Chapter 5 Elowen
ELOWEN
Lorelei blinks and looks around. “Oh look—we’re home.” She feels her nose, which has returned to its normal size, and smiles. “And I can smell again—I can breathe through my nose!” Then her smile turns into a frown. “But…I feel so strange inside.”
Hortense feels for her mouth and sighs in relief.
“My lips are back to normal, too. But…” She shifts uncomfortably. “I feel strange too.”
“It’s the spell that old hag put on us!” Mirabella snaps. She’s wiggling her hips like her private parts are itching. “That bitch! I swear I’ll tell my mother on her!”
“But what are we going to do?” Shantilla demands. Her hair is back to its normal length—halfway down her back—a vast improvement over the Rapunzel-like locks that were so heavy she could barely lift her head.
“Yes, Mirabella—what do we do?” the other girls chime in.
“I feel so empty inside!” one adds, pressing her thighs together. “Like…like I want something in me. Or someone…someone big and hairy and dirty.”
Her eyes go heavy-lidded as she speaks and she’s rubbing her breasts, though I don’t think she knows she’s doing it.
“Enough of that!” Mirabella snaps and slaps the girl’s hand away from her cleavage. “We’re going back to the dorm and going to bed before Sister Eugenie or Sister Agatha come to check on us.”
“But Mirabella, I feel so strange!” Terylin moans. “I feel like I need to go find someone to help me. Someone male. Someone rough.”
“Fight it, you idiot!” Mirabella glares at her. “Didn’t you hear the curse that bitch put on us? Do you want to get the color of your eyes changed and a swelled belly all at once?”
“No…” Terylin says, but she doesn’t sound absolutely positive about it, and she casts a longing glance in the direction of town, where there are more than enough big, dirty, rough males always lurking around.
I can understand how she’s feeling. My pussy is aching deep inside, like it needs to be filled. And I have an extra curse laid on me—I have to find a special male—one that’s a Drake with horns.
I know of only one such male in the town—the blacksmith.
He’s a huge, hulking male—nearly seven feet tall and covered in bulging muscle from swinging that heavy hammer of his to shape metal all day.
He’s also usually covered in grime from the forge.
It gives him a dirty, disreputable look that makes me feel weak in my knees.
I’ve only seen him from afar, because we of the temple don’t believe in using metal, much.
We try to craft all our implements out of wood and clay and other natural materials.
But even seeing him across the street makes all the short hairs at the back of my neck stand up because I can feel his Drake.
The huge creature that lurks inside him has a strange mental feeling—a feeling like he’s waiting for something—or someone.
I don’t know how I know that—I just do. I know it the same way I knew the town’s blacksmith was a Drake the first time I saw him—even though I’ve never seen him Shift and to my knowledge he has never Shifted in or near the town.
In fact, I’m not sure many other people know he is a Drake Shifter—they might just think he has horns because he’s part Minotaur or part Satyr. Lots of males have horns—it’s not always an indication that you have a huge, fire-breathing dragon inside you.
But just thinking of the huge blacksmith with his tarnished silver eyes and his bulging muscles makes me quiver inside…
and not only with fright. Has the witch actually cursed me to seek him out and ask him to ruin me?
Because that’s what it would mean to show up to the dorm with green eyes and a big belly—the total ruination of my life and prospects.
“I’ll talk to my mother about it tomorrow,” Mirabella says, speaking to the group at large. “For now, we have to get back into bed before they find out we’re missing!”
This gets the girls going and we all file back into the dorm room and climb into bed. But instead of everyone settling down, there’s a lot of shifting and moaning.
“I can’t get comfortable!” Hortence mutters from the cot beside me. “I need to be filled!”
I have the same feeling she does, but I fight it. I grit my teeth and squeeze my thighs together, determined not to give in to the awful urges the witch’s curse has given me.
But try as I might, sleep won’t come. And all around me I can hear the sounds of faint moans and see the movement of hands under blankets. It seems that the girls around me are doing their best to help themselves and ease the burden of the curse…but I don’t think it’s working.
I’m tempted to put my hand between my own legs, but just then Sister Agatha comes sweeping into the dorm.
“Here now—what’s all this ruckus?” she demands as she walks down the center aisle between the two rows of cots. “I’ve never heard such noisy girls in all my live-long days!”
“Sorry, Sister Agatha,” Hortence begins. “It’s just that we all—”
At that point, Mirabella catches her eye and gives her such a look that she quails and breaks off abruptly.
“You what?” Sister Agatha demands but Hortence has been well and truly cowed.
“Nothing,” she whispers, sinking back down in her cot. “Nothing, Sister—nothing at all.”
“Well then…” Sister Agatha takes another long look around the room, her beady little eyes narrowing. It’s clear she knows something is going on—she just can’t tell what it is.
At last she gives a short, sharp nod of her bony chin and leaves the dorm, closing the doors behind her.
At once everyone’s hands go back under the covers. I hear muffled moans and gasps and panting…but no sounds of relief. No sounds of anyone reaching the peak or sighs of contentment.
I try touching myself too—after all, if everyone else is, I might as well. I turn on my stomach and reach a hand between my legs, being sure I’m well covered. This way no one can see what I’m doing—they’ll just assume I’m sleeping on my stomach—I hope.
My fingers find my pussy but it’s no good. Though I’m swollen and wet with need, no amount of teasing my little clitty gets me anywhere near to reaching the peak. I’m only making myself feel more frustrated and empty inside.
Unbidden, my mind strays back to the Drake blacksmith. What is his name? I don’t even know. I only know I have to stay far away from him. Because I fear that if I get too close, the curse will compel me to beg him to fuck me and swell my belly with his seed.
I can’t do that—I’d be homeless if the color of my eyes was changed! Homeless and pregnant and how would I care for the baby? What would I do?
I roll on my side and close my eyes. I do my best to get to sleep but try as I might, I can’t quite get the image of the big, dirty, frightening smith out of my mind…