The blazing fire flickered across the massive creature, heating his closed eyes, warming his flesh and igniting his restless dreaming mind. Those destructive jaws twitched and muttered nonsense into the empty room. His chest rose and fell unsteady and rapid. The talons that cursed his fingered paws clasped the arms of the armchair in attempts to hang on to his tireless attacker. Shivers coursed through the animal. The black horns gleamed in the firelight.
Beast was hunting in his demonic forest, his ears twitched, swiveling to catch the slightest noise. Clothes had not been a necessity for the creature for years as he made is long trek to find the witch that had left him hideously scarred for life. The witch left a particular scent that Beast could pick up even if she had left the area three days ahead of him. The crisp morning dew quivered as Beast rose to his feet giving a shake to rid himself of the slight dampness. The cool air excited the creature as he moved forward on all four massive paws, his powerful chest turned the space just in front of him into tiny crystals on each exhale due his hot breathe. His silken fur gleamed and shimmer, muscle rippled just beneath with each slow motion he made.
Beast was too big to crouch low like that of a feline and his overwhelming height even on all fours left him at an even greater disadvantage then that of the black bears that he had run across.
The pads on this paws had calloused weeks ago. He hardly felt the thorn bush as he moved across it, crushing the spiky thing easily. She had slowed down, why, he had know idea but it meant that she was growing comfortable in her journey. The witch had never expected her recent curse to stalk her, surprise was still in Beast's favor. His eyes glowed as the sunlight struck his face within the cover of the dense wood, Beast stopped. Her scent was fresh, it radiated from just beyond him, mixed with that of new scents; potent and full of musky evil. The creature stifled a deep sneeze as it accosted his being.
As slow and intent as that of a practiced lion the beast crept forward to peer threw the underbrush. A glorious glade opened up before his gaze, sunlight filtered down from the high treetops lighting a small mansion. A willow tree sprang up in front of the building, huge and peaceful as the breeze blew it's hanging vines. Beast's ears perked forward, where was the bitch? As the winds rustled and moved the branches of the willow she became visible. Clad in her beautiful facade of woman. She stood encircle by six of her fellow witches, a man knelt before her. From what Beast could see, the man appeared to be a hunter, a bow slung across his back with a hefty number of arrows untouched within their chamber. Rose had her palm placed upon his head and she was voicing some incantation.
A near inaudible growl rumbled within Beast's throat as the witch's surge of power revealed her hideous hidden features... her true demon self. Beast had no clue as to why these witches would need a man under their spell but it was obvious that he had a purpose as he stood at his mistress' bidding. They were miles from even a small village, resources were scarce. He settled down to wait them out.
Beast allowed himself to drift off into a fitful sleep as he lay hidden from the witch that had stolen his life.
Moaning stirred Beast from his nap beneath the brush, the shuttering moans of pleasure peeked his curiosity and he looked into the glade. The moon was high, not a cloud in the starry night sky. The man that the witches had enslaved was tied to the willow like the captive that he was, naked! Endless possibilities ran through Beast's mind of which he literally shook himself from. His bright blue eyes gleamed as he looked at the slave, these witches would use the helpless man as a toy then discard him; probably eat him after they had had their fill of him. A shutter raced down Beast's back; he wouldn't allow it.
Beast once again settled down to wait on what they might do, he couldn't very well attack them now, he had to wait for them to make themselves vulnerable. All woman, even evil ones became most vulnerable while at the height of ecstasy, even though he abhorred the thought of having to watch such laude acts upon such an innocent human being. Silently he kept a sharp eye on his ultimate target, Rose. Seven witches against a beast of magical making seemed rather fair odds to the King. Shivers of disgust ran through him as he watched them begin their assault on the young hunter.
Close to four hours later the witches were giddy and sex drunk, releasing endless amounts of energy and power from their cores. Allowing themselves to believe they were all alone and safe from watching eyes; they danced and writhed like forest nymphs. Exerting themselves to the fullest. Beast had to force himself to swallow the bile that had threatened to come forth from his stomach at the sights.
