Some might be surprised that in the age of ubiquitous smartphones and tablets, the old-fashioned public libraries endured and even enjoyed some enduring popularity. The books were generally left to gather dust - outside those which had gotten a movie adaptation or a plug on a daytime talk show recently - but people still came, especially at a redoubtable old city branch library like this one, sprawling over 4 floors. Whether or not those people just coming to use the computers for free internet access or check out DVDs didn't matter, they still justified keeping the lights on.
 
Of course, the public's myopic focus on screens meant that the staff often didn't have that much to do. Some took naps. The responsible ones organized school trips and tried to get kids reading. Many simply indulged their love of reading. But for librarians like the still-ravishing and female Ms. Morgan Phillips, their options for passing the evenings were a bit wider.
 
Ms. Phillips had been reshelving books that she herself had surreptitiously pulled out a few hours ago in one of the more remote stacks. The quiet was so intense that a footstep on the soft carpet from 3 or 4 rows over struck her ear with perfect clarity. She smiled a bit tensely, but did not stand. Even though she was crouching calmly, her pulse was pounding as she wondered whether she would go through with a certain something... and another certain, not mutually exclusive, something. Neither of these somethings were remotely proper, yet there she was.
 
As footsteps approached the corner of the bookshelves, Ms. Phillips stood up very slowly. Very few would say that she looked her 37 years. Her dark brown hair was allowed to run down the sides of her face, framing her high cheek and sharply pointed chin, but was always done up in a proper bun in the back while she was at work. Her lips were soft and sensual even with minimal cosmetic assistance, and the tight black pencil-skirt she wore did plenty to show off her shapely thighs and apple-like derriere even as it covered them; naturally, her heels helped in that department. Of course, all of those attractive features were likely to be noticed only after a man first laying eyes on her had managed to drag his eyes away from her chest. The ruffled white blouse she wore was very prim and proper attire for a librarian but it didn't do much to conceal the small mountains on her chest. Even contained inside a bra, the motion of Ms. Phillips merely standing up and taking a step forward made the melon-sized eyecatchers bob up and down hypnotically. Ms. Phillips reached up to adjust her small rimless spectacles as she regarded her expected visitor.
 
Standing at the corner was a young man with stylishly feathered red hair in a brand-name polo shirt. He had the wiry, muscular arms and legs of a sprinter, and while his shoulders slumped low insolently, his mouth bore a near permanent self-satisfied smirk. "Hi Morgan. Goooood to see you." he said with the hint of a drawl he'd picked up going to an out of state college down south for the past few years.
 
"Hmph. Samuel Lyons." Morgan gave her head a little toss. "You know... you never were fooling anyone. The first time you showed up talking about how much you appreciated the city funding an institution like this and how you were working on convincing your father to make big donation, it was as transparent as glass that you were just crudely trying to get me to take notice of you so you could... get inside my..."
 
"If you didn't appreciate my crudeness, ma'am, you sure had a funny way of showing it." Samuel said as he walked closer, giving a joking shrug.
 
When the young man slid his hands around her waist and gave her backside a squeeze, Morgan didn't try to pull away but blew air through her lips. "Maybe I just thought it was cute. But it's not as cute the third time, now. Are you ever going to actually invite me out anywhere instead of just showing up at my place of work when you're as horny as a dog?" Despite her words she didn't hesitate in hiking up her skirt around her upper thighs, letting him get a glance at her cotton panties. "And for God's sake, what makes you think it's charming to call the woman you're sleeping with 'ma'am'?" Silently, she mused an addendum to herself - 'Do you really think I want to be reminded that I'm fucking someone who's young enough to be my son?'
 
"Hey, I was taught to be a gentleman, you know?" the boy said casually with another smirk, running his hand down her back. "I'll tell you what... I'm not as pressed for time today, so why don't I come back in an hour or so when the library is closing up and take us out somewhere nice for dinner? But c'mon... you can't expect me to spend an hour in the library all pent up like this without causing trouble. You'll have to give me some relief first. Then, I promise, I'll find something real challenging to check out and dive into it... you can even give me a quiz the next time I come back, a little book report, right?"
 
With a put upon sigh, Morgan began edging her hand over to the waistband of his pants. "We're standing awfully close to the window here, you know." she said sternly as she started to feel his bulge. "The office buildings across from here... you never know when someone might be watching."
 
"Won't be a problem when we're down on the floor... no cameras in here, right?" Samuel said in his usual effortlessly arrogant way, pushing Morgan up against the book stacks as he began rubbing his fingers up and down against the crease in her panties.
 
But just as her eyes were closing and the voluptuous librarian was beginning to moan softly there was a loud 'Chirp!' from Samuel's pocket. He winced a little and reached down to grab it. "Oh, uh, let me just see who that was before I turn it off..."
 
Partly playfully and partly out of real annoyance, Ms. Phillips - still a librarian after all - waited until he was momentarily distracted staring at that little screen before deftly snatching it out of his hand, drawing a yawp of surprise from Samuel. "H-hey!"
 
"Don't you know having these stupid things turned on is strictly against library rules? When schoolkids bring them in, I confiscate them and keep them until closing time - forces them to read a book for once. In your case, I think it would teach you a lesson." she sniffed. "What is so important that you were-"
 
As she started reading the message, Samuel visibly gritted his teeth and cringed, and Ms. Phillips' grip tightened. Shoulders tense now, when Samuel tried another grab for the phone she gave him a very sharp elbow in the stomach and shoved him back forcefully. "WHAT?! You... you..."
 
"That's... a private conversation, you know..." Samuel slumped back against one of the bookshelves limply, voice coming out as a weak, puppy-like whine.
 
"And I quote... 'going for another 'booty call' to that Mrs. Robinson type to get the horniness out of my system so I can 'play it cool' on my date with Ginny tomorrow." Her breathing quickened and her teeth ground together. In truth, Morgan had already been planning on confronting Samuel about what exactly his intentions were and if he was really willing to be exclusive with her or just treating her as a toy, and to make him show her his recent messages to prove it. That's why she'd grabbed for his phone so quickly. What she'd found was more damning than she could've thought. "This is a message to one of your fratty little rich-boy douche friends, is it? Oh! OH! And here's another message from just today, this one sent by you. 'Hi Mrs. Edmonds, you still available for another private lesson at the pool this weekend'? With a peach emoji." She closed her eyes and let out a long, furious sigh mostly through her nose. "Why the fuck am I surprised..."
 
"Come on, that's just guy talk..." Samuel stammered desperately. "Let me help you forget about it-" he reached forward to cup one of Ms. Phillips' weighty double-d breasts in his hand, giving the pliant flesh a hearty squeeze - but she kneed him hard in the gut and slapped his hand away.
 
"You piece of shit! You think you can still feel me up when you've been caught red handed like that?" Still holding his phone up and away from him, she started dialing rapidly with one thumb. "You... you officially just tried to ASSAULT me. I'm calling the police. See if your fancy lawyers can... can bail you out of jail for the night! How's that for something 'Mrs. Robinson' would do?!" she cried, her voice gradually raising to an emotion-filled shout as tears of anger welled up in the corner of her eyes.
 
"No, no!" Samuel said in alarm, raising his voice. He was certainly stronger than her but hesitated to just tackle her to the ground as she turned away - and soon regretted it as Ms. Phillips began trotting energetically away from him, hunched over the phone and dialing as she walked. She hesitated a bit in actually sending it through, wanting to give him a chance to provide some satisfactory explanation or at least to sweat a bit.
 
But he just hustled after her, looming threateningly close. In her haste, since he was blocking her way back to the main area of this floor, Morgan pushed open one of the glass doors leading out to the balcony, usually left unlocked on nice days like this. A chilly wind whipped past her and the silence of the library was replaced by the distant roar of traffic.
 
Melodramatically, Morgan held up Samuel's purloined phone and hovered her thumb over the send button with '911' clearly on the screen. Having followed the rules her entire life she hesitated to actually send it through... wasn't that filing a false police report? Samuel, for his part, slipped through the door and followed her, but no sooner had he stepped onto the balcony than his jaw dropped and his eyes widened in horror. Morgan found that expression quite gratifying.
 
"You shameful bastard... it'd be no better than you deserved. But perhaps instead I should call your... uh.... what...?" Morgan's indignant imprecations trailed off as she noticed that he wasn't staring in horror at the phone screen or her face, but at something behind her, at a high angle. Perplexed, the librarian cleared her throat awkwardly, frowned, and looked back over her shoulder.
 
She wasn't sure what she expected to see there... Someone gawking at them? A fire in the skyscraper across the street? But there was nothing out of the ordinary there, just the same downtown skyline as always, darkened windows of the other buildings gleaming in the moonlit night.
 
But when she turned back to Samuel, Morgan saw what exactly the problem was... though it was something she couldn't hope to understand. Samuel was... noisily ripping his shirt off with both hands? But more than that, his chest was sprouding dark, wiry hair all over it and his nose was jutting forward unnaturally, lengthening into an animal muzzle while his ears grew long, pointed, and furry. His fingers were tipped with blunt claws now, and his feet had grown so large that his shoes burst open around them like overcooked hot dogs. It looked like the process was a bit painful for Samuel, as he was shivering and quaking, dropping to his knees. After less than a dozen seconds the process was complete and his head was that of a wolf rather than a young man, with fierce yellow eyes that gleamed in the faint light. The beast threw back his head and howled.
 
Morgan was a reader of literature, a identifying trait she clung to even at the risk of being accused of snobbery, but even she had seen movies. The word 'werewolf' leaped to her mind and pounded in her ears as if someone had shouted it. Her adrenaline spiked and she knew on an instinctual level that this was no longer a lover's quarrel, but that she needed to get away before she stopped to marvel or take in the horror of this fantastical event. But... he was between her and the door leading back in from the balcony. Instinct took over and she kicked off her high heels in two swift steps, letting the phone drop from her trembling fingers as ran to the railing and bent over it, getting ready to begin climbing down...
 
Just as Morgan's heart was leaping into her mouth as the vertigo of staring at a 5-story drop kicked in, she felt two vice-like grips close around her pantyhose-clad ankles. She clung desperately to the stone railing as she felt herself being pulled away from the edge. Did he... was Samuel, even as a monster, trying to protect her from toppling over the edge, her mind considered in a moment of hope?
 
Her feet were forced together suddenly she felt a hot, slimy length of something organic run over the soles of her feet. It... tickled. And suddenly her feet and delicate thighs were being forced into something, a wet, slimy tube. That hot, sticky space pushed forward, slithering up over her legs to the knees as she stared out at the long drop to the street below. Two hands suddenly squeezed down around her butt, leaving deep dimples in the black skirt that clung so tightly to that attention-grabbing rump. She could feel, sense, the brutish lust in it that had made her so contemptuous of Samuel... was it really still him? What was he doing back there?
 
The next sound was her answer even before she looked: a resounding 'GULP'. A contraction of muscle seized her feet and legs and the hot wetness crept all the way up her thighs until a few sharp points begun digging into her ass. The hands crept lasciviously up her waist and squeezed her tummy like a lover gripping her. But that grip was used to pull her further in, and though she didn't release her hold on the railing, the hot engulfing space kept advancing, squeezing her generous backside over an array of tiny little points. Teeth... into a pair of jaws. Her feet pushed up against what seemed to be a dead end, only for a hole to open up in response to her toes bumping against it... the next tug brought them down into a much wetter space. Again it seemed like a dead end but when the next loud gulp pulled her butt into that slavering pair of jaws, the space now engulfing her feet and lower legs just stretched... and stretched.
 
When the pair of hands slid up to lovingly grip and squeeze her hefty breasts, Ms. Phillips gasped and shrieked, in indignation as well as in horror... and unfortunately, she reflexively brought her hands down to try and slap the greedy male paws away just as she had when Samuel tried it a few minutes before. That proved to be a terrible mistake.
 
Suddenly Morgan felt herself being jerked sharply upwards, her perspective raised up towards the sky. Before she could react, a long tongue curled around her elbows even as it slithered over her clothed breasts, the hands helping to squeeze them tight against her chest so that a lower jaw could work its way over them. She was so shocked that she couldn't even scream as loud as she knew she should - her next shriek was breathless and exhausted as she felt her butt sliding all the way down that slippery tube, her chest clearly soon to join her.
 
"NO!!!!" was all she could manage, though Samuel clearly wasn't listening. "GET OFF OF m-pfffttt!" her cry for help trailed off into a sputter as her arms were trapped against her chest by the throat, now finished with her hips and squeezing them down past that tight valve to the... lower space, got a grip on her breasts and shoulders. The lashing pink tongue, unnaturally long and motile even for a canine of such size, slid over her face, leaving smears of drool all over her glasses and covering her mouth and nose, as if savoring her. She could hear the beast around her grunt and whine with effort, clearly wrestling with the strain of stuffing all of her in like this.
 
But the widest parts were already in, and gravity was on Samuel's side now. The werewolf lunged upwards as Morgan's huge breasts made two big springy bulges in his throat and she sank into his maw up to her neck. The librarian got one last look at the urban skyline before seeing those terrible pearly white fangs closing in front of her eyes like prison bars with the pink flesh of his mouth filling her field of vision... and then everything was black. With the momentum of his last lunge she fell the last distance with considerable force, the greedy throat pulling her down so aggressively that her butt falling into the unbelievably tightly-stretched space that welcomed her made the fleshy chamber bounce with the force of her landing.
 
As the haze of transformation hunger gradually cleared from his senses, Samuel Lyons shook his head and sighed with satisfaction as he gave the last swallow, clearing a few stray strands of hair from his palate. "Guhh... uhh... uh oh." he said in a canine whine. "I feel... full... and I don't see Ms. Phillips... ma'am, are you, uh, here? Guhhhhh-" he felt something hard and unpleasant on his tongue and spat.
 
Looking down in his hand he saw a familiar pair of glasses, dripping with drool, in his hand. Glancing down sheepishly his eyes confirmed what he could already feel. Namely, the previously slender werewolf had an enormous, unnaturally bloated belly hanging down all the way to his knees. The curved hemispheres of Ms. Phillips glorious ass could be felt grinding unintentionally against his crotch, awakening the excitement that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. She was sitting in his stomach, facing outwards, her knees wide apart and jutting out sharply through the surface of his furry belly. Anyone looking at him would easily be able to deduce not only that he'd eaten an awful lot, but that there was the distintive shape of a human figure squeezed into an awkward sitting position in his cramped stomach. Not only that, but it was tight enough that Ms. Phillips' face was being pushed up against the front of said fleshy prison... he could even see a tiny bump where her nose was. And speaking of bumps, it was tight enough that some of the stomach flesh was squeezing tight around her chest... indeed, a sharp eye observing him would not only be able to tell he had a human inside of him, but a woman who'd been particularly well-endowed by mother nature.
 
"Well, darn." Samuel said with mild concern and embarrasment, even as Morgan Phillips got past the initial shock of being swallowed and began writhing in terror against the soft, stretchy, squishy flesh encroaching on her from every angle, wiggling her elbows and knees as she tried in vain to 'stand up'. "Why did you go and make me do that, ma'am? I'd better go back inside before anyone sees us doin' something so downright scandalous. I sure hope nobody heard you screaming and shouting like that." He bent down with considerable awkwardness, squeezing Morgan against his chest and thighs, to grab up his cell phone and her discarded high heels.
 
Samuel puffed out his cheeks and swallowed a huge mouthful of air, making sure his librarian-turned-lover-turned belly filler had plenty to breathe, though she had to turn her face to the side lest her nose and mouth be shoved up against the foul, slimy wrinkled surface of his stomach interior.
 
The werewolf boy cringed a bit as he heard Morgan let out an extended, ringing shriek, muffled by the flesh wrapped tightly around her body so that it came out mostly as an "MFFFFFFFFF!". She was really kicking and struggling in there now, causing his belly to sway energetically from side to side even though he was standing still once he'd gotten in from the balcony. "Damn, damn, damn..." Samuel muttered, slowly shaking his lupine head and letting the tail jutting out from under the shredded remnants of his shirt droop dejectedly. "I promised my pop I wouldn't let this happen again... Ma'am, don't take this the wrong way, but you're puttin' me in a real difficult situation here. It was a big complicated production last time when my history teacher back at the academy with her sexy miniskirt came by my dorm room the wrong night of the month to drop off my homework... I didn't have much control at the time, so, well, you know... she was 'history' herself after that. Dad never got tired of giving me an earful about how much trouble it was to make it look like she'd suddenly moved to get a job in another country, when the truth was that her new job was being fertilizer for the school garden..."
 
"HRMRRRMMFFFFFPFFFHHHHHHHHHH!!!" There was a moment of relative calm and still as Morgan parsed the word 'fertilizer' and what Samuel meant dawned on her horrifyingly, which lead her to let out a muffled cry so loud it made Samuel cringe. Unfortunately for the both of them, the growling voice Samuel was musing to himself in conducted very easily to the space inside his massively stretched stomach. As if to punctuate the werewolf Samuel's words, the space squeezing in around Ms. Phillips, forcing her elbows close to her chest and keeping her knees spread-eagled in an awkward sitting position, gurgled noisily around its prisoner. The buxom librarian had just about calmed herself enough to try and think of a way to escape when the blunt, casual viciousness of those words fell upon her and drove her into a paroxysm of struggling.
 
Samuel looked down guiltily as he watched the big jutting lumps of Morgan's knees, elbows and chest sliding and wiggling this way and that. The sight reminded him of the time he'd babysat his little sister and watched her chasing the family cat around under a blanket... funny that such an innocent sight could be evoked by something so horrific, at least from the position of the woman sitting in that stiflingly hot space, without Samuel informing her that her current situation had not only been another woman's doom already, but that she hadn't left through the same passage she went in.
 
"Oooff... please, quit kicking so much in there, Ms. Phillips!" Samuel leaned forward, letting his thrashing librarian-stuffed belly hang low towards the floor. All of her movement seemed to have provoked the stomach squeezing in on her to action, and it groaned again, even more loudly... this time, the noise was accompanied by juices splashing down on her from above and pooling around her backside and lower thighs. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have mentioned what happened to Mrs. Gellerman, like I said it was one of my first full moons and I couldn't control myself at the time. Did you have to overreact like that, ma'am? Now it's gotten you, and me, in a lot of trouble." He swallowed a gulp of air with a shake of his head.
 
"I suppose," Samuel said, wincing as his older lover-turned-meal continued to kick and made a couple of conspicuous handprints on his stretched belly, "I ought to get out of here before I consider anything else. Looked like you might've dialed that phone and I don't want anyone to find you, or me, here. Hmm... if I can just find the lightswitch for the main downstairs lobby..." He patted his stomach where Ms. Phillips was writhing in terror.
 
At last she managed to turn her face aside slightly although her breasts were forced into the fleshy walls that much harder. "S-SAMUEL...? That's still you?! L-let me out of here, spit me out!! If t-t-THAT happened to your teacher....! EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" she punctuated her desperate plea with a long high-pitched squeal that sounded more like the vocalization of a 15 year old schoolgirl than a 37 year old woman.
 
Samuel sighed. "Oh, believe me, I would if I thought I could, ma'am," as he began to walk, the massive bulge hanging out in front of him juddering from side to side. "But there's rules to follow... Not ever more than 1 pair of eyes in a single place, so nobody believes the lone kook. So if someone ELSE sees me while I'm heading out then, well, I'm sorry but I'd have to make sure you're in no... shape to talk to anyone. So really, you ought to be being as quiet as possible. Besides..." he reached down and gave Morgan's protruding chest a lustful squeeze in the palm of one of his hands, making her jerk and try (unsuccessfully) to squirm away, "this is a library, I shouldn't have to tell you you need to be quiet. I just wish I could tell my stomach not to be so noisy..." he mused.
 
For a few minutes Morgan was tossed around in the dark, slimy space. Once Samuel was committed to a loping path of forward movement the weight that the librarian was making inside the werewolf's stomach caused her to bounce up and down wildly with each long step. The motion of her butt repeatedly colliding against Samuel's lap as she sat with her legs spread was all too reminiscent of other motions she'd been engaged in with the young "man" just a week or so prior, a comparison that felt grotesque beyond words given the circumstances. He'd begged, wheedled, charmed and promised until he had gotten himself inside of her... and she'd liked it. Now she was inside him, no matter how much she wished otherwise... and she had been sure that there was nobody else on this floor before she'd settled in to meet him, there.
 
But the uncomfortable, dizzying motion as Morgan felt herself carried around was far from her only concern. In spite of Samuel lightheartedly scolding his own stomach it had continued growling and groaning ominously, the deep bass noises echoing in her ears, and the moment Morgan started to get used to slamming repeatedly against his thighs and all of the bouncing, she noticed that her ass wasn't just getting sore because of the impacts through that thin layer of muscle and fur... her backside, lower back, and all over her legs and thighs had just been tingling a little at first, but now that the stomach juices flooding her tight prison were starting to rise and soak through her clothes...
 
"EEEEEeeeeeeeee! It burns, my skin is burning!" she squealed, head tilted forward to keep the slimy stomach wall from clinging to her face, mashing her large breasts up against the bottom of her chin when she tucked her elbows in fearfully.
 
Samuel's only response was to sigh wistfully and reach down to give her chest a pat with a squish, feeling the lovely give of her big breasts against his palm, then swallow another big bubble of air. "Oohhhhh, dang, this is just like last time. She just wouldn't stop yelling, as if I didn't feel bad enough about it already."
 
Then things managed to get worse - as he began quickly running down the stairs, just like he would in human form coming down at the end of a school day, the up-and-down motion became so violent that Morgan flopped upside down, ending up with her ass up in the air and making the sharpest part of the bulge along with her knees, while her upper back and neck rested against the stretchy bottom of the stomach... she could feel his rigid cock poking her right between the shoulderblades, but that humiliating sensation was a distant secondary concern compared to the burning, caustic liquid seeping through it. At this rate, in this posture, it would cover up her nose and mouth within minutes, but no matter how she squirmed and struggled against the slippery, rubbery walls, she couldn't exercise any control over her position.
 
For his part, every time Samuel looked down at the wiggling bulge stretching out his midsection and saw her handprints straining against the surface of the sides, he winced a little but his ears also grew hot and the hardness she kept bumping up against didn't seem to be going away.
 
After a minute of that torture, Ms. Phillips felt the werewolf carrying her around come to a halt.
 
"Here we go, the little utility control room in the second floor. I wouldn't have known about it if we hadn't taken the opportunity to use it as our little love nest." For emphasis, Samuel reached down again and caressed both sides of her shapely ass with his furry, clawed fingers. "A little dark and dusty but I didn't mind, and when I had you bent over that control panel from behind, I didn't either. Oooh, you're really, um, distracting me, grinding up against me like that, ma'am... I can feel your boobs pushing right into my body. Why couldn't you have let me play around with you a little first, before you went overreacting over a silly little phone message? If I didn't have to worry about explaining things to the others like me I'd be of a mind to just go ahead and digest you. But then again I'd like to get one more chance to roleplay a scene from a bodice-ripper with you, first."
 
As he leaned forward Morgan felt the hard surface of the desk against her backside. That gave her enough leverage to wriggle away ever so slightly from the rising pool of digestive acid, getting it away from her nose and mouth and ending up rolled onto her side with her legs tucked up behind her. Alas, that meant she kept exposing fresh stretches of her pale, delicate skin to the rising sea of acid. The pain was getting worse and worse and the air was growing short, but exhaustion was starting to set in and she had stopped kicking and punching as wildly as she had when he'd first mentioned that female teacher's fate.
 
"And there we go. All the lights on the bottom floor turned out. I'll still have to be careful thanks to thsoe cell-phone lights... I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to have to run pretty quickly when I get down there, and I might have to flop down on top of you a few times to avoid being seen. Like I said, if you stay nice and quiet and nobody sees me or this belly, you might just come out of this messy situation smelling like a rose... well, compared to Ms. Gellerman, anyways."
 
Even if Samuel had been trying to be reassuring (a questionable proposition), reminding Ms. Phillips yet again of what might become of her if she didn't secure release from her current confinement soon just drew another "MMMMMMMPH!", the sound that an echoing feminine scream made in a very tight space with sound dampening qualities, along with a couple of sharp kicks.
 
Down in the bottom floor of the library a smattering of students and idle citizens had abandoned all of the library rules Ms. Phillips had been so diligent about enforcing as soon as the lights were out. Voices were raised in a chorus of indignant questions and demands for the lights to be turned back on. Even in her muffled prison, quickly filling up with what she now realized were digestive acids, the librarian began shouting as loudly as she could, given the stingy air supply which Samuel only intermittently refreshed for her.
 
If the visitors had been calm and quiet, then the urgent "HLLMMMPHHH!" emanating from Samuel's stretched belly might have reached someone who'd be in a position to investigate - faced with so many witnesses the game would be up and Samuel would have no choice but to flee, perhaps even needing to hack her back up and spit her out so as to not be burdened by her curves jiggling around inside his bloated midsection. And if they had followed rules about leaving their cellphones turned off, some of them might have the precious seconds to let their eyes adjust to the darkness and see the loping, unnaturally bloated canine humanoid stalking around the edges of the darkened lobby. But it wasn't to be, as every pair of eyes was almost immediately glued to a glowing screen, either to amuse themselves or to start dialing the phone at the front desk to complain about the lights. Although if Morgan herself hadn't insisted on never owning a cell phone of her own, she might have had some recourse other than blindly groping against the tight boundaries of her organic cell and wriggling from one side to the other, accomplishing nothing but dragging the most enticing elements of her figure against the sensitive interior of her former lover's stomach.
 
Samuel 'protectively' wrapped his arms around the woman kicking and screaming up a storm in his overly-stretched midsection, squeezing her tight against him so that she didnt throw off his balance enough to tip him over. Of course, he could see perfectly well. In fact as he gave Ms. Phillips' ass another loving grope with one hand, he casually reached over to one of the abandoned tables and grabbed a copy of a children's book that made him struggle not to laugh under the circumstances; none other than Red Riding Hood.
 
Morgan kicked as if her life depended on it (as it surely did) when she felt Samuel clutching her tightly... unfortunately, it seemed that the more she fought, the more she provoked his stomach to ever more intense activity. What had first been a mild burning was now a severe one, and now the space was almost half-filled with the sizzling liquid. She'd be a sorry sight if anyone had been in a position to look at her - hair wild and matted, eyes staring wide with a hunted look, foul liquid soaking her white silk shirt and making it cling tightly to her bosom even as it reddened and burned her skin, spending most of her time on her side or upside down in the most demeaning positions possible.
 
By coincidence one of her wild kicks made Samuel stagger to one side and knock over a newspaper stand - after which he immediately threw himself flat, right on top of Morgan. The new pressure was very uncomfortable and unwelcome for her. Fortunately, it seemed amid the general chaos, Samuel's misstep was hardly noticed.
 
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" a particulary desperate, ragged shriek ripped its way from Morgan's lips as she felt his arms caress her again to lift her up from the floor. "SOMEONE PLEASE HELP, I'M RUNNING OUT OF..."!
 
Alas, Samuel gripped a bit tighter than he'd intended and a deep, reverberating belch echoed through the public space. A few of the teenagers who'd been grousing about the darkness started laughing and demanding to know who'd done that, unaware that it signified the impending doom of the sexy librarian who'd been no small part of the reason they still bothered to hang out here.
 
The stomach clung so tightly to Morgan's form now that it was touching both her inner and outer thighs as she lay on her side in an undignified, spread-eagled position. She was completely immersed in an acid bath for the 10 seconds it took for Samuel to get around to swallowing another gulp of air.
 
In sharp contrast to Morgan's desperate situation Samuel, seeing he hadn't been noticed, reverted to a cocky strut as he slipped out through the side entrance, keeping to the shadows and avoiding walking close to the street. He was even wagging his furry tail as he felt Ms. Phillips struggles grow more desperate. "Alright, well, we're out in the back alley now ma'am. Wish I'd brought my car, but it looks like I'll be stuck here for a while. I hope my stomach wasn't too harsh on you, but I have to admit I really liked the feeling of the internal massage you gave me there. In fact, you got me really horny. I don't suppose, before I go, you'd let me...? Mmm, maybe not, might have to call an ambulance, ahh, but then my number would show up in the system..."
 
"GAHHHHHH! ANYTHING, I'LL DO ANYTHING, JUST LET ME OUT!" Morgan's voice was hoarse and shrill by this point, sharp with desperation. She actually stopped kicking for a moment, knowing that no one else could help her now and lasting until Samuel spat her out was her only hope. "Don't..." even through all the pain, a chill ran down her spine as she forced herself to speak the words, "d-d-d-digest me!!!"
 
Samuel sighed wistfully. He was beginning to unhinge his jaws again with a creak when a chirping cell phone sounded in the pocket of the shredded shorts that clung to his thighs. Choosing to edify his curiosity while delaying releasing Ms. Phillips from her mortal peril, he looked down with it and made a funny, excited growl/yelp of anticipation.
 
"Well well well! How about that? Ms. Washington - she's that veeeery 'gifted' swimming instructor - actually replied to my message and agreed to my, hrrrm, rather unorthodox request of a private evening class after all. I figured if I offered as much as she'd normally make from an entire class she might think about it." As if the frantic struggles of his current paramour to survive were a distant afterthought, Samuel's canine lip curled into a toothy smile and he leaned back. "Those thighs... I can't wait to see what she can do with those..."
 
Just as she was registering her impatience and disapproval with a kick, the next thing Samuel said hit the already HIGHLY distressed librarian Ms. Phillips like a brick:
 
"I guess that means I don't really need you any more, ma'am. Honestly, I figure I wouldn't be getting any more 'release' from you anyway so I'll have to get it from someone else. All for the good cause of helping me act like a gentleman around a very sweet girl from a good family, o'course..."
 
"N-no!!! You said you'd, *cough* let me...!" Morgan was in such shock that her exhausted arms could barely manage a punch in response.
 
"Well," Samuel said, the current configuration of his mouth altering his usual smug, unhurried, conversational mode of speech only slightly, "I was just lookin' at this little fairy tale book... a little in-joke or maybe a warning, by or about us werewolves, I think. And the poor wolf gets shot and chopped up in the end! If I let you out here or call you some help I'd just be setting myself up for the same." he sighed and groped Morgan again as she squirmed in horror, adopting a self-pitying tone as if he were the victim. "It's sad to think I'll never be able to have another tumble in the book stacks with you but, hey, there's plenty of fish in the sea. Finding a way to spit you out and get out of here would be awfully tricky, so I think I'll have to ask you to, heh heh, 'show yourself out through the back'."
 
Before she could respond Samuel allowed himself another echoing, self-indulgent belch, clearing the last of the air and immersing Ms. Phillips in stomach juices completely once again, causing her to launch her most violent round of kicking and struggling against the elastic walls closing in from every side around her yet. The bumps of knees and elbows wriggled around wildly under the surface of his furry pelt and her ass, up in the air, pumped enticingly with each desperate kicking motion.
 
"I guess you were right about how spoiled I am, huh?" he said teasingly as he condescendingly wrapped his palms around her kicking thighs. "But you have to be reasonable. I mean, it's already going to be troublesome enough to find a space to lay down and let my stomach take care of you. I think this is what they call a 'messy breakup'? Well... that's how it turned out. I probably would've ended up 'dumping' you eventually one way or the other, Morgan, but if you'd just been a little more reasonable it wouldn't have been so literal. Oooh, speaking of which, I'd better look around now and make sure there's a good place to take a shit near where I settle in for my nap... with these curves," he lifted up the underside of the struggling bulge full of librarian to get one last good grope of her breasts, hefting her up then dropping her and letting her bounce as she kicked and wriggled fruitlessly, "...I can tell you'll make for quite a load to deal with."
 
"MMMNNNNNNNNGGGGGGHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!" Even with the tightening walls forcing her face against the underside of his stomach, insultingly close to his groin, that must have been Ms. Phillips' loudest response yet, impressive considering how little air she had to work with now. A scant few minutes ago she had been percolating in a heady mix of lusty excitement (at the prospect of sneaking in a round of illicit lovemaking with an attractive boy half her age) and indignation (at the thought that he didn't value any parts of her except her enormous breasts and the place between her legs).
Now, in less time than it took for her to brew a pot of coffee in the morning, she had gone from the seeming problem of having a diffident, spoiled boyfriend too young for her to enduring the horrific claustrophobia, the depraved degredation of cruel hands slithering all over her while she was struggling in the grip of his stomach, the sensations of starting to be digested alive which had escalated from irritation to burning, and worst of all, hearing him callously musing about disposing of the massive quantity of waste she would soon become... all while planning how he was going to go about seeking his pleasure with the next girls and women he'd set his sights on, who would probably meet the same fate as Morgan had when he tired of them. She was as helpless to save or warn them as she was to save herself. None of her friends would ever know what happened to her, and even her own parents were too distant and self-absorbed to look very much into her disappearance. Her last strikes against the terribly strong elastic walls holding her were directed as much against fate and the society that allowed monsters like him to walk freely, barely even bothering to remain out of sight, knowing that no-one cared enough to really look for what were merely figures of fun and fantasy to populate horror movies.
 
Uncaring about the violent, desperate motions making his giant gut sway from side to side, Samuel casually walked over to a shadowy niche in between a couple of dumpsters (the kind for recycling paper and cardboard, fortunately for his keen canine sense of smell) and got down to his knees, laying the writhing, kicking bundle of woman trapped in his tightening stomach down in front of him and settling atop her as if she were a particularly uncooperative beanbag. With all of the air gone and no more being given to her, Morgan's cries quickly dwindled. She kept kicking and elbowing until the end - the cessation of motion in Samuel's stomach came suddenly. There was only the sounds of groaning, churning digestion after that.
 
The first time it had happened Samuel had been remorseful and intentionally blocked out of his mind what was happening to curvy Ms. Gellerman last year as she'd thrashed around and squealed about the acid engulfing her and gone to sleep to avoid thinking about the gory happenings within as his stomach had shrunk down. The eventual snaps and crunches of her bones had made him shudder and whine, wishing he could cover his ears to block out the sound. But now, Samuel found it darkly amusing to visualize and feel the sexy figure he'd considered himself so lucky to get to enjoy softening and turning into mush. His senses were keener in his werewolf form by far - if only he could find a woman who'd be willing to couple with him while wearing his fur, or if only it weren't taboo to have sex with another fully-expressed werewolf. Perhaps he could manage it after all... and if his next paramour didn't feel like keeping his secret after getting screwed by him while he was wearing his fur, he could arrange for HER to 'wear' his fur in the same fashion that his first two prey items had.
 
While Samuel thought on future pleasures he rested quietly, curled up around his huge stomach and feeling it soften as Ms. Phillips' body melted down and the acids did their deadly work. A half hour more is all it took for forceful contractions to break her down into an almost undifferentiated slurry. Even the digestive system of werewolves seemed to have been designed for secrecy and their bowels didn't accept any of what the stomach held until it was very thoroughly rendered. The only thing that remained in his stomach an hour later was a lump of acid-soaked clothing as liquefied librarian passed through the arrogant lycanthropic youth. The warm, satisfying high that suffused their body after fully digesting such a meal was all he needed to feel more comfortable in the dingy little patch of concrete than he ever could in his lavishly appointed bedroom back home.
 
Although he knew Ms. Phillips was well beyond the point of being able to hear him, when Samuel felt the pressure moving low into his abdomen as she finished her tour of his intestines, he couldn't help but continue to make snide comments: "Well, I have to admit that your sexy ass was a lot faster and easier to get through than that Dostoyevsky and Melville that you'd assigned me the last few times I came up here for a quick fuck, ma'am. For once, I don't think I'll be needing to pay a late fee, I'm just about ready to return the sexy librarian I borrowed for the night."
 
It was about 2 AM by now, but this was the downtown of a city so Samuel knew he still needed to be extremely careful about getting out of here and how to grant Ms. Phillips her promised release. As he stood up, the furry stomach that had hung down to his knees when the woman was still struggling inside it was reduced to the size of a beachball, but of course, a werewolf could never afford to be seen all the same. And with all of this concrete around, there wasn't a lot of natural soil... any spot in the little shallow gardens or lengths of grass turf around the library which he dug up would be incredibly conspicuous.
 
In his altered, short-sighted canine state of mind, Samuel soon found a solution that seemed perfect - the gardening staff had a small storeroom accessible by a single door, fortuitously situated right in the rear lot where Samuel had flopped down to sleep his older lover off. With his inhuman strength he forced the door with its shoddy lock accidentally while trying it, and pulled out a burlap bag of manure fertilizer that had been stored within. "Seems only right that I should make sure she benefits the library, it is a cherished public institution, after all." he chuckled as he emptied the bag onto one of the flower beds.
 
Squatting down and lifting his tail, Samuel held the emptied burlap bag open underneath his furry ass. The wave of flatulence that preceded her exit was so loud that Samuel considered himself fortunate no one would still be awake by now in this area. With a shudder of delight, the building pressure in his abdomen reached a peak and he tensed, feeling something thick spreading his anus upon. Morgan Phillips' post-digestion form emerged in thick brown coils - the first one hit the bottom of the burlap sack with a soft thump while the rest of it was still being squeezed out. Samuel panted with debauched pleasure as he felt wave after wave of relief, the pressure in his bowels releasing a little bit at a time as the shit Ms. Phillips had made was squeezed out.
 
By the time he was finished, the filthy burlap bag was overstuffed with waste, fuller and much heavier than it had been with the dried material he'd left in it before. Realizing he hadn't brought anything to clean himself, he tore a few pages out of that 'Big Bad Wolf' book he'd grabbed on a whim, using them as impromptu toilet paper to wipe and dropping them on top of the waste heaped up in the bag.
 
Not bothering to visually inspect the waste (which would've revealed it was full of splintered yellow bone pieces) Samuel simply cinched the burlap bag closed and replaced it in the utility shed, putting the other fertilizer bags on top of his own premium brand to make it seem less conspicuous. Not wanting to risk going onto the city streets, he resigned himself to getting a scolding from his parents when he showed up the following morning... his clothes were badly ripped but just barely intact enough to wear once he was exposed to sunlight and reverted to his human disguise. He'd look like just another urban vagrant as he took a long 2 or 3 hour hike back to his family's small mansion in the suburbs.
 
Surely this was a good enough way to cover things up - Ms. Phillips wasn't going to be telling anyone what she'd seen now, and surely drug addicts broke into poorly secured spaces like that storage room all the time, anyway. Indeed, he got a wicked thrill at the thought that he might see news reports about Ms. Phillips mysterious disappearance on the local news in a day or two. He knew that his father had been responsible for one or two of those missing persons reports in his time, so surely he couldn't object too much, but most likely, the patriarch of his household would be too preoccupied with his own affairs to even notice this sordid incident.
 
Before he hunkered down to await the morning, Samuel grabbed up a stray plastic bag and hunched forward over it. He gave a thump to his furry stomach, which now showed almost no sign of having accomodated an entire woman just a few hours ago except for in inch of new fat that was almost completely hidden under the fur... he'd always had a quick metabolism.
 
With a cough he felt something slimy coming up his gullet. With a casual cough and a few uncomfortable hacks, Samuel heaved up Ms. Phillips now-empty and acid-bleached clothes in a wet, messy ball, the silk shirt that had framed her wonderful bosom so tightly, a lacy bra her nylon pantyhose, that revealing black miniskirt.... Samuel chuckled as he rifled through Ms. Phillips clothing, now nothing but trash to be disposed of like a candy wrapper, the sexy librarian having exchanged them for a burlap manure bag as her new 'outfit'. Out of the messy bundle of soaked cloth he pulled a pair of red silken panties, holding them up to admire them with a chuckle as he tied up the plastic bag, ready to be tossed into a public trashcan a block or two down on the way back home. "Awww, how romantic, it's the same underwear she was wearing the first time I got into it... I guess she remembered me saying how much I liked them. You were a great fuck and a very satisfying meal, ma'am... I think I'll keep these, and your glasses, to remember you by." he said with a satisfied chuckle, tucking them into the pocket of his torn shorts...
 
----------------------
 
A few days later in the next city over, a gorgeous woman in her 40s was engaging in that great American pastime - ignoring her office responsibilities in favor of browsing social media. Rita was her name, and of course, like so many, she considered what she was doing not to be goldbricking, but rather another, equally important responsibility she needed to keep up with.
 
Her husband, Martin, was a successful businessman, far more so than she was, and he'd scarcely aged since she met him over a decade ago. While Rita was certainly quite attractive by most men's standards she was a petite beauty, thin and rather short, and year after year she noticed the seemingly ever-growing curves that younger women seemed to sport as if to taunt her... not only that but she noticed that her husband noticed those things too, particularly when he didn't think she was looking.
 
Even though she scolded herself for being petty and insecure about it on a nearly daily basis, the fear that she was going to lose her man and everything that went with him never quite left Rita... ever since she'd discovered she was totally unable to have children (due to a congenital condition) she had a lingering fear that Martin was just waiting for the perfect morsel to come along at which point she'd be discarded and left by the wayside, even though Martin had claimed time and time again that he was glad to not have to worry about dealing with kids. Sometimes she even found herself envying Martin's trashy, low-class, perpetually unemployed failure of a sister whose only occupation was leeching off of her more diligent brother to support herself and her fatherless son - blood was thicker than water, and surely she could count on Martin's continued support no matter how little she deserved it.
 
Indeed, in among all this, the knowledge that her husband was actually a werewolf who turned into a dangerous beast on nights of the full moon was a distantly secondary concern. After all, they'd managed that danger well for over a decade now. Indeed, the fact that she knew such a sensitive secret should have made Rita feel much more secure about the imagined possibility of Martin 'trading her in for a newer model'. Should have... but didn't.
 
In particular Rita made a habit of stalking the online profile of her husband's personal secretary, Rebecca Bonham. This woman seemed to have a new boyfriend every month, and Martin obliged her with an absurd amount of vacation time each year (two months!! who got two months of annual vacation, in this day and age, on top of very, very generous pay for a mere secretary!). Looking at the pictures Ms. Bonham represented herself with, it seemed to Rita that she was best conceptualized as a giant pair of F-cup tits with a woman attached rather than the other way around - every outfit Rebecca chose seemed carefully designed to give that impression.
 
Even as Rita scrolled through picture after picture of Rebecca flaunting herself in expensive outfits, scanning through posts looking for any hint of a new man who wasn't willing to name himself and post in her profile directly, she saw the notification of an update... and without thinking she clicked on it.
 
It was fortunate that Rita had her own office or surely someone would have heard the horrified gasp as she watched the video that had just been posted with no comments or context attached. It was a wobbly, shaking cell phone video... showing an office that looked somewhat familiar, showing the wallpaper and carpet pattern of Martin's office building. The action in it was a male werewolf, jaws obscenely stretched beyond what seemed possible, with a shapely, wriggling female backside and kicking pair of stockinged thighs protruding from his mouth. Bit by bit, the unidentified woman was losing her struggle against the maw engulfing her, and her squirming miniskirt-covered butt was hefted higher and higher into the air by the wolf-man's hands grasping her curvaceous hips. Even with the poor audio, the doomed woman's cries for help could be heard, echoing, muffled from within the wolf's bloating midsection. Eventually there was a long slide and a resounding gulp, and the last of the stockinged feet slid down the gullet to form a huge, writhing bulge under the pelt of the werewolf's midsection.
 
Rita had seen Martin in his werewolf form before - from a safe distance, of course, to show how much he trusted her. This wasn't him; the coloration was different and this one was thinner and less muscular. But the fact remained this was clearly taking place in Martin's offices. Soon the video was cut short without further explanation as the bloated werewolf patted his struggling belly.
 
She'd never considered that werewolves... ate people, certainly not like that - she assumed it would have been a bloody, messy affair. She sat in a state of shock, trying to process what this meant. It stood to reason that her husband wasn't the only werewolf in the world... but why had another one of them been in HIS office? Was that all a misunderstanding or a mistake? The woman who'd slid down that throat was clearly still alive, but... was she going to remain that way, if what she'd watched had just really happened? Was THAT why Martin was so careful about never letting her into the room after he'd just transformed?
 
Rita stared at her phone for a good half an hour... after she should have been leaving for the night (she was already staying far later than she had to). Martin sent his text message to her as regular as clockwork, telling her he'd be getting home right at the normal time for a late working evening, with no indication anything was amiss. Rita felt like her grip around the phone was numb and couldn't fathom how to possibly begin to address this in any kind of question to Martin. She just stared.
 
Robotically, she forced herself to go to her car and begin the trip home. Before she arrived another message from Martin - he was 'going to take a nap in the back', a usual pastime of his on full moon nights. Part of her wanted to run. But part of her was terribly curious. So, when she finally got back she pulled into the driveway with the lights off and snuck inside as quietly as possible. Creeping through the darkened house she found an upstairs window that she could peep into the backyard through at an angle.
 
Sure enough in the dim moonlight she could perceive a furry shape sitting in the hammock. Martin was right where he was supposed to be, where he said he'd be. But she stared and stared. What did this mean? Was this some kind of a... crime that she needed to inform her werewolf husband about? Or was that dangerous? Would he take that as an insult...? Or a threat? Who had been that woman who was sliding into the werewolf? With a shudder she realized that, if it was as it appeared, the owner of that lively wriggling mini-skirted butt and kicking thighs was surely dead by now unless the creature had choosed to heave her up - and what had happened next, she didn't want to contemplate.
 
Out in the yard, unaware of her scrutiny, Martin got out of his hammock... but rather than heading into the house, he went the opposite direction, out towards the stretch of undeveloped forest behind their home. Not knowing what else to do, Rita counted the time he was away. 34 minutes passed before Martin reappeared from the same direction, heading towards the back door. Heart pounding, Rita hurriedly kicked off her shoes and scrambled to the bedroom, throwing herself into the bed and pretending to be asleep... but Martin didn't come up, usually preferring to sleep in his 'secure room' while he was transformed, as he usually did. No matter how she tried to force herself, Rita couldn't manage to sleep a wink and was exhausted by the time the sun came up.
 
In the bleary hours of the morning as she forced herself onto the commute, Rita, acting as if in a fugue, set her phone to private mode and went back onto that social network site, going to Rebecca's page again... but she was met by only an error message. It seemed that overnight, Rebecca Bonham's entire account had been deleted. Indeed, when she went to a few other pages of Ms. Bonham's acquaintances she noticed a few messages expressing confusion about what had become of her.
 
Putting two and two together, Rebecca methodically scrolled through every female employee of Martin's that she knew of. Most of them showed no change or activity since the last night... but one threadbare, seldom-updated page belonging to Martin's head accountant, another piece of eye-candy that Rita had long suspected Martin might have designs on, was similarly vanished from the face of the internet.
 
Rita felt sick, lost and alone. Who could she possibly contact about this? Who would believe her? Who would know what she was supposed to do, if they did? She suddenly realized how little she knew about this... 'man', if he could be called that, who she'd spent the last decade and change of her life with. A voice deep in her said that she should just disregard it, that nothing good could come of following this up, that it would... work itself out or it wouldn't and she should put it out of her mind. But how could she ever be alone with Martin again? Now that she knew a werewolf could swallow a human whole and alive, tracelessly, without a drop of blood... had... had he ever...?
 
----------------------
 
Clara's mind was made up. When Alain got home the brat would no doubt find himself delirious with excitement that she wasn't around in the evenings to enforce his grounding after it had only been in effect for a week. There was a camera on the front door and the garage but so long as he didn't leave, he could do as he pleased in the house and she'd have no way of knowing. It rankled her, that he was going to get to enjoy playing around precisely because she was going to such great lengths to shield him from the consequences of his actions...
 
And there surely would be consequences. Now that he had tasted the pleasure of feeling a live meal massaging his belly from the inside, felt the rush of pleasure that lingered for days after digesting them fully, Clara knew she'd have to catch him in the act at least once more before she could convince him he couldn't ever get away with it and force Alain to keep a lid on his unholy desires. Indeed, her brother Martin had needed to threaten her quite harshly to 'help' Clara kick her habit of picking up men in bars and 'dumping' them in portable toilets when she was done with them - it had meant the doom of no less than a dozen guys before she'd finally broken herself of that urge... for a few years now, at least. There was no way around it - Alain was going to be responsible for more women 'disappearing' before she could get him under control.
 
But thanks to her own antics there was already rumor of harsh reprisals for those who broke the laws against hunting humans during the latest clandestine meeting of the region's werewolves... indeed, many of them had occurred even after that one fateful Halloween night six years ago, after which representatives of werewolves from every neighboring city had cornered her, Martin, and the four others who shared the city with them and told them that if word got out about any more 'mass disappearances', then the next ones to 'disappear' were going to be them, including Clara's young son. It seemed that the other werewolves had not done enough to show their contrition - three of them had 'left' the city after that, and Clara suspected they had not merely fled to another country but been dealt with much more permanently, with only the adolescent girl among them being spared. She'd never told Alain all of that, although now she wished she had... but then, the urge after transforming was so strong, that just meant that he might've been that much more careful about hiding it (and the danger they were in) from her.
 
And, hypocrisy of hypocrisies, one of those neighboring gangs of lycanthropes had clearly continued to go about the same dirty business even after delivering such dire threats... The ones in the next city over. Their city was now acknowledged widely to have one or several serial killers operating in its environs. Just because they picked off their prey one at a time instead of feasting on an entire party at once apparently meant they thought they didn't merit censure. Surely it was politics more than anything.
 
Well, she was going to change things now. The safest thing for herself, her brother and her son was to make sure that the blame for the disappearance of Martin's silicone-enhanced employee was to pin it on their disgraceful neighbors and expose their corruption in the process. And thanks to reading them when she'd last visited their territory a year ago, she knew exactly who to target - a brat so spoiled, reckless and indulgent that it made Alain look diligent and restrained to the point of being angelic in comparison.
 
Sure enough not a few days ago there had been a 'disappearance' in the news of a librarian working at the institution closest to this 'Samuel' kid's university and Clara felt it was obvious to the point of being elementary that he was responsible... and that he was too young to have been present for the tense meeting and harsh ultimatum that had been delivered in the aftermath of the costume party lock-in incident. All she had to do was goad him a little bit, frame it as a friendly game, set the wicked boy off on a spree while ensuring she had plenty of evidence in hand... and she could use this Samuel as a harsh example for her own unruly pup. Preferably by her own hand... and tongue, Clara thought with a lick of her lips as she drove her beaten up old sedan to the neighboring city, rehearsing what she was going to tell him and practicing her most cheerful, solicitous smile...