind up as shish kabobs. She leans over and puts her hands on the icy cold brick. The woman’s breasts hang heavy beneath her. Her pussy peeks out from behind, inches from his prick.

Hank grips his steely tool and drives it right up into her. “I get the feeling you’re the boss,” he growls. “Does it make you angry to lose all that control?”

“No.”

“Does it embarrass you?” He reaches up and strokes her hanging breasts with the tips of his claws until he finds her nipples again and begins to tease them.

“Yes.”

Hank smiles. “Is it because you are a woman of power, and submitting is like defeat?”

Her breathing becomes hard. It could be because he has his thick prick rammed far up into her or it could be because the way she feels now is totally different than how she normally does. And maybe that is it. She is strong, fighting for what she wants, sometimes clawing her way to the top to get it. And then there is this need, like something feral, to be used, to be stepped on, to be taken advantage of.

“Your nipples are getting hard,” Hanks says in a low growl. “And you’re getting wetter. Are you thinking about how good I am going to fuck you?” A little moan escapes her lips and a little shudder comes over her body. “This is one hell of a Christmas present for you and me.”

Vanessa’s lips are swollen and parted. Her eyes are squeezed shut. “Yes,” she breathes softly. “Yes it is.”

Hank feels a little thrill in his chest, a sudden flush of heat at her confession. He pulls free of her, letting the cold air take the place he was just occupying. The woman shudders even more. He doesn’t make her suffer for too long. Again the beast makes contact with his cock. He uses the tip to plow her open once more. Vanessa is hot and sticky and more than ever ready. She groans deeply when he makes contact. He studies her face at first, excited by her look of rapt concentration, but then he has to look down at the sight of the tip of his prick between her furry folds, just beginning to penetrate her.

“Her voice is all breath when she says, “Please ... please...”

Hank pushes her against the cold brick and stands up. This here is a woman used to getting what she wants even when it comes down to giving herself completely over to someone else’s control. But maybe those who she has fucked and dominated her just were too scared to go to the extreme. Maybe it’s bad for her that she has finally met her match. This side of Hank is all feral with no side of humanity left behind. He takes her arms and guides her roughly to the freezing hard ground the way he wants her. She is totally compliant, a rag doll burning with the need and willingness to do whatever he wants. He arranges the woman with her knees against a smelly trash can, elbows on the lid, ass up and thighs apart.

Vanessa mewls softly. I could be from the smell or it could be from her lack of control. She does so especially when he makes her part her legs more to expose herself. It is a lewd and revealing posture, and it excites her about as much as it does him. Her folds are puffy and swollen. Her tight slit glistens with a stream of moisture that is threatened to ice over from the frigid air. Hank stands behind her and runs his claws over her body and over her ass. They move back up along her back, then around her sides and beneath to grab her heavy, swinging mounds. He breathes heavy himself, making no effort to disguise it. He is on fire and excited like never before. This is a curse that he has had to live with. And it has been one every time he has had to take a woman. But here is the first that is willing despite what she sees. His prick feels like it might burst, but he has to maintain control of his own. While he is all feral, he cannot kill her. He never has, but then again he has never felt this before.

“You look gorgeous like this, Vanessa,” he growls. “You look like you were made for this. You look impossibly beautiful.”

She was made for this. In the back of her mind, the thing she has always tried to run away is always there, just as it is now. She was made for this, and while it has made her strong, it has also made her weak.

Hank pats her folds with his clawed thumb and she jumps, shocked at being touched by such sharp fingers. But her fear doesn’t last when realizing his surprising gentleness. She is all pink and glistening inside, whereas the outside is angry red from the blistering cold. She is wet and he is able to slide effortlessly into her. Vanessa gasps and puts her head down on her arms, the only protection against the numbing cold of the metal lid.