Title: "Bad Moon Rising"
Title: "Bad Moon Rising"
Rating: R- For language, violence, sexuality, and angst
Characters: Obscurus Lupa, Nella
Summary: Kink Meme Fill: Somebody wanted a Lupa as a werewolf story. Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own these people, the characters they portray or any trademarked properties therein. "Bad Moon Rising" and "Born On The Bayou" are both copyright of RCA Music Studios.
------------
Another month, yet another full moon. Obscurus Lupa sat up, alone in her bedroom, waiting for the inevitable. It was only a couple hours until nightfall. Nightfall, when Lupa would transform into her namesake. A real dark she-wolf. Certainly, Lupa thought, she'd had critics and Internet trolls and angry screenwriters criticize her assumed name before. Fair enough. But they didn't know the truth. Every full moon. Every month. That's what she had to worry about.
She couldn't remember when. Or how. But she'd been attacked. Occasionally her mind would flash back, in fragmented shards of repressed memories, rabid and fevered and hazy, but there was never anything solid. The only thing tangible were the scars on her neck and shoulders. The doctor called it a "rabid dog". Rabies shots and a short hospital stay and it was over.
Two months later it happened. Her first transformation. It'd been a quiet night with Apollo. Filming reviews. Drinking some beers. A sloppy fuck. And then it was over. Apollo was running out the door, chunks of meat missing from his neck and chest. Lupa woke hours later, covered in blood and Apollo meat. Clothes torn and her body covered in sweat and bile.
Lupa shuddered at the thought, checking her clock radio. Apollo had left, swearing secrecy. She hadn't wanted things to go down the way they did. Obviously. When she found out Apollo had left the site (couching his reasons on the "Suburban Knights" "cruxifiction" controversy) she was devastated. When he broke it off she was nearly inconsolable.
But things got better. Never normal. But better.
As Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Bad Moon Rising", ironically enough, cranked through Lupa's radio, she sobbed. It always hurt. Always. But she'd streamlined the process.
Preparing herself, she pulled her shirt off and stood up and removed her loose fitting gym shorts. No reason to waste good clothes. She'd done that plenty of times.
Standing nearly nude she checked her clock radio once again. Twenty-five minutes until sundown. She thought momentarily about masturbating first. She'd discovered over time that physical release made the transformations easier. Loosening her body and helping to clear her mind. Her turn came easier when she stopped thinking and just let go.
Slipping her hand into the waist band of her panties she heard a knock on the door. Loud even over the music.
"Oh God..." Lupa bleated, standing up.
She'd never had a visitor "during" before.
Stalking to her front door she called out; "Who is it?"
"Nella. The Chick told me." came the response.
Opening the door Nella stumbled in, the encroaching night behind her.
"Now's not the best time, Nella."
"I'll help you." Nella replied.
"You're not scared?"
"Not of you."
--------------
Lupa felt oddly alright laying down in her bed, half-naked and barefoot, allowing Nella to tie her down. She so rarely had help. Apollo and The Chick were the only two that knew.
"You'd better leave, Nella."
Bending down, Nella kissed Lupa lightly on the forehead. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."
As the minutes ticked by, Lupa stated simply; "Get the Hell out of here."
The door shut with a heavy "clunk". Lupa could hear the sounds of chains being locked from the outside. Lupa normally locked the chains on the inside, relying on her lack of coordination to keep her fortified safely. But tonight she was lucky. This was safer.
------------
As nightfall came, Nella sat uncomfortably on Lupa's couch, trying vainly to watch some lousy TV show. The sounds from Lupa's room didn't come immediately. There was no growling. No cliched howl. The only sound was thrashing. Thrashing and the gnashing of teeth.
Finally it came. Deep rumbling. Growls from the pits of the stomach of a creature that wasn't supposed to exist. Chains rattled, followed by whimpering. Sad and dejected.
Nella could hardly stand it. That creature, the sin against nature it was, was still her friend.
Treading carefully, she unlocked Lupa's door. Everything that could possibly be called "common sense" told her to leave. Sit it out and wait for daylight. But she ventured inside.
Lupa's room held no secrets. No pretensions. Laying in bed, bathed in the low light of a computer monitor, Lupa laid on her bed. Chains held her ankles and wrists.
The sight was ghastly to look upon. Lupa was vaguely human. Brown fur covered her body. Her pretty face was twisted into an elongated, canine snout. Her feet were cloven, her toes grafting together into three clawed protrusions.
And she murmured. And whined. No thrashing. Just whining. A pained expression of panic. Like her sentient mind was trying to break through the boundaries of it's fevered animalistic prison.
Nella sat, lightly next to Lupa and simply patted her stomach. Her poochy, hairy little stomach, and said nothing at all.
-----------
When daylight came the next day Nella unchained her friend. Lupa heaved, wretched and vomited from the change back. Her body ached. Her panties were wet from urine. She'd wet herself in her wolfen state.
Showing no discretion Lupa changed as Nella milled about the room.
"How do you feel?" Nella asked.
"Like shit." replied the redhead. "So, why'd you help me?"
"Because you're my friend, Lupa."
"There's more."
"Because Todd hunts your kind. I'm here to make up for all those that didn't have someone to help them."
Rating: R- For language, violence, sexuality, and angst
Characters: Obscurus Lupa, Nella
Summary: Kink Meme Fill: Somebody wanted a Lupa as a werewolf story. Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own these people, the characters they portray or any trademarked properties therein. "Bad Moon Rising" and "Born On The Bayou" are both copyright of RCA Music Studios.
------------
Another month, yet another full moon. Obscurus Lupa sat up, alone in her bedroom, waiting for the inevitable. It was only a couple hours until nightfall. Nightfall, when Lupa would transform into her namesake. A real dark she-wolf. Certainly, Lupa thought, she'd had critics and Internet trolls and angry screenwriters criticize her assumed name before. Fair enough. But they didn't know the truth. Every full moon. Every month. That's what she had to worry about.
She couldn't remember when. Or how. But she'd been attacked. Occasionally her mind would flash back, in fragmented shards of repressed memories, rabid and fevered and hazy, but there was never anything solid. The only thing tangible were the scars on her neck and shoulders. The doctor called it a "rabid dog". Rabies shots and a short hospital stay and it was over.
Two months later it happened. Her first transformation. It'd been a quiet night with Apollo. Filming reviews. Drinking some beers. A sloppy fuck. And then it was over. Apollo was running out the door, chunks of meat missing from his neck and chest. Lupa woke hours later, covered in blood and Apollo meat. Clothes torn and her body covered in sweat and bile.
Lupa shuddered at the thought, checking her clock radio. Apollo had left, swearing secrecy. She hadn't wanted things to go down the way they did. Obviously. When she found out Apollo had left the site (couching his reasons on the "Suburban Knights" "cruxifiction" controversy) she was devastated. When he broke it off she was nearly inconsolable.
But things got better. Never normal. But better.
As Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Bad Moon Rising", ironically enough, cranked through Lupa's radio, she sobbed. It always hurt. Always. But she'd streamlined the process.
Preparing herself, she pulled her shirt off and stood up and removed her loose fitting gym shorts. No reason to waste good clothes. She'd done that plenty of times.
Standing nearly nude she checked her clock radio once again. Twenty-five minutes until sundown. She thought momentarily about masturbating first. She'd discovered over time that physical release made the transformations easier. Loosening her body and helping to clear her mind. Her turn came easier when she stopped thinking and just let go.
Slipping her hand into the waist band of her panties she heard a knock on the door. Loud even over the music.
"Oh God..." Lupa bleated, standing up.
She'd never had a visitor "during" before.
Stalking to her front door she called out; "Who is it?"
"Nella. The Chick told me." came the response.
Opening the door Nella stumbled in, the encroaching night behind her.
"Now's not the best time, Nella."
"I'll help you." Nella replied.
"You're not scared?"
"Not of you."
--------------
Lupa felt oddly alright laying down in her bed, half-naked and barefoot, allowing Nella to tie her down. She so rarely had help. Apollo and The Chick were the only two that knew.
"You'd better leave, Nella."
Bending down, Nella kissed Lupa lightly on the forehead. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."
As the minutes ticked by, Lupa stated simply; "Get the Hell out of here."
The door shut with a heavy "clunk". Lupa could hear the sounds of chains being locked from the outside. Lupa normally locked the chains on the inside, relying on her lack of coordination to keep her fortified safely. But tonight she was lucky. This was safer.
------------
As nightfall came, Nella sat uncomfortably on Lupa's couch, trying vainly to watch some lousy TV show. The sounds from Lupa's room didn't come immediately. There was no growling. No cliched howl. The only sound was thrashing. Thrashing and the gnashing of teeth.
Finally it came. Deep rumbling. Growls from the pits of the stomach of a creature that wasn't supposed to exist. Chains rattled, followed by whimpering. Sad and dejected.
Nella could hardly stand it. That creature, the sin against nature it was, was still her friend.
Treading carefully, she unlocked Lupa's door. Everything that could possibly be called "common sense" told her to leave. Sit it out and wait for daylight. But she ventured inside.
Lupa's room held no secrets. No pretensions. Laying in bed, bathed in the low light of a computer monitor, Lupa laid on her bed. Chains held her ankles and wrists.
The sight was ghastly to look upon. Lupa was vaguely human. Brown fur covered her body. Her pretty face was twisted into an elongated, canine snout. Her feet were cloven, her toes grafting together into three clawed protrusions.
And she murmured. And whined. No thrashing. Just whining. A pained expression of panic. Like her sentient mind was trying to break through the boundaries of it's fevered animalistic prison.
Nella sat, lightly next to Lupa and simply patted her stomach. Her poochy, hairy little stomach, and said nothing at all.
-----------
When daylight came the next day Nella unchained her friend. Lupa heaved, wretched and vomited from the change back. Her body ached. Her panties were wet from urine. She'd wet herself in her wolfen state.
Showing no discretion Lupa changed as Nella milled about the room.
"How do you feel?" Nella asked.
"Like shit." replied the redhead. "So, why'd you help me?"
"Because you're my friend, Lupa."
"There's more."
"Because Todd hunts your kind. I'm here to make up for all those that didn't have someone to help them."