Ice Red

Arctic Heat 2

Cobblestone Press LLC

Heat Rating: No rating
Word Count: 9,000
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Kerry Campbell is a shapeshifter who can't shift. Selected to join other wolf shifters at their arctic facility, Kerry feels like a freak. She's redheaded, for one, and she can't manage to shift no matter how many partners or what kinds of sex she tries.

A mysterious duo of dominating shifters sneak into her room one night and show her what kind of shifter she was meant to be, an arctic fox. But who are they? And will they accept a fox as a mate?

Ice Red
0 Ratings (0.0)

Ice Red

Arctic Heat 2

Cobblestone Press LLC

Heat Rating: No rating
Word Count: 9,000
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Excerpt

The storage closet was dark and stuffy. Kerry Campbell crouched behind boxes of industrial-strength cleaners, a vacuum, and an assortment of brooms and trembled.

Outside, she heard moans and thumps. Cries of pleasure. Urgent calls of “faster” or “harder” or “fuck me.”

She couldn’t go back out there. She just couldn’t. They wouldn’t understand.

Tears formed in her eyes. Before she came to this desolate outpost in Antarctica, she thought she’d found what she’d been looking for. After today, though, she felt like more of a freak than ever.

Six months with shifters of her own kind sounded like heaven. For a year or two, she’d suspected she wasn’t a regular human. When she’d received the letter in the mail from the Beta Group suggesting she apply for a space at the Atmospheric Research Observatory at the South Pole, she’d been ecstatic. A place for shapeshifters like her to explore their sexuality, figure out how to control their shifting. It was just what she needed.

But now she knew she was in the wrong place. What a mistake.

The door cracked open, and a stream of bright light blinded her.

“There you are,” said Hannah Preston, her guide. When she crouched down to Kerry’s level, a lock of her long black hair swung forward. “Come on out—it’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

A woman screaming in ecstasy interrupted the insulated quiet in the closet.

Hannah looked over her shoulder. “We’re just about done. Not everyone likes to participate in the games.”

“I don’t belong here,” whispered Kerry, drawing her knees closer to her chest. “It was a mistake. You have to see that.”

Hannah held out her hand. “Let me take you back to your room where we can talk. We’ll straighten this out, I promise.”

Kerry hesitated. When Hannah smiled reassuringly, she took a chance. She grabbed her hand and came up out of the darkness.

The scent of sex lingered in the air. The orgy was over. Thank God. A few naked males remained. They all stared at her as she walked by, following Hannah. She self-consciously tucked some of her wavy auburn hair behind one ear. She stood out like a weed in a field of wildflowers.

She diverted her eyes away from their cocks. Still half-erect. Still wet from fucking. One woman remained, her hair as black as Hannah’s. Two white-blond men held her up against the wall; one kissed her, and the other stroked her breast. Her nipple was a tight, pale point against even whiter flesh.

Kerry’s nipples hardened under the lace cups of her bright blue babydoll outfit. She’d tried. She’d really tried. Not that she couldn’t get turned on by the perfect male specimens or any of the variety of sexual activities scheduled. It was the idea of being in charge and asking for what she wanted that scared her. It was easier to wait it out in the closet rather than appear as if she wasn’t enjoying herself.

“Touch my pussy,” the woman told the man fondling her breast. “Make me come with your fingers.”

The man complied with a smile, dipping his index finger between the shaven lips of her cunt. His mouth latched on to the woman’s tit, sucking hard on her nipple. The woman bucked against his hand.

Kerry turned her head away from them. Her own clit throbbed with need. Her breasts were heavy and overly sensitive to the feel of the lace.

“Your room is this way, right?” Hannah asked. They had climbed up the stairs from the lounge area and were now in a long hallway with doors on either side.

“Yes,” Kerry said, biting her lip. She’d been here for a month now and hadn’t transformed once. Nor had she figured out how to become sexually fulfilled and initiate the change. Every sex encounter, every male she selected didn’t work for her. “I’m the last one at the end of the hall.”

“That’s right.” It was unusual for someone to need a guide this long. Guides typically helped out a new arrival for the first twenty-four hours. Introducing them to the games and toys. Explaining the rules. Answering questions. But it was up to the new shifter to explore her sexuality alone.

Kerry was embarrassed she still needed Hannah’s guidance.

They reached her room, and Kerry let them inside.

The king-size bed emphasized what the shifters were here for: sex. Kerry leaned against the dresser. Hannah sat in the strange chair in the corner with the footrests. Some sort of sex chair she had yet to try. It seemed pointless now to even think about using it.

“So, have you tried anything new this week? Did you take some of my suggestions?” Hannah’s face was all concern.

“This just isn’t working. You know it isn’t. I think I should go home. Someone made a mistake.”

“We don’t make mistakes.” Hannah crossed her lean legs. “Your blood tests were positive for the shifter gene.”

“But my hair...no one else has red hair.” Kerry touched a lock of it. “Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“I’ll admit, I was shocked to see you that first day. The women always have black hair, the men blond. But if you have the gene....”

“You keep talking about this gene.” Kerry turned away from Hannah and stared at herself in the mirror above the dresser. She looked nothing like the shifters here, genes or no genes. “As if that means something. What if I’m damaged? What if I have some birth defect that won’t allow the shifter side to come out? I just want to go back home.” The tears flowed freely now. To be on the edge of sexual desire with no real release for over a month, to be surrounded by fucking and naked bodies and sex toys...it was torture. Sexual torture.

“Kerry, we want to help. We really do. We may have found someone who can—a shifter who has an interest in your case.”

Kerry wiped her eyes with a finger and faced Hannah again. “Who is it?”

“A doctor. A male. He’s helped with problem cases before.”

“There have been others like me?”

“Well, not exactly. But there have been some with sexual issues. Past histories of abuse.”

“He’s a shrink, isn’t he?” Kerry paced the room. She’d been to psychiatrists before. This place was supposed to prove she wasn’t crazy. That the times she woke up nude, aroused, and outside on her lawn weren’t dreams. Those experiences were real. This place proved it. And now Hannah wanted to send her to another one?

“He might be able to help....”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were crazy.” Hannah sighed. “He’ll be here tomorrow. I’ll come for you in the morning.” She stood, adjusted her leather bustier, and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “My boys like the leather.”

Tomorrow there was a pirate party at ten, toy experimentation and instruction at noon, and a swap party in the afternoon. If Kerry met with the doctor, she wouldn’t be expected to attend any of them. Although she didn’t want to see him, the alternatives were worse. “Fine. I’ll be ready.”

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