Daphne was leaning
back on her barstool soaking up the heavy throb of the disco music,
she hadn't felt so exhilarated in ages, almost as though the beat was
harmonious to her biorhythm. If she had been alone she would have felt
like stirring her inner self. It would have made sense to slip back
home and have a wild night of sex; only her boyfriend had done just
that while she was away on a business trip. With Daphne's room mate
needless to say. Prick; only maybe she could find a bigger one. Not
tonight' she thought. They were all arseholes.
"Can I buy you a drink?" asked a figure with a slightly tense
Daphne sat up and looked at the man, instant appraisal mode. Five foot
ten, black shirt, black trousers, black hair, blac... Probably, brown
eyes. No, they were black too, an evil bastard with a one track mind.
It was a stupid notion, only his eyes were too close together. Weirdos
seemed to come out of the woodwork on a full moon.
"No, that's alright I can buy my own."
"I'm not trying to chat you up exactly, I'm celebrating a promotion;
only as I work from home I'm a little short on company." Daphne
double checked, maybe there wasn't any hair on the back of his hands
but he already had an erection, that was just as dangerous. Anyway,
how was it possible to not exactly' chat anyone up? "You
get it, I'll tell the barman I'm paying, I just need to slip away for
a second." No doubt to realign his trousers so it wasn't sticking
out so far. Daphne ordered a white wine spritzer, took a couple of sips
and scanned to heaving dance floor. It was as though all her senses
were working overtime, she could hear everybody's heart beat. There
was one that was almost racing, he was walking back towards her. After
he had paid for the drink he tried to act casual, leaning on the bar
with one elbow. "I'm Ralph," he offered.
"I'm not interested."
"A rather odd name," he laughed. "What is so interesting
about the ceiling?"
"You were staring at the ceiling for ages."
Daphne looked up, the lights made it hard to see into the void. After
a few moments she realised that she had been focussing on infinity anyway.
"Nothing," just like on the dance floor.
Ralph was smiling inanely as she took another sip from her drink. Almost
as though he had accomplished the impossible; or jerked off. It didn't
matter, she looked at his hands and shook her shoulders almost imperceptively.
Obviously not that insignificant a movement after all. "Nothing,
a passing thought." Yes, he was a mechanic and if he paid as little
attention to the rest of his body as he did his hands it was a good
thing she didn't fancy him. By the time her glass was empty she had
decided there weren't any worthwhile men in the place, stood up and
felt a little odd.
"Are you alright?" offered the still hopeful suitor.
"Woozy, I must have got up too quickly."
"I'll walk you to the door if you like, just in case you stumble."
On the way out Daphne called a cab. "How will the driver recognise
you?" asked the dispatcher.
"I'll be the only woman worth looking at I imagine, red dress."
Ralph walked out with her. "My car is just over there," he
"Yes, but I've ordered a taxi and I wasn't born yesterday."
"Walk with me," he demanded, taking her arm.
Daphne wanted to step back and kick him in the balls, only the word
walk' had activated her legs. Before she realised where she was
going she was sitting in a car and Ralph was starting the engine. "What
the hell is going on?"
"I thought we'd go back to my place."
The woman was getting more incapable of logical thought, almost by the
second. A voice inside told her that she had been drugged; that meant
she would be raped within the hour. At least she wouldn't remember it
in the morning.
At ten the following day
Daphne walked into a police station. "I think I have been raped,"
she said with some uncertainty.
"Why only think?" asked the Desk Sergeant lazily.
"I was probably drugged. I don't remember leaving wherever I was
or even a man's face. That isn't logical on four wine spritzers."
That was when she realised it might just have been Ralph, thought that
was probably not his real name. Only she couldn't be sure; it wasn't
even worth mentioning.
A policewoman appeared, led her to the toilets to produce a urine sample
while they waited for a police surgeon to check for sexual activity.
It wasn't a surprise when both were positive. Only it wasn't going far,
she didn't even remember the colour of his skin. At least she was given
a morning after pill; it was more the risk of an STD that worried her,
sex was clearly unprotected. At least they had a semen sample if she
ever had a twinge of recognition. Wearily she found her way home, soaked
in the bath for an hour before trying to come to terms with it. At least
she didn't feel degraded, she wasn't aware that anything had happened.
The mosquito bite on her arm was more annoying than a void in her memory.
As she watched the local news that evening she almost felt relieved
she had only been raped, a man had been found ripped to shreds in his
own flat. Police were at a loss, they were all but begging for people
to come forwards. Their nearest guess was that someone in the neighbourhood
was missing a tiger. Luckily there were no photographs to detail the
Still, Daphne must have had some psychological damage, she hadn't the
courage to go out in the evening for several weeks. Eventually logic
called, reminded her that if she had a steady boyfriend she could receive
sex therapy. When Friday rolled along she smartened herself up and took
a taxi into town. Maybe she needed to move, there was a definite lack
of talent in the area, plenty of enthusiastic offers, just none that
made her even look twice. The third time she changed bars she virtually
sensed that someone was following her. As she picked up the pace the
figure behind her broke into a run, jostled her into an alley and held
a knife to her throat. Maybe she had a magnetic personality, for perverts
and low life.
"Walk slowly down here, past the dumpster will probably be far
enough. After all you aren't going to scream for help unless you want
your throat cut."
Daphne shivered, she just wanted to purr. "Will I be that bored?"
"Well, if sex is any good I tend to scream anyway."
"So we'll go right to the end, the warehouse there is empty. Looking
forwards to it then are you?"
"Look shit for brains, you have a knife so if you get angry I'm
going to end up in hospital or dead. If you are smiling I might just
manage to get home afterwards."
"Well, if you enjoy it maybe we can get something regular going."
"Like I'd trust you. If you force women to have sex at knife point
you must be lacking somewhere, apart from the obvious social skills."
When Daphne woke up in
the morning there was a void in her memory, only she knew she had not
been drugged again. Images were quite clear, up until a certain point.
The large man, six one maybe, muscular, square set, clean shaven, ushered
her into a dark empty room. There was a pile of sacking close to a window,
clearly visible by the silver light from the moon. Waving the knife
he watched her undress, suggested she turned slowly so he could appreciate
her figure. When he stripped, rather rapidly, she shook her head, well
it wasn't eight inches but it was quite fat. Warped a little, like the
man's mind. Words were not clear, only she persuaded him to warm her
up with a little foreplay. Little was as far as things went, within
a minute he was hammering against her groin like he was running the
hundred metres. Maybe two hundred as it was likely to last about fifteen
seconds. Obviously the reason behind the lack of a girlfriend; the staying
power of a gerbil. No, a stag. Daphne was so bored she had actually
compared him to a rutting male deer. They thrust themselves into their
chosen female then dropped away. Obviously not worried about satisfaction
in any quarter. As the human stag finished off, squirming against her
his nails dug into her back. That was when she must have passed out.
Only she didn't remember much about getting home. On the bedside table
there was only one ear ring. Still, it wouldn't be hard to find.
When she got into town she couldn't even turn down the lane, there were
police everywhere. "What's going on?"
"Some poor bastard was mauled to death last night," explained
an officer, shaking his head. "A guy was found in the warehouse
at the end, well most of him was anyway."
"Oh shit! I walked past here last night on the way home."
"What time?" he asked eagerly.
"Not a clue, I was too drunk to see where I was going."
"If you were that far gone you should have taken a cab. You could
quite easily have been raped, or worse."
"I never gave it a thought at the time," she sighed, turning
That evening the news report suggested that it may have been the same
cat that attacked a month before. There were savage claw marks on the
body and there was an inference that parts of him had been eaten. Police
believe that sometime before the attack the man had sex, possibly with
a prostitute, though rape has not been ruled out as there was a knife
at the scene. Police are asking for the woman to come forwards to help
fill in extra detail.'
"Like hell I will, I'm lucky to have got out alive by the look
The story went cold quite
quickly, Daphne decided it was prudent not to get involved, especially
as she seemed to be an easy mark. The main thing that confused her was
not the savage attack after she had left, even the rape itself; it was
the fact that she didn't feel hungry until Monday evening. Odd. The
following weekend she went out with a friend, safety in numbers, neither
woman found anyone interesting to entertain them, an uneventful night
on the tiles. It wasn't actually until the end of the month, another
full moon that Daphne's blood seemed to rise. Wearing a blood red dress
she went into town almost desperate for a rewarding night. That meant
some decent sex at the end of it. Aware of every male in the bar she
could almost smell what they were thinking, and a lot more besides.
There was a blond guy with a silk shirt who had washed his dick in aftershave
but not put on clean underwear, next to him was an effeminate man who
stank of shit and had his hand in his friend's pocket. The clean shaven
man just past them obviously did the washing up before he came out,
probably splashed his shirt; washing up liquid and burnt toast. Then
there were three young men, short cropped hair who had smoked Cannabis
in a car on the way over. One had a gun stuffed down the back of his
trousers, she could almost taste the metal, the gun oil smeared metal.
They were looking at her, trying not to stare. One was playing with
himself as they talked.
Time for a change of scenery. The youths followed her out in a line.
"Turn left, unless you want me to smash you over the head,"
said a soft voice. They all but bundled her into their car and drove
into the seedier side of town. Nobody turned a hair when they walked
her into a basement flat, even though she looked so out of place. Within
ten minutes everyone was naked and they were all fondling her perfect
body. Three against one, they didn't need the gun, so it was buried
under a mass of clothes. The leader suggested that Daphne went down
on his friend while he screwed her from behind. "We've got all
night, and don't worry, even if you scream nobody will give a shit."
The feeling of penetration wouldn't have been so bad if he had any technique.
Daphne's felt her hackles rise as he hauled against her shoulders to
"Careful Ricky, you're making her scratch my prick."
Scratch? Daphne felt something rise from the back of her mind, feeding
on the pain and anger. It was purring. As she sucked hard the teenager
started to moan.
"Hell woman, you're good at that, suck just as much as you can."
As though her throat was more open she enveloped his penis to the very
root, opening her mouth briefly to mould her lips over his balls. There
was a sharp click and he squealed. "Shit, watch those teeth, that
made me a bit sore."
Daphne swallowed, in fact she was swallowing quite frequently. The lad
beneath her had been reduced to moaning, as her fingers lifted his shoulders
off the bed blood began to trickle down them. The leader was getting
to that time he would lose concentration, it was going to be soon. The
thump against her backside became more frantic, then she felt hot inside
and the rapist fell away moaning in enraptured ecstasy. The moment her
body was free Daphne pushed herself off the bed and sprang onto the
other figure who was standing close enjoying the visual display, her
mouth, already covered in blood locked around his throat and they collapsed
to the floor together.
"Hell, she must have been gagging for it," laughed the leader,
lying across the mattress staring at the ceiling. There was no reply,
Daphne's jaw was locked like a vice around her victim's throat preventing
any movement of air or sound. Within three minutes there was no muscle
tension and she released him. When she pounced back onto the bed, over
the grinning man she licked her lips. "Why is your face all red?"
"Blood does that," she laughed as she opened her mouth.
"Oh fuck!" Inches in front of his face was a beautiful woman,
was. The lines were distorted by the amount of teeth packed into her
mouth. Not just any teeth, very sharp looking ones, more like a tiger
than a human. That was when he lost all colour from his skin. There
was allegedly a tiger loose in the neighbourhood. One that fed when
the moon was full. Daphne's hand caressed his face, inch long claws
occasionally breaking the skin. Then she leant to one side and slashed
them across his stomach. The pain was incredible. As he opened his mouth
and forced all the air out of his lungs her hand plunged into the cavity.
"Don't you remember? Nobody can hear you scream." Briefly
his body lifted off the bed, then Daphne's hand appeared in his line
of vision. Well, he had always wondered what his liver looked like.
Understandably he lost consciousness.
"Ricky," moaned a voice. "What's happening? I hardly
have the strength to lift my head."
"That is because I swallowed your dick and about two pints of blood,"
Daphne laughed. A single finger inscribed a deeply cut line down his
chest, causing a feeble scream. Then she punched him hard and his ribs
cracked open. Using both hands she ripped him open, slicing through
mushy lungs to pull out his heart. It was still pumping feebly when
she bit off one end. There was no rush, Daphne dined at leisure, trying
to decide which flavours she enjoyed the most, muscle or organs. There
was a lot to be said for a good mouthful of thigh. The house was as
still as the grave, well that was understandable. Logically it was the
gang's hide out, nobody would arrive unannounced. When she felt bloated
she took a shower, then strolled around naked for a while. Eventually
she was tired enough to sleep. Luckily there was a clean bed in the
Daphne woke just after sunrise. "Hell, that was one damned strange
dream. Gruesome or what?" When she sat up all colour flooded from
her face. The room was identical to the one in her dream. Even down
to the two mutilated corpses and the one with only a crushed neck and
no pulse. "Oh shit."
In the stark light of day there was no urge to feast further on human
flesh. Dressing quickly she tried to think analytically. Fingerprints.
Only she knew that before she went on the rampage she had touched no
hard surfaces. After that... The bathroom. It was an hour before Daphne
had the confidence to leave, sneaking out of the back wearing the clothes
of the one she had suffocated, there was virtually no blood on them.
As they were at the bottom of the pile even blood spraying out of severed
arteries hadn't reached them. They were not a bad fit considering the
choice of useable items. Nobody took any notice, when she got to her
place she wrapped the man's clothes in a black bin liner and left them
by the door. Everything made sense, especially a lack of hunger after
That evening there was a strange report on the news. A cat was shot
dead at Bucharest airport after it was disturbed while eating a sleeping
baby. The parents had nodded off waiting for a delayed flight and the
child had died without uttering a sound. The windpipe had been crushed.
Daphne's skin seemed to shrink, tightening over her whole body. Daphne
had probably even seen the animal, sleeping in a corner while she waited
for her flight out after a special meeting about opening a tourist route
through Romania. Only she hadn't been attacked. When she tried to laugh
nothing came out. So she had seen American Werewolf in London, and The
Curse of the Wererabbit but that was fiction. Well, perhaps she did
have a pussy that tended to object to penetration without the appropriate
consents. Perhaps it wouldn't be a good idea to go out on a full moon
for a while. Only she didn't grow hair and turn into a cat! Well, obviously
her bite had improved and the phrase scratch your eyes out' could
be accurate, only she obviously still looked human because none of her
victims had realised until just before she butchered them.
At work on Monday a friend commented on her appearance. "Too many
cream cakes girl."
"No, just one heavy meal, I haven't worked it off yet," she
replied with a wide grin. "Tony, didn't you think about becoming
a doctor before you took an easy option?"
"Yes. I couldn't hack it. It made my head burst, dropped out after
two years. I'd make a good paramedic."
"How can you catch something without contact?"
"Like what? You don't get an STD off a toilet seat if that is what
you are worried about."
"No, I was thinking more along the lines of a tropical disease."
"Insect bites can be fatal. Sleeping sickness, Malaria, then they
lay eggs under the skin." Daphne rubbed her arm. "Daphne,
what do you think you have caught?"
"No, it's insane. Forget it."
"Get a blood test, quickly."
"I can't, it might prove unhealthy." Like if a doctor found
out she would be locked in a padded room.
Only on the next full
moon Daphne wanted to go out on the prowl, on the pull, on the kill.
Instead she sat in front of a mirror all night watching to see if she
changed. In vain. It was the weekend, she visited a friend. "Tony,
can you keep a secret? I mean like your life depended on it?" Well,
he should be safe in daylight.
"Yes, I think I could manage that."
"I eat people," she said calmly.
The man laughed. "Hannibal Lecter you are not." Daphne placed
three newspaper cuttings on the table and he paled a little. "I
"I was bitten by a mosquito in Romania. I think I am a werecat.
Only as there was no animal saliva I don't change that much. I don't
remember much about the first two, but the dead thugs I have in detail."
"You are winding me up."
"Last night I watched myself, I didn't change. It seems that I
need to get angry, like every time I get raped."
"After the first occasion I think I go out looking for it, so I
attract the right type of meat."
"So why are you telling me?"
"I need help."
"What do you imagine I can do?"
"You are the closest thing to a doctor I can get."
"Did you want to go out and kill last night?"
"Yes. Maybe I want the sex primarily. I'm a cat, I need mating.
Only if it isn't an alpha male it will get ripped apart. Naturally most
of the suitors so far have been against my will anyway."
"Then you need to find one of those."
"So far nobody has lit my fire, just my angst. Would drugs help,
when it gets near my time of the month?"
"Maybe, only a cat's system is different, when you change they
may prove ineffective. Your best bet is a steady boyfriend."
"Graham played around, if I found out on a full moon a man wouldn't
"I suppose I can give it a little thought. Only I imagined that
werewolves were pure fiction."
That night the urge to go out was irresistible. Dressed to kill she
found her prey in the second bar, a creepy middle aged man with pebble
glasses who had been leering at her since she walked in. So he wasn't
her type, but he smelt clean. No doubt he was married, he had the kept
look. As he approached a voice from behind her stopped movement.
"Daphne, I said the Shoulder of Lamb, not the Slaughtered Lamb."
There was a smile on her face when she turned. "What are you doing
"Saving you spoiling that dress. Lets take a stroll, amongst people."
Daphne finished her drink and they walked out beneath the light of the
large silver moon. "I think I should stay with you all night, to
keep you out of trouble."
"At three in the morning there won't be any people around and I'll
be too tired to walk."
"Then we go to your place. So long as I don't touch you I should
Almost reluctantly she agreed, they sat in a well lit lounge on separate
chairs with music playing, drinking coffee. Just after midnight Daphne
went to the bathroom, when she came back out she was naked. "This
isn't going to work, I want to fuck like nothing else matters."
Tony swallowed, before him was a very beautiful woman, it didn't matter
so much that she was naked, it was more that he had wanted to get her
into bed for two years. There was only one thing stopping him. Just
then it didn't really matter. Tony stood up and stripped off, let the
alluring creature lead him into the bedroom, to certain death. Tony
started off above her, licking every inch of her body. Painting her
with his tongue she writhed beneath him, when his hot mouth nestled
into her crutch she had her hands hard on his head, short claws scraping
the skin. "Fuck me Tony."
The man ignored the request, playing with tongue and fingers until she
was twitching, raking her fingers through his hair. Blood was trickling
down his face.
"I said fuck me Tony."
Tony turned around and gently slid inside her body. "I don't fuck,
I make love."
"You fuck, then you die. I'm sorry Tony, I have very little control
All his movements were gentle, loving as he said. When his tongue teased
hers it caught on her savage teeth, there was rather a lot of saliva
in her mouth too. "I want to save you but I'm not afraid to die.
I will anyway, you just may bring the date forwards a few months."
Tony was pulsing smoothly into her, warming her soul. "What are
you talking about?"
"I have myeloid leukemia, otherwise I would have asked you out
years ago. The doctors thought I was in remission. Only two weeks ago
it came back with a vengeance."
Daphne was beginning to pant, digging claws into Tony, deeper with each
thrust. "Tony, what are you saying?"
"I love you Daphne, I want to die in your arms."
"It looks like you will..." Daphne was lifting herself off
the bed to meet each action. "Get your wish."
Three things happened simultaneously. They both climaxed and Daphne,
flooded with uncontrollable passion dragged her head onto his neck and
twisted into his flesh. Tony, gasping for breath from exhaustion sighed
as he felt blood trickling into his throat from the inside.
Daphne woke with her teeth
still clamped tightly around her lover's neck. Smiling at the heat between
them, slowly, cautiously opening her mouth and pulling back she sighed
deeply. Tony was woken from an erotic dream to find a mouth enveloping
his prick. "Let's have human sex before we get up," she laughed.
"I thought I was going to die."
"It came close. Do you think a doctor could detect a werecat from
a blood sample in the middle of the month?"
"I don't know, why?"
"Well, if myth and legend run hand in hand with truth and reality
then as you are alive you might not die from leukemia. The down side
is you may have lunar tendencies. I feel quite normal, only as I didn't
feast on your body I'm hungry. I don't think I will be tempted to go
out tonight. If we have vigorous sex over the full moon perhaps I can
cut down on the amount of people I can eat."
Tony's doctor could not
understand why the fatal disease had disappeared. Neither was he concerned
over any unusual chemicals in the blood. So all they had to do was worry
about developing a sweet tooth during a full moon. A mouthful of long
pig. That also led to the possibility that Tony might play away'
to find a meal. That might anger Daphne a little too much to be healthy.
What is that saying? While the cat is away. Well, when the werecat is
on the prowl the city is in danger. Tony might have to be careful, only
Daphne was so beautiful it looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
No; just human flesh.
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