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Claimed by the Beast(16)

By:Natasha Knight


She shook her head again, pleading with him to stop from behind her gag,  but he ignored her. When he pressed the second finger to her hole, the  discomfort turned to pain but he just kept going, kept pressing in and  out, in and out, until she knew both fingers were fully inside her.

"Just relax and maybe you can enjoy it," he said.

She tried to tell him that she'd never enjoy it, that he was a monster,  more a monster in human form than in beast form, but the tape muffled  her words.

He moved his fingers inside her. "This will make it easier," he said.  His thumb came to rest on her clit. Her mind screamed for him to stop  but her body just reacted. When he touched her clit, it was just nature  taking over. "Ah, that's better," he said, smiling, moving his fingers  more freely. "Much, much better. Just another moment," he said, sitting  down now. She couldn't tell what he was doing and didn't want to know.  She turned her mind off at that moment, willing herself to separate from  her body, forcing herself to not feel even as he rubbed her clit while  his fingers worked inside her.

"All right," he said, pulling his fingers out. "That's over. Nothing  wrong that I can feel or see. Curious why such a pretty little thing is  still a virgin though."                       
       
           



       

She refused to meet his eyes but watched as he moved to the sink and  washed his hands. Once he'd dried them, he took a needle and attached an  empty vial to it.

"I just need to take a sample of blood, then you'll be all done. I'll need some more equipment before I can extract the eggs."

He didn't need to hold her still, the way he'd bound her she could  barely move. Instead, she watched the needle pierce her skin, the pain  only momentary while the barrel slowly filled with her dark red blood.  When the first vial was full, he removed it and replaced it with  another, taking a second then third helping.

"All done. You were very good, Rachel."

He took the scissors out of his pocket and cut her bonds. He then stood  her up, looked down at her standing there naked and helpless, her mouth  still covered with tape. He slipped off his lab coat and put it over her  shoulders.

"I'll get you something warmer to wear. Do you need to use the restroom before I bind you?" he asked.

She pointed to her mouth, her eyes pleading with him to take the gag off.

"All right, since you've been good, I'll take it off. If you make any  noise, however, I will replace it immediately and it won't come off  again, do you understand?"

She nodded.

He tore it off and she winced, the skin tingling after the initial pain  from the removal of the tape. He then led her to the mattress on the  floor and cuffed her to the beam again. Once this was finished, he  stepped back and immediately stumbled backward, grabbing his head with  both hands and crying out in pain.

"Oh my God!" she said, watching him. It was happening, she knew it. This  was different than the other times when he had pain. "Lance. Lance!"  she screamed. "Uncuff me, Lance. Please! It's happening, you're  changing!"

She watched as, before her eyes, his shirt and jeans began to tear. She  screamed in terror and he opened his eyes, the look in them as afraid as  she felt.

His body was growing and she could see how much pain he was in. He stared at her, unable to move. "Help me," he managed.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she watched, powerless to help either herself or him.

He screamed with the next phase of the change and struggled to the  stairs, looking at her one last time before forcing himself up. She  heard the door close and the heavy lock turn and for the first time  since she'd woken up, she was glad to be locked in the basement of his  house.





Chapter Eleven





"Christ, what the hell is that smell?" Marcus asked, walking up toward Rachel's back door where Elijah stood waiting.

Elijah tossed a pair of jeans at him. "Took you long enough. You're out of practice."

Marcus pulled the jeans on and without another word, walked toward Elijah and the two hugged.

"Good to have you back," Elijah said, patting his back.

Marcus nodded. "Should have come back a while ago." He nodded toward the inside of the house. "Have you been in yet?"

"I just got here," he said, shaking his head. "She hasn't been answering  her phone, but that's not unusual for Rachel these days."

"No, this is different," Marcus said, pushing past Elijah and heading  inside. "Do you smell that?" he asked, wrinkling up his nose.

"How can you not?" Elijah asked, walking in and closing the door behind  him. He looked around at the state of things in the kitchen. "Well, she  did get the kitchen cleaned up at least," he said, noticing the dry  dishes in the rack.

"Rachel?" he called out as the pair walked into the living room.

"This isn't good," Marcus said. "Rachel?" he called louder when he saw  the torn bag of groceries, the oranges that had rolled into the living  room.

"I'll go upstairs," Elijah said, calling to her again.

Marcus turned to the basement door. "The smell's stronger here," he  said, running toward the basement, noticing the lights were still on. He  flew down the stairs. Maybe she was in the safe room. Maybe something  had scared her enough to chase her into the safe room.

"Rachel. It's me, it's Marcus," he said. It was then that he saw her  phone on the floor. He squatted down to pick it up and found the glass  shattered at the front.

"She's not upstairs," Elijah said, fishing out his key for the safe room.

"She's not here," Marcus said, looking around.

Elijah unlocked the safe room and pulled the door open. "Rachel?" he asked.

"She's not here. Fuck! She's not here."

Elijah looked at Marcus and Marcus ran a hand through his hair and  turned away, slamming his fist into the wall. "If I'd been here to  protect her … "                       
       
           



       

"We don't know what's happened yet, Marcus."

"What the fuck do you think happened? She drops a bag of groceries  obviously panicked, trying to get to the safe room and we find her phone  shattered in the basement, light still on." He ran up the stairs.  "Christ, front door isn't even locked."

Elijah came up behind him and closed the basement door. "Let me call  Kayla. We'll go find her. That stench has something to do with it, I'm  sure."

"You think it's what we heard the other night?" Marcus asked while Elijah dialed Kayla.

"Hey, hon," Elijah spoke into the phone.

Marcus could her the baby crying in the background. He'd never even met his brother's baby. What kind of man was he?

"I have to look for her. Just make sure you lock up, keep the phone next  to you, understand? Don't let anyone in until I get home."

Elijah listened.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to scare you. Just stay in the house for me. I'll feel better about it, okay?"

He nodded.

"Good girl," he said. "I'll call you as soon as I can."

"We'll shift and follow the scent. It's got to be connected," Marcus said.

"Just a minute," Elijah said. Marcus watched as he scrolled through his  missed calls. "There was a number I didn't recognize," he said,  apparently finding that number. He hit Call and put the phone on  speaker. After four rings, it went into voicemail: "You've reached the  voicemail of Professor Lance Weston … "

At the end of the message, he hung up. "I've never heard of a Professor Lance Weston," Elijah said.

Marcus stiffened.

Elijah looked at him. "Come on, we'll follow the scent, see where it  leads us," he said, putting a hand on Marcus's shoulder. "It's not  happening again. Everyone who was involved died, Marcus."

Marcus searched his eyes. "We don't know for sure," he said.

Elijah inhaled and exhaled. "Let's go. We're of no use to her here."

Marcus nodded and the two set out into the night.



* * *



The creature roared and pounded on the door. Rachel cowered in the  corner, trying to cover her ears, tears streaming down her face.

"Please go away. Please go away," she repeated over and over again. She  wasn't sure how long it had been, but it felt like an eternity since it  had been trying to tear down the door.

Just when she thought she couldn't take another second of the noise, it  stopped. As abruptly as it had begun, it stopped and there was no more  sound at all. She looked up from between her arms toward the stairs but  all remained quiet. In fact, she heard nothing at all. She wiped her  face on the sleeve of the lab coat he had given her to wear and shivered  a little. He hadn't had time to get her anything warm and it was cold  in the basement. She thought of him, of his plea as the obviously  painful transformation from man to beast took place. He had begged her  to help him. His eyes had been as terrified as hers. Even after what he  had done to her, what he planned to do to her, she felt pity for him.