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Unnatural Instinct: Blood Run

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You jump back with a scream and make to scramble away but he seizes you around the waist and hauls you off your feet. He’s so strong! The sheer force of his grab throws your head back and kicks your legs into the air. Screaming again, you scratch at his forearms. With a grunt, he drops you back to your feet. Your knees bow and you crumple into the mud and wet leaves. Not daring to look up, all you can see are his big, flat feet and his hairy legs. With a moan, you claw at the soggy earth as you attempt to wriggle away. Your terror has completely sapped your strength.

He doesn’t let you get far. His big flat feet step in front of you, halting your feeble progress. ‘Let me go,’ you moan. The cold and wet seeps into your shirt and you start to shiver. He moves quickly. You don’t even have time to shriek when he suddenly rolls you over onto your back. Now you have no choice but to face him. You stare up at him as he stares down at you.

‘Please,’ you say.

He has a strong nose and high cheekbones. His eyebrows are thick and dark and hang low over his gleaming eyes. And how they gleam—all over you. And for the first time you understand what it means for someone to devour you with their gaze. His eyes fasten onto your chest and you realise how you must look with your wet shirt clinging to your curves. You hastily fold your arms over your breasts but not before he physically responds. That trunk between his legs, which has sagged since the last time you saw it, slowly rises again, lengthening, thickening, the skin pulling back until it tightens into a shine.

‘You keep that thing away from me!’ you scream. You try to sound fierce but it’s hard when your teeth won’t stop chattering. He steps towards you and you clamp your knees together. You can feel mud all up your skirt and in your underwear. ‘Keep back!’ Your teeth clack again.

He pauses, looking down on you, as though considering, and for one brief moment you feel hope that he is more than just a beast controlled by his perverted urges, that he is more than just the big, swinging log between his legs.

You’re a desperate fool.

He pounces, you scream, and you hardly know what’s happening as you kick and scratch and bite. He goes for your shirt first. Buttons pop off. The fabric tears. There follows more tearing, yanking and grunting, as he rips it to shreds. He thrusts you onto your belly to do the same to the back of it, your cheek in the mud, your heartbeat roaring in your ears as he completes his task with wild zeal. There’s nothing you can do. You try to roll back over and swipe at him but all he does is sit heavily on your arse and pushes you back down. You gasp as he snaps apart your bra with one hard tug.

Then he’s at your skirt.

The fabric is thick and tough, but it means nothing; it almost seems to fall apart in his big, wild hands. The backs of your thighs feel the cool rush of air. Your underwear is still on. It’s heavy with mud and sticks to your rounded cheeks and along your crack—but not for long. You shriek as he rips it apart like its little more than tissue paper.

Then everything turns quiet. You can hear his long, steady breathing. Birds are chirping in the canopy above. A solitary frog is croaking somewhere by the stream.

Though the attack was terrifying, the silence is so much worse. What is he doing? What is he thinking? Does he think? You suck in a breath, thrashing out your arms, as he throws you onto your back. Parts of your clothes still cling to your privates. You grab at them fruitlessly as he reaches to yank them away.

‘No!’ You kick out at him as you clutch the useless remains of your shirt against your breasts. You shriek as he rips away the last of your skirt and underwear. You clamp your knees shut. He emits a long, low growl that makes you quiver in terror. Snapping your eyes shut, you turn your face away as he hovers above you. He growls again. Something hard and hot brushes against your hip and still you cling to your ragged shirt like it’s a shield, like it’s going to do any good against something like him.

You whimper as you feel the heat of his breath against your neck. You cry out as he fights away your hands and snatches away that little torn piece of useless shirt. You clasp your breasts with your bare hands. You’re completely naked now and utterly at his mercy. The coldness of the wet forest floor against your back makes you shiver.

He goes quiet again. He emits another deep growl which ends in a whine. You feel a rush of relief as he pulls away from you. Then his big hot hands grab at your knees and everything comes to a head.

‘No!’ you scream, sitting up and swiping out with your nails, but he just pushes you back down and thrusts open your thighs, and then his hairy face is between your legs. You jerk against the feel of his breath and the warm, excited snuffling of his nose as he sniffs you out. Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! What is he, a dog? Then he licks you and it’s like fire racing up your slit—and it’s not pain. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

Horrified, you clamp your knees around his outstretched neck. He roars and tries to pull back but you won’t let him, clamping down harder. He thrashes and squirms without effect. Finally, he grips your knees and manages to thrust them apart. He staggers backwards.

He’s hunched over and panting, his face red, the big muscles in his chest rolling under his skin. His lips are wet, his eyes wide. At his sides, his hands are opening and closing in and out of fists. The hair between his legs is wet and matted and what was once a blushing redwood is once again wilted and wrinkled and flops harmlessly between his thighs.

Still, it does nothing to curb his urge for you. You can see it in his eyes. He bares his teeth into a hungry snarl. The muscles in his shoulders bunch up. Those big ropey ones in his thighs tighten. You suck in a breath but he’s already upon you before you can scream.

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