• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • NonHuman
  • /
  • Indian Muslim Werewolf Princess

Indian Muslim Werewolf Princess

Apparently, as an Indian Muslim gal living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, I'm supposed to be quiet, soft and sweet. I guess whoever believes in those myths about women from the Republic of India never met me. My name is Nadira Duwesh, and I was born in Uttar Pradesh, Northern India, and raised in Canada's Capital region. I'm five-foot-seven, one hundred and twenty six pounds soaking wet, with brown eyes, dark bronze skin and long, curly black hair. I look harmless and innocent, and I can probably kick your ass. One of the perks of being more than human.

Six months ago, my parents Ali and Noor Duwesh sat me down in the living room of our Barrhaven townhouse and dropped a bomb on me. Apparently, I'm a Werewolf. And here I thought those nighttime blackouts I've been having at least once a month for the past year were purely accidental. Now I know better. Well, I guess sometimes the family's secrets are so terrifying that parents feel that they must lie to you for your own good. I am not making excuses for my parents, but I kind of understand why they did what they did.

Honestly, I've got enough shit to deal with and totally didn't need this. I'm working my butt off at my security guard job while trying to stay on top of my civil engineering classes at Carleton University. Life definitely goes on. Got to keep grinding, you know? Keep it moving. So what if once a month I transform into an otherworldly, bipedal wolf-like beast with a furry body, yellow eyes, claws and fangs? Just something else I've got to deal with.

It's funny the things I notice now that I know what I am. In the movies, it's the light of the full moon that transforms ordinary men and women into Werewolves. In real life, that's simply not true. I am a Werewolf because it's in my family genes. Creatures like me have existed for thousands of years. We're in every country, every culture. Does that frighten you? It really shouldn't. We are your friends and neighbors. Deal with it.

Before we go any further, here are some basic facts, ladies and gentlemen. At least one percent of the human population carries Werewolf genes inside themselves. Of that one percent, most of them are unaware of it and live their entire lives without knowing. The inner Wolf has to be awakened, usually through trauma. It's what separates me from you, I guess. Most of the Werewolves out there are Latent, blissfully aware of their true nature. Me? I'm Active. And loving it.

As I sat in class inside the Minto Center, I found myself looking at my classmates. It's amazing the things I can tell about people now that I've been Activated. For example, I can smell that Ronda Roswell, a blonde-haired chick who loves wearing short black skirts, is a total lesbian. I can smell the scent of her "good friend" Holly Holbrook on her. Those two are inseparable, and lots of guys in my class like to ogle them, but I pity those fools since these broads are a lost cause. A Werewolf's nose knows, ladies and gentlemen.

There's this guy named Watson Chang in class, and he's always looking at me and smiling, but I know what he feels for me isn't attraction but pure dread. Chang is a smarty pants and he's used to being the smart one in class and fears me because I'm smarter than him. Just another insecure human male threatened by female intelligence. I cannot stand people like Chang, seriously. I smile politely at him and then focus on what the professor is saying. Why won't this little creep stop staring at me? I wish he'd go away. Oh, well. Can't always get what you want.

Class ends, and I am the first one out the door. I take to the tunnels, and super-speed through them on my way to the campus library. I am meeting my favorite guy at Starbucks. I run up the stairs and see him. Clad in a blue silk shirt, black silk pants and black Timberland boots, my boo, Justin Laguerre. Practicing Catholic, aspiring lawyer and prince of style. A tall, dark and handsome gentleman originally from the island of Haiti. We met last year, connected, and we've been together ever since.

I greet Justin with a smile and a kiss, and my favorite Haitian stud smiles and puts his arms around me. Justin is looking good and smelling even better. Underneath his Cologne, I can smell his masculine scent. I can also smell the comic book he brought me from the bookstore. Justin smiles and pulls a shiny black bag out of his backpack, and I grin as I see the comic book Batgirl : Introducing Aruna, penned by Scott Peterson and Mike Deodato. Aruna is a shape-shifter, and the only Indian female superhero in mainstream comics!

My eyes lit up as I hold the comic book in my hands, and I grab Justin and kiss him with such force that this six-foot-one, burly brother shudders. All around us, people are staring. Justin and I get coffee and egg sandwiches, and we smile and catch up. Justin is in his final year in the Law program at Carleton University. I'm in my third year in civil engineering. Time is catching up to us, that's why Justin Laguerre and I take advantage of every day. I love this man. Justin makes me feel like no one else before. I thank Justin again, and he excitedly tells me about his visit to the University of Ottawa's Law School. I listen attentively, as I love to encourage my man in his ambitions. Justin is just awesome.

Justin Laguerre is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. And that's part of the problem. You see, when a Werewolf's blood mingles with that of an ordinary human being, it can transform them into something else. In the movies, a Werewolf's bite changes a person into a Werewolf. In real life, it doesn't work that way. A Werewolf's bite typically kills a human within a few days. Usually.

The rest of the time? The Werewolf's bite transfers some of the Werewolf's key abilities such as superhuman strength and speed, along with an accelerated healing fact, onto the human without fully transforming them. We call these transformed humans Half-Breeds. The body of a human was never meant to do the things that a Werewolf's bite enables a Half-Breed's body to do. These Half-Breeds tend to last only a few years after their partial transformation. Usually, Werewolves kill Half-Breeds because we don't want them to expose us to the human world with their carelessness. To us, they're targets.

I love Justin Laguerre, but he's only human. If we continue to have sex, my blood will either kill him or turn him into a Half-Breed, which will make him a target for Werewolves for the rest of his natural life. Justin and I kiss, then we head to his dorm for some fun. I am not stupid, folks, I know what I am doing. Condoms are a must, lest something unpleasant happen. I like Justin Laguerre the way he is and I don't want anything to happen to him because of me.

There's something amazing about making love to someone who loves you. Justin and I reach his dorm, and close the door behind us. We kiss, and slowly, lovingly undress each other. I feast my eyes on Justin's tall, chocolate-hued, muscular body. My Haitian stud is simply gorgeous. Justin gazes at me as I undress. I'm short and chubby, with big tits, wide hips and a big butt. Definitely not the ideal of beauty. At least not in the eyes of Western society, which worships skinny blondes. Justin tells me that I'm beautiful, and I absolutely believe him.

Justin kisses me, then lays me down on his king-sized bed. I smile as he kisses my lips, licks my throat and caresses my breasts. I moan as he licks the areolas of my tits while his hand slides between my thick thighs. Justin smiles at me and then licks a path from my breasts to my slightly rounded belly, and finally buries that handsome face of his between my legs. I shudder as Justin begins licking my pussy and probing it with his fingers. I cry sharply as Justin's tongue teases my clit, and my eyes grow moist as my Haitian stud pleasures me.

Justin Laguerre definitely knows his way around the female body. The Haitian stud sets my flesh ablaze with his magic touch. I cry out as he coaxes an orgasm out of me, leaving me a shuddering, squirming mess on the bed. Justin smiles at me as I slowly recover from the sexual whammy he just laid on me. My stud is ready to go, and I gaze at his long, hard dick...hungrily. I kneel before Justin and proceed to worship at his altar. I pump my hand up and down Justin's length, and the long, dark dick glistens in my hand. Slowly, gently, I take Justin's dick into my mouth.

As a Werewolf, my senses of smell and taste are a thousand times better than a human being's, and I love the way Justin's dick smells, feels and tastes in my mouth. I love his funky masculine scent. I suck his dick and lick his balls as though they were sugar cubes. Justin moans as I pleasure him, and warns me that he's about to cum. Justin's knees buckle as he unleashes a torrent of cum on me, and I swallow every last drop. Justin smiles at me and I smile back. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I wink at him and get on all fours.

Justin's eyes widen as does his smile as I shake my big round Indian booty at him. The Haitian stud grins and kneels behind me, caressing my bum as though mesmerized. Justin rubs his dick against me and begins his approach into me. Immediately I panic, and urge him to put on a condom. Justin sighs, then nods and rolls a condom on his dick. I grin and Justin smacks my big bronzed ass before he slides his dick into my cunt. Just like that, the fun begins.

Justin thrusts into me, gripping my hips tightly as he invades my cunt. I moan deeply and grind my ass against his groin, driving his dick deep inside of me. I love it when Justin fucks me real good, and the Haitian stud doesn't hold back. Passionately we go at it, and Justin ravishes me, just the way I like it. I like having my hair pulled, my ass smacked and I like my pussy to feel thoroughly sore after some good, hot and passionate sex. Justin roughly fucks me until I squeal in delight as I cum for the second time that afternoon. I collapsed in Justin's arms, and he smiles and kisses me on the forehead. Justin likes to cuddle after sex. Me? I want a sandwich. Yeah, I'm different from most chicks.

Justin Laguerre and I are together, against all odds. You don't often see men of African descent with Indian ladies now, do you? My parents were cool when I introduced them to Justin. I met Justin's parents Michelle and Jean-Luc Laguerre, a nice Haitian couple living in the Ottawa suburb of Orleans, and they were charming and friendly. I know things are coming our way and I'll have some tough decisions to make. Justin doesn't know that I'm a Werewolf. I want to keep it that way. I also don't want to accidentally kill him or turn him into a Half-Breed. We're an interracial, interfaith and interspecies couple, folks. Do wish us luck, for we are going to need it!

  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • NonHuman
  • /
  • Indian Muslim Werewolf Princess

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 359 milliseconds