The Werewolf's Child

Sunlight on Water

Sev stayed a panther for three days which worried Gavin and Amanda quite a bit. If it worried Remus he kept it to himself, calmly reassuring the children that Sev would return to human form when he felt ready.

It was the fourth night after his rescue, a clear night, with the waning moon shining on the restless sea. Remus had fed the children bread pudding for supper, with generous helpings of Aunt Spider's beach plum compote which stood in rows in the cellar in neatly labeled jars. Then he'd read to them in bed, the fire crackling in the small fireplace in the room Pepper and Spider had designated for a nursery. The panther lay stretched beside Remus, purring loudly, his head a heavy weight in his lap, while Amanda and Gavin took turns scratching his stomach. Remus had found a whole series of Pippi Longstocking books on a shelf in the parlour and he and the children had been devouring them hungrily. They found the simple tales of childhood adventure were a soothing tonic after all the terror and fear they had experienced.

He tucked the children in and left the panther dozing by the fire, then went to take a long hot bath. He was actually starting to relax. He missed Sev, the man, but life with Shadow, the panther was remarkably peaceful. Gavin and Amanda were content. Aunt Pepper and Aunt Spider seemed genuinely happy to have them here, and did everything they could to make them feel welcome and at home. He spent the days with the panther and the children, helping the old ladies in the goatshed and the garden, taking long walks on the beach and the brambly stony hills that comprised the little island. The spring days were soft and warm, and he felt safe on this island, out in the middle of the sea. Voldemort and his Death Eaters and the war felt very far away.

Remus looked down at his huge belly, which rose like a large pink bubble out of the bathwater. The skin was stretched tight as a drum across his abdomen, and lately there didn't seem to be enough room in his body for his lungs. Not to mention his bladder. His nipples were dark and pointed, each one surrounded by a new layer of fatty tissue. Remus thought they looked ridiculous on his angular, hairy chest. He sighed. He had chosen this. He wanted this baby, but he was sick to death of being pregnant.

When the water cooled he hauled himself out of the tub reluctantly, toweled off, and put on a flowery dressing gown he had borrowed from Aunt Spider. He headed down the hall and entered his darkened bedroom.

A driftwood fire purred gently in the fireplace, otherwise the room was unlit. The moon rode high in the spring sky casting the room in silvery light. The panther lay in the middle of the bed, a circle of black velvet. He raised his head and gave Remus a look of pure animal hunger.

"Really?" said Remus gesturing to himself. "I'm the size of a small whale."

He walked over to the window, and let the flowered dressing gown fall to the ground. The light from outside shone on his full belly, round as the moon itself.

Silent as black silk, the panther slithered off the bed and padded over to Remus. He made a soft sound in his throat, not quite a purr, not quite a question. It made Remus' breath catch, the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

"If you want to have sex," Remus said, "you'll have to turn into a human. I don't mind a little kink, but I draw the line at bestiality."

But the panther was rubbing himself sensually, against Remus' thighs, against his his tight protuberant belly, against his cock, which grew hard at the touch of the soft silky fur. The panther rubbed his body against Remus, his whole side rippling like one long sinewy muscle, Then his tongue was darting out, licking in all the soft sensitive places that a panther tongue had no business being, and finally, lapping at his cock. It was a soft, velvety tongue, not raspy as he would have expected and it knew what it was about.