(Author's note: A few things should be noted
before the kind and daring reader continues. First and foremost, this is
not a nice story. It contains blood, violence,
non-consensual sex, and a number of other naughty things. It also contains
one Cinnamon DeWolf, and Eric, his vulpine man-servant/slave. Cinnamon and
Eric are copyrighted characters (the creator wishes to remain anonymous
due to the belief his association with the character may cause
work-related issues.), and are used with permission.
side-note, I ought to mention that this story is to some extent a "sequel"
in-as-much as it was written as a response to a rather sadistic story that
was written by the creator of Cinnamon and Eric. That being said, the
brave-hearted may read on...)
"An Acquired Taste"
A "sequel" to Cinnamon's gothic tale.
© Zoe Kimmel aka
Jeremy "Wolf" Kidd, 1993
Cinnamon awoke with a start, certain he had heard a
knocking. He paused, perfectly still but for his ears swiveling to catch
a sound. Nothing but Erik's soft breathing at the foot of the bed.
Cinnamon snorted, then shivered. What sort of fool would be out on a
frozen night like this?
just laid his head on the pillow, when he heard it again; a faint rapping
sound. Someone was knocking at the door!
"Erik!", Cinnamon hissed. There was a sleepy whine in response.
Cinnamon drew back a foot and kicked, knocking the fox off the end of the
bed. Erik fell to the floor with a loud thump.
"Sir?", whimpered the fox, peering trembling over the end of
"There's someone at the
door. Go answer it. Now."
Hastily, the fox padded out of the room and down the hall. It was cold in
the house at night, and he was naked, but he didn't dare pause to dress.
Cinnamon would punish him if he disobeyed, and Cinnamon had said "Now.".
Erik hurried down the stairs,
shivering at the cold air, and the frigid tiles under his feet. Halfway
down, there was another knock.
"Erik!" came Cinnamon's bellowed voice "Get that door, damn you!". Erik
stumbled and nearly fell in his haste, catching the banister with a gasp.
He scurried across the entrance and fumbled with the locks. The door,
once opened allowed in a rush of frozen air that chilled him to the bone.
He stood, shivering, and stared at the figure on the doorstep.
For her own part, she was shivering and
staring right back, probably a little nonplused to be greeted at the door
by a naked fox. She was a fox herself, about five feet tall, titanium
white with electric blue eyes. She was obviously not clad for the
outdoors, wearing a cut-off T-shirt, jeans, and a light jacket.
"Excuse my waking you please, but may I
use your telephone? My automobile has gone off the road, and I must call
for assistance.". She had a slight accent, and her use of English was
Erik blinked, trying to
think, but too distracted by the cold. Fear and uncertainty crashed
headlong in his brain as he tried to decide the course most efficient and
least likely to anger Cinnamon.
"ERIK!! ARE YOU TRYING TO FREEZE THE...oh!"
Erik whirled, cowering. Cinnamon stood at the top of the
stairs, bundled in a housecoat. His face was a mixture of fury and
surprise. Terrified, Erik stammered "I..I.."
Cinnamon silenced him with a gesture "Excuse my servant, my
dear. He's a bit addled at times. How may I help you?"
The vixen's face showed relief. "I would like
to use your telephone please. I have had an accident, and would like to
call for a repair vehicle."
Cinnamon studied the vixen for a moment, then smiled. "Certainly! It's in
the kitchen, down that way.". When she turned down the corridor, Cinnamon
grabbed Erik and pulled him close, hissing "Go to the basement stairs.
Open the phone box and disconnect the main trunk line."
"Sir?". Cinnamon slapped him.
"Do you want to be a very small problem, Erik?".
Erik scuttled away hurriedly, claws clittering on the tiles.
When Cinnamon entered the kitchen, the vixen
was standing in front of the phone, looking perplexed as she repeatedly
clicked the toggle.
"I am thinking it
is broken." she replied.
stepped over and flipped the switch several times. He feigned surprise
when the video screen stayed dark, and there was no tone from the speaker.
"It appears you're right."
vixen looked crestfallen "But I have to be in Los Angeles by tomorrow
night! I have a concert to perform!"
The wolf arched an eyebrow "Concert? You are with an orchestra?"
The vixen shook her head "A rock
band, "Vixen and the Nachtskinder". She looked terribly upset "I am the
lead singer and keyboardist. I must be there!"
Cinnamon gave her his most charming smile. "Why don't you
stay here for the night? The phones should be fixed by morning. You can
call the garage or rental agency then and still be in L.A. in plenty of
time for your concert!"
"Oh no! I
could not think of imposing on you in such a fashion, sir!" she protested
"I can walk to the nearest hotel and stay there until morning."
The big wolf chuckled. "My dear, you
are fortunate you found this place! There isn't another place for five
miles in any direction!" he lied.
The vixen smiled prettily "Then I believe I am your guest, sir." she held
out her hand "Anastasia Stasser, of Stuttgart, Germany."
Cinnamon took her hand, and kissed the back of
it. "Cinnamon DeWolf, of this place. Welcome to my humble home."
It took about half an hour to get
her settled in the guest bedroom, down the hall from Cinnamon's. The one
with ring-bolts inset at the head and foot of the bed, and the hidden door
with the access to Cinnamon's "playroom" in the basement.
Having bid her goodnight, Cinnamon led Erik
downstairs, and into the basement. The fox followed his master, shaking
in terror, unsure whether he was going to be punished, or not.
Safely sealed behind the soundproof door of
his "playroom", Cinnamon began to laugh coldly. "Isn't she a fine little
present to have pop up on our doorstep, Erik? A tasty little midnight
snack!" he whirled away from the fox, batting a restraint dangling from
the ceiling, and strode over to a worktable cluttered with bottles and
other assorted containers. "What's appropriate to our little German
morsel?". He rifled through the containers, selecting and discarding,
until he came up with a bottle of pleasantly amber liquid. "Perfect!".
He held the bottle before the fox's nose "Do you know what this will do,
The fox drew back, staring
wide eyed at the wolf looming over him "No, Sir." he quavered.
Cinnamon grinned "It renders the victim
completely helpless. You can see and hear and feel and talk, but not
move!" His eyes glittered "Imagine, laying there, unbound, yet unable to
escape, as someone does whatever they want to you!". He shoved the bottle
against the fox's chest. "Now, you are going to take this up to her room,
with a glass, and give it to her. Tell her it is a gift from me, a
liqueur to warm her and help her sleep better. Pour a glass for her.
Then come straight back here. Do you understand?"
Erik nodded quickly, and turned to go. He almost
gagged when a huge paw wrapped around his throat.
"Erik," Cinnamon's muzzle was inches from his own,
"If you drop that bottle, I will break you into as many pieces, and then I
will eat you. Slowly.". The fox gave a sob of terror, and scurried away.
Long minutes passed. Ten.
Fifteen. Cinnamon grew impatient. Cursing the fox, he made his way up
the secret stairs to the guest bedroom, and peeked through the peep-hole.
Erik was nowhere to be seen. Cinnamon snarled to himself. Then he
stopped. A slow smile spread across his muzzle. On the table was the
bottle, and a glass. The glass contained a tiny amount of the liquor.
And the vixen's motionless form was on the bed, covered by the blankets.
Erik was probably waiting in the basement. He undid the catch to the
secret door, and stepped into the room. Chortling his amusement, he
sauntered across the room and flipped the covers off the still form.
Erik stared up at him with glassy eyes.
There was a soft click behind
Cinnamon, and he whipped around. Anastasia turned from closing the secret
door. There was nothing of kindness in her smile. And her eyes were as
cold as the blackest Hell.
the..? How..?" Cinnamon stammered.
She laughed softly, the sound of icicles breaking on concrete. "He really
did try. Either he truly loves you, in some sick way, or you've broken
him quite completely. The latter I assume, from the likes of you."
Cinnamon snarled and swung a roundhouse
slap at her. She deflected it with frightening ease. Then she slapped
him. It was a short, sharp blow. Open handed, backhand. It nearly broke
his neck. He slammed against the wall and slumped to the floor, staring
at her in shock. "W-what are you?!"
She laughed again, that horrible, mad, cold sound. "I am Anastasia
Leonova Stasser, The Duchess of Pain. I am three hundred and fifty years
old, and I have seen more than you could ever dream of in your pitiful
She grinned at him, displaying long,
slender fangs. "Fool. I am Nachtskinder. Nosferatu. Wampyre."
It was like an icy fist had grabbed
Cinnamon's heart. He watched, frozen, as she glided over to the table and
picked up the bottle of poison. As she turned towards him, something
inside him clicked. She was going to kill them!! With panic driven speed,
Cinnamon burst for the door, yanking at the handle. Even as the cold
needle of realization that the door was locked sank into his stomach, he
felt her hand on his shoulder. She flung him across the room like a toy,
to land on the bed. For a moment, his eyes locked with Erik's, and he
could see his own terror mirrored there. Then her fingers locked in his
mane, and his head was yanked back until pain flared behind his eyes.
Something was jammed into his mouth, and then, without warning, he was
being drowned in warm liquid. He swallowed convulsively, before he
realized that she was pouring the poison down his throat. He tried to
gag, to vomit up what he had swallowed. But it was far too late.
Already his limbs were numb. She dropped his head onto Erik's chest with
"There now." she purred
"Both of you will be wonderful hosts, I'm sure! You shall keep me
marvelously entertained!". She rolled Cinnamon onto his back, off of
Erik, and picked up the male fox with one arm. She pulled the belt out of
Cinnamon's housecoat, and proceeded to tie Erik to the frame of the bed's
canopy, forcing him into a kneeling position with his hands over his head.
When she found the ring-bolts placed for just that reason, she cooed in
"You Americans think of
everything, don't you!?".
Erik was trussed to her satisfaction, she slid off the bed and slipped out
of her clothes. Then she climbed back on behind Erik, and wrapped her
arms around his waist. She began to rub against his back with her body.
She lapped at his ear, and murmured "You want to be a good host, don't you
Erik's voice was
thready "P-p-please, m-m-mistress..."
"Good!" she giggled, cutting him off. "Lets see what the house has
to offer then.". She reached down and cupped his balls and sheath, and
began to gently squeeze and stroke them. Erik moaned softly, endless
exposure to pleasure mixed with pain and fear betraying him. Within a
very short time, his slick pink cock was jutting proudly from his sheath.
Anastasia murred delightedly, and
ran her tongue over her fangs. "Such fine facilities this house offers!
But I wouldn't want to be a bad guest, and monopolize them either!". She
reached over the side of the bed and fished about in her clothes, finally
withdrawing a ten-inch long, bone handled switchblade. The blade snapped
open with a metallic *CLIK*. Anastasia reached up and cut Erik's wrists
free, then moved him so he was kneeling between Cinnamon's legs. Slowly,
patiently, she began guiding Erik's cock downward.
In shocked horror, Cinnamon suddenly realized her
intent. "Oh hell !" he moaned "Don't! Please don't fuck me dry!".
Anastasia ignored him, intent on her
purpose. Finally satisfied with her positioning, she slid her hands down
to grasp Cinnamon's hips, and shoved.
Cinnamon howled. Erik moaned. With unnatural strength, Anastasia
rammed the fox's un-lubricated cock up the wolf's ass. Roughly she jerked
the fox back and forth as Cinnamon wailed.
Eventually, the wolf's cries sank to quiet, agonized
whimpers as the fox's moans grew more insistent. Anastasia stopped her
thrusting, and pulled the fox free of Cinnamon's ass. She pulled Erik
back until his head rested on her shoulder. She began once again to pump
his cock with her fist, murmuring to him encouragingly. Erik's little
moans became quick little grunts, until finally, he came, spurting his
come all over Cinnamon's belly and groin. And in the moment he came,
Anastasia reared back and sank her fangs into his neck. Crimson spurted,
splattering Cinnamon and mixing with the come on his body. Cinnamon could
only watch in horrified fascination as a trickle of scarlet stained Erik's
white chest fur. The fox sighed softly as the vixen lapped at his neck.
After a time, Anastasia released
her hold on Erik, withdrawing her fangs with a slight, wet, sucking sound.
Gently, effortlessly, she picked him up, wrapped him in a blanket, and
laid him out on the couch. Then she returned to Cinnamon. She smiled
down at him, her delicate muzzle stained carmine. She settled down
between his legs where Erik had been, and slowly lowered her muzzle to a
point just above his sheath. She extended her tongue, and played with his
sheath-ring for a moment, then opened her mouth wide. Cinnamon whimpered,
and closed his eyes. He felt her tongue touch-down on his belly. She
began licking him. It dawned on him what she was doing. She was lapping
up the mixture of blood and come smeared across his body. He gagged at
"Don't be so
disgusted, dear wolf!" she laughed "It's actually quite tasty! And
nourishing too!" Cinnamon looked into her eyes, blue and utterly mad.
She held a finger before his nose, the tip dripping with thick pink
liquid. "Try it! You might find you like it!".
Cinnamon felt bile rise in his throat. He closed his eyes
again, and tried to shut himself away. She chortled.
"Don't worry, I understand.", he heard her licking
her fingers "It's somewhat of an...acquired taste.".
"Do you know," she hissed in his ear, causing him to
gasp in startlement." What the biggest problem with this little habit of
mine is?". She smiled down at him and arched an eyebrow.
Cinnamon blinked at her. She gazed back, her
expression one of patient waiting. After a few moments, he whispered
Anastasia leaned forward and
lightly ran the tip of the switchblade along the ridge just below his eye
socket "It is," she murmured, as he sucked in a terrified breath "That
there is never, ever, enough blood to go with all the come.". Her hand
flicked down, and the blade opened his chest from just below his collar
bone, to just before the bottom of his sternum, a shallow, painful wound.
Cinnamon had howled in fear
before. This time he screamed. He felt the blade, like it was red hot,
bumping down along his ribs. He began to babble at her, threatening,
promising, pleading, begging. She ignored him, and continued with her
lapping, feasting as his blood leaked into the bed. And slowly, like
Erik's, his body betrayed him too. The pain dulled to a numb throbbing,
accentuating the soft stroking of her tongue. Slowly, unbelievably,
Cinnamon began to get hard.
questing over his body, Anastasia finally bumped into the swelling shaft
with a startled "Oh!". She look from him, to his cock, and back again.
She smiled at him, obviously pleased. "What wonderful fortitude!".
Lightly, she ran her claws up the underside of his shaft. Cinnamon failed
to stifle a moan of pleasure.
vampire lowered her muzzle to his cock and started licking, her tongue
slithering over his member, slicking him down with her saliva. When he
was good and slippery, she swung a leg over his body and sank herself onto
him. She took him all, in a single stroke, to the hilt. Without a pause,
she started fucking him.
half groaned, half snarled, in pleasure and frustration and pain. He
wanted to grab her, throw her down and fuck her. Pound her until she
begged for mercy, begged his forgiveness. He wanted to punish her for
what she was doing. And he couldn't move a finger.
Anastasia was humping frantically now, her head
whipping side to side, long white hair a mad halo. Her pumping became
erratic for a moment, then she shuddered. She voiced a wild cry of
pleasure as her body spasmed around Cinnamon's cock. Then she went
perfectly still. Cinnamon choked out a curse. He hadn't come yet.
Slowly, trembling, she pulled off of him, and slid back until she was
laying between his legs. She began licking him again, one hand holding
just behind the head of his cock, squeezing gently. Her tongue caressed
him, wrapping around the base, pressing firmly as she stroked up the
underside of his shaft, and then flickering over the tip. Cinnamon's cock
throbbed painfully as she held him on the edge of orgasm. She sidled
herself up a little, arched her neck, and took Cinnamon's whole shaft into
with a howl that rattled the windows. Great, stabbing jolts of pleasure
slammed through his body, surging from the base of his spine into his
brain. Making his vision swim as he pumped come into Anastasia's
She bit him, sinking her
teeth into the base of his cock.
Cinnamon's world became a grey-red sea of ecstasy and agony. Stars spun
before his eyes. He was being frozen to death and burned alive. Sailing
through the air, and smothering to death. Somewhere in the distance, he
could hear someone laughing. And he realized it was him.
The world went away.
And, slowly, the world came back. Pain throbbed in every
part of his body, to the beat of his heart. He held his head, hoping to
ease the ache. And realized he could move again. Hopeful and afraid, he
opened his eyes. The vixen was pulling on her coat. She caught his eye,
"Ah! Herr DeWolf! I
had not thought you would wake before I left." she walked over and caught
his chin in her hand. He whimpered, but she only tilted his head up and
kissed him, forcing her tongue into his muzzle.
She released him, dropping him to the bed. She paused in
the doorway. "Goodbye, Cinnamon Dewolf. Perhaps we shall meet again,
someday. You are a wonderfully accommodating host, with such impeccable
taste. I shall have to visit you again sometime! Thank-you so, for
inviting me in. I believe I may have, perhaps, acquired a taste...for
The door closed with a
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