Page 54 of Snatched By the Sandman

Caught in her magical gaze, I feel the power emanating from Hecate, a raw and ancient force that terrifies and enthralls me. My tattoos pulse, my breast grow heavier, my nipples harden more, and my pussy smolders with a soaked heat.

Slowly, Hecate raises her arms, her elegant fingers elongating into sharp claws.

I choke on a breath as her gothic sheath merges with her body, the fabric melding into her skin as it turns into a sleek, fur-like texture. The eldritch symbols on her hair shift and twist, forming intricate patterns that glow brighter against the darkening fur. They remind me of shining silver tattoos.

As Hecate’s transformation continues, her body contorts and reshapes itself. Her limbs elongate and grow more muscular, her back arching as she falls onto all fours. The sounds of bones cracking and muscles stretching fill the air like a macabre symphony.

Awe fills my chest, and I can’t look away, mesmerized by Hecate’s face shifting, her nose and mouth merging into a powerful snout. Her eyes still burn with that intense bronze light, but now, they are more feral, more animalistic. Sharp fangs gleam in the moonlight as her lips pull back in a silent snarl.

It strikes deep cords of reverence into my being.

Within moments, the goddess crouches as a massive she-wolf, her fur black as midnight and gleaming with a supernatural sheen. The ghostly skeletal dogs, which had once accompanied her, now circle the bonfire, shaking their fur before they synchronize in a flawless circle and arch their bodies. Eerie howls thunder all around the circle. The sound spreads fire and ice in my blood.

Hecate, now a magnificent black wolf, steps closer to me, her glowing eyes never leaving mine. I sense the heat of the goddess’s breath on my skin. Intelligence and power radiate in those bronze eyes.

For a moment, the serpent binding my wrists loosen. A sacred honor weaves through me as I reach out a trembling hand.

The she-wolf lowers her head, allowing me to touch the soft, velvety fur. The second my fingers brush the fur, I yelp from the static prickle. A prickle like magic.

Hecate’s lips pull back with a toothy grin. Tilting my head, I match her grin. The connection between us is electric, transcending even the bonds of this world.

I’m humbled and honored to witness her transformation…and can’t help but wonder if there is more.

The serpents bind my wrists again. The ones coiling along my legs spread me wider.

Eyes widening with a morbid desire, I do my best to breathe as Hecate lowers her great black head between my thighs and sniffs at my sex. A gasp rips from my throat as she nudges her muzzle into my wet folds, parting the lips.Oh, dear goddess, is she…?

At the first swipe of her coarse she-wolf tongue against my distended clit, I come, the orgasm tearing through me like a storm of wildfire. I jerk and screech as hot waves of pleasure soak my face. But the goddess doesn’t stop. She laps at my juices,and my clit is pushed back and forth by the strength of her sandy tongue.

The twisted taboo of this overwhelms me, but any cries of protest perish. Nothing in me could claim otherwise. And I’ll indulge every drop of forbidden lust when I am in this world of dreams.

Hecate’s soft fur tickles my thighs. My fingers itch with the need to pull that massive head closer.

As she torments the fat, swollen nub, the other dogs close in. A wail breaks from my mouth at the first swipe of their tongues. They join with her, but they get my skin, licking my face, my throat, my breasts, rasping the pierced nipples. Hecate’s rough hot tongue stabs into my center, tasting and drinking my juices welling up like a flaming spring.

I go over the edge again, screaming and crying and rocking my hips, which has my breasts swinging, triggering the other dogs to sink their teeth in, anchoring me so their tongues may keep licking my hypersensitive buds.

Hecate swipes her thick tongue up. More licking my clit. More flicking and laving and mashing of the clit, and I come so many times I squirt a lake on the forest floor.

Finally, Hecate pauses.

A moment of stillness sweeps over the night, but I know deep within me that the Goddess of Magic is not finished.

“You taste like a divine dream, Zenya. You have pleased me, little weaver.”

I pant, practically melting into the soft earth below me. “And here I thought I was supposed to worship you.”

A deep snicker erupts from her throat as she shakes her fur. “Oh, you will, little one. I’m not done with you yet.”

When she mounts me and juts her hips, the sight of what she reveals tortures all my nerve endings.

The Goddess of Magic and Witchcraft has grown herself a cock, an engorged wolf shaft. My twisted heated gaze roams over every hard inch of it—a long, deep ruddy rod with raised ridges of delicious texture. It throbs and twitches. Hot tears glisten in my eyes from my emotion and the fire and ice warring in me.

If Hecate wants to rip me apart with that humongous wolf shaft, I am powerless to resist. Not that I would. Some dark voice in the back of my mind says ‘you’re insane’. Sure. I make no excuses for that.

I shiver down to my bone as she lowers her head and licks my tears away, her tongue warm and coarse along my cheeks, heightening my nerve endings. Hot prickles of pleasure tingle all over my skin as she probes the crown of that massive shaft between my pubic lips to prod my opening.

One long lick of her tongue curls around my mouth, and the goddess stabs inside me, sheathing herself deep, forcing me to open and stretch all around her. My mouth opens with a silent scream. Her tongue sweeps inside, and I choke on it invading my throat.

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