Garnet and the Fox – Chapter 2

Garnet didn’t know how long she lay there. Five minutes? Two hours? Several days, with the moon and sun passing over her while she lay in a haze? The trees and wind and sounds around her had no meaning. They occurred around her, but not to her, as she sat curled into a ball on a disused path through the thick of the forest.

When she did move, it was almost by accident, as a numb arm shifted under her and tilted her to one side. She fell onto her back, staring at the leaves overhead, blinking until the sky came into focus. With every movement on her face, she felt something dry rubbing against her, cracking so quietly only she could hear it, and she dared not reach up to see where it was.

She tried to convince herself that it was all a horrible nightmare. She had fallen asleep on her journey to her mother’s house, nothing more. There was no man with fox ears and tails who had charmed her with grace honeyed words. There was no moment of realization when he pounced on her, flinging her body about like a rag doll. There were no evil words laid upon her ears, insulting her, telling her she was less than human and praising her for acknowledging it. There was no violation of her body, not the hands on her breasts or the arms around her or the thumb—and much worse—in her mouth. But reality disagreed. There no other explanation for why she lay naked, in the dirt, with a crusty substance in her hair and on her face, her throat too sore from crying to even speak.

She roused herself, fighting sore muscles and tinging limbs, and rose to her knees. She was, undoubtedly, a mess. But she had survived. She had faced down a creature of the forest and lived with her chastity intact, if not her innocence. A monster had approached her, teased her, insulted her, abused her, and very nearly killed her at least twice, but still she stood on her own two feet. It was over. Her victory was not total, but it was a victory nonetheless.

The first step was dressing. She brushed herself off ad best the could and flapped out her clothes, falling back to the easy muscle memory of laundry. If she needed any further proof of her morning activities it was here, in the absence of her bra and panties. The creature had at least left her half-slip, and putting it around her waist gave her some vague sense of undergarments. Her dress hugged her like a comfort blanket, and she swore she would never take simple clothes for granted again. Walking in her state proved slightly precarious; she had no concern that the wind would blow an ankle-length dress high enough to reveal anything, unlike some of the dresses she saw on other girls in town, but walking without chest support was a constant minor irritation. She readjusted herself until she got into a state where the dress’ constant movement at least didn’t chafe, and that would have to be good enough for now.

The second step was making sure the mother’s poultice had survived its fall. Fleeing from the gumiho had carried her some distance down the path, so she doubled back, watching the side of the road for her pouch. She found it right where she left it, thankfully not carried off by any woodland beast. The clay pot had held with nary a crack, a single ray of hope. She tied a knot in the strap and slung it back over her shoulder, already thinking about a more permanent solution.

The third step was finding a brook or something else she could use to clean herself. It would take a full wash to rid her body of the dirt it had gathered from rolling around in the forest, but she could at least clean the drool from her chin and remove the repugnant dried fluid from her face and hair. She walked, ears perked, until she heard a quiet bubbling from behind the trees, and when she saw the clear water she practically attacked it. For one she didn’t care what else got wet, as long as she could thoroughly brush out her hair with her fingers and splash water on her face until she could smile without feeling something foreign against her skin. Next came the longest drink she’d ever taken, soothing a throat parched from crying and bruised from Roul’s appendage jabbing her in the back of the mouth. Some rest had calmed the ache, but the elixir of nature finally cured it, letting her at least speak to herself without wincing.

Back in order, she set out again, heading for her mother’s house. It was far later than she’d hoped, and she doubted she would make it back to the village before nightfall, but perhaps it was for the best. She could sit with her mother, talk, eat, do anything to take her mind off what had happened. She could rest for the night and greet the day anew with energy and confidence, ready to put today behind her and travel the woods again. She would watch for creatures, this time. Even if the stories weren’t true, untold dangers still lurked, and now she knew to look out for them.

During the journey she put together a story in her head to fend off scrutiny from both her mother and the bakers who would wonder why she hadn’t come home. Given the dirt all over her, she would have to say she had fallen, maybe down an embankment loosened by the same rain that had taken out the bridge. But what about her face? After she fell, she stopped to bathe herself in a lake to clean up, since she assumed she had time enough for clean her skin but not enough to wash her clothes. An explanation to explain everything, and she would never have to explain what had truly happened, or even think about it ever again.

Her mother’s cabin peeked through the trees counted among the best sights Garnet had ever seen. Sat against a well-fenced vegetable garden and protected by a stone wall she herself had helped build, it seemed as much home as it had before she’d moved out. As she approached, she heard her mother working inside, perhaps repairing some piece of furniture with a heavy thump-thump-thump hushed by the thick log walls. She doubted her mother would hear her knock over her labor, and she had been expecting a visit besides, so there was no reason she couldn’t just walk inside. She tapped on the door anyway, mostly to be polite, and immediately the pounding stopped. Garnet shrugged and pushed her way inside. “Mother! I’ve brought—”

The world stopped around her, for what she saw in the cabin was not her mother hunched over the floor, pounding the same troublesome table leg back into alignment. Instead she saw her mother on her back in the bed, with her arms and legs spread around her. Naked and sweaty with tear streaks down her cheek, sticky white slime coating her naked crotch and leaking from within her. She seemed in pain as she lifted her head, eyes wide with panic. “No. No, Garnet, run!”

She had only just opened her mouth to respond when the door slammed shut behind her, and a rough voice chilled her spine from top to bottom. “Welcome home, pet.”

No part of her mind told her to run, because no part told her anything at all. Her thoughts seized just like her muscles, rooting her to the spot. She couldn’t even shake. In that moment she froze completely, staring at the far wall while Roul walked around her. He looked just as she remembered, tall and rugged and inhuman with the same self-satisfied grin. His tails waved behind him as in an imaginary breeze, carefully avoiding the baskets and mementos hung on her mother’s walls. The only difference was a change in color, and when she regained control of her eyes she saw way. Unlike in the woods, where she had only glimpsed his skin through open pants and a mass of hair, now he was nude from the waist down with his open shirt framing an erection. She noticed the the sheen on his shaft, and she glanced at her naked mother and the multiple loads of seed already oozing out of her, and then she started trembling.

“I’m glad you came,” he purred, close enough to strike. “After our conversation in the woods, I thought you might have given up on your poor, dear mother and gone home. I should have known such a diligent daughter would pick herself up and complete her journey.”

“Why?”, she mumbled, grabbing thick handfuls of her skirt.

“Well, I had to, didn’t it? I had to meet the mother of such a beautiful woman. And you told me right where she lived, didn’t you? A cabin to the southeast, across the river, near the bridge? You gave me everything I needed to find it.”

Her legs nearly gave out. “No…”

“And just as I’d hoped, your mother was every bit the beauty you are! A few more wrinkles, a little less high and tight in places, but still gorgeous. I expect the men in your village are practically beating down her door.” He chuckled. “Good thing I didn’t have to do the same. I just told her Garnet sent me with a delivery, and she opened right up. We’ve been getting to know each other ever since.”

She looked over to her mother and shook her head. Her voice barely rose above a whisper, yet it felt deafening in the silent room. “I’m sorry.”

Her mother crawled to the edge of the bed, shaking her head. “No. No, it’s not your fault. It’s not—”

“But it is, isn’t it?” Roul spoke, and her mother stopped immediately. “It’s her fault for leaving me with the biggest case of blue balls I’ve ever had. If she’d just done her job, I wouldn’t have needed to vent my frustration elsewhere.”

“But I—” Garnet stopped. She wasn’t ready to tell her mother what had happened. “I did what you wanted.”

“You did what you wanted, pet. I seem to recall you begging for it.”

“You made me!”

“I did no such thing. I was merely the situation in which you found yourself. You made your own decisions, and look where it led.”

She fell to her knees, gazing at the floor. She didn’t do this. It wasn’t her fault. It was his. He was wrong. He’d forced her, and manipulated her, and threatened her. She just survived, that was all. What was her alternative? Dying in the woods? But if she had, maybe he wouldn’t have gone after her mother. Was that better? Possibilities and alternatives swirled in her mind, layers upon layers of choices and paths, and none of it changed the three people in the room.

“So,” Roul interjected, and her panicked thoughts disappeared like sand scattered by wind, “it seems to me I have two pets here, and I still haven’t gotten when I want. What should I do?” He tapped his chin, looking from on to the other.

Garnet’s mother glanced at her daughter and spread her legs. “Take me. Leave her alone.”

“Mmm, I don’t know. It seemed you weren’t really enjoying it. Maybe your daughter would be more fun.”

“No! No, please, I want it. I was—” she gulped, “I was starting to get aroused. I just didn’t want to show it. You’re so…big, and so good, and the way your tails…it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Please, I need you to keep going.”

“Mother, I—”

“Garnet.” It was a whole paragraph in one word. She’d heard it many times when she was wandering off, or shirking her chores, or preparing to snap at her mother for simple acts of parenting. It ended debate in two efficient syllables.

Garnet looked back at her knees, and Roul grinned ever wider. “Interesting. So, what do you like best about getting fucked by me?”

Her mother lay back on she bed and spread her legs wide. “It was…it’s how you take control. How you push me, hold me down, force me into things. I’ve never been with a man who took charge like you. Please, I need more of it.”

“Ooo, I like the sound of that.” He crossed the room and ran a finger up her leg. “You’re going to make an excellent toy, pet.”


Roul’s body froze. Only his head turned to Garnet. “What?”

“Her name is Juliana. Not ‘pet’.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Ah, of course, of course. I forgot to ask her name before I started fucking her in her own bed. How careless of me.” He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “I would very much love to return to the experience woman who lusts after my cock so much she can barely stand it. Isn’t that right, Juliana?”

“Yes,” Garnet’s mother rolled across the bed and reached for his flagging erection. “Yes, please, give it to me.”

“But I’m afraid I have something to attend to first. As much fun as it is to use my pet as she deserves, it seems I have another pet who doesn’t know her place.”

“No, wait, she—”

But Roul had already crossed the room, yanking Garnet to her feet by her hair. She screamed, and her mother screamed something else, and Roul just laughed. “You thought that’s how it would be? That you could barge in on me, talk back to me, and just leave while she carried your burden? I will have both of you, however I please, and you will enjoy it. Do you understand?”

Garnet grabbed onto his arm, and Juliana raced across the room and tried to pull it away, but their combined might only moved him an inch. He latched into Juliana’s throat with his other hand, pulling the women apart. Garnet watched her mother’s face turn red and her mouth flap open, the results of the powerful fingers compressing her neck. “Stop!” Panic fueled her, urging her to kick fruitlessly at Roul even as she spoke. “Stop, please! I’ll do whatever you want! Just leave her alone!”

“No.” The single word struck her deeper than a knife. “I will not leave her alone. The best you can do it convince me not to crush her right now. So, pet,” he turned to her, his eyes as hard as his teeth, “what could you do to please me?”

The answer was obvious and direct, and still she avoided it, considering every single act she could accomplish with her skills and knowledge and body to at least deny him the satisfaction. With every passing moment, every thought she reviewed and discarded, his fingers gripped tighter and her mother’s flailing grew calmer. He’d left her no room for deliberation, she saw that. Faced with the limitations of time, she croaked, “you can have me.”

“I’m sorry? I can’t hear you over your mother’s death rattle.”

She found her voice, answering at a near-shriek. “I will give you my body!”

“All of it.”

“All of it! Please, just stop!”

He released his grip, and both women fell to the floor. Juliana hacked and keeled over while Garnet crawled to her, covering her in the strongest hug her arms would allow. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Garnet,” her mother shook her head, but she hugged back. “It’s not your fault. It’s not. It’s not.”

She expected Roul to take them apart and claim her immediately, but he waited, allowing them several minutes to console each other. Crying started, and stopped and started again, and he let it happen, until the whispered apologies stopped and the women sat, empty and exhausted. He caught Garnet’s eyes, and she took a final shaky breath and stood. “I’m ready.”

He looked her up and down. “You seem to dressed to be ready.”

She nodded and undressed in front of him. Her pouch went to Juliana, who set it aside, with better things to consider than a contact rash on her leg. She draped the red cloak over a table, and then her dress. When her mother saw her bare chest a quiet sound escaped, perhaps one of recognition, but no words joined it. Only a half-slip and shoes protected her, and then those too were gone, leaving her naked in a familiar place made foreign by the company. “Now I’m ready.”

“I doubt that very much.” Roul put one hand on her shoulder and another just above the gap between her thighs. “Mentally, you may think you’re reayd, but being physically ready is something else. You’re tired, you’re afraid, and you’re defensive, just like any pet with a new owner.” Her eye twitched, and he chuckled. “To be blunt, it’s going to hurt when I take your flower. It’s going to hurt a lot, because your body isn’t ready for it. We need to get you aroused, and then it will go much easier. You do want it to go easier, don’t you?”

Garnet nodded, but he waited until she spoke. “I do.”

“So what do you want?”

“I want to be aroused so you can take me more easily.”

“Good girl. Get on the bed.” She climbed in as he directed, leaning against the wall and spreading her legs. “We’re going to get you nice and wet. Well, not ‘we’, as such. An owner doesn’t lower himself to pleasing his pets.”

“Shall I touch myself?” She’d tried it before, rarely to completion and never with an audience, but she did understand the mechanics of it. She laid her hand on her thigh, waiting for his signal.

“Hmm…no. I think it would be best if we got everybody involved. So, Juliana,” he spoke with a particular bitterness, and his face when he turned showed nothing but malice, “go lick your daughter’s pussy so I can fuck her better.”

Garnet started, but Roul’s withering glare kept her in place. Juliana rose and crossed the room under Roul’s observation. She lay in front of Garnet, face-down so her face sat inches from her daughter’s virgin hips. “I haven’t done this before.”

He rested a hand on her rear end. “Then learn fast, or I’m going in dry.”

Juliana nodded, and swallowed, and took a breath, and finally lowered her head. Garnet stared aghast as her mother’s tongue reached out, stretching as far as muscle would allow, and made a single tentative lick. She expected something like her own finger, but the minor differences turned into a whole other experience. Her mother’s tongue was wetter than a finger, and softer, and it came to a smaller tip. The true disconnect was the lack of tactile feedback, as her hands sat useless by her side. She wasn’t controlling what happened, somebody else was, and despite the horror her body treated it as a minor thrill.

One look at her mother dispelled any notion of enjoying it. Lines crossed Juliana’s knotted brow and framed her mouth, rigid and deep. Garnet turned her head toward the window, where she could watch something, anything, besides her mother’s pain. The sensations remained, soft and delicate, teasing her petals and drawing her thoughts to her hips. She winced and balled her hands into fists, resisting each caress and fighting her body’s reaction to it. She wasn’t going to give in, not like this, not at her mother’s expense. She was too strong to let this get the better of her. But Roul leaned forward, still distant from her ear, and said “if you’re not aroused, this will hurt much, much more,” and in her heart she knew he was right.

Torn between her morality and her preservation instinct, the opted for the latter, determined to return to the former as soon as her life was no longer in danger. At his insistence, she threw away her defiance and tried as hard as she could to enjoy her mother’s service. If she closed her eyes, she could think of something else. She pretended it was Aldis perched between her legs, on their wedding night, lovingly exploring her body. She pictured his broad shoulders looming over her thighs, his rough hands against her hips, his dirty blond hair shifting up and down with each inexperienced lick. She saw him from other angles, as naked as she, covered in the musculature she had admired for so long. She imagined him climbing atop her, joining with her, whispering the affirmations he would utter for decades to come. Heat grew in her chest and something curled below her stomach: a need for contact, for pressure, for warmth. Her lips parted to take in breath, and when she heard the first, faint smack of wet flesh on wet flesh, she released it as a moan.

“That’s enough,” said Roul, and her fantasy came crashing down. She was back in the house, splayed on the bed, with an inhuman creature’s hand rubbing her mother’s sacred place from behind. “Bring a chair over here. I want you to see this.”

“Please,” Juliana panted and heaved, like she wanted to sob but didn’t have anything left. “Please, haven’t you done enough?”

He gestured as his erection. “Clearly not. Now do it.” Garnet heard the understood threat, a silent warning of what he would do to her if her mother took the opportunity to flee, and she stayed in bed while Roul joined her. He didn’t yank her ankles down until she lay under him, as she expected. He pulled on her shoulders, not roughly but harder than necessary, and positioned her on her hands and knees, gripping the foot of the bed. When she looked up, she saw her mother sitting only a few feet away, so she didn’t look up. “There, perfect. You’ll take it from behind for your first time, just like an animal.”

Something—she knew what—rubbed against her petals, coating itself in her meager wetness. She screwed her eyes shut and hung her head, letting her dark hair hide her face from her mother. “Can…can you please go slow?”

The rubbing stopped. “Hm…I’ll tell you what. I’ll go nice and slow, but only if you tell your mother what’s about to happen. And don’t be subtle about it.”

Garnet nodded. “M-mother. He’s going to—”

“Look her in the eye.”

She raised her head, and Roul pushed her hair to one side so she could watch her mother’s face sink further with every word. “He’s going to…to claim me. He’s going to push himself into my…sex. He’s going to rape me. Mother, I’m so sorry, I—”

“That’s enough. I should have known you’d be terrible.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her shoulders, back, dragging her torso with them until it stood nearly upright. Exposed to her mother from her head to her knees, she trembled as Roul’s erection rubbed her from below. “Lucky for you I plan to go slow anyway. I like making it last.”

His head prodded at her lips, increasing the pressure it put on her entrance. She bit her tongue, praying he wouldn’t find his way in. Maybe he couldn’t get the angle, or maybe she was too tight to allow him passage. But his tip found the perfect location, and it expanded her entrance as he pushed it inside. It didn’t hurt, not at first. Being rubbed down there actually felt good, like when her mother or she herself did it, and she didn’t know if she should be relieved or shamed to admit it. She stretched for him and coated him with honey, easing the path to her deflowering, and no matter how much she tried to convinced herself otherwise, the twisting below her stomach her told her she was enjoying it.

The farther he progressed, the more that sinful arousal faded. Her outside was wet, yes, but her inside had no answer for something so thick and deep. He pushed more, and her hips twitched, trying to pull away from the source of their discomfort. He pushed more, and she tensed, which only exacerbated the ache. Every relentless inch he dug, she felt throughout her body, a dull roar transitioning to a screaming pain. He didn’t jolt her, nothing that would allow her to express herself with a single cry. He just continued steadily, languidly, prying her passage apart with his shaft, splitting her open for the first time while she panted and whined and twitched in his grasp. Lost in her torture, she perceived no passage of time, just a searing ache until the pressure inside her grew too much too handle. The world disappeared except for the pain, until something jabbed inside her and she realized Roul had hit her limits.

Garnet looked at her mother, who thankfully stared at the ground. No matter what suffering she endured, at least her mother didn’t have to bear witness to it. But Roul thought otherwise, and he growled over her shoulder. “Look at her.”

Juliana shook her head.

She braced for him to scream, to command, but he just chuckled. “You see that, pet? Your own mother can’t even stand to look at you any more. You’re defiled. You’re a toy. You’re my—”

“No.” Juliana glared at him. “She is not defiled. She’s wonderful, and amazing, and nothing you do can ever change that.”

“Then why can’t you look at her?”

Her eyes returned to the ground. “I won’t give you the satisfaction.”

“Hmmm, I see. Then let’s made a trade. If you watch me rape your daughter,”he released one of Garnet’s arms and wrapped his hand around her throat, “I won’t choke the life out of her.”

Juliana looked up, shaking in her seat. “You’re a monster.”

“And you’re my property, so you’ll do what I say.” He squeezed, and Garnet grabbed his wrist with her free hand, trying in vain to pull him off. “Am I being clear?”

She rooted her eyes on Garnet’s stomach. “Perfectly.”

“Good. Now, pet, let’s get this deflowering under way.” The shaft withdrew from her, alleviating the pressure but causing a new bout of friction-induced pain. Then it slammed up again, so fast her whole body shook, finally giving her a reason to scream. It thudded into her womb’s barrier, stabbing her from her hips up into her stomach. He lingered there a moment while her voice died, then did it again, leaving slowly and re-entering so fast she barely had time to process it. She squealed each time he bucked his hips, but quieter and quieter, degenerating into a constant wail.

Her body did its best to acclimate to her rape. Her sex dripped with fluids, easing his passage even if it did only make him move harder and faster as time went on. Her face and chest grew flush, signs of the tony ball of pleasure forming itself in her hips out of sheer necessity. Her skin tried to convince her of the pleasure in anything it could, from her bouncing chest to the grip around her wrist to the hot, solid body pressing against her back. None of it worked. No matter what little pieces of satisfaction existed in the physical aspect, it was all meaningless against the overwhelming pain.

Her mind fared no better. With no tears left inside her she could only groan and whimper as her outlets, with even dry sobs held back by the hand around her neck. There was no out-of-body experience to save her, no fantasy to which she could escape. He wouldn’t allow it. Everything he did kept her in the moment; he grunted in her ear, he rubbed his chest against her shoulders, he took deep sniffs at her hair, and he violated her with such merciless, brutal strokes she had to assume he derived more pleasure from hurting her than from the act itself. Whether her nightmare lasted for minutes or hours, she couldn’t tell, nor did she want to know. All she wanted was for it to end.

The hand around her neck tightened. “You’re not looking.”

Her eyes fell to her mother, who drew her head back up with visible pain. Of all the tortures Garnet had suffered, her mother’s red, puffy eyes were among the worst. “Please, just stop. Let it end.”

The grip didn’t loosen. Garnet clutched at Roul’s fingers, her chest heaving for air, while he casually ravaged her from behind. His voice seemed dreamlike, either because he was drawing out his words or because she was already passing into unconsciousness. “I would love to end it. I’m so close, you know. But I just need that one little bit to push me over the edge.”

Juliana gripped the seat of her chair with white knuckles. “What do you need?”

“I want to hear Garnet beg for it. To ask nicely for me to rape her, to use her, to make her my obedient little pet. Oh, but it seems she’s at a loss for words right now.” He squeezed, just for a second, enough to make Garnet croak. He let her take shallow breaths a moment afterward, the better for her to hear the acid in his voice. “You do it instead.”

Garnet tried to reach for her mother, to implore her to do…something. She didn’t even know herself. She would ask anything, say anything, to clear the pain on her mother’s face as she spoke. “Rape my daughter. Please, rape her. Fill her virgin pussy with your giant cock.” Surprise tried to find a foothold among Garnet’s emotions—that her mother had agreed so quickly, that she could say such vile things with an even voice, that she even knew these words Garnet understood only through context—but slipped away, as did all thoughts in the flimsy vestiges of her consciousness. “Turn her into your pet. Treat her like an animal. Fuck her faster. Faster!”

“Oooh, yessss”, Roul hissed in Garnet’s ear. His body tensed behind her and his hips slapped against her rear, and she understood. The faster her mother did what he wanted—the faster they both did—the sooner her suffering would end. She lowered her hand from his arm and laid it on her own breast, the only sign of submission she could perform with whiteness clouding her vision and fingers that couldn’t grip. He purred again and paused after a long, deep thrust, a minor sign of his approval. “Keep going.”

Juliana looked at Garnet’s face one last time; she tried to nod at her mother, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She couldn’t even see her mother’s expression when she spoke. “Yes, keep going. Just like that. Push it all the way in. Make her take your dick. Make that virgin pussy swallow you whole.” She paused a moment. “You want to make her yours, don’t you? See that pretty face? Cum all over it. Mark your territory. Claim my daughter as your obedient bitch.”

Roul roared, and Garnet collapsed, a puppet with her strings cut. There was nothing inside her, only a burning ache in her hips and a freezing cold in her chest, the sign of precious air flowing back in. The bed flew against the wall, or maybe Roul just flipped her onto her back. He was nothing but a vague shape stop her, and then the spray came, the same as she’d felt in the forest. It oozed into her open mouth, left strands connecting her eyelids, even leaked down to her ears. Wet warmth splattered her from her chin to her hairline, and even if she could turn away, she didn’t want to. This was what Roul wanted. If she gave him what she wanted, the suffering would end faster. It was the only collection of words she could string together, even after the ceiling came back into view and she noticed the rumbled sheets under her naked body.

The moment Roul left the bed, her mother rushed over and hugged her. “I’m sorry. He made me. Garnet, he—”

“Shhh.” Garnet whispered, about the only thing she had the energy to do. “I know.”

Juliana nodded and cradled her. When she looked up, Garnet saw a fire in her eyes she’d never met before. “You got what you wanted. Now leave us alone.”

“Hm?” Roul’s voice came from somewhere else, but he graciously walked in front of Garnet so she could see him. “You can’t possibly be that stupid.” He held his cock, and Garnet realized to her utter lack of surprise that he was still rock hard. She whimpered, but he paid her almost no mind. “I got what I wanted for now. I plan on sticking around for a while… I have to make sure you’re both broken in.”

“No!” her mother insisted. “You will leave this instant, or so help me, I will make—”

“That’s enough,” he snapped, and Garnet shuddered. His tone wasn’t the same. It was harder, louder, deeper… worse. “I don’t think you understand your place, little prey animal. You think me some feeble highwayman with funny animal parts? Some capricious nature spirit out for a little fun?” His eyes seemed to almost glow in the dim light of twilight filtering through the windows. “I am a gumiho… this is my territory now, and you are my property. You do what I say until I tell you otherwise. That is the end of the conversation.”

“We will never be yours. We will…”

Juliana’s voice trailed off, forgotten in the rush. It lowered when Roul’s skin changed, darkening to a mottled grey and sprouting fur. It disappeared entirely when he grew, upward and outward, as tall as the cabinets, with shoulders as wide as two men. His bones cracked as they bent, bulging outward from his face and pushing his heels into the air. Teeth became fangs, nails claws, and eyes voids of white. Even his tails elongated until they were nearly twice as long as she was tall, thrashing around the room. In mere moments he transformed from a man into a fox larger than a horse, towering over the terrified woman. “I told you already,” he growled, somehow putting out the human worlds without anything resembling a human mouth. His voice barely even changed. The fox… the gumiho… gave them a smug grin showing altogether too many teeth. “It’s not your decision.”

Garnet, thankfully, did not need to look at him any longer, as her head sank and everything around her went black.

4 thoughts on “Garnet and the Fox – Chapter 2

  1. Lovely chapter, despite Garnet being theoretically bland being just a mere human, in your menagerie of supernatural women, I’ve grown to like her a lot. I’ll be waiting for the future chapters to see how it’s gonna unfold for her 🙂


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