Chapter 12
Seduction
The next few weeks were quite interesting. Mystique would come every night and bring him food that would last him the whole day. Then after she left Azazel would be left to his own devices until she came back the next time. It was a hideously boring existence doing nothing but eating, sleeping, and waiting. He had long since memorized this area's magnetic field in such detail that he was sure that it was burned into some part of his brain. And recently his strength had returned to the point where he could stand and pace in his tiny shack while he waited. This gave him plenty of practice walking with his tail, but it was still utterly boring.
But while Mystique was around it was anything but boring. Besides bringing him food she would keep him company for an hour or so. She would patiently listen to his thoughts and snippets of his past sometimes adding a comment or two of her own. He would rage against those who abandoned him and cast him out. He would complain about his backward ultra-conservative hometown. Everything that he'd disliked about his old life he would tell her and she would listen. Never before had he expressed these thoughts out loud to anyone and once he had it gave him a strange feeling of relief.
When he finished speaking she would take a turn talking either about current events or her home life. Azazel had no real interest in current events because nothing significant happened. Politicians argued over every little issue from taxes to legislation and at the same time they tried to blacken their rivals' reputations. Environmental groups made the same protests over and over. It was all the same and utterly dull. Her life at home with her husband was far more intriguing.
Five years ago she married Count Dieter Darkhölme, one of the last hereditary nobles in the area. He was rumored to have been quite a handsome man in his prime, but that was long past him. Now at the age of 55 he was growing heavier, grayer, and balder. A car accident had taken his first wife from him and left him with a permanent limp. The loss of his wife, Lila, also left him bitter and cold. In fact, the only reason he had remarried was to win a trophy wife. And that's what he thought he got when he married Raven.
But the only reason that Raven had married him was for his social status and money. Even if he had no purpose as a noble in this modern age, he still had a sizeable estate. And in social circles he still had some serious clout. As his wife she now had access to both. She instantly became somebody in the world of the elite, something that she had dreamed of as a child. And she could now indulge in the more expensive things without fear of going broke. With prestige and financial security she was set for life.
There were downsides to this arrangement though. Dieter was a jealous controlling man. When they went out to parties together he refused to let her out of his sight and if she went out alone one of the servants was sent to follow her. The only time that she was free of observation was when she went for walks out in the woods. She was like a songbird in a cage. Dieter didn't love her, but he wouldn't let any other man love her either.
And, according to her, the sex was terrible. He was an unimaginative, unimpressive lover who failed to get her off when they slept together. He could barely last long enough for it even to be worth it to her. And perhaps worst of all there was no love behind their sexual activities, only a faint shadow of lust on Dieter's part and nothing on hers. It shocked and embarrassed Azazel to hear her speak so openly about something so intensely private. Thankfully she couldn't tell, with his red fur it was impossible for anyone to be able to tell if he was blushing or not.
Whenever she spoke of her household it was to complain about these two downsides. She constantly put Dieter down, berating his greed and possessiveness. If only there was some way to control or change him to suit her needs and desires. She told him that once she had even seriously considered taking him out of the picture and slipping into his place by using her shape-shifting ability. But it would be too difficult to fool all his friends and associates for very long. So all that she could do was tolerate Dieter until he finally lay down and died.
Azazel would be mesmerized by her as she spoke. He watched as she poured out all the emotions she was forced to hide and control in the words and gestures she used to tell her tales to him. He studied the lines of her face, the glint of her eyes, the angles of her body, and learned how to read her moods so exactly that he probably knew more of what she was feeling than she herself did. He found himself fascinated by her rages and despairs and enraptured by her rare moments of pleasure. For every second that she was present he was the happiest young man on earth.
By mid-November Azazel had recovered enough to leave the empty tool shack and move out into the woods. Mystique told him that he was free to come around at night so long as he wasn't seen by anyone but her. She would still provide him with food and some extra blankets and clothes for the coming cold. If he was seen, however, all that would stop. She would cut all ties with him and might even turn on him if he was discovered to protect herself. Azazel understood completely and eagerly agreed to her terms. He would do almost anything to continue to see this beautiful mysterious woman again.
He left the Count's estate and ranged over several square miles in search of a new home to spend the coming winter. As he scouted the surrounding area he made a startling discovery. While he'd spent a whole week walking before Mystique had found him he'd been walking in huge circles. He'd managed to keep from walking into towns, but in his increasingly delirious state he'd lost his grip on his magnetic sense and lost his way. So instead of walking in a straight line for one whole week, he'd walked in squiggly lines and circles. So now he found he wasn't one week away from Winzeldorf, he was more like three days away at most. While this bothered him, it wasn't enough to make him want to move further away.
After a few days of fruitless searching and sleeping in trees Azazel finally located a cave that would suit his purposes perfectly. It was only a few hours away from the estate and very difficult to find if you didn't know what to look for. The opening was small and covered by a thick clump of bushes. Less than a foot past the narrow opening the cave it widened into a surprisingly large chamber that was dimly lit by a few scattered holes in the ceiling. The floor was made of compacted earth and it was quite dry inside. At the very back of the cave was a small, cool trickle of clean freshwater that could easily be caught by a small bowl or cup. With a little bit of work this place could be very livable, maybe even cozy.
With his new home selected he was free to get on with things. Every night he would return to the estate and spy onto the grounds from a treetop. Sometimes she would come out and visit with him and other times she wouldn't. The only thing that she would do every night was leave a basket of food for him. He would take the basket back to his cave and empty it of food. Then he would return the empty basket for Mystique to collect so that no one would notice. So secrecy was preserved and food was provided.
When Mystique did go for a walk in the forest he would always be there. Once she was out of sight of the mansion he would slip out of the concealing shadows and move to her side. Then they would keep walking away from the building until they both felt safe from prying eyes. Once a spot was selected they would sit and talk about anything and everything. It was all meaningless chatter, just a simple excuse to see each other. There were even a few times when they really said nothing at all. He would simply sit beside her and let her stroke his velvety red fur.
He knew that it was inappropriate. She was an older married woman and he was barely of age. But the sensations she could evoke simply by petting his fur were indescribably wonderful. Every little touch sent waves of tingling warmth racing down his nerves and into his middle. The first time she did it, he discovered yet another new ability. He now could purr like a cat. It startled them both when he did it the first time, but now they were used to it. In fact, he thought she might even enjoy it when he purred since she was doing it more and more often. Not that he was complaining or anything.
But one night, everything changed. They had gone out to a favorite clearing where the moonlight gave everything a strange silver glow. It was near the end of November now and getting colder, but it was still a wonderful night. Mystique didn't seem to be in the mood for talking so she engaged in stroking his fur to calm herself and pass the time. Azazel guessed that she'd had another argument with her husband, the fire in her eyes and the tightness of all her muscles told him that she was definitely not happy. So he let her have her way.
Then things began to intensify. She moved her touches from his arm to his tail and it went to a whole new level. The sensations were essentially the same only multiplied in intensity tenfold. Now matter how loudly or hard he purred it wasn't enough to describe how incredibly good it felt. His willpower instantly melted into a puddle and vaporized leaving not a trace behind. He would do just about anything to make her keep doing what she was doing. He must have died and gone to heaven; that was the only explanation for these wonderful waves of electric heat.
Suddenly there was a pause. She stopped and the purr abruptly died in his throat. He looked at her and saw an expression he'd never seen before. Her eyes glittered darkly with an intensity that made him shiver. Her face was nearly blank of any expression, but what little was, was just as intense as what he saw in her eyes. She was sitting so close to him now that her entire left side was pressed up against his right side. His heart wouldn't stop racing. For a long moment he felt confusion and disappoint. And then he understood. This was what lust looked like.
The instant he understood he made up his mind without an ounce of hesitation. She was giving him a choice whether or not to continue by pausing and he chose to continue. He leaned in the last few inches and kissed her. It wasn't the best kiss in the world, he'd never kissed a girl in the world, but that didn't matter. She understood and took things further for him. He willingly followed her lead and let it happen. As the successive waves of increasing pleasure slowly drowned his rational mind he laughed inwardly about the irony of it all. Here he was, a child of Winzeldorf, the most religiously conservative town in Germany, committing adultery with an older married woman. Put that in your pipe and smoke it Vati!
