From: an137025@anon.penet.fi (Alias Undercover)
Reply-To: an137025@anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Red in Tooth & Claw (mf nc snuff horror)
Date: Tue, 15 Aug 1995 15:03:12 UTC
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Message-ID: <151312Z15081995@anon.penet.fi>



WARNING:  If violent sex upsets you, don't read this.  If rape upsets 

you, don't read this.  If blood, permanent damage, snuff, wet sandy 

bathing suits or politically incorrect portrayals of oppressed animals 

upset you, don't read this.



AUTHOR'S PREFACE:  This is a nasty little story based on my own 

musings on certain horror-story-based roleplaying games.  It is very 

dark (ultraviolet) fantasy, set in a world like our own, but in which 

magick and inhuman creatures really exist.



It is also totally politically incorrect.  In my defense (the story doesn't 

need defending, it can take care of itself, thank you) let me say that I 

am a tough, well-adjusted feminist female in a perfectly normal 

relationship, who based this story on my own fantasies, with myself as 

the snuff-ee.  I have always had fantasies like this, and gave up fighting 

them when I gave up reading Mary Daly and punishing my boyfriend 

(now husband) for being penis-ridden.  If you don't have fantasies like 

this, (I'll say it again) DON'T READ THIS.  



[Penis-ridden husband's addendum:  I'm posting this on behalf of my 

wife (see tirade --excuse me, "preface" -- above), who is so tragically 

unhip that she does not yet occupy information space with the rest of 

us trendoids.  To add to her already fairly complete warning message 

above, if you are either (a) under 18, or (b) a Midwestern Democratic 

Senator completing his (thank God) last term of office, DO NOT 

READ THIS!!!!]



=============



RED IN TOOTH AND CLAW



    by Verity Chastain



The canyon floor was cool, its shade and moist air making it almost 

chilly here despite the sudden drop in the sea breeze coming from the 

shore behind her.  The noise from the few families and kids playing 

hooky who had decided to take advantage of the warm October 

weekday by going to the beach also seemed almost to disappear.  Even 

just a few hundred yards up the canyon, the sense of isolation, peace 

and timelessness was enveloping.  She pulled her sweatshirt from 

around her waist and put it on over her slightly damp swimsuit.  That 

and the skirt she had pulled on before she left the beach were enough to 

protect her from the chill, and now that she had found a path out of the 

shallow stream, she was able to keep her bare feet from getting too 

cold.  She pushed the wisps of long, red hair that had escaped from her 

braid out of her green eyes, and continued climbing up the canyon.  



She was quite pleased with herself that she had decided to leave the 

beach and explore this unknown territory alone, with no idea of where 

the path led to or what she would find.  She didn't get out of the city 

very often, especially not since she had begun her unusual course of 

studies with Raban, once her college psych professor and now...well, if 

she were to believe him (and she didn't, at least not all the time) now 

he was her guru, her spiritual guide.  Hell, might as well admit it...she 

was his apprentice in (lord, how she hated even saying the word to 

herself) Magick.  Big "M", "k" at the end.  Booga booga.  Well, she 

had come up here to avoid thinking about all this shit.  And what better 

place, since Raban had told her that until she was "ready" (whatever 

that meant) she should avoid leaving the city, and most especially that 

she mustn't go up the coast past Sunset.  "There are...'things' (Raban 

was a master at meaningful pauses and spoken quotes) in the 

wilderness up there that could...cause you difficulties. They probably 

wouldn't bother you in a crowd, but it is best to play it safe.  If you 

must go to the beach to work on that surfer girl tan, go south. And 

don't go alone."  Well, she needed a little rebellion in her life, and 

figured that twenty miles up Highway 1 would do it, but the happy 

tourists made the beach seem too tame.  Thus, her little walk in the 

"woods."  Even this was pretty pathetic, by her old standards.  She was 

used to real wilderness, and just the other side of PCH didn't really 

qualify.  But it was quiet enough  and isolated enough for her to at least 

relax for a while.  It would do.  



After walking for about a half an hour, she found that the brush on the 

trail was thick enough to prevent a bare-footed girl in a skirt from 

getting through comfortably.  She found a big rock overlooking the 

stream, and curled up on it to rest for a few minutes before heading 

back toward her beach towel, her car, and eventually, her newly weird 

life.  



She lost track of the time, but the sun angle had changed only a little on 

the cliff wall when she was startled out of her reverie by a quiet 

splashing around the bend upstream from her perch.  For a moment she 

froze, heart pounding, as she waited to see what would appear, afraid 

Raban's vague predictions were about to come true.  When a very 

normal looking guy rounded the curve, his eyes on his footing, not even 

noticing she was there, she sighed in relief. As he came closer, she 

studied him.  He was tall and slim, dressed in a khaki long-sleeved shirt, 

open at the neck, and denim cut-offs.  He, too, was barefoot.  She 

shifted on the rock, and he looked up quickly at the noise and met her 

eyes.  His eyes were gray, set deep in a conventionally handsome, 

friendly-looking face.  He smiled.  "Hi!  You startled me."  "Sorry, I 

didn't mean to,"  she said, smiling back.  "I was kind of lost in thinking 

and I guess I forgot how to talk for a minute."  He laughed, climbing 

the bank toward her.  "I have the same problem, when I hike up here 

for too long.  Nice getting away from the city, isn't it?"  "Yeah, it's 

great, even if we are only about a mile from the highway.  It feels 

farther."  He leaned against the rock and looked up at her.  "Well, it's 

farther than you'd think from civilization here.  The park service pretty 

much leaves this area alone, and a lot of wild things have learned to live 

in the little spaces that people miss.  Until the developers show up, of 

course."  She frowned at that.  "They're not actually considering 

developing up here, are they?"  He grinned wolfishly.  "Well, they 

were.  They're not so keen on it anymore, though.  Accidents, I guess."  

"Good!"  she laughed.  "Yeah," he said, "the city has eaten enough land 

around here.  But humans never know when to stop."  "I guess that's 

how we are, no limits.  I'm glad, though, that there are a few of us like 

you who try to take care of the rest of nature."  He looked at her for a 

moment.  "It's nice to meet a kindred spirit.  Want me to show you a 

little more of the canyon?"  She looked at the changing sun angle and 

shook her head.  "Maybe some other time.  I've really got to get back."  

"Too bad.  Let me walk you back, then.  It's the least I can do."  He 

reached up to help her off the rock.  She jumped down, and started 

heading back down the trail.  She turned her head to look at him, and 

saw something swinging, fast, toward her head.  Then she saw nothing.



Consciousness came back slowly.  First, she was aware of her body, 

that her head hurt, that her arms felt numb, her jaw ached, and her 

movement was restricted.  Then, she noticed sounds - a rushing in her 

ears that was replaced by noise, at first indecipherable, eventually 

resolving into loud industrial rock music.  At last, she opened her eyes.  

The blurriness took a minute to clear, and then she found herself 

looking at a large, plain, dimly lit room.  The walls and floor were 

rough planking, with only one large rug in the center.  There were no 

windows, and what light there was came from candles on the floors and 

rough tables and from a fire in a large rock fireplace in one wall.  An 

open door in the wall opposite her was open, the space beyond it dark.  

The music was coming from that direction. All this she took in without 

really processing the information.  It was a while before she became 

able to question her situation, to remember who she was, where she 

had last been, and to really become aware of her condition.  As soon as 

she woke up fully, though, the numbness that had blanketed her 

thinking was blasted away by a raging, panicky fear.  She was standing 

upright, bare feet on the rough boards, and her hands were suspended 

over her head.  When she jerked back her head to look up, she was 

rewarded with a stabbing pain in her head for moving too fast and the 

sight of her hands manacled with steel cuffs and chained to the wall 

with a massive eye bolt.  Pulling on the cuffs produced no result other 

than pain in her arms and some clanking.  Panicked, she screamed, only 

to realize that the pain in her jaws was the result of a gag which was 

strapped into her mouth, with a large bulb which tasted like leather 

between her teeth and holding her tongue down.  Trying to push the 

gag out was about as successful as her earlier attempts at freeing 

herself.  She did a quick survey of the rest of her body.  Mercifully, her 

clothes were all still intact, and nothing else hurt much, except for some 

stiffness in her legs.  She wondered how long she had been there, 

unconscious.  Obviously, the man she had met had brought her here.  

Frantically trying to reason out her situation, she concluded that having 

manacles bolted to one's wall wasn't usual behavior for a mugger, or 

even a garden variety rapist.  She obviously couldn't talk her way out 

of this one, at least not unless he removed the gag.  The best she could 

hope for was that he would finish with her and let her go.  She clung to 

that thought.



After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, afraid, for something, 

anything, to happen, she heard movement in the room beyond, and a 

man's voice, singing along with NIN.  Suddenly she wished that the 

waiting would continue, since every possibility she could come up with 

for what would happen next was worse, much worse, than being 

chained to a wall.  But the nightmare, when it came, was more horrible 

than anything she could have dreamed up.  When he finally entered the 

room, he barely glanced at her, though she willed him to notice her 

silent pleading.  He moved to the fire and began to unbutton his shirt, 

talking quietly, almost to himself more than to her.  "It's been a long, 

long time since I indulged myself like this.  I try to maintain a low 

profile, like most of my kind, and I try to satisfy my peculiar wants with 

music, and video, and memories.  But I really couldn't pass this up."  

He laughed, and approached her, shedding his shirt and draping it over 

a nearby table.  "A baby mage, all alone, wandering into my territory.  I 

thought it was a trap, it had to be.  No one ever accused your kind of 

being stupid - greedy, vicious and egocentric, yes, but not stupid.  But 

there you were, right where I sensed you would be, no one else around, 

no safeguards, no clue that I was anything but some bumbling eco-idiot 

hiker.  No, I couldn't pass that up."  He looked into her face, saw the 

confusion there.  "Gods, you still don't have a clue, do you?  No 

training at all, then, just enough magick to make you stink of it to 

anything even half aware, and not enough to save yourself from it."  

Laughing, his eyes glittering with pleasure, he unbuttoned his shorts.  

"It would be criminal to reject a gift like you.  I'll never get an 

opportunity like this again."  Naked, he moved to face her, staring into 

her terrified eyes.  "Oh, babyface,"  he crooned, stroking her cheek, 

"you were made for this.  I needed you, and you came.  And I'll show 

you so much before we're through."  He moved away, pacing restlessly 

about the room.  "It's going to be so hard to go slowly, to give you the 

time you deserve.  I already want you so much that I can't even take 

the time to play with you like this-" He held his arms out and faced her, 

showing her his naked, muscular body, and erect, long, cock.  "No, its 

already starting.  Watch carefully, love.  You may never get another 

chance to see this."  He laughed, low in his throat.  She looked at his 

eyes, which seemed brighter than before.  She whimpered behind the 

gag as his laughter changed, deepened into something like a growl.  

"Sorry I ruined the show by stripping," he said gruffly.  "But I get so 

sick of buying new clothes.  So much tidier this way."  And his body 

began to change, mutating into something monstrous as he stared into 

her eyes with his own now turning a hot yellow.  He growled and 

moaned, the sounds growing more and more bestial.  Eventually, she 

turned from the sight in horror and nausea. Unable to bring herself to 

close her eyes for fear he would be upon her without her noticing, she 

instead watched the shadow the firelight threw on the rough floor as it 

grew taller, more inhuman with each moment.  She was crying in 

terror, the tears fouling her face, running under her gag and into her 

nose, making it harder to breathe as she gasped in shallow, panting 

breaths.  Her moans and his horrible noises merged with the dark 

music, making an unholy symphony in the close, hot room.  At last, the 

shadow seemed to stop shifting, although the flickering firelight made 

her unsure.  She turned, slowly, to look, and gave a muffled shriek at 

the sight.  



He was huge, at least eight feet tall, towering above her.  Through her 

terror, the thought came, fuzzily, that he must be some sort of 

werewolf, although his unnatural form was really neither human nor 

wolflike.  He was still upright, on two huge legs with large foot-shaped 

paws,  and his arms still looked functional, although each finger was 

now tipped with a long, ragged claw.  He was covered with fur the 

same black that his hair had been, but his mad-looking eyes were now a 

blazing yellow and slit, like an animal's.  His...muzzle was shorter than 

a wolf's in relation to the rest of his huge head but the teeth...oh, God, 

look anywhere else, she thought.  Except there, she laughed hysterically 

to herself, turning away from his monstrously huge fully erect phallus, 

which curved up against his belly, but not before she saw the evidence 

of his arousal dripping from the red tip.  When he spoke, his voice was 

gravelly and bestial, but still comprehensible.  "Shy?"  he growled.  

"Well, you really haven't gotten much of a chance to know me.  Shall I 

tell you about myself?"  Somehow the idea of human speech emerging 

from such a monster was the worst horror of all (so far, her 

treacherous brain reminded her)  and she nearly blacked out again.  A 

few seconds later she recovered to find him standing close to her, 

reaching for her face.  She screamed around the gag and reared back, 

away from his clawed hand, hitting her bruised head hard enough on 

the wall to bring more tears to her eyes.  He grunted his laughter and 

grabbed her head, cupping it in his huge paw, the claw on his thumb 

biting into her chin as he pulled her around to look at him.  "You've 

probably already guessed, astute little mage that you are, that I'm a 

garou, a werewolf.  What you may not know, given your inadequate 

training," he continued in a mock lecturing tone, "is how much we 

garou loathe your kind." He gripped her arm with his other hand, and 

tore through her sleeve, drawing blood, to emphasize his point.  She 

moaned.  "Some of us tolerate humans, some work with them or even 

mate with them.  But my clan frowns on that. I was taught that the only 

good human was hamburger.  Which left me with few outlets for 

my...unfortunate desires.  To put it bluntly,"  and he rubbed his 

monstrous cock against her chest, "humans turn me on.  And 

unfortunately for you, my little mage, the reek of tainted human magick 

that surrounds you turns me on even more.  But I've managed to 

reconcile my needs with my nature.  If hunting humans pleases the 

wolf, and fucking them pleases the man, then why not do both?  I've 

never had the pleasure of hunting such delicious prey before, though, 

my love.  And I intend to savor it."  



She moaned and pleaded with him with her eyes above the gag.  "No, 

little one.  The gag stays in.  You may not know much, but even an 

untrained mage might get creative enough in the heat of ...passion to 

stumble upon something potent enough to cause trouble.  Ordinarily I'd 

enjoy listening to you plead, and beg, and scream, but I'm afraid this 

time I can't take the risk.  Even for the pleasure of shoving this" -- he 

grabbed his cock -- "down your pretty throat.  But don't worry.  We'll 

find other ways to have fun."  He let go of her face and put his hand on 

her other arm.  Slowly, watching her avidly with glowing eyes, he drew 

his claws down her arms, shredding her sleeves and leaving deep 

scratches in her flesh, stopping with his hands resting gently on her 

shoulders.  She screamed in pain and fright.  "Shh, baby."  He 

whispered gutturally.  "This is just the beginning."  His claws moved 

down her torso, ripping both shirt and bathing suit from her, and 

leaving her bleeding from her collarbone down her sides to her waist.  

He tore the shreds of her clothing aside, baring her breasts to his gaze.  

He looked at her full breasts and found her usually hidden secret - small 

iridescent rings through pierced nipples.  He gave a groan of pleasure 

and surprise and looked up into her face, moaning, "you little slut, I 

guess you're not such a stranger to these games after all. Although 

you've probably never played for keeps before, have you baby?"  

Amazingly she found that through the haze of panic and pain she could 

actually feel embarrassment and anger. That this ...monster should 

know about her private wants, the things she had done for her lovers 

and for herself, enraged her.  He laughed at her expression and her little 

growl of rebellion against him...and then he hooked two claws into the 

rings and pulled, gently.  Almost immediately, her long conditioned 

responses began to betray her.  Her already partially erect nipples 

became hard and her head tilted back, just slightly.  She managed to 

stifle her moans for a few moments more until the tugging became 

more cruel and he added the stimulus of his other claws biting into the 

globes of her full breasts.  As she finally lost her battle against the 

noises welling up in her throat, she sent out a frantic prayer that he 

would interpret her moans and gasps as pain alone.  She lost that battle 

too.  "Oh, yes, love, yes, come with me, I'll take your pain and your 

pleasure and make them the same, yes, you'll give it all to me, won't 

you, little mage?"  He groaned and bent to lean his huge shaggy head 

against the wall next to hers, as he dropped one hand to her waist and 

ripped the skirt and the rest of her bathing suit from her ass and 

between her legs.  He made no effort to keep his claws from tearing at 

the tender flesh on her hips, ass and thighs, but the pain/pleasure in her 

nipples had begun the transformation in her from terrified, angry victim 

to unwilling conspirator in her own destruction.  Her body, now turned 

traitor, joined with the parts of her that had always taken pain and fear 

and made them her own, and overwhelmed the part of her that still 

desperately wanted to live.  Her moan of surrender sent her partner in 

this death dance over the edge.  



Growling and whining deep in his throat, all words deserting him now, 

he used his clawed hands to rake at her inner thighs as he cupped her 

ass and shoved her body roughly upwards, the unfinished boards at her 

back tearing her skin.  Blood ran down her uplifted thighs into the cleft 

between her legs, as he deepened the wounds he had made.  He 

lowered his muzzle and bit savagely at her breasts, nipping and drawing 

more blood.  Control had left her, and she found herself, feeling the 

stinging, burning and stabbing pains, thrusting her breasts at his mouth, 

begging with her body for him to mutilate her more.  She wrapped her 

legs around him, feeling the blood lubricate her cunt as her own juices 

began to flow to help, to open the way to the monstrous invader he was 

shoving her down upon.  The huge cock ripped her open as it entered 

her, providing more blood to ease its way as it slammed into her.  Her 

scream was loud even through the gag, even through the tears and snot 

that clogged her throat.  Her sweat and his own musky wetness 

combined with the blood on their skins, matting his fur, stinging in her 

cuts and scratches and bites.  He began to fuck her, savagely, and she 

knew from how deep the pain was at each thrust that he was ripping 

her up beyond repair, and all she felt was a deep satisfaction that he 

was using her, remaking her to better fit him, to better please him.  He 

slobbered all over her now ripped and bleeding breasts, and with a 

howl, he took her breast in his teeth and bit almost through it.  She 

howled and sobbed and moaned -- and offered her body to him for 

more.  



She felt herself growing weaker even as the pleasure began to spiral 

upwards.  He thrust harder, impaling her, filling what now felt less like 

her cunt and more like a raw hole into her belly.  As she began to shriek 

her climax, he howled his.  As the peak of pleasure and agony tore at 

her body and her soul, he nuzzled her throat with his mouth.  "I'll 

always remember you, love."  He groaned, and ripped out her throat.             







----------------------------------------------------------------------------

To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi.

If you reply to this message, your message WILL be *automatically* anonymized

and you are allocated an anon id. Read the help file to prevent this.

Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to admin@anon.penet.fi.

