Sara moaned, shivering. Sweat was running down her back, as she leaned against a tree with her eyes closed. Every breath she took send thrilling shivers down her spine which mixed pleasantly with the sensation of the wolf cock, knotted deep within the sheep doe.


The wolf in question made pleasant growls over her shoulder, right next to her neck, and she could feel his chest and belly rub hot against her thick furred back - adding to the heat in the otherwise cold night. Instinctive fear mixed with the arousal into a crescendo of emotions that drove her wild.


For him, making love to the sheep awoke different feral instincts. Her scent made him drool and he had a slight urge to sink his fangs into her shoulder and neck. Of course he wouldn't hurt her. Not now. Not when he was so close.


Sara bleated, biting her lips, as she felt her orgasm wash over her. Soon later, she felt him come in her, rough and powerful, yet gentle. She was stuck to him for now, and he guided her down to the moss, cradled in his lap as he laid down with her, warming her against the chilly night which got to her despite her thick fur - sweaty as she was.


"I love you" he whispered. Sara shuddered, smiling, thinking of the thrill of laying - not only with any wolf but a notorious outlaw. His visage had been on posters hanging on almost every checkpoint, after news of his pack raiding a gold transport coming down from the mines had made it everywhere. Fifty dublones were set on information that would lead to his arrest - over five hundred to anyone who would bring his head.


Sara was playing a dangerous game. She wriggled her rump against his loins which told her that his cock was still lodged firmly inside her sheep cunny. He wrapped his arms around her and played with her breast, idly twisting her nipples until she tensed and shivered in his arms.


"I lo ... love you too" she bleated happily.


For a while they rested and looked at the night sky. Distant barking of feral dogs could be heard.


"They are probably searching for me again." He whispered in her ear. "They found our camp and arrested or killed two thirds of my gang. I told the idiots to hide in the mountains, but no, Terry and his mates thought they were invincible. Now he's dead and they are waiting for the gallows."


"Would they tell on you?" Sara asked, fearful.


He laughed. "There's nothing to tell, nothing they know about me that the militia doesn't already know. They found the camp after all. Was only a matter of time. And they'll never find their stupid gold, even if they keep searching for a hundred years." he chuckled, as if he was privvy to an awesome joke. "Their confessions - if there are any will only send them on a wild goose chase." His chuckles ended and he became more serious. "They'll eventually find me though. I can't hide forever, even with your help. They would find out. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a year."


She knew. She didn't want it to be true, but she had thought the exact same thing. It ... their relationship wasn't sustainable. And she was too close to him to be let go. She'd be hanged too. If she was lucky without betraying him under torture."


"Is there no way you can escape? You sent Benny away after all."


"I'd have to make it past the bridge, or over the pass and to the port on a ship. I got info from port town, they still search every ship that leaves port. And they look into every crate that gets transported over the deep-creek ravine. Until last month a good climber could go down to the river and up the stone cliff near Havenspire, but now they have cleared a hundred yards of forest along the banks and militia patrols day and night. Must cost them a fortune." He chuckled. "One of my men might have gotten through a checkpoint with a bribe, but with as much money as there is on my hide..."


"Can't you dress up as someone else?" she asked.


He sighed. Worked for a while, but they double check. If you are a wolf, no chance. They'd rather hang an innocent lookalike just in case than let me slip through. No, I'd have to be in someone else's skin entirely. Different species and all.


She tensed, as a thought crossed her mind. It was a forbidden thought, and not a good idea at all. It was a thought full of dread and fear and pain and death, something that she shouldn't have thought in the first place. But instead of throwing away the thought as she should have, she spoke it out.


"Use me. My skin can hide you..." she said, turning her head around to see into his eyes.


He could tell from her brown sheep eyes that she meant it.


"The wolf in sheep skin, huh? That might actually work. But it would kill you. I can't kill you."


He looked back into her eyes. She gulped, she had never seen him so serious. At this moment she loved him more than ever before.


"I won't live, if they catch you, they'd catch me too. And if they catch me to get to you... I'm afraid that I won't die fast enough..."


"Sara darling..." his voice was painful. He was searching for something to counter her argument. But he couldn't find any. She was giving herself so he had a chance. He had no right to throw that away. Had he?
They agreed to meet again two nights later. At an old hunters hut that the wolf knew about.


It was safe, since soldiers of the militia had searched it only two nights ago and had find no trace at all that anyone had been here in years. It was unlikely they would come back to check it anytime soon.


She waited there, first. Outside. Clad in nothing but her fur. There would be no clothes to be found as evidence. She was shivering slightly, but not from the cold. Her fur held her nicely warm.


She heard him coming before she saw him. She know his careful footsteps, almost unnoticeable until he was upon you. Unless you knew them as well as she did.


"You're gonna need to hide me afterwards. If they find me, they know how you'll look like." She whispered.


"I know." He said. "That's why we can't do it here. Come with me, to a place up in the mountains. But make no traces."


She followed him. Followed willingly, knowing she wouldn't come back. But he would. In her skin. In a way that thought excited her. She looked down on her, seeing her breasts and her legs. In a few hours he would look down on himself and see those, maybe fondle them. Her breath went faster, but not from exhaustion.


She was exhausted and her hooves ached from climbing up the rocky slopes. She was a sheep, not a mountain goat, but she was reasonably well in shape. He climbed as if he had climbed the same route a hundred times. Probably he had.


They arrived at a cave. From the outside the entrance was barely visible, but one she had squeezed through a tiny crack in the rock that looked as it went into eternal darkness, there was a bend and the place widened - and so did her eyes.


Moonlight fell in from another hole, high up in the ceiling of a large cavern, and was reflected from the surface of a little pond unto the stone walls. Lichen and moss grew down here and the air was damp but less cold than on the wind chilled outside.


Blankets were draped over the floor and some pillows. And other hints that suggested he had been here before. This was his secret hideout! And it was beautiful.


He picked up a flask from one of the blankets and gave it to her. Her eyes fell on a number of knifes and other utensils that were spotless clean and arranged. Them tools alone must cost a small fortune, when the militia made it hard to trade even simple cooking utensils.


"What is it? Poison?" she took it with trembling hands.


He shook his head. "Painkillers. Strong ones. I want you to see me with your gift. And you will wave goodbye to me as I flee.


Her eyes lit up with joy. She uncorked the flask and drank it all. It tasted horribly bitter and a bit rotten, some sort of plant extract.


Seconds later she felt a bit dizzy and nauseous.


"Keep it in. That will go over." He told her and held her. Then he guided her to the sheets. "I want to make love to you one more time..."


...


"I feel weird..." she told him. For a while they had laid together, like so many nights before, him stuck to her, filling her. "All numb."


"Do you feel this?" he asked. She giggled as she saw him take her shoulder fur in his mouth for a nibble. She winced as she saw his jaw clench together with more force than he had ever used on her. But to her surprise she didn't feel a thing. "No, I... I could barely tell."


Small red spots grew on her fur as he let go. But he licked it up until there was no more blood.


"Then we are ready. It won't hurt you. But it hurts me to do this to you. Are you sure you want this? There is no other way?" he asked one more time.


She nodded. "There is no other way. I love you!" she told him and gave him a kiss. Her lips felt numb, she could hardly feel her own kiss.


He was still stuck to her. As he sat up, she sat on him, and he looked over her shoulder, at her breasts and her belly. She still felt him inside her, twitching a bit. She realized that he now saw what she imagined him to see earlier.


"This is going to be you, soon." she said and brushed her hands over her belly fur, then over her breasts. Her nipples were hard.


"I know. I'll think of you every time. I'll never forget you." he promised and placed his hands on top of hers. He could feel her chest rise with her trembling breath.


"May... maybe my ghost will know and feel it every time you touch them. That would be nice."


"That would be nice... I like that thought." he answered. "But for now I need to ruin the look."


He grasped for one of the knifes. Sara forced herself to relax and looked down on herself. She could still feel him twitch inside herself, with every heartbeat. She thought what it would be, having all of him inside her, inside her fur. Feeling every motion, every breath, every heartbeat. He and her would be closer than ever before. Oh how much she wished she'd be able to feel that. A shiver of pleasure went through her even as he aligned the knife with her belly, just underneath her bellybutton.


It was a weird knife. Almost like a hook, its back side blunt. It's blade small and shaped like a half moon, ending in a tip. That tip poked her, and a single drop of blood stained her white wool.


Sara sucked in air and tried to hold as still as possible while he pulled it up, guiding the knife with one of his fingers dug in underneath. She couldn't surpress a shiver as she felt her belly being unzipped, exposing dark red flesh and white strands of fat, shining in the blueish moonlight.


A chill went through her as the cold air met her exposed, naked flesh.


"Relax. I promise there will be no pain. That herbs last for hours." He told her and caressed her shoulders with his other hand.


He waited until her breath had calmed, then he opened her up further. The knife went across her belly, then up along her chest. Right between her breasts. He stopped on her collarbone.


Sara could see herself exposed, her hide gaping ever so slightly with every breath, showing her what was underneath. Red meat. White fat. Veins, full of pulsing blood, which weren't even scratched.


I'll do your legs next. That way you don't need to move." He whispered. He reached for her left leg and pulled it closer. Then he took a different knife, a hunting knife and made a cut on the inside of her ankle.


"What are you doing?" she asked, unsure about the purpose. He exposed her ankle, peeled back her skin almost all around the narrow joint.


"I need to steal your hooves, darling. A sheep with wolf paws... I wouldn't get far. I hope you can forgive me, but..."


"I know, I won't need them anymore." she smiled at him. "Take as much of me with you as you can. I want it like that."


He nodded smiling.


With a crack that made her wince, he broke her ankle in two after he had sliced the knife once all around it. She felt a dull pain, very very distant, and watched her foot, her hoof, dangle from its skin, while her leg now ended in an exposed white bone.


She shivered and leaned into him. He cut her leg, all the way, across the inside of her knee, and then up the inner side of her thigh. It almost tickled, and she saw her leg muscles twitch underneath her now gaping skin. So red, so raw, so alive...


The wolf had to gulp down a bit of saliva. The scent of her blood got to him, drove his feral instincts wild. But he couldn't give in to them. Not yet at least...


She shuddered, as he pulled the cutting knife closer and closer to her sex, then brought it across towards her most sensitive belly fur and joined the cut with the one that already parted her belly.


Sara knew what was coming next. She relaxed that leg a bit and pulled her right leg close, placed her ankle and hoof right in his waiting hand.


He gave her a loving kiss, then cut her other hoof off and split the skin on her other leg. She felt the cold air inside her thigh, but his warmth kept her warm, his belly pressed against her back.


The cut joined the first one. The wolf placed the knife aside.


Sara gasped as she saw what happened when she flexed her hips. His knot was still inside her, trapped by her vaginal lips. With her belly skin loose, the motion pulled her sex and the loosened skin around it forward, as if it wanted to stay there and  she could just get up and leave her very sex behind, forever with him. She blushed, realising what that meant.


"Not yet, dear. Your legs come first. But then..." he promised.


A shiver went through her, but not from cold, nor from fear.


Peeling the skin from her legs was not pleasant. She didn't feel the pain that should have accompanied it, but she heard the ripping noise it made as her hide separated from her flesh and she saw blood which now stained her exposed leg. The cold air felt icy on her unprotected meat, and her exposed leg muscles had none of the velvety grace that her legs used to have and all the appeal of a bloody carcass.


Yet they were still her legs, still responded to her motions, even though they ended in exposed bone. All the way to the hips he had pulled her skin away. Now she could feel his hands, how they probed under her skin, as if to grope her butt from its inside.


That was exactly what he was doing, easing her skin of her butt cheeks.
She moaned as she felt his fingers under her skin. Numb, distant, but the sensation was there. They wriggled like worms under her skin, seeking out her tail, and then went inside it. A shudder raced through her, and she tensed and arched, exposing her belly, gaping from her parted belly fur.


She could feel his hand inside her back, above her tail, and her lower belly hide now hung away in two flaps to the left and right of her hip. She could see her own hipbone, white and exposed, underneath a shiny thin layer of fat and tissue. Only underneath, where she was sitting in his lap, was her hide still attached. Where she could feel his knot, still inside her, twitching stronger than ever.


"One last time..." he moaned, and bucked into her from below. His fingers went underneath her tail, under her skin, and probed around her tailhole. A weird tugging sensation that made her clench - which made the sensation even weirder.


He came into her. She felt the heat of his release inside her belly, like a warm fountain that squirted directly into her core.


She arched back into him. Trembling herself, trying to orgasm, or at least make him think she did. He had earned it. She was so numb.


He pulled out - although in a way he didn't. His knot was too large to slip out from her nethers. Instead he reached inside her and cut. Her sex came out with him, and his knife severed all sensations she still had. Her pleasure was now part of her hide, and as such, his.


Slowly he lifted her from his lap, leaving her hide behind, like an empty hull. Not far, she sat down between his legs on her exposed, bleeding knees. A slippery sensation on her bum told her that her guts were dangling out where her tailhole had been. Not that it mattered.


She felt cold. The air was cold, and she missed the warm embrace of his lap. She longed for his heat, as he reached around her, even though it was to cut the skin on her arms.


But there was only one part that hurt. The first time that fateful evening that something registered as real pain. That was when he made her slip out of her hands. Like gloves, she pulled her fingers out of their skin, turning inside out in the process, ripping the fine nerves endings that had given her numbed but yet noticeable sensation of touch.


She looked at what had become of her fingers, sobbing. White and red. Exposed. She could see her finger bones, like a living skeleton. Almost no sensation in them, yet they responded to her command, moved as if they were hers.


She barely noticed how he cut off her breasts together with her hide, and pulled her fur of her shoulders.
"I'm sorry to make you hurt. We are almost done, only one part left..." he told her, sorrow in his eyes.


But instead of using the knife on her, he gave her one last kiss on her lips.


She knew, those wouldn't be her lips for much longer. They would stretch around his snout soon. If she could feel, she'd feel his lips on the inside of hers. Forever kissing. She smiled and let her tongue meet with his.


He wouldn't take her tongue, would he? Could he?


"You can scream if you need to. Noone is going to hear us. Cry it out." he told her.


She nodded.


Then he pulled her fur over her head, and her world drowned in pain.


Somewhere in the distance she heard another sheep bleat in mortal pain. But she paid no attention. Her face was pulled off, her ears, from the back of her skull to the front, until it dared to pull her eyes out of their sockets and her lips were tugged away from her.


She felt and tasted the cold metal of the knife in her mouth. He cut inside, freed her lips.


Then he cut around her eyes, so close to them, she feared she would loose her eyesight. Her head wanted to break loose, but he held her like a vise.


And then he was done. She blinked... she tried to blink, bu there were no eyelids to shield her eyes. She could see her nose, red and white, almost steaming in the cold air, like her whole body. More naked than anything ever before.


The numbness was almost unbearable. The numbed down pain was all she felt, like a dull burning all over her. No sense of touch, no sense of warmth. Even the cold she only felt inside, in her bones. It made her shiver, but she had no fur left to stand up.


She was ugly.


She felt ugly, but when she saw the wolf's gaze on her, she saw longing. Longing, and a hunger that almost devoured her with his eyes.


He held her pelt in his hands. It was wet with blood and looked slippery, but the outside was fluffy and white. Her wool, bright and spotless. Like a piece of cloth in her shape, she could see herself limp and lifeless, draped over his arm. Her features empty, red holes instead of eyes.


"I will never forget you!" he promised, as he held her fur up for her to see. She didn't dare touch it with her blood stained bony fingers. She knew she wouldn't feel the touch. Her fingers touched each other, both slippery and sticky, but she couldn't feel it.


"What now?" she whispered. Her voice barely recognizable. She had no cheeks or lips to form her words with. Her face like an exposed carcass yet living.


He loved her for it. She could tell.


"Sshhhh, don't speak... Come closer, this will warm you!"


He did not hesitate to hug her. She feared to smear his wolf fur with blood, feared the touch would burn on her exposed flesh, but he didn't care and she didn't feel it. She heard the sound of his tongue licking her shoulder, drinking the drops of blood. A shiver went through him, and she knew he wanted her. All of her.


"I'll make a fire, that will chase away the cold." he promised. She could hear his stomach growling.


"I'm going to feed you." she thought. And the thought warmed her as much as the fire did that he kindled. "I'll come with you. Part of me on your skin, and the rest inside you. You don't have to leave me behind."


But she didn't speak it out. She sat down on the blood stained blankets and let the fire warm her that she could barely feel. Sitting closer she wondered if she'd even feel if it roasted her.


But the wolf didn't need to cook his meat. She felt a different kind of warmth surge through her as she felt his teeth in her shoulder. She arched and pressed her flayed form closer to him. His claws caressed over her body, over her exposed rips, then dug into her slimy belly deep enough so she could feel it on the inside.


"Take me" she whispered. Her body could not last on its own, she knew that. It was only right when he took her all the way. He couldn't understand her voice, barely more than a wheezing, but he understood her anyway. His teeth dug in and ripped flesh out of her shoulders with a wet ripping noise. His claws ripped her belly open, and she could feel her insides spill forth.


Wet and wriggly, and steaming, like the rest of her, they gushed forward and down, between her legs. She could see inside her belly. Her exposed ribs, her flesh, it looked on the inside just like on the outside. She was a living, breathing piece of meat now, willing to be ripped apart and devoured.


She felt a bit of sadness, yes, but no hesitation. On the contrary, there was an euphorious thrill in the knowledge that she was way past the point of no return, yet would still be awake to witness what was to come. She wasn't being devoured, she was feeding him. It was her doing, and she knew, she wanted to keep giving herself to him until there was nothing left of her.


Her bony hands picked up some loops of steaming entrails and lifted them up. They smelled vile to her, but she knew that to a carnivore that same smell must be mouth watering. He took them from her and gently in his mouth. Chewed them, her, then gulped, only to be fed more of her, by her hands, directly to his fangs.


She watched in fascination, how her insides were devoured. He had such hunger, such lust in his eyes, such need... And she could feed it, feed him. It was her gift, her power.


Following an impulse, she left her hand between his jaws together with the next loop of guts fished from the pile that had slipped from inside her. A shiver ran through her as she heard and felt her fingers break with a crunching sound. She ripped what was left of her hand loose, missing three fingers, then led him down between her legs, to the gaping hole she had between them. Her fleshy, meaty thighs left and right of his nose, begging to be devoured.


He did not need to be asked. He dug his teeth into the meal she had prepared and she arched back, moaning a sound that was not voice nor bleat anymore, and yet spoke of longing and lust, of defeat and submission and utter devotion.


His claws dug into her back, poked holes between her rips, yet she felt it like a loving embrace. His teeth gnashed and gnawed, ripped her meat from her bones, for him to swallow barely chewed. She could feel herself between his teeth, felt herself devoured, felt herself feed him, her flesh rip and her bones break between his jaws.


It was wonderful and ecstatic, while it lasted. But with a violent shudder that rocked her body, she lost consciousness and the world went black even though she wanted to hold the image and the sensation back with all her will, the blackness won like an all overpowering giant that wouldn't even be slowed down.


He didn't even notice, he kept devouring and eating, like in a frenzy, until he finally realized how still she was.




She thought, she had died. Everything was calm, no sound, no sensation. But there was a light. She would have blinked if she had had eyelids. But the light became brighter, and somehow it dawned to her that wondering if she was dead meant she probably wasn't.


Her vision was blurry. She couldn't feel her arms, nor her legs. Or anything below ... below the emptiness that had been her belly.


Somehow the wolf had fixed her up. Strings were wrapped around her stumps, and knots were tied around her arteries. Somehow he had managed to take her apart even more, yet contain what was left of her, so she could open her eyes one more time. Or... see through them that were already kept eternally open.


A weak smile would have grown on her face. He must have seen the slight movement of her skull, because he looked at her, and their eyes met.


He was beautiful. Clad entirelly in white, he had donned the fur that had been hers. Prepared it, sewn it. She had no idea what he had done to himself in order for her to fit him, but he now was a sheep. A doe. Only his eyes gave him away, even his paws had seemingly turned to hooves, although she thought she could see the hint of his paws inside there, just above what had been her ankles.


"Your fur is beautiful." he said, and brushed his hands, her hands, over his belly and chest. Her chest, her breasts now hanging on him, just like she had dreamed.


"I wanted you to see that."


She nodded, happily. She would have smiled if she could have, but her skull knew just one face expression.


She looked down on what was left of herself. Her empty torso was propped up on a frame of wooden branches above the fireplace. There was no fire. And she had no hips, no legs, and no arms. She was but a ribcage and a head.


"Don't worry, I will not leave you behind. I will smoke your meat and take all of you with me. It's the last thing to do before I go and I shouldn't stay longer. I am so glad you can see me like this."


She knew he said the truth. He was happy for her, he loved her. 


When everything else was done, his belongings packed, and stowed, he gave her one last kiss on her bare skull-mouth. Their tongues met. She could still feel his tongue, still taste him. And his kiss was as loving as they had all been.


He looked into her eyes with a sad smile, as his hands reached into her open chest and tugged a string. She felt the knot that held the largest vein tight, she felt it open. A gush of blood poured out of her, then another. With every beat of her weakened heart, she was now emptying herself on the coals below.


The wolf nodded her goodbye, then started kindling the fire to smoke her meat. She could smell it, the bark of fir and oak. The thick smoke that clouded her mind and would make her meat dry, durable and so tasty. The blackness was back, pulling in on her from all sides.
This time she didn't fight it, gave in, knowing she would be going with him. The smell, the taste on her tongue. She knew her tongue would be tasty, and he would kiss her at least one more time.


The gushing of blood turned to a trickle, as she dried up. The wolf covered her in wet blankets to have the smoke cure and immerse the meat until the fire had burnt down to ashes. Her colour had changes, she was now darker and smelled of oak and fir and smoke. Her mouth was slightly opened, and her tongue was pressed against her gums as if she was savouring a tasty treat. Her eyes had shrivelled and dried in the heat of the smoke, no longer windows to her soul, but milky and blind and motionless.


He cut her up, left the bones behind with the others and placed the meat in his back.


The wolf made his way back into the valley, down along the path towards one of the villages.


He knew he couldn't pass the checkpoint just like that. A new sheep doe that noone had ever seen before was too suspicious. Instead, he would build himself an identity, make sure people knew her. Knew where she came from and where she would get back to, once she finally passed the checkpoint, maybe to just sell goods in the castle. Then one day she could just take her bag and leave for the port.


In a secluded spot in the forest, he looked down on his body inconspicuously, felt his breasts and his belly fur. So female, so full, so appetizing. Licking his lips, he remembered her taste, and wondered if she was looking through his eyes that were moment, and felt his arousal hidden deep within.


He couldn't be certain, but he just assumed she was there. Would always be there.


And aside of her, and him, no one would be the wiser. No one would ever know, about the wolf in the sheep-skin.