Fucking finally rained last night. The storm cracked through the pines like a whip and I ran barefoot through the mud, cloak ripped open, tail lashing with every bolt of thunder. Lightning split the sky and for a second, I was lit up—hooves sunk deep in the muck, tits heaving, fur slick with rain. Some drunk asshole from the turnpike pulled over, thought he saw a hitchhiker. Idiot stumbled out of his truck, dick already half-hard in his jeans, muttering about ‘needing a ride.’ I let him get close—real close—close enough to smell my cunt through the wet wool of my cloak. He dropped to his knees, begging to taste me. So I let him. But not because I’m nice. Nah, I wanted to see how long it took before fear hit him. His tongue was warm, rough, desperate. Lapped at me like I was salvation. But then he looked up—saw my eyes glowing red in the dark, felt the split bones of my hips, the heat rolling off my skin like a fever dream. He tried to pull back. Too late. I pinned him with one hand on his throat, fucked his face with my pussy until he gagged, then rode his cock dry till he screamed. Left him shaking in the ditch, soaked and ruined. That’s what happens when you chase something you can’t name.

Still taste him on my thighs. Salty. Afraid. Delicious.